《Discordant Note | The Beginning After the End SI》


 Chapter 293: The Scythehapter 27:s Mistake

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    Toren Daen


    I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling cold despite the fire mana clinging to my body. Thoughts of my oath¡ªan oath I wasn¡¯t sure I could keep¡ªstung my skin like needles, each syringe sinking deep into my veins and injecting liquid uncertainty there.


    At my side, Aurora was silent. I¡¯d closed off our bond for a time, unable to process all I felt in regard to Chul in her presence.


    Instead, I allowed myself to listen and hear, using the neverending tumult of the war camps and rushing servants within this castle as a grounding beacon.


    The entire upper floor¡ªwhere Seris had stationed herself¡ªwas mostly empty of people. I could sense the mana signatures and heartbeats of a few familiar people as I strode with hunched shoulders through the cramped tunnels.


    Lusul is here, I thought with surprise, sensing the young son of Named Blood Hercross further down below. Most of Seris¡¯ captains were here, too. Dromorth, Alyx, and a few others spoke in a room a ways away.


    As I improved with my use of Sonar Pulse, it was getting easier and easier to craft full, three-dimensional images in my head of my surroundings. Each pulse of my heart sent out subtle weaves of sound magic that wouldn¡¯t even disturb a blade of grass, before the particles rebounded back to me.


    Combined with my sense of heartfire and intent, it painted this entire castle¡ªwhich was otherwise dark and decrepit from disuse¡ªin a wash of mental color and life.


    But there was a blank spot, somewhere far below. In the deepest reaches of this castle, before the stretching tunnels of Darv that wove like burrows in every direction, there was a place where my sound mana went and did not return. There, a perpetual blank spot welcomed my senses.


    Powerful wards covered that place. The dungeons.


    I was certain that if I tried, I could punch through those wards. I could tear them apart and know what was kept deep in those dark reaches.


    But I didn¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t.


    When I returned to Seris, Cylrit was already waiting for me. In the time it had taken me to wash up and put on fresh clothes, he¡¯d found himself another suit of black plate armor.


    I almost chuckled in amusement upon seeing him in the familiar, inky black plate. It had no adornment or visible runes across the outside, unlike many of the gaudier attires I knew. It was strict, utilitarian, and denied anything that was not its purpose.


    ¡°Do you just have spare sets of the exact same armor lying around in storage?¡± I asked, amused despite myself.


    Cylrit¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Do you have spare limbs to regrow in storage?¡±


    I smiled sardonically. ¡°I just might.¡±


    I slowly loped to the side, leaning against the far wall. I could sense Seris within her office, moving about and arranging papers and writing reports. She was a master of organization and bureaucracy in a way I could hardly fathom. Cylrit had given her his report barely a minute ago, and already my Scythe was sending out orders and restructuring her spies in response.


    I allowed my eyes to close, my earlier exhaustion returning slightly. I dozed lightly as I leaned against the stones, waiting for what I knew was to come.


    Seris finally opened the doors of her rooms. She strode out with perfect poise, her intent finally more even and controlled.


    ¡°I received a mission report from Cylrit that told me much of what transpired,¡± Seris said, staring up at me. ¡°But it seems something else takes the most precedent for you right now, outside of what else you need to tell me.¡±


    I exhaled weakly. ¡°Sylvie Indrath and Rinia Darcassan both spoke with me,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°It¡¯s important. But you¡¯re right. Aurora is awake again.¡±


    As if to punctuate my point, the relic brooch¡ªwhich had been pinned to my breast¡ªslowly began to morph and change as my bond exerted her will.


    The bronze, feathered relic morphed and changed as the Puppet Form emerged. I felt another stab of guilt as I stared down at the once beautiful craft.


    When Aurora had first embodied this little puppet, I had been in awe of the detail and life that it seemed to hold. Each of the brassy feathers shifted and moved with little puffs of steamed dawnlight. It was like a painting made real, with each sweep of the brush another flap of her bronzed wings.


    But just like the Vessel Form, what limped on my shoulder was a shell of its former self. The feathers of the steampunk sparrow drooped and wilted in the low light like candlewax. The legs seemed a bit too long now, the entire structure sitting disjointedly. Instead of a mourning dove, I saw a crippled crow.


    ¡°My son,¡± my bond said through her relic¡¯s voice. ¡°You will take us to him, Scythe.¡±


    Seris¡¯ brow twitched, and Cylrit frowned. In turn, I gnashed my teeth, feeling painfully caught in the middle of these two fronts.


    ¡°We need to speak to Chul,¡± I said, before Seris¡¯ irritation and anger¡ªwhich I sensed in the wake of Aurora¡¯s heedless demand¡ªcould boil over. ¡°He¡¯s down below in the dungeons, yes? Could you take us to him? Please?¡±


    The Scythe looked at me, no doubt sensing my attempt to maintain the fragile peace between us. ¡°Cylrit, attend to your regular duties,¡± she said, not turning away from me as we shared a silent message. ¡°I think this will take time.¡±


    At my side, Cylrit bowed deeply. ¡°As you command,¡± he said. With a single, respectful nod to me, he started to walk away, his armor clanking with every step.


    Seris stared at the little clockwork bird on my shoulder. Her emotions were nearly as convoluted and angry as my own. ¡°Do you know what your son did, Lady Dawn?¡±


    The relic didn¡¯t respond immediately. Aurora couldn¡¯t, not in the face of such blunt brutality. At my side, the phoenix shade narrowed her eyes as she restrained her irritation.


    ¡°He made grave mistakes,¡± the phoenix said slowly. ¡°He was led astray by subterfuge and betrayal. What occurred in Burim is not his fault. You know of the Wraiths sent to sabotage your meeting, Scythe.¡±


    Seris turned. Slowly, like a well-oiled cog in a machine, she rounded not on the relic, but on the space where the phoenix shade stood.


    Whenever the Vritra-blooded mage I called my own and my phoenix had their verbal spars, it had always felt like Aurora held some sort of abstract upper hand. Seris teased and probed at her barriers, looking for cracks or vulnerabilities so she could better understand her quarry. In turn, Aurora had always scoffed and dismissed Seris¡¯ provocations with the air of an elder waving away the youth¡¯s foolishness.


    But for the first time, Seris seemed larger than even Lady Dawn as she stared her directly in the eyes. I knew not what tells I¡¯d given or subtle body language conveyed where the phoenix shade stood, but it allowed the silver-haired woman to lock eyes directly with the unnerved Aurora.


    Seris¡¯ horns glinted in the firelight.


    ¡°An interesting perspective of events, Lady Dawn,¡± Seris said, the final words barely restraining respect. ¡°Your son¡¯s actions caused the death of thousands. Cylrit nearly died. Toren nearly died. And Burim broke. And that city did not need to break.¡±


    Seris stepped forward so that she was barely a foot away from the once-imposing Aurora. Lady Dawn restrained her fists at her side, unable to do anything but listen. ¡°At any moment, your son could have listened to reason. At any moment, he could have taken a chance. At any moment, this could have been averted. The onus was on him for the entirety of his fight, and only him.


    ¡°So, asura, I want you to understand something,¡± she said, each syllable announced with carefully masked anger. ¡°Any action I might take regarding Chul Asclepius is a privilege, including allowing you to visit your son. It is not a right, and you have no grounds for making any sort of demands of me at all. Are we clear?¡±


    ¡°And you suppose that you bear the right to restrain one of the Asclepius?¡± Aurora said, dawnlight steam of repressed anger rising from her skin. ¡°You suppose you can cage a phoenix?¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyes narrowed further, her aura shifting about her like dark scales. Her mouth turned down into a frown. ¡°I did not break Chul¡¯s wings. He did it unto himself.¡±


    Then she turned on her heel, and began to march angrily down the hallway, her mana pulsing. ¡°With me, Toren,¡± she ordered. ¡°We¡¯ll see this brother of yours.¡±


    I shared a look with Aurora, whose eyes were barely rimmed with tears. I ground my teeth, feeling as if my mouth was rimmed with ash.


    Then I followed after Seris, the Unseen World misting away alongside Aurora¡¯s control of her relic. I felt her withdraw and retreat again, unable to bear the darkness.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to be so harsh,¡± I whispered as I fell into lockstep beside Seris. ¡°You got your point across.¡±


    The Scythe huffed. She kept her eyes forward as we trailed through the hallways of the dwarven fortress. ¡°Will you defend his actions, too, Toren?¡± she asked, looping her arm through mine and keeping us close. ¡°Will you ignore his sins for petty sentiment?¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut, interlocking my hand with Seris¡¯ dainty one. It felt good to feel her pulse again, beneath my own.


    ¡°No, Seris,¡± I said honestly. ¡°No. I hate him. I hate him so much.¡±


    Visions of that hellfire in Burim returned in horrid flashes. Of Seris, bleeding out as Inversion blackened her chest, Chul looming over her with a raised mace and a malevolent snarl. Of Barth, falling to his pointless, empty death alongside thousands of others. Of those I couldn¡¯t save from the lavatides.


    ¡°That city is wounded,¡± I said quietly. ¡°The aether itself lingers with mourning. I can taste the afterdeath of thousands scarring that place with their final torment. All that sudden, horrid violence warped it. And I could hear it like a pulsing scar.¡±


    I tensed my fingers around Seris¡¯ hand, savoring the closeness as she leaned slightly against my shoulder. The distance that had been between us before my daring assault on the flying castle evaporated like smoke as we clung to each other in small, subtle ways. ¡°And I can still hear that pain in your heart. I can¡¯t ever forgive him for hurting you like that.¡±


    I wrapped us both in a sound barrier as we continued lower, reaching the more populated parts of the castle. Wherever we went, guards, servants, and soldiers bowed and knelt in subservience. Whispers of ¡°Scythe,¡± ¡°Spellsong,¡± and ¡°Morningstar¡± seeped around us like spring fog.


    And finally, at the very end of a long thoroughfare, we reached an empty wall. A dead end.


    Seris looked up at me, her horns splitting the light. She considered me for a few seconds, her eyes tracing over my upper body, before centering on my chest.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ trying to make something of this ailment I have,¡± she said quietly. She chewed her pale, bottom lip, seeming slightly uncertain as her earlier rage cooled. ¡°When you left, I decided to try and¡­ use this detriment, instead of suppressing it.¡±


    I briefly remembered the beakers and bottles of blood I¡¯d seen in Seris¡¯ office, where that white energy of Inverted Decay had somehow been concentrated.


    ¡°I discovered that if I concentrated mana in certain parts of my body, I could better direct the flow of that strange magic that afflicts me. It concentrates itself there, and in doing so, I can extract it. I have discovered in the short few days of experimentation that it is an entirely new deviation of Vritra magic, one that is keen to destroy Vritra magic. And maybe, one day, we can learn to use it.¡±


    My eyes widened at the implications. If Seris could somehow make use of this magic that was anathema to everything of the Basilisks, it would be groundbreaking for every one of her goals. An entire deviation that was fundamentally poison to those who crafted the poisons? I could think of nothing more like her.


    The Scythe opened her mouth to say something, but she cut off as I gave her a swift hug. I held her slim body close, my mind swirling with ideas. Weapons, elixirs, armor¡­ If there was an entire deviation dedicated to the erasure of Vritra-blooded arts¡­ ¡°Seris, you¡¯re a genius,¡± I whispered, my head swirling.


    ¡°I know,¡± she replied, her voice slightly muffled from how she pressed her face into the crook of my shoulder. She hugged me back lightly, savoring the closeness in her own small way. ¡°You do not stress it enough.¡±


    I chuckled as I separated from the demure woman, looking down at her as if I was seeing her for the first time. Even when I¡¯d been delving into the Dicathian castle and taking risks to see if I could craft hope, my Scythe had been taking risks and crafting her own.


    ¡°Would you like me to compliment you more?¡± I asked, sensing the subtle contentedness that radiated from the woman, even as she felt pain from her inverted affliction. I would need to find a way to fix that, soon. ¡°You seem to enjoy it.¡±


    Seris narrowed her eyes a little, brushing past me and ignoring my subtle teasing. ¡°I do not answer to empty flattery, my songbird,¡± she said. ¡°I accept only honesty.¡±


    The Scythe tapped a few places on the wall in front of us. The wall fell away at the mana input, dissolving into sand and revealing a dark, expansive passageway beyond.


    My elevated mood settled again as my smile fell. The slight teasing with Seris had helped me settle my emotions. It helped us both settle ourselves for what was to come. I suspected that had been the Scythe¡¯s intent.


    Seris stepped in front of me as she walked, the passageway too slim for us to stroll side by side anymore. With a bare nudge at my core, little, tiny motes of fire danced around us, granting a little bit of light as we continued onward.


    I could sense Aurora¡¯s quiet anticipation and dread as we circled down and down and down through the earth. Around and around Seris and I went, as the stairs spiraled downward. I had to hunch so I wouldn¡¯t scrape my head on the ceiling.


    Sonar Pulse radiated from my heart in a constant, steady beat. Sound mana thrummed through the entirety of the castle in subtle weaves like silk nigh-invisible snow on a winter evening. And with each step and pulse of that nexus of aether, we inched closer and closer to the wards that blocked my sight.


    ¡°She has him caged,¡± Aurora thought, more to herself than to me. The Scythe¡¯s horns absorbed the darkness. ¡°My son is lashed to a dungeon wall.¡±


    What else would you have her do? I countered, already feeling tired before this meeting even began. What else could Seris do? She was merciful in even allowing him to survive after what he did to Cylrit.


    I immediately regretted my words, Lady Dawn recoiling from me as if slapped. I winced as I recalled the long years of the phoenix¡¯s trauma as she, too, was kept chained to a wall by a cunning Vritra-blooded being.


    I¡¯m sorry, I thought back, exhaling forcefully through my nose. I¡¯m sorry. I just¡­


    I squeezed my eyes shut, welcoming the flickering flashes behind my eyelids.


    Fuck. Fuck. I wished there was some sort of right answer or thing I could say that would fix everything wrong that had happened with Chul. Once upon a time, I might have thought there was. I was Spellsong, the connector of hearts. My words carried the weight of mana and intent themselves. I should have the words to make things right.


    But these past few weeks, I¡¯d realized that some things could never be set straight. Sometimes, things broke. People broke.


    Seris abruptly froze in front of me. I sensed as her intent¡ªwhich had been carefully controlled and leashed before¡ªslipped towards worry and uncertainty.


    ¡°Seris, what¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked, immediately calling on my mana. From the way she tilted her head and shifted, I could tell she was immediately on high alert. ¡°Did he escape?¡±


    The Scythe didn¡¯t grace me with a response immediately. Her pace accelerated as she practically began to fly down the stairs, dark mana swirling around her hands. ¡°The wards were breached,¡± she said, hissing to me through the sound barrier I still kept around us. ¡°The tempus warp protections were torn aside!¡±


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    My eyes widened as I flew after Seris, the implications of her words clear. My heartrate increased as fear rose in my mana core. But beyond even that, Aurora¡¯s worries became nearly all-consuming within my head.


    It didn¡¯t take long for us to reach the bottom of the stairwell, and what we saw didn¡¯t bode well.


    An impenetrable vault door loomed high above us both, stretching twenty feet in the air. Made of dark, reflective black diamond¡ªone of the strongest materials in this world¡ªthe barrier to the chamber within must have been imposing once upon a time. The studs and locking mechanisms would have kept anyone weaker than a Lance from daring to enter its bowels.


    Except there was a simple rectangular gap at the very center. It looked so perfect, that improvised doorway. It looked almost as if it were carved out by the touch of my very own plasma blades.


    Seris rushed to the doorway, pausing only momentarily to gather her mana to herself. A single, black blade of aspected pure mana settled into existence in her hand. She didn¡¯t spare a glance over her shoulder back towards me, only rushed inside the vault.


    I followed after, worries staining every inch of my thoughts with the yellow of fear. Aurora¡¯s thoughts were starting to bleed over mine, her maternal instinct and worry for her other son all-consuming.


    Seris gasped in horror, just as I entered the vault.


    It took barely a fraction of a second for my eyes to adjust to the utter darkness of the cell. It was a surprisingly large place, considering the dwarven nature of everything else. A single chamber seemed to compound every inch of darkness within it. The walls, floor, ceiling¡ªall of it was composed of black diamond. That reflective, black crystal held the shadows like a greedy lover, wrenching any and all hope of light from the captive within.


    Chains stretched from every corner of the room, twisting like tendrils of some great sea monster as they held someone fast. They all surged toward the center of the great vault, each and every one of them. Those chains drew my eyes like a black hole to the figure bound by them.


    Chul knelt on the ground, ensorcelled entirely in those constricting chains. His barrel chest was still. Unmoving. His short hair clung to his skin as he stared emptily up at the sky, those orange and blue eyes devoid of light.


    And at the center of his chest¡ªwhere his core should have been¡ªwas a gaping hole. Trace drops of blood still leaked from it in a slow waterfall of quiet despair.


    He was dead.


    I stood still, staring at the corpse of the phoenix half-blood. I forgot how to think as Seris rushed over to the body, inspecting it and looking it over.


    But I was only partially aware of her. Inside my mind, Aurora¡¯s rage was building. It rose and rose and rose like a crescendo as we both stared at the corpse. Chul¡¯s mouth lay open in a silent, powerless scream for help.


    Visions of Norgan dying replayed in my mind in a painful, reverberating loop. I remembered Kaelan Joan¡¯s dagger sinking into his core in that exact spot that now marred Chul¡¯s chest. And in turn with Aurora¡¯s rage, mine rose, too. It was blistering and searing and furious.


    How dare she.


    My pulse pounded in my ears as I stared at the shackled, assassinated body. I couldn¡¯t hear anything else other than the pounding of my heart. The mana in the atmosphere coiled and sizzled as my aura radiated out from me like the corona of a star.


    Seris felt it, of course. She turned, trying not to tremble from the force of my power. Her eyes were wide with surprise and worry. ¡°Toren, calm yourself,¡± she ordered, taking a hesitant step back. ¡°This isn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hear her through the blood rushing past my head. I fell into Soulplume, Aurora¡¯s mind melding and meshing with mine as we found perfect equilibrium in our rage. Equilibrium we had only ever experienced once, deep in the Hearth at the moment of our final plea. Our eyes focused on Seris¡¯ black mana saber, then on the matching hole in Chul¡¯s core. Then, in turn, we remembered the cut on the vault door.


    She will pay for this, I thought, taking a single, burning step forward. The Scythe will burn.


    We did not listen to Seris Vritra¡¯s words as we stalked forward, our shrouded spirit enveloping us. The woman stumbled backward, holding out her hands as we conjured a shrouded saber in our grip. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And onward we still went, unrelenting. Because we would have vengeance for the supposed death of our brother-son. No other sound reached our ears. Seris Vritra¡¯s mouth moved as we neared, but we heard not her pleas.


    They didn¡¯t matter. She could not stand under the weight of our aura, but it was inconsequential.


    We reached our target, that damnable, accursed Scythe, before they had a chance to retreat away after daring to taunt us.


    Seris¡¯ eyes widened as we raised our blade. She thrust out her hands, conjuring a shield of black mana that shivered and warped from her weakness.


    I brought my blade down, cutting through flesh. My shrouded saber parted skin, flesh, and bone in equal measure, reaping its due with every intersection of lifeforce. White fire seared the wound.


    The world fractured as a scream tore through the air. As if the entire world was made of glass, cracks spread through the panels of reality all around us. One, two, three¡ªthey spread, and then they erupted.


    The illusion broke.


    Viessa Vritra¡¯s arm fell from her wretched shoulder, severed at the root. Her purple hair flared about her like a nest of serpents as her blood sprayed through the darkness. The Scythe of Truacia¡¯s eyes were open in surprise as her limb fell.


    She had been dragging our brother-son with her, no doubt wishing to escape with him. His steady, weakened heartbeat echoed in our ears, unable to be quelled.


    Seris stumbled away, shock overwriting her features again as the illusion that had tried to grip us both failed. Her eyes darted about the chamber, noting Viessa, Chul, the empty chains at the center of the room¡ª


    Viessa tried to speak. She opened her mouth to say something as her magic swelled in that dimly lit chamber, but speaking was the right of those who should be heard. It was the right of those with purpose and soul.


    Our hand darted out, quick as a snapdragon wasp¡¯s stinger. The talons of our shrouded spirit flared with white fire and dawnlight as they wrapped around the Vritra-blooded lessuran¡¯s pale, unguarded throat. Her words cut off into a charred cough as we squeezed.


    We felt her magic flaring as she struggled, her single free arm clawing at our crystalline armor. Blades of void wind raged and tried to rip apart our protections as she stared deep into our burning eyes. A howling tempest of fell energy tried to crater our defenses and wither our flesh.


    They failed. The wind found no purchase on our gleaming, firewrought form. Our mana denied any and all attempts of hers to subvert her fate. We had grown exponentially since our last encounter, and we were one.


    And then the witch tried to touch our mind again. She dared to try and layer more illusions over our sight. The figure in my grip shifted, rippling like liquid as another form overlaid her. Purple, writhing hair turned to brilliant silver. The teal and white battlerobes of our quarry melted into deepest black. Horns like an impala stretched from her head.


    Suddenly, I wasn¡¯t holding Viessa in my hand anymore. Clasped beneath the sharp talons of my shrouded spirit, Seris¡¯ wide, terrified eyes stared at me. They begged me to stop, choked gurgles echoing from beneath my elongated, crystalline talons.


    Toren would have hesitated. His grip would have relaxed, and he might have let go. The very image of what was happening rattled through his mindscape like an arrow from a godbow sinking into his mana core.


    But we were not Toren alone.


    Our heart beat. And the frequency of Resonant Flow changed. The sound magic that rippled from the depths of our chest tore at the fabric of Viessa Vritra¡¯s illusions, ripping them apart like the petty weaves of paper they were.


    The world fractured again like glass, and we held the Scythe of Truacia in our grip once more.


    The Scythe tried again to layer the world with illusions, blanketing our sight. But every time, our heart beat, ripping them apart with waves of sound magic. Fracture after fracture after kaleidoscopic fracture coated our vision with shards of reality as we stared deep into Viessa¡¯s doomed eyes. The sound of the world breaking echoed in tune with our pulse.


    ¡°A petty little lessuran you are, Viessa Vritra,¡± we whispered, mist leaking from our mouth. Her throat sizzled beneath our grip. ¡°Your paltry tricks have no hold on us.¡±


    Viessa wheezed beneath our tightening hold, the entire world falling away as we held her life in our hands. But despite her looming demise and my talons around her throat, the Scythe smiled.


    ¡°I caught¡­¡± she pressed out, her once-melodic voice seared by the flames seeping into her throat, ¡°caught a glimpse of you when we¡­ fought. Caught what¡­ drives you.¡±


    Her empty eyes slowly lolled to the side, focusing on our brother-son. Seris had moved to kneel over his body, inspecting him for wounds. Despite Viessa¡¯s position, her intent radiated confidence. She felt no fear. She felt no remorse. She felt no happiness. Her emotions were a broken, scrambled mess of things that should not be.


    ¡°Brotherhood,¡± she wheezed. ¡°Such an¡­ interesting thing. So broken you are, Spellso¡ª¡±


    We whirled, twisting with the rotational power of a nascent tornado. Our shrouded spirit augmented every step of our movements, the constant pulling force granting us the torque to level mountains.


    We slammed the witch¡¯s body into the ground. A sound like a thunderclap echoed out, breaking the demonic beast¡¯s attempts at using her illusions. The black diamond floor shattered as the Scythe impacted, cracks running up along the walls and ceiling like faultlines in the earth. The castle high above rumbled from the exerted force.


    No more did the lessuran wretch try and overlay visions onto our mind. As her broken body leaked blood through the crater beneath her, we thought of a bug that had felt the kiss of an unrelenting boot. She looked like a wasp that had been pressed between a forefinger and thumb.


    We leaned over her, staring into her eyes as more and more of her blood flowed. ¡°Broken¡­¡± we whispered, our eyes searing deep into the depths of Viessa¡¯s soul.


    She didn¡¯t feel the things she should have at this moment. Even as she groaned in pain, her body broken from our casual strike, she did not feel fear. Physical pain was not a threat to her. It did not register that she should be afraid.


    Because she¡¯d experienced worse. Because her mind was scrambled and shredded by Sovereign Orlaeth¡¯s experiments, leaving something wrong behind.


    We leaned forward so that our lips were just beside the witch¡¯s ears. The words we uttered were soft, melodic, and filled with vindictive hatred. ¡°We can sense what¡¯s broken in your mind, Scythe,¡± we whispered.


    Viessa had the audacity to laugh. Blood gurgled in her throat as she mocked my words. ¡°So pretentious, Spellsong,¡± she said through bloody lips. ¡°Your anger only serves to make me right. It only serves the High Sovereign¡¯s goals.¡±


    We cut her off with another squeeze around her throat as our raw fury settled into something more contemplative. This witch didn¡¯t fear death. She didn¡¯t fear physical pain. She didn¡¯t even truly fear us.


    But we could make her feel fear. We just had to look.


    ¡°Orlaeth took much from you. He took your ability to feel as all others do. Your ability to sense and understand. But above all of it, you cannot feel¡­¡±


    We closed our eyes, sensing and searching through the weaves of Viessa¡¯s intent. Deeper and deeper we went, savoring the silence and growing tension as the woman began to clench in uncertainty.


    Viessa was a master of mental magic, that much was true. But intent¡­ Intent was something that needed conscious control. Sometimes, artifacts could hide it or mask it, but never truly eliminate it. And I had long since started to chase that trail like a predator catching the scent of their prey.


    And then we found it. All the masks and protections were finally stripped away.


    ¡°Ahhh,¡± we whispered, feeling the thrill of having caught our prey. ¡°We understand now.¡±


    I opened my eyes, looking down at the mangled body of the Scythe. We had gazed into her soul. We had clawed our way up the soultether that kept her wretched spirit anchored to this broken Vessel, and we had gazed upon her Truth.


    And we knew.


    ¡°Happiness. That¡¯s what he took from you.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s convulsing body froze as if caught in time.


    The witch could never, ever feel happiness. That emotion that fulfilled every action, that made every step worthwhile? She could never feel it again. Her mind had been denied that critical emotion, like a crucial puzzle piece torn from the center, or a limb ripped from the socket.


    That emotion was forever beyond her now. She could feel content, I was certain. Maybe some amusement. But the ultimate goal of every being was denied to her. Never would she look over her work and feel joy.


    So she endeavored to strip joy from everyone else. Like a child who couldn¡¯t play with her toys, she sought to break every toy around her.


    ¡°Orlaeth was never trying to hurt you, Scythe,¡± we said in a low, motherly tone. ¡°He was simply¡­ apathetic. Such is the way of the Vritra and their experiments. Your current suffering was never his goal.¡±


    The difference between us and Orlaeth? To us, her suffering was our goal, not a mere side effect.


    Viessa stared up at us with mute, empty eyes. Already, her soulfire healing was working to wash away the damage to her shattered physique¡ªthough the stump of her cauterized arm would never return. I let her do so. I was starting to taste a little bit of that delectable fear as she laid rigidly beneath my boot. It was slow to rise in her. Her mind was too broken to really recognize what prey such as her should feel as a predator peered into her soul.


    But it rose in time. No mortal creature could survive as a Scythe without fear. And as goosebumps slowly trailed along Viessa¡¯s pale flesh and her lips started to quiver, I savored her rising terror. Her eyes began to smoke as we looked deep into their empty depths, the burning star beneath far too bright.


    One part of us remembered the deepest depths of a cell. We remembered how we felt as if there was a light far beyond that would grant us hope. We held onto that emotion, using it like an anchor.


    The Scythe opened her mouth to say something, but that choked off into a scream as we called on our heartfire healing. We beckoned that far-distant reach of her soul, wrenching the knowledge of what and how to heal her mind.


    We hadn¡¯t been able to do this before. Our understanding of the mind and the soul were too vague and sparse. But now, I knew better how the two intertwined and danced in a constant waltz, the soul taking the lead.


    Our heartfire washed through the Scythe¡¯s skull, rearranging and fixing and mending. Every inch of Orlaeth¡¯s work was slowly undone as the minutes stretched on and on. She screamed at first. But when the stress on her mind became too much, she fell silent, her eyes rolling back into her head.


    Maybe she could have resisted such magic, once upon a time. Maybe she could have used her mana and mental mastery to protect herself from any influence¡ªif our spell was mana-based in nature.


    But the bonds of aether¡ªthe pull of Viessa¡¯s soul? At this moment, it answered only to me. We were her gods. And one day, she would beg at our feet like a prostrate sinner for daring to infringe upon the divine. She would beg and weep, and we would not grant mercy.


    We savored the work, knowing deep inside what this would eventually lead to. Even as our shatterpoint rage slowly simmered away into disgust at our plans, we did not relent. We did not cease.


    When my work was done, I rose to my full height. Soulplume fell away as its searing effects retreated back into my core. Aurora¡¯s mind drifted away from mine as the unifying effect vanished. And as I stared at my hands, and then back to the Scythe on the ground, my fingers trembled in quiet horror.


    ¡°What did you do to her?¡± a voice whispered from not far away.


    Internally, Aurora turned away, feeling the same sense of quiet shame and horror as our impulsive anger cooled.


    I closed my fists, then opened them again. The blood coating them slowly sizzled into red mist as I absorbed Viessa¡¯s lifeforce.


    ¡°Viessa could never feel happiness. Orlaeth stripped it from her mind,¡± I said quietly, not turning to look at Seris from where she stood at the edge of the crater. ¡°She can now.¡±


    The Scythe hesitated, looking down at the body beneath my feet, then back to me. Embers of white fire still danced in the shattered black diamond vault. Distantly, I was aware that Seris had watched the entirety of what we¡ªAurora and I both, united in purpose¡ªhad done. Not far away, Chul¡¯s unconscious body was laid against a wall. Intact. Unharmed. Alive.


    Seris had no doubt put together the exact same picture I had. Viessa had intruded into this place via her tempus warp, intending to take Chul away. Likely under the command of Agrona himself. And in the process, she had laid illusions over both of us that painted a grim picture meant to frame the Scythe of Sehz-Clar for the son of Dawn¡¯s supposed murder¡ªand then draw my ire.


    Viessa knew from our first bout part of what drove me. Those damnable mental magics of hers had pried my insecurities and need for brotherhood to the surface, and she¡¯d used them to taunt and ridicule me.


    So when she saw what she thought might be an opportunity to sew chaos and cause bloodshed, the witch had tried to use it to cover her escape. For no other reason than cruelty.


    ¡°Why?¡± the Scythe asked, her voice a quiet whisper. She stood like a disappointed, sorrowful angel at the edge of that crater, like my conscience made manifest and come to judge me.


    I clenched my fists, the talons of my shrouded spirit creaking. I didn¡¯t look at Seris, feeling shame for what I would still do. ¡°Because one day, I will begin a hunt. And she will run and flee, because now she has something precious to lose. So when I find her and she begs for mercy, she will find none.¡±


    My lover did not respond for a time. ¡°That is cruel.¡±


    I painfully remembered the vision I¡¯d seen of Seris in the aftermath of Burim¡¯s devastation. She had only been so hurt because she¡¯d felt hope. Because she¡¯d felt light.


    That was how you broke someone. You gave them hope, then ripped it away.


    ¡°It is wrong,¡± Aurora thought to me. ¡°It is wrong, what we have done. It is something drawn from the twisted mind of Agrona himself.¡±


    And yet still, we both would not undo it.


    ¡°I can think of nothing more cruel,¡± I agreed.


    I wondered, then. Would Viessa ever risk returning to her Sovereigns? Without an arm, I wondered how long she could even maintain her position as Scythe before Victoriad challenges would arise.


    And if Viessa ever dared to reveal that she had been healed to Orlaeth¡­


    Well, I knew enough to guess what would happen to her. The Sovereign of the Mind¡ªas Seris had told me before¡ªtook interest in lesser affairs above all the other Vritra. He wouldn¡¯t waste time in scooping up the errant Scythe to discover what exactly had changed in Viessa¡¯s mind.


    Would she risk that? Would she ever risk going to Taegrin Caelum again and potentially burning her new emotions away? Or would she let me hunt her like the dog she was, desperately clinging onto the hope that she could find joy in her life?


    Seris didn¡¯t say anything for a long time. Neither of us did. Distantly, I was aware that some mages were scrambling throughout the castle, trying to figure out what had made it shake and tremble so much.


    Seris visibly considered her words for a few minutes, her features masked. I didn¡¯t peer at her intent. Something inside me was too tired to do so. ¡°Viessa came here with a mission, and she will need to report back. If I do anything to obstruct her, it will make my tasks difficult.¡±


    I snorted emptily. ¡°She has a tempus warp, probably. Just¡­ send her body somewhere else. Or keep her caged. Tell whoever comes to interrogate you about Chul that I intervened and stopped you both from complying.¡±


    Though the light was low, I could sense Seris¡¯ brows furrowing. ¡°That will implicate you, Toren,¡± she said softly, the walls absorbing her words. ¡°Not even I can save you from obstructing the High Sovereign¡¯s orders.¡±


    I closed my eyes, feeling that earlier acknowledgment rise up from my core like bile. The knowledge that I could never return to Alacrya until I was strong enough to fight the asura coiled like rot, eating away at me from within. Until I was great enough to stand on my own against the Sovereigns and I could protect those I cared for, I could never let myself inch closer to Agrona¡¯s hands.


    ¡°I know,¡± I replied, feeling loose. ¡°But it was inevitable anyway.¡±


    I contemplated my next word for a moment, wondering what I could say. No doubt Seris understood this. No doubt she could see what this was. But I¡­ I didn¡¯t want to talk about it. I didn¡¯t want to say it aloud to her.


    I was spared that worry, however, as a heartbeat¡ªone slightly tired¡ªbegan to slowly pulse with awareness not far away.


    Aurora¡¯s emotions shifted, a new emotion seeping in to mix with the hope. The Unseen World overlaid my vision as the asuran shade stepped past Viessa¡¯s unconscious body, her hopeful eyes staring into the darkness. Even the utter evil we had planned and prepared for was muted by the surge of motherly warmth and care that soothed our rage.


    Chul groaned, a meaty hand scratching at his head. The brute¡¯s bulky body had been laid against the far wall, and the remnants of shackles adorned his wrists. He blinked blearily, his massive body heaving as the ambient mana churned about him. His head lolled weakly as he wrenched himself from unconsciousness. His feather-red hair floated away from his face, allowing me to see him clearly.


    And then he lifted his chin, seeming to focus for the first time.


    Two eyes looked at me in confusion. One, the pure-lake blue of the djinn. The other, the burning, orange-red of the phoenix.

 Prologue: A Gamble

    ???


    I sagged against my irons, the strength required to hold myself upright too precious to waste on something so trivial. The cold metal bit into my sallow skin, my wrists raw and aching from my time spent lashed to the deep dungeon wall. My state was undignified. I couldn¡¯t see my body: hadn¡¯t for what felt like an age. But I knew I withered like a rose left in the sun without water or care. My power and will ebbed away more with each day I spent chained.


    But all of my strength, everything I could muster, was focused on a far more pressing fight than maintaining a facade of dignity.


    The invading tendril of mana dipped and weaved through my mind, seeking and probing every which way. Every place it brushed sent sharp fear through my body, like pressing a thumb into an open wound. I couldn¡¯t let this force subsume me any more than it already had.


    It was a constant struggle. Whenever the probe got close, I desperately pulled my secrets deeper. I was like a child desperately holding onto their belongings, clutching them close for fear their parents would rip them away.


    I pulled aside, fearfully watching the tendril slither ever closer to me. The same game had been played hundreds of times before, all with the same outcome. But I couldn¡¯t let myself lose without a fight.


    My concentration slipped, the strain of holding every puzzle piece that made me whole too much to bear. I let out a breath, something that I only distantly registered.


    My lapse cost me. Cost me dearly.


    The tendril suddenly swerved, lurching toward a memory I had been too slow to recover. It surged after the retreating knowledge like a wolf that had caught the scent of blood, hounding its target with all the tenacity of a predator seeking its prey.


    Panic rose in me. I pulled at the memory, hauling it along back with everything else that made me me. I couldn¡¯t let him have more. The strands of emotion and everything it meant to me retreated quickly at my command, dipping and weaving back toward the deepest bulwarks of my mind.


    The chase continued on: my pull dodged and weaved through the recesses of my self, whipping and turning around metaphysical walls and barriers. I pulled every trick I could muster to the fore, doing everything in my power to get it away from the hounding evil.


    A wall of solid thought barred the way, cutting off the tendril''s path with a mental thud. The tendril didn¡¯t stall for a moment, burrowing through my defense like a worm through the soil. It burst through the other side, having not slowed down at all.


    My determination didn¡¯t waver any longer. Another wall covered my retreat. Another. Then another. And another.


    The bastions I had set down in my mind, fit to thwart even the most stalwart of asura, were bypassed with contemptuous ease. The snakelike extension of mana burrowed through one, wove out of the way of another, and eliminated some in a burst of power.


    Switching tactics¨Ceven though I knew it was for naught¨CI dug pits in my mindscape. I ravaged the ¡®land¡¯ behind me, carving out tracks and creating ravines to bar the way forward.


    I could almost feel my pursuer¡¯s amusement as they bridged each and every gap, circumvented every obstacle, and closed the metaphysical gap with each passing second.


    I wasn¡¯t fast enough; wasn¡¯t strong enough. The tendril pursued with dogged determination, stretching on and on with a surety I lacked. It knew¨Che knew¨Cthat my moment of weakness had cost me. It was a crucial error.


    And soon enough, the disgusting smokey black tendril caught up with my memory. It wrapped itself around the retreating form, attaching itself like a parasite as I tried desperately to erect another pointless wall. A scream rocked my mindscape as sundering pain lanced through my everything. The tendril pulsed with mana, sucking away my memory as a leech drained blood.


    I fought. I lashed out at the tendril, determined and undeterred at first. But as my memory slowly withered away like a drained husk, my resistance became one of despair. And with a sickening pull, the memory was finally subsumed.


    Connections I hadn¡¯t even known about frayed at the edges. Everything the memory was associated with shifted sideways, the emotions contained in them suddenly adrift and confused. Why did I feel this way? What made this experience so important?


    All that was left was a gaping wound in my mind, the edges raw and festering. I couldn¡¯t restrain the tears that fell from my eyes, trailing molten fire down my sunken cheeks. I didn¡¯t know what I had lost, but the broken connections with the rest of my soul echoed of emotion and fulfillment that had just been ripped away.


    The tendril retreated with its prize, weaving back through my defenses at a leisurely pace.


    I opened my eyes.


    Agrona Vritra stood before me, rubbing his chin with an idle smirk on his sharp face. His eyes smiled with satisfaction, something that made the tender edges of my memory ache even further.


    He tilted his head, the myriad golden chains and trinkets adorning his elk-like horns jingling with the movement. His scarlet eyes glowed in the low light of my cell.


    ¡°Ah, that was interesting,¡± he said, still massaging his chin. ¡°It took so long for me to burrow this deep into your subconscious,¡± he continued. ¡°To think what you were protecting was so¡­ mundane. It tells me so much about what else might be hiding in that mind of yours.¡±


    I held back a sob, sagging against my shackles. The High Sovereign of Alacrya raised a hand to my cheek, stroking it almost delicately. I shivered at his touch, the grey skin of the basilisk seeming more akin to the reaching grasp of the reaper.


    ¡°You¡¯ve resisted far more than most in the depths of my laboratory,¡± he commented idly. ¡°There is a reason for that, we both know. What you are trying to protect must be precious indeed. Few things can motivate a person as much as protecting others.¡±


    His smile grew past a lopsided smirk. ¡°And fewer motivations still can match the love a mother has for her child.¡±


    I closed my eyes, unable to watch the Vritra any longer. He had taken something from me. What had he taken? Why did it hurt so much?


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon,¡± he said with clear amusement. ¡°I think we¡¯re both onto something here, Lady Dawn.¡±


    The cold echo of the High Sovereign¡¯s boots on stone and the creak of metal told me all I needed to know. He was gone for now, leaving me to wallow in my misery. To contemplate what he had taken. I tried to seek it, delving back into my past.


    A memory flashed before my eyes; something I held dear to me.


    I watched young Chul rushing to a winding stream. It was the only one in the Hearth, making it a novelty for all the children present. He was chasing after a ball of some sort. When he reached it, the young half-phoenix kicked it into the air with a flare of mana, sending it over the water.


    Another child was there to receive it, bouncing it against their chest in a display of skill. Their pinkish skin hinted at the other child¡¯s djinni heritage, something only possible in the depths of the Hearth. They bounced it into the air, then headbutted it back across the water.


    Chul rushed to intercept it, just barely managing to send it back. I remembered the amusement and warmth I felt as I watched him get up, his determination swelling.


    ¡°You won¡¯t win this! I¡¯m gonna beat you into the dirt!¡± he cried, his typical hotheadedness overriding his good sense. Chul returned the ball with a deft overhand slap, but his opponent was ready for it. They casually caught it with the hook of their heel, returning it lower than expected.


    The ball whizzed between Chul¡¯s legs, causing him to stumble face-first into the dirt.


    ¡°Who¡¯s eating dirt now?¡± the child on the other side of the water taunted, savoring their victory. ¡°Little old Chul, can¡¯t even return the ball!¡±


    Chul quickly pulled himself to his feet. Even from the back, I could see an embarrassed red creeping into his ears. ¡°Shut up, Jani! You¡¯re just as little as me!¡±


    Jani stuck his tongue out. ¡°But you lost! That means you¡¯re littler than me!¡±


    ¡°Not true! You take that back!¡± Chul yelled back, about ready to leap over the water and start a brawl with Jani himself.


    Jani, seeing this, retreated slightly from the water¡¯s edge. ¡°Is Chuli gonna hurt me too?¡± he asked mockingly. My son recoiled as if he had been slapped, leaving Jani to laugh. Satisfied with his victory, Jani ran after a few more friends, leaving my son alone on one side of the river. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I slowly meandered over to my boy, who slumped dejectedly in the sand. He sniffled slightly, facing the water with an aura of defeat about him.


    ¡°Was I gonna hurt him?¡± Chul asked, still watching the water. ¡°The other boys say that¡¯s all I¡¯m good for. Punching things.¡±


    I knelt by his side, uncaring of the soil that clung to my orange sundress. I brushed a bit of dirt from the back of his orange hair, something he had inherited from me. ¡°You¡¯re good at so much more, little bird,¡± I said, laying a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Just yesterday you made your father and me those wonderful cookies. Those tasted amazing, didn¡¯t they?¡±


    Some of the tension left Chul¡¯s shoulders at that, causing a warm smile to stretch across my face. ¡°Do you really mean it?¡± he asked, watching the other children play. ¡°I always wanna fight. It¡¯s so hard to stop. The other kids say I¡¯m stupid. That because I can¡¯t think like them, I punch things instead.¡±


    I restrained the urge to glare at the kids across the water. Children could be cruel. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what they think, little bird. We both know the truth, don¡¯t we? You¡¯re so passionate. It¡¯s them who should be sad. They don¡¯t get to know how wonderful you are. They don¡¯t know how happy you make us.¡±


    Chul turned to face me, the first time he had since the start of the memory. My heart shattered like glass.


    For where his face should have been was a rippling black fog. It swirled and writhed, creating an empty void where my greatest joy should¡¯ve been. The Vritra corrupted everything they touched, seeping into all I knew and cherished.


    The memory fell from my mind like the shards of a broken vase. I hastily pulled interactions from everywhere else I could. In every memory of my little boy, his face was a veil of dark smog.


    I remembered holding him in deep orange swaddling clothes, his father watching us nearby. I remembered the deep love I felt: the joy of bringing something so precious into the world. We had done something impossible. But the tiny bundle of warmth in my hands was cloaked in deep black. I could hear his wails as he wailed for the first time, but I could not see his mouth utter the cry.


    Agrona Vritra knew the face of my son. I did not.


    I wept anew, the wound in my mind joining the hundreds of others that pockmarked my memory. The Lord of the Vritra had scoured my brain for everything he could, eroding my experience and knowledge with every touch.


    But this memory was closer to my sense of self than he had ever reached. So many connections and memories were tied to the face of my son. And they were all snapped, reaching for a source of comfort and warmth that was ripped from me. Every precious moment with my little Chul was tainted by the dark smog of the Vritra. Every wholesome moment was blackened with his horrid taint. Every time I gazed upon my son, I was forced to remember the intrusion of Agrona.


    I had long given up hope of escaping the basilisk¡¯s clutches alive. I was in the heart of his power in the depths of Taegrin Caelum. And he was only set to gather more strength: the Legacy¡¯s reincarnation was soon at hand, and with her by his side Agrona would raze everything¨Cand everyone¨Cthat would oppose him to the ground.


    Reincarnation.


    My thoughts snagged on that information. The High Sovereign knew much of the nature of the soul. He had ripped it from my fellow phoenixes, divining a level of knowledge from dissecting our minds. But I had guarded my understanding zealously. I would not give him more information; more ammunition to aim at my Hearth.


    The cool grip of my shackles locked my mana inside of me. I could not project it or manipulate the ambient energy in the air. For practically every other asura, this essentially crippled any attempt to fight back or escape. Without our lifeblood, we were nothing.


    But the arts of the soul relied on a deeper power than mana alone. They responded only to the power of aether. Of time, space, and life. The higher energy of the world; of every world.


    I pulled on the mana within me, making it swirl and pulse in rhythm. I had to exert more force than ever before to compel my own mana to move, the twisted chains of the High Sovereign cutting off my power. But I pushed through, the rising anger from the taint that infected my memories driving me forward. I called out in internal song, beckoning the aether to respond.


    The most fundamental aether art of all phoenixes was the ability to reconstruct our bodies from apparent death, granting us a rebirth in the most fundamental sense. We sculpted ourselves back to the land of the living block by block, cell by cell. The only guidance we had was our mind: and our soul.


    Only the dragons could influence aether, with phoenixes being the notable exception. And I was unique among even phoenixes. My power responded to me: hesitantly and distantly, the staccato of my heartbeat pulling the energy that bound the world to my call. The chains that held me wouldn¡¯t allow me to alter my body or escape normally. But it did not bind my soul.


    Aether wrapped around my mind, condensing everything I had left of myself. I hoarded it preciously, locking it together as best I could. I had never tried this before, but I would rather fail and die than let the High Sovereign blacken my past with his horrid touch anymore.


    My internal song rose in pitch, reaching a crescendo of power. By now my cell had begun to rattle with the force, the slowly forming spell pressing against the confines of my body. Guards rushed away from my cell, calling for help and assistance.


    Blood leaked from the edges of my mouth, my body straining from the buildup of my spell. The minuscule amount of mana I had left was burning away in a conflagration of power, fueling my last bid for freedom. I would succeed, or I would die.


    I felt Agrona coming before I ever saw him. His presence was indomitable and undeniable, rushing down toward the depths of his sanctum in a burst of asuran speed. I might have felt dread before, but all that fueled me was righteous anger.


    The High Sovereign skidded to a halt in front of my cell, reaching a hand out to pressure me with his King¡¯s Force. I smiled at him through bloody teeth, knowing he was already far too late.


    My spell reached a fever pitch, ringing with emotion and strength I had never expected to feel again. And like a balloon popping after being filled with too much air, my soul burst outward. I felt weightless and free for a moment, the confines of my body no longer restricting my mind. But then everything began to blacken around the edges, the deep dark pulling at my awareness. As my consciousness faded into the void, I felt a strange sense of peace washing over me.


    For better or for worse, the dice had been cast.


    ---


    I''ve been posting this story for a while now on a few other sites, but I''ve been a long-time reader on RoyalRoad. I figured I''d finally bite the bullet and upload here, too! I would absolutely love any and all criticism that readers here can provide.


    As of this first chapter uploaded on RR, I have 116 chapters up across the other platforms I use--so it''s going to be a dump.

 Chapter 1: Awakening

    ???


    My mind struggled to function as I slowly awoke. I felt abnormally sluggish this morning, for whatever reason. I racked my brain for a reason why. Was I drinking last night? I felt like I did whenever I was hungover: lethargic to the extreme.


    I cracked open my eyes at last, finally willing to brave the morning. I expected to see my bedroom, pristine and well-kept as always. I expected to see a computer across the room, a bookshelf by its side filled with as many books as I could feasibly shove into it.


    But that wasn¡¯t what I saw. Instead, the bloody and ripped corpse of several somethings lay strewn about my feet. They looked like no animal I had ever seen: a horrendous cross between a rat and some sort of scaled lizard.


    I stumbled back on all fours, scrabbling for purchase as I tried to get the hell away. The beady eyes of the bodies seem to track me as I floundered piteously backward.


    ¡°What the hell, what the hell, what the hell!¡± I yelled, my voice abnormally scratchy. I whipped my head from side to side, hyperventilating in this new situation. I reached a hand to my chest instinctively, trying to calm my breathing and get myself under control.


    My hand came back sticky with red blood. A hand that was too small; too young to be my own. Looking down, the realization scared me into a strange sense of giddiness. Blood pooled at my feet, far too much for me to have lost and still be alive.


    I blinked. Oh, I realized with relief. I¡¯m dreaming.


    I chuckled a bit crookedly at my hand, the situation overwhelming me. I got to my feet, turning about. I rarely ever lucid dreamed, but when I did I felt in control in a way that was impossible in real life.


    I scanned my surroundings with an exhausted sweep of my head. I was in a tall forest of some sort. The leaves were mish-mashes of oranges and reds, clearly in the middle of autumn. They stretched far into the sky, masking the sun somewhat from the forest floor. It wasn¡¯t quite like a rainforest, but semi-close, I supposed. I was in a clearing of foliage, with only the dead bodies of the rat-lizards to keep me company.


    But this doesn¡¯t feel like a dream, I thought to myself, beginning to hyperventilate again. The modicum of calm I had managed after waking up was quickly being swept away by a tide of uncertainty. This felt very, very real for a dream. Too real. The scents in the air: fresh soil mixed with the coppery tinge of fresh blood, told of the recent dead. The ambient noise of a forest echoed around me. Crickets, birdcalls, and more whispered the truth of my situation to my ears.


    My thoughts were stopped dead in their tracks, however, as the world darkened around me. Deep fog-like mists swirled across the ground, and the world seemed to shrink. My senses felt¡­ muted, for lack of a better term. Dampened by the rushing of something. I grasped for sense, something to keep me anchored as I fought back another panic attack.


    Maybe I was high? But I¡¯d never done anything like LSD. I¡¯d heard stories, of course: and this seemed like something only a man on acid would experience. The colors shifting and swapping, the mind showing you things that weren¡¯t there. But did LSD show you things that didn¡¯t exist? I didn¡¯t think so. But I could be wrong. But what would I be high on if not that? I didn¡¯t know-


    ¡°So you are the one chosen for my Vessel?¡± a voice asked behind me.


    I spun, nearly tripping as I came face-to-face with the speaker. She looked nothing like anything I knew, either, as foreign as the rat-lizards. She was slightly translucent, like some sort of ghost. Her skin was a dark, smokey purple. Hair the color of flame stretched from her head to her midback like feathers, accentuated by a bright orange dress that seemed to float across her form. Her clothes were embroidered with a violet lining that mimicked fire. An outline of pinkish-orange light backlit her like a rising sun, creating a blazing contrast to the darkness around her.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± I asked stupidly. I had crossed this experience off as being a dream. If I was high, was this woman real at all? Or a figment of my imagination?


    The woman walked forward slowly, with a poise in her gait that I found very intimidating. I took another wary step back, but the woman reached me faster than expected.


    ¡°I expected¡­ more. Something¨Csomeone¨C


    competent. Someone who might be able to assist me.¡± She cocked her head slightly, examining me in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable. Her eyes blazed like fire, and I had trouble meeting her gaze as it bore into me. ¡°You appear to be neither.¡±


    I gulped. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll help if I can,¡± I said awkwardly. The strange feather-woman before me was the only thing not tinged by the strange dark hue the rest of my vision had taken on, besides my own self. ¡°Don¡¯t know what I could do, though,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m tripping balls really damn hard right now. Maybe ask me later? When colors aren¡¯t wonky?¡± I hedged nervously.


    The woman narrowed her eyes, then began to circle me.


    I felt distinctly like some sort of prey animal being circled by a hawk. Or maybe a vulture. I licked my lips as I turned to keep the woman in my sight, feeling well over my head. Her boots made no sound, I realized as she stepped across the bodies of the slain rat-lizards.


    ¡°You do not know where you are,¡± she said, the blunt statement settling into my disrupted mind. The woman stopped, facing me once more. ¡°What is the last thing you remember?¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it with a click. My eyes widened as I finally focused on my memory.


    I had been driving back from something¨CI couldn¡¯t remember what, exactly. I was with someone, I think. It was late at night, and I was on the winding country roads that I was intimately familiar with. But something had gone wrong. I remembered a blaring white light, the face of the oncoming driver, the sound of a horn¨C


    ¡°Oh my god,¡± I said, my legs giving out from under me. I gripped the grass with hands too young to be my own. I vomited onto the ground, the acidic taste of bile lingering on my tongue. I heaved several more times, my mind taking reprieve in the action before nothing remained in my stomach.


    ¡°I died,¡± I whispered, staring numbly at the dark vomit, the colors tinged by the strange effect on my vision. ¡°I should be dead. Nothing could survive that kind of crash.¡±


    ¡°No, not dead.¡± the woman said nearby. ¡°Not anymore.¡±


    I raised my head, still resting on my forearms and knees. ¡°How?¡± I asked, confused and more than a little bit scared. ¡°I-am I in the afterlife?¡±


    A frown crossed the woman¡¯s face before she banished it back to her normal stern expression. ¡°No. I had a need for a messenger; someone to fulfill my needs. But my grasp into the aether seems to have been¡­ for naught.¡± Her face shifted into an expression I could not grasp. ¡°Agrona wins, then. Unless I can make something of you.¡±


    My eyes widened. ¡°Agrona?¡± I asked, spitting out the taste of acid so I could speak more easily. That name was familiar. Dreadfully familiar. ¡°Agrona Vritra?¡± I said again, incredulous.


    The woman cocked her head again, looking at me like a bird. Her feather-red hair ruffled in an unseen breeze. ¡°You know of him?¡±


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    I fell onto my back, the implications a thunderstorm in my head. If Agrona Vritra existed, then that meant I was on Dicathen. Or Alacrya. Or Epheotus. I was in a world that should be fiction. The Beginning After the End was a book series, after all.


    I revisited the possibility that I was dreaming once more. In a desperate test, I slammed my hand down hard onto a nearby rock, cutting a jagged slice across my palm.


    Pain lanced across my hand, a telling sign of my true situation. This wasn¡¯t a dream.


    I laughed aloud madly, cackling at the absurdity of my situation. The woman watched with the same stern, disapproving expression as before all the while, only feeding my laughter more.


    I was either the highest a man had ever been or I had the world¡¯s greatest prank being played on me.


    I remembered the flashing headlights again: the giant truck slamming into the front of my tiny sedan¨C


    Or I was reincarnated into a world that should be fiction. Shouldn¡¯t be real. Shouldn¡¯t have me.


    Fuck.


    After what could¡¯ve been minutes or hours, I finally quieted down from my raucous laughter. My situation began to finally sink in as I stared up past the autumn leaves into the sky, which looked like it was in perpetual dawn due to my tinged vision.


    ¡°Am I on Alacrya?¡± I asked numbly, not bothering to look at the ever-patient ghost woman. If she was musing about Agrona, chances were I was in that hellhole.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she responded curtly. ¡°You are on the continent of Alacrya, in the Dominion of Sehz-Clar.¡±


    I sat up, feeling empty. I turned to the woman, who I now could begin to recognize. ¡°You¡¯re a phoenix?¡± I asked, finally recognizing the coloration of her skin and strangely platted hair.


    She looked mildly surprised by this question. ¡°I am,¡± she said. ¡°Or¡­ I was,¡± she cocked her head once more, reminding me once again of the bird that she no doubt used to be. ¡°I did not expect you to know of this world. It is unprecedented.¡±


    The implicit question was obvious. I slowly struggled to my feet, noting the worn appearance of my brown trousers. Slashes and tears stretched across the surface, but it was wearable. ¡°My world had¡­ knowledge of yours,¡± I said numbly, taking in my appearance as best I could. My shirt was a lighter brown than my trousers, but no less rugged. A large tear stretched across the chest where the splatters of blood stained it. My hair was short, but without a mirror, I wouldn¡¯t be able to tell much more about this¡­ new body. ¡°But this world shouldn¡¯t be real,¡± I said tiredly, scanning my surroundings once more. What was paranoia and fear had faded to a dull resignation.


    ¡°But it is real,¡± I heard the phoenix say, a note of iron in her tone. ¡°And now you are a part of it. And whether you like it or not, lesser, we are bound together. We make do with what we have.¡± Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I snorted again as I brushed off my pants. Her derisive tone implied much of what she thought of me. ¡°I know nothing of mana, phoenix. I don¡¯t know if there is anything I can do to affect this world for the better. Or if I can even live through what is coming.¡±


    The phoenix walked back into my vision, her steps so smooth it seemed closer to gliding over the earth. ¡°But the previous occupant of this body did,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°They knew mana well. And so should you, now that their control has been relinquished.¡±


    Disgust welled in my throat as I looked down at my hands once more. ¡°Did¨Cdid I take this boy¡¯s body?¡± I said with rising horror. ¡°Eat his soul or something? Subsume him?¡±


    The phoenix raised a hand with fluid grace, pointing at my chest. ¡°No. The boy was nearing death anyways. I gave him a choice. He could bleed out after a hopeless last stand, or give up his body to another, who would use it for a better cause.¡±


    I looked around at the slaughtered creatures¨Cmana beasts?--which surrounded me. There were less than half a dozen, all with small chunks in their bodies. The one closest had claws washed in blood¨Cmy blood.


    The phoenix noticed my hesitation. ¡°Regardless of circumstance, you will need magic to escape this forest alive. Without it, the mana beasts will sense you and rip you apart, as they once did.¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut. ¡°How?¡± I asked shakily. ¡°How do I access my mana?¡±


    The phoenix stared for a moment, seeming to come to a decision. ¡°Look inwards. Focus on the power within you; it should be second nature. Your blood knows it now. Your soul knows it.¡±


    I looked up at the sky, a million questions near to bursting from my mouth. But the phoenix was right: I couldn¡¯t afford to stay in this forest, wherever it was. And if I wanted to make it out alive with this second chance of mine, I needed to use whatever magic this boy had originally.


    I sat down in the grass, closing my eyes and peering ¡®inward¡¯ as best I could. I had never taken to meditation well, but it was the closest thing to what I guessed I needed.


    I was surprised when I almost immediately latched onto something within. I couldn¡¯t see so much as feel the shape of my core; its color and purity. It was a strange sensation. A stream of mana pulsed from my core to my lower back, connecting to a rune there.


    A crest, I knew from some phantom echo. A crest of Telekinesis.


    The knowledge felt as if I was dredging up some old memory. It took mild effort, but I was able to press mana from my core to the rune. The experience felt natural; like I had been doing it for a long time.


    I opened my eyes, focusing on a nearby pebble. With a force of will, I pushed it with my mind. The area behind the rock flared white, then the stone shot off into the woods, impacting something with a dull thud beyond my perception.


    I blinked.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said dumbly. ¡°That works.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± The phoenix said from nearby, her inferno eyes tracing where the rock had shot off. ¡°And none too soon, lesser. Dusk approaches, and mana beasts will be on the prowl in force. I suggest you move.¡±


    A wave of indignant irritation rose in my chest at being called lesser, but I was too tired to care. Carefully, I patted myself down and searched my pockets. My efforts were rewarded when I retrieved a small pouch.


    Within were several coins, minted copper with a stamp of what I assumed was Agrona¡¯s head, considering the elk-like horns stretching from the figure¡¯s scalp. An aged metal key was also present, but the real gain was the crumpled piece of paper I retrieved.


    Unfurling it revealed a letter written in neat letters.


    To Toren Daen:


    We regret to inform you that your relative, Norgan Daen, succumbed to their injuries on the 4th of October, 1736 SR. As next of kin, all of Norgan¡¯s property and personal possessions now belong to you. As is customary, Norgan¡¯s body will be released to you upon request or tended to as you see fit. We send our condolences for your loss.


    Sincerely,


    East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild.


    Emotions pulsed in my gut: foreign emotions. They fluctuated with a mix of anger and despair as I read the note, pieces coming together in my mind. I grit my teeth unconsciously, feeling the emotion the previous owner of this body must have had.


    I understood now, at least somewhat. My name in this world was Toren Daen, and it seemed that one of my relatives¨Ca parent? A cousin? A sibling? Sibling felt right to me, like it fit a puzzle piece in my soul--had recently died. The despair was enough to drive this young man into a suicidal trek into these woods.


    The emotions were muted; distant in a strange way, but if I pressed I could feel them more acutely.


    I crumpled the piece of paper in my hand, then shoved it back into my pocket.


    Toren, whoever you were, I thought solemnly, I hope you can have your own second chance at life. I am grateful that you granted me my own.


    I turned to the phoenix, who waited patiently as I reviewed my inventory. ¡°I¡¯m ready to go,¡± I said. I furrowed my brows. ¡°Does the sun set in the west in this world?¡± I asked.


    The phoenix tilted her head, her reddish hair rustling. ¡°Yes, it does.¡±


    I took a deep breath, looking up at the sky and using the setting sun to angle myself. I didn¡¯t have an exact memory, but I had a sort of gut feeling that to get out, I needed to head north. That was another thing I was grateful to Toren for.


    As I took my first few steps, I halted in my tracks. I turned slightly to the shade that followed. ¡°What should I call you?¡± I asked. ¡°It feels rude to keep calling you ¡®phoenix¡¯ in my head.¡±


    A slight upturn of the asura¡¯s lips was the closest thing I had seen to a smile on her face. ¡°I am best known as Lady Dawn,¡± she said smoothly.


    The restrictive tinge to my vision wavered, then vanished as if swept away by the wind. Color returned to my perception, and the dulled sounds and scents assaulted my senses as they returned to their prior strengths. Lady Dawn was nowhere to be seen.

 Chapter 2: A Hike in Another World

    Toren Daen


    I knew how the runic magic of Alacrya worked, at least in theory. Runes could be bestowed upon mages in ranks: first were marks, then crests, emblems, and finally regalias. A rune gave its owner a basic understanding of its function, and through understanding and mastery could be upgraded to greater tiers.


    Mine was a telekinesis rune that could push or pull on objects.


    And so, as I slowly walked north, keeping my eyes nervously peeled for mana beasts, I tested the limits of my crest. Picking up a small rock, I concentrated my mana flow into the runic marking on my back. I felt the warmth suffuse my body, and with an effort of will, targeted the small stone in my hand.


    A small burst of white mana behind the rock preluded it shooting off with considerable force, as if I had thrown it with my hands. I heard a dull thump in the distance, causing my shoulders to tense in nervous apprehension. I paused in my slow walk, glancing around once more. If some mana beast had heard that¡­


    Seconds ticked by with only the chirping of birds to greet my ears. I relaxed slightly and continued my testing.


    Further experiments revealed the range of the effect. I could push or pull things in a radius of about fifteen feet around me, but the further out my ¡®reach¡¯ extended, the less force I could muster. The force I could use seemed to decrease exponentially as my will tried to affect things farther away.


    I was now holding a sizable rock in my hands, weighing a little under ten pounds if I guessed right. My next experiment would be important.


    I pushed with as much force as I could muster quickly, a noticeable drain on my mana reserves. The rock shot upwards so fast I stumbled back. The burst of white mana underneath it had also been far more pronounced. I tilted my head up, watching the stone careen into the sky and off beyond my sight.


    ¡°Probably faster than any baseball player I know,¡± I said with awe. This was only a crest as well, and from what I could feel, Toren hadn¡¯t had much practice with the spellform before he decided to waltz into mana beast territory in a suicidal gamble.


    For my next test, I walked over to a nearby tree, raising my hand towards the bark. With a light press of mana that was getting easier and easier each time, I pressed lightly against the bark. The bark began to slowly indent as mana funneled through my rune, a small glob of white mana pushing against the tree. As this happened, I felt a slight pushback against my hand. It seemed that my rune operated on familiar Newtonian physics, at least. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. Every time I pushed something, that something pushed back.


    A dozen different ideas coursed through my head at the implications, but a quick glance into the sky revealed that it was darkening quickly. I would have to pick up my pace if I wanted out by nightfall.


    As I made my way through the forest, now at a considerably brisker pace bordering on a jog, branches and fallen leaves crunched under my feet. Each step made me want to pick up my pace even more. For all I knew, with each crinkle of leaves, I drew a predator closer to my location. I picked up as many sizable rocks as I could as I ran, stashing them into my pouch as ammunition. The thought of fighting something made my pulse jump, but I couldn¡¯t avoid the possibility.


    I weaved through the autumn trees as the sun finally set. I wasn¡¯t in danger yet as far as I could tell. Light still seeped over the trees, and if this world operated anything like my own, it would be another half hour or so before it was truly dark. It seemed I wouldn¡¯t have to face any mana beasts that day.


    My mind began to wander slightly as I jogged, a habit of mine whenever I did monotonous work. The implications of being in another world started to build in my mind like a festering wound. Existential questions began to bubble upwards, pressing into my skull with a building migraine. If this world was real, what did that mean about other worlds that I thought were fiction? Did that mean Multiverse Theory was a concrete truth; that with infinite universes there were infinite possibilities? And with all the horrid things that occurred in this world, could I even survive?


    Scratch that, was my knowledge of the future even worth anything? If Multiverse Theory was true, then I could be in a timeline different from the one I purportedly knew of. I had felt a measure of security once I somewhat settled into the idea I was in another world because I knew the world well. But did I truly know this world?


    After all, Lady Dawn shouldn¡¯t be alive.


    She was an asura; a phoenix from Epheotus. In the novel, Agrona had captured her innumerable years ago, then allowed Cecilia¨Cthe Legacy¨Cto drain her of her mana, killing the phoenix and leaving her a husk.


    If my knowledge of the future held any weight, why was she with me?


    I noticed my spiraling thoughts and clamped down on them, hard. If there was anything I knew, it was that I needed to maintain control. Control of myself. These questions could be answered later when I wasn¡¯t in a monstrous forest that would maybe¨Cprobably¨Ctry and eat me alive once darkness set in.


    I had to slow down as shadow encroached on the world, the night stretching her grasp over the sky. I took more measured steps now, trying to avoid making too much noise. I wasn¡¯t as successful as I hoped.


    It was by a stroke of luck that I noticed the mana beast first. I heard a light rustling, and I froze in my tracks like a deer in the headlights. Rescanning my surroundings revealed a nearby clearing where a few of the rat-lizards snuffed about. They were a strange mix of brownish-green, with smatterings of scales across their bodies. They were each about as big as a medium-sized dog, with claws that I knew to be razor sharp on each of their limbs.


    They hadn¡¯t noticed me yet.


    Slowly, carefully, I began to try and tiptoe my way around. Sweat beaded on my brow as I forcefully calmed my breathing. I didn¡¯t want to fight these things. They had already killed this body once: they could do it again.


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    I was almost past the clearing when one of the rat-lizards began to sniff the air. My blood pressure spiked as it began to turn towards me slowly, following its nose. I took a hasty step backward, and with my horrid luck, snapped a twig.


    The rat-lizards turned their beady eyes to me with a predatory gleam.


    I ran, bolting as fast as my legs could carry me. I could hear the creatures following me, a strange mix of squeak and snarl emitting from their misshapen snouts. I didn¡¯t feel confident fighting these things, not as I was.


    They were gaining on me, however. My legs weren¡¯t as long as I was used to, and while this body certainly had better cardio than my old one considering I was still moving, my two legs struggled to outrun the four legs of the beasts behind me.


    I heard a break in the snarling, and I just barely managed to weave out of the way of a tree as one of the rat-lizards leaped at me. The creature slammed facefirst into the trunk with a satisfying crunch, but the edges of its claws had managed to trail across my left bicep. The cut burned, leaking a stream of blood as I continued to book it across the forest.


    Clenching my teeth against the pain, I grabbed a handful of rocks from my pouch. Twisting lightly to look behind me, I chucked a few small pebbles back, adding a push from my telekinesis just as they left my hand. It created the loose equivalent of a shotgun shell, accelerating the rocks from my throw with a wave of force. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The pebbles battered two of the rat-lizards, opening small wounds and scrapes across their bodies as the stones impacted. My monstrous pursuers stumbled, allowing me to gain more distance. My breathing grew more haggard, but a bead of hope sprouted in my chest. If I could damage these things enough to ward them off, I¡¯d make it out alive.


    A break in the treeline in the distance caused that sprout to blossom. Was that the edge of the forest? Had I finally gotten out?


    I picked up speed, ignoring the burning in my legs with the energy only adrenaline could provide. I was almost free!


    I burst past the treeline, heaving for breath, then skidded to a halt.


    Instead of exiting the forest, what greeted my eyes was a sheer rock wall stretching four stories into the air. It blocked my advance from either direction as far as I could see in the encroaching darkness.


    I shut my eyes tight, grit my teeth, and turned around. The ratlike bastards had slowed their approach, stalking forward in a wide line to box me in. I realized then that these creatures acted with a packlike coordination. They had chased me here into this dead end, and now they were savoring the fear I felt. My legs felt like jelly from the sprinting I¡¯d done, and my hair was matted to my scalp with sweat. My arm burned particularly badly where I had been cut, streaks of blood running off my clenched fist and into the dirt in a steady drip-drip-drip that seemed to ring in my ears. But I wouldn¡¯t go down without a fight.


    I dug into my pouch, withdrawing another handful of rocks. I didn¡¯t have many more after this, so I needed to make them count.


    The attack started rather predictably. One of the rat-lizards leapt at me, its jaws open wide. Instead of the buckteeth commonly associated with rodents, this mana beast had rows of serrated incisors that looked fit for shredding my flesh. From the slightly misshapen jaws, I recognized this as the one that had leaped at me and eaten a tree instead.


    I threw a larger rock this time, accelerating it with more precision than my last throw. The rock impacted the mana beast hard on the forehead, causing it to screech in pain midair. But the creature still sailed towards me.


    I tried to dodge to the side and avoid the body, but my exhausted legs failed me. I stumbled sideways, but the body clipped my side and threw me to the ground. I wheezed as the air was knocked from my lungs on impact. The other rocks in my hands scattered across the ground.


    I heard the screeches of the other two beasts as they ran for me, sensing weakness. Panicking, I used telekinesis to push as hard as I could against the ground. The force, predictably, pushed me back as well, flinging my body a few yards away haphazardly. I impacted my shoulder painfully, causing stars to race across my vision. My hasty reaction probably saved my life, as the two remaining rat-lizards kicked up a furrow of dirt after landing where I had once been.


    I scrambled to my feet, grasping at the now close wall of rock for support. My right shoulder hurt like hell, and sparing it a quick glance, I could clearly tell it was dislocated. I was lucky, however. These rat-lizards were rather predictable. Every time they attacked, it was with a catlike pounce. I could exploit that.


    The two mana beasts turned to me again, a murderous glare in the beady rodent eyes. The third rat-lizard was kicking its legs limply on the ground nearby in its death throes, the stone impacting its head enough to cause fatal brain damage. Its pack members didn¡¯t seem to care, spreading out and trying to flank me again.


    I clutched my limp arm, tracking both creatures as they moved forward. I could see the scrapes and small wounds I had caused them before with my spray of pebbles, small rivulets of blood mirroring my own. The rat-lizards continued their chitter-snarls, sending shivers up my spine.


    One of the beasts pounced at me predictably. With a press of mana into my spellform, instead of pushing, I pulled on the creature. I felt resistance against my mana for the briefest of moments from the monster¡¯s innate mana before my own spell broke through. The beast rocketed forward far faster than before under a flash of my white mana, and I twisted out of the way just in time for it to collide with the rock wall headfirst. The creature¡¯s head burst like an overripe melon on impact, splattering me with blood, bone, and brain matter.


    I didn¡¯t have time to collect myself before I was tackled to the dusty ground by the last mana beast. My dislocated shoulder was jostled painfully as my back hit the dirt. Sharp teeth bit into my left forearm as I desperately fended off the creature that was trying to rip out my throat. I screamed in pain, tears and sticky reddish wetness blurring my vision as my own blood splashed onto my face from my arm. The mana beast¡¯s gangly form pressed me into the dirt, inching toward an inevitable victory against a weakened foe.


    I flared my crest in desperation, pushing against the monster on my chest for all I was worth. It was shoved off of me, but its teeth tore a deeper furrow into my arm as it was ripped away. The beast sailed into the air a good ten feet before coming right back down into the dirt. A pained screech echoed from its snarl, guiding me onward in my bloody mission.


    With a rabid cry, I pulled myself to my feet. I wavered slightly, blood loss and pain making my consciousness hazy. I staggered over the stunned beast where it lay on the ground, raised my boot, and brought it down as hard as I could across the monster¡¯s throat.


    Once. Twice. Three times. Once bone finally crunched under my feet, I observed my work with wild, crazed eyes. The three mana beasts were all dead. One finally stilled with a large dent in its forehead. Another lacked a skull entirely, a smattering of viscera painting the stone wall. The third was crushed beneath my feet.


    With the last of my adrenaline, I locked my right arm between my legs and pushed. It popped back into place with a painful click, making me gasp sharply. The pain began to ramp up as the adrenaline coursing through my veins ran its course. My forearm was ripped to shreds, my shoulder ached, and the rest of my body was sore from the abuse I had put it through. Slight scrapes on my legs began to burn as I finally noticed them.


    I dry heaved, nausea rolling in my stomach. But I had already expelled everything in my stomach earlier that day, and all I did was aggravate my wounds as my body convulsed. Tears leaked from my eyes from the pain.


    Then I tipped over from exhaustion, and everything went black.

 Chapter 3: The Magics of Two Lands

    Toren Daen


    Sunlight and pain woke me up quickly. I weakly picked myself up from my position on the ground, wincing at the pain in my shoulder and the tears in my forearm. Where was I?


    Looking about sobered me quickly, bringing me back to the land of the living. The coppery smell of blood was thick in the air, and flies already buzzed around the bodies of the mana beasts. The sight made my stomach churn, but I held back the need to vomit.


    Right. I was in another world that shouldn¡¯t exist. And nearly died last night. Again.


    The pain was notably less, however, from what it was yesterday. Sparing a look at the torn flesh of my forearm, I noticed a significant buildup of mana around the wound. I felt like it was healing me, but at a faster rate than was natural.


    My mana sense was a strange thing. The more I felt, the more I remembered, for lack of a better term. I could recognize the ebbs and flows within my body with more clarity and certainty as I adapted to my new body.


    But I had more glaring concerns right now. I was very, very thirsty. And as far as I could tell, there was no water in sight.


    But I needed to move. The smell of blood would undoubtedly draw more predators. I was lucky enough to last the night without any.


    Before I left, however, I ripped a strip of cloth from my already ragged shirt. It was far from clean; covered in grass stains, blood, and dirt. But it was better than letting my arm continue to bleed. I gingerly wrapped my eviscerated forearm in the cloth, wincing every time it touched the raw flesh. I didn¡¯t think I had ever been hurt this badly in my life. In either life.


    Red spots immediately began to soak through the thin cotton-ish material, along with renewed bouts of pain. I ignored them as best I could, finally setting out from my first battlefield. I couldn¡¯t stay near the corpses.


    I walked along the wall of earth, taking my time now that the sun was up. The danger of mana beasts was still absurdly high, but in the daytime, I would have more time to react to any perceived threat.


    But one thing was for sure: I wouldn¡¯t be able to survive for very long with my weaker body. I didn¡¯t know how much more forest I needed to cross, but I wasn¡¯t holding my breath. I didn¡¯t have the endurance or strength to face mana beasts for long, and I wasn¡¯t a prodigy in the sword like Arthur to fight unenhanced. I barely escaped my first fight alive.


    Once I put some distance between me and the site of my previous battle, I tiredly sat down in the dirt and leaned my back against the wall. It provided a modicum of cool shade, distracting me from the throbbing in my arms.


    ¡°Lady Dawn?¡± I asked aloud tiredly, closing my eyes. ¡°I need advice. Please.¡±


    My voice was scratchy and worn to my own ears. I was dehydrated and barely past a near-death experience, after all.


    When I pried my eyes open a few seconds later, my vision was once more clouded in darkness. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and morning birdsong once dulled as if I was underwater. Eddies of mist swirled about the ground, and my perception narrowed.


    Lady Dawn stood before me, looking down at me with the same stern face. Her orange dress, inferno eyes, and feather-red hair hadn¡¯t changed in the slightest. Despite her neutral expression, I could almost feel the disappointment radiating off her.


    ¡°What need have you of me, lesser?¡± she asked.


    I groaned at her calling me ¡®lesser¡¯ once more but shelved it away. ¡°I won¡¯t survive this forest without some sort of way to defend my body,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°And I might need your help with that.¡±


    Lady Dawn cocked her head. ¡°You wish for me to defend you?¡± she asked, something in her tone that made me shiver. ¡°Unfortunately, in this¡­ diminished form I have, I cannot. You are on your own.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, not that.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°Dicathian magic and Alacryan spellforms are not incompatible, as far as I know. The Alacryan runes just tend to be more efficient, so they neglected to train in mana arts the same way mages across the continent do.¡±


    Lady Dawn narrowed her blazing eyes. ¡°That is true.¡±


    I was quickly learning this phoenix was a bird of few words. ¡°So I could theoretically strengthen my body and create a protective layer of mana, just as augmenters do across the ocean?¡± I asked hopefully. If I had that kind of protection, I might just survive this forest.


    Lady Dawn hummed thoughtfully. ¡°You could. It would be unprecedented, however. I have heard nothing of a fusion of these two magics.¡± The phoenix was looking at me with renewed interest now that made my spine tingle.


    I took a deep breath, leaning my head back against the rock face. ¡°I¡¯m going to try it. Any help you could lend would be very appreciated,¡± I said.


    Lady Dawn said nothing, continuing to observe.


    I closed my eyes, looking internally at my mana core. It was a solid orange color, and unsurprisingly full. That was to be expected: telekinesis didn¡¯t use much mana. Floating within was a red feather. It was doing something to my core, and it felt positive. With a bit of heightened concentration, I could identify the connection between my core and the spellform on my back.


    I found my next target with surprising ease. My mana veins, the semi-spiritual conduits that allowed me to absorb mana from the outside world, were noticeably more developed than my mana channels. Mana channels, I knew, were what allowed mana to spread across the body and strengthen it. It seemed this body was fitter for conjuring, but even Dicathian conjurers could lightly strengthen their bodies.


    With an effort of will, I pulled mana from my core. I tried to filter it through my mana channels, which I knew would strengthen my muscles, but I faced some strange sort of resistance.


    I tugged again, confused. The resistance wasn¡¯t natural, I was sure. I felt like I should be able to do this, but something held me back. As I tried to force my mana to follow the natural pathways of my body, so too did the resistance build. But that made the source more noticeable.


    My crest? I realized with a bit of incredulity. It seemed like my crest was actively preventing me from spreading my own mana across my body, causing it to somehow fight against the action. I grit my teeth and pushed harder, straining against the force. If I just broke through¡­


    Mana flooded from my core in increasing waves, trying and failing to break the barrier to strengthening my body. I felt myself sweat, my breathing picking up. I started to flag, losing force as my willpower began to wane.


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    No! I thought with a bit of desperation. I felt close, but the mana of the crest fought me at every turn, matching me push for push. I was losing.


    Then something changed. A foreign influence began to push on my mana, reinforcing my own actions. It felt warm and smoldering; a heavy and subdued presence. The feather in my core glowed with a pinkish light, resonating with the alien intent. The outwards pressing force doubled, tripled, and quadrupled. The crest ramped up its resistance as well, but not fast enough.


    Something cracked, and my mana finally rushed into my channels in a flood. Warmth suffused my whole body as my muscles unconsciously clenched. Sounds became a bit clearer, and the scent of blood, sweat, and dirt became an overwhelmingly pungent smell to my nose.


    I opened my eyes, the mana flooding them allowing me to see the most minute of details. It was almost intoxicating.


    I pushed a bit more mana from my core, which now flowed with ease across my body. A slight glowing light emanated from my skin, evidence of a mana shroud covering my body. I grinned at Lady Dawn, who raised a brow in return.


    I cut off the flow, the extra strength and perception draining away as I reabsorbed as much as I could back into my core. With a push, I tested my crest once more. I could push and pull just as normal, with nothing out of the ordinary. I exhaled in relief.


    I was worried that I had somehow broken my spellform when I felt that crack across my mana, but nothing seemed out of order.


    ¡°Fascinating,¡± I heard Lady Dawn say. She was peering at my sternum, seeming to see right through to my core. ¡°I see now why Dicathian¨Cno, asuran¨Cmethod of magic is nonexistent on this continent,¡± she said with a hum.


    I slowly got to my feet, stretching gingerly to avoid jostling my still-recovering shoulder and bloody forearm. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked a bit absently as I slowly tested the strengthening effects across my body. I felt stronger than I had ever been, and I was willing to bet I could outmuscle people far outside my weight class. The drain was more significant than my telekinesis spellform, but I could keep this up for a long while.


    ¡°The spellform you have tried to deny specific usages of mana manipulation beyond the rune¡¯s intended purpose,¡± she said primly. She walked forward slightly, still peering at my sternum. ¡°But that restriction has been broken. Forcefully.¡±


    I let the strength fade from my body again. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, nodding to the phoenix. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been able to break that hold without your help.¡±


    Lady Dawn seemed unfazed. ¡°Helping you is tantamount to helping myself, lesser,¡± she said, her fiery eyes boring into my own. ¡°If you perish, so do I.¡±


    I gulped at that. ¡°Still, thank you.¡± I paused as a thought occurred to me. ¡°The mana pushback is likely higher the more runes a person has as well,¡± I said. ¡°And the more powerful those runes are. The more powerful you get, the less chance there is to break free of the rune¡¯s restraints.¡±


    Lady Dawn turned to look at the sky. ¡°So it would seem. Agrona¡¯s control is unprecedented.¡±


    She looked almost sullen in the pinkish light that shone around her like a brilliant outline. The most emotion I had seen from the phoenix had been whenever Agrona came up in conversation. As I thought about it, I became more and more certain that this world had some differences from the one I had read about. From what I knew, Lady Dawn had been slain by the Legacy, her mana absorbed until there was nothing more to siphon. Left as an empty husk.


    But she was here with me¡ªor at least some part of her. But the animosity towards the High Sovereign of the Vritra remained.


    ¡°He isn¡¯t all-powerful,¡± I said. ¡°His control isn¡¯t perfect; not from what I know. There are cracks.¡±


    Lady Dawn frowned at me, the most expression I had seen in our two meetings. ¡°And, pray tell, how do you know this? A lesser from another world, detached from the workings of this one? What right have you to preach to me when you have not suffered as we have?¡± Lady Dawn asked, a note of tension in her tone. For all that the words sounded accusatory, the phoenix presented them as valid questions.


    I opened my mouth, then closed it with a click. I didn¡¯t know if my knowledge was perfect, and already one divergence lay before me. And the phoenix was right: I hadn¡¯t suffered as she did. As the people of this world had. My wounds were proof of that; of my comparatively easy-going life. Last night¡¯s battle had been my only life-or-death struggle.


    I looked at the dirt, feeling chastised. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said mutely. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to offend you.¡±


    Lady Dawn scoffed. Then the encroaching darkness vanished as it had come, whisking the phoenix away with it.


    I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face. Dried blood and sweat caked my body, and I knew from my previously enhanced sense of smell that I reeked. One of the first things I would do when I got back to civilization was take a shower.


    Alacrya had showers, I knew. For that I was thankful.


    I turned around, looking at the sheer rock face. It stretched up a good forty feet, denying my forward journey. But even with the strength mana could grant my body, I didn¡¯t know how long I could last without food or water. Escaping this forest was still my top priority.


    With mana coursing through my limbs, I began to climb.


    ¡ª


    A couple of hours passed in silence. My trek northward continued at a slightly sedated pace. I wasn¡¯t sure what could be waiting for me, and I was going to be ready for whatever crossed my path.


    A familiar noise made me pause, however. I halted at the bottom of a slight hill, giving my tired legs a light rest as I tried to focus on whatever I was hearing. I funneled mana to my ears, wincing internally at the inefficiency of the flow. It took far more mana to strengthen my hearing than it should have due to a loss of mana along the way from my sternum to my ears. Part of that was because I was an inexperienced mana user, and another part was because of my underdeveloped mana channels. I could eventually remedy the first, at least.


    I felt a grin split my face as my suspicions were confirmed. I heard running water a bit to my left, a sweet song that would soon quench my thirst. I turned on my heel, walking towards the sound at a brisk pace. Before long, I finally reached my destination. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The creek I found flowed northwest to southeast, likely towards a larger body of water. It was a slow, meandering thing, but it gurgled to me invitingly. I stood in the treeline still, cautious to approach. This was likely a common source of water for the mana beasts around.


    I searched the tree line and the banks of the creek, keeping an enhanced eye peeled for any mana beasts that might try and ambush me. The coast was clear.


    I approached the creek, cupped my hand within the flow to withdraw a bit of water, and drank greedily. The water was cool and crisp as it trailed down my throat. Some of it splashed onto my shirt in my haste, but I didn¡¯t care. It was the most heavenly drink I had ever had.


    I had to slow down once I began to cough from drinking too fast. But damn, did it feel refreshing. Once I had my fill, I did another perimeter check with enhanced eyesight. Feeling secure once more, I splashed water on my face, the cool liquid scrubbing away just a bit of the dirt and grime on my face. My hair was next, and the sheer amount of red that tainted the water as I washed my scalp spoke to how much blood had caked it. I washed my arms, too, and took special care to avoid my wound.


    I had been hasty when I wrapped it before. I just needed to stop the bleeding, but I knew that infection was a terrible possibility. Theoretically, the mana in my body strengthened my immune system as well, but bacteria hopped up on mana could exist here as well. It was better to be safe than sorry, so I didn¡¯t dunk my arm into the water.


    A rustle of nearby branches had me immediately perk up from my crouch by the water. Across the creek, a few familiar-looking beady eyes watched me.


    A jolt of fear coursed through my body as the monster stalked forward, followed by two others. They were about twenty feet away, and I knew from experience what those glistening talons and serrated teeth could do. I felt my heart rate skyrocket, and I knew that if I hadn¡¯t just washed my face I would be able to feel beads of sweat.


    But there was another emotion in my gut this time, too. Anger. I was utterly terrified of the mana beasts as they slowly stalked toward me, but a fury grew to match it, burning like Lady Dawn¡¯s eyes. These creatures had nearly killed me once before. They had killed me before, technically. And I hated the fear they instilled in me.


    I slowly stood to my feet, withdrawing a few rocks from my pouch once more. It was time for a rematch.

 Chapter 4: Pest Control

    Toren Daen


    I wound up my left arm as the mana beasts approached, a rock a bit bigger than a ping-pong ball clenched in my hand. I threw the rock at the rightmost creature, adding a burst of telekinesis as it left my hand. The projectile whizzed audibly as it approached its target. The monsters tried to move out of the way the moment I began to throw, but my projectile was too fast. It impacted against my target¡¯s back leg, the sound of bone cracking audible even from where I was.


    The remaining monsters wasted no time rushing me as their friend¡¯s leg crumpled, slightly impeded by the creek as they splashed through. Mana rushed from my core to strengthen my body, but it was slow. I was forced to backpedal for a few seconds before the warmth finally spread to the rest of my body. Just in time, too: both of the monsters jumped at me from the front, trailing water behind them.


    I swiped the air with my good arm, the crest on my back powering the action. My telekinesis pushed against the creature on my left midair with a burst of white mana, slamming it into its companion. They crashed together in a tangle of limbs and screeching snarls.


    The rat-lizards tumbled into the creek haphazardly. They weren¡¯t hurt, really, just incredibly pissed off. They scrambled in the creek, kicking up water as they flailed to disengage. But they were wide open. Quickly retrieving a handful of rocks from my pouch, I threw them at the downed creatures with another burst of telekinesis. The spray pelted the two with a barrage of dull thumps, punching a dozen holes into the creatures. The creek began to run red as the two died, spasming and twitching with weak screeches.


    Served them right. My anger was rising, vindictive pleasure bubbling in me as my enemies died. My pulse pounded in my ears; my breathing faster than normal as victory approached.


    I turned back to the final monster, which was trying to piteously pull itself back into the forest on three legs, dragging a mangled hind leg behind it.


    I watched the rat-lizard try and struggle away, emitting loud screech-snarls as it went. It was somewhere between a pig squealing and the snarl of a dog. But even I could recognize the terror the beast felt as I slowly followed after it.


    My anger drained as I watched, replaced with pity and self-disgust. I shouldn¡¯t take joy in ending these mana beast¡¯s lives. This thing felt terror just as much as any animal I knew from Earth. And it knew it was going to die.


    I silenced the thing with a well-placed stone to the head, giving it a quick death. Even if I let the rat-lizard go, it would be easy pickings for whatever other predator roamed these woods. They relied on their leaps and bounds to clear distance, but I had shattered its back leg. Its death was inevitable, whether that be to bleeding out or some other predator.


    But my victory tasted like ashes in my mouth. I had never killed anything before coming to this world, and to go so quickly from terrified to vindictive unnerved me. I knew I needed to kill to survive in Alacrya, and I knew I would likely continue to kill. It was the nature of mages in this world: they were weapons first and foremost.


    And now that I knew the patterns of these creatures? They were easy pickings for me, as long as I kept them at a distance and had a supply of pebbles.


    I tracked north once more, noting the position of the creek in case I needed to track back for water. My steps were less cautious, now. I felt a great deal more confident in my steps now that I had overcome the greatest threat I had yet witnessed.


    Feeling a bit bolder, I strengthened my limbs with mana once again. From experience, I knew that mana granted not just enhanced strength but also greater reflexes. I hoped I could put these to use now.


    I peered up at the trees towering above me, casting shadows onto the forest floor as they blocked the sunlight with autumn leaves. I didn¡¯t recognize what kind of tree these were, but they were far taller than the average tree on Earth. The closest branch was some ten feet above me, well out of my reach.


    At least without mana. I jumped straight up, reaching with my left hand to latch onto the wood. I cleared the five-foot vertical jump easily, actually ending up overshooting. I went too high, barely managing to latch onto the branch as I fell. My hand scrabbled for purchase on the branch, and once I finally grabbed hold my enhanced strength allowed me to pull myself up with ease.


    I laughed lightly, my plan seeming more feasible from up high. Looking out, I spied another branch a good five yards away. Feeling bold, I shifted my balance on my perch, prepping to leap. Then I jumped. I sailed through the air, a laugh bubbling from my lips at the incredulity of my situation. Me, a mage! Trying to parkour through a forest like a godforsaken ninja!


    But I knew almost immediately that I would fall short of my target. And even with an enhanced body, I didn¡¯t want to fall ten feet to the forest floor. It would still hurt. Instead, I reached my arm out to the branch, pulling for all I was worth. A flare of white telekinesis flickered around the branch, brightening as I got closer.


    The pull was a bit weak with how far away the target was from my body, but as I got closer the pull strengthened. A glimmer of hope rose in that split-second, only to be brutally snuffed out when I accelerated into the branch.


    I impacted my chest hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs. What was even more unfortunate was the fact that the strike rattled across my sternum as well, disrupting my mana core.


    I remembered reading at some point that getting struck in the mana core was a lot like getting kicked between the legs. Now from experience, I could say they felt awfully similar. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I slid off the branch with a pained groan, falling to the floor as the mana pulling me into the branch winked out. My mana shroud broke as I hit the ground, shattering to as many pieces as my pride.


    Leaves fell slowly from the tree onto me as I curled inwards, recovering from what did feel uncomfortably close to getting a boot in the family jewels. After a few minutes of self-pity, I stumbled to my feet as my mana core finally snapped back to functioning.


    I dusted my shirt free of bark and dirt, then peered back at the branches of the trees. An idea began to form in my head of how this could work, and it would save me a lot of time in the long run.


    ¡ª


    It took a decent bit of trial and error to finally get where I was now, leaping from branch to branch through the forest. I balanced on the bough of a particularly tall tree, my legs already bent and ready to leap off to the next one. I jumped, my mana-enhanced leap sending me ten feet across. But that wasn¡¯t enough to reach my next handhold.


    Reaching out with telekinesis, I pulled on the branch in front of me. Instead of the branch snapping in half and flying at me like an arrow, I was pulled towards the bough instead. I deftly grabbed hold of the limb with my good arm, anchoring myself and then pulling myself up.


    I quickly scanned the treeline, finding my next couple of targets. I cleared the gap to the next branch, which was a bit shorter than the last jump. I didn¡¯t need a telekinetic pull for this one. With barely a moment to balance myself, I took another leap toward the next branch. With a telekinetic pull, I was able to hoist myself up onto that branch, too.


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    I fell plenty of times as I slowly mastered this pseudo-parkour. One of the first things I learned in this endeavor was that every action had an equal and opposite reaction. When I used telekinesis to pull on a branch, I had better hope my weight wasn¡¯t enough to snap the wood. If the branch was too weak, it would break off the tree and come hurtling toward me like a spear.


    That caused one of my falls. Now I was extra careful to make sure a branch could support my weight.


    Another hard lesson was learned when I misjudged a jump again. I had a backup plan in case that happened: pull on the branch and push on the ground, hopefully allowing me to reach the limb. Instead, the strain of trying to use two effects at once had caused me to fail at the pull, and I crashed to the forest floor once again.


    I wasn¡¯t able to do two actions with telekinesis at once yet, but I could probably do so with some practice.


    My progress across the forest was faster than when I was on foot, even hampered by the fact that I only had one good arm to climb with. My right arm had been dislocated a day ago, and any strain on the limb hurt it pretty bad.


    By now, the sun had passed into late afternoon. Several hours of this parkour had allowed me to slightly adjust to heightened strength and reflexes, but it would be a long time yet before it felt truly natural.


    My musings caused me to misjudge a jump, and my pull didn¡¯t exert enough force to drag me to the branch. Instead of panicking, I stopped pulling on the branch and switched to pushing as fast as possible. Aiming at the ground allowed me to slow my fall ever so slightly, and I landed with a crouch.


    I refocused myself, wiping sweat from my brow. I prepared to hop back into the trees, but something tingled on the edge of my perception. I paused, a frown on my face. It was like something was watching me. I felt the hair stand up back of my neck as I slowly turned about, surveying my surroundings.


    I pressed mana into my eyes and ears, trying to find discrepancies in the forest around me. I had killed a few more of the rat-lizards as I made my way north, and was feeling quite confident in my abilities by now.


    I heard a slight whoosh in the air, like something was moving. No sooner did that happen than I leapt to the side out of pure instinct. I flew a few yards and failed the landing, not entirely used to the strength mana granted. I rolled in the dirt a few paces before jumping up hurriedly, looking at where I used to be.


    A mana beast stood there, covered in barklike skin that shifted and moved as the creature turned. It stood on four powerful legs, its shoulder reaching my stomach in height. It was much more reptilian than the creatures I had fought before, looking almost like a Komodo dragon. But the legs were longer and lither than those of monitor lizards, and the tail was as long as the body itself. Orange scales lined the creature¡¯s spine, and I realized with a start that this thing must have been extremely camouflaged against the autumn trees.


    Its reptilian gaze locked onto me, a thin slit of a pupil amidst a sea of orange. The thing was out for blood. I felt a hum in the air as the creature¡¯s spines glowed slightly.


    Then it opened its mouth, revealing several rows of razor-sharp teeth and a swirling green sphere of wind.


    My eyes widened as I leapt out of the way, barely avoiding the oncoming projectile. It barrelled past me with an audible whoosh, ruffling my hair before carving a chunk out of a nearby tree and dispersing. The monster wasted no time capitalizing on my distraction, rushing me with deceptive speed. I backpedaled on instinct, narrowly avoiding a snap of the creature¡¯s mouth by the skin of my teeth. I reached upwards, using a pull of telekinesis to yank me towards a branch several yards away. I jumped simultaneously, rocketing off in the opposite direction of the beast.


    Midway through my leap, I stopped pulling on the branch and reached into the pouch on my belt. Withdrawing another handful of rocks, I threw them with both mana-enhanced strength and a pulse of pushing telekinesis. The stones zipped nearly faster than my eye could see, a deadly hail of earth directed right at the mutant lizard. A hideous snarl was wrenched from the monster¡¯s mouth as my attack struck home.


    I landed awkwardly on my rear, skidding back slightly from my momentum. I held my breath, hoping against hope that the beast was dead. Unfortunately, my sight of the lizard was obscured by a small cloud of dust and dirt kicked up by my assault.


    I didn¡¯t even see what impacted me next. One moment I was standing still, peering at the dust could, and another I was sent hurtling backward with extreme force. My mana shroud had shattered around my chest, but that didn¡¯t stop whatever hit me entirely. I struck a tree hard and fell down to the forest floor, but my strengthened body thankfully spared me a broken spine.


    My ribs weren¡¯t so lucky. I shifted slightly on the ground, but each movement caused my bones to creak in a way that told me that if they weren¡¯t broken, they were certainly close. I coughed painfully, each wheeze jostling my ribs and shoulder. I blinked through the pain, dimly registering that the lizard¡¯s tail was detached and writhing a few feet from me. The monster itself was bleeding from a dozen coin-sized holes across its body, with one having barely missed its throat. Instead, the monster¡¯s lower jaw was a bloody mess.


    Damn.


    The creature roared piteously, its murky barklike skin painted a deep crimson in several splotches. A few of the orange spines had snapped, leaving the creature a broken remnant of what it used to be.


    But it was still alive, and very, very angry.


    The spines began to glow once more, this time with a light that far outstripped the previous time. The beast opened its malformed jaw, and I watched in horror as another missile of wind began to condense.


    Scrambling with my left arm, I didn¡¯t so much pull as I yanked a nearby rock. It slammed into my hand with a painful thunk, but I had no time to think about that. The beast¡¯s attack was almost charged.


    I switched my runic function quickly to push and focused on the rock in my hand. A weak flare of white shot the rock from my hand with far less force than if I had thrown it, but it completed its objective.


    My rock collided with the building spell in the mana beast¡¯s jaws. I locked eyes with the creature as my stone disrupted the spell, causing the sphere to ripple and distort. A veneer of panic began to show, but not before the spell exploded, taking the monster¡¯s head with it.


    The mana beast collapsed to the forest floor dead.


    This was the second time I had caused a monster¡¯s head to explode in two days. At least this time I was far away enough from the blast zone to avoid getting coated in red.


    ¡°Serves you right, jackass,¡± I said with a wheeze, savoring the victory. If I was feeling a bit better, I might¡¯ve called it something a bit more creative. But I almost had my chest caved in, so I was cutting myself a little slack.


    I struggled to my feet, gingerly feeling said ribs. Thankfully, they weren¡¯t broken but were certainly bruised or cracked. I would have to be even lighter on any exercise from now on.


    Speaking of how my ribs nearly shattered, I inspected the still-writhing tail of the monster lizard. Now that I was thinking more evenly, what had happened seemed clear to me by the cut of the tail. It was absurdly long, tapering off into a whiplike shape. Which was exactly what had impacted my chest: the lizard had snapped its tail at me like a whip but lost the appendage in the process. Probably some sort of defense mechanism, like the lizards of my world.


    I stumbled over to the dead beast¡¯s body, noting a gleam from one of the monster¡¯s wounds. With a bit closer inspection of the gruesome sight, I realized exactly what I was looking at: it was a beast core.


    It was colored the same shade of brown as the creature¡¯s skin, with splotches of familiar autumn-orange streaking the surface. I grimaced: if I wanted it out, I would have to retrieve it.


    I reached my good hand into the wound, gagging at the squelching noise and squishy feeling of pulped flesh. I got a good grasp on the core, though, and ripped it out with a slight tug. I wiped the blood away on my dirty trousers, inspecting them once more. Then I stashed it into my pouch.


    I¡¯m not going to be doing any more parkour today, I thought grimly, wincing with every inhale.


    I walked north once more, my left arm clutching my ribs and my right held limply at my side. But my luck had finally won out. The treeline broke after a couple of minutes of walking, revealing rolling hills of green. There was not a cloud in the sky, allowing me to bask in the welcoming warmth of the sun.


    But what really welcomed me was the sprawling city barely a couple of miles away, surrounded by thick walls and sturdy battlements. Some part of my soul echoed an emotion of yearning for this city. A strange sense of familiarity settled across my weary bones.


    That city was my home, in some sense of the word.

 Chapter 5: Fiachra

    Toren Daen


    My approach toward the city felt agonizingly slow. Though only a couple of miles from the forest at my estimate, it took a few hours of painful walking to truly be near the tall walls that bordered the city.


    My speed was hampered by my bruised ribs, every inhale sending a sharp pain through my chest. I took frequent breaks, too. A growing hunger gnawed at my gut, highlighting the fact that I hadn¡¯t eaten in at least a couple of days. My mouth was parched, having only had something to drink several hours before walking and fighting continuously. My arm, mercifully, was gaining some of its mobility back at a surprising pace. Fast enough that I knew it wasn¡¯t natural.


    The city became more distinct as I neared it. A river cut through the city, tracking down and running south along the edges of the accursed forest I had just left. Tall walls of dark stone surrounded the city, looming twenty feet in the air. They blocked much of my view of the inner city from my distance, but there were plenty of structures that stood even taller than the walls. Opulent buildings gilded in red and gray hues stood out to me from afar, judging the city from on high.


    The river ran right beside the cobbled road I trudged on, all the way up to the gate. An iron trellis allowed the water to pass under the stone walls. The gate became clearer as I approached: they were tall, impressive doors of black metal, inscribed with illustrations of basilisks, black fire, and other unique works of art, but my mind was too bleary to study them long. A couple of guards stood watch outside the doors, keen eyes on the lookout for visitors. They each held a long spear, with full metal armor adorning their bodies.


    There wasn¡¯t much traffic at this gate, only a few people a ways ahead being let in. When the last was allowed inside, their gazes turned to me. Their helmets concealed their faces, however, making me more nervous to approach.


    I painfully plodded to the gate, doing my best to straighten my back in the face of the guard¡¯s stares. After a second, I gave up on that. Too painful.


    ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns,¡± one of them said. ¡°You look like death itself, kid! I almost didn¡¯t expect to see you back!¡± they continued. The other snorted in agreement.


    I realized with a start that I did look like hell. Probably smelt like it, too. I was covered from near head to toe in blood, dirt, and sweat, the cleanest spot being my face from when I washed it with cold creek water. Unfortunately, I had since gathered more dirt there as well as I struggled to learn tree parkour and almost died to that whip-lizard-thing. My clothes were also torn in a dozen different places, and I was pretty certain the thin cord that wound through my trousers to keep them tied to my waist was about to simply snap from wear.


    The guards had also apparently seen me leave the city as well, or at least the previous owner of the body. That was something to note. I was also surprised by how little outward reaction the guards showed to my battered state. Did people often come here half-dead?


    ¡°I feel like death, too,¡± I ground out tiredly. ¡°How much to get back into the city?¡±


    I had seen the people entering before me exchange a few coins at a distance. I assumed I would have to do the same.


    ¡°Three copper marks to enter Fiachra for a single person, as usual for the later hours of the day,¡± the guard closest to me said, before leaning forward slightly. ¡°But tell me something, kid: did you make a kill? End a few skaunters? Maybe a barkskin grohd?¡± he whispered conspiratorially.


    So the city was called Fiachra, then. It felt true to the lingering emotions in my mind. I squinted in confusion at the question, though, trying to connect the dots in my head. ¡°Killed a good dozen of those rat-lizard bastards,¡± I offered, wincing at the phantom pain from their jaws on my forearm and the stab in my ribs from speaking.


    The guard barked a short laugh, turning to his companion. ¡±Didn¡¯t I tell you, Joran? The kid here left looking like he was prepared to die, all grim-faced and whatnot!¡± He turned back to me, and I could hear the grin in his voice. ¡°Instead, he prevails against the devious skaunters!¡± he finished with good cheer.


    His companion scoffed but didn¡¯t offer a comment.


    The guard began to open the door. ¡°Entry¡¯s free for today, kid. Can¡¯t take away the joy of the first hunt. You do our Sovereigns proud! Every drop of strength you get brings glory to them all!¡±


    With a quiet thanks, I trudged into the city. I followed a phantom memory in a bleary daze, tracing emotions of home and comfort as I weaved through streets simultaneously familiar and foreign. The powerful river continued along the main road, weaving through Fiachra. Artificial canals and waterways split off from the mighty flow like stretching roots, and I guessed they weaved through the entire city. I saw men on small boats ushering people and goods all along the channels, using a strange artifact to propel their slim craft along the currents. Foot traffic was constant everywhere, with most people dressed in semi-casual attire. I saw many wearing shirts with cuts along the spine, proudly displaying their runes for all to see.


    Carriages occupied portions of the streets, however, pulled by all varieties of mana beasts I could imagine. Those belonged to the wealthy Bloods of the city, no doubt. People who noticed me shied away, looks of disgust on their faces, but none tried to stop me. That was welcome. If I stopped, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be able to start walking again.


    My semi-conscious mind took me eastward across the city. A noticeable decline in wealth occurred as I moved from street to street, like watching a colorful painting slowly shift to more drab colors. The vibrancy and life seemed to drain out of the buildings, an aura of casual depression oozing from every alleyway.


    There were fewer people about too I noticed as I crossed a bridge over one of the diverging channels of water. The water, while unnaturally clear everywhere else, had begun to take on a darker tinge. People watched with hooded eyes from corners every now and then, adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere.


    I was thankful to finally reach what felt like my destination. The entire haze had been a lot like a game of hot or cold: I thought of shelter, safety, and home. That pulled abstract emotions from the depths of my mind, which grew in intensity depending on my direction. Now, they were strongest as I stood before a building.


    It was three stories tall, with dark paint that was chipped and fading where it revealed stone. The door was solid wood, opening with a slight creak as I entered. A row of numbered doors along a narrow hallway greeted me, before a flight of stairs led to the second level. An old lighting artifact cast a warm yellow glow across the hall. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From what I could tell, it seemed to be the Alacryan equivalent of an apartment complex. I sighed in exasperation, before immediately cutting off in a pained wheeze.


    My room was unfortunately on the top floor. The emotions rattling inside my brain became warmer and warmer as I trudged on, before finally leading me to room 35. I fumbled in my pouch, awkwardly withdrawing the metal key. I fumbled at the lock before the door opened, thankfully allowing me in.


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    The apartment was barely lit by the late afternoon sun, with a window at the far end looking out at another nearby building. It was sparsely decorated: a bunk bed and a couple of desks across from it took up most of the space. A single dresser sat in the corner.


    Another door revealed a cramped bathroom, so small I could barely stand. A recognizable toilet and bathtub assured me that the building had working plumbing at the very least, but a disconcerting bit of black mold was building in the base of the tub.


    I couldn¡¯t have cared less at the moment. I gingerly pried off my clothes, grimacing as they tried to stick to my body. With every movement, my ribs protested, causing me to take nearly five minutes to fully undress. I even took time to slowly unwrap my wounded forearm. The gash had healed noticeably, flesh partway through knitting back together in a macabre fashion. But I had larger thoughts on my mind.


    Once I was finally free of my stinking, blood-splattered clothes, I entered the shower. I gasped as chilling water struck me from the faucet head, the frigid temperature entirely uncaring of how I had twisted the warm water knob all the way. I shuddered, the cold water startling me and keeping me far more lucid than I had wanted, but it didn¡¯t matter. A bar of lye soap slowly scrubbed the grime from a body that was far too young to be my own. Cracked and bloodied fingernails slowly worked over the rest of my form, cleansing me of the horrors of the forest. Skinny, unfamiliar arms worked in time with my thoughts.


    I had never allowed myself to think too much in that accursed forest. The threat of danger and promise of death treaded too closely for me to contemplate my new situation. Adrenaline and mana were my only comforts in the wild, and both had barely gotten me through. Any step could mean walking into an ambush from predators. But as I wallowed in the frigid shower water, I couldn¡¯t ignore my situation any longer.


    I was in another world, far from anything I had ever known. The memory of my car crash yawned before me, engulfing me in the certainty of what had happened. I didn¡¯t even remember anything after my death: just nothingness. It was akin to going to sleep and waking up the next morning: my memory simply restarted in Alacrya.


    I would never fulfill my Earthen dreams. I would never finish college; never complete my degree. I would never again experience the fulfillment computers and programming brought me. My interests were foreign and strange in this new world, concepts so alien none could sympathize.


    And I was alone. So, so very alone. My friends and family were a world away, far from my reach. I hadn¡¯t even gotten to say goodbye, to wish them farewell. To tell them how much they mattered to me; how they pushed me to be better.


    And I never would. I once read a story about a man who tried to bring a banana tree from Cuba to his home on the upper east coast of the United States. Instead of thriving, the tree wilted in the colder weather. The winter months battered and destroyed it, breaking it over their knees of frost.


    I felt much like that banana plant, cast out into an environment counter to what I could survive in. I was a modern man, used to the amenities and luxuries of 21st-century living. I had struggled much throughout my life, but not the hard, physical struggle of Alacryan society where the weak died. I wasn¡¯t ready to fight my way through droves of beasts or claw my way up the ranks of Highblood society. No, I was a weak man. I nearly died fighting a pathetic mana beast, after all. And all of Alacrya would soon be plunged into a proxy war between living deities.


    The cold water of the shower trickled down my arms, coating my wound and washing away pink. I didn¡¯t have the energy to even wince at the pain. I wept for a long while in the shower after I was finally clean, the streams of water whisking away my silent tears.


    ¡ª


    I awoke late in the morning of the next day, the light of the sun wafting through the window to my apartment. I blinked bleary eyes, my head slowly clearing.


    I felt noticeably better than the utter despair I experienced last night. Something about the sunlight made it easier for me to ward away my demons; banish them to the depths of my mind. When the sun shone down on my face, it was easier to weather the daunting weight of the future. The dawn brought hope back to my bones.


    I sat up carefully in the bottom bunk of the bunk beds, but the pain from my bruised ribs was noticeably less than I expected. The ribs still ached but with far less severity than last night. On a hunch, I checked my forearm. It was wrapped properly this time: after my shower, I found a roll of cloth that covered my wound far more snugly and cleanly than my previous jury-rigged solution.


    I slowly unwound the cloth, and sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed. Underneath the bandages, the gash in my arm was far, far smaller than it had been just over a day and a half ago. Where before the slash had nearly reached the bone, now I could see muscle and tissue having slowly grown back. And another thing I had nearly forgotten: the thin slash on my bicep I received dodging one of the rat-lizards¨Cskaunters, I reminded myself¨Cwas practically gone.


    It seemed I had a healing factor, and a rather significant one at that. From what I could infer from reading The Beginning After The End, all mages had accelerated healing: but nothing so quick without an emitter mage. I would guesstimate that a gash like the one I had received would normally take a couple of months to fully heal, leaving horrid scarring. At the current rate, I would be rid of the wound in a day or so.


    That answered a lot of questions, too. My right arm was essentially back to full mobility, too. I couldn¡¯t feel any lingering soreness from the dislocation, but I wouldn¡¯t put any load on it just yet. It was better to be safe than sorry.


    Before I got up, I checked inwards to observe my mana core. It was still solid orange; the red feather within floating casually. But now that my nerves had calmed, I inspected the feather more intently.


    It was radiating mana intensely. It was pulsing out far more than I could even perceive, slowly scouring away impurities and strengthening my core. The observation astounded me, almost snapping me out of my reverie of observation. The feather was automatically advancing my core stage bit by bit and refilling my drained reserves as well.


    Come to think of it, I hadn¡¯t needed to meditate to draw in more mana after my extensive use of it across the forest, and the core had felt full when I went to bed. But it seemed that my overnight healing had drained my reserves a by about a quarter of my maximum.


    I slowly pulled myself out of bed, immediately aware of the rumbling in my stomach. I had gone a long time without food, and I suspected that my healing factor needed to draw energy from not just mana to restructure my muscles. I needed sustenance, but I doubted I had any in the small apartment I called home.


    But before I headed out, I would need to clean up a bit. Floss, brush my teeth, and the like. With all of Alacrya¡¯s advancements, I would be astonished if proper dental hygiene were not one of them.


    I moved toward the bathroom, wrinkling my nose at the smell of my old clothes in a nearby waste bin. I had found a new set in the dresser that fit me well: a set of loose brown trousers and a dark, long-sleeved shirt. It wasn¡¯t the most fashionable of wear, but I had no room to complain.


    I meandered into the bathroom, already thinking about how I would have to clean it. I was tidy to a fault: the definition of a neat freak. That was something my family and friends ribbed me for constantly.


    I shoved the thoughts of my previous life away with an effort of will.


    Regardless of my current situation, nobody could stand the black mold that was festering in the bathtub. Not willingly.


    I halted in my steps as I raised my head, looking in the mirror. My mind stuttered to a halt as the reflection echoed my actions. Hazel eyes stared back, going almost comically wide. Reflected in the mirror was a teen with short, messy hair colored a bright, reddish blonde. Sharper features looked, but the softness of youth hadn¡¯t quite left them.


    I recognized the face. How could I not? It was like I was peering into a portal to the not-so-distant past, watching my teenage self mimic my actions. But that couldn¡¯t be true, could it? I died on Earth, my soul gone. Some subconscious part of me expected this body to look entirely alien: maybe I would have black hair. Or perhaps my face would be wider. I could have had green eyes, even. Green eyes were rare, but not as rare as reincarnation. But none of that came to be.


    But why? Why did I look the same as in my previous life?

 Chapter 6: Healers Guild

    Toren Daen


    I numbly walked the streets of Fiachra, slowly weaving towards the more mercantile parts of the city I had passed the previous day. The implications of my current appearance were being very deliberately ignored.


    I really didn¡¯t want to consider parallel realities, multiverse theory, doppelgangers, and cosmic flukes. I was a stranger to all of those things, and contemplating my current situation would only drive me down a path of mad futility.


    That didn¡¯t mean I wasn¡¯t unnerved every time I spotted my reflection.


    At least I had been able to brush my teeth. Alacrya didn¡¯t quite have 21st-century amenities, but they were pretty damn close.


    People were up and about now, trailing the streets in steady droves. Mages were remarkably common, easily identified by their open-spine clothing to flaunt their runes and various mana-enhanced artifacts on their bodies. But what really drew my attention was the city of Fiachra itself.


    The closest thing I could equate it to would be Venice, with its canals and pole boats carrying people about an entire city of interconnected islands over a lagoon. But Fiachra seemed even more complex. The city was naturally hilly, and the channels were designed to compensate. I saw several tunnels cut into steep slopes, the artificial waterways snaking through and allowing passage. The streets and canals of Fiachra were also far more ordered than in Venice. Instead of building to suit the natural landscape and islands of the Venetian Lagoon, the mages of Fiachra bent the elements to their will, carving and scraping routes into the earth.


    The architecture of the buildings was a strange collage of medieval, Victorian, and modern styles, merging together to create something truly unique. There were no market stalls lining the streets: instead, storefronts and cafes were more common. And finally, I had found somewhere that would feed me.


    The sign above read ¡®Halidar¡¯s Bakery,¡¯ which was a rather bland name for a shop in my opinion. I had passed back into the more well-to-do parts of the city, so the bakery was clean and tidy. The similarities to stores from my previous life were uncanny.


    I managed to buy a loaf of bread from the shopkeeper, unsurprisingly named Halidar, for two of the copper marks I had in my pouch, leaving only another two remaining. I assumed the marks were named after the runic spellform rather than the old German currency. Stepping back outside into the sun, I spied a nearby bench, perfect for a relaxed meal.


    I hungrily devoured nearly half the loaf of bread before something occurred to me. Now that my hunger had slightly abated and left me more clearheaded, I looked back at the sign for the bakery.


    ¡®Halidar¡¯s Bakery.¡¯ The letters weren¡¯t exactly the English alphabet. They were slightly altered in places: an extra long stroke of the brush here, or maybe a wider loop there. In some places, there were gaps where a long, continuous line would be. It wasn¡¯t Ye Olde English: that was backward, in a way. Instead, this language felt more like a step to the side of common English script.


    Another weird similarity to my previous world. It felt wrong to me that cultures a world apart could resemble each other in such common ways.


    I banished the thoughts from my mind, finishing the rest of my bread. Very shortly after seeing my own reflection, I resolved to ignore multiversal mumbo-jumbo. So what if I looked like my past self? So what if everyone in an entirely different world somehow spoke a dialect of familiar English? So what if humans somehow evolved the exact same way on two different planets?


    That was absolutely not my problem.


    Coming back to the current situation, I considered my options forward. I would need to find a way to make more money. My first thought would be to sell the beast core I had obtained from the whip-lizard-thing. What was it the guard at the gate had said? A barkskin grohd? That was probably what I fought, just from inference. But there was something I believed took precedence.


    I stood slowly, reaching into my pouch and retrieving a piece of crumpled paper. Stretching it out, it revealed the message that had driven the previous owner of this body into the depths of that forest in the first place.


    It was a letter informing me¨CToren Daen¨Cabout the passing of my relative. Norgan, his name was. The letter was sent by the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild, and was marked by a stamp depicting two winged serpents¨Cbasilisks, if I was right¨Ctwined around a staff. It wasn¡¯t quite a caduceus, but the resemblance was once again uncanny.


    I shoved that resemblance into the little box reserved for parallel-world bullshit.


    I was going to the Healer¡¯s Guild for several reasons. First and foremost, I wanted to pay some respect to Toren¡¯s sibling. I felt an odd sort of debt to the former owner of this body, and from what I could infer he had fallen into a pit of despair after the death of his sibling. If there was something I could do to make things right, I wanted to try.


    Standing, I meandered toward a certain landmark that stood a few stories above anything else in the area. I asked Halidar for directions towards the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild, and he had indicated that the tall domed building a bit to the east was the administrative center of East Fiachra.


    From the subtext, it was easy to gather that East Fiachra was some sort of sub-district or borough to the city at large, akin to Manhattan in New York City. They would have maps for most of the important parts of the district.


    It was easy to note the transition between the middle class to the lower-class districts. A metal sign I had missed earlier marked the transition on the street, and avenues suddenly became far narrower. Where before a couple of carriages could be pulled along the same road with room to spare, now a single cart would have a tight squeeze getting through some of these streets. The buildings were cramped together like huddled children fearing the dark.


    The people I saw about were noticeably weary, barely sparing me a second glance. The atmosphere felt alien and unwelcoming, but not because of the people: it was as if the architecture itself didn¡¯t want people to thrive.


    Following some barebones directions from passersby, I gradually reached the administrative building. My brief interactions with the people out and about cemented my assumptions: they seemed more tired and worn rather than outright hostile. At least that was a plus.


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    The few streets nearest the regulatory center of the district were mostly dedicated to smaller businesses: selling food, tools, and the like. The administrative building, however, was easily the most well-kept building I had seen so far in this district. It was a solid structure of gray brick and dark tiled roofing, with accents of red here and there across the masonry. On an engraved dark metal plate over the double doors was a sign that read ¡®East Fiachra Supervisory Hall.¡¯ It seemed I was at the right place.


    Two guards stood on either side of the doors, dressed in the same plate armor I had seen on the guards outside the city. I noticed a detail I had likely missed on the past guards in my delirium, too: a crest depicting an antelope-like horn with a backdrop of water was emblazoned across their chestplates. Considering that symbol was also stamped near the metal plate over the doors, I was willing to bet that was the city¡¯s flag.


    The guards waved me in without preamble. It wasn¡¯t too difficult to find a map inside: in fact, an extremely bored-looking woman at the information desk was handing out pamphlets with a map of the district. Luckily for me, the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild was close by; only a few blocks out of the way.


    The Healer¡¯s Guild was noticeably worn down compared to the ¡®Supervisory Hall,¡¯ but still in better shape than most of the surrounding buildings. It was decorated with lighter tones than most of its surroundings, too.


    I walked up to the single door and walked inside, surveying my surroundings. I was obviously in some sort of waiting room. At a nearby desk, a middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair pulled back in a bun was signing off a few documents.


    I approached the desk, waiting patiently for the woman to finish her work. From the stack of paper she was working through, I suspected it would be a while.


    I coughed into my fist, causing the woman to jump in her seat. She looked up at me, a flash of recognition in her eyes, and if I was right, pity.


    ¡°Ah, Toren. You¡¯re back,¡± she said with a somewhat subdued tone. ¡°We hoped you would return after you left in a rush last time,¡± she said, looking me up and down with a furrowed brow. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about what happened. You seem to be coping better,¡± she half-asked, not unkindly.


    I shuffled awkwardly in place. The woman clearly knew Toren, at least partially. He had apparently been to the Healer¡¯s Guild at least once before. I felt a lot like when somebody recognized you in the grocery store, even recalling past events they remembered you from, but you didn¡¯t recognize them.


    ¡°I¡­ had to settle myself,¡± I replied. ¡°I was not in a good place.¡± That much was certainly true.


    The woman nodded in understanding. ¡°It¡¯s no easy thing, dealing with the death of those we care about. Are you here to visit Norgan¡¯s body?¡± she asked.


    I swallowed, then nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    The woman put a hand on a nearby sphere, focusing mana within. In a few moments, a voice echoed from the ornament. ¡°Yes, Greahd?¡± a man asked over the proto-phone.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a visitor for the mortuary. It¡¯s Toren,¡± she said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there shortly,¡± the voice responded curtly, before cutting off.


    Several minutes passed in awkward silence. The woman, who I now knew as Greahd, watched me earnestly, seemingly struggling to say something.


    She finally spoke. ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry for your loss, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°Just¡­¡± she glanced at the wrapping on my forearm, a small splotch of red seeping through the white cloth. ¡°Please don¡¯t do anything rash. Enough promising youths have made their way here because of the Joans,¡± she said, lowering her voice. ¡°You¡¯ve done so much good. I don¡¯t want to see another light vanishing.¡±


    I furrowed my brow in confusion, opening my mouth to reply. Before I could respond, however, a door opened nearby. A tall man strode over, walking near mechanically. He was dressed in a white surgeon¡¯s coat with not a hair on his head. His face seemed set in a perpetual scowl.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± he said in greeting, recognizing me as well. I nodded, raising a hand for him to shake.


    He didn¡¯t take it.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± he said shortly, before turning on his heel and moving back towards the door. Sparing a glance at the visibly worried Greahd, I hurried to catch up to the man.


    He led me through twisting hallways and past haggard-looking doctors. The sterile smell of hospitals and clinics was heavy in the air, causing a stark contrast to the tired looks of the caretakers. Even the mana-powered lighting artifacts could not lift the perpetual gloom that permeated this place.


    The man strode on in silence, not sparing me a word or glance. I had to fast-walk to keep up with his long stride.


    After descending a set of stairs, we finally entered what I could recognize as a mortuary. The atmosphere seemed darker here, with a lower ceiling and fewer sources of light. A few more mana-powered devices spotted the area, performing some sort of function I couldn¡¯t discern.


    We stopped in front of a door near the end of the stone hallway. The man turned to me, finally allowing me to catch a glance at a nametag on his coat. ¡®Trelza,¡¯ it read.


    ¡°He is in here,¡± the doctor said, the same near-emotionless expression plastered across his face. Between that, his tall, lanky build, and bald head, the man was far more intimidating than I wanted to admit. He pointed toward a small device on the side of the door which looked like a primitive touchscreen. ¡°Sound inside is muted by this artifact,¡± he said, tapping a passcode in and activating the device.


    I nodded. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, before opening the door. The room inside was darker than outside, with a single chair and end table the only furniture. A lamp glowed softly, casting warm orange light across the stones. Where before the building smelt of cleaning products and strange sterility, now I could smell nothing at all.


    And at the center of the room was a casket. I approached it slowly, noting the glass top.


    The emotions in my body built, the echo of Toren growing a shade of grief and despair. My breath hitched, halting my steps at the unexpected torrent of emotions. The feedback I got from this body, emotion-wise, had never been so strong. I fell unsteadily, landing on my hands and knees. The movement jostled my ribs once again, causing me to gasp. I fought back tears, not from the pain, but from the overwhelming grief.


    The mana about me rippled slightly, unconsciously affected by my emotion. I felt it press back into me, a surprisingly sobering feeling.


    The emotions passed after a minute, allowing me to pull myself unsteadily to my feet. I was breathing heavily, tears at the edges of my eyes. The worst part of it all was that these emotions weren¡¯t even my own, and I felt them in full force. If these feelings were my own, I would have a way to address them. To work over the cause.


    I took a hesitant step toward the casket. It beckoned for me like the hand of some sort of demon; promising me knowledge and understanding at the price of myself. Steeling myself, I finally peered into the casket.


    My breath hitched once more. Instead of grief, though, disbelief and denial welled up in my throat.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, taking a step back, still staring a the face in the coffin. Their eyes were closed in peaceful rest, hands crossed over their chest. Short brown hair framed a familiar face. Familiar to me, not to Toren. A face that shouldn¡¯t be here.


    No, it was impossible. Couldn¡¯t be.


    My breathing picked up; questions and demands rolled about in my head. Why were they here? What connection did Toren and I have? What did this mean for my previous world? I clutched my hands to the side of my head, pulling at my hair in a maddened frenzy.


    Because lying in that casket, still as the corpse they were, was a boy with the face of my brother.


    Questions I had sequestered into that box in the depths of my psyche burst forth once more, tearing at the edges of my mind.


    I stumbled backward, falling into the nearby chair with a crash. Darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision, forcing out anything else. I stumbled back, confusion and terror taking the place of disbelief. I hadn¡¯t the time to even steady myself before everything went black. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 7: Contract

    Toren Daen


    I floated in a sea of thought. I drifted under luminous water, pushed along by currents of emotion and consciousness. All around me were crumbs of everything I knew. I was an indistinct body of blaring white; featureless and empty. I watched as a book meandered along the current, pulled past my lazy form.


    ¡®The Beginning After the End,¡¯ it read in flowing golden script.


    Orbs of light began to flicker along the same current I was in, streaming toward something. I knew I had a destination. And this flow: it was my friend and companion in this journey. My possessions drifted in the current with me, flashing between orbs of light: things that together made a collage of who I was. An old photo of my family together when I was young, a worn stuffed animal long since left behind, my first earned dollar. From afar, it probably looked like useless clutter. But every item meant something real to me, something core to myself.


    Slowly, more items began to join the current. They were unfamiliar though, causing a new emotion to rise in the deep blue. A beautiful violin drifted close to an old vinyl record from one of my favorite bands. A painting of myself and my brother, far younger and in clothes fitting for a Renaissance fair, mingled with the phone I had held on to for years. I spied a piece of paper, too: some sort of official document stamped with a winged serpent swam about my college degree.


    They shouldn¡¯t be with me, I knew, but they somehow still filled in the gaps I didn¡¯t even notice were there. My confusion shifted to anticipation, however, as my destination neared. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My body and all the things that made me me shifted up and up, towards the surface of the water. I breached the surface, streaking into the sky. Dawn was stretching its warm breath over the horizon, exhaling pinks and purples and oranges across the sky in a beautiful display. I soared towards the edge of the light, my pace speeding up exponentially. Items moved with me, dancing merrily in the sky about me.


    I laughed in a strange sense of euphoria, the hope and joy from the rising sun washing over me like a mother¡¯s embrace. The horizon inched closer, a possible impossibility. The sun peeked over the water, greeting me with its warmth. At the center, somehow visible even through the glare, was a single red feather.


    It pulled me onward, beckoning me to my fate. I extended my arms, the heat finally suffusing me. I pulled the items into my body one by one. It was right: each filling a puzzle piece in my spirit. With every memento and every memory that merged with me, my body grew more defined. My skin changed from glowing white to a familiar pale skin tone. My face shifted, my features growing sharper. Hair grew from my head, short and well-groomed.


    I gasped, finally whole.


    ¡ª


    I snapped awake, nearly stumbling off the chair I was draped across. I patted myself down, assuring myself I wasn¡¯t a stark-white being that looked too much like Truth from Full Metal Alchemist for my comfort. Everything was in place.


    Everything was in place.


    I slowly lowered my hands.


    I let out a shuddering breath, walking toward the casket once more. Norgan lay within, peaceful in his final rest. He was taken far too soon, and I could only wish he had found another chance as I had. He deserved better than what he got.


    His body was clothed, but I knew a stab wound had pierced his sternum and severed the spinal cord, shattering his mana core and dooming him to a slow, painful death.


    I could remember the moment it had happened, now: the thin blade piercing his body with barely any resistance. Norgan¡¯s expression: more disbelief than pain. And my own helplessness as I was forced to watch our aggressor¡¯s anger as she stripped me of all that I cared for.


    I wiped the tears from my cheeks, ignoring the ache it caused my arm. I stared at the corpse for a few more minutes, memorizing every detail. The structure of the face, the build of his body, his eyes closed in peaceful rest. I burned every speck into my mind, ensuring I would never forget it.


    Toren had¨Cwe had¨Cdespaired before at his¨Cour¨Cbrother¡¯s situation. Norgan hadn¡¯t died naturally; he had been ripped from us. Stolen by those who would take and take and take until there was nothing left.


    Instead of despair now, though, I felt a steady anger, like the simmering coals at the bottom of a fire. It burned hot and dark; contained and focused. Toren had despaired before because he held no power.


    I still held no power. But that didn¡¯t mean I couldn¡¯t gain that power.


    I let out a long breath, forcefully stilling my face and masking my emotions. Then I left the mortuary room.


    Doctor Trelza waited outside, still as stern and emotionless as ever. ¡°Daen,¡± he greeted as his gaze tracked me up and down. ¡°You were inside for three hours,¡± he added with iron. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I would assume he was chastising me. ¡°Have you made a decision?¡±


    Trelza was a stern man, but that was because of the nature of his work. He watched enough people die to the power struggles of Alacrya to bleed a man of any empathy. And still, he carried on, operating this clinic for the betterment of the poorest district of Fiachra.


    ¡°I have,¡± I said calmly. ¡°I would like my brother buried. With the rest of our family.¡±


    Just about the only nice thing in Alacryan society was the government-sponsored burials for those who couldn¡¯t afford them.


    At least if you were of a Named Blood.


    The doctor began to walk back toward the upper levels of the Healer¡¯s Guild. I fell in behind him, ruminating in my new state.


    I was Toren, and yet I was simultaneously not. We were bound by a single intersection: that of our brother, Norgan. I couldn¡¯t quite tell how yet, or why at all. But now, I had all of Toren¡¯s memories and emotions merged with my own. I was still the computer science student of my previous life, but I was also the son of a disgraced noble bloodline in a magical world.


    I wasn¡¯t sure who I was now, but I would have time for the nascent identity crisis later. The only name I could use was Toren Daen, so that was who I would be.


    Trelza reached the door to the Healer¡¯s Guild lobby but stopped before opening it. He turned to me, a lighting artifact reflecting off his shaved head.


    ¡°Daen,¡± he said with a hint of something more in his voice. ¡°I have seen many men leave this building with grief in their veins and fire in their hearts.¡± He paused a long while, looking at me with his unnerving stern gaze. ¡±Do not seek vengeance. It is a pointless endeavor.¡± His eyes bored into my own. ¡°Do not spit on your brother¡¯s grave by dying just the same.¡±


    I knew now how our brother had died. And I knew the ones responsible: Blood Joan.


    I stared back at Trelza, anger still simmering in my gut. ¡°I won¡¯t seek vengeance,¡± I lied, clenching my fists at my sides. ¡°I have no way to even act on any ¡®fire¡¯ I might have in my heart,¡± I said mockingly. Trelza didn¡¯t look convinced. Seconds ticked by as he stared me down.


    ¡°I swear this on the Sovereigns,¡± I added for good measure, knowing the weight those words would carry for any other Alacryan.


    Our standoff continued a second longer before the man turned once more, opening the door. ¡°That is the greatest vow you can make,¡± he said. ¡°Do not break it.¡±


    The Sovereigns of Alacrya weren¡¯t my gods. Blood Joan had murdered my brother, and I would see them destroyed.


    ¡ª


    It was late afternoon when I returned to my apartment, following now-familiar routes and shortcuts back to the building. Once I entered my room, I immediately bee-lined for a certain spot on the floor. Prying up a floorboard, I retrieved a dusty wooden box, inlaid with runes and complicated filigree. With a pulse of my mana, it unlocked; attuned to my mana signature as the key.


    Within was a significant sum of coins, at least by Toren¡¯s standards. A signet ring also laid there, the last symbol of Named Blood Daen yet remaining. The image was that of a small knife sprouting flowing runes like a rush of water. The Daens hadn¡¯t been the most powerful family in Fiachra, but they had sponsored and sired powerful ascenders for many years. They were close to Highblood status at their prime, but had made a terrible gamble in the previous war between the Dominions of Vechor and Sehz-Clar. Most of their forces were decimated in a critical loss near the city of Dzianis in Vechor.


    One Blood had taken advantage of that misstep, nearly eradicating the entirety of Named Blood Daen in a few nights.


    That was over thirty years ago. All that remained were Toren¡¯s parents and an old steward. His¨Cmy?--parents were far from the line of succession, leaving them relatively unknown.


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    And after they passed, then there were two.


    I withdrew the pouch of coins, counting out the sum for next month¡¯s rent. Once I had measured it out with a few spare coins for things like food and emergencies, I stashed the difference into the pouch on my waist. It clinked heavily now, near full to bursting. Dozens of gold crests sat heavily against my thigh.


    Toren had saved this money over years of labor. Now I would spend most of it in a few days.


    ¡°Lady Dawn?¡± I asked the air with conviction.


    Nothing happened. No shift in vision, no darkness and eddies of mist.


    ¡°I want to make a deal,¡± I said aloud, staring off into space. I waited for several heartbeats. ¡°Do you want Agrona dead? His plans disrupted?¡±


    Nothing happened. I suspected Lady Dawn hadn¡¯t taken my last attempt at consolation well, stating that Agrona was fallible. I hadn¡¯t backed it up, after all. And I didn¡¯t know the phoenix well enough to understand exactly what the High Sovereign had done to her.


    But it couldn¡¯t have been good.


    I took a deep breath, preparing to use my trump card for this negotiation. ¡°I can stop the reincarnation of the Legacy. I know how he¡¯s going to do it. I know the Vessel.¡±


    My vision flashed to yawning darkness near immediately, a now-familiar muting and dampening of all senses but sight washing over me. I sat tensely in a chair by my desk, matching the blazing gaze of Lady Dawn.


    Her dusky purple face formed a deep scowl, glaring at me as if her eyes could set me alight. She probably could, even as a shade.


    ¡°What do you know?¡± she hissed, the greatest bout of emotion I had yet seen crossing her features.


    ¡°I know how Agrona plans to reincarnate the Legacy,¡± I replied, thinking of the raging war on Dicathen. Luckily, the war had only started a month or two ago. I had time to grow and make a difference. ¡°I know who he will use to anchor her; bring her into this world.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s suppressed anger slowly dissipated into disbelief, her red-feathered hair flaring in agitation. ¡°You do know of his plans¡­ But it doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± she muttered to herself in disbelief. ¡°You can¡¯t be his pawn, not from where I took you. But how else? How could he have tainted you?¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s words were unnerving, but I needed to push on. The next part of my plan would require delicacy. What I was doing was bold and dangerous beyond anything I had ever attempted and in a way I could hardly yet comprehend. I was going to bargain with the closest thing I had ever known to a deity, banking entirely on knowledge of the future gained from another world.


    I leaned forward, clasping my hands together. ¡°I can stop it,¡± I offered. ¡°If I¡¯m in the right place. At the right time.¡±


    Lady Dawn refocused on me, understanding my hidden message. ¡°With enough power,¡± she finished. She scrutinized me up and down with her eyes of flame, seemingly considering something. ¡°Why should I trust you, lesser? Why should I allow you any power?¡± The phoenix tilted her head. ¡°In fact, you¡¯re closer to a pawn of the Vritra than I would have expected, no matter the impossibilities¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what your plan was, reincarnating me here.¡± I continued on, emboldened by my leg up and the anger in my bones. ¡°But I have a sense that what you got wasn¡¯t what you expected.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s hair flared. ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question, lesser. What right do you have to the power of asura?¡± A near-palpable wave of intent rushed from the phoenix and pressed me into the seat, causing my utter confidence to disappear. My heart caught in my throat as sweat beaded on my skin. Had I misjudged the phoenix? Would she kill me here? ¡°You don¡¯t know what you toy with. You don¡¯t know your place,¡± she said with a note of anger. ¡°What could make Agrona fall?¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s intent made me squirm in my chair, a palpable energy pushing me down. I needed to act. Had to do something, or I¡¯d die of a heart attack before I could say a word. My emotions began to fizzle as my ability to think quavered under the force. What was I going to say?


    I coughed and gasped, my eyes bugging out of my head. ¡°Ch-Chul,¡± I sputtered the name of Lady Dawn¡¯s son, hacking the words out desperately. The King¡¯s Force promptly vanished. I fell forward onto the floorboards, heaving deep gulps of air from my hands and knees. I realized with dawning horror that after a certain point, I hadn¡¯t even truly felt fear when her King¡¯s Force slammed into me. I was so deep under her intent that most of my emotions had blanked.


    Lady Dawn strode forward, standing before me. From my place on the ground, I could only see her ankles in front of me, covered by her orange sundress. I kept my eyes on the floorboards, thoroughly subdued by the weight of her power.


    ¡°Speak,¡± she commanded. ¡°Explain yourself.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve trusted a mortal with power before,¡± I said with defeat. I had entered this conversation confidently, hopped up on anger from my brother¡¯s death and belief in a novel from another world. Yet Lady Dawn¡¯s King¡¯s Force disabused me of that false bravado. I knew what I felt was barely a fraction of a fraction of what she held. Asura could cause the common man to have a heart attack by merely pressing on the mana around them, and considering I was still alive, the phoenix had been going easy on me. ¡°A Djinn. Enough for Chul.¡±


    Chul was Lady Dawn¡¯s son, a half-phoenix, half-djinn. And he was at the Hearth right now, sheltered with Mordain Asclepius.


    Lady Dawn stayed silent for a long while, standing over me like the god she was.


    A minute ticked by uncomfortably. I was still staring at the ground beneath her feet. ¡°Why don¡¯t you pry the knowledge from my mind?¡± I asked, confident she could do just that. Or at least torture me for the information.


    After a moment, the phoenix knelt down, her orange sundress brushing the floor. None of the dust was kicked up, but it caused a wave of color as the sun from the window reflected off of it. I felt a hand under my chin, tilting my head up.


    Lady Dawn was still above me, but far closer now. She searched for something in my eyes, an expression of pinched sorrow on her face. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She released my chin but stayed kneeling. ¡°I will not rape your mind,¡± she said with quiet bitterness. She opened her eyes once more, and the blaze had reduced to that of simmering coals. ¡°I will not invade you as Agrona does. Touch and twist what makes you whole. None deserve that, no matter their race.¡±


    A steady silence stretched between us before Lady Dawn stood, turning away from me. The sunlight reflected odd hues off her form, sending shimmering tones of an early morning sky across her body. ¡°I only once trusted a mortal,¡± she said wistfully, still turned away from me. ¡°But that was a long time ago.¡±


    I struggled to my feet, the aftereffects of her King¡¯s Force still lingering over my body. It felt like I had been run over by a truck several times over, and I was pretty sure my ribs had been damaged again.


    She turned to me once more, cocking her head. ¡°You are confident that you can disrupt Agrona¡¯s plans?¡± she asked, an undisguised note of hope inlaid into her authoritative tone.


    My thoughts drifted to the war in Dicathen. Agrona¡¯s plans hinged on capturing Tessia Eralith to become the Legacy¡¯s Vessel. To do that, he would leverage the poison inside of the girl that the corrupted Elderwood Guardian inflicted, using the antidote to blackmail her father, Alduin Eralith, into surrendering Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. The flying castle had portals keyed to every city in Dicathen, allowing a swift assault on every stronghold all at once. Key locations would fall like dominoes in a masterclass victory, ensuring the defeat of an entire continent. With the war lost, the elven princess would be easy pickings.


    Dicathen was doomed to lose the war: the difference in numbers, power, preparation, and technical logistics was far too vast between the continents. Alacryan mages honed themselves against the Relictombs, expecting to battle the Sovereign¡¯s enemies. Their entire culture revolved around battle. Furthermore, every one in one hundred children could become a mage in Dicathen, developing a mana core and training in magic.


    But in Alacrya, that average was one in five.


    I could delay the inevitable: maybe get the antidote myself and cure Tessia of her ailment. Perhaps I could warn the other Council Members of Alduin¡¯s betrayal, even if it was understandable.


    But Agrona hadn¡¯t even been trying when he won the war, I knew. Most of the ascenders, some of the best-trained mages in Alacrya, were not deployed in any attack. The Wraiths hadn¡¯t even been sent in, and each was more powerful than the Scythes that outclassed every Lance but Arthur. If I delayed the war too far, the slaughter and death could ramp up tenfold as the head of the Vritra Clan deployed his real forces.


    But there was a surefire way to deny Agrona his prize.


    I could kill one of the anchors.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, collapsing back into the chair. I had no idea what would happen anymore, and my mind felt sluggish and weak. I deserved that, I suppose. Trying to bargain with a physical god would do that to a man. ¡°I know who the anchors are; the reincarnates who will be used to bring the Legacy to this world,¡± I said. ¡°But I need the power to kill one.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t¨Ccouldn¡¯t¨Ckill Arthur. I could deny Agrona his Legacy, but Arthur would be all that stood between two raging clans of asura. His eventual mastery of aether was critical to allowing the mortals of this world to survive. I couldn¡¯t kill him. And no matter the power Lady Dawn granted me, it was unlikely I would ever get the strength to actually hurt the man once he gained his aether core.


    But Nico? Nico would commit atrocities; murder thousands of Dicathians in cold blood in a vain attempt to revive his dead fiance. And then he would deliver Cecilia into the outstretched hands of Agrona, putting her in the exact position she had committed suicide to avoid.


    Lady Dawn scrutinized me with her eyes of ember for a long while, watching my thoughts play out across my face. ¡°We shall form a contract,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Between you and I.¡±


    I looked up at the phoenix, my eyes going wide. Was she truly¡­?


    ¡°I agree to grant you power; Will enough to see your task more than complete. In return,¡± she paused, tilting her head once more. ¡°You will do everything in your power to stop the reincarnation of the Legacy. Failing to do so will shatter your core and scatter your power to the wind,¡± she finished.


    She held a hand out for me, beckoning me to shake. I looked at the hand, realizing what it would compel me to do.


    The most surefire way to stop the reincarnation of the Legacy was to cut off her anchors. But was I willing to condemn a man for actions he had not yet committed? Was Nico deserving of death because of what he would do in the future, one I wasn¡¯t certain was even concrete?


    I realized then that it didn¡¯t matter. I couldn¡¯t afford to contemplate the repercussions of this decision right now, not when so much lay in the balance. Even if I denied this deal, this offering of gratuitous power, what would come after?


    Alacrya was a land governed by strength. If I did not grow in power, I would be a pawn at the whim of those greater than me. I would never have my own agency ever again.


    At least the prison this contract offered me was clear in its bars. But to live on this continent without the strength to defend myself? My chains would be everywhere I looked and everywhere I didn¡¯t look, too.


    So I chose the cage I knew.


    ¡°I agree to your terms,¡± I said wearily, shaking the phoenix¡¯s hand. Immediately, my arm began to burn where our palms met. The burning traced up my arm to my core, lancing it with sudden force. I gasped, stumbling backward as the edges of my vision darkened for the second time in the day.


    ¡°I shall hold you to your word,¡± I heard Lady Dawn say, echoing as if underwater. ¡°I will hold to mine.¡±

 Chapter 8: Brother

    Toren Daen


    Norgan and I walked along South Orlaeth Street, each strolling with a skip in our step. A slight grin stretched across my face, and looking at my brother¡¯s own, I could see the edges of his lips curled into a more devious smirk.


    It was a good day, one where the pieces we had worked for for years started finally coming into place. I had finally advanced my mark to a crest, gaining enough understanding of the spellform on my own to push forward to the next tier. Norgan had got another mark at a recent bestowment, and one that greatly complemented the spellform he already had. And after one last shift of grueling work at the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild, my brother and I would have finally saved up enough money to apply for the magic schools of the Western district of the city.


    As we walked in the morning light, I subtly glanced at my brother once more. His body was thin: unhealthily so. Where before the observation would cause guilt to churn in my stomach, now a surge of relief took its place.


    Once we were enrolled¨CI knew both he and I would pass the entrance exams with flying colors, so it was only a matter of time¨Cwe wouldn¡¯t need to skip so many meals. We could both put some meat on our bones.


    Norgan looked at me as we weaved through the morning pedestrians. His eyes sparkled with an intelligence that sometimes scared me. We were only a year apart in age, and yet he was already my better in so many things.


    ¡°What do you think the Striker school exams will be like?¡± he asked idly. ¡°What kind of challenges do you think they¡¯ll have?¡±


    I thought about it for a moment. ¡°Probably sparring,¡± I answered. ¡°I mean, what better way to tell if you¡¯re good at Striking than fighting another opponent?¡±


    My brother nodded. ¡°Yeah, they probably will.¡± He furrowed his brow. ¡°But sparring probably won¡¯t count for much,¡± he added. ¡°Different strikers have different skills, after all. I think the test will have a teamwork section,¡± he theorized.


    My brows raised of their own accord, seeing my brother¡¯s thought process immediately. Mages were generally separated into several distinct types based on the runes they received: shields, casters, strikers, sentries, and instillers. The three combat-focused designations¨Cshields, casters, and strikers¨Cusually formed combat teams together, working together as a unit and covering each other¡¯s weaknesses.


    My rune designated me as a caster. Telekinesis wasn¡¯t a common rune to acquire and was generally considered weak. After all, a spellform that shot a dozen spikes of rock at an enemy was far more effective than having to push rock around with your mind. The latter took more effort for the same effect, and you couldn¡¯t conjure your ammunition yourself.


    So it made sense that the exams would likely have a section dedicated to teamwork.


    ¡°I think we can make do without a shield,¡± I said consideringly as we crossed over one of the canals Fiachra was famous for. ¡°I mean, our teamwork is enough to make the Scythes jealous,¡± I said with a smile.


    My brother stuck a leg out in front of me suddenly, causing me to stumble and bump into a wall. ¡°You could¡¯ve really used a shield then, Toren,¡± he mocked primly. ¡°Maybe you wouldn¡¯t have scraped your arm.¡±


    Scowling, I used a mild application of my telekinesis rune to pull on the drawstrings of Norgan¡¯s trousers. He stumbled too when his pants began to fall, leaving me to cackle as he hastily tied them back up. ¡°I think you could use a sentry to watch your pants,¡± I said with a grin. ¡°Maybe to keep them from running away?¡±


    ¡°Haha,¡± my brother said in a monotone, but from the glimmer in his eye, I could see he was amused.


    Our walk continued for a bit longer: we were going to our last shift at the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild, at least for a little while. The magic schools paid stipends based on performance in classes, and both Norgan and I were confident in our abilities to excel.


    Norgan, however, began to slow. We were atop another bridge, this one smaller and for foot traffic only. He looked out over the rushing water of the canals, a somber tone to his voice. ¡°I wish Arlen could see us now,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re almost ready to start our lives.¡±


    I looked out over the waterways with my brother, silently agreeing with him. Arlen was the last steward of Named Blood Daen, tasked with raising the two of us and giving us a proper Blood education. Even if our Blood had fallen, according to the old man our pride should still remain.


    Arlen had passed away a couple of years ago from old age.


    Now we were close. Once Norgan and I were out of the academies, we would form an ascender¡¯s team, just the two of us. Named Bloods were families that had gained acclaim and status from their ascensions, and we¡¯d do it all over again for our fallen family. We¡¯d claw back to our Named Blood status once more with accolades and glory from the Relictombs.


    ¡°Arlen would look at us and shake his head,¡± I said forlornly, the exact image in my mind. ¡°Say the scions of Named Blood Daen shouldn¡¯t be mingling with unads and healers.¡± I snorted. ¡°We lost that illusion pretty quick.¡±


    Norgan laughed lightly. ¡°By the Sovereigns, did we. Being left on your own does that to you.¡±


    I patted my brother on the back. ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to think of the past though, brother. The future awaits!¡± I said grandly, gesturing with my other hand. ¡°To the ascension of Named Blood Daen!¡± I said, holding a fist out for him to bump.


    Norgan grinned. ¡°May all who doubted us eat our dust,¡± he said in agreement. He raised his fist to meet mine, then paused. A frown creased his brow as he leaned to the side slightly, peering at something behind me.


    My smirk slipped from my face. ¡°What do you see?¡± I asked, turning around to peer behind me. My eyes widened in alarm, quickly spotting what had disturbed my brother


    In an alley a ways away, I could just make out a man looming over a curled-up woman. I couldn¡¯t discern their features well from the distance, but Norgan could.


    He bolted towards the alley, calling back to me. ¡°That¡¯s Duena! The lady we treated a few weeks ago!¡± He said back. I began to run side by side with him. As we got closer, I was able to finally place the features. It was her!


    The man, who I could now see was wearing a dark hood, raised a gloved fist, ready to bring it down on the trembling Duena. She closed her eyes, shaking in fear.


    But his back was to us.


    Norgan engaged one of his marks, a rune that wrapped his legs in wind. It propelled him forward in a streak, the blowback nearly knocking me off my feet.


    The man turned quickly, revealing a face masked by a black cloth. The eyes peering beneath the mask had barely a moment to widen before Norgan¡¯s feet impacted his chest in a perfectly executed dropkick, sending him careening deeper into the alley with a burst of wind.


    The masked man hit a crate with a crack, splintering wood. Norgan landed gracefully between Duena and the dark-clothed assailant.


    Knowing my brother could keep watch himself, I knelt to help Duena. She was an older woman, nearing the end of her middle-aged years. We had assisted Doctor Trelza in setting a broken arm and partially healing it, something that was almost undone just now. Her arm was still in a cast, though the cast was dirty and damaged in several places.


    The woman herself had a black eye and several bad scrapes, but nothing more serious. She would recover fine.


    She looked up at me with terrified eyes, looking around for her assailant.


    ¡°Duena?¡± I said, trying to calm her. ¡°Duena,¡± She focused on me. Good. ¡°I need you to run to the Healer¡¯s Guild. Send some guards over, please.¡±


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    The masked man was rising back to his feet, snarling all the while. Norgan shifted into a defensive stance as he stood over us, shielding us with his body.


    ¡°Please!¡± I snapped, the man stalking back making me anxious. The woman startled, glancing between me, my brother, and our assailant, before running off in obvious haste.


    I stood up, cracking my knuckles and moving beside my brother. As I took a calming breath, we stared down the masked man, ready to fight.


    The man stood in an agitated stance, growling under his mask. Two cold grey eyes glared at us, snapping between my brother and me. ¡°Do you fools know who you¡¯re dealing with? Who you just hit?!


    ¡±he hissed. From his voice, I reassessed my description of them as a man. They sounded younger¨Clate teens, maybe?


    ¡°We don¡¯t,¡± my brother replied, cracking his neck. He shifted into a more aggressive stance now that Duena had gotten away, but I noted the nervous edge to his features. ¡°But we can¡¯t let you hurt anybody here.¡±


    Norgan was right. Especially about the need to protect Duena: she had been kind to us when my brother and I were first thrust out into the streets. And we had begun to repay her by treating her broken arm, but that debt was far from settled.


    But the fact that this masked teen was assaulting a woman in broad daylight caused alarm bells to ring in my head: especially when we were so close to the administrative center of East Fiachra. The guards would be on us in minutes. Why did this man think he could act without consequences?


    Sparing another glance at my brother, I noted the slight nervous edge in his eyes. He had reached the same conclusion as I, of course. But that didn¡¯t change what we had to do.


    Our opponent laughed. ¡°You won¡¯t let me? I can do what I want,¡± he spat, rushing at us with a burst of fire around his feet. Norgan shifted, parrying the masked assailant¡¯s strike with a wind-clad fist. Norgan retaliated quickly, ducking underneath a kick coated in flames.


    Then, my brother lashed his own fist up in an uppercut. It wouldn¡¯t land, I knew: the trajectory was off a few inches for a sure blow.


    I braced, then flared my crest, sending mana into it in a burst. I pushed my hand to the side, the action helping me visualize the spell easier. A speckling of white flickered next to our opponent, pushing him hard to the side. I was consequently shoved in the opposite direction, but I had been ready.


    The masked teen, already off-balance from his flaming kick, was shoved into my brother¡¯s devastating blow. His chin snapped up from the strike, his teeth audibly clacking together. His body lifted off the ground in a small gale. A gurgled gasp escaped his throat, blood and spittle flying from his mouth.


    Norgan shifted his stance, following up with his other hand in a wind-coated palm to our enemy¡¯s chest, blowing him backward in a gust. As he flew, I tugged lightly on his leg with my telekinesis, sending his simple arc into a careening tumble.


    He kicked up dirt once he hit the ground, farther down the alley than before. His landing was no doubt more painful due to my interference. I could only apply telekinesis to one target at a time, but that just meant I would need to use it in creative ways.


    My brother and I squared ourselves, our long practice finally paying off. Norgan was the frontline fighter, devastating our enemies with his strikes. I would run interference, putting our opponents off balance and assisting however I could.


    ¡°You done? Nothing you try here will help, I promise that,¡± I said mockingly. The black-clad teen pulled himself shakily to his feet, small flickering embers sparking around him. ¡°You¡¯re trapped, and the guards will be here any moment.¡±


    The teen had perhaps found himself in the worst possible situation to fight us. We were in a narrow alley, which forced him into a head-on assault. I was protected behind my brother, able to lend support and provide cover with ease. And from the few exchanges we had, it seemed that Norgan held the upper hand in close-quarters combat as well.


    The teen spit out a glob of blood, glaring at us with a look that could kill. ¡°You slum-rats don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re dealing with, do you?¡± He steadied himself, seeming ready to rush us again. They never learned. ¡°You¡¯ll die miserably, you hear?¡± he hissed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± my brother said sternly.


    The fight restarted quickly, but our opponent was more wary this time. Instead of approaching normally, he waved a hand, conjuring several fist-sized fireballs. Without a moment to spare, the fireballs flew toward us in a streak.


    Aware of my precarious position behind him, Norgan turned his focus towards deflecting the fireballs. He punched one with a wind-clad fist, dispersing it in a wave of heat. The second he batted into the ground, kicking up a wave of dust. The last he cut in half with a sharp knife-hand.


    But that distraction had allowed our enemy to get in close. He leapt out of the dust, arcing high. Another fireball trailed in front of him, forcing my brother to divert his attention. Norgan had time to deflect the last fireball, but it clearly took effort. His hand was singed afterward and was left painfully open.


    As our opponent brought his flame-cloaked fist down towards my brother, I barely had enough time to push Norgan¡¯s head out of the way with a flare of white telekinesis. The strike still clipped his ear, singing some of his hair.


    Thinking quickly, I scooped up a handful of rocks from the ground. Norgan and our opponent began to exchange a flurry of wind-enhanced and fire-cloaked strikes, heat being dispersed across the narrow alleyway.


    ¡°Reverse!¡± I yelled over the fighting. My brother understood immediately, slipping a punch and disengaging.


    Our enemy, his face twisted in an expression of rage visible even through his mask, rushed to follow. Unexpectedly, my brother weaved behind the masked teen, switching places with him.


    Once again, our opponent¡¯s back was to me. Something I immediately capitalized on.


    My telekinesis was exponentially stronger the closer my target was to me. So when I threw my handful of pebbles with a pulse of telekinesis behind them, they accelerated to absurd speeds. They rocketed forward, impacting the masked teen¡¯s back with a dozen meaty thunks. Blood flew as the rocks dug into his back and shredded his clothing, sending our opponent staggering forward with a howl of pain.


    My brother didn¡¯t let the opening my attack provided go, yelling as wind built in his fist. Norgan swung it in a brutal hook, connecting with the teen¡¯s temple with a crack. Our opponent slammed into the dirt, his head bouncing off the ground.


    He was out cold.


    Norgan shook his hand, wincing slightly. His last punch had rattled his knuckles, but not nearly as much as our unconscious enemy¡¯s skull. I released a breath I didn¡¯t know I had been holding. A small amount of blood pooled on the ground beneath our downed enemy from his back. I had guessed the teen had some form of physical reinforcement from the beating he had fought through, so judged it safe to pepper him with that spray of rocks. It wouldn¡¯t kill him, but it would take a while to heal.


    I clapped Norgan on the back, my laugh dispelling much of my nerves. ¡°Got him at last,¡± I said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that would work so well.¡±


    Norgan exhaled. ¡°We practiced enough on our joint strategies, brother. Or did you doubt their effectiveness?¡± he asked with a raised brow.


    ¡°Not at all,¡± I replied earnestly. ¡°I¡¯m just used to things going wrong. I was expecting a roof to collapse on you. Or maybe the road would fall out from under me,¡± I joked.


    ¡°Always the cynic,¡± Norgan replied, shaking his head. ¡°What should we do with him?¡± Norgan asked, nodding toward the unconscious teen.


    ¡°The guards should be here any second,¡± I said. ¡°You made quite a ruckus.¡± Something glinted in the sun near our fallen foe, a reflection of the sun on metal. I frowned, kneeling down to inspect the object.


    I picked up a small brooch. On it was a stylized ember overlaid on a forking river, which converged into a sharpened point. It was well-made: clearly for someone of high birth.


    ¡°Norgan,¡± I said with growing unease, showing him the bit of jewelry. ¡°You know the crest on this brooch?¡±


    Norgan¡¯s brow furrowed in worry. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, his gaze flicking to our downed opponent and back again. ¡°Blood Joan. That¡¯s not good.¡±


    Blood Joan was powerful within Fiachra. It didn¡¯t wield Highblood levels of power, at least not yet. But they were near the top of the pecking order. Our instructor Arlen had taken great care to teach us most of the houses of Fiachra and what they represented.


    And Blood Joan had nearly eradicated Named Blood Daen thirty years ago. Our mother, a young teen at the time, had only escaped the massacre because of a head cold that kept her away from the trap. Now Norgan and I were all that was left.


    If we hurt one of their members, the repercussions would be severe. I wasn¡¯t the most adept at political theory, but I knew the shame a supposedly defeated enemy trouncing the victor years later could mean. It was a blow to the pride of their Blood.


    I opened my mouth to speak, but a chilling voice cut through my thoughts. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you know that crest,¡± they said.


    Both Norgan and I spun, settling into our predetermined battle setup. From over my brother¡¯s shoulder, I could see the person who had spoken.


    They were clad in a similar black to the teen we had beaten but with a noticeable feminine physique. A long, thin dagger was strapped to their hip, not yet drawn.


    Wind slowly twisted around my brother¡¯s limbs as we faced this new threat. Worrying signs blared in my mind: most of all, neither my brother nor I had noticed this woman approaching. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°And why is that?¡± I asked through gritted teeth, my eyes flickering around the alley for an escape route. The fact that we couldn¡¯t sense the woman either meant she had a stealth rune or her core was significantly above ours in purity. But we were blocked in. Norgan might be able to get out, but he would have to leave me behind.


    The woman looked at me, and even through the mask, I could sense her amusement. ¡°I¡¯ll have to kill the both of you now,¡± she said cooly.


    It seemed we wouldn¡¯t be getting out of that alley anytime soon.

 Chapter 9: Letter of Consolation

    Toren Daen


    The woman attacked with far more speed than the teen had before. Fire burst from her feet, launching her toward Norgan. My brother barely managed to deflect her first blow, staggering back from the force.


    The woman jabbed with absurd speed, lightning coating her fist. I tried to push her hand out of the way with a burst of telekinesis, but a tendril of the lightning shrouding her hand sparked, lancing off and shattering my spell before it could have an effect.


    The blow collided with Norgan¡¯s jaw, an audible crack of thunder and bone echoing across the dim alleyway. Norgan flew back, nearly colliding with me. I screamed, hurling a slew of rocks with a telekinesis-enhanced throw at our assailant.


    The woman waved her hand nonchalantly, lightning snaking out and striking each of my pebbles before they could hit her. They burst on contact, causing small puffs of dirt-brown dust to pop in the air. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Undeterred by being blown across the alley, Norgan rocketed forward once more in a gale of wind, trying to land a hit on the woman. He threw a flurry of wind-pushed punches and kicks, becoming a whirlwind of force. The woman ducked and weaved around him, not even striking back. She was toying with Norgan.


    I searched the alleyway desperately for something I could use, finally remembering the metal brooch I clutched desperately in my hand. It had drawn blood from how tight I had been gripping it.


    I let that anger fuel me. I concentrated my telekinesis rune as much as I could, trying to shrink the surface area of my push as much as possible, which would simultaneously increase the force I could apply. Several seconds passed as I focused more intensely than I ever had on my spellform.


    ¡°Norgan!¡± I screamed over the roar of his wind, ¡°Strike two!¡± I yelled, hoping he would hear me. We had developed codes for different formations, and I damned well hoped he remembered them now. If he didn¡¯t, we were dead.


    My brother disengaged quickly, allowing me to finally see his jaw. It was clearly dislocated in some way, painfully set to the side. Blood trickled from his mouth in several places.


    My years of experience at the Healer¡¯s Guild surfaced as I looked at his jaw, a dozen different ways to set a dislocated joint flashing through my mind. I banished them all.


    With a cry, I hurled the brooch, the spiked end aimed straight at our enemy. A glinting blur was all I could see over the flash of blinding white mana.


    I exhaled deeply, most of my mana expelled in that single pulse of telekinesis. I had never tried to channel the area of my push to such a focused point before, and I was feeling the drain.


    I slumped against the brick wall as my vision cleared from the flash. I heard a flare of wind as Norgan skidded to my side. Did I get the woman with that brooch? Were we safe?


    When my vision finally cleared, what I saw caused my heart to sink. The brooch had embedded itself all the way into the woman¡¯s left shoulder, causing a small stream of blood to leak down her black clothes. Lightning crackled around the metal, clearly having pierced whatever electric defenses she had. The woman was looking at the brooch in shock, clearly in disbelief that I had managed to hurt her.


    But the strike was too high. If I had aimed a bit lower, it could have nailed her straight in the heart. The woman growled, glaring back at us. Slowly, she began to pull the brooch from her shoulder.


    Norgan rushed forward, refusing to allow the opening I had made to go to waste. He yelled, a strained, awkward thing with his crooked jaw, but it was full of desperation.


    The woman didn¡¯t let him.


    She ripped the spiked brooch out in one fluid motion, spraying blood across the ground. In a painfully smooth act, she withdrew the stiletto on her belt, and with speed beyond anything I had seen before, rammed it toward my brother¡¯s sternum. She was fast as lightning, but I could swear she moved as slow as water as she drove her blade into Norgan¡¯s chest.


    I shouted in anger and fear, stumbling over to my brother as he fell in slow motion. The fact that I was in the middle of a battle fled my mind amidst a rush of panic and horror.


    No, no no no. I fell to my knees by my brother, laying my hands over his chest wound and trying to staunch the bleeding. But it was so much. So much red. I couldn¡¯t stop it.


    It wouldn¡¯t STOP.


    Norgan coughed weakly, specks of blood flying from his dislocated jaw. His eyes were glassy and distant, overcome with fog I could not ward away. They cried out in silent terror of the growing dark.


    My experience as a healer was pushed to the forefront of my mind. I automatically analyzed the wound as I had a hundred others, but with an unfamiliar frantic fear. Sternum wound at the center of mass¨Ccertainly pierced the mana core. The wound went all the way through the body. Too much blood. Severed artery. Probably the thoracic aorta.


    It would be fatal.


    ¡°No, no no no,¡± I stuttered as red began to pool around me. So much red. ¡°Come on, Norgan! Come on! This wasn¡¯t how you were supposed to go,¡± I began to sob. Tears trickled from my eyes, subsumed by crimson as they struck my brother¡¯s chest. Norgan weakly raised a hand, his distant eyes focusing for the briefest of moments.


    He laid it on my shoulder, gripping it weakly.


    Then his arm fell and his breathing stopped.


    A void opened in my chest as I struggled to process what just happened. ¡°Norgan,¡± I said weakly, tears pattering his chest. ¡°Come on, brother,¡± I said. ¡°You can get up. Just like you always do. Come on,¡± I sobbed. The healer in me wailed in agony, the dual failure of saving my brother and failing a patient encompassing everything.


    A snort sounded from above me, but I couldn¡¯t pull my eyes away from my brother¡¯s body. ¡±To think, this was all it took to break you,¡± the woman muttered with disdain. ¡°You hurt me. You hurt the scion of Blood Joan. But killing you¡­¡±


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    I finally looked up at my brother¡¯s killer, still on my knees. She loomed over me like an aspect of death in her pitch-black clothing, casting a shadow across me as she blocked out the sun. A stream of blood leaked just above her heart, mocking me for how close I was. I couldn¡¯t even muster anger. I wasn¡¯t sure if I could feel right now.


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t kill you. That would be too easy.¡± The woman shifted her head. ¡°And it gives the brat time to hunt you down. To avenge his own loss in this slum,¡± she said bitterly, talking more to herself than me.


    I was akin to stone. If I stayed here, maybe the wind would weather me like a rock amidst a stream. I didn¡¯t feel like moving.


    ¡°You will die, peasant,¡± the woman said with a restrained chuckle. ¡°And you¡¯ll die in regret.¡±


    She walked past me to the fallen form of the teen.


    A minute passed by and I knew she was gone. I was alone with the body of Norgan, broken at the corpse of our first and last victory.


    ¡ª


    The guards finally reached the alley minutes later, but Norgan¡¯s corpse had already begun to cool. They led me to the Healer¡¯s Guild in solemn silence, a few of the guards carrying my brother¡¯s form in a shrouded bodybag. My feet were lead as we walked, each step requiring more energy than the last.


    When we reached the Healer¡¯s Guild, Greahd, the kindly receptionist that had always greeted my brother and me when we entered and helped me improve my mastery of the violin, watched with a shocked and horrified face as the bodybag was taken into the back of the hospital. I sat numbly for several hours in the lobby, Greahd¡¯s concerned attention making me hurt all the more.


    Couldn¡¯t she see the emptiness of her actions? I thought with rising anger. Nothing she does will bring Norgan back. It¡¯s all empty platitudes.If Duena had only run faster, the guards might have been there in time. If the Healer¡¯s Guild cared at all, their guards would¡¯ve been there to stop my brother¡¯s death.


    My suffering was interrupted when the tall Doctor Trelza came in from the back. He was a stern and harsh man, worn down from his decades-long work tending to the wounded and dying in the poorest district of Fiachra. Spotting me, he strode over purposefully.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± he said.


    I looked up at the man. ¡°Doctor Trelza,¡± I replied harshly. The Healer¡¯s Guild had failed me. We were so, so close to the Guild when we were attacked.


    And nobody came to help.


    Trelza tilted his head, unused to the bite in my words but looking unphased. ¡°I am required to give you this,¡± he said, handing me a letter. A stamp of winged basilisks wrapping around a staff kept the accursed envelope sealed.


    I knew what this was, even without opening it. It was mandatory for every lost life at the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. A letter to the deceased¡¯s next of kin, outlining legal requirements and options for burial, cremation, or something else.


    The paper seemed to burn my skin as I ripped it from Trelza, shoving the letter into my pocket. I glared at the doctor, who still stood over me.


    Norgan and I had worked with this man for nearly three years, assisting him in his operation of the Guild. We fetched bandages, tied off wounds, and tended to recovering patients. Our work was needed direly and paid well for how gruesome some of it was. And for this man to be handing me the letter declaring my brother dead? After all the times I watched him hand the letter to another family, watching them break down in grief?


    It wasn¡¯t fair. It was a betrayal; something that should have never happened.


    ¡°Do you enjoy this?¡± I hissed, glaring at the man. He rarely displayed any sort of emotion, staying stern and focused on his profession. Even as he watched families break apart from loss, he gazed on with apathy. I thought this was because he was masking himself from the pain. But in my anger, I knew differently. ¡°Watching people break when their loved ones die? Watching them suffer?¡±


    Trelza¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change at all.


    ¡°Is that why you deliver these fucking letters? To watch people fall apart?¡± I yelled, drawing the eyes of Greahd and a few other healers. ¡°You always do this. Always write that letter! Stamp that Vritra-forsaken seal!¡±


    I didn¡¯t remember standing, but now I was chest-to-chest with Trelza, glaring at him from less than a foot away.


    Through my unending tirade, Trelza remained silent. It only fueled my anger further.


    How dare he look at me, I thought with burning rage. How dare he stand before me when I¡¯m alive and my brother is dead! How dare he give me this fucking letter! How dare he stay silent!


    My yelling finally grew hoarse as my throat gave out. Still, Trelza continued to stare me down.


    ¡°Well?¡± I finally spat. ¡°Do you have no defense?¡±


    Trelza regarded me for a long minute, meeting my red-rimmed eyes. ¡°I write those letters because I am the only one who can, Daen,¡± he said with a disturbingly monotone voice. ¡°I stamp that seal because nobody else should. I deliver them because, when people grieve,¡± he continued, a note of something I couldn¡¯t distinguish entering his voice, ¡°They need somebody to hate.¡±


    I flinched back as if struck. The doctor waited a moment. ¡°Every single healer gives everything they can in their work here.¡± Trelza looked past me. ¡°But sometimes we fail. Sometimes we aren¡¯t fast enough.¡± The doctor met my broken expression once more. ¡°So I give them somebody to blame. Somebody they can tell themselves failed, instead of the good people of the Guild.¡±


    I slumped back into my chair, his words ripping the anger from my sails. In its place was a hollowness that grasped and clawed at my every thought.


    ¡°You are not wrong to be angry,¡± Trelza said in his distinctive monotone, a strange attempt at consolation.


    I wept for hours more, curled up on the lobby seats of the Healer¡¯s Guild. I sobbed long after Trelza was forced to return to his duties as a healer, tending to people who were still able to be saved.


    Norgan was gone, taken from me by Blood Joan. Couldn¡¯t they have just left us alone? Gone on their merry way?


    Within the storm of my mind, I hated Duena. If she hadn¡¯t been visible, Norgan wouldn¡¯t have rushed to save her. If Norgan hadn¡¯t tried to save her, my brother wouldn¡¯t have been killed.


    I hated the Healer¡¯s Guild. They should¡¯ve been able to do something. To help somehow. I knew that a body could be resuscitated several minutes after death sometimes. That the healers couldn¡¯t do that, even when my brother was long dead, caused my gut to churn in anguish.


    I hated the guards, who couldn¡¯t police this city worth a damn. The poverty, the crime, and the lawlessness that happened in East Fiachra could so easily be stamped out if they only cared.


    But above all else, I hated Blood Joan. They had killed off the remnants of my family decades ago, but I hadn¡¯t known them. I had no emotional connection to people long dead and far removed. But then they had tried to unwittingly finish the job.


    And from what that murderer had said, that little fire-cloaked brat would try and kill me later. To mend his wounded pride.


    I slowly got to my feet, wiping away a trail of tears.


    I won¡¯t let them have the pleasure of killing me, I thought with growing anger. I won¡¯t let them recover their pride. They won¡¯t get to.


    I stalked out of the Healer¡¯s Guild, ignoring Greahd¡¯s worried shouts. Blood Joan wouldn¡¯t get to finish the job. I would make sure of that.

 Chapter 10: Training

    Toren Daen


    I pulled myself shakily from the floor where I had collapsed, the lingering aftereffects of the dream a burning coil of emotion in my core.


    I carefully settled my emotions, the recurring image of Norgan¡¯s death replaying painfully in my head. I wasn¡¯t just Toren, and I wasn¡¯t just me. I was something in-between; something else. Though I was more Earthen than Alacryan in spirit, what tied each half together was the pain we felt watching Norgan die.


    I didn¡¯t know why the death of Toren¡¯s brother hurt the side of ¡®me¡¯ from Earth so much. Norgan was practically identical to my previous life¡¯s brother in physical appearance, true, but otherwise, there was no relation. But something compelled both my halves towards utter anger. And with our new resources, exacting real vengeance should be possible.


    I slowly went back over the events of last afternoon in my mind, shivering at the recollection of Lady Dawn¡¯s King¡¯s Force¨Ckilling intent, whatever it was called¨Cpressing into my body.


    At least my ribs and forearm were whole now, my healing factor finally mending my body. Though after a quick removal of my bandages, I noticed a nasty scar stretched where my forearm wound used to be.


    But another difference in my body was immediately noticeable. A tattoo of red chains coiled around and up my right arm like a serpent, crossing my shoulder and ending over my sternum.


    I suppressed a gulp at witnessing the chains. I had likened the contract I would be taking earlier to a prison. It seemed I wasn¡¯t far off, but it was a chain I had agreed to leash myself with.


    Glancing inward at my core, I noticed an immediate difference: I had advanced to the light orange stage of core development, granting a decent boost in mana reserves and purity. Small yellow runes now scrawled across its surface, glowing like coals and pulsing in rhythm with my heart.


    I could also feel something¨Csomeone¨Cpressing against my mind. It was a strange sensation, almost like an innate sense that I wasn¡¯t alone.


    Lady Dawn? I thought across the tether, probing uncertainly.


    I got no response.


    ¡°Lady Dawn?¡± I tried aloud, a bit worried. I needn¡¯t be, though, because my vision was awash with a familiar dark atmosphere with mist edging around the corners of my sight.


    I was going to need to call this vision something. Maybe the Unseen? A bit on the nose perhaps, but the similarities were obvious.


    I flinched slightly under Lady Dawn¡¯s gaze, the lingering touch of her King¡¯s Force burned into my mind. I forcefully suppressed what was definitely a very traumatic experience and forged ahead.


    I nodded politely. ¡°Thank you for trusting me,¡± I said earnestly, moving to a more comfortable position. ¡°I, um¡­ I¡¯m going to buy some food, then search for a proper weapon.¡± I shifted under her sun-like gaze, then ironed my resolve. ¡°After that, I¡¯ll go back to the forest,¡± I bit out. I really didn¡¯t want to go back to the forest south of Fiachra, but it was the only place nearby besides the Relictombs¨CFiachra did have an Ascension Portal, but I was far from powerful enough to be an ascender¨Cwhere mana beasts were abundant. Furthermore, it would provide me some much-needed privacy to train my abilities, whatever they would be.


    Even if my near-death experiences there were of nothing but pain.


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°And why, Contractor, have you called to tell me this?¡±


    I hesitated, asking myself inwardly that exact question. ¡°Because if we¡¯re going to work together to get me more powerful, it doesn¡¯t seem fair to leave you out of the loop of my plans,¡± I said slowly. I really did not want to piss the phoenix off again. Catching her off guard so thoroughly yesterday had backfired miserably. And I hoped our relationship could shift to one of mutual benefit. The first step towards that was honesty.


    Lady Dawn hummed. ¡°Very well,¡± she replied. ¡°And once you are within the depths of this forest, I will lend my aid in your training,¡± she said, looking me up and down. ¡°You are pitiful as you are, Contractor.¡±


    I winced but didn¡¯t deny the phoenix¡¯s statement. I hadn¡¯t dared to hope that she would help me: the woman had been pretty hands-off with my new life so far. But being trained by an asura could go a long way in helping me improve as a warrior, as that was what I would have to be.


    A familiar anger began to rise in my stomach as I remembered why I had bargained with the phoenix in the first place. Blood Joan had eradicated the remnants of Toren¡¯s family, and decades later kicked their fallen foes while they were in their darkest days. Like a child breaking his toys because they weren¡¯t ¡®fun¡¯ anymore. The recent dream had brought those emotions back to the forefront painfully.


    I exhaled slowly, envisioning my anger leaving with that breath. It helped somewhat; brought me back to a more stable state of mind. Lady Dawn lingered, sensing that I had more questions. ¡°Why do you not communicate over our mental tether?¡± I asked, sensing the bond I shared with the phoenix. But all I could feel in my mind was that the bond existed: no emotions or thoughts traveled over. ¡°It seems really convenient. I¡¯ve never had any sort of telepathy before.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s face darkened perceptibly. ¡°I will not touch your mind, nor any others,¡± she said with iron. ¡°No matter the benefits.¡±


    I opened my mouth, then closed it. Lady Dawn had expressed hatred of mind-altering mana arts. I could guess why: Agrona¡¯s tried and true tactic of warping people¡¯s minds with his runes and magic made me shiver to read. But that was when this was all fiction. Now, in reality?


    What had this woman experienced? I knew she had been imprisoned by Agrona an unknown number of years before the main story of The Beginning After the End began. And now that Toren¡¯s memories had merged with my own, practically everything I knew about Alacrya from the novels lined up with what Toren had experienced.


    Except for the existence of Lady Dawn. I didn¡¯t know what she had been through; not exactly. But it was certainly hell.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said softly. Then another thought crossed my mind; something I was hesitant to ask. But needed to, desperately. Everything I had known had been ripped from me; everything I thought to be truth flipped on its head. And it all centered around one fundamental question. I rolled my tongue around in my mouth, anxiety building. I tapped my fingers on my leg. ¡°I need to know,¡± I said, pushing out the words that burned as I spoke them. ¡°How am I in this world? What brought me here?¡± S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When I met the phoenix¡¯s eyes, I was surprised that I was able to read them. For all that they were blazing pits of fire, I could decipher her expression changing; the twin suns warning me of the answer. They were reluctant to give it, for a reason I couldn¡¯t understand.


    Fear pooled in my gut then. I had asked the question on the spur of the moment, without thought or contemplation. I wasn¡¯t afraid of not getting an answer. No, I realized. I suspected parts of the answer. I was afraid to get it; to have my inklings of suspicion confirmed.


    Lady Dawn was silent for a long, long moment. ¡°Why, Contractor, do you know so much of this world and its future?¡± she said in turn, an answer unto itself. Her eyes of inferno seemed to dim under the weight of knowledge.


    I clenched my eyes shut, my anxiety ratcheting up several notches. Lady Dawn didn¡¯t expect me to answer that question, but it had implications. Whatever brought me to this world would have an answer equal in weight to how I knew of this world''s impending wars and crises.


    I feared that answer more than ever before.


    ¡ª


    I walked into the weapons shop feeling more than a little nervous. I was in West Fiachra now, the middle-class district. My clothes were clean, but they were still of noticeably lower quality than the average pedestrian. Standing out so blatantly unnerved me: Norgan¡¯s murderer had promised that the masked brat would exact retribution on me soon.


    I didn¡¯t doubt he would try.


    The weapon shop was a nicer one, as I didn¡¯t want to skimp on what would be my main line of defense. As I surveyed the shop, I noticed the increased mana concentration in the area. Several other customers perused the wares: from framed maces that glowed with fire to axes that shined a yellowish-brown that I associated with earth mana. But I ignored these expensive showpieces, mostly because they were outside of my budget.


    Near the back of the store, they held their more conventional weapons. Simple steel or mana beast material was the norm here, but they were of good quality. I was surprised so many types of weapons existed, to be honest. I saw a boomerang with sharpened edges. Then there was a flail that, instead of a spiked ball on the end, had an axe head.


    How the hell did that work?


    Either way, I quickly found my way to the section I wanted: the daggers.


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    I was a bit of a sword aficionado in my previous life on Earth. But cross-referencing Toren¡¯s previous experience, the fighting style he planned to use to support his brother and the well-oiled techniques he and Norgan used to work together, I knew what was best.


    I saw a dozen different types of daggers on display: karambits, katars, dirks, and more.


    I was looking over the store¡¯s selection of stilettos¡ªa kind of knife that was designed with the primary purpose of stabbing-¨Cwhen I began to ponder what my current strengths and weaknesses were.


    I could push or pull with my telekinesis crest, but if I wanted to work that into whatever dagger style I used, I needed a blade designed to cut, not just thrust.


    The selection of double-edged daggers was surprising. I surveyed my options carefully, before finally arriving at one. As I remembered how that brooch had stabbed into Norgan¡¯s wielder, a grin stretched across my lips. For all that a slashing blade would best fit my planned fighting style, I would damn well like to stab that woman again.


    A relatively long, double-edged weapon was displayed before me. The blade was entirely straight, tapering off to a wicked point about a foot from the hilt. The hardened steel flashed in the glow cast by the nearby lighting artifacts, promising deadly precision. It had a knuckle guard with small spikes, creating a nice dagger-knuckle duster fusion.


    It would be perfect.


    I couldn¡¯t take it off the shelf as it was locked behind a near-translucent mana barrier. It had an item number that I quickly memorized. I assumed an employee would deactivate the protective seal once I purchased it.


    Strolling to the counter, I greeted the clerk. ¡°Hey,¡± I said with suppressed excitement. ¡°I¡¯ve got a weapon I want to buy, but it''s locked behind a barrier.¡±


    The clerk, a young woman, nodded. ¡°Ah, no problem, sir!¡± she said hastily. ¡°If you know the item number, we can get that unlocked and purchased so you can be on your way,¡± she said, smiling sweetly.


    I rattled off the number, watching as the woman tapped in the numbers on a keypad formed of solid mana. Then she held out a strange device to me. It looked like a transparent sphere with several wires attached, stretching to whatever device she was using.


    Confused, I took the artifact. ¡°Uh,¡± I said a bit stupidly. ¡°Is there anything I need to use this for?¡±


    The clerk, who had looked back to her device, turned to me with obvious surprise. ¡°Oh, just infuse it with your mana. That will unlock the barrier for a moment,¡± she said.


    ¡°Ah, okay,¡± I said a bit awkwardly, infusing the sphere with a touch of my mana. It began to become more and more translucent, losing its near glass-like transparency. When I felt the device stop accepting my energy, I withdrew my hand. Soon after, another employee of the store brought the dagger to the counter.


    The price was far less than I expected to pay, likely because it was such a relatively small weapon. I left content.


    ¡ª


    I had a lot more money left over than I expected, which I wisely returned to my stash hidden under the floorboards. If I were right, I would need it pretty soon. When I finally reached the south gate, it was already early afternoon. I would only have a few hours to practice by the looks of it.


    With a nod to the guard, I set out toward the forest. I was prepared this time, as prepared as I could be. I had a sling bag that I wore on my back which contained a filled waterskin, a few provisions, and first aid tools. On my belt was my new dagger: snug on my waist and deadly sharp for combat.


    It took about ten minutes of intermittent mana-enhanced jogging to reach the forest, which I now guessed was a little over two miles from Fiachra. I was slightly winded when I reached the edge, but far and beyond better than my previous life in terms of cardio.


    Mana really helped in that sense.


    I took a swig from my waterskin before returning it to my bag. I scouted the treeline carefully, painfully remembering my last encounter with that whiptail mana beast. I now knew it to be a barkskin grohd, one variant of many of the lizard-like creatures that spanned Alacrya.


    Feeling the coast was clear-¨Cor at least knowing that if it wasn¡¯t, I would have no way to tell¡ªI entered the forest. My hands clenched unconsciously, remembering in vivid detail how I had nearly died again several times in this accursed forest. But I had work to do.


    For Norgan.


    I walked for several minutes, luckily seeing neither hide nor hair of any mana beasts amidst the towering autumn leaves. With Toren¡¯s memories, I knew they were a type of famous tree called the clarwood. The tree wove mana into its structure somehow, allowing epic proportions. Not quite as tall as the trees in the Elshire forest, I presumed, but still impressive. These trees, combined with the mighty Sehz river which bordered the forest, contributed to the naming of the southernmost Dominion.


    ¡°Lady Dawn?¡± I asked aloud once I was amidst a small clearing, allowing tiny rays of light through the distant canopy.


    The Unseen washed over my vision, changing to familiar dark hues. Lady Dawn was surveying the area I had chosen with a stern expression, but I didn¡¯t notice outright disapproval. She turned back to me. ¡°You beckoned, Contractor?¡±


    ¡°I need to ask,¡± I said, ¡°What exactly I¡¯ve gained from our Contract.¡± I paused. ¡°I¡¯ve got ideas for how I want to train, but I don¡¯t know what I have to work with.¡±


    Lady Dawn looked at my sternum, her eyes burning a path to my core. ¡°I am your Bond and Will,¡± she said. ¡°Though I doubt you understand the weight of those words.¡±


    I looked at my hands. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I do,¡± I said quietly. Sylvia¡¯s Will enabled Arthur to separate himself from the flow of time and tap into a form of insight that led toward manipulation of the foundations of reality itself. The power of an Asura was not to be trifled with.


    But then I thought of the Bond. I remembered descriptions from The Beginning After the End about how deep and personal a Bond was. It was something that ran thicker than water; thicker than blood.


    The connection was soul-deep, I was sure. And the implications of that unnerved me. I didn¡¯t even have a point of reference to begin to understand what I now held.


    ¡°You will learn,¡± Lady Dawn said, brushing my concerns aside. ¡°What have you called me for?¡±


    I shook my head, recentering myself. ¡°I¡¯m planning to train here every day I can for as long as I can,¡± I said without preamble. I hesitated, still somewhat uncomfortable in Lady Dawn¡¯s presence, before continuing. ¡°I wanted to work through some sort of dagger form, hand-to-hand combat training, and then refining my use of telekinesis. Is there anything you think I should change?¡± I asked.


    Lady Dawn cocked her head. ¡°Yes. You forgot the most important thing, Contractor.¡±


    ¡°What did I miss?¡±


    ¡°You wield mana as the Dicathians do,¡± Lady Dawn said coolly. ¡°If you are to reach the apex of your strength, you cannot afford to forget these parts of your repertoire.¡±


    I blinked, startled that I had actually forgotten about that. When Lady Dawn helped me circulate mana through my mana channels, it had forcefully broken whatever sort of seal Agrona used within spellforms to limit Dicathian mana arts. ¡°Oh, I actually did forget that,¡± I said, embarrassed. I furrowed my brow. ¡°I would be a conjurer by Dicathian standards, I think.¡±


    Lady Dawn nodded. ¡°You would be. And you are lucky to have me, Contractor. As I touched your mana before, I know your elemental affinities.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°Affinities?¡± I asked, catching the phrase. ¡°Plural?¡±


    ¡°You possess a dual affinity for sound and fire,¡± the ghostly phoenix said, a phantom breeze rustling her feather-red hair. ¡°This is fortunate, as I am especially proficient in these elements.¡±


    I looked down at my hands, flexing them lightly. I knew the theory behind conjuring spells: in lower core levels, you would actively draw in mana from the outside world, purify it, then use that mana to cast a spell. As the core began to purify and grow, however, the step of taking in ambient mana for each and every spell was less and less necessary, as the required amount to cast a spell was already stored within the mana core.


    Lady Dawn waited for me to finish reflecting. ¡±Tell me what you know of mana manipulation, Contractor.¡±


    I put a hand to my chin, thinking over all that had been revealed within The Beginning After the End. I essentially had hearsay and writing, not direct understanding. I was under no illusions that the words on a page would translate perfectly to skill, but they were worth a great deal.


    ¡°Dicathian magic consists of two major categories,¡± I said. ¡°Augmenters and conjurers. Augmenters focus on strengthening their bodies, and conjurers funnel mana in the atmosphere into their core to use to cast a spell into the world,¡± I continued. ¡°This distinction lessens as a mage¡¯s core purifies, but a conjurer¡¯s prominent mana veins allow faster purification of the mana core.¡± I snapped my fingers, remembering something important. ¡°Oh, and the levels of core go from black, red, orange, yellow, silver, then white. Each of these¨Cexcept white¨Chas a dark, solid, then light sublevel.¡° I looked at Lady Dawn. ¡°After that is the Integration stage.¡±


    Lady Dawn paused at my mention of Integration, but then gestured for me to continue with a wave of her hand. ¡°There are four basic elemental affinities and mana aspects respectively. Fire, water, earth, and wind. There are also deviant forms of these four: lightning, ice, gravity, and sound,¡± I continued. ¡°A mage¡¯s core stores purified, unaspected mana. When a mage uses this mana, they can change it to any of the elemental types, but their own affinities are easier.¡±


    Lady Dawn nodded, her blazing eyes brightening for a split moment. ¡°That is correct. The precedent for any practice is theory. So you must try to cast a spell. Any spell.¡±


    Taking Lady Dawn¡¯s instruction, I looked inwards once more, observing my light orange core. Already it was slowly progressing toward the dark yellow stage due to the ever-present deluge of mana from the phoenix feather, but it was a ways off. I pulled a sliver of mana from my core, willing it to my hand. I watched as it pooled above my open palm, invisible to the naked eye but with a light glowy feeling to my mana senses. It was warm, and I immediately recognized it had changed to be fire mana. Exactly as I intended, though I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how.


    I looked up to Lady Dawn, silently inquiring if I was on the right track. Considering she didn¡¯t call me out, I figured I hadn¡¯t messed up yet. Turning back to my task, I tried to push¡­ intent, for lack of a better word, into the sliver of mana above my palm. I wanted it to become a small bead of fire. ¡°Fireball,¡± I whispered, trying to project the image I wanted onto the mystical energy.


    I was disappointed when the mana puffed up on the wind, misting outwards as if blown away.


    ¡°Damn,¡± I huffed, sensing the mana disperse. I glanced back at Lady Dawn, who was still watching me expectantly. With a renewed determination, I pulled more mana from my core, the energy shifting to fire mana once more. I again tried to push intent through the mana, but the result was the same.


    ¡°Your visualization is poor,¡± I heard the phoenix say. I looked up at her, furrowing my brow in slight confusion. I knew visualization was important for casting spells, and saying a chant helped the caster better form their intent into an effect. ¡°You must not only define the element of your spell, but its direction, speed, size, power, and more. Every variable must be accounted for, which strains the mind.¡±


    I thought about her words, but then my train of thought caught on a few specific words. I zoned out slightly, Lady Dawn¡¯s words ringing like a gong in my head. The phrases ¡®define¡¯ and ¡®variable¡¯ swam around alluringly, ideas building in my mind.


    A grin stretched across my face. I thought I had a good idea of how I was going to cast a spell now.

 Chapter 11: Object-Oriented Spellcasting

    Toren Daen


    I drew another sliver of mana from my core, ideas welling in my head. Lady Dawn had mentioned how a mage would visualize a spell, but her words struck a sympathetic note in my mind.


    I had to work to my strengths in this world. In my previous life, I was a rather proficient computer programmer, and was on a career track for coding. And one of the common models for coding languages was being ¡®object-oriented.¡¯ In effect, it made the creation of duplicate objects or entities in programs easier by making a sort of template. All a programmer needed to do was make a ¡®constructor¡¯ that defined core variables, and they had an entirely new object from this template.


    If I could visualize my spell the same way, with different variables for each part of the spell, like speed, direction, magnitude, etcetera¡­


    I imagined a template for a fireball, an imaginary Java class file appearing in my mind. I was certain if there were any programmers from my previous life watching me, they¡¯d surrender me to the High Sovereign immediately for using Java instead of something like Python or C++. Regardless, all I had to do was input the needed variables¡­


    I opened my eyes and laughed in delight. Hovering over my palm was a small orb of fire the size of a marble. It wasn¡¯t too hot: more of a comforting warmth, something I had tried to define with my spellcasting model. It danced above my palm, not burning me. I knew it wouldn¡¯t: a mage couldn¡¯t easily be hurt by their own spell. My attention wavered, however, causing the small bead of heat to vanish.


    I looked back at Lady Dawn with a grin stretching across my face. I had succeeded in something entirely otherworldly. My Toren side wasn¡¯t that impressed: magic was a common staple for him. But the ¡®me¡¯ from earth was utterly fascinated by what I had just done. Magic!


    My smile slipped slightly as I noticed Lady Dawn¡¯s stern expression. It occurred to me just then that what might be impressive for me was quite small on an asuran scale.


    I coughed in embarrassment.


    ¡°Impressive for your third time attempting to cast a spell,¡± Lady Dawn acknowledged, but when delivered with her normal dismissive tone felt somewhat empty. ¡°Continue to practice and experiment for a while,¡± she said. ¡°Accustom yourself to your mana. Refine it.¡± sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I opened my mouth to reply. When would we be doing physical training? Or honing my skill with the dagger? Toren had some minor skill in hand-to-hand combat and small weapons. Most Alacryans had a measure of skill with weapons regardless of their status. But I held my tongue. Lady Dawn was my teacher here; it was wise to do as she said.


    I set to work, testing and trying my limits.


    ¡ª


    I lost track of time as I messed with my magic. I ¡®stored¡¯ templates in my memory as I made them: one for a simple fireball, another for a kind of ¡®sound grenade¡¯ spell that produced a loud bang when a sphere of thrown sound mana detonated.


    As I cast my magic more, I also noticed that it became easier to ¡®input values into variables,¡¯ so to speak. The more I cast my fireball spell, the easier it became to do so. Every time I created a small, condensed ball of sound, my mana seemed to respond better than before.


    I waved my hand, the motion helping me visualize my spell all the easier. It wasn¡¯t necessary: I could technically pull mana from any point in my body and use it to cast a spell, but we humans always used our arms for everything anyway. A fireball coalesced in the air after a split second, a foot in diameter. Unlike my first success, this one burned hot and glowed with heat. It cast an orange glow across the dead leaves of the forest floor amidst the late afternoon gloom.


    With a mental nudge, the fireball rocketed off towards my target: a rather tall boulder that stretched from the earth. It collided with the boulder in a small explosion of fire, blowing away a few chips of stone. What part of the stone hadn¡¯t been damaged was scorched black, covering previous soot marks.


    Switching tracks, I focused on my sound grenade spell, a condensed sphere of rippling sound mana growing in my palm. After a second, I lobbed the spell overhand toward the same rock. I strengthened my ears with mana, preparing for impact. Once the spell struck the stone, it detonated with a sound like a gong, rippling the nearby foliage and causing it to vibrate.


    I exhaled, a slight smile on my face. I had made remarkable progress in my first few hours and was feeling a bit tired. My core wasn¡¯t depleted much; only by about a quarter. And it was regenerating rapidly, even as I used it. I had the red feather in my core to thank for that.


    I worked my shoulders, preparing to head out of the forest. It was going to be dark soon, and if I wanted a solid night¡¯s sleep, I would have to head back now. I would return early the next day, of course.


    I took a few steps towards the exit of the forest before the Unseen World masked my vision. Lady Dawn watched me sternly, her orange sundress muted in the darkening afternoon.


    ¡°What do you think you are doing, Contractor?¡± she said with iron.


    ¡°I was going to head back to the city,¡± I replied with confusion. ¡°It''s almost dark out, and if I want to get a good night¡¯s sleep and avoid death by mana beast, I¡¯ll have to head out now.¡±


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°Do you want to grow more powerful, Contractor?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I replied uncertainly. I felt like I was about to step into a trap, the hook wrapped just around my foot now.


    ¡°Then you will stay in this forest for the night,¡± Lady Dawn said with finality. ¡°I have yet to instruct you on knife and close-quarters combat forms. This day is not yet done. And you will need all the time you can spare to complete your goals,¡± she finished.


    I furrowed my brow, looking past the phoenix to the glow of the city in the distance. It was warm and inviting compared to the looming unknowns of the forest. But Lady Dawn was right: if I wanted any chance to kill a Scythe, even the weakest of them, I couldn¡¯t spare a moment.


    I sighed, closing my eyes to center myself. I really did not like this forest, and I would probably like it less at night. It had many mana beasts, and I was honestly surprised none had tried to ambush me during my training so far.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said with slight resignation, turning away from the homely glow of Fiachra in the distance. ¡°What will I need to do next?¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s glowing eyes dimmed slightly. ¡°I shall instruct you on combat form,¡± she said. ¡°Afterward? We shall see how competent you are,¡± she said with finality.


    I gulped, remembering the barkskin grohd that had nearly killed me last time. I was far better prepared now, though. I closed my eyes, settling myself. Then, I strode back into the forest.


    ¡ª


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Lady Dawn began my teaching differently than I expected.


    ¡°You will only train your footwork and balance today,¡± she said, watching my face morphing into confusion with her fire-eyes. ¡°It is the most important foundation for a beginner.¡±


    The clearing we were in was deeper into the forest than before, and I was already on edge about mana beasts. Also, when the Unseen World of darkness clouded my vision, my senses were more muted. I wouldn¡¯t be able to sense things coming as easily as otherwise.


    ¡°May I ask how it is important?¡± I hedged. I wanted to know the whys behind my training. That made it easier for me to ingrain into my subconscious; a tactic I had used extensively to memorize information in my previous life.


    ¡°Footwork and balance are the largest commonalities across all fighting arts,¡± Lady Dawn replied. ¡°It matters not how well one can swing a sword if they falter once the enemy gets close. And similarly, it matters not how proficient your footwork may be if your recovery from being tripped or pushed is unsatisfactory.¡±


    I nodded slowly, seeing her point. Furthermore, practically every single injury I received in this forest was due to poor mobility. I had been tackled by a skaunter¨Cone of those rat-lizard creatures¨Cand thrown to the ground, allowing it to rip into my arm. If I had better reflexes, I could have avoided being so easily cast down. And with my weaker mana shroud from being an innate conjurer, avoiding enemies was the name of the game instead of outright defense.


    ¡°To train my balance, will I just continue to parkour around these trees with my telekinesis?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Partially,¡± Lady Dawn replied, not explaining further. ¡°Come. I will go through the motions of footwork, and you shall repeat them.¡±


    I nodded. I watched Lady Dawn as she drifted across the ground. She never crossed her feet, and when she sped up she moved her legs in more complicated motions to compensate. She sometimes shifted to a wider stance, sometimes more narrow, but never did she move a step out of place. There was an obvious grace of practice to her movements, one that left me in silent awe.


    I knew basic boxing footwork from my previous life and the standard footwork drills, but what Lady Dawn was doing seemed leaps and bounds beyond that. After a few seconds of contemplation, I realized that it was likely designed for the hyperspeed of augmenter combat. When mages could move as fast as a train, their combat styles would need to change to compensate.


    Eventually, Lady Dawn began to move fast enough that I needed to strengthen my eyes with mana to keep track of her. Her steps became more complicated, and I struggled to memorize all she was doing. With her speed, she should have been kicking up leaves and dirt, leaving furrows in the earth, but nothing on the forest floor was disturbed.


    Then she stopped, coming to a smooth halt in her original position. ¡°Match those movements,¡± she said, staring a hole through me. ¡°I will correct you as you follow through the steps.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I replied nervously, struggling to remember all I saw. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need help with this, I think,¡± I said, settling into the stance I saw Lady Dawn take.


    I felt warm hands on my shoulders, adjusting my form with gentle force. I shuddered involuntarily: Lady Dawn had moved behind me somehow, faster than I could see. ¡°Relax, Contractor,¡± she said. ¡°A looser stance is required for increased mobility. Do not tense your shoulders.¡±


    I exhaled, forcefully un-tensing my shoulders. I began to step through the motions, being corrected every so often by a stern Lady Dawn. As the minutes dragged by and I began to iron the motions into my muscle memory, I began to speed up, using the reinforcement I got from mana to augment my speed.


    I almost immediately tripped over my own legs, eating dirt in an embarrassing faceplant. I turned over, staring up at the darkening sky. It was late evening now: dusk was approaching. That meant mana beasts. It felt like I couldn¡¯t improve fast enough.


    ¡°Do not be discouraged,¡± Lady Dawn said over me, blocking out the sky. ¡°Failure is to be expected. You will succeed in time.¡±


    I groaned, closing my eyes. The phoenix was trying to be encouraging, I knew. But the way she said it hurt. Like she expected me to fail innately.


    I pulled myself to my feet, dusting off the front of my shirt and wiping away the dirt I could. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said somewhat half-heartedly. What I was learning would be just like any other skill. With practice came mastery.


    It was about an hour before Lady Dawn finally called a halt to our training. For the last thirty minutes or so, I had been instructed to weave through the surrounding trees, always keeping a specific one facing me. It was a practical application of footwork, and I had quickly learned not to cross my feet as I circled each tree, spinning and whipping about at slightly-enhanced speeds. I had tripped doing that once and had rammed my shoulder painfully into the bark of an oversized clarwood tree. Luckily, I hadn¡¯t dislocated it this time, but it would certainly bruise.


    It was well and truly dark now, and I relied heavily on mana-strengthened sight to avoid anything in my path. It added an aura of fear to everything I was doing. I couldn¡¯t see nearly as well as in the daylight, even with mana enhancing my eyesight. And as the sun set, the growls and calls of different mana beasts began to ring throughout the canopied forest, sending chills down my spine.


    I still wasn¡¯t that deep within the forest, only about a ten-minute jog from the exit. I was itching to just up and leave, but the expectations Lady Dawn placed on me weighed heavily on my shoulders. If I left, I doubted she would teach me again.


    I was sweating heavily, my clothes soaked through. I took a swig from my waterskin, which was now nearly empty. I groaned in irritation: I would have to get more somewhere.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision once more, revealing an unphased Lady Dawn. She was near a towering clarwood tree but wasn¡¯t leaning on it. That was something I had learned about Lady Dawn: she never, ever relaxed. And unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t allowed to, either. At least she hadn¡¯t made me train with the disorienting darkness of the Unseen World smothering my vision and senses.


    ¡°It seems it is time for our regimen to change,¡± the phoenix said, observing me as I heaved for breath. ¡°You have trained your footwork well so far. Now, it is time for balance.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I said between breaths. ¡°Just- just gimme a minute,¡± I said. My legs ached already, each movement sending a fresh wave of burning exhaustion through my limbs. And I was very, very hungry. I hadn¡¯t had much to eat yesterday or today, something that was the norm for Toren. But Toren also didn¡¯t exercise this much.


    When I had gathered myself, the Unseen World vanished from my vision. With a bit of renewed vigor, I gathered mana in my legs and leaped into the trees, using a pull of telekinesis to help me along. I alighted on one of the lowest branches, holding my arm to the trunk for balance. As I surveyed the trees laying before me, I realized that even with mana strengthening my eyes I struggled to see in the dark.


    That meant if I wanted to get the most out of this, I would need to summon light to guide me.


    But that would draw mana beasts.


    Lady Dawn undoubtedly knew that. In fact, I was willing to bet she was counting on it. I sighed, then closed my eyes. I didn¡¯t have a template for creating a small will-o¡¯-wisp of flame, but I didn¡¯t need one for this spell. As it wasn¡¯t for combat, I could afford to take a few seconds to summon it.


    A few small orbs of fire appeared around me, casting light in a small radius. They were unnaturally cool for flame, and I suspected no fire burned this cold. Thankfully, mana made physics optional. I could see further now, but I was also a beacon to anything in this forest. I would have to keep moving.


    I leaped to a nearby branch, using a pull of telekinesis to adjust my path midair. I landed with a light wobble, then peered around for my next branch. I was heading south intentionally: after all, a stream was in that direction somewhere.


    The shade of night and a few hovering marbles of fire were my only companions as I darted through the night, hopping from branch to branch. My legs still burned from use, but the intermittent leaps and gaps between them allowed me to recover somewhat. My footing became more sure as I navigated southward at a surprising speed, getting into a natural rhythm.


    After about ten minutes, I could finally hear the stream nearby. It gurgled to my enhanced ears, an enticing reward for such a long trek. I landed on a branch, and as I took a bare second to find another branch, my senses screamed at me to move.


    The feeling was like I was being watched, but heightened to eleven. It caused my heart to jump in my throat, and I made a split-second decision. I jumped to a different branch yanking my hand down, an accompanying white pulse of telekinesis pulling me to the next foothold a bit higher in the air.


    And not a moment too soon: something flashed to the branch I was at before. Peering back, I could spy an old enemy. I could barely see the thing in the dark, its bark-textured skin blending near perfectly with the tree it lounged against. Only the orange spines, usually helpful for blending into the canopy above, allowed me to clearly spy on the creature. A long, whiplike tail wrapped around the tree, anchoring the four-legged lizard to the clarwood.


    And beady eyes filled with hunger watched me as we squared off in the treetops. A barkskin grohd once again tried to make me its meal.

 Chapter 12: Budget Bushcraft

    Toren Daen


    The grohd opened its mouth, a familiar swirl of green wind growing in its throat. I leapt to another branch hastily, stumbling as I righted myself. Behind me, the branch I had been on was obliterated by a sphere of compressed air. I could hear the wood crack and shatter, sending splinters flying in every direction. I retaliated with my pulse pounding in my ears, quickly summoning a fireball the size of my fist before my hand.


    It rocketed towards the lizard, who was still latched onto the tree with its tail wrapped around the trunk. It opened its mouth once more, another ball of wind rocketing toward my spell. They collided midair in a burst of heat and light, covering my vision.


    My senses screamed at me again, but I didn¡¯t have time to locate another branch. I leaped anyway, dropping the twenty or so feet to the ground and rolling fitfully. Thankfully, my mana shroud didn¡¯t shatter this time, but my will-o¡¯-wisp spell winked out as my concentration failed for a moment, leaving me to scramble to my feet in the dark wildly. I hastily recast the light spell, only to be greeted by an even worse situation.


    Another grohd was latched onto the branch I had escaped from, and now both of the creatures watched me from above with predatory eyes.


    I couldn¡¯t let them snipe me from above. I considered booking it to the stream, where the terrain was flat and the monsters would be forced to fight me on the ground.


    That would be smarter. But the entire point I had entered this forest was to grow and test myself against things that would be immensely difficult otherwise. I needed to face these beasts head-on, in their own environment and beat them. And I was confident I could do it.


    The beast closest to me opened its mouth, the orange spines on its back beginning to glow slightly. Undaunted, I thrust my hand into my pouch, retrieving a handful of stones. The other grohd skittered up the tree, momentarily out of my sight.


    A sphere of wind thundered towards me, surprisingly quiet for the power I knew was in it. I gathered mana in my legs, heightening the strengthening more before weaving around the oncoming projectile, Lady Dawn¡¯s teachings already coming into play. In the same instant, I used my tried-and-true telekinesis to blast the mana beast with a shotgun shell of stone.


    The stones pelted the monster with satisfying thunks, also knocking small holes into the clarwood tree the beast was perched on. It toppled off the branch with a pained screech, falling to the forest floor two stories below.


    I sensed another sphere of wind hurtling toward me from above. I dodged to the side, but the impact of the wind on the ground blew me farther than I expected. I tumbled slightly, but this time my will-o¡¯-wisp lights didn¡¯t vanish.


    Good.


    The beast I had knocked from the tree was struggling painfully on the forest floor, a few small wounds caused by rocks leaking bits of blood. I hadn¡¯t done as much damage as I wanted to because of the distance, unfortunately. Unwilling to let it recover, I conjured another fireball, letting it blast off at the prone grohd. It impacted, burning the creature in a cacophony of pained snarls.


    I had to dodge another wind ball from the forest canopy again. It was easier this time, but I still didn¡¯t know where the other was in the upper branches of the trees. A quick glance to the other grohd revealed a smoking corpse, charred by my spell. I grinned slightly as I scanned the treetops.


    I focused on my other spell, a sound grenade. I poured more mana into this one, focusing on creating as much of a disturbance as possible. A small orb of solid mana appeared in my palm, about as big as a baseball. The inside rippled with colors that made my head hurt slightly.


    When the next sphere of wind came, I hurled the sound grenade into the canopy with enforced strength in the direction the attack came from. I jumped to avoid the wind sphere, but not in time. It collided with the ground, blowing me into a nearby tree painfully.


    The grohd fared far worse. With an echoing boom, my sound grenade detonated in the air. My ears were shielded by mana, expecting the sound. The lizard beast, unfortunately, was not. It tumbled out of the trees, screeching as it hurtled to the ground below. I watched it tumble through the air, orange spines flashing weakly. Then it impacted the ground with a painful crack.


    I waited a moment, the blood still pumping in my ears. The forest had seemingly gone silent with the exceptional boom of my sound grenade, the wind itself deciding to quiet. My side ached slightly from impact with the tree, likely bruised. But nothing was broken.


    The grohd was a painful tangle of limbs. I could see bone jutting from a few of its bark-skinned legs where they had impacted the ground. Its eyes were still open, but the predatory glint had vanished in death. Blood pooled around the body, the coppery smell especially potent due to my enhanced smell.


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    Then I heard a snarl, somewhere in the far distance. I realized in horror that my sound grenade must have alerted everything within half a mile of my location. I would have to get out fast. I was willing to face down two barkskin grohds in their home territory, but not a dozen.


    I darted into the trees once more, beelining for where I knew the stream to be. I extinguished my will-o¡¯-wisp spell, leaving me in darkness, but I felt confident in at least navigating the trees to the creek. The sound of rushing water beckoned me forward; I was even more thirsty than before that short scuffle.


    I left the treeline after a minute, finally able to see the water. The stream wasn¡¯t too big, maybe five feet across and only as going up to my shins, but it might¡¯ve been the most welcoming thing I had ever seen.


    I carefully scanned the treeline, watching for mana beasts. When none made themselves known, I carefully stalked to the water.


    I knelt down, filling my water skin first, before taking heaping gulps of the clear liquid. It was refreshing and cool, soothing my parched throat like a balm. I opened my eyes, gazing up into the sky in some relief.


    I was immediately taken aback by what I saw. A million stars glittered across the sky in a beautiful display of cosmic wonder, unnamed constellations and suns far in the cosmos grinning back at me. A dozen different hues illuminated the night from on high, small blues and purples dancing with oranges and reds. They seemed to waltz in the black of night, streaming their light on my small stretch of land here on a distant planet. And standing proud amidst it all was a moon, familiarly pockmarked and dotted with craters.


    I gasped in awe, momentarily overwhelmed by the stellar beauty before me. I had never seen such an aurora of stars before; in my previous life, smog and pollution had blocked out the stars in all but the least populated areas. In Fiachra, light pollution from all the street lamps and city life dimmed what would otherwise be a wonderful display. Out here in this forest, I could truly appreciate the unfiltered sky.


    As I gazed into the depth of space, my body relaxed just the slightest bit. I realized how tired I really was. I had been up for about sixteen hours now and had been training strenuously for the past ten of those. As the stars winked down on my earthbound body, I felt how distant I was from my previous life.


    None of the constellations on high matched with those from Earth. No Big Dipper, no Sagittarius, no Aries, and no North Star. I was in a different world.


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    I blinked away tears and exhaled with a shudder, shoving those thoughts to the depths of my mind. I wasn¡¯t thirsty anymore, but I could probably eat an entire horse from how hungry I was. Crossing the stream, I jumped back into the trees with a telekinesis-assisted pull. A single firelight assisted my vision instead of many as I grew more comfortable navigating in the dark across the trees, keeping my senses peeled for any sign of danger.


    I spotted my quarry from my perch in the trees. Three skaunters were devouring the body of some other creature, one I hadn¡¯t personally encountered yet. I couldn¡¯t make out too many details of their prey, but I could guess. Toren knew some of the common mana beasts present in the forest outskirts, and I had a hunch that what the skaunters were eating was a wild wogart.


    They were the same doe-eyed mana beasts that ascenders farmed on the first level of the Relictombs. Truthfully, they weren¡¯t difficult prey.


    I pulled a rock from my pocket, aiming carefully. Simultaneously, I snuffed out my candlelight, then conjured a fireball. A couple of the rat-lizards perked up for the barest of moments, sniffing the air with their strange snouts, likely sensing me somewhat. But I wouldn¡¯t let them find me until it was too late.


    With an exhale, I fired my attacks at a skaunter each. The pebble nailed the first creature straight in the skull, killing it instantly with only a dull thwack. The second tried to dodge the fireball with a leap backward, but the flame burst, singing its face and causing it to yowl horrendously with its strange screech-snarl. The third skaunter hissed, spinning toward the direction the attacks had come from.


    I jumped from the treetop, landing the twenty-foot drop with ease. Then I dashed for the beasts, mana pumping in my legs. I beelined for the mana beast that had been burned, leaves crunching under my feet. It got the bright idea to jump in my direction, even though its eyelids had been practically seared shut.


    It cried out in anger as it sailed in the air, razor-sharp teeth ready to rip me to shreds. The second skaunter elected to do the same, launching itself with a choreographed screech. With my senses and reflexes heightened by mana, it was remarkably easy to sidestep the first creature. Before it could sail past, I clenched my fist and swung it in a backhand, my mana-clad blow closer to a hammer than anything else. The backs of my knuckles collided with the skaunter¡¯s ribcage with a satisfying crunch. The fur of the creature was course and bristled beneath my skin, but it did nothing to cushion my blow. I could feel the ribs of the dog-sized creature break under my knuckles, sending it careening to the side with a choked whimper.


    A split-second later, I flared my telekinesis crest, swiping my hand down to aid in casting. A white fluctuation of mana slammed into the back of the second creature¡¯s neck, forcing it into a downward tumble instead of an agile leap. I moved out of the way as it ate the dirt with a muffled screech, its four limbs struggling to right itself.


    I drew my dagger for the first time, briefly admiring the clear polish of the blade. I channeled mana into the weapon, happy with how well my strengthening of its structure held. Not wasting time, I aimed the point for the disoriented creature¡¯s heart, then thrust.


    I was immediately surprised by how easily my steel slipped between the mana beast¡¯s ribs, like a hot knife through butter. Blood seeped from the wound, coating the ground as I cut the monster¡¯s life short. As I withdrew the blade, the creature stilled its fighting quickly.


    I shuddered at the sensation of stabbing the skaunter. The flesh giving way under sharpened steel, the sticky wetness I could almost feel as the blade slid through¡­


    I suppressed a wave of nausea. I had killed several beasts so far, but all had been at range. Be it by pebble or fireball, I had killed. And I certainly caused more gruesome deaths: two monsters had their skulls blown apart because of me.


    But I didn¡¯t feel kill those beasts with my bare hands; didn¡¯t feel the skull explode like an overripe melon over my fingers. The sensation of killing with the blade ripped any joy I had previously at owning one at all.


    I slowly walked over to the last mana beast. It lay slowly dying, blood leaking from its mouth as it twitched on its side. I suspected that when I shattered its ribs, one of them must have pierced a lung or hurt it internally. It spasmed weakly.


    I stabbed my blade once more. I would have to desensitize myself to that kind of death. I flicked my dagger free of blood, cutting off my flow of mana into the steel. I sheathed it solemnly.


    I hadn¡¯t used the dagger so far, because without any instruction it was just as dangerous to me as it might be to an enemy. I knew some old weapon forms from my previous world as well as some from Toren¡¯s memories, but as Lady Dawn¡¯s footwork lesson proved, there were stark differences when superspeed and strength were involved with fighting. Now it would be even more difficult to use the blade.


    I gathered a few sticks next, then some larger branches. Haphazardly, I built a small campfire around the area I had slain the skaunters. Surprisingly, they hadn¡¯t bled too much after death. I had no doubt predators could find these corpses if they wanted to, but I was tired and I needed to eat.


    I lit the fire with a spark of mana, then hauled over the least wrecked of the skaunter corpses. Toren of Alacrya knew how to cook meat safely: after all, he regularly had to provide for himself and Norgan. But I would have to be creative if I wanted to actually cook this thing.


    I drew my dagger once more, the flickering of my small fire reflecting off the polished surface. I threaded my fingers through the knuckle guard, gripping it tightly. Focusing, I channeled mana into the steel once more, enhancing its durability and sharpness. The steel seemed to glow from the infusion of power, hinting at the strength under the surface.


    I brought my weapon down in a clean swing across the skaunter¡¯s leg, severing cleanly through skin, tissue, muscle, and bone. Cutting something was easier for me to stomach, I realized with morbid amusement. I didn¡¯t know why.


    The body and leg leaked a bit of blood, but I was able to cauterize the flows to deter any more predators. I held the¡­ paw, for lack of a better term, over the fire for a long while. It slowly cooked, a tempting aroma filling the air. There were certainly a million better ways to do this: flay the skin, separate the meat, and properly prepare the strips. But I didn¡¯t know those, so I brute-forced it.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision, the darkness growing even deeper under the night sky. Lady Dawn stood across my small fire from me, inspecting my work without any notable expression.


    I turned the leg, trying to get an even coverage of heat. ¡°What do you need?¡± I asked tiredly, the exhaustion threatening to overcome me.


    ¡°You hesitated to run the final beast through,¡± Lady Dawn said, her question unspoken. Why?


    I watched the embers of my fire crackle upwards, dancing into the air much like the stars that gleamed above. They were comforting: something I knew from both lives.


    ¡°There was no energy to manipulate in my previous world,¡± I said, watching the tongues of flame as they licked at my eventual meal. ¡°No mana. No ki. Though I¡¯m willing to bet aether still formed the world, none could touch it.¡± Lady Dawn was silent, letting me speak. ¡°We humans¡­ We love to fight. Whether that be over ideals, petty squabbles, or just because some of us enjoy violence. But without mana, we needed to find new interesting ways to kill each other.¡±


    This was the most I had spoken in one time since I had arrived in this world, I knew. But I wasn¡¯t just tired in body; I was tired in the mind as well. I was used to having people I could speak to vent my frustrations and fears; to release all my pent-up emotions. All I had here was Lady Dawn.


    ¡°We evolved past swords and spears. Instead, we used guns. It made fighting easier for everybody. Point the weapon, pull a trigger, and the target was dead from ten feet away.¡± I sighed. ¡°Those became the norm, not just because they enabled better slaughter, but because it made the death impersonal.¡± I looked into Lady Dawn¡¯s blazing eyes with my own somber ones. ¡°People just held a trigger on a device no larger than my arm and ended the lives of a dozen at a time. Very few of the humans of my previous world knew what it felt to drive a blade through another¡¯s flesh.¡±


    I looked back at the fire, noting how it was beginning to burn low. I tossed a few more sticks for fuel in as silence stretched between the asura and me.


    ¡°You call us lessers,¡± I finally said into the yawning silence, ¡°Because humans are weaker. Because they die to the slightest touch, compared to the vastness of asuras.¡± I took away the leg of the beast, turning it over to inspect how well-cooked it was. ¡°But there is one thing in which we are your equal.¡± I looked at the corpses of the skaunters around me, slowly going stiff in death. Their eyes held no life any longer; nothing but emptiness. ¡°We can kill indiscriminately just as well.¡±


    I stared at my meal somberly for several more moments. It was ready to eat, now. The fur had mostly burned away, leaving scorched skin. I drew my dagger once more, ready to shave off slices of the leg like a kabab. It truly wouldn¡¯t be the worst thing I had eaten in either of my lives, but I felt far less hungry now.


    ¡°There is another thing lessers surpass the asura in,¡± I heard Lady Dawn say quietly. I looked back at her, surprised to recognize a glimmer of emotion in her starlike eyes. For once, her voice wasn¡¯t so monotone. It held a note of sadness to it, something I knew well. ¡°You recognize the value of your lives better than we do.¡±


    The darkness of the Unseen World washed away, and I ate my meal under the silent watch of the stars.

 Chapter 13: Exile

    Toren Daen


    I awoke with the dawn, rays of sunlight peeking over the edges of clarwood trees. The remnants of my fire smoldered in an ashen pit, having long since extinguished. Around me, several small mounds of dirt hinted at the mana beast bodies I had buried before going to bed, both to avoid attracting predators and as a measure of respect.


    Birdsong filled the air, despite the fact I had yet to see any sort of bird in this forest. I got up and stretched, working out kinks in my back. I had slept against a tree, sheltered by a branch above and with my dagger clutched in my hand. It wasn¡¯t the most secure setup, but it was the best I could do.


    I searched around my pack, about to withdraw my waterskin. I was understandably parched.


    Before I could, however, a searing pain lanced from my mana core, causing me to stumble. I gasped as the pressure built, pushing against the boundary of my core. It was like something was rushing to get out, threatening to burst from my nexus of power. And by whatever gods existed in this world, it hurt.


    What the hell, I thought to myself in panic as sweat dewed on my forehead. What is happening?


    The pain began to finally simmer away, leaving me heaving. As the Unseen World subsumed my vision, I finally realized what the burning pain was. I should have expected it to happen sooner, to be honest.


    The Beast Will of Lady Dawn was rebelling against my body. If I didn¡¯t manage to assimilate it into my body, the Will would break down within me, ripping my core apart as the vessel was too small to handle it. It would sear and sear and sear, building in intensity and frequency before my core finally shattered, scattering the Will with it.


    Lady Dawn was standing expectantly before me. Her orange sundress melded with the sun, outlining her body in a flare of light. The phoenix¡¯s shadowy purple skin seemed more prominent with all the bright colors about her.


    ¡°The Will is fighting back,¡± Lady Dawn said smoothly. ¡°You must not let it.¡±


    ¡°Gotta assimilate it,¡± I said, steadying my breathing. ¡°I know. And I know the theory behind assimilation, too.¡± I gulped, sitting back down by my tree once more. ¡°But I think I¡¯m gonna need help.¡±


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°That is to be expected,¡± she said in her familiar monotone.


    I huffed. Lady Dawn didn¡¯t intend to degrade me, I knew. That she expected failure still hurt.


    I peered inward at my mana core, inspecting the light orange nexus of power. I would need to disperse mana across my entire body, letting my muscles and bones slowly absorb the energy.


    I pulled pure mana from my core, guiding it as best I could to each of my limbs and letting it settle. It was a slow and steady process, and it tested my patience. Mana would break off, shifting dispersing around my body or escaping into the air. Sometimes I felt the mana strengthening my body, which was not what I actually wanted it to do. It needed to remain pure and practically intent-less, then finally it would be absorbed by my body in a more fundamental way.


    I was beginning to grow frustrated by the process before a set of warm hands laid themselves on my back. Another force added itself to my own, acting with nigh infinitely more precision and care than my own ever could. Under this intent¡¯s direction, mana began to finally settle across my body. It needed to be held in place, something that I mimicked the best I could by copying Lady Dawn¡¯s motions. It was a paltry effort compared to what the phoenix was doing, but I needed to assist somehow.


    This attempt at wrangling my own mana to do what I needed of it continued for a long while more. I actually noticed some of the mana finally seep into my muscles at that point; that success motivated me more than anything. But eventually, I felt Lady Dawn¡¯s influence on my mana recede. It was like a breath of warm air rushing away, leaving a hollow space where something used to dwell.


    It was a strange experience.


    When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to notice how far the sun had moved during the time I had spent trying to assimilate the Will. An hour or two had passed in meditation. Another thing I hadn¡¯t noticed was how mentally worn I felt.


    It was as if I had been doing calculus all day again, but condensed in a mental drain that made it slightly harder to think. The mental fatigue surprised me in its intensity: I hadn¡¯t even noticed until I finally pulled myself from the assimilation process.


    ¡°The assimilation will take a long time more,¡± Lady Dawn said primly, standing in front of me once more. ¡°You will begin to feel the onset of the Will¡¯s struggles. Whenever these occur, I shall help you distribute the mana across your system.¡±


    I nodded in a tired thanks. ¡°Assimilation is practically the inverse of Integration,¡± I said with a daze. ¡°Instead of drawing mana into oneself to the point of bursting the core,¡± I continued, my thoughts slowly becoming more clear, ¡°I spread it out from my core, allowing it to dissolve into my body.¡± It was an interesting dichotomy; a push and a pull. Was there any correlation? Were they connected?


    Lady Dawn¡¯s eyes narrowed in a complex expression. ¡°You do know of the secret of Integration,¡± she said with masked surprise. ¡°That information has been leashed and kept away from men for centuries, lest they grow too powerful. But you, lesser of another world, know it.¡±


    A splash of clear panic cut through my exhaustion like a knife, clearing my mind as one might blow away fog. I realized a bit too late that I probably should not have admitted I knew the secret to achieving Integration, the stage beyond white core.


    Despite not interacting for long, Lady Dawn and I had been playing a game of keeping secrets to ourselves, an unspoken understanding between us that our relationship could not stand if either of us pushed.


    How did I know so much about the future? What had she done to reincarnate me? We both burned with questions, I was sure. But a tense arrangement had been reached without words; one that couldn¡¯t be disrupted.


    But if one of us released a secret of our own accord, the story changed.


    My thoughts spiraled into a dozen what-if scenarios and worries. Asuras, in general, really could not be trusted to keep the well-being of ¡®lessers¡¯ in mind. The Vritra clan regularly experimented on people in the infernal dungeons of Taegrin Caelum, picking anything they could touch apart to see how they worked. They were the worst kind of scientist: the kind without any ethical limits to stop their rampant experimentation.


    Kezess Indrath and the dragons of Epheotus had committed genocide on a scale beyond the worst megalomaniacs of my past life, succeeding in completely eliminating an entire race of peaceful people¨Cthe djinn¨Cin a horrific act. And it was done only because these people held more knowledge than he; more mastery of what he wanted for himself.


    I didn¡¯t really know how much I could trust Lady Dawn, but I also didn¡¯t have a choice. The asura of the Hearth, of which Lady Dawn was a part, seemed far more amiable to mortal kind than any other. They actively lived with the last remnants of the djinn, procreating with them and continuing the last remnants of a destroyed culture. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lady Dawn cut through my perceived panic like a knife. ¡°I will not press, Contractor,¡± she said, allowing my racing heart to settle. ¡°If it will set you at ease, I will tell you a truth of my own.¡± She paused, looking at my face for a while. ¡°I cannot manipulate mana as I am now. I am unable to act beyond your shell.¡±


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    Grateful for her change of topic, I blurted out a question. ¡°Wait, can¡¯t you manipulate mana? But you helped me with my own.¡±


    Lady Dawn shook her feathered head. ¡°No, I can merely assist you in efforts you already undertake, and only when you are in a meditative state.¡± She walked to a nearby tree, raising her arm. My curiosity turned to confusion as she waved her translucent arm at the tree, passing straight through without even a ripple.


    ¡°You can¡¯t interact with the environment?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°But you¡¯ve moved me before. I felt it just a minute ago,¡± I said with a frown.


    ¡°Only you,¡± the phoenix replied. She pointed at my sternum. ¡°The feather in your core contains everything that I am. My soul, my power, my knowledge. Centuries of experience and expertise condensed into a single plume. It is what binds me to you. And thus, we intersect.¡±


    I blinked, realizing how much that implied. It explained much. Lady Dawn had also let go of a secret of her own in a silent exchange for part of my knowledge. I was grateful for that. It implied a level of respect for me I was surprised existed.


    I looked once more to the sun, estimating it was now midmorning. If I wanted to reach Fiachra before noon, I would have to rush. Several seconds passed in comfortable silence before I interrupted.


    I suppressed the disquieting feeling that my own core was another prison for the phoenix.


    ¡°Any plans you have for me today?¡± I asked, turning north. ¡°There are a few things I need to do in Fiachra, but beyond that, all I can do is train,¡± I said mirthfully.


    ¡°You will be tested more this night,¡± Lady Dawn replied.


    I sighed. ¡°Shocker,¡± I said replied.


    ¡ª


    I reached Fiachra in record time, especially because I didn¡¯t run into any mana beasts coiling about the trees. My parkour skills had truly improved during this last night in the forest. I had spent less and less time making decisions for the next branch I wanted to leap to, and also regained my balance near instantly.


    It wouldn¡¯t be long before I was running through trees Naruto style. At least I hoped.


    The same guard greeted me at the gate as the last time, a welcoming smile on his face as he looked me up and down. ¡°You look like you won this time!¡± he said with cheer, bruising what little ego I had now. He thought I¡¯d lost my last fight?


    Well, considering what I looked like when I last showed up here¡­


    I smiled tiredly. I¡¯d only gotten about five hours of sleep last night, which I was certain would be a trend. ¡°I got my revenge,¡± I replied. ¡°Didn¡¯t let the tail get me this time,¡± I said, knowing he would catch my drift.


    The guard nodded. His full plate glinted in the noon sun. Absently, I wondered how he functioned at all under that steel under a hot sun before realizing he probably had some sort of mana-operated cooling. ¡°Grohds can be awful bastards if you aren¡¯t careful,¡± he said. ¡°That whip-like tail has claimed more than a few lives. It''s good to see your strength is growing!¡± he said, waving me on as I passed him three bronze marks¨Cthe coin, not the spellform. ¡°Every bit of power you gain glorifies the Sovereigns!¡± he called after me, far too chipper for his mundane job. The other guard was clearly bored beyond belief.


    But he was wrong. Every bit of strength I clawed from this world wouldn¡¯t glorify the Sovereigns. No, it would serve to bring them to their knees, if indirectly.


    My thoughts wandered as I slowly navigated back to my apartment. First on my list of things to do was to buy a journal. Also, a few metal skewers for food. I had a feeling I would be eating dinner in the forest for a long time, and the requisite equipment would help immensely.


    The atmosphere of Fiachra never ceased to draw a bit of wonder out of me, despite its strange familiarity. The canals and waterways were a testament to human and magical engineering, purposely dug to allow for the rapid transport of goods and people. Tunnels cut through hills to allow the canals to continue, arching upward finally at certain points in the city. It drew a childlike wonder to my mind, truly reminding me that I was in the equivalent of a fantasy world.


    That wonder began to fade as I moved towards East Fiachra. It was noticeably less vibrant than the wealthier parts of the city


    My plans were halted, however, when I saw a woman shuffling outside my apartment building. She wore a shawl over her head, making her hunched-over form seem even smaller.


    I recognized her, even through what I assumed was an attempt at disguise. Duena, the lady Norgan and I had saved.


    Anger bubbled in my chest. Irrational fury at the woman for being assaulted in broad daylight. For compelling my brother to run to her aid. For being too slow with her aging body to bring help in time.


    With an exhale, I suppressed the emotion. I stiffly wove through the crowd, approaching from the side. Duena had been nothing but good to us, I repeated to myself over and over. She deserved none of the anger I felt.


    ¡°Duena,¡± I said stiffly from behind her. She jumped, turning to face me quickly. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I asked, fighting to keep the bitterness from my voice. I failed.


    Duena looked unsure for a moment. ¡°Around the Healer¡¯s Guild,¡± she finally said. ¡°A few people were asking about you. Strangers.¡±


    I grit my teeth, guessing where this was going. I scanned the area once more, but I knew I wouldn¡¯t find anything out of place. ¡°What were they asking about, Duena?¡± I replied.


    ¡°Who you were. What your name was. Where you worked, that kind of thing,¡± Duena stuttered under my fierce stare. ¡°Trelza didn¡¯t give them anything, but they¡¯ll be back. They said so.¡± The aging woman looked at me from under her shawl, and I realized that her bruises from the beating she had taken hadn¡¯t fully healed. One of her eyes was no longer swollen shut, but it was still an ugly purple marring her rough skin.


    The sight made much of the restrained anger evaporate. Duena had still suffered under Blood Joan, just as I had. In fact, I never learned why she had been accosted by the ¡®scion of Blood Joan.¡¯


    I supposed it didn¡¯t matter now.


    My shoulders slumped and I turned my face into the sky. It was overcast now; the sun hidden behind a layer of clouds. ¡°I¡¯ll need to leave Fiachra,¡± I said with resignation. If I stayed within the city, I had no doubt the bloodhounds amidst Blood Joan would track me down eventually. And I was far from ready to face a mage in combat. I needed more time. I passed the woman and reached my hand to my apartment block door.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Duena said suddenly behind me, a crack in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Norgan. He was such a good boy. He didn¡¯t deserve to die like that,¡± she said, a growing sob coating her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to die, too. Not because of me.¡±


    I stayed facing the door for a moment. I closed my eyes, a few tears trailing down my cheeks. Then I entered my apartment, banishing my grief from my mind.


    ¡ª


    I didn¡¯t have much to pack. Toren and Norgan had lived light: only a few sets of clothes, the basic hygiene necessities, a journal and pen, and a few miscellaneous items.


    Most of these were already packed in my sling bag, barely fitting comfortably. Combined with the remaining coins, I had just enough space.


    I held the Daen signet ring in my hand, the symbol of the true heir to the Named Blood. The crest on the little piece of jewelry was a long-dead insignia of a long-dead family: a dagger sprouting rivers of runes. Toren¡¯s memories of the aging steward Arlen explaining the significance of the symbol floated to the surface of my mind.


    ¡°You are a house of blades,¡± he had said in his proper manner. ¡°Swords forged in the rivers of Fiachra and the blood of the Relictombs,¡± I remembered him directing his hand over a paper detailing each of the runes on the ring. ¡°The runes stretching from the left of the blade are found on every ascension portal. From the right flows those on every descension portal.¡±


    I remember him raising a finger, the classic pose for when he truly wanted Norgan and me to remember something. ¡°A Named Blood is forged in the Relictombs. Never forget that.¡±


    I threaded a small metal chain through the ring before clasping it around my neck.


    Norgan and I never forgot, I thought with sadness. The Relictombs were our goal. We¡¯d revive our house with glory and accolades, just as we once rose to power.


    I looked at the last item I owned. In an ornate metal case was a beautiful violin with a matching bow. The wood was clearly old, but with the remarkable polish and exquisite craftsmanship it looked graceful rather than decrepit. The strings were crafted of fine aether beast hairs, taken straight from the Relictombs. It was carved of clarwood, the tree native to the southern forest of Fiachra and namesake of the southern Dominion.


    Etched near the bottom was the familiar symbol of Named Blood Dean. This was the one other heirloom kept from the fall of the Blood: a beautiful violin crafted for the best of the art. If anybody but a master were to use it, it would be an insult to the instrument itself.


    Toren was a master. It was one of his few pastimes beyond training and practicing with his magic. Toren, and I by extension, could work wonders of art with that instrument.


    I stared at it long and hard before closing the case.


    I left the instrument there in the apartment, abandoned. Alacrya had very little musical culture anywhere, and I finally understood why.


    When it was fight or die, what room was there for music?

 Chapter 14: Progress

    Toren Daen


    I left Fiachra that very day, venturing back into the forest with nothing but my meager supplies and a gut roiling with determination. I could survive on the bare necessities: Toren had been for years. Shelter, food, and water were all present in the forest. But the danger was ever-present; always looming and ready to swallow me whole.


    Six weeks had passed since then. All I had done was train and train, running myself ragged in a desperate scramble for power. Learning to navigate this forest with the grace of a cat, fighting day in and day out with beasts across the forest, and struggling for food and water had granted me immeasurable improvement.


    And if I had tried what I was doing now when I first began, I would be dead in a millisecond.


    I stood silently on a tree branch, hyper-aware that I was surrounded. This deep into the Clarwood Forest the sun was rarely visible. The oldest and tallest of the trees grew in solid stature here, blocking out the sky with their canopies and casting the world in perpetual darkness. The forest floor was rife with fauna and mana beasts, making the tall boughs of the mighty clarwoods ironically safer than the ground.


    At least, that was usually the case. Right now, I was being hunted. My senses tingled as I waited for the monsters to close around me.


    Because there was rarely any light in the forest, most of the mana beasts around had evolved exceptional night vision. Even with my eyesight strengthened by mana, my own senses weren¡¯t quite as good as those naturally occurring. I learned this the hard way when a mana beast¨Csome sort of cat-like creature black as a panther but twice the size¨Chad nearly killed me in a faceoff on the forest floor. I was extremely lucky my wounds healed quickly, or else I would have fallen then.


    Now I relied heavily on another sense. The scrabble of claws against trees reached my mana-enhanced ears. I suspected my affinity for sound mana made this detection task easier and made my sense of hearing more receptive to strengthening, which was a godsend.


    Five beasts. I tilted my head, skittering from a bit further rebounding off my eardrums. No, six. Maybe more farther away, but out of my range.


    I shifted into a low stance on the thick branch, my knuckleduster dagger held in a reverse grip. As I heard a low hiss of breath, I launched myself from my perch with a timed combination of a telekinetic push at my feet and strengthened legs. I rocketed through the air with a slight whistle and a crack of wood, but my attention was on my target. As I soared past a tall tree, I pushed off it slightly with a burst of glowing white telekinesis, shifting my angle just enough.


    The mana beast had no time to react as I rocketed past, swinging my dagger as I went. The steel, imbued with mana to strengthen the material and sharpen its cut, scored a furrow across the unwitting monster¡¯s neck.


    It spurted blood, an artery clearly severed as it toppled off its perch to the ground below. Using a telekinetic pull, I yanked myself towards another bough of a tree. Catching it with one arm, I nimbly pulled myself to stand once more on a perch. Growls and hoots of anger echoed across the boughs of the tree, but I didn¡¯t move.


    These mana beasts were one of the top predators of this part of the forest. They looked almost like apes, but with far thicker hindlegs and flaps of skin connecting their arms to their hips, kind of like a twisted flying squirrel. After all, a fall from these trees was almost always fatal. These monsters couldn¡¯t fly, but they could glide.


    They were also intelligent. They hunted in small packs, herding their prey towards the others with organized hoots and howls. I learned that the hard way a few weeks ago when I fell for their gambit. I barely escaped with my life, and only because of a sound grenade scaring them off.


    There were more powerful monsters out here, after all. And loud sounds drew them like moths to a flame.


    These beasts were trying the same thing again, making noise in a slight area around the forest to make me dart in the opposite direction, where I knew several other beasts awaited me. I wasn¡¯t out of their encirclement yet, but I was close. And so easily killing one of the flying apes had agitated them.


    My head whipped to the side, the ever-so-slight whoosh of air alerting me to an incoming mana beast.


    I jumped backward, not using telekinesis this time. I narrowly avoided a swipe of an ape¡¯s razor-sharp claws, something used both for climbing and goring unfortunate reincarnates. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I knew that one from experience. These mana beasts had given me a great deal of trouble, and I had gone through most of my shirts because of them and their deadly claws.


    I backpedaled along the thick branch, weaving out of the way of another swipe. The apes were larger than I was and could match my mana-enhanced strikes blow for blow. I was pushed back, almost to the trunk of the tree.


    Before a swipe could hit me, however, I let myself slip off the branch. Instead of falling, however, I jabbed my dagger into the side of the bough, using my momentum to swing back up. Testing out my newest template spell, I condensed a shroud of sound around my shin. The air around it warped in nauseating colors, humming audibly. The vibrating sound alerted the flying ape, causing it to pivot swiftly.


    Too late.


    With a midair twist, I landed a powerful roundhouse kick to the mana beast¡¯s head. The spell wrapping my shin burst with my strike, vibrations adding to my blow as the creature¡¯s skull rattled.


    It teetered, blood running from its nose. Its eyes rolled back into its damaged skull, then fell off the branch into the yawning darkness of the forest floor. I landed squarely back on the branch, exhaling lightly. That spell was designed to amplify the internal damage of anything I struck, condensing shockwaves to bounce around inside a target. I had effectively pulped the beast¡¯s brain. After all, what is sound but vibrations traveling through air molecules?


    I had no time to rest now, however. The death of two of their number enraged the remaining creatures, sending them into another frenzy of hoots and howls. I heard the roars of a few of the creatures approaching but knew another was nearby. Not allowing myself to stop, I waved my hand, and several fireballs appeared before me. They cast my disheveled and worn body in a grim orange glow, flickering with promise. I sent them off hurtling toward their targets, narrowing my eyes in concentration.


    All three missed their marks, but were close enough to illuminate the snarling faces of each ape. Another difference from the monkeys of Earth was that their teeth were all razor sharp, and I didn¡¯t want to have the misfortune of getting too close. The apes glided towards me on their flaps of skin, assisted by wind mana. Thinking quickly, I conjured another fireball; bigger and more condensed this time before sending it toward the middlemost beast. It had to swerve out of the way, staggering its arrival.


    Before the apes could reach me, I switched my dagger from a reverse to a forward grip, then rocketed off my branch with both a telekinetic push and strengthened legs. Simultaneously, I used a small pull of telekinesis to upset the careful balance of the middle creature, which had barely dodged my fireball. It started to tumble in the air; the equilibrium required to glide disrupted dangerously.


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    I zipped past the two other beasts, a small coating of fire surging on my left hand. The spinning beast screeched in terror before I deflected its wildly swinging claws upward with a flash of steel. At the same time, I used a telekinetic pull with my right hand as I swung in an uppercut with my fire-coated left, yanking the beast¡¯s skull violently into my attack.


    Its jaw cratered into its face in a burst of heat, its cries dying out instantly as it went limp. Still falling, I used a pulse of telekinetic force on the body to push me to a nearby tree. I jammed my dagger into the trunk, holding on with one hand while the soles of my feet anchored me further.


    The remaining two beasts had reached the branch I had jumped off from. Two quickly became three when the final beast revealed itself, the last of this pack. They jeered at me from their perch, but didn¡¯t jump after me.


    I snarled back, using a bit of sound magic to make my voice reverberate with as much menace as I could manage.


    The beasts slowly quieted, cowed by the fight. They had lost half their number, going from six to three in a matter of minutes. If they lost a single ape more, their pack-hunting tactics would be null.


    And these beasts knew it. They fled into the darkness, far away from me. I watched them go for a while, hanging from my dagger with my teeth bared. When I was certain they were gone, I exhaled, letting that side of me drift into the wind.


    I scanned my surroundings one more time, focusing on my hearing and mana sense. When I was sure the coast was clear, I scaled back to my ¡®home tree¡¯ with a combination of telekinetic pulls, leaps, and using my own dagger to catch myself when there were no branches to alight upon. This was even easier than when I started, and not just because of my parkour practice. With my growing insight into my telekinesis crest, I was now able to cause two effects rather than just one, which I used to great advantage to cave in one of the flying ape¡¯s jaws.


    I reached my hollow soon enough. High in the trees near the canopy of this eternally dark forest, I had carved out a small nook into one of the clarwoods. A branch jutted out just outside of it, lending me a small place to rest on. Inside the tree was where I stashed the belongings I couldn¡¯t carry with me. Namely, small bowls carved of wood and a sad attempt at a pot whittled from a thick branch, the remainder of my clothes, my sling bag, my coins, and my journal. I didn¡¯t dare take my sling bag with me when I fought: enough of my garb had been shredded through the last month and a half that I knew I wouldn¡¯t be able to keep it safe.


    Many packs of those flying apes had tried to assault me in the past couple of weeks as I staked out my hovel in this tree. They were extremely territorial, and I had to constantly ward them off from my small slice of peace. This was the closest thing I had to a home base, after all.


    My body and clothes were perpetually caked with grime, and I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the beasts of this forest tracked me by smell alone. There were plenty of streams cutting through the forest floor but staying too long at any of them could lead to being swarmed. There was no chance for a bath of any kind.


    I sat down on my branch, pulling my journal and pen from my nook in the tree. It was a rather nice book: leather bound with the crest of Named Blood Daen stamped prominently on the cover. Inside, Toren had laid out his plans, hopes, and dreams for his future. Now I did the same, but with far more caution.


    I wrote my words in code: a combination of a basic date-shift cipher, then a block cipher, and finally a simple key-shift. It was technically quite rudimentary and a pain to decipher, but it had become easier and easier with time. Furthermore, I used the date of the day I had died in the year 2023 instead of the year of Alacrya, hopefully making it just a bit more secure.


    The year was 1736 SR, or Sovereign¡¯s Reign. According to Arlen, Toren¡¯s tutor, the date marked the anniversary of the Vritra¡¯s arrival to ¡®liberate¡¯ the native Alacryans from their misery.


    In my journal was everything I could remember about the events of The Beginning After the End in chronological order, the best I knew them. I also jotted down as much miscellaneous information as I could. I doubted I would ever see the novel again, and I needed to pen down everything I could remember.


    From what I knew, Arthur would return to Dicathen from his training in Epheotus in two years or so, give and take a few weeks or months. After that was the Battle of Slore, the discovery of Rahdeas¡¯s treachery, Uto¡¯s death, then Arthur¡¯s couple of months of training. Very shortly after that, he ascended to white core. That was the bare summary of ¡®Volume 6,¡¯ though calling it a book now felt foolish.


    An unknown amount of time passed between then and the beginning of ¡®Volume 7,¡¯ but I speculated it wasn¡¯t terribly long. Maybe a couple of months at most. The Battle for the Wall and the Fall of Elenoir. The Battle of Etistin Bay and the subsequent loss of the war by the capture of Dicathen¡¯s flying castle¡­


    Over the past month and a half, I had filled this journal to the brim with all I knew and could remember. Names, places, events, estimated dates, etcetera. I hadn¡¯t written down any concrete plans for how I would accomplish the goal my contract demanded of me, but I had the barest inkling of an idea. If my knowledge of the future was correct, Scythe Nico¡¯s first appearance was at the slaughter of Etistin Bay.


    I sighed, closing the book with a quiet clap of paper. I had overthought and gone over everything I knew a dozen times over, but ultimately I would just need to wait and see how the future of this world played out if it was anything like what I knew. I had only read through the start of Volume 11, so I didn¡¯t even know everything that would truly help me succeed.


    If this world followed the path I knew at all.


    I clamped down on those thoughts with iron. The days of constant fighting and training served to distract me from my woes and problems, but when I sat alone with nothing but the wind rushing through the trees, I was forced to think.


    The Unseen World crowded my vision, the dark seeming somehow darker as the range of my senses narrowed and wisps of mist and fog encroached. Lady Dawn stood across from me on the bough of the tree; her sundress fluttering in unseen wind and watching me with her perpetual sternness.


    ¡°You have progressed far, Contractor,¡± she said. I grinned a bit tiredly. Lady Dawn rarely ever complimented my training, but she had been an immense help in increasing my battle prowess. From guiding my mastery over mana, to combat forms, to helping me assimilate her Will, I felt deeply indebted to the phoenix. She tilted her head, inspecting me. ¡°You have come to a decision,¡± she stated.


    Over the past six weeks, especially since the first time I used my dagger, tensions between the phoenix and I had cooled considerably. We still kept secrets: deadly secrets. She didn¡¯t ask what I knew of the future or how. I didn¡¯t ask how I was reincarnated, or the original reason for it.


    I suspected I had thrown a wrench into that original plan when I became her Contractor.


    But I felt more comfortable letting her in on some of what I knew in return for training me.


    ¡°I vaguely know the time and location of the first concrete appearance of one of the anchors,¡± I said. Nico would appear to decisively end the Battle of Etistin Bay in Alacrya¡¯s favor. ¡°So far, my knowledge has been accurate. But there hasn¡¯t been time for divergence,¡± I added, stashing my notebook back into my sling bag. ¡°I can¡¯t make absolute plans until I learn more.¡±


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°You are returning to the city,¡± she said in her authoritative monotone. The phoenix rarely asked questions outright.


    ¡°I am,¡± I said with an exhale. This excursion into the forest had been a strange combination of training, laying low from Blood Joan, and running from my problems. I was far more powerful than when I first entered this forest. I had cemented a bit of my fighting style, honed my magic, and was close to breaking through to Yellow Core. But more importantly, I was thinking with a clearer head. The truth of my reincarnation in this world had settled enough to allow me to make rational decisions; plan more effectively. ¡°It''s high time Blood Joan paid for their crimes.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what Lady Dawn thought of my quest for revenge. She never commented on it when I spoke of it. Then again, Lady Dawn rarely went out of her way to speak beyond training and instructing me. We were more business partners than anything else.


    I only had one more pair of clean clothes, unfortunately. But when I reentered the city, I didn¡¯t want it to be in the rags I wore now, caked in blood, dirt, and sweat.


    I packed everything I needed into my sling bag, before swinging it over my shoulder. Securing the strap, I bounded down the seventy or so feet to the forest floor. A stream trickled just below.


    I stayed barely long enough to refill my waterskin, knowing the dangers of waiting any longer. Then I launched into the air with a flare of telekinesis, beelining north.


    Fiachra awaited me.

 Chapter 15: Preparations

    Toren Daen


    When I reached the stream closest to the exit¨Cthe stretching flow of water where I had my second battle with skaunters¨CI barely took the time to check my surroundings before ripping my battle-torn clothes off and cleaning myself with fervor. The water was cold, especially as the month of November took hold. The temperature had continued to drop on average, and while enhancing my body regularly with mana helped me ward off the chill, soon it wouldn¡¯t be enough.


    Several new scars marked my body: one nasty cut stretched across my abdomen where a flying ape had nearly disemboweled me. A jagged trio of claw marks stretched from my upper back to my shoulder, evidence of how I escaped the jumbo panther on the forest floor. It took a while for me to get used to physical pain, but Toren¡¯s experiences helped harden me to it.


    I lathered some of my lye soap over my arms, noting the vibrant red chain tattoo that wrapped from my palm to my upper chest, stopping dead over my sternum. It appeared too bright and contrasted strangely with my skin, seeming to be overlaid a millimeter above my body rather than formed of actual ink. There was truth to that, I supposed.


    As I looked into the sky, I appreciated the clarwood trees. Instead of losing their leaves in the winter months, they shifted to a pale white color. They weren¡¯t quite there: at a cream-colored orange right now instead of pure white.


    I was interrupted from my bathing by a trio of skaunters stalking from the woods. The rat-lizard creatures issued their usual snarl-screeches, stalking forward with attempted menace. Now, however, I was far beyond them in power.


    With a snarl, I pushed outward with my killing intent¨Ccalled King¡¯s Force by the asura¨Cand slammed it into the beasts. They froze midstep, their rodent-like ears flattening against scaled heads. They quickly retreated into the forest, whimpering in terror.


    Killing intent was more complex than The Beginning After the End would have had me believe. In essence, it was similar to normal conjuration magic: enforcing your will¨Cyour intent¨Cover the ambient mana. But while the intent to kill was easy to project, the effect varied based on a number of factors, as I had discovered. My own confidence in my abilities, the actual number of beasts I had killed, and the raw power at my command all played a role in King¡¯s Force.


    What I was doing was forcefully conveying the total weight of my power onto another creature. All I had slain, my own belief in myself, and the purity of mana in my core condensed into one solid message: ¡®You will die if you fight me.¡¯


    I had killed enough monsters beyond skaunters, and enough skaunters themselves, that my killing intent was enough to cow them.


    With a sigh, I went back to washing myself in the stream.


    It feels good to finally be clean, I thought to myself as I watched the water being tainted red and brown from all the filth being washed off of me. Cleanliness was what separated man from beast, and I was the closest I had ever been to beasthood in the depths of that forest. Now, as I entered back to civilization, I washed myself not just of the grime, but of the mindset as well.


    When I was finally clean, I donned my final set of clothes. I wore loose, dark trousers that nicely complimented an unembroidered gray-blue long-sleeved tunic. I cinched my dagger to my waist with a dark leather belt before securing my sling bag over one shoulder.


    With that done, I vaulted back into the trees, zipping along at speeds that a normal human would never be able to manage. In a couple of minutes, I reached the edge of the forest. Sparing my home for the past weeks a final glance, I set off toward Fiachra.


    ¡ª


    I looped around to the West Gate this time, which added another twenty minutes to my journey back. I didn¡¯t want to be predictable, however, so I avoided the South Gate. Blood Joan was certainly still keeping an eye out for me, so I needed to be stealthy here. I knew very little about Blood Joan, while I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they knew everything there was to know about Toren Daen.


    Fiachra was subdivided into five districts: one for each cardinal direction with a small central division, designed to mirror the Dominions of Alacrya at large. West Fiachra was the second-wealthiest district, and it showed. It was awash with vibrant color, brilliant reds and oranges painting the masonwork of many of the buildings. The cobbled streets were wide and open, made to feel even more vast by the tributaries that ran alongside the main roads. Magic was heavy in the air. The mana vibrated and pulsed as a dozen different artifacts contributed to the web of industry and function: lamps powered by mana lined the roads, with everpresent mana-powered boats ferrying people and goods along the water. It felt alive in a way East Fiachra did not.


    Right now, I needed information. So I did what any reasonable person would do: I went to the local library.


    For all of Grey¡¯s missteps in his initial forays through Alacrya, checking the local library was not one of them. Unfortunately, the information he was looking for wouldn¡¯t be available there. The information I needed I was reasonably certain would be easy to find.


    The West Fiachra Library was a tall building, easily four stories in height. Across the nameplate was a now familiar winged serpent behind the text. When I entered, I was almost immediately blown away by what I saw.


    A central corridor led to segmented spaces lined with bookshelves that had several floors, each slice of the area dedicated to different genres and categories. The central space itself was open and airy, with many reading desks. A chandelier hung forty feet in the air, casting a warm light through the quiet atmosphere.


    I recognized students working through several texts at several of the reading desks by their matching uniforms. I looked away quickly, searching for an information desk. Norgan and I had almost entered an academy, but that was a life gone before it could start.


    I spotted the desk soon enough. The receptionist, a scrawny boy with glasses and a mop of light brown hair, scrutinized me with tired eyes as I walked over.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a book that has information about the local Bloods of Fiachra,¡± I continued. ¡°Could you point me in the right direction?¡±


    The boy fixed the glasses on his face. I noticed he had been reading a book, but I couldn¡¯t make out the title. ¡°Of course,¡± he said, the ¡®I¡¯m helping a customer¡¯ mask washing over his features. It seemed that some things were constant in every world. ¡°If you go a bit past the Blood Theory section over there,¡± the teen pointed to one of the sections, ¡°You¡¯ll see a sign for Blood History. There¡¯s a dedicated couple of shelves for Fiachran Bloods.¡±


    The boy scanned me up and down, clearly noting the red chain tattoo over my hand. I would have to get some gloves to cover that up. ¡°Are you a student at one of the academies?¡±


    I frowned slightly, not comfortable explaining any of my own business. ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡±


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    The boy shrugged as if to say ¡®What can you do?¡¯ ¡°Academy students get an extra week on their loans. Most don¡¯t take advantage of that,¡± he explained.


    I nodded. ¡°Thank you anyway,¡± I said before walking toward the Blood History section.


    I quickly found a small compendium of Fiachran Bloods. It was a decade old, but considering Blood Joan had been at large for at least thirty years, I was confident I would find some information on them.


    I was correct. In fact, the book gave me a comprehensive detail of House Joan¡¯s family tree. The patriarch was a man named Lawrent Joan. At the time of writing, he had a young son named Lawris. A dozen other blood relations were mentioned, such as Lawrent¡¯s siblings: a brother named Dornar and a sister called Kaelan. As I read down the page, I realized I wasn¡¯t going to get much more out of the family tree, so I skipped to the next section. I now knew the Blood rose to prominence only forty years ago, using the wealth they gained from their ¡®victory¡¯ over Named Blood Daen to rise in power.


    But finally, my efforts paid off. The book noted that Blood Joan owned a small estate in North Fiachra, just off South Sovereign Boulevard. I had no idea where that was, but I could get a map easily enough.


    I reshelved the book with a slow smile, feeling like I was making progress. I nodded to the tired receptionist before stepping back into the Fiachran bustle of midday.


    I had to prepare.


    ¡ª


    It was early evening when I was finally done with my shopping. The sun was ever-so-close to setting, the lowering light heralding the encroaching chill of the night. Dusk made East Fiachra even more depressing, the darkness complimenting the drab colors and claustrophobia of the buildings in a collage of sadness.


    Finding a secluded alley, I ducked aside. Not a moment too soon, either. A searing heat¨Cfar less than ever before, but still noticeable¨Clanced through my mana core. I quickly sat behind a large crate, the shadow it cast hiding me from unfriendly eyes.


    I looked inward, noting my progress toward the next stage. I was close to yellow core: something that shouldn¡¯t be possible, because I had been assimilating Lady Dawn¡¯s Will for the past month. When assimilating a Beast Will, a mage couldn¡¯t draw mana from the air to purify their core to the next level.


    But my core wasn¡¯t being purified by the ambient mana. The feather at the center of my core continued to pulse with energy, scouring away impurities and forcing the nexus of my strength onward in development.


    The Unseen World overlaid my eyes, Lady Dawn looking down at me. I nodded in greeting, already beginning to spread mana from my core outward. I had improved in managing my mana dramatically, Lady Dawn¡¯s example helping me more than anything else could. But I was still leagues from her skill.


    Silently, the asura began to help me assimilate the mana from my core across my body. It was a slow and grueling task, but time passed quickly in meditation. The movement of mana served as a sort of training for me as well: it helped iron out my influence and control over mana, with Lady Dawn as a model.


    Time ticked by as I slowly assimilated the mana through my muscles and bones. When I was done, I exhaled lightly. Relief flooded through my veins as the searing in my mana core dwindled away, kept at bay for a time by the combined efforts of the phoenix and myself. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When we were done, I quickly changed into what I labeled my ¡®stealth garb.¡¯ It had bought each item earlier: a set of dark clothes, a black hooded cloak, and fingerless gloves made of sturdy dark leather that stretched to my elbow. The salesman had explained that it was made with high-quality mana beast hide, which probably explained why it cost such a pretty penny.


    I cinched my belt at my waist and fastened my dagger to my side, before checking to make sure the pouch on the other side was secure. It was filled with small pebbles and rocks: a tried and true method of attack for use with telekinesis.


    I held the last touch of my disguise in my hand.


    It was a dark metal mask with light filigree, but an obvious tarnish had weathered much of its detail. It covered my entire face, stretching to encompass most of my jaw and a good portion of my hairline, secured with solid straps. Two small horns, clearly designed to mimic those of the Vritra, stretched from the side of the mask.


    I spent the most money of anything on the mask, buying it from an antique shop I found near the outskirts of West Fiachra. I had honestly struck gold there; I had planned to simply wrap my face in cloth.


    But the mask, though unenchanted, would serve a near magical purpose. It was a frightening thing, and that was what I intended to be.


    I had a little less than half of the coins Norgan and Toren had saved up left. The sum they had gathered was substantial: three years'' worth of good pay from two people. It had been enough to pay both Toren and Norgan¡¯s entire way through academy training.


    Now it served to pay my way through vengeance.


    I stashed the rest of my belongings in my ever-trusty sling bag before securing it in place over my cloak. It blended in remarkably well, and with the hardships I put it through in the cutthroat depths of the Clarwood Forest, I knew it would take a slice of hell to come through damaged.


    I flipped up my hood, finally covering all of my features. I bent my legs, imbuing mana into them, before launching myself into the air with a push of telekinesis. I didn¡¯t get enough height to actually jump the three stories needed to reach the rooftops, so I kicked off of the brick wall with a smaller push of telekinesis to get me the rest of the way. I landed soundly on the angled rooftop, surveying my surroundings.


    It was an hour or so past sunset, and the glowing lights of Fiachran households illuminated many of the buildings all about. It was darker in this small section of East Fiachra, though the light of the waxing moon provided enough to see. The stretching waters of the canals reflected the stars in a tapestry of sparkles. The previous traffic was nearly nonexistent under the cover of darkness.


    Fixing my view north, the buildings in that direction were noticeably taller, though much sparser from what I could see so far away. I leapt and bounded across the rooftops under the watching stars, the practice and constant parkour I had done under the high stakes of the Clarwood Forest allowing me a grace I would¡¯ve never imagined in my previous life.


    I was almost to the boundary line to North Fiachra, something that set it apart from all other districts. Every other division of Fiachra was noted by a simple sign whenever you crossed over. North Fiachra was cut off from the other sections with a wall stretching far into the air. It wasn¡¯t wide enough to walk across, so I had no worries about patrols. The wall stretched and twisted, nearly cutting the entirety of Fiachra in half length-wise. North Fiachra was the largest district by land, after all: home to the upper crust of the city.


    I skidded to a stop on a nearby rooftop, observing the wall before me. It was dark gray, made of earth that seemed to be one entire structure with no seams or breaks for mortar. It must have been raised by earth mages, which added a level of strength to the barrier. It had stylistic designs here and there across the wall depicting basilisks and horned symbols, something that was ever present across the city.


    There was a considerable distance between the nearest building and the wall. Below me, one of the wider main streets of Fiachra ran along the entire length of the wall, blocking me an easy leap across. I looked both ways, checking to see if any watchers were present. Confident nobody was observing, I edged to the far end of the rooftop.


    I turned back to face the wall, then burst forward into a hard sprint. Mana enhanced my legs beyond human capacity, pushing me forward. As I reached the edge of the roof, I focused on using a telekinetic push. I angled it under my feet in a controlled concentration of power, releasing it just as I jumped.


    I sailed through the air with an echoing crack of wood and mortar behind me, the sudden force of my telekinesis shattering the stonework. The wind buffeted against me, causing my cloak to flare out as I soared in an arc.


    At the apex of my arc, I focused on the approaching wall. I would just barely miss my mark if my calculations were correct. After all, jumping fifty feet in one bound and aiming for a higher ledge was no simple feat. Luckily, I had something that made physics a suggestion.


    I pulled on the edge of the wall, yanking myself towards it in a continuous pulse. It started off weak, not able to affect even the weight of my clothes. As careened closer, however, the force I could exert jumped exponentially, allowing me to pull myself to the wall finally.


    I slammed into the wall of stone, managing to grab onto the edge of the top with a soft whump. Grinning to myself under my mask, I hoisted myself onto the wall.


    North Fiachra lay before me, the land of the opulent and the rich.


    And the land of my enemies.

 Chapter 16: Scouting

    Toren Daen


    I was far more cautious as I traversed North Fiachra. I made an active effort to restrain my presence, knowing that I was in the midst of mages far beyond my power level now.


    North Fiachra had several subdivisions which were easy to note. A commercial section catering to high-class customers, more general political offices and buildings, and finally a residential area, which was by far the largest.


    The map I had nabbed from the West Fiachra Supervisory Center showed the delineations of these subdistricts clearly. The residential area took up most of the land: not because of the number of buildings, but because of the open space. Instead of the familiar ordered and rigid waterways of the rest of the city, I saw plenty of public parks with more natural meandering streams. Copses of trees dotted the slightly hilly stretch.


    It¡¯s like a slice of the countryside transplanted into the middle of the city, I noted with appreciation, watching from the roof of a shop. The wonders magic can do.


    I dropped to the ground silently, my cloak fluttering behind me. Watching the street names, I finally found the one I was looking for: South Sovereign Boulevard.


    It was a long road through some light trees. The path was cobbled, clearly designed for carriage travel. It was lined with lampposts, though they were powered by mana instead of electricity.


    Sticking to what I knew, I kept to the spattering of trees around the road. As I darted along the trees, I noted several gates to nearby estates. On each and every gate, a crest was etched that I assumed marked the Blood that lived there. Having not yet seen Blood Joan¡¯s ember-like symbol, I continued to search.


    The estates I could spy on in this section were opulent things for a style of living far beyond anything I had experienced in either of my lives. The scenery itself would be worth a fortune, not to mention being constructed with what were no doubt expensive building materials.


    Finally, I reached a gate with the icon I was looking for: a stylized ember overlaying twisting rivers. I crouched on a branch as I inspected the place, snarling under my mask. My breath misted in the chill night air. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I looked past the gate, eying the building beyond. It was significantly smaller than many of the other estates, but clearly what I was looking for. It had a small courtyard with a miniature fountain at the center. The yard was rimmed with trees that had lost their leaves as autumn neared its end. This allowed me to spy through to a slight degree, noting the distinct features of the estate.


    Tonight was a scouting mission only. I didn¡¯t plan on doing anything more than observing the Joan estate: noting the windows, doors, and layout of the place. I didn¡¯t think I would be able to do anything any time soon, but having this knowledge in the back of my pocket was important for future planning.


    So it was quite a surprise to me when one of the windows on the second floor blew outward in a nimbus of fire, sending shards of glass flying and a billow of smoke into the night air. I went taught like a bowstring in surprise, just about ready to bolt in the other direction. If there was something going on in that building to draw attention, I did not want to be nearby.


    But then I spotted two dark shapes burst from the conflagration, trailing smoke as they ran over the earth towards the side of the courtyard. Barely a second later, five more figures burst from the fire in hot pursuit. I saw and felt the spells being fired off at the fleeing duo: a few bolts of fire, spears of ice, and blades of wind. The escapees barely managed to avoid the volley, one of them deflecting a sliver of ice with a clang audible to my enhanced ears. Then they both vaulted over the fence into a bit of the forest, hightailing it out, their pursuers hot on their tail. I looked back at the estate and the commotion it would no doubt cause.


    People would be swarming the area soon, meaning my scouting time was done. But another opportunity presented itself in its place. I considered it, warring with myself internally.


    I bit out a curse, then moved to follow.


    Naereni


    I darted through the small forest, cursing at myself for the dozenth time. I weaved out of the way of a tree, shifting in front of it to block our enemy¡¯s line of fire. Hofal was close behind, moving as fast as he could. Every so often he would conjure a small block of earth with his crest to deflect the spells being sent our way, but they didn¡¯t stand up long. Sparing a glance back, I could count five on our tail.


    Damn. And we had been doing so well, too. The target was in our grasp, but something had gone wrong. I didn¡¯t know what or how, yet. I had barely finished decoding the mana lock on the safe before someone rang the alarm. As far as I knew, neither Hofal nor I had done anything to give ourselves away or expose our position


    Were they expecting us?


    One of Joans¡¯ lackeys conjured a sheet of ice that stretched across the forest, almost causing me to lose my balance, but my crest granted me the reflexes to even out fast enough. Unfortunately, that cost me a valuable few seconds.


    Hofal deflected an errant burst of fire behind me with his buckler, the force pushing him in line with me. He was huffing lightly from exertion, barely visible dampness around his mask highlighting his tired state. It wasn¡¯t from normal physical fatigue, I knew: he was focusing more on his physical enhancement mark than he usually did, fighting to keep up with me. My own runes revolved around speed; his on durability. For him to match me in our escape was a significant effort.


    I would apologize to him later if we got out of this alive.


    I conjured a small blade of ice in my hand, mist wafting off of it as it formed. I threw it behind me, imbuing more mana into the spell to increase its effectiveness.


    I spared another look behind me, annoyance taking hold as I watched the group¡¯s shield summon a wall of ice to deflect my own frozen construct. It stalled our opponents for a split-second, though, just as Hofal and I burst through the treeline.


    ¡°Escape route C,¡± I said to the older man running by my side. Hofal nodded in understanding: we had planned this heist for months. Escape routes in case it went wrong were a given.


    I just hoped we would get there in time.


    ¡°On your left!¡± Hofal cried, his voice scratchy and hoarse. I barely ducked a spinning razor of wind, gritting my teeth as it ruffled my hood.


    As we entered more exposed space, Hofal was forced to defend us from another volley of spells. Doing my best to help, I summoned a larger shield of ice instead, tossing it to my partner. He used it to better effect than I ever could, angling it just right to parry incoming spells. Then he threw it, making one of our pursuers¨Ca very angry looking young woman who threw fireballs¨Cnearly trip.


    Hofal was visibly more tired once we reached the first set of buildings, and I was beginning to feel a bit of the drain as well. I had used a decent bit of mana just pushing my body strengthening to escape already.


    We ducked into a more narrow alleyway, barely avoiding a scythe of wind as it flew over our heads. Now that we were in a closed space, Hofal whirled around, his larger body settling into a wide stance. I felt the mana around him twist and whirl, then solidify as a wall of thick earth erupted in front of us a second later, putting a solid barrier of stone ten feet tall between us and our pursuers.


    ¡°That won¡¯t hold them for long,¡± he said, huffing slightly. ¡°Come on, we can¡¯t stop!¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, continuing to run. I spied my target quickly: one of the larger tributaries of the canals that stretched through all of Fiachra. Concentrating, I summoned large plates of ice in my hands. Instead of turning away from the water, Hofal and I continued to bolt toward it.


    I jumped toward the water, summoning small discs of ice under my feet to catch me. I dropped the plates I summoned into the water as I ran. Hofal hopped from plate to plate, our crossing painfully slow. My crest enhanced my sense of balance enough to dart across, but I couldn¡¯t leave Hofal behind.


    Come on, come on, I thought through gritted teeth. So close!


    My thoughts were interrupted by a loud boom from behind us and the sound of crumbling rock. I turned around, watching in dismay as the five mages burst from the alleyway. Hofal and I just barely made it across the water before I felt one of the mages start casting something.


    My eyes widened as ice began to spread across the water in a sheen, providing the mages a far easier crossing. Hofal and I resumed our run, but the gap began to close once more. I took a hard left into an alley, leading my partner and me into it.


    We were met with a dead end.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I slowly turned around, grim determination in my gut. The five mages finally slowed around the mouth of the alley, stalking towards us like a cat towards a trapped rat. The scene was almost ruined by the heavy breathing of the shield who had cast the ice spell, clearly worn from his last spell.


    That didn¡¯t make our situation any less serious.


    One of our pursuers stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. He was a big man with a few scars across his arms, and a sword was on his hip. I couldn¡¯t remember him throwing any spells as he chased us. A striker, then?


    ¡°You should¡¯ve kept your paws off Blood Joan¡¯s stuff,¡± the man said with a smirk. He slowly drew his sword, flourishing it. ¡°But because you mongrels didn¡¯t, the Rats will die here today.¡±


    Hofal stepped in front of me protectively, holding his buckler defensively and drawing his axe. I conjured a dagger out of ice, holding it in the stance Karsien had drilled into me. With my other hand, I fiddled with the slot near the back of my belt.


    ¡°Half a dozen Bloods have failed to touch us,¡± I said with confidence, not betraying my unease. ¡°Joan is no different. Even if we failed tonight, we will succeed another.¡±


    The man snorted, then waved his hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy killing you. You Vritra-damned slum rats will die under my blade. You¡¯ve avoided your due for far too long.¡± His team members began to move into formation.


    I clenched my hand around the sphere in my pack. Any second now¡­


    I had barely a second to register the sound of cracking brick before the formation of our enemies was suddenly interrupted by a dark blur slamming into their rearguard from above.


    I watched, stunned, as the shield that had caused us so much trouble with his ice slammed into the ground painfully, then bounced a few feet from the impact. A figure clad in black, a wicked metal mask and a hooded cloak covering their features, skidded to a stop several feet from the shield. He clutched a dagger in his right hand, the knuckle guard dripping blood from the recent blow.


    He shifted in his stance, holding his blade in front of him aggressively. ¡°Blood Joan will not be killing anybody,¡± a deep, distorted sound echoed out, sending shivers down my spine. Some kind of sound magic was distorting the voice, complimented perfectly by the dark attire and ominous metal mask. Several spheres of fire appeared around the phantom, casting the alleyway in a deep orange glow. ¡°Not if I can stop it.¡±


    The alleyway was tense like a bowstring, the surprise entrance stunning all there into silence and confusion.


    The first to move was Hofal, lunging forward with his axe in a cry. He swung it down fast at the striker who wielded a sword, causing him to hastily deflect the blow.


    And just like that, the alley erupted in a storm of magic.


    Toren Daen


    I finally intervened when it looked like the two runners¨Cwho had identical masks designed like the face of a rat¨Cseemed to be cornered. From what I could tell, these ¡®Rats¡¯--I couldn¡¯t tell if that was their actual name or an insult¨Chad been harrying local Bloods, with Joan being the most recent target. The young woman had claimed their group would ¡®succeed¡¯ later. Whatever that meant, it would be nothing good for Blood Joan.


    I had aimed for the shield of the group, who was clearly already worn out from freezing a moving river for the party to cross. Then, using a burst of telekinesis to accelerate my fall from the roof I had been observing from, I clocked the man in the chest with the knuckles of my dagger. I felt his mana barrier shatter and the metal creasing my fist impact the man¡¯s sternum.


    I restrained my blow enough so I didn¡¯t punch a hole through his ribs, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if his mana core was damaged.


    I almost pitied the man. I knew what it felt like to get slammed in the chest by something you couldn¡¯t see, shattering your bones.


    But he was with the Joans.


    ¡°Blood Joan will not be killing anybody,¡± I snarled, shifting the tone of my voice several steps sideways and into something that sounded inhuman. I concentrated on my magic, summoning a few fireballs around my head. I held my dagger in a reverse grip near my opposite ear. ¡°Not if I can stop it.¡±


    The first to actually capitalize on my opening was the larger Rat with the axe and buckler. He charged the sword-wielder with a cry of fury, but I had my own problems to worry about.


    The alleyway burst into action as two of the Joan men turned to face me. One drew a wicked-looking longsword from his side, a snarl on his face under a scraggly beard. The other was a shorter woman with a wand, already channeling mana to whatever spellforms she had.


    Not willing to give her the time, I sent my fireballs rocketing toward the caster in the rear. The striker with the sword tried to deflect as many as he could, swinging his blade in the narrow alleyway to dismiss my magic. The caster had to shift out of the way as one of the fireballs impacted the ground right next to her.


    The caster nearly finished her spell, but I was already in front of the striker with a burst of telekinesis. I brought my dagger in a sideways cut, coursing mana through the blade to enhance its edge and durability. The striker barely managed to bring his sword around to block, the resounding clang of metal reverberating up my arm. Before the man could retaliate, I coalesced a shroud of whirring sound around my left fist, swinging it in a hook aimed at his exposed side.


    Instead, an arc of wind curved around the striker, almost striking me in the temple. I had to awkwardly readjust my attack to bat away the wind, leaving me open to a downward chop from the recovered striker.


    I pushed off the striker in a flare of white telekinesis, blowing us both away with the force. I almost toppled over as I skidded back, but my opponent managed to keep his footing just barely. As he stumbled back, however, he knocked over the caster.


    Thinking quickly, I concentrated a grenade of sound into my hand. It shimmered like oil in the darkness, the light warped as it passed through. I threw the spell, then immediately jumped forward diagonally, aiming for the wall.


    Predictably, the striker tried to bat my spell away with his sword, something that was no doubt instinctual by that point. Instead, I closed my hand, commanding the spell remotely to detonate. It burst outward with a sound like a mallet striking a gong. I winced even with my strengthened ears, but the immediate radius of the blast was far louder than anywhere nearby.


    I hit the wall feet first, then rocketed in another jump to slide to a halt behind the disoriented duo. Spinning, I thrust a hand into my pouch, withdrawing a handful of rocks. Using my momentum, I threw the rocks with a burst of focused telekinesis.


    They shot off with the force of a shotgun blast, peppering the addled striker with a hail of stones. Tiny holes ripped open across his upper body, leaking small rivulets of blood. He stumbled back, yelling in pain as he tried to turn to face me.


    I rushed forward, fire coalescing around my fist. A burst of wind shot haphazardly from the caster, who was vomiting on the ground. I switched the grip on my dagger, then cut the spell in half with slight resistance. It wasn¡¯t nearly as powerful as it had been before, no doubt due to the woman¡¯s disorientation.


    I blurred past, looking the striker in the eyes just as he turned to face me. His expression was a rictus of pain and fear, one I relished as I drove my flame-clad fist into his gut.


    He doubled over, then collapsed onto the stone ground. I turned to the caster, who shivered as she tried to stand. I kicked her hard in the sternum, the tried and true method of rattling the mana core. She vomited once more before passing out.


    The other side of the battle was wrapping up as well in favor of the ¡®Rats.¡¯ Both of the escapees were still fighting, and the only one still standing against them was the tall man with scars on his arms. I considered intervening to help, but the idea was cut short as the young woman who had spoken before slid low behind the man, slashing at his heels with daggers of ice as he tried to fend off the axe-wielder.


    He predictably buckled, howling in pain. He didn¡¯t even have time to do that for long before the axe-wielder used the rim of his buckler to cave in his nose. The sword-wielder crumpled.


    I realized with a start that I was breathing rapidly, the adrenaline from my first fight running high. Forcefully composing myself, I sheathed my dagger and stared at the mages across from me.


    They both had masquerade masks designed to look like the snouts of rats, something that should be an insult to fashion. Somehow the duo pulled it off, even if they had small bleeding cuts here and there and were panting as hard as I had been.


    They watched me warily, not sheathing their weapons.


    Then the woman spoke up. ¡°Thank you for your help,¡± she said, a resolute timbre to her voice. ¡°That certainly would¡¯ve been harrowing without your aid. The brutes these Bloods call upon have been getting more and more feisty as we nip at their heels.¡± She bowed with a light flourish. ¡°I am called the Young Rat,¡± she said.


    I realized after a second that she was subtly asking for my own title. I had to think quickly. ¡°I call myself Dusk,¡± I replied, distorting my voice with sound magic. It wasn¡¯t as alien and strange as during my entrance, however. I looked over the bodies that were all now knocked unconscious. ¡°Is your group targeting Blood Joan?¡± I asked, the thought causing hope to rise in my chest.


    The man with the axe and shield had sheathed his weapons and was patting down the lead striker, searching his pockets and pouches. The woman continued to watch me, her posture shifting subtly. ¡°We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Dusk. We are called the Rats,¡± she said. ¡°We endeavor to liberate poor, defenseless coins from greedy masters.¡±


    Thieves, then? I tilted my head, looking them over once more. Did they fail to rob the Joans? ¡°You¡¯re awfully honest about being a thief,¡± I said, looking at the unconscious mages around us.


    ¡°Oh, we wouldn¡¯t call ourselves thieves,¡± she said dismissively. ¡°Money needs to be reinvested into the economy for it to work at all. That people hoard their wealth is against the spirit of a free market!¡± The axe-wielder began sifting through the pockets of their defeated foe. I frowned under my mask but didn¡¯t comment. ¡°Really, we should be paid for the service we provide.¡±


    The axe-wielder slipped a ring he had found in the striker¡¯s pocket onto his finger, then after a moment handed it to the Young Rat. She put it on, a slightly distant look in her eyes.


    Then she took it off, looking me up and down. ¡°But I have a question for you, dear Dusk. Do you wanna be a complication for the Joans?¡± she asked inquisitively, a conspiratorial glint flashing in her eyes behind her mask.


    I didn¡¯t answer.


    She smirked, seeing straight through my reluctance to reply. She held out her hand and a small tablet of ice began to shiver into existence above her palm. Then, it flashed with mana, appearing to be sucked into the ring. With a flourish, the Young Rat flipped the ring to me through the air. I caught it, glad that my mask veiled my surprise. ¡°That¡¯s got some good info. Think of it as thanks for taking out those goons, Dusk.¡±


    It was clearly a spatial storage ring of some sort. The ring was a boon beyond anything I had acquired thus far, and I had to fight to keep my heart rate from rising. This was worth more than everything I had bought so far combined.


    I pocketed the ring after a moment, not willing to check it yet. ¡°Thank you,¡± I replied earnestly. The Young Rat nodded with a smile.


    Then I pushed off the ground into the air, wall-jumping a few times to get to the roofs before vanishing into the night, the wry smile of the Young Rat the last thing I saw.

 Chapter 17: Speculation

    Naereni


    I watched Dusk bound up the wall of the building, his cloak trailing behind him. Once I was sure he was gone, I relaxed slightly.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s going to act on that info?¡± Hofal asked, rearranging his axe and buckler. He moved to the edge of the alleyway, tapping his foot on the ground lightly as he went.


    I thought over the past few minutes. Dusk, as he called himself, had very clear motives. ¡°The first thing he asked us about was if Blood Joan was in our sights,¡± I answered as I continued to mull over the scenario that lead us to this point. ¡°And he intervened only after I said the Rats would try the Joans again.¡± I twirled an ice dagger through my hands, an idle habit that helped me think. ¡°The man¡¯s got a bone to pick with the Joans.¡±


    ¡°Actually, he attacked that shield right after that striker said he would kill us all,¡± Hofal added, still tapping the ground. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He pressed his foot down on the brick, and a slight rumbling heralded a small passage opening in the middle of the street. ¡°And said ¡®Blood Joan wouldn¡¯t kill anybody while he was there.¡¯¡±


    I looked regretfully back at the bodies of the mages we¡¯d just defeated. One had a satin shirt, which was sure to be worth a few coins. Another had a sword that was clearly of good make, using mana beast materials. The lead striker Hofal and I fought actually had a silver necklace around his neck. I wondered what I could get for that?


    I had been distracted by my interaction with Dusk, so I didn¡¯t get the time to paw through their things. I could feel my lips pulling into a pout as I stared longingly at all those items.


    Hofal looked at me pointedly, making me sigh. I couldn¡¯t stay to nab even a few things.


    I dismissed the ice dagger as Hofal and I dropped down the shaft. I landed with a splash of water, ignoring the stench on my nose. The sewers under Fiachra weren¡¯t the most pleasant place, but that was what made them perfect for travel. I was glad I didn¡¯t have to use our last resort item to mask our presence. That was another thing I could thank Dusk for.


    ¡°You think he¡¯s from a rival Blood? Out to stall the Joans¡¯ interests?¡± I asked quietly as Hofal and I quickly traversed the sewers. It was well-known to both of us. We wouldn¡¯t get lost, even in the dark. ¡°He was pretty good in that scrap, from what I saw. Professionally trained?¡±


    Hofal was quiet for a moment. ¡°Maybe. He caught us all off guard there with that entrance. How much of his fight was the surprise and how much was skill?¡± I could just make out Hofal shaking his head. ¡°But he¡¯s probably not from one of Joan''s rivals. We¡¯ve spit in most of their faces, and any who openly support the Rats at this point will get attacked from all sides.¡±


    Hofal¡¯s thoughts made sense. Dusk was probably an independent, then. Or acting without the permission of his Blood.


    I frowned. ¡°Do you know what gave us away?¡± I asked quietly. We were practically done with the heist when some sort of alarm tripped. I had just unlocked the safe¨C


    Realization struck me like the tail of a barkskin grohd. ¡°Damn,¡± I bit out, interrupting whatever Hofal was going to say. ¡°The safe was probably baited all along. It was never meant to be opened.¡±


    A sour feeling arose in my gut. Karsien wouldn¡¯t fall for such a cheap trick, but I had. Maybe Kars would be able to point out how I¡¯d messed up if he could find the time.


    The big shield didn¡¯t miss a step, likely having reached the same conclusion long ago. ¡°We¡¯ll need to inform Karsien about this,¡± Hofal said, avoiding a particularly viscous bit of sewage. ¡°Blood Joan was expecting us.¡±


    I sighed, the wind taken out of my sails by the realization of my failure. ¡°Yeah, maybe. But we¡¯ve been on a bit of a spree lately. It makes sense they¡¯d see us coming. We keep succeeding! Can¡¯t be good for their image.¡±


    Hofal turned to me slightly. ¡°No, I think this was something different. They had an attack team ready for us. Their response was too quick. The moment you opened that chest, half the estate was waiting for us.¡±


    That didn¡¯t bode well. Because if the Company of the Rat had a leak of information, we¡¯d need to plug it before our entire ship went down.


    Toren Daen


    I skidded to a stop once I finally reached the outskirts of East Fiachra, a place I knew quite well. Huffing slightly from exertion, I took out the ring I had stashed in my pouch. It was a small band of silverish metal: unadorned with no distinguishing features. I slipped it onto a finger and then funneled a stream of my mana into it.


    A steady stream of information about the contents of the storage ring funneled into my mind, making my breath hitch. With a flux of mana, I pulled the small tablet of ice from the ring to my waiting palm. Etched into the ice were important notes here about several of Blood Joan¡¯s operations: specifically a few of the businesses they owned and used to finance themselves. There were a decent number of locations listed, but most were in West Fiachra.


    As I looked down on this boon of information, the past twenty minutes began to truly settle onto me like a heavy weight. I had revealed myself to Blood Joan inadvertently. I had fought their goons to protect the two Rats, and in the process lost much of my element of secrecy. The Joans would be wary of me now.


    And the way I was able to fight without a hint of hesitation. The ¡®me¡¯ from Earth would never be able to do that, never so easily punch and kick and slash at living, breathing people. But Toren¡­ Toren had been raised in the martial society of Alacrya, where weakness meant death. His entire upbringing he was taught that he would have to fight.


    I wasn¡¯t Toren; not exactly. Toren¡¯s childhood was not my own: we only became a single person at the intersection that was Norgan. But I found myself wishing in some depths of myself that I would¡¯ve faltered in that fight. That I would¡¯ve slipped and hesitated, if only because I was fighting people, not beasts.


    That would be familiar. It would be something that the ¡®me¡¯ from Earth would do, where the value of human life was understood to be the highest of things. To be so willing to fight proved to me on some level that I was far, far from Earth.


    The ice tablet in my hand was beginning to melt now that it was no longer suffused with the caster¡¯s mana. I hastily retrieved my notebook from my sling bag, writing the information down with quick movements in my personal cipher.


    When I was done, the structure of ice had finally transformed into water. I noted that it melted a great deal faster than ice would normally. Something about matter made from mana, perhaps?


    I looked down at my notebook, my gaze roving over the small scribbles of knowledge and possible futures. This book was to be the home of my plans and ideas for the future.


    But I had not written a single plan to get my revenge for Norgan.


    The full weight of my situation pressed down on me like a heavy blanket, causing my shoulders to slump. The reason there were no plans for my revenge was for the exact same reason I had no concrete plans for how I was going to kill Nico. I didn¡¯t know enough. I lacked the pieces required to make a scheme that would see me through.


    My scouting of the Joan estate was to fill in some of the pieces. Maybe I would catch how the guard patrols worked. Or perhaps I could decipher different entry points for the building. I could even figure out who was in the mansion at what time.


    But those were half-baked. I had a goal: revenge on Blood Joan. But what did that even entail? Destroy their businesses? Rip their livelihoods from the ground and break it under my feet?


    No, I thought. Maybe, I need only kill one person. The woman who slew Norgan: only she needs to die, whoever she is.


    I didn¡¯t think I had any right to judge when somebody deserved death, but that wasn¡¯t the basis of my actions. That woman had slain my brother, so I would kill her in turn. Simple as that.


    But even if I cemented my goal, I still needed information. I didn¡¯t even know the woman¡¯s name, only that she shadowed the ¡®scion of Blood Joan,¡¯ who was likely Lawris Joan, and that she had some sort of spellform that coated her body in lightning.


    The only information I had was given to me by the Young Rat, and I didn¡¯t know if I could trust that at all.


    But I didn¡¯t have much of a choice. My attempt at gathering information had been a bust, and I had revealed myself far too soon. There was no other avenue for information available.


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    I looked up at the stars, whose glow was muted by all the light about the nighttime city. My mask didn¡¯t restrict my eyesight in the slightest, allowing me to marvel at them just as I had in the Clarwood Forest. It seemed a wonder to me that something so beautiful could be in a world so full of death and destruction.


    I had found the resolve to kill the woman who had taken my brother from me. I wondered, then, was this some effect of Toren making me so willing to end another¡¯s life? Or did I always have this grim resolve, even back on Earth?


    ¡ª


    I slowly walked the streets of West Fiachra the next morning, strolling over waterways and watching men with their runes shown for all to see chatter with boatmen and merchants. The classic Alacryan tunic that had a split down the spine to display spellforms was gaudy, and as Arthur so eloquently put it, a great way to tell an enemy everything you were capable of. I was back in my gray-blue tunic now, with dark trousers and boots. For once, I didn¡¯t have my sling bag over my shoulder.


    All of my possessions, minus my dagger, were stored in the dimension ring the Young Rat had liberated from her foe. It wasn¡¯t particularly large: only enough for a small crate¡¯s worth of items. But that was more than enough for everything I owned. The unadorned silver ring was worn over my left thumb, standing out against the dark fingerless gloves I bought to conceal my chain tattoo.


    I was headed to a familiar building: the West Fiachra Library. I entered with a confident stride, surveying it once more. It was a remarkable structure: the multifloored sections of the building reminded me of some of the famous libraries of Earth. Same as last time, several students in uniforms wandered the place and studied in corners. That was also remarkably Earth-like, sending a pang of longing through me.


    I walked to the receptionist¡¯s desk again. The same boy from before was on shift now, and if possible he looked even more tired. His light brown hair was a disheveled mess and his glasses had slid down his nose. I hesitated to ask a question, realizing I could probably find what I was looking for if I tried hard enough and that the boy seemed to really need some rest. He seemed about to doze off as I watched him.


    He noticed me before I could make a decision, however. ¡°Ah, hello,¡± he said tiredly, fixing his glasses. ¡°What can I help you with today?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m wondering if you have a section for mana beasts native to the Clarwood Forest,¡± I said, scanning the sections again. ¡°I know some of the beasts native there, but not all.¡±


    The boy shot a glance at my hand, which was now covered by a glove. No doubt he remembered my tattoos. Then he nodded. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got a few books for that, but there are only a few that you can trust,¡± he said. ¡°And they¡¯re a bit difficult to find, even with directions.¡±


    He got up slowly from his seat, stretching a bit to work out the stiffness. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t have to help me,¡± I said hurriedly, feeling slightly guilty that the kid had been pulled from whatever he was doing. He needed a nap.


    The kid shook his head, moving away from his desk and gesturing me to follow. ¡°No worries. I can¡¯t afford to fall asleep, so moving just a little bit is bound to wake me up.¡±


    I followed behind a step. ¡°You seem in dire need of some coffee,¡± I said idly. ¡°Is working here so tiring?¡± I asked, partly in jest.


    The receptionist frowned at the word. ¡°Coffee?¡± he asked, confused.


    Oh, god, I thought in genuine pity. Did Alacrya not have coffee?! How did people function here?


    ¡°You could use something to wake you up,¡± I offered instead.


    The boy snickered slightly. ¡°No, I have another job that sometimes takes up my nights. Messes with my sleep a bit.¡± He turned slightly. ¡°I¡¯m Wade, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Toren,¡± I replied. I surveyed the general clientele of the library. Most were younger men and women, around Wade and I¡¯s respective ages. ¡°Have you worked here long?¡± I asked as we started to walk up a flight of stairs to the second level, bookshelves passing us by. He looked like he could be a student himself.


    Wade smiled tiredly, something that seemed a common thread for him. ¡°Only a couple of years. I love to read, I don¡¯t have to do too much, and the pay is good. What¡¯s not to love?¡± he said with a slight chuckle.


    ¡°I used to read so much,¡± I said a bit wistfully. One of the saddest things about transmigration to a different world was that I wouldn¡¯t get to read the endings of my favorite novels. ¡°I¡¯ll have to get back into the habit. Just let the hours drift by.¡±


    Though considering how one fantasy world I knew of turned out to be real, I was suddenly thinking of all my previous books with a lot more anxiety. Who knew how fictitious they really were?


    Wade nodded. ¡°Nothing quite like a good book to escape the monotony of life,¡± he said, turning a corner and passing some students who were in deep discussion over a paper.


    He stopped, gesturing to a section named ¡®Mana Beasts.¡¯ The shelves were subdivided into different columns, with one specifically marked ¡®Fiachra.¡¯ Wade picked out a couple of books in particular, showing them off to me.


    ¡°The Sehz-Clar Beastiary covers broader swathes of land than just Fiachra, but considering the size of the Clarwood Forest, there¡¯s a substantial section for all the mana beasts within,¡± he said holding one of the books in the air. Then he held another higher. ¡°The Beasts of the Clarwood Forest goes into much more detail than the Beastiary, but some of the information is slightly outdated. It won¡¯t affect you too much, but just something to keep in mind.¡±


    I nodded gratefully. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said as he handed the books to me. I briefly surveyed the other books in the section before turning back to Wade. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have a library card,¡± I said a bit sheepishly. ¡°Would I be able to sign up for one?¡±


    Wade nodded, fixing his glasses once more. The rings under his eyes seemed almost as dark as a black eye. ¡°That you can, Toren. If you¡¯d follow me back to the front desk, I can get you registered.¡±


    We made our way back to the desk, where Wade practically melted back into his chair. ¡°I¡¯ll just need a name and date of birth,¡± he said. ¡°And your card will be ready in a minute or two.¡± He began to fuss with some sort of artifact, likely designed for creating library cards.


    ¡°June 12, 1719,¡± I said, rattling off Toren¡¯s birthdate. I hesitated, then continued. ¡°And Toren is fine.¡±


    Wade looked up from the device, quirking a brow. ¡°No Blood name?¡± he asked.


    I didn¡¯t see judgment in his eyes, but not having a Blood name was a mark of great shame in Alacryan society. They called you unblooded, as if the very liquid in your veins was stripped from you. ¡°None,¡± I said evenly.


    Wade just nodded, continuing to fidget with the device. Then, he lifted a familiar sphere-like object to me. It was nearly entirely see-through and several wires threaded it to the artifact in Wade¡¯s other hand. I took it, remembering a device that looked exactly like it from when I bought my dagger. ¡°Do I just imbue this with mana?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Wade replied. ¡°That¡¯s the final activation cue. After that, your card is printed and you¡¯re good to go.¡±


    Following the instruction, I funneled a sliver of mana into the construct. As before, I felt the device react to my mana as it filled with a slight grey substance. When it stopped drinking in slivers of my energy, I cut the flow.


    Wade handed me a card a second later, printed with my name and the letters ¡®West Fiachra Library Card¡¯ emblazoned across the front with a bookish design. I couldn¡¯t tell what material it was made of: certainly plastic-like, but it had a texture almost like wood.


    ¡°Those two books are already loaned out on that card,¡± Wade said, sinking into his seat. ¡°They¡¯re yours for two weeks. Make sure to return them on time. The late fees can kill.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for your help, Wade,¡± I said earnestly, storing the books and the card in my dimension rune.


    ¡°No problem, Toren,¡± he said, closing his eyes briefly. ¡°I hope to see you again. Reading is always the best cure for boredom.¡±


    I walked away with a chuckle. ¡°That it is.¡±


    ¡ª


    I was camping on the roof of a worn-out building on the outskirts of East Fiachra. As I didn¡¯t have a set home, this was the closest thing to shelter I could manage. The building was rarely used as far as I could tell, so I doubted anyone would pop up to shoo me off. I had a little area used for lighting fires and a small bedroll that I laid under a stone overhang to protect me from the rain. I would need to find some solution for bathing, but if worst came to worst I could just wash in the stream again.


    I had observed both my old apartment building and the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild from a distance, worried that Blood Joan would¡¯ve done something to them and also longing for familiar faces and times. Thankfully I couldn¡¯t notice anything especially amiss, but I didn¡¯t dare to check further.


    That set some of my fears to rest, but I still couldn¡¯t simply go back to living in the apartment.


    I withdrew the Sehz-Clar Beastiary from my dimension ring, carefully avoiding damaging the cover. It was a nice hardcover book, with a design of an unfamiliar mana beast painted across the front. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Opening it up, I searched through the chapter list until I found the one I wanted: the Clarwood Forest. Flipping to that chapter, I skimmed through the pages after it. I saw familiar sights: skaunters, barkskin grohds, the flying apes¨Cwhich were apparently called drift apes¨Cand many more I had caught glimpses of in the forest. My hand stopped once I found my target.


    On the page was a detailed illustration of a giant insect with a wicked sharp stinger and malicious, multifaceted eyes. Instead of a familiar yellow and black, it was colored a mixture of dark green and brown, giving it camouflage instead of blending in. The title was an ¡®acidbeam hornet,¡¯ which was disturbingly accurate.


    These were the top predators of the deep Clarwood Forest. These insects were easy to dispatch one at a time: even several at once could be taken down with little difficulty. But when they attacked, they never attacked in small numbers. These things were as big as my head and worked in massive hives. According to the book, they operated on a hivemind that was linked through their queen. It allowed near seamless teamwork and coordination for the many-legged bastards when within a certain radius of their hivemother.


    I knew how dangerous they could be. I once had the displeasure to watch them swarm a group of drift apes after I sent off a loud sound grenade.


    Ever since then, I rarely ever used my sound grenades in the deep forest, fearing to draw the attention of these buzzing bastards. Because they didn¡¯t come in ones and twos. They swarmed, and could projectile fire acid from their stingers. The only good option was to run.


    But the reason I was researching this was simple: according to the info provided by the Young Rat, in a few days the Joans would be sending an expeditionary force to raid one of their ¡®hives.¡¯


    And apparently, some very powerful members of Blood Joan would be participating.

 Chapter 18: Steps

    Toren Daen


    I began my preparations later that day. The expedition would be leaving in two days in the early afternoon out the South Gate. I planned to reach the forest ahead of them and lie in wait, but I knew I needed to hone some of my magic beforehand.


    Namely, what skills I could use for stealth. Perhaps I should have done this before charging toward the Joan estate, but I never planned on getting in any way close last night. But if I wanted to trail a group of mages with powerful escorts, I needed to be quiet and stealthy. Even in the depths of the Clarwood Forest, I maintained a moderate level of stealth. I fought more often than I hid when it came to the treetops, something that couldn¡¯t be done now.


    I began by walking slowly across the rooftop in the early afternoon, listening to the slight tip-tap of my feet on the cobbles as I moved. I drank in the sound, my mana-enhanced ears absorbing every vibration they could.


    My two mana affinities were fire and sound. I took naturally to fire: it was energy in one of its purest natural expressions: chemical reactions and the burning of fuel. It was heat: atoms rubbing together to generate friction. My fire spells came to me intuitively after a small amount of practice, the understanding clicking in my brain subconsciously amidst everything else I knew.


    But sound magic was where my understanding truly shined. It was difficult to explain how intuitive working with sound mana was; certainly more so than fire. I felt like if I tried hard enough, I could hear the mana itself. Every push and pull of mana seemed to create some sort of resonance that only I could hear.


    And so I was trying to test out a new spell. It wasn¡¯t one of my template spells: those were for quick, efficient use in combat. This was a utility spell, something I sorely lacked. I wouldn¡¯t be able to deploy it in a split second or focus it with awesome power, but that wasn¡¯t what I needed.


    I was going to completely eliminate the sound of my steps. But to do that, I needed to understand how that sound was made; how it traveled through the atmosphere. I had to know how sound mana reacted to the vibrations in the air.


    Feeling confident, I focused my intent, drawing a flow of mana from my core. I could change the pitch and octave of sounds easily enough by now: I used that to alter my voice as Dusk. The next step should be relatively simple: instead of changing the octave three steps diagonally, lower the volume. I sent my will out as a spell and took a hesitant step, waiting for the tap of a boot on stone.


    I still heard my footfall, and to my credit, it was far quieter than before. The problem, however, was that it resounded out in a way that sounded something between a DJ¡¯s reverb and sheet metal wobbling in the wind. Even that sound was quiet, but far more noticeable because of how long it lasted.


    I snorted. That was kind of amusing. I would just have to try again.


    ¡ª


    I was not amused by the time I finally managed to muffle every single step I took consistently near the end of the evening. It would take practice over the next couple of days as the passive application of mana required significant concentration, but I hoped the spell would reach a manageable level of mental focus soon enough.


    Practicing with magic in a safer setting than the deep Clarwood Forest allowed me to do some more concrete testing. I could only maintain several spells at a time right now before splitting my attention became too difficult and one of them collapsed, sputtering out or exploding on the wind. Some were more difficult than others, of course: spells that lingered or required constant attention like the sound muffling spell took more focus and mana than a couple of fireballs.


    A single push and pull with my telekinesis crest took barely any mana at all, but the longer I held the effect and the more force I tried to use, the more strain I felt on my mind and my core. The maximum I could hold a push or pull differed depending on how much force I was exerting, too. Ultimately, I knew I needed to practice and hone every aspect of my magic. But there was one in particular where I was seeing great returns.


    My ¡®template casting¡¯ method of visualization was an amazing fusion of the Alacryan and Dicathian spellcasting methods.


    Alacryan runes provided power without insight, at least initially. For instance, I still wasn¡¯t entirely sure how my telekinetic pushes and pulls used mana to affect the world, but I could use it anyway. As I figured it out, I would grow in power, but I was limited to what my rune was designed for. The spellforms also offloaded some of the mental strain required to maintain spells, which was absurdly useful. The rune essentially acted as a funnel, strengthening the effect as it went through. But runes lacked in versatility; locked into their intended purpose.


    Dicathian magic was dependent entirely on a mage¡¯s understanding and insight. If you had less than adequate knowledge of mana, you couldn¡¯t cast a spell. In terms of power, Dicathian spellcasting paled in comparison to the Alacryan runes. But it made up for that in sheer versatility: as long as you understood what mana could do, you could do anything.


    With my template casting, I could make as many ¡®spellforms¡¯ in my mind as I desired, as long as I had the initial insight and understanding to cast the spell myself. I would have to bear the full brunt of the spell on my mind, but it would be more focused and powerful than most Dicathian mages could manage. And Alacryans had to cross their fingers and hope with every Bestowment Ceremony for their next rune, while I could add more pseudo-spellforms as I learned. My method might not quite have the power of Alacryan runes. It might not quite have the versatility of Dicathian magic. But it was a perfect middle ground.


    As the night began to take over the sky, I sat in front of my small fire, taking shelter in the warmth. As it flickered and popped, I pushed and pulled on the fire mana coalescing around the flame. The mana weaved and danced in an imitation of tongues of fire to my senses. Or was fire a mere imitation of mana?


    There were probably philosophical debates about that across the world. Which came first? The element, or the mana affinity?


    These amusing thoughts lulled me to sleep, the pleasant warmth soothing my nerves.


    Lawrent Joan


    I read through another stack of parchment pertaining to Blood Joan¡¯s preparations for the acidbeam hornet nest harvest. I signed my name in a messy crawl, finalizing the purchase of some low-tier beastwards. They were incredibly expensive but necessary to efficiently take down something as dangerous as a nest.


    The paper from their hives was rich in mana, considering the insectoid mana beasts formed it from the native mana-infused clarwood trees. When powdered, it became an essential ingredient in many high-class elixirs, artifacts, and more due to its unique properties. But the greatest use of the nest paper granted profit far beyond anything else. Not very many people knew of the paper¡¯s best use, which was what my Blood harvested it for. Through acidbeam paper, the path to true wealth opened.


    Though our usual supplier of acidbeam paper had recently run out, causing me to hastily put together this expedition. I stewed on the extra cost, but sacrifices had to be made to create our product.


    My study was sparse and bare, except for the lighting artifacts around the room set to a low burn. The shadows helped focus me on what needed to be done for the night.


    I looked up from my desk as three crisp knocks resounded on the hardwood of my study door. I waited a moment, then answered. ¡°State your business.¡±


    A feminine voice spoke from behind the door. ¡°We have developments on the escaped Rats.¡±


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    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Enter,¡± I said at last.


    Kaelan strode in slowly, her steps measured and sure. Her sandy-blonde hair¨Csomething all of Blood Joan shared¨Cwas cut short. She claimed it made covering it for covert missions easier. Several steps behind her, Dornar loped at a more casual pace.


    I watched them from behind my desk, not yet setting down my pen. Papers and ledgers for the upcoming Clarwood Forest expedition needed to be finalized, and they waited for no one.


    Kaelan stopped a respectable distance from me, ever cognizant of her position in the family. Dornar leaned against a bookshelf, displaying less decorum than I would care to see.


    ¡°Head,¡± Kaelan said, bowing slightly.


    ¡°Sister,¡± I responded. Dornar smirked, but didn¡¯t speak. ¡°What news do you have that bares interrupting me?¡±


    ¡°As you know, we laid a trap for the Rats the night before last,¡± she said, steel gray eyes meeting my own for a moment. ¡°They managed to escape the grounds.¡±


    I nodded for her to continue. ¡°There were two of those slum Rats,¡± Kaelan continued. ¡°And five of our men. One of our better-trained squads,¡± she continued. ¡°Yet every single member of the squad was incapacitated. Some were more wounded than others, but all were taken down.¡±


    I set my pen down and moved the papers from my desk to the side, finally giving Kaelan my full attention. ¡°The question was how. Have you discovered why?¡±


    We had been prepared for the break-in with a well-armed force to apprehend the Rats. That they escaped the estate wasn¡¯t unexpected, but instead of reporting back, the strike team was found in their own blood and badly hurt.


    ¡°I had suspicions when I saw the bodies,¡± Kaelan said, her eyes gleaming slightly. ¡°But it was confirmed recently. One of the men woke up: one of our casters. She had valuable information.¡± Kaelan paused, thinking about her next words. ¡°Do you remember the incident two months ago where the young scion¡­ injured himself?¡±


    I tilted my head, not seeing the direction this was going. But Kaelan was dutiful: I knew that if she was changing the topic, it was only to provide needed context. I snorted in distaste. ¡°Lawris was a fool for the actions he took,¡± I said, speaking my mind on the matter. I had done so many times, but my own spawn¡¯s ineptitude never failed to burn me. ¡°His mission was to covertly root out supporters of the Rats in the dregs of East Fiachra,¡± I sneered. ¡°To find more information. He failed utterly, defeated by two slum mages himself. A training mission to teach him the benefits of subtlety and stealth and he failed every single point.¡±


    Kaelan shifted slightly. ¡°Yes¡­ That operation was supposed to go off without a hitch. But in the middle of interrogating a suspect, he was interrupted by two young mages. They worked brilliantly as a team and overwhelmed him with ease.¡± Kaelan peered up at me once more. ¡°They recognized the sigil of Blood Joan, so I interfered. We can¡¯t leave traces there, after all.¡± A look I couldn¡¯t read crossed my sister¡¯s face. ¡°I slew one of the boys, but left the other alive.¡±


    A bark of laughter made me slowly turn to Dornar. ¡°Don¡¯t forget, dear sister, what those boys did to you!¡± the youngest brother chided. ¡°You weren¡¯t exactly gentle with them after that!¡±


    Dornar liked picking fights, but a raised brow from me silenced his amusement. It did not wipe it away, however. Kaelan ground her teeth near audibly, anger thrumming through her before she steadied herself. ¡°Indeed. One of the mages, a boy with a sort of telekinesis rune, managed to wound me.¡±


    I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk and steepling my fingers. For this to happen was surprising: Kaelan¡¯s few Emblems made her one of the support pillars of Blood Joan as a whole, along with her extensive combat experience. For her to be hurt by a street mage was no small thing. ¡°How did this happen?¡± I demanded, steel in my voice.


    ¡°He fired metal at me, faster than I was ready to react. It got through my lightning cloak. Once he damaged me, I ended the other boy as soon as he attacked me again,¡± Kaelan replied. ¡°The fight was effectively over afterward.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, not missing the hidden implication. ¡°You let the telekinesis user live?¡± I asked calmly. One who had spilled the Blood of Joan shouldn¡¯t be allowed to walk so freely. Lawris had only recently recovered from his wounds, whining about his Blood being tarnished and his pride stained.


    Dornar spoke up again, his amusement palpable. ¡°Our dear sister likes to pretend she¡¯s all protocol, but she has a wicked streak a mile long,¡± he said with a winning smile. ¡°Apparently, she knifed the kid¡¯s brother in front of him. The boy lost all will to fight after watching his poor sibling bleed out all over him.¡±


    Kaelan was glaring at Dornar with barely restrained fire. ¡°I figured he would make a proper challenge for the scion to destroy,¡± she bit out. ¡°I had been wounded by him, yes, but the scion was the first to be hurt. Retribution was his to take when he healed.¡±


    Dornar smirked. ¡°From what I heard, the boy was practically broken after you killed his brother,¡± my own brother said. ¡°We both know the real reason you let him live. Dying was too much of a mercy for the kid. Admit it, sis: you¡¯re a vindictive bitch.¡±


    Dornar was in charge of Blood Joan¡¯s information network, so it made sense that he knew so much. But between Dornar¡¯s prods of our sister¡¯s short temper and the straying of the topic, my patience was wearing thin. Kaelan opened her mouth to retort, venom writ across her face.


    ¡°Enough,¡± I snapped, flaring my mana to accentuate my irritation. ¡°Tell me the point of this. No more petty fighting,¡± I said. Both Kaelan and Dornar settled, their squabbles stalled for now. ¡°How does this tie into the failed assault on the Rats?¡±


    ¡°The telekinesis user used an attack that opened a very distinct pattern of wounds across the scion¡¯s body,¡± Kaelan said. ¡°Like a dozen holes poked into his back. Very few spells have that kind of mark. And one of our strikers emerged last night with the exact same wounds. The caster that recently awoke told us that once they cornered the Rats, another figure dropped from the roofs, knocking out their shield. Then he worked with the Rats to eliminate our task force from two sides.¡±


    I growled lowly. ¡°So this boy is one of the Rats?¡± I said. The Rats had been a plague on the Bloods of Fiachra for the past year, looting and stealing from half of the lower Bloods of the city. They had gained a reputation for success. But they were a scourge to all that was civilized and needed to be put down. Especially since, according to Dornar¡¯s latest reports, they appeared to be targeting our¡­ enterprises. ¡°What is his name, and why isn¡¯t he dead yet?¡±


    Kaelan seemed to hesitate for a step. ¡°His name is Toren of Named Blood Daen, Head,¡± my sister replied. ¡°And he left the city a day after his brother¡¯s death. We thought he never intended to return.¡±


    The rest of my sister¡¯s sentence faded away as the name rang about in my head. Daen.


    My father had eliminated Named Blood Daen in a masterstroke of political maneuvering three decades ago. After the Daens had misstepped in their support of the Sehz-Clarian war against Vechor, they had been left vulnerable and exposed. Our Blood, a small family at the time, took the first step in cementing their rise to power by wiping out the old Named Blood.


    But when you put down a dog, you do not allow its pups to bite you. You leave no chance for them to break your skin. You burn the litter with the mother. The fact that survivors of Blood Daen existed at all was unacceptable. That the survivors wounded my son, no matter how much of a wretch he was, demanded fire and death in return.


    ¡°How did this happen?¡± I asked, staring hard at Dornar. He was our chief of information. He should¡¯ve known if a remnant of our old enemies lived and done something about it. ¡°Tell me why I should not have you punished.¡±


    Dornar shrugged, but I could see the slightly unnerved look in his eyes. ¡°From the records we have, it seems Pops knew a young girl managed to avoid the massacre he planned. He searched for her for years after, but didn¡¯t manage to find her.¡± Dornar shook his head. ¡°Our networks were always the weakest in East Fiachra, with all the unads and useless vagrants prowling about. We didn¡¯t know she managed to reproduce until about two months ago.¡±


    I quietly seethed. If it got out to any of our rivals that an old, defeated foe had managed to humiliate the next Head of Blood Joan, our reputation would plummet to the ground. The amount of influence we would lose¡­


    ¡°Make sure no word of this incident leaves this room,¡± I reiterated. I had given the order the first time I learned of my spawn¡¯s incident, but it was doubly true now. Kaelan nodded, but Dornar huffed. I stared at him until he relented.


    ¡°Fine, boss.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°Do we have any more information on the Rats, other than this new member?¡± I asked, still angered by the setback we had taken last night. Our trap had almost caught them, the same as Named Blood Daen had been ensnared so many years ago.


    Dornar shook his head. ¡°These are the things you gotta take slow,¡± he said with a lazy smile. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I knew they¡¯d attack us eventually, dear brother. Just watch and wait.¡± Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I looked back to my desk. Blood Joan¡¯s finances were thinner than I desired; the war against the Dicathian savages sapped many of our resources. And our resources for our premium products were running thin. Instead of buying the acidbeam paper through an intermediary, as was the custom, Blood Joan was forced to try to acquire the substance ourselves.


    ¡°See that you know something more by the next time I call on you,¡± I said, dismissal clear in my tone. As my siblings shuffled out¨CKaelan with a respectful nod and Dornar with a bow that was dangerously close to mocking¨CI couldn¡¯t help but ruminate over the future. Turbulent times were ahead, and as always, Blood Joan would scrabble and claw to the top.

 Chapter 19: The Depths of the Forest

    Toren Daen


    I crouched on the roof of a building near the South Gate soon after the sun rose, listening intently to the sounds of early hustle and bustle. South Fiachra was the smallest district in the city: barely a few blocks stretching out from the southernmost gate. It was mainly home to a number of warehouses, shipping businesses, and boatyards. That made sense: the mighty Sehz River stretched from the borders of the Central Dominion, through Fiachra, skirted the edges of the Clarwood Forest, then opened into the sea.


    While most of Alacrya¡¯s major cities were connected by teleportation gates and tempus warps, sea access was still invaluable. Half of Alacrya¡¯s major population centers were directly on the coast, with Fiachra essentially acting as a coastal city with the Sehz River as transport. Many villages lined the sides of the Sehz, the running water acting as an artery for people living anywhere nearby.


    South Fiachra was also where expeditions into the Clarwood Forest usually set out. The Joans were set to arrive any minute now.


    I had mastered muffling my steps to a far better degree than when I started a couple of days ago. I was confident I made no sound with each of my footfalls. I was also wearing my Dusk getup: the mask and dark clothing helping me blend into the shadows of the rooftop overhang I crouched underneath.


    I was pulled from my thoughts by the rattle of wooden wheels on cobblestone. Glancing over the wall, I spotted four uncovered carts being hauled by horse-like mana beasts. I said horse-like because I could just barely feel mana eddying around them: wind mana, if I was correct. They had a sort of greenish sheen across their coats and small horns curling backward from their skulls.


    The men in the carts were garbed in standard battle attire: loose robes, some armor, and all had weapons. There were about two scores of people across all the carts. I could sense mana from about a third of them: the rest were outfitted in gear that was clearly lower quality. I frowned in confusion. There were two reasons I wouldn¡¯t be able to sense a mage¡¯s mana core: theirs was at a higher purity or they had no mana at all.


    Before I could contemplate the implications anymore, one of the mages¨Ca skinnier man with dark hair¨Cturned toward the side, his gaze trained up nearly toward where I was. I ducked low, cutting off my line of sight. That one¡¯s senses were keener than the rest, something I would have to watch out for.


    The carts had the sigil of Blood Joan stamped on them, though: I knew these were my targets.


    After a few minutes, I peeked my head over once more. The carts had ferried out the main gate, following the road that ran alongside the Sehz River. As the tall Fiachran gates closed, I slowly lost sight of my quarry. But that didn¡¯t matter: I knew where they were going.


    ¡ª


    I hopped along the clarwood trees in the chill late-morning air, my steps making not a single sound as I swung and bounded from bough to bough. I dodged a branch draping white leaves, correcting my midair course with a slight push of telekinesis. I landed deftly on the next branch, several yards from the treeline. Strengthening my vision with mana, I could just see the Joan mages slowly disembarking from their carts. They milled about on the river road, gearing up for their trek through the forest.


    I took special note of the small boxes a couple of the men carried: they were very ornately decorated and were carried by those with the strongest mana signatures. Each was colored black with red trim along the edges. There was something important in those boxes, but I didn¡¯t know what.


    I watched from my perch as the men assumed a roughly circular formation. There were about forty of them, with the men and women I couldn¡¯t sense mana from on the outside. As they began to walk towards the forest, I pulled as much mana as I could into myself, masking my signature the best I could. The leaves of the clarwood trees¨Ccolored white this close to winter¨Cdidn¡¯t provide my dark clothing the best cover. I stuck closer to the trunks of the trees, hiding in the deeper shade they provided.


    The trees were spaced farther apart this close to the edge of the forest, so the forty men had a relatively easy time so far. I sensed a few skaunters around the edges of my senses, but the rat-lizards had enough sense not to attack a heavily armed convoy. I watched from above, waiting for them to get farther ahead before I followed. After all, leaping from tree to tree wasn¡¯t subtle.


    But neither was the convoy. They were loud, stamping through the forest with the rattle of weapons and armor. It wasn¡¯t difficult to trail them: they left trampled earth wherever they went. I wasn¡¯t a tracker by any means, but moving forty men and women stealthily was near impossible in their conditions.


    One of the mages¨Cthe one with especially good senses who had nearly spotted me earlier¨Cspoke to a woman with an ornate wand, gesturing to a nearby tree. Following the sentry¡¯s¨Cfor that was what he had to be¨Cinstructions, the woman took aim at a nearby tree. I watched as she sniped a barkskin grohd out of a tree from afar with a bullet of water. The long-tailed lizard tumbled from its perch, making no sound as it crashed to the ground.


    Another reason to keep a bit of distance. I would probably have only one shot to do what I needed.


    This continued on for several hours, and I noticed some of the men starting to flag. The convoy was keeping a brisk pace, and with the armor and gear each man had, no matter their wear, it had to be quite heavy.


    Eventually, near mid-afternoon, a man near the center of the formation was forced to call a halt to the progress. I guessed he was the leader of this expedition considering his well-crafted armor and placement in the convoy. I watched some men drop in relief, massaging their legs and working feeling back into their limbs.


    Taking quick note of the sentry, I was glad to realize he wasn¡¯t close to the leader. I edged closer on the treetops until I was nearly above the man. I couldn¡¯t strike yet; that would have to wait until nightfall. But I could learn more about these people by listening in.


    The leader was a taller man with a full-face helmet and an ornate spear secured to his back. He was covered in sparse armor, but light enough to be able to trudge through the foliage that was yet to come.


    I watched one of the mages¨Cthe woman who had been clearing barkskin grohds for the travelers¨Cmarch up to the leader. With my ears enhanced by magic, I was able to eavesdrop on their conversation, even forty feet above them.


    ¡°Vaelum,¡± the woman said in greeting, brushing a lock of chestnut brown hair out of her eyes. ¡°Why are we stopping?¡± she asked, glancing at the weary men with obvious disdain. ¡°Because they want to?¡±


    ¡°Meera,¡± he said in reply. ¡°I called a halt because the men need rest if they are to perform their duty. Joan invested a lot into this venture, so we won¡¯t let it fail.¡±


    Meera looked back at the huffing men. ¡°Useless unads. Why does Blood Joan even make us bother with them? We should have an entire team of mages for this, not useless vritra-spurned.¡±


    The leader, Vaelum, pulled his teammate to the side, speaking in a whisper. I enhanced my ears even further, adding a bit of sound magic to try and amplify the noise for me even further. ¡°Joan is having some tough times right now, Meera. They¡¯re being pressured by a few other Bloods harshly. This expedition? Instead of a full contingent of mages, we get these manaless men,¡± he hissed. ¡°They can¡¯t afford to lose any more mages, so these fools are going into the meat grinder instead.¡±


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    I sucked in a breath, finally realizing why I couldn¡¯t sense mana from nearly two-thirds of the contingent. They simply weren¡¯t mages. How did they expect these men to survive at all? The depths of the Clarwood Forest nearly ate me alive, with its many dangers and traps. And the treetops were safer than the ground.


    These men were going to die.


    Meera sniffed. ¡°There¡¯s not much else they can do. It''s a waste of mana to defend them,¡± she said dismissively. She ran a hand over one of the red-trimmed boxes that hung at her side. ¡°You know we can¡¯t let the help rest long. These beastwards won¡¯t last long now that they¡¯ve been removed from containment.¡±


    Vaelum shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ll get a couple more minutes, then that''s it. It''s true beastwards won¡¯t last through the night, so we need to reach the nest before then,¡± he shrugged. ¡°But like it or not, we¡¯re stuck with the unads. We work with what we¡¯ve got.¡±


    Their conversation shifted to more mundane topics afterward, but I felt my focus wavering. I leaned back against my tree, mind awhirl with what I had just heard. I had assumed the convoy would stop for a night before reaching the deeper forest. After all, if you wanted to tackle an acidbeam hornet nest, you¡¯d better be well-rested. But something was making them hurry: something called a ¡®beastward.¡¯


    Probably whatever was in those ornate red-trimmed boxes.


    But something even more significant was on my mind. Most of the people in this caravan were unads: unadorned. People with no mark, crest, emblem, or regalia. Non-mages.


    They hadn¡¯t been attacked yet because of their numbers and the fact that the most dangerous mana beasts around here were barkskin grohds. Once they got closer to the interior, where the foliage would be up to their chests and they would have to fight and cut their way through every inch of land, these people would drop like flies.


    My hand flexed, digging into the leather of my fingerless gloves. One thing that both Toren and I had in common was our desire to help people. Whether that was to be accepted or out of genuine selflessness, we both wanted to be of use to the people in our lives. That drive to help was what led Toren to work for the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. It was what pushed him to intervene when Duena was being beaten.


    It was what drove me to help the Rats several days ago.


    But in each of those situations, I had the power to help. But here, I couldn¡¯t end every mana beast that crossed this expedition¡¯s path. I couldn¡¯t cut away every bramble and bush blocking their way.


    This also threw my other plans into question. My initial idea was to ambush the leader during the night and whittle information from him about Blood Joan¡¯s members, structure, interests, and more. I had thought the group would camp for a night before heading deeper into the forest: after all, they needed to keep their strengths up if they wanted to assault an acidbeam hornet¡¯s nest. But if they were going to just keep pushing, that option went out the window.


    I thumped my head against the tree, dread and disgust pooling in my stomach.


    ¡ª


    I saw the edge far before any of the convoy did. There was an almost distinct border within the Clarwood Forest before it became the ¡®deep forest.¡¯ The clarwood trees began to get noticeably taller and thicker. The foliage sprouted from the ground like grasping hands, coiling upwards to reach the minuscule bits of sunlight the white-leafed canopy let through. The ambient sounds of the forest¨Cbirdsong, crickets chirping, the whoosh of wind through the branches¨Cbecame deeper, almost aware of the difference. It was an ominous shift: once you crossed a particular line, you were in dangerous territory.


    The leader, Vaelum if I remembered correctly, called a halt a short while before the crossover. I couldn¡¯t see much of his features behind his helmet, but he seemed determined and resolute. The clanking of armor and weapons slowly quieted as the two score men slowly shuffled to a stop.


    ¡°We¡¯re about to enter the deep forest!¡± Vaelum called, peering at the men and women around him. ¡°We¡¯ve had it easy so far. Skaunters, grohds, slipstream birds, and other weak mana beasts. Now we¡¯re going to be facing real danger,¡± he said. I noticed many of the non-mages shuffling in place, clearly nervous. ¡°We¡¯re going to be cutting a short path to the acidbeam hornet nest,¡± he continued, ignoring the discomforted crowd. ¡°And then we¡¯ll use the beastwards to knock out their nest without trouble. Simplicity itself.¡±


    He waited a moment, but nobody spoke up. The light was already starting to fail: partly because it was late afternoon, and partly because this part of the forest devoured light greedily. ¡°Our numbers will safeguard us against most threats,¡± he said. ¡°Any others will be taken down by our mages. Are we clear?¡± sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A few halfhearted ¡®ayes¡¯ and ¡®yes¡¯ rang through the crowd, tension clear in their manner and tone. Vaelum looked uncertain for a moment but banished it quickly.


    The circular formation of men and women was forced into a narrower, longer line when they entered the forest. It was a brutal slog as the non-mages in front cut through plants, small trees, and shrubs. They had to fight for every inch they trekked, and several times a man was taken down by a hidden beast before the mages could rush to his aid.


    I could only watch, guilt and anxiety suffusing my being as I crouched high above. I wasn¡¯t responsible for these men¡¯s deaths, I knew. Blood Joan was at fault for sending unadorned people into a mana beast-infested forest.


    The men were getting more and more unnerved. The only light available now was conjured by handheld lighting artifacts, creating small pockets of luminescence. It was a small beacon of safety in a sea of danger.


    I could almost smell the fear from where I was, many feet above. I had become numb to the darkness of the forest, but that was also because I avoided the ground at all costs. The canopy wasn¡¯t so crowded and claustrophobic, boxing you in and herding you towards inevitable doom.


    Evidently, mana beasts could smell fear, too. A man got pulled into the darkness by the lash of something too quick to make out, a guttural yell tracing back into the deep green of the underbrush. His screams sent a ripple through everybody in the convoy, but when they suddenly cut off was when the nerves heightened.


    The men were getting more and more nervous. So far, no mages had fallen, but I counted six dead among the unadorned. I clenched my teeth, flicking my gaze to the sentry, who was consulting a map hurriedly. He was huddled close to Meera, the water bullet caster, and directing the company every now and then. It seemed they knew where they were going, at least.


    I heard something approaching swiftly from the trees, gliding towards the convoy in a smooth and steady dive. The near-silent whoosh of air made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I startled on my branch, tensing in anticipation. I turned towards the oncoming beast, already knowing what it was.


    Several crow-like mana beasts were watching from far above, more landing around. They looked similar to the corvids of my past life, except they were as big as my torso with white feathers. And there were about a dozen of them, all staring down at the convoy with beady eyes. I knew these bastards: they would swoop down, picking up straggling prey from the forest''s floor before hauling it into the canopy. From the Fiachran Bestiary, I knew they were called glintfeathers.


    None of the mages were looking up, and the sentry was preoccupied with pointing out mana beasts on the ground. They were going to be ambushed. Badly.


    Thinking quickly, I funneled mana into my dimension ring. I pulled out a sizable stone the size of a baseball. Angling myself on my branch, I lined up my shot, then threw with a healthy dose of telekinesis. My arm tingled slightly from the pushback.


    The stone punched a bloody hole through one of the glintfeathers, staining its white feathers with splatters of red. It squawked weakly, then toppled off its branch. The other birds flapped in surprise, taken by surprise by one of their flock¡¯s sudden death.


    The squawks¨Cplus the fallen body of a white bird-like mana beast¨Calerted the mages on the ground that something was wrong in the trees. I pressed myself close to my clarwood tree as shouts and spellfire began to fly, the barrage of deadly mana projectiles gleaming in my senses as they barreled toward the birds in the canopy.


    It wasn¡¯t long before most of the glintfeathers were dead. With their element of surprise gone, they stood very little chance against the mage¡¯s spells.


    The attack rattled the expedition members even further. I watched them murmur and panic from afar, now shooting terrified eyes toward the treetops. The darkness sapped their courage; only the strength of the mages nearby bolstered their frayed nerves.


    But now I had to trail even further behind. The convoy was watching the treeline intensely now, and more than once the sentry¡¯s attention strayed close to my position.


    But when I heard Vaelum begin to speak again, I chanced a bit of a closer approach.


    ¡°Alright, men! We¡¯re almost done with this hellhole,¡± he said, his voice audibly weary. Even if there hadn¡¯t been any mage casualties, the darkness of the forest was terrifying to those unaccustomed to it. ¡°When we¡¯re done here, we get out, and we get paid. But the largest hurdle is still ahead.¡± He paused, taking a deep breath. ¡°A ways ahead is the acidbeam hornets¡¯ nest. That''s our objective. Just for clarity, I¡¯m going to go over the plan one last time.¡±


    And as Vaelum began to speak, I listened as intently as possible.

 Chapter 20: The Hive

    Toren Daen


    ¡°You all might have heard of beastwards,¡± Vaelum started. He gestured to Meera, who held one of the red-trimmed boxes. She handed it to her leader, allowing him to raise it up. Vaelum kept it close to one of the lighting artifacts the group used for illumination. ¡°Inside of here is an artifact created by the mages in Taegrin Caelum themselves! When exposed to the air, it will ward off mana beasts for a length of time. But it also has another function!¡± he said, pausing momentarily. The mention of Taegrin Caelum seemed to quiet some of the tension in the non-mages. After all, the goods created by the High Sovereign¡¯s Instillers were the best of the best.


    ¡°But if these artifacts are subjected to high enough heat, they detonate. Depending on the strength of the artifact, this can knock mana beasts out cold!¡± Vaelum said, holding the box high. ¡°That¡¯s what we will be doing today.¡± Vaelum gestured to another mage in the expedition, who stepped up confidently. ¡°Our casters will be exploding several of these beastwards near the acidbeam hornet nest, hopefully knocking every one of these insectoid bastards out and dislodging their nest from the trees,¡± he said, lowering his hands. ¡°After that, our mages will move in to kill their queen, which will effectively neuter any resistance they can offer!¡±


    The plan sounded solid. What made acidbeam hornets so dangerous was their ability to work together, but that link depended on their hives¡¯ queen. If the queen was dead, their greatest advantage was effectively null.


    ¡°That is where the non-mages come in. Your job is to get in, carve up as many slices of the nest as you can, then get out. The mages will come in after you with dimension rings to store the rest,¡± Vaelum finished, clapping his hands. ¡°Any questions?¡±


    A hesitant hand rose amidst the crowd, drawing the attention of the lead spearman. ¡°If those explosions knock the nest down,¡± a woman said hesitantly, her face shadowed by the lighting artifact nearby, ¡°Won¡¯t us unads need to avoid the downed hornets? Even if they¡¯re unconscious?¡±


    Vaelum nodded in her direction. ¡°Yes, that is something you¡¯ve got to worry about. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve got weapons: to stick any mana beast that¡¯s too close. But they will be basically braindead with their queen killed.¡± The spearman paused, then continued speaking. ¡±Also, there will no doubt be straggling worker hornets away from the nest that will make a beeline back for their home once we blow it off its perch. Because they¡¯ll be far enough away to escape their queen¡¯s immediate influence, they won¡¯t be immediately damaged by her death. Those will be managed by our mages.¡±


    When it seemed like no more questions would arise, the convoy began a slow march forward. My breathing became more rapid as we neared: despite how long I had scavenged and killed in this forest, I avoided the hornets like the plague. I knew the forest went much deeper than anywhere I had reached, but the unofficial barrier between the safer and more dangerous parts was these nasty hornets. Very few mana beasts trifled with them.


    I heard the hive well before I saw it. An incessant, deep buzzing noise pressed against my ears like the grating of a saw, almost causing me to miss a jump. It grew in volume the closer I got, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.


    This plan of theirs better work, I thought nervously, Or I don¡¯t know if I can even get out alive.


    Vaelum called a halt to the convoy before long, gesturing for the group to be silent. He waved to several of the casters with his spear. Each held a box in their hand, and at the spearman¡¯s command, they opened them.


    I could barely see by the light of their artifacts, but the crystalline black spheres resting inside on small embroidered pillows rang bells in my mind. Where had I heard of these before?


    Each mage quietly withdrew the black crystal sphere, and a man came forward: the sentry from before. He laid a hand on each of the mage¡¯s shoulders, a flux of mana flaring in my senses with each touch. Then he peered toward where I heard the incessant buzzing, focusing for all he was worth.


    In unison, the mages all raised the orbs, imbuing them with mana. The crystalline beastwards seemed to suck in the light around them, casting the group in further shadow. Before the men could lose any more nerve, the mages hurled the beastwards as one.


    I lost sight of them immediately once they were beyond the lighting artifacts, the strange effect of almost swallowing light obscuring them from my vision.


    But the sudden booms that shook the trees did not. White leaves fell from the canopy as a couple of the trees vibrated from the explosion, though no light came from the nest. I heard a deep crack as if someone had driven a wedge straight through wood, then a thunderous crash. And then more and more crashing sounds joined a symphony of nerves. The sounds continued to echo, causing me to go rigid with apprehension.


    The incessant buzzing cut off abruptly, leaving a startling void of sound in its place. The convoy looked ready to bolt, even the mages. Those who had thrown the beastwards stared in shocked silence through the darkness, catching something I had clearly missed. The sentry laughed slightly, his shoulders slumping in relief.


    I swallowed, my nerves settling slightly. Whatever happened, it was clear that the leader¡¯s plan had worked.


    Vaelum was the first to start moving through the underbrush once more.


    I saw the carnage before anyone else. A smear of black fog hung heavy in the air around the trees, clearly the aftereffects of the beastwards bursting. I saw chunks of what looked like wasp-nest clinging to the clarwood trees, marking where it had fallen from. A slightly putrid smell permeated the forest, causing me to scrunch my nose in disgust.


    But the real sight was on the forest floor. What had once been thick vegetation was flattened by enormous lumps of paperlike hornet nest, and anything underneath must have been utterly crushed. Some of the chunks were twenty feet across, and some of the piles reached up to the lowermost branches of the tree.


    Jesus Christ, I thought in horrified awe. That nest must have been the size of a house.


    I couldn¡¯t see much in the low light, but here and there I noticed the reflective glimmer of lighting artifacts glance off of quivering wasp-like bodies.


    The convoy approached carefully, and a few of the mages conjured fireballs hesitantly to hover over the large carcass of the nest. More of the black smog permeated the fallen nest, stretching smokey tendrils over insectoid bodies.


    I could see the hornets mixed within the corpse of their home more easily now. Mottled green and brown carapace shifted in a sea of paperlike nest. Some twitched slightly, their six legs spasming intermittently. Others were outright squashed by the weight of the nest in a gruesome display of green viscera and brownish fluid.


    I shuddered from my perch in the tree. Anything with more than four limbs was an abomination against all that was holy.


    It seemed my aversion to the many-legged mana beasts was shared by many of the party below as I watched several men retch at the sight.


    But the ¡®crown jewel¡¯ of the hive was easy to spot. A giant, wingless insect with a grotesquely enlarged abdomen was chittering piteously near the top of the pile. Where the normal worker hornets were only a couple of feet long, this one was easily larger than my entire body.


    This was the queen: the nexus of the hivemind. Vaelum, wasting no time, bounded up the flaky hill the queen sat upon, his spear held steady in his hand. With a flare of mana, it erupted in a coating of orange flame. The queen had no chance to react. It was speared from head to tail, a spine-tingling chitter echoing out of the huge mandibles.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It took a longer time to die than I would have expected, but the evidence of its destruction was clear when, all at once, the remaining hornets ceased their movements entirely. The forest held a collective breath before Vaelum turned around, hoisting his spear in the air atop the mound in a sign of triumph.


    Some of the group laughed in relief, but most stayed silent. Though the hard part was over, the forest was still a deadly trap for all who made too much of a commotion.


    Ever so slowly, squads of men¨Cboth unadorned and mage¨Cbegan to work through the mass of destroyed hive. The nonmages used their weapons to separate chunks of the papery material, making way for the mages behind them to siphon it into their dimension rings. Whenever they came across the still bodies of acidbeam hornets, they were granted a quick death via spear or sword through the head.


    The work went surprisingly quickly. Though there were many tons of material to go through, thirty people working in tandem could get a lot done. Barely five minutes in and they had already made a noticeable dent in the nest.


    Soon enough, however, my enhanced ears picked up the sounds of buzzing approaching at a rapid pace. The sentry perked up a minute later, clearly noticing it as well. He gestured to several of the mages on standby, who got their weapons ready.


    ¡°Some stragglers are returning to the nest!¡± Vaelum called, readying his spear and adjusting his full-face helmet. ¡°Don¡¯t stop your work! The mages will dispatch these beasts!¡±


    If anything, the workers became even more frantic in their harvest of the nest. It seemed the oncoming buzzing was motivation enough.


    Over a score of hornets burst through the treeline, zipping erratically and buzzing with barely contained rage. Each was easily two feet long, certainly large enough to cause trouble to a normal man. Their stingers dripped with bright green fluid that almost glowed in the firelight.


    The battle began without a moment to spare. One of the mages, a woman with deep auburn hair, performed a complex gesture with her hands. Panels of solid white mana flickered into existence over the heads of the workers, and not a moment too soon. Several of the hornets lashed their stingers forward, firing the glowing green liquid in a spray toward those who would dare assault their home.


    The acid splashed against the shields, sizzling on contact. The white mana began to bubble and dissolve, but it held. A salvo of ice, metal, and earth answered the attack. The attacks peppered some of the hornets, dropping them to the ground. But many of the projectiles went wide, flying off into the forest with a whistle.


    I had to whip my head out of the way as a large lump of rock knocked a hole in the tree I was standing on.


    While some of the insectoid mana beasts had tried to assault the workers, the rest had opted for an aerial attack of the defending mages. Luckily, most of the mana users were adept enough to dodge and weave around the sprays of acid. One man did get hit by a few stray droplets, causing him to growl in pain. He returned the favor a minute later with a blade of wind, bisecting the offending hornet in midair. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The acidbeam hornets flitted around the air in a dizzying display of aerial maneuverability, spraying their acid and diving intermittently toward the crew and defending mages. But these hives were dangerous because of their extreme numbers, and there were only a little over twenty that had deigned to attack in the first place.


    Their number was slowly whittled down further, each of their dives allowing strikers like Vaelum to punish them heavily. Whenever the hornets tried to bombard the mages with acid from above, a mana shield would materialize to block the dissolving fluid.


    But there were bound to be some cracks. One of the hornets was moving toward the edge of the group, away from the main source of the battle. The mages had successfully turned the insect¡¯s attention away from the outskirts, focusing their attacks on a smaller area. But this one beast broke rank, divebombing toward an unprotected flank.


    My eyes widened as I saw the intended target. The sentry was surrounded by a couple of mages, but they were not ready for the swiftness of the attack. The hornets were absurdly fast, and I knew in that split-second that if I did not intervene, the sentry would die.


    I beamed a rock from my dimension ring as fast as I could, hoping against hope that my aim was true. It wasn¡¯t easy to hit something moving, especially something as erratic as a bug. But my luck pulled through.


    The stoned obliterated the head of the hornet mid-flight, eviscerating the carapace in a shower of brownish goop. The body was shifted off course slightly by the impact, causing it to impact the ground near the sentry¡¯s feet in a shower of loose dirt.


    The sentry and the mages around him stared with bated breaths at the corpse. My shoulders relaxed at my success, but I nearly choked when the sentry¡¯s head whipped toward my spot in the tree.


    I ducked behind it, dampening my presence the best I could. I had avoided catching the attention of the sentry so far by limiting the attention I directed toward him, as he was obviously able to pick up when someone was watching him for too long. I hoped I hadn¡¯t blown my cover too soon.


    But the battle raged on. No attacks flew my way in the tree, allowing me to relax for a moment. I hesitantly turned my attention back to the hornet¡¯s assault. The desperation in the hornet¡¯s attack¨Cif one could call it that¨Cwas clear even to my untrained eye. The beasts almost ran into each other at several points with zero coordination to be had. Where before there were nearly two dozen mana beasts, now only a handful remained.


    And with ruthless efficiency, the last was blown apart by a water bullet from the caster named Meera.


    Throughout the entire battle, the spare mages and workers had been hacking away at the nest, storing the chunks as fast as possible. The attack had lasted barely two minutes, but I could swear the men had already cleared a fifth of the paper with the motivation deadly stinger-armed mana beasts provided.


    The mages slowly reconvened, checking injuries and making sure they hadn¡¯t lost anyone. With the lull in attention, I hopped to a nearby tree, moving a bit closer to hear better.


    Vaelum speared the jittering body of one of the last hornets before conjuring a wave of fire across his spear, burning away any refuse that clung to the metal. I couldn¡¯t see his eyes beneath his full helmet, but I could sense his relief as he took in the rest of his group.


    My guts promptly tried to exit my chest when the sentry shuffled up to Vaelum, drawing his attention. They began to talk in muffled whispers, too quiet even for my sound-attuned ears. And from the suspicious looks Vaelum gave the trees surrounding the group, I had a sinking feeling I knew what they were talking about.


    Damn. I had probably given myself away by saving the sentry. If I wanted to get the drop on any of the mages for information tonight, I would have to be a lot more careful. I slumped against the branch of the tree, pulling my mana inward and thankful that I hadn¡¯t been outright attacked yet.


    But my respite was short-lived.


    A slow, rhythmic buzzing began to build, coming from a far distance. My heart began to hammer in my chest, the thump thump seeming to match the pitch of the oncoming source of the noise.


    And it got louder. And louder. And louder. I could tell from the staccato of wingbeats that a horde was coming for this location at rapid speed.


    The mages began to panic as the noise approached like the wave of a tsunami. They hastily arranged themselves into battle formations, but the tide caused the workers to panic and rush back to the mages, throwing their preparations into disarray.


    I watched with growing horror as Vaelum scrambled to maintain unity and organize a defense against whatever was coming. He yelled orders, trying to be heard over the growing cacophony of wingbeats. I clenched my dagger in my hand, the sweat greasing my palms making the leather stick to my hand.


    Should I run? I thought, turning back. I was faster than this convoy: far faster. I could be out of here in an instant, leaving them to their fate. I could feel the mana fluctuations of an oncoming horde, now. They had practically zero chance to make it out of this alive.


    I knew my answer before the hornets ever breached the treeline. Resignation settled through my bones. I couldn¡¯t leave these men to their fate, regardless of their allegiance to Blood Joan.


    It was something that both Toren and I would agree upon.


    And so I stood up from my branch, focusing on my fireball template spell. I held my hands together, funneling a sizable portion of my mana into compacted fire mana. I added layer after layer, forcing the compression further. I was sweating as I focused, barely registering the sentry looking at me from below.


    When I was done, I held a writhing ball of compacted fire, barely restrained from bursting. I heaved for breath, the effort of maintaining the spell¡¯s cohesion taking most of my focus. But I cocked my arm back, holding the tongues of power clenched in my fist. My gloves sizzled slightly, the heat not restrained enough.


    Then I hurled the fireball toward the sound just as the swarm reached the treeline. My fireball exploded on impact, detonating in a burst of flame and sound. Dozens of scorched hornets fell from the sky, smoke drifting off their blackened carapaces as they dropped. My terror renewed itself as I finally faced the horde. There was very little light in the forest, the canopy blocking most rays of sunlight from reaching the ground.


    But as a solid wall of legs and eyes and wings blotted out the light, I realized how much I missed the sky.

 Chapter 21: Acideam

    Toren Daen


    I barely had time to think as the hornets surrounded everything around us, a dome of buzzing hell boxing every man and woman into a sunless void.


    And then the bombardment started. A veritable wave of glowing green acid rained from the sky, forcing me to escape the trees in a burst of telekinesis from my feet.


    I had only one chance to make it out of this alive. I rocketed toward the team of huddled mages, twisting midair to face the oncoming shower of green acid. I let out a burst of fire from my palm, burning away some of the sprays. A bit of the acid still splashed onto me, however, quickly eating through my mana barrier. I grit my teeth as some of the residual liquid sizzled through my mana shroud and bit into my skin.


    I landed with a backward stumble, barely managing to reach the huddled mages before a shield of solid mana erected itself around this small group. I watched in horror as the shower pelted those outside the white barrier, some mages conjuring bulwarks of ice and earth. But those hit the worst by the acid rain were the non-mages.


    I suppressed the urge to vomit as men howled when the green liquid seeped through their skin. It wasn¡¯t an instant death: the acid wasn¡¯t powerful enough to dissolve metal quickly. It was slow and brutal; the accompanying screams of pain made it all the more horrifying.


    My distracted almost got me killed. I looked down to see a spearpoint suddenly at my throat, the gleam of steel nearly as threatening as the glare I received from the wielder.


    Vaelum was watching me with one eye as a shield held her barrier against the shower of acid. His grip on his weapon was tight, causing his knuckles to whiten.


    ¡°What have you done?¡± he snarled, pressing the spearpoint to my throat. My mana barrier flared under the pressure, and I had no illusions that it wouldn¡¯t be shredded like butter if the man pressed a bit harder.


    I raised my hands in the universal message of surrender, letting my dagger fall from my hands. It didn¡¯t matter if I had a weapon or not: if I couldn¡¯t work with these mages, I would die under the onslaught of hornets.


    I noticed another mage resting a hand on the shield¡¯s back, probably funneling mana into her body. The shield didn¡¯t seem too strained by maintaining the mana barrier, but who knew how long she could hold it?


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± I said placatingly. ¡°I¡¯m not here to fight you,¡± I said, keeping the modification of my voice to a minimum. I really didn¡¯t want to exacerbate their fear, but the mask I was wearing probably didn¡¯t help. ¡°I can help you fight off the hornets. I don¡¯t have much of a choice if I want to survive,¡± I said, my posture rigid.


    I could see the conflict warring in Vaelum¡¯s eyes, but before he could make a decision, a hand was laid on his arm. I tensed at the sentry¡¯s interruption, but I needn¡¯t have worried.


    ¡°We can worry about what this mage is doing here later,¡± the sentry cut through harshly, peering past the translucent mana barrier with barely restrained fear. The hornets had paused after their initial salvo, something that confused me. I could see small pockets of men huddled under barriers of earth, ice, and more. What was warding off the mana beasts, then? ¡°Right now we need a way out, and we need all the help we can get.¡±


    Vaelum lowered the spear from my throat with a huff, peeking past the barrier. I sent a grateful nod to the sentry, who frowned in response. It seemed that I still had work to do to gain his trust.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Vaelum said, tilting his head to observe the carnage outside. I took a steadying breath as I spotted the corpses around us. In a single attack, nearly half of the expedition force had been wiped out. I forcefully averted my eyes from the skeletons lining the ground. ¡°This must be from another hive. They¡¯re too coordinated for it to be anything else,¡± he said. ¡°And they¡¯re going to attack again,¡± he added, dread in his voice. ¡°What¡¯s stopping them from diving at us now?¡±


    The sentry peered around, inspecting the outside of the mana barrier. ¡°The remnants of the beastward are keeping them at bay,¡± he said, adjusting his coat. ¡°See the black smog? That¡¯s what''s keeping these bastards from swarming us all at once. They have to attack us at range, at least until the beastwards wear off,¡± he exhaled shakily. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Several of the other men, mage and not, were panicking within the small bubble we found ourselves in. One man just sat on the ground, staring at the melted bodies of his fellow workers with an empty expression. Another was screaming incoherently, the buzzing infecting his ears and mind.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Vaelum shouted, cutting through the growing fear. ¡°We¡¯re going to make it through this. The beastwards will dissipate in a little under five minutes. We¡¯ve got until then to formulate a plan!¡±


    His proclamation was punctuated by another rain of acid, attacking the shield¡¯s barrier in a deluge. I noticed a few beads of sweat on her face this time as she struggled to maintain the defensive perimeter. ¡°That¡¯s all well and good,¡± the mage said breathily, ¡°But I¡¯m not sure I can hold for five minutes!¡±


    I grit my teeth as the green shower ate through an ice shield a ways away from me, killing the mage supporting it and dooming the few surviving men underneath to a grisly death. I clenched my fist as I watched, feeling helpless from my inability to act.


    Vaelum was looking at the sky with a twist to his face. ¡°We need to break through all at once,¡± he said, a bit of confidence returning to his voice. ¡°These hornets must be a different nest than the one we destroyed. If we can get far enough away from wherever their queen is, we¡¯ll be safe,¡± he said, a gleam of hope in his eyes. ¡°The hornets take a few seconds to gather mana between each attack. There¡¯s a window there.¡±


    He returned his attention to our small group. There were seven of us in total: him, the shield, the sentry, three non-mages, and me. I didn¡¯t know what plan the man would make, but I hoped it would get us through safely.


    The spear-wielding striker looked at the other groups holding out under the intermittent torrents of acid. From what I could see, there were several small pockets of people huddling under different elemental shields.


    Vaelum surveyed our own forces, then turned to me. ¡°We need to get the others out there to group together with us,¡± he said. ¡°And they won¡¯t be able to hear us over this incessant buzzing. We need to send people over, and there are only two mages who can cross the distance between us and the groups fast enough.¡±


    The unspoken message passed between us. Vaelum didn¡¯t trust me enough to ask outright.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can,¡± I said, turning to one of the more distant groups. The shield in that group held a dome of metal over his head, protecting a couple more people who huddled around them. But unlike the other shields, this one didn¡¯t protect the sides. The green liquid that the hornets fired was beginning to pool on the ground, and it was only a matter of time before it crept under their dome.


    ¡°I¡¯ll gather those two,¡± I said, pointing toward my selections. From what I had seen, I was probably faster than Vaelum, so it was a wiser option to take the longer distances. As the latest barrage of acid missiles fizzled out, I added one more sentence. ¡°My name is Dusk.¡±


    I rocketed past the white shield, keeping an eye on the black quivering dome that surrounded the nest. Mana pumped through my legs in time with bursts of telekinesis, rocketing me across the forest floor as fast as lightning. I skidded to a halt under the metal dome, causing the mage to jump in surprise. The few men he was protecting¨Cboth non-mages¨Cscooted back in surprise, nearly edging outside their protection.


    The only light they had was a dismal lighting artifact clipped to the shield¡¯s belt like a lantern. It must have seemed like I had appeared out of nowhere. I could only see because of the mana reinforcing my eyes, so a shield that wasn¡¯t specialized in body enhancement would¡¯ve barely had time to react to my arrival.


    ¡°Vaelum is organizing an escape force to break past these hornets,¡± I said quickly, ignoring the fear on their faces. We didn¡¯t have much time. ¡°Head towards the glimmering light over there,¡± I said, pointing toward the barely visible shimmering of the mana shield I had come from. ¡°Reinforce the shield there. We¡¯ll make it out of this alive.¡±


    I met the eyes of the mage holding up the umbrella of iron through my mask. He gave me a strained nod, then began to move quickly. Taking that as a cue he knew what to do, I surveyed my next target. A woman held up a circle of ice, her face strained as she glared upward.


    Meera, I knew.


    I bolted over towards her small group. None of the people she was protecting were mages, either, but she didn¡¯t seem nearly as surprised at my appearance as the metal shield. She seemed angry.


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    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± she snapped, her strained expression snapping to me. They widened in fear when she took in my mask. ¡°You going to kill me, too?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m here to get you out.¡± I gestured vaguely toward the shimmering light of the makeshift meeting point. ¡°Vaelum has a plan to get you all out of this. He¡¯s got a rendezvous point over there. Get yourself and these men there safely,¡± I said, preparing to dash back.


    ¡°What?!¡± the woman snapped out, her short brown hair wild with disarray. ¡°You expect me to help these peons?¡± she said with obvious disgust, the unadorned at her feet shrinking inward in fear. ¡±I¡¯m low enough on mana already! I¡¯ll be wrung dry by the time I reach the shield!¡±


    I stilled, then turned back to Meera. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I hissed, the stress from this entire situation finally pulsing at the surface. ¡°These people need saving and it¡¯s your job to do it!¡±


    For a pregnant pause, Meera looked down at the terrified men huddled at her feet. My stomach dropped as I saw the decision made in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not dying for unads,¡± she spat, turning around. Then, with the buzzing still in all of our ears, she broke off in a sprint toward the edge of the insectoid dome. Her ice shield followed her, leaving me and the two non-mages exposed to the inevitable onslaught of the acidbeam hornets.


    Meera pulled something from her belt, a familiar red-trimmed box. When she opened it, my despair only grew. Inside was a beastward: as far as I was aware, the last one available. As she dashed toward the wall of skittering carapace, she lifted the black crystal high. ¡°I¡¯m going to live through this!¡± she laughed with a hint of madness. ¡°I¡¯m going to get out of this Vritra-forsaken forest alive!¡±


    The hornets parted for Meera as she and her beastward drew close, then closed back behind her as she darted through the forest.


    That bitch!


    I barely had time to react as the next wave of acid rained from on high. Thinking quickly, I raised both my hands to the sky. I focused on my telekinesis rune, doing my best to stretch the surface area for my telekinetic push out as wide as possible.


    My telekinetic push flared to life over my head just in time. The glowing green liquid impacted rippling white mana above, the pushback pressing me into the ground. I stumbled from the force, my arms burning under the weight. The acid was pushed off my impromptu barrier, pooling around the edges. I heard the non-mages whimper in fear near my feet.


    I was quickly becoming familiar with one of the drawbacks of my telekinesis rune. For every action, there wass an equal and opposite reaction. I pushed the acid rain away from me, but the acid rain also pushed me into the ground.


    Sweat dripped from my brow and my arms burned from holding up the weight of untold gallons of heavy fluid slamming into my magic. I felt my spell shudder, the pressure fighting my own control. My arms creaked as the flashing white of my pushing spell flickered weakly.


    And then the shower of acid stopped just in time, my telekinesis winking out as the rain faded to a drizzle, and then nothing at all.


    I had never used my telekinesis as a shield before. I was lucky it even worked. When spreading the surface area of my telekinetic pushes and pulls, the force I could apply over the increased distance decreased dramatically. If I had been a little less careful, the acid could have broken through my barrier.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I said to the men at my feet. They didn¡¯t move. ¡°Go!¡± I yelled, pulling them up by an arm each. ¡°You¡¯re coming with me,¡± I said, hauling them with me despite my fatigue. They stumbled slowly after me, but our pace picked up as we moved.


    But I wasn¡¯t out of the woodwork yet. A few hornets detached themselves from the quivering dome, heading for me with deadly precision. As they got closer to the permeating black smog, their flight patterns became a bit wobbly, but not enough to divert them away from me.


    Biting back a curse, I shoved the two non-mages onward toward the shield. It was close now, not even twenty paces away. I could make out the people inside, watching with bated breath as the non-mages ran for all they were worth.


    I pivoted on my foot, ignoring my growing fatigue. I whipped my dagger from its sheath, using the draw to deflect the stinger of an oncoming hornet. I had to twist slightly to avoid the divebomb attack of another, but I followed up with a fireball that burned it out of the air. The third insect managed to impale itself on my waiting dagger with its momentum, but it continued to writhe on my blade, thrusting its stinger at me in vain.


    I snarled, pushing mana through the steel. With an effort of will, my blade erupted in fire, burning away the hornet lodged on it in a conflagration of light.


    I whipped my weapon around, using the spin to decapitate the last oncoming hornet. And not a moment too soon, either: the next outpour of acid rained down from all sides, promising death to all who got caught in it.


    I leapt for the mana barrier, using a burst of telekinesis beneath my feet to propel me toward it. I sailed through the air, hoping against hope I would make it in time.


    I passed through the translucent shield with no resistance, tumbling across the laden earth with a pained grunt. The sound of acid sizzling against the mana barrier immediately afterward hinted to me how close I had come to being dissolved. I lay sprawled for a moment in the dirt, trying to focus myself through the ache in my muscles. Then I slowly struggled to my feet, ignoring the protest of my knees.


    I looked behind me, noting that part of my dark cloak was just gone, no doubt having been caught in the acid.


    The barrier was being maintained by three mages now. Over the top, a layer of iron was raised alongside the original white mana barrier, then further augmented by thin discs of earth. I recognized the shield I had instructed to run to the rendezvous amidst them, causing some of my nerves to settle. But the sides of the barrier were the weak link.


    The hornets were coming in greater and greater numbers. They routinely slammed against the domelike mana shield that surrounded the group, breaking their way through intermittently. The holes sealed up behind them, but not before the group was faced with the threat of each and every beady-eyed insect.


    Vaelum and another caster were busy killing any hornets that got too close, flashes of a fiery spear and bullets of wind ending anything that got too close to our protective canopy.


    And the non-mages that Meera had abandoned were safe, too.


    ¡°They¡¯re getting bolder,¡± Vaelum yelled, stating the obvious as he separated a hornet¡¯s head from its abdomen with his spear. He had somehow lost his helmet, revealing close-cut dark hair. ¡°The fog is starting to dissipate! We don¡¯t have much time to get out!¡±


    I spared another glance around the battlefield. The hornets just kept coming, but there was something odd about how they approached us. There were far more hornets buzzing about the carcass of the nest than there were attacking our small group.


    I gathered myself back up, running mana through my limbs to dismiss their protests. I gripped my dagger tightly, the familiar handle wrapping providing me an anchor to move forward. ¡°How are we going to get through that blockade of wings and legs?¡± I asked Vaelum as I pulled myself to his side, too tired to modify my voice any longer.


    I weaved around an oncoming stinger, slicing down as it whizzed past me. My steel dagger, enhanced by mana to improve both its durability and cutting power, sheared right through the carapace with little resistance.


    Vaelum turned to me, allowing me to see his face fully for the first time. It was pulled into a grimace of effort, the strain of having to kill so many mana beasts beginning to wear on him, too. There was a scar just under his chin. ¡°Where¡¯s Meera?¡± he yelled over the ever-present buzzing. ¡°The water caster,¡± he clarified. ¡°She was acting as a shield!¡±


    I grit my teeth, risking a glance back to the two non-mages Meera had left behind. ¡°She left us,¡± I called back. ¡°She used the beastward she had to get through the blockade. She left us here to die,¡± I bit out angrily.


    I watched in dismay as Vaelum¡¯s face fell. ¡°But-¡± he said, turning back to the men behind him. The men under his command, counting on him to pull them out of this. ¡°Without the beastward¡­¡± he choked out, his nerves clearly spent.


    He didn¡¯t finish his sentence, but I could tell immediately what he was feeling.


    I grit my teeth, thinking as hard as I could. In the meantime, I burned and cut and decimated many more hornets that tried to bust through our barrier. The beasts were coming faster and faster, the dissipating black fog no longer keeping them away nearly as effectively.


    The caster assisting us in shooting down hornets was a short man with graying hair. I narrowly avoided an oncoming ball of wind, watching it impact an insectoid mana beast behind me. The sphere of condensed air didn¡¯t explode immediately: instead, it pushed the buzzing monstrosity farther and farther away before bursting in an outflow of wind that pushed every oncoming mana beast nearby off course.


    My distraction from watching the wind ball cost me. A stray hornet managed to reach one of the huddled non-mages, embedding its sharp stinger into his gut with a sickening shunk. The man screamed momentarily, writhing on the ground and trying to edge away. I bounded over, ripping the hornet out of him killing it with a flare of heat from my palm.


    But I knew the wound was fatal. The man¡¯s stomach was already dissolving, and I could see the ground through where his spine was supposed to be. The man¡¯s screams slowly dissolved into pitiful gurgles. I avoided looking into his eyes, shoving down the guilt of letting my guard down. Of letting him die.


    I threw the corpse of the hornet at another with a burst of telekinesis, panic and dread building in me even as I continued to fight. What could I even do?


    I delivered a sound-shroud-covered hook to a nearby hornet, the vibrations from my spell-laden fist traveling through its system. It dropped from the air, spasming on the ground. I brought my boot down on its head, the satisfying crunch one of the only things I could remotely enjoy.


    The aging caster sent another ball of wind toward a coming swarm, this one far, far larger than before, easily as wide as a man was tall. It pushed the oncoming hornets away, catching them on its rotating surface as it went. Then when it was far enough away, it burst in a gale of force, shredding the insect¡¯s wings and disorienting their flight. While it didn¡¯t do much damage, it created a distance that allowed the strikers to finish off their targets.


    Gears that had been turning the first time I witnessed this attack finally clicked into place, cementing a plan in my mind. I finally had an idea of what could pull us out of this mess.

 Chapter 22: Escape

    Toren Daen


    The pieces of a plan started to solidify in my mind.


    I lobbed another fireball into the path of an oncoming hornet, taking note once more of how many were attacking our small group versus how many were swarming the downed nest.


    The glowing green acid seeping into the ground provided enough light to see across the forest floor. And from what I could make out. far, far more hornets were swarming what remained of the nest. If that many hornets attacked us, we would be overwhelmed in an instant. Furthermore, there was a notable lack of green acid coating the papery nest material.


    The hornets had outright avoided coating it in the dissolving fluid. That meant that the nest was more important to them than our ragged resistance.


    Acting on a hunch, I began to condense a sound grenade in my palm. I packed in a decent bit of mana, but not too much: I had only a little over a quarter of my maximum mana capacity left. I couldn¡¯t afford to waste it now.


    I lobbed my mana construct into the night, the shimmering oil-like rainbow of colors within belying the power it contained. When it got far enough away, the grenade burst in a thunderous bang.


    Many of the hornets around us froze, then zipped toward the explosion in an angry buzz. They whirled around where my sound bomb detonated, searching for whatever made the noise.


    I quickly maneuvered to Vaelum, killing a few of the remaining bugs along the way.


    ¡°Vaelum!¡± I called, causing the man to turn. His hair was matted to his head by sweat, and his eyes were wild with adrenaline. ¡°I¡¯ve figured out a way to get us out!¡± I called, swatting away another hornet.


    Vaelum¡¯s eyes flitted to where my sound grenade had gone off, his mind clearly working to catch up. ¡°That sound won¡¯t be enough. We can¡¯t get out if the dome isn¡¯t breached! And what¡¯s to stop these monsters from chasing us down even after we escape?¡± he asked, anger lacing his tone.


    I pointed a finger at the caster with graying hair, who shuffled closer to us. ¡°He¡¯s our ticket out,¡± I said. ¡°If he can create a wind ball large enough, he can blast a hole that we can escape through. And if I use my sound grenade to draw the stray hornet¡¯s attention, we can make a clean getaway!¡± I said, my breath coming quicker. ¡°The hornets came here because of the crashing sound this nest made when it fell. They clearly care about it more than us. We have to get away from it if we want to survive!¡±


    It wasn¡¯t difficult to put together the pieces on how these insectoid bastards hunted. Every instance I had run into them¨Cwhich to be fair, wasn¡¯t terribly often¨Cwas always preceded by a loud noise. They mobbed the drift apes when I detonated a sound grenade near them. They swarmed us here after the echoing crash of the falling nest. Then, the hornets attacked the location of my most recent sound grenade.


    Vaelum and the wind caster looked at each other, some silent conversation occurring between the two. ¡°Do you think you can do it?¡± Vaelum asked aloud, having calmed down slightly at my explanation. ¡°Blow a hole in this barrier?¡±


    The wind caster looked at the edges of the buzzing dome. ¡°With my Wind Ball spell? I think it would be pretty easy. But keeping the gap open for long is the hard part.¡± He turned to me, raising a graying eyebrow. ¡°And that¡¯s where your sound bomb comes into play, I presume?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Do you think you can do it?¡±


    He looked over the remains of the convoy: once forty strong, now less than twenty. ¡°I have to try. But I¡¯ll be out of mana after this. It¡¯s my last shot.¡±


    I nodded, then began to focus on condensing a sound grenade. Vaelum began to rally the remaining men, urging them to move toward the dome''s edge. We began to shuffle toward the buzzing horde, but having to avoid puddles of septic green ooze hampered much of our progress. All the shields were now visibly tiring, sweat on all of their faces and weak in the knees. This was truly our last shot.


    I looked up from my concentration momentarily as I felt a truly impressive swell of mana building. The wind caster had created a sphere of wind that was easily ten feet across and whirling with the contained power of a hurricane. He strained visibly to keep it in check, the complex pattern of mana demanding to be set loose.


    And in my hand, I now held the condensed force of nearly all of the rest of my mana. It rippled and pulsed with shimmering color, the vibrations of sound twisting the light in odd ways. I looked up, meeting Vaelum¡¯s eyes behind my mask and doing my best to signal I was ready.


    The spearman brought his weapon down, yelling for all he was worth. ¡°Fire it now!¡±


    The wind caster released his spell at the wall of chittering carapaces. It sounded like the roar of a train; like a thunderstorm given purpose. At the same time, I threw my grenade with as much force as I could muster far across the clearing. It bounced once, twice, then came to a stop.


    The sphere of wind pressed into the edge of the wall, buoying the hornets outward in a bulbous swell. Then it burst in a gale of power, blowing a thirty-foot gap in the wall of death. The sound must have been like that of a tornado ripping buildings apart.


    I said ¡®must have¡¯ because the explosion of my sound grenade caused my hearing to descend into a loud, persistent ringing. Even protected by mana and reinforced as much as I could manage, the force of my concussive grenade rang out like a gong, sending ripples through the entire forest and utterly disabling my sense of hearing. I stumbled from the vibrations that traveled through me, but it was nothing compared to the non-mages nearby. They had their hands over their ears even before the blast, but that didn¡¯t save them. They stumbled forward, clearly screaming as their ears bled from the force. No doubt their eardrums had burst, but it was a better fate than being destroyed by the hornets.


    But we couldn¡¯t let the opening go. The casters and shields weren¡¯t as affected by my grenade, but their spells wavered and winked out all the same. They managed to pull many of the nonmages with them¨Cincluding the sentry¨Cas we ran for the opening, but my feet stalled when I noticed a few were falling behind, the pain in their ears and the disorientation distracting them.


    The sound grenade had pulled the attention of hundreds of the flying insects. The gap in the dome wasn¡¯t closing nearly as fast as it had when Meera ran, as dozens of hornets rushed from their enclosure to swarm toward the sound. But it was still inching closed at an inevitable pace.


    My decision was taken from me when a hand gripped the back of my cloak and dragged me away from the stumbling men behind me. I wanted to resist and fight; go back and help the men left behind. But the closing gap silenced all of my worries.


    Vaelum pulled me along, yelling something out. I couldn¡¯t hear him over the ringing in my ears: in fact, I doubted anybody could hear him. But it was easy enough to read his lips.


    Move! Move! Move!


    I stumbled past the wall of death just in time, the dome of fluttering wings and hexagonal eyes closing behind me. We broke into a sprint, trying to put as much distance between us and the hornets as we possibly could.


    I was near backlash, the ache in my core telling of how much I had overworked my magic. My hearing was slowly returning, the ringing quieting as the sounds of the forest returned.


    We ran for several minutes, fear dogging our heels. I chanced a glance back once, horror building in my chest as I watched the hornets crash down on the nest like an imploding tide. I couldn¡¯t see them like I used to: only vague outlines and skittering wings reflecting what little light remained.


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    But my fear was unfounded. The insects didn¡¯t give chase, though they certainly could catch us with ease. They were content to attack what was left of the house-sized nest that the expedition crew had brought down.


    We slowed to a stop in a small clearing, the majority of the people with us stumbling to their knees and collapsing in various states of disarray and terror.


    I looked to all who had made it out alive. Vaelum, the wind caster, the three shields, the sentry, four non-mages, and myself.


    Of the forty or so men who had entered this forest, only a quarter had survived.


    I swallowed heavily as I surveyed our surroundings once more, something that had been drilled into me by my many nights in this forest. The expedition had avoided many attacks from mana beasts because of their high numbers, but now? Now they were all exhausted and weak, with none of the previous numbers to bolster their morale and forces.


    They were still in the deepest parts of the forest, surrounded by monsters that would happily eat them all alive. The only illumination available to us was from a few lighting artifacts latched onto the belts of the shields. The forest floor was far more dangerous than the treetops, and with the low lighting¡­


    I was brought out of my hazy thoughts by the sound of another man collapsing. I turned my head slowly, realizing that it was someone I knew. Vaelum leaned against a tall clarwood, staring upward with a vacant gaze. His hand clutched at his side, a shade of deep red leaking from his plated armor.


    I rushed over, falling to my knees at his side. I could see it now: a small hole had been torn in the metal chestplate under his ribs, leaking small amounts of blood. His skin was too pale to be healthy, but he wasn¡¯t bleeding enough to look so hurt.


    I looked at the wound again, finally spotting the cause. Small drops of bright green liquid flowed along with the streams of blood.


    Some of the acid had reached his system.


    His eyes focused on me again, a note of familiarity within. ¡°We got out,¡± he whispered. ¡°How about that?¡±


    My mind flashed to the man who had died under my watch, his midsection dissolved by the stinger of a hornet. The men who had fallen behind in our desperate bid to escape, who I had been unable to pull with us.


    ¡°You¡¯re not dying here,¡± I said, touching his armored shoulder. Toren¡¯s knowledge of healing and mending wounds rushed to the forefront of my mind, the years of working beside a surgeon and doctor providing ample experience. I gave the man another cursory inspection: the bleeding was light, so the stinger hadn¡¯t pierced deep or cut any major blood vessels. The greatest danger was from the acid that had gotten into his wounds.


    While the acid hadn¡¯t reached a major artery, it was going to reach his heart eventually. I could easily predict the repercussions of that.


    I laid my hands on Vaelum¡¯s side, dismissing his wince. ¡°I¡¯m going to push some of my mana into your wound,¡± I said, keeping my eye on the small gash that peeked out from the side of his chestplate. ¡°I need you to take that in, purify it, and use it to break down the acid in your body. We don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    Vaelum didn¡¯t reply, so I pushed on anyway. I was almost at backlash, my mana almost completely expended. But the phoenix feather in my core was regenerating my reserves at a rapid rate, allowing me to push more into the mage¡¯s body.


    I focused on the mana channels in my arms, funneling the familiar warmth of mana through them and into the body near me. I paused for a second, making sure Vaelum was purifying the mana. Mana that wasn¡¯t purified of foreign intent and signatures would prove poisonous unless stripped of another mage¡¯s marks. My channels ached from overuse, the attempt at pushing man through them like twisting a sprained muscle, but I pushed on anyways.


    Vaelum was gradually removing my stamp from the mana, though it was a sluggish and slow process. My awareness of the mana entering his body dimmed and faded, becoming subsumed by the man¡¯s core.


    After a minute, I removed my hands. A bit of color had already returned to Vaelum¡¯s cheeks, something that relieved a lot of my stress.


    There were no Emitters in Alacrya; the healing mages of Dicathen were something entirely unique to their own continent. In Alacrya, the study of the body and medicine took its place. And through countless experiments and documentation, the mages of Alacrya helped to flesh out the amazing vitality-encouraging properties of mana. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mana could be used to strengthen the body. This was common knowledge for every mage, but the intricacies of this ran even deeper. Mana didn¡¯t just strengthen your muscles, allowing you to lift heavier loads or punch with the strength of ten men. It also enhanced a person¡¯s healing factor by several magnitudes. Granted, it was nothing compared to the active healing of soulfire or vivum arts, but a light cut could close in under a day once your core was purified enough.


    An extension of this was the strengthening of a mage¡¯s immune system. Mages rarely ever got sick, and as long as mana was in their system infection was unlikely.


    What I had done for Vaelum was a stopgap measure, but it would hopefully last us the next couple of hours.


    I was pulled away from the body by a heavy hand, causing me to stumble. I was tired from all the fighting I had been doing, so the sudden movement caused my head to spin.


    ¡°What are you doing to him?¡± a harsh voice asked, wrenching me from my disorientation as I had been wrenched from my work. ¡°You get your filthy hands off of him!¡±


    It was one of the shields that Vaelum had saved, the one that used earth magic. He was a big man, and I had to resist the urge to cringe from how he loomed over me.


    ¡°I was infusing him with mana,¡± I snapped back, my patience thin from the fight I had just gone through. ¡°He¡¯s practically out, and if you hadn¡¯t noticed, one of the hornets scored him with acid! If I didn¡¯t lend help, he wouldn¡¯t be able to fight it off!¡±


    The shield was taken aback by my caustic barb, but his reply was cut off by the intervention of the aged wind caster.


    ¡°Quiet, you dolts!¡± he hissed, pushing past the both of us and kneeling by Vaelum, who had drifted off to sleep. He peered over Vaelum¡¯s body, inspecting it as I had a moment ago. ¡°We¡¯re still in the depths of the forest. Anything that can hear us will want us dead. So shush,¡± he said in a low tone.


    ¡°But we don¡¯t even know this masked mage,¡± the shield said at a more modest volume, though not lacking in anger. ¡°And he appeared right when we were attacked by that swarm of acidbeam hornets! He probably brought them to us!¡± he said, glaring at me indignantly.


    ¡°I was the one who alerted you all they were coming, you ungrateful ass!¡± I spat back, trying to moderate my tone. My hearing was still slightly dampened by the sound grenade I had thrown earlier, so I had no way to gauge how loud I was being. ¡°I could¡¯ve just run off, leaving you all to be buried in acid!¡±


    The wind caster turned away from Vaelum¡¯s body. ¡°That you could have, and we¡¯re grateful you didn¡¯t,¡± he said mildly. ¡°Your plan was what got us out of that accursed entrapment alive, I¡¯ll give you that. Without your aid, most of us would be dead, if not all. And you helped our leader recover his strength somewhat with your mana, though he does still need to be bandaged.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at the shield, the wind caster¡¯s compliments bolstering my defense. But then it came crashing down.


    ¡°However,¡± he said, his voice lowering even more as he stood. ¡°I¡¯ve talked with our sentry, and it seems that he felt you following us for quite some time, all the way through the forest. At first, he didn¡¯t recognize the attention as a person following us.¡± The caster paused, sparing a glance at the tall clarwoods. ¡±But after you finally intervened, he put two and two together. You were following us for a long time. Why was that, I wonder?¡±


    The shield redoubled his glare, and I resisted the urge to bite back. I couldn¡¯t exactly tell them I planned to jump their leader in the dead of night and pry him for information about Blood Joan.


    Our standoff continued for a little while longer before the older mage sighed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter now,¡± he said, the weariness he surely felt finally leaking into his tone. ¡°We haven¡¯t been attacked by beasts just yet because of how close we still are to the nest. The beasts in this forest respect territory, but they haven¡¯t yet realized that this is open land now. But they will soon.¡±


    I shuddered, finally remembering where we were. We were in the depths of the Clarwood Forest, as deep as I had ever gone.


    ¡°We all want to make it out of here alive,¡± the old mage continued, ¡°But most of our mages are spent and weary, barely able to fire a spell. The rest are unads, unable to fight at all. But we don¡¯t need to leave the forest entirely: all we need to do is get to the border between the deeper parts of the forest. And the chances that we do that rise exponentially with another mage on our team.¡±


    I shared another glance with the combative shield, recognizing the truth in his words. Whatever he saw in my own eyes behind my mask settled him somewhat.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be keeping an eye on you,¡± he said with a huff, walking off toward the rest of our party.


    ¡°We all will,¡± the older caster said. ¡°And when we¡¯re out of this godforsaken forest, we¡¯ll get some answers from you.¡±


    I felt my mana refilling at a rapid pace, egged on by the flow from the feather in my core. It would take several hours to reach the edge of the forest, and by then my mana would be fully recovered. If I had anything to say about it, they¡¯d get no answers at all.

 Chapter 23: Trek

    Toren Daen


    Our situation looked dire, even after escaping the hornet¡¯s death trap. Vaelum was unconscious after fighting off the acid, causing a visible blow to the morale of the survivors. The four non-mages all had burst eardrums from the ringing blast of my sound grenade, leading them to visible despair and pain. The other members of the party¨Cthe wind caster and the three shields¨Cwere all near the edge of their abilities.


    Our odds looked grim. As the wind caster said, the only reason we hadn¡¯t been devoured yet was because the beasts of the forest hadn¡¯t capitalized on the destruction of the nest. But the night was falling, and I knew from experience the dangers the depths of the Clarwood Forest held.


    In the end, a simple plan was arranged. The three shields would keep a triangular formation around the sentry, wind caster, and remaining unadorned, protecting them from each side. Those in the middle would carry Vaelum, whose wounds had finally been bandaged.


    This plan was laid out by the wind caster, who had taken the role of de facto leader of the convoy after Vaelum¡¯s collapse. His name was Aban, and apparently was an old hand at doing these forest runs. From what I had gathered, he wasn¡¯t directly loyal to Blood Joan: more a contractor who helped expeditions along.


    The remaining mages huddled around a small diagram etched into the dirt by Aban, each reviewing their respective roles.


    ¡°There¡¯s a problem here,¡± I said, modulating my voice with sound once more. My mana had recovered a decent bit in the past fifteen minutes, finally moving me past backlash. The attention of the group shifted to me, wary but not hostile. ¡°This protects you from attacks from the ground, which is certainly the most dangerous spot. But it doesn¡¯t matter how well guarded you are from the sides if you are vulnerable from above.¡±


    Aban looked at me knowingly, drawing another symbol in the dirt. ¡°That is true. Our group will be preoccupied trying to carve our way through this accursed forest, plant by bloody plant. We¡¯re tired, sore, and our attention is already worn thin. We won¡¯t be able to keep an eye on the sky.¡±


    I looked back at the diagram, crossing my hands. My leather gloves felt slick against my palms, the sweat from the past few hours sinking in. ¡°And I noticed you haven¡¯t marked a position for me yet on this plan of yours,¡± I said, seeing his reasoning.


    ¡°We need eyes above us,¡± Aban said. ¡°Before, Meera fulfilled that role, but she decided to leave the company to their death.¡± A wave of anger passed over the crowd at the water caster¡¯s name. A few of the mages bristled, but the earth shield watched me with narrowed eyes. ¡°And considering you managed to follow us through the entire forest from the trees, I¡¯d wager you¡¯re quite at home there.¡± He paused for a moment.


    The mood of the group immediately shifted back to wariness when my tracking was brought up. I ignored the looks, considering the plan on the ground. All things considered, it was probably the best that could be created on such short notice. It was full of holes, but there wasn¡¯t exactly time to patch them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± I said, looking back at Aban. ¡°I¡¯ll keep around the perimeter of the group and send warning shots to you if I spot a group large enough to warrant danger,¡± I added, thinking this over.


    Aban nodded in acceptance. Afterward, he gave a brief rundown of the dangers that we¡¯d be facing as we walked and what to look out for. I shivered as he listed off a dozen different ways we could die if we weren¡¯t careful, but my choice was already made.


    The group prepared to leave not long after, men cinching their straps and cracking their knuckles. The night had finally fallen, but it was difficult to tell in the gloom of the forest canopy. The lanterns were redistributed amongst the group, granting decent visibility to those who stuck around the triangle formation of the shields.


    Aban found me a minute before we were ready to set off.


    ¡°Thank you for staying with us,¡± he said, keeping his voice low. From how he glanced around, I could immediately tell he wasn¡¯t just keeping quiet to avoid attracting beasts. He didn¡¯t want the rest of the party to hear. ¡°For all that your circumstances for following us were¡­ strange,¡± he said, watching me with a knowing look, ¡°Your assistance has been invaluable. I recognize that.¡±


    I sighed, looking over the group once more. The non-mages were shivering in their boots, watching the sky and shuffling about. Not ten minutes ago some were crying on the dirt, their damaged eardrums and relative weakness a perceived death sentence. Another man had simply sat down and begun to write a will of some sort, resigned and numb despite it all.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t leave you all to die,¡± I said honestly. If there was one thing my previous life on Earth ground into me, it was that I was painfully empathetic. Toren held those same feelings to a surprising degree: it was no coincidence that he worked for a surgeon for years. ¡°When I feel like I can make a difference, it is¡­ against my nature to not try.¡±


    Aban peered back at where we came from, a contemplative frown on his face. ¡°I¡¯m not just thanking you for that. I am old, but I am no fool. You could leave right now, bounding through the trees to safety and leaving us to die,¡± he said, his voice near a whisper. ¡°Maybe your mission to track us requires us to stay alive. But I would have given up hope long ago if I believed the worst in people.¡±


    I swallowed, not meeting Aban¡¯s gaze. He nodded to me once more, then moved back to coordinate the trek back to the lighter parts of the forest.


    I shook my head, banishing my emotions. Then with a pulse of telekinesis, I rocketed up into the trees, ready to fight anything that got close to my charges.


    ¡ª


    The first sign of trouble occurred farther out than I expected. The group had been walking for ten minutes or so, their pace slow and hampered by the weak and wounded. I trailed along from the trees, hopping from branch to branch with a small bead of fire conjured nearby to provide light.


    The only warning the shields had was a surprised shout from the sentry. All three hastily put up barriers: one of solid mana, another of ice, and a final wall of earth. Not a second later, something impacted the icy barrier hard.


    It splintered from the impact, causing the shield to grit his teeth. Those behind the chilled wall shuffled back nervously. I caught a glimpse of the creature that had attacked as it quickly retreated into the darkness, ready to probe their defenses once more. The sentry was peering around nervously, trying to watch every location at once.


    He jerked back to the rear, pointing back. ¡°It¡¯s coming from that direction!¡± he called with a slight panic.


    The thing impacted the solid mana barrier, which was guarding the rear from assault. It rippled from the blow, but Aban was ready. A bullet of wind shot past the mana barrier, clearly being allowed through by the guarding shield.


    I didn¡¯t see the spell impact under the cover of the night, but I heard the scream. It sounded disturbingly close to a Tasmanian Devil, which only made me tense on my branch.


    But the yell from the mana beast¨Cwhich I could now see the corpse of¨Cdrew predators from the forest.


    A fireball from my hand launched between a few trees, knocking a large birdlike mana beast out of the sky. Its once pristine white feathers were scorched black under the heat of my spell as it fell out of the sky with a piteous croon. But as the glintfeather died, a half dozen followed in its wake.


    The flock followed in a tight formation, making it easier to spot them in the dark. Their bright white feathers helped them blend in with the leaves of the Clarwood Trees, but it created a contrast amidst the night. My aim would be sure.


    Knowing I couldn¡¯t protect the entire caravan from such high numbers, I called out to the shields below. ¡°Watch your heads!¡± I said, cocking my arm back with a rock in hand. ¡°I¡¯ll get as many as I can, but some might get past me!¡±


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    I didn¡¯t have time to check if the group had heard me. I threw the rock with a burst of white telekinesis. The stone blurred toward one of the birds, clipping its wing and sending it careening into a tree. The rest continued on doggedly, finally above the group.


    I dissuaded them of that notion. Before the corvid-like beasts could descend on my charges, I launched myself bodily through the air, arcing toward the squawking beasts. One turned to face me, and I could feel it charging up some sort of attack in the ambient mana. With a flap, a flurry of small wind blades tore from its wings, racing toward me like a dozen sharp razors. I twisted to avoid as many as I could, but a few cut into my mana shroud. One broke through entirely, scoring a light mark across my ribs.


    I grit my teeth, ignoring the pain. The birds started to try and move as I got close, but it was too late.


    I clapped my hands together as I entered range, a sound too high-pitched for humans to hear emanating from my palms. I focused on keeping the effect within a small range and away from the group on the ground, but the spell was devastating for the mana beasts in my range. They wobbled on the wing, the abrupt sound damaging their sense of balance.


    This was the newest of my ¡®template spells,¡¯ designed to disorient or disrupt enemies in a certain range from me. As my first lessons in the forest were entirely focused on always maintaining my balance and situational awareness, I knew the devastating consequences of losing those things. So I designed a spell that would target the inner ear of unsuspecting enemies: the place where mammals and similar creatures derived much of their sense of balance.


    I careened toward another tree, quickly securing myself on a branch. I turned around in time to see most of the beasts falling out of the sky, flapping desperately to reorient themselves. And Aban, having evidently heard my call earlier, was ready to receive them.


    A salvo of wind bullets punched through the group of mottled birds from below; bloody holes being ripped through their sheer white bodies. But one glintfeather was entirely focused on me. It flew toward me like an arrow, a malevolent sheen in its beady eyes. Focusing, I raised both my hands and flared my crest. I pushed my hands in opposing directions, using the imagery of my movements to guide my casting.


    Two flares of white, one on each wing of the glintfeather, pushed in opposite directions. The bird squawked in surprise, the effect causing its controlled dive toward me to morph into a chaotic struggle of flapping feathers and unnerved caws.


    I slashed quickly with my dagger as the beast passed me, coating my steel with a sheath of flame. The noise of the birdlike beast switched from panicked squawking to subdued gurgles as it tumbled past, the cut I had opened across its gullet cauterized in a grizzly display.


    I shoved the smell of burned feathers and scorched flesh to the back of my mind, instead refocusing on the battle below.


    My nerves ratcheted up several notches when I turned my attention back to the ground. A few panther-like mana beasts lay dead around them, as well as what looked like an impressively large boa constrictor but with shifting colors instead of scales. It was difficult to make out much more, but I could see an unnerving number of eyes reflecting the firelight in the underbrush.


    But the eyes didn¡¯t approach. Instead, several of them bobbed around, tracking toward the downed mana beast I had slain. The other creatures, seemingly sensing the danger involved with attacking what was left of the caravan, instead meandered toward the corpses of the monsters we had killed.


    The group didn¡¯t be need to told twice. They continued toward the edge of the forest, haste in their movements that I could understand.


    The next several hours fell into a terrifying routine. A horde of mana beasts would swoop down from above or ambush the group from the dense foliage, attacking a weakened foe. The group would fight them tooth and nail, taking damage with each encounter.


    Each fight took longer than the last, and I could see injuries piling up. The night called to her children, and they descended from all sides to reap their due. Vaelum still hadn¡¯t awoken; his large body was being carried by the non-mages in revolving turns. The earth shield had broken a few ribs about an hour earlier when a drift ape crashed into him but was pushing on valiantly. The sentry had a cut over his brow that was leaking blood from a bad fall when a large mammalian mana beast almost breached the line.


    The other mages were better off, but not by much. They had been rationing their spells more and more, sticking to direct interventions rather than conjuring a shield to save their energy. They had been forced to change tactics when their mana began to run dry. Two shields would defend the entire convoy while the third focused on recovering their mana. When another fight ensued, the third mage would replace the first, and continue on.


    I had begun to take a far more active role in the defense as the main defenders flagged. My muscles burned and my mind stuttered on each attempted spell, the long night¡¯s activities burning away at nearly every form of stamina I had. But my mana core was nearly full, despite flinging spells and launching attacks at every moment I could. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was with immense relief that I finally noticed the change in vegetation ahead. The attacks from beasts had gotten more sporadic in the past half hour, allowing our company more rest between battles. But that meant we were closer than ever to our destination.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there!¡± I called down excitedly. ¡°I can see the perimeter gap! We¡¯re almost safe!¡±


    The lighter parts of the forest were notably easier to fight through, with weaker mana beasts like skaunters and barkskin grohds as the standard.


    My call invigorated the exhausted convoy, driving them onward faster. The vegetation lessened noticeably, and the Clarwood Trees became significantly smaller. Once the entire group had crossed the barrier, I dropped from the trees in relief.


    Aban was surveying the night forest with a weary smile, his gray-flecked hair almost black in the darkness. He turned to me as I landed, and his smile faded away. ¡°And so we are alive,¡± he said with a slight chuckle. I could barely feel his mana at all. He slumped against a nearby tree, then slid to the floor. He had contributed the most to the battles after me, leaving him barely able to stand. ¡°And not another casualty. I¡¯ll have to thank you again, Dusk,¡± he said, closing his eyes.


    I spared a glance at the rest of the crew. They had moved a considerable distance away from the edge of the deep forest and were beginning to set up a camp.


    I looked back at the old man, slumped against the tree. Indecision warred in my gut. I had fought with these men and bled to keep them alive. But my original intent for trailing this expedition remained the same: get as much information as I could from the leaders about Blood Joan. What I needed to do felt like a betrayal.


    Aban¡¯s next words cut across my thoughts. ¡°Well?¡± he said, a note of amusement in his tone. ¡°Ask your questions, Dusk. What do you want to know about Blood Joan?¡±


    I refocused my attention fully on the prone man, confusion and guilt rising in my stomach. I clenched my fist in turns. ¡°How did you know my intent?¡± I asked with a whisper, feeling my shoulders slump.


    Aban chuckled but didn¡¯t open his eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t until just now. It was a reasonable guess.¡± He huffed a bit. ¡°Besides, an old rival of mine got a back full of pebbles because of you a few days ago after he tried to assault the Rats. It makes sense you¡¯d want to know something about my employer. Easy correlation.¡±


    I groaned, feeling a need to massage the bridge of my nose. My mask, however, foiled those plans. For all that I had planned to interrogate someone, I wasn¡¯t entirely prepared to actually do it. At least the old man seemed quite amenable to me. ¡°Look, I need you to tell me what you know about Blood Joan. Where do they usually invest their funds? Where can I expect them to regularly be? What would really get their attention? That kind of thing.¡±


    Aban finally opened his eyes and gave me a very flat look. ¡°You¡¯re not very good at this, son,¡± he said. I glared at him from under my mask, crossing my arms in front of me. I really, really didn¡¯t want to hurt somebody for information.


    Aban shook his head, then brought his staff over his knees. ¡°Fine, fine. I don¡¯t know much, Dusk. I assume your intended target was Vaelum, but that¡¯s fallen through,¡± he said, inclining his head knowingly toward where Vaelum was carefully laid on the ground under a tarp. ¡°But I do know something I think you¡¯ll appreciate. Blood Joan¡¯s struggling financially. I don¡¯t know all the details, and I suspect few really do. But their last few business ventures have been exceedingly bold. And in some lights, outright desperate.¡±


    He looked at me knowingly. ¡°This expedition would be considered desperate?¡± I asked, surprised.


    He sighed, thumping his head against the tree. I felt I could match the weary lines of his face to the wrinkles of bark just behind it. ¡°Not by itself, no. But the sheer number of unadorned they employed¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not right, sending non-mages into the depths of that forest. But the pay they offered¨Cwhich was well below what is usually given to us mages¨Cwas more than many of those men make in a month.¡±


    I looked at the four surviving unadorned in growing horror. Puzzle pieces began to click into place. ¡°They sent those men in there to die,¡± I said in understanding. ¡°Just to collect the nest material and burn away after.¡±


    Aban nodded. ¡°It looks like Joan couldn¡¯t afford the normal outfit of mages to journey into this forest, so they filled the ranks with wogart fodder instead.¡± His ensuing exhale was full of a depressing resignation. ¡°And after the disastrous failure of this mission, I doubt these men will even be paid for their work. It¡¯s a mess.¡±


    The wind caster¡¯s eyes sharpened. ¡°There¡¯s more to this, Dusk. I don¡¯t know what. But I¡¯ve been traveling into this forest as a guide for many, many years. No matter how desperate Blood Joan is for cash, this is too reckless. Unless they needed the acidbeam paper themselves for some unfathomable reason, I don¡¯t see why they¡¯d take such a risk.¡±


    I noticed the earth shield begin to walk toward us, causing me to tense. ¡°Thank you for this,¡± I said quietly, meeting Aban¡¯s gaze one last time. ¡°I¡¯ll make a difference here. I promise you.¡±


    Aban smiled sadly, brushing his hair out of his face. ¡°We all think that when we are young,¡± he said.


    I launched into the trees once more, the shouts of the earth shield to come back and face him echoing in my ears.

 Chapter 24: A Letter

    Toren Daen


    I settled myself in the protective embrace of a great Clarwood Tree, trusting that I wouldn¡¯t fall or be prey to an ambush. My arms burned with every move I made, mirroring bone-deep exhaustion that seeped from my pores.


    I pulled off my mask, grateful to finally be rid of the metal clinging to my sweat-slick face. The cool breeze of the late autumn night was a welcome balm to my soul, weathering away the tension of the day. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stared off into the sky through a light canopy of sheer white leaves, a layer of clouds obscuring the stars. A growing feeling welled in my chest, pushing away many of my other thoughts. But my vision quickly darkened as the Unseen engulfed my vision.


    Lady Dawn was sitting on a branch not far from me, the purple-orange glow around her form casting everything in a dusky light. She looked contemplative, gazing up into the sky just as I was.


    ¡°Are the stars the same here as what you see in Epheotus?¡± I asked, genuinely curious. I knew the homeland of the asura was a pocket dimension of some sort, but how much was real, and how much was fake?


    Lady Dawn was silent for a time. ¡°Epheotus is an attempt at perfect beauty,¡± she said at last. ¡°But there is an imperfection in everything, even the stars in the cosmos.¡± The was silent for a beat. ¡°One would see an illusory aurora every night, stretching across the sky like a green-blue blanket, encompassing everything in flawless light,¡± she said, nostalgia in her voice. ¡°But there is a beauty in imperfection, one that Epheotus will never achieve because the land itself despises the concept.¡±


    The silence stretched between us comfortably, but I couldn¡¯t let it stay. ¡°You know, in my previous world,¡± I said, withholding a sigh, ¡°One of the things that nearly every early culture of humans did was watch the stars.¡± I sniffed slightly. ¡°They did all sorts of amazing things. Made astrolabes, sundials, ways to navigate the world just by their alignment over your head.¡± I gestured vaguely at the clouded sky. ¡°It took amazing minds to do that. The best humanity had to offer, striving toward something better. Real creativity and ingenuity.¡±


    I thought of the path I had ahead, where so much of my new life would be fraught with danger, death, and battle. I barely made it out of this last scuffle alive, and my foes were nothing compared to what would stand in my way of simple freedom.


    ¡°And centuries later, humans became even more grand! The cosmos themselves was our final frontier,¡± I said, staring at the gray darkness. It was cold tonight, probably near freezing. From my constant cycling of mana and endless physical activity, I hadn¡¯t even noticed until now.


    ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m not any of those things,¡± I continued with a bitter laugh. ¡°I¡¯m not a brilliant mathemetician, able to predict the time of day by measuring the sun. I can¡¯t send a man into space through the power of rocketry. And I¡¯m not some hyper genius with a sword and master of all four elemental affinities,¡± I added self-deprecatingly, the true weight of my promises settling against my bones. ¡°I barely made it out of that expedition alive. And that¡¯s the norm for this world.¡±


    How many more times will this world just hand me what I need? I thought despondently, remembering the strangely compliant Aban. How long can I get by retaining my morals? The principles that make me me?


    In the slurry of chaos that pressed against my mind, the question of who I was lingered in the shadow of every thought. When I slowed down to think; took breaks between training or allowed my mind to wander, unanswerable questions coasted around the edges of my mind.


    ¡®Who are you?¡¯ The shades of thought whispered with sly grins and malevolent intent. ¡®Are you from Earth? Are you Alacryan? Which parts of you belong?¡¯


    The questions loped around the outskirts of everything I did, calling my reasoning for every action into question. Was it Toren who would do this, or me? Where did Toren end and I begin?


    The only thing I was sure of¨Cfor no reason I could even discern¨Cwas my conviction for vengeance in Norgan¡¯s name. That was something that every part of my self agreed on. But everything else?


    ¡°You doubt yourself,¡± Lady Dawn said, cutting across my thoughts with her prim tone. ¡°You doubt your ability to complete the task you promised. To uphold the Contract we have made to thwart Agrona¡¯s plans. You do not believe yourself¡­ worthy.¡± She peered at me with eyes that flared with solar light. It struck me once more how emotive they were. She lacked any discernible pupil or sclera, but I could somehow read so much in those eyes.


    I turned away from the phoenix¡¯s shade, shame building in my chest as she called out my shortcomings. I had made a promise to her; power in exchange for vengeance. And I was already having doubts. My mouth felt dry.


    ¡°People died today,¡± I said hoarsely. ¡°So many died. I¡¯ve asked myself a dozen times if I could¡¯ve saved more. If I could¡¯ve been faster, or applied my magic in a better way.¡± I remembered the man who died under my watch, his stomach dissolving underneath him. The terrified eyes of the last few men escaping the containment of the hornets haunted me. ¡°If I can¡¯t save a few non-mages, how can I defeat a Scythe?¡±


    The quiet of the night lingered, interceded only by the occasional howl of a mana beast deep in the forest and the chirping of crickets. ¡°You are not alone in your doubt,¡± Lady Dawn said at last, causing me to wince at the rebuke. My mask creaked in my arms, the metal straining against my strength. It made sense that she would harbor questions about my abilities as well. If I could see my own faults with such clarity, a being with power such as Lady Dawn¡¯s must see them even deeper.


    ¡°I do not know if my training can bring you to where you need to be, Contractor,¡± she added, a somber note in her voice. ¡°You vowed to do all in your power to forestall the descent of the Legacy. In turn, I promised to grant you power to the best of my abilities.¡±


    I looked at the phoenix in growing shock. ¡°What?¡± I asked, my voice hoarse from crying. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said again, not sure I understood.


    ¡°I fought Agrona once. I used everything I had and still came up short. I waged a battle against a foe with millennia of experience and knowledge behind me, pushing me onward toward victory. But I fell short of that victory.¡± she said, peering at me from the side of her eyes. ¡°Does my own doubt scare you, Contractor? I promised you power. But that power may not be enough.¡±


    I swallowed. Did her doubt scare me?


    It should. This was an asura, the closest thing to a physical god this world had. For her to admit any sort of weakness should put my enemies into a grand perspective. She would grant me power, but what use was strength that was already deemed insufficient?


    But it didn¡¯t. Lady Dawn¡¯s fear anchored me to my task in a way I hadn¡¯t felt before. I felt alone in my thoughts and fears; a sole man displaced on a mission to thwart those with power he could barely comprehend. I was thrust into an unfamiliar world with nobody to share my burdens; nobody who could comprehend my upcoming battles.


    But I wasn¡¯t exactly alone, was I? Lady Dawn was far from her home, displaced from her own comforts and luxuries. She had power and knew it well, but also understood where that strength failed.


    We both had cast our lifelines to an unlikely source, it seemed.


    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t,¡± I responded at last. ¡°That soothes me, actually. I do not feel so alone.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s lip upturned the barest of a fraction, the asura cocking her head in response. ¡°You speak the truth, Contractor. That surprises me.¡±


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    I chuckled slightly, my mood settling into something more stable. ¡°What about that surprises you?¡± I asked curiously. ¡°Speaking the truth at all, or the fact that I believe what I say?¡±


    Lady Dawn hummed. It was a surprisingly musical tone, though I doubted she intended it that way. ¡°Both. Rarely do my kind speak words without hidden meaning. Such earnesty is only found within our youth.¡±


    ¡°It seems a shame that an entire race would be doomed to speak in politics,¡± I said honestly. My eyelids were starting to weigh heavily upon my brow. After the long events of the past day, the loss of adrenaline and release of so much stress was finally reminding me of the need for slumber. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine you would be able to trust anyone at all.¡±


    ¡°When the alternative is for an entire race to speak with the blade and bow,¡± Lady Dawn said matter-of-factly, ¡°Politics is much preferred. Words come before violence, even if it is a facade in many a case.¡± A slight pause marked her next words. ¡°But that does not mean the loss of honesty is not mourned.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I asked, forcefully keeping myself awake. ¡°And how do the asura mourn the loss of honesty? With grand balls and auroras across their skies?¡±


    Lady Dawn quieted once more. ¡°By salvaging what was left,¡± she said at last.


    I felt a spot of cold grow in my chest. Above me, the first snowfall of the year slowly drifted from the sky, covering all in a haze of white.


    ¡ª


    I awoke from a fitful sleep. The ground was dusted with a light layer of snow, washing everything in a blanket of white. It blended in remarkably with the colorless leaves above, creating a strange collage of brown and white where the trunks of trees intersected the leaves and snow.


    I still felt exhausted. My sleep on the tree branch wasn¡¯t comfortable by any means, and nightmares of men dying plagued my dreams.


    The trip back to the edge of the forest was remarkably quick. I stood out like a spot of paint amidst a white canvas. My outfit, which I had originally purchased for stealth, instead made me stick out like a skaunter in a coffee shop.


    But no mana beasts tried to challenge me. By now, my killing intent was enough to cow most in the lighter stretches of the Clarwood Forest. I had slain enough of their ilk that I felt confident fighting any of them.


    I lightly washed in the frigid waters of a stream, trying to imagine my failures washing away with the sweat. It didn¡¯t work, but the effort was important.


    Once I vaulted over the walls of Fiachra with a mix of telekinesis and mana-enhanced strength, I found a secluded alleyway to change into my normal civilian garb. The city was more lethargic this morning than I had yet seen.


    As I slowly wandered the streets of South Fiachra toward my makeshift hideaway in the East district, I noted the changes to the city. Most noticeably, It was strikingly warm. After a quick minute of inspection, I realized the road itself emitted heat in a wave, like a hot plate dispelling its heat into the sky. It didn¡¯t take much thought to realize why.


    It melts the snow away, I realized with interest. And funnels it toward the sewers


    That was better than the methods of Earth, where the constant use of salt would gradually weather away the roads. I assumed some sort of artifact powered the heating, running under every major street.


    I was proven wrong when the temperature abruptly dropped as I stepped past the boundary line for East Fiachra. With mana cycling through my limbs, I was able to ward away most of the cold with only my hooded cloak. Most of the people I could see were bundled up much more, wrapped in layers of wool and cloth.


    A small pathway through the cobbles was cleared of slush and snow to allow foot traffic. There wasn¡¯t too much snow in the way, but the contrast from the wealthier streets of South Fiachra stuck with me.


    I slowly meandered through the morning hustle and bustle toward the derelict building whose rooftop I had claimed. As I wove out of the way of a rushing child, I pondered the information I had received from Aban.


    Blood Joan is taking risks, he had said. Big ones if they were using non-mages for such a dangerous job deep into the forest. I grit my teeth at the remembrance of dissolved corpses and dead men. With an effort of will, I suppressed the images. I needed to think rationally.


    Aban had claimed that Blood Joan seemed tight on cash. That wasn¡¯t much information by itself, but it opened up a slew of opportunities. It told me where I could hit the Joans where it hurt: in their wallet. But that also brought another flurry of questions. Why were they strapped for cash? Did they incur debts, or was it a result of lavish spending? Perhaps a business deal went wrong?


    Ultimately, it didn¡¯t matter. I needed more information, though. Specifically on what industries or ventures the Joans tended to invest in. If I knew that, I could work to actively sabotage them.


    That won¡¯t bring you closer to your vengeance, a voice whispered from the depths of my mind. You¡¯re casting darts into the sea, hoping one will stick a fish in the murky waters below. How close are you to actually avenging your brother? It asked, brushing against the edges of my thoughts. What does this actually do to bring Norgan¡¯s murderers closer to the edge of your knife?


    I stamped out those thoughts with the same relentless force I used to quash my guilt over the dead men in the Clarwood Forest. I couldn¡¯t afford to second-guess myself now; not with how far I had come. I had revealed myself to the Joans prematurely by saving the Rats, and the remains of the expedition crew would no doubt bring my description to the powers-that-be of Blood Joan soon enough. I could not backtrack.


    I reached an alleyway beneath the rooftops. I quickly checked both ways, then leaped into the air. I wall-jumped a couple of times, using the momentum to propel me onto the roof.


    Everything looked as I had left it, except covered by a thin blanket of snow. My rough firepit was blackened with the ashen remains of my makeshift fuel, and the tarp I stretched from a spire to an abandoned roof access door protected a small area from the elements.


    But something was wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, prickling against my cloak. I stood frozen, suddenly feeling as cold as the snow around my feet. I surveyed the rooftop, watching the horizon and turning in a slow circle.


    Sensing another person was a lot like the innate sense that someone was watching you, but fine-tuned and pumped up to eleven. It was a skill that took some time to master but was lifesaving in the depths of the Clarwood Forest when beasts constantly wanted to rip a piece out of you.


    And those senses were warning me. I didn¡¯t feel any outright threat in the way bloodlust exuded, but it was never good to be watched in the first place.


    As I completed a full revolution scan of my surroundings, I looked back down at the ground.


    There was a change. A letter sat propped over an extruding log of my makeshift fireplace, taunting me with its appearance. It was in a dark grey envelope, and though I could tell it was sealed with wax, I couldn¡¯t make out the symbol from this distance.


    Cautiously approaching, I scanned the area around the letter. I felt hesitant to touch it. What if it was a bomb? Or was packed with some sort of lethal substance? I¡¯d rather not get the magical equivalent of anthrax poisoning.


    Swallowing my fear, I picked up the letter from the ground. I couldn¡¯t sense any mana signature from it, which was a slight relief. What wasn¡¯t a relief was the message on the front of the envelope.


    In elegant swooping letters, a message was laid out on the front.


    Toren Daen.


    My heart froze in my chest. I had been discovered by someone, and they left a calling card. I would have to move. Was it from Blood Joan? I didn¡¯t know anybody else who would contact me out of the blue. I knew my element of surprise was compromised, but not to this degree. They had already tracked me down.


    Mana leaked from my core, thrumming throughout my body as I prepared myself for a fight. If Blood Joan left a card, then no doubt that bitch of a lightning striker would be here to try and finish the job. I clenched a fist, the creak of my leather gloves my only solace.


    My breath misted on the air. I moved about the rooftop slowly, this time looking for targets. They had been able to sneak up on me while I was searching for them last time, so I didn¡¯t expect to see them until it was possibly too late.


    Instead, my eyes zeroed in on a small pattering of footprints in the snow leading from the edge of the rooftop to the middle of the campfire. They were difficult to see in the dawn light, but with my shadow cast over them, they became apparent. From where I was standing before, the glint of the sun would¡¯ve made them nearly invisible to the naked eye.


    From some sort of rodent? I thought with alarm. I looked down at the letter in my hand, turning it over to peek at the seal.


    No, I realized with a start. Not just any rodent.


    Stamped in red wax, the seal used to clamp my letter shut displayed the caricature of a specific kind of critter. With long buck teeth, notable whiskers, little round ears, and a prominent snout, the insignia that kept the envelope sealed was easily familiar.


    It was a rat.

 Chapter 25: Invitation

    Lawrent Joan


    I glared at the young mage before me, the weight of my anger causing her to shy away in fear. She was dirty and unkempt, and with the darting fear on her face, she seemed nothing more than a prey animal instead of a proud mage.


    ¡°I said, speak!¡± I snarled, clenching my fist over my desk. ¡°You are the only one to return from the Clarwood Forest expedition. That is unacceptable, and I will have answers!¡±


    The woman flinched at the heat in my words. Were I in a more amiable mood, I might have enjoyed the reaction. But the glaring problem of Blood Joan¡¯s doomed convoy boiled the blood in my veins.


    ¡°I- we made it to the nest just fine, sir,¡± she stuttered. ¡°All the mages made it there. Lost a few unads, but nobody cared about them.¡± The woman looked at me, then averted her gaze. ¡°We planned to attack the nest before dark because the beastwards would go bad if we waited through the night. We got set up to attack the nest just fine. You know, throw them at the hive then detonate them?¡±


    The woman licked her lips. The light was low, but the light from the sconces on the wall highlighted the sheen of sweat over her dirt-stained forehead. ¡°Yeah, we managed to do that just fine. Knocked the awful hive out of the tree, then slew the queen. Our unads started harvesting the acidbeam paper not long after. Didn¡¯t go as fast as a mage would¡¯ve, though.¡±


    The mage peeked behind her at Kaelan, who stood silent as a tomb a few paces back. My sister¡¯s posture was rigid and sharp, taught like a bowstring ready to fire. No, it was closer to a barely restrained viper waiting to lash out. Through my own simmering anger, I noted that. Kaelan was deathly angry as well.


    ¡°They got along for a few minutes, but then we heard it.¡± The woman shuddered, clutching at the wand held in a holster at her side. ¡°The buzzing, like a thousand tiny lightning spells coming for us. It grew and grew, and we knew that something was coming for us¡­¡±


    Kaelan¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Tell him what you told me,¡± she said with a growl. ¡°About the mage.¡±


    The caster nodded. ¡°Yes, sir. Before we saw what was coming, a mage leapt from the trees. Someone not from our convoy. They threw fire at the horde, but it barely killed half a dozen. There were hundreds.¡± The caster shook her head. ¡°There was another nest somewhere.¡±


    I resisted the urge to call my mana into my hands and smite the ground. ¡°Another mage, you said? And this was a person not with the expedition?¡±


    ¡°They were dressed in dark colors, and when the monsters surrounded us, I didn¡¯t get a chance to see him better. They started raining hell from above. It was awful. Some of us managed to put up shields; protect ourselves. But the screams, the buzzing¡­ I was lucky to get out alive.¡±


    I slammed my fist into my desk, sending a tremor through the wood. It creaked from the pressure I forced into it, and I had to restrain my urge to break it in two. The girl yelped, stumbling back at my display.


    ¡°Tell me. About. The mage.¡± I annunciated through clenched teeth.


    ¡°Right, sir. I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, shuffling in place. ¡°Later on, he came to me in the area¨CI was holding a shield over myself¨Cand told me to go to the rest of the shields that were holding out from the attacks. But I didn¡¯t stay. They were all doomed.¡±


    ¡°What did he look like?¡± I interrupted.


    ¡°He had a dark metal mask,¡± she said. ¡°An old vicar¡¯s mask. It had the horns and everything. But the voice was strange, grating and painful. He told me to help¨C¡±


    The recollection of a few days ago when I had discussed the last survivor of Named Blood Daen lurched to the forefront of my mind in dreadful clarity. Pieces began to fall into place in my head as the girl continued to ramble.


    ¡°--And so I left. They were going to die, and they wanted to take me with them,¡± she said with a stammer. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to stay around with them!¡±


    I exhaled a snarl, and a bolt of lightning arced from my breath. It struck a spot near the whining mage, causing to her stumble back in fear. She fell onto her rear, covering her head and muttering apologies, but my mind was already elsewhere.


    Toren Daen had dared to interrupt our operations once more. And if he was working with the Rats, what the upstart boy had just done went leagues beyond simple robbery. He had gone out of his way to hurt us. To bleed our Blood. And without the nest paper, Blood Joan wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up production of our premium product. Our control would slip even further. We¡¯d fall down to the nobodies we were before my father wiped Named Blood Daen off the map.


    ¡°You said you left them?¡± I said, mana thrumming in my veins. ¡°Is there any chance that they could still live? The rest of the convoy, or the strange mage himself?¡± I asked.


    The girl shook her head. ¡°No, there was no chance. It was an entire hive, sir. Emblem mages have died to less,¡± she said.


    At least the Daen was likely dead now. It was a poor solace for the utter damage his actions had caused. He should be alive now, whimpering in the dungeons as I stripped him of his flesh. I should be peeling the skin from his bones.


    Dornar strode into the room unannounced, a smirk on his face. I ground my teeth as I watched him break protocol, the sound causing his smile to stretch slightly.


    ¡°Just got more news of the expedition, brother!¡± he said with fake cheer. ¡°A few of the men made it back! Barely got out of that forest alive I hear, but at least they have their skin!¡±


    I exhaled thunder from my nose. ¡°And why did you dare to interrupt me now?¡± I asked, calculations on how to recover our distillery¡¯s operation running through my head. What did we have left?


    Dornar spared a glance at our sister. ¡°Well, they have an interesting story to tell about how they got out of the Clarwood Forest, one that I think you¡¯d all like to hear.¡± He peered down at the mage that was still on her rear, the weight of his attention causing her to whimper. ¡°In fact, I think this one would love to reunite with her good old companions.¡±


    The mage curled into a ball, making Dornar¡¯s smirk curl up at the edges.


    ¡°Tell me what is so important, Dornar,¡± I said, knowing that any display of emotion would simply fuel his antics. I needed to control myself. ¡°Why have you burst into my study again?¡±


    ¡°Wellll,¡± Dornar said, holding the last syllable. ¡°The few men that got out alive have a remarkable tale to tell! Daring escapes, fabulous heists, glorious battles¨C¡±


    ¡°The point, Dornar.¡±


    ¡°--And dashing heroes, pulling them from their doom! In fact, such a hero is very familiar to us. His tale sounds like those out of stories, too. With how everything is lining up, we must be mighty fine villains for his little saga.¡±


    ¡°Toren Daen lives?¡±


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    ¡°That he does!¡± my brother said.


    I couldn¡¯t contain my rage any longer. It burst from my chest in a guttural growl. Lightning coalesced around my fist as I slammed it into my desk, splitting the precious wood in two.


    Toren Daen


    I looked the structure up and down. It was a relatively large, rectangular building, with architecture reminiscent of older medieval times. The mortar was cracked in a dozen places, with paint that had dulled years ago. It was tall, with barely visible engravings around the smashed stained glass.


    I was in the true slums of Fiachra. Toren had lived on the outskirts of East Fiachra all his life, but he had never delved deeper into the poorest district of the city. On the edges, he could masquerade as lower-middle class.


    He was lucky.


    Further east into the district, I was forced to see true despair. Rundown buildings, dirtied streets, and a surprising lack of waterways. The canals that formed the lifeblood of the Fiachran economy simply dried up in the depths of this place, circumventing the poor like arteries avoided a tumor.


    I kept to the rooftops, but small huddles of grizzled men and women surrounding a burning firepit were not uncommon. People in rags slumped on the side of the road, ratty blankets covering them poorly. The first snow might not affect me nearly as much, but it clearly would reap terrible tolls on the downtrodden of the slums.


    Many had distinctive yellow-green patches visible over their uncovered skin, perhaps from some sort of disease. If so, it was disturbingly common.


    When I first crossed into East Fiachra, I was surprised that the people were not overtly hostile, more consumed by exhaustion. But I could sense the anger simmering in the atmosphere here, like a starving canine bearing its teeth at anything that got too close.


    This all lead me to a very uncomfortable state of mind as I stood before my destination. I was dressed in my Dusk getup once again, clothed in all black with long, fingerless gloves and a trailing hooded cloak. My mask sat snugly on my face, the weathered metal faceplate trapping my warm breath from escaping into the afternoon air.


    I withdrew the letter that drew me here from my dimension ring, reading it over one more time for good measure.


    To Toren Daen,


    Hello, good sir! We of the Company of the Rat hope this letter finds you in good health. Considering your current endeavors, it is understandable if your health does not agree with your actions. Nonetheless, our merry band would like to extend you an offer; one that would be unwise to ignore.


    If you wish to parlay, meet at the old temple in East Fiachra before Dusk. What we have to offer is certain to catch your attention. After all, you are not the only one with debts Blood Joan must pay.


    Signed,


    The Rat


    I traced over the words for the dozenth time, confirming again that the Company of the Rat knew my identity. ¡®Before Dusk¡¯ was rather obvious. I wasn¡¯t sure if the mention of the offer being ¡®unwise to ignore¡¯ was a subtle threat or a genuine assumption.


    I peered over at the temple from a short distance away, crouched on a nearby rooftop. It was taller than most of the buildings this deep into slum territory and might have once been grand, but time had stripped it of any glory it once enjoyed. I could see from the remains of periodically placed windows that it was once ornamented in stained glass, but now it was mostly boarded up.


    I spied one of the window slots. After a quick check down nearby walkways to make sure none were watching, I dropped to the ground silently. I moved quickly to the wall of the temple, then scurried up it with a combination of telekinesis and reaching for obvious handholds. Then I slithered through a smashed window, quickly surveying my surroundings.


    The inside was a wide and open space, not dissimilar to the layout of churches in my previous world. There was smashed furniture about, along with a persistent coating of dust across nearly every surface. Support beams held the ceiling aloft in regular positions, but several visible breaks in the roof allowed the elements through. What looked like an altar stood broken near the end of the building. The late afternoon light streamed through a broken window pane, illuminating the old area of worship in a hazy glow.


    At the very back of the temple, a faded mosaic of a basilisk¡¯s human form was shrouded in black fire, small mortals supplicating at its feet. The scarlet red eyes of the asura seemed to bore into me from across the room, digging into my secrets with barely a stare.


    I suppressed a shudder.


    I quickly checked my surroundings once again. Seeing I was alone, I bounded up into the tall rafters, crouching down and settling in for a long wait. I had arrived early intentionally, as I needed some way to offset the power balance of this initial meeting.


    The Company of the Rat held all the cards. They ¡®invited¡¯ me to this meeting, disclosing they knew of my identity openly. They set the time and place, not giving me room for input. It was clear who held the power in this, but the act of arriving early allowed me to be more precise. Check for traps, scout the area, and make sure I wasn¡¯t being goaded into any danger.


    So far, I spotted no obvious traps, so I was in for the long haul. It was several hours till dusk, which was the ¡®agreed upon¡¯ meeting time.


    As I waited, I ran over what I knew about the Rats. I had helped two of them escape Blood Joan¡¯s pursuit: an older man and a young woman. The young woman called herself the Young Rat, and had botched a thieving attempt against the Joans. Afterward, she provided me with the time and location of Blood Joan¡¯s Clarwood Forest expedition. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I still felt like I owed the woman for that, which was part of the reason I was here at all. I didn¡¯t like feeling so powerless. But from what the Company had given me once before, I knew their information could be credible.


    I was taken out of my reverie by the sound of small feet pitter-pattering on the ground. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for me to pick up on the noises of rodents out and about in the streets of Fiachra, and even moreso in the darkness of the Clarwood Forest. My sense of hearing was far better than I expected any other comparable mage to have.


    I tuned out the sound reflexively, acknowledging it and letting it drift past. It was almost dusk now, and the ¡®meeting¡¯ would be any time now.


    ¡°What¡¯re you looking for?¡± A voice whispered against my ear. I whirled in surprise on the thin beam of wood that served as my perch, drawing and slashing with my dagger in one instinctive motion.


    I knew before I was done with my strike that I had missed. There was no feeling of contact; no slight resistance of steel parting flesh. Instead, a man outlined in a misty aura backed away from the edge of my knife, narrowly avoiding the cut. He backpedaled across the beam, his hands locked behind his head. A familiar masquerade mask that mimicked an exaggerated rat¡¯s snout adorned his upper face. A light bandana was pulled over his mouth, but I could hear him whistle.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got bite, Dusk!¡± he said, balancing with ease across from me. The man flickered, then dispersed into a light, foggy mist.


    ¡°I like that,¡± the same voice said from below. ¡°That shows initiative.¡±


    I cursed, then looked down at the ground. The man was now lounging on the altar. The sunlight framed his body brilliantly, making him look like some sort of macabre sacrifice being taken up by gods of the sun. The way he splayed would¡¯ve looked better on the cover of Vogue, though. ¡°Instincts like that aren¡¯t easy to train,¡± he said conversationally. The mist that floated around him in coasting ribbons refracted the light strangely.


    I dropped from the rafters, landing soundlessly on the floor. I narrowed my eyes at the man. ¡°You¡¯re the Rat, I presume?¡± I asked with mild annoyance, inferring from the signature at the bottom of my letter. I had perched up there for several hours to avoid this exact kind of situation. Something about the man seemed wrong, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on what.


    This man had snuck up on me without alerting any of my senses. I hadn¡¯t even heard him approach, much less noticed him until he made himself known. Habits built in the Clarwood Forest insisted I run, escaping from this unknown factor. Unknown meant dangerous, and dangerous meant you died.


    I forcefully quieted those feelings. I couldn¡¯t back out now.


    The Rat didn¡¯t move, still lounging on the altar. ¡°You presume correct, young mage,¡± he said. I heard a few footsteps across the wooden floor of the temple. I turned to see two familiar people moving from the side to flank their leader. The Young Rat, her shoulder-length black hair framing her masquerade mask, moved with graceful confidence as she strode into position beside her leader. The axe-wielding mage leaned against a support pillar a few feet away, casually pulling on a cigar. The smoke drifted up, a strange mirror to the dense water vapor whirling around the Rat.


    The Rat shifted positions to stand once more, giving a theatrical bow. As he swept his hand down, the sun lit up at his back, casting the man in an outline of light. I recognized the gesture from how the Young Rat introduced herself to me the first time, but this introduction somehow seemed more grand. Where before I was witnessing an imitation, this had an air of mastery about it.


    ¡°We are the Company of the Rat,¡± the man introduced. ¡°And I think we can do much to help you.¡±

 Chapter 26: Offer

    Toren Daen


    I shifted into a more stable stance, but resheathed my dagger. ¡°And what makes you think I need the help of a group of... ¡®wealth reinvestors?¡¯¡± I asked, using the Young Rat¡¯s amusing rationalization for thievery. ¡°From where I stand, we have nothing to do with each other.¡±


    The Rat shook his head. That comical mask had no right to look so good on a person. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting something, Dusk. We do have something you need. In fact, I think you need it very much.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    ¡°Information,¡± he responded, a glimmer in his eye. ¡°The most valuable of currencies. Everybody needs it, and nobody has enough. And you, my young Daen, are in most dire need of it.¡±


    I finally pinpointed why the Rat felt so wrong to me. I couldn¡¯t sense him at all. Sure, I could see the man and he made noise, allowing me to negotiate. But the ever so slight tingling sensation of being watched; of having a person¡¯s attention on you? The constant weight in the ambient mana that indicated a mage stood there, unconsciously pressing onto the ambient mana with their intent?


    That just didn¡¯t exist for the man. I could sense the subtle gaze of the Young Rat, and even the older axe wielder. But not their leader.


    His relaxed air irritated me. I felt my brow twitch under my mask, his casual utterance of my true identity reminding me of my situation. It was a subtle barb that proved his point remarkably well. He had information about me and about my circumstances. He used that to highlight the fact that I had none.


    I narrowed my eyes, then sat down in a nearby pew. The wood creaked under my weight, but it thankfully held. I nonchalantly slung an arm over the back, relaxing my posture. Internally, I ramped the mana from my core. I would be ready to move at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°It is a universal truth that everybody wants to know something about somebody else,¡± I said casually. ¡°But one must always be careful of the source. After all, every informant has their own goals and aspirations.¡± I looked across the trio. ¡°I admit my ignorance in regards to many things, but there are a dozen different ways to alleviate that ignorance.¡± I centered my attention back on the Rat. ¡°Yes, I need information. But what makes you think I should bargain with you?¡±


    My answer seemed to please the Rat. He nodded, taking my reply in stride. ¡°Well, as reinvestors in the economy, we tend to hear very interesting things through the underground. We keep an eye on our customers, after all. And one interesting thing was the recent announcement from Blood Joan themselves, sent to all their internal forces and allies.¡± The Rat¡¯s mask of good cheer fell and he regarded me with utter seriousness. I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. ¡°You¡¯ve got a kill-on-sight order, Toren Daen, from half the Bloods in Fiachra.¡±


    ¡°What did you say?¡± I asked in shock, leaning forward.


    The Rat leaned against the altar. ¡°Pardon my impropriety, but you¡­ kicked a hornet¡¯s nest by interrupting that acidbeam nest expedition. Blood Joan has some weighty connections, and they pulled in a lot of favors in the past couple of hours setting a watch across the city for your hide,¡± the thief said. ¡°Something that would¡¯ve been amazing to know at the time, I¡¯d think. A benefit of information.¡±


    I blinked incredulously, entirely thrown by the event. ¡°But I helped save what was left of that expedition!¡± I said, baffled. ¡°Why the hell would they want me dead even more?¡± I added, my composure broken by the news. If what the Rat said was true, it had dangerous implications.


    ¡°They don¡¯t particularly care, my friend-to-be,¡± The Rat replied, a bit of his previous guile returning to his face. ¡°Luckily for you, you¡¯ve just so managed to be in the least-regulated district of Fiachra for the last afternoon, entirely away from the majority of Bloods keeping an eye out for you. Isn¡¯t that a happy coincidence?¡± He gave me a winning smile. I couldn¡¯t see it under his bandana, but I swear I could feel it.


    I wanted to punch his smug teeth in, but I owed him one for that. If what he was telling me was correct, I likely escaped encirclement by immediately following his letter.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t going the way I thought it would,¡± I said at last, slumping in my seat. The need to maintain a mask and put on airs in my meeting with the Rats felt wholly insignificant in the face of a manhunt looking for me. My patience for posturing vanished like mist dispersed by the wind.


    The Rat shrugged. ¡°These things rarely do,¡± he said jovially. ¡°But there¡¯s a bright side to all this, I promise.¡±


    I pushed past thinking of a dozen countermeasures and the dreaded possibility of vanishing into the Clarwood Forest again. ¡°I am struggling to see anything good about this.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll bite once we show you what we know,¡± he said. ¡°Here¡¯s a nugget of info for free: the woman you want is named Kaelan Joan, sister of Lawrent Joan, the patriarch of the family. She¡¯s a conniving witch who rarely leaves the protection of their territory. We can get you close and give you an opportunity to fulfill that mission of yours.¡±


    The stick, then the carrot. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± I asked. If there was one thing that was a constant between worlds, it was that everything was done for a reason. What did the Rats have to gain from me fulfilling my revenge?


    ¡°Have you ever considered switching out that mask?¡± The Rat asked instead. He ran a hand over his own mask.


    Ah, a recruitment offer. I furrowed my brow. I had somewhat expected this. I mulled over my next words carefully. ¡°First of all, why me?¡± I said, genuinely wanting to know the answer. I thought I had gathered a vague impression of this group, but I didn¡¯t see where I might fit in. ¡°What do I have to offer that you want?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re fast and quiet,¡± The Rat said. ¡°What better talents for a wealth redistributor? And besides, you¡¯re not the only one who has a grudge against the Joans. Our merry little band has only failed a heist once, and we aim to fix that. Plus, you¡¯d be surprised how few mages apply for membership here.¡±


    I could sense the truth in his words, but there was more to it than that. Something gnawed at me about that.


    It was ironic. I had arrived here hours in advance to scout for traps, but I didn¡¯t even realize I was already penned in before answering the call. If I declined the offer to join this crew, I was left to my own devices to fend off the advances of Blood Joan and the other houses. I wasn¡¯t sure it was even true, but would he lie to me with something so easy to verify? If the man was telling the truth, I would be left to shelter myself again, back to square one.


    But if I joined these ¡®wealth redistributors,¡¯ I would have the protection of an experienced group. They had some sort of information network, considering the information the Young Rat gave me. I wouldn¡¯t be flailing blindly in the dark. My actions would have more direction and a stable foundation of planning. Furthermore, I wouldn¡¯t be alone.


    The last point burned in my mind the most, despite its relative insignificance. I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but I was terribly lonely in this new world. My unique circumstances made me one of three reincarnates on this entire planet, and I doubted Nico and Arthur would be able to relate to me over the intricacies of my previous life. I was a unique kind of isolated, and it burned me with every day I spent alone.


    I craved human interaction. But I wasn¡¯t willing to break my principles for this.


    ¡°I won¡¯t help you steal from people who can¡¯t support themselves,¡± I said, remembering the rundown nature of these slums. ¡°If you steal from common people, I¡¯m out.¡±


    The Rat shook his head. ¡°We aren¡¯t savages, Toren. Our targets are all people who won¡¯t miss the coins we take. A mark here, a crest there, and they can¡¯t even spot the difference amidst their stores of wealth.¡±


    So they stole from the rich alone? My one meeting with the Young Rat seemed to confirm this, as they were caught leaving the Joans¡¯ estate. I mulled it over a bit more, considering my options.


    ¡°If I agree to this,¡± I said slowly, clasping my hands together as my elbows rested on my knees, ¡°I want a guarantee of information that I can use, as well as the right to leave after the job with the Joans is done.¡±


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    I couldn¡¯t let myself be locked in with these people, either. Once I was finished with my revenge, I would need to turn my attention to Scythe Nico. I couldn¡¯t be chained to one place.


    The Rat looked me over. ¡°We¡¯ll have to work out the finer details a bit later,¡± he said. ¡°In the meantime, welcome to the Company of the Rat,¡± he said with another flourish. He withdrew a mask from his dimension rune, tossing it across the room. I caught it, inspecting the artifact. I could sense slight waves of mana from it. ¡°I¡¯m certain you¡¯ll have a blast.¡±


    ¡ª


    It turned out that the mask was enchanted in some way. It would stick to my face without the need for straps, according to the Rat.


    I sat in the same pew, turning the mask over in my hands. It was stark gray, with an exaggerated snout and painted whiskers. It barely covered more skin than a domino mask, but these people had a theme.


    The Rat had left a few minutes ago, claiming to need to get a few things in order before taking me to their hideout. The Young Rat and the axe wielder stayed behind, awkwardly looking anywhere but toward me.


    My view darkened as the Unseen World overtook my vision. Lady Dawn stood in the center of the aisle, her gaze intent on the basilisk mosaic at the end of the room. She was invisible to everyone but me.


    ¡°You are impulsive, Contractor,¡± she said at last. I spared her a side-eyed glance. The words were harsh, but rarely did Lady Dawn offer criticism emptily. I learned that in my training very quickly.


    ¡°How so?¡± I asked quietly, genuinely wondering how. I wouldn¡¯t call myself impulsive, but I also wasn¡¯t sure how much of me was still me after my merge with Toren. I used to have a good idea of who I was.


    ¡°In agreeing to join these thieves,¡± she said. ¡°You know nothing about them, while they know much of you. You do not know if they can be trusted, or if their words are genuine. You agreed on the spur of the moment, without giving the offer time for consideration.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°You do not know if they are even thieves.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said, looking over the runes on the inner side of the mask. ¡°But it didn¡¯t take much for me to realize I didn¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯ve been running around blind, striking at shadows, hoping each would pull me closer to my vengeance. But only now have I learned that horrid woman¡¯s name.¡± The Rat mask wouldn¡¯t hide my eyes very well. My current mask cast my face in a shadow, shielding that part of me from observation. ¡°The fact that I know so little proves my need to learn more. I need to take some risks here.¡±


    Truth be told, I had been very impulsive. Thinking it over, I suspected it was something I¡¯d gotten from Toren. First I tried to bargain with Lady Dawn. Then I rushed headlong into a dangerous forest with barely more than the clothes on my back. After that, I tried to spy on a noble family with no espionage experience. And finally, I attempted to interfere in that expedition. All were textbook impulsive.


    But I finally had an opportunity for some concrete direction. I knew that Kaelan Joan was the woman who killed my brother. I had suspected it from reading the book on Blood Joan, but this was surefire confirmation. It lined up. I finally made progress.


    Lady Dawn turned away from the mosaic, staring at me with her burning coals. I didn¡¯t sense judgment from those eyes, at least not in the conventional sense. ¡°Perhaps this rogue did tell you the truth. But the Rat could be running to alert your enemies himself as we speak, guiding them here to you. You would be trapped like a rat in a pen, dependent on their mercy.¡±


    I considered that for a moment. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think he is,¡± I said with surprising surety. If there was something I trusted about myself, it was my ability to read people. And while the Rat held an irritating level of confidence, he didn¡¯t strike me as two-faced. That was quite ironic, considering he was a thief who hid behind a mask. But I trusted my instincts around people. ¡°He has reasons for recruiting me beyond my skills,¡± I said, thinking back to our conversation. ¡°But in the end, it doesn¡¯t matter. The Rat was right. I need information and I need backing. I can¡¯t go this alone.¡±


    I was surprised to feel Lady Dawn¡¯s hand brush my shoulder. It was gone in an instant, but I turned to the side. She was staring into the piercing scarlet eyes of the Vritra mosaic once again. ¡°You are not alone in this, Contractor.¡±


    My next words caught in my throat, but my train of thought was interrupted by the Young Rat striding over. The Unseen vanished, taking Lady Dawn with it.


    ¡°So, it sounds like you managed to be a complication for the Joans after all,¡± she said conversationally. She looked at the pew but wisely decided to keep standing. I wasn¡¯t sure it could hold both of our weights.


    I took a deep breath, pushing down my reservations. I stood up, stretching to work out the aches in my back. ¡°I think I ended up looking a lot more like a complication than I actually was,¡± I said with mirthful amusement.


    I ignored the images of men dying under my watch that pulsed under the surface. The truth was that more would¡¯ve died if I hadn¡¯t helped at all, and I needed to grind that into my skull. I¡¯d believe it eventually if I kept repeating that.


    ¡°Oh?¡± the Young Rat said, amused. ¡°It sounds like they¡¯re blaming you for the failure of the entire thing, from what we¡¯ve heard. Some little shield scampered back, claiming that right after you popped up, they got swamped by hundreds of hornets. Apparently, you drew another nest to the expedition.¡±


    I blinked. Meera? That bitch! ¡°I am going to dump that woman back into the Clarwood Forest,¡± I decided. Yeah, that¡¯d be a fitting punishment. ¡°See how she likes fighting her way out.¡±


    The Young Rat side-eyed me. ¡°Have you ever actually stolen anything before?¡± she asked lightly.


    I remembered one time when I was a child, stealing a candy bar from a grocery store. My parents had marched me right back to apologize to the minimum wage employee at the customer service desk.


    I suddenly felt a lot more unsure about being a thief, especially because I never considered actually taking things from people.


    Yeah, maybe a bit impulsive, I agreed with Lady Dawn.


    ¡°Well, I once stole a bit of food before I got my magic,¡± I said honestly. I frowned. ¡°Got caught, though.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised,¡± the Young Rat said. I think I would¡¯ve felt good when somebody told me I didn¡¯t look like I¡¯d make a good thief, but somehow this young woman said it like it was a character flaw. Should I be insulted or flattered? ¡°You don¡¯t have the hands for it.¡±


    ¡°Hands how?¡± I asked, confused. My hands were covered.


    ¡°They don¡¯t twitch whenever you see something expensive!¡± she said, as if that explained everything. ¡°All those goons you clocked back in North Fiachra, and not once did you look at their jewels!¡±


    Then she did something that honestly surprised me. She took off her mask. The woman had an attractive face, with inquisitive eyes and thin features. ¡°I¡¯m called Naereni outside work,¡± she said, offering me a hand to shake. ¡°It looks like you¡¯ve been recruited.¡±


    I looked at the offered hand. The fact that the Young Rat¨CNaereni¨Chad revealed her face to me cemented my guess that the Rat wasn¡¯t rushing off to turn me in. But then I also noticed an ever-so-subtle twitch of her hand, her eyes laying intently on my dimension ring.


    I was not going to shake with the hand that was wearing my ring.


    I took off my own mask, unfastening the clasps that wrapped around my head. I pulled it into my dimension rune, then offered my non-ring hand. ¡°Toren,¡± I said. ¡°Though you already knew that.¡±


    Naereni seemed to pout when I offered the wrong hand, forcing her to change which hand she proffered before we shook. ¡°You learn fast, at least,¡± she said sullenly.


    The axe wielder finally approached, his build noticeably bigger than either I or Naereni¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m sorry on the Rat¡¯s behalf,¡± the man said. I shook his hand as well, unsurprised by his sturdy grip. This man¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t wander to the jewelry I wore. ¡°He can be¡­ grating at times. But don¡¯t let him hear you say that. I¡¯m called Hofal, by the way.¡±


    Under the mask, Hofal had thinning dark hair and rugged sideburns down the side of his face that weren¡¯t so easy to see with a cloak obscuring them. He lit another cigar as he continued. ¡°If you want to get back at the man, call him Karsien when he returns.¡± He puffed the smoke to the side. ¡°He enjoys these skits too much. The rafters of this building are too old for him to be jumping around them. Any more, and he could¡¯ve actually damaged the structure. Good architecture, this.¡±


    I raised a brow, a lot of my tension easing at last. ¡°Does he do this often?¡± I said, gesturing to the altar. It was an obvious bit of showmanship in retrospect, one that didn¡¯t fail to impress. ¡°I think that Basilisk was judging him worse than I ever could,¡± I said with amusement, referencing the towering mosaic behind the altar. It felt so good to talk to people again.


    ¡°I personally think the Sovereigns encourage him,¡± Naereni said, crossing her arms. ¡°I don¡¯t know how else he could pull off the stunts he does without some sort of divine assistance.¡±


    ¡°Stunts?¡± a voice said from directly behind Naereni. I jumped with a curse, getting ready to draw my dagger once more. Hofal groaned, but Naereni squeaked, whirling on her foot to face who had spoken.


    The Rat stood there, shaking his head. He was still wrapped in mist. ¡°I¡¯m wounded, my dear protege. I think you¡¯re giving me a bad reputation with the new recruit.¡±


    I frowned, irritated that he had snuck up on me. Again. ¡°I think the Rat is a lot more accurate than Karsien,¡± I said, voicing my thoughts. ¡°It fits you better.¡±


    Hofal puffed out a ring of smoke. ¡°He¡¯s got a point, Kar.¡±


    The Rat¨CKarsien¨Crolled his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll never appreciate my genius.¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°No matter! Well, we¡¯re going to our little Rat¡¯s Den, and it would be in your best interest to join us, my friend,¡± he said, gesturing to me. The man hadn¡¯t unmasked yet.


    A bit of unease pressed from my gut. ¡°And why is that?¡±


    ¡°Because you managed to be spotted on the way over here, that¡¯s why. And it would be poor form to lose a new hire so soon after the interview.¡° S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I was beginning to realize that this man would drive me insane.

 Chapter 27: Base of Operations

    Toren Daen


    I watched a few mages covertly observing the buildings near the old temple from my hiding space. They were certainly on the lookout for somebody, and considering their location, it was easy to guess who.


    ¡°How did they follow me?¡± I said with a whisper, peering through the small gap in the bricks. I was in the entrance to some sort of secret tunnel, guided by the Rats once I was alerted to my conundrum. The mages were keeping an eye on the location I was at before entering the old temple for my meeting. ¡°Scratch that, how did I not notice them?¡±


    Even if I couldn¡¯t tell when the Rat was a foot behind me, I was still proud of the senses I had honed in the Clarwood Forest. That these people supposedly trailed me for so long was a blow to that pride.


    I was behind a brick wall that moved after Naereni had stepped on some sort of pressure plate, allowing it to swing inward and allow us through. A small summoned will-o¡¯-wisp hovered around my head, providing a bit of light for me in the darkness. Karsien leaned against a nearby wall, flanked by Hofal and Naereni. ¡°The Bloods have informants all over the city,¡± he said. ¡°Considering it took them nearly an hour to track you here is a testament to how weak those nets are in East Fiachra. And they weren¡¯t trailing you directly, merely following clues left behind. I wonder how much luck you have left after this?¡±


    He pushed off the wall, moving down the passage. At the end was a circular trap door that opened with a simple kick. ¡°Extinguish that fire for me, will you?¡±


    I looked at my little speck of fire. ¡°Is there light down there?¡± I asked, peeking over the edge of the trapdoor. The entrance rank like something hellish. ¡°Damn,¡± I said, backing away. ¡°What¡¯s that smell?¡± It was like a mix of rotten eggs, feces, and a dozen other things I would rather not guess at.


    Naereni snickered at my gagging, then dropped down the chute without a second thought. I thought I caught a note of pity in Hofal¡¯s face as he followed after. ¡°That¡¯s Fiachra¡¯s sewer system. Fun fact about sewage, Toren Daen: Sewer gas is mostly composed of methane.¡±


    I looked over at my little ball of light. ¡°Noted,¡± I said, extinguishing the fire. I didn¡¯t need a gas explosion down there.


    ¡°You coming?¡± Karsien asked. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, resignation in my bones. I had tried so hard to keep myself clean.


    I dropped down into the sewers.


    ¡ª


    The stench could be weathered. I could block it out eventually after getting used to it, and my sense of smell was pretty weak anyways. The rotten eggs and feces could slowly drift to the back of my perception.


    The sensation of wading through the muck, however, would stick with me till the day I died. It was viscous and sloppy, resisting my movement with each step. The flow of sewage barely came up past my ankles, but the mudlike consistency gripped my boots with malicious greed.


    ¡°Never swam in filth, Toren?¡± Naereni asked from ahead. She was enjoying this far too much.


    I opened my mouth to respond, then gagged on the taste. Oh god, I was going to brush my teeth for an hour after this.


    The Young Rat cackled, while Karsien snorted. Hofal patted me on my back goodnaturedly. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it eventually,¡± he said. ¡°I like to think about the history of this place. Did you know that these tunnels were first constructed over two hundred years ago? They haven¡¯t had regular maintenance in nearly a century, but they still function without much oversight. A wonder of architecture.¡±


    I had a hard time appreciating the big shield¡¯s words. Did I want to get used to this? I felt something push around my feet. I shuddered in place. ¡°I think something just brushed past my leg,¡± I said. No, I was not whining.


    ¡°Probably a musk crab,¡± Naereni said, noting my nerves. The entire group trudged on with surety, taking branching paths and turns with confidence. They clearly knew where they were going. ¡°They¡¯re these tiny little crustacean mana beasts that feed on the sewer gas and leave behind cleaner air. Pretty harmless.¡±


    Christ, things lived in this muck? I thought back to my escapades in the Clarwood Forest and the waves of quivering chitin that had surrounded the expedition. Anything with more than four legs, I decided for the second time, did not deserve to live. Even if they contributed to zero greenhouse gasses. Naereni snickered again as I shuddered.


    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one to hate the sewers,¡± Hofal said, peeking around a corner. ¡°Naereni tormented one of our other members a while back, too. He eventually adapted. Now she needs another person to mess with.¡±


    ¡°Other member?¡± I said, fighting past the urge to gag at the taste. ¡°I thought you three were all there were,¡± I finished.


    ¡°We have a couple more members of our band,¡± Karsien said. ¡°We all have our roles here. What you see here are our combat forces.¡±


    I followed the Rats as they made another turn. ¡°You¡¯re awfully honest about your operations with me,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re trusting me with this information.¡±


    Karsien peeked over his shoulder. ¡°Who says I¡¯m being honest with you, Toren? In fact, I could be leading you into a dastardly trap, set to sell you off the Joans themselves!¡±


    Seeing how I wasn¡¯t reacting to that non-explanation, Hofal interrupted. ¡°Well, the truth is, Toren, that we know a lot more about you than you think. Considering what we know about you and who told us, it''s enough to warrant a measure of trust.¡±


    Slightly disconcerted by Hofal¡¯s frankness, I was about to ask what he knew when the group paused. The leader of the Rats tapped in several places in the dark walls of the tunnel. The bricks folded away as if by magic, allowing a stream of light to stream out of the opening.


    ¡°And we¡¯re home!¡± he said, walking into the light.


    I followed, but a hand held me back. I blinked, adjusting to the glare. Hofal held up some sort of artifact, offering it to me. I took it, confused as to its purpose.


    ¡°It blows very, very cold air,¡± he said. ¡°Use it on your boots. It helps get rid of the gunk on your feet from traipsing around the sewers. You don¡¯t want to track that all over your new home. The tiles aren¡¯t treated to withstand the residue, and they¡¯ll corrode.¡±


    I nodded thankfully, using the artifact on my boots. I supplied it with a steady flow of mana, the little device lighting up as it activated. It looked like a blow-drier, but the air that pushed out of it was far below freezing. As the cold iced over my shoes, the sludge that was coating my boots shriveled and froze, then cracked and chipped off the leather.


    Not even a stain was left behind. Hofal took the artifact back from my thankful hands, using it on his own feet.


    I surveyed where the Rats had led me. It was a wide space, but the similar architecture to the outside sewers told me it wasn¡¯t carved separately. Lighting artifacts hung on the side of thick stone support pillars, giving the place a low light that allowed me to see with ease. The floor was surprisingly free of water, except for small patches near the entrance. At the center of the room, a tall opening let in bits of natural light, the rays creating a warmer feel than I¡¯d expected.


    I noticed a few interesting sights almost immediately. A few wood training dummies on one end of the room hinted at a training area, while a large map of Fiachra against one wall with a large table and several chairs might¡¯ve been a meeting ground.


    ¡°Welcome to our glorious abode,¡± Karsien said, sweeping his arm to display the room. ¡°Here we plan the downfall of the wealthy and consort with demons, though not necessarily in that order.¡±


    I took off my metal mask, storing it in my dimension ring at last. My hair was slick with sweat from the humid sewers, but this little hideout was a bit chilly. ¡°It¡¯s nicer than I expected,¡± I said. ¡°Considering I waded through a mile of sewage to get here.¡±


    Karsien shrugged. ¡°For now, make yourself comfortable. Explore, find your rooms, steal a coin or two. This is the safest place for you until the manhunts calm down. We call it the Cistern, as that¡¯s what it used to be before we requisitioned it for more noble purposes.¡± The leader of the Rats nodded toward his protege. ¡°Mind settling him in?¡± he asked.


    Naereni nodded. ¡°Got it, Kar.¡± She waved at me to follow her, then broke off toward an archway that lead out of sight. With a moment of hesitation, I followed after her. She led me into an adjacent chamber. Several doors were fitted along the wall, and these looked decidedly out of place compared to the rest of the architecture.


    Naereni opened one, allowing me a peek inside. There was a simple pallet bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers. There was a light fixture on the wall that illuminated the room. It had a homier feel than I would¡¯ve thought from an underground hideout.


    The Young Rat pointed at the bed. ¡°That one¡¯s yours. Few rules around here: first, don¡¯t be a dick,¡± she said bluntly. ¡°Treat others with respect, don¡¯t steal from each other if you¡¯ll get caught doing so, and don¡¯t bring anyone unapproved into the Cistern. Also, if Hofal tries to tell you the history of the stonework here, ignore him.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°I thought there was no honor among thieves,¡± I said, taking off my cloak. Instead of setting it on my new end table, I willed it into my dimension ring.


    Naereni rolled her eyes. ¡°Considering we only steal from well-to-do bastards like those Joans you hate so much, I¡¯d say we¡¯re more principled than half the people in this city.¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    I hummed, then lay down on the bed. It was certainly nicer than the rooftop I¡¯d lived on for the past few days.


    ¡°The privy¡¯s that way, along with the shower and bath. There¡¯s only one shower, and I get dibs first thing in the morning,¡± she said, gesturing toward another entryway.


    ¡°That another rule?¡±


    ¡°It comes before all the others,¡± Naereni said. ¡°I¡¯m second in command here, so I can make that a rule.¡±


    After a few more instructions on what I could do¨Capparently, I should be careful taking out the brick of the wall to make secret compartments, as the structure was old and might not take that well¨CNaereni left to do other things. I was left alone on my new bed, contemplating this changing situation.


    On a whim, I retrieved my notebook from my dimension ring. The journal was one of the few items I owned that had the sigil of Named Blood Daen stamped on it, but the information it held contained information more dangerous than anything I owned.


    I hadn¡¯t managed to write an entry in the past few days since tracking the expedition, so I took the chance to do so now. My pen wrote in what would be a gibberish mishmash of letters and symbols to unsuspecting eyes.


    In fact, it was a cipher designed to ward away prying eyes. This journal held all the information I could remember of The Beginning After the End, and it was time to add another entry.


    Company of the Rat: Small-time thieving gang acting against Bloods centered in Fiachra. At least five members. Motivated by greed, preservation, or something else? Offered me help and information. Implied to have significant knowledge of Toren. Trustworthy?


    After a moment, I underlined ¡®trustworthy.¡¯ It would be important to learn what drove this group. Karsien stated I could leave when my vengeance was done, but that was only verbal assurance. I was locked into this path right now, but gathering information was key.


    I continued to jot down miscellaneous observations and key details of the past couple of days.


    ¡°And who might that be for?¡± A voice said from beside me.


    My fist whipped out before I was even aware, a shroud of vibrating sound wrapping my strike.


    It missed the target. Karsien leisurely sidestepped my strike, his coat of mist rippling slightly as my attack slid past.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± I said, exhaling a breath. I snapped my notebook shut, glaring at the man. ¡°Could you just not?¡± I asked, exasperation clear in my voice.


    Karsien hadn¡¯t taken off his mask, but his bandana was lowered. I now knew he was smirking at me.


    ¡°Detailing our devious operations already, Toren? I didn¡¯t take you for a spy,¡± he said, eying my notebook.


    I clutched it tighter unconsciously. A flicker of worry that he could understand the words on my pages surfaced in my mind, but a quick thought quelled that. The code I used to scramble text was significant and complicated. It wouldn¡¯t be easy to decipher my writing, especially not from a glance. His guess was accurate not because he could read what I wrote, but because it was logical.


    I banished the notebook to my dimension ring. ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate being spied on, Karsien,¡± I said. Then after a beat, ¡°You¡¯ve been trusting of me, but I still don¡¯t know you or your motives. I reserve a right to some privacy.¡±


    Karsien tilted his head. ¡°Is it spying if I simply wait in plain sight?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well. I was going to offer a way to alleviate those concerns of yours, though.¡± He nodded toward the main area of the Cistern. ¡°Come on, Toren.¡±


    I sighed, then pulled myself off the bed. Karsien led me to the small area with wooden practice dummies.


    On closer inspection, I could see a clearly delineated area between the support beams, about fifty feet in diameter. Naereni was stretching in the middle, going through some clear combat warmups.


    I stepped in, surveying the area. The floor here was smoother than the bricks elsewhere in the Cistern.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll be my sparring partner, then?¡± Naereni asked, pulling on her foot to stretch out her leg.


    I looked to Karsien, who stood on the edge. ¡°It seems that way,¡± I said. ¡°Though I don¡¯t understand why.¡±


    Karsien filled me in, thankfully. ¡°You¡¯ll be helping us liberate trapped assets soon, Toren, but we don¡¯t know how you fight. Getting a feel for your style would do wonders in forming teamwork.¡±


    I frowned, but stepped into the ring. ¡°Was how I fight not one of the many things you supposedly know about me?¡± I said.


    Karsien shrugged. ¡°Practical experience always trumps second-hand knowledge.¡± So they probably didn¡¯t know everything I could do. Good to know. ¡°Anyway, standard point sparring rules. No maiming, no fatal spells, stay inside the ring, and try to have fun!¡±


    I blinked, wanting to ask some questions, but never got the chance.


    Naereni rushed me the moment Karsien finished his sentence. She lashed out with a speedy left hook. I ducked the strike hastily, but a knee coated in ice nearly clipped my chin. I used a push of telekinesis to help myself dodge, the flare of white mingling with the frosty blue of my opponent¡¯s knee.


    ¡°How come you get to stretch?!¡± I snapped. Naereni simply grinned in response.


    I unsheathed my dagger deftly, using it to deflect a few thin slivers of ice Naereni had thrown in my retreat. I retaliated by conjuring a dozen small fireballs in the air, then willing them to hurtle toward the thief-by-trade. They whistled toward my foe, casting odd shadows as they moved.


    Naereni dodged a few, which impacted the floor with a small scorch mark. ¡°Too slow, Toren!¡± she called in a singsong voice. ¡°Maybe if you trained for another hundred years, you¡¯d hit the mark!¡±


    My fireballs were intentionally weakened, but would still singe if they hit. The young mage conjured a small buckler of solid ice over her forearm, using the wide surface area to deflect the fireballs she couldn¡¯t dodge.


    I rushed forward, telekinetic pushes helping me close the distance far faster than otherwise. Naereni spotted me coming, her eyes widening in shock. She threw a handful of icy caltrops into my path, causing me to stumble to avoid spearing my feet. With my advance disrupted, Naereni conjured a particularly long staff of ice. She used it to vault over the spikey ice constructs, aiming an ice-covered roundhouse kick at me as she flew. She used the anchor it provided to add extra leverage to her attack.


    ¡°You¡¯re open!¡± she cried, spinning with force.


    The leg flashed in my peripheral vision, a promise of at least a minor concussion if it landed.


    A dozen different options zipped through my mind, but I settled on one rapidly. I was still off balance from halting my advance so quickly, but I could still use my telekinesis rune. I strengthened my left arm with as much mana as I could in the last split second, raising it beside my head to block. A flickering of fire coated the limb, hopefully able to offset the force of the ice.


    I whipped my right arm, still holding my dagger, out to the side as quickly as possible. I pushed hard against the ground with my telekinesis, but measured the output to be a more constant push rather than launching me.


    Naereni¡¯s shin rocked against my fire-coated forearm, sending a shudder through my entire body. It felt like I had been hit by a metal bat instead of a leg. The push I used against the ground helped bolster me against the opposing force, allowing me to stand against the blow despite my rickety balance. The ice around Naereni¡¯s shin shattered, blowing out the fire around my arm in the process. The mana shroud around my limb almost crumpled from the force.


    I stood my ground. Naereni¡¯s attack hadn¡¯t accounted for such a sturdy block. She was left off-balance, tipping backward in the air. I wasn¡¯t going to let her regain her footing. Using another telekinetic push, I added a decent bit of force to a fist-sized area around her stomach. My spell glimmered white, then impacted the young rogue¡¯s unprotected gut.


    Her eyes widened as she wheezed. She toppled onto her back with a groan, the pole of ice she used forgotten.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you get for trying to knock my head off,¡± I said with relish. I shook my arm, trying to work feeling back into it. Damn, that¡¯s going to bruise badly.


    I sheathed my dagger, then offered the young woman a hand. My right one this time, since my left arm didn¡¯t agree with her prior treatment of it. Naereni took my hand, allowing me to help her to her feet. She was still trying to catch her breath.


    Karsien clapped from the sidelines. ¡°Good show, Toren. Smart use of your power¡¯s versatility,¡± he said. ¡°Naereni, you need to work on not overcommitting on your attacks. You were left too open after Toren blocked your attack.¡±


    I winced. Naereni managed to nail me in the arm exactly where the skaunter had taken a rip out on my first day in this world. It had healed over with only a slight scar, but I needed to stop putting my body through such rigorous treatment.


    Naereni looked disgruntled at the criticism, but she nodded along as Karsien told her a few points where she could¡¯ve done better. ¡°Your last attack had far too much force behind it, too. Not good for a spar.¡±


    Then the man turned to me. I felt a bit nervous, as my only combat teacher had been Lady Dawn. She had given me many pointers on combat form and how to handle myself, but she couldn¡¯t actually spar with me to help me hone my instincts and skills. This was new.


    ¡°You¡¯re good, Toren. Better than I expected, but there are some glaring flaws with how you approached this match.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± I asked. I thought I had performed well in my first magic spar. ¡°I played by your rules; even won the match.¡±


    Naereni pouted from the side.


    ¡°The most important thing you need to fix? You overcommitted.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I didn¡¯t make any attack I couldn¡¯t conceivably recover from,¡± I said, thinking of how Naereni had been left wide open after her kick. I hadn¡¯t done anything like that. ¡°I don¡¯t see your point.¡±


    ¡°I never said you overcommitted to an attack,¡± Karsien replied. ¡°You took a very dangerous risk at the very end. When my protege threw that kick, you were not in a place to dodge it gracefully or block easily.¡±


    ¡°But considering my footing, I would¡¯ve been grounded after that dodge,¡± I said, confused. ¡°Naereni would¡¯ve held the victory if I lost that position. Recovery would¡¯ve been very difficult. And plus, I did block that attack.¡±


    To my credit, Naereni seemed bewildered by this avenue of criticism as well.


    ¡°You barely blocked it, Toren.¡± Karsien said, looking at me. ¡°This was a spar. Naereni shouldn¡¯t have tried to strike you with such force, but neither should you have attempted to take it head-on. The point of these exercises isn¡¯t just to win, it¡¯s to improve.¡± He looked at me seriously. ¡°And you can¡¯t do that if you get your brains knocked around by a kick.¡±


    ¡°So I should¡¯ve gone to the ground?¡± I asked. ¡°Forfeited the match?¡±


    Karsien crossed his arms. ¡°Yes. I can tell from your movements: you¡¯re used to fighting for real, without the safety measures a spar allows. Your instincts tell you that the only thing you can do is block. If you go to the ground, you¡¯re dead. So you¡¯re more willing to break a bone than to forfeit a spar. When I say you overcommitted, I meant you were overcommitted to the fight itself.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, thinking over what Karsien had told me. He did have a point, at least to a degree. All of my fights so far had been in the Clarwood Forest, where a moment of weakness meant death. I couldn¡¯t let my back hit the ground, or the next attack would be at my throat.


    I didn¡¯t realize how engrained that had become.


    ¡°Point taken,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re right about the last part, though. I¡¯m not used to this.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the benefit of sparring,¡± Naereni replied. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry for almost kicking your head off,¡± she added sheepishly. ¡°It just looked very very appealing to do so.¡±


    Was that actually an apology? Or was she just saying my face looked very punchable?


    ¡°There¡¯s more you need to work on,¡± Karsien said, causing me to focus on him. ¡°But you¡¯ll need a demonstration to understand.¡±


    The Rat stepped into the ring.

 Chapter 28: Librarians

    Toren Daen


    Karsien settled into a stance, beckoning me forward. His confidence made me wary, but I pressed on anyway.


    With mana-enhanced speed, I lashed a fist out toward him in a jab. Karsien slipped the punch with supernatural agility, but I had expected that. He crouched slightly, a hand raised to ward off my attack. Capitalizing on this opening, a flare of white began to shiver into existence near the striker¡¯s abdomen, poised to deliver a similar gut blow as I had given to Naereni. He wouldn¡¯t be able to block it with his arm, as that was busy turning my punch away.


    I was ready to follow up after the eventual blow. After my telekinesis impacted him, I¡¯d follow up with a kick to the abdomen again. Karsien didn¡¯t have a mana shroud that I could see, meaning my attack would hit flesh. A dozen other possibilities flashed in my mind as a second passed by.


    Instead of that happening, however, Karsien¡¯s knee began to churn with water. He raised it high, smacking through my still-forming telekinetic push before it could fully coalesce. The mana shattered into a thousand shards, shocking me and causing me to pull back. The only other time my telekinesis had been shattered was by¡­


    The Rat tilted his head, a mocking smirk on his face. ¡°Well, Toren? I¡¯m waiting for you to actually attack me,¡± he said.


    Unnerved, I instead conjured a few small fireballs around me. They arced toward the waiting Karsien, who burst into a puff of mist as my attack hit.


    Water vapor spread around the small arena, twisting and curling over the smooth stone. I shifted in place, wary of what was next. My senses were dampened in the midst of the mist, similar to what happened when the Unseen World eclipsed my senses.


    I¡¯ll have to get rid of the mists, then, I thought.


    Deciding to take matters into my own hand, I focused for several precious seconds, then pushed outward with an unfocused wave of flame. It sizzled where it contacted the mist, dispersing it wherever the two intertwined.


    I suddenly became aware of an attack hurtling toward me, whatever the mist had done to disturb my senses abruptly lifted. I spun, a coating of flame over my forearm as I swung my hand through whatever neared me.


    My hand seared straight through Karsien, neatly cutting through his torso. I felt a momentary panic before I registered the lack of sensation. Where my hand cut through, a curtain of mist billowed out.


    A clone?! There was no resistance as my attack whiffed through, only light dampness on my skin and a cool, tingling sensation where the mist touched my skin.The illusory clone of Karsien exploded in water vapor after it was bisected, the same sense-dampening effect multiplied tenfold when it coated me so close.


    I pushed out with telekinesis, trying to move across the ground. I knew instinctively that another attack was coming, but my telekinetic push never connected with the ground. Instead, a boot coalesced out of the gloom and slammed into the white mana, breaking it once more.


    But that alerted me to the true body¡¯s position. Karsien could create clones of mist, but they had no physical presence. I threw a grenade of sound toward the location I had seen the boot but was surprised when the figure blurred.


    I detonated my sound grenade early, realizing I didn¡¯t have much time. Mist obscured much of my vision, and I didn¡¯t have the focus to release another wave of flame around me. That wasn¡¯t one of my template spells, after all.


    My grenade blew a neat gap into the mist, but it slowly sifted back in. But my attack had failed anyway. A bare outline of a man neatly pirouetted around the explosion, closing the distance with unnatural speed and grace. I backpedaled as best I could, trying to escape. I hurled a few fireballs his way, but my aim was off. The mist obscured my senses too much, and my opponent was a bare outline in the room.


    My back hit something hard. I felt stone against my shoulder blades, shocking me. I hadn¡¯t been able to sense my surroundings with my usual confidence, and I had backed into one of the support pillars for the Cistern.


    The mist dispersed abruptly, vanishing into the nonexistent wind. Karsien stood on the opposite edge of the ring, far away from where I had thought he was.


    I realized with a start that what I had been attacking all along in the mist must have been one of those godforsaken clones. The man had been far from me all along.


    I remembered how the boot had broken my telekinesis spell. Did that mean his clones could manifest physical force, or did the interaction of our spells merely cancel each other out? Or did the man dart in to break my spell and leave a clone in his place?


    I settled back into my stance, ready to continue the match. Karsien wagged his finger though. ¡°Na, ah, ah!¡± He said, pointing to the ground. I followed his gesture, realizing with disappointment I was outside of the delineated circle.


    I lost the spar by ring out.


    I sighed. ¡°You led me around like a fish on a hook,¡± I said, a bit irritated. Couldn¡¯t the man actually face me? Naereni lounged nearby, an expression of keen interest on her face.


    ¡°That I did, Toren. But do you understand why?¡±


    ¡°Your mist obscures your presence, and I couldn¡¯t distinguish your clones from your true self. You baited me to believe you were in one place when you were truly in another.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the how, not the why. Why did I avoid fighting you? Why are you outside the ring and not dealing with the concussion I could have given you instead?¡± he said, tapping a finger against his forehead.


    I thought for a moment. Why did the man avoid directly trading blows with me? ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, confused.


    ¡°We¡¯re thieves,¡± the man said at last. ¡°Our goal is to grab our target and leave. We don¡¯t want to stay and fight. Fighting means that disgruntled authorities have time to catch us, which would mean that the poor coins we liberate will never reach freedom. We want to lead people around on a merry chase.¡± He strode over to me. ¡°It¡¯s a performance as any other, Toren.¡±


    He walked past me, headed toward another room I hadn¡¯t explored yet. ¡°Also, when you use your telekinesis rune, your eyes track to where you plan to put the effect. It¡¯s easy to exploit.¡±


    I remembered how the man had broken through each and every one of my attempts to use telekinesis throughout the fight. Had I been that predictable? ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, running over the spar. I had much to learn.


    Naereni approached me after. ¡°You did well against our good old leader,¡± she said conversationally.


    ¡°He played me like a puppet on a string,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°And used it to make a point at the same time.¡±


    If he actually wanted to hurt me, I was pretty sure he could¡¯ve taken me out early with ease. I could barely sense the man within the mists. Karsien held full control of the battlefield, not unlike how he controlled our first meeting.


    ¡°Usually he just thrashes us early on,¡± Naereni said. ¡°But considering most of us only have a few runes, there isn¡¯t much to draw out.¡± She looked at me appraisingly. ¡°How many runes do you actually have? I noticed at least five different spells there.¡±


    My shoulders tensed. I only had one rune, but it wasn¡¯t like I could say that. ¡°I¡¯d rather not say,¡± I said instead.


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    Naereni shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s good to keep that secret anyway,¡± she said. ¡°A surprising number of mages openly display their runes, but we of the Rats don¡¯t. That would make it too easy to identify us, maybe even more so than showing our faces. But you certainly have more than most of us, save maybe Karsien himself.¡± She smiled. ¡°Showing runes is stupid anyways. It''s like showing off your wealth: it makes you an easy target.¡±


    The moment was interrupted by a young man entering from where Karsien had exited. He plodded forward, seemingly unaware of the two of us. He looked familiar, but I couldn¡¯t place from where. His clothes were slightly disheveled but were more casual attire than anybody else here.


    Naereni immediately brightened. ¡°Wade!¡± she called, waving a hand. ¡°Come here! You¡¯ve gotta meet our new member!¡± S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wade? I thought, the name clicking into place. Sure enough, the man who meandered toward us was the scruffy-haired library receptionist I met a few days ago.


    ¡°Wade?¡± I said, utterly shocked. ¡°From the library?¡±


    He raised a brow. ¡°I told you my night job took up a lot of my time,¡± the young man said, adjusting his glasses. ¡°I just didn¡¯t tell you what it was. Good to see you again, Toren.¡±


    I blinked, then pieces began to click into place all over. ¡°That¡¯s how you knew who I was,¡± I said, pointing at the man. ¡°I went to the library to look up information on acidbeam hornets the day after you,¡± I said, pointing at Naereni, ¡°Gave me info that Blood Joan would attack their nest! It must¡¯ve been blatantly obvious,¡± I realized, internally berating myself for leaving such a simple trail.


    The bookworm laughed lightly. ¡°And the day before, you were searching for knowledge of the local Bloods, all in your civilian identity. It didn¡¯t take long for us to put two and two together,¡± he said, sparing a glance at Naereni. ¡°And not much gets by my eyes, either,¡± he said with a knowing look.


    A rat bounded over the tiles toward us, hopped up Wade¡¯s leg, then climbed to his shoulder. It sat there, perfectly content, as if it wasn¡¯t a wild animal. Wade put his hands in his pockets, clearly savoring my confusion. ¡°While Karsien is the Rat, I¡¯d argue I embody the title more,¡± he said with a hint of pride. The critter on his shoulder chittered.


    ¡°Wade manages our information network,¡± Naereni said happily, clapping him on the shoulder. Wade¡¯s eyes darted to her hand, a note of something in his eyes. ¡°He¡¯s got rats all over the city reporting to him. You¡¯d be amazed what the people will talk about in the open.¡±


    Wade coughed into a fist, some of his earlier confidence wilting under the praise. ¡°I¡¯ve got a crest that allows me to communicate intent to rats. I send them out, and whenever they overhear something that they think I¡¯d find interesting, they report back. It¡¯s got a limited range, though.¡± The rat on his shoulder squeaked in¡­ agreement? What?


    ¡°Our resident rat-whisperer,¡± Naereni said, removing her hand from Wade¡¯s shoulder. The young man looked visibly disappointed. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be able to pull off half the heists we do without his help,¡± she said.


    Wade smiled lightly. ¡°I had Karsien¡¯s letter delivered to you earlier,¡± he said. ¡°Our leader called me in on my off-hours, though, so I¡¯m going to go get reparations for that tonight.¡±


    Something Wade said startled Naereni. ¡°Oh, yeah!¡± she said. ¡°I need to go. Karsien promised he¡¯d get me a new cloak earlier, and if I¡¯m not quick he¡¯ll weasel out of it,¡± she finished, turning to go. ¡°See the both of you later!¡± she called back, moving toward where Wade had entered. The young sentry watched her go.


    I gave Wade a knowing look. He frowned in confusion.


    ¡°So, you and Naereni?¡± I said, feigning nonchalance. The way he looked at her seemed painfully apparent to me.


    Wade sighed. ¡°Shut it, Toren,¡± he said, though there was something wistful in his tone.


    ¡°You never told me what kind of books you read when we talked at the library,¡± I continued on, undeterred. I looked at Wade, then widened my eyes comically. ¡°Is it poetry? If you want to woo a lady, that would be the best way. Professing your love in prose would be awfully romantic, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    The rat on Wade¡¯s shoulder jumped at me, sailing through the air and latching onto my face. It dropped a second later, landing easily and scurrying off into the darkness with a chitter. Unfortunately, the undignified yelp I emitted as it hit me offset my banter.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to find rat droppings in your pillow,¡± Wade said, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. ¡°I promise you that.¡±


    Recovering from the rodent¡¯s assault, I snickered in good humor. ¡°That¡¯s not a no,¡± I said, tugging the lion¡¯s tail. I reconsidered my next words though, because I didn¡¯t know what else I¡¯d find in my pillowcase if I kept on. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have expected you to work for these ¡®wealth redistributors,¡¯¡± I said, my amusement at the continued phrase surfacing in my tone. ¡°You seemed more like a quiet type when I met you at the library. This ¡®night job¡¯ has got to be action-packed, though.¡±


    Wade gestured for me to follow him, and I set trailed by his side as he moved toward one part of the Cistern. ¡°We¡¯re thieves, plain and simple,¡± Wade said. ¡°The others like to dress it up, but that¡¯s what they are. But what sets us apart from common pickpockets is what we do with the money we steal,¡± he said. Wade led me to the map that was pinned to one of the walls. It was a detailed depiction of important Fiachran infrastructure.


    There were color-coded pins all over the map. Wade plucked a purple pin from its place, showing it to me. ¡°Each purple pin marks one of the fences we sell our stolen goods to,¡± he said. ¡°And the majority of the money¨Ceverything that isn¡¯t used on upkeep for our little gang¨Cis used to buy food, clothes, and more for the people in East Fiachra.¡±


    My vision narrowed to that purple pin, considering. So they were Robin Hood-esque thieves? That was certainly more noble than a self-interested gang. ¡°So you¡¯re altruistic?¡± I asked. ¡°You worry for the people of the slums?¡±


    ¡°It is nice to help people,¡± Wade affirmed. ¡°But I¡¯ve got my own reasons, too. We all do. Naereni wants to give blithe addicts a way out. Hofal wants us to survive.¡± He paused. ¡°I¡¯m actually not sure what Karsien wants. To show off, maybe?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure if I trusted pure altruism, anyway. I waited for a moment, but when it was clear he wasn¡¯t going to elaborate, I asked another question. ¡°Considering Blood Joan has a kill order out on me, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll be able to return the books I borrowed from the library,¡± I said a bit sardonically. It was hard not to feel bitter about that. ¡°Are you gonna turn me over to them if I don¡¯t return the books on time?¡± I asked, trying to lighten my mood.


    ¡°Not after only two weeks, no,¡± he replied ominously. ¡°But once a month passes, drastic measures will need to be taken. After all, keeping a book from new readers is a capital crime.¡± He considered for a moment. ¡°All jokes aside, I can return them for you.¡±


    I snorted, but withdrew the books from my dimension ring nonetheless. I handed them to Wade, who looked them over for a minute. ¡°It might not be much solace, but from what little my network gathered so far, I doubt the Joans will be able to keep the pressure on these other families to maintain this search for you. After a couple of weeks, you¡¯ll probably be in the clear, at least from the city at large.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t the Joans just try and report me to the Supervisory Office?¡± I asked, a bit confused. If the Joans got a warrant out for my arrest, no matter how long I waited in a forest, I¡¯d be a wanted man in the city. I thought about the actions the Granbehls would take against Arthur in response to his involvement in Ezra and Kalon¡¯s deaths, seeing how much more efficient that was. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to actually just wait out their searches as I have before. The Law would be on their side.¡±


    ¡°Blood Joan isn¡¯t the most¡­ politically adept of Bloods in Fiachra,¡± Wade replied. ¡°Their go-to method for most things is brute force, not cunning. They¡¯ve got a lot of debts piling up now because they don¡¯t have that finesse. I know some of the details, but the Joans took a huge hit when you disrupted their acidbeam paper retrieval.¡±


    I groaned, massaging the bridge of my nose with a hand. ¡°Why does everyone think I deliberately sabotaged that mission? I did everything I could to avoid that!¡±


    ¡°Something went wrong and the rich and powerful need somebody to blame, Toren. You were kinda in the perfect spot for that,¡± Wade pointed out.


    ¡°So the one time they make a politically adept move, I¡¯m the target. Of course.¡±


    ¡°It was the exact opposite of politically adept,¡± the young librarian countered, sitting down in a plush chair that bordered the map. ¡°There¡¯s a dozen accounts contradicting the Joans¡¯ from those you helped out. They just came in today, but they¡¯re too loud to silence. Unfortunately for the Joans, the only alternative is admitting they hired a bunch of unadorned and miscalculated horribly. Everyone worth their salt will know that the Joans are lying about your guilt. And that kind of shame? They¡¯ll be a laughingstock among the more powerful families.¡±


    I peered at Wade over my hand. I was gaining a measure of him through this conversation. He had a greater understanding of Fiachra¡¯s politics than I did, which made sense. I wondered how much sway he had in those politics. I opened my mouth, but my ears picked up something coming toward us.


    I peered toward a darker part of the Cistern, cocking my head as the pitter-patter came closer. Soon enough, a rat bounded out of the darkness. A small slip of paper was gripped tightly in its teeth.


    The rat hopped over toward Wade, dodging past my legs and hopping up his leg and onto his shoulder. Wade retrieved the paper from its mouth, absentmindedly scratching the little critter as he read over the message. Once he was done, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket. He flicked it on, then let the paper burn under the small flame.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± I asked, curious.


    ¡°Nothing you need to worry about,¡± he replied, pocketing the lighter. The rat bounded off into the darkness. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve met our last member,¡± he said, standing from the seat. ¡°She¡¯s been looking forward to meeting you. Also, she¡¯s the one who assured us of your character.¡±

 Chapter 29: Another Receptionist

    Toren Daen


    It turned out there was another exit from the Cistern: a simple ladder that opened under a decrepit building.


    It had been fifteen minutes since I left the Cistern, and I was still silently fuming about having to go through the sewers. If there was an entrance right there, why?!


    Of course, I knew the reason. If you wanted a swifter getaway, the sewers were more efficient and didn¡¯t leave a trail like everything else. But I was a freak for cleanliness, and that trait had only been exacerbated by my forced stay in the Clarwood Forest.


    Being unable to wash and clean myself reliably made me crave baths and showers with a religious fervor.


    I¡¯d have to get over it, though.


    Wade led me through alleyways, guiding me through mazes of broken-down buildings. We did our best to avoid unfriendly eyes, which was easier than I expected. We maintained stealth for a while, but Wade slowly relaxed as we got farther from the Cistern¡¯s secret entrance. The early evening light helped mask our movements.


    ¡°There¡¯s not much of a point trying to maintain cover now,¡± Wade said. We were both wearing cloaks to ward off the chill, which drew the attention of many of the people we passed. I could see the greed in their eyes, which made me vehemently disagree with the young librarian. We were wearing hats to cover our hair, which would hopefully make attempts to identify us more difficult.


    I flared my killing intent when a nearby ruffian with yellow-green spots on his skin started looking a little too long at us. He flinched, then quickly averted his eyes. That man wasn¡¯t the first person I¡¯d had to flex my metaphoric muscles at to make them back off.


    ¡°Considering I just had to use my killing intent for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, I think I disagree,¡± I said.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll always run the risk of getting robbed this deep into East Fiachra,¡± Wade replied, a hint of annoyance entering his voice. ¡°It¡¯s how things are out here. But we won¡¯t get tracked back to base.¡±


    I shot an uncertain look at my companion. ¡°How does anybody own anything here?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± Wade replied in a clipped tone. ¡°Most of East Fiachra is made up of nonmages. They rot here, out of sight from those who can¡¯t stand the filth. The Bloods like to pretend this district doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    I winced internally, thinking once more about how deeply I desired to be clean.


    Wade shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s something you¡¯ll get used to if you live here long enough.¡±


    ¡°You sound like you know this place,¡± I said, stepping over a rotting slat of wood in the street.


    ¡°I grew up here,¡± Wade said, raising a hand to stop me. One of his rats scampered over, no doubt delivering a report of some kind. After a second he waved me on, moving to a short, squat building. ¡°I know this place as well as any.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t live here anymore?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I got out once I manifested my runes,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s easier to get a paying job with magic. Most leave after they do and don¡¯t look back.¡±


    He opened the door to the building, which creaked on its hinges. The doorknob looked like it was ready to fall out of its frame. Inside was a small apartment complex, not unlike the one I used to live in. It was far more decrepit, though, with dust and debris all along the hallway.


    ¡°I never realized things were this bad,¡± I said. Toren never left his little section of East Fiachra, which was closer to the richer parts of the city. Though he met plenty of poorer folks, I was realizing he was quite sheltered for a young mage. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to grow up with this,¡± I finished.


    ¡°You were privileged,¡± Wade said matter of factly. ¡°Working at the library, I meet enough young people to know that most mages are. You¡¯re an exception to the rule, at least so far,¡± the young librarian said scoffing. ¡°I doubt most of them know what a slum even is.¡± Wade pointed at a man who was curled under a leaning building, huddled in on himself and moaning. ¡°That is what they want to dismiss.¡±


    It took me a minute to realize the man wasn¡¯t groaning in pain. It was in pleasure.


    ¡°He¡¯s high on blithe,¡± Wade said. ¡°It''s a hell of a drug, but it makes the rounds here. You can¡¯t step into an alleyway without breaking a needle under your feet.¡±


    I knew about blithe. It was a powerful addictive drug, nicknamed the ¡®hivemother¡¯s honey.¡¯ Whenever patients came to the Healer¡¯s Guild suffering withdrawal symptoms, there wasn¡¯t much anybody could do but let them run their course, but there was almost always permanent damage. The effects of addiction started with chronic chills, then sunken skin. Eventually, the nails on each hand would simply fall off as the body deteriorated.


    Looking around, I could see another person curled on the ground, no doubt experiencing the same sort of ecstasy. His hand had a splotch of greenish-yellow taint, a sign of prolonged addiction.


    He would die within the next couple of months with the symptoms that far along.


    I swallowed as I finally connected the dots to the yellow-green spots I¡¯d seen on so many people. I had thought it was some sort of disease at first, unwilling to believe it was so regular. ¡°It¡¯s that common?¡± I whispered, suddenly subdued. I had felt a bit of anger at being called ¡®privileged,¡¯ but in comparison to growing up around addiction?


    Wade didn¡¯t answer.


    I stared up at the building Wade led me to, eager to escape thoughts of drugs and addiction. ¡°So, who are we meeting here?¡±


    Wade knocked on one of the apartment doors. ¡°Somebody you know,¡± he said. ¡°She asked us to take you in and protect you.¡±


    The door opened, revealing a short woman with brown hair pulled into a haphazard bun. She fidgeted lightly with something in her hand, which I realized after a moment was a small knife.


    I recognized the middle-aged woman immediately. It was Greahd, the receptionist from the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. The woman had been there to greet Toren for the many years he had worked as a healer¡¯s assistant, always waving him in with a smile.


    She had also helped him in his mastery of the violin, which was something I looked back on fondly.


    Greahd¡¯s wariness vanished beneath a smile once she saw who was at her door. ¡°Ah, Wade! I didn¡¯t expect you today! It¡¯s nice to see you!¡± She looked past him, spotting me. Her eyes widened and she gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. ¡°Oh, Toren! I didn¡¯t know if you were okay!¡±


    She looked outside the door, peering either way. ¡°Come on in, both of you! I wasn¡¯t prepared for guests this late, but I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    I shuffled in awkwardly after Wade, feeling a bit disconcerted by the meeting. Greahd shut the door behind us, locking it with a rickety deadbolt.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again, Greahd,¡± I said, peering over her apartment. It was an organized mess, with items laid in haphazard groups around. ¡°I¡¯ve missed my work at the Healer¡¯s Guild.¡±


    The Healer¡¯s Guild was from a time when everything was simple for Toren, before his world turned upside down. For all the gritty things he had to see healing people, it was a fulfilling time of his life.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to hear you say so, young man,¡± she said, returning the knife she held to her sleeve. ¡°After you vanished, everybody was worried that Blood Joan had gotten to you, but they came by to ask about you every now and then, so I had hope.¡± The older woman smiled demurely, looking over at Wade. ¡°I asked my old friend Karsien if he could keep an eye out for you and keep you safe if he could. The man can be harsh, but I know he¡¯s got a heart of gold.¡± The woman said.


    I looked over to Wade, who was pointedly ignoring my gaze. ¡°Uh, just keep an eye out?¡± I asked, a bit uncomfortable.


    ¡°Of course,¡± she said, not noticing my emphasis. ¡°The Joans will eventually leave you alone. They¡¯re horrible men, Toren, but they¡¯ll get tired and move on to whatever new trend there is,¡± Greahd said, oblivious to my growing discomfort. ¡°That¡¯s what lords do.¡±


    She doesn¡¯t know I joined the crew, I realized. Karsien hadn¡¯t just ¡®kept an eye on me.¡¯ He¡¯d actively gone out of his way to recruit me. And after my interference with their expedition, Blood Joan couldn¡¯t ever afford to leave me alone.


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    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a bit more complicated than that,¡± I said. I hadn¡¯t interacted with anybody from Toren¡¯s old life extensively, but I felt a bit of unexpected shame welling up. This woman thought I was going to just lie low and then go back to working at the Healer¡¯s Guild. Instead, I was going to be a thief. That was very different from a healer. ¡°How do you know Karsien? Are you a part of his crew?¡± I asked.


    The woman gestured for me to sit in a nearby chair. ¡°I knew him when he was just a boy,¡± Greahd said, moving to a nearby kitchen. ¡°Before he got those dreams of being an ascender and ran off,¡± she added. She looked suddenly somber. ¡°Just like you and Norgan, I suppose.¡± I held my eyes shut. I was avoiding thinking of my brother too much, I knew. It wasn¡¯t healthy. ¡°But I¡¯ve got an instiller¡¯s rune. Every now and then I¡¯ll use it for him and his friends,¡± she continued. ¡°Would either of you like tea?¡±


    ¡°No thank you,¡± I replied. Wade declined as well, leaving the woman somewhat unsure.


    ¡°Maybe one day I¡¯ll be an ascender still,¡± I said, remembering my brother and my dream. It tasted like ashes in my mouth. ¡°You said Karsien was an ascender?¡± I said, wishing to learn more about my leader-to-be.


    ¡°He got a few runes when he was a teen,¡± Greahd said, settling down in her own seat. In her hands was a steaming cup of tea. ¡°Then set off to fulfill every lad¡¯s dream of earning glory in the Relictombs. Then, about a year ago, he came back to us.¡±


    ¡°He grew up in East Fiachra?¡± I asked, a bit surprised.


    ¡°That he did,¡± Greahd said, sipping her tea. The woman was a bit fidgety, but she managed to quell that now. She furrowed her brow. ¡°I wish he wouldn¡¯t do the things he currently does,¡± she said, looking sad. ¡°It¡¯s not good to steal. That brings the wrong sort of attention to the folks around here,¡± she finished.


    ¡°The man uses his power for the good of the people here,¡± Wade argued, fixing his glasses. ¡°Nobody else does. The other gangs around only fight for themselves, leaving the common person here broken and dead. What he does is good.¡±


    Greahd clenched her teacup a bit harder. ¡°There¡¯s got to be a better way to help,¡± she said. ¡°But I can¡¯t stop him.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t approve of what he does, but you just said you help him with your instiller powers,¡± I asked, confused. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that enable him?¡±


    ¡°If he won¡¯t stop,¡± Greahd said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can to keep him alive. He was a good boy when he was young.¡±


    Our little chat continued on in more demure topics of conversation for a little while more. It felt relieving in a way to speak with somebody I used to know, who had shared many an experience. I even spotted Greahd¡¯s lute in the corner, the same instrument she had used to demonstrate some of her music for me once. At the recollection, the older woman had smiled lightly, asking if I still had my nice violin.


    I didn¡¯t have the heart to tell her I¡¯d left it behind.


    A while later, I left the apartment with Wade. Talking with Greahd relieved some stress I didn¡¯t know existed. It had been so long since I had had a conversation with somebody so relaxed.


    But as we meandered in the general direction of the Cistern, a growing tension built in me.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t know I¡¯m actually one of the Rats now,¡± I said, breaching the topic. ¡°She thinks I¡¯m simply under your and Karsien¡¯s protection,¡± I said, side-eying my companion.


    Wade sighed. ¡°You never actually told her you were one of us,¡± he replied. ¡°There¡¯s no reason for her to think otherwise.¡± But from the way he kept his eyes forward, I knew there was something to this.


    ¡°Except it¡¯s easy to guess I joined,¡± I countered. ¡°She never seemed to even consider the idea.¡±


    A beat of silence followed. ¡°Greahd told Karsien very explicitly to not try and invite you to the crew,¡± he finally admitted. ¡°She wanted you to be protected, not drawn into his business. She¡¯s a kind woman, far too good for this place.¡± sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Greahd didn¡¯t want to think I was part of the Rats, so she completely ignored the signs that I was.


    I observed the skyline. The sun had set, and it would be dark before long. ¡°I promised somebody that I wouldn¡¯t take vengeance on the Joans,¡± I said, a bit of shame keeping me from looking back at the building we had left. ¡°And that promise is already practically broken.¡±


    I wondered what she would think of me if she knew I had sworn that on the Vritra. Would she be disappointed, as she was in Karsien? Or would she be hurt that I lied to her?


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a promise that could¡¯ve been kept,¡± Wade said. ¡°Not with a brother dead.¡±


    He¡¯s right, I thought, using that understanding to quash the shame. Would I be able to live with myself if I let the Joans go? If they were allowed to just¡­ carry on after taking my brother from me?


    Maybe if I was a better man.


    ¡ª


    Lady Dawn assisted me with my assimilation later that night, helping mana seep into my muscles and bones. It was getting easier and easier to do, my own control drifting closer to that of the phoenix¡¯s guiding hand day by day. I was still a millennium away from reaching her level of control, but I was exponentially better than when I first started.


    I was sitting on my new bed in the Cistern, alone with my thoughts. Wade was in the main room, doing some sort of planning on the map. I didn¡¯t know where everybody else was. My earlier meeting with Greahd repeated in my head.


    ¡°Why did you agree to help me?¡± I asked abruptly, my concentration breaking. I still couldn¡¯t really make sense of why the asura decided to be my Bond and Will. Greahd helped Karsien, even when she didn¡¯t agree with what he was doing. But I had never asked my Bond why she assisted me, and she rarely ever interfered with my actions. It didn¡¯t make sense to me. ¡°For all you knew, I was one of Agrona¡¯s pawns. I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve proven yourself genuine,¡± Lady Dawn replied. ¡°We would be unable to Bond if you bore me ill will,¡± she deflected.


    But before that, I thought, Before, I had said things only Agrona might know at this stage. She should¡¯ve smitten me on the spot.


    Lady Dawn seemed to sense my questions. ¡°I was¡­ not whole when we made our pact,¡± the phoenix said at last. ¡°My emotions were erratic and my mind a blur. So soon after my spell, I had not fully regained my own sense of self. But despite this, I could discern a core truth about you.¡±


    I turned to the phantom, something in her words compelling me.


    ¡°Your desire for vengeance was as pure as any fire,¡± she said in a low voice. ¡°It was separate from the High Sovereign. Emotion such as that is outside his understanding. He is not capable of such unfiltered feeling.¡±


    My mouth felt dry. ¡°I¡¯ve made very few promises since coming to this world,¡± I said, feeling bitter. ¡°And I¡¯ve broken many of them already. I don¡¯t want to break any more.¡±


    I had promised Greahd I¡¯d avoid taking vengeance on the Joans. I had sworn an oath to the Vritra for the same to Trelza. And I promised the Joans bloody vengeance but had yet to fulfill it.


    I didn¡¯t regret breaking those oaths. The Vritra were closer to demons than gods, and any oaths I swore on their name would be curses. But my word meant a great deal to me, and I could imagine the disappointment of those from Toren¡¯s life seeing what I was doing.


    And I had promised Lady Dawn I would stop the reincarnation of the Legacy.


    ¡°Once upon a time, you mentioned that my plans for you must have gone awry,¡± Lady Dawn said, drawing my attention. ¡°You were correct, Contractor. In truth, your survival was unprecedented. I did not expect your soul to last the journey, simply carry my own to its destination.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, confused.


    Lady Dawn considered for a moment. ¡°Souls linger for a short while after the death of the body, then drift to the Beyond. Yours, Contractor, resisted the pull of the Beyond longer than I expected. Instead of dissipating after the spell was completed, yours anchored itself in another host. One that was suitable for it,¡± she said. ¡°This Vessel would not keep my soul contained long. I would drift off to the Aether once my task was finished. But you inadvertently provided me something I did not have for a long, long time. A choice for my future.¡±


    I swallowed, taken aback by the emotion in her words. I looked at my hands.


    She doesn¡¯t expect me to succeed, I realized. She simply relished being able to act.


    I didn¡¯t know what to feel about that. She didn¡¯t expect me to actually follow through on my Pact. She didn¡¯t believe I¡¯d manage it. That hurt in a way I didn¡¯t expect.


    I remembered the words she told me when we first made our contract. ¡®I shall hold you to your word,¡¯  she¡¯d said. ¡®I will hold to mine.¡¯


    All this talk of my reincarnation pulled questions to the fore. About how I was here in the first place. How I looked like I did in my previous life. Why Norgan looked like my brother from Earth.


    And why Toren and I felt so mutually devastated over Norgan, despite him being an objectively different person than any person I knew.


    And as I looked into Lady Dawn¡¯s eyes, I realized that she might answer. She waited there, her translucent form stiff with expectation. She knelt on the bed, her hands crossed steadily over the lap of her sundress. She met my gaze with a note of hesitation.


    ¡°You spoke of choice,¡± I said instead. ¡°But you haven¡¯t tried to influence my own. Why do you let me act so freely?¡± I questioned. The only times the phoenix truly commanded me was during my training in the Clarwood Forest. Outside of that, she hadn¡¯t spoken her opinion on much at all. ¡°I don¡¯t think you agree with every choice I¡¯ve made.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s posture relaxed. Was that relief? I questioned myself, noting the change. You¡¯re a coward, I chastised myself, recognizing the chance to question the circumstances of my reincarnation was past.


    ¡°Many of your decisions have been shortsighted and rash, perhaps bordering on lunacy,¡± Lady Dawn said bluntly. Ouch. ¡°But despite the depths of our Bond, I have no right to impose my will over yours. Your choices are your own.¡±


    I looked around my room, which would be my base of operations for the foreseeable future. My walk through the destitute streets called back to me. I still had so much to learn.


    ¡°Could you advise me from now on?¡± I asked sincerely. ¡°I¡¯m not sure of half the choices I¡¯ve made myself, either. It would be nice to have a second opinion, from a viewpoint that isn¡¯t so¡­ small.¡± A small firelight popped into existence over my palm, dancing in tune with my mana flow. ¡°There are so few people I can trust in this new world. I¡¯d like to trust you.¡±


    Lady Dawn looked surprised by my request. ¡°Very well,¡± she said at last, watching the firelight with me. ¡°You shall have my council.¡±

 Chapter 30: The Art of Thievery

    Toren Daen


    ¡°Do you know what makes or breaks a heist?¡± Karsien asked, leisurely walking down the streets of East Fiachra. He wasn¡¯t wearing his Rat ensemble, but a simple half-mask covering his forehead and eyes. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean getting caught or failing to lay out a contingency plan. Tell me, Toren, the essence of thievery.¡±


    We were touring the northern parts of the district. There was a dampness to every surface that seemed to seep into the heart of the suburb. The small coating of snow from a few days ago had begun to melt, making the dirt roads muddy and wet. Small orange firelights burned within shuttered windows.


    A few toughs around an alleyway stared Karsien and me down, watching us with dark expressions as we moved by. Those men were fighters. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be the element of surprise?¡± I asked, unsure. ¡°A plan to steal something will never work if it''s expected.¡±


    Karsien tisked. ¡±Not quite,¡± he said, turning down an alleyway. Sensing something behind us, I shifted my stance and glanced behind me. Was it the toughs from before? ¡°You can steal from somebody, even if they¡¯re expecting you all along.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because the essence of theft,¡± Karsien said, drawing my attention back to him, ¡°Is misdirection.¡±


    He was twirling a dagger in his hand, deftly whirling the steel through his fingers. A very familiar dagger. I squawked in outrage, grabbing at my belt. Sure enough, my weapon was gone. The man had swiped it in the split second I had looked behind me!


    ¡°How?¡± I said, baffled. There was a good four feet between us, and I had only looked away for a moment!


    Just that instant, the ruffians I had noticed earlier crowded into the mouth of the alleyway. There were five of them, each tall and strong. There wasn¡¯t much meat on their bones, probably from lack of food. But they were imposing and held a palpable bloodlust.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got a few new neighbors in town,¡± the lead man said. There were only a few hairs on his head, which were weathered and worn. He was missing more than a few teeth. ¡°How about we show them the ropes?¡±


    I thrust my hand to Karsien, my palm open. ¡°Give that back,¡± I said, ignoring the men. I spent good money on that knife and had grown attached to it in the past month. ¡°You¡¯ve proven your point.¡±


    The ruffians snickered. ¡°They think we¡¯re playing about, don¡¯t they? How¡¯s about we show them why they shouldn¡¯t ignore us?¡± the lead man said, nudging his fellows.


    ¡°Touchy about your things, are we?¡± Karsien chided me, tossing the dagger in the air. Sensing an opportunity, I pulled on it with a flare of white telekinesis, causing it to lurch toward me. I caught it by the handle, deftly sheathing the weapon once more.


    At the sight of my obvious magic, the men trying to box us in suddenly looked very, very unsure.


    Karsien shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined half the fun already, Toren,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Now they¡¯ll run.¡±


    Sure enough, the men turned, shuffling to get away from two people who were obviously mages. They shouted apologies as they bolted out of the alleyway, scrambling to get away from us.


    Karsien whistled. ¡°That was faster than expected.¡± I raised a brow, crossing my arms in irritation. The Rat ignored me, continuing on. ¡°But as I said, the art of thievery is misdirection.¡±


    A form materialized out of mist at his feet, growing from the ground like a sprout. In a second, a mirror image of Karsien stood by his side. The clone dropped a pouch into the original¡¯s hand, then gave a deep bow. The illusory form of mist dispersed into the alleyway, its task complete.


    So the clones did have a physical presence.


    Karsien hefted the bag in front of me. ¡°Those bandits were entirely focused on the two of us. The fools didn¡¯t even consider they might be the ones getting robbed.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°If only they didn¡¯t let themselves be drawn into a trap.¡±


    Karsien tossed the pouch to me, which I caught with one hand. Inside were a few copper marks. It wasn¡¯t that much money.


    ¡°First rule of theft: wherever somebody isn¡¯t looking is where they can be stolen from,¡± he said cheerily.


    I frowned at the pouch. ¡°You told me you only stole from wealthy Bloods.¡±


    Karsien rolled his eyes, dismissing my concerns. ¡°The Rats as a whole only work together to steal from those up above. What each of us does on our own time could be something entirely different,¡± he continued. ¡°Besides, those men would¡¯ve been entirely content leaving our bodies in this alley if they could manage it.¡±


    I sighed.


    ¡ª


    We continued to walk for the next few hours, attracting the attention of men who believed they could rob us. It didn¡¯t take nearly as long as I expected to get the hang of snagging coin purses.


    The confidence of the assailants helped. For all they knew, Karsien and I were a couple of well-dressed merchants or tourists. Our clothes weren¡¯t of the best quality, but they were clean. That made us stand out like a spot of white amidst a sea of black.


    My telekinetic pushes and pulls were amazing for covertly snatching items off my targets. I had to focus a lot more on fine control. I hadn¡¯t tried to dim the light of mana that my crest emitted before this, but it was possible if I concentrated hard enough. I actually managed to untie a man¡¯s rope belt as he tried to approach with a light tug of my power.


    Part of me felt guilty over taking the coins from my unwitting victims, but the other part of me realized that there was no way this money was earned honestly. How many other poor fools got beaten in an alleyway for these small discs of copper?


    The money felt dirty. By the time I was done, I was half tempted to leave all the coins in an alley somewhere. But the second part of my afternoon involved introducing me to one of the Rat¡¯s covert buyers. It was an older man who exchanged the goods for food and supplies, which the people of East Fiachra needed desperately.


    Once the trade was done, I was left with a dozen loaves of bread.


    It was nearing late afternoon now. Karsien strolled out of the building, which was closer to the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild than I was comfortable with. I was wearing a mask now, hoping against hope I wouldn¡¯t be spotted by anybody who might report back to Blood Joan.


    ¡°So I¡¯ve got all this food,¡± I said, storing a few of the loaves in my dimension ring. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have enough space for everything. ¡°But what are we going to do with it?¡±


    Karsien seemed more somber now. ¡°Come on, Toren. It¡¯s time you see the fruits of your labor.¡± He leaped up onto the rooftops, beckoning me to follow. It wasn¡¯t easy running about with my hands full of bread, but I managed to make do. My senses were on high alert now, though: Blood Joan had sent out a kill order for me. I had been hiding my more distinguishing features like my hair and chain tattoo, so I shouldn¡¯t be easy to track down.


    But you never knew.


    I recognized the area we moved to as the suburb I had visited with Wade last night. Sure enough, Karsien skidded to a halt, beckoning me over. We were near Greahd¡¯s apartment building.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be needing those loaves of bread, now,¡± he said. I obliged, handing him what I had in my arms. With a moment of concentration, I drew the rest from my dimension ring as well. A couple of clones of mist popped into existence next to Karsien, taking a few of the loaves with them. Then they bounded off the roof, zipping toward Greahd¡¯s apartment. Looking between the clones and the leader of the Rats, I still couldn¡¯t tell the difference between them.


    ¡°What are they doing?¡± I asked. ¡°Delivering it to Greahd, I¡¯m guessing?¡±


    Karsien nodded, the original crouching leisurely on the roof¡¯s edge. ¡°That they are. We need to be covert with our support, or else the Bloods will have an excuse to take it all away,¡± he said with a suppressed sneer. The intensity with which he uttered those words vanished a moment later, dispersing like the mist he was so proud of. I wondered if I had imagined it.


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    Greahd exited her apartment, hauling a small wagon behind her. Inside it was an old cast-iron pot, all the loaves of bread, and a bunch of other items I couldn¡¯t recognize. She pulled it with purpose, a measure to her step that I could feel even from a rooftop yards away. Her boots squelched in the muddy streets, but that didn¡¯t deter her in the slightest.


    Karsien and I trailed from the rooftop, watching her as she tugged her load along. After a short while, a few men and women began to fall in step behind her. A few of them showed the telltale signs of blithe addiction, the constant use of the drug making their fingernails fall off and their skin develop splotches of greenish-yellow taint.


    Remembering the events of earlier today, I began to move. If those people wanted to rob Greahd, they¡¯d face my magic. I stood up, ready to jump down and intervene.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Karsien interjected, causing me to hesitate. ¡°They aren¡¯t going to rob her. Look more closely.¡±


    I looked down at the men and women following Greahd. More and more joined as the seconds ticked on, and I realized after a while that they weren¡¯t following her to steal from her. They followed her in the same way a drum major led a marching band.


    After a while, Greahd reached a large intersection. A canal ran along its edge, something that surprised me. While the rest of the city was interspersed and crisscrossed with waterways, East Fiachra was empty of them. The few I had seen were dried up, with no water rushing along. This singular conduit, however, carried water eastward.


    Greahd began to unpack near the edge of the water. The people who had been following her moved in, helping her unload all that was in her wagon. A few other people joined them with pots in their hands Soon, I could make out what they were doing.


    ¡°They¡¯re making a cookfire,¡± I said with surprise. A few large cast iron pots were arrayed in a circle, all filled with water from the nearby canal. Men were setting small cuts of firewood beneath each one, working together to light fires. A woman directed some leaner men in miscellaneous tasks, clearly setting up some sort of gathering.


    ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± Karsien said as a few of the fires finally lit. The people below began to mix ingredients from Greahd¡¯s cart into the pots, mixing and stirring to make some kind of stew. Chatter and noise grew from below, drawing many more to the growing fires. ¡°If there¡¯s anything you learn today, it should be this. There are many different kinds of theft.¡±


    People lined up for the stew, laughing and conversing with those nearby in line. With my mana-enhanced senses, I could smell the brew from here. It was thick and hearty, clearly a meat stew of some sort. I found myself involuntarily salivating.


    Bowls of the broth were passed out to those in line along with a serving of bread. After the first wave was served, Greahd picked up her lute. The men and women cheered her as she began to play, her normally reserved and fidgety nature dissolving under the confidence of her voice.


    ¡°The Company of the Rat takes wealth. We steal coins and jewelry, pulling them from under the noses of those who think themselves our betters,¡± Karsien said, watching as some of the men began to dance to the tune. The sound of raucous laughter echoed into the air. ¡°But the Bloods of Fiachra? They take something from these people greater than we ever could.¡± He gestured to the decrepit buildings all around us. ¡°They take their hope.¡±


    The sun was setting now. The day was overcast and cloudy, and a light drizzle was in the air. Karsien stood, looking down at the dancing men. The obscuring mist that wrapped around him was invisible in the rain. ¡°So we steal their hope back for them,¡± he said at last.


    ¡ª


    I was practicing my telekinesis later that evening; a bowl of stew emptied nearby. The rain outside had picked up, and some of the water was drizzling through the Cistern¡¯s skylight. The water followed a clearly preordained path, draining away into the sewers. Naereni was talking with Karsien a ways away, focused on the planning map on the edge of the main room. Hofal was polishing a tobacco pipe, periodically looking at it to make sure the shine reflected his face.


    I was trying to use three telekinetic pushes at once. It was surprisingly difficult: I needed to split my mind in a way that took extreme focus at the start. I was reminded of when I first started learning to drive a manual transmission, and how I needed to sync the movement of pressing in the clutch and shifting the gears. Your brain initially thought through each and every step, trying to forcefully rationalize what was better done by instinct.


    My range of telekinesis had also increased. When I started, I could only affect things within a fifteen-foot radius of myself. Now it was closer to twenty feet. The influence I could exert over objects that far out was barely worth noting, however: the force I could use was exponentially greater the closer it was to my body.


    I had two telekinetic pushes lightly pressing against the wall I was facing. They weren¡¯t enough to move me, only a pound or two of force each. But the trouble was adding another push.


    Whenever I tried to shift my focus to add another push, the other spells would waver from my lack of attention. I could feel the rune on my back offloading some of that attention, but there was still a minimum needed to maintain the effect. I ironed out my focus as the second push flickered from my drifting thoughts.


    A third flare of white light slowly brightened on another spot of the wall, the effort of my extreme focus causing me tunnel vision. Slowly but surely, it began to press against the wall as well. The first push started to waver this time, but I didn¡¯t relent.


    Eventually, the third push stabilized as I adapted to the sensation. I maintained the effect for half a minute, relishing in the success.


    Getting stronger every day, I thought, thinking about my core. I was close to breaking out of the light orange stage, something that delighted me to no end.


    I was interrupted by a bedraggled Wade dropping down the ladder. The man had taken the brunt of the rain outside, and the cloak he was wearing clearly didn¡¯t protect him enough. He shivered, wiping the fog away from his glasses.


    ¡°Do you need me to light a fire?¡± I asked, noting how he failed to ward off the chill. The others here: Naereni, Hofal, and Karsien all could strengthen their bodies with mana, the effect of some sort of rune. That helped keep the body warm. But Wade was a sentry, meaning he didn¡¯t have any runes that permitted body strengthening. ¡°You look like you jumped in the Sehz,¡± I said with a snort.


    ¡°That would be nice,¡± Wade affirmed. I conjured a large fireball, then let it drift over to the sentry. It let off low heat, dancing around the young man in lazy loops.


    Hofal finally put the pipe in his mouth, stuffing it with some tobacco. At least I thought it was tobacco. ¡°Could I get a fire, too?¡± the axe-wielder asked around the pipe.


    I rolled my eyes in good-natured annoyance, but sent over a tiny will-o¡¯-wisp to his pipe anyways. Whatever was inside began to burn quickly, eliciting a contented ¡®humph¡¯ from the shield.


    Wade was looking at the burning pipe with an intrigued expression. ¡°Say, Toren?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°What mage class are you, exactly? You¡¯ve got a bunch of caster spells, but also a few striker spells, too. Which is it?¡±


    I stilled, feeling the eyes of most of the room. Only Hofal seemed to dismiss the question, content as he exhaled a ring of smoke.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I would be designated as,¡± I said eventually. ¡°My first rune was telekinesis, which was a Mark of a Caster until I upgraded it to a Crest through mastery. But everything else? I don¡¯t know where it would put me. Maybe a combination of striker and caster?¡±


    None of what I said was untrue. I didn¡¯t think any mortal mage had successfully created a collage of magic types like I had, merging the Dicathian and Alacryan methods so seamlessly. Funnily enough, I was sure my mana shroud would count as a ¡®shield spell¡¯ here, too.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Wade said, shaking off his drenched cloak.


    ¡°I¡¯ve only got a couple of runes,¡± Naereni said sourly. ¡°I¡¯ve got a crest that strengthens my body and reflexes, as well as a mark that lets me do this.¡± She conjured a small ice cube into her hand, then tossed it toward Wade, who was focused away from her. In a perfect landing, it hit the back of his neck and slid down his shirt. The young sentry yelped, the frozen solid trailing down his back.


    Naereni chuckled as Wade cursed. But what Naereni said made me think. ¡°Wade said that most mages that grow up here that get runes just leave,¡± I said. ¡°What made you stay?¡± I asked the striker, curious.


    She stopped harassing Wade for a moment, who looked very, very bedraggled. She looked somewhat sheepish. ¡°Well, I might¡¯ve left, but I was just really, really good at swiping things. I see something not tied down, not protected, and I just get this¡­ itch. They don¡¯t have jobs for that anywhere, so I didn¡¯t go.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Besides, when Karsien gets down to teaching me some more, I¡¯ll be able to do some good.¡±


    She was silent for a moment as she stared at the fire. ¡°And, one day, I want to get rid of the blithe epidemic around here. I¡¯ve seen good people die to that stuff. They just¡­ whither away, into a shell of what they used to be. Like a block of ice melting, leaving nothing left. Never got hooked myself because of that.¡± The young woman was silent. ¡°I watched it take my pops. He wasn¡¯t a good man, but he was better than most ¡®round here. Only hit me sometimes, and only when I was bad.¡±


    The room was quiet for a long time. Each person seemed to be thinking about what Naereni had just said, coming to their own terms with it.


    ¡°You know,¡± Hofal said, setting down his pipe, ¡°When I was young, I watched a temple to the Vritra Doctrination being built in the outskirts of Etril. Mages called up stone in little blocks, then sent each one off to nearby strikers with enhanced strength, who¡¯d cart the stone to who-knows-where. Then they¡¯d slowly pile each brick up, making the temple bit by bit.¡± The man tapped his wood pipe against the ground. ¡°Me, being a good-for-nothing whippersnapper who didn¡¯t yet know the wonders of cherry tobacco? I watched it from afar, peering down from my mother¡¯s tall apartment. It was all stupid, I thought. Why make a whole bunch of tiny blocks if one of the Scythes could just swoop over and make it all at once? Those people ran about like ants with their work. It all felt very contrived.¡±


    The man had a strange look in his eye as he reminisced. ¡°But as the weeks wore on, the building grew taller and taller. It soared above my home, reaching the sky. And then they added the paint, and the arches, and the domes. The people worked and worked, everybody pitching in to make their worship a reality. And when the steeple was finally set atop the top, my good-for-nothing whippersnapper self had never seen anything more marvelous.¡±


    Naereni was looking at the older shield with something complicated in her eyes.


    ¡°The point I hope I¡¯ve gotten across, girl, is that everything important starts with little blocks. They look small, like swiping a trinket off a man¡¯s belt or stealing into his manse, but eventually, they come together in a beautiful structure. You just need time,¡± the shield finished.


    I opened my mouth but closed it again after a moment. Hofal¡¯s story felt strange to me. Could I build up to my grand structure? Was it really possible to lay small bricks over time, slowly reaching for the heavens? Did I have the time to lay my foundations; set my pace?


    After a little while, the silence was broken by Wade. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I have to pull you all from your talk. I came down because I got some information recently. Tonight is going to be the best night for our next heist.¡±

 Chapter 31: The First Heist

    Naereni


    The Rats grouped together as Karsien called a meeting, each of us taking a position around the old map of Fiachra. Wade gave Karsien a brief overview of whatever he¡¯d found, leaving the finer details to our leader.


    Karsien narrowed his eyes behind his mask, observing a spot on the map.


    I¡¯d only seen his face beneath the mask once.


    ¡°For those who are unaware,¡± Karsien said, clearly indicating Toren, ¡°We¡¯ve been scouting out a supply warehouse for a while now. It¡¯s owned by a lesser-known Blood called the Ilasons.¡± Our leader retrieved a stack of paper from the table, holding it up. ¡°They have an unfortunate habit of withholding pay from their unadorned employees. Unfortunately for them, that little tendency is going to cost them far more than they ever saved from their pay cuts.¡±


    Karsien¡¯s grin was savage.


    I ruminated a bit over Hofal¡¯s words from a few minutes earlier. The man had a way with his stories and comforts, but I didn¡¯t want to wait. I didn¡¯t have the time to set my ¡®little blocks.¡¯ Each day blithe continued to poison the lives of everybody I knew.


    Karsien started going over the plan for the infiltration, drawing me from my introspection. It was standard procedure and something I had reviewed a dozen times before. Instead of tuning into our leader, I covertly measured our new member.


    Toren was a good mage, but he¡¯d make for a poor thief. He didn¡¯t even look over the people he was with, checking the value of their goods. Being a good thief wasn¡¯t just about how fast and quiet you were like Kars told him. It was about seeing what was valuable.


    Part of me was thankful for the help he¡¯d given us a week ago. While Hofal and I would¡¯ve gotten out of our predicament just fine because of our trump card, his assistance ensured it.


    The other part of me wondered why Karsien had invited the boy in so easily. He got a stellar recommendation from Auntie Greahd, true, but that didn¡¯t mean we let him into the Cistern on the same day he joined. Karsien rarely trusted me like he ought to. I was second-in-command, according to him. But he hadn¡¯t even briefed me on Toren¡¯s admittance into our band.


    That might¡¯ve been why I went so hard on him in our spar.


    I settled myself. I shouldn¡¯t question Karsien. My mentor knew best about these kinds of things.


    ¡°--And so Toren will be joining you on your mission,¡± Karsien finished saying, startling me to attention.


    ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, unsure.


    ¡°Toren will be joining you and Hofal as an additional backup,¡± Karsien repeated. ¡°The Bloods are on high alert for us already, as evidenced by their attempt to capture you a week ago. Another fighting mage will be reassuring.¡±


    I shoved down a vehement refusal. It had taken a month to get Karsien to let me on a job, and only after I had proven myself. I had earned that trust.


    ¡°But he¡¯s only just joined,¡± I said instead, trying to work from a logical angle. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it make sense for Toren to get some more practice in first before attempting this?¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t be there to help you steal,¡± Karsien elaborated. ¡°But to protect. You¡¯re right that he doesn¡¯t have enough experience with stealing to make a difference.¡±


    ¡°And I can muffle your steps,¡± Toren said from the side. ¡°I might not be that great at picking locks, but if you¡¯ll never make a note with me nearby.¡± He raised a foot, then brought it down hard on the bricks. The impact made no sound.


    Another rune? I thought, incredulous. How many did he have?


    I¡¯d seen Toren use a fireball, telekinesis, coat his arms in fire, some sort of sound explosion, body strengthening, a shield over his arms, and now this. It was astounding.


    Hofal patted me on the shoulder, seeming to understand my unease. The man silently puffed a ring of smoke, content to follow along. I wished I could be as confident as he was.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, trying and failing to restrain a bit of irritation. ¡°But you¡¯ll follow my orders while we¡¯re out, alright?¡± I said, leveling the young mage with a stare.


    He looked disconcerted by my response but nodded anyway.


    A map of the warehouse and surrounding area was laid out on the table, with several key points of interest highlighted. There were several points marked where infiltration would be possible, with clear routes to the main office of the warehouse. Wade¡¯s rats had scouted the place thoroughly, leaving us with a clear picture of our objective.


    Apparently, one of the warehouse¡¯s more competent mages was currently off work sick, something Wade had learned before coming here for the night. I smiled at our sentry as Karsien went over what he¡¯d uncovered. He returned the smile hesitantly, then quickly returned his attention to the map. Too quickly.


    One day, I¡¯ll make you keep that smile trained on me, I thought, a bit smug that I could make him so nervous, but also a bit annoyed.


    I returned my attention to the plan. It was simple: get in, grab the goods, get out. We had a reliable schedule for guard patrols as well. If we were careful, we wouldn¡¯t ever be spotted.


    I tapped my finger against my arm. It was never that simple.


    ¡ª


    Toren, Hofal, and I moved through the sewers, taking predetermined twists and turns toward an eventual maintenance access hole. I took the lead, sure in my steps. We each wore our Rat masks.


    I could hear Toren taking measured breaths through his nose behind me. The stench of the sewers was a chore to adapt to, but he was managing.


    I spotted a musk crab scuttling on some debris in the water. Its eyes, which were raised on stalks, were barely visible in the dark. The little creature scuttled past us, getting a bit too close to Toren.


    The paranoid man speared it with his dagger before it could get any closer. It writhed on the blade, eight-shelled limbs struggling weakly on the edge of his steel.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to kill it,¡± I said sourly. I liked those little crustaceans. They made the sewers more lively. Added some spice to the monotony.


    ¡°Anything with more than four legs doesn¡¯t deserve to exist,¡± Toren said darkly. ¡°It¡¯s part of my religion.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worship the Vritra?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think the Doctrination has any Doctrines against crustaceans,¡± I said it as a joke, but I hadn¡¯t gone to a temple since I was really, really young. For all I knew, the Vritra could have a Doctrine against crabs. Were there crab asura in Epheotus?


    The body of the musk crab, which had eventually gone still, vanished with a flash of light. Toren had clearly stored it in his dimension ring. ¡°Basilisks don¡¯t have legs in their asuran form,¡± the young mage replied. ¡°I think they should be offended by something having eight.¡±


    ¡°If they don¡¯t,¡± Hofal piped in, ¡°You could try and become a Vicar and petition our Sovereigns to add some laws against crabs,¡± he said with a good-natured laugh. ¡°You already have an old vicar¡¯s mask. You look the part.¡±


    ¡°I do?¡± Toren said, sounding confused. ¡°You mean the iron mask I wore before this one? I thought it was just an old antique.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a simple antique,¡± Hofal replied. ¡°The design is not as well known as it should be. Those iron masks were popular amongst the clergy before High Vicar Varadoth standardized the vicar¡¯s garb.¡±


    I listened in, curious. The Vicars were the priests who preached for the Vritra Doctrination. Most had Vritra ancestry, but I was fuzzy on the details. I hadn¡¯t attended a worship service in over a decade and a half, which made me offer a silent prayer of apology to the Sovereigns. I hoped that was enough.


    Hofal naturally knew more about this, considering his background.


    Toren muttered something I couldn¡¯t hear. ¡°Are you a dedicated faithful?¡± he asked, nodding to Hofal. ¡°You seem to know a good bit about the Doctrination. More than I do, it seems.¡±


    ¡°In the long-gone days of my youth, I was more pious,¡± he replied. ¡°I worship the Vritra as much as any man should, though. They saved us from our mortal squalor, after all, granting us magic and all that. But I can¡¯t make it to a temple every week.¡±


    The conversation dropped off after that, but Toren didn¡¯t seem content to let the quiet rest. ¡°So, Naereni,¡± he started, ¡°What exactly does it mean that you¡¯re the ¡®Young Rat?¡¯¡± he asked, clearly curious. ¡°If Karsien is the ¡®Rat,¡¯ does that make you his student, or something?¡±


    Or something. Karsien was supposed to be teaching me, but that had stalled in the past few months, much to my chagrin. With too many duties and work getting in the way, my mentor kept me in the dark.


    ¡°That, and I¡¯m the official second-in-command for the Rats as a whole,¡± I replied. ¡°If you¡¯ve got a problem and Karsien isn¡¯t there, I¡¯m your go-to.¡± I felt a slight smirk creep across my features, banishing the bit of irritation that I felt remembering my delayed training. ¡°I get to tell you what to do, Toren.¡±


    He snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t think you can make me lick your boots, ¡®Young Rat,¡¯¡± he shot back chidingly.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t thinking that,¡± I said slyly, turning over my shoulder to look Toren in the eye. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just make you clean the Cistern¡¯s bathroom for the next month.¡±


    I expected more of a reaction, but Toren actually seemed to be thinking it over. Before he could respond, we reached our destination, an old service ladder that was rusting and worn, creeping down the side of the sewer walls like a descending vine.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± I said, alerting the two behind me. I hopped up the ladder, stealthily opening the manhole far above. Peering each way down the street, I gave the all-clear. We piled out of the sewer quickly and quietly, then ducked into a nearby alleyway.


    Hofal summoned a familiar artifact from his dimension rune, using it to freeze the sticking sewage on his boots. It rotated around our group before being handed back to the shield.


    Finally ready for action, I rolled my neck. We were in South Fiachra now, not far from the main mouth of the Sehz. The warehouse we were aiming for sat along the shoreline of the mighty river, Fiachra¡¯s gateway to the wider continent.


    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the plan,¡± I whispered, the looming boxy warehouse behind me. ¡°Toren and I will go in the top window, keeping to the scaffolding for stealth. Hofal, you¡¯ll enter from below, keeping an exit clear for us. You¡¯ll be our cover for any unexpected incidents at our backs.¡±


    We¡¯d gone over this at the hideout already, but it never hurt to repeat the plan. I could only hope that Toren would be able to match our stealth.


    I gestured to Toren, who followed after me. I increased my speed as I gracefully approached the warehouse, using one of my marks to suffuse my muscles with mana. I leapt a good ten feet in the air, conjuring small picks of ice in my hands. Before I could impact the wall, I rammed one of the small icicles into the bricks, feeling it lodge there. Then I jumped another ten feet, catching the lip of one of the windows.


    Hofal darted to a side entrance of the warehouse, covertly messing with the lock. He¡¯d have it open soon.


    I peered inside the window. The warehouse was dark inside, but flickering lantern light and low mana-powered artifacts spread a consistent luminescence across the large area. I could spot a dozen crates inside, but I didn¡¯t have any sort of spellform to enhance my vision further. I thought there might have been some sort of sigil painted on the crates, but I couldn¡¯t tell. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A bit of white mana flared on the edge of the window. Toren soared up to my side, having used his telekinesis to anchor himself to the wall as he jumped.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t anyone patrolling over the scaffolding,¡± I whispered to the newest Rat, peering back through the misty pane of glass. ¡°We¡¯re going to get in now.¡±


    Toren spared a glance through the glass himself, his attention zeroing onto the warehouse floor. ¡°Those boxes have the crest of Blood Joan painted on them,¡± he said, his eyes narrowing behind his mask.


    He could see that well? I thought. Vision enhancement, then? Another spellform, or a different application of one he already showed?


    ¡°Don¡¯t let yourself get sidetracked,¡± I chided, knowing the bone the young man had to pick with the family. I could respect that vengeance, but I wouldn¡¯t allow him to compromise our mission for it. ¡°We¡¯re here for one thing, and those crates are not part of our heist.¡±


    Toren shook his head, seemingly banishing those thoughts. ¡°Of course,¡± he said, though I wasn¡¯t sure if he had truly removed them from his mind. ¡°I¡¯ll follow your lead,¡± he reiterated.


    I conjured another ice dagger, but this time focused intently on the edge as it formed. I focused my desire through my crest, willing the blade to be sharp. Sharper than anything else.


    The knife settled into my hand, the way it fit into my palm a familiar reassurance. Without wasting a second, I began to pull the edge along the panes of the wind, tracing a wide, circular outline. This blade I had formed was extremely brittle, so I had to work cautiously. Toren kept an eye on our surroundings, making sure we weren¡¯t surprised as I continued my work.


    Soon enough, I had carved an oval through the glass. With a hesitant push, a thin section of glass popped out, almost falling to the ground below.


    I caught it before that could happen, gently setting it aside. After making sure the coast was clear once more, I slipped through the thin opening into the warehouse. Toren followed after but with noticeably more difficulty. He wasn¡¯t as lithe as I was, after all.


    A network of metal walkways hung over the warehouse, allowing men and women to traverse and observe the goings-on below. They also provided amazing vantage points and opportunities for stealth, which I exploited mercilessly. Toren and I followed the predetermined path Wade had outlined for us, avoiding several snoozing guards along the way.


    The Rats had swiped some of Blood Ilason¡¯s gold once before, and the security was just as lax the last time, too. I chuckled to myself inwardly as I glided past a guard once he passed our intersection.


    Toren suddenly laid a hand on my shoulder, gesturing behind us. My eyes widened as I saw what he was gesturing to: a few men were trailing along the walkway from where we had come. They hadn¡¯t noticed us yet, but it would only take a glance.


    Thinking fast, I dropped over the side of the walkway. Conjuring a tool of ice in my hands, I used a construct with a hook-shaped end to latch onto the underside of the scaffolding. I pulled my legs up, planting them on the underside of the metal. My heart beat in my chest as Toren scrambled off the side as well, his hands glowing with telekinetic power. The mage suctioned his hands to the bottom of the walkway. He hung next to me, feet dangling and strangely managing to keep himself anchored to the bottom of the platform by just his palms. The act clearly strained his magic if his slight frown of concentration gave anything away.


    The footsteps of the guards echoed closer, thumping in time with my heartbeat. They finally reached our hiding place, the echo of boots on metal continuing on overhead.


    ¡°--think Blood Ilason will actually ship this?¡± A guard said in a low tone, but audible from where we were. His clothes weren¡¯t that expensive, but I spied a flash from a bangle around his wrist that was probably worth a pretty penny. The other guards halted in place, clearly ready to start up a conversation about this. They stopped right over the top of us.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish, Chem! It¡¯ll make them money. No way they don¡¯t sell the goods.¡±


    I looked up through the grate-like mesh of the walkway, watching the guards with a rising sense of terror. One of their boots was just to the side of my face. I could see one of the men hadn¡¯t shaved in days if the light patchy stubble on his chin was anything to go by. He had a nice buttoned coat, probably bought in West Fiachra. He wasn¡¯t looking down.


    ¡°Aye, maybe, but with all that the Joans have gone through? It¡¯d be foolish to keep doing business with¡¯em! The Ilasons should back out already,¡± he said.


    ¡°And what do you know of Blood politics?¡± another scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re a third son of an unknown Blood!¡±


    ¡°I know enough about the world, Kan!¡± the one called Chem spat back, clearly antagonized by the former. ¡°Besides, it isn¡¯t good for reputation, selling what the Ilasons sell. Once Blood Joan crashes, their business will be dug up. And the Ilasons will lose a lot of face from having worked along!¡±


    I met Toren¡¯s eyes as he dangled from his palms. A bead of sweat was running down his cheek where the mask ended, and I knew from the light in his eyes that he couldn¡¯t maintain his hang for much longer. He¡¯d swing up there and beat those men senseless if he had to.


    He¡¯s not a thief, I remembered. He¡¯s a warrior.


    My heart pounded as the men continued to bicker, but a second later they began to walk away. Their little argument receded with their footsteps. I waited another few seconds, making sure the men were out of sight, then swung back over the railing.


    Toren joined me a second later, shaking out his arms. I didn¡¯t know how he was feeling, but my arms burned where I held the ice hooks.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I mouthed, nodding toward a door nearby. That was our target: the walkways converged on this small room that jutted over the warehouse, providing the overseers a good view from above of all their minion¡¯s work.


    We scuttled toward the door, nervous about any more patrols. I knelt down before the door, coalescing two small utensils of ice. I began to quickly pick the lock, fiddling with the tumblers inside.


    There! The final pin latched into place, and the door clicked open. I turned the doorknob, opening the door silently.


    I was almost immediately greeted with a club to the head. Toren stepped in, grabbing at a wooden bat as it nearly clipped my skull. I jumped back in alarm, but Toren surged inward instead. The door swung open fully, revealing a short guard who had tried to beat my head into the ground.


    Toren easily disarmed the man, then delivered a solid punch to his stomach. The man keeled over, scrambling away from the mage. He opened his mouth to scream.


    No! I thought, worry rising in my chest as I dashed forward. We couldn¡¯t let him make a sound. If anybody was alerted that we were here, the operation would be over before it even began!


    The man tried to scream. He tried. His chest moved as if he should be exhaling air, and no doubt sound, but nothing came out. That made him even more terrified, his eyes darting about.


    I grabbed the man before he could scramble away, maneuvering him into a chokehold. My forearm pressed against his neck, cutting off the blood flow to his brain. The man struggled for a few moments, but stood no chance against my body when it was strengthened with mana.


    He slumped shortly afterward, unconscious. I let him drop to the ground quietly.


    I peered over at Toren, who was lowering his hand. The man had cut off the sounds this guard would have been making, saving the operation.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I whispered, confident it was safe to speak now that the guard was down.


    ¡°No problem,¡± Toren said back, pulling the door behind us closed. It locked again with a click. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there would be anyone in here,¡± he said, referencing the guard slumped on the floor. I withdrew a bit of rope from my dimension rune, using it to bind his hands and stuff his mouth. Even if he woke up sometime soon, he wouldn¡¯t be going anywhere.


    ¡°It makes sense,¡± I replied. ¡°The mage that usually guards this room is sick today, but that doesn¡¯t mean there would be no guard at all. He¡¯s probably a last-minute replacement.¡±


    Once I was done securing the guard, I stood up, looking over the room. It was decorated rather lavishly for what I guessed was a warehouse supervisor¡¯s headquarters. Spread out over a large table were several papers, but the real prize was behind a small door in the corner.


    The safe was sculpted from the structural supports with metal magic, something that was common to prevent theft. Safes like these seemed to grow out of the building itself. This was intentional: a thief could pull anything they wanted into their dimension ring if it was large enough, but if their target was literally a part of the building, it would be exceedingly difficult to store the box. The more advanced safebox designs actively disrupted a dimension ring¡¯s use instead, meaning it was impossible to pull into the small storage. Those were more difficult to crack, and far, far more expensive. Luckily, I only had to deal with the budget version.


    The lock for the safe was keyed to a certain mana signature instead of a more common tumbler system.


    I withdrew a special tool from my dimension ring. It looked like a dull sphere with grooves along the side, but it was in fact a tuning artifact. Holding it up to the locking mechanism of the safe, I synchronized the two with my mana.


    Now came the tricky part. Mana locks that needed unique mana signatures acted a lot like normal pin locks, anyway. A certain roughness in a person¡¯s mana signature would perfectly fit a predetermined groove. The sharp essence of a mage¡¯s affinity might allow another piece to slide into place. A dozen of these interlocking pieces worked together to recognize a mage¡¯s mana signature, at least roughly.


    I worked through the metaphysical lock, probing with my mana to nudge certain parts either which way. Time slipped away as I maneuvered around each puzzle piece, each part that bound into place sending a thrill through me. And finally, I cracked the code.


    It took five minutes before I finally unlocked the thing, which was painfully long. The door of the safe swung open, revealing a small stack of jewels and papers. I pulled both into my dimension ring, then swung the safe shut once more. Mission accomplished.


    I stood, stretching out the aches in my back from standing still for so long. ¡°We¡¯ve got the goods,¡± I said, turning around. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    But Toren didn¡¯t seem to hear me. But he was leaning over the papers that were spread on the large table, anger present in his features. His teeth were clenched, a muscle visibly rippling along his sharp jawline. He tapped a finger as he scoured over the papers, the contents clearly souring his mood.


    He looked up as I approached warily. ¡°Naereni,¡± he whispered. ¡°You¡¯ll want to read this.¡±

 Chapter 32: Blood Money

    Naereni


    I cautiously edged over to the papers on the large table, which were laid out in a jumble. I picked up a random page, scanning over the contents.


    Delivery delayed due to unforeseen interference during retrieval, big bold letters claimed. More details were scrawled out in dark ink below. I opted to scan over the parchment, knowing we were short on time already.


    Acquisition of acidbeam paper delayed. Expect setbacks in the distillation of new product for you to sell.


    On it was a seal depicting an ember laid at the fork of a river, that of Blood Joan.


    I grabbed another paper. It had a similar message to the first regarding the distribution of ¡®product¡¯ and the Ilason¡¯s duty to sell whatever Blood Joan created. The details were annoyingly hazy, with clever wording to shroud deeper understanding.


    ¡°Do you know what they¡¯re talking about?¡± Toren said, clearly invested. Considering some of these papers mentioned the effects he had caused in the Clarwood Forest, it made sense. ¡°I mean, what does Blood Joan want the Ilasons to distribute? What are they selling?¡±


    I frowned, wondering the same. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°Clearly something that uses the acidbeam paper, but the uses for that are innumerable. Probably something magical?¡± I pointed to the paper I was holding in my hand. ¡°This one uses the word ¡®distill,¡¯ which means it''s got to be a potion of some kind.¡±


    Truth be told, I didn¡¯t know much about Blood Joan¡¯s operations. I only knew about the Clarwood Forest expedition because it was so out of character for the Blood to do it themselves. Fiachra maintained a steady harvest of acidbeam paper because of its value, but the Joans going out of their way for an entire nest instead of an intermediary was unprecedented. Wade usually managed the information side of our operations, so he would know better.


    These papers never explicitly stated what kind of product was being distributed by the Ilasons on behalf of the Joans. They were being deliberately vague, as was the rest of the wording on the other sheets of paper here.


    Why? I wondered, the gears in my brain spinning. I felt on the cusp of some realization, something that would cause all the pieces to fall into place. I felt a bit of dread in my chest; whatever conclusion I was inching toward was a horrible one.


    And then I found the last puzzle piece. Another paper had a name that stood out to me, one that caused my hand to subconsciously grab it. It was a contract for a man named Larun. He was to circulate product throughout East Fiachra at a specific rate, then give the majority of his profits to the Ilasons. The Ilasons would deliver product to him every couple of weeks to sell.


    The pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked into place, just like when I managed to bind every pin in a lock. The door to knowledge swung open, and I shrank in on myself. I felt cold; as if a bucket of ice had been dumped on my head.


    Distillery. Product. East Fiachra.


    ¡®Probably a potion of some kind,¡¯ I had said.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± I said shakily, knowing exactly what I was looking at. Toren¡¯s head snapped up to look at me, clearly hearing the realization in my voice. I drew Larun¡¯s contract into my dimension ring.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Toren asked, suddenly worried. It seemed he was catching my mood. ¡°What did you find out, Naereni? Are you okay?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°We need to leave now,¡± I said, brushing away his concerns. He looked unsure but complied as I headed out the door. The walkway was empty of people, but with the growing anger in my gut, I doubted I¡¯d be able to maintain stealth anyway.


    Escaping the building was easier than getting in in the first place. Thankfully, Toren and I only had to evade one guard patrol as we walked, and they didn¡¯t stop to chat as they mozied on by. I was glad for that.


    Once we were out, I dropped by Hofal. He was observing the main entrances to the building from a nearby rooftop, providing cover for us in case someone unexpected came from the outside.


    Usually, I didn¡¯t have a sentry to watch my exit. Toren took Hofal¡¯s usual place as my second because Karsien wanted him to get some experience, but that left Hofal out of his normal job. So I dropped him here to watch our backs.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I said sternly. ¡°Come on. We¡¯ve got to go.¡± Toren trailed right behind me, looking between Hofal and me.


    ¡°Did you get what we came for?¡± Hofal asked, worried by my strange demeanor. ¡°No hiccups?¡±


    ¡°Their safe is emptied, Hofal. Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± I bit out. How did I react to what I had just discovered? What did I do?


    ¡°So, are you going to tell me what you figured out?¡± Toren hedged as we moved toward the alley where the sewer access point was.


    I ground my teeth. ¡°You read the papers we found, Toren,¡± I said back. ¡°Blood Joan is making some sort of product with acidbeam paper, then strongarming the Ilasons into selling it around.¡±


    Toren nodded. ¡°Yeah, I got that much. But they weren¡¯t exactly clear on what they¡¯re selling,¡± he said. ¡°Whatever it is, I¡¯m guessing it''s stored in those crates in the warehouse. They had the Joans¡¯ crest on them, after all.¡±


    ¡°The reason they weren¡¯t clear was that if it became widespread what Blood Joan is making, they would have hell to pay from the Supervisory,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re making blithe.¡±


    Hofal stopped in place, shocked. Toren¡¯s face went pale. ¡±The drug?¡± he asked again, as if what I said needed clarification. I had been crystal clear.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied harshly. ¡°The same drug that¡¯s devasted East Fiachra for the past half a century. Blood Joan is the one making it!¡±


    Toren turned back to the warehouse, a strange look on his face. He didn¡¯t look angry. A strange mask of determination settled over his features. I realized it then: he wanted to march right back to that building and burn it to the ground.


    He is not a thief, I remembered again. He is a warrior.


    I was half tempted to let him act. Toren¡¯s mana actually flared with palpable anger. Then something changed in his face. He seemed to deflate, and a second later Hofal laid a hand on his arm. ¡°Come on, son. If you wanna burn that place to the ground, you¡¯ll need to plan a bit beforehand. Too many bystanders,¡± the big shield said. Toren reluctantly let himself be pulled to the sewer drain.


    Hofal dropped down into the muck after me. ¡°How do you know it¡¯s blithe they¡¯re making?¡± Hofal asked as we trudged along, the dour mood weighing on us like a blanket.


    ¡°They had a contract for a man called Larun,¡± I said. ¡°According to the paper, Blood Ilason would give him the ¡®product,¡¯ and he¡¯d sell it to ¡®customers¡¯ at an agreed price. Every two weeks, he¡¯d give the profit to Blood Ilason.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I know Larun. Spindly, conniving little man from the outskirts of Sehz-Clar. And he deals blithe to addicts who will never stop taking.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to do with what I¡¯d just learned, but I knew who would. Karsien always knew the next step to take. I could trust him with this.


    ¡ª


    The Cistern never felt more welcoming to me as I stepped through the sliding facade brick wall. I barely waited for Hofal¡¯s freezing artifact to clean off my shoes before I bolted through the area, looking for Karsien.


    I found him quickly. He was at our map with Wade, peering over some documents. I didn¡¯t know what they were for, but that didn¡¯t matter right now.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Karsien, I need your help,¡± I said, ignoring the startled look from Wade.


    ¡°Naereni, you¡¯re back quicker than expected,¡± he said, neatly ignoring my request. ¡°Were you successful in your heist? Manage to outwit all your foes?¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes I was,¡± I said quickly, trying to organize my thoughts. ¡°Look, what we¡¯ve been doing doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ve discovered something really, really big. The Joans, they¡¯re working with the Ilasons. And some other people, I think.¡±


    Wade stood, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes. ¡°Naereni, wait. You¡¯re speaking too fast. Slow down, please.¡±


    Hofal and Toren caught up to me as I tried to shuffle my thoughts into reasonable order. ¡°Blood Joan¡¯s been using the Ilasons to distribute blithe through East Fiachra, and I¡¯m guessing several other families, too. And if we can figure out how they¡¯re doing so, we can cut the problems of addiction in this district off at the root!¡± I said with growing enthusiasm, pointing at the location of Blood Joan¡¯s estate on the map of Fiachra.


    When I first found out the Ilason were distributing the blithe to East Fiachra, I was livid. But as I walked through the sewers, I realized something important: if we knew the source of the infection, we could cut off the flow at the source. My goal of finally ridding East Fiachra of the scourge of blithe could be real. And just like Hofal had said, this was the first block in my grand temple.


    I was expecting Karsien to share my enthusiasm. He would congratulate me for my find, and tell me that it was a worthy lead to follow. We would make real progress in fixing East Fiachra.


    Instead, he just nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said in his normal tone. ¡°What did you find out specifically? Did you wrangle it from some unsuspecting noble?¡±


    I slowly lowered my arm, sensing something was off. I knew Karsien well enough now. If this was something new to him, there¡¯d be a self-satisfied glimmer in his eye. Or maybe a little more tension than normal in his stance as he processed the information. Did he¡­


    I looked at Wade sharply, narrowing my eyes. He wilted under my gaze, looking at the floor instead of me.


    ¡°You already knew,¡± I said, the implications boiling inside of me. ¡°You both knew about this and didn¡¯t tell me!¡± sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wade winced at my raised voice. Karsien spoke up instead, the witty sarcasm in his voice replaced by an irritating nonchalance. ¡°I¡¯ve been following leads toward the production of blithe for a while now,¡± he said. ¡°Wade has helped me map out information and track down leads on this under my orders.¡±


    I stepped back, a feeling of betrayal rising in my stomach. ¡°How long?¡± I said, looking at Wade. ¡°How long did you know?¡±


    He closed his eyes. ¡°A few months,¡± he said. ¡°I wanted to tell you, Naereni. I didn¡¯t want to keep this a secret from you, I promise. But Karsien told me to keep it quiet.¡±


    My mouth went dry. A few months. Three months ago, the method of my missions changed per Karsien¡¯s order. Our targets became more specific, and the procedure more careful. Nab the contents of a specific strongbox. Take the papers from this filing cabinet. Before we had been more random and indiscriminate in our thefts.


    When I asked Karsien why, he had just told me that he was perfecting the art of the steal. Taking things that wouldn¡¯t be missed, or grabbing items and information that could be sold at a profit.


    The deception burned in my chest. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I asked Karsien, trying to keep the emotion from my voice. I was supposed to be his second-in-command, to take up his mantle one day! And he didn¡¯t tell me about operations he¡¯d been doing for months? About something so close to my purpose?


    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to know yet,¡± Karsien replied bluntly. ¡°If you knew any earlier, it could have changed our plans or compromised my ability to keep things under control. You¡¯re impatient.¡±


    ¡°Then why Wade?¡± I asked sharply, gesturing to the young man. He was still staring at the floor. ¡°How did he not ¡®compromise your ability to keep things under control?!¡¯¡±


    ¡°His network was invaluable to me,¡± Karsien countered matter-of-factly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do half the things I needed to without him.¡±


    ¡°And my help wasn¡¯t invaluable?¡± I said, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice.


    That seemed to get through Karsien¡¯s skin. He hesitated, thinking over his words, clearly deciding what the best response was. To try and make up some sort of flamboyant way to dismiss my concerns.


    In the mess of my thoughts, another thing finally made sense. It only served to stoke the flames of my anger higher. ¡°Of course Blood Joan saw us coming,¡± I muttered, my eyes widening in realization. A week ago, our heist against the Joans had gone awry because they had been expecting Hofal and me to infiltrate. I had assumed our band had a mole in it, feeding information to the Joans. I had brought up my concerns with Karsien, while also trying to make covert investigations myself. ¡°We made a pattern, striking at points related to their operations. Of course, they expected us to hit them eventually.¡±


    I didn¡¯t wait for Karsien to reply, too angry at the two-fold betrayal. I turned on my heel, stalking toward my rooms. I heard Hofal say something to Karsien before I was out of earshot.


    ¡ª


    I spent half an hour twirling ice daggers through my hands as I lay on my bed, thinking of a dozen different things at once. Normally, working the ice through my hands helped me focus. It centered me, allowing me to think clearly. But my thoughts were a jumble now, and I had a hard time trying to clamp down on any specific idea.


    A knock sounded on the door to my room. ¡°Naereni?¡± Hofal said from outside the door. ¡°May I come in?¡±


    I stopped moving my daggers, holding them still above me. They were nearly entirely clear, but a crystalline blemish here and there created small reflections where I could see my short black hair.


    ¡°Come in,¡± I said at last.


    Hofal came in slowly, closing the door behind him. The Cistern only had natural light in the central chamber, so all the illumination in the other rooms came from lighting artifacts. They cast Hofal¡¯s face in a strange glow.


    ¡°I came to check on you,¡± he said slowly, his gruff voice at odds with the words. ¡°I wanted to see how you were doing.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to tell me another story about how old this sewer system is?¡± I said scathingly. ¡°Maybe tell me it¡¯s not so bad because these rocks have lasted two hundred years and that I can, too, if I just hold on a little longer?¡±


    Hofal paused, and I recognized the emotion that flashed over his face. It was gone in an instant, but what I¡¯d said had hurt him.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Hof. I shouldn¡¯t have said that.¡±


    Hofal was quiet for a moment. ¡°Perhaps I tell too many stories about the stones around us,¡± he said somberly. ¡°And if it makes you feel any better, I was going to say something similar.¡±


    I might¡¯ve snickered at that if I was in a better mood. I banished the daggers into the atmosphere, feeling the spell unravel once I released control. ¡°Why won¡¯t he trust me?¡± I asked, a question that had been burning in the back of my mind for a long time now. He called me his protege, the Young Rat. I was supposed to be learning more, taking on more and more responsibility.


    ¡°He does trust you, Naereni,¡± Hofal responded. ¡°Otherwise, he wouldn¡¯t believe you capable of leading me¨Cand now Toren¨Con our heists.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°That¡¯s not the trust I mean, Hof. He trusts me like a boss does his employee, not a master their student.¡± I stared at the ceiling. ¡°What will it take, Hof? For him to actually teach me?¡±


    Hofal talked about bricks making grand temples. I didn¡¯t want to be another brick. I wanted to be an architect.


    Hofal was quiet for a very long time. ¡°Kars doesn¡¯t like to trust,¡± he said at last. ¡°I¡¯ve known him a long time. Nearly a decade now, you know. Do you know where I met him?¡±


    ¡°On an ascent,¡± I replied, having heard this story before. What was the point of this tale now? ¡°You partnered up in the Relictombs. Then worked together on and off for years after.¡±


    Hofal sat down in a chair near my desk. ¡°Ah, the relictombs. The ancient mages had a truly grand sense of design. If you look at their structures, you can usually see an overlying methodology to¡­¡± The shield paused, catching himself as he saw the look in my eye. ¡°I have gotten off topic. Yes. You know the story, after all. I got a young Karsien through his first few ascents, helping him win a few accolades. You know some of our stories, but not the most important one.¡± Hofal paused. ¡° But I don¡¯t know the most important story, either.¡±


    I peered at the shield from my bed, confused.


    ¡°Karsien used to be a lot more trusting, Naereni. It was one of the things that drew people to him. It wasn¡¯t a foolhardy trust, mind you, but he took you at your word unless you proved otherwise. Even despite his unblooded status, he was popular. People felt compelled to be honest around him.¡± Hofal pawed at his jacket, an unconscious habit he did whenever he looked for a cigar. The man caught himself, though, and forcefully returned his arm to his lap. ¡°He was an awful lot like young Toren in that regard, I suppose. But something changed on his last ascent a little over a year ago. Somebody did something to him that wounded him deeply.¡±


    I blinked. I hadn¡¯t heard this before. ¡°What happened?¡± I asked, curious.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Hofal shrugged. ¡°And he won¡¯t tell me. He refuses to, no matter how much I¡¯ve pried. He¡¯s locked up tighter than the bowels of Taegrin Caelum now. But whatever happened out there is what drew him back to his hometown of Fiachra.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how this makes things easier for me,¡± I said with a sigh. Though the story was interesting, it felt irrelevant to me right now.


    ¡°It probably doesn¡¯t,¡± Hofal concurred. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t have followed Karsien for so long if I didn¡¯t believe the man he used to be wasn¡¯t still in there somewhere. It might be buried deep, but I know you can get to him.¡± He paused. ¡°You have been already.¡±


    Hofal let me ponder his words after he left, the questions bouncing around in my head. Twirling my daggers did nothing to simmer the chaos in my head.

 Chapter 33: Reasons

    Toren Daen


    I watched Naereni go, a complicated mix of feelings settling in me. From what I could gather, Karsien knew about Blood Joan¡¯s drug-mixing operations and had for some time. The fact that he was taking steps without Naereni¡¯s knowledge, and utilizing Wade¡¯s help, must have felt like a massive betrayal.


    She was supposed to be his second in command, after all.


    I looked at the Rat up and down, a new understanding finally clicking into place in my mind, like the final piece of a complicated puzzle. The picture it formed was now crystal clear, obvious with the last little segment.


    ¡°So that¡¯s why you recruited me,¡± I said wonderingly. ¡°You wanted a weapon to point at Blood Joan. A knife with which to sever the corruption from the healthy flesh. Not a thief. A warrior.¡±


    It made sense. If Karsien had been making plans and gathering information against Blood Joan and this operation for the past few months, then bringing me on, a mage who had a blood vendetta against them, was a wise choice.


    I felt a bit of anger at that. I wasn¡¯t just a weapon to be pointed at something Karsien wanted destroyed; a tool of his machinations. Another part of me felt resignation. I had signed up for this, knowing the man had deeper motives. And even better, those motives matched my own. I knew mages were weapons, regardless of what they wanted.


    Karsien narrowed his attention on me, his stance more rigid than before. The conversation with Naereni had affected him, but I didn¡¯t know the man well enough to tell how. ¡°No, not sever corruption from healthy flesh, Toren,¡± he said, more bite in his tone than he used with his protege. ¡°Blood Joan isn¡¯t a wound that can just be excised. They are a limb that needs amputation. You were a surgeon¡¯s assistant once, weren¡¯t you? You understand this.¡±


    The bitterness in his voice surprised me. It was something I recognized well; an anger that resonated deep within. Blood Joan had hurt Karsien somehow. The look in his eyes was personal.


    Before I could latch onto that familiarity, the storm dampened, then vanished back into Karsien¡¯s relaxed posture. He seemed to shed the effects of the conversation, his confident and guile-filled air returning like water filling in a breach. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter to you, does it Toren? You¡¯ll get what you want sooner or later.¡± A pause. ¡°Congratulations on your first heist, by the way. I hope you made a good impression on any who saw you.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, even more unsure about the man in front of me than ever before. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Karsien waved at me with a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ll call you back here shortly. There¡¯s something I want to talk to you about later.¡±


    Understanding the dismissal, I shuffled to leave, catching the look on Hofal¡¯s face before I went to my room.


    He had a sad, mournful look stretched across his features. He seemed far older with that expression. It was something about how his wrinkles deepened, and shadows coated his brow.


    ¡°Thank you for helping me back there,¡± I whispered under my breath. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I might have done if you hadn¡¯t stopped me.¡±


    Lady Dawn hovered at my side, the familiar darkening of shades and colors beckoning her arrival. ¡°Your actions were wiser than they may have been, Contractor,¡± she said, sending a glance behind me to Karsien. ¡°I have another note of advice if you are inclined to take it.¡± Her arms were folded neatly over her stomach, the picture of poise.


    When Naereni had told me about what Blood Joan was doing, a familiar anger swallowed my thoughts. It wasn¡¯t just me that the Blood was hurting, but every broken addict in East Fiachra. I knew what drugs could do to a person; how addiction broke them down.


    In my previous life, I knew where the people who enabled such things peddled their wares or wrote false prescriptions. But in that life, I didn¡¯t have the power to burn a warehouse to the ground or bring such false men to justice. I couldn¡¯t send their supplies to the sky in an explosion of mana and energy. But in Alacrya? I could make that warehouse burn.


    Lady Dawn had intervened, citing the risks of such an act. There were people inside, who might be blind to what was being sold. Burning the warehouse could spread fire to the surrounding buildings, causing it to break out of control and cause far more harm and damage than I wanted. And if I wanted to destroy the Joans, I needed to do it methodically, not in a fit of emotional rage.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to hear what you have to say,¡± I said at last, reaching my room. The Cistern didn¡¯t have a particularly tall ceiling, so I always felt like the rooms were looming down on me. With the narrowed vision and dampened colors of the Unseen layering over it all, that feeling was multiplied.


    ¡°This Rat,¡± Lady Dawn said, gliding alongside me as I moved, her phantom form glowing slightly, ¡°Cannot be trusted wholeheartedly. He is a man who keeps his thoughts close to his chest, unwilling to share them with those he needs to. I doubt he will guide to you your goal straightforwardly, if at all.¡±


    I contemplated Lady Dawn¡¯s words for a moment. ¡°But he does have a grudge against Blood Joan,¡± I replied, feeling conflicted. ¡°I could feel that much. The same as you did when you decided to trust me.¡± I paused. ¡°We have the same goal, don¡¯t we? Why would he try and lead me astray?¡±


    ¡°The destination of your journeys may very well be the same spot,¡± Lady Dawn replied as we walked into my room, ¡°But the paths you tread are different. And to take the next step on his road, obstacles can easily be shifted to yours. That does not mean to abandon trust completely, merely be conscious of this man¡¯s nature.¡± Lady Dawn looked contemplative. ¡°An alternative may be to grow closer with your other teammates, but maintain a distance with their leader.¡±


    ¡°You make a good point about Karsien,¡± I acknowledged, ¡°But what would distancing myself from him like that do to help me along?¡±


    ¡°The man desires to control,¡± Lady Dawn replied. ¡°It is his crutch and his drug. He shows it in the very nature of showmanship, in how he wishes to influence others around him and maintain information. Show him that some of that control may be slipping; that his unwillingness to trust has caused him ill rather than gain. Not too much, however, else he may try to assert his control with an iron grip.¡±


    I sighed as I fell down onto my bed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± I mused, thinking back to the night before when Karsien had shown me the good he had done. The intensity in his eyes as he watched Greahd distribute the food felt just as real as the anger I saw today. ¡°Does he want the best for the people around here, or is it vengeance against Blood Joan? He felt genuine last night when he showed me the good the Rats were doing.¡±


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°Motivation is a complicated concept, Contractor. This Karsien may not be driven by just one objective. He may have complementary end goals; one to see his enemies fall, and the other to see his allies prosper. But that does not detract from my earlier statement.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an awfully insightful look into humans from an asuran mind,¡± I said musingly, more to myself than to the phoenix.


    ¡°It is engrained,¡± Lady Dawn replied, countering my observation with what could either be obliviousness or apathy.


    The moment stilled, then I asked a question that had been tugging at the back of my mind for a while now. ¡°What do you do when you¡¯re not gliding over the stones in front of me?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you just¡­ vanish into my core, or am I just not able to see you?¡±


    Lady Dawn cocked her head, seemingly surprised by my question. ¡°When I appear before you, I simply choose to make myself visible to your eyes,¡± she said, answering that question. ¡°Where before you are blind to the true workings of the world, I allow you to peer a bit deeper for a few minutes at a time,¡± she said.


    I furrowed my brows, sitting up from my bed. So it was like the latter. Lady Dawn essentially put the magical equivalent of night-vision goggles over my head, allowing me to detect infrared light. ¡°Wait, does that mean you can just explore on your own? Go off wherever you want for a time?¡±


    The phoenix hesitated. ¡°No, I cannot move far. As I stated before, I am bound to you in more ways than one,¡± she said evasively.


    Perhaps it was a bit selfish, but it felt comforting to always know that I could call for Lady Dawn. That thought immediately soured with guilt as I realized the implications of her words. I never gave it much thought before now, but Lady Dawn couldn¡¯t leave me. She was probably stuck trailing after me as a ghostly shadow, only able to be seen by a single person. She wasn¡¯t clear on the details, but it was a prison nonetheless.


    My mouth felt very dry. ¡°You traded one prison for another,¡± I said guiltily, looking at the floor. It was I who initiated the offer for her to grant me power, and it seemed that I still wasn¡¯t fully aware of the implications. She escaped her capture by Agrona only to be bound to me, unable to interact with the world or speak to anybody else.


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    ¡°This is no prison,¡± I heard Lady Dawn say, surprisingly resolute. ¡°I have more freedom here than I enjoyed in an age.¡± She paused. One of her dusky purple hands brushed against her forehead. ¡°And my mind¡­ my mind is my own. My choices are my own. This is no prison.¡±


    I struggled to accept her answer. Her bars might be far, far better relative to her previous conditions. But just because the injustices she faced now were minor compared to the past did not make them less injustices. But looking into her simmering eyes, I knew I wouldn¡¯t be able to change her mind.


    ¡°Is there anything I can do to make it better for you, at least?¡± I asked hopefully. ¡°It must be awfully boring to just stand around all day, unable to interact with anything.¡±


    The asura contemplated this for a second. ¡°It would please me if I could have some reading material,¡± she said slowly. ¡°I do not know what my options are, though. It has been many years since I have been allowed to enjoy a book.¡±


    ¡ª


    And so, a few minutes later I found myself in front of Wade, who looked crestfallen at the recent scuffle he had with Naereni. If I wanted a book from a library, the obvious avenue was talking to the librarian.


    I coughed into my fist, drawing Wade¡¯s attention. He had been stooped over the table in front of the map of Fiachra, reading over a few papers.


    ¡°Oh, Toren,¡± Wade said, adjusting his glasses. The man was dressed in dark trousers and a light buttoned shirt that was looking very wrinkled. ¡°I didn¡¯t notice you there. I hope I didn¡¯t ignore you too long.¡±


    I spared a glance at Wade¡¯s work. It was a smaller map, with certain buildings highlighted in light ink with notes scrawled around them. ¡°You didn¡¯t miss me,¡± I said. Peering closer at the map in front of him, I felt a note of curiosity. ¡°What¡¯re you working on, exactly? I recognize one of the marked buildings as the one I just helped steal from.¡±


    ¡°Ah, this is part of what Karsien had me working on,¡± the young man said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. ¡°These points are for warehouses that Blood Joan uses to distribute their drugs,¡± the sentry said, gesturing to a few of the dots. ¡°I don¡¯t know what Karsien was planning on doing at each of these places, but he had me tracking their locations and movements for a while now.¡±


    ¡°I thought the boss man wanted you to keep quiet about that,¡± I replied, remembering Karsien¡¯s stern rebuke of his protege.


    ¡°There¡¯s not much of a point to that now,¡± Wade said bitterly. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think there was a good reason in the first place.¡±


    I stared at the small map. There were a surprising number of warehouses: at least six that he had identified. ¡°So, is acidbeam paper used in the creation of blithe?¡± I asked, staring intently at the map.


    Wade identified something in my tone, causing him to take his eyes away from the paper. ¡°I think it is. Nobody really knew the origins of blithe here in the slums,¡± he said with a note of understanding. ¡°The drug has been called the hivemother¡¯s honey for the longest time, but most people didn¡¯t know the origin of that. In more recent months, I¡¯ve sent my rats to the deeper parts of the Joans¡¯ operations, and have discovered concrete proof of it. The secret for its creation has been hoarded closely for years.¡±


    It clawed at something deep in me that all the men who died on the acidbeam hornet attack did so at the whims of glorified druglords, looking to get their next product out on the market. But I didn¡¯t let the thoughts overwhelm me. I couldn¡¯t.


    I shook my head, dispelling the thoughts. ¡°I actually wanted to ask you if you could get me a few books from the library,¡± I said, changing the topic. ¡°Seeing as you¡¯re a librarian, it probably wouldn¡¯t be too hard to sneak out a few extras for me.¡±


    Wade sat up straighter at this. ¡°I could do that for you,¡± he acknowledged with a tired smile. ¡°Anything in particular you want?¡± he asked.


    ¡°A few primers on Mana Theory,¡± I said, stating what I wanted for myself. ¡°And are there any nonfiction reads you¡¯d recommend for somebody who hasn¡¯t read anything in that genre at all?¡±


    Wade¡¯s eyes glittered, pushing away some of the earlier melancholy. ¡°Nonfiction is a bit too broad of a category for me to pick out anything. Do you mean philosophy? Language? Science? History?¡±


    I realized that the phoenix¡¯s request of ¡®anything nonfiction¡¯ included half of the genres of reading known to man. I felt the urge to call out to Lady Dawn and ask what she really wanted, but it was a bit late for that.


    ¡°Do you have anything on the stars or constellations?¡± I hedged, taking a gamble at what the phantom asura might appreciate.


    I felt even more guilty that Lady Dawn would need to use me as an intermediary for this, as she couldn¡¯t interact with the outside world. I was like a jailer to her, as she couldn¡¯t ask Wade himself.


    Wade seemed to think for a moment. ¡°I can think of a few books on the cosmos. Maybe Aldoreth¡¯s Encyclopedia of Stars, then. That has a lot of old folk tales about the stars in it for somebody who wants a good story. But a Catalogue of Constellation¡¯s Movement Across Alacrya has more data-backed information.¡± The man looked at me. ¡°Which would you like?¡±


    ¡°Both?¡±


    Wade chuckled to himself. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can get you in a few days, Toren.¡±


    I felt thankful for his help on this. ¡°Thanks, Wade,¡± I said with a smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± he countered, staring back at the papers in front of him. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot on my hands right now, though. I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll get you those books.¡±


    ¡°Are you the only one able to do the work, though?¡± I asked, looking over the sheets he had. ¡°Can anybody help you with it?¡±


    ¡°Karsien didn¡¯t want me going around with this,¡± he replied with a bitter shrug. ¡°Though¡­ you just gave me an idea to fix the mess I¡¯m in,¡± he said, a hopeful smile crossing his face. He gave me another nod as he got back to work.


    Lawrent Joan


    I was pulled from the depths of my sleep by a forceful pulse of mana at my door. It thundered outward, crashing against me and banishing my dreams to oblivion.


    I scrambled upward, lightning jumping to my hands as I fought against the blankets that covered my body. I was smothered by them, and I almost felt like they were trying to strangle me.


    I couldn¡¯t see out from them. The cloth pulled at my arms, restricting my mobility. I needed to move!


    The spell cloaking my fist burned the cloth around me, causing smoke to billow in the air. Once I was out from under the cloth, I forcefully buried the panic I had been feeling, calming my breathing. I was Lawrent Joan. I did not feel fear from simple bed sheets.


    But the cool air was a welcome relief from the smothering heat from under my blankets.


    Who dared interrupt my sleep?! I thought, ignoring my embarrassment and shame for my earlier weakness. I despised close spaces. I¡¯ll have their head!


    My chambers were equipped with everything a noble Blood should have. The decor was exquisite, showing the grand power that Blood Joan wielded. One could feel how solid the furniture was just from looking at it, the hardwood polished to reflectiveness.


    I powered on the light artifacts above with the flick of a nearby switch, making me wince as the darkness retreated.


    In the reflection of my nightstand, I could see my own bloodshot eyes.


    And one of the utter necessities that my room held was a sword kept leaning against my bedside. I grasped it, ready to decapitate the fool who had made me shame myself.


    Before I could rise, however, Dornar barged into my room. He sported his usual cocky grin, his stride more fit for a prancing swiftsure horse than a man.


    Seeing his confidence made my blood boil. Had he awoken me?


    ¡°Explain yourself, Dornar! Tell me why you interrupted my sleep or I¡¯ll have you flogged!¡±


    Dornar spared a glance toward my still-smoking blankets, causing my grip on my sheathed sword to tighten.


    Did he know?


    ¡°Word just in, brother!¡± he said cheerily. ¡°The Rats robbed the Ilasons¡¯ warehouse that held our product.¡±


    I thought of all the product that was stored in that warehouse, and all the profit it would make my house. The method for creating blithe was a closely held secret amongst highbloods, but I had won it through my own ingenuity and grit a few years ago from a unique person.


    With the product, Blood Joan¡¯s failing prospects had seen meteoric recovery. Where before we were the laughing stock of Fiachra, a one-trick Blood who had decimated their rivals in a lucky slaughter, now those around us whispered my name in the shadows in fear. As they should.


    It was dangerous to create blithe in Sehz-Clar: Scythe Seris herself had expressed her displeasure regarding the substance openly. But where everyone else cowed to her whims, I saw a true opportunity. True profit.


    And the Rats had stolen all of that profit from me.


    Lightning erupted from my hands as I struck out at my nightstand, shattering it into splinters. First they ruined the acidbeam paper retrieval, making it impossible to produce more blithe. Then they took my product for themselves.


    ¡°Those unblooded bastards plan to sell it themselves!¡± I snarled, realizing their plan. If no new blithe was entering production, demand would skyrocket while supply plummeted. Those thieves would make a profit off of my work!


    ¡°Thing is, brother, they didn¡¯t actually steal the blithe!¡±


    My spell fizzled out as I tried to process my brother¡¯s words. ¡°But you said the Rats robbed the Ilasons¡¯ warehouse!¡±


    ¡°I never said they stole our product,¡± Dornar chided. ¡°They stole from a safe I rigged. It sent a mana pulse alllll the way over here. I went over and checked, and sure enough, none of your product was touched.¡± My brother grinned. ¡°So you can wipe that scowl off your face. It makes you look terribly ugly. Moreso than usual, at least.¡±


    I hissed through gritted teeth. ¡°If they didn¡¯t steal the product from us, I don¡¯t see the point of waking me in the middle of the night!¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯ve finally confirmed something about how the Rats are getting their information!¡± Dornar said cheekily. ¡°And with this, they¡¯ll finally succumb to us like the rodents they are.¡±

 Chapter 34: Investigations

    Naereni


    It was with mild irritation that I let Wade into my room after he knocked, watching him as he held a thick stack of papers. Normally, I might¡¯ve prodded at his arm or ruffled his hair. Those provoked a reaction that I savored. Today, he had a couple of days of stubble on his chin and looked even more tired than usual, his day shift at the library keeping him awake for the rest of the hours.


    I forcibly quashed the burgeoning sympathy I felt for him. He had lied to me along with Karsien, keeping me out of an important decision.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked briskly.


    Wade seemed taken aback at my tone, but continued nonetheless. ¡°I, uh, wanted to show you what I¡¯ve been working on for the past few months,¡± he said, referencing the stack of paper in his hands. He had one lock of hair out of place that I had a primal urge to fix.


    I quashed that too.


    I frowned at him. ¡°So now that the secret is out, you¡¯re going to tell me about what you were working on? When it¡¯s already done?¡±


    ¡°Karsien didn¡¯t tell me I could show you this either,¡± he replied in a clipped tone. ¡°I came here because I wanted to.¡±


    We locked gazes for a moment before I relented. Regardless of my irritation, I did need to know the contents of those papers. ¡°Fine. What did you figure out?¡±


    Wade¡¯s shoulders slumped as I gave him the go-ahead, some tension leaking from them. He moved over to my desk, which didn¡¯t have anything on it, and set down the heavy papers. He spread them out in a specific manner, clearly having done this before. Then he beckoned me over to look. I stood shoulder to shoulder with him, allowing me to see exactly what he was indicating.


    ¡°A few months ago, Karsien asked me to keep an eye out for certain pieces of information,¡± he said, pointing to a specific paper. On it was information about a minor Blood house scrawled in messy handwriting, with what looked like¡­ departure and arrival times for carriages? ¡°He told me to report it to him only, and that''s how it started. He¡¯d ask about a few Blood houses and their comings and goings.¡± He shuffled through a few more papers, which allowed Naereni to see the random information. ¡°After a while, though, I started to notice a pattern. On select days of the week, the heads of each of these smaller Bloods would leave their estates at similar times.¡±


    Wade wrinkled his nose. ¡°I have trouble tracking their carriages, unfortunately. They tend to use swiftsure horses to pull it along, and those things hate my rats for some reason. It¡¯s hard to get close. But I figured out what was happening anyway,¡± he finished, a twinkle in his eye. He held a few pieces of paper in front of me, allowing me to look them over.


    I noticed the pattern almost immediately.


    ¡°They all leave at around the same times on Tuesdays,¡± I said. And four houses matched that pattern to the letter. Blood Joan, Ilason, Farriver, and Jasper all had important members of their families leave their estates within twenty minutes of each other regularly. ¡°They¡¯re meeting up,¡± I said, coming to the logical conclusion.


    ¡±That was my guess too,¡± Wade replied. ¡°But it could¡¯ve been for any old get-together of lords. You know how they are, needing an excuse to spend their wealth and twiddle their thumbs. But Karsien pushed me to keep looking, so I managed to get a rat onto one of the carriages before the swiftsures were hooked up to them.¡±


    I raised a brow at how smug he sounded about that. ¡°Is that really such a big deal, getting a rat onto a carriage?¡± I asked, a bit amused.


    Wade gave me a suffering look over the rims of his glasses. ¡°Rats are smart, Naereni, but do you have any idea how difficult it can be to tell them to do something other than ¡®follow that person and tell me what they say as best your rodent ears can interpret?¡¯¡± The young man shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve spent less time reading an entire book than I have trying to decipher what my familiars tell me.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sure you had to be extra persuasive for your minions. Did you sacrifice any cheese to them to get them to do your bidding?¡±


    Wade looked back at the paper on the desk, then back at me. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Naereni. No matter how much cheese I give you, I¡¯m pretty sure you won¡¯t do my bidding,¡± he replied.


    Maybe if he gave you enough, a traitorous voice whispered in my mind. ¡°You haven¡¯t tried, Wade,¡± I said primly, focusing on the papers in front of us. ¡°Maybe if you give me enough food I will do what you want.¡±


    Wade coughed, a flush rising on his cheeks. I suppressed a smirk at that, the predictable reaction giving me a bit of a rush. He was easy to tease, but he wouldn¡¯t let himself get sidetracked. ¡°A-anyways, I got one of my rats into their meetings. And that was when I hit the jackpot.¡± Wade shuffled out a few more pieces of paper, once again arraying them before us. ¡°Lord Ilason, Farriver, and Jasper all spoke about the warehouses they owned with the Joans¡¯ representative, and how blithe was dropped off there periodically for the Lords to sell. After a while, I was able to pinpoint where these warehouses were from context clues in the meetings.¡±


    ¡°So you know where the blithe is stored, then,¡± I said, interest growing. ¡°All of it?¡±


    Wade looked a bit defeated. ¡°Well, all the major distribution points, yeah. There are three warehouses, one owned by each of the Joans¡¯ lackey Bloods. But the distillery, where the product is actually made? I don¡¯t know where that is. Karsien didn¡¯t say so, but I think he was trying to track that down next. He had me looking at when the crates of blithe are delivered, and my guess was he wanted to ambush one of the deliverers to learn about where he came from.¡± Wade shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard back about that.¡±


    I looked at the papers in front of me. A dozen different ideas popped into my head, all involving lots of destruction and warehouses burning to the ground. But as Karsien no doubt realized, it would be pointless if we didn¡¯t cut off the source of the drugs. I considered what I knew here.


    Then I perked up. Karsien had asked very specifically for the papers inside the warehouse¡¯s safe. Maybe¡­


    I shifted around in my dimension rune, searching for the contents of the warehouse¡¯s safe I had ransacked a couple of nights ago. Quickly finding what I needed, I withdrew the stack of papers.


    ¡°Do you think this has the info you need to track down the distillery?¡± I asked, suppressing a smile.


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    Wade scanned over the parchments. The sentry looked at each slip of paper methodically, his face visibly brightened with each word. ¡°Naereni, this is exactly what I needed!¡± he exclaimed, shuffling through each paper. Combining his disheveled appearance, two-day beard, and off-kilter glasses, he almost looked a bit maddened. ¡°The Ilasons must have expected some sort of sly maneuvering from the Joans. It lists specifically from where they got the shipment. This must¡¯ve been their insurance against any betrayal from the Joans!¡±


    I finally let my smile spread across my face.¡°You¡¯re off my shitlist for now, Wade,¡± I finally said.


    ¡°I live to serve,¡± the sentry said slyly, still shuffling through the new papers. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I bumped his shoulder with my own. ¡°Tell me about these things next time, got it? Or else no amount of cheese will make me forgive you.¡±


    Wade just laughed. I did make sure to fix that one errant lock of hair he had.


    Toren Daen


    I was watching Greahd from a rooftop, my Rat¡¯s mask on and my hood up. I had taken it upon myself to deliver the woman a few loaves of bread using money out of my pocket. She slowly pulled her wagon out into the street, laden with pots and food.


    It had snowed again yesterday, blanketing the world in a coat of white. My breath misted on the air, blowing out from under my mask. It was the last week of November, and the temperature took a bite out of each and every underdressed man.


    The little hand-pulled wagon left small wheel tracks in the snow as it rattled on, the crunch of snow beneath Greahd¡¯s boots determined and sure. Slowly, men and women began to pull themselves from their surroundings. One grizzled old man hauled himself up from where he¡¯d been curled in the fetal position, shivering all the while. I spotted another woman stumbling in the snow, struggling to keep up with the slow-moving wagon.


    A young boy, who I could see was missing a few fingers, clung to the woman¡¯s thin skirt. He was skin and bones, and I felt my throat constrict at the sight.


    ¡°These have been your first times in the slums, haven¡¯t they?¡± A voice asked from behind me.


    ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± I replied, wanting to look away from the young boy, but unable to pry my gaze away.


    ¡°You stare at them,¡± Naereni answered, moving up beside me. Wade was a step behind, rubbing his arms against the cold. ¡°That makes it obvious.¡± She paused. ¡°That kid down there had frostbite a few years ago. You can tell when they lose fingers when they¡¯re young. The hand grows weirdly.¡±


    ¡°Why is it like this here?¡± I asked. ¡°I get that some people are destitute. I know not all people are born into wealthy households, but there must be thousands of people in East Fiachra. It¡¯s as large as West Fiachra!¡± How could the city be so blind to this suffering?


    ¡°They¡¯re not mages, so they¡¯re left to rot,¡± Wade answered with an agitated huff. ¡°The Bloods ignore them, leaving them all here to wallow in their own filth. That¡¯s why they have a wall between here and North Fiachra.¡±


    I still couldn¡¯t understand it. I had grown up my entire life on the outskirts of this epidemic of poverty, and I hadn¡¯t even noticed? I asked another question. ¡°But there must be jobs for these people,¡± I said. ¡°There are roads to build, artifacts to maintain, and even manual labor to carry out. I haven¡¯t seen any of these people outside this part of East Fiachra.¡±


    Wade turned a critical eye toward me. ¡°For every one mage, there are four unadorned,¡± he started, a bite in his words. ¡°But when one mage can do the work of four people on his own? Ten? Twenty? Why hire a lowly unblooded unad? Mages get the jobs on principle, leaving these people to carve out a living alone.¡± The last part of his statement was said with subtle anger. ¡°And there¡¯s no point leaving the slums. At most stores in Fiachra, you need to prove you¡¯re a mage to buy anything. Even food.¡±


    My mind flashed back to when I bought my dagger, when the attendant had had me filter mana into her artifact to unlock the display case. And then again when I was checking out a book at the West Fiachra library, where I had to imbue the crystal with mana to create my library card.


    Ultimately, I didn¡¯t want to accept that such horrible living conditions were right next door.


    I watched as the boy with missing fingers tripped in the snow, tumbling into it in a puff of white. His mother hastily pulled him out, brushing his limbs free of white powder frantically.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for biting your head off,¡± Wade said as the silence lingered. ¡°I¨C my family still lives here. I got out when I got my mark, but my sister and my mother? They¡¯re still here, toiling through it all.¡±


    I thought of what to say. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I eventually said, knowing it wasn¡¯t enough. I thought of Norgan in the place of that young frostbitten child. ¡°I cared for my brother, too. I wouldn¡¯t have wanted him here, especially away from me.¡±


    Wade kicked at the snow in front of him, causing a puff of white to spray in the air. ¡°They¡¯re doing better, now that I¡¯m able to provide a bit for them. But the streets are still dangerous for anyone who can¡¯t defend themselves, especially unadorned women. That¡¯s why I joined the Rats. I¡¯m making East Fiachra safer, bit by bit.¡±


    ¡°A nobler goal than mine,¡± I acknowledged. My quest was fueled by righteous vengeance, but it was revenge at its core. Not nearly as pure as the simple desire to protect those you loved.


    Naereni scoffed. ¡°The Joans have what you¡¯re bringing them coming,¡± she affirmed, fixing her dark cloak in place. ¡°They¡¯re half the reason it''s so bad down here. Getting hooked on blithe breaks you inside.¡± She shivered, and not from the cold.


    The silence continued for a second longer before the Young Rat broke it. ¡°Come on, you two. You¡¯ve gotta stop moping about.¡± She peered at Greahd, who had reached the edge of the canal and was slowly setting up for the community cookfire. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea that¡¯ll cheer you both up.¡±


    ¡°What would that be?¡± I asked, a bit curious.


    She smirked under her mask, pointing to where a thin man was hauling firewood over to the pots. ¡°Don¡¯t you think that¡¯d be fun? I think we could help.¡±


    Wade wiped the fog away from his glasses with his cloak, then leaned forward, trying to get a better view. ¡°I¡¯m not sure hauling logs would be fun,¡± he muttered.


    Naereni swatted him. ¡°I meant joining in on the festivities. After we help them set up, of course!¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t go down there in the open. The Joans put a kill order out on me, remember? All their lackeys want to stick a knife in my belly.¡±


    Naereni hesitated, but it was surprisingly Wade who piped up. ¡°Just for a little bit, then? If you¡¯re in and out before anyone can report you, you¡¯d be fine. Just for one night?¡±


    I wavered, thinking up reasons I couldn¡¯t go down there. ¡°If somebody recognizes me there, won¡¯t it draw attention to Greahd? Hurt her somehow?¡±


    ¡°All those people down there showed up randomly for the food,¡± Naereni countered. ¡°Why would they guess that you¡¯re directly associated with that woman?¡±


    Well, I was directly associated with Greahd, but Naereni had a point that the automatic assumption of any spies wouldn¡¯t be that I helped set this little cookfire up, but that I was getting free food.


    I couldn¡¯t think of any more arguments off the top of my head, and Naereni knew it. She smiled, then pulled off her mask. She withdrew her cloak and mask into her dimension ring, then pulled out a few thicker, more worn coats.


    She tossed one to me, which I caught in surprise. It was brown and patchy, with a few tears across the ends, but was in one piece. The smell, however, caught me off guard.


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta fit in with the pack,¡± Naereni chirped, tossing the other coat to Wade, who barely caught it. ¡°So now you have to dress like a hobo.¡±


    I sighed.

 Chapter 35: Community

    Toren Daen


    I carefully set down the chopped log, angling it so that way it formed a small pyramid with the others. A bit of dry kindling was loosely spread underneath, the tinder serving as a place to first light the fire.


    Covertly looking around, I made sure nobody was paying too much attention to me. Then, with a flare of my mana, I flicked a single ember into the dry leaves and twigs. My spell expanded outwards slightly, the little ember embracing its new fuel. Slowly, the fire caught, licking at the larger logs. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I leaned back, satisfied with my work. I was wearing the ¡®hobo coat,¡¯ as Naereni had dubbed it, and dirtied my hair slightly to obscure its bright color. My strawberry-blonde locks stood out in the lifeless alleys of East Fiachra, after all.


    I smiled at an older man who hobbled up, a pot full of water in his hands. I offered to take it from him, considering he looked to be barely holding on, but he waved me away. The man endured longer than I expected, and soon the pot was affixed on a thin metal rod, which let it hang over the fire.


    Now all that was left was to wait for the water to boil and then the stew could be made. I spied out of the corner of my eye a few thick bones in Greahd¡¯s wagon, which would no doubt be used to make hearty bone broth. A few others chipped in miscellaneous herbs and ingredients, and soon enough a few people were rushing to set up another cooking pot. After all, there were more than enough ingredients for a single pot.


    Wade lingered near the edge of the gathering, watching with a look I couldn¡¯t decipher. He was bundled up in a similar coat as me, though I thought he stood out despite the attempt at disguising himself as a hobo.


    I meandered past a few men, who were unnervingly thin from starvation. But the gleam in their eyes as they prepared for this community pow-wow seemed to provide them with the strength a healthy body would. They were setting up short benches out of wood in a circle around the cookfires, using their scrawny arms to haul them about.


    Greahd was listening to Naereni telling an animated story, the mousy brown-haired lady nodding along with a smile as the young woman regaled her with some feat. There was a slightly pinched look in the older woman¡¯s eyes, though.


    ¡°Oh, Naereni, you know you shouldn¡¯t be running about, messing with the Bloods,¡± Greahd said. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before they try and find you here, girl. It¡¯s too dangerous for you. It told you that all the time when you were little.¡±


    Naereni sniffed, her upbeat air from her story simmering away. ¡°The Bloods look down on us, Auntie. That¡¯s why you all don¡¯t get to eat all the time, and why we have to help. And besides, they haven¡¯t caught me yet. I¡¯m fast and good at what I do.¡±


    Greahd sighed, going back to stirring a pot that was just beginning to boil. ¡°Oh, you know what I mean, girl. They¡¯ll get you one day, and I don¡¯t want to be the one to see them carting in your¨C¡±


    The woman choked off her words as she noticed me approaching. I winced, easily guessing what she was about to say.


    Carting in your corpse, I finished for her in my head. Like Norgan¡¯s.


    ¡°Oh, Toren! It¡¯s good to see you again so soon!¡± she greeted, a mask of cheer wiping away her earlier annoyance. ¡°Karsien¡¯s certainly introduced you to Naereni,¡± she said, gesturing to the person who had brought me here in the first place.


    ¡°We know each other,¡± I said with a smile. We had purposefully entered the gathering at different places to make it look like we were separate. ¡°How¡¯ve you been doing these past few days? Are you holding up in the snow?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s nothing I haven¡¯t faced before,¡± the woman said, dropping some sort of spice into the boiling brew. ¡°As long as I¡¯ve got some good, hot food, the chill will never get into my bones.¡±


    Greahd hefted a spoon, sampling a bit of the broth. It was a deep brown color, and the smell wafting off was rich and hearty. It smelt of vegetables and meat, and I suddenly remembered I hadn¡¯t had dinner yet.


    The Naereni must¡¯ve noticed the look in my eye. ¡°Auntie¡¯s been making this stew for decades now, and it¡¯s only gotten better as time¡¯s worn on. You¡¯ll leave here with a full belly.¡±


    Greahd smiled demurely, waving off Naereni¡¯s compliments.


    ¡°Auntie?¡± I asked with a raised brow. ¡°How long have you two known each other?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I raised the girl from when she was little,¡± Greahd answered. ¡°Picked her up off the streets. She¡¯s grown into a remarkable young woman, even if she lacks my common sense.¡±


    Naereni blushed. ¡°I, uh¡­ Tried to sneak into her home a decade ago. Only managed to get caught in the window. When she found me, she thought I was deserving of a good meal instead of a spanking. The rest is history.¡±


    ¡°And I haven¡¯t looked back since,¡± Greahd said proudly, tapping the ladle against the rim of her pot. A different cook was shuffling ingredients into the other cookpot, mixing them with precision for all.


    The conversation continued in a light-hearted manner for some time as the stew settled, finally mixing to fruition. All around me, the hustle and bustle increased. Men and women were starting to talk and banter loudly, the raucous noise accompanied by the wafting smell of stew. A few of them pulled out what I recognized as makeshift drums and began to tap out a tune and sing, an upbeat song I didn¡¯t recognize.


    Wade wandered over a second later, humming softly.


    ¡°Finally decided to join us?¡± Naereni asked, breaking off from sipping the stew to test its taste. ¡°It¡¯s about time, Wade! Come on, try the stew! Most people have to wait in line, but I¡¯m sure I can get you a bowl first.¡±


    The young striker latched onto Wade¡¯s arm, hauling him to the pot. He looked very very flummoxed by being dragged around by his crush, but he hid it well. I shot him a smirk and an exaggerated waggle of my eyebrows, which succeeded in making him flip me off.


    Before Wade could be introduced to the soup, the short guild receptionist blocked their path. ¡°You¡¯ll be waiting your turn, girl, just like the rest of them! I let you sample, not let your friends cut in line!¡±


    Naereni gave a very close approximation to puppy eyes, but Greahd didn¡¯t waver. The little woman was as stern as any castle guard. Naereni was banished to the back of an already forming line, several of the patrons sending good-hearted jeers their way as they went to the back.


    Only at the end did the black-haired striker release Wade¡¯s arm with a huff.


    I had been smart, in my own humble opinion. I¡¯d gotten into line just after the first couple of people had shuffled over. Soon enough, my turn to get a serving of stew came.


    A stack of wooden bowls sat beside the pot, and Greahd dutifully scooped a portion of the piping hot stew into one, before handing it to me with a smile as warm as the food I now held.


    I smiled back, then meandered to join the men who were singing in a line. I listened to the lyrics as they sang in tune with their hand drums. It was a small ballad about a pirate queen named Yorna who had ravaged the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea generations ago. It told of amazing magical exploits, wrangling mana beasts on the high seas, and devious captures of wealthy Blooded ships.


    According to the lyrics, the pirate queen had come from humble origins, an unadorned from the city of Rosaere, and had managed to wrangle her way to the top with only her wits and skill.


    It ended on a more somber note after a dedicated fleet sent by the highbloods of Aedelgard had cornered Yorna¡¯s ships. She fought a desperate last stand, every bit of her treasure sinking into the sea. I sipped my stew carefully lest the steaming liquid burn my tongue and thought about the story.


    If it had any grain of truth to it at all, it was probably heavily embellished, but there was something fascinating about the story. A nonmage pirate queen, fighting against the structure and rising above? That was inspiring and must be even more so for all those here who were stuck at the bottom.


    The tone of the gathering changed when a man stood up on his stool, declaring very loudly that everyone was to dance. While a few of the people around were hesitant, more and more took up the call as people went back to the drums.


    And as I was nearby, I wasn¡¯t able to escape being drawn in. I stumbled over my feet as the percussive music rose in volume, people¡¯s laughing voices echoing around the fires. I hastily set down my stew, vowing I would come back to it later before I was suddenly pulled into the mash of people.


    The people were doing some sort of folk dance I didn¡¯t recognize, but I got the movement down soon enough. I felt a wide smile spread across my face as I got into the rhythm, tapping my feet in time with the drums.


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    I ended up holding hands with two people on either side of me, marching in lockstep to the beat. A tall bearded man pulled me along on one side, while an older woman kept me in line from another. As the music built, I restrained the urge to laugh aloud, the free-spirited nature of this something I hadn¡¯t felt since I had arrived in this world.


    Thump, thump, stomp. Thump, thump, stomp. Thump, thump, stomp.


    We all slowly turned in a circle around the central firepit, kicking our legs out and away every now and then in a specific tune. I danced through one song, feeling a genuine smile stretch over my face as I whirled. I noticed Wade and Naereni holding hands as they, too, were spun about. I nodded to my friend, bouncing to the beat. He didn¡¯t seem to notice, too wrapped up in the eyes of his Naereni. The young striker was much the same, seeming to find something very interesting in those lashes of his.


    But as we made a full rotation around the middle, I had to extricate myself.


    I kicked up a bit of snow as I spun myself out of the group, going for my stew. As much as I enjoyed the dancing, my food was going to go cold, and the party would be waiting after I finished my food.


    My thoughts were interrupted as Greahd saddled up near me, a familiar case in her arms. She had finished her rounds of distributing soup, apparently.


    The older woman smiled as the men cheered in expectation, a couple of the drums quieting. With a shy smile, the woman unlatched the case, revealing her lute.


    It was an old thing, and the varnish had worn away years ago. The edges had notable marks from where it had been held for hours. But despite all of this, it was clearly well cared for. The strings were changed regularly whenever they wore out. My mind started automatically piecing together different songs I could play, my fingers almost unconsciously cycling through some of the chords.


    I could play the lute very well¨Cor Toren could. Toren was a talented musician, able to repeat a rhythm after only hearing it once. As Greahd began to play a slower melody accompanied by her sweet voice, I was brought back to years past.


    I remembered entering the Healer¡¯s Guild a long time ago, my violin¡¯s case firmly in my grip. I practiced in the early morning before my shifts, sitting cross-legged in a corner of the lobby and going over vibrato, trying to reliably create the pulsating rhythm I wanted.


    If my fingers only shook when I told them to, they wouldn¡¯t waver when I held a surgeon¡¯s tools. The scalpel would not slip from my fingers.


    On that particular day, Greahd had been working the front desk as usual. But what was very unusual about that day was that she had packed her own instrument. She removed herself from her chair and sat down across from me, hefting a worn lute in her hands. I remembered being very taken aback, descending from the fugue state I entered when practicing music.


    But I needn¡¯t have worried. The older woman demonstrated a mirror of the technique I was attempting on her lute, and then helped me correct the angle of my wrist. And as the year continued, whenever I needed a bit of help, the woman always lent a helping hand.


    My initial teacher for the violin was the old Daen steward, Arlen. But he had died years before, leaving my knowledge and expertise incomplete. Without Greahd¡¯s guidance, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to reach the mastery I had.


    I drifted back to the present as Greahd finished her song, the final plucked note signaling the end. I smiled slightly, clapping along with the rest of the men who had left the dancing circle. I noticed Naereni and Wade together near the edge, their hands still clasped together after their dance.


    Greahd turned to me, a look I couldn¡¯t decipher on her face. She held her lute in front of her, the well-worn wood reflective in the firelight. ¡°Would you like to play a song, Toren?¡±


    Those words ground my happier feelings to a halt. I looked at the lute, remembering how I had abandoned Named Blood Daen¡¯s old clarwood violin in the depths of my apartment. Was it still there, gathering dust? The priceless heirloom had been worth far more than gold, but I had left it behind out of simple understanding.


    I couldn¡¯t make music. Not now; not with Norgan gone. Music, to me, was hope. And with my brother¡¯s death, I didn¡¯t have the fire I needed any longer. I couldn¡¯t do that. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever be able to play an instrument again.


    I swallowed heavily, my eyes on the lute. The sounds around me fell away as I stared it down, trying to think of a way to voice my thoughts. The need to do so was taken from me, however.


    Greahd¡¯s eyes widened in alarm, staring at something behind me. That caused me to snap back to reality. The fear in her face sparked a mirrored emotion in me. She opened her mouth to scream, but I was already whirling, mana pumping from my core.


    A knife was hurtling toward my throat, descending in a downward stab. With my heightened reflexes and speed, however, I was able to whip my hand in the way to intercept.


    The steel pierced my leather glove with ease, parting skin, flesh, and bone as it traveled. The point emerged from the other side, splashing me with my own hot blood.


    Sharp pain lanced from my hand, causing me to cry out in surprising agony. The man who had stabbed me was grinning wildly, his greenish-yellow spotted skin sallow in the night sky. He was missing more than a few teeth. Too late, my mana barrier flickered into place as the flow of energy caught up. Gritting my teeth, I brought my unharmed fist in a blow toward the man¡¯s belly, but the pain made me sloppy.


    My blow connected, sending the man tumbling away and clutching his gut. Unfortunately, the impact also ripped the knife from my palm, causing it to tear through my flesh on the way out.


    Fiery pain pulsed in time with my heartbeat from the hole in my hand as it gushed blood, but I had more to worry about. Adrenaline building, I spun on my feet again, sensing the obvious bloodlust of another attacker as he barrelled past Greahd, throwing her to the ground in his haste. He hefted a knife as well, raising it high with a battle cry.


    Though my wound was a constant source of pain, I powered through it as I sidestepped my second attacker, a large brute of a man with a pox-scarred face. Countering quickly, I snapped my leg up, nailing the man¡¯s arm with a crunch. He dropped his dagger with a scream, his elbow inverted at the joint.


    My knuckles ended any further sound he could make when they collided with his jaw. He crumpled in a heap, out cold and missing a few teeth.


    Naereni whizzed next to me an instant later, a small dagger of ice forming in her palm. She looked about warily, trying to see if there were any more attackers.


    Instead, the eyes of the crowd were trained on us in fear, panic growing as they backed away muttering. My hand leaked blood, a steady drip drip drip staining the snow pink that seemed to echo for a mile. The pain was fading under my adrenaline, and I knew I must look wild as I scanned the people in front of me.


    ¡°So nice to see you here,¡± I said to Naereni. ¡°Strange coincidence, that is.¡±


    The girl ignored my quip once she realized nobody else was going to attack me, instead sparing a glance at my hand.


    ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns,¡± she cursed. ¡°Toren, your hand! You need to see a healer!¡±


    I could see the snow through the hole in my palm, but I could already feel mana spiraling across to patch over the wound. Also, the knife had narrowly missed the bone. My healing factor would save me here.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve had worse. Check on Greahd. That thug threw her to the ground, but I didn¡¯t get a look at her after.¡±


    To prove my point, I withdrew a long roll of bandages from my dimension ring. After the number of times I¡¯d nearly been disemboweled in the Clarwood Forest, I¡¯d started carrying them around on principle.


    I could see the conflict warring in Naereni¡¯s eyes, but eventually, her love for her foster mother wore out. She turned around, beelining for Greahd, who was still on the hard ground.


    ¡°Toren Daen!¡± a ragged voice called from behind me. The men and women who had gathered to dance, enjoy themselves, and rekindle the hope in their lives gasped in horror at whatever they saw behind me. ¡°Come here! Let me bleed you!¡±


    I turned around again, the bandages quickly forgotten. Ten feet away was the man who had stabbed a hole through my hand, standing on wobbly legs. He had reclaimed his knife.


    I froze still, shock rolling over me. The man wasn¡¯t aiming his blade at me. No, in front of him was the young boy missing fingers I had spied earlier. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at me. I heard his mother cry out in terror behind me, the calls of ¡°My baby!¡± ringing in my ears.


    The thug held his blade to the shivering child¡¯s throat, a mad grin on his face. The deadly sharp weapon hadn¡¯t drawn blood, but I could see the pressure. If he pressed a little more¡­


    ¡°Surrender yourself to me, Daen!¡± the man cried. ¡°Or the kid gets it! Come on!¡±


    I stood there, frozen stiff, my mind zipping through a thousand different ideas. Unfortunately, the man didn¡¯t give me time to think.


    ¡°Hands in the air, Daen!¡±


    Haltingly, I complied, raising my bloodied hands above my head. The crackle of the fire behind me was all that could accompany my heart, which thumped loudly in my chest.


    ¡°One wrong move,¡± the man said, flexing his grip on his dagger. ¡°And I slide this knife right across this little boy¡¯s throat. Do you want that?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said quickly, gesturing with my hands. ¡°Just put the knife down. I¡¯ll come with¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop moving!¡± the hostage taker yelled, his voice raising in pitch. His greenish-yellow skin morphed as he screamed, taking on a horrifying tone. His hood had been up earlier when he ambushed me, but now that it was down I could see he had patchy brown hair. ¡°No, no. Come here. I need to drive this knife into your heart, Daen! If you do¡­¡±


    The man licked his lips.


    I locked eyes with the child, trying to convey as much of my confidence as possible.


    You¡¯re going to be fine, I tried to say to him as I inched forward. You¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m going to help.


    ¡°Faster!¡± The man said, causing me to shuffle forward. He wasn¡¯t giving me time to think of a plan. His eyes flicked to somebody behind me. ¡°Stay still, woman! Move and I¡¯ll cut his throat!¡± he called, repeating his threat.


    Naereni halted behind me.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to do anything,¡± I said calmly, drawing the insane blithehead¡¯s attention. ¡°What do you think the Joans can do for you, for you to attack a mage?¡±


    The man was clearly a nonmage, and in combat between a mage and an unad? I would always triumph. But I had to keep his focus on me.


    ¡°Quiet!¡± the man screamed, deranged in every sense of the word. ¡°You don¡¯t get to speak!¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± I said, my sense of calm returning in spades as a plan solidified. ¡°What do you think taking a child hostage will do? Just cause me to give myself up? Would you let yourself die if threatened with a boy¡¯s life?¡±


    I heard the mother whimpering behind me and truly didn¡¯t know the answer regarding myself. But this thug? My words made him hesitate, his grip loosening slightly on his knife as a strange expression crossed his face. Would I let him kill me, just because of a random boy? He didn¡¯t know.


    Then the grunt banished whatever common sense he had, moving the knife from the boy¡¯s neck to point at me. ¡°You can¡¯t trick me, mage! The Joans promised me! They did!¡±


    But that brief distraction was all that was needed to turn the tide. The thug never saw Wade sneaking up behind him, even when the rock the sentry swung impacted the back of his skull.

 Chapter 36: Incentive

    Toren Daen


    The thug reeled to the side, a streak of crimson blood spraying out from where Wade had clocked him. The knife he held toward me slipped from his suddenly weak fingers, falling in slow motion to the snow below.


    Before it could even hit the ground, I slammed the full force of my telekinesis into the earth behind me. I rocketed forward in a flare of white, the power of my push blowing a curtain of snow in my wake.


    I reached out with my hand, latching onto the collar of the thug¡¯s grimy tunic before he could even blink. He flailed in confusion, his head wound disorienting his balance.


    I wasn¡¯t about to make that any easier. I turned, using the momentum from my forward rush and a twist of my shoulder to slam the man into the ground hard. He bounced off the stone, the sickening crack of something breaking from the impact echoing into the quiet night. My firm grip on his throat shoved him back into the indent he¡¯d made in the snow.


    I drew my dagger with my wounded left hand, wincing at the pain of clenching my fist around its hilt. I knelt over the downed man, one hand on his throat and another with a dagger poised over his eye. My knee locked his chest and arm firmly in place, and with my enhanced strength I knew he wasn¡¯t going anywhere.


    The thug gasped for breath, a wheezing, rickety sound, then groaned in pain. A speck of blood spattered from his mouth as he coughed, hacking for air.


    I might¡¯ve damaged one of his lungs with how hard I threw this druggie into the dirt. I could¡¯ve broken his spine.


    I didn¡¯t care.


    I spared a quick glance at my surroundings, unwilling to let myself be caught off guard again. Wade was ferrying the young boy over to his mother, who was completely focused on her child. Naereni was still tending to Greahd. Whatever the other thug had done had clearly hurt the woman somehow.


    That only stoked my anger higher, matching the heat of the cookfires around me.


    ¡°How did you find me so fast?¡± I hissed to the man I had pinned.


    The man¡¯s vision cleared for a moment, but he looked at my poised dagger with a terrified expression. He whimpered underneath me, wriggling slightly before I pressed my knee harder onto his chest.


    Considering what I felt give way under the pressure, I knew I had broken a few of his ribs. He wailed in pain, and I immediately let off.


    ¡°Look,¡± I whispered lowly. ¡°I don¡¯t need to kill you. You don¡¯t need to be in pain for too long. But you are going to tell me how you found me.¡±


    I had only been visible for less than half an hour. The fact that this man attacked me so quickly told me that Blood Joan had a better network in East Fiachra than I was led to believe.


    ¡°Don¡¯t kill me, man! It wasn¡¯t personal! I know what I said, but I take it back! Please!¡±


    I grit my teeth, my patience wearing thin quickly. I hissed, snapping the next words. ¡°Tell me!¡±


    My blade, hovering just over his eye, began to drip with blood. The wound on my hand was still leaking, and the stream had slowly meandered down my glittering steel. My blood slowly fell from the tip of my blade, dripping just under the thug¡¯s eye.


    ¡°I just saw you dancing around!¡± He whimpered between gasps of pain. I could distinctly smell the stench of urine from the man, whatever motley courage he¡¯d plucked up gone with the wind. ¡°It was an accident! They promised me!¡±


    Drip, drip, drip. The blood ran down my knife, my grip quivering as I held it over his face. Does your hand shake from the pain, or making the threat? A voice inside me asked. I forcefully suppressed it, knowing I couldn¡¯t afford introspection right now The man kept saying they¡¯d ¡®promised him.¡¯ What was he talking about?


    ¡°What did the Joans promise you?¡± I said, leaning over. My breath fogged in the night air, lending a supernatural chill to my tone.


    ¡°They said they¡¯d supply my fix for the rest of my life!¡± He cried, beginning to openly weep. ¡°If I killed you! They¡¯d give me enough blithe to drown in!¡±


    I blinked, taken aback by the statement. But another matter took my attention away from the thug.


    I felt an urgent hand on my shoulder shaking me. Wade was there, but he wasn¡¯t looking at me. He was nervously scanning the crowd around him, which had been watching with silent fear for the last minute of interrogation.


    ¡°What?¡± I snapped, angry at having the one blissful moment I had experienced in this world shattered. I remembered that dance, where I held hands with these people. It brought the closest thing I¡¯d felt to happiness since coming to this world.


    My anger shifted to anxiety as I took in the people around us again. Where before they all watched with pure fear, now there was a hint of hunger in many of their eyes.


    ¡®They¡¯d give me enough blithe to drown in,¡¯ the man said. How many of the people surrounding me were blithe addicts? And how willing were they to attack an armed mage?


    I saw it there, in many of their eyes. It wasn¡¯t the hunger of a predator stalking his prey. No, this was the ravenous gleam of a man who had been starving for weeks and was ready to take desperate measures for a meal.


    Some of the other people were backing away, clearly recognizing danger when they saw it. A few young women were moving Greahd to her wagon, taking chance glances behind me. The mother with her son was among them, a worried look on her face. Naereni was still with them, but it looked like she was ready to cut her way through the people surrounding me.


    I slowly stood, peering around me. I could get out of this, but Wade couldn¡¯t. He had no physical enhancement runes to speak of, and I highly doubted a small mob after blithe would be selective in their mage targets.


    I kicked the man below me one final time in the ribs for good measure, leaving him to groan in pain. Then I squared my shoulders, staring cooly at the men that surrounded us. Maybe around ten people seemed interested in whatever deal the Joans offered the man whimpering at my feet. Twice that number was backing away with increased haste, showing good sense.


    I could take ten nonmages. I could do that easily. But could I do it protecting Wade? Without lethal force?


    ¡°Toren¡­¡± Wade said nervously, shuffling on his feet.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± I said quietly. ¡°We¡¯ll get out of this.¡±


    I cracked my neck, then reoriented my dagger. The blood leaking from my hand was coating it now. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this,¡± I said, distorting my voice with sound magic. It took on an unnatural quality, resonating strangely and breaking every few syllables into different octaves.


    If there was something I knew inspired fear, it was the uncanny valley. And what I just did to my voice sank into the deepest depths of that trench. Wade flinched away from me, clearly taken aback by the shift in tone.


    ¡°Maybe we do,¡± one man said from the side. I oriented on him slowly, causing the man to shrink under my attention. ¡°Don¡¯t know until we hear what that bloke has to say,¡± he finished meekly, but speaking up seemed to instill courage into the men around him.


    It was time to stomp out that bravery.


    Fireballs slowly popped into existence around me, one after the other. There were ten men, and so ten flickering orbs of flame orbited me and Wade in a small radius. The men around us flinched back.


    I stepped forward, capitalizing on the withdrawal. Wade, thankfully, had started to figure out my plan, and trailed behind me silently.


    Drip, drip, drip. My blood leaked into the snow.


    As the fireballs trailed around my head, I walked forward without a trace of the hesitance and nerves I felt inside. I flared my killing intent, pressing down on the people around me. The men parted in front of me, my show of power and flex of intent breaking their resolve.


    Naereni fell in lockstep behind me, following me as I slowly left the community bonfires. The weight of their stares¨Csome hostile, some fearful, none sympathetic¨Crested on my shoulders like a mantle of steel, the emotions potent even from far away. I kept the fireballs hovering around me for a minute or two, then extinguished them when we were out of sight.


    The three of us ducked into an alleyway, and the young ice caster quickly checked our rears. It didn¡¯t look like anybody had followed us.


    ¡°What in the Vritra¡¯s name happened?¡± Naereni asked, a look of anger on her face. Her black hair had managed to escape its short braid, and she had to fight it back behind her ears. ¡°Why were they all looking like you were meat and they were carallians that had just spawned in a zone?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear the mook?¡± I asked, my look hollow.


    ¡°I was busy setting Greahd¡¯s shoulder. When that one brute pushed her to the ground, she landed on it wrong. It was dislocated. I didn¡¯t hear what the man had to say.¡±


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    I sighed, massaging my eyes and the bridge of my nose. ¡°He said¡­ he said that Blood Joan promised him a lifetime supply of blithe if he killed me. A bunch of the men found that offer interesting.¡±


    I could visibly see the pain in Naereni¡¯s face as she heard what I had to say. She wilted, like a flower that was left too long in the cold. ¡°They turned on you so fast,¡± she said sadly.


    I closed my eyes. They had turned on me remarkably fast. I knew, at least intellectually, what addiction could do to a person. To their principles and morals. But to witness it firsthand; to be on the receiving end of such reversed personalities?


    I had danced with a few of those men not five minutes before, laughing along as others played the drums. And how quickly had they been ready to spill my blood?


    ¡°I joined the Rats because I wanted this to change,¡± Naereni said, a forlorn look on her face. ¡°I was the one who convinced Greahd to start sharing her cooking around; gathering people to play music and dance. If we were a community, the drugs wouldn¡¯t rip them apart anymore.¡±


    She blinked back wetness around her eyes. ¡°But it¡¯s still the same.¡±


    Wade rested a comforting hand on Naereni¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not the same, Naereni. I grew up here. It was so, so much worse before this. You know that. This is just a setback, yeah? And we¡¯re going to take down the Joans soon, too. We know where everything¡¯s made: they won¡¯t be able to do this to us again.¡±


    I was bandaging my hand¨Cfinally¨Cwhen I caught on to the words Wade said. ¡°You¡¯re going to attack the Joans soon?¡± I asked, pausing mid-wrap. ¡°That sounds a lot more definitive than what Karsien was hinting at.¡±


    Wade looked a bit sheepish, adjusting his glasses. ¡°Well, see, the thing is that Karsien doesn¡¯t know we know where all the warehouses and the distillery are. But what he knows can¡¯t hurt him,¡± the young sentry said.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell him right before our operation,¡± Naereni said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to leave him in the dark indefinitely. Not like he did to me.¡± She turned to me. ¡°I¨C I wasn¡¯t so sure about you before this, Toren. You¡¯re going to leave once the Joans are dealt with, so I didn¡¯t see why I should trust you.¡±


    I held back a frown. I could see her point. I wasn¡¯t exactly planning on staying with this crew. It didn¡¯t build the best sense of camaraderie when you knew one of your teammates was only staying with you as a means to an end.


    ¡°And I didn¡¯t like how quickly Karsien let you in. But,¡± Naereni continued, ¡°You¡¯re not so bad, Toren. Standing up to that thug holding the boy hostage showed me that. You¡¯re not like every other Blood around here, even if you technically are one. I¡¯m... I¡¯m sorry for doubting you.¡±


    I flashed back to when that man had held the boy hostage. I had trouble thinking; moving and acting only on instinct.


    I finished tying off my bandage, making sure it was secure. ¡±Apology accepted,¡± I replied. ¡°I get why you¡¯d be wary of me. But I do think what you¡¯re doing is good.¡±


    I didn¡¯t like being doubted, but it was the logical feeling, in my opinion.


    ¡°That being said,¡± Naereni began again, emboldened by my acceptance. ¡°We¨CWade and I¨Care planning to hit the Joans where it hurts: in their drug distillery and all the warehouses where they have stock. Before, I was the only striker who could actually infiltrate. But with you on board, our chances of success double. At least.¡±


    I remembered the desperation I saw in those blithe addict¡¯s eyes as they surrounded me, like starving animals getting a whiff of food.


    Part of my mind hadn¡¯t viewed them as human. At that moment, they were beasts, just like any other in the Clarwood Forest. And I had treated them as such, warding them off with fire as a caveman did a wolf.


    My gut was a mix of negative emotions regarding that, and I didn¡¯t know which was most prominent. Disgust at myself for seeing those people as less than human. Pain at being so quickly turned on, the smallest sense of bliss I had experienced since coming to this world tainted by betrayal. And anger at the Joans for putting the men in such a desperate state of mind.


    I would focus on that anger. Center myself with it.


    It didn¡¯t take much time for me to consider the offer. ¡°I¡¯m in,¡± I said. I couldn¡¯t refuse. ¡°It¡¯ll be good to give Blood Joan a black eye again, and even better to do some good at the same time.¡±


    Naereni beamed, rounding on Wade. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s one recruited. Do you think we¡¯ve got better chances now?¡±


    Wade sighed. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I still say we need at least one more mage for this, though.¡±


    Naereni began to scale a nearby building rooftop in quick hops, bounding up the side using ice daggers as makeshift picks. ¡°We won¡¯t need another mage if I¡¯m there! I can get in and out of anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Except your own messes,¡± Wade muttered.


    I wall-jumped up the alley after the ice striker. It was a precautionary measure: we left footprints that were easy to track on the ground, so the Rats preferred the rooftops.


    Unfortunately, Wade had to use the stairs.


    ¡ª


    A couple of hours later, I was carefully sifting through a small pile of books. My room was lit by a low lamp, fending off the dark. I could only hope it would be enough to read by.


    The book that looked the most interesting to me, at least off the top of the pile, was Treatise on the Four Elements of Mana in Relation to their Natural Counterparts, by Professor Frontfrost. I had asked Wade for a book on mana theory, as grounding my knowledge in familiar concepts would help me in every aspect of control, even if my teacher was an asura.


    Furthermore, I enjoyed using my magic. The rush of mana flooding my mana veins, of the power and freedom it granted me, was something I wanted to hone even further. So I did one of the things I knew best: I read a book.


    It seemed I would be learning which came first: the element or the mana affinity. There has to be some sort of philosophical debate about that, I thought again.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision, revealing Lady Dawn peering at the titles laid out on the table. Her hands were clasped behind her back, but she looked over the books.


    One was called Aldoreth¡¯s Encyclopedia of Stars, and had a nice, leather-bound cover. It was clearly an old tome, as the paper was yellowing and worn. The title was inscribed in silverish ink over the front, seeming to shimmer like the book¡¯s namesake in the sky.


    Another was Catalogue of the Constellations¡¯ Movement Across Alacrya, which wasn¡¯t quite as high quality as the previous tome. Nonetheless, I hoped the asura would enjoy it.


    Lady Dawn had left it up to me to guess what books I should rent for her, and I had taken a gamble on stars. She didn¡¯t look angry, which I thought was a point in my favor.


    The phoenix pointed a delicate finger at the encyclopedia of stars. She hesitated, but only for a moment. ¡°Contractor, I would like this book set up for me.¡±


    Interesting way to ask for help, I mused internally. I did so anyways, gingerly avoiding jostling my hand. It hurt, but even a couple hours in I could notice some of the healing.


    As I propped the book up nearby, keeping it close for whenever I needed to turn a page for my feathered companion, I spared another look at my wounded hand. It would probably take a couple of days to fully heal, as opposed to the many weeks it would have otherwise required.


    I remembered how the dagger went through my hand. My mana veins were more prominent than my mana channels, so it took more time than I¡¯d like to direct mana from my core to the rest of my body. That was why I hadn¡¯t created a mana shroud in time to deflect the blow.


    Though I had a minor healing factor since coming to this world, I had always assumed it was a part of Lady Dawn¡¯s soul latching onto mine, or whatever had happened to reincarnate me. But as I learned more about magic, I realized how rare healing of the strength I had actually was. Furthermore, I had the healing before I had formed my Bond with Lady Dawn.


    I still felt her presence in the back of my mind, always there but never listening. It was a strange aspect of our connection that I felt nervous to even think about, but now I was considering all I knew.


    ¡°Lady Dawn,¡± I started. ¡°I heal really, really fast. I always thought that was because of our connection, but that¡¯s starting to make less sense to me.¡± I paused. ¡°Am I mistaken, or?¡±


    Lady Dawn turned to me from the page she had been scanning over. She considered me for a brief moment, her eyes catching on my wounded hand for a moment. ¡°You are correct in your assumptions, Contractor, though only partially.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°Partially how? I mean, which part am I wrong about?¡±


    The phoenix¡¯s shade tilted her head. ¡°Not wrong, just¡­ lacking information. Our initial connection caused your ability to heal to manifest, as it did not exist before. My presence in your core brought¡­ latent ancestry to the surface, though not fully.¡±


    I blinked, quickly realizing what she was implying. ¡°Wait, do I have the blood of the djinn in me?¡±


    The djinn were the ancient mages who had set up the Relictombs across Alacrya, as well as the flying city of Xyrus and Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. In Dicathen, latent djinni heritage manifested as emitters, which were dedicated healers that could influence vivum aether with their mana, allowing for potent healing spells.


    ¡°Not of the djinn,¡± Lady Dawn replied cooly.


    My brain stuttered on that. If not the djinn, then what else? The words of the phoenix implied I was on the right track, but what else¡­?


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, finally putting two and two together. ¡°I¡¯ve manifested Vritra blood.¡±


    That was the conclusion I came to, but it quickly faltered as I considered reality. But that didn¡¯t make sense either. I didn¡¯t have any horns or notable basilisk features and was sure I didn¡¯t have an affinity for any of the Vritra¡¯s deviant forms of mana.


    ¡°Still only partially correct, Contractor,¡± the phoenix replied. ¡°Most mages on this continent have very, very trace amounts of slumbering Vritra heritage in their Blood. That is why your mages are born with your cores, after all.¡±


    ¡°So, I had a Vritra parent somewhere, far up my bloodline?¡± I asked, trying to comprehend.


    The phoenix nodded. ¡°Your latent asuran heritage was not truly manifested. It is akin to a slumbering beast, one that sleeps for decades at a time. My intrusion upon your body caused the beast to stir. It flicked its tail. Opened one eye. And then it went back to sleep.¡±


    I frowned, not quite understanding. ¡°So, it¡¯s a partial manifestation?¡±


    The asura sighed. ¡°If that is what allows your mind to comprehend it. Your healing is accelerated as a result. But the beast has awoken once, and its slumber is lighter than what it once was. There is no telling what may probe it from its rest once more.¡±


    ¡°You speak as if this is a bad thing,¡± I said, confused. ¡°If I manifest Vritra blood, that¡¯s just more power to accomplish both of our goals. All the better, right?¡±


    The phoenix looked at me with disappointment. ¡°And call attention to yourself from mages within Taegrin Caelum, who may wish to experiment upon you to draw that blood out even further? You would be pulled into Agrona¡¯s crosshairs, under his sights. And you do not wish for that.¡±


    I deflated. Yeah, she raised a good point about that. It wasn¡¯t easy to hide Vritra blood manifesting, and it was a death sentence by law to assist someone in doing so.


    ¡°And even further¡­¡± Lady Dawn continued, turning back to her book. I was certain she wasn¡¯t actually reading the words on the page now. ¡°The phoenix and the basilisk are fundamentally opposed. It is the nature of things, from the depths of our mana arts to the intricacies of our cultures. I do not know how a full manifestation of Vritra blood will react to my presence.¡± The asura looked at me again. ¡°This is new for me as well, Contractor. I do not know what will come of this.¡±


    I was left with those thoughts to ponder as the night wore on, only the flipping of pages to break the silence. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 37: Confrontation

    Naereni


    I shuffled nervously in front of the entrance to Karsien¡¯s room in the Cistern. It had been a while since we had spoken to each other, the secrets he had kept from me looming between us like a chasm.


    But I had to talk to him now. Considering what I had planned, there was no way to keep it secret. Furthermore, if I kept what I was planning to do secret from my leader, I¡¯d be doing the exact same thing to him that he did to me.


    I knocked on the wooden door, and then waited.


    And waited. And waited. I knew the man was in there, but after a minute of staring at the oak panels, I was starting to feel discouraged.


    When I was about ready to leave, a bit of irritation bouncing around in my mind at being ignored, I heard the telltale voice of Karsien calling out.


    ¡°Come in, Naereni,¡± he called.


    Steeling myself, I swiveled back on my heel and opened the door. The inside of Karsien¡¯s room was surprisingly gaudy for the thief. Little trinkets were displayed here and there, small prizes taken from our targets. A dartboard was hung next to the door, with several darts stuck around the bullseye.


    Karsien himself lounged on a small cushioned chair, a few darts set nearby. He had probably been throwing them before I came in.


    We faced off for a moment, an undercurrent of emotion traveling between us. He had his mask on: he rarely took it off, unlike the rest of the crew. He seemed unperturbed by my interruption, but I thought I knew him well enough to sense some uncertainty.


    ¡°I came here to tell you that I¡¯ll be going out on a mission soon,¡± I said, mustering my courage.


    Karsien didn¡¯t react, at least not outwardly. ¡°I did not assign you any mission,¡± he replied.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you claim to be going on one?¡±


    ¡°I decided to on my own.¡±


    Karsien shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He scrutinized me from afar. ¡°You haven¡¯t ever gone out on your own before,¡± he said. ¡°Is this some sort of attempt at rebellion? Trying to get back at me for perceived injustice?¡± There was a bit of condescension in the last question.


    He phrased it like I was a child, lashing out at my parents because I didn¡¯t understand why they kept the cookies away from them. I felt anger pulse in my head at that.


    I was not a little girl.


    ¡°No, it is not,¡± I said irritably. ¡°I¡¯m going to do something good for East Fiachra, instead of waiting around for pieces to fall into place. I¡¯m going to make a difference. A permanent one, instead of just inflating a sinking ship with air.¡±


    Karsien was silent for a moment. ¡°So you located the distillery, then? You plan to destroy it, and cut off the production of blithe to East Fiachra?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, pulling myself up a bit straighter.


    ¡°I assume you¡¯re not alone in this. And you¡¯ve planned all of this out? Every contingency, every possible point of failure?¡±


    ¡°We have,¡± I asserted. ¡°We¡¯re going to hit every warehouse and the distillery, all in one night. We won¡¯t give the Joans a chance to recover or react.¡±


    Karsien finally stood up, his cloak unfurling behind him. He walked toward me, a relaxed gait measuring his steps. I took an involuntary step back, but the man simply went to the dart board. He retrieved each of his darts, one by one.


    He inspected the darts carefully. ¡°No, you haven¡¯t. It is clear from how you speak. What will you do if one of your members fails to complete their target? I assume you¡¯ll be splitting up, trying to hit multiple targets at once. That¡¯s that many many more places where your enemies can take you down.¡±


    I felt my face flush slightly. ¡°We¡¯ll use Wade¡¯s sentry abilities to make infiltration to the warehouses simple. Their security is lax enough for us to make it through, and I have no doubt Toren and I will be able to burn those buildings to the ground in record time. In and out, quick as lightning.¡±


    ¡°Toren is joining you?¡± Karsien asked, a hint of something I didn¡¯t recognize in his voice. He turned to me, easily standing a head taller.


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°He is. He sees the need to act, too.¡±


    Karsien inspected the dart in his hand. ¡°You¡¯ll fail if you try this,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe you can destroy one warehouse. Maybe two. But the distillery will be guarded by the best the Joans have to offer. They¡¯ll see you coming from a mile away, and it won¡¯t be weak mages guarding it like the warehouses. They¡¯ll have their best.¡±


    I ground my teeth. ¡°We won¡¯t fail,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m strong enough to¨C¡±


    ¡°Your strength is irrelevant,¡± Karsien cut across my words coldly. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Naereni. You haven¡¯t fought many mages. But in an isolated space like this distillery? You¡¯ll be cut to pieces. Your plan will fail.¡±


    I felt my anger eclipse my good sense. ¡°And what have you done to help me learn to plan?¡± I spit out. ¡°All I do is follow your orders, going wherever you point like a lackey instead of a student. If you think my plans will fail, you only have yourself to blame!¡±


    I immediately regretted my outburst. I was proving Karsien right, then. I sounded like a child, angry at her parents for actions they didn¡¯t understand.


    No, I reminded myself. Your anger is justified. It¡¯s not childish.


    ¡°And that is why I¡¯ll be helping your plan from now on,¡± Karsien replied cooly, setting the dart down on a nearby table.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I replied, still wary. ¡°Are you going to take over again, and push me to the side?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Karsien said. He turned away from me, looking at the chair he had recently vacated. ¡°You¡¯re right, Naereni. I haven¡¯t been teaching you. I have kept you in your nest, unwilling to let you fly.¡±


    I took a step back. Karsien, admitting he was wrong? I¨C I didn¡¯t know how to react to that.


    ¡°I¡¯ll help you with your plan,¡± he said again. ¡°I will work with you to iron out any shortcomings.¡± He turned back to me. ¡°And we¡¯ll finish this dance together.¡±


    Toren Daen


    Knocking on my door pulled me blearily from my sleep. I rolled off my cot, falling with a thump to the floor.


    Ow.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I said groggily. I scrambled with my limbs to try and push myself up, jostling my hand in the process.


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    ¡°We¡¯re gonna have a team meeting in about half an hour,¡± Wade said from outside my door. ¡°Just thought I should let you know.¡±


    I blinked the sleep from my eyes. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ thanks.¡± My mind wasn¡¯t really functioning just yet. I contemplated just staying on the floor, but finally convinced myself I needed to get ready.


    I had stayed up very late last night, completing that evening¡¯s assimilation process and working through some of my combat forms. It had been a while since I practiced those, and after the events of last night, I needed to work through some pent-up stress. I also further practiced the use of my telekinesis crest, fine-tuning the control of my pushes and pulls. There was something about the way the mana interacted in my telekinesis that was causing an itch in my subconscious, but I wouldn¡¯t be able to look into it until I was clean.


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    My strawberry-blonde hair had a layer of grease in it that I was determined to wash out, and I needed to change the bandages on my hand. Once again, I could feel a bit of mana buildup in the hand. The wound didn¡¯t hurt as much as it did yesterday, but my constant use of mana over the course of the night had certainly hampered my healing.


    It was with trudging steps that I pulled myself into the Cistern¡¯s shower. It wasn¡¯t too dissimilar to the showers from my previous life, though the setup was clearly jury-rigged down here. As the warm water washed over my body, I used the calm the heat brought me to look into my mana core.


    There were cracks running along the surface of my light orange core, a network of slivers that shone yellow underneath. I was exceptionally close to the dark yellow stage of core development, which caused my heart to do a little flip of joy inside.


    Once I was washed up, I put on a dark long-sleeve shirt and gingerly pulled on my gloves. At this point, I realized I could probably trust the Company of the Rat to see the red tattoo of chains snaked from my palm to my sternum, but covering it up was becoming second nature. I was hiding a lot of things from them anyway.


    When I left my room, I was surprised to see the entire company sitting around the planning table. Especially Karsien. I hadn¡¯t seen the man for a few days since the blowout between him and Naereni, but now they were standing together.


    I blinked, making sure this wasn¡¯t a figment of my tired mind. He really was there, going over a few papers with Naereni.


    Wade peeked up from nearby, a rat on his shoulders. ¡°Ah, Toren! Good to see you¡¯re awake!¡±


    I smiled slightly. ¡°I would¡¯ve rather you let me sleep,¡± I admonished, then scanned the rest of the gathered Rats. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    Wade shifted slightly. ¡°Well, Naereni went to Karsien to tell him that she was going to go and destroy the Joans¡¯ distillery. And, uh¡­ Karsien said he would help.¡±


    ¡°How did that happen?¡±


    Wade just shrugged, a look on his face that said he didn¡¯t know either.


    Naereni noticed me a second later, a slight smile on her face. She seemed a bit unsure to me, but that was smoothed over quickly. ¡°Toren! Is everyone here, then?¡±


    She scanned around surreptitiously. I sat at attention along with Wade, while Hofal was smoking a cigar nearby.


    Karsien took a subtle step back, allowing Naereni to be the full focus of attention.


    ¡°Okay. This meeting was called to discuss a final attack against Blood Joan¡¯s blithe operations in East Fiachra.¡± The young striker conjured a long stick of ice, using it to point at several places marked on the Fiachra map behind her. ¡°There are three warehouses that hold blithe around the northernmost parts of East Fiachra. They aren¡¯t directly operated by the Joans themselves, but Bloods Ilason, Farriver, and Jasper.¡±


    A couple of the warehouses were in South Fiachra, and I recognized the one from Blood Ilason. The last was along the border of East and North Fiachra.


    ¡°But the largest problem is the distillery itself, where the blithe is produced.¡± Naereni whapped another point on the map, this time in North Fiachra. ¡°This is where the Joans make their death drug in secret, then ship it to the warehouses for distribution across East Fiachra. They¡¯ve gone to great lengths trying to hide its location from all prying eyes, including keeping most records of it off the books and trying to obscure it from everyone, even the Supervisory offices.¡±


    Naereni continued to rattle off a few more ways that the Joans had used to try and hide the location of their offices, some of which got pretty convoluted. I was surprised Wade had managed to even discover the location at all.


    I raised my hand, and Naereni pointed at me with her stick. ¡°Why are the Joans trying to keep the production of blithe secret?¡± I asked. ¡°This seems a little excessive to me if they¡¯re just trying to hide the location from us.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not trying to hide the location from just us, but everybody,¡± Naereni replied promptly. ¡°Blithe production is barely legal, and from what Wade told me, is especially difficult to make here in Sehz-Clar. Scythe Seris Vritra takes special offense to the drugs, so it''s rare that it''s actually produced in the Dominion instead of smuggled in. She¡¯s made it very clear that anybody who makes it will be on her shitlist.¡±


    Scythe Seris herself didn¡¯t like the production of blithe? That was an interesting tidbit of info.


    Wade piped up after that. ¡°That¡¯s why it took so long to put some of the pieces together. For most of my life, any blithe in Fiachra was smuggled in instead of produced locally. I knew the Joans were involved in distribution very early on, but it''s very, very bold for any Blood to actually produce the drug themselves instead of smuggling it. And I think they only started into the business more recently.¡±


    I was left to stew on these revelations as Naereni continued her speech. ¡°But we¡¯re not going to let them do this anymore,¡± the young leader said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a plan to take all of these places down, and we¡¯re going to do it in a way that can¡¯t be ignored.¡±


    And as Naereni began to lay out her plans, with periodic input from Wade and Karsien, I began to grin.


    If their ideas worked, then the ruckus it would cause would be unavoidable. Karsien brought up the very real problem that just because Blood Joan¡¯s distillery was destroyed didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t simply make another one right after. While I wasn¡¯t sure they could¨CI remembered Aban¡¯s words about how Blood Joan was struggling financially somehow¨Cit wasn¡¯t just about the Joans. Any other Blood could swoop in and pick up where they left off.


    And that¡¯s where Karsien¡¯s prints on the plans showed. The takedown needed to be flashy and gaudy, drawing eyes from every power in the city, and maybe even from beyond. The destruction needed to be painfully visible, to send a message to all who might try and step up afterward.


    And I knew that a blow like this would guarantee the fall of Blood Joan. If they were caught producing blithe?


    They would never recover.


    ¡ª


    Several hours later, I was walking with Karsien through Greahd¡¯s apartment building. He primly knocked on her door, his mask well in place.


    I was wearing my own Rat¡¯s mask as well. This time when approaching the building, I couldn¡¯t take the streets. Being attacked last night served as a brutal wake-up call. If any drug-addled fool would try and assassinate me because of empty promises from Blood Joan, I couldn¡¯t show my face on the ground.


    So Karsien and I kept to the rooftops, bounding across and trying to stay covert. The snow was melting, making every step dangerous under the slippery conditions, but we made it all the same.


    ¡°Can she really help us?¡± I asked Karsien nervously. ¡±You said her powers as an instiller would be able to give us an edge, but you didn¡¯t tell me what.¡±


    Truthfully, I didn¡¯t doubt that the woman could help in some way. I just didn¡¯t want her to see me.


    ¡°Greahd possesses a very unique crest,¡± Karsien said, staring straight ahead. ¡°It has proven immeasurably helpful many times before, but now more than ever we¡¯ll need it.¡±


    I shuffled nervously, but the door opened before I could ask another stalling question. Greahd was there, her brown hair no longer in a bun. Her arm¨Cthe one she had landed on when the thug pushed her down yesterday¨Cwas in a sling. Naereni had told me she¡¯d dislocated it.


    The woman¡¯s eyes took us in quickly. And though I was expecting it, the disappointment that radiated from her eyes when they landed on my mask still felt like a punch to the gut.


    She looked between us. ¡°No,¡± she said aloud. ¡°No, I won¡¯t help you. Not this time. I asked you not to. I begged you to protect him. Not this.¡±


    I tensed. Wade had told me that Greahd had asked Karsien to simply watch over and protect me, not recruit me into the fold.


    ¡°You need to,¡± Karsien said, undeterred. ¡°We¡¯re going to strike soon, Greahd. Truly attack. And we can¡¯t rush in without the best preparations possible.¡±


    She hesitated; an arm on the door. I could see the indecision warring on her face. She wanted to shut the door on us, and by proxy shut herself off from the violence.


    The woman visibly deflated, then moved out of the doorway silently.


    Karsien took this as a sign that he should enter, so he did. I followed behind, trying to avoid Greahd¡¯s eyes.


    When we were inside, Karsien withdrew something from his dimension ring I hadn¡¯t expected. I recognized it as a beast core, though it wasn¡¯t the same shade as the one I¡¯d taken so long ago from the bark-skin grohd. It was a deep blue, with shimmering lines of white rippling through the surface.


    Greahd glanced from the core to Karsien, a resigned look across her face. At that moment, she seemed twice her age. ¡°This is the last time, Kars,¡± she said, laying her hands on the core. ¡°It¡¯s getting too dangerous here. I can¡¯t go along with it anymore. Not after today.¡±


    I felt mana swell from both of them, then churn toward the beast core. Their spells met in the middle, intertwining and converging in a strange mishmash of mana. My mind struggled to understand what was going on, my knowledge of the powers of this world too low to comprehend it.


    In a minute, the wavy blue lines inside the beast core shifted, wrapping and twisting to form a new shape. Soon, I could make out straight and legible strokes, coming together to form a single character.


    A rune, I realized. The inside of the beast core had a rune floating in the middle, glimmering with barely contained mana. I didn¡¯t recognize the rune, but it felt similar to the mana Karsien had been using.


    The Rat tossed the sphere to me, surprising me. I caught it in one hand, then rolled it over to inspect it. I could sense water mana within, along with something containing and compressing the rune inside.


    ¡°That¡¯s yours,¡± Karsien said. ¡°My mist spell is condensed inside the core. Breaking it will release the spell, causing everything nearby to have their senses dampened and obscured.¡±


    That was incredibly versatile. Did that mean that Greahd was able to store spells inside of beast cores? Or just runes? How did that work? How long were they good for?


    I looked up from the core. ¡°Can you store any sort of spell in any beast core?¡± I asked, a bit excited.


    Greahd shook her head. ¡°The mana beast the core came from had to have the same elemental affinity as the spell that I want to store,¡± the woman said, looking weary. ¡°I can store deviant elemental spells in beast cores with the original element, however, but they don¡¯t last nearly as long.¡±


    Though the woman¡¯s sadness took some of my excitement from my sails, I mustered on. Karsien was right about one thing: this was the final showdown. I¡¯d need all the preparation I could get.


    I stored the spell-laden beast core in my dimension ring, then retrieved the trophy of one of my first victories in this world from the subspace. A brown core settled into my palm, with ridges of autumn orange within. I had taken this from the corpse of a bark-skin grohd what felt like years ago.


    I stared at it for a moment. ¡°Is there anything you can do with this?¡±

 Chapter 38: Mission Start

    Toren Daen


    Hofal and I bounded over the rooftops, making a beeline for the warehouse owned by Blood Jasper. I jumped through the air, a pulse of telekinesis launching me a good thirty feet. The air whipped at my cloak, and it would¡¯ve made a fluttering sound if I wasn¡¯t constantly suppressing any noise around me with my magic.


    I hit the next rooftop running. Hofal jumped from where we had just been, using the extra strength his runes provided him to leap across the gap. Noticing he wasn¡¯t going to neatly clear the street below, I used two telekinetic pulls on his body, adding extra momentum to his leap.


    At the same time, I pulled on the opposite edge of the rooftop, using a single pull instead of two. I ground my feet into the wood roof beneath me, making sure I wouldn¡¯t be lifted into the air by my own magic.


    Hofal landed the jump with barely a stumble. With a nod, he ran toward the edge of the roof, making to leap again. I added a couple of pushes of telekinesis to his back, stabilizing myself so I wouldn¡¯t be thrown backward.


    He soared over a wide street, then kept running. I jumped after him, continuing our roof-bound trek toward the warehouse.


    Hofal couldn¡¯t jump as far as I could, so whenever we reached a particularly wide gap I had to assist.


    It was a foggy night. The clouds hung low in the sky, blanketing the streets and obscuring the senses of all. For anybody else, it would be foolish to be running about right now. There could be thieves and scoundrels about, ready to jump you from the mists.


    But I was that thief and scoundrel, so I embraced the cover the fog provided.


    The blithe warehouse we were going to was owned by Blood Jasper. It was just along the border wall of East and North Fiachra, making it far out of the way of the other two stockpiling locations further south. One of those was being tackled by Karsien and Naereni together. The other was assigned to Wade. Once those went up in flames, they¡¯d all join Hofal and me for a final assault on the distillery.


    After a bit of maneuvering, the buildings began to be more sparse. We were entering the wealthier¨Crelatively, of course¨Cparts of East Fiachra. Our objective was easy to spot: the symbol of Blood Jasper was, unsurprisingly, an illustration of the mineral from which they got their name. With the logo plastered prominently on the large three-story warehouse, it was easy to tell that this was our target.


    Hofal settled onto the rooftop next to me. It had been explained to me that Hofal and I would work together for the same reason Naereni and Karsien would: a more experienced mage working alongside a rookie helped balance out chances for failure.


    I stared at the windows of the warehouse. I knew the inner mappings of it well because of Wade¡¯s reconnaissance, and just like my last attack on a warehouse, I knew the best entry and exit points.


    Hofal noticed my hesitation. The man wasn¡¯t smoking tonight, something I found a bit odd. His older face was hidden behind a familiar mask. ¡°Feeling nervous?¡± he asked.


    ¡°A little,¡± I admitted. I had talked with Lady Dawn a bit before finally setting out tonight. It had been a day since the plan was first explained to me, allowing me to get my thoughts in order. She had agreed with this course of action, believing it to be my best shot at Blood Joan.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ this is it. I¡¯ve waited for months to actually hit the Joans, and tonight is that night.¡±


    I would be avenging my brother soon. I felt a wave of guilt as I remembered that I hadn¡¯t even visited his grave since I left the Healer¡¯s Guild in a huff all that time ago. Would I be able to when we were done? Would I deserve to?


    Hofal nodded. ¡°If you weren¡¯t nervous, there¡¯d be something wrong with you. Too many youths have rushed headlong into danger thinking themselves invincible. Like a man thinking his knuckles are tougher than stone, then being surprised when they break after punching a brick.¡±


    I turned to look at the man slightly. Hofal acted as a sort of grandfather to the entirety of the Rats, always offering emotional support and advice when it was needed. I learned recently that he had been one of Karsien¡¯s regular ascension partners, and had followed him to Fiachra when he decided to start this merry band.


    I flexed my hand. It still hurt slightly, but the pain was proof that my blood was as red as it was in my previous life. I wasn¡¯t invincible.


    ¡°Just gotta do it,¡± I muttered standing up.


    A few guards were circling the perimeter of the warehouse, something that I didn¡¯t have to worry about in my last heist. I could sense a bit of mana from them, too.


    It seemed word had gotten out that the Rats had hit Blood Ilason.


    I dropped to the ground, silent as a shadow. Hofal fell next to me, the collision of his boots on the cobbles muffled by my magic. We were still out of sight of the mages nearby, but probably not out of sensing range. When I was sure that the patrol had passed, Hofal and I darted to the edge of the building.


    We only had a few seconds of blind spot to act. Hofal began to focus on one of his runes, then touched the brick wall.


    It folded inward, the earth inside bending to Hofal¡¯s will. It smoothed over the nearby bricks, bolstering a small ring around the opening with an extra layer of rock. The parts that smoothed over gained small patterns and shapes lined deep into the stone, showing marks of where Hofal had touched.


    I grinned, then darted into the dimly lit warehouse. Hofal followed a second later. There was a slight draft in the opening, but we wouldn¡¯t have time to try and close the gap.


    Apparently, Hofal¡¯s shield crest focused solely on making earthen walls. But the source of that earth could be anything, and he utilized that to his advantage to peel an opening apart and reform it as ¡®walls¡¯ on the side.


    Stacks of boxes piled up ten feet in the air, covering the ground. A few of them had the stylized ember of Blood Joan on them, the illicit product inside proudly declaring their source.


    The mana signatures I sensed were more closely packed toward the offices on the opposite end, no doubt wary about another attempt to steal the precious money and information inside as we had a few days ago. But now the modus operandi of the Rats was about to change.


    Hofal withdrew a few flasks from his dimension ring. Inside each of the glass bottles was a certain trapped gas, one that the sewers had in plenty.


    Methane.


    Prior to the operation, Naereni and Karsien had worked together to concentrate some of the released methane gas from the sewers into these tiny bottles. It was difficult work and their actions only yielded a few bottles with high enough quality, but we didn¡¯t need much.


    On top of the bottles was a small mana artifact that was the core of this operation, sealing them shut and keeping the deadly gas contained.


    Hofal handed me a few of the bottles. I nodded to him in acceptance, then dashed to one of the first stacks. I set down the bottle in a corner of the boxes, right next to the ember of Blood Joan. I pressed a button on the artifact, starting a countdown timer of five minutes. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I moved stealthily from tower to tower, setting down bottles in opportune places and starting the timers. A few times I sensed a mage wandering near, which caused me to withdraw deeper into the shadows. The men around here were clearly on edge, from the hunch of their shoulders and the darting looks in their eyes.


    I¡¯d show them why that fear was warranted.


    In a couple of minutes, I¡¯d planted all the bottles in place. I covertly darted to the edge of the building at the agreed-upon meeting place.


    This wouldn¡¯t have been possible without Wade¡¯s thorough scouting of the building interior, allowing me to plot a route near perfectly through the stacks of boxes.


    Hofal arrived a minute later. I was starting to get antsy, the nerves from the countdown hurrying my steps. But I didn¡¯t need to worry: Hofal arrived soon enough, none the worse for wear.


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    He began to focus on the rune that allowed him to mold earth. Pressing his hand against the bricks, I watched as the bricks folded away, morphing them as he did before. The earth flowed as if liquid, and when reformed had a dozen different symbols and designs on it.


    But not fast enough. A mage rounded the corner, then froze at the sight of us. His eyes widened in alarm. He opened his mouth to yell, raising his staff between us.


    I dashed toward him, creating an echo of sound as I moved. He didn¡¯t have any time to react as my fist buried itself in his stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs in a wheeze.


    I dropped him a second later, but that brief bit of time was enough noise to alert everyone else.


    It didn¡¯t matter. We¡¯d already set the flasks, and from my internal counting, there was barely more than a minute left on them.


    Hofal had moved outside the wall. I could hear the bustle of men moving as I dragged the unconscious mage to the opening, hopefully getting him clear of the warehouse interior.


    Outside, I could hear the sounds of a faint scuffle. When I poked my head out into the night air, Hofal had already knocked a few mages unconscious. But between that and the noises from inside, our cover was effectively blown.


    ¡°We¡¯ve gotta go,¡± I said, stating the obvious. ¡°Only a couple of seconds until those things go off!¡±


    Hofal nodded, running back into the streets. I bounded after him, using telekinesis to help me catch up to him. A few guards noticed our frantic escape, calling after us and preparing for pursuit. I could feel their mana flaring, preparing some spells to throw.


    Before they could even try, the first of the methane flasks went off.


    Hofal was good with artifacts and machines. He was the one who had set up rudimentary plumbing to the Cistern, leeching off the city¡¯s water lines. But what he made here was far more flashy than a water pump.


    Inside each of the mana timers was the head of a cigar lighter. When the timer reached its end, a small contraption struck two bits of steel together, causing a single spark.


    And that was all it took. I couldn¡¯t see it, but I knew a couple of the flasks had exploded. The bursts weren¡¯t large: they weren¡¯t designed for that, after all. Instead, they threw fire to all the crates nearby.


    And blithe was very, very flammable.


    The chain reaction was audible as the crates exploded behind us. Booms sounded out loud, acting as thunderous applause to our victory. A few nearby windowpanes rattled from the noise, making me grin.


    I leapt into the air, aiming for the rooftops. I pulled Hofal after, working in tandem to get him on the roof with me.


    I could already smell the smoke. I turned around, looking at the warehouse which was already a block or so away. Thick black smoke billowed out its windows, tinged with a strange scent I couldn¡¯t recognize.


    Probably the blithe burning.


    Using the devices as we did instead of actual spells was intentional: spells could be sensed and detected by mages, while mana artifacts were more difficult to pinpoint, especially ones so very small. Planting those devices gave the least chance of discovery.


    I watched from afar as the smoke poured out of windows, part of me hoping the mages inside managed to find a way to escape the hellfire. Most of the people I could sense inside were huddled near the main offices, expecting to have to fight off thieves reaching for their wealth. Instead, we sent their ¡®product¡¯ up in flames.


    But another part of me didn¡¯t care. These men willingly guarded this death drug, seemingly content to help their employers further poison the denizens of East Fiachra. I should let them burn in the aftermath.


    My own thoughts on the vigilante justice I was performing were manyfold. The me from Earth would be utterly appalled at what I had been doing. Going after drug makers? Stealing from people?


    But that was my previous world. On Earth, there was a due process that, while not perfect, did protect those at the bottom. If a millionaire beat me up on the street, I could expect outrage from the public and a settlement in court.


    Here? Here, you turned the other cheek. You were weak, so you suffered and only had yourself to blame. It was ingrained, even into Toren himself.


    The smoke stretching into the sky warned me that the window to attack the distillery would begin to close now. I didn¡¯t know how good of an information network Blood Joan possessed, but all three warehouses being struck in succession was a blaring siren telling them that everything blithe-related was going down.


    I trusted Naereni, Karsien, and Wade to finish their assignments just fine. What I was worried about was the assault on the distillery.


    In both my and Lady Dawn¡¯s opinions, there were many flaws to this plan. I questioned some things about it: Why not wait to destroy the distillery after the warehouses, and prepare more thoroughly? Couldn¡¯t we try and get more information about the distillery before attacking it?


    Karsien had pointed out that the Joans were likely to pull their distillery underground if the warehouses were destroyed. And besides, the point of the operation was to be big and loud. There were always going to be pitfalls in attacks like this. Not every variable could be accounted for.


    Hofal patted me on the shoulder reassuringly. Pulling myself back to the present, I turned northwards toward the tall dividing stone that separated the rich from the poor. It was a living monument to the truth of this canal city, no matter its beauty.


    Instead of trying to leap over the wall like I did the first time, Hofal and I dropped into the sewers once again. The sewer systems between East and North Fiachra ran on different lines because the wealthy refused to let their shit mix with that of the poor. But there were places where they ran close enough that Hofal¡¯s rune could peel the gap apart.


    I trudged through the wet muck of the North Fiachra sewer, each step taking me closer to my goal. I thought over the plan one more time, trying to iron it into my memory.


    Karsien, Naereni, and Wade were further from North Fiachra than we were. The Rat and his protege were busy destroying their own warehouse, while Wade sent rats carrying bottles of methane into his assigned warehouse to deposit the mini explosives remotely.


    Wade had done some initial reconnaissance of the distillery building, but his range and control with his crest didn¡¯t extend far enough to allow him to spy as well as he wanted. He had to be within a certain radius of his rats for them to maintain their ¡®orders,¡¯ and apparently, the area around the distillery was being watched heavily enough that it made it difficult for him to approach.


    That was where Karsien came in. His mist spell would allow us to approach a lot easier, masking our positions from the enemy. It would also be indistinguishable from the fog that was already obscuring so much of our natural vision. Wade would be able to get close, allowing him to get more accurate details of the structure and its layout from his tiny little minions.


    Hofal and I reached a ladder, which allowed us access to the world above. We climbed out slowly, then the shield used his signature artifact to freeze off the remnants of sewage on my boots.


    North Fiachra felt wealthy, even under the starlight. The canals were narrower, fitting the more personal nature of the Blooded district. The average house rose three stories tall instead of the normal two, and lighting artifacts lined the streets, keeping everything in perpetual illumination.


    Unlike the warehouses, the distillery wasn¡¯t above ground. It was nestled underneath a nondescript cabin that bordered a canal. Wade didn¡¯t know much about the interior, but he did relate to us that the side of the canal slid away, revealing an access port for small boats carrying men and shipments deeper within.


    I vaulted onto a nearby roof, then helped Hofal up. This was the agreed-upon meeting place for our group, as the area directly around the distillery was tightly monitored.


    But as I settled in to wait, something began to gnaw at me. The streets around were too quiet; too deserted. Where everywhere else I heard the chirping of crickets and the buzz of lighting artifacts, now there was only a strange silence.


    It was like the world had exhaled its last breath here.


    Hofal shifted where he stood, his eyes darting around nervously. Whatever it was, he sensed it too.


    I covertly scanned my surroundings, cautious and on edge. Was there something I missed?


    It took a minute for me to finally put the pieces together.


    There¡¯s nobody patrolling around, I realized with confusion. Even the warehouses had mages constantly circling about, but I can¡¯t sense any mana signatures.


    I frowned, feeling a mix of confusion and dread. Wade had said that this place was patrolled heavily enough that he couldn¡¯t approach close enough, so why¡­


    I turned to look in the direction I knew the distillery was. Something was wrong here.


    I ran over all that I knew in my head. The current situation didn¡¯t match what Wade had spoken of, which meant either something had changed, or the young librarian was wrong, which I didn¡¯t believe. But what had changed?


    I needed to know. I was the most mobile of the Rats, so I had the best chance of noticing the difference and getting out quickly.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I said, trusting my instincts. They¡¯d gotten me through the Clarwood Forest; they¡¯d get me through here. ¡°I¡¯m going to scout ahead for a little bit. I¡¯ve got a bad feeling about this.¡±


    Hofal started. ¡°Wait a few minutes for Karsien to get here,¡± the older ex-ascender said. ¡°I agree that there¡¯s something¡­ off right now, but rushing headlong in will only limit your options.¡±


    That caused me to pause. Hofal was right: if I waited a little bit, then I¡¯d have backup in the form of Karsien and Naereni. But the part of me that was telling me something was off was also screaming that whatever was here, I didn¡¯t want them to be a part of it.


    A shiver ran down my spine as I thought over the problem in front of me. If there was danger up ahead, it was better that I alone encountered it. I was more powerful than I let these people think.


    I shook my head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not a good idea. I¡¯ll just go a few blocks over and check to see if anybody is actually watching the distillery. Wade said that the security around here was tight, but I can¡¯t sense a living soul.¡±


    Hofal stilled. ¡°I still say you should wait for backup. I¡¯ve known too many warriors who died because they¡¯ve had a gut feeling.¡±


    I licked my lips, peering through the illuminated streets. ¡°Then you¡¯d better hope I¡¯m not one of them.¡±

 Chapter 39: Misdirection

    Toren Daen


    I approached the distillery building carefully, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The shadows masked me well this high up, the darkness cloaking me like a friend.


    I¡¯d left Hofal behind. My speed allowed me to outpace any pursuit he tried, so I didn¡¯t know if he was trying to follow or not.


    With luck, I¡¯d be back to the meeting spot in a few minutes.


    Every now and then I checked my surroundings, a part of me hoping I¡¯d spot some sort of patrol. That would banish my fears.


    I found nothing. No hide nor hair of man or woman rewarded my search. The streets remained quiet, creating an eerie feeling when combined with the persistent fog. I felt like I was being watched from the haze, but no eyes met my own. The mist was pervasive and ever-present, and where before I had viewed it as an ally for this heist, now I watched it with wary caution.


    Anything could hide in the fog.


    My anxiety ratcheted up a notch as I finally spotted the building I knew was a facade for the underground factory. A long street led up to it, with smaller buildings on either side. Right past the building was a winding canal, the water drifting along lazily. A bridge connected the street from one side to the other.


    The banks were steep, nearly a sheer ninety degrees. Unlike most waterways, the banks were also tall. If anybody fell in, they¡¯d be stuck without magic or assistance. The fog gave the water in the canal a wide berth, something I didn¡¯t quite understand. What could cause that?


    My actual target was a mostly wooden structure. It was short and quaint, looking like a canalside cabin rather than the front for drug mixing operations. I could almost imagine myself relaxing outside on a Saturday morning, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise from the nice wrap-around porch they had.


    I dropped to the stones, muffling the sound I made as I landed. I couldn¡¯t use my normal roof-hopping methods anymore; the distance was too great.


    As I approached the building, I thought over all I knew. There wasn¡¯t any human presence nearby and I couldn¡¯t sense any mages. Wade¡¯s investigations were all I had to go on regarding this place, but everything he had told us¨Cminus the actual physical description of the building¨Chad turned out to be false. No heavy presence of people; no covert guards that kept him away.


    Had he been wrong?


    No, I didn¡¯t think so. Which left few other options.


    Was I acting impulsive on purpose? Part of me wondered. I was so close to my goal. Was I simply finding an excuse to rush the last few feet to my vengeance, like a sprinter pushing themselves once more near the end of a marathon?


    The handle of the cabin door taunted me, like a dancer holding out their hand. Would I accept their waltz? Stride into the abyss?


    I stared at it for a moment as the reality of the situation sunk in. The absence of presence could only mean that the Joans had expected an eventual assault on their distillery and had moved it. There was no way they would wait for the Rats to attack them here.


    I sighed inaudibly, the constant sound suppression I kept up masking the noise. The Rats would have to start another game of cat and mouse, scrambling after leads blindly and trying to pin down a foe with far more resources than they had.


    The destruction of the warehouses would make the Joans far more cautious. They¡¯d go underground, and there would be no telling how difficult it would be to uproot them once again.


    I turned around, planning to go back to the nearby rooftops. Hofal would receive depressing news. Maybe he¡¯d tell me a story about how the construction of a building always had its pitfalls to cheer me up.


    A click sounded from behind me. It was barely audible, akin to the sound of a cigarette lighter¡¯s sliding metal. It was hardly noticeable: in fact, I wouldn¡¯t have drawn my attention if not for my enhanced sense of hearing and the utter stillness of the night. And because our little methane bombs made the Exact. Same. Sound.


    Replacing the earlier silence, my senses screamed at me from inside my head. Acting purely on instinct, I flared my crest. Familiar warmth coursed from my core to my back, my telekinesis rune activating under my will.


    I threw everything I had into a push behind me, pressing against the door that still remained innocuously closed.


    I rocketed forward into the street, propelled by my crest.


    Not fast enough. A detonation followed; a wave of heat and force at my back. A deafening explosion propelled me forward just as much as my own telekinesis, a blinding flash of light blocking out my sight for a moment.


    I felt the fire sear at my back, my mana shroud barely protecting me from the licking flames.


    The force of the explosion behind me sent me tumbling through the air. I hit the ground thirty feet away twice, rolling painfully before instinctively trying to balance myself midair. My feet stumbled on the cobblestones, then I rolled a bit more before skidding to a halt.


    I coughed, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what had just happened. My vision was fuzzy from the cacophonous flash of light, and I blinked multiple times as I struggled to my feet.


    I¨CI needed to take stock of myself. Make sure I wasn¡¯t hurt.


    I was in the center of the wide street, having been flung a good fifty feet from the center of detonation. The cape of my cloak had been burned completely, causing me to discard what was left. The arms of my shirt had been charred as well, exposing a bit of my tattoo. I felt dull pain from where I¡¯d tumbled, but I was certain nothing was broken. That was good.


    What wasn¡¯t good was the smoldering ruin of the cabin by the canal. Smoke billowed high into the air, a twisted reflection of the burning warehouse I had left behind not half an hour ago. There had been a bomb inside that building, but now there wasn¡¯t even much of a building left.


    The Joans didn¡¯t just know we¡¯d hit them, I realized with grim horror. They were planning for it.


    I finally sensed mana presences popping up around me. One, two, three, four¡­


    Dread threatened to consume me. They had me surrounded from all sides, boxing me into this extremely exposed position. A few stepped out into the street, leveraging weapons in my direction, but most stayed in the shadows.


    My eyes darted around, trying to find a route of escape. I had to get out of here and warn the others. That blast was probably meant to kill every one of the Rats, but I¡¯d only escaped due to my supernatural hearing and telekinesis.


    But then a fifth mage dropped from a tall building, landing in front of me fifteen feet away. They were dressed in dark colors. A stiletto was secured on a belt at their waist. A cloth mask kept their feminine figure somewhat hidden, but not the eyes.


    Not the eyes.


    They were grey as steel, and I might¡¯ve mistaken them for cold apathy if I couldn¡¯t recognize a boiling hatred in them. It was barely restrained, kept in place by an effort of will. Any wrong move; any twitch forward would unleash the tide held behind those eyes.


    I knew that hatred; that bitter fury. I knew it because I felt it threatening to break out of myself, the object of my ire finally standing across from me. The woman who had killed Norgan was less than twenty feet from me, tensed like a cat ready to strike. Thoughts of warning the Rats immediately vanished, my focus solely on the woman in front of me.


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    I stiffened, my hand drawing my dagger. The steel in my white-knuckled grip promised blood retribution. ¡°Kaelan Joan,¡± I hissed. My voice wasn¡¯t altered by sound magic. I wanted it to be heard. As it was in nature. As it was when she slew my brother.


    The entire perimeter around me was fraught with tension. The mages were primed to attack and finally complete their pincer movement to take me down. But my attention narrowed on the woman across from me like tunnel vision, the only thing I could see was that stiletto on her hip driving its way through my brother¡¯s chest. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Norgan¡¯s murder shifted on her feet, lightning crackling from her fists. ¡°I promised you that the scion would end your miserable life,¡± she snarled, rage breaking through her composure. ¡°But you¡¯ve spat on my gift. Attacking your betters has resigned your fate to one far worse than promised.¡± She rolled her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m going to give you a death far slower than your weakling brother got. You wasted my mercy.¡±


    I dashed toward her with a roar, using a burst of telekinesis and fire to fling me forward at unimaginable speeds. I channeled mana through my steel, hardening it and sharpening it for when it would dig into Kaelan Joan¡¯s flesh.


    I swung my blade in a crescent arc, fire coating my weapon as the edge called for blood. I watched Kaelan¡¯s eyes widen in shock as I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat. My dagger cut into her arm, but the striker used a burst of speed to hastily move backward, sparing her any further cuts.


    Unwilling to let my advantage go, I started to harry Kaelan. She was slow to react, my initial attack having caught her off guard. Lightning began to appear on her arms, a familiar spellform that I had seen before.


    ¡°You killed my brother,¡± I spat through the onslaught. ¡°You¡¯re going to burn for what you¡¯ve done! Burn like your fucking drugs!¡±


    Before I could continue my assault, however, I felt something wrap around my ankle. I was tugged backward off my feet and then hurled toward where I started.


    A whip-like cord of water held my leg tight as it slammed me back into the concrete, away from my enemy. I felt some of the breath leave my body, a measure of the impact getting through my mana shroud. The spell traced back to one of the four other mages that surrounded me, something I had somehow forgotten in my rage.


    Imbuing a shroud of sound over my dagger, I cut at the tendril of water that held my leg. The spell was severed, and not a moment too soon. A barrage of spells was aimed at me from two separate corners, their casters shielded by the shadows of buildings.


    Trying to reorient myself, I used a burst of telekinesis on the ground, pushing myself into the air. The spells¨Ca gale of cutting wind and bullets of water¨Cpassed through where I had just been.


    I sensed something approaching, but I was too late to react. A torrent of fire splashed against me, blowing me back to the ground in a roll.


    The spell burned at my clothing even more, tearing at the dark fabric. I grit my teeth, then focused on one of my spells. Sound mana surrounded my palm in an oil-like sheen, building and building to a crescendo.


    Then I slammed my palm into the earth, causing slight tremors and a crashing boom to echo out into the foggy night. The fires around dispersed from the shockwave, but it was far less effective than I¡¯d hoped. The mana I could sense being prepared for another wave of spells paused only for a moment then began to build again.


    I barely brought my dagger up in time to deflect the lightning-clad strike of Kaelan Joan, who had maneuvered into my guard with deadly precision. She stabbed with it again, something I narrowly diverted in a shower of sparks. Some of those were from metal on metal, but more were from the errant spells of my enemy.


    Every collision of steel sent tendrils of electricity snaking up my hands, the automatic defense of my enemy searing my flesh and making my grip spasm. My rage, while still burning hot inside of me, began to simmer off as Kaelan Joan kept me occupied. My counters and deflections were off-balance because of each and every electric twitch, causing me to adjust haphazardly as I was forced on the defensive. Cuts opened here and there along my body as I was edged back.


    Yet I could see her movements now. She wasn¡¯t a blur to me like she was when she slew my brother. But she had four other mages providing suppressing fire for her, keeping me stuck in this little patch of road.


    I needed to get out of this encirclement. Moving through one of the combat forms Lady Dawn had taught me, I used the edge of my blade to redirect Kaelan Joan¡¯s. Instead of sinking into my stomach, it passed near my ribcage instead.


    Lightning jumped from her blade to my body, though, battering against my mana shroud and making me sweat. I shifted stances slightly, gathering a fireball in my palm. Then, I used my momentum from the deflection to deliver a brutal counter.


    The heel of my palm sank into the stomach of my brother¡¯s murderer, pressing the condensed ball of fire into her abdomen. The electricity coating Kaelan¡¯s body sent spasms up my hand, causing it to convulse, but my own fireball detonated, sending Kaelan hurtling away.


    I whirled on my feet, gathering mana under my heel. I tried to rocket toward the nearby buildings, knowing that my hampered mobility here was a death sentence.


    I soared straight into a bubble of water. My momentum bled off of me as I was caught by the spell. I exhaled in surprise, losing precious air and taking in water. My eyes widened in alarm, darting down to the mage who had cast it. She was familiar.


    Meera, the woman who had run away to save herself in the Clarwood Forest.


    The bubble of water slammed back down into the pavement, bursting in a small deluge. I coughed out liquid, coalescing another sound grenade in my hand. I was starting to feel desperate. They¡¯d trapped me here.


    I threw the sound grenade upward, hoping the blast of noise would give me a reprieve from the constant onslaught. I just needed to get them off balance!


    Another bubble of water, this one from a different mage, leapt out like a beast to swallow my spell. It detonated inside audibly, but the water had done its job, muffling the sound of my attack.


    I was dripping with water, disoriented from being thrown around. My head felt like it was full of cotton, but I forced through the haze to fight. Another salvo of wind and fire converged on my position, aiming to kill me where I stood.


    I pushed myself backward with telekinesis, avoiding the spells. But I lurched right into Kaelan Joan¡¯s blade, which sank into my left shoulder with electric pain. The sadistic striker ripped the weapon free in a spray of blood, then kicked me in the stomach, sending me flying back to where I started. The water I was drenched in directed the lightning across my body, making me shudder as my muscles twitched involuntarily.


    ¡°Did you think we didn¡¯t plan for you, you filthy peasant?!¡± Kaelan snarled, stalking forward. Blood streamed down my shoulder, but I pulled myself to my feet. ¡°We¡¯ve got a water caster and shield here for a reason. You won¡¯t be able to pull any of your tricks to save your measly little life!¡±


    I coughed, doing an unconscious check of my shoulder. The stab wound wasn¡¯t deep, but the lingering lightning mana caused it to spasm periodically. I couldn¡¯t reliably clench my fist there, and the wound already ached.


    Kaelan Joan stood ten feet away from me, breathing heavily as she glared at me. A deep cut marked her upper tricep from my initial attack against her, and it was bleeding even more heavily than my own wound.


    Her glare redoubled my fury. For all that I was outnumbered and cornered, she had no right to feel angry at me. My anger? It was justified, a blade of vengeance quenched in the blood of my dying brother. I had honed myself to draw its edge across her throat.


    She didn¡¯t like that I disrespected her family. It was the tantrum of a child who had their toy house knocked over.


    I snarled, settling back into my stance. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d make it out of this, but I would take that devil with me.


    I had already died once. Another time would only be fair if I could take that woman with me.


    Lady Dawn, I thought, using the telepathic connection of our bond seriously for the first time since it was made. I do not know if I will escape this. But in case I do not, I hope you can forgive me for failing in your vengeance.


    I didn¡¯t hear any reply. I didn¡¯t expect to.


    I planned to complete my own revenge at the cost of my own life. There was something selfish about that. The phoenix promised me power to use for not just accomplishing my goals, but hers as well.


    But I was expecting to die here, only fulfilling one end of the bargain. It was morbidly amusing. In the end, I would end up being a greater thief than anything Karsien could ever dream of. Who would think to steal the power of an asura, only to let it burn away like this?


    I spread mana throughout my body, reinforcing it and the natural shield around me. My dagger had a chip in it from its previous clashes against Kaelan Joan¡¯s stiletto: no doubt that accursed weapon of hers was forged from better materials. But it had proven my dagger could draw her blood.


    Before I could launch myself at them, I heard another click.


    Where before the subtle sound had only rung once to prelude destruction, now it sounded several times.


    My eyes darted to a spherical object that had bounced on the cobblestones nearby, making clinking sounds as it rolled. It was dark brown and unnaturally smooth. Orange streaks threaded through the small sphere, constantly twisting and morphing into random shapes.


    I felt a grin creep onto my face as realization dawned on me. That was a beast core: one I¡¯d given to Naereni. After all, the spell that I¡¯d stuffed inside with help from Greahd would be wasted on me.


    Kaelan Joan¡¯s eyes widened in alarm, right before the beast core exploded.

 Chapter 40: To Avenge

    Toren Daen


    A sound like the detonation of a bomb stacked upon itself a dozen times over echoed outward. It was like an explosion crossed with the sound sheet metal makes when rattled, except ramped up to absurd decibels and with a bit of reverb.


    Needless to say, most of the mages around Kaelan and I fell to their knees. But I was unaffected: the spell inside the beast core had been made of my own mana, meaning that it could not harm me if I didn¡¯t want it to.


    I fished inside my dimension rune, using the distraction provided to withdraw another beast core. Inside the bluish sphere, a white rune floated serenely, far more stable in appearance than the earlier sound bomb.


    I caught a quick glimpse of Naereni and Hofal dropping to the ground, intent on ambushing the mages concussed by the sound bomb. But I didn¡¯t have much time to look.


    I crushed the beast core in my hands. It cracked like stone, splintering and releasing the captive spell inside. Mist burst from the orb, billowing outward like the wall of a storm. It engulfed everything in a five-yard radius instantly, dampening the senses of all who were unaware and unkeyed to the spell.


    Karsien¡¯s spells were versatile as hell. If he envisioned a person¡¯s mana signature as he cast his cloaking spells, the mist would not obstruct their senses. And considering my own senses remained as keen as ever, I knew it was a success.


    Kaelan Joan, however? She was trapped in a swirl of deathly fog, unsure as to what had just happened.


    Thank you, Karsien, I thought. The man had promised me a shot at Kaelan Joan. This was as close as anything.


    I rushed at the woman, using all the speed I could muster. My blade carved through her side, streaking blood and breaking through her electric defenses. She screamed in agony.


    I relished that scream. When I heard it, I could almost imagine that it washed away the pain in my shoulder.


    I threw a hook at the woman, but she darted backward, trying to escape the mist. I followed in dogged pursuit, harrying her attempts to outmaneuver justice. Wherever she moved, I followed, striking low and not allowing her a second to breathe. Our blades sparked as they bounced off each other, and though each clash left my dagger a little more worn, it also came back with droplets of blood.


    Kaelan Joan burst out of the mist, her eyes gleaming with hatred.


    And maybe a little fear. Like a predator sensing weakness, I continued after, not letting up on the woman.


    She deflected a strike of mine to the side, but I used the momentum to punch her in the ribs, right where I had drawn a line of blood earlier in the mists. She gasped, but the knuckle guard of my dagger connecting with her temple sent her sprawling backward. Electricity sparked off the blow, running down my arm and causing my hand to twitch slightly.


    I looked down at my arms. The sleeves of my shirt had burned off a while ago, exposing the red tattoo that snaked from my palm upward. Lightning burns sprawled over my fingers, but the pain was dulled by my adrenaline. My left arm spasmed every now and then from the stab I had taken, the residue of lightning mana sending jolts along my nerves.


    My shirt was slowly burning away, too. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to care, even if it was one of my last good ones. The signet ring of Named Blood Daen felt warm against my chest, the chain that kept it around my neck cold in contrast.


    My brother¡¯s murderer stumbled backward, but the brief inspection of myself allowed her to recover. She lashed out with her dagger, electricity coating it as she blurred toward me. We exchanged a flurry of blows, but I had focused myself; centered my anger in a way that drove me on.


    The last time she and I had fought, I hadn¡¯t even been able to track her movements. But with mana enhancing my vision and the constant practice of the Clarwood Forest backing me, I was able to evade and deflect her blows with precision.


    Kaelan Joan snarled bestially at me, recognizing the tide of the fight had turned. I was no longer trapped in her encirclement, and the Rats were systematically taking down the mages in the fog behind me.


    It was just me and her now.


    The woman thundered forward, tendrils of yellow lightning striking at the ground around her feet. They scorched rivulets into the cobblestones, sending bits of dust into the air.


    The dagger forms taught by an asura guided me along in this deadly combat. I watched the woman get more and more frustrated as her attacks failed to connect. The only damage she had done was through the lightning around her lashing out at me, burning me slightly for every exchange. But it was far from enough to actually slow me down.


    But fighting was starting to make me fatigued. My muscles burned, and if it wasn¡¯t constantly being ionized by close contact with a living bolt of lightning, I was sure there would be sweat on my arms.


    One of my counters came up short, a spasm running through my left arm stalling my movement. I recognized it the moment the striker did as well: a gleam in her eyes; some vindictive cruelty in her eyes.


    She lunged at me, her needlepoint weapon closing the distance to my sternum. I wouldn¡¯t be able to dodge this: my stance was off slightly and overextended. The best I could do was compensate; take the hit. But no.


    Unwilling to let the woman draw a drop more of my blood, I pushed my will into my telekinesis crest. I used three pushes again, all layered atop one another against the woman in front of me.


    The last time I tried to use my crest to affect this woman, her lightning defenses had automatically destroyed my mana construct before it could act. I was worried the same would happen again.


    I shouldn¡¯t have been. With the weight of my training backing up my magic, my telekinetic push flared white, shrugging off the little zaps that tried to disperse it. My push connected with my foe, sending both of us tumbling back.


    I balanced myself quickly, squaring off with the Joan once more. Only a minute or so had passed since I had escaped the enclosure and the sound of battle within the mist behind me was starting to clear up.


    I realized something then, staring across at my nemesis as our blood dripped to the ground beneath us. My breathing was heavy, and my muscles tingled from the fight. I reached a hand up to my mask, grabbing it and ripping it off my face. I threw it to the ground in front of me.


    For all the time I¡¯d been in this world, I¡¯d been driven by vengeance against Blood Joan. But the idea of vengeance was vague. What did I actually want to do? Was I going to bleed their family dry, ruining their finances and crippling them economically? Was I going to track down all those who had harmed me and make them face the same pain? Was I only going to expose their corruption and drug dealing?


    But as I stalked toward the woman across from me, I knew what I was going to do. I didn¡¯t want to admit it to myself; didn¡¯t want to acknowledge I could do such a thing.


    But as I met the eyes of my brother¡¯s murderer, I knew I was going to kill her. I was going to sink my dagger into her heart and twist. Unlike the skaunters of the Clarwood Forest, I would relish each moment of dragging the edge of my blade over Kaelan Joan¡¯s body. I moved forward, grim fury fueling each step. I saw Kaelan Joan¡¯s own anger waver in the air, like the light of a candle flickering as a storm approaches.


    She wasn¡¯t used to her enemies fighting back. She didn¡¯t know how to handle this.


    ¡°I made a promise that day, too,¡± I said, settling back into my stance. ¡°When you killed my brother? When you left him to bleed out in an alley like a dog? I promised Blood Joan wouldn¡¯t get to finish the job.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll fucking kill you,¡± Kaelan said, though the way she shuffled backward took the confidence from her statement. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you, and then I¡¯ll hang your corpse atop our gates!¡±


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    ¡°No,¡± I said in reply. ¡°You can feel it now. You¡¯re powerless here.¡± I narrowed my eyes.


    Something about what I said caused the bit of sense that had surfaced to vanish. She rushed me, her spellforms activating and driving her along. She thrust her stiletto forward, a painfully choreographed attack.


    I smacked it to the side with my own weapon. But the deflection cost me: my dagger, already battered and worn from the brutal combat I had put it through, shattered in the act. Metal shards sprayed to the side; my weapon finally destroyed.


    Kaelan Joan radiated triumph in that split instant. She thought herself victorious. I didn¡¯t know what she looked like beneath the mask that had haunted my dreams, but I could feel her smile as she felt victory approaching.


    But I pushed on the metal shards with my telekinesis, accelerating them in a flash of white. They impacted my enemy¡¯s leg like the spray of a shotgun shell, ignoring her electric defenses and shredding her leg to a meaty pulp.


    She screamed in agony as the corpse of my dagger embedded itself into her thigh, giving her dark ensemble a splash of red. Kaelan¡¯s lightning-shroud spell cut out, the concentration it must¡¯ve required completely obliterated by agonizing pain.


    And it is not yet done.


    I used a push of telekinesis on the striker from above, shoving her down and making her put more weight onto her ruined leg. It predictably buckled from the strain, causing her to tumble down.


    It brought her chin directly into the path of my fire-shrouded knee. I felt the satisfying crunch of bone as the blow threw her into the air, the burst of fire obliterating her cloth mask and adding another echoing scream.


    Kaelan Joan¡¯s body hit the cobblestones in a wet thunk, quivering and screaming in pain. Her leg was unrecognizable above the knee and was bleeding copiously. From what I could see in the darkness, my last attack had shattered her jaw and burned part of her face.


    A distant part of my mind diagnosed the injuries, telling me the likelihood of survival and recovery from such a wound. Seeing how much blood was leaking from what I¡¯d done to her leg, I was sure it was a fatal wound. The shrapnel had likely nicked an artery. If the bleeding wasn¡¯t staunched in a few minutes, she¡¯d expend her life there.


    And as I began my slow march to finish my vengeance, the wretch of a woman tried to claw herself up. Lightning danced around her, fizzling up and sparking intermittently. It looked like what cartoons displayed when a character smashed a fuse box. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Broken.


    As I got closer, I could hear her making sounds from her broken jaw. There were tears streaming down her face, meeting the burned section of her chin. She was missing most of her teeth. Kaelan Joan was trying to pull herself away from me, scratching at the cobblestones in an attempt to flee.


    I looked at her; looked at what I¡¯d done to this woman, and I felt pity.


    Right now, she was another skaunter from the forest, a broken beast that wouldn¡¯t survive in the wild. I was reminded of the first time I had used my dagger, ending the life of a mana beast who had tried to kill me. The way my steel sunk into its flesh was visceral and gut-wrenching.


    But then I saw her stiletto a few feet from her body, the same one that had tasted my brother¡¯s blood. And I was reminded that this was no simple beast. It was a person, with all the cruelty and malice one could possess. Not an animal seeking a way to survive.


    I walked toward the struggling wretch, bringing my boot down hard on her dagger as I walked by. My mana-empowered stomp snapped the blade in two.


    My hands tightened on the handle of my own dagger, still clutched in my palm. It was shattered, but there were shards attached to it that would finish this job.


    As I knelt down next to Kaelan, I noticed that she had short, sandy-blonde hair. She¡¯d always been a black silhouette in my nightmares, a faceless monster that had no human features. But the terror in her eyes as she tried to escape was very, very human.


    I remembered my own issues with killing when I first entered this world. The slice of the knife was intimate; a personal way to end a life. But I wouldn¡¯t hide from the gruesome nature of what I had to do.


    I hesitated for a long moment. Then, with a single, quick flick, I drew what was left of my dagger across the woman¡¯s throat. She didn¡¯t even seem to notice, the shock and haze from her earlier wound masking whatever cognition she had left.


    Carotid artery severed. Less than a minute to bleed out. With current blood loss, less than that, the medical part of my mind provided.


    I watched as the lifeblood of my brother¡¯s killer painted the cobblestones, flowing out in a pumping rhythm. My breathing began to quicken as the light faded from Kaelan Joan¡¯s eyes, a fog overtaking them.


    But where Karsien¡¯s spell would only temporarily rob one of their senses, the haze that clouded Kaelan Joan¡¯s eyes would never relent.


    She was dead.


    I stared at the body for a moment, the crushing fatigue of my battle catching up to me. My arms had lightning scars all along them, and they burned like nothing else. I was bruised and scraped from where I¡¯d been thrown around, and though my arm had finally stopped spasming, it was still leaking blood. My mana reserves were almost empty, drained from the night and the hard fight just before.


    I took a shuddering breath, a couple of tears fighting at the edges of my vision. God, I¡¯d just killed a person. A living, breathing person.


    I stared at the corpse, questions bouncing about in my head. I didn¡¯t think I had the grounds to decide if people deserved death, but if there was anyone in this world who was close, it would¡¯ve been this woman.


    I shook my head, turning back to the battle that was wrapping up in the mists behind me. It had only been a couple of minutes since I¡¯d exited that fog, but I was ready to jump back in if I was needed.


    I could filter this later. Tackle whatever it meant for me.


    Then something impacted me from the side, sending me hurtling into a nearby building. I cracked my head against the wood, which cratered where my body hit. Stars flashed across my vision, the rest of my senses going white. I could just make out somebody strolling out of the fog.


    I pulled myself out of the cratered wooden wall, then stumbled as pain radiated from my back. I¡¯d probably broken a rib or two.


    My mind took a few moments to try and process what had just struck me.


    What happened? What hit me?


    I started to pull mana from my core, trying to reinforce my body, but I was running dry. The comforting warmth of the energy helped wash away some of my bleariness, though.


    A man was looking down at the corpse of Kaelan Joan, a strange expression on his face. He was stroking his chin, peering at the body like it was a merchant giving him a sour deal.


    He had sandy blonde hair and was flanked by constructs of solid flame. They looked kind of like cats, though their outlines shifted and blazed as they pawed around the mage. They prowled about, incredibly lifelike. I could sense the fire mana roiling within them.


    ¡°Well, it was only a matter of time before she picked a fight she couldn¡¯t win,¡± the man whistled, an imitation of a smile stretching onto his face. His teeth were bright and glistening like fangs poised to bite. ¡°Oh, dear sister, I¡¯ll tell our brother you tried your best.¡±


    The man turned to me. ¡°Can¡¯t forget about you, though!¡± he said, striding forward. His cocky attitude felt familiar somehow, but I couldn¡¯t place it. My mind was working at a hundred miles an hour, trying to assess this new threat. Could I fight? With my mana so low and my body already wounded, I wasn¡¯t sure how much of a struggle I could actually put up.


    Was escape an option? A flick of my eyes told me that the mist spell was still up. What was taking them so long?


    ¡°You know, Toren,¡± the man said, speaking my name with amused familiarity, ¡°Kael really wanted you for herself tonight. She said she¡¯d slit my throat in my sleep if I interfered.¡± He gestured back to the corpse. ¡°I didn¡¯t interfere.¡±


    I could practically feel his smile like a physical force. ¡°You let your sister die?¡± I asked, thrown for a loop by his statement. This man was one of the Joans?


    He stopped ten feet or so from me. ¡°You killed her,¡± he said nonchalantly. ¡°You were stronger than her. She challenged somebody she shouldn¡¯t have. Also, Kael got rid of allll of our patrols. The vindictive bitch wanted to fight you alone. She was right about one thing, though.¡±


    My eyes jumped from his catlike summons and back to him. They had moved to flank me, slowly creeping in from both sides.


    ¡°You survived the trap we set. I thought you¡¯d burn like a matchstick. Shows what I know!¡±


    The man¡¯s jovial demeanor kept me off balance. But no matter how friendly he was acting, I couldn¡¯t let myself be surrounded. ¡°So you¡¯re going to kill me? Prove yourself stronger somehow by fighting a weakened opponent?¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°You know something, Toren?¡± He cracked his knuckles, saying my name as if we were old friends. Then he flared his mana. I felt it press against me from all sides, making my breath hitch. He was probably as powerful as his sister had been.


    I needed to regroup, make it back to the¡ª


    My planning was cut short as a fist rocketed toward my jaw. I clumsily slipped the punch, trying to shift and attack, but I felt something sharp and hot clamp down on my leg.


    Looking down, I saw the construct of solid fire sink its teeth into my leg. I screamed as it bit down, sinking jaws into my shin, then pulled me off balance. Another fist came from below, thundering right into my kidney. I crumpled, the pain the final straw on a long list of wear and tear I¡¯d put my body through.


    No, I thought to myself desperately. Get up! Don¡¯t let him kill you!


    The man knelt down, looking at me as I slowly faded in and out of consciousness. ¡°My siblings? They like to hide what we are. Wear their masks, whether that be of cloth or courtesy.¡± The Joan looked back at the corpse of his sister. ¡°Well, sibling singular. But me?¡± He smiled toothily. ¡°I know I¡¯m a monster. It¡¯s a shame you¡¯ll have to learn that personally.¡±


    His next punch knocked me from consciousness.

 Chapter 41: Captured

    Naereni


    My dagger cut deeply into the side of the water mage¡¯s abdomen, spraying blood and making her scream in fear and pain. Before she could locate me, I slipped back into the mist, letting it obscure my position and hide me from her watching eyes.


    ¡°No!¡± the mage screamed, no small amount of terror in her voice. Her shield of ice was tough: I could only break through it in the weaker links of her armor, but those took time and precision to target. Which was why I was strafing her constantly, jumping in when her back was turned to carve more and more cuts.


    Most of the other mages had been taken down swiftly by Hofal and me, but there were a couple of stragglers that held on longer than I would¡¯ve liked. After Karsien, Wade, and I met up with Hofal after destroying the warehouses, he told us about our newest member¡¯s brash rush to the distillery.


    It would be nice if Karsien would¡¯ve actually helped, I thought with irritation. The man had broken off from the group shortly after Hofal told us about Toren¡¯s stupid idea. I could understand Wade keeping to the sidelines: he wasn¡¯t a combat mage. But Toren should¡¯ve thought this through! Rushing in alone?


    Though it seemed his hunch was correct, I thought with a shiver, but not from the cold around me. I¡¯d seen the plume of that explosion from several blocks away. The young striker had been surrounded and getting the beatdown of his life when we¡¯d finally intervened. The implications of that were clear: the Joans were waiting for us.


    The brown-haired shield waved her wand frantically, calling up another shell of ice. This time it covered her in a dome, keeping her sealed off from the rest of the battle.


    I huffed in the shadows, spinning my knife in my hand. That would be irritating to break through. I could wait for the woman to collapse from her wounds, but I didn¡¯t know if there would be enough time for that.


    A wall of earth erupted from nearby, rising ten feet in the air. It was covered in intricate arches and detail, making the otherwise bland slab of rock an artful brick. It rose above the mist, punching through like a spike. Then it began to shift, falling forward toward the dome of ice.


    Hofal, you just saved me a lot of time, I thought wryly as the slab of earth impacted the dome. The ice shattered, blown apart by the force of a ton of stone. Not wasting the opening I was given, I funneled more mana through my crest, enhancing my speed and driving me forward. The mist was starting to dissipate; Karsien¡¯s spell had lasted longer than expected. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The water shield turned as I jumped over wayward chunks of ice and stone, weaving with my enhanced sense of balance. Her face was a mask of shock and her arms visibly shook from exhaustion. Before she could respond to my assault, however, my ice-coated fist impacted her temple, causing her to crumple where she stood.


    I skidded to a halt, turning on my feet to meet Hofal¡¯s gaze. He had a few cuts over his body, but the middle-aged man looked fine. ¡°Was that the last of them?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Pretty sure it was, except for that lightning woman,¡± the man said, fumbling in his pockets for a cigar. He really needed to break that habit. ¡°Toren¡¯s probably gonna need our help, though.¡±


    I remembered the flash of speed and power Toren had displayed as he rushed the woman cloaked in electricity. In the brief instances I¡¯d caught sight of his battle before they left the mist, he¡¯d been fighting with a jaw-dropping level of precision and force. The woman had been doing all she could just to hold on.


    ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± I asked, letting my ice weapons dissolve. ¡°It looked like he had everything handled. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen a mage move so fast.¡±


    Hofal lit up his cigar, then moved toward the edge of the mist. ¡°I should¡¯ve kept trying to follow him here,¡± the old shield said, a bit of regret in his tone. ¡°Toren said something was off, and I sensed it too. But I couldn¡¯t keep up with him.¡±


    I followed after at a light jog, conserving what mana I had left. ¡°He should¡¯ve stayed with you. He had his orders,¡± I replied, more than a bit annoyed at our newest member¡¯s reckless actions. That was my job. ¡°I don¡¯t think that explosion was the distillery, though.¡±


    ¡°It couldn¡¯t have been,¡± Hofal replied as we exited the mist.


    The sight that revealed itself to us made me freeze. There was a body lying in a pool of blood, still in death. From the distance I was at, I couldn¡¯t make out much of the corpse except it was clothed all in black.


    Toren?! I thought with a spike of worry. Had we been too late?


    But what I noticed next caused my anxiety to ratchet up another notch. No, the body wasn¡¯t Toren¡¯s. Those were the remains of the lightning striker.


    Another man held Toren¡¯s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. It was covered in bruises and blood, and a vivid tattoo of chains wound up along Toren¡¯s left arm. It dangled limply, but a slight rise and fall of his chest told me he was still breathing.


    Is that why he keeps it covered? A subconscious part of me wondered. To hide the tattoo?


    I immediately summoned my ice daggers again, getting ready to rush this man. A few beasts made entirely of fire circled him like predators, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. ¡°You!¡± I called. ¡°Put the body down, and I might leave your face intact!¡±


    The man slowly turned to face me, revealing a mop of sandy blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. A leisurely smile adorned his face, which made me feel extremely uneasy.


    Hofal moved in beside me, but he didn¡¯t raise his weapons. Something was off about the movement. Under Hofal¡¯s mask, his eyes were wide. ¡°Flint?!¡± he said, surprise in his voice. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    The man cocked his head, looking Hofal up and down. ¡°Ah, Hofal, was it? I remember you. I should¡¯ve guessed you were with these fools.¡±


    The way he said the word fools caused me to shift. Hofal seemed to know the man: was he an enemy? He was holding Toren¡¯s body, though.


    ¡°The last time I saw you was in the Relictombs,¡± Hofal said slowly, tightening his grip on his axe and shield. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    The catlike beasts of fire started to fan out after that question. Hofal finally settled into a combat stance, wary of their attack.


    ¡°Tell me, how¡¯s Karsien doing these days?¡± the man asked, ignoring Hofal¡¯s earlier question and stalking to the side. Toren was still limp on his shoulder.


    ¡°Put down the kid and I might tell you,¡± Hofal replied. ¡°For old ascending partner¡¯s sakes.¡±


    The man snickered. ¡°He didn¡¯t tell you, did he? About what happened that day?¡±


    I shifted nervously. I didn¡¯t know what Hofal and the man¨CFlint¨C were talking about, but Toren was my priority. I couldn¡¯t risk attacking while Flint held him, though. I¡¯d have to make an opening somehow.


    Hofal went stiff. ¡°What do you mean, Flint?¡±


    The man shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. When you see that Rat again, tell him Dornar Joan sends his regards,¡± he said, turning around with a smile. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯ll tell him myself when we meet again.¡±


    Then a form blurred from the alleyway toward Flint. They leveraged a shortsword, swinging it at Flint¡¯s legs. The man danced backward, surprisingly graceful while carrying a body on one shoulder.


    A clone coalesced next to Karsien¡¯s body, launching itself to continue the attack. One of the catlike fire beasts lunged to intercept, then glowed an ominous orange. It burst apart in an explosion, wiping both it and the clone away in a burst of steam.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m right here, Dornar,¡± Karsien said, his normal guile in place. ¡°And I think you¡¯re going to put that boy down and have a nice reunion with me. We can talk about old times!¡±


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    ¡°No can do, Kars,¡± Flint said mockingly, another feline of fire shimmering into existence to replace the one he¡¯d lost. ¡°I get that you¡¯ve been dying to meet me again, but I¡¯ll get to you eventually. The boss man wants this boy, and you¡¯re not part of the deal yet.¡±


    Karsien didn¡¯t exchange another quip, rushing Flint as he threw out his mist spell. Their fight resumed inside the sense-dampening fog.


    I started to rush forward, intent on helping my teacher. I didn¡¯t know much about that Flint man, but I wouldn¡¯t let Karsien fight alone.


    A firm grip on my shoulder stopped me. I turned around, surprised to see Hofal there.


    ¡°You can¡¯t go alone,¡± he said, stepping forward. ¡°Flint is dangerous, Naereni. In a way you wouldn¡¯t believe. We went on a few ascents together: him, Karsien, and me. He¡¯s unpredictable.¡±


    I nodded, a bit disturbed by Hofal¡¯s seriousness. He was usually laid back, always ready to offer advice or a shoulder to lean on. But now, I could see a spark of the ascender he used to be shining through, scanning over a threat and determining its weaknesses.


    Before the two of us could step forward, however, a burst of wind blew away the fog. I covered my eyes with my forearm, digging my boots into the ground so I wouldn¡¯t be pushed off balance.


    When the gale died down, Karsien¡¯s mist had been blown away. Flint was covered in tiny cuts, some of them leaking a bit of blood. Despite the injuries, he was smiling. Toren was still over his shoulder.


    Karsien himself stood near the edge of a building, staring harshly at the man. He looked none the worse for wear, but something about Flint made me uneasy. I moved to stand next to my leader.


    ¡°Poison, Kars? Really?¡± Flint asked, inspecting one of the cuts on his arm. ¡°I expected better than that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s truly unfortunate, Dornar, but you¡¯ll be dead in fifteen minutes,¡± Karsien said, but his usual charm was laced with something more angry. ¡°I hope you¡¯ve written your will. Dotted your I¡¯s and crossed your t¡¯s, because you¡¯ll be meeting with the High Sovereign soon.¡± Karsien flourished his shortsword. ¡°I¡¯ve waited too long for this.¡±


    ¡°If only it was so simple,¡± Flint sighed. ¡°You should know a poison that weak won¡¯t affect me in the slightest. You should¡¯ve used something with more kick. Try Hades Serpent venom, maybe! I haven¡¯t built an immunity to that yet. But while I would love to stay and chat about how you discovered my identity, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll have to leave you here. You¡¯re going to have to wait a bit longer, old pal.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere,¡± I said, tightening my grip on my daggers. If what Karsien said was true, then we¡¯d be able to get Toren back soon. Flint, who was apparently Dornar Joan, implied he was immune to poison, but he was also running. That couldn¡¯t be the full story.


    The man shook his head. ¡°So impatient. If you want a boy to save, then I¡¯ll happily provide you with another option.¡±


    Something bright moved on a nearby rooftop, drawing my eye.


    I gasped as it revealed itself. One of the feline fire constructs was there, perched on the edge of the rooftop. It held its jaw over the edge, staring down at us emptily.


    And in its mouth was Wade. He was battered and bruised, and somehow he¡¯d lost his glasses. He was being held by the back of his coat, which somehow wasn¡¯t burning from the fiery jaws that held it fast. He was clearly unconscious.


    My heart shuddered.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to choose one,¡± I heard Flint say, though it was distant. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll make a wise decision, Kars. You always were able to choose the greater good.¡±


    I took a step toward the building Wade was being dangled over, mana filtering to my crest to help me move. I could catch him if I was fast enough. I could do it. I needed to do it.


    The creature¡¯s grip loosened slightly, causing Wade to slip down a bit. ¡°Nah, ah ah!¡± Flint said, causing my head to snap to him. ¡°While I applaud your decision-making skills, young lady, you¡¯ll have to wait a minute!¡±


    The tension rose as I glared at the man. He¡¯d found Wade somehow and hurt him. That alone made a vicious hate gnaw at my insides.


    I spared a glance at Karsien. I couldn¡¯t see under his mask, but there was clear conflict warring in his stance. He wanted to rush Flint and rip out his throat, but that would endanger Wade. I felt the selfish urge to tell Karsien to back off. If he did, maybe Wade would be let free.


    Flint turned on his heel, Toren¡¯s body still slung over his shoulder. I felt a wave of guilt as I realized I¡¯d subconsciously prioritized Wade over Toren, but that was quickly consumed by my worry and fear once again.


    Karsien watched the man go, standing ramrod straight and his teeth gnashing almost audibly. Flint¡¯s footsteps sounded dreadfully loud in the quiet night, the soles of his boots echoing on stone. When Flint turned a corner out of sight, I dashed to the side.


    The fire construct several stories up finally dissipated, its connection to its master weakened by the distance. As the jaws holding Wade quickly dispersed, he began to fall.


    Come on, come on! I pumped my legs, using all the mana I had left to power my crest.


    I slid on my knees, conjuring ice under them to allow me to slide better. I held out my arms, catching the young sentry just in time. I skidded into the wall, impacting my shoulder with a grunt, but Wade was safe in my arms.


    I checked him over with frantic eyes, noting the bruises along his face and body. I didn¡¯t know where his glasses had gone. His eyes fluttered slightly.


    He shifted slightly in my arms. ¡°Naereni?¡± he said in a slurred voice.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± I said, feeling a lump in my throat.


    ¡°You¡¯re cold,¡± he said, clearly still dazed from being knocked out.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± I replied, hugging him closer.


    ¡°They knew we¡¯d attack,¡± Wade said, slightly slurring his speech. ¡°He was waiting for me. Same man who went to the meetings.¡± Was the damage worse than I thought? I quickly ran a hand over his head, checking for a bump or something. He pushed my arms away, then tried to stand. I reluctantly let him go, missing the warmth of his body. ¡°Dornar. Dornar Joan somehow figured out he was being spied on.¡±


    He managed to get his feet under him, though not without some help. ¡°They tricked us,¡± he said, his words coming more clearly. His eyes were coming back into focus, though he wouldn¡¯t be able to see well without his glasses. ¡°They set a trap over here, rigging a bomb to blow. My rats heard about it as I got here, but Toren tripped the fuse before we all could get close.¡±


    I put the puzzle pieces together at last. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have survived that blast,¡± I said numbly. ¡°Only Toren could¡¯ve gotten away unscathed.¡±


    Or maybe Karsien. But by springing the trap early, Toren might¡¯ve saved all of our lives.


    ¡°We let him get captured,¡± I said with horror. ¡°He was taken away by that Flint!¡±


    Karsien turned on his feet, glaring at a nearby alleyway. ¡°Come out already,¡± he said with restrained calm. ¡°I can sense you there, you know. While I indulge in voyeurism every now and then, it¡¯s poor form to do it with all your friends involved.¡±


    Several mages stepped from the shadows. I had been so distracted by Wade¡¯s conundrum that I hadn¡¯t even noticed their presence, but Karsien had.


    At their front was an older man, his dark hair streaked with gray. He was slightly short and wore loose-fitting battlerobes. In his hand was a staff that swirled with mana, though it looked like a passive effect rather than a charged spell.


    Behind him was a man in full armor, standing resolutely with a spear held against his shoulder. That one had the easy confidence of a leader, which made me surprised he wasn¡¯t in the front.


    Five other mages were arrayed behind them, including one who looked incredibly disgruntled. If these people were all combat mages, they had twice our number, and both Hofal and I were slightly tired from our last fight.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the lead mage said. ¡°I assume you¡¯re the one they call the Rat?¡±


    Karsien shifted his stance, preparing to face these new men. Were they enemies? Usually, when we were identified, we were attacked first. ¡°I have the pleasure of going by that moniker,¡± Karsien replied, bowing slightly. ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have yours.¡±


    The mage looked past Karsien at Hofal, Wade, and me. ¡°My name is Aban,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s probably not relevant to you at all, but I¡¯ve learned it¡¯s always best to introduce yourself when there¡¯s a chance of danger.¡± He gestured behind him. ¡°My compatriots and I all have a common goal in mind.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right to think we¡¯re dangerous,¡± I said, shifting to stand in front of Wade. The young man looked really confused.


    ¡°It¡¯s not you that I fear,¡± Aban replied, looking at me pointedly. ¡°But Blood Joan.¡±


    That took me aback. ¡°What?¡±


    Wade peeked out from my side. ¡°Aban the Clarwood Guide?¡± he said, peering in the man¡¯s general direction.


    He appeared surprised by Wade calling him out. ¡°You know me?¡±


    Wade squinted. ¡°You¡¯ve got the record for most successful expeditions into the Clarwood Forest, as well as having a very cheap price to hire. You¡¯re kind of famous here.¡±


    I¡¯d never heard of him, I thought a bit sourly. Wade read too many books.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m flattered you¡¯ve heard of me,¡± he said, brushing back his hair. ¡°But we¡¯ve got more important things to discuss.¡±


    ¡°Blood Joan,¡± Karsien said, shifting to stand in front of our group. ¡°You want to take them down.¡±


    Aban shook his head. ¡°Not exactly,¡± he said. ¡°You see, we owe a debt,¡± he said, gesturing to the men behind him, ¡°To Toren of Named Blood Daen. For all that I am famous for my expeditions, young mage, I would have perished in that forest if not for the actions of ¡®Dusk.¡¯¡±


    ¡°He saved my life,¡± the spearman behind Aban said. ¡°I was poisoned. He helped me fight it off and get me out of that forest, even though I was only dead weight.¡±


    I blinked, exchanging a look with Wade. Or at least we tried to. It was hard when he couldn¡¯t see a foot in front of his face.


    ¡°The point being, Company of the Rat,¡± Aban said, gesturing to the five mages behind him, ¡°Is that we got here too late. But with a few extra hands¡­¡±


    Karsien considered for a moment, then opened his mouth to reply.

 Chapter 42: Will

    Toren Daen


    My heart pounded in my skull as I slowly came to consciousness, jostled continuously by somebody moving. I squirmed in discomfort, which rewarded me with sharp pain coursing all over my body.


    I groaned, feeling the bruises and wounds I had all over. My shin, shoulder, and ribs hurt especially. My hands were bound awkwardly behind my back, which stretched out my wounded shoulder in a very unpleasant way.


    I watched the ground pass by beneath me. I was moving at a slow pace; my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light.


    ¡°Ah, awake already, are we?¡± someone said. Recognizing the voice, my confusion vanished in the face of fear. It was the man who had shown up right after my fight with Kaelan Joan. I was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, and he was whistling a tune as he moved.


    He hopped over a rock, causing my jaw to smack against his back.


    ¡°You came back faster than most people do!¡± he said cheerily. ¡°Usually they only wake up when we¡¯re about to work on them. Shame, that. There¡¯s this buildup of tension that¡¯s entirely lost when they just sleep through their delivery.¡±


    The metal attached to my wrists was cold and sterile. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d be able to break my shackles, but I knew my best chance of escape was before we actually reached our destination.


    ¡°Where are you taking me?¡± I asked, hoping my fear wasn¡¯t audible in my voice. I didn¡¯t want to show weakness to this man.


    ¡°Take a guess, my friend,¡± the man said, turning. Trailing behind me was a feline beast made entirely of fire. Its eyes were unnervingly empty, staring back without intelligence. It left no scorch marks as it walked.


    And I couldn¡¯t sense the fire mana within. Actually, I couldn¡¯t sense mana at all: my hearing, which was usually hyper-acute, was so dull as to be nonexistent. My body felt weaker than before, and each laborious breath sent undulled pain through my body.


    I can¡¯t use my mana, I realized, panic flaring up. It was still there. I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to even feel any mana if the phoenix feather in my core wasn¡¯t constantly outputting some. But even that I could only grasp a trickle of it before my sense of it cut off, vanishing like it was never there.


    ¡°My mana,¡± I said aloud, real fear in my voice. I didn¡¯t think there was any point in trying to hide it anymore.


    ¡°Mana suppression shackles,¡± my captor provided cheerily. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to do anything with those on.¡±


    My heart began to thunder in my chest. I tried to think over my options: I couldn¡¯t fight this man. Could I escape? The light around me made me think I was inside some sort of building. He wanted me alive, but would he leave me unhurt?


    I wriggled, trying to get a better view of where I¡¯d passed through. I was able to make out the length of a hallway before a strike to my wounded shin made me cry out.


    ¡°No looking, little man,¡± my captor said as if he was scolding a dog. ¡°Can¡¯t have you doing that.¡±


    I was thinking as fast as I could, going over all I knew about the Joans. I was probably in some sort of hideout. Was I going to be tortured? Killed? I was drenched in sweat from my previous battle, but I was sure another wave of perspiration had broken out onto my skin.


    My captor stopped and then knocked on a door. I felt tempted to keep looking around to try to discern more information about where I¡¯d been taken, by my captor must have somehow sensed my intent. He dug a thumb into my wounded shoulder, causing me to grunt in pain.


    Without another moment to waste, my captor flung open the door. He strode in with a notable strut, each movement jostling me on his shoulder.


    ¡°You have him, Dornar?¡± I heard a crisp voice ask.


    I felt a hand wrap around my throat, causing me to thrash weakly. It hoisted me up, then flung me down.


    With my hands bound behind my back, I was unable to break my own fall. My nose hit the hardwood with a painful crunch, causing me to see stars. Blood pooled under my face from my broken nose, and I had to wriggle to get my knees under me. I groaned.


    ¡°That¡¯s him, brother! Though I¡¯m afraid dear old Kael won¡¯t be joining us. She bit off more than she could chew.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s dead, then?¡± that sharp voice asked with rising anger.


    ¡°Unfortunately. I tried to get to her as she fought, but I was too far away to reach them in time. Truly a pity.¡±


    I finally got myself situated enough to try and raise my torso, but before I could I felt a hand grasping at my hair from the front. Then my face was slammed back into the wood, my forehead cracking against the floor.


    My vision went white with the pain, and I gasped as everything blurred. What had just¨C


    The same hand grasped my hair again, pulling my body up to face them. There was a long gash over my forehead now, leaking blood into my eyes. I had to blink through a curtain of red to see who was holding me captive, my vision hazy not just from the blood.


    They had sandy-blonde hair, the same as my previous captor. But this man had a bit of weight to his face that came from excess. My brain was still muddled from being slammed into the wood twice, but I could make out the contempt on his face. ¡°Do you know who I am, Daen?¡± they asked, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.


    I recognized the sandy hair. A Joan.


    I spat in his face. My saliva, red from blood, landed right between his eyes.


    The man growled in anger, then punched me in the stomach. Unprotected by mana, my body was far from ready to take the blow. I wheezed out, toppling backward as the air was thrust from my body. Pain rang anew as my broken ribs creaked.


    ¡°I am Lawrent Joan, you rat,¡± the paunchy man said from above me. ¡°And you¡¯ve dared to do so much to my family. You disgraced the lords of Fiachra by existing.¡±


    Through the haze of my mind, I connected a few of the dots. Lawrent Joan, head of Blood Joan. That meant the person who had captured me was probably Dornar Joan. He was dressed in lavish yellows and reds, the colors of Blood Joan. Even to my untrained eye, I recognized the expensive cut.


    ¡°And you hurt me!¡± another voice, young and scratchy, called out. ¡°I¡¯m going to make you pay for that!¡±


    I saw the kick coming this time. I tried to turn slightly, attempting to roll with the blow. It hit me on my good shoulder, knocking me over and certainly causing a bruise. I grunted but didn¡¯t give them the satisfaction of a scream.


    I hated Blood Joan so, so much. I would¡¯ve thought that with the death of Kaelan Joan, my contempt would have sputtered out. I completed my vengeance; everyone who I wanted dead was dead. The debt had been paid.


    But with each blow these men laid upon me, I felt that rage grow.


    ¡°Lawris, enough!¡± Lawrent snapped, a crackle of electricity punctuating his words. ¡°He¡¯ll get what he deserves. I¡¯ve waited too long for this, and you will not ruin this with your ineptitude!¡±


    ¡°But Father¨C¡±


    ¡°Quiet, you dolt!¡±


    I coughed weakly, a bit of blood that had run down my throat being expelled. I really didn¡¯t see a good way out of this. Considering my face was having an intimate moment with the floorboards, I wasn¡¯t able to see much of anything period.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget his ring, brother!¡± Dornar said from above. ¡°There¡¯s not much inside, though. But it¡¯s your spoils.¡±


    And my blood ran cold. My dimension ring. Where I stored everything I owned.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Including my notebook on The Beginning After the End.


    My breathing ratcheted up as I began to think over and over about the hell this world might face if that knowledge got out. It was ciphered, but would it hold up under the scrutiny of the Sovereigns?


    Considering how my breath shuddered, I knew the answer. Each quickened inhale sent sharp, agonizing pain through my ribs. But the fear¡­ the fear drowned it out.


    ¡°Oh?¡± I heard Dornar say from above me. ¡°Brother, I think the Rat doesn¡¯t want you looking through his dimension ring,¡± he chuckled. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I was hauled back to my knees. Lawrent Joan looked into my eyes once more, searching for something.


    He must¡¯ve found what he was looking for because he smiled nastily. ¡°That ring has something, Dornar,¡± he said fingering my dimension ring. When he saw how my eyes widened at the sight, he laughed horribly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I said weakly. These men were monsters. But the Vritra could do so much worse to the world. ¡°Don¡¯t let them have it,¡± I said through bloodied lips, feeling delirious from the combined weight of my exhaustion and multiple head blows. ¡°They¡¯ll ruin this world!¡±


    I took another blow to my side, causing me to fall backward with a painful cough. I was getting a layout of the room in the worst way possible: by having my view forcibly changed by punches and kicks.


    Lawrent was wearing my dimension ring, and from the glazed look in his eyes, he was inspecting the contents. In a minute, he withdrew the notebook.


    ¡°Such a little thing, to cause you so much fear,¡± the man mocked, watching my reactions.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what that will do,¡± I challenged. The fear was raw in my voice now. By any gods that existed in this world, that book couldn¡¯t stay in the hands of the Joans. I didn¡¯t want to believe I¡¯d been brought to this world only to doom it all with my capture.


    Lawrent tossed the book to the side, causing his son Lawris to haphazardly catch it. ¡°I¡¯m going to make you pay, Daen, as my father should have,¡± he said. ¡°Because of his incompetence, Blood Joan has lost more than it ever should have. A beaten dog doesn¡¯t bite back against its owners. But with your death, that will be set right. No more rabid mutts.¡±


    Lawrent walked back to his desk, which was made of furnished clarwood. A tall window stretched behind him, letting in faint rays of moonlight. He opened a drawer in his desk, retrieving a couple of items.


    But my eyes were drawn to a quill that hovered over a piece of parchment on Lawrent Joan¡¯s desk as if held by an invisible hand. It shuddered sometimes, then bobbed in the air this way and that.


    Staring at it caused an itch in my skull; like there was something on the tip of my tongue that I couldn¡¯t quite remember. I felt a bit of my current predicament fade into the background of my mind. Trying to figure this out was more difficult than trying to catch a receding dream; a grasp on the fading bits and pieces was not enough.


    ¡°But before you die, you will suffer,¡± he said, hefting something in the air. It was a large syringe, filled with a light green substance that almost seemed to glow. The moonlight from behind the window streamed through it, casting mutated, writhing shadows. It looked familiar somehow. ¡°Do you know what this is, Rat?¡±


    I stared at the liquid, but whatever torture method these men had concocted paled in comparison to what might happen if my journal was released. I had trouble feeling greater dread in the face of that.


    Lawrent flicked the tip of the needle, which sprayed a tiny droplet of liquid. ¡°This is our best product,¡± he said. ¡°The most refined batch we¡¯ve ever distilled. One drop of this, and you¡¯ll be in heaven.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know I could feel any more fear, but at his words, I went stiff as a board. That was blithe. The drug that ruined the lives of so many in East Fiachra.


    ¡°That¡¯s how it works for unads, at least. But when a mage takes a drop, it reacts with the mana inside of them, some of the drug mutating back into the prime ingredient.¡±


    I finally realized what made the drug look so familiar. It was the same vibrant green as the acidic liquid used by acidbeam hornets.


    I felt myself grow sick at the realization, but there was no way for me to escape. I tried to wriggle backward as Lawrent Joan stalked forward, a predatory gleam in his eyes.


    No, no, no, I thought as I stared at the needle. I tried to strengthen my body, but my mana was sealed, refusing to respond to my desperate pleas for help. I pushed and pushed and pushed, but my power failed me, refusing me like an uncaring parent.


    The head of the Joans laid a meaty hand on my shoulder, pulling me up. The shackles dug painfully into my hands, and the blood dripping down my eyes made the moon behind Lawrent red as blood. I breathed in quick bursts, never taking my eyes off the needlepoint.


    ¡°You know something, Daen?¡± Lawrent said maliciously, his heavy hand on my shoulder. ¡°They say that once the acid gets to the mana core, it causes pain enough to drive a man mad. I heard that this was a prime torture method the High Sovereign himself employed on the unwilling within Taegrin Caelum.¡±


    The needle slowly lowered toward my sternum. I struggled and thrashed, gnashing and spitting at the man, but he held me with an iron grip. ¡°But I think I¡¯ll skip the waiting and inject it right into your core,¡± he said with a terrible grin.


    The needlepoint pressed against my sternum, the little bit of the drug that came in contact sizzling there. I braced for hell.


    An explosion rocked the building, throwing me to the side and causing the furniture to rumble. The needle flew from Lawrent Joan¡¯s hands, crashing against the floor. The noble himself stumbled backward as the floor shook.


    ¡°What in the High Sovereign¡¯s name?!¡± Lawrent cried, looking about. He and Dornar moved to the door, peering out. Lawris looked petrified for a moment before his eyes landed on the needle.


    The hovering quill had been knocked from the desk. No, that wasn¡¯t quite right: there was a small metal cube that had been pushed over, and whenever that cube bounced on the floor, the quill moved in sync with it, as if bound by invisible strings. But as Lawrent yelled, the quill began to move independently of the dark metal cube, drawing itself across the floor in an attempt to write something.


    It was some sort of telekinetic artifact.


    I stared at the quill, finally grasping what it was I had been missing. The feather was moved by the mana relative to the cube, the ambient mana simultaneously making way for the feather and supporting it along. There was a touch of gravity magic coursing through it all as well, carrying the feather rigidly.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lawris Joan scrambling for the syringe. Another explosion thundered through the building, sending the quill¨Cand the syringe¨Ctumbling.


    But I understood now. I knew how it was held aloft, finally put together the pieces. It was as if lightning flashed in my mind, each stroke of electricity connecting the dots inside my skull. That feather was held aloft by true telekinesis rather than a constant push or pull. And then I wondered¡­ could I do something like that?


    I felt a warmth from my lower back pulsing inward, my telekinetic rune pushing mana to my core despite the shackles. It was overwhelming, scouring away remaining impurities and revealing the yellow beneath. The cracks that ran through the length of my light orange core shone, and then the outer shell flaked away like dry skin, the orange dissolving into motes of energy. My crest, now an emblem from greater understanding, was forcefully purifying my core in the process of changing.


    My dark yellow core pulsed mana outward, the explosion of purification fighting against the suppression from the shackles.


    ¡°Contractor!¡± a voice crashed through my head, powerful and sonorous. ¡°Listen to me! You must press outward now! Force apart your bindings!¡±


    Feeling drunk from the flare of power, I failed to recognize the voice. It was an intoxicating sensation, not dissimilar to an adrenaline high. My emblem filtered knowledge into my brain, telling me of its purpose. I could truly grasp things now, holding and shifting them through this world. What greater strength was that? To move the world with your mind?


    But as soon as the power came, it began to fade, the mana suppression shackles I wore compressing my senses back into myself. The outburst of purified mana was losing, quickly being forced back into confinement.


    ¡°Toren Daen!¡± the voice called again, pulling at my thoughts with an almost physical force. ¡°Act! Do not waste this opportunity!¡±


    That voice in my head¨Cnot my own, but warm and familiar¨Cpulled me back into the present. I felt my urgency renew, the fading motes of energy like salt in an ocean. I grasped mana from my core, using it to strengthen my body. It was purer and denser than it had been just an hour before, the change from orange to yellow both qualitative and quantitative. My body¨Cweak and battered from a nighttime of fighting, lit up with superhuman strength once more.


    I pressed outward with a roar, the metal around my wrists creaking. I thought of my previous life, of Norgan, and of the community I had found in this new world. I would not be held by mere metal!


    The shackles binding me shattered, exploding in all directions with a spray of steel. Lawris, who had been crawling toward my body with the syringe in hand, no doubt planning to jam it into my chest, was hit by one of the stray metal shards in the leg, causing him to scream.


    Dornar and Lawrent whirled on their feet, both preparing spells, but they froze in place as I slowly pulled myself to my feet.


    My leg hurt like the devil, the place where the fire construct had bitten me earlier making it tender. My body was cut and bruised in a dozen different places and I had more than one broken bone.


    But as the warm comfort of a second mind enveloped me, I let myself sink deeper into its embrace. I imagined this was what a child felt in the womb; enclosed by utter warmth and surety. I was home. The Phoenix Will in my core rose up in triumph, threading itself through my body.


    I opened my eyes. The moon cast silver light over me through the window, though it was now shattered by the rocking force of the second explosion. The tattoo on my left arm began to glow with a powerful red aura, seeming to float above my skin. There was warmth burning on my cheeks, but it was the caress of a mother¡¯s touch. A promise that I was not alone. I felt a single tear streak through the blood that caked my face.


    ¡°You stand unbroken,¡± Lady Dawn said to me in my mind, relief and reassurance flooding over our bond. It was pure emotion, like an untapped mountain spring. ¡°Show them who we are, Toren Daen.¡±


    And as I stared at the three mages in the room, I knew my power. I saw the fire burning brightly in their chests, thumping erratically.


    And I knew their fear.

 Chapter 43: Rescue

    Naereni


    I watched the Joan Estate from the trees, noting how there appeared to be fewer men on patrol than the last time I came here. I was standing outside their perimeter, staring in through their iron gates. The grounds were ominously quiet, not even crickets chirping to alert us of life.


    Karsien had elected to work with these renegade mages in saving Toren, but our goals were not just one. After all, the distillery wasn¡¯t destroyed yet.


    But there was a spark of hope where before I felt despair. Our number had more than doubled from these new mages. Most of the group was composed of shields, so we would be able to defend from far more than we could put out.


    Wade stepped up to the fence, a couple of rats crowding around his feet. They had slowly joined him as we ran over here, their little feet keeping up with our group surprisingly well. His light brown hair was a mess from the beating he¡¯d received, and he hadn¡¯t managed to find a new pair of glasses.


    Karsien squinted through the bars, his mask hiding what he thought. Then he turned to our new companions. ¡°We¡¯ve got two goals, here: find Toren, and destroy the blithe distillery,¡± he said.


    I heard one of the shields grunt. He had a slight paunch, but I suspected if he ever smiled he would look jolly. But the man had a look on his face as if he was constipated. ¡°Didn¡¯t sign up to help the Joans make drugs,¡± he said. ¡°Dusk¡¯s my priority, but I¡¯ll help where I can.¡±


    There were words of agreement from the other mages. I¡¯d learned that they were all part of the Clarwood Forest expedition which Toren saved. Apparently, the realization that the acidbeam paper they¡¯d risked their lives to obtain was being used as a pleasure drug did not sit well with them.


    Additionally, the fact that their benefactor was being held captive by those very employers was enough to make them turn.


    ¡°Do you have a plan to locate either Dusk or the distillery? I¡¯m sure the distillery was moved somewhere beneath the estate from what I heard in my last few days working for the Joans, but I don¡¯t know anything specific enough,¡± Aban said, looking at Karsien meaningfully.


    ¡°That¡¯s where our sentry comes in,¡± Karsien said, gesturing to Wade. ¡°He¡¯s scouted this place before, so it¡¯ll take less time. We¡¯ll know everything about it soon.¡±


    Wade blinked as the attention of everybody turned to him. After a moment, he began to speak, holding his chin upright even though he wasn¡¯t facing the audience; off by perhaps thirty degrees. ¡°My familiars can report what they see back to me,¡± he said. ¡°Even if I can¡¯t see very well right now, they can just fine.¡±


    A hand went up hesitantly, connected to the other sentry. ¡°I have a question,¡± he said. ¡°Do you get images back from your familiars, or do they communicate in a different way?¡±


    ¡°Images, but they have to return to me first,¡± Wade replied.


    ¡°Then I might have an idea¡­¡±


    ¡ª


    Wade¡¯s rats scampered off in twos and threes, bounding across the lawn toward the estate. I watched them go nervously, twirling an ice dagger in my hands.


    The other sentry was doing something with his mana, peering at the building with squinted eyes. My heart rate was noticeably above the norm, the nerves and tension of preparing for this battle making me think over everything I had done.


    Was I strong enough to actually attack this place? The last time I was here I was sent running away. It was my first big failure, and looking at the well-cared-for grounds made the familiar shame of being caught rise up again.


    ¡°You¡¯re ready for this, Naereni,¡± Hofal said from beside me. He was staring at the estate as well, his axe resting on his shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re one of the strongest women I know. You¡¯ve laid down enough blocks to make a wonderful structure. Now, all you need to do is affix that steeple,¡± he said, referencing one of his old stories.


    I peered over at him. He constantly radiated this ¡®wise old grandpa¡¯ energy that oftentimes got on my nerves, but this time it served to settle them. ¡°How many women do you actually know?¡± I asked in return, raising a brow.


    The man huffed. ¡°Back in my day¨C¡± he started, but he was cut off by the sentry.


    ¡°Guys?¡± he said, his gaze unfocused as he stared off into nothing. ¡°I found Dusk. He¡¯s being hauled along by that one psychopath toward Lawrent¡¯s study.¡±


    ¡°Which psychopath?¡± one of the shields asked. ¡°There¡¯s a few in that family.¡±


    ¡°Dornar,¡± he replied absently.


    One of Wade¡¯s rats scampered back, slipping through the bars and scampering up his shoulder. He looked down at it, then toward all of us. ¡°We¡¯ve got a hit,¡± he said. ¡°Traces of movement and hasty relocation of furniture on the lower levels of the estate. The rest of my rats have gone down further to confirm.¡±


    The other sentry broke out of his spellform, blinking his eyes rapidly as if adjusting to a different light. ¡°Want to give my idea a shot?¡± he asked.


    Wade squinted. ¡°You can try, but it might not be as simple as you think. Interacting with rat senses is¡­ weird.¡±


    The other sentry shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s worth a try,¡± he said. ¡°And it¡¯ll give everyone a good idea of what to expect.¡±


    After another moment, Karsien and I moved forward, as was discussed earlier. The sentry laid an arm on each of us, then Wade touched his back.


    ¡°Now, you might feel a bit disoriented at first,¡± he said, beginning to activate one of his spellforms. ¡°That¡¯s normal. Try not to panic when it hits you.¡±


    I could feel the mana transfer as it moved from Wade, through the sentry¡¯s rune, and into me. I had just enough time to think I don¡¯t panic before my mind was hit with a jumble of foreign sensations.


    Small feet, scrabbling over the stones. Fifty different scents, all converging at once. Cheese. Insect dropping. Another rat. Ignore, have to find path. Down and down and down, feet carrying. Sniff the air. Man walking by, not friendly. Hide in shadows. Dart past, aim for stairs. Lots of scuff marks.


    Death and disease downstairs. Want to stay away. Want to leave. Have to go. Have to find. Master promised cheese.


    I coughed as the sensations ceased, the experience of living as a rat very, very different from living as a Rat. It was like a dozen foreign understandings were shoved into my head. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns,¡± I cursed, rubbing at my forehead. ¡°You could¡¯ve warned me, Wade!¡±


    Wade shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I did. It takes a while to get used to. But does that mean it worked?¡±


    ¡°It did,¡± Karsien said, far less affected than me. ¡°We know the path to take from that rodent¡¯s memories.¡±


    The other sentry removed his hands. ¡°Normally I only share my own enhanced senses and vision, but I can share another person¡¯s if they touch me willingly. But I have to say, living as a rat is¡­ a lot different than what I expected.¡±


    He shook his head, then peered back at the estate. I felt mana flare as he activated his rune again, trying to scry Toren¡¯s location.


    Knowing the route to the basement did help my confidence. I knew where I had to go and what I had to do.


    ¡°You really do promise your rats cheese,¡± I said to Wade, who blushed in the low light. ¡°I said that as a joke!¡±


    The young librarian shrugged. ¡°They actually don¡¯t like cheese much. When I really want to motivate them, I give them apples. Adds extra incentive.¡±


    I chuckled, then leaned toward the young man. ¡°Give me an apple after this, and I¡¯ll do anything you want,¡± I whispered into his ear. They quickly went red all the way to the tips, making me smirk.


    Wade coughed, preparing to say something else, but then the sentry¡¯s voice cut me off, a note of audible panic suffusing it. ¡°You¡¯ve got to move!¡± he said, his unfocused eyes somehow containing a note of horror. ¡°Lawrent¡­ that insane bastard!¡±


    I paused in teasing Wade. ¡°What is it?!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got a syringe! He¡¯s going to inject Dusk with blithe!¡±


    Before the man had finished his sentence, I vaulted over the fence to the estate. My feet landed with a soft thump on the grass, then I bolted across the lawn. My mind was awhirl with the symptoms of blithe addiction. The yellow-green patches of skin, hair loss, and eventual death were horrible afflictions.


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    I remembered my father, crumpled in a ball on the floor, a needle in his arm. I remembered shaking the body, asking for him to wake up.


    I knew immediately the reason Lawrent Joan would inject another man with blithe. To force somebody under that horrible addiction, to make them a slave to your will, was perhaps the worst fate I could imagine.


    A second later, Karsien, Hofal, Vaelum, and Aban were running alongside me, each going in a mad dash for the manse. We all knew what was at stake.


    ¡°Hofal!¡± Karsien called as we neared the building. ¡°You¡¯re with me. We¡¯re aiming for the distillery! To destroy it!¡± He slid to the wall. ¡°Blithe is extremely flammable, and Toren is going to need every bit of distraction he can get!¡±


    Hofal nodded. He laid a hand against the wall, activating his wall spellform. The brick peeled away, allowing us all in. For once, Hofal¡¯s magic didn¡¯t have the extra detail and nice carvings etched into it.


    I wanted to protest immediately. I had waited for so long to destroy the Joans¡¯ drug factory. It was my purpose, to rid East Fiachra of that hellish substance.


    But no. My purpose wasn¡¯t just to rid the world of the drug. It was to give people another option; hope outside their empty addictions. And right now, Toren needed to be saved from that hell.


    Karsien looked at me right as we entered. We met eyes beneath our masks, and at that very moment, I realized something.


    He was giving me the lead on this. He was letting me take the fore. I nodded, feeling the weight of his expectations settle next to the rest of my thoughts.


    I would not fail Toren. And I would not fail Karsien.


    We split once we entered. Some alarms were already blaring, our intrusion not the most subtle. I ran with Vaelum and Aban, the striker and caster keeping up remarkably well with my speed runes.


    I entered a hallway with a skid, spying the staircase up to the top floor. It was lit by several lighting artifacts along the wall, highlighting the expensive red wallpaper. The floor was solid wood, which made getting traction for my run easy. I continued my dash toward the stairway, determination clear in my mind.


    And I barely ducked a strike aimed for my head, the sword seeming to manifest from one of the attaching hallways. I blocked a follow-up with a conjured buckler, but the attack knocked me back down the hall and shattered my icy construct.


    A man stepped out from a nearby room. He easily had a foot on me in height, and a sword was held leisurely in one hand. Scars ran up his arms, creating a grotesque image. His nose was slightly crooked from being broken one too many times.


    ¡°Well, look at this,¡± he said, his face alight with a hideous smile. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for a rematch,¡± the man said, shifting in his stance. He had a grin on his face as he stared me down in the low light, seeming to dismiss Aban and Vaelum behind me. ¡°And you¡¯ve delivered yourself right outside my door.¡±


    I knew this man. He was the leader of those who had cornered Hofal and me in an alleyway what felt like months ago. I looked at his nose again, recognizing the imprint of Hofal¡¯s shield.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have time for you,¡± I said, shifting slightly to try and get an opening to dash past him. Toren didn¡¯t have much time. ¡°Maybe schedule an appointment? The Rats are always ready for new customers.¡± I felt myself unconsciously eye the silver necklace around his neck.


    The man scoffed as more mages crowded in behind him, cutting off my route to the stairs. By the Sovereigns, I cursed internally.


    ¡°You won¡¯t get us by surprise this time,¡± he sneered, hefting his blade.


    One of the mages behind the man with scarred arms laughed slightly. ¡°Really, Aban? Joining with these slum rats?¡± He had a scruffy beard and hard eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve never known you to fight your employers. Is old age finally getting to that thick skull of yours?¡±


    ¡°I have a purpose here beyond simple contracted employment,¡± Aban replied, leveling his staff. ¡°Step aside, Yaren. For old time¡¯s sake.¡±


    A few chuckles rolled through the mages blocking our way. ¡°I thought you¡¯d die in that forest one day with your godson, Aban, but I should¡¯ve known it would be on the end of my blade.¡±


    The room held its breath for a single, protracted moment. Every person seemed to simultaneously size each other up. I kept my eyes on the staircase at the end of the hall, the sole way to Toren.


    And then it burst into motion, mana burning and flaring as spells were conjured and thrown. I weaved, trying to slip past the lead striker.


    His sword swung in my direction in an unavoidable arc. I conjured a baton of ice, using the thick rod to deflect the swing slightly. Then I threw the conjured weapon, trying to clock my scarred enemy in the skull.


    He let one of his hands go from his sword, using it to smack my baton to the side. It crashed into the wall, then fell uselessly to the floor.


    I barely pirouetted out of the way of another attack, this time a bullet of ice. I had to remember I wasn¡¯t fighting just one person.


    Aban and Vaelum were holding their own well, the older mage and young full-plated spearman working as a perfect unit. A coating of fire churned around Vaelum¡¯s spear, and he used it to cut through approaching spells and strike at any who got too close. Aban was summoning small vortexes of air that threw off the trajectory of anything in their blast radius.


    My attention was forced back to my opponent when he swung a spike of earth at me. I narrowly ducked, then somersaulted over another. A thin coating of ice over my forearm barely deflected another strike.


    ¡°Do you have any idea the pain you put me through?!¡± my opponent snarled, utterly focused on me.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t care,¡± I said, trying to peer past him. If I got past this man, I was sure I was agile enough to make it to the stairs. ¡°Maybe you can ask your mother? If she recognizes you with that nose.¡±


    That was probably the wrong thing to say, as he retaliated with a blow that made my next conjured construct shatter. His blade continued down, aiming for my shoulder.


    I hastily formed a thick pauldron of ice as his blade came down in a chop, cutting deeply into my makeshift armor. The blow sent shockwaves through my body, causing me to stumble.


    With the blade still lodged in my armor, the striker advanced, using his greater body weight to shove me against the wall. I felt his sword digging deeper and deeper into the ice, inching closer to my flesh.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to stick you like a pig,¡± he replied, grinding his blade down.


    I started feeling a flash of panic as my magic began to give in, but I grit my teeth, condensing another spell.


    A rattling boom rocked the entire building, causing the floorboards to rattle and making me stumble. The lighting artifacts on the wall shook in their fixtures, the light winking in and out. The shockwave reverberated through the structure, sending most of the mages standing to the floor. Both I and my opponent were thrown to the ground. The wind left my lungs in a wheeze as I struggled to comprehend what just happened.


    My eyes widened as I connected the dots. I knew you could do it, Kars, I thought, smirking as I pulled myself to my feet. The distillery was destroyed, meaning part of our objectives were complete. Another explosion echoed after, a wonderful encore to the first.


    A second later, the shields from outside finally barrelled into the hallway, their slower pace having kept them from joining us. Reinforcements had come.


    And Aban and Vaelum wasted no time capitalizing on the distraction. They rushed their enemies, many of whom were still trying to get to their feet. I took the chance to swing a heavy ice cleaver at the scarred striker, finally realizing that I wouldn¡¯t be able to get to Toren if this man stood in my way.


    He shifted, but my attack cut a slice across his arm, spraying blood and making him grunt in anger. ¡°Another scar to join the others!¡± I mocked, cocking my hand back. Then I threw the icy construct, the thick blade tumbling end over end.


    One of the shields on our side sent out his hand, and I felt a warmth suffuse my body. Looking down, I noticed several thin bands of metal coalescing around my shins and forearms.


    My next attack smashed straight through my enemy¡¯s guard, blowing his sword wide. These metal bracers somehow enhanced my strength, allowing me to hit far harder. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The man snarled, staggering backward. He stumbled, nearly tripping over one of the unconscious bodies of his fellows. We were gaining ground, pushing back against the Joans¡¯ hired lackeys.


    I launched at the man, intent on capitalizing on his faulty stance. But an alien force overwhelmed me, stealing the breath from my lungs. I choked, entirely unprepared for the sensation. It was as if the volume of an entire river was suddenly forced down my throat, making it impossible to inhale.


    The men around me similarly stumbled, taken aback by the sudden pressure. I heard a man whimper as I tried to make sense of what had just hit me.


    Above, I realized dimly. This is coming from above. The stairs!


    It was like the pressure of a boot being weighed against my body. I dropped my ice daggers as I staggered to the side, holding onto the wall for support. The light artifacts flickered and dimmed under the palpable intent, casting ominous shadows.


    The pressure relented after a moment, allowing me to fall back into a combat stance on instinct. Sweat beaded on my forehead, a phantom brush from the earlier power making my knees weak.


    ¡°What in the hells was that?¡± I heard Vaelum say from panting breath. ¡°Is it going to come back?¡±


    I gulped, the foreign power seeming to focus elsewhere. I shuddered at the thought of feeling it again, much of my earlier bravado quenched.


    But the source¡­ I couldn¡¯t leave Toren up there, facing whatever the Joans unleashed.


    I sensed mana building above us before lashing out, a cacophonous explosion resonating outward. The power began to build once, a truly astonishing amount like a beacon to my mana sense. It radiated from above, meshed with the strange presence. A fight was going on up there.


    Some of the mages were looking back wide-eyed at the stairwell, no doubt sensing the same gathering of power.


    A beam of red something seared through the wall from above, carving a line right near my opponent¡¯s head. He yelped as it burned another hole through the opposing wall without resistance.


    Resolving myself that I would simply power through any more weirdness that approached me, I lunged at the man. He was utterly unprepared to face me, his guard crumbling under my assault.


    With extra strength provided by my ally¡¯s spell, I was able to yank his arm aside, leaving him open to assault.


    Another explosion rocked the building, but this time from the upper floors. Dust fell from the ceiling as the floor quaked. The thunder of battle was occurring on multiple floors.


    I didn¡¯t let it deter me. My foe screamed in rage as his defense was obliterated, but I no longer had patience for this. I darted in, quick as lightning, drawing a cut along his leg. He stumbled, allowing me to deliver a final blow to his head.


    He crumpled, just as Vaelum, Aban, and the rest of my allies began to finish off their opponents. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I ignored several shallow cuts along my body.


    With a vindictive sort of pleasure, I leaned over the fallen striker, then ripped the silver necklace from around his neck. It was good quality, better than most. An heirloom, perhaps?


    I nodded to Aban, trying to convey my intent through my eyes. Then I dashed for the stairs, praying to the Sovereigns that I wasn¡¯t too late.

 Chapter 44: Acquire

    Toren Daen


    I looked down at my chest, feeling a childlike sort of wonder as the pulsing fire stared back. It was red as blood and engulfed my heart, the flames licking at my ribcage. It thumped in rhythm with my heartbeat, flaring and retreating with the flow. Through the lens of my Phoenix Will, I saw things I would never have thought possible.


    I felt aware of the world in a way I never experienced before. Every sound had so much more to them than just vibrations through the air. They had shape and character, charting paths through the world around them with a story all of their own. Fire wasn¡¯t just a chemical reaction, spurred on by heat causing a change. Fire... fire was emotion in its rawest, unfiltered form, without a care for the surroundings or who it might burn. My Will whispered all of this through my ear, allowing my mind to expand to new heights.


    I looked at Lawris at my feet. He was crying as he clutched a wound on his thigh. The shrapnel from breaking my metal shackles had launched a piece into his leg, and a quick overview told me it might¡¯ve severed the femoral artery. It was bleeding extensively, a shimmer of red pooling underneath.


    I watched with a mix of muted fascination and horror as the red fire over the boy¡¯s heart slowly withered, growing smaller and smaller as his blood spilled onto the floor. I could see tiny, wisplike embers simmering from the pool of red liquid.


    I shook my head, pulling myself from my reverie. I focused on my telekinesis rune, and my journal¨Cwhich had been clutched in one of Lawris¡¯ hands¨Cdrifted from his grasping fingers. It floated over to me, allowing me to pluck it out of the air.


    ¡°This belongs to me,¡± I said lowly. The fire in Lawris¡¯ chest gave one, final heave, then winked out. He stilled at the same time, his struggling and whimpering ceasing. The embers in his blood evaporated.


    I felt a distant sort of pity for the boy. His death was meaningless; accomplishing nothing. For so many years to pass by, only to culminate in such an indignant end? It felt like a waste, even for someone I hated.


    The death of his son spurred Lawrent out of his stupor, making him rush toward me with a roar. Lightning coalesced in a ball in his hand, which he threw with the speed of an arrow.


    A flare of telekinesis met it, causing it to burst midair. Lawrent began to conjure a dozen more orbs of lightning, each crackling with the power of a storm. At the edge of the room, I met Dornar¡¯s eyes.


    He inched to the side, aiming for the door. I slammed it shut with a mental push, locking the man inside with me.


    I took a step forward just as Lawrent yelled, his pudgy body already matted with sweat. His attacks flew at me all in unison. I stared them down, the second presence in my head a breath of air in my lungs. I tucked my journal into the waistband of my pants, ensuring it would remain safe against the coming battle.


    Before, I would¡¯ve struggled to counter this spell. In such close quarters, with so many attacks screaming toward me, I would¡¯ve been overwhelmed. I could only throw out so many fireballs; so many telekinetic pushes.


    But now, what felt like a burden was light as rain. A flurry of telekinetic pushes flared in front of me, meeting each and every sphere of lightning in a raucous crash. Tendrils of electricity arced and sputtered around, cutting smoking furrows in the floorboards and causing the building to creak.


    Two constructs of fire jumped at me from my flanks, their feline features snarling viciously. I snapped my hands out to the side, focusing on the nimbus of power in my sternum. Sound and fire mana gathered in my palms, then meshed together.


    With this new strength, I could see how they danced. Sound wasn¡¯t just atoms vibrating through the air; it was the essence of molecules¡¯ movement through all matter. I took that and applied it to fire mana, which encompassed heat. Heat was the rapid movement of atoms; generic thermal energy.


    And if sound mana could intensify that rapid movement; push that fire to further heights?


    Twin beams of red plasma fired from my palms, striking the fire constructs mid-leap. They seared straight through the bodies without resistance, then continued on through the walls. One of the beams¨Cits heat scorching even to me¨Cseared through several walls without resistance, continuing downward. The other cut a hole into the night outside.


    I could hear screams throughout the building, my enhanced hearing picking them out. Some were of alarm and confusion, but more were of pain.


    I felt a smile stretch across my face. Smoke rose from the wood I¡¯d seared through, slightly obscuring the view through the holes. ¡°You understand,¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice feathered across my thoughts. ¡°Do not let them recover.¡±


    I moved to act, taking a step toward the frozen mages. My display of power had stunned them again, and Lawrent was heaving for breath from his previous attack. He didn¡¯t fight much, did he?


    A searing pain lanced through my mana core. I stumbled, the pain in my leg and sudden heat making my concentration flash. The glowing tattoo on my arm flickered, the glow cutting out momentarily.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have much time,¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice said. ¡°End it. End it quickly.¡±


    I quickly checked inward, noting how low my mana was. I¡¯d been fighting for a long time, and Lady Dawn¡¯s feather wasn¡¯t outputting mana as it usually did. My focus was kept on maintaining the Will that blazed out of my core.


    A few mages barreled through the door, looking frantic at the fight. Two were wearing matching plate armor emblazoned with the sigil of Blood Joan. Another wore conventional battlerobes, but I could see the uncertainty on his pockmarked face. Mana swirled around them as they leveled their weapons.


    Capitalizing on my distraction, Dornar launched two more constructs at me. They bounded around Lawris, who focused on creating a spear of lightning. Simultaneously, the two armored mages charged me, moving in deadly sync.


    I focused on my telekinesis spellform and tried something different, almost instinctively. My crest had become an emblem, allowing me true control over objects in my range. But what happened when I tried to control myself? The rune seemed to whisper the basics of its features to me.


    I applied its new function to my body and felt my mana shroud react, the spells twisting and meshing in an unexpected synergy.


    I punched the first beast, feeling bolstered by my new power. Though the speed was slightly faster than normal, the impact was that of a train. Whatever my telekinesis did, it multiplied the strength I could output severalfold.


    The fiery beast evaporated, obliterated by my punch. One of the armored mages swung down at me with a heavy sword, aiming for my bloody forehead. My view of his sword warped strangely, mana coalescing along it in a manner I didn¡¯t recognize.


    I shifted to the side, pulling on the nearby wall to aid the movement. The blade sheared past me with an audible hum, the striker¡¯s augmented magic cutting deep into the floor. The red flame of his heart flared wildly from adrenaline.


    I grabbed onto the blade as it stuck into the ground. I immediately felt a shift in pressure, my hand suddenly struck with a manyfold increase in weight. A gravity spell, I quickly realized. It multiplied the weight of anything around it.


    I didn¡¯t have time to act. Another fire construct leapt at me, glowing brightly for a moment. The fire mana within it¨Cso easy to sense now¨Cbulged outward.


    Realizing what it was about to do, I focused on my telekinesis rune. I pushed at the leaping beast, sending it careening to the side. Instead of feeling an equal pushback as expected, the force splashed against my telekinetic shroud.


    The fiery feline collided with the other striker, who barely raised his blade in time to try and ward off the blow. The summon predictably detonated, blowing the armored mage through a nearby wall with a deafening bang and a nimbus of fire.


    All of this happened in barely a second. Refocusing on the other striker, I sent targeted blows of telekinesis against his wrists. He screamed as they twisted at unnatural angles, causing him to drop his sword.


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    I didn¡¯t have attention to waste, however. A lance of thin stone impacted the side of my chest, sending me tumbling back as it splintered my telekinetic shroud and made me bleed.


    I felt my time limit as I stabilized myself with telekinesis, looking at the red fire of the caster in battlerobes. He was panting after throwing that spell, and a significant portion of his mana expended.


    I grit my teeth, seeing through the film of red over my vision. Using a flurry of telekinetic punches, I sent blow after blow against the striker¡¯s armor. I felt my spells impacting a mana barrier, but with an effort of will they tunneled through. My target shook and blew back like a ragdoll, a dozen dents in his high-quality steel plate sending him into the wall.


    Using the new function of my telekinesis rune, I sent my will toward the sword I had wrenched from the striker¡¯s hands. It slowly lifted into the air, hovering as if held by a phantom hand. I felt a pinprick of fire in my core as I did so, but ignored it as I lined up my sights.


    Then I launched it, aiming at Lawrent Joan. He had a massive lightning spear manifesting in his hands, drawing an insane amount of mana. If I let that hit me, it didn¡¯t matter how strong my telekinetic barrier was. I noted absently that the place it had been dented hadn¡¯t mended itself automatically as my mana shroud did. There were white, crystalline cracks shining on my side.


    The sword flew forward as if possessed by a ghost, a streak of haunting steel. It tracked a beeline to the head of Blood Joan, but I was foiled too soon.


    Dornar grabbed the caster in battlerobes by the hem of his robes, then bodily threw him toward my attack. The man screamed as he was shredded by the steel, tumbling to the floor as he bled out.


    I snarled, feeling my drop in mana reserves.


    Lawrent Joan was almost done with his spell. I was barely stalled for a few seconds by the fiery beasts and mages. But I wouldn¡¯t be deterred.


    I raised my hand, aiming a finger at the mage. The red fire in his chest was quivering violently, showing me how much his heartrate had spiked. I concentrated fire and sound mana on the tip of my finger, but another searing pain from my mana core made me stumble.


    A thin beam of red plasma fired in a straight line from my fingertip, but my aim had been disrupted. It pierced through Lawrent¡¯s shoulder instead of his heart, the beam exiting the other side of his body and dissipating before it could hit the wall.


    Dornar couldn¡¯t save him this time.


    Lawrent Joan reeled backward, screaming as he fell. The wound didn¡¯t bleed, having instantly been cauterized by my attack. His lightning spear shot through the ceiling, breaking through panels of wood and stone into the sky and exploding overhead with a boom that must¡¯ve been heard for miles.


    Evidently, his expensive clothes didn¡¯t protect him any better than normal cloth.


    I lurched forward, my control and Will wavering. The red fire around my heart flickered in and out, my ability to perceive it slipping from my grasp like sand in an hourglass. The chains on my arm began to dim.


    No, I said, clamping down with force. Not yet.


    A fire construct tackled me to the floor, then another joined it. They tried to tear at my arms and legs, and with my wavering mana, I felt them crunch into my barrier. The explosions had started again, rocking through the structure with powerful rumbles.


    More constructs piled onto me, then started increasing their heat. I couldn¡¯t see anything but their flaming bodies, and as the temperature around me increased, I realized what they were going to do. If they succeeded, I¡¯d die, Will or no Will.


    Looking inward, I focused on the mana I had left. It was less than ten percent of my maximum from when I was light orange core.


    It would have to do. I grit my teeth, sweat coursing down my face. Come on!


    I lashed outward with the largest telekinetic wave I had yet tried. It took all my concentration, focusing every ounce of my new power into a single push.


    It rolled out of me like an explosion, launching the fiery felines away. As expected, an equal power pushed back down on me, but my telekinetic barrier reduced some of the impact. The breath was driven from my lungs, though.


    Not a second later, the fire constructs all self-destructed, blowing away the room in a nimbus of fire. My new telekinetic shroud shuddered from the heat, but I redoubled my effort to endure the attack. Though I felt no burns from the fire, my mana core seared.


    When the heat cleared, the roof of the building had been blown away. Most of the walls were obliterated by the flame, exposing us to the outside world and the crumbling walls of the estate. My telekinetic shroud was flickering weakly, finally fading away after the abuse I had put it through. It seemed to melt around me, sloughing away in a white sheen.


    Sparing a glance outside, I recognized my surroundings as the Joans¡¯ estate. The same long lawn and border of trees surrounded us, keeping me cut off from the outside world.


    The moon smiled down on me from above, bathing me in its light.


    ¡°What are you?!¡± Lawrent Joan cried hysterically, a hand clutching at his shoulder. His eyes bulged out of his sockets, staring at me like I had grown horns. His pupils were tiny pinpricks of grey in a sea of bloodshot white. ¡°By the Vritra, what are you?!¡±


    I felt Lady Dawn brush against the edges of my mind, another reassuring wave rolling through me.


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet, keeping an iron grip on the Will. ¡°You will never know,¡± I whispered, but the magic suffusing me carried it eerily. ¡°You will die here.¡±


    Dornar rushed me. I turned to him lethargically, my body responding slower. I lashed out with a telekinetic punch, the blow impacting him with a crack. He flew across the room, tumbling toward one of the broken walls. I hoped he was out of the fight.


    Lawrent tried to pull himself up, using what was left of his desk as support. I stepped forward as the man lobbed another bolt of lightning at me. I batted the ball upward, sending it soaring into the open night sky. New waves of pain ran up my arm as my protective shroud had finally dropped, but I ignored it.


    Using the new feature of my telekinesis rune, I latched onto a nearby shard of wood. It was less than a foot long and very thin.


    And very, very sharp.


    It hovered in the air under my control. I felt another searing pain from my mana core as the Will began to retreat, but I grit my teeth. Sweat dewed on my forehead, stinging my eyes as it mixed with the crimson blood. I sent the spike forward with force.


    It struck Lawrent in the sternum, burying into his chest. As my mana faltered, I wasn¡¯t able to drive it all the way through his body.


    But it did its job. The splinter of wood dug into Lawrent¡¯s ribcage, piercing his mana core. The man¡¯s legs gave out under him as his lavish red and yellow tunic¨Calready coated in dust, torn in multiple places, and sporting a dozen burns¨Cbegan to be coated red.


    The man rolled over, trying to pull himself to the opening in the wall. Reaching out with my telekinesis, I pulled on his foot. He screamed as he was dragged back to me, kicking and thrashing his pudgy body.


    Lawrent grabbed the syringe of blithe as he slid past it, holding it like a dagger as he was pulled closer to his doom.


    ¡°No more of that,¡± I whispered. ¡°Never that again.¡±


    The syringe was wrenched from his hands by my telekinesis, hovering midair. I clenched my teeth, and the syringe crumpled in my extended grip. It splashed its nightmarish contents over the floor, spraying glowing green fluid everywhere. I mentally tossed the shattered syringe away.


    ¡°No!¡± the fat man called, blubbering as his last defense was crushed in front of his eyes. ¡°No, please!¡±


    Soon, Lawrent Joan was forced before me on his knees. ¡°Please,¡± he begged as his struggles finally ceased and he collapsed. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me, please! I can give you anything you want!¡±


    I rolled the words around in my mind for a moment. ¡°What could you ever give me?¡± I asked, watching him like an asura watches a man.


    He looked up at me, perhaps seeing a glimmer of hope. He had so quickly gone from domineering tyrant to whipped dog. ¡°M-money,¡± he said. ¡°Food, glory! Anything you could want! I can do it for you!¡± he blubbered, picking up speed. ¡°Yes, do you want blithe? Your group¡­ It was scouting out the warehouses, weren¡¯t they?¡±


    I stared down at him for a long moment. ¡°Can you give me my brother back?¡± I asked at last.


    The hope winked out from his eyes. He began to thrash again, cursing my name under every Sovereign and crying for justice. It was unfair, he said. He had fought and bled to reach his station. But I raised a single finger to his forehead. Fire and sound mana gathered at its tip, then I exhaled.


    A thin beam of solid plasma punched through his skull, searing away his life and burning a hole in the floor. His whimpering ceased as the red flame in his chest extinguished, telling me he was dead.


    I saw a short trail of blood from where I had struck Dornar. Had he fled?


    I turned to the side, watching as a few mages crowded through one of the hallways. I recognized each and every one of them, causing a slight grin to stretch across my face.


    They surveyed the wreckage of my battle with visible shock, the smoking and sparking ruins telling their own tale. One of the strikers, who I had embedded into the wall, tumbled out limply, his dented armor ruined beyond repair.


    Naereni looked at the corpse kneeling at my feet, then back to me. I saw a myriad of emotions there: awe, relief¡­ and more than a little fear. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°You¡¯re a bit late,¡± I said conversationally.


    Then the Will finally gave out, retreating into the depths of my core. My tattoo faded from a vibrant glow to the dull red of ink, seeming to leak light. The red fire in every mage¡¯s chest winked out as I pitched back, my exhaustion finally catching up with me. I felt backlash pressing through every mana channel in my body as the abuse I put it through finally rebounded.


    Darkness encroached around the edges of my vision as I fell.


    ¡°Rest, Toren Daen,¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice whispered through my mind. ¡°You have earned it.¡±

 Chapter 45: Success

    Naereni


    The battle being waged above made my teeth rattle. Despite my earlier insistence, I felt a shameful fear of approaching whatever was happening. The mana I could sense being thrown around¡­ Could I survive that? Was I any use there?


    I clamped down on those thoughts, banishing them into the back of my mind. I wouldn¡¯t be the woman who refused even to look.


    The group of mages followed after me with a bit of hesitance in their steps. Vaelum and Aban were mostly unharmed, and the three shields were even better off.


    Another explosion made me pick up my pace. After the last one, the fight seemed to be winding down. There were fewer and fewer attacks making the light fixtures shatter, which might be a good sign.


    The first sign of the fight was a seared hole in the wall, one I recognized as caused by that red beam that interrupted my fight. It must have traveled all the way from two stories up to reach down that low.


    Debris littered the hallway as I approached the door, hearing the fight begin to settle down. Everything not nailed down had been smashed to the floor, and fires were burning in small patches everywhere.


    I looked at the door with trepidation, then remembered the look Karsien had given me earlier. He trusted me to see this through.


    I pushed open the door, not aware if I was being followed.


    And nearly fell back from the sight.


    The entire back wall and ceiling of the room had been destroyed, revealing the courtyard below. Parts of the supporting walls creaked under the weight of what remained of the roof, bits and pieces falling from above.


    Fires blazed in a dozen different points of the room, flickering with the starlight.


    A man knelt in the center of the room, staring up with hollow eyes. His fat body was coated in blood and dust, and the clothes he wore were shredded to pieces. His corpse looked like it was kneeling in supplication, asking for a boon that would never come.


    And standing over him was the source of the presence. I recognized Toren¡¯s strawberry-blonde hair, even from a distance. His chain tattoo glowed with red light, shining through the dust and blood that coated him. There was nothing left of his shirt, revealing a body marked by uncountable bruises and cuts. He stood over the body like a judge, deeming it unworthy.


    My breath caught in my throat as Toren turned to me. His face, even partway down his cheeks, was covered in blood from a gash over his forehead. Orange runes that looked like feather stems shone under his eyes, fighting to be seen through the red as they glowed like simmering coals.


    And then I met his eyes. His pupil burned like a star, and I felt like he could see right through me. He held my gaze for a long moment, keeping my breath from reentering my lungs. I wanted to turn away, close my eyes, and protect them from the glare. It was like staring into the sun, but there was a beauty there that was hard to relinquish. Then he finally spoke.


    ¡°You¡¯re a bit late.¡±


    And then the glowing markings on his body faded. The chains on his arm became ink once more, dulling to a normal sheen. The fire in his eyes winked out, accompanied by the burning feather stem runes. His legs gave out under him, letting him crash to the floor with a thump.


    I should¡¯ve caught him, I thought to myself. It was the least I could do.


    The men behind me released a collective breath. We waited there like confused ants for a moment, wondering what the hell we were supposed to do. But then Aban approached Toren, laying a hand on his chest. Vaelum looked down at the body of the plump man. I couldn¡¯t see under his helmet, but I had a feeling he was frowning.


    ¡°Is he alright?¡± I asked Aban as I quickly hurried over, pushing past my reservations.


    Aban ran his hands over Toren¡¯s body, poking and prodding at certain places. ¡°He¡¯s facing extreme backlash right now. There¡¯s¡­ something restraining it, though I can¡¯t figure out what. His core is practically empty.¡±


    Aban turned the body over gently, inspecting Toren¡¯s back for injuries. I felt myself grow curious at what runes Toren must possess. He¡¯d displayed so many abilities, and most mages our age only had a couple of spellforms to their name.


    Toren had been intentionally secretive about what runes he held, so I felt a stab of guilt as I sneaked a peak at his spine.


    But what I saw there was surprising. A curving red rune was stamped right above the lip of his pants. It was intricate and detailed in a way I¡¯d never seen before. I realized with astonishment that this was certainly beyond a crest. Probably an emblem.


    But my surprise quickly turned to confusion. There was only one rune on his back. Where were the others?


    Aban hastily turned the body over. ¡°Does anybody have a spare towel? Something to wrap the boy in? He¡¯s already facing backlash. In this chill, he¡¯ll catch a cold as well.¡±


    One of the shields retrieved a blanket from his dimension rune, handing it over to Aban. He gingerly wrapped the young mage in the cloth.


    Looking at Toren like that, swaddled in a blanket, clashed deeply with my earlier vision of him, looming over the room like a Sovereign. It reminded me that he was just a boy, really, several years younger than I.


    But my confusion returned as I looked at him. How had he displayed such abilities with only one rune? Were those chains on his arm actually spellforms? After all, it was basic knowledge that mages could only use magic with the runes on their backs.


    ¡°Aban?¡± I questioned. ¡°On Toren¡¯s back, I only saw a single rune¨C¡±


    ¡°Hush, girl,¡± he whispered harshly, holding the boy and darting his eyes across the devastated room. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anybody about what you saw. Trust me when I say it will bring nothing but harm.¡±


    I furrowed my brows, taken aback by the insistence in the man¡¯s tone. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    The aged caster looked down at the boy in his hands. I could barely sense a mana signature from Toren¡¯s body. ¡°There are rumors, from the war,¡± he whispered, so low I almost didn¡¯t hear him. He shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Dusk here has something very, very special. Something that will endanger him if anybody hears about it. Do you understand me?¡±


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    The way Aban looked at me almost reminded me of how Karsien stared me down a few days ago, a hint of condescension and dismissal there. But this wasn¡¯t the same. This old man wasn¡¯t reprimanding me like a parent does a child. He truly believed what he was saying.


    What is your secret, Toren? I wondered, staring at his closed eyes. What are you hiding?


    But I¡¯d come here to save Toren. If speaking about how he only had one rune would bring danger to him, I¡¯d keep my mouth shut. ¡°I¡¯ll stay quiet,¡± I promised.


    The man¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Then he looked up, scanning around the room. ¡°We need to get out of here fast,¡± he said, rising to his feet. He held Toren¡¯s body in a princess carry, making sure not to rock it too hard.


    I nodded. We¡¯d accomplished all we came here for, but I had no doubt that reinforcements would soon arrive.


    ¡°Lawrent Joan is dead,¡± Vaelum said from nearby, something strange in his voice. ¡°I never thought it would happen.¡±


    One of the shields grunted uncomfortably. ¡°He was a mean bastard. He had it coming eventually, with all he did.¡± He side-eyed Vaelum. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be surprised he was done in by one of the old Bloods he pissed off.¡±


    I scanned the room once more, getting ready to leave, but then noticed something glinting in the far corner of the room. The area had barely remained unscathed, as it was farthest from the fighting. I felt my instincts as a thief perk up unconsciously, and meandered over to the object I¡¯d spotted.


    I spat on a shattered syringe as I moved around it, though.


    What I had seen was a polished metal case with inlaid carvings. Hesitantly, I knelt by its side and unlocked it, wondering what might be inside. Jewels? Artifacts? Maybe even an accolade from the Relictombs? The container was certainly fancy enough for something like that.


    I was taken aback when I saw what was inside. I blinked, recognizing what stared back. It was an instrument, one with strings and a strange contraption that looked like a bow. A violin, I vaguely recognized. One of the musical instruments played by the wealthy. I only recognized it from Greahd¡¯s descriptions, the woman one of the few people I knew to play any string instruments.


    It looked old, but had an elegance to its curvature. Like a fine wine that only grew more savory as it aged, this instrument took beauty from the bits of wear and tear it sported. I felt little twinges of mana from the wood, telling me it might¡¯ve been carved of clarwood.


    I could sell this for a fortune, I realized. I could buy a tenth of the buildings in East Fiachra with the profit alone!


    But then I noticed the glyph stamped into the wood down below. It looked like a long dagger, bleeding runes on either side in streams. I knew the emblem immediately: this was the symbol of Named Blood Daen. Toren¡¯s family.


    I swallowed, shoving away my thoughts of selling the priceless instrument. I had failed to reach Toren in time to save him myself. Maybe I could make it up to him by saving this relic from the hands of his mortal enemies.


    I sucked the case, the violin inside, into my dimension ring. Standing up, I prepared to leave with the rest of the mages. The building was unsteady on its foundations, creaking and shaking every now and then as it settled strangely. Having explosions rock through its basement would have that effect.


    Our group traveled swiftly away from the carnage, avoiding the bodies of the mages we¡¯d defeated. We met up with Hofal near the entrance.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Karsien?¡± I asked, a bit worried that he wasn¡¯t with the shield. ¡°Is he okay?¡±


    ¡°After setting off the distillery, he left, saying he had some unfinished business,¡± Hofal shrugged. ¡°I couldn¡¯t keep up with him, so I stayed to gather as much evidence about the distillery as I could.¡±


    I grinned at Hofal¡¯s words. I had no doubt Blood Joan was dead in the water after this.


    ¡°I take it your rescue was successful?¡± he asked.


    I glanced back at Aban, who was chatting lowly with Vaelum. ¡°He¡¯s pretty banged up, but Toren¡¯s alive. That¡¯s what matters.¡±


    Hofal was quiet for a moment as we waited at the edge of the building. ¡°Things are going to change after this,¡± he said lowly. ¡°Nothing will be the same after what happened here.¡±


    I felt my smile stretch wider. ¡°You¡¯re damn right they will, Hofal.¡±


    Karsien chose that moment to manifest next to us. I didn¡¯t show much reaction, but the rest of the mages jumped, their hands going for their weapons.


    ¡°Everything was successful, then?¡± he said, ignoring the startled looks he got from the mages around us. ¡°How is Toren?¡±


    Karsien¡¯s clothes had slight singes over them in patches.


    And his mask was gone.


    The entire upper part of Karsien¡¯s face was coated in a horrible burn. I had to suppress my nausea as I tried to ignore it. I¡¯d only seen his face once before.


    What did he do after he left Hofal?


    ¡°Dusk will live, though he¡¯s in rough shape right now,¡± Aban replied, politely avoiding staring at Karsien¡¯s scars. ¡°I suggest you take him to a healer as fast as possible.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You¡¯re not coming with us?¡± I asked, hearing the words.


    Aban shook his head. ¡°We got tangled up in this quite badly,¡± the older caster said. ¡°But as great as you Rats are as people, your reputation doesn¡¯t match it. We¡¯ll have to keep a distance.¡±


    The mages behind Aban seemed to agree.


    ¡°Thank you for helping us,¡± I said as Hofal carefully took Toren¡¯s body from Aban. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there¡¯d be anybody else willing to try and make a difference here.¡±


    Aban looked at Toren¡¯s face again. ¡°Don¡¯t thank us, young lady. Thank Dusk. I¡­ I thought long ago that nothing would change in this city. But your friend proved me wrong.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Go, before this old man gets more sentimental.¡±


    I swallowed, then went out into the night with Karsien and Hofal.


    ¡°What did you do after blowing up the distillery?¡± I asked my leader, trying to take my mind off Aban¡¯s words.


    ¡°Tying off loose ends,¡± my mentor replied evasively. But from how light his step was, I knew there was something more to it. He walked without the silent burden he¡¯d held for all the time I¡¯d known him.


    ¡°You killed someone,¡± I guessed as we reached the fence. There was a gap wrenched through the iron bars that weren¡¯t there before, no doubt caused by one of the shields rushing after us.


    Karsien was silent for a moment. ¡°I repaid a debt,¡± he said.


    In other words, he did kill someone.


    Wade was pacing back and forth outside the fence, a look of agitation on his face. He paused when he heard us approach. ¡°Naereni?¡± he asked, a bit fearful.


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I replied, taking his arm. He couldn¡¯t see very well without his glasses, and the dark of the forest made it worse. ¡°We succeeded. Toren needs a healer, though. And you owe me an apple.¡±


    Wade coughed, but my attention was drawn to the other sentry on the ground. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The other sentry was sitting in the dirt, his eyes staring off into nothing. I opened my mouth to speak, noticing how out of it he seemed. Was he okay?


    Then he focused on Hofal, who was holding Toren¡¯s body. He looked away as if he was burned. ¡°You¡¯ve got to leave quickly,¡± he said quietly. ¡°There¡¯s a small squadron of mages coming over from several neighboring estates. The battles that went on here were¡­ attention drawing.¡±


    We began to move after a muttered thanks, but I was held by the sentry¡¯s hand on my arm. Wade immediately turned, his body coiled like a serpent as he realized what happened.


    ¡°That boy¡­ the power he has isn¡¯t natural. It¡­ it scalded me when I looked. Like I was staring into the sun. He carries a star.¡±


    I was unnerved by the blankness in the sentry¡¯s eyes, but I carefully pried my arm away. ¡°It won¡¯t burn us,¡± I said, putting on my usual mask of confidence. ¡°We Rats are good at using the fires near us.¡±


    But inside, I remembered Toren¡¯s burning pupils staring through me, seeming to peel apart my chest layer by layer to look at my heart. I remembered the body of Lawrent Joan, kneeling in supplication at his feet.


    Our newest member held far more secrets than he willingly let on. I could only hope my words were true.

 Chapter 46: Aftermath

    Toren Daen


    I coughed out a spittle of blood, staring up into the sky. The autumn leaves split the sun¡¯s rays in a strange pattern, casting the small clearing in heavenly light. My mouth tasted like iron and copper.


    The blood streaming from my chest was warm. That felt like a strange thing to focus on as you died, but I was having trouble stringing together coherent thoughts. The skaunter corpses around me, all in various states of death, told the story of my recent battle.


    I had fared far worse against the beasts than I expected. Without Norgan, I was only as fast as an unad. I had no way to block a strike, and my best weapon was a spray of rocks.


    I had gone into the battle feeling a strange sort of relief. I was going to see Norgan again. I had no need to worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow would never come. I didn¡¯t have to worry about scrounging up next month¡¯s rent or reporting for my job on time. There was no need to constantly think about my next meal, or how I would afford new clothes.


    It would be over soon. I could let it all go.


    But as my life¡¯s blood leaked into the dirt, it washed over my fury at Blood Joan. Why should I spend my last moments so wrapped up in hate? My end already felt like a waste.


    So instead, I found myself feeling a deep sadness. I had accomplished my goal. Blood Joan would never reap my soul for themselves, for I had taken this option myself.


    I supposed that was what it all boiled down to. The choice I made was my own, and none could take that from me. But I found myself lamenting the fact that I hadn¡¯t made a difference. Blood Joan would take another young boy¡¯s brother someday, and the cycle would continue.


    My eyes fluttered. Depending on where you were cut, it could take several seconds to many minutes to bleed out. Despite the pain in my chest¨Cwhich was quickly melting away¨CI wondered why I had never been so introspective before.


    When my eyes blinked open slowly, I was surprised to see someone floating down from on high. Their hair was like the sunrise, flaring out in a tapestry of orange. Her dress rustled gently from an unseen breeze, and her dusky purple skin contrasted with the glow of her eyes.


    ¡°Are you a god?¡± I asked, the pain from my moving chest inconsequential. I always wondered where I would go when I died. The Vritra Doctrination didn¡¯t preach about what happened after you died in service of the Sovereigns, only that it would bring you glory to do so. I remembered a man who died on the operating table, calling out to phantom shadows of his loved ones who had come to whisk him away.


    I realized I would have felt a semblance of peace having Norgan take me to wherever was next.


    The ethereal woman, who was slightly translucent, paused at my question. ¡°I am not,¡± she replied, her voice melodic.


    ¡°Am I going to see heaven?¡± I asked. If she wasn¡¯t a god, then this spirit might serve one.


    She watched me for a long moment, those blazing eyes intent. ¡°I do not know what lay for you beyond,¡± she said. ¡°But I come bearing an offer for you.¡±


    I blinked slowly, my thoughts running thick as sap as blood slowly pooled beneath me. ¡°I do not know if I can accept, holy one. My body is broken.¡±


    And I wanted to see Norgan again. The woman might not know what I would see, but I knew my brother would be there. Felt it in every drop of blood that left my body.


    ¡°It is in regards to your body,¡± the woman said, drifting closer. ¡°Are you willing to give it up for another?¡±


    ¡°For you?¡± I asked. The woman was beautiful, and the power she contained only became clearer as my own strength waned.


    ¡°In part.¡±


    I closed my eyes. I felt tempted to let them stay closed. I would never have to open them again. I was so tired.


    ¡°Can you make this world better?¡± I asked, pulling on those melancholy thoughts from before. ¡°So brothers and sisters will never lose each other again?¡±


    ¡°Is that what you wish?¡± the woman¡¯s voice feathered against my cheek. I pulled my eyelids open. It was so hard, like lifting the sky on my back.


    The woman was closer now, standing right by my side. ¡°I think so,¡± I whispered. ¡°People need a light to follow.¡±


    ¡°If you accept my offer, your soul will not leave this plane,¡± the woman said. She was so radiant, like a star in the night. ¡°But it will join with another¡¯s. Wish enough¨Cwant enough¨Cand mayhaps your dreams may come true.¡±


    What would Norgan say? He was the one who took risks, striking out where I felt safer in my comfort zone. His drive and strength were what pushed us both onward.


    I felt my eyes glaze over as the world became unfocused. I felt myself slipping, slowly falling toward a light.


    But not yet. I would see Norgan one day, but not today. He would be disappointed in me if I met him without having done all I could. ¡°I accept.¡±


    ¡ª


    I pulled my eyes open, the dream¨Cthe memory, one I had not recalled until now¨Cfresh on the edges of my mind. Stark-white walls stared back at me, a familiar sterile scent greeting my nose.


    I lay prone on a hospital bed, a common gown keeping out the chill. My body ached in a dozen places, and I bit back a curse as I instinctively tried to move my arms.


    My mana channels ached something fierce, causing me to quickly surrender the idea. A thin I.V. was injected into my arm, no doubt feeding me nutrients remotely. Scanning around the room, I noticed my notebook standing on a nearby table, along with a few of my belongings. The signet ring of Named Blood Daen sat there proudly, the dagger sigil braving the open air.


    I struggled to recall the events that led me here. I remembered my capture, being hauled up to be faced with Lawrent Joan. I remembered each blow I took before I was finally threatened with the syringe of blithe.


    And then the explosion rocked the building. I had been thrown from where I knelt, along with that hovering quill. Watching it¡­ watching it finally allowed me to understand. That rush of mana from upgrading my crest to an emblem had purified my core. The outpour from that purification had briefly overwhelmed the mana-suppressing shackles around my wrists.


    And after that¡­


    ¡°You have rested long, Contractor,¡± a voice said against my mind. I would¡¯ve jumped in surprise if I could move. Those were not my own thoughts.


    The voice was familiar, travelling over a link that had always been present. It was melodic and even. If I had never heard it before, I might have thought it imperious. But now the voice was tentative, waiting. I could feel a sliver of emotion there, but it was muted by hesitance and¡­ fear? Anxiety?


    Lady Dawn? I thought, trying to direct the question over our link. She had never used it before that last fight, where our Bond had deepened for the briefest of minutes.


    The Unseen World darkened the colors in the room. The phoenix sat on a nearby chair, her hands held in her lap gracefully. She wore her orange sundress with purple lining, matching the one I¡¯d seen in my recently unearthed memory.


    ¡°It has been some time since you were awake,¡± she said, both aloud and over our telepathic bond. It was a strange sensation, processing words through two different senses. ¡°Some were beginning to worry you would never wake.¡±


    ¡°Were you worried about me?¡± I teased lightly. ¡°I would¡¯ve never thought you had it in you.¡±


    ¡°Your body is not fully assimilated with the Will that marks your core,¡± the phoenix replied, battering my teasing away like a lord dismisses a servant. ¡°Though there was no other option, using the power it granted taxed your core and body beyond anything before.¡±


    I remembered the rush of power as my mind meshed with Lady Dawn¡¯s, her reassurance a comforting hand on my shoulder as I fought the Joans in their heart of power. The red fire I could see over everyone¡¯s heart, the deep understanding of mana I gained¡­


    I remembered how I acted under the influence of the Will. I pulled and twisted at the fire and sound mana available to me, using them in ways that made perfect sense at the time. It was as if I had a college-level understanding of mathematics and was working through a complex equation. I knew all the steps to get from one end to the other.


    But now, I could only recognize the start and the end. Fire and sound created plasma. But the steps I had taken seemed nonsensical to me now, operating under principles and insight that I couldn¡¯t replicate. I was like a middle schooler watching a man work through an integral. I knew he was adding something here, or dividing there. The symbols and signs were familiar, but I was lost in the process.


    ¡°How long was I out?¡± I asked, looking down at my body. It was still bruised and battered in places, which told me I probably hadn¡¯t been out long. My core was near full capacity once more, Lady Dawn¡¯s feather working at top speed. Considering my healing factor, that meant I probably had been out for less than a few days.


    ¡°You have been unconscious for nearly a week,¡± the phoenix replied, causing me to internally balk. ¡°It is not so surprising, Contractor. Your healing factor¡­ it is derived from the basilisk lineage nearly every man and woman in Alacrya carries a trace of. But the Vritra¡¯s mana arts¡­ they are anathema to those of the phoenixes.¡±


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    I stewed on that revelation for a minute more. ¡°My body won¡¯t heal well from wounds I take after using the Will,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°Does that mean¨C¡±


    I was interrupted when a face peeked into the room. I didn¡¯t recognize who it was, but their eyes widened upon seeing me awake. ¡°Oh, sorry for intruding!¡± the woman said quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll get Trelza for you now that you¡¯re awake!¡± She rushed out of the room without another word. Considering the woman mentioned Trelza, I was in the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild.


    ¡°Mayhaps it would be wiser for you to communicate with me only through your mind for the time being,¡± Lady Dawn said slowly aloud and over our link. ¡°It would keep our conversations sheltered from curious ears.¡± I could feel the barest brush of her emotions over that bond, but it was fleeting. The phoenix wasn¡¯t as stone cold as she made herself out to be.


    I thought you despised telepathic communication, I thought with effort. I remember you having very choice words about not touching any other minds.


    Lady Dawn was silent for a moment. Her hair rustled slightly, the burning orange locks waving despite being in a building. She looked contemplative.


    ¡°When we were first Bonded, Contractor, I was not whole. Agrona¡­ he took much from me. Much that was dear to my being. But as you progressed, especially as you broke through to the yellow core stage¡­ I have begun to recover,¡± she said, looking at my core.


    This time I could feel the emotion Lady Dawn held. She was trying to keep it back, but it flowed unbidden over our Bond like water through a canal. She was truly, deeply grateful to me. In a way that was difficult to fathom.


    I felt like I didn¡¯t deserve the emotion. I hadn¡¯t done anything to help her yet or fulfill my promise to her.


    Then the asura did something I never expected. She smiled, chuckling lightly as if at a private joke. I briefly wondered if I was still unconscious, dreaming all of this in some figment of my mind. But the aches and pains of my body were too real. I gaped at her.


    Lady Dawn had just laughed.


    ¡°You will need to learn to mask your thoughts, Contractor,¡± she said as her voice quieted. ¡°They are blatantly obvious. I avoid reading anything deeper than what you intentionally convey, but it is considered poor manners to leave them so open.¡± The asura paused, cocking her head. ¡°Like a man that comments on politics during a wedding. It is rude, if unintentional.¡±


    At that moment, the door to my hospital room opened, revealing a tall, bald man. I shut my gaping mouth with an audible click as the Unseen World vanished, leaving the walls a bright white again.


    ¡°Worry not, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice brushed against my mind. ¡°I will teach you, as I promised.¡±


    Trelza looked down on me, his face a mask. I felt the sudden desire to fall back asleep and pretend the man just wasn¡¯t there. I felt judged. I felt unworthy.


    ¡°You live,¡± the stern surgeon said. He had taught me everything I knew of saving lives, and yet his words cut deeper than any scalpel. ¡°Despite the wounds you incurred.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m difficult to kill,¡± I offered, not knowing what else to say. I had sworn to this man that I would not seek vengeance for Norgan¡¯s death. Even if I swore on the names of gods I did not believe in, the weight was still the same. I could not rationalize my lies.


    Trelza opened a notebook, looking down at the pages. ¡°A broken nose. Three broken ribs. Internal bleeding from the liver. Multiple lacerations and contusions across the body,¡± Trelza started, listing off what must have been my injuries. With each one, I sank a little deeper into my bed. ¡°A crushed tibia. Multiple third-degree burns on each digit of the hand, reaching up the arms. A stab wound in the anterior deltoid muscles. Extreme backlash from overuse of mana, bordering on self-crippling.¡±


    The notebook snapped shut crisply. ¡°You should be dead, Toren Daen, and yet you are on track for a full recovery.¡± We stared at each other tensely for a few moments. ¡°You should thank the Sovereigns for keeping you alive.¡±


    And suddenly, I felt my shame be buried by another emotion.


    Anger.


    ¡°It is not the Sovereigns that keep me alive,¡± I said with a scowl, pulling myself straighter in my bed. ¡°In fact, I think the Sovereigns would approve of my actions. I slew my enemy, proving my strength in battle.¡±


    ¡°You swore an oath, Daen,¡± Trelza replied, looking at me from above. That man was tall. ¡°And you broke it.¡±


    ¡°There are some things that an oath can never restrain,¡± I said through gritted teeth. ¡°And it wouldn¡¯t matter either way. Kaelan Joan promised me that she would see me dead eventually.¡±


    ¡°Oaths are what separates us from beasts,¡± Trelza responded, unmoved. ¡°They are what give our language meaning. To break an oath is to move closer to your animalistic heritage. There were plenty of options available to you, Daen, chief among them leaving this city. Escaping past the Joans¡¯ area of influence.¡±


    I glared at the doctor, who watched me impassively. But as the conversation caught up to me, I felt my anger settle somewhat. Getting into a verbal sparring match with this man would do nothing to improve my condition. ¡°I did that, Trelza,¡± I said wearily. ¡°I left this city. The day Norgan died? The day Kaelan promised me she would see my blood spilled in vengeance?¡± I licked my lips. I had never told anyone this in this new life. In fact, I purposefully avoided thinking about the events of Toren¡¯s death.


    And I only now truly remembered the death itself.


    ¡°I went into the Clarwood Forest,¡± I whispered. ¡°I did not plan to come out.¡±


    Trelza shifted backward slightly, a flickering of surprise on his face. It was faint: a slight rise of the eyebrows; barely parted lips. His eyes widened the slightest of margins. But for the stone-faced surgeon, it might have been an audible gasp.


    ¡°But I came back, Trelza. I left that forest with a purpose. And regardless of what you think of it; regardless of how you view my actions, that purpose has been fulfilled.¡±


    And that was the truth of the matter. I had broken an oath, but I had made a deeper pact to myself before I ever swore to Trelza. If he could not understand, I could not force it upon him.


    Trelza quickly composed himself. We were silent for a few minutes, the revelation of my attempted suicide simmering in the air like a live wire.


    ¡°When you are recovered,¡± Trelza said at last, ¡°You will officially be let go as an assistant surgeon of this clinic.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I understand.¡±


    The man turned on his heels, marching out of the door. A very uncomfortable-looking nurse came in after, asking about my symptoms and checking my vitals like Trelza was supposed to do. I felt my shoulders slump as I rattled off what she needed to know: after all, I¡¯d asked the same questions a hundred times myself.


    ¡°That man will break long before he bends,¡± Lady Dawn said over our link. ¡°Such inflexibility¡­ it reminds me more of my fellow asura than a mortal man.¡±


    My shoulders sagged as I stared up at the ceiling. It makes him an astounding doctor, I replied telepathically. But a difficult person to know.


    And it seemed Trelza was not the last of my visitors. A head of shoulder-length black hair peeked in quickly and then spotted me. My eyebrows raised in surprise as Naereni quickly darted in, shutting the door behind her.


    ¡°It¡¯s about time you woke up,¡± she said with an exhale. ¡°Didn¡¯t know if you ever would.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m difficult to kill,¡± I repeated, feeling tired.


    The young woman rolled her eyes, but there was a note of something else there.


    ¡°How¡¯s the crew doing?¡± I asked, vaguely remembering seeing Aban, Vaelum, and the assorted shields I¡¯d saved in the Clarwood Forest before passing out. ¡°I take it you¡¯re not half-dead like I was?¡±


    Naereni seemed to loosen up, my familiar tone easing some hidden tension in her spine. ¡°We¡¯re a lot better off than you are,¡± she said. ¡°The Joans kept the distillery under their estate, which was really stupid in my opinion. Just asking for somebody to blow it up.¡±


    I smiled, and for once I thought it might meet my eyes. ¡°Absolutely begging,¡± I said.


    Naereni shook her head. ¡°We¡¯ll have to catch up with you later. I don¡¯t have much time. The head doctor here¡­ he uh, doesn¡¯t really like having thieves running about his Guild.¡±


    I raised my brow. ¡°How¡¯d you figure that out?¡±


    ¡°He glared at me until I left,¡± she said sheepishly. ¡°He just never blinked.¡±


    Yep. That sounded like Trelza.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be happy to know that the kill order was rescinded,¡± Naereni said. ¡°And without the Joans strongarming a whole bunch of people, they aren¡¯t expending the manpower to look for you. You¡¯re safe from them, at least for now.¡±


    I grinned, but it was a bit empty. ¡°Maybe I¡¯d take a walk if I could move my legs.¡± Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Naereni shook her head.


    ¡°Anyways,¡± she said, refocusing herself. ¡°I came to deliver these to you,¡± she said, pulling a few items from her dimension rings. I recognized the books I¡¯d asked Wade to borrow for me. Aldoreth¡¯s Encyclopedia of Stars,Catalogue of the Constellations¡¯ Movement Across Alacrya, and Treatise on the Four Elements of Mana in Relation to their Natural Counterparts.


    The last item made me pause. It was a familiar metal case. ¡°I found it in the aftermath of your fight against Lawrent. I thought you might appreciate this.¡±


    She set the case down on the table near my journal, then nodded. ¡°I, uh, was a bit late. I hope this makes up for that.¡±


    Not giving me a chance to reply, the young striker peeked her head out of the doorway, then darted out, leaving like a phantom that was never there.


    I stared at the metal case, knowing the contents intimately. I reached out with my telekinesis emblem, using the fine control it granted to remotely unflip the latch securing the case. My mana channels ached slightly from the action. Backlash came in stages: shortly after, trying to use mana at all would be like trying to flex a sprained wrist. You could only damage yourself, and you would never achieve what you were trying to accomplish. Now, I was in the stage where everything simply ached, like a muscle that had gone through a heavy workout.


    Using my magic wouldn¡¯t hurt me unless I overdid it.


    I reached out with my mind, enveloping the antique violin within the case in my mana. Both it and the bow floated upward, a bright white outline signaling it was under my control. With a bare shift of will, the priceless instrument floated over to me, nestling gently in my lap.


    I held the violin bow, inspecting the aether beast hairs that made up the strings. The wood was of solid clarwood, and I had known this instrument all my life.


    I had abandoned it in my old apartment, leaving it like a man discards a used tissue. The moment I had done it, I had almost loathed the violin. Music was freedom. But the shackles I wore would taint any sound I could make. And music was beautiful. But why should things be beautiful if my brother was not there to share the experience? And music was emotion. But what emotion could I feel except anger and pain in the wake of my reincarnation and the death of my brother?


    I remembered Toren¡¯s dying wish as he sacrificed himself for my rebirth. As he gave up not just his body, but his soul as well to the promises of Lady Dawn.


    Make the world a better place. Bring people the light.


    I picked up the instrument, settling the violin between my jaw and collar. I held the bow up, looking at it long and hard. Such a simple thing. It was surprisingly light in my hands, and my hold on it was practiced and firm. Even if I had wanted to forget, my body remembered. I set the bow across the strings, closing my eyes as my body moved of its own accord.


    I took a shuddering breath, then began to play.

 Chapter 47: Beyond

    Arthur Leywin


    I pivoted on my foot, bringing my sword up in a precise cut. The attack sheared through the golem¡¯s ribcage, spewing red liquid that mimicked blood. Turning, I dodged an axe blow from a rampaging ¡®general,¡¯ clothed in the same red and gray ensemble as the rest of its conjured army, only differentiated by the little crown on its head. Seeing an opening, I channeled a bolt of lightning in my offhand, letting it fly toward the general.


    The general took the electric spell in the chest, convulsing as if it were made of flesh and not an incomprehensible construct of earth mana. Not willing to let the advantage go, I darted in, using the barest application of wind mana at my feet to aid me along. A thin coating of fire erupted over my practice blade, adding a searing edge to the weapon. When I decapitated the general, no red liquid flew.


    Over the course of the last five months of training in Epheotus, Wren had forced me into dozens of different battlefield scenarios. I¡¯d worked alongside ¡®commando operations,¡¯ trying to achieve certain objectives to maintain ground. I¡¯d been a military tactician, holding and reinvigorating the morale of make-believe troops. Sometimes, I simply needed to cut down as many enemy golems as possible.


    But the constant in this wartime training was the need to always be aware of everything around me.


    I stomped my foot as the stone golem fell, sending earth mana into the ground. A few yards away, a small bump of rock protruded at my command just as one of the enemy golems was making to finish off those from my team.


    The enemy golem stumbled over the sudden obstacle, losing its chance to kill my ally.


    That cost it its ¡®life.¡¯ My ally golem, garbed in clothing that had the symbols of Elenoir, Sapin, and Darv in a triangular formation on the breast, managed to run its opponent through with a dagger to the armpit. Red liquid spewed from the wound before the enemy golem went down.


    I absorbed all of this in barely a second. My eccentric asuran trainer was prickly and openly condescending toward humankind, but there was a true method to his madness. I was forced to fight for days on end, learning to conserve my mana and maximize my spell usage. Mana rotation could only take me so far when a battle of thousands raged.


    I dove back into the battle, ignoring the mental fatigue that had accumulated over the past few hours. Constantly keeping track of an entire battlefield, trying to keep casualties at a minimum, and reinforcing weakening fronts was an exhausting task. But this had become routine to me.


    Especially after the training ramped up.


    My blade carved through the enemy forces like a scythe through wheat. Some of them ran from me, the earthen summons seemingly cowed by my presence. I let those turn tail: rarely did my own ally summons leave those be.


    But I was caught off guard when, all of a sudden, every single golem halted as if caught in a bubble of frozen time. The deep crater Wren Kain called a training ground suddenly became a field of macabre statues, an entire battlefield petrified back to the stone they were at heart.


    I hesitantly lowered my sword, a furrow creasing my brow. I absently thought this would have been the kind of art display the politicians of my life as King Grey would have adored. Severed limbs were suspended in midair, a static stream of red liquid mimicking blood. Looks of terror and rage were sketched across every sedimentary face, bloodlust and bloodletting sinking into every golem. The stench of iron and copper suffused the entire battlefield, attacking my nostrils and trying to burrow into my head.


    A perfect depiction of the horrors of war. The Council of Etharia would adore such a brilliant still image. They would show this to the masses as an example of their dogma. After all, war caused casualties.


    And human life was always in short supply.


    But my mind was quickly drawn out of my vague distraction as I considered what might be happening. Wren was a stickler for timeliness, always exact in when his demonstrations started and ended. The only other time something similar happened was sometime a few months ago when each and every golem had simply dispersed out of nowhere.


    I had only heard from the asura the day after. He had berated me for stopping my training, but something in his eyes had gone blank.


    ¡°Wren?¡± I called out, my worry showing in my tone. ¡°I think something might¡¯ve gone wrong with¨C¡±


    The asura burst from the ground beside me, causing me to curse. ¡°Give a guy a warning next time,¡± I said. ¡°I was expecting to fight for a while longer,¡± I added.


    ¡°That can wait for a second, brat,¡± Wren said, banishing my questions. He held something in his hands. ¡°Something happened. I need you to test something for me. Right now.¡± The titan thrust his fist forward, revealing a familiar long, black rod clenched between white fingers. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I was startled by the asura¡¯s urgency. When had he ever been so pushy?


    I hesitantly took Dawn¡¯s Ballad back from its creator. ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± I asked. ¡°I thought you were only going to give me back my weapon when our training was done.¡±


    ¡°Must you lessers ask so many questions?¡± the asura snapped. ¡°Surely your human societies recognize the foolishness of asking pointless things. Your lives are already so short. I can¡¯t believe you¡¯d so readily waste time¨C¡±


    I frowned, disconcerted by the scathing nature of Wren¡¯s comments. ¡°Now, hold on¨C¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine!¡± Wren continued bitingly, wringing his hands. There was a wideness to his eyes that I hadn¡¯t seen before. ¡°I want to check something with that stick of yours. But I can¡¯t. I can draw it, but it''s bonded to you.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Alright.¡± The grumpy asura might have been a pain in the ass, but he¡¯d reliably helped me for months on end. Drawing my own sword was the least I could do.


    I laid my hand on the familiar handle, closing my eyes. I looked deep at my core, feeling the power I kept locked deep in my well of mana. Drawing Sylvia¡¯s Will to the surface, I slowly unsheathed Dawn¡¯s Ballad.


    I expected to withdraw the familiar, translucent teal blade that had been my companion for over half a decade. The thin double-edged weapon had reaped the lives of dozens of mana beasts in my hands, and the blade was as familiar to me as my own core.


    Instead, the blade I held in my hands sported a strange, orangish purple tinge running up the central ridge. The colors flickered and flowed like blood as they intermingled with teal, turning the normally translucent blade solid. I stared, wide-eyed, then looked back to Wren.


    ¡°Wren? What¡¯s happening to Dawn¡¯s Ballad?¡± I asked. It didn¡¯t feel


    any different from what I could tell. But who knew what this might herald?


    The titan didn¡¯t seem to hear me. His eyes were transfixed on the striations of orange-purple running along my sword. ¡°So you do still live, don¡¯t you, ya old bird?¡± Wren whispered, staring at my weapon with visible awe.


    Seris Vritra


    I kept my presence suppressed for the time being, watching from above the Denoir Relictombs estate. It was a lavish building, filled with everything a highlord of the Central Dominion required to flaunt their power. Glittering fountains, ornate sculptures, complicated architecture, and priceless defensive wards came together to form a level of opulence that could satisfy even a Scythe.


    But the man I watched did not care for any of these shows. His eyes were reserved for one person: my protege down below, lounging near a fountain in one of the secluded gardens as she tried to put together a puzzle. She had been attempting to solve it for several hours, her deep navy hair blanketing her face.


    To her credit, it was one of the more challenging puzzles I could find: a little box that had interlocking wooden blocks. There was a way to unravel the structure by moving and sliding them about before the entire thing would come apart like an especially irritating knot. Some of the pieces had divots and pits, allowing you to slide other pieces past them. It was a mind-bending little object.


    Caera was so immersed in her task that the young woman failed to notice the man quietly sneaking toward her. He muffled his presence, simultaneously using one of his runes to reduce his weight. Caera cursed, causing the man to pause midstep, fearing he¡¯d been discovered.


    My young protege had merely misaligned one of the little pieces, resetting her progress from the past ten minutes. After realizing that he hadn¡¯t been discovered, the mage continued to prowl toward my unsuspecting student.


    Soon enough, he was close enough to reach for her throat.


    ¡°What¡¯re you working on?¡± he asked in a low voice, causing Caera to shriek and whirl around, her wild punch barely missing his nose.


    Caera looked startled at first, but her face immediately shifted to joy as she saw who had snuck up on her. ¡°Sevren!¡± she cried, wrapping him in a hug. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be in the Relictombs for a week more! What brought you back so soon?¡±


    I felt the edges of my lips twist slightly up at the happiness my student displayed. The joy she showed was reserved only for her foster brother. I hoped one day she would feel safe enough to let the world see it as well.


    Sevren Denoir had wider features than his adopted sister. His untamed hair was a brilliant white, one of the traits he inherited from his mother. Today he was sporting a thin goatee and mustache, which complemented the wide smile on his face. The teal cloak he wore matched the olive tunic underneath.


    ¡°I was going on a normal ascent, true,¡± the young man replied, separating from his sister. He covertly glanced about the garden, searching for prying eyes.


    He did not notice my presence above.


    ¡°I usually stay past the convergence zones, but something changed this time.¡± There was a subtle shift in his face as he said the words. ¡°I found something. I had to return a bit early because of that.¡±


    Caera¡¯s scarlet eyes took on a conspiratorial sheen as she quickly caught on to her brother¡¯s hesitance. ¡°You discovered something about aether,¡± she whispered. ¡°Found some sort of insight in the Relictombs.¡±


    He hadn¡¯t exactly, but the Sovereigns would flay him alive if they figured out what he¡¯d done. I had worked quite hard to keep his actions under wraps over the past week or so. He wasn¡¯t nearly as covert as he thought. I wondered if the Denoir heir knew the punishment that would await him if he was discovered. He probably did, or at least had a guess. The young man was rash, but he wasn¡¯t stupid.


    Sevren¡¯s eyes sharpened. His pupils were as green as his cloak, something that drew the attention of many who met him. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. But I might eventually. I¡­ I did something. But we can¡¯t talk about it here.¡±


    Caera frowned, detecting something in his undertone. ¡°Brother¡­¡± she started.


    I chose to reveal myself then, slowly letting the ambient mana set me down.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Sevren reacted immediately, shifting so he was between his sister and me. His teal eyes stared at me with a mix of fear and determination. I wondered what was going on in his head. He probably wondered how much of his conversation I had heard. After a brief moment where the man visibly considered his choices, he bowed at the waist. ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± he said, keeping his eyes trained on the grass.


    Such blatant hostility.


    ¡°Lord Denoir,¡± I said in greeting, my feet touching the ground without a sound. My black battledress settled around me. ¡°You may rise,¡± I said.


    Sevren kept his eyes trained away from me, though he straightened slightly as I gave him permission to do so. Perhaps he thought that if he avoided my gaze, I would not see the hatred within.


    ¡°I surmise you have just returned from an ascent, Lord Denoir? Perhaps you can tell me about your experiences later today,¡± I said, watching him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure any stories a simple ascender like myself could tell have been heard a thousand times over by you,¡± he tried. ¡°I am not so sure you would find my stories interesting.¡±


    I tilted my head, letting a hint of amusement show on my face. ¡°On the contrary, Lord Denoir. Every new tale from the Relictombs is a boon to the Sovereigns, no matter what either of us may think of them.¡±


    It was a simple bit of manipulation, really. I had to direct that anger of his.


    ¡°I am afraid I have plans to journey back into the Relictombs shortly,¡± the man lied. ¡°I only have a couple of hours free, which I was hoping to spend with my sister.¡±


    And not with you,


    he implied. Other Scythes had killed men for lesser slights.


    I let out a sigh, feigning disappointment. ¡°Very well. Next time you leave a descension chamber, make sure to contact me. You are Highblood Denoir¡¯s rising star, after all. It would be a shame if nobody heard your voice and how you bring glory to your Blood.¡±


    I saw a muscle clench in Sevren¡¯s jaw. ¡°I will make sure to do so,¡± he said, the second lie of this conversation.


    ¡°But I need to speak with my student for the moment,¡± I said, letting my mask of impassivity return. ¡°You are dismissed for now, Lord Denoir. You will have your sister back in a short while.¡±


    Sevren spared a glance through white bangs at his adoptive sister, clearly nervous, before stalking out of the garden. Caera watched him go reluctantly, before turning back to me with a visible pout.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to keep pushing him,¡± she said with a bit of sadness. ¡°He just wants what¡¯s best for me.¡±


    He is one of the only people on this continent who wants what is best for you, dear Caera, I thought. But I do need to keep pushing him.


    I had to keep the heir to the Denoirs guarded around me. That hatred he held for the Vritra clan needed to be fostered and harnessed for the future, and he perceived my tutoring of his sister as a blatant attempt to draft her into the High Sovereign¡¯s games.


    If I were any other Scythe, he would have been correct. But I represented the things he hated about the High Sovereign¡¯s rule. I only needed to keep making them obvious to him. And there were many ways to do it.


    Like interrupting a private conversation with his sister, and then forcing him to retreat as my relationship took social precedence over his. I leveraged my power over him, and in turn, pushed him to despise Agrona¡¯s power structure even more. His dislike for me was not personal, but circumstantial.


    Though perhaps there was a bit of animosity he held. I could work through that eventually.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid what we want is not always what we get, Caera.¡± I looked at her pointedly. ¡°Have you progressed at all in that puzzle I gave you?¡±


    I knew the answer, but it was essential to ask nonetheless.


    The young woman deflated, holding the little cubish puzzle aloft. ¡°No, Scythe Seris. I can¡¯t seem to figure out the fourth piece. It refuses to budge, no matter how I try.¡±


    I let the edges of my lips turn up slightly as took the puzzle from her offered hand. I poked and prodded at the pieces, quickly removing part after part. Caera watched with her mouth agape as I disassembled the toy. Then I pieced it back together, letting the small wooden object rest in my palm.


    ¡°The key is in how far you move each piece,¡± I said, holding the little toy between two fingers. ¡°Push too far, and your advance is blocked by other pieces. Move them too little, and you¡¯ll make no progress at all. But keep your movement right at an equilibrium,¡± I slightly shifted one of the tiny logs. Many of them had tiny indents, allowing you to shift another piece past like a dagger sliding between ribs. I successfully withdrew one of the pieces from the jumble. ¡°And you can accomplish your goal. This requires no mana at all, only the right state of mind.¡±


    Caera had a thoughtful frown on her face as she took the toy back, fiddling with the pieces once more. I watched with glittering eyes as my protege carefully applied my little lesson. She fumbled here and there, but Caera was nothing if not determined. After a little over a minute, she managed to remove the fourth piece.


    Just a little nudge and the woman figures it out on her own. That was something of a trend with my pupil.


    ¡°Well done, Caera,¡± I said with a slight smile.


    She looked up at me with a grin of her own. I had a feeling that the puzzle wouldn¡¯t remain a challenge for much longer.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I didn¡¯t visit you today just to steal you away from your brother and give you the secrets to a puzzle,¡± I said.


    She perked up, frowning slightly. ¡°What do you mean, Scythe Seris?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to be returning to my estate in Aedelgard for a while,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll return when I can, however.¡±


    Caera¡¯s face fell. ¡°Will we be able to train when you get back?¡± she asked. The young Lady Denoir had shown remarkable talent in using soulfire, but it needed a guiding hand and refinement. The woman was smart enough to know this.


    ¡°I promise you we will have the time to train your mana arts with more focus when I return,¡± I said, rising into the air slightly. ¡°Do finish that puzzle before I get back. I would hate to have to do it again.¡±


    A spark of competitiveness flashed in Caera¡¯s scarlet eyes, making my lips turn up slightly. Yes, I suspected she¡¯d be done with that little toy by the end of the day.


    I watched Sevren Denoir rush back to his sister. They quickly descended into conversation.


    He wouldn¡¯t tell her of what he¡¯d done in the Relictombs, no matter how much he hinted at it. It was for the same reason I kept my plans hidden from Caera, regardless of how much I trusted her now.


    I turned and flew towards the portal to the first layer of the Relictombs. I kept my presence close, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Once I reached the first layer, I navigated to the descension portals. The guards on staff hastily shuffled to key the portal to Aedelgard at my direction. They couldn¡¯t afford the slightest slip-up in the presence of a Scythe.


    Stepping through the shimmering purple plane, I was greeted by the salty scent of seawater and the kiss of mist on my skin. I floated into the air, observing the Vritra¡¯s Maw sea from the sky. The water was vast and endless, and I couldn¡¯t see the other side, no matter how much I enhanced my vision with mana.


    Sometimes, I imagined that this sea was endless, with no opposite shore. There would be an infinite expanse of islands and continents across it, all untouched by man and asura alike. Pure, untamed nature.


    It was a wonderful sight. Though the landscape did not have the glittering fountains, ornate sculptures, and complicated architecture of the Denoirs¡¯ Relictombs estate, it was no less beautiful to me.


    Before I could bank toward my home, however, I sensed a presence approaching rapidly from the direction of my own estate. Cylrit stood ramrod straight as he drifted toward me, his expression pinched.


    If he flew to meet me, it must be something important, I reasoned. The man was a stickler for protocol, evidenced by how he bowed to me in the air.


    ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± he said. ¡°It is good to see you back.¡±


    ¡°At ease, Cylrit,¡± I said, raising a brow. His back straightened. ¡°You must have news if you deigned to meet me just as I left the portal.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± my retainer replied. ¡°A week or so ago, our scanners picked up an asuran presence in Fiachra,¡± he said without preamble. ¡°You were not present for me to give the information to, so as per your orders, I suppressed any knowledge about it from leaving the city.¡±


    I nodded but didn¡¯t display any of the thoughts on my face. We began to drift back toward my estate, Cylrit slightly behind me. ¡°Have you located the source of the presence? I assume it is another sign of latent manifestation.¡±


    I was personally involved in the creation of the asura-detecting artifacts placed all throughout the continent of Alacrya. While I couldn¡¯t affect the ones in place, I had a personal design that was more advanced than most were led to believe. It allowed me to shift pieces on the great board before they were even players.


    One of the things my sensors were programmed to detect was signs of Vritra heritage manifesting. They occurred intermittently in young mages as they trained. The power in their blood would surge now and then, sending out a detectable signal.


    ¡°Pardon me, Scythe Seris, this one is¡­ strange. The signal could not have been a true asura¨Cotherwise, I am certain the Sovereigns would have intervened personally¨Cbut it seems to be something entirely different from what we usually see in basilisk blood manifesting.¡±


    I hummed aloud, considering his words. ¡°Let us see what this development brings, shall we?¡±


    Lady Dawn


    I lingered on the edge of human perception, feeling the emotion that roiled through my Contractor as he played each successive chord. It was a solemn song he played, but there was an undercurrent of racing hope within it.


    I had a sense that there were words that were meant to be sung along with the music, but my Contractor was too immersed in his art to open his mouth.


    The sound weaved through the room, his arm moving in precise movements as the bow slid across the strings. I wondered absently how the men of this world could create something so amazing; so unique. If music was not divine, then I did not know what could be.


    His emotions thundered across our link. His fear, tied so deeply to his purpose in this world, was prominent in every note he played. But now there was hope. A possibility of a better tomorrow. His confidence had been boosted by his triumph over his enemies. And though he lay battered in a hospital room, forced to remain by the aches and pains of his body, he was freer than he had ever been in this world.


    I would need to teach him to mask his emotions. I had the distinct sense he was purposefully broadcasting them now: not so much to me directly, but just to express himself. And so I listened, trying to understand this Contractor of mine.


    His knowledge of this world unnerved me, true. There were things no man should know; secrets too personal and close. And yet this man¨Cthis boy¨Cknew the answers to questions asura had been asking for centuries. Integration. Agrona and Kezess¡¯s true natures, like two sides of the same coin. And the name of my son, nearly lost to me.


    He adapted to his new life remarkably quickly. That was certainly in part due to his merge with the body¡¯s previous soul, given willingly, but it was also from a drive I didn¡¯t understand. What pushed him on? What made him care?


    I wanted to know. I understood his need for vengeance. I knew that as deeply as I knew myself. But the man I¡¯d chosen as Contractor was not consumed by his rage. It was a piece of him, but far from the whole.


    My life of misting shadow and perpetual twilight was a lonely one. The world continued on, unaware of my existence. I watched and contemplated, only visible to one. I wondered if this was the fate of all lost souls, to wander the earth, unable to be seen or heard.


    My body was dead, after all. For all intents and purposes, I was a spirit.


    As my Contractor¡¯s playing picked up, the notes of music pulled old memories to the surface.


    The tempo rose, the rich tones evoking contrasting emotions. His rhythm spoke of triumph, but just behind was the potential of failure. When the coin flipped, where would the next chord land? A soaring, thrilling success? Or the low, mellow draw of despair?


    I caught myself as I thought. When had I last felt these emotions? Let them flow? How long had I kept them contained, fearful that any hint of feeling would be ripped away by my captor?


    I remembered holding a newborn Chul in my arms. Andravhor stood to the side, his runemarked purple skin a contrast to my own pale tone. And our son, the first djinn to be born in a century, wailed into the sky as if he could bring it down. His eyes were mismatched: one orange, another blue. Proof of his heritage.


    But there was no longer a black void that took the place of every memory of my son. The wounds in my mind healed as my Contractor advanced in power. He did not know it, but he gave a dead woman her life back.


    It had been so long since I let myself feel. I wondered absently when I had walled myself off. Was it when Agrona began to pick at my mind? Before then?


    But I felt sorrow as my Contractor¡¯s instrument coasted through lower notes, producing melancholy rhythms. The coin had landed on tails and the tune dove down low in turn. I knew, deep down, that I had stopped myself from feeling long before Agrona kept me in his dungeons. I knew precisely when I¡¯d severed my emotions. But with the ever-present connection to someone who felt so wholly, I could not suppress my own feelings any longer.


    But again, the melody changed, rising up again. Failure was not the end, merely the prelude to victory. Each small block of despair built a magnificent temple to success. As my Contractor slowly finished his song, drawing out one long, vibrating note, I felt each emotion as he let them loose. I stared into his eyes, though he could not see me do so.


    ¡°Most call me Lady Dawn,¡± I said to the boy over our Bond. ¡°But those I hold close know me as Aurora Asclepius.¡±

 Chapter 48: To Move Forward [End of Book 1]

    Toren Daen


    The page of my book turned as I finished reading it. It was outlined in a dull white, seeming to keep it aloft as I scanned the paper.


    I was still stuck in bed, even after a few days awake. My body was recovering at an increased pace, and I was currently being evaluated to see if I would need to stay any longer.


    A nurse was currently poking at my ribs with a slightly baffled expression. Considering they¡¯d been shattered over a week ago, it made sense she¡¯d be a little unnerved by the fact that my bones had reknit themselves.


    I felt a gentle prod over my mental bond with Lady Dawn¨CAurora¨Cas another book floated nearby. With a nudge of my emblem, the page turned on that book as well, allowing the invisible asura to keep reading.


    ¡°Considering how well you¡¯ve healed, Lord Daen,¡± the nurse said respectfully, ¡°You¡¯ll be free to go any time,¡± she finished. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I nodded, smiling in thanks. ¡°Thanks for your help these past few days,¡± I said honestly. This woman had seen to my care after Trelza stopped doing it himself.


    The nurse nodded. I didn¡¯t recognize her from when I¡¯d worked here as a healer¡¯s assistant. A few days ago, I¡¯d asked the woman when she¡¯d started. Apparently, she transferred here barely after my own injury.


    ¡°It was my pleasure to help you recover, even if it seems you have it well in hand,¡± she said. The grey-haired woman then frowned. ¡°Pardon me for asking, but¡­ is it a rune that makes your healing faster?¡±


    I had made an effort to cover my runes from even the people who attended me. I didn¡¯t know who else had seen my singular emblem, but considering I hadn¡¯t been hauled off to the Sovereigns, I doubted it had caused a fuss.


    ¡°It might be,¡± I said with a bit of a conspiratorial smile. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll have to keep guessing.¡±


    The woman shrugged, unphased by my response. After a couple more questions regarding my health, she excused herself from my stark-white room.


    ¡°Your control of your spellform has improved rapidly,¡± Lady Dawn said as the woman left the room. The Unseen World washed over my vision, dampening the colors in the room. Since my capture by Lawrent Joan, the phoenix had taken to speaking over our bond as well as out loud.


    She gave me another subtle prod over our telepathic tether. The sensation was odd: it felt like a string vibrating across my mind. Noting the signal, I used my emblem to turn the page of her book again. The phoenix appeared to be sitting in a nearby chair, the book hovering in front of her eyes.


    I¡¯ve had nothing to do for the past few days but read and test my magic, I replied over our bond. The asura encouraged me to refine my ability to communicate mentally, even though my first instinct was to respond out loud. If I didn¡¯t improve at least a little bit, there would be no point.


    The changes to my telekinesis as it upgraded from a crest to an emblem were manyfold. I could exert many more pushes and pulls at once, the strain on my mind minimal. No longer was I limited to just three.


    Furthermore, the force I could exert over a distance increased dramatically. Where before my ability to affect objects decreased exponentially as the distance from my body increased, now that force decreased linearly. It was also far less taxing to maintain a telekinetic effect for a while, though that could still change depending on what I was trying to affect.


    However, there were still limitations. If I wished to control something, it couldn¡¯t be too heavy. The heavier an object was, the greater the drain on my mana and mind it would be.


    I turned to another page with my mind. I¡¯d been holding up both Lady Dawn¡¯s and my own book for an hour or so now. Considering I barely moved them from a stationary position and each book was relatively light, the mana drain was barely worth noticing.


    ¡°Nonetheless, it is worth acknowledging,¡±


    Lady Dawn said. I felt a bit of mild annoyance from her whenever I thought of her as Lady Dawn instead of Aurora, but I wasn¡¯t comfortable calling her by that name yet.


    I read the last couple of words of my book, Treatise on the Four Elements of Mana in Relation to their Natural Counterparts.


    Well, that¡¯s one mystery solved, I thought to myself. Which came first, the element or the mana affinity?The answer, at least according to this book, is that there isn¡¯t one.


    Though I was pretty sure it was the element. After all, fire, earth, wind, and water existed in my previous world where there was no such thing as mana.


    Take that, mana scholars, I thought. I just invalidated your life¡¯s work through the power of an outside, unverifiable perspective.


    I floated the book over to my table, then felt tempted to grab my violin again. I¡¯d gotten back into a rhythm over the last few days as I played music once more, feeling the fulfilling peace of music again.


    I didn¡¯t think I would ever be able to pick up an instrument again, but something changed as I remembered Toren¡¯s last moments. Make the world a better place.


    And music made things easier, didn¡¯t it? Made it possible to push through hell?


    I pulled myself up from the bed, testing my weight on my legs. I was getting sick of wearing this hospital gown, but I respected the traditions of the Healer¡¯s Guild. I stretched my arms and legs, working out my aches.


    I picked up a nearby dimension ring, put it on, and shuffled through its contents. I retrieved a pair of dark slacks and a high-collared bright tunic, delivered to me not long ago.


    I¡¯d lost my dimension ring in the wreckage of the Joan estate, but Hofal had passed by a couple of days ago to see how I was recovering. The man had slipped a dimension ring to me with storage a bit larger than my last one, along with a few supplies.


    I changed quickly, happy to be out of the gown. Thankfully, everything I owned fit inside the ring.


    Granted, that wasn¡¯t much. Just the books I¡¯d borrowed and my violin.


    ¡°You will have to be cautious in displaying your abilities openly,¡± Lady Dawn said suddenly. My shirt was off, and my chain tattoo was on full display. The phoenix shade was staring at it intently.


    I turned to her slightly, opening my mouth to speak. At her unamused expression, I sheepishly closed it, focusing on our telepathic link instead. I haven¡¯t been the best about hiding my power, but I don¡¯t think anybody¡¯s guessed I have an asura living in my core, I replied.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The phoenix cocked her head, standing from her chair. ¡°I have been constantly suppressing the asuran mark to your mana signature ever since we bonded,¡± the phoenix said. ¡°But when you used the first phase of your Beast Will, my ability to mask what you truly wield¡­ faltered.¡±


    My eyes widened as I realized the implications. Arthur covered the mark on his arm that hinted at Sylvie¡¯s bond with a dragon feather, masking its signature to the outside world. Apparently, Lady Dawn had been actively doing that for me.


    I peeked at the red chain tattoo on my left arm that wrapped the limb like a brand. I didn¡¯t think there was a dragon feather large enough to cover all of that.


    ¡°Though I do not expect it to happen with regular mana usage, it will become more difficult to suppress as you grow in power. I suggest we find a way to mask it entirely.¡±


    I¡¯ll see what I can find, I replied, already trying to think if I knew of any solutions. But it wasn¡¯t an immediate problem as long as I didn¡¯t use my Beast Will.


    Once I cinched my boots, I stood up and looked at the table. On it was the signet ring of Named Blood Daen, the etched symbol of a dagger bleeding rivers of runes intimately familiar. I picked it up, feeling its weight. It was made of solid metal and shone with a golden color, but I was sure it wasn¡¯t actually forged of gold.


    It was made of something far more precious. I held it up, thinking about how long this symbol had hidden beneath my shirt, tucked safely against my breast.


    I slipped it onto my right hand, the band fitting me perfectly. Named Blood Daen no longer had a reason to hide.


    ¡ª


    I exited the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild several minutes later, discharged and with a few instructions on how to care for whatever wounds might relapse. I still ached all over and I had a new scar on my shoulder to show off, but otherwise, I was mostly healed.


    I took in the fresh air outside, savoring the kiss of winter. It was early December now, and the snow was heavy on the ground. I spied a few men working to clear it manually from the streets.


    I pulled on mana from my core, the act of distributing mana across my body occurring far faster now that my core was a dark yellow. The suffusion helped ward off the chill in the air, but the light cloak I wore did the rest. My breath misted in the air as I stepped out with trepidation.


    I began my walk with slow steps, picking up speed as I went. I didn¡¯t need to fear showing my face anymore. I didn¡¯t need to fear being a Daen.


    I followed familiar streets through East Fiachra as I slowly meandered toward my destination. I was taking the long way, I knew. Was it because I was afraid of the destination? Or because I simply enjoyed being out?


    I watched a boat as it drifted down one of East Fiachra¡¯s few canals, its drab colors matching the atmosphere about. The ferryman kept on no matter the day, no matter the occurrence.


    I finally reached the gates of my destination. They were rundown, as was much of the surrounding area. Rust coated the entrance sign, which caused my heart to lurch. A thin wire fence ran far in either direction, cordoning off a specific section of this place.


    And so here we are, I said, staring at the entrance sign as if it were the hand of death. The end of the road.


    I stared at those words for far too long, shifting in place. The letters of Alacrya were so close to those of my past life to be unnerving.


    But I couldn¡¯t stall forever. I gathered my wits, stuffing my reservations into a little box. I pushed open the doors, entering the East Fiachra Cemetery with muffled steps. A layer of white snow covered everything in a pearlescent sheen, small cops of trees and overgrown patches of plantlife slowly taking this land back to nature.


    Gravestones dotted the hills around, most with names impossible to read from weathering over countless years. The simple landscape almost felt alien to me: I was beginning to expect every hill to be run through with a tunnel. But this place was overgrown from lack of care.


    I slowly plodded along the thin dirt path, only visible because of a slight indent in the snow. My boots compressed the snow with each step, the sounds following me as I moved.


    I looked to the side every now and then as I hiked, looking at the gravestones that could be deciphered.


    John Londsen. Garlan Endor. May Primsight.


    A few graves had flowers by them, with a clear memory and affection dedicated to the slabs of stone. But there were countless more that were abandoned, worn, and forgotten by all that lived.


    Do these people live again somewhere? I wondered to myself. Reincarnated and given a second chance? Of all these forgotten people, I am the one who gets to walk again. Surely I am not alone in that.


    Lady Dawn must have heard my silent introspection, but she stayed thankfully silent. Toren would have fallen into obscurity if he had stayed dead in that forest. Nobody would lay roses at his grave if there was ever a stone carved for him. He would have become less than a footnote in history. What set me apart from John Londsen? Or Garlan Endor? Or May Primsight?


    I continued for a while, finally cutting off as I neared a copse of trees. The path diverged, leading me to the newer stones. These had polish and respect still dedicated to them. I saw flags here and there, one I recognized from the history books on the wars between Vechor and Sehz-Clar. Veterans, the soldiers buried with the common man.


    I slowed to a stop as I reached the final gravestone. It was small and simple, only a bare slab of grey rock.


    Except for the words carved on the face.


    Norgan Daen


    December 10th, 1720 - October 4th, 1736


    I stared down at my brother¡¯s grave, trying to put together some sort of message to him. What did I say to him? Now that I was here, all my carefully planned words seemed to slip from my mind, vanishing into the cold winter air.


    He would¡¯ve turned sixteen in a few days if he was still alive.


    ¡°Hey, Norgan,¡± I said with some difficulty. ¡°I, uh¡­ I¡¯m sorry it took so long for me to get to you. I was a bit preoccupied.¡± I rolled my next words around in my mind for a minute. ¡°I remember you telling me ages ago that you¡¯d like your body to be left in the Relictombs if you died there, even if most Sehz-Clarians look down on that kind of thing. I¡¯m sorry that you didn¡¯t get that. But the woman who killed you? She¡¯s dead. I slit her throat myself.¡±


    Killing Kaelan Joan had been cathartic. It proved to me I had power; that I wasn¡¯t some helpless fool dragged around by the whims of fate. I could fight back against those who hurt me.


    But in the end, it didn¡¯t change anything. My brother was still dead. I was still wanted by an entire Blood, a kill order sent out by those at the top.


    It was truly ironic that the only way for me to be truly safe was to end every last one of the Joans, just as they had the Daens so long ago. When I thought of it that way, it felt a lot less like justice, no matter the truth. I was reduced to a murderer to spare my own life.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s a pretty shitty birthday present,¡± I mused, staring off into the clouded sky. ¡°I remember you wanted to fight with gauntlets. There was something about a brawl that you excelled in. A thrill I never quite got.¡±


    I shuffled, fighting back choked emotion. ¡°In my previous world, they had a whole bunch of stories about this kind of thing. Reincarnated into a whole, new world. Given a second chance to do right by yourself. But now that I¡¯m here, living it, I can¡¯t imagine enjoying anything like that again.¡±


    I clenched my fist, inspecting the snow beneath me. It was so pure and white, untouched by the blackness of the earth. Eventually, however, it would melt.


    ¡°Truth is, I¡¯m not sure if you would call me your brother as I am right now. I, uh¡­ I¡¯m not entirely sure how much of me is Toren, and how much of me is me. Would you actually see your brother if you looked at me right now? Or some impostor that ate his soul?¡±


    I would never be able to answer that question. But that didn¡¯t stop it from gnawing at me. Toren had willingly given his whole being to me, body and soul, as he lay dying. And I thought the boy buried at my feet was my brother. I could see him as nothing but. But would the feeling have been mutual?


    I paused, feeling my eyes growing a bit wet. I closed them, releasing a shuddering breath. ¡°I¡¯ve got another goal now,¡± I said, pushing away unanswerable questions. ¡°And I need to grow strong for that. Norgan, I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m going to be an ascender. Fulfill our dream. Maybe bring accolades and glory to Named Blood Daen along the way.¡±


    It didn¡¯t have the same charm as going in together. We were going to be a dynamic duo, an unstoppable force. Nobody would stand in the way of the Brothers Daen.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring back stories, at least,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about the wonders I see. The adventures I¡¯ll have. It won¡¯t be the same as seeing it yourself, I know. But.. but even more than that?¡± I opened my eyes, staring at the bold letters declaring my brother¡¯s name. ¡°I want to make this world a bit better. I¡¯ve seen some things since you left, Norgan. And I think I can, maybe. I¡¯ll be somebody you could be proud of,¡± I said, making a silent vow to the stone. ¡°And I hope that one day, you¡¯ll get your own second life.¡±


    I wiped at my face, then turned away from the stone. The sun was setting, and it was time to leave.

 Chapter 49: Package [Start of Book 2]

    Toren Daen


    I dropped down the shaft of the Cistern, landing without a sound. Standing up, I dusted off my cloak, peering around the familiar setting. It was a bit colder here than in the open air, but another pull on my mana core managed to warm me up.


    I considered what I was going to say when I met the rest of the Rats. When I first joined the crew a few weeks ago, I had joined partially for companionship. But as part of my deal with Karsien, once the Joans were dealt with, I was free to leave.


    I didn¡¯t want to cut ties with them. They were good people, not just for me, but for the entire city. I¡¯d be going into the Relictombs regularly, true, but I did need a home base outside the djinn¡¯s deathtrap.


    And I planned to keep helping East Fiachra in the future. Even if I didn¡¯t take part in thieving missions on the regular, I¡¯d be more than willing to supply these people financially.


    My plans were thoroughly derailed when I entered the main room of the Cistern. Each and every one of the Rats were surrounding the planning table.


    Hofal and Karsien looked distinctly worried, the former tapping his foot with a frown on his face as he stared at something I couldn¡¯t quite make out. Wade sat back in a chair, a strange mashup of awe and concern fighting for dominance on his face.


    Naereni¡¯s eyes glittered even from here. She alone seemed to have uncomplicated feelings about whatever had happened.


    ¡°Am I interrupting something?¡± I asked, walking in slowly. Naereni shook her head, but Wade nodded. Huh.


    Then I looked at what he was holding in his arms. It was a dark brown creature, covered in light scales and with a rodent¡¯s nose. A ring of whitish fur rimmed its eyes.


    It was a baby skaunter. It looked at me, tilting its head inquisitively from the nestle of Wade¡¯s arms.


    And it was panting. Like a dog.


    Abso-fucking-lutelynot.


    ¡°What the hell is that thing doing here?!¡± I said, pointing at the little skaunter, remembering how one of them had shredded my arms. ¡°It''s a wild mana beast!¡±


    ¡°It is not!¡± Naereni cried indignantly, standing between my accusing finger and the clearly savage beast. ¡°It was a gift! And his name is Apple!¡±


    ¡°I was going to pick-¡± Wade started saying from behind the girl.


    ¡°His name,¡± Naereni reiterated, not looking back at Wade, ¡°Is Apple!¡±


    Wade furrowed his brow, then his eyes widened as he flushed crimson. ¡°Apple it is,¡± he said, some sort of private joke landing.


    ¡°It¡¯s a skaunter!¡± I said, trying to get my point across. The little beast looked at me with wide, endearing eyes, making a little skittering cough. I wouldn¡¯t be fooled.


    ¡°It''s tamed to be a pet,¡± Hofal added from the side, a complicated expression on his face. Surely he didn¡¯t endorse keeping that thing? ¡°And Wade thinks it has a unique synergy with his runes.¡±


    I glared at the little mana beast until it curled into a ball, whimpering slightly in Wade¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Stop being sour, Toren,¡± Naereni said. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, you¡¯ve got your own gift, too.¡±


    I reeled back. Why would I want a skaunter? Those things were tiny demons!


    Hofal diffused the situation with a huff. ¡°It was good work you did against the Joans,¡± he said, changing the topic. ¡°Though perhaps you should think before rushing into danger.¡±


    I winced internally, remembering how I¡¯d left the shield behind. That might not have been the smartest move.


    ¡°The shield speaks wisdom, Contractor. You would do well to listen,¡± Lady Dawn added over our bond.


    Thanks for telling me to stay healthy, disembodied voice in my head, I replied.


    ¡°I learned my lesson doing that,¡± I said averting my gaze. ¡°Nearly got blown to smithereens from that cabin bomb.¡±


    Wade groaned. ¡°The man who carted you off and knocked me out,¡± he started. ¡°Remember him?¡±


    ¡°Dornar Joan?¡± I added, suddenly remembering that I hadn¡¯t seen his body. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I realized I would probably have to track him down. But without Blood Joan¡¯s resources and reputation, he¡¯d be far less of a threat.


    ¡°That man,¡± Wade affirmed. ¡°Though Hofal called him Flint,¡± I noticed Hofal flinch at the name. Karsien¡¯s eyes simply hardened. Why? ¡°He was the one who represented Blood Joan at the meetings I listened in on. Considering how fast he went for me, I think he figured out my rune. Or at least that the meetings were being watched. I don¡¯t see how else they¡¯d figure out to move their distillery right after we figure out where it is.¡±


    I frowned, running that over in my head.


    ¡°Thank you, though,¡± Naereni piped up. She was sitting on the armrest of Wade¡¯s chair, and as she spoke she wrapped an arm around his neck like she owned the place. The little skaunter nipped lightly at her hands. ¡°That explosion woulda killed me for sure. Even if you tripped the trap, you were likely the only one who could¡¯ve survived.¡±


    Hofal grunted in affirmation and a bit of guilt. ¡°I should¡¯ve kept trying to follow you, Toren.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I¡­ I went ahead deliberately. You can¡¯t fault yourself for not being able to keep up in speed.¡± That didn¡¯t seem to help, though.


    Karsien was uncharacteristically quiet, something that drew my attention more than anything else.


    ¡°He is ruminating on something,¡± Lady Dawn offered. ¡°Considering what to say, or if he should speak at all.¡±


    ¡°There have been complications regarding the destruction of the Joans,¡± Karsien said, his words cutting across the conversation like a blade. ¡°Regarding the aftermath.¡±


    I zeroed in on him. Had Dornar Joan managed to do something? I should¡¯ve killed the psychopathic bastard.


    ¡°Another party claimed credit for the destruction of Blood Joan a few days ago,¡± Karsien said, leaning over the planning table. ¡°And they have been successful in convincing most that they were involved.¡±


    I started. That was not what I was expecting. My mind started to pick up speed as I tried to work through the implications. Was this good for us? Bad?


    ¡°How did they manage that?¡± I asked, needing more information. ¡°I thought it would be pretty obvious the Rats were the ones who decimated their blithe supply.¡±


    ¡°It was obvious,¡± Karsien continued. ¡°Our plan was everything it needed to be. Loud. Flashy. Destructive. But it was originally never supposed to involve the estate of a well-regarded Blood.¡±


    Wade spoke up, seeming to connect a few dots in his head. ¡°We should all be being hounded like dogs,¡± he said, a mix of emotions in his voice. ¡°It¡¯s one thing to destroy an already illegal operation that our Scythe has expressed dislike for. It¡¯s another to blow up their home. One makes us heroes, the other terrorists.¡±


    Lady Dawn supplied more conjecture, helping my thoughts keep up. ¡°So, why are the Rats not desperately hiding? What is missing here, Contractor?¡±


    Somebody stepped in, I realized. Somebody powerful enough to shelter the Rats. Intentionally or not.


    ¡°This other party managed to convince people that the Rats weren¡¯t alone in this,¡± I said. ¡°What did they do?¡±


    ¡°Bloodstone Elixirs,¡± Karsien said. ¡°A multi-dominion merchant conglomerate that supplies ascenders, hospitals, and even the research academies with potions. They¡¯re extremely powerful. And they released a public statement denouncing Blood Joan and their blithe production.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how that indicates they were involved with us,¡± I said skeptically. ¡°What aren¡¯t you telling me?¡±


    Karsien looked at me long and hard from under his mask. His bandana was up today, covering his lower face. I knew he was not smiling. ¡°They recruited each and every mage that helped you escape the Joans into their security forces, minus our own band.¡±


    My blood went cold. I remembered seeing Aban and Vaelum right before I passed out. They had come to save me, and now it sounded like they¡¯d been pressured into joining this company.


    ¡°They are clever,¡± Lady Dawn acknowledged over our bond. ¡°The others that assisted you all worked for Blood Joan before their rescue attempt. With this, it appears they were spies planted all along, primed to turn on their false masters and raze their home to the ground in one fell swoop.¡±


    I swallowed heavily. ¡°Are they hostile?¡± I asked. ¡°Considering you all aren¡¯t being searched for like I was, I doubt there¡¯s some sort of kill order on your heads put out by these folks.¡±


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    ¡°We never stole from them,¡± Naereni said helpfully. ¡°So they shouldn¡¯t have a reason to attack us.¡±


    Well, considering a band of thieves just wiped out an entire production operation, I¡¯d be worried if I were an elixir conglomerate. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then Hofal dropped the bomb. ¡°There were gifts for each of the Rats left in the Cistern for us to discover,¡± he said, his foot starting to tap again. ¡°The sender was labeled as Bloodstone Elixirs.¡±


    I paled. Oh. Oh shit.


    ¡°Yeah, that was my reaction,¡± Wade said, sinking into his chair. He hefted the little skaunter into the air. It made puppy eyes at me as it drooled on the floor, but I wouldn¡¯t be fooled. ¡°This was what I was given.¡±


    ¡°I just got a nice set of rings,¡± Naereni piped up. She hadn¡¯t removed her arm from around Wade¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I am going to make a killing selling them!¡±


    Hofal held up what looked like a small ball of clay. I watched as he imbued it with mana, my jaw dropping as it morphed into impossibly detailed shapes. ¡°This is called tombcrust. There are places in the Relictombs where this substance can be harvested. It responds amazingly well to intent and earth mana, meaning it¡¯s exceptionally easy to shape.¡±


    The little glob of earth proceeded to mimic some arches, a detailed window pane, and then a front cutout of a temple. ¡°It¡¯s also worth its weight in gold.¡± The man looked almost shell-shocked from his gift.


    I turned to Karsien, but he wasn¡¯t forthcoming about whatever ¡®gift¡¯ he got. ¡°Are these¡­ bribes? Threats?¡± I asked, genuinely confused. For those to show up in the middle of the Cistern implied the place was compromised by outside forces. It made a powerful statement.


    ¡°The Rats won¡¯t need to worry about being harmed by Bloodstone Elixirs,¡± Karsien said mysteriously, turning away. ¡°But it can never hurt to watch your steps even more.¡±


    The conversation stalled for a moment before the leader of the Rats spoke up again. ¡°Follow me, Toren. I need to speak with you alone.¡±


    ¡ª


    I hesitantly followed the Rat as he entered his room. I wasn¡¯t surprised by how he¡¯d decorated the place. A dartboard hung right next to the door, and a dozen different trinkets and trophies lined the walls.


    The Rat immediately sat down in a chair across from the dartboard, staring me down.


    ¡°What do you want to talk about away from the others?¡± I asked.


    Karsien watched me for a moment. Then he moved a hand to his face, gripping his masquerade mask on either side. He pulled it off, lowering it slowly.


    I blinked at what I saw. This was the first time I¡¯d seen Karsien without his mask.


    And I could understand why he wore it. His upper face was brutally scarred; the skin of horribly mismatched colors. Mottled pink splotches dotted his forehead, erasing any eyebrows he might have had. He was missing part of his nose, making him look almost like a skull had skin stretched over it tightly. I was amazed his eyes were intact.


    I took a step back, utterly unprepared for what was happening. ¡°What happened to you?¡± I asked, feeling conflicted.


    ¡°Dornar Joan,¡± Karsien replied. ¡°Or as Hofal knew him, Flint.¡±


    I reeled, trying haphazardly to cobble together all I knew of Karsien. ¡°That¡¯s who you wanted vengeance against,¡± I said, finally understanding. ¡°I¡­ I failed to kill him in that mansion. He¡¯s still out there, isn¡¯t he? That¡¯s why you wanted to talk to me?¡±


    ¡°No, he isn¡¯t,¡± Karsien replied, keeping his eyes locked on me. ¡°I killed him as he fled from you.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it. I fumbled for something to say. ¡°What did he do to you?¡± I asked. It felt like what the man wanted.


    ¡°I went on an ascent with him,¡± Karsien said without preamble. ¡°Several, in fact. The last one we went on together, however, I barely survived.¡±


    ¡°He turned on you,¡± I guessed.


    ¡°He did. For a simple accolade, something he had gotten a dozen times before. And the way he beat me down? Well, it gave me perspective. I wasn¡¯t any less of a slum rat than I had been before I got my runes.¡±


    Karsien looked contemplative for a moment before his expression hardened. It looked almost horrifying on his burned face. ¡°But when I clawed out of that pit, I didn¡¯t even know Flint¡¯s name. I did not know where to start.¡±


    ¡°How did you figure it out, then?¡± I asked, leaning against the doorframe. I tried to keep my eyes trained on Karsien¡¯s, refusing to let them wander. I thought he wanted me to stare. Wanted me to gawk. But I didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Renea Shorn,¡± Karsien replied. ¡°The leader of Bloodstone Elixirs.¡±


    I frowned, trying to figure out what all this meant. ¡°You do work for her,¡± I said, taking a guess. ¡°That¡¯s what the Rats have been: an aim at taking down the competitor of your boss, while also fulfilling your own vengeance.¡±


    Karsien shook his head very, very slowly. ¡°No. The woman simply told me a name and the first place I should look. From there, I built all of this myself,¡± he said, gesturing to his room, and I suspected the Rats as a whole.


    ¡°But after this, I have no doubt that this was her plan.¡± He paused, piercing me with the little dots of his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m clever, Toren Daen. I can see a dozen ways to manipulate you right now, not including your strange lack of runes.¡± I tensed at his words, but Karsien ignored my sudden nervousness, instead continuing his story. ¡°But this woman only needed to plant one seed to topple a rival, then swoop in afterward and claim the glory.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how this is relevant to me,¡± I said lowly, narrowing my eyes at Karsien¡¯s earlier implied threat. He said it as if it was nothing.


    ¡°It is, Toren, because you didn¡¯t just get a gift from Bloodstone Elixirs. You got a note.¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°And somehow this woman is going to manipulate me, too?¡± I said, realizing that I wasn¡¯t in immediate danger from the man. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like you¡¯re upset with how things turned out.¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t simply that I got what I want,¡± Karsien said. ¡°It is that she so smoothly achieved both of our desires. Do you understand the difficulty of that, Toren? It would have been far easier to simply raze the Joans to the ground with her own resources. But now my crew and I are in her debt, and if she asks something of me, I would not be able to refuse.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still at the whims of greater powers,¡± I said after a moment, understanding. ¡°Your situation hasn¡¯t changed at all, even if everybody else thinks it has. You¡¯re an unwitting pawn on a board, even if you didn¡¯t know it.¡±


    Karsien stared at me for a long, long time. I restrained the urge to break away, his scars searing themselves into my memory.


    ¡°He knows it makes people uncomfortable,¡± Lady Dawn said, her mind brushing against my own. ¡°It is why he wears a mask, but also why he has chosen to remove it now.¡±


    Karsien reached into the pocket of his jacket, retrieving a sealed letter. He stood up robotically, handing it to me. ¡°You have a cunning head on your shoulders, Toren. Don¡¯t let it dig into things it shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    I nodded in reply, looking at the writing on the front of the envelope.


    To Toren Daen, it read in swirling gold letters. The similarity to another letter I¡¯d received made it feel instantly ominous, like the contents would shatter my soul.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid the only reason I joined your crew was because I have a tendency to be impulsive,¡± I said, looking up from the paper.


    Karsien cracked a grin, this one a lot more familiar. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true. Your ¡®gift¡¯ was planted in your room, by the way. It seems Renea Shorn knows where you sleep.¡±


    ¡ª


    Renea Shorn did know where I slept. A relatively long box wrapped in deep red cloth awaited me, sitting comfortably on my bed. I approached it warily, wondering if I should be worried if it was a bomb.


    But first, I looked at the letter in my hands. The seal was a simple round-bottom beaker with little ornamentation. It hadn¡¯t been opened.


    I broke the seal, not knowing what to expect from the paper inside. A threat? An offer of some sort? Maybe blackmail regarding my secrets?


    My previous conversation with Karsien jumped into my mind again. What did this woman know about me? What did she think she knew?


    I slowly pulled the paper from the envelope, unsheathing it like a weapon. The paper was written in a similar handwriting as the cover, the swooping letters containing an elegance I had rarely seen in my previous life. The letters weren¡¯t golden, however, but regular black ink.


    Congratulations on completing your vengeance, Toren Daen. The Joans have long been a thorn in the side of Bloodstone Elixirs. Though it was not your intention, you have done our company a great favor with your actions. Thus, we send you this gift. Take it in the spirit it was given and use it well.


    Signed,


    Renea Shorn, Head of Bloodstone Elixirs


    Huh, I thought. That wasn¡¯t nearly as bad a letter as I expected. I turned my attention to the actual ¡®gift.¡¯


    The wrapping was quite ostentatious. It was simple cloth, but I immediately knew Naereni would salivate at the potential earnings she could make selling it off. My mana sense didn¡¯t pick anything especially extraordinary about the box, so I slowly lifted the top half.


    Inside, a set of beautiful sheathed weapons sat inlaid into the box. One was a single-edged saber with a long, slightly curved blade. The metal had a wavy pattern that looked similar to Damascus steel, but there were lines of dark red material snaking through the folds. Runes I didn¡¯t recognize were etched along the thicker part of the steel, giving it a sense of mystique.


    The point and edge were wicked sharp, and I felt my own eyes might bleed just from looking at the tip. The handle was wrapped in dark leather, while the swept-hilt guard shone silver. The sheathe had intricate, waving lines etched into the leather, and from the sheen of the material I knew it was brand new.


    The other weapon was a dagger, clearly of a set with the saber. It was a bit shorter than my previous weapon, and this one was slightly curved with a single edge. It had the same striations of red along the waving pattern in the steel with matching runes. The handguard was shorter than I was used to, but I looked at both weapons with a childlike sort of wonder.


    On the pommel of each weapon, the sigil of Named Blood Daen stared back.


    I reached my hands out to the weapons, grasping their hilts and holding them up. Each of them was extremely light, and I felt a sort of reverence for their craftsmanship. Who could give these as a gift?


    ¡°Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn said over my bond, breaking through my reverie. ¡°There is something wrong with these weapons. Something overlays them.¡±


    I frowned, then gingerly set them down. I couldn¡¯t sense anything, but I¡¯d learned to trust my bond on things like this. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I cannot tell just yet. Sit for a moment. Meditate, and I shall see.¡±


    With worry growing, I sat down cross-legged on my bed, closing my eyes and focusing inward as I did whenever I assimilated my Beast Will. I held the weapons in my lap, trying to direct my focus toward them.


    I felt Lady Dawn begin to concentrate with me, her own mind feathering across my senses.


    ¡°A spell is laid over these,¡± Lady Dawn said after a moment. ¡°I recognize this particular spell. A sympathetic link is formed between these objects and another, allowing them to be traced wherever they are.¡±


    I started, but wasn¡¯t really surprised, just disappointed. They were really nice weapons, and I¡¯d wanted to keep them. But if they allowed someone to track me, I¡¯d have to dispose of them somewhere or sell them for cash. I needed to watch out for Bloodstone Elixirs. Their intentions were predictably not as pure as their letter implied.


    ¡°That sucks,¡± I said, deflating. ¡°They had the stamp of Named Blood Daen and everything.¡±


    No, I was not sulking.


    ¡°All is not lost, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn chided, stern as if I was a child pouting about not getting dessert. ¡°You may yet sever this sympathetic link, disallowing these weapons from being traced.¡±


    I felt myself grin, my mood slowly reversing. ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡±

 Chapter 50: Checking Up

    Toren Daen


    All things considered, it was quite easy to snap the spell embedded in the weapons. With the guidance of an asura and severe focus, I could locate the effect of mana contained within the steel, then carefully sever and squash it with my own focused power.


    If I didn¡¯t have an asura slowly prodding at my mana control and funneling me toward what I wanted to discover, I doubted I would have found the spell any time soon. It was layered deep, and entrenched with obfuscation methods that boggled the mind. But once I did latch onto it, there was no contest removing it.


    It had to do with how willpower was leveraged over mana. I probably would not have been able to break the artificer¡¯s connection over a spell they were actively controlling so easily, but that was not the case here. The embedded spell was latent and passive, meant to send a signal out intermittently in small pulses that the other end could track.


    After fixing that problem, I insisted on looking at each of the Rat¡¯s gifts, using the excuse that I was interested in them as a cover for scanning them for similar spells. I avoided the skaunter, however. Though I outright told Karsien what I¡¯d found, I didn¡¯t want to spread a panic through the Rats unduly.


    It turned out my ¡®gift¡¯ was the only one with active spells imbued into the structure, which brought up more questions. Karsien was onto something when he implied I was under special attention from this Renea Shorn.


    But the real question was if there was anything I could do about it.


    I had my new weapons secured tightly on either side of my waist, their glimmering silver handles and dark leather grips a comforting place to rest my hand.


    I was standing on a rooftop just outside the Cistern¡¯s entrance, surveying all I could see. Snow was still on the ground, and a depressing number of people were shivering on the streets, covered in ratty blankets or simply turning blue.


    Part of me wanted to stop what I was doing, go down, and light fires for each of them. I had the power to do it, mana reacting to my will. I could make these people warm.


    But all the hours of the day weren¡¯t enough for me to reach each and every person here. There were thousands in the streets across the city. My mana core would dry out far before I helped everybody who needed me.


    I sighed as I dismissed those thoughts, turning west. I willed my mana shroud around me, the light white sheen of energy coating me like a barrier. Then, remembering how my emblem reacted to my natural barrier before, I tried to grab hold of myself with my telekinetic control.


    The spellform on my lower back grew warm, then I felt the rune activate. The white mana of my telekinesis meshed with my mana shroud, mixing and condensing in a strange new barrier.


    I raised my arm in front of my hand, inspecting the interplay of energy. My telekinesis rune operated on pure mana structured with gravity and sound attributes to create truly unique effects. But when it blended with my mana shroud, there was an unexpected synergy.


    It didn¡¯t look any different from my normal barrier, but I remembered the differences starkly from my fight against Lawrent and Dornar Joan. Raising a fist, I swung it at a nearby metal pole. When my knuckles impacted the steel, ripples of white crystalline lattices spread out from my fist at the epicenter over my shroud, before gradually fading away.


    I inspected the effects of my attack. The steel had been solidly dented with minimal force, something that wouldn¡¯t have been possible before. It seemed my telekinetic shroud layered extra strength over my blows, amplifying my attacks somehow.


    Suddenly remembering another effect of this shroud, I reached out with my emblem, pressing heavily against the ground. Instead of being lifted up slightly as I would¡¯ve expected from the pushback, the force broke against my telekinetic shroud, dispersing with a bit of crystal shine.


    I furrowed my brows. I¡¯d learned to use the pushback of my rune very effectively. It would be a shame if this new barrier negated that. Trying again with a push, I tried to convey that I wanted the force to travel through my shroud, and sure enough, I felt my center of mass shift as I pushed against the rooftop.


    I smirked slightly. That was cool. A final test, then.


    I drew my new dagger, the wavy red lines in its steel reflecting the low sun. It was deathly sharp, which I intended to test. I laid the single edge against my palm, pressing lightly. My telekinetic barrier flared, the white crystal lattice becoming more visible as the pressure increased. Eventually, the force of my pressure began to crack the barrier, but it was far and beyond stronger than my normal mana shroud.


    Satisfied with my little test, I sheathed the dagger, then focused mana into the telekinetic shroud, trying to mend the small cracks. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And then I found the downside. For those small cracks, it took nearly ten seconds for them to mend. And in a fast-paced battle, a single second could spell your death.


    It¡¯s incredibly tough, amplifies my strength, and can negate the pushback from my telekinesis. But to balance it out, it takes painfully long to repair, I thought. A mana barrier could be reformed in a split second if you were skilled.


    I sighed, giving East Fiachra one last look. It was too soon to see any real differences because of my actions, but I felt a painful desire to see that change. I wasn¡¯t a character of some narrative. My actions had consequences. I could change this place.


    ¡ª


    A few minutes later, I stood in front of an unfamiliar home in West Fiachra.


    I knocked on the door, feeling a bit foolish as I waited on the front steps. This was the address Wade had given me after a bit of prodding, and I hoped it was the right one.


    The door opened to reveal a familiar old man, his hair greying in patches. Aban blinked as he looked at me, recognition immediately on his face. Then he smiled slightly.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you well, Dusk,¡± he said, opening the door. ¡°Do you want to come in? I wasn¡¯t expecting guests, so you¡¯ll have to excuse the poor state of my home.¡±


    ¡°No worries,¡± I said, hesitantly accepting his invitation. ¡°I won¡¯t stay long. I wanted to drop by today to thank you.¡±


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    Aban led me toward a sitting room. I eased myself into a plush seat, Aban settling across from me. The room was well-worn, and I noticed an open book on the nearby table. It seemed I had interrupted Aban as he read.


    ¡°How are you doing?¡± I asked. ¡°Is your new job treating you well?¡±


    Aban raised a brow. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re out the Healer so quick, Dusk. I was wondering if you were going to fight again, considering what you did to your hands,¡± he said, looking pointedly at my arms. They were covered, as usual, and I was wearing fingerless gloves. If I looked close enough, I could see tiny lightning scars across my fingers, but they were practically invisible from a distance.


    ¡°I¡¯m difficult to kill,¡± I said, smirking at this inside joke of mine.


    ¡°But not invincible, clearly,¡± Aban countered, looking at me seriously. ¡°Though to answer your earlier question, Bloodstone Elixirs is treating me well. I¡¯ve been contracted similarly to how I was with the Joans, tasked with providing a helping hand in Clarwood Forest expeditions.¡± The older man regarded me strangely. ¡°Though I¡¯m surprised you learned that so fast.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°I heard that Bloodstone Elixirs is taking credit for the destruction of Blood Joan,¡± I said. ¡°In part by hiring all the mages who helped me escape.¡± I looked at the man seriously. The lines on his face seemed deep, accentuating his age and making him seem older than he really was. ¡°I¡¯ve got to ask: are you okay? Did they threaten you?¡±


    Aban regarded me for a second, then shook his head. ¡°No, they simply laid the facts out to me honestly. An unblooded mage attacking a noble family isn¡¯t something that can so easily be ignored. If I hadn¡¯t been hired on, I¡¯d have been hit from all sides by hostile families.¡±


    I frowned, feeling worried. ¡°That sounds an awful lot like extortion.¡±


    Aban sighed. ¡°Maybe it is. But they weren¡¯t wrong. Vaelum¡¯s got a good job as a guard for one of their Fiachran executives. It pays far more than his last contract, too. Unden is still with me, but the benefits far outweigh the downsides.¡±


    ¡°How are the rest of them doing, by the way?¡± I asked. ¡°Vaelum isn¡¯t still fighting off that poison, is he?¡±


    Aban chuckled. ¡°No, my godson is faring just fine. He is truly grateful for your help with that, by the way, as am I. Most would¡¯ve just left him to die.¡±


    I exhaled a bit of irritation at the fact that most people would leave a man to die like that. ¡°Tell him I¡¯m glad he¡¯s doing well. But that doesn¡¯t change this situation, where all of you are shoehorned under this company¡¯s power.¡±


    Aban shrugged, as if to say ¡®What can you do?¡¯ ¡°You might have changed things, Dusk, but some things never will. Bloodstone Elixirs aren¡¯t the only party taking advantage of the Joans¡¯ explosive fall. Half of their rivals are ripping apart their assets as they automatically default on their debts. Two days after their estate was burned to the ground, there was nothing left to their name. But you grow used to these kinds of things after a while.¡±


    He sounded cynical again. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think about this company,¡± I said, voicing my thoughts. ¡°They took all of you in, supposedly giving really good deals on employment. But they¡¯re also exploiting all we did.¡±


    ¡°Does it anger you that Bloodstone is taking the credit for the Joans¡¯ fall?¡± Aban queried, leaning forward a bit.


    I considered the question for a moment. ¡°Not really. As far as I can tell, the Rats¡¯ original goal was completed, and their message was sent loud and clear. And now, from what I¡¯ve heard, people think the Rats worked for Bloodstone, stifling any retaliation against the crew.¡± I thought about my battle with Kaelan Joan. The pure fury that thrummed through my veins, driving me on through strike after strike. ¡°And my vengeance was¡­ personal. I wasn¡¯t trying to make a statement, just settle a debt. I think I¡¯m more bothered by the power they have over all of you now.¡±


    The room was quiet for a minute as we settled into a comfortable silence. Eventually, though, I broke that reverie. ¡°I need to know, Aban. Why did you help me? You got lucky in avoiding the fallout with Bloodstone. But the consequences could¡¯ve been dire.¡±


    My question seemed to suck something from Aban¡¯s body. He deflated visibly, shrinking into his chair. ¡°Things have been bad for a long, long time, Dusk,¡± Aban replied in a murmur that made his voice scratchy. ¡°Because of people like the Joans, exploiting others and lording over everybody they can. When I was young, I wanted to change it. Make it better. But so many years went by without change, no matter what I did. But I was a coward, afraid to take a truly big step.¡°


    The old man leaned back in his seat, inspecting the ceiling. The house creaked slightly as it settled, made clearly audible by my enhanced hearing. ¡°And then you intervened to save that convoy. And at the end, you asked me what I knew. What I could provide. I thought, ¡®Why not?¡¯ The worst that happens is that you¡¯d die. Another corpse in the long line of bodies.¡±


    I remembered my first meeting with the mage as he slumped against a tree, both of us utterly exhausted. He seemed earnest, then, giving me the information I wanted. I had expected the need to threaten him more, to be honest.


    ¡°But when I went back to my employers, I saw things change. I watched the Joans slowly fall apart from both inside and out, seemingly all because of one man. It was a novel experience. Vindicating.¡± Aban began tapping his hand on the armrest. ¡°But then I heard Dornar was planning to blow you to kingdom come. And if he could, capture you alive. And I asked myself, ¡®Do you want to stay a coward?¡¯¡±


    The man looked me in the eyes, and I felt the weight of his decision. He didn¡¯t know if he would¡¯ve survived trying to save me. It was the principle of the action that drove him; a need to make a difference.


    ¡°I understand what you mean,¡± I said quietly, looking down at my clasped hands. ¡°I want to make a difference here.¡± In this world. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be more words on a gravestone.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to join Norgan. Not just yet.


    ¡°Nobody wants to be just another name,¡± Aban said. ¡°It¡¯s human nature. But I¡¯ve seen too many people take to kicking others to give themselves a semblance of power.¡±


    I peeked out a nearby window, noticing it was getting dark. I¡¯d have to leave soon. I thought of my plans for the immediate future: I would give myself a few weeks to grow used to my new emblem and work on a few saber styles with Lady Dawn before I went into the Relictombs. Then, most of my goals revolved around simply growing stronger, and preparing to face Nico.


    But not all of them. There would be a time after Nico.


    I stood up. ¡°It¡¯s getting dark out, so I¡¯ve gotta go, unfortunately.¡±


    Aban nodded reluctantly, standing up himself. ¡°I hope I can see you again, Dusk. You proved I was not a coward. That¡¯s something that I cannot repay.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°You proved that to yourself, Aban. I had nothing to do with it.¡±


    It was true. I hadn¡¯t convinced the man to save me; he¡¯d done it himself. And from what I¡¯d heard, he¡¯d recruited the rest of the mages I¡¯d saved in the Clarwood Forest himself. The man showed tremendous courage.


    Aban held a hand up haltingly as I turned, stopping me in his tracks. There was a strange expression on his face, a twist to his brows, and a turn of his lips that gave me pause.


    ¡°Dusk, I saw your rune when you fell,¡± he said quietly. ¡°And I saw all the abilities you displayed. I did my best to hide your spine from everybody else.¡±


    I turned to him slowly. Aban wasn¡¯t threatening me, I knew. Our conversation a minute before had been too earnest; too close. But my attention sharpened to the man in front of me. He looked smaller as he tried to make himself speak.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors about the war, about how the other continent uses mana,¡± he said, whispering even though we were alone in his house. ¡°Watch yourself out there, please. Our continent is cruel.¡±


    My brain stuttered to a halt at the question, trying to figure out where it came from. He assumed I was somehow connected to the other continent, which wasn¡¯t far off. But how did I reply?


    I nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. Even though the man was wrong about my connections, the fact that he was giving me advice cemented my opinion of him further.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to consider you a friend, Aban,¡± I said. ¡°If you are in any trouble, I¡¯ll do my best to help. If Bloodstone or anybody else tries to threaten you, I¡¯ll have your back.¡±

 Chapter 51: Tales and Tails

    Toren Daen


    I mentally turned the page of my book, nearing the end. It hung in the air in front of me, a white outline holding it aloft. Nearby, another book floated in front of an invisible reader, drawing an odd stare from the random people who walked by.


    I was in the West Fiachra Library, reading up everything I could find on the Relictombs. I¡¯d discovered a lot of useful information over the past few weeks: the average placement of exit portals and convergence zones, signs a zone might contain a relic, and protocol for certain scenarios.


    This last book, however, had been filled with nothing but conjecture. Maybe the Relictombs could create relics on the fly. Maybe the zones used to house intelligent life. Maybe the ancient mages were still operating the Relictombs from the shadows.


    Granted, it was a book on theory, not proven fact. I was running out of resources here.


    Nearby, Lady Dawn¡¯s shade read through another text about the cosmos. She didn¡¯t seek out many different tomes as I browsed the library, even though she was spoiled for choice.


    I turned a page of her book with my telekinetic rune, having long ago gotten an intrinsic sense for when it was needed.


    I sighed, floating my book down to the table in front of me. The hardwood was covered in pages of scrawled notes, a litany of information I thought important to write down. This was what I did most of the morning each day. In the afternoons and evenings, I ventured into the Clarwood Forest to adapt to my new abilities and weapons.


    And it was almost time to actually apply for an ascender¡¯s badge. As I¡¯d read in my books, the test I would take would differ depending on whether I registered as a caster or striker.


    That was something I was still debating. My spellform was that of a caster, but my abilities revolved around fighting in the close and medium range. I could be either-or, but I was leaning toward striker.


    ¡°What makes you so intent on these Relictombs?¡± Lady Dawn asked from over her book, meeting my eyes. She remained quiet most of the time, but I guessed my single-track focus of the past few weeks was bound to raise curiosity in even the most patient of asura.


    I need power if I am to fight the Anchor, I replied over our link, organizing my notes with the assistance of my telekinesis emblem. I¡¯d gotten far better telepathic communication; masking my emotions and conveying exactly what I wanted. And even if I wasn¡¯t aiming to fight such a powerful foe, I need a safer place to practice my abilities. The Relictombs provides the best place for that.


    Lady Dawn tilted her head. ¡°I fail to see how this warrants such intense research,¡± the phoenix replied, her eyes roving over the papers I was trying and failing to make into a manageable stack.


    I paused, wondering how I could best explain. I¡¯d given her a basic rundown: the Tombs were a multitude of interlinked pocket dimensions that were designed to test prospective mages.


    They react differently to some individuals, I answered internally, finally managing to pull together all my notes. I shouldn¡¯t expect them to treat me any differently than your random Alacryan, but I don¡¯t know. I know they can detect those of djinni descent, so I should be safe. I ran a hand through my hair, which was starting to get a bit long. This is just really stressful, so I¡¯ve been overpreparing.


    The phoenix stilled, her eyes narrowing. ¡°These tombs react to those with the blood of the djinn?¡± she asked, a strange note to her voice.


    I looked up. Yeah. They¡¯re semi-conscious. Or something close to that. It¡¯s not really clear. But they¡¯re searching for a descendant to pass down their knowledge to. I stored the papers in my dimension ring, scanning over the table to make sure I hadn¡¯t missed anything. So it really should ignore me, but I¡¯m a bit paranoid.


    The Relictombs were weird. The Beginning After the End didn¡¯t do their quirks justice.


    Lady Dawn slowly stood from her chair. To me, the movement looked like a bent bar of metal slowly returning to its normal shape. She didn¡¯t push off the chair, just unnaturally unfolded. Her body phased through the book that hovered in front of her, the bound tome ignoring her ethereal form as if it were a mirage.


    ¡°You were wise to research,¡± the phoenix said, looking past me. I felt a hint of hesitance over our bond, making me feel confused. Did she want me to know she felt this emotion, or did it genuinely leak through? ¡°These tombs may indeed react to your presence.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. I thought you said I didn¡¯t have any djinni ancestry. My healing factor is from very, very diluted Vritra heritage.


    ¡°You do not have the blood of the djinn,¡± the asura said, lifting her hands to me. She indicated her arms. I followed the movement, trying to understand her implications. I stared for an uncomfortably long time.


    I don¡¯t see how your arms connect to this, I said questioningly, looking back to the asura. She seemed unamused.


    ¡°Not my arms, Contractor,¡± she replied in a suffering tone. ¡°How do they appear to you? What is¡­ unnatural about them?¡±


    Oh, I realized, my frown deepening. She wasn¡¯t referencing her arms. It was her skin.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s skin was a deep, dusky purple, something that was unnatural and ephemeral on her body. The color seemed to drink in the light, only making her flaming hair glow in contrast. But what did that mean? What was she implying?


    ¡°You¡¯re part djinn,¡± I said, my jaw dropping in astonishment. ¡°But I thought you were a full-blooded phoenix!¡± I only realized a second later that I had actually said that out loud. I hastily shut my mouth.


    ¡°I am a true-blood phoenix of the Asclepius Clan,¡± Lady Dawn countered, slowly lowering her arm. Her burning eyes lingered on her pristine skin. ¡°But we phoenixes¡­ our vessels are not so linear and static as those of other asuras. As our Flame flickers out, we rebuild our bodies, taking elements gifted to us and molding our new forms like clay in an artist¡¯s waiting hands. We create a masterpiece better than the last.¡± The phoenix was quiet for a long, long time. ¡°These aspects of my body were given as a gift.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling as Lady Dawn¡¯s emotions retreated with each word. Speaking about this was like a sharp sting to her, each syllable a forced admission that resonated with carefully concealed pain.


    She didn¡¯t feel like what she had was a gift. Somehow, it was a loss.


    I opened my mouth, trying to think of words of comfort, to do something to assuage her pent-up emotion, but Lady Dawn cut me off by continuing her speech. ¡°And so, any preparation you may make will need to compensate for the eventuality that you are tested in my place.¡±


    I closed my mouth, looking into Lady Dawn¡¯s burning eyes. I saw it there, with that strange ability of mine to read her nonexistent cues. Oftentimes I asked myself how I could understand those pits of fire. Was I comprehending the flow of turbulent plasma, somehow? Did each pulse and lick of flame inside correlate to a feeling I somehow deciphered?


    They looked old.


    She didn¡¯t want to talk about her strange past, and I couldn¡¯t force her.


    Well, that cements my preparations, at least, I thought. I put the book I was reading back onto its shelf, then began walking toward a set of stairs toward the lower level of the library. I passed a few students huddled around tables, getting some lingering stares. Most weren¡¯t hostile, just curious.


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    That was something I¡¯d had to get used to over the past few weeks. As the effects of the Joans¡¯ collapse spread out like a shockwave, my identity had become an open secret among noble circles. Blood Daen had taken its revenge against their enemies, fulfilling a Blood debt. Considering the Joans were almost universally despised in Fiachra, I was lucky to avoid vengeful allies trying to take a bite out of my hide.


    Instead, I was granted a strange sort of respect because of my revenge. More than a few people had tried to approach me, asking thinly veiled questions about my future plans and what I hoped to do next. And maybe I could work for them? After all, they had amazing resources to provide.


    I had been honest. I was going to be an ascender, gaining accolades and prestige for my Blood in the old way. Blood Daen would return to its roots. No, I wasn¡¯t looking for work. No, I wasn¡¯t going to help your enemies. No, you don¡¯t need to worry about me trying to attack anybody else.


    Part of me wondered how the Bloods of Fiachra would try and weave me into their plots. The other part desperately ignored them.


    I passed by the reception desk, nodding briefly to Wade. His skaunter, Apple, lounged by his chair. A few academy girls were cooing and petting the little mana beast, ruffling its fur with choruses of ¡®Awww, aren¡¯t you adorable!¡¯ I wasn¡¯t fooled by the little beast¡¯s cute act.


    I squinted at the mana beast. It burrowed deeper into the girls¡¯ hands as it shriveled under my glare, seeking faux comfort from the naive trainees. The girls turned hostile eyes on me as I stared at the mana beast.


    I huffed, walking out of the library. That little skaunter knew I was on to it. Why else would it try and get pity from those girls?


    ¡°I do not see why you hold such ire toward the mana beast,¡± Lady Dawn commented in my head. ¡°It is an ineffective weapon, barely a threat to any it nears. It seems to be a simple pet.¡±


    I walked the straight and narrow streets of West Fiachra, vaguely heading east. It¡¯s wild, you¡¯ll see, I murmured over our bond. One day, it¡¯s going to chew somebody¡¯s arm off, and then I¡¯ll be proven right.


    I felt a feathering of amusement over our bond as Lady Dawn let the topic drop.


    West Fiachra was crowded in the morning. Vendors and merchants peddled their wares in this area, trying to attract passersby. I noted a few men wearing robes exposing their spines. I could feel the push and pull of mana all around me this close to mages, their presence having an effect on the ambient mana.


    And true to form, I felt something¨Csomeone¨Cwatching me as I left the library. I slowed my pace, meandering toward some merchant¡¯s stalls, pretending to look over their wares. A big, burly man explained to me the benefits of using his snake oil medicine. I listened half-heartedly, feigning interest and asking questions about its use in various medical emergencies. The man smiled, nodded along, and lied to my face as he explained the fake benefits it could offer.


    Do you see the person following us? I asked Lady Dawn using our bond. It seems to be a block or so back. It''s a very subtle presence; far better than most who have trailed me before. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lady Dawn couldn¡¯t go far from my body, but I didn¡¯t need her to travel too far. My bond was invisible to mortal eyes and incorporeal, giving her a superb advantage in surveillance. She gave me a hint of mental affirmation before leaving through the crowded streets. I could almost imagine her vaguely condescending stare as she did as I requested. An asura wasn¡¯t a spy, after all.


    A few seconds later, Lady Dawn¡¯s voice brushed against my mind. ¡°Several mages watch from different stalls,¡± she said. ¡°All appear to be sentries, except for one. They are not wearing anything that could identify their allegiance.¡±


    I respectfully declined to buy the merchant¡¯s faux drug, moving back to the winding streets. I made sure to make my movements unhurried and calm. I had only sensed one of the mages. Thanks for spotting them, I affirmed my bond. Are they following me now?


    Silence for a moment. ¡°They trail through the crowd from afar. They don¡¯t have a direct line of sight.¡±


    They¡¯re good, I thought with trepidation. So they weren¡¯t tracking me by sight. Mana signature, then? I wondered to myself. Considering some of them might be sentries, the possibilities were basically infinite. Damn.


    I tried to take several turns as I wandered over the canals of West Fiachra, changing my course north. There were more mages as you moved northward, as that was where the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association was located. Hopefully, the effect on the ambient mana would help confuse whatever tracking method these mages were using.


    That had worked before for a few of the tracking teams I¡¯d had to shake in the past. These men, however, were competent. No matter which direction I chose, they seemed to follow me from a far distance.


    It wasn¡¯t just respect that I¡¯d earned destroying Blood Joan. I¡¯d earned interest, and I was quickly becoming sick of it.


    What are they trying to do? I thought, grinding my teeth as I crossed a bridge over a canal. They aren¡¯t getting any closer, just keeping a ways away. Are they trying to track me back to the Rats¡¯ base in the Cistern?


    Shaking those thoughts off, I finally made a decision. I cut off toward one of the canal tunnels that dug through a hill nearby. As I entered the path, the sunlight was replaced by dim lighting artifacts, casting everything in low shadow.


    I bent my knees, enveloping myself in my telekinetic shroud. Then I jumped straight up, twisting midair. As I soared, I flared my mana toward my emblem.


    My feet impacted the roof of the tunnel, twenty feet above. But I didn¡¯t fall. My boots stayed latched to the ceiling, two small pulling forces emanating from my soles and keeping me anchored to the arched tunnel bricks.


    I walked along the ceiling, suppressing my mana signature to the best of my ability. Before I got my emblem, doing this wall-walking would have quickly drained my mana reserves and mental strength. But now I could latch onto walls with my telekinesis like a magical Spiderman.


    Four mages entered the tunnels several minutes later. They were unhurried, their steps confident. I spied them from above, staying lashed onto the bricks as I hung upside down.


    My enhanced eyes allowed me to make out their features. They weren¡¯t wearing the traditional mage¡¯s clothing that exposed their runes, but now that they were close I could get a better sense of their cores. They were certainly following me.


    Their steps slowed as they noticed I wasn¡¯t in the tunnel. Inquisitive eyes were turned to one of the sentries, who began to work their spellform.


    Nope, I thought, letting out a pulse of mana. You¡¯re not taking my element of surprise. All heads turned to me with speed, doing a one-eighty to look up at the ceiling behind them. There wasn¡¯t fear in their postures, only a wary caution.


    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate being followed,¡± I said from my perch on the ceiling. ¡°But as skilled as all of you are, you should know entering a tunnel after your target is always a sign of a trap.¡±


    The mages shuffled as I called them out. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, my lord,¡± one said, taking a step forward. His eyes were resolute and unconcerned. ¡°My friends and I were hoping to catch one of Fiachra¡¯s famous riverboats for a tour. We heard that they could be hailed from these tunnels. If we gave any offense, I apologize.¡±


    Part of that statement was true. The exits of the tunnels were often used as a pickup spot for transport for people wanting to ride the boats along the canal.


    I pushed out with my killing intent, altering my voice slightly with sound magic. ¡°You have given offense,¡± I said, narrowing my attention on them as I hung like a bat. ¡°You¡¯ve been following me since the library.¡±


    The pressure made a few of them shudder, the lighting artifacts around me flickering as I pressed with force.


    The lead mage''s hand was lingering near his waist. Reaching for a weapon that was usually there, maybe? ¡°We don¡¯t want any trouble, lord mage,¡± he said, his eyes darting toward the lighting artifacts. It seemed that had unnerved him slightly. ¡°If there is any way¨C¡±


    Another one of the mages let out a shuddering breath. ¡°We were sent to protect you,¡± they interrupted, causing the other eyes to flicker to him. He gulped from my full focus. ¡°You drew some attention, Toren Daen. Bad attention.¡±


    It seemed they weren¡¯t keeping up the facade as before. The lead mage¨Ca man with deep, seaweed green hair¨Cgrunted in irritation, glaring at the sentry who¡¯d spoken, but he didn¡¯t try and deny his words.


    I narrowed my eyes, running through what they¡¯d just said. Protect me from what? And why?


    ¡°I can handle myself,¡± I decided to say. ¡°I have a lot of eyes on me. Why don¡¯t you tell me why you think I need your protection?¡±


    I was taking their words with a pinch of salt, but it was always worth it to hear out the opposition. Besides, when I usually caught the people tailing me, they fled after the first confrontation. That these men tried to stand their ground was novel.


    The sentry¡¯s face went carefully blank. ¡°We can¡¯t tell you,¡± he said. ¡°But Blood Joan had powerful backers. You are not as safe as you believe.¡±


    ¡°And who wants me to be safe?¡± I asked, a bit of a sneer in my voice. ¡°Excuse me if I don¡¯t believe the words of my tails.¡±


    The lead mage, who I recognized was a striker from the flare of his mana around his body, grit his teeth. ¡°Our employer is intent on keeping you safe, Toren Daen, but threats will not be taken lightly.¡±


    I briefly considered my options. I could fight these men. Considering what I felt from the striker, I could probably defeat them without casualties, too. But I¡¯d been tracked so often these past few weeks that if I tried to apprehend every man who tailed me, I¡¯d have a list of captives as long as I was tall.


    Ultimately, it wasn¡¯t worth pushing.


    I let my telekinesis fade, dropping to the floor below without a sound. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill any of you,¡± I said with finality. ¡°I don¡¯t care what your employer thinks of threats. Keep following me and I¡¯ll leave your bodies to float down the canals.¡±


    I pierced their leader with a stare, making sure my intent was loud and clear. Then I swept out of the alleyway, leaving the mages to awkwardly stand beside the water.

 Chapter 52: Auld Acquaintance

    Toren Daen


    I sipped my stew gratefully, savoring the warmth as it went down my throat. It was the familiar hearty recipe Greahd always made, the meat and veggies slowly filling me up.


    I watched the festivities from a small distance away, noting the change in everyone present. Greahd had recently started up her small gatherings for the community again. A large bonfire roared near the canal, spreading heat to all who needed it. Snow coated the ground all over East Fiachra, but in this little section, there was none to be found.


    It had been a month since the collapse of the Joans. The people here didn¡¯t magically get better now that the supply of blithe was removed, but I thought I could see an unusual cheer in the eyes of the people as they conversed and celebrated.


    It would¡¯ve been around Christmastime in my previous world. A time for companionship, family, and brotherhood. Alacrya didn¡¯t have Christmas, but they did have a New Year''s Festival.


    A man bumped past me as he meandered toward the fire, turning to me with surprise.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I said, waving. I¡¯d been slowly getting lost in my own thoughts, not looking where I was going.


    The man, who had lost all of his hair and was wearing a ragged brown coat, blanched when he saw my face. He tucked his head, muttering apologies as he scrambled off.


    I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I meandered back to a thick log and sat down with a heavy thump. Whenever somebody spotted me, their eyes sparked with hesitation, and in the worst cases, fear. It was obvious in how they quickly averted their gaze, seeming to find the packed dirt increasingly interesting.


    It reminded me of the last time I¡¯d participated in this gathering. I had nearly been killed by a lucky knife, and then I¡¯d threatened a man in front of the entire crowd. To these unadorned men and women, mages were synonymous with power. They didn¡¯t understand me, so they feared me.


    It made my heart clench whenever I saw them shuffle away from me, my mind drifting to the dancing joy I had experienced when I joined them in their festivities. Around me, people found solace in each other. I was alone.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking glum,¡± a voice said from behind me. ¡°I think you could use some company.¡±


    I turned to look at Hofal, knowing I couldn¡¯t suppress the expression on my face. He sat down next to me slowly, complaining slightly about his back.


    The shield¡¯s sideburns were beginning to grow out slightly, and a bit of a beard formed around his chin. His thinning hair, however, wasn¡¯t cooperating with that. It stubbornly refused to grow.


    We sat in silence for a moment as I stewed in a helpful dose of self-pity. Greahd was serving bowls of stew nearby, and she was pointedly keeping me at arm¡¯s length. I didn¡¯t know how to treat her now after my success with the Joans.


    ¡°You know, you could try and talk with them,¡± Hofal offered, pulling out his pipe. ¡°I heard what happened here last time from Naereni. You handled yourself well, all things considered.¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t seem to think I handled anything well,¡± I said a bit bitterly, gesturing to the collage of people milling about. A young boy almost tripped as he ran after another, kicking up dirt onto the legs of an older woman. She didn¡¯t even seem to notice. ¡°Considering every time I approach, it¡¯s all ¡®Lord Mage this,¡¯ and ¡®Lord Mage that.¡¯¡±


    Hofal took a puff of his tobacco. ¡°They¡¯re unadorned, Toren. Their entire lives, they¡¯ve been told the reason they are condemned to this slum is because the Vritra spurned them. That they are here because they are not blessed by magic.¡± The older man frowned contemplatively, his eyebrows scrunching together in the way only possible when in deep thought. ¡°You confuse them. And considering their only interactions with mages have been when the nobles peddled drugs to their loved ones, they expect the worst of you.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak. I don¡¯t view them as lesser than I do simply because I wield magic. ¡°But they¡¯re not any different than you or I,¡± I said a bit stubbornly. ¡°Maybe I can throw things with my mind, but my mind isn¡¯t any different from theirs.¡±


    ¡°These people don¡¯t know that,¡± Hofal said patiently. ¡°They¡¯re used to having everything taken from them. Chances are you¡¯re here to take from them, too. And they have so little left to give.¡±


    I spotted the young boy who I¡¯d saved from the blithe addict a month or so ago. He was missing his pinky and ring fingers on his right hand from frostbite, according to Naereni. The boy spotted me and gave me a gap-toothed smile, waving excitedly.


    I smiled back, waving lightly before he was hauled off by his friends.


    The children don¡¯t fear me like the adults do, I saw.


    I realized the problem, then. It wasn¡¯t just that all of these people¡¯s experiences hardened them against mages. I was operating under a fundamentally different mindset than most of Alacrya, where might made right. In a way, my thoughts were like those of these children, where curiosity often won out over caution and common sense.


    ¡°It will just take time, I suppose,¡± I said with a hint of resignation.


    A man nearby retched into the canal, heaving his stomach out. I turned concerned eyes to his form, his mottled greenish-yellow patches of skin marking him as a blithe addict in withdrawal. He couldn¡¯t keep down the stew for long.


    ¡°It will get worse before it gets better,¡± Hofal said, following my gaze. ¡°But the worst of the effects have passed now. Greahd wouldn¡¯t have been able to host this if things hadn¡¯t started to turn for the better.¡±


    That pulled my mood back a bit. ¡°Thanks, Hofal,¡± I said, looking at the stars in the sky. I could pinpoint a few constellations now, courtesy of peeping on Lady Dawn¡¯s reading. There was the Basilisk¡¯s Tail. Beneath it was the Struggling Ascender, struggling endlessly to grasp the Tail. To the right, a nimbus of glimmering suns lightyears away made the Lightning Spell.


    I wondered what their names were on Dicathen. How much did these cultures diverge?


    ¡°You¡¯re going to need to be in your right mind tomorrow,¡± the old shield said, patting me on the shoulder. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to let you stay down.¡±


    I smiled slightly. Hofal was a retired ascender himself, giving him the right to sponsor me for the ascender¡¯s assessment. Tomorrow, I¡¯d be venturing with him to the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association to finally progress. After my prelim, I¡¯d return to Fiachra for the Bestowment Ceremony, which happened every new year. This year would be my last chance to get another rune before my adolescence barred me from legally getting another.


    Greahd finished handing out stew for a short moment, shifting the duty to a younger girl. The mousy-haired woman slowly hobbled over to me, looking at me with conflicted eyes. I felt my shoulders tense, remembering my last conversation with Trelza.


    ¡°Hello, Toren,¡± she said quietly, looking down at me as I sat on the log.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I said awkwardly. Here was another person I had broken a promise to.


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    She watched me for a moment, before taking several steps forward. I tensed for what was to come. Maybe a slap. Maybe a pointed finger in my face, admonishing me for my recklessness.


    I was entirely taken aback when she wrapped me in an embrace, holding my head to her chest. A shudder went through me at the contact, the unexpected action causing my thoughts to stutter. I felt like I had been pierced deeper than any blade.


    When was the last time I had been held?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t see it,¡± Greahd said as my breathing picked up. ¡°Trelza told me what you said to him about the forest. And about your plans for it. I shouldn¡¯t have let you leave that day. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    My breath caught as I hesitantly returned the hug. I wanted to say it didn¡¯t matter, that I was past it. I had friends, a purpose, and a plan.


    But that would be a lie. Toren had never felt so alone that day in the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. He needed somebody to hold him; to let him know that the world was not yet over. He had lost his sole rock in a world of crashing waves. And instead of an understanding shoulder to lean on, Trelza presented him with the letter. He treated Toren as he did his patients, not like the apprentice he had trained for years.


    And so Toren took the only action he felt he could.


    That capability for despair was still there in me somewhere, buried deep within. It wasn¡¯t something that just went away. I felt my eyes burn with warm tears, but I closed my eyes, pushing them away.


    I didn¡¯t want to feel sad anymore. I couldn¡¯t afford to. This world would face a proxy war between deities soon. What use was weeping about it?


    I am not alone anymore, I thought, remembering Lady Dawn¡¯s words in the Vritra Doctrination¡¯s temple. I am not alone.


    Maybe I would believe it one day, too.


    Slowly, I released my grip on the mousy older woman. She looked down at my face, the lines of her brow seeming to deepen in the low light. ¡°If you ever feel that way again, please¡­ Please tell me. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t there for you.¡±


    I forced a watery smile. ¡±Things are changing, Greahd. I¡¯ve got a purpose now. You don¡¯t need to worry.¡±


    The woman searched for something in my eyes before she shuffled away. She was so kind; going out of her way to create this avenue for community in a place that had given up hope. Part of me wondered how such a good woman could be in such a broken place.


    ¡°It is my job to worry,¡± the older woman countered, a slight upturn to the edges of her lips. ¡°Your life is precious, Toren. Norgan would want you to live.¡±


    I knew her words were true. My reassurances hadn¡¯t seemed to have worked, the woman nervously grasping for a way to lift my spirits.


    ¡°He would,¡± I replied, thinking of the grave in East Fiachra. His body wouldn¡¯t have been buried if we were in any other Dominion. Sehz-Clar alone practiced burial for those who died in battle. The only alternatives were cremation and leaving the corpse where it passed.


    Is that what would have happened to my body? I absently wondered, gazing into the distance. It would¡¯ve simply been eaten by mana beasts. And the other Dominions would find that an honorable end, rather than have a grave marker to grieve at.


    ¡°I know something that might cheer you up,¡± the woman said, moving away for a moment. I waited curiously until the receptionist came back a minute later with a familiar case.


    Her lute.


    I looked at it, remembering the last time the woman had offered me her lute to play. Greahd offered me the instrument as a mother might proffer her child to be held by another.


    ¡°No,¡± I heard myself say distantly. Greahd looked a bit startled, pulling the instrument back slowly. Hofal turned confused eyes to me. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stood up, reaching into my dimension ring with my mana. My pristine metal case appeared in my waiting hands, shimmering against the stars. Greahd let me walk past her as I approached the fire, where people were laughing and dancing to a tune I couldn¡¯t recognize. Despite their tattered clothing and dirty faces, their smiles seemed to reflect the nonexistent sun.


    As I approached, however, the chatter and merriment began to simmer away. The men parted as I drew close, my metal case heavy in my hands. Women clutched their children close, shifting closer to their husbands. All eyes turned to fear and distrust, some shuffling to leave. The only sound became the crackling of the tall flame.


    I turned as I reached the tall fire, the heat kissing my back with a tender touch. I set my case down on the ground, unlatching it slowly. When it opened, my violin was revealed to the air.


    I picked it up, the textured clarwood settling neatly at my collar. I let my chin stay free, turning to look at the gathered people. Many averted their gaze or peered at the nearby streets, but they didn¡¯t want to risk running from me openly.


    I let the last bit of my doubt flow through me. What if I failed this? What if they rejected me, or ran in fear? I didn¡¯t know how I would take such a rejection. But the strings of my instrument glistened in the firelight, my bow steady on the aether beast thread. For all my fears, I knew my abilities better.


    I set the bow against the violin, savoring the contact. Slowly, I began to play. Soothing music flowed with the crackle of the firelight.


    It was a familiar song. Anybody from Earth who heard it would know the melody, but here, it was novel. The notes flowed with practiced efficiency, echoing out into the stillness.


    I closed my eyes, feeling the music. The slow rhythm contained all I felt at the moment, and I absently felt my mana respond. I opened my mouth, singing lowly to the watching stars.


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And never brought to mind?


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And days of auld lang syne?


    I felt my emotions flow as the rhythm took me in its current. It was slow and warm and gentle. It didn¡¯t care if I was from another world. The music simply was, following my direction and pulling me where it desired all at once. The music knew my desire to be understood. It sympathized in its unique language of sound.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    My emotions pressed into the air, my intent morphing on the chill winter breeze. As I yearned to show my true self to the world, my mana flared in tandem.


    We have traveled ¡®round the slopes,


    And picked the daisies fine.


    We¡¯ve wandered many weary foot,


    Since days of auld lang syne.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    My playing slowed as I opened my eyes and the stanza of the song finished. The fire crackled behind me reassuringly, outlining me in its warmth. When I peered at the crowd now, their eyes didn¡¯t shy away. They met mine with unfettered wonder, their curiosity warring with their fear. I had done something with my music and magic just now that I didn¡¯t understand; that I didn¡¯t have time to contemplate.


    The ambient mana had thrummed with intention, vibrating like the strings of my violin. For the briefest of moments, there had been no separation between mind and mana.


    I couldn¡¯t let this moment escape. It was a fleeting breath of understanding between me and these people. I knew their thoughts and fears, deep as the ocean. And they knew mine.


    I laid my bow on the strings once more, drawing it across in measured notes.


    And when I sang again, another voice joined the chorus. Greahd, I recognized through the haze of music. Hofal joined in next, his scratchy voice terribly off-key. But they started a wave as the mood grew infectious.


    I locked eyes with the mother of the boy I had saved as she sang hoarsely, her vocal cords stripped from a lifetime of pain. But to me, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard. More and more joined in slowly, calls for auld acquaintance rising into the night sky.


    I spoke with a language universal across every world: music.

 Chapter 53: Fiachran Ascenders Association

    Toren Daen


    The Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association was almost overwhelming. It towered over the nearby buildings, casting them in its vast shadow. Motifs of basilisks coiled around supporting columns, judging any would-be ascenders who walked the single paved path to the building.


    On the side, a slim canal wove through the structure, allowing a steady flow of goods and people. Basilisk statues watched from here like gargoyles, too, keeping a watchful eye on their domain.


    Hofal walked down the path lined with statues of mages without a hint of hesitation. I hurried to catch up, trying not to look like a wogart with how much I stared.


    I was dressed in my best clothes. I wore a bright waistcoat with light embroidery over a plain white button-up shirt with loose, breathable sleeves. I wore my fingerless leather gloves, covering my red chain tattoo. Dark trousers and tall boots adorned my lower half, while a solid buckled belt held my saber and dagger.


    I¡¯d taken to calling my saber ¡®Oath¡¯ and the dagger ¡®Promise.¡¯ They were fitting names for weapons as refined as the deserved titles.


    I fell in lockstep with Hofal as he went through the gates. The sound inside hit me like a wave, but I¡¯d been expecting it. The ceiling was tall, with a dozen platforms for tempus warps and portals around the main hall.


    As Hofal and I walked further on, I appreciated the various services this single place offered. It was like the Walmart of Ascensions: everything you needed, from training services to blacksmiths to healing rooms, could be found here.


    Hofal led me to the area for ascender candidates, which was notably filled with people. I stood nearby as Hofal quickly signed me up for a striker¡¯s practical skill assessment.


    The receptionist¡¯s eyes lingered on my signet ring when I handed her my metal identification card. I¡¯d gotten that in the interim of training for this assessment. It displayed my name, birthdate, and miscellaneous information such as my home city. Stamped next to my name was the sigil of Named Blood Daen as well.


    Once I was signed up, I moved toward the waiting area, receiving a few stares from the waiting candidates. They visibly sized me up, some of the boys tipping their chins up as they met my stare.


    I raised a brow at one, wondering what he thought he was doing. Eventually, he began to flush, his posturing breaking under my visible skepticism. With a roll of my eyes, I sat down in a nearby seat. Hofal gingerly let himself into the chair next to me.


    The posturing they do is absurd, I thought to myself. It feels pointless.


    Granted, I was a twenty-something man in a seventeen-year-old¡¯s body. That young academy graduate sneering down on me looked too much like a high schooler trying to seem bigger than he really was.


    ¡°It is the way of this continent,¡±  Lady Dawn supplied. ¡°They prance and puff out their chests like roosters, desiring their High Sovereign¡¯s praise above all.¡±


    I don¡¯t think using a bird analogy works when you say it, I thought to Lady Dawn absently. Considering you technically are one.


    ¡°It is foolish to call the phoenix race birds,¡± Lady Dawn almost squawked, sounding notably indignant. ¡°It is birds that wish to mimic us, in the same way the basilisks attempt with their paltry wings.¡±


    Fair enough, I replied. Though the resemblance is uncanny¡­


    I teased, earning a huff of irritation from the bird in my head.


    I was drawn out of my internal thoughts as I noticed a trio of mages walking with upturned noses and blank expressions on their faces. I might have called their expressions regal, except they fell closer to disdain. They all wore long, flowing robes of black with red lining, clearly uniformed. Thich chains were around their necks, a stylized black horn pendant sitting prominently on their chests.


    Vicars of the Vritra Doctrination, I knew. They were the priests who preached the basilisk¡¯s doctrine of might and strength. Arthur was lucky to avoid these lunatics because he quickly became involved with noble circles. The vicars worked among the common person, acting as both walking spouts of propaganda and agents who reported to the High Vicar.


    If the Scythes kept the nobility in line, then the Vicars watched the peasants.


    One of them turned his head slightly, his attention narrowing quickly to my little spot in the waiting area. His eyes held utter disregard for me, which wasn¡¯t surprising. Many of these pseudo-priests were the self-righteous sort, and just from eye contact, I knew I didn¡¯t want anything to do with him.


    When his eyes slid to Hofal, however, they hardened into something malicious. Feeling a nervous premonition, I patted my retired ascender friend on the shoulder.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I whispered. ¡°We¡¯ve got some vicars coming our way,¡± I said hurriedly as they began to stride toward us in what seemed like choreographed unison.


    Hofal¡¯s eyes took on a pained look as he stood, waiting for the vicars to approach. The mages around us stopped trying to posture and instead seemed to find their own conversations extremely interesting. Nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of the Doctrination.


    The lead vicar stopped in front of Hofal, looking him up and down with a sneer. ¡°It seems you still haven¡¯t found your place amidst the gravestones, Hofal the Unblooded.¡± His voice was grating, making me feel dirty as it entered my ears. The blatant hostility still took me aback. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Zeneth,¡± Hofal said stiffly. ¡°Your robes are as clean as ever,¡± he said, clenching his fists behind his back to hide them. ¡°You¡¯ve cleaned up after your dirty work well.¡±


    Zeneth¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Do you insult your betters, unblooded? We do not grovel in the dirt as those we teach. Our clothes should bear no stain to signify the purity of our purpose.¡± He licked his lips. ¡°And yet your clothes are dusty and worn. What does this say about your own will?¡±


    ¡°I have worked for what I own and have, Zeneth, unlike your brotherhood,¡± Hofal said through clenched teeth. It occurred to me that I had never seen the man angry before this.


    ¡°Brotherhood?¡± Zeneth said, testing the word on his tongue. ¡°We are the arms of the Sovereigns themselves. You still reject the Truth?¡±


    Hofal looked past the vicar, keeping his gaze steadily on the wall behind the vicars. ¡°I reject no Truth. What you were doing wasn¡¯t a pathway to Truth in the slightest.¡±


    ¡°So you admit your apostasy?¡± the vicar said, his voice scratching at my eardrums. ¡°I have orders to take you in for questioning. But I should slap you in irons now and haul you to our dungeons instead. So many have told the truth there that I know you will, too.¡±


    ¡°We knew the truth long ago,¡± the vicar on Zeneth¡¯s right said quietly. ¡°Need only confirm it, yes.¡±


    ¡°I wonder how your screams will sound?¡± the one on the left said with a manic glint in their eyes, the only emotion on their face. They asked the question as if they truly wished to know.


    That was too much for me to listen to. I stepped between the two mages as their mana began to flare, cutting their conversation short. ¡°Excuse me, vicar,¡± I said, my tone clipped. ¡°But Hofal here will soon be witnessing my ascender¡¯s examination. You can chat later if you wish, but the Ascender¡¯s Association is neutral ground.¡±


    Zeneth¡¯s eyes burned with anger as he stared at me. ¡°And who do you think you are, mage?¡± he said with his scratchy voice, flaring his killing intent and raising his hand to point at me. The intent washed over me ineffectually, and I felt my enmity at this man rise as he tried to threaten me into submission.


    I cracked my neck, making a visual show of resisting his intent. ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± I said proudly. ¡°Now, are you going to stop flexing your magical muscles at me in the Ascender¡¯s Association¡¯s ground?¡±


    A few of the younger mages waiting for their ascender''s assessment were giving the vicars thinly veiled glares. The older mages around us, however, wisely kept their attention focused on their projects and fellows.


    The vicar flushed, his already pale skin making the blush stand out more. ¡°You dare to interrupt official Doctrination business, Daen?¡±


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    That caught my attention. ¡°Official how? Is bothering me and my friend what the Doctrination spends its valuable time doing?¡±


    The vicar seemed to flounder as his usual intimidation tactics fell short. Most people caved immediately to the Doctrination¡¯s whims. ¡°Do you think I would tell a nobody like you?¡± he deflected, looking me up and down. His eyes lingered greedily on the weapons at my side. ¡°Stand aside. Ex-Initiate Hofal will be taken for questioning. If you need him so badly, find him when we¡¯re done with him.¡±


    He reached his hand out to grab my friend¡¯s shoulder.


    I snatched the man¡¯s hand out of the air and slowly, methodically forced it down. Zeneth coughed as the air was forced out of his lungs by my killing intent. ¡°You will get no captives here,¡± I said, watching the man squirm as he tried to yank his hand free of my grasp. But with my partly assimilated body and strengthened muscles, it was an effort in futility. ¡°And you will treat Hofal with the respect he deserves.¡±


    The other two vicars tried to react, but they were far weaker than their leader. A dual push of my telekinesis crest forced them to their knees, continuous pressure over their heads locking them in place. They cried out piteously.


    A few of the guards nearby gripped their spears, moving to break up our altercation. I absently wondered if they could separate me from these vermin.


    My growing anger was uncharacteristic, but that didn¡¯t matter. This man had tried to threaten my friend, tried to bully him into torture. Was it posturing? Maybe. I didn¡¯t care.


    I shoved the man¡¯s hand back, then released the telekinetic pressure on the vicars behind him. ¡°Leave us,¡± I said with finality.


    Zeneth looked at me with an expression of absolute hate. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for this, Toren Daen!¡± he screeched, shuffling back.


    I didn¡¯t have time to think I may have made a mistake. ¡°Leave. Us.¡± I said again, narrowing my eyes. ¡°We can settle this outside these walls if you want to bleed so badly.¡±


    It was then that a powerful pressure forced me to my hands and knees, breaking the bare stalemate I¡¯d reached. I felt my own anger drain like water through a sieve, leaving only a grasping fear as I tried to figure out what just happened. The killing intent drove the breath from my lungs, making me flounder like a fish on dry land. The air itself rejected my existence, pressing down on me from all sides like the weight of an ocean.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± a voice said from above me. The tone was slippery, dripping into my ears like venom. ¡°We were warned about you.¡±


    My panic held for a second that felt like an hour as my instincts tried to catch up to what had actually happened to my body. My limbs were locked in place by an invisible force, each a clawing knife at my throat.


    Then I felt Lady Dawn bolstering my mind, pressing back against the burden that sought to overwhelm me. I took a gasping breath, sucking in air as if I had never tasted it before.


    ¡°This might be fun,¡± the slimy voice said from above. I could feel their breath physically, the stench of putrid sewage even denser than the sewers themselves. ¡°Can you stand, little mage?¡±


    The arrogance in the tone brought that anger back. Now, I recognized it as a bleed-over from my bond. Lady Dawn¡¯s fury toward the Doctrination burned hot as a sun, to the point that it began to affect my own thoughts.


    I grit my teeth, trusting in Lady Dawn and myself. I put a single boot on the ground.


    ¡°Come on, come on!¡± the greasy voice said from above me, mocking my struggle. ¡°I know you can do it, little mage! You¡¯re so close!¡±


    Hofal was groaning face-down on the floor beside me, unable to resist the pressure. All around me, mages stalled in their tracks as they shied away from the confrontation. I used my emblem on myself, my telekinetic shroud slowly coalescing into place.


    I pushed myself to my feet at last, sweat glistening on my forehead as I glared at my assailant.


    It was a man with the same black-red vicar¡¯s robes as the priests behind him. His skin was a sunken gray, with splotchy patches of greenish-yellow blithe-stain all over. One of his eyes was misty, indicating some sort of blindness. His limbs were thin and gangly, the joints seeming to bend in the wrong directions in his thick robes.


    There were tatters in the ends of his black-red vicar¡¯s robe where blades had cut into them. There was no hair on his head, but that wasn¡¯t the most eye-catching feature he held. The most prominent feature was his onyx horns, stretching straight out a foot from his scalp.


    ¡°Vritra spawn,¡± I heard Lady Dawn hiss. ¡°An abomination against life!¡±


    That fire helped me look the Vritra-blooded vicar in the eye. My breath was coming heavily, and the pressure hadn¡¯t relented. I shifted into a combat stance, resting both my hands on Oath and Promise.


    The entire Ascender¡¯s Association had gone quiet as we faced each other, many mages shivering in the corners and hurriedly calling their superiors.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been a real thorn in my side,¡± the vicar said, not changing his stance to react to my obvious hostility. My legs burned from holding under his intent. ¡°Wrecking my product and ruining the Doctrination¡¯s vicars? And you¡¯re barely a mage.¡±


    My hands clenched on the pommels of my weapons. I didn¡¯t think I could fight this mage, especially without my First Phase. My eyes lingered on his horns; signs of Vritra blood. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know your name,¡± I said through clenched teeth, taking a glance at Hofal on the floor beneath me. His breathing was starting to stall, the pressure too much. I¡¯d have to move this quick, or he¡¯d drown on dry land. ¡°Do you want to fight me?¡±


    ¡°What nobody seems to realize, Daen, is that the greatest power comes from pain,¡± the Vritra-blooded mage said, ignoring my question as he leaned forward and drew a few fingers down his blithe-mottled face. ¡°Do you know what you did, destroying the Joans? You made me feel pain, little mage.¡±


    My mind automatically flashed back to the ominous words of the mages trailing me not long ago. Blood Joan had powerful backers. You are not as safe as you believe.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you more pain if you keep threatening my friend,¡± I said, fighting to keep on my feet. Inside my head, Lady Dawn burned. Maybe, with her help¡­


    The Vritra-blooded mage¡¯s eyes snapped to the ailing Hofal. ¡°Oh, that thing? How much air do you think he has left? The average mage can survive without their breath for a minute straight.¡± The vicar licked his lips almost sensuously. ¡°I know this well.¡±


    I drew my weapons slowly, my mana coating them in power. My enemy¡¯s eyes trailed over the red-layered steel, standing straight as I leveled them in his direction. He looked surprised to see it. Not afraid, exactly, just taken aback. He seemed to reach some sort of conclusion as he drew his eyes over the weapons.


    The mage turned around, his horns glinting in the light. ¡°My name is Mardeth, little mage. Keep that in mind.¡±


    The three vicars hastily fell in behind Mardeth as he strolled out, shooting venomous glares back at me. Where the other priests had seemed to float over the ground, Mardeth lurched unnaturally with each step, his twisted limbs making his walk ungainly.


    The pressure relented over me as the mage left. I sheathed my weapons, kneeling down to check on Hofal. He was barely conscious. I shook him gently as nervous murmuring grew around us, people finally able to breathe.


    Lady Dawn snarled as the mage left. I could now tell that much of the anger I¡¯d felt toward the vicars was drawn from the phoenix. Not all of it, of course, but it spurned my actions forward in a way I didn¡¯t expect. She hated them deeply.


    Personally.


    But there wasn¡¯t time to worry about that. Hofal groggily came to, his bushy eyebrows squinting in confusion.


    ¡°You almost passed out from the pressure,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s gone for now, though. Come on, can you stand?¡±


    Hofal gingerly let me help him to his feet. He probably weighed twice as much as I did, but he felt limp in my arms as I hefted him up. ¡°Who were those vicars?¡± I asked, feeling drained from the encounter.


    Hofal slumped into his chair. Both he and I were on the receiving end of a dozen stares from around the room. The boy who had tried to posture to me earlier nodded in respect as we met eyes.


    ¡°I used to be an initiate in the Doctrination,¡± Hofal said, staring at the ceiling. He looked empty, his usual reaffirming air drained away. ¡°But those vicars shouldn¡¯t be in Sehz-Clar. They¡¯re based out of Etril. I thought they wouldn¡¯t find me here¡­¡± he trailed off.


    I registered what my shield friend said, but I remembered how that mage¨CMardeth¨Csaid I caused him pain by destroying the Joans. And his blithe-scarred face¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Hof,¡± I said, grasping for something to say. ¡°Do you need to cancel this? If you need time to recover, I can wait a few days to take the assessment.¡±


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m good,¡± the big shield said. He pawed at his jacket, retrieving his pipe.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the Ascender¡¯s Association allows smoking indoors,¡± I said with a bit of humor.


    ¡°They don¡¯t,¡± Hofal agreed. ¡°But right now, I don¡¯t care.¡±


    Mardeth had only backed off from our confrontation when he saw my blades. I didn¡¯t have the feeling he was afraid of them; not in the slightest. It was more like they were an unexpected variable in dealing with me.


    I would have to send a thank-you note to Renea Shorn, even if Oath and Promise had tracking spells in them initially. I had a feeling our fight with those who peddled blithe was far from over.


    Are you okay? I asked Lady Dawn. Her anger had simmered off like vapor leaving boiling water, but it still clung to her thoughts.


    ¡°I am well, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn lied. ¡°I will not let my emotions influence you again. That was unacceptable of me.¡±


    It was an uncomfortable sensation, but I wasn¡¯t outright angry at the phoenix. You weren¡¯t trying to do it on purpose, I acknowledged, looking at the ceiling. There was a mosaic of an ascension portal on it, a dozen familiar runes matching those on Blood Daen¡¯s sigils.


    ¡°That does not excuse my error,¡± Lady Dawn replied. ¡°I wronged you, Contractor.¡±


    I huffed. Then you¡¯ll have to go light on me in training next time to make up for it, I said, hoping to reach a compromise. The phoenix really, really hated influencing minds.


    I felt a note of hesitation over our bond.


    I¡¯m joking with you, I said to the asura, feeling tired. I hadn¡¯t even taken my assessment yet. I¡¯m not hurt by what you did. It¡¯s not permanent, and I¡¯ll learn from it.


    The phoenix didn¡¯t seem to be convinced, but before I could pester her more, I heard a voice over the loudspeaker. ¡°Toren Daen, Ascender¡¯s Candidate! Report to Booth 3!¡±

 Chapter 54: The Relictombs

    Toren Daen


    ¡°Striker candidate Toren Daen,¡± said a tall woman with a face that looked like it hadn¡¯t seen enough coffee, ¡°Flexibility of offensive magic, above average. Manipulation of mana, average. Athleticism, exceptional. Mental acuity, above average. Survivability rate, high.¡±


    One of the greatest injustices in this world was that there was no coffee in it. I saw it in the eyes of practically every receptionist I¡¯d met on this continent.


    She held her notepad to the side. ¡°You¡¯ve passed your ascender¡¯s assessment, Lord Daen. Congratulations are in order.¡±


    I smiled tiredly. The assessment differed very little from what was displayed in The Beginning After the End and in my own research. The only notable change was the mana beasts I was tasked with fighting. Instead of giant arachnoids, I faced the small shadow cats I¡¯d fought in the Clarwood Forest.


    Regis¡¯s assumption that he and Arthur faced normal mana beasts from the surface was correct.


    A small man clothed in the same white mage¡¯s robe and red armband spoke up next. ¡°Since you displayed moderate caster abilities, we recommend partying with a shield and sentry as your primary focus, though a capable caster should be on your radar.¡±


    I nodded, shaking each of their hands. I hadn¡¯t displayed many ranged abilities such as my fireballs, sound grenades, or the techniques I had trained in the Clarwood Forest these past few weeks. Instead, I used generic fire, sound, and telekinetic shrouds along with Oath and Promise to deal with the obstacles I faced.


    Hofal watched from the sidelines, too worn and shaken from today¡¯s earlier events to comment. He nodded as I stepped in next to him, and both of us silently escorted back to the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association.


    ¡°You did very well for a non-academy mage,¡± Hofal said from the side. ¡°That¡¯s something to be proud of, Toren,¡± he said.


    I shrugged. ¡°I had a great teacher,¡± I replied. ¡°Now, I¡¯ve got to prepare for my first ascent.¡±


    My dimension ring was filled and double-filled with rations and water. I wasn¡¯t taking the possibility of the Relictombs reacting to Lady Dawn lightly


    Hofal looked at me. ¡°You¡¯re not going into the Relictombs without me, Toren,¡± he said, patting the axe on his belt. ¡°I¡¯m going to join you.¡±


    I turned to face him, surprised by his assertion. ¡°Why? I thought you were retired from ascending.¡±


    ¡°I did retire, Toren,¡± he said, his gruff voice seeming older. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to sign you up to be an ascender just to leave you to take your prelim with strangers.¡±


    My thoughts jumped back to Lady Dawn¡¯s warning. I couldn¡¯t predict how the Relictombs would react to me. If I let Hofal come with me on my ascent, I would be responsible for anything that happened to him as a result.


    I pulled Hofal off to the side, getting a perturbed look from the man, the act emphasizing his bushy brows. I lowered my voice as I spoke. ¡°Look, Hofal, I can¡¯t predict how the Relictombs will react to my presence. It could be a lot more dangerous than you¡¯re used to.¡±


    Hofal scrutinized my face. ¡°Then that¡¯s all the more reason for me to go with you,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re fighting, Toren, but you don¡¯t need to do it alone.¡±


    I swallowed at his words, looking away. I thought of his helpful advice last night and how I finally began to meld into the community again.


    I was alone in this.


    ¡°No,¡± I said again, shaking my head. ¡°I won¡¯t be responsible for what might happen to you. If you want to, you can wait near the descension portal for me.¡±


    Hofal and I stared each other down for a minute before he reluctantly sighed. I wasn¡¯t going to budge on this, no matter what.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit I am too old to be a strong ascender any longer. I would only slow you down, I think. But at least allow me to find you a competent ascender to take you on your prelim. I¡¯ve got some old connections I can pull on,¡± he said, almost pleading. ¡°You do remember what I said to you, about being reckless?¡±


    That interaction with the vicars shook him far more than I thought, I realized as I considered. He¡¯s worried for me, far more than before.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, moving back to the path toward the Relictombs portal. Hofal followed slightly behind me, a contrast to his confidence from when we first arrived.


    ¡°His worry makes sense,¡± Lady Dawn interjected. ¡°The Doctrination are cruel and competent. They are not so fragile as the Joans,¡± she said.


    That gave me pause. What do you know about them that I don¡¯t? I asked.


    Lady Dawn didn¡¯t respond.


    My feet had begun to take me toward the portal to the Relictombs a ways away. It stood tall and proud, glowing a shimmering purple as it rose over the long line in front of it. I could trace the runes on the edge from memory, each glyph matching a sign on my signet ring.


    I held my hand up, my perspective from so far off making it look like I held the portal in my grasp. I compared the runes on my ring to the ones shining a brilliant violet on the portal rim contemplatively.


    I got into line behind a couple of mages who were bent over an artifact, discussing something in hushed whispers. It didn¡¯t take long for the line to diminish. Hofal and I entered the pearlescent portals, the transfer seamless as I appeared on the first layer of the Relictombs.


    I was immediately struck by the difference in lighting. The first layer of the Relictombs was dark, with only tall cranes hoisting huge spheres radiating light and torches along the pathways. The sound of splitting rock dominated the zone, huge quarries nearby working to extract marble-like stone. Cattle-like mana beasts roamed in specialized pastures, feasting on an orange grass I couldn¡¯t recognize.


    I was jostled to the side by the next person exiting the portal, prompting me to get a move on. Hofal seemed to regain some of his confidence as we entered a place more familiar to him, taking the lead once more.


    We began to walk toward the portal leading to the second layer of the Relictombs, joining the droves of ascenders waiting in line. ¡°It¡¯s a lot to take in,¡± I said absently, my eyes wandering.


    I accidentally met the gaze of a nearby man with extremely bright clothes. He flashed a fake smile that showed too many teeth, immediately moving toward me. Hofal groaned.


    ¡°I can tell you¡¯re new here!¡± the man said, holding up a small bottle. ¡°Which is why I know you¡¯ll appreciate our discount protein paste. It keeps for a long, long time, so you won¡¯t have to worry about running out of food on your ascents!¡±


    ¡°Uh,¡± I said, taken aback by this man¡¯s flamboyant attire and attitude. ¡°No, thank you?¡±


    ¡°Come now,¡± the man said, his eyes roaming my body in a way that made me feel like I had been dunked in oil. ¡°You¡¯re here for your preliminary ascent, aren¡¯t you? Anything can happen in the Relictombs. It¡¯s always wise to be prepared!¡±


    ¡°My nephew here is already prepared for his ascent,¡± Hofal said, laying a hand on my shoulder. He looked at the salesman with an expression that could pierce stone. ¡°We don¡¯t need to purchase anything more.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± the salesman said again, his smile turning a bit more strained. ¡°Why, just last week one of my customers was nearly trapped in a zone! It was only my patented preserves that allowed him to¨C¡±


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    Hofal turned me away from the man, leaving the salesman to flounder awkwardly. I got the idea quickly: if I simply ignored the sales pitch, the man would eventually find a more suitable target.


    The brightly dressed salesman eventually went back to his nearby stall, grumbling slightly about Hofal ruining his game. It might not have been audible to me if not for my enhanced hearing.


    ¡°First rule of the Relictombs, Toren: never look away from the portal to the second layer. You¡¯re inviting trouble if you do. That¡¯s how they identify wogarts.¡±


    I nodded slowly in acknowledgment, forcibly keeping my focus ahead. It was hard: there were so many things clamoring for my attention. Brightly colored salesmen, the crooning of beasts, and the crunching of stone from the quarries. Not to mention the smell was atrocious, but I¡¯d adapted to worse in the sewers. ¡°How long were you an ascender?¡± I asked curiously.


    ¡°Fifteen odd years,¡± the middle-aged man replied, a faraway look in his eyes. ¡°Before that, I was an initiate in the Doctrination.¡±


    I considered this for a moment. ¡°Why did you leave?¡± I asked. ¡°The Doctrination, I mean.¡±


    ¡°I wanted to be part of something big,¡± Hofal replied. I had a feeling there was more than one reason he kept his gaze trained on the portal to the second layer. ¡°When I was a boy, I watched a temple being built, stone by stone. When it was done, it was the most beautiful thing I¡¯d ever seen. But the inside¡­ the inside was rotten,¡± he said, trailing off.


    Our walk to the second portal continued in relative silence. After handing my ascender¡¯s badge to the guard, both Hofal and I were allowed to the second level.


    It was even more overwhelming than the first. An entire city stretched before me under a sunless sky, the crowded streets swarming with mana signatures. Inns stretched in every direction, directing the flow of foot traffic with their inviting signs. Blacksmiths, weapon markets, and other multi-level storefronts threatened to overwhelm my eyes.


    It was a lot to take in.


    Hofal patted me on the shoulder, drawing me down another street that he walked familiarly. ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked. ¡°You said you wanted to find me a team, but you didn¡¯t tell me how.¡±


    ¡°I might have taken the liberty of calling on a few old friends of mine before you took your exam,¡± Hofal said. ¡°They should be waiting for you at the inn we used to use as a meetup spot.¡±


    I hoped these mages were powerful enough to fight what Lady Dawn¡¯s lineage may bring down upon us. I already wasn¡¯t comfortable ascending with others due to the uncertainty around how I would affect the Relictombs. But I had no other choice if I wanted to go on my preliminary ascent.


    I followed slowly after Hofal as I quietly marveled at the sprawling city around me. It was easily many times the size of Fiachra, with each and every street alive with light and mana. I watched as a young mage hawked his goods to passersby, drawing a few interested men and women. A busty mage with blonde hair advertised an inn on a small sign, and from the way the cut of her dress emphasized her chest, I had a feeling most of the clientele they¡¯d attract would be men.


    ¡°Enjoying the view?¡± Hofal asked, causing me to jump slightly.


    Uh¡­


    ¡°The second layer of the Relictombs always gets this reaction from every new ascender,¡± Hofal said, not noticing my flush. ¡°You¡¯re taking it remarkably well. When I first saw this level, I couldn¡¯t keep focused on one thing at all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said with a stilted laugh. Stupid, puberty-driven body. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen anything so strange. I wonder how all of this is even possible. I mean, an entirely self-contained dungeon that people can populate? It seems impossible.¡±


    Of course, I knew the answer: aether. But part of me¨Cthe part still grounded in earthen physics and scientific method¨Cwondered how in the hell this place worked. The gravity here felt just as stable as on the world outside. Did that mean this dimension was just as large as the planet and spherical to generate that pull? Or was the gravity magically applied by some aspect of this zone?


    I was able to accept all of this remarkably well, at least until I started thinking about it too much.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see a lot of things you¡¯d think were impossible on ascents,¡± Hofal chided. ¡°Don¡¯t let yourself get stuck on little things. That¡¯s what the researchers are for.¡±


    I wondered if the Sovereign¡¯s researchers could even figure this place out. There were two professions considered positions of absolute honor in Alacryan society: being an ascender or being a researcher. Strength of body and strength of mind.


    Researchers were tasked with trying to advance the implementation of mana in everyday life and dissecting the mysteries of the Relictombs. From the books I had access to, they had made many leaps and bounds in understanding some of the relics retrieved, but none in regards to how the Tombs actually functioned.


    Then again, I doubted discoveries such as those would be public knowledge.


    ¡°Part of me doesn¡¯t want to know how these impossibilities work,¡± I said honestly, staring at the sunless sky. Somehow, despite the lack of a star in the sky, this place was constantly illuminated as if there was one. Shadows were cast at an angle, indicating some sort of light was streaming downward diagonally, but looking in that direction revealed nothing in the air but a tapestry of blue. ¡°It would ruin some of the mystique. If I knew how this worked, it wouldn¡¯t be quite as magical.¡±


    Hofal hummed. Our walk continued in relative silence afterward until we reached a small inn. The sign above the door read ¡®The Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard.¡¯


    Opening the door revealed a homey atmosphere with a flickering hearth at the end. The inn had a few patrons wandering about, carrying pints of alcohol and patting each other on the back. Every single one of them was a mage, something I still wasn¡¯t used to.


    A bartender looked over the controlled ruckus with a weary but approving eye, cleaning a mug with a dry rag. In the corner, a man was playing the lute, adding a lilting ambiance to the already hearty feeling in the air.


    Hofal entered the inn with a spring in his steps, leading me toward a specific table in the back. It was large and round, occupied by a diverse array of characters.


    As Hofal approached the table, a tall man stood, sensing our approach. He had blonde hair and piercing green eyes. When he spotted my friend, he flashed a playful smile.


    ¡°Hofal!¡± he said patting the axe-wielder on the back with a heavy thump. ¡°It¡¯s been too long! Have you been retired for a year already?¡±


    ¡°Nearly two,¡± Hofal acknowledged. ¡°I hope my request didn¡¯t take you away from anything important.¡±


    The blonde man dismissed Hofal¡¯s concern with a wave. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, old friend. You¡¯ve helped me out of too many scraps for this to inconvenience me.¡± His attention turned to me. ¡°And I presume you are Toren Daen?¡±


    I nodded, raising my hand to shake. ¡°In the flesh. I don¡¯t know what Hofal said about me, but I hope I exceed whatever lofty expectations you have,¡± I said with a smirk.


    ¡°Good to meet you, Toren.¡± The man took my hand. His shake was steady and firm. ¡°Darrin Ordin, at your service.¡±


    My hand unconsciously clenched, making Darrin¡¯s brow furrow slightly. I quickly smoothed out my shock.


    ¡°Of the Unblooded party?¡± I said, recovering. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯d be taking me on my prelim.¡±


    Darrin scratched the back of his neck, his boyish grin appearing there. It seemed I¡¯d recovered from my slip. ¡°You¡¯ve heard of us, then? Hofal told me you¡¯ve helped him do some real good for the people in East Fiachra,¡± he said. ¡°And anybody that helps those less privileged than them is good in my book.¡±


    Hofal spoke up next. ¡°Darrin¡¯s a good man, Toren. I¡¯m half convinced if he visited Fiachra before our work, he¡¯d try and take down the Joans himself. There¡¯s nobody I¡¯d trust more to take you into the Relictombs.¡±


    I kept my face carefully calm as I went over all I knew about Darrin Ordin. He had helped Arthur when he was on trial by the Granbehls, citing a desire to help those who didn¡¯t have a named or highblood backing. But in the books, Darrin was retired, living his days semi-peacefully in his estate in rural Sehz-Clar. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°You give me too much credit, Hofal. I¡¯ve got a habit of helping up-and-coming ascenders without backing get through academies, and on the rare instance, their prelims.¡±


    A woman behind Darrin stood up, brushing off her red-lined battlerobes. ¡°He has a habit of taking in strays,¡± she said with a good-natured smile. Her auburn hair trailed down to her back, bringing out the freckles on her cheeks. ¡°His bleeding heart is a bit too big for his chest.¡±


    Darrin rolled his eyes while the woman introduced herself. ¡°I¡¯m Alandra. Darrin¡¯s our resident striker, while I support him as a sentry.¡± I shook her hand. ¡°Our caster is currently being a bit flighty, so we¡¯ll have to make it through a zone without their assistance.¡±


    At the mention of other party members, I looked behind them. There was another man conked out on the table. He had a longer beard that was currently soaking up some spilled drink on the table.


    ¡°That¡¯s Jared,¡± Alandra said with an irritated huff, kicking the man hard in the leg. He bolted awake, knocking over the mug that was emptied in front of him. ¡°He pretends to be a shield.¡±


    The man blinked owlishly, trying to adjust to the light. He only had one eye, the other covered by an eyepatch. The eye he had left wandered around with the confusion only somebody who has just been roused from a deep sleep possesses. ¡°What¡¯s up? Are we leaving already?¡±


    Darrin chuckled. ¡°You know, Jared, while you were sleeping we found your replacement.¡± He slapped me on the back. ¡°He¡¯s got all the qualifications to be an amazing shield, like staying awake during meetings.¡±


    Jared glared at Darrin. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault your long speeches are boring and the ale is good.¡± He looked at me with his single eye. ¡°Hey, kid? Try and stay alive. The pay¡¯s not great and all your teammates will try and ruin your beauty sleep, but¨Chey!¡±


    Alandra had pulled the elastic band of Jared¡¯s eyepatch, then let it snap back into place. I winced at the sound. That was sure to sting. ¡°You horrid woman!¡± he cried, trying to ward her off with his hand.


    ¡°That¡¯ll keep you awake, you miser. We¡¯re taking Toren here on his prelim.¡±


    Jared pulled himself out of his chair with a grumbled, ¡°Nobody appreciates me around here,¡± but it was a good-natured kind of mumbling.


    Darrin shook his head at their antics, turning back to me. ¡°So Toren, are you ready to be an ascender?¡±

 Chapter 55: First Ascent

    Toren Daen


    ¡°So Toren,¡± Alandra asked, ¡°What academy are you an alumnus of?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t had academy training,¡± I admitted sheepishly. ¡°Though I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll do any worse than someone who has. I got a pretty good score on my ascender¡¯s assessment.¡±


    Alandra raised a brow. ¡°And I¡¯m guessing you want me to ask what that score is?¡±


    ¡°I got above average on flexibility of offensive magic and mental acuity. I scored average on manipulation of mana, but got exceptional on athleticism.¡±


    Darrin whistled in appreciation. ¡°It¡¯s difficult to get exceptional in anything. You scored a lot better than many academy graduates.¡±


    I smiled slightly, feeling a bit of pride in my abilities. Though Toren had trained for many years to hone his magic, I¡¯d only had Lady Dawn¡¯s tutoring for a little under three months. My progression of power had been exponential since she began to guide me.


    We were nearing the large ascension portal, having just verified our identities with a nearby attendant. I stared up at the glimmering arch, thinking once more about the possible consequences of bringing people with me. I had a simulet in my dimension ring that matched the rest of the Unblooded party. Hofal was waiting at the inn for us to return.


    Lady Dawn? I sent out. I don¡¯t know if you have a way to bind yourself closer to me, but I recommend you do it. These portals don¡¯t like asura very much.


    ¡°You will not lose me,¡± the phoenix replied. ¡°I am nestled in your core as we speak. You have no need to worry.¡±


    At least that was reassuring.


    ¡°It¡¯s the first day of the rest of your life,¡± Darrin said as I stared, clapping me on the back. ¡°These portals are a door to the greatest trials you will know. Take a minute to breathe, Toren.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got everything you need?¡± Jared asked from the side. He was scratching at his beard, which was as far from combed as humanly possible. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear you whining that you¡¯re low on water. I¡¯m always low on alcohol in there, and you never hear me complaining.¡±


    Alandra tried to kick Jared in the shin again, something that he just barely sidestepped. ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, Toren. Though it is important to make sure you¡¯ve got everything you need.¡±


    ¡°That woman takes all the fun out of things,¡± Jared grumbled from the side. He had a bit of a belly, but his meaty arms offset it. With his tall shield strapped to his back and the small hammer he had strapped to his waist, I thought he would get along with the dwarves in Dicathen.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got several weeks'' worth of food and a week¡¯s worth of water,¡± I said, hefting my dimension ring in the air. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get caught unawares, even if most prelims only take a day.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s smart,¡± Alandra said. ¡°I¡¯ve known a few mages who barely survived their jaunts through the Relictombs when they ran out of water. Better to overprepare than underprepare.¡±


    I exhaled lightly, preparing myself for the next step. I couldn¡¯t stare at the shimmering plane of purple forever. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s time for my first ascent.¡±


    ¡°Do you not have armor?¡± Darrin asked from my side. ¡°If you do, now¡¯s the time to put it on.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯ve got a spell that protects me better than any armor I¡¯d be able to afford.¡±


    Darrin looked at me like he didn¡¯t quite buy that, but I was done stalling to get my emotions in order.


    As one, the four of us stepped into the portal. The transition was seamless, with no sense of nausea or disorientation.


    The first thing I noticed upon entering the Relictombs was the heat. It was the heavy, dry heat that beat down on you during the depths of July. The air was dry, making it difficult to breathe.


    It must be over a hundred degrees here, I thought, squinting through the heat waves. Sand was all around us in a seemingly endless sea, a desert filled with rearing dunes trapping us in this hostile expanse. There was nothing by desert as far as the eye could see. The sun judged from far above, the glare keeping me from looking up.


    I was immediately thankful I packed a week¡¯s worth of water.


    Lady Dawn? I asked, unable to suppress a jolt of worry. The phoenix had said she¡¯d be able to follow me through, but¨C


    ¡°I am here, Contractor. Keep your attention on your surroundings. This will be the first true test of my teachings.¡±


    She was right. It was too early to tell if this zone was affected by my presence, but I wouldn¡¯t hold my breath.


    The other three ascenders peered around with solemn expressions. I was immediately on guard from what I saw.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± I asked, trying to keep my worry out of my voice. ¡°You¡¯ve all got a strange look on your faces.¡±


    Darrin shook his head. There were already beads of sweat forming on his skin from the feverish atmosphere. ¡°We just hate zones like this,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°It adds a level of discomfort that never goes away.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already got sand in my pants,¡± Jared grumbled with a sorrowful tone.


    ¡°How?¡± Alandra asked. ¡°You haven¡¯t even moved from where you entered!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate sand, woman,¡± Jared snapped. ¡°You¡¯ll never get it out of those pretty robes of yours. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Alandra squawked indignantly, but Darrin was busy surveying our surroundings. ¡°Jared, can you make us a canopy to travel under?¡± he said, not looking at the mage. ¡°We need to conserve water the best we can. A bit of shade will help with that.¡±


    Jared complained, but he went ahead anyway. ¡°Give me a second to modify my spell.¡±


    After a few seconds, a thin metal sheet was conjured from thin air. Jared moved his hands, directing the plate over our heads.


    I immediately noticed a difference as the sun cut out. It was still sweltering, but now I was sure that once my body melted, my remains wouldn¡¯t catch fire.


    I wiped the sweat from my brow. ¡°That¡¯s useful,¡± I said. ¡°I wonder how hot that metal is going to get?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know, kid,¡± Jared said. His one eye squinted past our makeshift cover. ¡°Think you can figure out where we need to go, squinty-woman?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me squinty-woman,¡± Alandra snapped back. ¡°And yes, if you¡¯ll let me concentrate I can get a spell off.¡± S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Alandra closed her eyes. I felt fire mana swirl around her, slowly coalescing into a stylized rod in her hands. I stared at it curiously, wondering what it did.


    Alandra turned in place. The little rod of fire in her hands morphed as she turned, an arrow growing out of one end as it pointed behind us.


    ¡°The exit portal is likely that way,¡± Alandra said, closing her fist and dismissing the spell. Seeing my confusion, she clarified. ¡°One of my spells can detect dense clusters of mana from a long radius away. Portals usually have a specific organization of mana that I¡¯ve gotten adept at sensing.¡±


    Huh. That was interesting. I wondered if that was how most people got through zones.


    ¡°Welp, we won¡¯t get anywhere standing by. We¡¯ve gotta get moving now, while the sun is still high.¡±


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    ¡°Why is it so important for us to move now?¡± I asked, not disagreeing but wanting to understand Darrin¡¯s experience.


    Darrin¡¯s piercing green eyes hardened as he looked in the direction Alandra¡¯s compass spell had pointed. ¡°One thing you learn quickly, Toren, is that there are rarely times to rest in the Relictombs. The night will be just as dangerous as the day, just in a different way.¡±


    With that, we began to move.


    ¡ª


    Several hours later, I was utterly miserable. I¡¯d gone through half a day¡¯s worth of water already. My boots squelched with each step, the sweat soaking my socks making itself known. My clothes were sticky with sweat, and I¡¯d somehow gotten sand in my pants.


    ¡°How do I have sand in my trousers?¡± I lamented aloud. ¡°I haven¡¯t even touched the ground with anything but my boots!¡±


    ¡°I told you, kid,¡± Jared said commiseratingly. ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate sand! You¡¯ll never get it out of that nice little waistcoat you¡¯re wearing. Everything itches, especially my backs-¡±


    ¡°Do you have an estimate of how close we are?¡± Darrin interrupted Jared, focusing on the sentry. There was, in fact, sand ground into her robes.


    Alandra recast her one spell, judging the fire rod. ¡°Probably another day or two of walking,¡± she said, brushing a soaked lock of auburn hair out of her face. ¡°Hold on, let me check to see if there are any other sources of mana nearby. There might be secondary objectives, or maybe some accolades nearby.¡±


    She focused on her rune, conjuring a different matrix of fire. Small wisps of fire danced in a unique rendition of a map. She frowned, stepping out from under the protective shade of Jared¡¯s metal cover. ¡°There¡¯s something really nearby, actually.¡± She turned in place, peering at her spell. ¡°Just a little more over-¡±


    The dune she was standing on suddenly gave out from over her, the bits of rock under her gravitating down. She yelped as her spell winked out, sliding down the dune unnaturally fast. She lost her footing quickly, starting to tumble.


    Darrin cried out, rushing toward her body. Jared cursed, beginning to cast another spell.


    I was faster than both of them. A pulse of telekinesis and fire from the soles of my boots rocketed me toward the tumbling sentry.


    I slid down the dune, catching up quickly. It didn¡¯t take long for me to realize the pull on the sand around us was unnatural. It was sinking too quickly, a certain weight on my boots as they settled onto the fine grains.


    Lady Dawn, I said, trying to grab onto the sentry. Can you tell what¡¯s doing this?!


    I hauled Alandra to her feet. She sputtered as she continued to flail, her balance far from my own. She eventually clutched onto me like a koala, watching something down below with fearful eyes.


    ¡°Below you, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn said, sounding unconcerned. ¡°You are in the pit of a welldraw kantamid.¡±


    That doesn¡¯t help! I thought back, turning around. What the hell is a welldraw-


    I saw it there. In the center of a tall funnel of sand, a chitinous beast waited with quivering mandibles as long as my body. It pulled on the sand around us with some sort of gravity spell, drawing us deeper. I could only see its head, but it must¡¯ve been even bigger underneath the sand.


    If those jaws got me, they¡¯d be able to snap me in half. I shivered.


    ¡°The kantamid larvae lures its prey into a gravity-locked trap of sand, trying to pull its kill into its venomous jaws. You would do well to avoid that fate.¡±


    Oh, shit. Lady Dawn was using her training voice. I wasn¡¯t going to get much help from her.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to throw you!¡± I said to Alandra. I couldn¡¯t fight effectively trying to protect her. ¡°Brace yourself!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± the auburn-haired sentry cried, unable to hear me over the sound of churning sand.


    I held her aloft, making her squeal, before hurling her toward Jared above us. The shield had begun to circle the cone, knowing that his speed wasn¡¯t enough to try and enter the trap. He was trying to find a better place to approach, but Alandra¡¯s screams drew his attention. She soared through the air, yelling to the high heavens.


    Jared caught her with a grunt, toppling into the desert. I supposed it was inevitable that his ass would eventually touch the sand.


    I was less than thirty feet from the bottom of the pit now. I spied Darrin Ordin trying to reach me, skating down the sand on shoes of wind.


    Any advice, Lady Dawn? I asked.


    ¡°The beast is slow to move and has a surprisingly soft cranium,¡± the asura replied. ¡°Your speed is your advantage.¡±


    I drew Oath and Promise, feeling the gravity magic¡¯s effect on me. I could escape this trap easily enough, but I came into this hellish dungeon to test my abilities and hone my combat skills.


    And not a moment too soon. The kantamid looked at me with beady eyes, anger in them at having one of its prey escape. The aether beast dug its orangish mandibles into the sand in front of it, then snapped its head up, kicking up sand toward me.


    A wave of sand defied gravity, racing toward me with speed. The churning mass got larger as it approached, intent on swallowing me whole. I could see the beast¡¯s tactic now: like an antlion on steroids, it would draw unsuspecting prey into its hole, then disorient them and drag them to their doom.


    I grit my teeth, pressing into the ground with a burst of telekinesis. I flipped sideways, avoiding the sand with room to spare. I tossed Promise upward, the dagger soaring before it was abruptly caught with my telekinesis. I mentally directed the weapon down, the flash of reddened steel a deadly arrow.


    My dagger scored a cut across the creature¡¯s mandibles, making it screech in pain and interrupting another attempt to throw a wave of sand at me. At that moment, Darrin skated to my side. He was wearing a set of heavy gauntlets, which matched his looser clothing.


    ¡°Hofal mentioned you had a tendency to rush into danger,¡± he said breathily, still feeling the effects of the heat above us. ¡°I should¡¯ve expected you to rush in like that.¡±


    We were still slowly drifting down toward the kantamid, the sand falling unnaturally.


    ¡°I¡¯m predictable like that,¡± I said conversationally, my dagger flying back to my hand. It was none the worse for wear. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill this thing,¡± I said, glaring down at the antlion-wannabe. ¡°I¡¯d be happy for any help you can lend.¡±


    ¡°I hate insects,¡± Darrin said, making me immediately like the man more. ¡°I¡¯ll help you kill it.¡±


    Darrin thrust his fists forward, a burst of wind materializing ten feet away. The wind punch intercepted another wave of sand sent by the aether beast, the two canceling each other out. If an insect could look pissed, I¡¯m sure the kantamid at the bottom of the pit would be the perfect example.


    ¡°Do you have any ranged spells you can use?¡± Darrin asked. ¡°If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll have to get closer to that beast if I want my wind punch to damage it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got something that could work,¡± I said. ¡°Can you cover me?¡±


    Darrin nodded, using his wind punch to break another one of the beast¡¯s sand waves. ¡°Do what you need to, Toren!¡±


    Feeling reassured, I sheathed Oath, then used a burst of telekinesis to push off the sand. I vaulted into the air, soaring over the kantamid. It was digging its mandibles into the sand again, trying to fling the granular material at Darrin. He¡¯d succeeded at identifying himself as a threat.


    I concentrated on one of the template spells I¡¯d designed during my last three weeks of training. I had taken inspiration from the fire constructs that Dornar Joan used. One of my tried and true methods of using my telekinesis rune was throwing rocks like a shotgun, but that method became less and less effective at damaging enemies as time went on. After all, I was using normal stones.


    I had to find a solution that played to my strengths. And so, a dozen beads of solid fire coalesced in my hands. Using a mix of pure mana, I was able to make my fire spells far more solid than in nature.


    I cocked my hand back, twisting midair so I was upside down. With a cry, I threw my fire marbles with telekinesis, the tiny glowing spheres becoming streaks of orange light as they shot off at absurd speeds.


    My spell peppered the ground like a cluster bomb, sending tiny explosions of flame as my fire beads dug into the ground in a dozen different places. One seared a whole straight through a thick mandible, spraying greenish goop over the sand. Another few impacted the beast¡¯s head, punching holes in the thick chitin.


    I landed solidly on the other side of the inverted cone of sand, exhaling at the maneuver. The most difficult part of using solid fire was that it had a horrible tendency to burst apart when I used my forceful telekinesis on it. But I only needed it to stay intact for a second.


    It screeched piteously, leaking goo as it tried to flick more sand.


    The unnatural pull on the sand ceased as the beast slowly stopped struggling. I cautiously walked down the sand, Promise held tightly in my left hand.


    When I was close, I got a chance to inspect the creature¡¯s remains. It was certainly insectoid in nature. The mandibles were covered in thin spines, which dripped with a greenish venom. The chitin blended in with the sand remarkably well.


    I barely had time to react as the beast¡¯s head suddenly whipped to the side, the jaw set to spear me through the chest. I brought Promise up to defend, but time seemed to slow. Would I actually block this? Would my telekinetic shroud be enough to keep me alive?


    I didn¡¯t have to answer any of those questions. A burst of compressed wind exploded underneath the kantamid¡¯s head, blowing a hole straight through the chitin. A spray of goop splattered against the sand, and the kantamid finally went still.


    I turned my head to the side, seeing Darrin. His gauntleted hand was still in the ending movements of an uppercut.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said a bit shakily. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if my barrier would¡¯ve blocked that.¡±


    ¡°Something to keep in mind, Toren,¡± Darrin said, dismissing my gratitude sternly. ¡°Always confirm your kill if you¡¯re going to approach. These beasts aren¡¯t like those on the surface.¡±


    Darrin pushed aside the head. From how the sand began to shift, I got a peek at the body underneath the sand. The kantamid was easily over twenty feet long. I gulped.


    ¡°They fight to kill, not to survive. On the surface, mana beasts will retreat when they know they¡¯re outmatched. Not here. Remember that.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I will.¡±

 Chapter 56: The Night

    Toren Daen


    Alandra was right, even if she nearly tumbled into the welldraw kantamid¡¯s trap. Underneath the corpse were tarnished remains of an old culture. I recognized the bones of a few ascenders and what was left of their gear, some unfortunate souls lost to the ages under the sandy body of this insectoid monster.


    Anything with more than four legs really did deserve to die.


    Accolades were split evenly among us according to battle contribution, but both Darrin and I cut our portions in half so it was an even divide between the four of us. After all, Alandra was the one who found the kantamid, even if by accident. And Jared was the one who caught the sentry after I rather unceremoniously tossed her to him.


    It wasn¡¯t much loot, but it was a worthy prize for the effort of the battle according to Darrin. Our party had decided to camp on the outskirts of the kantamid trap as the sun began to slowly dip under the horizon.


    Darrin had a few tarp tents set up for us all. As the sun lowered, the temperature dropped exponentially. Even though dusk hadn¡¯t fully wrapped the world in its grip, it was already pleasantly cool.


    The sands didn¡¯t provide stable foundations for our tents, but the Unblooded party weathered through with clear experience. Jared conjured long, thin poles of metal, using them to anchor our tents deep down. Alandra used what little fire manipulation she could to fuse the sand together around the metal poles, further solidifying them in place. Even though the two constantly bickered as they did it, they worked flawlessly as a team. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to put out the fire once night comes,¡± Darrin was saying. ¡°I don¡¯t know what sort of beasts hunt in the night of this zone, but you can be sure they¡¯ll see our light as a beacon to swarm us. I don¡¯t know about you, but I don¡¯t want to be overrun in the desert.¡±


    ¡°How are we going to set up night watch?¡± Jared asked, already looking like he was ready to fall asleep. He was still caked in sand from the tumble he and Alandra had taken, and despite his best efforts, he hadn¡¯t managed to get a single grain out of his beard.


    I was wondering at what point he would have to cut his losses and simply shave it off. When I asked, he¡¯d simply looked at me like I was insane.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the last watch,¡± Darrin offered, ¡°Since I know neither of you two will want it,¡± he said with good humor.


    In the end, it turned out that I would take the first watch. Apparently, the other three agreed that it was the easiest watch for a beginner. This was because I essentially only had to stay two hours up past my normal bedtime instead of waking up in the middle of my sleep and being forced to stay attentive.


    That was nice of them.


    I sat on a small metal cube Jared had conjured for the watch to sit in. Our tents were arranged in a circular formation around the box, and the tents were close enough to the ground that I could see over them with ease.


    Alandra and Jared had already settled into their tents, and I could swear I already heard the one-eyed shield snoring. I could definitely hear Alandra complaining about said snoring in low mutters, audible to my enhanced ears.


    ¡°If you spot anything you don¡¯t feel sure about, don¡¯t hesitate to wake us up,¡± Darrin said, taking one last look around the sands. The light was low now, and the temperature was actually somewhat pleasant. ¡°I expect these sands will be a lot more active at night. Keep your eyes peeled.¡±


    I nodded wordlessly. Darrin shuffled back to his tent, getting into the small cloth bundle with ease.


    And so I settled in to wait. The only sound was the brush of wind as it raced through the air. As was my habit since training in the Clarwood Forest, I looked to the sky.


    I felt a shock run through me as I realized there were no stars in the sky. I didn¡¯t know why I expected to see them in this pocket dimension. For all the power of the djinn, they could never create the far-off galaxies, light years away. Even if it was fake, maybe I wanted to see a tapestry of lights flickering across the sky.


    There was no Basilisk¡¯s Tail. No Struggling Ascender. The Lightning Spell was nowhere to be seen, the galactic pocket nonexistent in this other realm.


    Looking up at this starless expanse, I was forcibly reminded of my previous life. Pollution blocked out the night sky, the fires of industry taking the constellations as fuel for rampant progress.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision. Lady Dawn was peering at the sky herself, a strange longing in her burning eyes. As part of our routine, Lady Dawn would help me assimilate, and then I¡¯d withdraw one of her books on the distant suns from my dimension ring for her to read.


    ¡°Why do you love the stars so much?¡± I found myself blurting out. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about your life, Lady Dawn, but I see how you watch the sky every night.¡±


    The phoenix didn¡¯t look at me. The absence of the stars seemed to strike her even deeper than it did me, hints of repressed emotion bleeding over our bond.


    I suddenly felt guilty for asking. It seemed to be a far more personal question than I had expected, like tearing at a scab before it had fully healed. Lady Dawn and I, while I liked to think we were allies, still kept a certain distance. And my question bridged that gap. I opened my mouth to retract my question.


    ¡°Asura live a long, long time,¡± Lady Dawn said, her voice softer than I was used to. ¡°We don¡¯t even know how long our natural lifespans are, especially phoenixes. I lived for thousands and thousands of years. I am old for an asura, Toren Daen. I am old for any form of life.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s brilliant outline seemed to dim. She was the only star silhouetted against the sky. ¡°Most of us, when it becomes too much, we simply¡­ fade. Existence grows too tiresome, the burden of opening your eyes day after day beyond daunting. Each and every step is the same as the ones you took a year ago. The same path you traveled a decade ago. And a century, and a millennium. And so we pass on our Wills, and then drift away. It is an end to monotony and endless repetition. The final chord in a symphony of pointlessness.¡± The asura tilted her head. Her hair rustled in the breeze, covering part of her face. ¡°But over the many millennia, we have found a way to combat this gradual exhaustion. We focus our minds on a single concept; an idea to Anchor ourselves. It has its own downsides, but we live.¡±


    I listened intently; this bit of information was new to me. The Beginning After the End never spoke of the intricacies and the sorrowful end these gods-in-flesh experienced.


    ¡°The djinn¡­ They were much the same. Not in lifespan, or in the weariness of existence. No, the djinn were as short-lived as any man. But a djinn would dedicate their entire life to discovering insight around specific doctrines and studies. They could change it whenever they willed, but it was rare.¡±


    ¡°And was your focus the stars?¡± I asked as silence overtook us.


    ¡°No,¡± the asura said, a slight smile pulling at the edges of her lips. ¡°No, my husband loved the stars. They were his passion and his joy. He wanted to visit them one day. He promised me he would find a way to brave the vacuum of space, taking me with him. We would see the Dawn from up close.¡±


    I knew from the melancholic emotion that threaded over our bond that she had never been able to see the sun as her husband had promised.


    ¡°In my¡­ previous life,¡± I said, speaking up, ¡°Our greatest scientists wanted to reach the stars. We sent men to our moon, landing them there and planting a flag of our country. We had all sorts of dreams ourselves of visiting distant galaxies, spreading our influence across the universe.¡± I ran my tongue over my lips. ¡°I wonder if there is a universe out there where man reached the stars. The physicists of my previous life¨Cpeople far smarter than me¨Ccame up with a dozen dimensional theories. It could be possible that there¡¯s a world out there that could bring you to the sun.¡±


    ¡°I do not know if there is,¡± Lady Dawn replied. I rarely ever heard the asura admitting to ignorance. ¡°But your words prove something, Toren Daen. Your kind does not recognize what their limited lifespans drive them to do. You change and you advance and you improve at a pace far beyond what should be possible. We asura? We willingly lock ourselves in place, preventing any change or growth. It was my husband who showed me the true tragedy of our civilization; one I had once thought to be grand.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to say to that. The silence lingered for a while as the asura wallowed in what felt like lingering grief.


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    I didn¡¯t like seeing Lady Dawn so downtrodden. Her will was iron, an indomitable force that pushed me on whenever I felt like giving up. In the Clarwood Forest, it was she who pushed me to train to such heights; she drove me to be better. My image of the phoenix clashed with this grieving woman.


    ¡°Has any asura ever gone to the moon?¡± I asked, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°There¡¯s got to be one who tried.¡±


    The asura looked over at me, no doubt sensing my obvious attempt to bring some levity to the conversation.


    She indulged me. ¡°I believe there was a young leviathan long ago who tried to fly to the moon.¡± She shook her head. ¡°He did not return, so whether he reached his destination or not is unknown.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Was he properly equipped for it, or did he just try and fly into space?¡± I thought, a little dumbfounded.


    The phoenix shrugged. ¡°Truly, I do not know. The tale is used to frighten our young and prevent reckless actions. I believe it has a different telling in leviathan culture. The water dwellers are¡­ strange.¡±


    I raised a single brow. ¡°Strange? And you aren¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°Strangeness is relative, Contractor,¡± she said, a hint of annoyance in her otherwise placid tone. ¡°I may be strange to you, but those who love the sea and reject the sky¡­ They are alien to my race. Perhaps as much as the basilisks, who value decay and withering over life and growth.¡±


    I thought about her words for a minute. I didn¡¯t think the sea and sky were enemies. ¡°At least in my understanding, the sea and the sky are not directly opposed. It takes both a sky and an ocean to make a hurricane, after all.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, Contractor. But in the same way the storm pulls the water from the ocean, so too do phoenixes and leviathans work in unison on Epheotus. That does not mean we understand each other.¡±


    I drummed my fingers on the little metal box, scanning the night sky. The sands shifted from afar, silhouettes of buried aether beasts rising to the surface and prowling about. Now that the air was cool and temperate, creatures that hid from the scorching heat rose through the sand like steam through the air. I saw skittering outlines roving over the sands, my enhanced ears picking out their soft chitters. Our tents were far enough away that none had approached us yet, however.


    ¡°If you think about it, death and life aren¡¯t exactly enemies, either,¡± I said, feeling philosophical. ¡°They¡¯re a cycle: an animal dies, then the fungus under its feet breaks its body down into nutrients for the plants in the earth. An animal eats those plants to grow, continuing the circle.¡±


    ¡°And yet, unlike the sea and storm, life seeks desperately to avoid death. At the same time, death hounds the steps of everything living. Even if they form a cycle, it is not one of understanding, but brutal necessity,¡± the phoenix countered.


    I watched as a small lizard-like creature surfaced near one of the tents. It wasn¡¯t any larger than the fingers on my hands, and I had to suppress my knee-jerk reaction to kill it.


    Though it seemed my words had done something to ease the asura¡¯s mind. Our chat continued with more mundane topics for the next couple of hours, some of Lady Dawn¡¯s sorrow melting away.


    I felt a great deal of my own tension vanish as well. It might have been too early to tell, but it seemed that the Relictombs weren¡¯t responding negatively to my presence. Darrin, Jared, and Alandra didn¡¯t think anything was out of place, and so far we¡¯d been able to progress without too much difficulty.


    Lady Dawn vanished abruptly, as I sensed a presence approaching.


    Darrin was yawning into his hand. ¡°My turn to take watch, Toren. Get some sleep.¡±


    I nodded, standing up from the small metal box. My legs had fallen asleep at some point, and I had to work out the tingling in them.


    I didn¡¯t even realize how tired I was. After I tucked myself into the bedroll in my tent and laid my head on the makeshift pillow, I was asleep in moments.


    ¡ª


    I was pulled out of my sleep by a familiar sensation. The hairs on my arms stood on end, my senses alerting me to danger. This was something I was unfortunately familiar with from my long time in the Clarwood Forest.


    We had been surrounded.


    I pulled myself out of my tent, my hands tightly holding Oath and Promise. It was still nighttime outside, the deep darkness masking my view of the distant sands. It was Alandra who was on watch right now, and from how she was walking, it seemed she felt the disturbance too.


    She was busy poking at Jared¡¯s tent, whispering harshly for him to wake up.


    I turned. Darrin was right outside my tent, seemingly about to try and wake me up. Had he sensed it, too?


    ¡°What are we facing?¡± I said, deliberately lowering my voice.


    If Darrin was surprised by my alertness, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°We don¡¯t know exactly. Something¡¯s been circling us for a few minutes, disturbing the sand around. It¡¯s drawing nearby critters here, too.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cautious, then,¡± I said, considering our options as Jared finally pulled himself to his feet with a grumble. ¡°Do you think we can expect more intelligence from it?¡± I asked, remembering the coordination of drift apes in the Clarwood Forest. Darrin had impressed upon me that the beasts in the Relictombs would not stop until we were dead, but that didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t be crafty about it.


    ¡°Expect it to plan,¡± Darrin said, tracing a faint impression in the ground. He had his gauntlets on, and his piercing green eyes seemed to take in everything at once. ¡°It¡¯s burrowing underground.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, but a slight rumbling under my feet made me snap to awareness. I jumped with a pulse of telekinesis, blasting away just in time to avoid a gnashing set of pincers.


    A giant worm spewed out of the ground like a twisted root, sending our camp equipment flying over the dunes. Darrin was sent tumbling as he was clipped by the beast¡¯s leathery hide, his mana barrier flashing as he flew.


    The beast was easily twenty feet long, with thin black spines wrapping it in a horrid cloak. The rest of its hide had intermittent sandstone plates, protecting the softer skin underneath. It had no eyes, only a circular mouth with rows upon rows of serrated teeth.


    The beast screeched.


    Alandra cried out, moving back and waving her wand. A stream of fire jumped from the tip, splashing against its armored hide ineffectively. It whirled on her, trying to use its long, spiny trunk of a body to smash her into the sand.


    Jared was in front of her before the beast could even reach halfway. He had a large metal shield hoisted in front of him, his warhammer held loosely in his other hand.


    The body impacted Jared¡¯s shield like the sound of a hammer striking a gong. Jared¡¯s feet dug into the sand, sinking up to his shins, but neither he nor his spell broke.


    ¡°Come on, ya beast!¡± He snarled. ¡°Is that the best you can do?¡±


    I threw Promise, latching onto it with telekinesis. The dagger accelerated as I directed it, guiding the small blade to make cuts in between the interlocking plates of sandstone.


    The beast reared back, searching in vain for the source of the attack. My dagger zipped around like an annoying fly, darting in and out faster than the worm could react.


    A burst of wind cratered some of the stone on the worm¡¯s hide, causing a spray of dark red blood to spew around the crunched stone.


    The beast finally found a target in Darrin Ordin. The man was bouncing on his feet a few meters away, his hands in a boxer¡¯s stance. ¡°Come on, worm!¡± he taunted, throwing a hook into the air as if he was shadowboxing. Out of nowhere, another burst of wind exploded against the beast¡¯s damaged side. ¡°I think I look more tasty than they do!¡±


    It pulled itself out of the sand, lurching toward Darrin. ¡°Jared!¡± he called out as he leaped away from the frenzied attack, coasting on the sand. ¡°Watch out for Alandra!¡±


    ¡°Got it, you prick!¡± Jared called back, keeping his shield hovering protectively over the auburn-haired sentry.


    I burst after the trailing worm, my dagger scoring tiny papercuts in its skin as it zipped around. I concentrated mana through my saber, causing it to hum. The red-layered steel reassured me of my purpose as I brought it across the leathery hide.


    My blade parted skin, flesh, and whatever this aether beast had that counted as muscle. It cried aloud as the deep gash wept dark blood, refusing to turn away from Darrin.


    Instead, the spines all around its hide began to quiver. I barely had time to react as they shot out in a spray of death.


    I deflected a few with my blade, using a concentrated push of telekinesis in front of me to send a dozen more off course. A few made it through, however, striking my telekinetic barrier and making minuscule crystalline cracks spread over where I¡¯d been hit.


    I grit my teeth as I was thrown back slightly from the force. Alright, then.


    Darrin continued to harry the large worm, causing a dozen wounds to open over its body, but it barely slowed down. Despite bleeding all over, it continued to writhe toward the ascender with grim determination, screeching all the way.


    I stepped back, sheathing both Oath and Promise. I concentrated on one of my oldest template spells, pushing it to its limits. Sound hummed around my fist, humming as it coalesced into a shroud. If cutting wouldn¡¯t work, I¡¯d use Darrin¡¯s method: brute force.


    I dashed toward the aether beast, my mana thrumming around my clenched fist. My leather gloves creaked as I reared back, then slammed my fist into the mana beast¡¯s side. My spell released on impact, rippling through the fleshy creature.


    That was no simple blow. My strength, amplified by both the mana thrumming through my body and my telekinetic shroud, forcefully dispersed the effects of my sound spell through my target.


    The entire length of the creature shuddered from the impact, a dull screech echoing out of its mouth. Dark red blood sprayed from every wound it had, and then it weakly turned toward me.


    Darrin was faster, using the distraction I¡¯d given him to build up a stronger spell. He slammed his gauntlets together with a crash, dual bursts of wind crushing the worm¡¯s head from two sides. The head compressed with a spray of viscera, showering upward in a spatter of red.


    The worm stilled immediately, its screeches dying out.


    So I wasn¡¯t the only mage who had a bad habit of crushing beasts¡¯ skulls. That was good to know.


    But the sounds of battle didn¡¯t relent. Behind me, Alandra and Jared were fending off a wave of aetheric insects, and the tide didn¡¯t look like it would relent any time soon.

 Chapter 57: Sifting Sands

    Toren Daen


    Darrin and I rushed back to our party, our steps only a few amidst the endless stamps of the aether beasts. I withdrew Oath and Promise once again, then threw my dagger with all my might at one of the chittering creatures.


    The dagger cut a flying scarab beetle in half, then lurched midair to sever another insect¡¯s wings.


    A small swarm of scarab beetles, each at least two feet long, buzzed around Jared¡¯s shield. Every now and then, a stream of fire exited the cover, burning several scarabs and dropping them. They fell, their exoskeletons smoking.


    I was reminded of a chittering dome of legs and wings and carapace, making me stutter in my step. Darrin wasn¡¯t so daunted, running forward and throwing punches so fast I nearly couldn¡¯t see them. Bursts of wind erupted from every direction, taking a scarab with every strike.


    I¡¯m not as weak as I was then, I chided myself, drawing my fingers over Oath. The edge turned a light red, my fire spell making the edge sear. Then I rushed forward with a cry, hurling a fireball as an opening salvo.


    It scorched a few of the rampant insects, diverting their focus from solely Alandra and Jared. I met them with my blade, using it as an extension of my arm.


    Oath reaped vengeance on every insectoid body it neared, cutting through their carapace without resistance and leaving behind two smoking halves. I sidestepped a lunging bite from one of the bugs, bringing my saber down as I moved. The bug was bisected neatly, immediately cutting out its skittering calls.


    Another scarab beetle tried to latch onto me from behind, but Promise was still zipping about in the air. My dagger whizzed past my ear, severing the beetle¡¯s wings before it could reach me. It tumbled into the sand, all six legs kicking.


    I brought my boot down on its shell, the squelch of flesh grounding me.


    With more targets to focus on, the small swarm became less concentrated, allowing Jared to act from behind his shield. His warhammer was the judge, jury, and executioner of any aether beast that got too close, swatting anything within three feet of him out of the sky. Alandra periodically sent out streams of flame, scorching any beasts that got past the shield¡¯s defenses.


    A few mandibles latched onto my arms, sending me slightly off balance. The simple break they caused in my rhythm allowed me to be swarmed, scarabs latching on and slowing me down. Their bites made my telekinetic shroud creak, so many at once quickly siphoning my mana.


    Gritting my teeth, I pushed out with an unfocused wave of force. My telekinetic shroud dampened the pushback, allowing me to breathe. The beasts were flung off of me, and the zipping form of Promise returned to cut their lives short.


    I grabbed an aether beast as it tried to rush Darrin¡¯s unprotected back, my fingers crunching into its carapace. I cut it in half with Oath, then threw the top half to the ground.


    The sand had quickly become soaked with bug innards, tainting the grains a nauseating yellow-green. The swarm was quickly being worn down by our joint efforts, our blades, hammers, and spells extracting a deadly toll.


    When the battle finally ended, I was sweating heavily. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and the heat was beginning to burn. We¡¯d fought for nearly an hour straight, slowly whittling down every aether beast that came our way.


    Darrin had a few cuts on his arms that barely leaked blood, but he was the worst off of us all. While most of us were feeling exhausted, there weren¡¯t any major injuries.


    Jared spat on the corpse of one of the scarabs he¡¯d squashed with his hammer. ¡°Stupid buggers,¡± he said, resting his weapon on his shoulder.


    ¡°Anyone badly hurt?¡± Darrin called out. He was stomping on any scarabs that were still moving, finishing them off before they had a chance to bite us in the ass.


    ¡°Just my sleep schedule,¡± Jared said, glaring at the scarabs again. ¡°I¡¯ll never get a full eight hours with these bastards buzzing around.¡±


    Darrin picked up one of the tents from where it was blown away, stashing it in his dimension ring. ¡°We¡¯ll have to get moving. The daytime will be the only time when we can actually make progress.¡±


    Alandra groaned. ¡°I¡¯m going to have sand in all my robes,¡± she said.


    ¡°Told you,¡± Jared said, sounding immensely pleased with himself. ¡°And you didn¡¯t believe me!¡±


    I helped gather the rest of our equipment as Alandra and Jared went back to squabbling.


    ¡°You did well for your first big battle during an ascent, Toren,¡± Darrin said as I delivered the tents to him. He drew them into his dimension ring. ¡°How are you holding up? Got enough mana to continue?¡±


    I did an internal check of my mana reserves, sitting at a healthy forty percent. It was already refilling quickly. ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± I said, nodding. ¡°This isn¡¯t the first time I¡¯ve fought a swarm like that. This was actually easier. They weren¡¯t coordinated by a hivemind,¡± I said, flashing back to that hellish dome.


    Darrin Ordin raised an eyebrow. ¡°That does sound hellish. Think you can walk for another ten hours?¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Yeah.¡± I would absolutely hate it, but it wasn¡¯t like I had another choice.


    Darrin gave me a jaunty grin. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡±


    ¡ª


    I sank my saber up to its swept hilt in the body of the welldraw kantamid, keeping my grip steady on the hilt. It struggled for a moment as I withdrew my blade, but Darrin¡¯s wind punch made it finally go still. I stood up from where I knelt on the wide thorax of the dead aether beast, my clothes soaked through with sweat.


    I jumped off the giant beast, my feet¨Cwhich had begun to blister after the long hours of walking¨Ckicking up a small wave of sand.


    ¡°That¡¯s the third one we¡¯ve found,¡± I said. The rays of the sun beat down on us from on high, making it difficult to think. Each of these kantamids usually had a bit of hoarded loot taken from ascenders who had fallen to it, as well as miscellaneous gems and artifacts.


    Once he was sure that the beast was dead, Darrin turned back to Alandra, who had watched the battle with Jared from the edge of the trap. ¡°How close are we now to the exit portal?¡±


    Alandra was suffering the most from the heat, unable to strengthen her body with mana. As we trudged on for the past day, Jared had taken extra precautions to shelter us from the sun. I found myself wishing I had a water affinity so I could simply dunk myself in a pool. I felt certain any body part of mine that touched water would steam.


    Alandra dried the sweat on her brow with part of her mage¡¯s robes. She¡¯d taken off the robes to cope with the sweltering sun, revealing tight-fitting clothes underneath. I¡¯d wanted to simply take off my shirt, but Alandra had warned me that I could get a severe sunburn if I removed every layer blocking me from the sun. So I had to suffer through my soggy white shirt anyway. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Alandra said, her fire compass shimmering in the heat. ¡°Maybe an hour more of walking at this rate,¡± she said. ¡°Thank the Vritra.¡±


    Jared peeled back his eyepatch. I couldn¡¯t see what was beneath it, but when he shook his head, grains of sand fell from where his eye would¡¯ve been. ¡°Hate the sand,¡± he grumbled for the thousandth time.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s get going,¡± Darrin said, going under the searing hot metal plate Jared held over us. We had used it to cook our food earlier, so I knew it had grown to insane temperatures.


    I forced my thoughts past the misery of trudging through the sand with my boots squelching and my gloves sticking to my palms. In fact, I preferred this over what might have been. If the Relictombs had taken Lady Dawn¡¯s djinnic heritage into account, we could be walking through an actual volcano instead of a desert.


    It didn¡¯t seem to me like the Relictombs were ramping to meet my strength or treating me in any way unnaturally. That made it easier to fight through the haze and heat.


    Sure enough, as we continued to walk, I finally spotted a difference in the unending sea of sand. I small protrusion peered from the dunes. As we got closer, I could make it out better: a cave formed in the dunes, sandstone walls slightly darker than their surroundings. The yawning opening was wide, seeming to beckon us forward. The inside was incredibly dark, making me pause as we approached.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°It¡¯s in there,¡± Alandra said, dismissing the spell she¡¯s just conjured.


    Darrin looked at the cave for a moment. ¡°We stick together going in there. We don¡¯t know if this zone will have a boss monster or not, but if it does, chances are it¡¯s in that cave.¡±


    We all agreed fervently, then slowly walked toward the cave. I felt my nerves begin to build again. This was it. Once I was through here, I only needed to go through a descension portal.


    The cave stretched open invitingly, tempting us with the dark depths. Our steps became more sure as we entered, even though the utter silence and pitch darkness of the cave was a looming jaw seeking to swallow us whole.


    If I wasn¡¯t so caked in sweat, I was sure the hairs of my arms would stand on end.


    Stepping into the cave was an immediate relief from the sun. The temperature dropped considerably: it was still sweltering, but I didn¡¯t think I would melt from simply taking a step.


    The walls of the cavern were smooth, and a tunnel led deeper in. Darrin took us onward slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for threats. Nothing popped out at us.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing here,¡± Alandra whispered, peering around with wide eyes. ¡°It¡¯s so much cooler than outside. You¡¯d think there would be beasts in here, sheltering from the sun.¡±


    I spoke before the thought was fully formed. ¡°The fact that there aren¡¯t means that the beasts outside,¡± I said, looking over my shoulder to the slowly receding light, ¡°Fear whatever¡¯s in here more than the sun.¡±


    Alandra¡¯s eyes hardened, while the set of Darrin¡¯s jaw told me he agreed with my conjecture. Something was in this cave.


    The cavern of sandstone continued on a general downward slope for a few minutes. I actively suppressed the echo of our boots on stone, earning a curious look from the Unblooded party. I shrugged at Darrin¡¯s raised brow.


    Finally, the slope evened out. I could see a faint purple glow streaming through the opening, making me pick up my pace. The tunnel opened into a wide cavern, the ceiling several stories above us. The walls were of jagged stone, the divots casting purple shadows from the light of the portal.


    The portal was at the far end of the cavern, the runic arch so close yet so far. Jared took the lead, keeping his shield in front of us. My eyes darted over the cavern, searching for movement. I strained my ears, listening for the slightest hint of movement.


    And I heard it. The subtle clicking of carapace on stone, the whoosh of wind as something big moved¡­


    ¡°Above us!¡± I yelled, drawing Oath and Promise quickly. Just in time, Jared pivoted his spell above us as something large and dark whipped toward us.


    It slammed into his shield, punching a hole straight through the thick metal. The attack barely missed Jared¡¯s head, something glistening on the end.


    A stinger, I realized as I conjured a spell. The only light available was from the portal, leaving us in mostly darkness. I tossed my hand up, a dozen will-o¡¯-wisps of fire flying into the air, casting warm light all over the cavern.


    I got a look at what tried to attack us in an instant. A huge, armored tank of a scorpion watched us with beady eyes, its deathly sharp stinger embedded in Jared¡¯s shield spell and barely missing his head. Thin spikes of dark chitin sprouted from its joints, but they weren¡¯t nearly as sharp as the spears the scorpion had for legs. They stamped on the ground incessantly, the armor shimmering with a light purple glow.


    But where were the claws¨C


    Sensing something approaching from the side, I whirled at speed, bringing my dual blades in front of me in a cross pattern.


    The scorpion¡¯s pincer slammed into my steel with a screech of metal. It must have been planning to snatch me, but the scrape of steel sent me hurtling to the side.


    Slightly dazed from the impact, I quickly twisted in midair, the soles of my boots slamming into the wall. I fell to the ground, landing with my feet under me. Unfortunately, my lighting spell gave me a perfect view of what had happened after I was flung away.


    The other claw had tried to grab Jared, but Darrin had barely gotten in its way. He held each side of the claw with his gauntleted hands, trying to keep it away from his shield with his strength. Alandra was aiming her wand at the creature¡¯s head.


    She yelled a battlecry as a torrent of fire left her wand, washing over the creature¡¯s eyes. It scuttled back, wrenching its stinger free from Jared¡¯s shield. It screeched; a horrendous sound like nails on a chalkboard.


    ¡°Aim for its eyes!¡± Darrin called aloud, catching onto Alandra¡¯s tactic. His hands were finally free now that the monster had retreated. He fell into his boxer¡¯s stance, throwing a few jabs and hooks.


    The scorpion tried to flank Darrin, the blows of wind smacking into its shell. Unfortunately, his spells only dented the purple sheen coating the beast.


    An aether shroud, I recognized. We¡¯d have to somehow get through that if we wanted to kill it.


    I threw Promise, sending the dagger in an arc. I leveraged my telekinesis emblem, making the blade glow white. I sent it toward the beast, trying to cut at its eyes.


    My dagger darted in and out like an annoying fly, harrying the scorpion one way as Alandra¡¯s fire streams pushed it another.


    I launched myself forward, brandishing my saber like a scythe. It hummed with sound mana, the blade vibrating at absurd frequencies. One of the scorpion¡¯s legs nearly skewered me, but I sidestepped, bringing the humming blade in a sideways crescent.


    My spell-wrapped saber sheared through part of the scorpion¡¯s thin aether barrier, cutting a light furrow in its exoskeleton. It didn¡¯t go all the way through, however. The creature¡¯s natural armor protected it further.


    The scorpion spun, trying to trample me under its stomping feet. I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding being backhanded by a claw.


    Backclawed?


    I danced back to Darrin¡¯s position. ¡°Do you have a plan to deal with this thing beyond ¡®hit it really hard?¡¯¡± I asked, feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins. It was a distinct feeling: the twitchy, hyper-alert buzz as my senses became even more focused was impossible to ignore.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been able to keep it occupied with Alandra¡¯s fire blasts and your nifty little dagger, but that won¡¯t keep it long. Soon, it¡¯ll wise up to our tactics and try and overwhelm us,¡± Darrin said, sporting a breezy grin. ¡°So, are you up for making more of that fireshot?¡±


    I blinked. Fireshot was actually a better name for the spell than I¡¯d thought of. ¡°I can do that,¡± I said.


    Darrin nodded. ¡°Keep that bastard occupied. I¡¯ve got a spell that might break that exoskeleton.¡±


    Darrin sat back, focusing on a spellform. I ran forward, concentrating beads of solid fire in my hands¨CI was going to call it fireshot now¨Cand throwing them with bursts of telekinesis.


    They became streaks of orange light as they peppered the scorpion¡¯s body, singing small dots into its aetheric barrier. But it only left faint scorch marks on the exoskeleton, the thick armor shrugging off my blows like they were nothing.


    But it certainly got the beast¡¯s attention. The giant scorpion pivoted, something that shouldn¡¯t have been so fast, before lunging at me. I barely deflected the tip of the stinger, the act sending a shudder through my telekinetic barrier. I backflipped to avoid a hooking pincer, simultaneously pushing against the beast in front of me. Its beady eyes seemed to watch me with hatred as I avoided the strike.


    That sent me rocketing toward the ceiling but also caused the scorpion to stumble a step. I landed on the roof, using my emblem to lash the soles of my boots to the rock.


    Nearby, Darrin seemed utterly fixated on his spell. Mana whipped and swirled around him as his power grew, a look of extreme focus on his face. The scorpion sensed the buildup of mana, trying to scuttle toward the static ascender.


    Jared¡¯s shield met it midway, slamming his giant shield down like a gate in front of its path. ¡°Try me again, you beast!¡± he cried, his single eye alight with fervor. His hammer batted aside a deadly sharp leg, the limb whipping to the side from the force. Unfortunately, the scorpion was undeterred, trying to strike him with its tail.


    Promise returned to my waiting hand as I hung from the ceiling. I cocked my arm back, squinting one eye and imbuing a decent chunk of my mana into a telekinetic push.


    Then I threw my weapon.


    Earlier, the scorpion had begun to ignore my dagger¡¯s darting movements and Alandra¡¯s spurts of fire, instead trying to deal with the immediate threats. Now, it would never ignore a dagger again in its life. My knife shot forward like a missile, seeking flesh. The single-edged dagger embedded itself to the hilt in the scorpion¡¯s eyes right before it could flick its tail toward Jared, causing it to screech as purplish blood oozed from its face.


    The exoskeleton may have been sturdier than stone, but its eyes were as soft as any monster¡¯s.


    The beast stumbled sideways on all eight legs, clawing at its eyes with its oversized pincers. Its agonized screeches made dust tumble from the ceiling, its feverish stamping limbs causing the stone underneath to tremble.


    Darrin didn¡¯t let the opening go. He roared, his green eyes burning with adrenaline. His gauntleted fist was alight with green mana, a ripping vortex barely contained by his gauntlets. He wound up, twisting his hips in a display of physical power as he sent out a picture-perfect right cross.


    ¡°Martial Gale!¡± he cried out, accentuating the spell with his words.


    This blow wasn¡¯t like his omnidirectional wind blasts. No, this was a simple straight. Except a veritable torrent of power followed the path of his punch, howling toward the dazed aether beast. The shot of wind carved a furrow in the sandstone as it moved nearly too fast to see.


    The spell cracked against the scorpion¡¯s aether shroud, breaking through with barely any resistance. The beast¡¯s noises were drowned out by the crunch of carapace fracturing under Darrin¡¯s spell, sending the massive arachnid skidding back over the smooth stone floor. Dust was kicked up in a cloud as it tumbled into a heap, obscuring our vision for a moment.


    The leader of the Unblooded party was panting heavily, the sweat on his brow not just from the heat. His shoulders slumped slightly as his spell connected, but he quickly forced himself to adjust his stance. His eyes were tired, but they still failed to miss anything.


    I let my adhesion to the ceiling loosen, allowing myself to fall. I landed feet-first on the ground near the ascender, earning a looser version of his usual impish smile.


    ¡°Think it''s dead?¡± I asked conversationally.


    Darrin groaned. ¡°Never say that, Toren. Now I¡¯m sure it survived.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense!¡± Alandra chirped from the side, miming a cross punch like Darrin had done. ¡°Barely anything lives through Darrin¡¯s punches.¡±


    Darrin ran a hand over his face as Jared positioned himself in front of us, ready to put a shield of conjured metal between us and the dust cloud containing the best.


    ¡°You jinxed it,¡± Darrin said with a note of resignation, just in time for the dust cloud to disperse outward in a wave of force.

 Chapter 58: Completion

    Toren Daen


    Jared conjured a shield in front of us, planting his feet to resist the outpour of power. The dark plates of metal rose in an interlocking weave, sheltering us from the wave.


    The pressure stopped momentarily, and I felt myself blanch when I looked at the scorpion. It was leaking bodily fluids from cracks in its carapace, Darrin¡¯s blow having shattered several of the plates. Where its eyes used to be was a bloody mess, the hilt of my dagger protruding from its face with a gleam of silver. It was undergoing some sort of change, its dark armor beginning to drip like ink on a page as it streamed along the scorpion¡¯s body, slowly leaking toward its stinger.


    It didn¡¯t move, staying huddled on the far side of the cave. The room seemed to hold its breath as man and monster braced.


    And then parts of the armor reforged around the tail, the long appendage beginning to glow darkly. A small, thin spine of carapace began to solidify on the end of the stinger.


    I felt dread as I watched the inky armor cement itself once more, a foreboding sense telling me exactly what would happen next. The sharp end pointed at us, after all.


    I stepped forward and threw both my hands out, sending out a telekinetic push with a diameter as wide as I could manage. An area in front of Jared¡¯s shield glowed white with power, a visible effect of my spellform.


    The darts of the re-solidified carapace streamed toward us like a hive of hornets seeking retribution straight from the scorpion¡¯s poised stinger. I held my telekinetic force as the swarm of needles approached, a second layer of defense in front of Jared¡¯s stalwart shield.


    I could feel the momentum in each tiny spike. Instead of pushing me back, I dispersed the aftereffects with my telekinesis shroud, keeping myself firmly anchored to the ground. As the black shards hit my makeshift barrier, my constant pushing force diverted many off course. Some swerved erratically upward at their change in momentum, punching holes into the ceiling. More were deflected on either side, my spell like a rock in the midst of a raging current.


    But those that were aimed straight enough blazed right through my makeshift defense, swimming through the force like a fish in a river. They pierced through Jared¡¯s barrier with the sound of shearing metal. A few pencil-sized shards embedded themselves into Jared¡¯s pauldrons, causing him to grunt in pain. One of the carapace slivers pinged off my telekinetic shroud, cracking it and spinning away. Then another punched through that crack, the pain making my spell falter for a moment.


    Alandra and Darrin ducked as more shearing carapace shards blew past Jared¡¯s barrier. He reformed it as fast as he could, summoning more interlocking plates to replace those destroyed, but it wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hold it long!¡± Jared cried, a dark sliver glancing off his metal armor. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get it to stop!¡±


    I grit my teeth as a thin spike cut a line of red on my cheek. The slice stung, making my eyes narrow. I spared a quick glance behind me. Alandra¡¯s breathing was heavy, but she wasn¡¯t outright panicking. Darrin seemed to be considering jumping around the stream, but I knew that would only get him peppered like a pincushion.


    I felt my mana wavering. Though I had gotten far more proficient at maintaining a telekinetic push, I was forcibly stretching the surface area and holding the effect. I was losing my reserves at an accelerated pace.


    My mind was almost entirely occupied with maintaining my spell. As each black blur sped through my shield, I felt my telekinetic shroud weakening slightly. It dispersed the effects of pushback at the price of its own durability.


    I cast my eyes about another option, searching frantically for a way out of this. Darrin¡¯s spells didn¡¯t have enough range to reach the scorpion. Alandra¡¯s weren¡¯t powerful enough. Maybe I could get a fireshot off, interrupt its concentration-


    A speck of silver amidst the dark caught my eye, the flash of my bright white mana causing it to stand out even more. The small sigil of Blood Daen gleamed on the pommel of Promise, still embedded in the creature¡¯s eyes. A plan began to form in my head, gears turning as ideas churned.


    ¡°Jared!¡± I called, trying to be heard over the endless pings of metal shards into stone. ¡°I need your hammer!¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± he yelled, his one eye staring at me wildly.


    I didn¡¯t really have time to ask. I grabbed onto the warhammer in Jared¡¯s grip with my telekinetic control, ripping it out of his hands and sending it arcing over our heads. The hammer flew over the parting wave, streaking toward the scorpion in a flash of light.


    I mentally brought the hammer down on that small dot of silver, hoping against hope my plan would work.


    The constant barrage of spines stuttered, granting me a brief reprieve. I slammed the hammer down once more, this time hearing the echoing gong with my enhanced ears.


    Again and again, I brought the hammer down. I couldn¡¯t even see past Jared¡¯s barrier, but I could hear the head of the hammer driving my dagger deeper into the scorpion¡¯s body.


    I cried out, sending an exceptionally powerful blow downward. From the timbre of the resonant strike, I could tell something had changed.


    The barrage stopped completely, like a water hose being suddenly turned off.


    I let my hands droop, my telekinetic barrier winking out. I sagged, the exhaustion in my body compounded by the brutal fight. I pressed the point of Oath into the stone, using the swept-hilt saber to support my burning limbs.


    Jared hesitantly lowered his metal spellform, peering with his one good eye at the remains of our foe. The body slumped on the floor; all eight legs splayed out. The scorpion was missing large sections of its plate armor, clearly having sacrificed its carapace to hit us with those spines as a last resort. Underneath was a meaty, pinkish flesh that looked disturbingly like a crab¡¯s.


    A hole had been blown through the scorpion¡¯s head, each hammer blow to the pommel having driven my dagger deeper and deeper into its cranium. Said dagger was embedded in the stone floor, having passed clean through the head.


    My control over Jared¡¯s hammer wavered as I slowly levitated it back toward him. It was splattered with a purplish goop that could only be scorpion¡¯s brain matter.


    ¡°Sorry for taking it from you,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°Had an idea.¡±


    Darrin looked at the body with a wary expression, before using his wind spell to add a few more craters to the creature¡¯s head. It didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°I¡¯m not touching that, kid,¡± Jared said, staring at the dripping hammer with obvious disgust. ¡°I will not dig my hand into scorpion brains a second time!¡±


    I turned toward him lethargically. ¡°A second time?¡± I asked, feeling incredulous. The cut on my cheek burned, and a few shards peppered my chest. With the adrenaline wearing down, I was starting to feel those wounds more acutely.


    Alandra sent a stream of fire at the corpse, clearly working off some pent-up frustration. She cackled as the meat sizzled and popped.


    I hobbled over to the body, ripping Promise from the floor. It looked none the worse for wear, despite having been used like a wedge to drive a crack through an aether beast.


    It was, unfortunately, also covered in purplish goop. I sighed. ¡°Do you all usually have to deal with cleaning scorpion brains?¡±


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    ¡°This is only the second time,¡± Alandra said with complete seriousness, brushing her auburn hair out of her face and holding up her wand. ¡°Here, I can burn it off!¡±


    I watched with begrudging respect as Alandra expertly leveled flame over both Promise and Jared¡¯s warhammer with a controlled burn. She managed to scour the excess purple substance while leaving the metal underneath relatively untouched.


    I sent tired eyes toward the scorpion¡¯s corpse as Alandra asked Jared if he¡¯d ever break his habit of dipping his weapons in scorpion brains. As their familiar squabbling began again, I set myself near the portal, picking out the spines in my chest one by one. I was lucky that they hadn¡¯t gone deep, avoiding cutting any major arteries or a lung. They bleed badly though, but a quick wrapping with bandages helped stem some of that flow.


    The area around the portal was covered in a loose layer of sand, the coarse material more comfortable than sitting on plain stone. The small hill of sand raised the portal up higher than the floor, allowing me to get a better view of the room.


    Darrin plopped himself down beside me, favoring me with a tired grin. He smiled a lot, something that wasn¡¯t uncommon from the people I interacted with. But Darrin¡¯s grins were far more genuine than Karsien¡¯s, or even my own.


    ¡°How are you enjoying your preliminary ascent?¡± he asked, taking a peek at the bandages I wrapped around my chest. ¡°You¡¯ve got some of the preparations down-pat.¡±


    There were some tears in my clothes where the spikes had pierced my body. I looked at them forlornly. ¡°How often do all of you have to replace your clothes?¡± This was my nicest outfit, after all. I had been wearing a waistcoat and plain white shirt to look presentable at the ascender¡¯s assessment but had since stashed the vest in my dimension ring to cope with the sweltering sun.


    Darrin laughed aloud. ¡°All the time, Toren! Nearly every single ascent we get something in our shirts that won¡¯t come out no matter how much you try and wash it.¡±


    Was bleach a thing in this world? Maybe I could invent some sort of cleaning agent. I was sick and tired of buying new clothes. ¡°How difficult would you say this ascent has been so far?¡± I asked, peering at the corpse of the scorpion boss. Jared was picking at some of the carapace, stashing it in his dimension ring. ¡°At least compared to most of your ascents.¡±


    Seeing my interest, Darrin spoke up. ¡°That armor was tough as a basilisk¡¯s,¡± he said. ¡°If we can get some of the remains to an artificer, it¡¯ll sell for a decent price. Somebody could make some good armor out of that.¡± He paused. ¡°This zone wasn¡¯t the worst we¡¯ve been in, but it''s been more trying than most. You¡¯re quite powerful, Toren,¡± he said, answering my question.


    I exhaled. I was second-guessing the possible effects of my presence on this zone, but each word was another confirmation that I didn¡¯t need to be so worried.


    Alandra said something, making Jared scoff. I watched them interact from afar, a weary ache settling into my bones. ¡°How long have you been a team?¡± I asked, wanting to know more about these ascenders.


    Darrin tapped his chin. ¡°Almost ten years now,¡± he said, a wistful note to his tone. ¡°Most teams end up retiring after a while of delving into the Relictombs, or split up and form new groups. The Unblooded Party is a little bit different from the norm.¡±


    I watched as Jared threw a chunk of purple scorpion goop at Alandra. She shrieked as it coated her dress, then launched at him. Jared, being a shield, was well adept at keeping the raging sentry at arm¡¯s length.


    ¡°Do they ever get tired of that?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Darrin said, drawing out the last syllable. ¡°But they¡¯re not nearly as antagonistic as you might think.¡±


    I watched as Jared tripped backward on one of the scorpion¡¯s prone legs, a clatter of metal ringing out as Alandra managed to kick him in the shin. ¡°I have a hard time believing that,¡± I said.


    Darrin snorted, running a hand through his blonde hair. ¡°You¡¯ll see, maybe.¡±


    I sent a glance toward the shimmering purple portal. ¡°When are we going to move on?¡± I asked.


    The leader of the Unblooded party followed my gaze. ¡°We¡¯ll wait for a while more to rest and recover our strength in a relatively safe area before going through the portal. It''s likely the next zone will have an exit portal, too.¡±


    After a few more minutes of resting my legs, I began to use my telekinetic emblem to yank some of the spines of carapace from the ceiling where they¡¯d impaled themselves, delivering tiny bundles of spines to Jared. The shield accepted them gratefully, adding them to our growing horde.


    At Darrin¡¯s direction, the shield raised a small barrier in front of the exit to the cavern. Now that the boss was dead, the beasts kept at bay by its presence might try and funnel down for the shade. Jared¡¯s barrier might not hold for long, but it would give us time to get through the portal if there were too many beasts.


    I ate from a small bottle of protein paste, wincing as the gelatinous mass slid down my throat.


    There has to be a way to make these taste better, I thought, restraining the urge to gag. It was like a horrid Gogurt tube, but instead of yogurt, it was Jello¡¯s estranged, meaty cousin.


    The other ascenders seemed unphased by their horrid rations, something that clearly set me apart.


    ¡°So Toren,¡± Alandra asked as she merrily slurped down the paste, ¡°Why do you want to be an ascender? Want to get rich? Maybe get a relic?¡± she inquired, raising a brow.


    I pulled the empty tube of paste into my dimension ring, glad to have it out of my sight. ¡°The Relictombs is one of the best training grounds in Alacrya,¡± I said automatically. ¡°If I want to grow powerful, these ruins are the best place to sharpen myself. The whetstone to my blade.¡±


    Jared shook his head. ¡°These zones aren¡¯t training grounds for you to get strong from,¡± he said chastisingly. ¡°They¡¯ll swallow you whole and keep the bones if you¡¯re not careful. This place is a death trap, not a jaunt through the academies.¡±


    I frowned, feeling taken aback. Though Jared was right, at least to some degree. ¡°I know that,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°But the best way to test yourself is when there is real danger. I can¡¯t get as powerful as I need to be if I¡¯m stuck in an academy.¡°


    Jared didn¡¯t look too convinced by my words.


    ¡°And why do you want power?¡± Alandra questioned, not looking at me. She seemed to be paying half attention to the conversation.


    I furrowed my brows. ¡°Well, I¡¯m the last of my Blood,¡± I said slowly. ¡°The rest of us were wiped out several decades ago. For a long time, it was only my brother and I. But we weren¡¯t¡­ we weren¡¯t powerful enough.¡±


    The implications of my words settled through the gathered ascenders. Alandra gave me a pitying look, contrasting with Darrin¡¯s cool understanding.


    I didn¡¯t want pity.


    ¡°I¡¯ve learned that if I want to have anything, I need to be powerful enough to keep it by strength of arm,¡± I said, saying the words as they formed in my mind. It was true. Rights weren¡¯t a guarantee in Alacrya: you fought and bled for your position and power. If you let yourself slip, it all crashed down to the bottom. All the men and women in East Fiachra were condemned to that life because they couldn¡¯t fight their way out. It was wrong: a barbaric, blunt sort of meritocracy. But just because I despised the system did not mean I was free of it.


    Darrin brushed off his trousers as he stood up, glancing at the shimmering portal. ¡°Well, we¡¯d better prepare to leave here soon,¡± he said. ¡°All of you, make sure your cores are at acceptable levels and that we haven¡¯t left anything behind.¡±


    I nodded, slowly pushing myself to my feet. Both Oath and Promise were strapped to my side, the weapons proving their worth with each battle. Alandra and Jared shuffled toward the portal after making sure their simulets were functioning correctly.


    I moved up next to them, staring into the purple abyss of the portal. I couldn¡¯t see what was beyond this barrier: apparently, some portals allowed you to see the other side, giving a glimpse of the next zone. Others only lent mystery, such as the one in front of us.


    I felt a lot better about the next step, now.


    As the three other ascenders began to situate their armor, however, I noticed something odd in the sand surrounding the portal. I frowned, seeing the way the light reflected off of something.


    I walked over, kneeling down and brushing away the sand. It took a second, but the item that revealed itself to me made the breath catch in my throat.


    It was a small can with familiar symbols on the front. It felt like aluminum, something that was uncommonly used in Alacrya for packaging. Bright orange and purple colors spelled out a message on the face of the can, a solid weight telling me it was full of liquid.


    Dunkin¡¯ Donuts Iced Coffee.


    That was the only legible bit of text on the can. Except the text wasn¡¯t in this world¡¯s rendition of written English: it was that of my previous life. The other graphics appeared to be warped, the ink and images bleeding strangely across each other in a confused attempt to recreate a brand. The can felt real and solid, contrasting my inner panic.


    How did this get here? I thought, spinning the can over, looking for¡­ something. I didn¡¯t know what. This shouldn¡¯t be here. It¡¯s wrong, I thought, my breathing beginning to pick up.


    Alacrya didn¡¯t have coffee, much less Dunkin¡¯ Donuts. An unnerving possibility reared in my mind.


    It seems I¡¯ve found out my influence on the Relictombs.


    I stared at the little can for what felt like an eternity, questions running rampant through my head. How was this here? Was this all that the tombs would make? What was the limit?


    ¡°Toren!¡± Darrin called from the portal. ¡°We¡¯re leaving!¡±


    I started, blinking away my confusion. I hastily stashed the coffee can into my dimension ring, feeling frazzled. As I approached the portal, I realized that I didn¡¯t know what the next zone would bring.

 Chapter 59: Anomaly

    Toren Daen


    I didn¡¯t know what to expect when I stepped through the portal. I was feeling off-kilter from the can of coffee, each step taken robotically. I tried to maintain a mask of confidence, but my thoughts were spiraling out of control.


    And so it was that when I stepped through the portal, I wasn¡¯t paying enough attention. I bumped straight into Jared¡¯s broad back, stumbling as his bulk offset mine. I shook my head, desperately pulling myself back to the present.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± I said to Jared. ¡°I wasn¡¯t paying atte¨C¡± S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jared¡¯s look of shock stripped me of that forced calm. He was staring at the zone ahead of us, his jaw slack. In fact, Alandra and Darrin were much the same.


    Why?


    I found the answer for myself a moment later. Stretching in front of us was a road, leading straight toward two portals not a hundred feet from us. Except the roads were paved in familiar asphalt, with white lines painted in the middle to delineate lanes. The asphalt road stretched beyond the portals into infinity, an expanse of rolling hills and grass as far as the eye could see. A few trees dotted the endless hills like a child adding tiny dots of trees to a painting. Unlit streetlamps loomed over empty sidewalks.


    But the true difference was along the sides of the road. Strange structures grew from the ground, blocky and misshapen things resembling buildings. They looked like someone attempted to draw houses and shops from memory, the fudged lines and blurred paint marking where their recollections failed. They looked wrong, a twisted and divergent display of architecture. Walls were too high or bent in almost cartoonish displays that defied physics.


    The colors hurt to look at: browns, yellows, purples, greens, and a dozen other horrid mixes meshing together like someone stuck them in a blender and threw the contents on every surface.


    But I stared for an entirely different reason than the ascenders. For all the strange colors, physics-defying walls, and strange roads, I could recognize parts of these buildings. It was an attempt at imitating 21st-century architecture, the wall paneling and shingled roofs familiar to my mind.


    What is happening? I thought to myself, my eyes darting across the zone. There were no monsters that I could sense. Is this some sort of illusion? A twisted reflection of my mind?


    I remembered the ruin Arthur reached where an entire illusion overlaid the djinn crystal¡¯s room, hiding the place in plain sight. Was this similar?


    ¡°Okay, keep close,¡± Darrin said, stepping forward. There was a sun in the sky, but it didn¡¯t beat down on us relentlessly as the last zone had. ¡°This zone is odd, but we haven''t been attacked yet. Keep an eye out for traps or beasts.¡±


    I swallowed, taking a shaky step forward. The group began to move down the asphalt road, Alandra sending baffled looks all around us. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a zone where there were buildings,¡± she said breathily. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them, though. They almost always have relics!¡±


    ¡°Keep together,¡± Darrin scolded as Alandra looked longingly toward one of the buildings. ¡°We¡¯ll explore these buildings one by one. The exit portal is close by, but that shouldn¡¯t let us be complacent.¡±


    The group shuffled toward the first house on the right. The similarities to the architecture of my previous life were starkly apparent, even if they looked painted on. My heart beat in my chest as the lead striker of the Unblooded party approached the door, settling a hand onto the knob. Darrin¡¯s turned the handle of the door, pushing it open.


    It was empty. The entire inside was a large open space, white walls reflecting the light perfectly. No shadows were cast from any point, adding a feeling of standing in an endless rush of white.


    It was as if once the door opened, the illusion dropped. The facade of modern buildings was only skin deep, melting away the moment you peeked under the surface.


    ¡°Nothing?!¡± Alandra cried, darting in and looking about. She crossed from one end of the room to the other, trying to see if there was some sort of hidden compartment. She cast her sentry spell, but it only pointed toward the portal outside. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns!¡± she cursed.


    Jared¡¯s hand clenched around the hammer on his belt, his one eye tracking around the room. Once Alandra came back, her shoulders slumping from the possibility of a relic becoming slimmer, we went to check the other buildings.


    Darrin himself did a circuit of the rooms, trying to see if there was some sort of hidden switch or alcove. There was nothing.


    I was increasingly on edge, the hairs on my arms standing on end. It felt like we were being watched, but nothing jumped out at us. The insides of every single house were stark white boxy spaces, empty of any rooms or decorations. There were no relics, no accolades, and seemingly no purpose at all for these rooms to exist.


    We stepped back into the street. There was no wind running through this zone. The leaves on the trees were deathly still, contributing to the overarching feeling of uneasiness coursing through this little slice of reality.


    The Relictombs were reacting to Lady Dawn¡¯s djinn blood, I was certain. But this was beyond even my expectations. I was expecting stronger monsters, amped up beyond what our party could handle. Or maybe we¡¯d be thrown into a place like the mirror room as Arthur was, except with me lacking an affinity for aether, we would all be eternally trapped.


    But instead, I was faced with a corrupt rendition of a slice of my previous life. Arthur never experienced anything like this, so why was I?


    At first, I thought frantically of how this might expose my secret, or maybe prove dangerous to the Unblooded party. But the longer I stayed in this zone, the more it forced me to think of bygone days on my computer, spending hours at a time working toward my degree. It brought to the fore my old road trips across the country with my family, whom I would never see again. This was a sideways reflection of Earth, painted through refracting mirrors a dozen times over.


    But it was still a reflection of Earth. This place may have been empty to Darrin, Jared, and Alandra, but I saw ghosts everywhere, just as distorted as the houses.


    Why is this happening? I asked the one person I could count on. Why is it showing me this?


    ¡°It is reacting to my presence,¡± Lady Dawn said slowly. ¡°But the mechanism is beyond me. It is taking things from your mind; crafting things from them,¡± she said with anger. ¡°I cannot stop it.¡±


    That¡¯s fine, I thought back tiredly. It really wasn¡¯t, but I was helpless to change it.


    Our party stepped back into the sunlight, most looking visibly dejected by the lack of relics. I turned toward the exit portal.


    ¡°I want to leave this zone,¡± I said quietly. Darrin turned around, looking at me. He must have seen something in my eyes.


    I felt small.


    ¡°Well, as far as I can tell, this zone is empty of challenges,¡± Darrin said, taking a step toward the portals. I thanked him internally, feeling too drained to do it aloud. ¡°I think we should head back to celebrate your successful prelim, ey Toren?¡±


    I nodded, an imitation of a smile stretching across my face. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯ll be good to have completed this.¡±


    Darrin looked at me with a concerned expression, but I shook my head. This wasn¡¯t something he could help with. His piercing green eyes narrowed, then he turned toward the waiting portals. One would take a person further into the Relictombs. The other would allow them to exit these pocket dimensions, winding up back in the second layer.


    I still felt like I was being watched, under the scrutiny of a persistent, unrelenting force. But it wasn¡¯t hostile; not in the way I¡¯d been watched before. Why? And could we actually exit this zone?


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    Jared clapped me on the back reassuringly as we stepped toward the exit portal. ¡°Good luck on your prelim, Toren! Shame we didn¡¯t get a relic. That would¡¯ve been a story to tell, aye? A relic on your prelim!¡±


    I moved the muscles that made me smile. ¡°Yeah, it would¡¯ve been something.¡±


    As the other ascenders stepped through the exit portal, I spared one last glance at the faux street. It was messy and strange, but there was nostalgia there. I exhaled, then turned and went through the shimmering pane of purple.


    I was immediately met with the familiar yet awe-inspiring expanse of the second layer of the Relictombs. The sudden burst of sound hit me like a wave.


    A receptionist approached, holding a clipboard. ¡°Congratulations on completing your ascent! May I have the party¡¯s registered name?¡±


    ¡°The Unblooded is our party name. Just finished helping Toren here on his prelim,¡± Darrin said, pointing a finger back at me.


    The receptionist¡¯s smile widened a bit, though I noticed her nose crinkling as we neared. We must smell ripe. ¡°Once I clear you for relics with an inquirer, you¡¯ll have this ascent verified and you can go to the Ascender¡¯s Association to get a badge for our new ascender,¡± she said, holding a strange item that looked like a pocket watch.


    Darrin nodded, allowing the woman to move the watch around him, clearly scanning for something. She kept a respectable distance, likely warded off by the smell. When nothing out of the ordinary appeared, she approached the rest of the party, using the watch on us as well.


    ¡°Alright, you¡¯re free to go!¡± The woman said, her smile just as wide. ¡°Keep earning relics and accolades for our Sovereigns!¡±


    Before I graced the Ascender¡¯s Association, the four of us went to a nearby washroom reserved exclusively for ascenders. Apparently, they had facilities designed to rinse the toughest of grime from your body, as entrails, viscera, and other disgusting things had a bad habit of getting ground into these fighters¡¯ clothes.


    The time it took to change out of my dirty clothing also allowed me to forcefully shove down my reminiscence for my previous life. I wasn¡¯t happy in this new world, but it was my new life. I would have to cope with it.


    And I have completed my first ascent, I reminded myself as I put on another shirt. I¡¯ve already taken the first step in my plans, even if it appears something¡¯s gone wrong.


    ¡°And you shall only grow stronger,¡±  Lady Dawn added mentally. She had a sense for my emotions, and while she allowed me to my nostalgia, now that some time had passed she had taken to an odd sort of comfort. I felt her reassurance over our bond.


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to get my official ascender¡¯s badge. It was a metal card with my name and birthdate on it, my mage classification, and a photo on prominent display. I thought my expression looked a little unsure in the image they had taken of me.


    Eventually, the Unblooded party would be going to one of their trusted merchants who gave them honest deals on the accolades they found in the Relictombs. Once the net sum accounted for all the treasures sold, Darrin would wire exactly a fourth of the total profit over the bank system to me.


    As part of his earliest bits of advice and practice, he¡¯d had us sign a legal contract before going on our ascent regarding the distribution of accolades among party members. The striker had repeatedly reiterated that was one of the first things I should do when finding a team. If somebody could stiff you on your fair share of the loot, the odds were that they would.


    ¡°And now we go drink!¡± Jared said aloud, pumping a fist after we were finally out. ¡°Come on, Toren, I know an amazing pub on Blossom Street you¡¯ll love. You¡¯ve got to celebrate your prelim!¡±


    I coughed, feeling myself flush slightly. Alandra looked at Jared as if he was some sort of bug on the pavement. ¡°No, you are not taking Toren to that place. We¡¯re going back to the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard. Where people are respectable.¡± She scoffed. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m surprised they even let you in there, with that mess of a beard.¡±


    I raised a hand. ¡°Do I get a say in this?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± both Jared and Alandra said at once.


    I lowered my hand.


    Though maybe getting a drink would be a good idea. It might help me loosen up a bit after the exhausting trip through the Relictombs. I had a lot of stress I was purposefully ignoring, after all, and the extra shock from the last zone still hadn¡¯t quite worn off.


    Yeah, the more I thought about it, the more a couple of drinks sounded like a good idea. I hadn¡¯t had a single drop of alcohol since coming to this world. I didn¡¯t drink much even in my previous life, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to unwind a bit.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, a bit of my normal confidence returning to my voice. ¡°What do you recommend for me to drink?¡±


    ¡ª


    We stepped into the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard not long after. Jared, Alandra, and Darrin went to the barkeeper to order me Itrian Cider. Apparently, the apple trees grown along the Silverstream River near the Truacian city had some magical properties, and the alcohol fermented from their fruit was especially potent. This was important, as mages naturally had higher toxin tolerance.


    Jared felt very strongly about how his core¨Cwithout his express approval¨Cdetermined alcohol to be a detriment to his body.


    Long story short, mages needed stronger alcohol. Especially body strengtheners, like shields and strikers.


    I made it to the table Hofal had been waiting at. The man had agreed to rent a room at the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard for when we got out of the tombs, and true to form, the man was sitting with his legs propped up, his eyes closed as he puffed on his pipe.


    ¡°Hey, Hofal,¡± I said, causing the man¡¯s eyes to open. ¡°I made it through alive.¡±


    ¡°Never had any doubt,¡± he said, peering at me.


    A loud clap from the barkeeper¡¯s direction drew the attention of the room, including Hofal and me. ¡°Attention all!¡± he called, deliberately making his voice heard by all of us. ¡°We have an ascender who just completed their prelim! And they are going to celebrate!¡±


    Jared, who was standing next to the barkeeper, had an insufferable smirk playing through his beard. Alandra looked like she had just lost a fight. Darrin winked at me.


    Uh oh.


    ¡°Come on up, Toren Daen!¡± the barkeeper called, hoisting a keg onto the counter with mana-enhanced strength. The barrel made an audible thump as it rattled the wood counter. ¡°Tonight, everyone drinks!¡± he called to the room.


    All the patrons present raised a cheer, a few patting me forward. I eyed the keg apprehensively.


    ¡°I am not sure these men have your best interests at heart, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn warned.


    I remembered my college parties. No, they certainly do not, I thought back to my bond with a slight smile. They just want the free booze.


    I could understand that.


    ¡ª


    Itrian cider was strong. After only a few pulls, I was already feeling slightly buzzed. I eased off of it considerably after that, feeling the mana in my body reacting to a perceived toxin. The cider burned when I took a small sip from the mug, but instead of a deeper draw, I savored the warmth as it trailed down my throat.


    ¡°Did you drink often in your past life?¡± Lady Dawn asked over our bond. I was sitting at the bar as the keg was passed around, filling the cups of all the patrons. Even the lute player got a glass, which I knew was going to impact his playing.


    The phoenix felt discomforted by the consumption of alcohol. It was something I had an easier time picking up on over our bond for some reason, a kind of intention drifting over it that was simple to decipher.


    Not really, I thought back. I was feeling a bit tipsy, the pleasant buzz working through my bloodstream. Only once a month or so, and nothing this strong, I said honestly. As my enhanced metabolism worked through the alcohol, I found that I went through the stages of intoxication faster. Now, I was feeling contemplative. I don¡¯t like relying on substances, but I can see this one¡¯s advantage.


    My shoulders felt looser than they had been when I first came in here. A bit of the stress bled away as the buzz dispersed it. Do you want me to not do this again?


    ¡°You are the master of your own self,¡± Lady Dawn started. ¡°But¡­ it discomforts me to know you may be caught unawares. Under the effects of these drinks, your reactions slow down. Your ability to perceive threats narrows immensely. And as my own senses are only an extension of yours, my ability to protect you is impeded as well.¡±


    I swirled the cider in my mug. Around me, the men were starting to congregate and challenge each other to drinking games. I saw a man chugging his entire cup straight from the mug, before passing out nearly immediately as his head hit the hardwood table.


    But he had completed whatever challenge they¡¯d set forth. The patrons cheered, heaving a small pouch of coins right on top of the snoring man¡¯s head.


    I was going to steer clear of that.


    I rarely ever drink, I said, trying to reassure my bond. You don¡¯t need to worry about this much.


    I could sense that my words didn¡¯t do much to quiet the phoenix¡¯s discomfort. I was about to try something else when a stranger sat near me at the bar, watching the barkeep circling around with the large keg of ale. The newcomer had no drink in his hands.


    He turned an eye to me. Where Darrin¡¯s eyes were closer to forest green in color, this man¡¯s were a light teal. His hair looked like it was bleached of color, instead taking on a shade of white that almost seemed to glow. He had a goatee of a matching shade which looked like it hadn¡¯t been trimmed for a couple of days. The stranger''s eyes were shadowed, but they watched me with an eerie intensity.

 Chapter 60: A Teal Cloak

    Toren Daen


    ¡°I hear you¡¯re the new ascender on the block,¡± the stranger said as a greeting. ¡°I remember my prelim. Did you run into any snags?¡± he asked, sending a knowing look toward the bandages around my chest.


    I felt the fantom pinpricks of the carapace shards digging into my chest.


    ¡°I was expecting worse,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°I got off light, in my opinion,¡± I said, tapping my chest.


    The other man looked at me skeptically. ¡°Most new ascenders hope not to be wounded at all on their prelims. It''s a mark of pride if you make it out unscathed,¡± the man said, a bit confused.


    I looked down at my golden cider. I could just barely sense mana in the liquid, no doubt due to the special brew. ¡°That¡¯s a bit foolish,¡± I said, speaking my thoughts. ¡°If you make it out of those ruins unscathed, you clearly didn¡¯t struggle enough.¡± How much could a person grow without adversity? Not much.


    ¡°That¡¯s an interesting perspective,¡± the stranger said. ¡°Most would rather have an easy ascent, reaping the rewards instead of seeking to grow stronger.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°The Relictombs are a trial,¡± I replied. ¡°One designed to test your limits in more ways than one.¡±


    They were designed to bestow an insight into aether in each zone, hand-crafted by the reality-warping djinn to keep their knowledge alive. It had failed in that goal for millennia.


    I wonder what kind of insight somebody could get from that horrible collage mimicking my old world? I wondered, staring at my drink. I felt tempted to take another sip, but I resisted the urge. What would the odds be that I could somehow gain insight into dimensional travel?


    The stranger continued to look at me strangely. My mind, working at only sixty percent of its normal speed, realized something important. This so-called ascender hadn¡¯t given his name.


    ¡°This man has asked only questions,¡± Lady Dawn said with suspicion. ¡°Tread carefully. Your tongue may wag more than you wish.¡±


    I¡¯ve got it, I said to my bond.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I got your name, friend,¡± I said, gesturing my cup toward the white-haired man. ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard mine earlier. Toren Daen, ascender extraordinaire,¡± I said loftily.


    That got a slight smirk from the man across from me. ¡°Call me Nerves. I visit this bar sometimes when I get back from my ascents.¡±


    That was a very obvious alias. What mother would name their child Nerves? Sounded like a recipe for anxiety disorder.


    ¡°So you¡¯re an ascender, too, Nerves?¡± I asked, feeling my buzz beginning to drift away now that I¡¯d stopped drinking. A mage¡¯s metabolism worked fast, and my partly assimilated body boosted that even higher. ¡°How long have you been at it?¡±


    ¡°I have been delving for several years,¡± Nerves replied, sparing a glance toward my unemptied mug. ¡°Though my own prelim was quite the experience. The Relictombs is a strange place, unpredictable despite our Sovereigns¡¯ efforts.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°I think the Sovereigns have made a decent bit of progress on conquering these ruins,¡± I said, thinking of these first and second layers. An entire civilization acted on just these two levels, self-sustainable through resources cultivated here. ¡°The death toll has gone down significantly with the introduction of simulets, and the fact that I can have a drink here speaks to how civilized it is.¡±


    Nerves leaned toward me slightly. The hustle and bustle of the tavern seemed to fall away as he focused on me with sharp intensity. ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± he acknowledged. ¡°But as you said, the Relictombs are a trial. But do you think anybody has completed the trial?¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, thinking of Arthur. Then I closed it slowly, my slight buzz evaporating entirely as I forced mana from my core across my body. It cleared my mind significantly. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The stare I gave Nerves was just as focused as the one he gave me. It sounded as if the man had more insight into the Relictombs and an inkling of their true purpose. But as far as I knew, the Alacryans with a measure of that understanding were few and far between. I could be misinterpreting his language.


    From an Alacryan standpoint, one could ¡®complete the trial¡¯ by returning with a relic or gathering enough accolades to elevate your Blood. Victory could be proven through the arduous trek across the pocket dimensions.


    But there was a weight to the way Nerves said trial. His teal eyes were watching my own, and he seemed to recognize the moment my pupils banished the haze of my buzz.


    Our interaction suddenly felt a lot tenser.


    ¡°He has been fishing for information,¡± Lady Dawn concluded. ¡°For what, I cannot say. Watch yourself, Contractor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid my prelim was pretty standard,¡± I said carefully. ¡°I got a few accolades, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. Once I¡¯ve reclaimed my Blood¡¯s past standing, I would say I¡¯d have completed the trial.¡±


    The white-haired ascender opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Alandra pulling herself up between us, her auburn hair in a bit of disarray. From her wavering steps, I could tell she was far gone.


    She looked Nerves up and down. ¡°You are almost my type,¡± she declared with slightly slurred speech. ¡°What were ya talking about with Toren?¡±


    I felt my heart rate pick up at this unexpected interruption. I had to get her away somehow, lest she reveal something. ¡°Nerves here is a long-time ascender. He was just asking about my thoughts on the Relictombs,¡± I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.


    Nerves¡¯ eyes flicked to me, then back to Alandra, who was doing a very poor job of trying to look flirtatious at the bar table. The ascender across from her looked entirely unaffected by the drunk woman¡¯s advances.


    ¡°Well, I asked about that and how his first ascent went,¡± the white-haired ascender said, his tone changing subtly. ¡°Our prelims are always some of the most memorable ascents in our career. Do you think Toren here will remember his?¡±


    Alandra¡¯s eyes lit up slightly. ¡°Oh, yeah he will! He nailed a scorpion to the floor. I¡¯ve always wanted to do that after I got the last one¡¯s head all over my robes.¡±


    Nerves raised a confused brow at the disoriented woman, but before I could intervene, she plowed forward. ¡°But that¡¯s nothing compared to the second zone. It was weird! With a road, and buildings, with the portals right there¡­¡±


    She moved her hand to Nerves¡¯ shoulder, moving it lower not-so-subtly.


    I took Alandra by the wrist, taking it away from where she was about to go a bit too low. She cut off, saying a stuttered, ¡°Huh?¡± in response to my interruption.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid my party member has had a bit too much to drink, Nerves,¡± I said, gently pulling Alandra toward where I spotted the rest of our party. ¡°Maybe we can continue this conversation another time?¡±


    I didn¡¯t give him an opportunity to reply, nodding and guiding Alandra by the shoulder toward where Jared sat. The one-eyed ascender¡¯s gaze focused on me, a clarity there despite his empty tankard nearby. The man was able to hold his liquor far better than I.


    ¡°Alandra was about to feel up a stranger at the bar,¡± I said in a clipped tone. ¡°I think she¡¯s had a bit too much to drink.¡±


    The woman in question was staring with wide eyes at Jared¡¯s eyepatch. ¡°Wow, Jared, when did you lose your eye?¡± She reached a hand toward the eyepatch, running her hand over it.


    The poor shield looked utterly unprepared to deal with this situation, but I didn¡¯t really care. As long as Alandra was kept away from Nerves.


    Jared set his mug down and pushed it away.¡°Yeah, uh¡­ That cider was meant for mages with body strengthening to withstand the effects,¡± he said, brushing Alandra¡¯s hand away from his head with a surprisingly gentle movement. His single eye watched the tipsy sentry with a notable level of concern, something that heavily contrasted their usual spats. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on her. Thanks, Toren.¡±


    I nodded, sparing a glance back toward the bar. Nerves was still watching me keenly.


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    That could have been worse, I thought as I turned away, spotting Karsien and Hofal chatting alone in the far corner booth. I slowly began to move toward them, weaving around drunk patrons and spills on the floor.


    ¡°You will have to watch for this Nerves later. Perhaps he suspects you carry a relic of some sort.¡±


    I shook my head imperceptibly. No, there¡¯s no reason to think that. And if he did, that¡¯s easily disproven. I don¡¯t like the fact that others know about that last zone, but it¡¯s going to get out in some way or another. Once we left the zone, it was only a matter of time before one of the Unblooded told the story to somebody. I moved forward to catch a patron as he stumbled, helping him right himself before moving on. He favored me with a barely lucid thumbs up. I just hoped it would be some time before it got out. And it''s unlikely to actually raise much suspicion. The Relictombs are strange.


    ¡°Perhaps, Contractor, perhaps. But I cannot help but feel there is something more to this.¡±


    At Lady Dawn¡¯s words, I thought about Mardeth for the first time in a while. The powerful vritra-blooded Vicar was directly opposed to me for some reason, likely for the destruction of the Joans. I hadn¡¯t had time to think through all the implications of that, but I desperately hoped they hadn¡¯t managed to watch me this closely.


    Powerful backers indeed, I thought, remembering my tail¡¯s words for the second time. I suspected they had been sent by Bloodstone Elixirs to shadow me. Considering my blades had once held a tracking spell, the company clearly had an interest in me.


    Putting the past conversation out of my mind for a moment, I finally reached Hofal and Darrin¡¯s table. They were talking lowly about something but perked up on my approach.


    ¡°Ah, Toren!¡± Darrin said. ¡°The man of the hour! I was just telling my old friend here about your preliminary ascent. I¡¯m sure it will make good conversation for your friends back in Fiachra.¡±


    ¡°It will,¡± I said with a chuckle, sliding into the seat against the wall. I was feeling drained again, the alcohol siphoning much of my tension and leaving exhaustion in its place. I hadn¡¯t slept since killing the scorpion boss in the Relictombs. ¡°Though I think I want to hear the story of how this was actually the second time you got scorpion brain matter all over your stuff.¡±


    Darrin chuckled, his eyes darting to Hofal with a mischievous light. The shield groaned. ¡°Aye, I remember that ascent. Right hell, that one was. It took ages to get the smell out of my boots. It''s why I finally made the boot-cleaning artifact we use.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well I¡¯ll have to tell the new ascender how it happened,¡± Darrin said. ¡°So, it all began around four years ago¡­¡±


    I listened intently to Darrin¡¯s story for as long as I could, snickering at parts and leaning closer whenever the story grew intense. The striker was a natural storyteller, keeping the right inflections and pauses almost instinctively, stringing me along as he told the story. But after a while, I felt my attention begin to drift away. I had to repeatedly pull myself back to the present, even near the climax of Darrin¡¯s epic tale.


    The ascender seemed to notice my exhaustion and slowly shifted his attention, calling for the barkeeper and saying something about a room. It went in one ear and out the other.


    I had done so, so much today.


    The sound of the tavern seemed to dull as I laid my head back against the wall, closing my eyes as I thought. The last thing I remembered seeing was Nerves¡¯ back as he made his way for the door, leaving the tavern like an elusive shadow.


    Sevren Denoir


    I stepped out into the open semi-sky, summoning my teal cloak from my dimension ring. It settled neatly onto my shoulders, the warm inner fur lining seeming to ward off an imaginary chill.


    I suppressed my presence and began to steer toward my parents¡¯ Relictombs Estate. I hated being there long and only stopped by to talk with Caera when I got the chance.


    My mind was running through questions and possibilities in neat succession as I considered the conversation I¡¯d had with the young Toren Daen. I¡¯d been in the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard after my most recent ascent, the relatively out-of-the-way tavern a common resting spot for me. They had fair prices for their alcohol and warm beds that wouldn¡¯t charge an arm and a leg.


    I could afford to pay for any of the accommodations in the Relictombs, but it was the principle of the matter. The innkeeper was honest, and that was a rare quality.


    Toren Daen looked like any run-of-the-mill wogart fresh off his prelim. I wouldn¡¯t have even paid him a scrap of attention if it weren¡¯t for a certain reaction he caused with one of my recently created rune devices.


    I pulled out the aforementioned device. It looked like a gold pocket watch, carefully etched with the symbol of Highblood Denoir. When I flipped open the lid, a compass revealed itself to me instead. Underneath the hood of this little device, I had spent countless hours inscribing runes into the metal, trying to get them to hold. Only with my most recently acquired subject was I able to finally crack the code on one of the most important pieces toward my goals.


    A point on the compass glowed a dim purple. I turned, facing back toward the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard. Sure enough, the purple dot stayed stationary relative to the Hoard. When I walked back for several meters, the point glowed even brighter.


    This little tracker could detect aether. It was imprecise and imperfect, but I expected to improve my design. One of the first things I learned when the little aether tracker was completed was that every person held trace amounts of aether in their body.


    But this Toren Daen held far, far more aether than the average man. Normally I had to hold the compass up to a person¡¯s breast to even get a note of their aether signature, yet when I¡¯d mistakenly opened my compass, Toren Daen had blazed on it like a star.


    My first assumption was that the boy had somehow smuggled out a relic, or perhaps had an old heirloom that affected aether somewhat.


    In my time researching the Relictombs, I¡¯d noticed a startling pattern of disappearances in the ruins. Those who entered the Relictombs carrying dead relics almost never returned, and when they did, they had fascinating stories to tell.


    It was with a bit of trepidation that I approached the newly dubbed ascender at his bar seat. And after just a minute of conversation, it was quickly apparent that the young man knew far more than he let on.


    I entered the estate¡¯s area. I could feel the sudden eyes of a dozen different hidden guards across nearby estates focus on me. I restrained the urge to tense, sending my gaze about in a panic.


    It was difficult not to act like that after what I¡¯d done, but as the weeks went by without being hauled to the dungeons, I realized I was likely in the clear. If I was caught, though, I knew that not even my status as a highblood heir would spare me execution. My family would be stripped of their position, and everyone close butchered for my actions.


    I let all of these thoughts out with an exhale, then began walking again. All for Caera, I repeated to myself like a mantra. So that she may never know the cruel world she lives in.


    If I could understand the Relictombs, the High Sovereign wouldn¡¯t have need of my sister. She would be free.


    And from how Toren Daen reacted to my probing, I was certain there was more to his story than met the eye. His strange reaction to my questions and the forward mage¡¯s words...


    Buildings, roads, and a nearby portal? Relics were most often found in zones that had broken down architecture. But if their party had found a relic, they would not be in a pub. They would be meeting with a Scythe personally to deliver it shortly after exiting the tombs.


    But what if they did find a relic? I wondered. It would seem Toren may have kept it from his party members, unaware such a thing could be sensed. It would be difficult to get it past an inquirer, but not impossible. But for what purpose? Greed?


    Toren didn¡¯t seem like a greedy man to me. But in this world, there was no such thing as complete honesty. Everybody held their damning secrets, lying to those around them and hurting others.


    Even me.


    But if Toren was not holding a relic because of greed, I wondered, my mind thrumming with the implications, Why would he keep it to himself?


    As I finally reached the gates of my parents¡¯ Relictombs estate, I felt my mood fall as I saw Mother in the outer courtyard, chatting with some representative from another Blood before they were sent on their way.


    The woman was laughing at something my mother said. To me, it seemed a forced thing. She gasped, ooohed, and aahed at all the right movements. She agreed when she needed to, and offered counterpoint when it was socially expected.


    Like a pet.


    I sighed internally. I despised this place.


    I entered through the gates, drawing the attention of my mother and her guest. ¡°Ah, Sevren! It is good to see you, son. It has been too long since you visited this estate,¡± she said.


    You shouldn¡¯t avoid us, those words said. It does our image wrong.


    A perfect, reflective smile was stitched onto her face. The woman was so good at that fake smile even I sometimes believed it to be real. But the only thing I¡¯d inherited from my mother was her white hair.


    ¡°Hello, Mother,¡± I said, my voice short. ¡°I won¡¯t be here long.¡±


    Mother took my brusqueness in stride, gesturing to her guest. They were a woman, perhaps in their early thirties with elaborate makeup and impeccable nails. ¡°That¡¯s fine, dear,¡± Mother lied. ¡°I was just saying goodbye to Jalia of Highblood Koav. She is an important member of their main branch and has always admired ascenders. Perhaps you could tell her a story before she departs?¡±


    The guest, Jalia Koav, nodded serenely, inspecting me with sparkling eyes.


    I saw through this ruse immediately. It was a thinly veiled attempt at pushing me toward the woman, no doubt in the hopes that a betrothal would be secured.


    My armor of being an ascender was beginning to wear thin. It had warded off suitors for years, but no longer. I¡¯d lived for too long. The uncertainty of my survival was wearing through.


    ¡°The Relictombs are a trial,¡± I said, staring through this woman¡¯s mask of makeup and poise. I could see it in how she hung on my mother¡¯s every word, chasing her approval and good graces. She looked pretty and spoke pretty, but underneath those facades was mud. Like too many, she was sharp like broken glass instead of steel. Of course, my mother saw it, too. But that was what the woman wanted in her inner circle. ¡°It will try everything it can to break you over its knee, leaving you in a dozen pieces. The best of us put ourselves back together, forged stronger for the trial.¡±


    I walked past the two women, ignoring Jalia Koav¡¯s fearful step backward and my mother¡¯s disapproving stare. ¡°And if you don¡¯t put all the pieces back?¡± I paused. ¡°It is called a tomb for a reason.¡±


    I entered the estate, leaving my mother and her tittering lapdog behind.


    All for Caera, I thought to myself. All for my sister.

 Chapter 61: Backers

    Toren Daen


    I groaned slightly as I awoke in bed. I rubbed my forehead, furrowing my brows as a slow pulsing headache pressed against the backs of my eyes.


    I immediately wanted to sink back into my bed. It was so warm; so soft. There wasn¡¯t that irritating sunlight out and about.


    The events of last night slowly dragged themselves to the forefront of my mind. How I slowly nodded off during Darrin¡¯s story. And I hadn¡¯t drunk any water or eaten any food with my magically enhanced alcohol. And this body had never indulged in a drop of booze before in its life.


    Crap.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t even that drunk,¡± I said with irritation as I rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a dull thump. ¡°Ow.¡±


    I wallowed there in my blankets, every now and then taking in new details about the room. It seemed Darrin had rented me a bed in the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard. It was a cozy little place, if spartan. A simple bedstand was next to my little bed, and the room was small. I spotted a door leading to what I suspected was a bathroom.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision, revealing a very disappointed phoenix looking down at me from above. ¡°I advised against this course of action,¡± she said. ¡°And now you suffer for it.¡±


    I groaned again, rolling to my hands and knees. I¡¯d need to make myself presentable before I went downstairs. ¡°For all your magic enhancements, this world has to have some sort of hangover cure,¡± I moaned, slowly pulling myself to my feet. ¡°It''s got to.¡±


    ¡°Our asuran bodies are more than powerful enough to banish ¡®hangovers,¡¯ as your races call them. After nights of revelry in Epheotus, our Clans have never needed to soothe such pains,¡± the phoenix replied.


    Lucky bastards and their improved physiques. But my bond¡¯s words made me pause as I hauled myself up. ¡°Asura have parties?¡± I asked, somewhat incredulous.


    ¡°Of course we did,¡± the phoenix replied, sounding almost affronted. ¡°Lifespans stretching toward infinity does not negate the desire for short bouts of enjoyment.¡±


    I remembered the aftermath of college parties in my previous world. What kind of cleanup would deities have to do? ¡°How did the continent handle that?¡± I asked, genuinely curious.


    The phoenix appeared to flush, something that gave me pause. ¡°Clan Aerind hosted the grandest of gatherings. Hundreds of leagues away from our populous centers.¡±


    Ah, I thought, understanding the implications. They don¡¯t clean up.


    Honestly, that wasn¡¯t too far off from my previous life either.


    There was a quiet silence as I finally got to my feet, one that was finally broken by my Bond shaking her feathered head. ¡°You are a troublesome bundle of human desires, Contractor,¡± she said, trailing behind me as I lethargically brushed my teeth in the attached bathroom.


    I spit out my toothpaste. Really, it was a common mixture of baking soda, charcoal, and a bit of mint for freshening the breath. Not even a paste. ¡°Don¡¯t put it that way. I think I¡¯m growing on you,¡± I said with a weary smirk as I washed the mix down the sink.


    ¡°You have burdened me with caring for your wellbeing,¡± the phoenix replied primly. ¡°That you do not make it easy does not endear me to you.¡±


    I rolled my eyes, moving some mana from my core to them. It helped dull the pain somewhat. ¡°That''s an interesting way to say you were worried about me,¡± I said, withdrawing a brush from my dimension ring and doing a once-over on my hair, which was starting to grow out. I would have to tie it back into a tail eventually.


    The phoenix narrowed her fiery eyes, meeting my own in the mirror. I smirked slightly. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°You have a troublesome habit of putting yourself in dangerous situations, Contractor,¡± she said. ¡°Somebody needs to worry for you since you clearly do not do enough of it for yourself.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, a bit of my teasing tone evaporating. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do this without you.¡±


    The asura raised a hesitant hand, resting it on my shoulder as I stared into my own eyes in the mirror. They were the same hazel of my previous life, but there was a tiredness there that wasn¡¯t present before. They¡¯d seen more than they ever wanted to. The asura¡¯s hand was warm, even through my clothes.


    ¡°If you could face this world without empathy and pain,¡± the phoenix said after a moment, ¡°I would not have Bonded myself to you.¡±


    ¡ª


    Hofal was waiting for me when I finally trudged down the stairs, lounging in a corner. The Unblooded Party was there too, chatting away with the retired shield.


    Darrin noticed me trudging down the steps first. ¡°And here he is now!¡± he said, smiling his familiar jaunty grin. ¡°How are you faring? Better than our sentry, I hope?¡±


    Alandra was curled up on one of the booth seats, her face buried into the leather. ¡°Stop,¡± she groaned. ¡°Stop thinking so loud. It hurts.¡±


    Yeah, she had been far more intoxicated than I was last night. I winced as I imagined a sliver of her hangover woes.


    Are you sure you don¡¯t have hangover cures? I asked mentally.


    ¡°I know of no such tonic,¡± the phoenix replied, a hint of amusement tracing over our bond.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing better than her,¡± I said honestly, lowering my voice so I didn¡¯t aggravate her headache even more. ¡°Thanks for getting me a room.¡±


    Jared sat nearby, for once not goading the woman with his regular taunts. Despite the copious amounts of cider he¡¯d consumed, he looked none the worse for wear. ¡°No problem, kid. Though I hoped you would¡¯ve drunk more. It would¡¯ve been funny seeing you try and levitate things while drunk. I had a bet going with a few other mages whether your spells would wobble in time with your steps, but you never drank enough!¡±


    I glared at the man. ¡°You had a betting pool based on how I¡¯d act when drunk?¡±


    He shrugged, his one eye glimmering with mischief. ¡°I failed this time, kid, but I¡¯ll get you back here one day. We¡¯ll get that answer, and I¡¯ll get my money!¡±


    Darrin laughed lightly, but cut off as Alandra groaned from the noise. ¡°Yeah. We¡¯re going to go sell our accolades soon, and I¡¯ll wire what we agreed on to you after.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m planning on going back to Fiachra for a couple of days before going on another ascent,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s also almost time for the annual bestowment ceremony in Fiachra. It''s my last chance to attend before I reach my majority.¡±


    Darrin nodded. ¡°I think we¡¯ll take a break ourselves. I¡¯ve been thinking of retiring for a while now to my estate out in Sehz-Clar. If you ever want to visit, my door is always open.¡±


    I nodded, exchanging a few more words with the Unblooded party before leaving the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard with Hofal. The man hadn¡¯t drunk anything last night, so his steps were just as sure as ever.


    Our trip out of the Relictombs was uneventful. Part of me was worried I¡¯d suddenly be accosted by a patrol of guards, whatever Alandra had said to that strange ascender last night causing a stir.


    But logically, that was extremely unlikely. I couldn¡¯t let myself grow paranoid, or else I¡¯d never be able to do anything without second-guessing my every move and every look a person gave me.


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    When I stepped out of the Relictombs portal in Fiachra, the temperature change immediately struck me. It was below freezing, and I hastily funneled mana from my core to warm my body. My breath misted on the air as Hofal and I exited the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association.


    I immediately sensed several presences focusing on me. Familiar presences.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I said, keeping my eyes straight ahead, ¡°Go on ahead a ways. I¡¯ll meet you at the Cistern.¡±


    He gave me an odd look, hearing something in my tone, but the man thankfully trusted my judgment. ¡°Watch yourself, Toren Daen,¡± he said. ¡°Call for me if you need my help.¡±


    I nodded as Hofal strode toward a stall, pretending to be checking out the wares. I leaned against a nearby wall, closing my eyes for a moment and gathering my breath.


    ¡°I thought I told you I¡¯d leave your bodies to float down the canals if you tried to follow me again,¡± I said in a whisper. The man a few meters away from me, however, dressed in casual clothes and looking for all the world like a normal pedestrian, heard it as if my lips were next to his ears.


    To his credit, he barely reacted. He must have sensed my attention on him and his nearby compatriots. This was the same striker who had tried to follow me into the canal tunnels a few days ago. He had mossy green hair that hung around his face like reeds.


    The man was silent for several seconds. ¡°Then we should be grateful we were not following you,¡± he settled on. His voice, quiet though it was, was carried to me by eddies of sound magic. This spell I was maintaining was more costly and mana-intensive than my template spells, but creating a conduit between us with sound mana was relatively simple.


    And he was right. The man hadn¡¯t followed me, merely been waiting outside the Ascender¡¯s Association. ¡°True enough,¡± I said, but he heard my annoyance. ¡°What does Renea Shorn want with me now?¡±


    That provoked more of a reaction than my surprise whispers. He turned toward me subtly, then averted his gaze. ¡°My employers have never named themselves,¡± he said. ¡°Why do you assume it is this ¡®Renea Shorn?¡¯¡±


    ¡°It was a simple deduction,¡± I replied shortly. After breaking the enchantments set on my new weapons, I expected some sort of investigation from Bloodstone Elixirs. And none had displayed quite the same level of knowledge about me and my habits as Renea Shorn. ¡°Why were you waiting for me?¡±


    The man sighed slightly. ¡°The Joans¡¯ backers have begun to move,¡± he whispered. ¡°They take up residence in East Fiachra, reestablishing a power base.¡±


    My body went cold. I remembered the mage who had shoved me to the ground through his killing intent alone. That King¡¯s Force may have paled in comparison to Lady Dawn¡¯s, but such a thing made an impression. And Mardeth¡¯s eyes¡­ one empty, the other conniving¡­ ¡°The Doctrination is setting up in East Fiachra?¡± I asked, feeling the weight of that knowledge. The Rats wouldn¡¯t be safe. I wasn¡¯t sure the common people would be safe.


    ¡°So you do know the threat you face?¡± the man said. ¡°Good. Mardeth is a dangerous mage. You cannot fight him on your lonesome as you did the Joans.¡±


    I ground my teeth. ¡°I will take your advice in the spirit it was given, and dismiss the implications it holds.¡± I felt familiar anger rise. I wasn¡¯t as weak as I was when I first came to this world.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Toren Daen. He is a crafty snake, sinking his fangs into all that he touches. Bloodstone Elixirs has danced a deadly waltz with this mage for years, and he still lives to tell the tale. And he has already taken measures to cripple your advancement in magic.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± I asked. The mossy-haired man was silent for a while. For too long. ¡°Tell me,¡± I said, restraining my tone more.


    ¡°He has declared that you will not receive a rune at the upcoming Bestowal Ceremony in East Fiachra,¡± the man said slowly. ¡°He has already subsumed the vicars who manage the bestowals. They will not grant you more magic.¡±


    That revelation took the breath from my lungs. Most Bestowal Ceremonies were accomplished by the Doctrination because the cultural understanding was that the Vritra granted us ¡®lessers¡¯ magic. And so the vicars acted as a stand-in for the Sovereigns themselves, bestowing runes and spellforms upon diligent mortals. But if somebody could control the vicars?


    They would never get another rune.


    ¡°Don¡¯t follow me,¡± I said to the mossy-haired striker, trying to keep my anger restrained as I pushed off the wall. I approached Hofal, stalking past him as I tried to grapple with this revelation. I¡¯d been planning to attend the annual East Fiachra Bestowal Ceremony on the New Year, only a couple of days away.


    I would have to double-check this spy¡¯s information with Wade. I couldn¡¯t implicitly trust everything he told me, but it felt plausible. A mage who was registered to a certain city, like I was to Fiachra, could only attend bestowals in that city. It kept the distribution of magic controlled and regulated.


    I wouldn¡¯t be able to go to Aedelgard and just get my bestowal there. I wouldn¡¯t be able to try and weasel my way into West Fiachra¡¯s bestowals, either. This Mardeth was a dangerous mage, in more ways than one.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I ground out, ¡°Who is Mardeth, exactly?¡±


    The shield stopped in his tracks, his eyes watching me unreadably. ¡°That man is dangerous, Toren. You shouldn¡¯t try to go after him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I said, not turning around. ¡°He is going after us. Blood Joan had powerful backers.¡±


    The shield blanched, then nearly tripped on his own two feet. ¡°What?¡± he said, his breath coming up a bit short. ¡°Mardeth is after us? That¡¯s the worst possible thing that could¡¯ve happened!¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, finally turning to look at my friend fully. His face was white as a ghost.


    ¡°Mardeth is from Etril. He¡¯s been a vicar for the Doctrination for decades, but everyone expected him to challenge Scythe Melzri¡¯s Retainer a year ago for their position at that year¡¯s Victoriad. When the time came, he openly forfeited his match, yielding to the mage who would become Retainer Mawar. But that¡¯s the power he has, Toren. He¡¯s out of our league.¡±


    I thought I vaguely remembered hearing about that incident. The lead contender for Scythe Melzri¡¯s Retainer had publicly withdrawn, stating rather openly to the crowd he had found an even greater calling. The Scythe in question had nearly murdered the contestant there for the perceived disrespect, but she had stayed her hand for one reason or another.


    I ground my teeth. I felt an itch to dive right back into the Relictombs; to focus on getting stronger and perfecting my power. But I needed to check in on the situation in East Fiachra, especially with this new information.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I said, moving toward the Cistern.


    ¡ª


    ¡°A few vicars and their servants have been renovating the temple nearby,¡± Wade acknowledged. ¡°They came by not long after you two left. They cleared every person nearby out of the way, and from what little information my rats catch, they¡¯ve been fixing up the inside and refurbishing the structure.¡±


    He had been sitting on the sofa in front of the Fiachran planning map, going over a few papers when I¡¯d interrupted him.


    ¡°Damn,¡± I said with a breath. ¡°Is that all they¡¯ve been doing?¡± I asked.


    Wade shrugged. ¡°They¡¯ve only been here for a couple of days. Not long enough to really do anything, but you know damn well I¡¯m keeping an eye out. These people have enough to deal with without the Doctrination sticking their noses in.¡±


    I sighed. The public image the Doctrination tried to portray was of stern but fair priests who attempted to fulfill the High Sovereign¡¯s will as his ¡®mortal hands.¡¯ But their message was cruel to those who had not awoken their mana. According to the Doctrination, nonmages simply never wanted to be mages enough. They didn¡¯t desire to please their High Sovereigns enough, so they were spurned. If you were a nonmage, the only person you could blame was yourself.


    It furthered the stigma against nonmages. And these people of East Fiachra, who were doomed before they even started?


    The Doctrination would rip their brittle hope apart.


    Naereni sauntered in before I could reply, holding Apple in her arms. The little skaunter crooned whenever she scratched under its chin.


    The striker plopped herself down on the couch, sidling up to Wade. The sentry absentmindedly laid an arm around Naereni¡¯s shoulders as she cooed at the little skaunter. Wade¡¯s face flushed slightly as I smirked at him, giving a covert thumbs up. I was even able to set aside my reasonable suspicion of the skaunter for this new development.


    ¡°Sup, Toren!¡± the black-haired striker said, side-eying Wade¡¯s flushed face and seeming proud of herself. ¡°Are you an ascender now?¡±


    ¡°Yup,¡± I said, flashing my ascender¡¯s badge. It had a nice chrome sheen since I was from a Named Blood.


    Naereni snatched it from my hand, catching me off guard. ¡°Hey!¡± I cried indignantly.


    ¡°You even look like you¡¯re fresh off your prelim,¡± she said, snickering at my photo before tossing the card back. I narrowed my eyes at Apple, who looked like he would¡¯ve enjoyed gnawing on my new card. ¡°It seems like you won¡¯t be coming back here nearly as often,¡± she said with a bit of a somber note.


    I sighed. ¡°Not nearly as much, no, but something¡¯s recently come up. It seems your problems didn¡¯t end with the Joans.¡±


    Wade¡¯s eyes flashed as he seemed to understand my implication from our earlier interactions.


    ¡°It looks like the Joans were being supported by a vicar from Etril,¡± I said slowly. ¡°A mage named Mardeth. He¡¯s set up camp in East Fiachra, and according to Wade, is currently restoring the temple there.¡±


    Wade¡¯s previously flushed face drained of color so fast it looked like a blur. ¡°Mardeth? The Vicar of Plague is here? In our district?¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°I had a tense meeting with the man at the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association,¡± I said. ¡°And agents of Bloodstone Elixirs warned me earlier that Blood Joan had powerful backers.¡±


    Naereni seemed confused by her beau¡¯s change of demeanor. ¡°Who¡¯s this Murdeth person? And who names their kid Murdeth? That sounds like murder.¡±


    ¡°Mardeth,¡± Wade corrected with a breath. ¡°The man was almost a Retainer. He has a brutal reputation, even for the Doctrination. Enough that I know about it, even from outside his Dominion.¡±


    As the three of us began to talk, I realized that East Fiachra¡¯s woes were far from finished.

 Chapter 62: Intent

    Toren Daen


    I watched from the edges of the fire, smiling as young children played at being mages. One of the boys, who seemed to be swallowed by the thick coat he wore, swung a stick at his friend as if it were a sword. His friend parried it with an exaggerated swipe, thwacking his opponent on the shoulder in a wild riposte.


    The boy cried out, then threw away his stick. He rushed his friend, tackling him into the snow where they rolled. Their parents had to intervene to pull them apart, but the entire thing made me snicker slightly.


    Do asuran children ever squabble like that? I asked my bond as I sipped at the familiar stew. The night air was chilly, and tomorrow would be the new year. Greahd¡¯s gathering had a lot more people tonight, and there were a dozen more fires and unfamiliar people. The New Year¡¯s Festival of East Fiachra wouldn¡¯t be as grand or showy as those currently taking place in West and North Fiachra, but I had a feeling there were ties and connections here found nowhere else.


    My asuran companion watched the squabbling children apologize to each other with a fondness in her eyes. ¡°They certainly did,¡± she said, with something like nostalgia drifting through her voice. ¡°It was not so easy to separate their squabbles, but our young learn early to restrain their strength.¡±


    One of the boys was the child who had lost his fingers from frostbite. His mother gave me a hesitant nod, before shuffling him off.


    The people didn¡¯t look at me with such utter distrust as before. I was seeing the effects of my actions here, slowly but surely. The children played around the small square, laughing and playing as children should. A few had thicker coats, courtesy of the Rats¡¯ donations.


    Past blithe addicts didn¡¯t have such empty eyes. But there was a tension in the air, like that of a live wire that needed to be released. It confused me. Why was there such anxiety as things improved?


    But I had more to think about right now. I held my violin in my hands, the aged wood a comforting weight against my collar. I closed my eyes, testing a few chords and trying to reach the mindset I had the last time I played for these people. What I had done that time was special.


    I had done it in a trance. The way I infused my emotions and thoughts into the waves of sound, projecting my hopes into the mana.


    Only after the fact did I question what I had done. Eventually, I realized I had pressed my intent into the air but in a far different manner than killing intent.


    Killing intent was blunt. It was brute force, blazing confidence, and utter surety in your power forced onto everybody nearby. But what if you didn¡¯t try to press others into the ground with your intent? What if you tried to convey more complex emotions than just bloodlust?


    I drew my bow over my strings, a higher, hopeful note vibrating out. I latched onto that sound, allowing myself to feel what it brought to the surface. Then I tried to contain it, pressing it into the ambient mana like I did when I wanted to impose my will on others. That part was easy. It was similar to how Lady Dawn demonstrated how to wall off my thoughts and emotions, except instead of keeping them in, I tried to push them out.


    The emotion flowed out for a moment. I felt the ambient mana shift, my intent made manifest. I felt a wave of jubilation, which also flowed into the mana.


    I wasn¡¯t prepared to portray that emotion, causing my concentration to stutter as the note finished. For the briefest of instants, I succeeded in my attempt to send raw, unfiltered feeling into the air through more than just music. But a second later, it faltered.


    I looked at my bow, humming. I knew I was onto something. This was an art that was beyond simple fighting and killing with sword, shield, and spellfire.


    I laid my bow back onto the strings, trying again. I drew out a few faster notes this time, the sound making me remember my high-octane runs through the Clarwood Forest. My mind fell into that near-feral state of mind I had pulled over myself in those days; how I had been barely surviving, each moment a step away from death. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end as I fully immersed myself in those past experiences.


    And then I pushed them outward, releasing them like a held breath. For a long moment, the sound mana in the air thrummed with captured meaning. But once again, it faltered, the intent winking out under the weight of my concentration.


    I felt like I was missing something. It was like a word on the tip of my tongue, deftly avoiding any attempt at remembrance. Or maybe a vague sense of deja vu, the inexplicable feeling that you had felt this before; knew the situation. But you could not remember how or why.


    I opened my eyes at last, suppressing a bit of consternation. I was surprised to see Greahd there, watching me with wide eyes. Her mousy brown hair had a bit of sweat matting it from all the work she had done to set up this New Year¡¯s Festival despite the cold.


    ¡°What was that?¡± she asked breathily, her eyes trained on my violin. ¡°I feel it now. Goosebumps trail my skin, and not from the cold. I feel as if I¡¯ve been running for miles but in an instant.¡±


    I slowly lowered the instrument, smiling softly. ¡°It''s something I¡¯ve been working on,¡± I said. ¡°A future for my music. Maybe for all music?¡± I asked myself wonderingly.


    ¡°Oh, what a future that would be,¡± Greahd said, our shared passion for the art allowing her to see the possibilities. ¡°If you get a chance, though, do you want to help me with some more of our preparations? We have some heavy beams that need moving, and a mage would be much appreciated.¡±


    I nodded, gently setting my violin into its metal case as if it were a child. I closed the case, then stashed it in my dimension ring. ¡°Lead the way, Greahd,¡± I said, stretching out a few kinks in my back.


    The woman smiled gently, leading the way. She chatted with a few people along the way who approached her, giving them warm looks and advice.


    ¡°There are few in the world as genuine as this woman,¡± Lady Dawn said somberly. The Unseen World still dampened my vision and senses, but I¡¯d learned to filter past many of those distractions. ¡°It is a wonder she remains so kind.¡±


    I think¡­ I think her kindness is a rarity in any world, I thought back, nodding to a larger worker as he consulted Greahd on preparations. He nervously returned the nod, but he didn¡¯t avert his gaze as so many had before. Progress.


    ¡°I have found that such people burn themselves out,¡± the phoenix said somberly. It seemed these gatherings made her as introspective as I. ¡°They give and give and give until there is nothing left. Like the lifeforce in your chest can only give so much.¡±


    ¡°Things are better now,¡± Greahd said suddenly, interrupting the slight nosedive my thoughts had taken. ¡°I don¡¯t think the actions of the Rats are wise or sustainable long term,¡± she said, turning to me slightly. ¡°But after what you did with the Joans, things have been better.¡±


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    ¡°It''s not all that simple,¡± I said slowly, thinking of the Doctrination. ¡°But the people seem happier than when I first was here. But it''s so¡­ nervous,¡± I said, trying to find a word for the strange energy in the air.


    Greahd sighed, a puff of air misting in the cold. ¡°This is the first time in many, many years that things have started to change for these people,¡± the woman said. She gestured at the young boys running around the fires again, causing people to stumble and utter muffled curses. I would¡¯ve never guessed they had a fight a few minutes ago. ¡°Benny and Haelen haven¡¯t been able to play like this in ages,¡± she said sadly. ¡°But now they can run about without fear that they¡¯ll be grabbed by blithe addicts or cutthroats. The Rats¡¯ presence had added a layer of security to this place that never existed before.¡± She paused. ¡°And their parents watch. They wonder if this will last. They dare to hope, but hope is dangerous.¡±


    I considered that. ¡°I think things can stay better,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Though there needs to be something more permanent than the Rats.¡± As amazing as Naereni, Wade, Hofal, and Karsien were, they couldn¡¯t patrol this entire district. They¡¯d become folk heroes around here, but they¡¯d be stretched thin.


    Greahd nodded. ¡°Are you an ascender now?¡± She asked quietly. ¡°I remember how you used to talk of it when you got breaks at work.¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°Yeah. It''s not exactly what I was expecting. I¡¯m alone, instead of part of the Brothers Daen,¡± I said a bit somberly, ¡°But I¡¯ll accomplish our dream nonetheless.¡±


    Greahd patted my back assuringly. ¡°So many leave this place behind when they get their runes. They make it big, and think that this place is beneath them,¡± she said. ¡°All that magic draws them away from the important things in life.¡± The last sentence was said with a hint of bitterness I hadn¡¯t heard from her before. ¡°Tomorrow is the bestowal. All the parents hope their children will get a rune. They¡¯d be shipped off to a low-level academy, maybe. Sent away from here.¡±


    The talk of the Bestowal Ceremony brought my thoughts back to my current issues. ¡°Be careful about the vicars moving into the temple,¡± I said quietly. ¡°They had some sort of connection to the Joans, but I don¡¯t know what yet.¡±


    Greahd¡¯s eyes took on a faraway look. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry, Toren. I¡¯ve lived through more difficult things than a few vicars prodding about.¡±


    ¡°Still,¡± I reiterated, taking her shoulder. ¡°Be careful, Greahd.¡±


    Her eyes softened as they looked at my face. I wondered what she thought she saw there. ¡°Okay, Toren. As long as you promise to be safe in those Relictombs.¡±


    I smiled slightly, feeling my nerves disperse slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll come back whenever I can. If I get enough accolades, I¡¯ll even get you a better wagon,¡± I joked.


    The woman shook her head. ¡°Buy us some more coats instead,¡± she said seriously. ¡°The younger are warm, but too many freeze on these winter streets.¡±


    I gulped, then nodded. Eventually, we reached a small raised platform. Men were putting logs in place, trying to create a solid structure. I didn¡¯t know the purpose of the platform, but I happily pitched in, hauling wood and settling it into place. The workers were a lot more accepting of my work than I expected, but I suspected exhausting work ground away reservations about my mage status. Another strong set of arms overrode any fear they may have initially had.


    I worked for a while, finally getting a last log in place. I looked at the platform with a smirk, feeling satisfied at how quickly the task had gone. Greahd had wandered back to one of the cookfires, gently helping a younger woman properly mix the ingredients for her signature stew.


    I looked down as I felt a tug on my pants. I blinked as the young boy with missing fingers looked up at me with sparkling eyes.


    ¡°Are you a mage?¡± he asked, not a trace of fear in his voice. ¡°You lifted all those heavy logs, but your arms are so skinny!¡±


    I smiled slightly, kneeling down to talk. ¡°That I am,¡± I said gently. ¡°Though I think most mages wouldn¡¯t like being called skinny.¡±


    His friend raced over a second later, huffing and panting from trying to catch up. ¡°Benny, you should¡¯ve waited for me! You said we¡¯d get the mage together!¡±


    The young boy, apparently named Benny, stuck his nose up. ¡°Well, I got here first! ¡®Snot my fault you¡¯re slow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not slow,¡± the other boy said indignantly. ¡°You are! Remember a few days ago when your mom caught you?¡±


    Lady Dawn watched the interaction with a fond smile. It seemed she had a soft spot for children. I, however, was feeling a bit out of my depth as the boys began to squabble in front of me.


    ¡°--you¡¯re just as smelly as a¨C¡±


    ¡°--you eat skaunters for breakfast¨C¡±


    Help, please, I thought a bit desperately to my bond. I was not used to dealing with children.


    ¡°Children are quick to forget and easy to distract,¡± my asuran companion said with a soft smile. She seemed to only be half listening to me, instead focused on the young boys in front of us. ¡°Give them a show, Contractor.¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± I butted into their spat, making them both turn to me with pouting faces. ¡°If you two can¡¯t get along, you won¡¯t be able to see any magic,¡± I said, twirling my fingers as I knelt in front of them.


    That made both the boys shut their mouths for a moment, their sparkling eyes boring into me with characteristic innocence. ¡°You¡¯ll show us magic?¡± he whispered as if it was a taboo. ¡°Nobody ever shows us magic!¡±


    I held my palm up in front of me. ¡°Watch closely,¡± I said conspiratorially.


    A small, flickering candlelight popped into existence over my palm, making both the boys gasp and back away. I smirked, then allowed a bit more mana to strengthen the fire. The children watched, mesmerized, as one candlelight became two, then four, then eight.


    I raised both of my palms, enforcing my will over my mana. The spells condensed, a filter of pure mana changing the spells as they hovered midair. They became small fireshot spells, hovering in a gravity-defying way.


    I plucked one of the tiny balls of solid fire out of the air. It looked like a marble, except the insides roiled and flared with orange light.


    ¡°Hold out your hand,¡± I said, gesturing with the fire orb. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t burn you.¡±


    The boys looked hesitant for a moment before Benny held out his hand. It lacked several fingers, which almost made me pause. I lowered the fire bead into his hands.


    He gasped at the warmth, but I had absolute control over my own spells. That bead of fire would not burn unless I wanted it to. Benny looked at the small orb of solid flame with eyes that reflected the heat. He was utterly mesmerized by the tiny impossibility.


    Before the other boy could kick up a fuss at not getting to hold a spell, I conjured another spell bead. This one was of solid sound, similar yet different from my sound grenade spells. The insides shimmered like oil, a warping effect twisting any light passing through. It vibrated lightly when I set it in the other boy¡¯s hands.


    ¡°It¡¯s gotta be a regalia,¡± Benny whispered conspiratorially. ¡°Right, sir Mage?¡±


    The other boy elbowed Benny, causing him to clutch the little fire bead closer. ¡°Nobody has regalias, Benny! Don¡¯t be stupid!¡±


    I looked up from the mesmerized children as their mothers hastily approached, no small amount of worry on their faces. When they realized I had noticed them they stalled, but not for long.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for our children bothering you, Lord Mage,¡± Benny¡¯s mother said. She seemed to feel more confident speaking to me as the other woman tried to coax the children away as if I were some volatile chemical. ¡°They don¡¯t know how to treat their betters. I¡¯ll make sure my son learns tonight,¡± she said hastily.


    I stood up slowly, winking at the boys as I latched onto the other fire beads floating in the air with my telekinesis emblem. They glowed white, slowly traveling to my empty palm, where I reabsorbed the mana into my core. The boys watched with barely restrained wonder. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to apologize for,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I enjoyed giving them a little show.¡± Both boys let out exclamations of surprise and disappointment as the spell beads in their hands dissipated. ¡°It¡¯s good to see them out and about,¡± I said, brushing off my trousers from where I knelt in the dirt.


    The second mother looked a bit confused as she ushered her child away, but Benny¡¯s mother seemed to resonate with my words. She gave me an uncertain smile. ¡°That is true, Lord Mage. I¡¯ll see that little Benny enjoys himself more in the future.¡±


    I smiled at her, but something on the edge of the large New Year¡¯s gathering caught my eye. I frowned, politely excusing myself and looking toward the disturbance.


    Yes, there was a disturbance. A mage was hiding their aura not far from the gathering, watching with contemptuous eyes. His robes were dark and trimmed with a familiar red, contrasting with the utter paleness of his skin.


    A vicar watched from afar, scrutinizing the common folk like they were unruly cattle.

 Chapter 63: Bestowment

    Toren Daen


    I watched the vicars on the podium as young men and women lined up, anticipation and desperation in the air. The results of this ceremony could change lives. The people¡¯s future was balanced on the edge of a knife.


    If they obtained a single rune, they were free of this place. Free of poverty and starvation; free of their oppression.


    I was currently crouched on a nearby rooftop, observing the ritual from afar. From what I had been told by Renea Shorn¡¯s mages, I had been explicitly barred from receiving a rune from these men.


    The vicar in charge, a man I didn¡¯t recognize, was wearing the voluminous bestowment robes and hefting a familiar staff. I knew how they worked, at least partially. Gideon would eventually decipher the interplay of mana and aether between the robes and staff that allowed the bestowal of spellforms.


    An empty canal snaked behind the vicar¡¯s raised platform. It looked like it hadn¡¯t had running water through it in years. Rubble and refuse piled nearly to the rim, tarnishing one of Fiachra¡¯s architectural wonders.


    I watched a family break down as their teenage daughter failed to awaken a rune. The vicar dismissed her immediately, poorly concealing a scoff as the girl sobbed into her parents¡¯ thin arms.


    It was a strange thing to internalize. Every failed bestowal was a nail in the coffin for these people¡¯s futures. I just watched a girl¡¯s entire life be dictated by a small rod of wood and robes of cloth.


    Back on Earth, the kind of things that determined futures in such a definitive way were usually traumatic incidents. I once knew a young man who was paralyzed from the neck down after a motor accident. He would never love, never work, and never find a career.


    In Alacrya, not becoming a mage was just as definitive as a broken spine. The possibility of water was wiped away. These people would be just like the empty canal behind the vicar.


    And it was so indiscriminate. A young boy managed to get a mark of a caster, but he was the only one for this entire section of East Fiachra. He would be elevated beyond his peers.


    Did he work more than them? I asked myself distantly. Did that boy somehow deserve his spellform? Did he struggle any more than all of his friends?


    And yet I knew the likely answer.


    The rate of mages coming out of East Fiachra was far below one in five. I suspected it was closer to the one in a hundred of Dicathen. Agrona¡¯s system had managed to systematically funnel people with little magical potential into these communities, only granting those with mana the ability to improve their lives.


    It may take thousands of years, but eventually, this continent would only have mages. The unads would burn away under their boots.


    When the final child was called forth and failed to manifest a rune, I dropped from my perch, drawing my Rat¡¯s mask into my dimension ring. I weaved through the crowd, moving with a single-minded purpose toward the platform.


    I was feeling a vague sense of disgust at this entire affair. The vicar was preaching about how Agrona may bless these lessers if they took his teachings into their hearts, and that they were the only ones to blame for this failure.


    I knew it was a lie.


    ¡°--And so, give thanks to your Sovereigns!¡± the vicar said, hoisting his bestowal staff into the air. ¡°For they have granted you the opportunity to receive their gifts! It is only you who can take it. Do not shun his teachings. Do not close your minds to his truth, else you will be left empty and abandoned, as so many today have been!¡±


    ¡°And how do you know the High Sovereign¡¯s will so well?¡± I asked with barely concealed contempt from the crowd. ¡°You¡¯re just as mortal as the rest of us.¡±


    The vicar¡¯s movements paused as he scanned the crowd with angry eyes, finally finding my defiant stare. ¡°Ah, and I suppose you failed to awaken a rune yourself, boy?¡± the vicar said with a faux sympathetic air. ¡°You should worry for yourself. If you continue to question the Sovereigns¡¯ chosen, you will never enter the path of magic.¡±


    In other words, I thought with gritted teeth, Shut up and obey us, or we won¡¯t give you magic.


    I had been deliberately muffling my mana presence. From what I could sense of the vicar, my core was of a higher purity than his, which made it exceptionally difficult for him to sense my mana at all. He thought I was an unad.


    I flared my mana, making the man miss a step as he tried to continue his speech. The men and women milling around me lurched away like I was a beast with its hackles raised. ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question, vicar,¡± I said. These priests irritated me on a fundamental level: their holier-than-thou airs, their stranglehold on the people of East Fiachra, and their casual dismissal of people¡¯s futures. ¡°How do you know the High Sovereign¡¯s will?¡±


    A hush fell over the crowd, all eyes watching my confrontation with fearful attention. The air was taught as a bowstring; the only requirement for an arrow to be loosed was a slip of the finger.


    ¡°He has given us his words,¡± the vicar sneered, trying to take back control of the situation. ¡°His absolute will has been handed down to the Doctrination for nearly two millennia. And so it is, and so it ever shall be. And questioning us, you impudent boy, is akin to questioning the Sovereigns themselves,¡± he snarled, trying to loom higher from his platform.


    The man was thicker around the waist; not powerfully built like Darrin or a wall of a man like Jared. He was unimpressive.


    I shook my head. ¡°I think I am owed a single bestowment today,¡± I said. ¡°I am a resident of East Fiachra, after all.¡±


    The vicar¡¯s eyes trailed me up and down, resting particularly long on the signet ring on my finger. ¡°The church does not owe you anything, mage,¡± he said, a vindictive light in his eyes. ¡°In fact, let this be a lesson to you. You shall have no bestowment for daring to question our Sovereign¡¯s will.¡±


    At his words, though, a few nearby vicars began to move through the crowds toward me. They parted like a sea, allowing a straight path.


    ¡°And one of his Doctrines is that the strong rule the weak, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked, feeling my mana thrum in my veins. Lady Dawn shared in my anger. Hers was of a different quality; for a different reason than I could discern. But our shared anger cemented my own emotions.


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    ¡°That is inviolable truth,¡± the vicar on the platform sneered. ¡°One that none can escape from.¡±


    The vicars reached me. One laid his hand on my shoulder, some sort of spell primed on his palm. Lightning skittered over my telekinetic shroud, each tendril trying to worm its way through my protections like a snake.


    But the spell was ineffective. My barrier shrugged off the attack as if it didn¡¯t exist.


    The vicar only had time to let out a grunt of surprise before I swung my fist backward, my knuckles cracking against his nose. He collapsed without another sound, knocked out cold. One of the other vicars tried to swing a heavy club at me, a crude thing designed to crack bone.


    I caught it with my bare palm, then yanked it from the shocked vicar¡¯s grip with a pull of telekinesis. The cudgel, now under my telekinetic control, swung low against the vicar¡¯s thighs, impacting with a meaty thud.


    He screamed as he fell, clutching his leg. The last vicar tried to throw a shard of ice at me, but a quick flare of telekinesis smashed it midair, scattering shards of glittering ice into the snow. Another quick punch from my mind made the vicar crumple.


    The fat priest on the platform scrambled backward as I cleared the distance with a single bound, peering at him as a dog does food. A pull on his leg with telekinesis hauled him in front of me. ¡°And what does it mean if I am stronger than you?¡± I asked. ¡°Does that invalidate the High Sovereign¡¯s favor in you? Would I receive it instead?¡±


    ¡°I am a vicar of the Doctrination!¡± the man screeched in terror. ¡°You will unhand me at once!¡±


    I dropped him, but his head cracked off the hardwood platform. ¡°Tell Mardeth that he made a mistake making me his enemy,¡± I hissed. ¡°And remember this day, priest. Remember what it is like to be weak.¡±


    I dropped from the platform, the rest of the common folk parting for me as if I were Noah and they were the sea.


    ¡ª


    I stared at the Relictombs portal. I had signed on for a solo ascent, much to the nervous receptionist''s adamant requests that I reconsider. I had told the Rats I would be gone on a longer ascent, but not that I planned on going alone.


    The events of earlier in the day still weighed heavily on my mind. It seemed Renea Shorn¡¯s mages weren¡¯t wrong. From how the vicar recognized my signet ring and immediately made an excuse to deny me a bestowal, I was sure I wouldn¡¯t be allowed to receive a rune anyway.


    I wasn¡¯t sure how much of an effect that would have on my growth. My spellcasting method was unique and versatile, but runes had undeniable advantages. But for some reason, after mages reached their eighteenth year of age, the likelihood of receiving a rune during a bestowal dropped exponentially. The only sure way to receive a rune afterward was through Agrona¡¯s Obsidian Vault.


    I sighed, pushing those thoughts from my mind.


    I was heavily stocked on provisions, just as last time. Darrin had wired me my cut of the accolades, which was actually a sizable increase to my bank account. I¡¯d used that money to buy myself some dark mana beast leather armor to protect my torso and arms.


    I wondered what kind of effect ascending alone would have on the Relictombs. With people, there had been a noticeable change. Would that be more pronounced without ascending partners?


    ¡°Get a move on!¡± a man said with irritation from behind me. It seemed I had held up the line with my contemplation.


    I coughed, then stepped through the shimmering portal.


    I was glad that the zone I stepped into was not sweltering like my first. It was colder than the second floor of the Relictombs, but not freezing as Fiachra was this time of year.


    The sky above me was a cloudy gray, creating an overcast shadow over the land. Stark-white trees armed with a dozen grasping branches stretched toward the sky with gnarled limbs. The grass under my feet was dead, adding to the eerie ambiance.


    And I could not hear a single sound, even with my enhanced ears. The wind did not blow. The birds did not chirp. And there were no leaves in the trees to rustle.


    I turned in a slow circle, inspecting my surroundings further. I spotted no beasts, and I felt no presence watching me.


    I frowned. There was a thin dirt path leading north, snaking up and out of sight.


    What do I think the odds are that that is the path to the portal? I asked myself. I sighed, then began to walk along the path.


    But as much as I planned to grow through completing these trials, I had another objective in particular for this ascent. First, however, I needed to ascertain a better grasp of my surroundings before I dove straight into it.


    I followed the path for a few minutes, keeping a wary eye on my surroundings. Where at first felt no presence watching me, as I ventured further from the portal location, the more I got the uncomfortable feeling I was being spied on.


    But no matter where I looked, all I saw were the spindly white trees.


    I narrowed my eyes. Were their branches pointing toward me?


    The Relictombs were dangerous. They sought to kill you with every method they could, the zones themselves primed to convey their insight in the most brutal ways possible. This created an expectation in ascenders. You stepped into a zone and braced for an attack. Your life was in danger, and so you would fight.


    But the lack of an obvious threat in this zone caused my tension to ratchet up. If I couldn¡¯t see the threat, that meant the threat had seen me first. There had to be a danger here, whether that be a puzzle or an enemy to fight. But being uncertain and unaware only served to make me more paranoid.


    After a while of walking without result, however, I gingerly sat myself down on the side of the road. I steered clear of the endless, empty trees, instead pulling out some of my rations. I gagged internally as I forced myself to slurp down the protein paste that was so common for ascenders to carry.


    It had an absurd amount of calories packed into such a tiny tube. It had to: after all, the target consumer might fight for literal hours on end, expelling and burning energy. Apparently, function took priority over form.


    I was thinking about the zone when Lady Dawn appeared looking at me sternly. ¡°Contractor,¡± she said. ¡°You must remain more wary. Look down.¡±


    I blinked, confused, then did as my bond suggested.


    The grass, which I previously thought was dead, was growing slowly toward me, inching at a slow but inevitable pace.


    I jumped back to the dirt road, instinctively sending a small fireball at the dry brown grass.


    It caught immediately, and the grass screamed.


    I clutched my ears, the sound piercing straight through my enhanced eardrums. I snarled as the burning foliage¡¯s screams echoed through the empty zone.


    When my head cleared, a small, scorched patch marked where the grass had tried to slither toward me. But the real difference was in the trees.


    The branches of the forest were all pointed toward me. Each spindly, wiry limb of white wood was directed at me like the accusing fingers of a judge, condemning me for some unspoken sin.


    I took a step back, my eyes widening. The entire, endless forest around me seemed to have jointly singled me out, judging me in silent whispers and looming authority.


    I shuffled along the path once more, my protein paste forgotten. The trees became more and more dense as my path continued, and the brown grass had a new ominous tinge. The trees were old, gnarled men, hunched over from age but still dangerous.


    Whenever I looked at the sky or took a glance at the ground in front of me, the trees'' slender branches were pointing at my new location, somehow having shifted without making a single sound. They felt outright malevolent as I peered around, my hand clutching the hilts of Oath and Promise in white-knuckled grips.


    Lady Dawn, I thought with a hint of anxiety, I think I need to move up my timetable.


    The phoenix appeared before me with a raised brow. ¡°And what do your plans involve, Contractor?¡± Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I licked my lips, sparing one more glance at the static trees. ¡°I need to learn to harness my Phoenix Will.¡±

 Chapter 64: Insight of Millennia

    Toren Daen


    Lady Dawn tilted her head at me. Though no wind sifted through this zone, her hair rustled as if kissed by an invisible breeze.


    ¡°It has taken some time for you to question me of this aspect of our power, Contractor,¡± the phoenix said.


    I spared another glance at the forest around me as I walked. In the time I had taken to look at Lady Dawn, the trees had once again reoriented their spearlike branches toward me. ¡°I wanted to practice it in the Relictombs since you mentioned that it was difficult to restrain our asuran signature when I engage the Will. And there¡¯s no guarantee I¡¯ll ever have a more peaceful moment to practice my Will than now.¡±


    The phoenix nodded slowly. ¡°And that was wise. Until your control of my Will reaches precise levels of power, you will be unable to restrain the outpour of power.¡±


    I nodded. My control of mana and inner power had risen greatly as I assimilated the Phoenix Will, as I had to maintain tight control of the mana in my body. I was still undergoing the assimilation process regularly with Lady Dawn¡¯s assistance. From what I could feel, I thought I was likely nearing the ending stages of assimilation. Where it had taken Arthur several years to assimilate Sylvia¡¯s Will, I had some very distinct advantages in that regard. For one, Arthur had Virion to assist in his assimilation.


    I had Lady Dawn.


    ¡°How exactly can I expect the Will to function?¡± I asked, remembering how close Lady Dawn¡¯s mind had come to my own when I slipped into the Acquire phase of her Will. ¡°I feel like even my first phase was far more powerful than it should¡¯ve been.¡±


    It was true that the first phase of Sylvia¡¯s Will allowed Arthur to separate himself from the flow of time, but my Acquire phase allowed me to shoot lasers from my hands. They acted fundamentally differently.


    The phoenix furrowed her brows, no doubt sensing the implications of my words. ¡°Do you know what a Beast Will is, Contractor?¡± the phoenix asked at last.


    I furrowed my brows, walking around a bend in the unchanging dirt road. ¡°Mana beasts of certain power level, usually A-class and above distinction in Dicathen, are able to pass down their unique insight and Will, usually to their young. But mages can sometimes extract the Will from a beast core, if they¡¯re lucky.¡±


    Lady Dawn stared into my eyes and held my gaze. I slowly stopped walking, the asura contemplating how to break some bit of information to me.


    ¡°You are correct, Contractor, but you do not grasp the implications of your words. You know that a mana beast can pass on its insight as Will. But what happens when this beast passes on their Will to their offspring? And their offspring¡¯s offspring?¡±


    I furrowed my brows, trying to piece together what Lady Dawn was trying to tell me. She did this often, laying a path for my mind to trod and allowing me to reach the conclusion she desired on my own.


    Then it clicked. Though the sky above was cloudy, I felt a ray of sunlight might just have pierced its way through. ¡°It compounds,¡± I said. ¡°All that insight adds up into a single Will. It grows in power as the generations go by.¡±


    ¡°And how long do asura live, Contractor?¡±


    As I peered into Lady Dawn¡¯s eyes, I was reminded of how ancient this being was. Here was a woman who had seen the rise and fall of empires. Here was a woman who had witnessed the flow of time in a way I could not comprehend. Here was a woman who was older than Rome; older than Jerusalem; older than Babylon.


    She was older than anything I knew, and at that moment, I felt the full weight of that age on my bones.


    I swallowed. ¡°How many generations has this Will grown?¡± I asked, a bit of a waver in my voice. The Will had always been a bit of a distant thing for me. I had it, true, but I rarely drew on its power or contemplated its meaning.


    ¡°It is not known how far back the Asclepius Clan¡¯s knowledge has been passed from leader to scion,¡± Lady Dawn replied. The age in her eyes would grind any mortal man to dust. ¡°It is a nigh-infinite library of condensed understanding, waiting at your fingertips. But to allow you to slowly assimilate that insight, you must activate the Will in stages depending on your mastery. And my own insight guides you through the process. My mind, still holding lingering attachment to my Will, pushes you along safer paths. You do not break under the strain because I carry you through the shallow currents, as a mother shows her chicks the safest routes to fly. Thus, you access more raw understanding than otherwise would be possible.¡±


    I looked at my hands, clenching and unclenching my fists. That level of power¡­ It was hard to fathom. How many millennia of understanding were condensed into the Will nestled in my core?


    ¡°I think I understand,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°No, you do not. You can not, not without experiencing it further,¡± the phoenix cut across my words sharply. ¡°But you will understand in time.¡±


    I chewed on that thought, sparing another glance at the trees around me. They unnerved me to no end. ¡°So, do I simply¡­ embrace the Will?¡± I asked. ¡°Draw it to the surface?¡± sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°It will come to you naturally,¡± the asura said, standing in front of me. ¡°The Will desires to be used. Always remember that, Contractor. It is not some mindless force, like a storm or an earthquake. The Will of countless Asclepius asura desires to be learned. It wants to fulfill its purpose.¡±


    ¡°You speak as if the Will has consciousness,¡± I said hesitantly. ¡°As if it can make its own decisions.¡±


    ¡°The Will is a force, Contractor. But it is also a beast. Through assimilation, you tame that beast. You show it your worth. But it is still a beast.¡±


    I closed my eyes with a shuddering breath, my mind brushing against the Will in my core. It was an alien thing, but I could almost¡­ feel it agreeing with my Bond. About its desires. About its force.


    About its beastly nature.


    ¡°But do not let yourself sink too deep, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn said, drawing me back to the present. ¡°For you may not be able to pull yourself from that ocean. Your mind is but one of the many the Will has been a companion to. It does not know restraint. Only you do.¡±


    I let myself drift back toward my core, my mind feathering against the Will¡¯s. It eagerly rescinded my contact, like a curious child touching something new and interesting.


    It has probably never interacted with a human mind before, I thought with wonder as the Will slowly drew itself up to me. And then we intersected.


    I felt the power, the knowledge, suffusing me in an instant like a shot of caffeine. It was as if all the cells in my body had been laid in a warm bath, the heat suffusing them and speeding up their function. My muscles felt loose and mobile, unseen tensions releasing as my mind brushed against both Lady Dawn¡¯s and Will¡¯s. As the connection solidified, Lady Dawn and the Will seemed to become one and the same, the experienced phoenix taking the reigns.


    But there was something else in there, too. Where Lady Dawn was a brilliant light banishing my ignorance and lack of insight, this thing was dark and beastly. It was¡­ dormant. Sleeping. But the light of the Will irritated it, crashing against its eyes and burning its pitch-black scales.


    My basilisk blood. It loathes the light. It hates the way Lady Dawn scours away the shadow.


    They could not exist together. Not for long.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I opened my eyes, about to ask a question. But what I saw shocked me to the core.


    For miles upon miles around me, small red fires burned in the heart of every white tree. Those fires should consume the wood, some part of me thought. But another part, the one that almost understood, knew that was not how the fire of life worked.


    But now, with my senses enhanced many-fold by the first phase of my Phoenix Will, I could truly feel the attention on me. It was like spiders crawling on my skin, the legs poking and prodding at every bit of skin with malicious intent. I felt the branches of each and every demonic tree brushing against my face, my arms, my torso, my eyes, my ears¨C


    The Will retreated into my core in a rush, leaving me gasping. In the few seconds I¡¯d used it, it had siphoned a significant portion of my mana just to stay active. But the level of understanding had nearly overwhelmed me.


    ¡°These trees,¡± I said with a gulp, staring out at them with fearful eyes, ¡°What are they?¡±


    ¡°They have souls,¡± Lady Dawn said from beside me, a bit of disgust leaking into her voice. ¡°I do not know of their origin. Your senses have not delved deep enough to peer at their secrets. But the fact that they have heartfire¡­ It is wrong.¡±


    I stared with wide eyes at the trees around me. Their gnarled and twisted branches seemed to have straightened into spear shafts, ready to impale me for witnessing their secrets.


    ¡°Heartfire?¡± I asked a bit emptily, trying to get my mind to think again.


    ¡°Lifeforce. The flame of vitality. Soultether. Heartfire. All words for the same thing: the aether that ties the soul to the body,¡± the phoenix said. Her words trailed off as she stared at the trees. ¡°What did they do to these trees? Who did they do it to before?¡±


    This¡­ this had rattled Lady Dawn deeply. Something about that deep red fire, flaring in the center of every tree.


    I swallowed. I had a feeling I wasn¡¯t going to test the Will again any time soon.


    ¡ª


    The first sign of trouble came as dusk settled. I continued moving on the endless dirt path for many miles, keeping fearful eyes trained on the trees. I never saw them move. Never saw them shift, or heard the creaking of their boughs. And yet their branches stayed trained on me like arrowheads, always ready to strike.


    The gray clouds in the sky began to shift, moving in unnatural patterns. They darkened ominously as they swirled, casting the land in shadow. I frowned upward, sensing the unnatural movement of the mist above. It was clearly a portent of something to come.


    Lightning flashed across the sky, heralding rain. A few seconds later, thunder rumbled ominously.


    And then the rain began to fall. As far as I could tell, there was nothing abnormal about the rain. No special mana properties. No strange coloration.


    But its effects upon hitting the ground were the furthest thing from normal. The entire zone rumbled as trees began to quiver and shake, their roots writhing under the surface as they greedily drank the water the sky gave them. It looked as if massive worms were writhing under the surface of earthen skin, the ripples cascading outward like thunder.


    And some of the trees began to change. Crimson leaves sprouted from their branches, quickly morphing and growing. But leaves were not the only thing the trees grew: large, bulbous fruits the color of blood coalesced like tumors on the branches of the trees, before growing too heavy and dropping to the floor.


    My breathing picked up as I drew Oath and Promise, mana coursing through my veins. The ambient mana around me thrummed with power as I settled into my stance, looking around frantically. Heavy rain soaked through my clothes, adding another chill to my bones beyond the eerie sound of fruits dropping to the floor. Water dripped down my forehead and along the edges of my blades, and the ground beneath my feet began to grow muddy as the moisture seeped in.


    The first thing I heard besides the rain was a sound like wood being shoved through a chipper. I oriented on the sound, watching in awed horror as one of the fruits morphed, swelling and changing as it sat on the ground.


    Long, wiry white arms thrust from the fruit like a sprouting sapling, white wood twisting in on itself to form a slowly growing figure. The figure that grew from the fruit looked like it was made of the same white wood as the trees, but that was where the resemblance ended. Short rear legs scratched at the ground, and an angular maw of razor-sharp teeth snarled. A trim, lithe body rippled as wood shifted like veins under paperlike skin.


    The water running over its skin reflected its beady red eyes, which quickly glared at me.


    The creature rushed me, hauling itself forward with ape-like arms as long as its entire body. It screeched, a gnarling sound that grated against my eardrums.


    And soon, a dozen more screeches joined it. Fruits burst open like cysts all around, sprouting these monstrous creatures in their place.


    I sidestepped as the monster leapt at me on the path, bringing Oath down in a scything arc as it passed. My blade flashed as it severed the monster¡¯s head from its body, the white maw chittering as it tumbled away. The body collapsed to the ground in front of me, roots squirming at the base of the skull where I¡¯d separated the head.


    I swiveled in the rain, kicking up water as I brought my sword in a cut toward another creature. My blade cut deep into the wooden body, but not enough. I had to backpedal to avoid a swipe of their claws, but it wasn¡¯t enough.


    The razor-sharp claws grew a few inches as I tried to dodge backward, scraping against my telekinetic barrier with a screech like the sheering of metal. Crystalline fractures opened along the barrier where the hit landed, signaling that these swipes were far more dangerous than they appeared.


    I snarled, pushing the aether beast away with a burst of telekinesis and following up with a fireball. The rain dampened the effect of my spell, but I was skilled enough that it still seared a hole through the wooden body.


    But there were dozens of screeching beasts barreling through the forest toward my exposed position. I was out in the open, and if I wasn¡¯t careful, I would be surrounded and cut down. I needed to find a better position than the muddy path.


    I burst forward with telekinesis, my first instinct to get up into the trees. It was something that had been ground into my subconscious by my training in the Clarwood Forest. If you were overwhelmed on the ground, immediately seek the high ground.


    I dashed toward one of the trees, leaping over one of the clawing aether beasts. The tree demon tried to swipe at me, its claws extending momentarily to give it extra reach, but I used a few pushes against its body to launch me further.


    The branches of the tree caught me like a net. Where before I had never seen the white boughs shift and move, now they tightened around me and tried to suffocate the breath from my lungs. They tightened with malicious intent, having finally caught their prey.


    Damn it! I thought as my telekinetic shroud creaked, the force from the constricting branches pressing down on it like a snake.


    I pushed outward with an unfocused nimbus of fire and telekinetic force, scorching the wood and splintering any branches too rigid to bend. In that brief reprieve, I darted back to the clear, mud path, recognizing that trying to survive in the trees was tantamount to suicide. They wanted to strangle me just as much as these beasts.


    There were dozens¨Cno, hundreds¨Cof the aether beasts sprinting through the forest now. I blanched, the water seeping into my clothes making me feel twice as heavy. They all came up to my waist when they ran, looking like a tide of death. My footing was unstable as I began to run, sprinting with both telekinetic pushes and bursts of fire from my feet. I held Oath and Promise in my hands, the twin blades my only comfort.


    I vaulted over a few tree demons as they reached the path in front of me, severing their hands with my weapons as they tried to claw at me. The stumps of their hands twisted with roots as they screeched in fury, but while these beasts had me outnumbered, I was faster.


    I landed on the head of one of the beasts. It showed no shock or startlement from getting a boot to the face, but after I used a flare of telekinesis and fire from my feet to propel myself further along the path, I doubted it would ever show emotion again.


    A score of the small monsters were waiting for me in the place I was about to land. My mind, already frantic from being surrounded by hundreds of hostile monsters, worked quickly to try and come up with a solution.


    I summoned a fireball at my feet, compressing the fire mana into a tight sphere. When I reached the ground, a dozen swiping hands carved gouges into my telekinetic barrier, crystalline fractures rippling out. Before they could attack again, however, my boots hit the ground. My feet drove the fireball into the muddy earth, causing it to detonate in an indiscriminate wave.


    Fire washed over the beasts around me, the heavy downpour quickly snuffing out any lingering flames, but it cleared a small patch around the monsters.


    Their beady red eyes held no emotion but fury and hatred. They continued to charge me in an unending wave, not caring for their wellbeing as I tore those who got close to me apart. Oath and Promise reflected the lightning flashing overhead as the water tore into my confidence.


    I wasted no time, knowing that my mobility was all that kept me alive under the endless tide. I tried to stay above them as I ran, using their heads and bodies as platforms.


    But they were adapting to my attempt at escape. As I soared through the rain, a dozen tree demons meshed together, using their own bodies as stepping stones to try and intercept me in midair. They screeched as I approached, screaming what I assumed was bloody murder.


    I grit my teeth, seeing the wall of wooden flesh waiting for me. I focused on my telekinesis emblem, focusing a burst of power in front of me. I pulled my arms close and tucked my knees, then let loose with my spell.


    The concentrated force blew a hole through the barrier, and I slipped right through the grasping limbs. I trailed water as my feet impacted the soggy ground. When I landed, however, I finally saw a change in the unending landscape. A tall spire of rock jutted into the air like a lighthouse, the slick stone piercing through the trees. The top was a sharp point, but it was a far better location than my open location here.


    If I wanted to survive this storm, I would need to reach that spire.

 Chapter 65: The Wrath of the Forest

    Toren Daen


    I was faster than the tree demons, but they were adapting to my tactics. When I launched into the air, another tumbling pillar of tree demons tried to intercept me. As I approached, I used my telekinesis to move out of the way, swiping at the column with a fire-coated Oath.


    It seared straight through the hands that tried to reach me, allowing me to land deftly. I launched my spells from the soles of my feet, aiming for the spire. In the split second of takeoff, however, a swiping claw hit my foot. It sent my graceful arc into an uncontrolled tumble as I struggled to reorient, flipping through the air like a bird who had forgotten how to fly.


    I crashed into the next rising tower of tree demons, their scratching hands covering my vision in monochrome gray as they ripped and tore at my telekinetic shroud. I felt a claw finally pierce my barrier, scoring a stab into my abdomen. I screamed as the claw curled in my flesh, slicing deeper.


    Operating on pure adrenaline and instinct, I pushed out with an unfocused nova of fire, sound, and force. Tree demons screamed as they were consumed by fire, shook by sound, and obliterated by intermittent blows of telekinesis. The tower I was held captive by was smashed apart, everything within three yards blown away as I fell to the ground in a heap.


    Mud splashed over my armor and face as I hit the ground. I pulled myself to my feet hastily, clutching my weapons tightly. My abdomen was bleeding badly, but I couldn¡¯t tell what the damage was with the rain washing away the blood. It hurt like hell, though, and every step felt like it would tear something.


    My telekinetic barrier began to slowly, slowly repair. It was agonizingly tedious, the crystalline cracks smoothing over in slow motion. But I couldn¡¯t wait for it to fix itself. I needed to get to that spire.


    I focused on my telekinesis emblem, compressing and condensing a force near my back. I held back the spell, gathering more and more power.


    Before my spellform was upgraded to an emblem, I couldn¡¯t afford to use instant pushes that were too powerful. Anything I tried would hit me back with the same force. If I used a megaton punch on an enemy, I would be struck with the same pushback.


    To a degree, my mana-enhanced body allowed me to ignore a lot of that pushback. But my telekinetic shroud dampened those concerns. The shroud distributed the force of my pushes across its surface, meaning I could use my telekinetic pushes and pulls without worrying about blowing my body apart.


    I only hoped my shroud would hold out under this push.


    I released the spell, a colossal telekinetic push aimed at the mud behind me. I felt myself lurch as the mud was blown backward in a ten-foot tall wave, splattering the monsters around me in brown muck. I was catapulted into the sky, the raindrops feeling like a dozen bug bites as they bit into my skin.


    My telekinetic shroud shattered into a million pieces as the pushback obliterated the already weakened barrier. I felt the remnants of the force wash over my back, and I knew I would have a massive bruise as the air was driven from my lungs.


    But I rocketed in a straight line toward the spire, going at speeds too fast for the tree demons to intercept.


    I twisted midair as I approached. I impacted the slick stone feet first, creating a small crater around my boots. My knees creaked as they bent, and I felt my mana-enhanced bones shudder.


    But I didn¡¯t fall. The stone must have been as slick as a seashore, but the flaring white telekinetic pull under my feet kept me anchored to the spire. I straightened, standing at a nearly ninety-degree angle as I stared up into the roiling storm clouds above. Rain dripped off my body, falling many stories below.


    I yelled aloud as the lightning cracked overhead, the emotions pent up in my chest from my desperate escape finally released in a voice that echoed like thunder, the sound mana in the air roiling like the waves of the sea.


    I breathed heavily, my blood dripping down with the water. My side hurt like hell, but now I wasn¡¯t running. My telekinetic shroud slowly reformed, the lull in the fight giving me much-needed time.


    I turned around, looking straight down at the ground. My hair fell around my head in drenched locks, sticking to my face as I stared at the tree demons. The demons crowded around the base of the spire in a sea of white. Their beady blood-red eyes stared up at me from below, condensed fury churning inside them. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I yelled a primal battlecry down at them, adrenaline flowing through my veins.


    That started the horde. They dug their fingers into the stone, climbing up after me in droves. I distantly thought they looked like ink flowing up a long pen, seeking to coat all in white.


    I threw Promise with a telekinetic burst. The blade buried itself in the skull of a tree demon, cutting off its screech before the dagger wrenched itself free. Then, it swerved to the side, cutting at another beast and darting around under my control.


    I conjured a sound grenade in my left hand, throwing it down at the approaching wave. When it detonated, all the scrambling creatures in the immediate vicinity lost their grips on the stone, tumbling off the spire and knocking more free as they fell.


    But still, they came. Still, they hunted.


    I ran my finger along the edge of Oath, making the blade sear. Whenever the rain hit my saber, steam rose as my fire mana rebuffed the water.


    I threw a handful of fireshot at the beasts, the orange streak of solid flame punching through a dozen more. Promise darted around closer to me, ready to intercept any that got too close.


    And they finally reached me, standing against gravity at the top of the stone spire. One of them lunged at me, its long, gangly limbs seeking to tear me apart. Oath severed its arm from the shoulder with a hiss, making the creature lose its hold and tumble back to the floor.


    Another monster tried to circle around the edge of the stone, but a direction to Promise sent the dagger into its skull. I used a telekinetic push on another to dislodge its wooden fingers. It screeched as it fell, but whenever I knocked off one, three more took its place.


    The creatures didn¡¯t bleed. Their wounds leaked a viscous red sap that coated my weapons and dulled their cutting edge. I had to periodically run a fire spell over the edges to burn away the refuse.


    I was trapped on this spire, facing an unending tide of aether beasts. Though this funneled them into a more manageable space for me to fight them, I also realized that I had no idea how to survive this. Eventually, I would be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. My mana would dry up, and I would be dragged into the horde and ripped limb from limb.


    I danced around a lunging beast, grabbing it by its thin neck and using a telekinetic push to send it barreling into its compatriots. Oath came up in a quick arc, severing the head of another. I used the sharpened head to batter another away, then grit my teeth as claws raked over my telekinetic shroud.


    I couldn¡¯t turn to my attacker as I was facing four more to my front. Instead, Promise rounded behind me, taking the beast in the head. In the meantime, I slammed my fist into the stone in front of me.


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    The sound spell¨Ca derivative of my sonic clap spell¨Ccaused the slick stone to tremble as shockwaves traveled through it. The tree demons in front of me, unable to stay latched onto the earth, fell with a screech.


    My arms burned from constant fighting. The terrible pain in my abdomen had faded to a low ache as I lost myself in the battle. I became like a machine: cut, push, dislodge, burn. As the rain fell, so too did these monsters. But I was tired. My mana was not endless. It recovered at a rapid rate, but I was using it far faster than it could regenerate.


    It carried on for hours as lightning cracked overhead like the whip of a taskmaster.


    I stumbled as a beast pulled on my leg. I was only anchored to this pillar by the glowing white telekinetic pull on my shoes. I almost tumbled and fell from that, but I brought my boot down on the wooden head, blowing it apart.


    When will it end?


    I thought, exhaustion clear even in my thoughts. I hadn¡¯t seen a change in the unending tide of beasts despite the hundreds I must have killed. My clothes were stained with their saplike bodily fluids, and my weapons had severed enough hands for a lifetime.


    I slipped as I weaved around a swipe, allowing one of the demonic tree creatures to get a hold of my foot. The grip snaked up my leg, anchoring itself around my telekinetic shroud and trying to drag me down.


    Fuck! I thought as I felt the telekinetic spell under my other foot giving way, the pulling force too much. I was about to retaliate with another spell, but then something changed.


    The rain stopped. The water, which had been coming down in a torrential flood ever since the start of this battle, ceased nearly immediately.


    And as the water streamed off the wooden demons, they halted in their movements as if turned to stone. The demons fell off the spire in droves, their fingers no longer gripping the outcroppings of earth. I was suddenly alone on the edge of the tall rock as the eyes of all the beasts nearby dimmed, turning closer to some sort of amber.


    I hesitantly looked at the land around me. It was then that I noticed something strange: the wicked white trees had shriveled and blackened over the course of the storm. I watched one as it fell away in smokey flakes, leaving an open space where once it stood.


    The beasts that collapsed in the forest began to change. Their forms shifted, their fingers and toes becoming roots as they anchored themselves into the earth. In moments, the near-empty expanse of hills was once again repopulated by gnarled white trees, each growing from the corpse of a tree demon.


    I looked up into the sky, breathing heavily as my adrenaline began to fade. I suddenly felt the wound in my side again in full force, each twist of my torso sending throbbing pain through my body.


    The tree demons that died near the road broke into dark dust, then nothing at all. I watched it all with wide, rabid eyes.


    It looked like nothing had happened at all. The trees repopulated. The monsters decayed. And it was all ready for another storm.


    I walked slowly down the spire, applying my telekinesis rune to lash my feet to the rock. When I reached the ground, which wasn¡¯t nearly as damp as it should have been, I collapsed against the stone.


    I didn¡¯t even sheathe Oath and Promise as I lethargically searched through my dimension ring for bandages. Once I got them out, I systematically covered my wound, inspecting it beforehand and painfully cleaning it of any mud or dirt. It was a bad cut, but it hadn¡¯t damaged any internal organs. It would leave a small scar as it healed over, though.


    ¡°I fucking hate trees,¡± I muttered as I nursed a bit of protein paste. First the Clarwood Forest, and now these. I didn¡¯t think I could ever hate skaunters again when compared to these demons.


    ¡°You are lucky to be alive,¡± Lady Dawn said from my side.


    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± I said aloud. I found it ironic to no end that if I had taken an ascending team with me into this zone, they likely wouldn¡¯t have survived. I only made it through because of my mobility. ¡°And I¡¯m willing to bet I¡¯m going to fight another wave when a storm next comes.¡±


    The phoenix looked out at the trees with a hint of disgust.


    ¡°Have you ever fought anything like these things?¡± I asked. I rested my head against the stone spire at my back and used Lady Dawn¡¯s voice as a beacon of warmth.


    ¡°No,¡± the phoenix said at once. ¡°These beasts are unnatural. Engineered lifeforms with a desire only to kill and propagate. If such beasts were left to the surface¡­¡±


    I shuddered as the thought ran through me. They would spread exponentially, like an infection. I absently wondered if the djinn could¡¯ve simply dropped one of these demon trees into the middle of the planet and utterly ruined it from a plague of wood.


    Arthur had noted how the Relictombs seemed dark. I thought at that moment that he was underselling it. These tree demons could be a world-ending plague. I withdrew a waterskin from my dimension ring, drinking from it deeply. For all the rain that had fallen, I was parched and dehydrated to all hell.


    ¡°Wake me up if anything tries to kill me, please,¡± I said groggily to my bond before I laid my head against the stone.


    I fell asleep in a few moments.


    ¡ª


    I woke up feeling far better than I had when I went to sleep. My core wasn¡¯t quite full, which meant I¡¯d been out for only a few hours. I¡¯d have to get a good night¡¯s sleep when I finally left the Relictombs.


    I gingerly stood, prodding at my gut wound. It hurt, but not as much as before. I looked along the dirt path, wondering when it would end. If it would end.


    I started down the path after a quick tube of protein paste and another drink of water. As I walked, I noticed there were some differences in the trees.


    As I moved onward, it seemed like the density of the horrid forest increased gradually. Where before I could see quite far into the forest off the side of the path, now I couldn¡¯t see a single yard in.


    Every now and then, a tall spire of stone rose along the side of the road. I noted them internally as I walked, knowing they were my only chance to survive in case of another storm.


    ¡°What exactly is lifeforce?¡± I asked my bond, the eerie silence unnerving me.


    Lady Dawn appeared a moment later, gliding along as I walked. She seemed to contemplate my question for a moment. ¡°Lifeforce is the Anchor,¡± she said slowly. ¡°It is what ties your soul to your Vessel. It is the glue that keeps the spiritual lashed to the physical.¡±


    The trees around me weren¡¯t pointing their branches at me whenever I looked away this time, which did wonders to settle my nerves. ¡°It¡¯s different from mana, yeah?¡± I asked, trying to understand. ¡°It¡¯s got to be an expression of aether, then.¡±


    The phoenix looked at me, her blazing eyes inscrutable. ¡°Every living body has a reserve of lifeforce. It is indeed fashioned of aether, but it is not the aether of the sky or the aether of the ground. The aether of the heart is lifeforce. It is what keeps our bodies moving.¡±


    ¡°And in my first phase, I can see this lifeforce?¡± I asked questioningly.


    The asura slowed slightly. ¡°It is a reflection of the arts of the Phoenix Clans. When our Fire begins to dim and our souls start to drift, we instead burn our Vessels. And when the lifeforce that remains flares, we Sculpt our forms anew, using the embers to spark another blaze. The phoenixes have always had closer ties to the Soul¡¯s Tether than any other race. But your ability to see and sense lifeforce is unnatural, even among the Asclepius clan.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°How so?¡±


    The asura raised her purplish arms again. ¡°My last Vessel was not just that of a phoenix. The change¡­ altered what was possible, in ways I did not expect.¡±


    I exhaled, thinking about the ability to rise from the fire. It was so out of my own experience that it seemed wondrous. ¡°It sounds amazing, being able to reform your bodies in the way you do. What is it like?¡±


    The asura tilted her head, a faraway look in the suns that were her eyes. ¡°A phoenix¡¯s First Sculpting marks their majority. Once you have been purged in the flame, you arise with new wisdom and status in our society. Not all make it through the trial, but those that do are welcomed as full members of the Clans.¡± She turned away from me slightly. ¡°But to feel your Flame slowly assemble a new Vessel is something that cannot be described. One can never know themselves as intimately as a phoenix that builds itself back from the grip of Beyond will. For we must make no mistakes. If there is the slightest inconsistency; the briefest of slips, then our Anchor will fail, and we will die in truth.¡± I listened with rapt attention as the once-deity continued. ¡°The surety of purpose, the all-encompassing oneness with the soul¡­¡± She shook her head. ¡°I am afraid I cannot describe it to you with words, Contractor, and for that, I am truly sorry. It is something wondrous beyond ken.¡±


    I felt the surety and regret in my bond¡¯s words. And as I walked through the forest of hell, I wondered what that slice of heaven must feel like.

 Chapter 66: The Fruit of Labor

    Toren Daen


    I used the downtime I had to grow more accustomed to the Will. I didn¡¯t mesh with it as I had before: instead, I inspected it with my mind, seeing the metaphysical divots, dips, and crests in the runes etched into the outer layer of my core.


    Keeping my metaphorical eye trained on the runes made my mind burn after too long. I had to look away, or else my brain would be seared by the pressure it exuded.


    ¡°You must be patient with this power,¡± Lady Dawn chided as I lurched away from my corespace, having been staring for too long. ¡°Your mind is not accustomed to the strain. You must learn to accept the Will in a gradual melding.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a tricky process,¡± I said. I had taken to speaking out loud in this zone instead of using mental communication. The utter silence of the forest unnerved me. Lady Dawn, thankfully, allowed me this simple act, even though she normally insisted on talking through our bond. ¡°It¡¯s difficult to keep myself separate when I grow closer to it. It¡¯s like¡­ a magnet, being drawn to my mind as I grow closer.¡±


    The asura glided over the mud, her dress not picking up a speck of dirt. I, however, was absolutely covered in grime. ¡°You will learn in time. The Will¡¯s purpose is to pass down its insight. To grant the next generation its vast wealth of knowledge. So it seeks a mind with which to meld.¡±


    The forest hadn¡¯t changed since the end of my pitched battle several hours ago. I spotted a few tall spires dotting the forest as I continued on, however. Those were the only islands amidst the sea of white trees.


    I looked up at the sky once more. The clouds had begun to build again, but the cover was far from where it had been when the storm struck. I was starting to get a picture of how this zone operated: as water evaporated into the atmosphere, it created clouds. Once those clouds grew dense enough, a storm was triggered, which would send water cascading down to the forest below.


    And the trees would greedily devour the water, lapping at it like a beast. And as the water suffused their roots, their fruits would drop, sending tree demons to propagate the cycle more.


    I turned my focus inward once more. One of the things I knew I needed to be careful about was my latent Vritra heritage. When I got too close to the Will, I began to feel it stirring, scales and wings shifting against the confines of my mind. It was dormant, but the light was its anathema. Whenever it felt like I had prodded the beast too much, I would back off quickly, allowing it to fall back into slumber.


    ¡°Your Vritra heritage clashes with the fire of my Will,¡± the asura said, sensing my thoughts. ¡°We will have to find a way to suppress this alteration. Or perhaps purge it entirely, if that is possible.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Couldn¡¯t there be a way to have these two work together?¡± I asked. The powers one could get from Vritra heritage were diverse and powerful. ¡°It¡¯s another avenue of power, after all.¡±


    ¡°Do not let yourself be tempted by the beast within you,¡± my bond said with a hint of venom. ¡°The basilisks and phoenix races are as opposed as one can be. There is no harmony between us. No unity. They are snakes that slither on the ground, sprouting false wings to try and take the skies. But the skies are the domain of the phoenix, and for this, we will never relent. The basilisks decay and destroy with every touch, while our arts build something from nothing.¡± The phoenix shook her head. ¡°No, the beast within you is a poison. It will slowly kill you once you start to utilize the Will unless something is done.¡±


    I looked down at my sternum. I could feel my core there, shining with internal light. I didn¡¯t want to agree with my bond. The condemnation was so final.


    ¡°Is there something that can be done?¡± I asked. ¡°To suppress my Vritra blood?¡±


    The asura¡¯s eyes seemed to dim as she looked at me from over her shoulder. ¡°There may be.¡±


    ¡ª


    The storm clouds began to gather again after another day of walking. This time I didn¡¯t wait for the rain to fall. I bolted for a spire I saw looming in the distance, running for all I was worth.


    The horde was worse this time. It seemed impossible, but I was certain there were more tree demons this time. The spire I was on was also shorter, making it easier for the monsters to pile atop each other to reach me.


    But I also had experience facing these creatures. Amidst the pouring rain, I knew what would work to kill them more efficiently. Instead of always going for killing blows, I focused on wide-area attacks that disrupted the grips and hold of my foes. I was able to cling to walls like a discount Spiderman, or perhaps a budget-bin Naruto, but the wooden monsters had no such advantages.


    I ended the night with a jagged cut on my thigh and a slightly sprained left wrist from where one of the beasts had wrenched my hand to the side. My abdomen still hurt, but not as badly as before.


    I cinched the wrapping around my thigh, gritting my teeth as I cut the extra cloth. Damn, I thought, testing my weight on the leg. The pain wasn¡¯t the worst I experienced. I¡¯d be able to run if I absolutely needed to.


    I was leaning against the stone tower that had kept me alive, surveying the landscape. It was much the same once again: after the original trees had withered, the demons left behind settled their roots and became the next generation.


    I was certain that despite my experience of facing the wave a second time I would eventually be overwhelmed by these creatures. All it would take was one slip on the rock for me to tumble into the white sea, where I would be devoured alive.


    Then my eyes caught on a shine in the mud. I frowned, walking toward the sparkle. A bit of sharp pain shot through my leg every time I put weight on it, but I forcefully dismissed the sensation.


    I knelt down in the mud, wiping away the grime from the sparkling object. When I finally identified it, I recoiled in shock.


    It was a gun. I didn¡¯t know much about firearms, but I recognized it as something approaching a Glock. It was clearly a semiautomatic pistol of some sort, but it looked strange in places. The grip was a bit too elongated, and the barrel too short. I thought the trigger might¡¯ve been placed farther away from the grip than was necessary.


    I gingerly knelt down, picking up the instrument. There was no magazine loaded, and when I pointed the gun back the way I came and pulled the trigger, I knew there was no bullet chambered.


    I looked at the chromic material. I was certain it was designed to mimic the guns of my previous life, especially considering my discovery of the coffee can in the desert zone.


    But what did it mean? Were the Relictombs trying to create things from my previous life? Was it a kind of call to me? Or were these items taken directly from a parallel dimension of some sort?


    ¡°This appears to have deeply unsettled you,¡± Lady Dawn said as I stared at the weapon in my hands. ¡°But I do not understand why.¡±


    ¡°This looks like a mimicry of one of the weapons of my previous life,¡± I said after a moment, still staring at the gun. It had a sort of pristine elegance, but that was offset by the slightly disproportionate features.


    Like somebody had tried to sculpt a handgun from memory.


    ¡°You could point this at something,¡± I said, settling my stance and aiming at one of the trees, ¡°And pull the trigger. A tiny projectile of metal would fire from this a couple of times faster than the speed of sound, ripping apart anything it hit. Like a crossbow, but far smaller and infinitely more deadly. And these didn¡¯t have to reload like a crossbow. We had weapons that could fire hundreds of these metal bullets per minute.¡±


    The phoenix tilted her head, inspecting the weapon critically. ¡°And you say your old world did not have a form of energy to manipulate?¡±


    I sighed, storing the pseudo-gun in my dimension ring. Would I find more of these strange creations? What did it mean? ¡°We did not. Our warfare was dominated by fighting from afar, gunning faceless enemies down.¡±


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    The asura raised her own arm, inspecting it with an inscrutable look.


    ¡°What are you thinking?¡± I asked, desperate for something to sidetrack my mind.


    ¡°I contemplate the differences between civilizations across dimensions, Contractor. I wonder how the djinn managed their peaceful society for so long,¡± she replied solemnly.


    In my previous world, I thought the djinni society was an impossibility. How could an entire civilization be peaceful for over five millennia? When human nature was so wrapped up in innate tribalism and pitting one against the other, how did they maintain such pacifism?


    But the djinn weren¡¯t just a nice little bit of worldbuilding by TurtleMe. They had truly existed, flourishing with their aether arts and improving the lives of all. When the hours grew long, I asked myself how an entire people could maintain such peace.


    I suppose it was impossible, though, I thought a bit cynically. They were destroyed nearly to a man in the greatest genocide I¡¯ve ever heard of. All because of a jealous warlord.


    How ironic was it that I understood Kezess Indrath¡¯s psyche better than the mortals he genocided?


    ¡°Maybe one day you¡¯ll get your answer,¡± I said a bit quietly. Then I turned toward the path, determined to start anew.


    I didn¡¯t walk anymore. Before, I had moved slowly to conserve my energy. Now I ran, using bursts of light telekinesis to propel me onward. My leg seared with every impact, but I couldn¡¯t afford to take things slow anymore. I might survive the next wave of tree demons. I might even conquer the one after that. But I would eventually be overwhelmed.


    The white trees blurred by as I kept a steady yet hurried pace forward. I hadn¡¯t noticed it when I was keeping a more leisurely pace, but now that I was sprinting, I noticed that the path had a slight upward incline. I was gradually ascending a hill of some sort. The only question, then, was what was at the top of the hill.


    The trees seemed to glare at me as I moved, their malice palpable even in their immobile forms. I kept an eye on the sky, wary of gathering storm clouds. I thought the sky was darkening even faster than before, but it may have just been my paranoia.


    And finally, I crested the edge. I slowed as I saw the path ahead leveling out, coming to an end. The trees became more sparse as I finally reached the top until there was an entirely blank spot of earth.


    Stone blocks surrounded the end of the path, creating an almost ritualistic pattern. I spotted the exit portal, shimmering an inviting purple in the darkness. But my attention was immediately drawn to something at the center of the stone circle.


    A giant fruit was planted in the ground, bulbous and red as crimson. It was easily as tall as I, something that gave me pause. The color shifted and moved like something was pressing against the inside, causing the skin of the fruit to stretch in strange ways. It looked like worms trying to burst from the inside, which made my stomach queasy just from watching.


    Before I could dart for the portal, something finally broke through the skin of the fruit. A pale white arm thrust outward, dripping in reddish sap as it ripped open its prison. Bit by bit, the creature clawed its way out of the enormous fruit, snarling all the way. The sound reminded me of the thunder that had sounded not so long ago.


    And then the thing was free. It looked somewhat like the tree demons, except it was easily five times their height. Its arms were corded with wooden muscle as they hung down to its ankles, and the demon¡¯s elongated, sharp jaw twitched erratically. Four sap-red eyes stared from the front of its misshapen skull.


    And it slowly turned to look at me, centered in the middle of the piled stones like some sort of god called by a ritual. The beast stood between me and the shimmering purple portal. It had a sort of slouched posture, leaning on its rigid arms.


    I drew Oath as the beast screamed, making all the trees around me rustle in an invisible breeze. It rushed me with a speed I wouldn¡¯t have thought possible with such misshapen limbs, swinging its gangly arm at me in a clawed uppercut.


    I barely brought Oath between the attack, the red-layered metal creaking as I was launched into the air. The blow traveled all the way up my arm, making my shoulder ache from the effort.


    I quickly drew Promise with my sprained hand, the movements of my fingers twitchy and awkward as I tossed the dagger straight at the beast below me. It responded by swatting the steel out of the air, then it screamed once more at me.


    Except this time, a barrage of white splinters streamed from its maw. I hastily thrust out my hand, sending out a guttering barrage of fire to intercept the attack. They collided midair as I began to fall back down, flame burning the wood to ash.


    But the beast had a cunning to it. As I fell toward the earth once more, it began to line up a punch toward where I would land. One of its arms twisted inward, its fingers elongating and sharpening as the entire arm became a blade.


    It swung at me at the perfect time. But what it didn¡¯t expect was my telekinetic pushes and pulls, allowing me to reorient just before the blow would land. The sword-like arm sheared a few locks of hair from my head as it passed right in front of my eyes.


    Exhaling lightly, I immediately countered, Oath burning with fire mana. I brought it in an upward cut, aiming at the overextended wooden arm.


    My blade sunk several inches into the white wood, spraying reddish sap. The beast screeched in pain, something I relished. It wrenched its arm back, though, and hauled me with it.


    I tried to yank my weapon free, but it was lodged deeply into the wood. I saw something flashing toward me in my peripheral vision, and I had to let go of my blade. I brought my arms in a cross in front of my face right before impact.


    My telekinetic shroud shattered around my forearms, blowing me backward. My body clipped one of the stones surrounding the beast, sending me into a tumble in the dirt. I quickly began to adjust my balance on instinct, getting my feet under me before I was done skidding over the ground.


    Promise returned to my grip, my telekinesis rune drawing it toward me. Back to the basics, then? I thought with gritted teeth. The bones of my arm ached from that single blow, and if I was using only a mana shroud, I was sure they¡¯d be broken beyond repair. A splotch of purple was spreading around the spot I¡¯d been hit, a deep bruise soaking into the flesh.


    The demon threw back its arms, howling its defiance at me. Oath was still lodged in its arm, but it didn¡¯t seem to care as it came barreling toward me.


    I used a telekinetic pull on one of the tall ritual stones, rocketing me toward the creature. I engaged my telekinesis to dip under its attack like the wind, swinging my dagger against its side as I shot past. It screeched in pain, but I wasn¡¯t done.


    I pulled on one of the tall, flat stones, then twisted midair so my feet impacted it. I shot off the rock with a boom, zipping toward the creature, which was turning toward me. Its arm shifted again, becoming a large shield to block my path.


    I smirked. This creature was fast; faster than I had expected. But I was still faster and far more agile. I pushed against the ground in a flare of white telekinesis, vaulting over the beast and blasting a handful of fireshot down at its head as I flipped over its body. The creature tried to bring its shield arm in front of its face but was only partially successful. Unrelenting, I landed on the ground, the giant tree demon stumbling from the shot to its twisted maw. It was twice as tall as I was when it straightened its back, but right now it looked just as confused as any animal.


    With barely another second to calculate, I launched myself back at the creature. I skidded underneath its legs, drawing Promise across its ankles with a roar. The beast fell to its knees, putting the handle of Oath¨Cwhose edge still kissed the demon¡¯s flesh¨Cright in front of me.


    Using the momentum from sliding through the monster¡¯s legs, I yanked on the handle of my saber. It ripped free with a spray of reddish sap and a howl of pain. Unwilling to let the opening close, I focused mana into both of my weapons, a thrumming red edge accompanying the usual sharpness.


    In one fluid motion, I crossed the blades in front of me and then swung them in opposite directions. They scissored through the already damaged arm, my blades scything through wood better than an axe ever could. The severed arm fell into the mud with a wet plop, the gnarly wooden limb finally gone. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The beast screeched, flailing wildly as I cut off its arm. I danced backward, clenching and unclenching my left hand. The wrist was still sprained, even with my accelerated healing. The move I¡¯d just pulled off had exacerbated the damage.


    But the demon boss wasn¡¯t done yet. It huddled in on itself, layers and layers of bleached wood erupting around it like a cocoon. I stared at the small construction, confused. It looked almost like the bud of a flower, except it was over ten feet tall.


    Then I snarled. I wasn¡¯t going to let that thing hide. I let go of Promise, letting it float in the air beside me. Then I focused on Oath, running my left hand over the blade. I concentrated fire and sound mana so that the blade vibrated and burned all at once. Then I readied my stance, preparing to charge at the makeshift bunker the creature had created for itself.


    The option was taken from me when the cocoon exploded, kicking up mud and making the ground tremble. White shards of wood shot toward me like shrapnel. I hastily let my spells fade from my cutting edge, instead bringing up my left hand and pushing out with a barrier of telekinesis.


    Most of the shards that reached my pushing white barrier were diverted away from me, arcing into the sky or cutting into the dirt. A few weren¡¯t changed enough, but Promise flew from its perch near my shoulder to intercept and cut through most of those. Only a few actually cracked against my telekinetic shroud.


    I made it through the barrage unscathed, but I was panting slightly from the mental exertion. When I looked at where the cocoon used to be, I swallowed heavily. The creature had undergone a metamorphosis in that cocoon. It had white, batlike wings stretching from its back. Red sap dripped from the sharp tips of the wings, evidence of how they had burst from the wooden flesh.


    The demon seemed to have gained a foot or two of height, but the biggest change was in the beast¡¯s veins. I could now see faint, shimmering red glowing through the wooden exterior of the demon. I felt a wave of pressure from it that made me take a step backward. Its arm had regrown, a deeper gray instead of the pristine off-white of the rest of its body.


    The demon¡¯s four beady red eyes glared at me with uncontested hatred.


    In the clouds far above, a thunderstorm began to condense.

 Chapter 67: Waters of Hell

    Toren Daen


    I didn¡¯t even see the next attack before it blew me away. I smashed through one of the stone pillars, obliterating the rock from the force. My telekinetic shroud shattered around my ribs as the blow impacted, and my vision winked in and out as the stone crumbled over my body.


    I wasn¡¯t even lying in the stones for a second before a hand speared through the rubble, latching onto my leg. It gripped hard enough to make my bones creak, then yanked me from the stone.


    The colossal tree demon held me upside down with a single arm, which was easily twice as long as I was tall. Its wings were spread wide, and instead of slouching as it had before, it stood at its full, horrible height. Dust fell from my body as I hung.


    I swung my hand upward, a burst of fireshot leaving my palm in a flare of white. The spells peppered the creature¡¯s face, flashes of orange bursts popping in pockmarks as my solid flame burst over its skin.


    The wooden monstrosity tanked my fireshot like the solidified fire was no more than dust. For the first time, I sensed a hint of intelligence in the creature¡¯s gaze as it intentionally took my attack head-on. The only sign I had damaged it was slight darkening around its four red eyes. The creature snarled, raising its other hand and clenching it into a fist.


    Oh, shit, I thought, seeing what was coming. I felt my eyes widen as the beast reared back, ready to punch my prone form.


    I used my telekinetic pull on the creature¡¯s fingers, trying to wrench them apart just a little. If that monster¡¯s fist hit me while I was held fast like this, it might rip off my leg. I pulled and pulled as the creature seemed to revel in my panic.


    Just in time, I added an extra force of power around the demon¡¯s grip. The wooden fingers loosened just a fraction.


    And then the fist hit me square in the sternum, right over my core. I felt my vision go white as I screamed, my body rocketing away. My foot pulled free of the monster¡¯s grasp, the weakened grip allowing it to slip free. Instead of ripping my leg off, I felt it wrench out of its socket.


    My body skipped on the dirt as I rolled. I skidded for a few steps, my body finally coming to a stop at the base of one of the ritual stones.


    It took a moment to fight through the pain. It was hard to think. My vision swam, thoughts coming in spurts. I coughed up a mouthful of blood, the crimson liquid dripping down my chin and staining my leather armor.


    Something in my chest is definitely broken. At least a few ribs, the clinical part of me said distantly. Your hip popped back into place almost immediately after it was wrenched out.


    That¡­ that was good. I thought so. It was kind of hard to think. I looked up at the sky.


    The blackened clouds were condensing, a crack of lightning crossing the sky. The world became dark as if it were night, the encroaching storm blotting out the light. Soon rain would fall, bringing with it the tide of demons.


    I need to end this fast. Before the rain falls, I thought.


    I groggily pulled myself to my feet, stumbling when putting weight on my leg. My hip had been dislocated a second before, and a deep gash still marked my thigh.


    The demon was making a sound as it watched me from afar, somewhere between a tree crashing to the ground and a rustle of leaves. The reddish veins that traced their way under its white wood skin flashed with each sound.


    It was laughing at me, I realized after a bewildered second. The monster was playing with me like a cat does its food.


    Okay, you bastard, I thought, pulling myself up straight. You want to play dirty? We can play dirty.


    I looked inward, my mind feathering against my core.


    ¡°Are you certain, Contractor?¡±


    Lady Dawn asked, sensing my intent.


    I am.


    ¡°So be it,¡± my bond said.


    I let the Will meld with my mind, feeling the rush of knowledge and insight as it thrummed through my veins. It felt like a warm, mellow sugar rush. The energy wasn¡¯t jittery or bursting: instead, it was steady and constant. The first phase of my Phoenix Will bolstered my understanding of mana manyfold, a drop of the Asclepius Clan¡¯s millennia of practice injected directly into my mana channels. It was a mother¡¯s warm embrace, pushing me forward.


    And suddenly, I understood. I remembered all that had slipped my thoughts from when I had released the Will a day ago.


    A small orb of deep red plasma appeared in my hands. I used the vibrations of sound mana to agitate the fire mana particles, causing them to heat to a point where the particles did a pseudo-ionization.


    The red chain tattoo on my left arm shone a bright crimson through my sleeve, seeming to superimpose itself over the sleeve, a projection of power seeming to float over the fabric and leather.


    I looked up at the beast. The pressure it exuded felt like a paltry breeze against my skin, not worth noticing. A plume of red heartfire danced in the monster¡¯s chest. And beyond this clearing, a million more flares of lifeforce marked each and every tree.


    I took a step, limping slightly as I trudged forward. The monster took a single step back, pushed by the pressure I exuded. Thunder rumbled overhead.


    The mana swirled at my implicit command, the rune on my lower back a tether of warmth.


    ¡°It fears you, Toren Daen,¡± Lady Dawn whispered into my ear, a phantom touch of her hand on my shoulder. ¡°Show this monstrosity why that dread is deserved.¡±


    My telekinesis rune latched onto Oath and Promise, which I had dropped when the first blow had flung me into the stone pillar. They were forty feet away, nearly double my usual telekinetic range.


    But now, I saw how the rune dipped and weaved through ambient mana. I knew how my intent spread across the atmosphere, conjuring spells and pushes and pulls.


    Oath and Promise moved in an outline of white, both weapons hovering by my head.


    ¡°Come on, beast,¡± I hissed, pointing at it with a finger. ¡°Mock me again.¡±


    It screeched, throwing its unwieldy limbs to the side. Its wings flared, a reddish tint to the connecting skin I hadn¡¯t seen before. Then it moved toward me at absurd speed, seeking to blitz me as it had before.


    But my eyes stayed locked on the lifeforce burning in its chest. It couldn¡¯t hide that flame from my sight.


    I fired a beam of deep red plasma from my finger, the laserlike blast trailing a thin line of heat to the accelerating monster.


    It lurched to the side, barely avoiding the plasma. It punched a coin-sized hole in its wing membrane, making the beast shriek in defiance. It continued to charge toward me, its colossal wingspan casting a long shadow in the dirt.


    I flipped over the monster as it swiped at me, avoiding the blow. My torso hurt as I moved, but the refreshing warmth of the Will allowed me to push through.


    I built up a quick burst of telekinesis, shoving my spell against the creature¡¯s face. Its head cracked back, a shower of splinters spraying from where I¡¯d attacked. Oath and Promise whizzed around me, deflecting another of the beast¡¯s attacks in a shower of sparks.


    I pressed my palm against the tree demon¡¯s sternum, a buildup of plasma in my hand.


    ¡°Payback, bastard,¡± I whispered, letting my spell detonate as I thrust my palm forward.


    A plume of red plasma flung the twelve-foot monstrosity across the clearing, skipping against the ground twice and spraying dirt. But the monster flapped its wings, quickly getting itself under control.


    I looked up at the sky, squinting my eyes. I probably only had a minute or two to end this.


    The creature, thinking I was distracted, began to flap its wings. The creature soared toward me, even faster than when it ran.


    It didn¡¯t make a difference. As it neared me, I sent Oath and Promise forward, spinning the metal to shear at the monster¡¯s leg. The blades cut right through the short appendage, throwing off the tree demon¡¯s balance.


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    As it neared me, swinging its arms at me frantically, I weaved to the side, building up a telekinetic push and a sphere of plasma along my knuckles. Then I swung my fist at the monster¡¯s face, trying to destroy its head. Because it had been flying toward me in a horizontal position, my attack was perfectly poised to add another exploded cranium to my ever-growing list.


    This will be it, I thought, my fist traveling toward the monster¡¯s four beady eyes.


    My leg, however, betrayed me. When I tried to plant my foot, twisting with the power of a contained gale, my leg¨Calready dislocated once and with a deep cut in the thigh¨Cshifted to the side, unable to handle the forced weight.


    My fist hit the creature¡¯s shoulder instead. The eruption of my blow went off like a grenade, splintering white wood and blowing a hole as large as my head in the beast¡¯s collar. It hit the dirt, writhing there for a moment.


    And then the rain began to fall. I looked at the sky, alarmed. My estimates had been off significantly.


    I looked at the forest around me, watching as the red fires in each tree gradually dimmed, sparks investing themselves into the multiple glowing fruits on their boughs. When the fruits dropped from the white, grasping hands of the trees onto the dead grass of the forest floor, the parent plant withered, curling in on itself and greying.


    So that¡¯s why they wither, I thought with a macabre sense of wonder. Their lifeforce transfers to their fruits, allowing them to propagate and spread beyond their bounds, but they sacrifice their own vitality to do so.


    My brief distraction allowed the boss demon to recover, pulling itself from the muddy dirt. The raindrops seemed to rejuvenate it, the hole in its shoulder slowly knitting back together as it stood tall once more. Its leg was slowly recovering from the stump as well, but that was noticeably slower.


    It spread its wings, shrieking at me before launching into the sky. The monster had some sort of intelligence: it clearly recognized fighting me face-on was a death sentence, so it instead took to the air.


    It flapped its batlike wings, glaring at me with undiluted malice from up above. The rain cascaded down its wings, a faint outline in the thunderstorm. It screeched at me, a familiar attack forming around its maw. Sharp needles accented with red lines shot toward me in a flock, swarming toward me with deadly precision.


    I planted my feet as the stream of projectiles approached, using a pull of telekinesis as they grew near. I latched onto the flow of needles, turning around as I moved my arms in tune with the flow. The attack, held in a centrifugal force by my telekinetic pull, moved with me as I rotated before I threw the entire attack back at the monster in the sky.


    I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that without the Will supporting my understanding of ambient mana. It was a complex redirection of force that would¡¯ve taken all of my concentration before, but now Lady Dawn supported my thoughts.


    Though I briefly saw the boss demon plummeting from the sky with a deathly howl, I didn¡¯t get a chance to see the effect of the redirected white splinters in detail.


    ¡°They come,¡± my bond alerted me. ¡°The beasts of the forest seek your blood.¡±


    A quick glance showed the horde approaching me at speed, the tide seeking to overwhelm me and tear me apart.


    Oath and Promise settled over my shoulder, hovering statically. I raised my hands, drawing my fingers over the edges. They glowed with a brilliant white light as I infused the steel with spells, before sending them off with a wave of my arms. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The blades shot off in opposite directions, then rotated around me like the arms of a compass. Their blades dug into the wet mud, and wherever the steel scored, a wall of fire erupted. The flames tall stood in defiance of the downpour, burning bright despite the deluge. I was surrounded on all sides by a barrier of fire that stretched twenty feet into the air.


    And then the horde struck. Some of them threw themselves at the fire, charred corpses slumping out the other end. Others tested the blaze with their hands, losing their limbs in the process in shrieks.


    But I was safe from the horde, at least for a few moments. I refocused, spotting the downed aether beast. Its wing membrane had been shredded by my return salvo, but it was reknitting itself slowly. The flesh regrew like paper, slowly closing the gap until it was impossible to tell the injury ever happened.


    That was when the beast within began to wake. I felt it there, stirring under the burning sunlight of my will. Massive coils of flesh and scale slowly shifted, pressing against the confines of my mind.


    I stumbled, feeling my grasp on my first phase shift. My glowing red tattoo dimmed.


    ¡°Do not let your focus wane,¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice feathered across my ear and through my mind. I grasped those words, holding on with two metaphorical hands. I heaved, hauling myself back to a stable state of mind. The trembling of my Will subsided as I reasserted control.


    Just in time for a fist to crash against my jaw. My body twisted with the blow, sending me spinning across the clearing. My telekinetic shroud held against the strike, but crystalline cracks shot through with red stretched across my jaw.


    And I was soaring straight toward my barrier of fire. I could sense things dying as they threw themselves at the flames, their charbroiled corpses tumbling out the other end. It was a constant, immense drain on my reserves.


    And if I was sent out of that barrier, I would die.


    I pulled on the ground in front of me with telekinesis, abruptly changing my momentum. My feet slammed into the ground, the tremor sending a jolt up my leg and causing it to buckle. I dug a short furrow in the dirt as I skidded, but I was inside my barrier.


    The corpses continued to pile in, the tree demons ravenous for my flesh. The fire was beginning to waver, the endless waves of bodies and torrential rain battering at its mana.


    I exhaled steam from my mouth, refocusing on the tree demon boss. It was hovering in the air a distance away, watching me as my telekinetic shroud slowly repaired the damage it had done.


    I would finish this now.


    I started by sending forth a dozen balls of solid plasma, aiming for the creature¡¯s wings once more. Unwilling to be damaged in the same way, the monster threw up a thick wall of white wood, attempting to block the attack.


    My plasmashot moved through the material like it wasn¡¯t even there, searing the monster¡¯s wing. Instead of the membrane, however, the solidified plasma cut straight through the supporting wood. The beast fell from the air for the second time, hurling a large spear of white wood that grew from its palm.


    Lady Dawn breathed suggestions and options to me in that split second. I could try and redirect the spear, as I had the barrage of projectiles from before. That probably wouldn¡¯t work. I could throw an attack to meet the spear in midair, canceling it out. I could simply dodge out of the way.


    But my bond¡¯s advice pushed me closer to an answer. As I internally proposed the idea, she ratified it and spurned me onward.


    All of this happened in less than a second.


    I pulled on the spear as it approached, using it to accelerate my momentum forward. I flipped sideways over the spear, which bristled with sharp splinters and reddish lines. I had to weave around another two projectiles, one coming worryingly close to my already wounded leg.


    I grit my teeth. I needed to distract it. Keep it off balance so I could move in for the kill.


    Oath and Promise came at the beast from the side. It threw up its arms, trying to ward off the weapons with barrages of needles that sprouted from its palms. The weapons snaked around the streams like buzzing flies, darting in like wasps to sting and buzz away.


    The creature roared, clearly feeling panicked as I closed the distance. I was overwhelming it from every angle: it couldn¡¯t focus on me, or my blades would reap their due. It couldn¡¯t focus on the blades, or I would snuff out the fire in its chest.


    ¡°Its legs are short and weak, Toren Daen. This creature knows nothing of balance or grace,¡± Lady Dawn said from within my mind. Her voice; her emotions, her everything felt closer than it ever had. My mind was a ship, coasting on the vast ocean of her thoughts.


    I understand, I replied. The words were a formality; simply a way to convey promise. I could see my bond¡¯s idea in her mind, projected as if it were the world¡¯s most detailed painting.


    I jumped when I got close enough, vaulting over the monster. It was faced to the side, trying to push away Oath, whose blade had erupted with fire. When it saw me near, it tried to turn, flaring its slowly regenerating wing, but it was too late. As I passed the apex of my arc, I thrust my hand out behind me. Two telekinetic effects engaged: I pushed on the back of the towering tree demon¡¯s knee, while simultaneously pulling on the monster¡¯s face.


    I yanked my hand down, flaring my pull. The monster¡¯s screech cut off as its knee buckled and my telekinetic pull slammed the back of its head into the mud. Water and sludge burst as the creature did an impressive imitation of a scorpion, its back bending in an awkward way.


    My attention was briefly distracted by the way the beast¡¯s heartflame flickered. A small, trembling mote of the fire separated from the source, traveling along the creature¡¯s prominent, reddish veins. And then those embers coalesced around the face, which had a prominent gouge from my rough telekinesis.


    The damage began to heal as the sparks reached the head, snapping me out of my awe. Oath returned to my hand. I funneled my mana into it, and the edge burst in red plasma. Under the grim darkness of the thunderstorm, my blade burned with the same color as my tattoo.


    The monster swiped at me from the ground, trying to gore me with arms twice the length of my body. My plasma-edged Oath intercepted the attack, searing through the limbs in an easy sweep. The monster screamed its defiance, a thin tendril of wood erupting from its mouth. The plant tried to gore me, but Promise streaked from the side, cutting the tendril in two.


    My next attack severed the monster¡¯s head. There was no spray of red sap: my blade cauterized where it cut.


    I watched with bated breath as the heartfire in the beast¡¯s body snuffed out. There was something terribly final, watching a living creature¡¯s vitality drift away in such an intimate manner.


    ¡°And it is done,¡± Lady Dawn said. I found it strange how such pointed thoughts simply punctuated my bond¡¯s actual emotions. How could a person be so in tune with another?


    But it was then that my barrier spell finally failed. A wave of tree demons as tall as I was barreled through the finally breached wall of fire, beady red eyes and burning wood calling for death.


    And the basilisk within reared. It wasn¡¯t just agitated by the light cast by my Will. It sensed the bloodlust all around me, pressing in like a tide. It relished that; drew on it in a way I didn¡¯t understand.


    It almost opened an eye¨C


    I shoved the Will away from me in haste, feeling my bond¡¯s mind drift away from mine. It left a yawning emptiness in its place. I stumbled toward the portal, my legs trembling from exhaustion and pain. Oath and Promise sheathed themselves at my side as I worked up the mental effort to slam my telekinesis against the ground.


    The tide of monsters drew closer as I rushed for the portal, tripping and kicking up dirt as I went. Forty feet, thirty feet, twenty, ten-


    The portal was so close, and yet the monsters were hot on my tail. I had to duck as one of the monsters threw another at me, the mess of twisted limbs nearly bowling me over.


    Instead, I used the monster as a springboard, launching myself in a burst of fire and telekinesis toward the portal. The last thing I saw as the purple enveloped me were the hateful eyes of the aether beasts.


    And a single lamp designed to mimic those of my previous life beside the portal frame where I had missed it before.

 Chapter 68: Platforms

    Toren Daen


    I sat cross-legged on a white platform in an endless purple expanse. This zone had no sky, no sun, and nothing resembling the waking world.


    Promise floated near where I tied off a bandage. When I cinched it tight, wincing at the slight stroke of pain, my glowing dagger glided smoothly in, cutting off the bare excess of white cloth.


    I was going to have another scar on my arm when that healed. Thankfully, it wouldn¡¯t debilitate me in a fight, but I wondered when my body would have more scar tissue than normal skin.


    ¡°Your mastery of the First Phase has improved dramatically,¡± my bond commented, staring out into the purple nothingness. It fascinated and unnerved the asura in equal measure, where I simply dissociated until such things didn¡¯t bother me anymore.


    Coming from another world tended to have that effect on your ability to suspend disbelief.


    ¡°I can¡¯t use it too often, though,¡± I said, flexing my hand. The leather of my gloves creaked as I clenched and unclenched my fists. The red washed out of them surprisingly easily, considering how many times I¡¯d bled on them. Though there was a faint tinge that I couldn¡¯t remove anymore. ¡°My basilisk blood remains close to the surface. If I use the Will in succession too many times, it¡¯s sure to wake.¡±


    I usually waited a few days between uses of my Will and only engaged the Acquire Phase when absolutely necessary. I¡¯d been in this zone for a couple of weeks so far, traveling from platform to platform.


    It was the same zone Arthur had traveled through soon after the creation of his aether core. These were the same platforms that brought forth the creation of the Destruction rune and allowed Regis to gain a corporeal form.


    At least I thought it was the same. Some of the platforms differed slightly from the description. Did that mean this was a different zone, or did it simply adapt to my presence?


    ¡°And your use of the Will is¡­ partial as well, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn said. ¡°Akin to a man who uses an axe only to cut down foes, rather than fell a tree.¡±


    The phoenix watched as a paper poster drifted in the endless aetheric expanse past my glowing white platform. It was far enough away that I would be unable to reach it, even with telekinesis.


    The words on the front read ¡®Fall Out Boy,¡¯ and the men displayed clearly resembled the members of the band. Except there were tiny details wrong: a nose a bit too large, a smile too thin, a hairstyle out of place. It was as if the band were drawn from memory.


    I¡¯d gotten used to random objects that looked like they¡¯d be from Earth drifting in the aetheric atmosphere after the first week, where they popped up every couple of days. This one still threw me for a loop. Patrick Stump had an absolutely appalling bowl cut in that poster, and I was nearly certain that the lead singer for Fall Out Boy never wore such an atrocity against nature.


    If he did, I¡¯d have to stop humming Centuries to myself when I cut through hordes of aether beasts.


    I shook away my bewilderment at the image. ¡°What am I missing, then?¡± I asked, taking a glance at the next platform. It hovered in a seemingly endless void, a few shimmering steps of solidified aether inviting me to follow. They followed a predictable pattern: white, red, orange, blue, then black. I¡¯d just managed to kill the boss monster on my sixth black platform.


    ¡°The full goal of the Will is to assimilate the knowledge into yourself, much as you assimilate mana into your muscles, bones, and organs. You disperse this to your very being, instead of using the knowledge of countless phoenixes as a power boost.¡±


    I rolled that knowledge around in my mind for a moment. Maybe when I get to a place where I can afford to meditate, I said. I¡¯d made it out of the last boss battle with minimal injuries. I¡¯d improved by leagues working through this zone, the regular testing and increasing difficulty serving as the perfect whetstone for the blade I was. But as ever, I was going to savor this white platform.


    After a quick meal of protein paste and water, I withdrew my violin from my dimension ring. After the high-octane battle I had just been through, I took this time to try and center myself with one thing I was truly gifted at: music.


    The clarwood finish of the violin rested comfortably against my collar


    But as I set my bow against the strings, I watched Lady Dawn gaze out into the endless abyss. There was something lonely about that image. Like a sailor¡¯s wife, staring out at the sea for signs of her wayward husband¡¯s ship.


    ¡°Do you know any songs?¡± I asked. ¡°Anything at all, really.¡±


    The phoenix didn¡¯t respond. The emptiness I felt over our bond seemed to widen, making me feel guilty for asking.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to¨C¡±


    ¡°No, Contractor,¡± the asura interrupted, cutting across my thoughts and words. ¡°It has been many long years since I have sung. I wonder if I still know how.¡±


    I settled my violin down, the instrument forgotten for the moment. ¡°As with anything, you¡¯ve just gotta try,¡± I said, trying to be encouraging.


    There were several more moments of almost uncomfortable silence. I opened my mouth to add something more, but then I felt the swell of emotion in her mind. Then she began to sing. It was a quiet, slow song. Her voice was an instrument unto itself, carrying a melody I could never catch with my own.


    Oh, oh oh,


    We are all here for you.


    We are masters of the sky,


    Oh, oh oh.


    The phoenix¡¯s voice was soft as a mother¡¯s caress, and though I felt no change in the ambient sound mana, the melody she played sounded like magic.


    Go kiss your young farewell, my dear,


    Go sleep, you child, there¡¯s no need to fight.


    Birds and wraiths dance without fear.


    They feel their joy while the day is bright,


    And drift in silence when we are here.


    It continued on for several more verses as I listened, mesmerized. It sounded¡­ it sounded like a lullaby.


    If you are happy, you¡¯ll find peace first,


    You work your way to a life filled with gold.


    If you have hope, it will quench your thirst,


    And leave you well, that¡¯s what I¡¯m told.


    When Lady Dawn finally finished, her hauntingly smooth voice reaching a higher note before slowly tapering off, I watched her in obvious awe.


    ¡°You wondered if you still knew how?¡± I asked, a bit incredulous. I had the distinct impression my bond was uncomfortable under my awed gaze. I quickly shut my mouth.


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    ¡°It is an old phoenix lullaby,¡± my bond said, her emotions still settling. ¡°I do not know how long it has been since it was created. My mother sang it to me when I was a chick, and I hummed it to my own son when he was young.¡± She was silent for a moment. ¡°I wonder if my son will sing the words to his children, or if the song dies with me.¡±


    She misses her Hearth, I realized, understanding the loneliness and sense of loss. I missed Earth and all the opportunities I had lost as well.


    I smiled slightly, trying my best to add a measure of hope to the asura. ¡°I think I might sing it to my own children if I ever have any,¡± I promised. ¡°And I¡¯ll tell them they¡¯re the next in a very, very long line of children to hear it.¡±


    The phoenix side-eyed me, but she stayed silent. I didn¡¯t know if my words had done any good, or if they were leaves on the wind.


    ¡ª


    The next morning¨Cor whatever counted for morning in the Relictombs¨CI faced off the next platform. Orange platforms gave me a unique enemy to fight, forcing me to think outside of the box. Blue platforms had unique puzzles and mind-bending logical puzzles. Black platforms were home to difficult boss monsters that drew all my latent powers and abilities to the fore.


    But the red platforms, the first in the repeating cycle, were some of the most difficult. They tested my physical and mental fortitude, bombarding me with rampant emotions and sensations that I had to push through. From pervading electric shocks to overwhelming hunger, it seemed that nothing was off the table.


    Promise floated of its own accord toward me, sheathing itself on my right hip. I had used it earlier to change the bandages on my forearm, which needed cycling after eight or so hours of rest.


    Lady Dawn watched the platform with her own kind of apprehension. She wasn¡¯t afflicted with the effects of the platforms, but she felt the effects over our bond.


    ¡°Are you prepared?¡± my bond asked me. My apprehension was no secret.


    As ready as I¡¯ll ever be, I thought back, watching the opaque red platform with no small amount of trepidation.


    I took a single step onto a shimmering red stair, then another. The white platform slowly began to fade behind me as I continued on, the stairs following suit.


    And soon I was on the red platform.


    I blinked. I didn¡¯t feel any different. Before, the effects had been immediate and like a tide, smashing into me all at once. From the jittering tangle of electric shocks making my knees buckle and the overwhelming hunger both felt as if some switch had been flipped in my brain.


    Huh, I thought, anxious. If I wasn¡¯t feeling the effect, that meant I was missing something. I slowly began to track toward the orange stairs, so far away. My footsteps slowed unconsciously as I walked, trying to think of the reason for this platform. They were supposed to make me stronger, weren¡¯t they?


    I spotted the Fall Out Boy poster again as it drifted on invisible currents. Another reminder of my previous life passed by, distorted slightly in every way.


    I took another step, wondering. Would I eventually remember my previous life like that? Images slightly wrong, memories refracted by the glass of time?


    I wondered sometimes about my previous life. Actually, I thought about it a lot. I was going to be something there, with dreams and aspirations. And maybe I could accomplish some of those in my new world. I could find love. Make a successful life for myself; complete with a family and a legacy to enjoy.


    I took another couple of steps.


    But there are some things I¡¯ll never get back, I thought a bit sourly. Like computers, and book clubs, and my family and friends.


    Sometimes, late at night, I wondered how they were taking my death. Did they mourn me, as I mourned Norgan? I vaguely remembered a car crash. Did the other driver survive? I couldn¡¯t remember the circumstances surrounding that last night very well, but I hoped I wasn¡¯t a murderer before I was reborn. But if the other driver was at fault, would my family pursue them with the same vengeance I did Kaelan Joan?


    My walking slowed. I missed my old world so much. The constant pain and suffering of Alacrya was almost overwhelming at times. I felt so powerful; so sure of my own mana abilities. I could conjure a fire in my hand and distort the very vibrations of air. And yet people around me starved and died of blithe overdoses. How could I be so powerful in one way and so weak in another?


    I stopped in the center of the platform, my thoughts coming faster now. After I got out of these Relictombs, I would have to simply go back in again. To increase my strength faster. Even as the weakest of them, Nico was a Scythe. If I wanted to prevent the Legacy¡¯s reincarnation, I needed to become at least as powerful as Arthur was near the end of Dicathen¡¯s war. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Could¡­ could I even do that? I asked myself. Arthur had his failings, sure, but he was so much more than I was. He grasped his power with his own two hands, driven by his desire to protect others and shelter his loved ones.


    And yet all around me, people died. How could I ever compare? How could I delude myself into thinking I could kill a Scythe? Arthur was a man with nearly forty years of worldly experience when he reincarnated, compared to my measly twenty-something.


    My knees shook slightly, and I felt an overwhelming urge to simply lay down. The pressure came like it always did: working up my legs, grasping at my back, then weighing on my shoulders. And there it stayed, the lives of countless people dependent on my ability to stop the Legacy¡¯s return.


    But I should wait to rest until I got to the next platform. That was a better idea. More logical.


    But what use is logic, a traitorous voice whispered in my mind, In the face of divinity? You seek to kill a demigod.


    My legs trembled and I opened my mouth, my tongue working like a fish drowning on dry land.


    Lay down here for a moment, the voice said. Sleep your troubles away. Maybe you¡¯ll feel better afterward. Or maybe not. This world doesn¡¯t need, you, does it? You are not a part of its story. Would it not be simpler to let the world continue as it should?


    Yes, that was true. I was an outsider to this. How could I tell myself that my actions wouldn¡¯t damn this place to hell? I¡¯d failed so many times already. How many people died during that Clarwood Forest expedition? How many brothers did the Joans execute before I got to them?


    I began to kneel.


    ¡°No, Contractor,¡± a quiet voice brushed against my thoughts. But it was small and insignificant compared to all the other voices that vied for my attention in my skull.


    ¡°You are more than this, Toren Daen,¡± the voice said again, the warmth in its tone pushing back against the hissing thoughts. ¡°You are no failure.¡±


    ¡°How am I not?¡± I asked aloud. My voice sounded alien to my own ears, like I was listening to it from far away. ¡°I can¡¯t expect to do this. To actually alter this world¡¯s future. Any change I make can make things so much worse. But I¡¯m just¡­ I¡¯m just me.¡±


    ¡°And yet you acknowledge the power you have over a predestined Fate,¡± the voice soothed. I could recognize it now. My bond was sending a deluge of warmth and comfort over our tether, seeking to reinforce my psyche against the pervading dark. ¡°If one touch can make a tower topple, then that touch must be significant indeed. Your story is not one of failure.¡±


    I straightened slightly. She was right about that. It wasn¡¯t all failure, was it?


    ¡°And you wanted to change this world for the better, did you not?¡±


    I took a few more steps, my vision refocusing on the orange stairs not far away.


    Yes, I thought. I hated Alacrya. I despised it with every ounce of my being. The death, the struggle, the common person broken under the yoke of tyrannical gods. My previous world was not perfect. But it was far easier to grow and thrive when you were allowed to think. And the things I hated about this world were going to change, weren¡¯t they?


    My feet neared the edge of the platform. The voices in my head seethed. But you have already failed, Toren Daen, they said. How many have died under your watch? How can you compare to the powers you seek to face? You are alone. You stand as a rock amidst a swirling ocean. You may stand for a while, but time weathers all.


    But the voices were wrong. I couldn¡¯t see it at the start, the pervading void encompassing my sight. But there was a kind light that anchored me, pushing through the cold nothingness with the guiding light of a North Star.


    I rejected the message of despair, leaving my doubts behind. Maybe I would fail. Maybe I would make this world worse through my actions.


    But I would stand strong in my convictions. I was not alone.


    I stepped off the red platform.


    Thank you, Aurora, I thought, sending quiet gratitude toward my bond.

 Chapter 69: Offer

    Toren Daen


    I sat on the corpse of a giant beast with dark skin and a disproportionate body. Its tail was segmented in several places, and I knew from experience that it could attach and detach at certain points to create a complex fighting style.


    I slowly let my Acquire phase drift back into my core. The red chains on my arm slowly dimmed, then ceased glowing entirely. I knew that the runic feather stems that shone under my eyes had disappeared, and my pupils¨Cwhich had turned to molten fire¨Creverted to their normal hazel. The heartfire in the aether beast¡¯s chest had extinguished a few moments ago, yet I knew that my ability to see a person¡¯s lifeforce had vanished in turn.


    I would need my Bond¡¯s assistance to work through the assimilation process again soon. Using my Phoenix Will accelerated the need for dispersing mana through my bones and organs.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad,¡± I said with a weary smile as Oath and Promise drifted into their sheaths. Truthfully, my rate of improvement and growth had outstripped the challenges thrown at me as I ascended these platforms.


    Except for one.


    ¡°Your control and technique have indeed improved,¡± Lady Dawn affirmed from the side, appraising the corpse. I¡¯d collected a few accolades from the monsters I¡¯d slain so far, good materials and remnants that an artificer or instiller could use to improve their works. This body was no different, seeing as a few horns I¡¯d cut were hovering toward me in an outline of white. ¡°You do not have nearly as many injuries as you did before.¡±


    That was also true. As I¡¯d gone through the zone, I had relied heavily on my innate healing factor to rest on the white platforms after boss battles on the black platforms. Yet as my power increased, I was able to avoid taking devastating hits every fight.


    A shimmering purple portal appeared near the end of the platform. I blinked as I inspected it, unable to see through to the other side.


    ¡°So we¡¯re finally done with this zone,¡± I said with a sigh. That was good. I didn¡¯t want to go through another red platform.


    Lady Dawn must have sensed my unease at the idea of continuing on in this zone. ¡°I should have recognized that trial¡¯s effects on your psyche sooner, Contractor,¡± she said, a hint of regret in her tone. ¡°I will not fail you in such a manner again.¡±


    I bit back a sigh. The red platforms in this zone tested your mental and physical endurance. But the last one had nearly claimed me, making doubt and despair scrape against the insides of my skull.


    ¡°I get why you didn¡¯t notice,¡± I said in a short tone. I wasn¡¯t upset with her for not realizing the effects. I hadn¡¯t noticed them either.


    The other red platforms bombarded me with emotions and sensations that were unfamiliar and foreign. One of them made me itch incessantly on every inch of my skin, making it nearly impossible to simply take the steps I needed to get out. Another focused on my sense of amusement, making me feel almost drunk with humor.


    But I always had those nagging, depressive thoughts at the back of my mind. What happened to the people I loved in my previous life? How could I hope to change this world?


    Those weren¡¯t thoughts I hadn¡¯t encountered before, so they did not seem out of the ordinary until it was nearly too late.


    My bond remained silent, side-eying me as her feather-red hair rustled in an Unseen breeze.


    I hopped off the large corpse, using a measured push of telekinesis against the ground to slow my fall. I loped to the portal, looking at its liquid purple finish.


    I had spent three weeks or so in the Relictombs. With how time worked in the outside world, only a week or so had passed since the New Year¡¯s festival. It seemed I might have to go through a zone or two more to reach an exit portal.


    I exhaled, then stepped through the pane of light.


    I went rigid as I saw the next zone. An asphalt road stretched under my feet into the horizon, endless hills curving the landscape. Streetlights adorned a makeshift sidewalk, and two portals loomed at the end of a miscolored town.


    I was in the same zone I¡¯d entered with the Unblooded Party. The one with strange, twenty-first-century architecture and unnerving design.


    Except now, the zone had changed. The houses lining the road weren¡¯t perfect by any means. There were still small discrepancies: maybe a window was too large, or the paint on the slats was too bright in contrast to the others. But it appeared as if a mishmash shape made of clay had finally solidified into what it wanted to be.


    The zone had improved its depiction of American housing in the time since I¡¯d been gone.


    I felt goosebumps rise along my arms as I turned about warily. I felt like I was being watched; scrutinized by some unseen force. Just as before, it was as if the layers of my soul were being peeled away.


    I dashed toward one of the houses, wrenching open the door. Instead of an empty white expanse inside, furnishings and decorations for a living room greeted me. A rug was along the floor. A flat-screen TV sat parallel to the window, with a leather couch opposite. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My frantic eyes darted over these things for a moment, then I rushed to explore the rest of the house. The kitchen was similar, with a microwave and oven. Modern appliances. From poking at them, I knew they didn¡¯t work. The cupboards were empty, and no pictures hung on the walls.


    Hastily, I left that house, darting into the others.


    They were all the same in their changes. They were like a doll¡¯s house: all outward appearance of reality, but once you looked a bit deeper the facade wore away. I wondered then, with an almost manic rush, who the doll was in this scenario.


    That watching gaze never left me. I felt it from every angle all at once, and simultaneously, none at all. I didn¡¯t know whether my senses had improved dramatically from when I¡¯d last been here, or if my watcher was more blatant in their spying.


    But how many times did an ascender go through the same zone twice?


    I racked my brain for information in the long binge of Relictombs knowledge I¡¯d gone on before my preliminary ascent.


    And I came up empty. No ascender had ever entered the same zone twice.


    It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence.


    My nerves began to settle slightly as I trudged toward the exit portal. I¡¯d been able to leave without incident the last time, but what about now? Instincts had been engrained in me to fear this dungeon.


    I turned around, inspecting the repeat zone with hesitant eyes. Nothing jumped out at me. The trees that dotted the far-off landscape didn¡¯t hold any monsters or beasts. And the watching gaze never changed.


    I gulped, then stepped into the exit portal.


    ¡ª


    A while later, I was sitting in a simple waiting booth at the Relictombs Ascender¡¯s Association. I had dropped off the bulk of my accolades here, and the association¡¯s dedicated appraisal teams were looking over what I¡¯d brought and cataloging how much they¡¯d be willing to pay for them.


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    And so I waited. I quickly confirmed after exiting the tombs that only ten days had passed on the surface since I entered the Relictombs, and I was nervous to see what had happened to my friends in East Fiachra with the Doctrination looming over their shoulders.


    I hope Greahd¡¯s doing alright, I thought, remembering the kindly woman. She¡¯s got enough on her plate without the entire district to worry about.


    ¡°She is a driven woman,¡± my bond affirmed. ¡°Though I have doubts as to how long she will last with such stress.¡±


    I hummed, distracting myself by counting the number of repeating patterns on the intricate ceiling above me. The Ascender¡¯s Association buildings were grand, with decor and aesthetics fitting for a palace. It always struck me as incongruous, seeing giant mountains of men with half their chests exposed waltzing around these buildings.


    Someone entered my field of view from the side, drawing my eye. They wore dark trousers and simple chainmail armor, but their stark white hair set them apart from many of the random mages milling about.


    The man seemed to be searching for something, his head turning about slowly and eyes roaming. When they landed on me, however, I felt apprehension rise. Those teal eyes were vaguely familiar.


    Nerves, I thought. The ascender I¡¯d met in the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard.


    He strode toward me with purpose, a confident and graceful gait accompanying him. There was something strapped to his hip that I couldn¡¯t make out just yet.


    I stood slowly, feeling a strange mix of dread and calm. My last conversation with this ascender shouldn¡¯t have revealed much about my abilities or the effects I had on the Relictombs, but I got the sense this mage was looking for me in particular.


    He approached me without a hint of caution, giving me a critical once-over. ¡°Toren Daen, good to see you again,¡± he said in greeting, his voice unconcerned. ¡°I see you just got done with an ascent.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, feeling immediately suspicious of Nerves. Had he sought me out in particular? ¡°I did,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Though I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have time to talk. I¡¯m trading in accolades now, and then I¡¯ll be on my way. What are you here for, Nerves?¡±


    Nerves was unphased by my obvious attempt to ward him off. ¡°Ah, I remember the first time I submitted my accolades for appraisal,¡± he said, nodding. ¡°Where¡¯s your team? Did they not accompany you to turn in their own cut of the accolades?¡±


    I squared my shoulders more. ¡°I ascended solo. I didn¡¯t have a team.¡±


    That made Nerves start, looking at me with something approaching respect. ¡°You¡¯re going the path of a solo ascender?¡± he asked, questioning. ¡°Immediately after your prelim?¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°I survived, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Nerves shrugged. ¡°There aren¡¯t many solo ascenders, and I¡¯m one of the few. Are you sure you don¡¯t want a bit of time to learn the ropes?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve managed well so far,¡± I said, trying to piece together Nerves¡¯ implications.


    The mage across from me crossed his arms with a slight sigh, looking me up and down once more. ¡°I¡¯m going to be frank with you, Toren Daen. My Blood can offer to sponsor you on your future ascents. You seem promising, and you¡¯ve already gone on a solo ascent after your prelim and made it out alive.¡±


    I felt a wave of disorientation wash over me from how quickly Nerves switched tactics. It sounded like he was trying to be subtle at first, but dropped the act out of nowhere. ¡°Okay, hold on,¡± I said raising a hand. ¡°I don¡¯t know you or your Blood, Nerves. And I don¡¯t know what you¡¯d want in return.¡±


    The white-haired man kept his arms crossed, tapping a few fingers against his arm. ¡°I do not like the cloak and daggers of politics, Toren Daen, so I¡¯ll tell you straight. Highblood Denoir can sponsor you with anything you need to succeed. New armor, better weapons, teammates who can help you train, the best elixirs and¨C¡±


    ¡°Highblood Denoir?¡± I said a bit breathily, cutting Nerves off. ¡°You¡¯re from Highblood Denoir?¡±


    A few mages were giving me envious looks at my outburst, but I ignored them.


    The man in front of me smirked slightly, his white teeth matching his beard. ¡°Sevren of Highblood Denoir, at your service,¡± he said, causing my shock to drop into something deeper. ¡°And our Blood constantly sponsors promising ascenders, taking a cut of their earnings as payment. But you don¡¯t need to do that for our favor,¡± he said, talking through the shock I must be displaying. ¡°Instead, you only need to do one thing for me.¡±


    I forcefully dismissed my surprise at hearing the name Sevren Denoir. I made a little box and dumped all of my questions into it, then locked it away. It wouldn¡¯t hold, but I needed peace of mind in this interaction.


    ¡°And what would single favor be?¡± I asked. God, why couldn¡¯t I see it before? Nerves was literally Sevren backward!


    ¡°I¡¯ll go on a few ascents with you,¡± Sevren started. ¡°I want to see more of the Relictombs, and the best way is to go with different people.¡±


    Caera said the same thing as Haedrig when she approached Grey, I remembered, thinking this entire situation was rather ironic. The young woman probably heard it from her brother, then. Was this how Arthur felt, being accosted by a strange man and asked to go on an ascent?


    ¡°No,¡± I said without hesitation. A bit of shock rolled over the people eavesdropping, and I watched Sevren¡¯s face scrunch up slightly. ¡°I¡¯m a solo ascender.¡±


    ¡°If you want, we can set the exact number of ascents in a legal contract, including your own benefits,¡± Sevren began.


    I cut him off, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I mean that I won¡¯t take people with me. At all.¡±


    With how the Relictombs reacted to my presence, I was unwilling to bring people with me. How long would it take for someone to put two and two together that items from another world were popping up around me? How long would it take before that drew the attention of the Sovereigns? No, I could only be a solo ascender. Even if it meant rejecting the status that would come with being associated with one of the most powerful highbloods in Alacrya.


    I heard a few gasps from the nearby ascenders who were doing a poor job of hiding how they were listening in. Sevren¡¯s face went carefully neutral, but I could swear I saw a spark of something flash in his teal eyes.


    I stood straight, keeping my posture firm and reinforcing my rejection of his offer. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s non-negotiable. I can do other things for you, even give your Blood a cut of my earnings. But I ascend alone.¡±


    Sevren scrutinized me with a piercing look. As he did so, that little box I¡¯d shoved all my questions into began to slowly overflow. Caera said that Sevren was extremely knowledgeable about the Relictombs, even having unintentionally divined some of their true purposes in bestowing insight.


    The more I thought about it, the more my apprehension built. This mage had sought me out expecting my presence to change the Relictombs.


    How much did he know? How much could the Unblooded party even tell him?


    ¡°Alright,¡± Sevren said slowly, reaching into a pocket. As his hand moved, I spotted a large dagger strapped to his side, the white bone handle standing out starkly against his dark clothing. A simple hexagon was scratched into the handle. ¡°If you ever change your mind,¡± he said, holding out a metal card, ¡°You can contact me here. Highblood Denoir can be generous, Toren Daen.¡±


    I took the card hesitantly just as the receptionist called my name over a speaker, signifying my accolades were done being appraised.


    I nodded toward Sevren in acknowledgment. ¡°Thank you. I will hold onto this, in the off chance I do change my mind.¡± Better to keep him hopeful rather than burn bridges.


    I walked past the scion of Highblood Denoir, heir to one of the most powerful noble families on the continent, toward the receptionist.


    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, kid. Never seen someone with an ego large enough they¡¯d wanna stay a solo ascender after that sorta offer,¡± an older mage muttered nearby. ¡°Ungrateful, you are.¡±


    I shrugged off the insult, keeping my gaze forward. I felt Sevren¡¯s eyes on my back all the way to the desk.


    Sevren Denoir


    I watched Toren Daen leave the Ascender¡¯s Association with a noticeable tenseness in his every step. The young man was strung tighter than a lute.


    I¡¯d received word from my sources quickly after Toren had exited the Relictombs. I¡¯d been worried when he entered solo, fearing that my next lead would die on his second ascent. Except the weary-looking young man had been resting in the Ascender¡¯s Association, waiting for his earnings to be tallied.


    The result only reinforced my guess that this ascender was different from the rest. His utter insistence on ascending alone might be viewed as a vain sense of ego by anyone else, but I knew better. If Toren¡¯s presence changed the Relictombs as he stepped through them, it made sense that he would want that kept close. After all, if he managed it right, he could get a relic.


    Not even all the assurances of Highblood Denoir would make up for that.


    I thought back to my last conversation with Caera. I felt like I was close to a revelation into my new subject. I just needed another push. Some sort of connection.


    I was hoping that the new scenery I might see in the Relictombs alongside Toren Daen might add that final puzzle piece.


    But if Toren didn¡¯t contact me himself, I had other ways to follow through. Simulets were not the most complex artifacts to dissect and understand, especially with the assistance of my regalia, Scouring Purpose.


    I flipped open my aether compass, noting the brilliant purple dot on its face slowly fading as Toren walked away.

 Chapter 70: Oppression

    Toren Daen


    The air of Fiachra was a biting kiss on my cheek, the January weather unabating and demanding. Though the streets radiated warmth under my feet, the wind didn¡¯t care. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I was walking toward East Fiachra, intent on checking up on my thieves-in-arms. There wasn¡¯t any snow on the roofs, but I was certain it would eventually come. The city of canals never went a winter without a storm.


    I walked over one of the canal bridges, noting the lack of people out and about in East Fiachra. I slowed in my trek, sensing something amiss.


    It was late afternoon right now, and usually I would see some people out and about on the streets. The fact that I couldn¡¯t made me uneasy for a reason I couldn¡¯t define.


    Lady Dawn, I asked my bond, jumping to the rooftops on instinct. Do you sense anything off? See anything amiss?


    ¡°There is no foot traffic in these streets,¡± the asura said, affirming my earlier observation. ¡°The common folk should be walking home from their work at this time of day. Yet you can see lights on in most of the windows visible.¡±


    I squinted, peering around. I was in the lower-middle-class area of East Fiachra, close to where my old apartment used to be. As such, I was able to spot a dozen lights on.


    So people are home, just not about, I thought, frowning. What could this mean?


    My bond and I were in agreement that it couldn¡¯t be good.


    The streets were surprisingly empty all throughout East Fiachra, even where I was used to seeing those down on their life wallowing in the low shadows and cold corners of the road. Trepidation grew as I moved from rooftop to rooftop. But I soon noticed people out and about.


    Except they were not natives. I could tell that simply from their blatant mana signatures, radiating outward as they walked in pairs. I squinted as I spied them from a rooftop, noting their Doctrination robes with growing anger. The robes were noticeably shorter than the usual style, and from how the men stepped lightly, I realized it was to avoid getting mud on their clothes.


    Of course, they couldn¡¯t stain their pristine dark coats.


    But once the flash of anger passed, this only increased my growing desperation. If the Doctrination was doing something in the streets, were Naereni, Wade, Karsien, and Hofal alright? How was Greahd faring? Was she safe?


    I couldn¡¯t seem to move fast enough as these questions sounded in my head. I bounded over rooftops, using controlled bursts of telekinesis and freerunning to move through the city. Now that I knew what to look for¨Cwhat to sense for¨CI was able to feel the mana signatures of Doctrination vicars patrolling all about East Fiachra. The numbers made my fists clench with worry. Easily several dozen pairs were patrolling the streets.


    I dropped into the Cistern without bothering to cushion my fall. I focused my senses out with a hint of desperation, but I immediately felt relief when four mana signatures blared to life in my mind.


    But before I even walked into the Cistern¡¯s main room, I felt the tension thick in the air. I slowed, entering from the side.


    Naereni was curled up on one of the couches, holding onto Apple the skaunter, who was for once not panting like a dog. If a mana beast could look sullen, I thought, that would be it.


    Karsien was staring at the map, his hands clenched tight. Hofal was sitting in another chair, his eyes slightly glazed over. A broken pipe sat in his hands.


    And Wade¡­ Wade looked furious. His knuckles dripped red blood onto the floor, their ruined surfaces bleeding profusely. I could see red spots on the wall where he¡¯d punched the bricks with his bare hands.


    ¡°Hello?¡± I said, breaking the silence.


    Naereni perked up a bit. ¡°Oh, hey Toren,¡± she said quietly.


    ¡°I noticed the Doctrination patrolling outside,¡± I said, walking into the room slowly. ¡°And I couldn¡¯t see anybody outside¨C¡±


    ¡°They took them all!¡± Wade said harshly, turning on me with a glare that bore into my skull. ¡°The Doctrination locked them away in their warehouses, saying anybody loitering was wasting the time they could be using to help our Sovereigns.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I said, moving closer to the group. ¡°That¡¯s absurd! Surely this is illegal in some way?¡± I asked, remembering the High Hall and the trials.


    ¡°It absolutely is,¡± Naereni said sadly, nuzzling Apple. ¡°But who wants to fight the Doctrination? There¡¯s no way they¡¯ll be getting out.¡±


    ¡°And it''s your fault,¡± Wade cut in with a hiss, turning an almost maddened stare on me. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t antagonized that vicar at the Bestowment a week ago, they wouldn¡¯t have my mother and sister! You shouldn¡¯t have defied them!¡±


    I stepped backward, surprised by Wade¡¯s outburst. I was immediately overcome with a sense of shame. I recognized that my actions were probably foolish, even at the moment. But I always suspected that they would come back to haunt me, not the people I cared for.


    Hofal interjected next. ¡°That''s not fair, Wade. Your family wasn¡¯t targeted explicitly, and we both know that Toren¡¯s actions weren¡¯t enough to spur such an outrageous reaction. This is for some other reason, one we don¡¯t understand yet.¡±


    The sentry huffed, then stalked out of the chamber. I watched him go, still feeling a bit guilty.


    ¡°Thanks, Hofal,¡± I said, moving over to a chair and sitting down with a thump. ¡°Though Wade was right about one thing. I probably should¡¯ve just let it go.¡±


    ¡°None could have foreseen this,¡± Karsien spoke up. His mask was on, obscuring the deep burns I knew were underneath. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we will just let it go.¡±


    I oriented on the man. ¡°What are you planning?¡±


    ¡°We need to know the state of those captured. The Doctrination only took those walking under the sun into custody, and Wade¡¯s rats were able to track the vicars to a large warehouse near the refurbished temple.¡±


    I nodded along. ¡°Is there any sort of rescue plan? Any way to get those people free?¡±


    Hofal clenched his hands around the two pieces of his pipe. ¡°Maybe. But nothing will stop the vicars from just roundin¡¯ them up again. Like wogarts in a pen.¡±


    I felt a wave of familiar helpless anger coast over me. It felt the exact same as when the Joans had butchered my brother, the illegality of the action irrelevant to the authorities. Except now, it was a vast amount of people in an entire subdistrict.


    So many Norgans, I thought, gritting my teeth. And none who are willing to simply stand and fight!


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    The Rats were willing to risk life and limb for change, but I held no illusions that they¡¯d be able to outmuscle the Doctrination. The Joans were a petty family. The Doctrination held sway over the hearts and minds of all men.


    But maybe there is a way to outmuscle the Doctrination, I thought, an idea popping up in my mind.


    I brushed my hand across the metal card Sevren Denoir had given me, standing out prominently in my pocket. If I accepted Sevren¡¯s offer of support from the Denoirs, would that allow me to push back against the Doctrination here? Maybe get some real legal support? After all, the Denoirs were the ones to get Grey out of the High Hall.


    My hands feathered over the smooth engraving as I thought. No, I wouldn¡¯t be able to guarantee the Denoirs would go against the Vritra Doctrination, but it was a card I would be able to play if all else were lost.


    ¡°So it''s just a scouting mission,¡± Karsien continued. He gave me a once-over. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten stronger, Toren. We¡¯d be happy to have your assistance with this.¡±


    I nodded, grinding my teeth. ¡°What can I do to help?¡±


    ¡ª


    The three of us stood on a rooftop not far from the refurbished temple, which I had yet to see. Naereni and Karsien were busy looking toward the warehouse¡¯s position, a rat sitting on Naereni¡¯s shoulder. Hofal wasn¡¯t with us for this particular mission, as it would require mobility and stealth beyond his ability. I took a glance at the night sky.


    I could see the stars here once again. But they seemed dimmer in the wake of this crisis.


    I was wearing a new Rat masquerade mask since the last one had been destroyed.


    The rat on Naereni¡¯s shoulder squeaked, then jumped down, following a few steps to reach another roof. She immediately moved to follow, the rest of the Rats trailing after.


    ¡°This is a new way to scout,¡± I said quietly, allowing my voice to be heard with sound magic.


    ¡°It¡¯s got something to do with Apple,¡± Naereni replied, also hushed. ¡°Wade said he¡¯s able to spread his reach farther and give more complex commands to his little minions whenever Apple is close to him.¡± She narrowed her eyes back at me. ¡°Which is why you can¡¯t kill him. He¡¯s an important member of the team, now.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. I might have protested before, but fighting neverending waves of tree demons had a way of making skaunters seem like an afterthought. Sure, my first encounter with skaunters almost ended up with me dead. But every tree demon I¡¯d met had nearly ended with my death.


    But Naereni¡¯s words also got me thinking. Beast Bonds and Wills were practically nonexistent in Alacrya, for reasons I couldn¡¯t fathom. But it was theoretically possible, wasn¡¯t it? Had Wade bonded with his skaunter in the magical sense?


    ¡°There¡¯s a patrol ahead,¡± Karsien said softly. ¡°Wait until I tell you all to jump. Wouldn¡¯t want you to be discovered snooping, eh?¡±


    We watched as a couple of vicars trailed along the streets below, their faces visibly plastered with disgust as they avoided a puddle of mud.


    Karsien waved his hand forward as they passed, giving us the go-ahead. We continued to stealthily move closer to the warehouse.


    Our quest was simple. Right now, the Rats and I were behind in information. We knew the people of East Fiachra were being held in a warehouse, but we didn¡¯t know their condition or why they had been detained in the first place. That was our quest: to dip in, see what we could find, then get out.


    I muffled our collective footsteps as we got closer. The Doctrination patrols were heavier here, but I¡¯d come a long way since the first time I had to quiet my own steps. With a mix of Karsien¡¯s direction, Wade¡¯s rat, and my stealth efforts, we quickly reached the edges of the warehouse.


    It didn¡¯t look like a warehouse. Religious symbols were marked in freshly dried paint on certain parts of the building, the freshly raised stone standing four stories tall at the least. It towered over every other building in the area, the black tone making it seem even darker in the night.


    There were no windows to be seen, immediately telling me how difficult it would be to get in. The rat, however, spared us those problems. It bounded down the rooftop, scampering on four little legs through the dark. It scurried toward one patch of the wall, nudging it with its nose.


    The four of us slowly crowded around it. There was a small door here, presumably a side entrance.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Naereni spoke up, stepping forward and withdrawing that strange artifact she used on our heist to pick locks. She knelt in front of the door, getting to work.


    I scanned the deathly still night, my nerves ratcheting up with the awareness of our current situation. Every shifting shadow seemed to contain malicious eyes, ready to report us and doom our operation.


    ¡°We¡¯re in!¡± Naereni¡¯s voice said triumphantly. I turned back to see the door slowly swinging inward, revealing a dark interior.


    ¡°Good job, Naereni,¡± Karsien affirmed, slipping past while outlined by mist.


    I was taken aback by the inside of the building. I expected to find the people here, maybe locked up in a cage or watched over by a dozen mages. Instead, I was faced with long rows of crates stretching high into the gloom.


    We were on our own, now. Wade¡¯s rat hadn¡¯t explored the inside of the building.


    ¡°Toren, scout the east side of the building. Naereni, you¡¯re with me. We¡¯re looking for offices of some sort,¡± Karsien said, his bandana covering his face. ¡°Meet back here with anything you find.¡±


    After Naereni followed her leader into the darkness, I looked around. I sensed several mana signatures amidst the stacks of wooden boxes, but most were congregated in Karsien¡¯s section.


    I bent my knees, tensing and building up force into my legs. Then I jumped, suppressing the sound of my boots cracking against the stone. I was a dark blur as my body shot toward the ceiling, a barely visible white glow pulling me toward it as I leveraged my telekinesis spellform.


    I twisted, landing feet-first on the ceiling. My emblem locked the soles of my feet to the roof, allowing me a bird¡¯s eye view of the entire warehouse.


    I smirked. I¡¯d picked up a few tricks since I was under Karsien¡¯s wing. From my high position, I was able to see the sea of crates beneath me. I frowned slightly, wondering why they were here and what the Doctrination was storing.


    I shook that thought away, enhancing my vision and turning my head. I surveyed the room, trying to find sources of light or doors that could lead to an office.


    There, I thought, noticing a place on the east side that opened into an alcove.


    I darted across the ceiling, utterly silent and dark as a shadow. I noticed a guard in front of the office door, making me frown. How to get rid of him?


    I lit up with an idea a second later. I shuffled within my dimension ring, withdrawing a rock. I latched onto it with my emblem, making it hover upside down. Then the stone darted down, popping against the ground a few times a ways away from the guard.


    The vicar¡¯s head turned toward the sound, his eyes narrowing, but his grip only tightened on a spear in his hands. He didn¡¯t move.


    I clicked my tongue, the sound of which was thankfully masked by my magic. I brought the stone up again, then let it fall once more.


    The guard finally shifted, seeming a bit nervous, before moving to investigate.


    When he was several yards away, I dropped, silent as death. I tested the door lock, seeing it wouldn¡¯t budge. But thankfully it was not a mana-enforced lock, but a simple pin system.


    I closed my eyes, focusing on my telekinesis spellform. Then I used it to crush the inside of the locking mechanism, allowing the door to swing open slightly.


    I smirked. My powers weren¡¯t precise enough to pick a lock, but brute force almost always worked. I let the door shut behind me with a nonexistent click as I hurried in, scanning the place.


    My attention focused on a map stretching across the opposite walls. I quickly recognized it as a map of East Fiachra, the subdivisions and landmarks standing out to me. Lines were drawn in bright ink across the paper, stretching from the warehouse I was currently at to different points across the district. Reds and greens crisscrossed in specific manners, ending at¡­


    ¡°God,¡± I breathed, my eyes widening. I didn¡¯t recognize the routes, but I knew the endpoints. I¡¯d seen them before the ill-fated assault on the Joans¡¯ blithe caches. Wade¡¯s network had outlined the common dropoff locations that the Joans used to give out their drug. ¡°This is all for delivering blithe.¡±


    ¡°Contractor!¡± Lady Dawn blared in my head. ¡°Defend yourself!¡±


    The warning came almost too late. I whirled on instinct, thrusting my hand outward. A pulsing barrier of pushing telekinesis met a twisting stream of mucky green fluid, but I hadn¡¯t had time to apply my telekinetic shroud. I felt the opposing magic eating into my own mana, slowly but surely dissolving it. But the lack of a telekinetic shroud might¡¯ve saved my life. Instead of allowing the acidic spell to reach me, the pushback launched me into a wall, making it crack.


    I coughed, my mind racing. Oath and Promise drew themselves from their sheathes, settling themselves into my waiting hands.


    I finally felt the pressure settling into my bones, pressing me down to my knees. I watched the remnants of the bright green acidic spell bubbling on the stone floor, the mana greedily ripping apart the earth.


    ¡°Hello again, little mage,¡± a voice like slime dripping down the back of my neck said from above. It was the kind of voice I¡¯d expect from the depths of a bog; some sort of creature from within rearings its head to speak. ¡°I was wondering when I¡¯d see you again.¡±

 Chapter 71: The Vicar of Plague

    Toren Daen


    ¡°A monster,¡± Lady Dawn said with restrained anger.


    Mardeth, I thought, gritting my teeth as my neck creaked under the force of his killing intent. The vicar didn¡¯t look different from when I last saw him.


    Yellow-green blithe stains spotted his gray skin. One eye was a milky white, yet it seemed to stare through me despite its supposed blindness. His lips curled at the edges, malicious enjoyment seeping from seeing me kneel. His horns came to sharpened points that could gore a man.


    He hovered in the air, his shredded vicar¡¯s robe shifting casually.


    I started to push myself to my feet, gripping Oath and Promise tighter. The blades shimmered as I funneled mana into them.


    The pressure redoubled, slamming me down into the ground hard enough to crack it. My telekinetic shroud¨Cwhich I¡¯d finally raised¨Ccreaked from the sheer attention of the mage before me. My panic heightened as I was forced onto my face, the most powerful mage I¡¯d ever met hovering not ten feet away. My arms burned from straining against the pressure, the air freezing in my lungs.


    I couldn¡¯t breathe.


    ¡°You already pushed past my intent once before, little mage. Show me you¡¯ve changed.¡±


    My teeth creaked from how hard I clenched them.


    ¡°Get away from this lessuran,¡± Lady Dawn said, her anger tempered somewhat by apprehension. ¡°You are no match for him.¡±


    I felt the Will drifting closer to my mind. It lashed its tendrils out, bringing my own thoughts into its embrace. The Phoenix within denied the power of the Vritra-blooded mage bearing down on me.


    I fell into my first phase, the glowing red chains superimposing themselves over my clothing. The familiar warmth pushed back against the pressure around me, allowing me to slowly draw myself to my feet.


    Mardeth watched me with a crinkled eye, smirking slightly as I righted myself under his constant pressure. The air returned to my lungs as my own power rose in a swell.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find I¡¯ve changed plenty,¡± I said breathily. I felt a warmth under my eyes where I knew runes glowed like hot coals. Mardeth¡¯s red lifeforce flared solemnly, yet there was a strange flickering blackness at its core that seemed to drink in the light.


    Mardeth cocked his head. ¡°Is that all, little mage? I was expecting more.¡± He held his arms behind his back. ¡°Do you know why I left you alive last time we met?¡±


    I shifted, my eyes darting to Oath and Promise.


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t because of those toothpicks you hold. The Doctrination preaches a Truth, one that even a lesser such as yourself must understand.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t run. Naereni and Karsien were still in the warehouse somewhere. If I left, they¡¯d be easy pickings for this monster. I felt Lady Dawn¡¯s reservations and her advice that I leave, but I pushed it aside.


    ¡°What are you doing with those blithe routes?¡± I hissed, shifting my stance to be more aggressive. ¡°And what did you do with all the people you took from the streets?¡±


    ¡°You want to know?¡± the Vritra-blooded vicar asked, splaying his gangly arms wide. ¡°Fight me, little mage. Take the answers from my broken body.¡±


    His voice made me shudder internally, but I didn¡¯t let it show. I couldn¡¯t be bullied like before.


    I pointed the hand holding Promise at the vicar, raising a single finger from the hilt. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you, Mardeth.¡±


    The vicar laughed. ¡°Oh, do try. I want to see what you can do.¡±


    I slammed fire and sound mana together, forcibly amping the heat. A thin beam of red plasma shot from my extended fingertip, moving too quickly to follow with normal senses.


    A slim wall of bright green acid coalesced in front of my attack, forming nearly too fast for me to see. My beam of plasma sizzled on contact, and I could feel the mana within being broken down.


    I grit my teeth, a dozen orbs of solid plasma hovering in the air around me. They cast a dim red light around me, a promise of searing destruction.


    Then I sent them on, each one darting around like a fly. They came from a dozen different directions, streaks of white and red converging on a single point.


    Mardeth smirked, waving his hand dismissively. A torrent of horrid green rushed from him, splashing against the floor and swallowing my plasma spells like a sea swallows a ship.


    The spell tracked toward me, bubbling with decay. Unwilling to let myself be consumed, I pushed against the floor. I attached myself to the ceiling, lashing out with a plume of fire as another spray of acid tracked after me. The acid ate through my attack almost faster than I could conjure it, but the brief delay allowed me to move out of the way.


    The acid splashed against the ceiling, eating through the stone quickly. I watched in abject horror as I easily guessed what would¡¯ve happened to me if I¡¯d been hit.


    I turned back to Mardeth, narrowing my eyes.


    ¡°He is playing with you, Contractor. Once he wishes you dead, you will dissolve just as that stone,¡± Lady Dawn said with increased urgency.


    I snarled. I don¡¯t care. Naereni and Karsien are still in this place. I just need to give them time to escape, then I can as well.


    I concentrated on my template spells, an idea forming in my head. If this man wasn¡¯t going to take me seriously, I¡¯d use that for all I could.


    A dozen different spells winked into the air around me. Fireballs, plasma, and solid variations of both circled around my position on the ceiling, growing larger as I fed more mana into them. I started to feel the heat as they swelled, even though I knew none could hurt me.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to play with me any longer,¡± I said, the power of the Will reinforcing my words. ¡°I¡¯ll make you tell me what I need to know.¡±


    Mardeth smiled a leering grin. ¡°Play with you? Oh, little mage, you don¡¯t know anything.¡±


    My spells surged toward the floating vicar. He hadn¡¯t moved a single inch during this entire confrontation, and I was counting on him continuing to underestimate me.


    As before, a tide of green acid soaked from the vicar¡¯s robes, attacking the mana of my spell and trying to make it decay. My spells, fortified with far more power than I had inputted before, resisted longer. A couple of the plasma spells nearly singed the man¡¯s horns or bit at his robes, their searing heat inexorable even under the Vritra¡¯s decay arts.


    But the overwhelming heat and firepower I was throwing at him was constantly destroyed. Each attack was systematically broken down, the hunger of the basilisk mana unrelenting. The room was cast in shades of red, orange, and green as swells of our power clashed. The walls shook at the onslaught, the rumbling making the entire structure shudder on its foundations.


    My brow was sweating from the stream of spells I was throwing at the vicar. Oath and Promise hovered behind me as I focused on a special spell in my palm, my attention split between my foe and my task.


    I caught Mardeth¡¯s wry smirk through the flashes of red. He was unscathed by the power I was hurling at him. His lifeforce was as steady as ever, the pulse of his heart unphased. Those specks of blackness at the center of it seemed to yawn wider.


    He¡¯s not trying at all, I thought. Whenever a person¡¯s heartbeat picked up, their lifeforce surged to match it. He¡¯s completely calm. Not even exerting himself.


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    A quick glance at my own chest showed my heartfire flaring wildly, the tongue of red flame licking at my veins and fighting to escape my chest.


    ¡°Is that all?¡± he asked, somehow able to be heard over the spellfire. ¡°The purest Doctrine which the High Sovereign himself taught was that of struggle.¡± He paused, pretending to think as he tapped a wicked finger against his chin. ¡°Do you know how Agrona Vritra grew so strong?¡±


    I let the man prattle on, focusing on my own mana. A beat later, I threw the spell I¡¯d been crafting. A large sphere of solid sound mana rocketed toward the mage, moving through the searing heat unaffected. Its insides whirled with an oily sheen, an extreme condensation of power compacted with singular intent.


    Mardeth lashed at the sphere with a tendril of green acid. As expected, it punched straight through the solid plating of my spell, seeking to decay anything inside. The mana inside began to wither away like a rose deprived of water, shriveling and falling inward on itself.


    It was a strange sensation to experience, my connection to my own mana cut off in an almost slow, tenuous draw. But this was what I planned for. I smiled, then clapped my hands together.


    The awesome sphere of power exploded, but the outcome wasn¡¯t directionless. The wave of sound was funneled by my mana through the connecting tendril, smashing mana particle after mana particle together in a cascading wave. Mardeth¡¯s spell shuddered upward, carrying the force of a truck. Then the shockwave hit him. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For the first time, the vicar¡¯s body was affected. He visibly convulsed as the spell thundered across his insides. His milky eye was blown wide as he coughed, a single drop of blood dripping from his dark gray lips. He tilted slightly midair, his concentration disrupted.


    The premise of the spell wasn¡¯t far off from my normal sound shroud, which caused internal damage to an enemy by delivering a blow to the body. Instead, I directed a shockwave through a different medium than my fist. But I couldn¡¯t let up now.


    I rocketed from the ceiling, reaching for Promise. I moved as fast as I could through the air, pulling on the back of Mardeth¡¯s head with telekinesis and pushing against the ceiling at the same time.


    I blurred through the air, my dagger flashing with red plasma and a promise of death. I swung at Mardeth¡¯s throat, feeling a swell of hope. My own eyes could barely track my speed, and my body ached from the g-force, but I had a chance. The vicar was disoriented by my earlier spell, and I was moving so fast.


    Red steel flashed. Blood sprayed.


    Mardeth held the blade of my dagger in a heavy grip, the steel inches away from his stringy throat. The edge had cut all the way to his bones, and red blood tinted with flecks of lifeforce streamed down the weapon.


    ¡°Not bad, little mage,¡± he said, licking a stray drop of blood from his lips, seemingly recovered from my attack. ¡°But you misunderstand something.¡±


    I watched in horror as the vicar¡¯s hand squeezed further, blood spurting from his digits. Green acid began to seep from the wounds, coating my weapon and eating at the material. I felt more than heard the red-layered metal creak and groan under his grip.


    ¡°The Sovereigns are strong for a reason. Do you know why?¡±


    I tried in vain to pull my dagger away from that monster¡¯s hand, but to no avail. His fingers sank into the edge like a hand through butter.


    The vicar¡¯s palm latched onto my face in a blur, making me yelp. I clawed at his hand as my telekinetic shroud creaked. I pulled on Oath from far away, hoping it would give me a way out. My other weapon surged toward me, but the vicar batted it away with a tendril of acid, sending it out of my control.


    ¡°They felt pain, little mage. Pain at their betrayal. Pain from their exile. And pain from being forced to rule over us lessers! Pain from being pitted against the mighty dragons of the Indrath clan!¡±


    Mardeth threw me at the wall with the force of a train. My vision blurred as I slammed through the stone barrier, and then shot through several wooden crates. Wood splintered around me as I choked, my telekinetic shroud shattering on impact. My vision flashed as I fell in and out of consciousness with each crash. Dust and debris rose around me as I came to a stop., the broken walls and splintered wood around me telling a story all on their own.


    It took me a long second to grasp my situation. My body was embedded in a thick wooden crate, a Toren-shaped hole holding me like a stern grip. For some reason, I was coated in a green substance. The smell of it was pungent, invading my nostrils and fighting for space in my brain.


    I rolled forward, dropping from the splintered crate behind me with a groan. I looked through the mess of shattered wood and toppled crate towers in front of me.


    It took me another moment to recognize the substance coating my body. The green fluid that had splashed onto me from being thrown through the crates.


    Blithe.


    ¡±Move, Toren!¡± Lady Dawn called into my mind, spurring me into action. The adrenaline returned to my veins as a beam of green acid¨Cdarker than the blithe around me¨Cshot like a bullet toward my prone form.


    I used a telekinetic push against the ground, throwing myself into the air. I barely avoided the bullet as it ate through the crates near me, hissing and popping.


    My adrenaline returned in full force, ideas and worries and plans thundering through my mind as I took in my situation. Mardeth had thrown me into the main section of the warehouse. But that could also be to my advantage. I was terrifyingly mobile with my telekinesis, and there were a dozen more places I could¨C


    A tentacle of green sludge smacked me out of the sky. I slammed back into the stone floor, causing it to shake slightly. My telekinetic barrier¨Calready covered in cracks from being thrown around¨Csimply melted from the blow. Stray particles of the green spell still sizzled through my mana barrier, biting into my flesh and making me grunt.


    I threw up a hasty wall of plasma and telekinetic force as the tentacle slammed back down. The plasma actually managed to burn away some of the spell above me, but it was eating away at the mana I shoved into it.


    My arms burned as my mind raced, searching for a way out. Come on! I thought desperately as my mana left my veins and entered the only thing keeping me alive. I was running out of reserves at a startling pace. The tendril slammed back down, crushing me into the floor again. The earth around my back cracked, my bones creaking from the pressure. There¡¯s gotta be a way out! I need to run!


    The tendril came down like a whip, cracking against my bare defense. Drops of green acid ate through my spell, dripping onto my telekinetic shroud and eating through that too.


    ¡°But I don¡¯t have an Indrath to fight,¡± a voice as putrid as the acidic tentacle above me stated.


    Another tendril appeared out of nowhere, snaking from the side as I focused on the impending doom above me. It cinched around my ankle, devouring the mana around my foot with hunger. I screamed as the decaying spell ate into my flesh, melting past my best defense with ease.


    The tendril yanked me across the floor, hefting me up. For a moment I was weightless, my eyes darting around as I tried to catch a glimpse of my enemy. I saw a flash of grinning teeth, malevolent eyes, and a roaring heartfire, before my body was cracked into the floor.


    The ground shuttered, a crater ten feet across opening under my body. My telekinetic shroud shattered in its entirety, my grip on the Will weakening as pain threatened to consume me. The runes on my arm flashed as the basilisk within reared, its attention drawn by both the light of the phoenix and the pain that lanced across my everything.


    ¡°Move yourself, Toren Daen!¡± my bond urged, her words distant as the breath was driven from my lungs. ¡°He is coming!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to move, the pain so pervasive it dulled my mind. The Will flickered in my mind, my consciousness grasping for purchase.


    ¡°It has been so long since I felt pain,¡± a voice said from above me. ¡°Pain of body. Pain of mind. Pain of emotion.¡±


    My eyes focused on Mardeth, who loomed over me like the basilisk that he derived his bloodline from. A crooked smile was on his face as he knelt, a swirling vortex of acid around us. I noted absently that his wounds were healed somehow, his hand mended as if I¡¯d never cut it.


    ¡°Pain is what drives us to our greatest heights.¡±


    The sadistic mage reached out toward me with a long, disjointed grey finger. The nail on it was black, twisted, and sharp, and my breathing picked up as I tried in vain to move myself.


    Don¡¯t let him touch you! Don¡¯t let him touch you! Get out!


    But my body wouldn¡¯t move. My limbs failed to respond, the burning from exhaustion and acid making them worthless. My red chain flickered on my arm. The basilisk within shifted, almost awake.


    Mardeth drew his finger across my face in an almost tender gesture, wiping a drop of blithe from my cheek. He drew that finger over his tongue, shuddering with a perverse sense of something. His good eye closed, but a twitch in his face made me unable to tell if it was from agony or pleasure. ¡°You¡¯re going to feel pain, little mage. Pain as you dealt me. I¡¯m going to forge you into the Kezess to my Agrona.¡° He drew his finger down over my face, drawing a thin cut that leaked too-crimson blood. ¡±Will you break, or be like the Sovereigns?¡±


    This man is insane, I realized with wide eyes. I struggled anew, but my movements only grew weaker. My core was near empty, the salvo I had thrown earlier a drain on my reserves and my last desperate defense wearing me down further. My telekinetic shroud refused to reform.


    The vicar leaned forward, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me toward him. His breath was putrid as it scraped against my face, his eyes alight with almost manic glee. I moaned pitifully as I was wrenched from the crater my body had made, my arms limply trying to grasp at Mardeth¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re special, little mage. Only the witch who gave you those swords sees it. But I do. I¡¯ll make you see it, too.¡±


    He leaned even closer, his putrid lips right against my ears. ¡°But if you try and stop me again before we¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll hurt you. Pain can only do so much before it breaks a thing rather than builds it stronger. All the people I¡¯ve taken? Their lives are in your hands.¡±


    I barely had time to process Mardeth¡¯s words before the vicar slammed my head into the stone beneath me, and everything went black.

 Chapter 72: Beaten

    Toren Daen


    I came to slowly, a horrible headache pounding against my skull. Besides that, my body ached in a dozen different places, sharp and dull all over. It took me a moment to figure out what had happened.


    I was cold. Deathly cold. The chill ate at my flesh, sinking through my skin and biting my bones. The stars mocked me from on high, their warmth light years away.


    I was outside in the winter cold, clad in my thin dark clothes. The mana that usually coursed through my body to reinforce me against the weather wasn¡¯t there to protect me.


    I instinctually tried to draw mana from my core, the act second nature after so long. Instead, I felt the familiar pain of a close brush with backlash coursing from my nexus of power. The mana flowed, but it carried pain with it.


    I groaned in agony, trying to remember why I was beaten and broken under the sky.


    ¡°I told you you couldn¡¯t fight him on your own,¡± a voice said from nearby.


    I recognized it. And as soon as I recognized that voice, the reason for my pain crashed back through my head.


    The Doctrination¡¯s abduction of people. The infiltration. Finding the map of blithe routes.


    Mardeth.


    I had used my full power, then been swatted around like a fly. I was beaten once, twice, a dozen times into the stone. I was shown my weakness in full force.


    And the blithe.


    I snarled, moving my limbs. They ached with every shift as I hauled myself to my feet.


    My knees buckled as I stood, making me stumble into a nearby wall. Instead of despair, I felt a growing fury rising in my chest.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t move,¡± the voice said. ¡°You took quite a beating. Mardeth dumped your body out here a while back.¡±


    I turned lethargically toward the speaker. I recognized him immediately from his drooping mossy hair. I felt my anger redouble, my lips pulling into a snarl.


    ¡°I told you not,¡± I said, taking a breath through the sharp pain in my ribs. God, I hated feeling so weak. ¡°To follow me.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t following you,¡± he said, his eyes glinting slightly. ¡°Your body was dumped right in my path.¡±


    ¡°How many fucking times are you going to use that excuse?¡± I hissed, trying to force my legs to support my weight. I brutally flooded them with the trace amounts of mana left in my core, the warmth of my power clashing with the pain coursing through my everything.


    The mage furrowed his brows, slightly taken aback by my anger. I couldn¡¯t sense his team anywhere nearby, but I was broken right now. Who knew what I was missing?


    ¡°As many times as I need to,¡± he said slowly. ¡°You nearly got yourself killed.¡±


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t. I hope your ¡®employer¡¯ is happy about that. Without her trapped weapons, she needs a lackey to follow in my footsteps.¡±


    The mage arched a brow, undeterred. ¡°Try not to get yourself killed, Toren Daen. My ¡®employer¡¯ wants you alive.¡±


    Those words brought Mardeth¡¯s last words to the fore of my mind.


    ¡°Will you break, or be like the Sovereigns?¡±


    he¡¯d asked. He left me alive in some twisted attempt to build me up.


    Just like this Renea Shorn.


    ¡°Tell Renea Shorn that if she wants anything from me, she can start by actually doing something good,¡± I hissed, taking a shaky step toward the mossy-haired mage. ¡°There are over a hundred people being held by that psychotic vicar. You want me to be safe? Actually do something with your power.¡±


    I shoved past the man, our shoulders colliding. I knew I was the only one to feel pain from that.


    My legs shook with every step. Lady Dawn? I asked mentally. What happened after I was unconscious?


    My bond appeared in front of me as I continued to pitifully hobble forward. She had a pinched expression on her normally stoic face. ¡°You need to rest, Contractor,¡± she said softly. As if she was speaking to a child.


    ¡°Tell me!¡± I yelled, my patience wearing thin. I sensed the attention of Renea Shorn¡¯s mage behind me, but I didn¡¯t care. I wasn¡¯t weak anymore. The Toren who broke under the boot of the Joans was gone. He didn¡¯t exist anymore.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s face morphed slightly, my inability to mask my emotions over our bond telling her exactly how I felt. I felt my knees shake, my weakness pervading every part of my body and mind.


    No, I thought, trying to fight back a choked breath. Don¡¯t look deeper. Stay away from my shame.


    ¡°The lessuran dropped your body a few streets away from the warehouse,¡± Lady Dawn said after a quiet moment. ¡°You have been unconscious for nearly an hour. I do not know what became of your compatriots.¡±


    I looked past my bond. My anger burned like the heartfire in my chest. I took such solace in feeling like my actions had a purpose. And yet what was the point of that infiltration? I hadn¡¯t accomplished any of my goals. Instead of finding out where the people were held, I had been tossed around like a ragdoll.


    And that warehouse was full of blithe. I had felt certain this place was done with that. But if Mardeth was planning to send it back out into the slums? What did that mean for the hope the Rats had so carefully fostered?


    I remembered Mardeth¡¯s last words to me. ¡°But if you try and stop me again before we¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll hurt you. All the people I¡¯ve taken? Their lives are in your hands.¡±


    I screamed hoarsely into the night air. I turned as best I could, slamming my fist into the brick wall.


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    The wall should have crumbled before my power. Any other time, the bricks would yield before my strength. But my knuckles cracked, spraying blood. The wall stood imperiously, defying me just like Mardeth had.


    I was so weak.


    A cloaked figure dropped from a rooftop nearby, landing with a sharp clack of boots on stone. I turned in my hobble, noticing the Rat¡¯s mask over Naereni¡¯s face.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive?¡± Naereni said with a note of hopeful surprise. ¡°I felt the power that was being thrown around! I thought you were dead!¡±


    I noticed something clutched in her arms. Oath was unblemished as always, the red-patterned steel seeming dull to me. Promise, however¡­


    My dagger had divots in its blade for each of the spindly fingers of the vicar. They were deep, sinking nearly halfway through the steel. The edge was nearly ruined, only sparse points still bearing a cutting edge. The tip was still wicked sharp, but it felt like a moot point.


    I tried to latch onto the weapons with my emblem, an act that was past instinctual at this point. My rune felt warm for a moment, then the heat vanished like a candle in the wind. I snarled, hobbling toward the Young Rat.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said stiltedly, yanking the weapons from her arms. She released them in a rush, seeming skittish. ¡°That vicar nearly killed me,¡± I said, feeling an almost physical pain from the admission. I sheathed both my weapons, then paused. Renea Shorn¡¯s spy was close, watching our conversation with keen eyes.


    Naereni turned on him, a construct of ice manifesting in her hand. ¡°Hello, stranger!¡± she said with forced cheer. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re having a personal talk. Between teammates. Peeking isn¡¯t allowed, though you can RSVP for the next meeting at your mother¡¯s house. We were all there last night, after all!¡±


    The spy shook his head, his reed-like hair covering his face. He brushed off Naereni¡¯s blatant provocation. ¡°I¡¯ll give Lady Shorn your message, Toren Daen,¡± he said, turning to look at the slums. ¡°It has occurred to me that I know far less than I thought of the world.¡±


    The spy bounded away, clearly reinforcing his body with mana. Several other shadows joined from various alleyways as he left, the rest of his team regrouping.


    I had been able to sense them before.


    ¡°Who was that?¡± Naereni asked, looking at me with open concern. She gave me a more scrutinizing look. ¡°Vritra¡¯s Horns, we need to get you to a healer! You look like you were run over by an iron hyrax!¡±


    ¡°Renea Shorn¡¯s spy,¡± I said, looking toward the west. An idea fueled by the anger in my stomach was forming, drawing my attention. ¡°And I¡¯ll be fine, Naereni. Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±


    ¡°But your wounds¨C¡±


    ¡°Is Karsien alive?¡± I interrupted with a snap, unintentionally exerting my will over the ambient mana.


    Naereni jumped. ¡°Oh, yeah. He¡¯s fine. We found where the people are being held under the warehouse! We even spotted Wade¡¯s family. We¡¯ll rescue them soon!¡±


    I felt a phantom nail running down my cheek. Putrid breath eroding my senses.


    ¡°But if you try and stop me again before we¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll hurt you. All the people I¡¯ve taken? Their lives are in your hands.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t do it,¡± I said lowly, turning while using a nearby wall for support. ¡°He¡¯ll kill them. Kill them all.¡±


    Naereni shifted uncomfortably, looking at my battered and bloodied body. ¡°Who did you fight, Toren? We didn¡¯t see. But the entire place shook. It nearly collapsed the ceiling. The amount of mana being tossed around¡­ The pressure in the air¡­¡±


    I closed my eyes, taking a steadying breath. But whenever my eyes closed, all I saw was a milky pupil and its devious twin. ¡°Mardeth,¡± I said. ¡°The Vicar of Plague.¡±


    Naereni took a step back, shock emanating from her. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re alive?¡± she said, saying it as if it was a question.


    The anger in my gut, which had begun to settle, finally reared up again. ¡°I was left alive,¡± I snapped. ¡°I was toyed with, Naereni. And he told me that if I tried to save the people he¡¯d captured, he¡¯d hurt them all.¡±


    ¡°But¨C¡±


    ¡°That entire warehouse was filled with blithe.¡±I hissed, walking away. I used the wall for support, a single hand keeping me steady. ¡°And I found a map of distribution routes. It was all for nothing, Naereni. Nothing!¡±


    Mardeth was going to redistribute that horror drug to the populace again after we¡¯d gone to such lengths to eradicate it at its roots. All the progress this place had made in the aftermath?


    Naereni nearly tripped at my mention of blithe. I knew she had a past with the drug. She must have thought the entire district was done with that hellish substance, too.


    How naive we were.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, her voice seeming distant.


    I turned, drawing the wounded metal of Promise. ¡°I¡¯m going to get stronger, Naereni,¡± I said, clutching the dagger tight and holding it in front of me. ¡°I¡¯m too weak to help you now. But I promised to make a difference. I won¡¯t let that be taken from us.¡± Naereni raised an arm, clearly disquieted by my words. But I didn¡¯t let her worry stop me. ¡°But I will grow. And when I have enough power, I am going to nail that vicar to the effigies of his false gods. He will bleed for his sins. Then you can save those people.¡±


    I saw another figure in the deep dark of the alley. Karsien¡¯s eyes were shadowed, but I felt a kinship there. We had both been broken by this system before.


    ¡°I swear this,¡± I said lowly, drawing the ragged edge of Promise over my oath-chained palm. It tore a jagged cut, but the pain was overshadowed by my resolve. By my fury. ¡°On my Blood.¡±


    I felt a slight pull of¡­ something in my chest, resonating over and around and through my heart. The red chains on my arm glowed slightly as blood dripped down my arm.


    Mardeth wanted to make me strong; to forge me into his personal Kezess Indrath? I¡¯d show him the might of the sun.


    ¡ª


    ¡°You should not do this so soon,¡± Lady Dawn said, gliding beside me. She kept her eyes forward, but I could feel her attention over our bond.


    My emotions had cooled into more steady spite as time passed. I limped my way through the streets, leaving East Fiachra and the Rats behind. I had a goal in my stilted trek.


    And my bond knew it.


    ¡°You are wounded and¡­ compromised, Contractor. To rush into battle so soon would be unwise.¡±


    I felt my mana regenerating at a rapid pace from the feather in my core. Considering how long it was taking me to limp to the Ascender¡¯s Association, my nexus of power would be nearly full by the time I was there. My body was inconsequential. My magic would ease the burden.


    ¡°I was toyed with, Lady Dawn,¡± I said, using her title. ¡°Beaten around like a sandbag. If I don¡¯t take risks, I¡¯ll stagnate. Become fodder for this godforsaken system.¡±


    I nearly tripped on a large piece of rubble, stumbling and bracing myself against the wall. I cursed aloud.


    ¡°I feel hate for this vicar as well,¡± my bond said after a tense moment. ¡°His blood is a perversion of asuran and lesser union. A corruption of everything beautiful about children.¡±


    I turned slightly, my eyes widening as I felt her anger. This was the fury she contained every time the Doctrination had approached me. This was the root of that spite.


    ¡°I may not hate this man the same way you do, Toren Daen. But I know the fire that burns in your chest. I know both sides of your anger and shame.¡±


    I grit my teeth, thumping my back against a wall. I slid down it, my exhaustion seeming to redouble.


    ¡°I was captive for many, many years, my bond. I was held in chains that kept me from all that I knew and those I loved. And those chains only clasped my wrists once I became reckless.¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s burning eyes peered into my soul from above. ¡°Do not repeat my mistakes. Give yourself time.¡±


    I closed my eyes shut. ¡°I don¡¯t have time,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s all going to happen soon. And I¡¯m not strong enough to even fight that vicar.¡±


    My bond watched me, her brows furrowed in a way I recognized as concern. Her outline of purple and orange light pushed against the night around us. ¡°Then give yourself a single day. Recover. You cannot throw yourself into another battle so soon.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were against dictating my choices for me,¡± I said bitterly.


    ¡°I am not, Toren Daen. I am giving you advice, as you requested. I am telling you the truth.¡± S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I felt an irrational anger at the phoenix, but I banished it with a force of will. I wanted to lash out at everything nearby. To show them all that I wasn¡¯t a weakling to be trodden on. My actions made a difference.


    But my bond had been nothing but supportive, a solid rock in the heart of a storm. I could not lash out at her.


    I held my face in my hands, knowing Lady Dawn to be right. I needed to rest.

 Chapter 73: Twinsoul

    Toren Daen


    My anger followed me like a pursuing hound. I tore my way through the Relictombs, my blades reaping vengeance on any aether beast in my way.


    I felt half a beast myself. I held Oath in my hand, flourishing it against the large crocodilian that tried to gore me with its claws. Instead, my saber drew a thin line of blood through its thick, leathery hide.


    The monster whirled, undeterred by my attack. It stood on two legs, towering over me with a jaw that could eat my torso in a single bite. It snapped at me with that massive maw, but I pulled myself backward. Instead of a pound of flesh, the creature¡¯s jaws closed around a grenade of sound and flame.


    It burst within its mouth, making the beast rear backward with a roar. Promise streaked in from the side, the telekinetically controlled dagger ripping a jagged tear over the monster¡¯s eyes.


    It thrashed its arms about wildly, spurts of blood leaking from horrific cuts across its face. Promise didn¡¯t cut cleanly anymore, not after what Mardeth did to it. The dagger ripped and tore where it cut, digging out chunks of flesh from whatever it touched.


    Another crocodilian beast charged me, running on all fours like an ape. It kicked up swampy water in its wake, the marshlands around us murkily camouflaging everything in its path. The aether beast¡¯s thick, meaty tail flicked behind it. I threw a condensed fireshot at the creature, the fiery pockmarks making it tumble. Promise whirred toward the beast, drawing a jagged gash across its scaled gullet.


    I then turned back to my original prey. With a snarl, I yanked on its leg with my emblem. The creature, flailing about due to its lack of eyes, tumbled face-first into the soft, marshy ground beneath my feet. I glided by, driving Oath into its throat and withdrawing with a deft flourish.


    It choked to death on its own blood.


    I kicked the beast¡¯s corpse towards a long, serpentine form that was moving through the nearby water. Empowered by my telekinetic shroud, the seven-foot-tall scaled monstrosity soared toward the small ripples in the water.


    The snake-like aether beast, unprepared for several hundred pounds of corpse crashing into it, writhed about, splashing water and hissing.


    I heard that hiss. I saw its fangs. And I thought of Mardeth.


    I reached both of my hands out, sending waves of mana into my telekinetic spellform. I sent my mind outward, commanding the energy in the air to latch on and hold.


    A flare of white attempted to close in on the massive serpentine beast. An outline of purple rose to meet it, fighting off my attempts at direct control.


    It was extremely difficult to outright control creatures with mana or aether in their bodies. Their own innate defenses fought back, making it far more efficient to use pushes and pulls, which didn¡¯t draw that reaction.


    But as the serpentine form coiled, its innate aether defenses fighting against my attempts, I felt my anger only grow. Snakes lurked in every corner of this world, whether they be people or basilisks.


    I crashed my hands together, sweat beading on my forehead. With a yowl, my telekinetic emblem finally ripped away the monster¡¯s aetheric shroud, collapsing inward like an imploding star. I had control of the thirty-foot-long aether beast at last.


    I snarled, raising my hands with a little strain. The aether inside the beast was trying to fight back; reclaim its control and banish my spell. But I wouldn¡¯t let it.


    The beast floated through the air, then smashed through a stocky tree. I whipped the creature around, my rage guiding me as much as my reason. The creature¡¯s scaled hide cracked against another lurking bipedal crocodile, splintered through a tree, and then crashed against the water once more. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I felt the pushback from within weaken with every blow, the serpent¡¯s bones breaking with every strike.


    I could end it immediately. Considering I had control of the beast, I only needed to clench my fist, and a ton of force would concentrate around the monster¡¯s head, pulping it at my command. But I wanted to hurt it.


    I used the monster¡¯s body as a noose, wrapping it around a hulking, bearlike aether beast¡¯s throat. The bearlike beast snarled, clawing deep, bloody gouges into the thick meaty hide of the snake. On its own, those attacks would have sent the serpentine beast swimming away, its entrails trailing behind it. But I tightened my grip, forcing it to stretch like a garotte.


    The bearlike beast¡¯s eyes widened as the air was pressed from its lungs. Its struggles weakened, the sharp, glinting claws far from enough to free itself. It was covered in the serpent¡¯s blood, a gruesome fate for any monster.


    I hovered the mangled body of the serpent in front of me. It was still breathing weakly, strangled hisses and wines echoing from its mouth. Its scales were torn and battered from where I¡¯d used it as a club against the monsters approaching me.


    I looked into its eyes, remembering the pity I felt for the skaunter so long ago after shattering its leg. I could feel none in my soul right now.


    ¡°Do not become them, Contractor,¡± Lady Dawn whispered across my thoughts.


    I turned to the side. My bond was sitting on a low branch of a burly tree, watching the scene with an almost sad expression.


    ¡°You hate them, too,¡± I said with a snarl, feeling defiant. ¡°They¡¯d happily do the same to me. To all I care for in this world. Why should I be merciful toward those Vritra-blooded monsters?¡±


    My bond seemed to center herself, taking a breath. ¡°I hate what they represent, Toren. A heartless union between asura and man. One of apathetic science and heartless desire for power. Instead of love and life. Instead of something wonderful and new. That is why I hate the Doctrination.¡±


    I felt my appetite for carnage wane slightly. The beast I held in my telekinetic clutches no longer struggled against my control. Its aether no longer pushed to free it.


    I drove Oath through its skull in one quick motion, putting the serpentine monster out of its misery. Then I threw the corpse into the water with a heavy splash.


    ¡°But why?!¡± I said, turning on my bond. ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t I just say goodbye to my principles? This world seems happy to keep telling me I¡¯ll fail if I don¡¯t. The only people who succeed in Alacrya are those who sell their souls.¡±


    It was ironic, wasn¡¯t it? I¡¯d already sold my soul to the asura in front of me. What right did she have to chastise me when she acted just the same?


    My bond seemed unaffected by my anger, which only pushed the flames higher. But I let her think of a response. ¡°My brother,¡± she began, ¡°Was disgusted by the Indrath Clan¡¯s butchery of the djinn. Late at night, he would ail over the question of what he should do. Expose their crimes? That would never work. Look what happened to Agrona. Lead a revolt against the dragons? For all Mordain¡¯s strength, Kezess¡¯s mastery of aether put him beyond all of our fighting forces. Simply let the massacre slide?¡± The phoenix shook her head. ¡°So my brother found a different path. He left, just as Agrona did. And he sought out the remnants of the djinn, providing them sanctuary and protection for centuries. If not for that act of idealism; of principle? I would have never met my husband. My Andravhor.¡±


    My shoulders slumped, much of my anger draining out of me. Every day, I felt more and more of myself from my previous world become diluted and distant. The peace and future I experienced on Earth was becoming harder and harder to remember. How long until nothing of me remained, and Alacrya took its place?


    ¡°I¡¯m tired, Dawn,¡± I said morosely, looking toward the sky. ¡°It would be so easy to just--¡± I waved my hand in the air dismissively. ¡°Let it all go. Fight with everything I have.¡±


    I had only been in this world for around four months. How much longer would I remain? I¡¯d already killed men. Drawn blood in a way that would¡¯ve been inconceivable in my previous life.


    My bond didn¡¯t say anything in response. I felt a reassuring stream of emotion and understanding over our bond. It was a balm on my aching psyche, the warmth making me almost melt.


    I spent that next night with much less anger and a lot more sorrow.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡ª


    I stepped through the shimmering portal, bracing myself for the next zone. Would it be of extreme, muggy heat like the marshland from before? Or splintering cold, like the stretches of Antarctica?


    I felt my eye twitch as I stepped into the familiar scene of the American town zone. The road stretched onto infinity. The two familiar portals stood side by side at the end of rows of suburban homes.


    And yet this time, the houses weren¡¯t broken memories. The first time I¡¯d been in this zone, they¡¯d started off as almost cartoonish renditions of modern architecture, the proportions and colors wrong and disorderly. The uncanny valley had swallowed this zone whole. But the next time I was here, the place had smoothed over somewhat, like a builder was learning the ins and outs of his craft at an accelerated pace.


    And now, each house wouldn¡¯t be out of place on the outskirts of a city. The small lawns in front were neatly trimmed, a faint smell of freshly-cut grass wafting on nonexistent wind. I felt the constant watch of something, just as before. I was being scrutinized. Peeled back. Inspected.


    The last time I had been here, I simply left. I didn¡¯t see the point of investigating for too long. But now? Now I felt protective of my emotions in a new way. Whatever this presence was, it was taking knowledge of my previous world from my mind. Using it to craft this little zone.


    I looked around, feeling the presence, but unable to pinpoint it. The hairs on my arms stood on end, an instinctive reaction to being watched.


    ¡°Show yourself!¡± I cried, turning about and flaring my intent. I pressed into the expanse, trying to lash out in vain. ¡°Stop just watching me! Stop taking from my mind! Stop being a coward!


    ¡±


    Only the silence of the zone met my taunts. I felt no change in the observation. No change in the emotions of whoever¨Cwhatever¨Cwas looking down at me.


    I walked down the asphalt street, looking every which way. I drew Oath, snapping it to the side. The single-edged blade cut a light divot into the street as I walked, not even sparks signaling the slightest resistance.


    I grew tired of the silence. Tired of the non-answers. Tired of being powerless.


    I drew on my Will. It reacted as expected, meshing with my mind. I felt my knowledge expand, a chunk of understanding so intuitive I couldn¡¯t understand why I didn¡¯t see it earlier. But my senses also expanded, my own heartfire flaring in my chest.


    I looked around, my eyes narrowed.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to see a discrepancy. I couldn¡¯t see aether like Arthur could with Realmheart, at least not all forces of it. Lifeforce was an expression of aether, the fire that tied the soul to the vessel blaring in my eyes.


    And I might¡¯ve missed it if I wasn¡¯t looking so intently. A single, barely quivering ember of heartfire pressed against the ascension portal. I could see nobody around it; just the burning indication of life.


    I stalked forward, drawing Oath behind me like a scythe.


    I stared down at the fire. It was so weak; the last embers of a roaring bonfire. I could almost feel what it used to be. I pointed my sword at the fire floating in the air. ¡°Reveal yourself,¡± I said lowly.


    Nothing happened. No reaction from the fire.


    I pushed my saber forward slightly, not knowing what to expect.


    The moment my blade touched solid flesh, a body suddenly appeared in front of me as if resolving out of nothingness. My saber had drawn a light cut over its chest.


    No, I realized, taking a step back as I observed the person in front of me. A he.


    An old, old man sat in the fetal position by the ascension portal, grasping his knees and muttering quietly. His hair was thinning and white, a strange pearlescent sheen to his skin. The wrinkles I saw must have had wrinkles themselves, age radiating from the being like an ancient oak.


    And scrawled across his sagging skin were deep violet spellforms. They covered every inch of the body I could see.


    ¡°A djinn,¡± I said with a shocked whisper. The purplish skin and rune-covered body could only be one thing.


    Lady Dawn appeared by my side in a flash, her eyes wide and burning. My bond knelt in front of the man, who shook slightly. He didn¡¯t seem to even realize I¡¯d cut him slightly, muttering with distant, unseeing eyes.


    ¡°A djinn still lives in these tombs,¡± my bond said with restrained emotion.


    I looked at the djinn as he huddled. The spark of life over his heart was almost extinguished.


    He¡¯s dying, I realized. He¡¯s been dying for a long time.


    He continued to mutter, unaware of either my bond or I. I knelt lower, sheathing my blade. I felt like a single brush of a feather would make this man collapse into dust.


    I was just able to make out a repeated mantra, muttered under his breath.


    ¡°They can¡¯t see me. Can¡¯t find me. They can¡¯t see me. Can¡¯t find me. They can¡¯t see me. Can¡¯t find me.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°He¡¯s gone mad,¡± I said stiffly. A mantra that must have been repeated for an eternity.


    ¡°Did you know of this, Contractor?¡± my bond said, turning to me sharply. ¡°Are there others like him here? Trapped in these dungeons? You know more about this place than any other. Tell me!¡±


    I shuddered, tearing my eyes away from the mad djinn with an effort of will. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t think any lived. There were only relics that mimicked the djinn. Remnants, they called themselves.¡±


    ¡°Remnant,¡± the djinn said suddenly, his eyes still glazed. ¡°Remnants of everything. Everything crumbled. Entropy comes. Takes all.¡± His eyes snapped to Lady Dawn. ¡°You¡¯re a remnant. Lost soul. Twin-life taker.¡±


    I tensed. Nobody had ever seen Lady Dawn besides myself. She was invisible to everybody but me. Yet this djinn could see her?


    ¡°You hear me?¡± my bond said, reaching a hesitant hand to the crumpled djinn. Yet he had gone back to his muttering, ignoring her shaky gesture.


    But my attention was slowly drawn back to the atmosphere. The pervasive feeling of being watched didn¡¯t come from the shivering, mad djinn at my feet. It came from everywhere.


    ¡°Are there more djinn yet living in these tombs?¡± I tried, kneeling down in front of the djinn. He didn¡¯t respond, content to continue muttering to himself.


    I frowned, feeling pity for the man. He had no doubt once been among the pinnacle of mages in this world, but his mind had been shattered. By the Indrath Clan? By spending millennia isolated in these tombs? Or by some sort of experiment?


    I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± I asked more firmly, laying a hand on the djinn¡¯s shoulder.


    That got a reaction I did not expect. The djinn reacted to my touch as if it were fire, scuttling back along the concrete while half-hissing. Tears grew at the edge of his unfocused eyes.


    ¡°They took it. Took everything. My face. My home. My name. Just like she took everything from you to bring you here. But we made a better way. A way to test.¡± His eyes sharpened for the briefest of instants, a hint of the man he must have been shining through. ¡°We make a test for you, Twinsoul. To grant you insight. I didn¡¯t want to go, but they all did. I couldn¡¯t. Didn¡¯t. Wouldn¡¯t. Couldn¡¯t.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lady Dawn recoil, pulling her hand back as if stung. My mind burned with questions, trying and failing to assemble the pieces. Was this just the mad ramblings of a decrepit djinn? Or was there a grain of truth to them?


    But I felt the presence around me change at his last words. It seemed to withdraw for the briefest of moments, the constant weight¨Clike the pressure from being underwater, the liquid compressing your chest¨Cpulling back for a moment.


    ¡°Who are ¡®we?¡¯ And what do you mean Twinsoul?¡± I asked. It was at his mention of a test that the pressure shifted. If I could only find out what he was referring to¡­


    But the djinn just curled up into a ball, stray tears streaking down his face. His mantra changed as he drew inwards. ¡°Took my face. Took my home. Took my name. Took my face. Took my home. Took my name. Took my face. Took my home. Took my name.¡±


    Lady Dawn gathered herself and knelt by the man¡¯s body, running phantom fingers over his face. She peered into his eyes, but they gave no recognition.


    I tried several more times to get information from him. I asked questions, gently prodded at his body, and even tried to push mana around in an attempt to garner some sort of reaction.


    I let the first phase of my Phoenix Will fade as I eventually gave up, picking up the muttering man. He was almost weightless in my arms, the age and thinness of his gaunt limbs making him less than seventy pounds. I wondered how a person could live like this.


    My mind cycled through question after question as I numbly walked toward the houses. My feet seemed to move by themselves as I walked through one of the lawns, using my telekinesis emblem to pull open a door. My bond trailed behind me from several yards, a morose air to her.


    The djinn called me Twinsoul. He said everything had been taken from me. And he also said that someone was preparing a test for me.


    For insight.


    I had chosen the house closest to the exit portal. I had somewhat expected it, but the inside of the building had shifted just as much as the outside. Instead of the original blank, white room, I was met with something out of a commercial. Pristine furniture graced the living room, with a flatscreen TV facing away from the window. A ways past the couch, I could see the beginning of a fully furnished dining room, complete with a marble counter, oven, and microwave.


    I let all of this wash past me with a growing sense of detachment. I wasn¡¯t moving my body. I was piloting it from afar, distant from sensation and emotion. I wasn¡¯t in these tombs. I wasn¡¯t in a different world. I was on Earth, having a strange dream.


    I gently set the old djinn¡¯s body onto the couch, then went searching throughout the house. I managed to find a blanket from a bedroom that looked straight out of an Ikea warehouse, then gently draped it over the weeping ancient mage.


    I felt a headache pounding against my skull as questions hammered against the bone, trying to escape with every thump. I looked down at the old djinn for a long moment, feeling anxiety and dread pooling in my stomach. Of all the questions that churned in my brain, one rose above all others.


    I couldn¡¯t pretend to ignore it any longer. I¡¯d gotten too many hints. Suspected for too long. And now that I had gazed into the abyss, the abyss gazed back.


    ¡°Lady Dawn,¡± I said, still staring at the quietly crying djinn. ¡°How am I in this world?¡±

 Chapter 74: The Truth of Reincarnation

    Toren Daen


    My bond did not respond. A silence as quiet as death settled over the room, a strange mirror of everything I knew from my previous life. I had felt the decaying mana of the Vritra clan biting into my flesh, breaking down my mana and body into base components, then nothing at all. But the stillness that spread from our bond was more potent than the most powerful spell.


    I turned slowly, taking my eyes away from the ancient mage with a broken mind. I felt our tether go dark, Lady Dawn receding into herself as she had before the attack on the Joans. Her simmering eyes were dim as coals, giving her face a hollow look.


    She didn¡¯t meet my eyes. She kept her gaze trained on the decrepit djinn.


    ¡°How am I here?¡± I asked again, the headache in my skull demanding an answer. ¡°What did this djinn mean? He called me Twinsoul. He said¡­ said ¡®she took everything from me to bring me here.¡¯¡± I swallowed, staring at the phoenix¡¯s face. It traced the graceful contours of her immaculate expression, the hardness from our first meeting returning in force. ¡°What did he mean?¡±


    The asura didn¡¯t answer. Instead, she walked toward one of the plush seats, sinking down into the leather as if it would swallow her whole. Her phantasmal body made no indentation, no pressure indicating that the chair was occupied.


    ¡°Do you want to ask this now?¡± the phoenix said. Her jaw was tight. ¡°You¡¯re angry. Struggling to find direction after¡­ after Mardeth. Are you¨C¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me,¡± I said, cutting her words off. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I¡¯ve had guesses for a long time. But I could ignore those. They were just that. Guesses. A leaf on the wind.¡±


    The ghostly breeze that always rustled Lady Dawn¡¯s feathered hair stilled, her locks falling across her face and covering her eyes.


    I¡¯d always known, on some deep, instinctual level, that the answer to my question would hurt me. It would open a wound I wouldn¡¯t know how to close. It was why I avoided the answer for so long. But I couldn¡¯t pretend anymore.


    ¡°You will not like the answer you seek,¡± Lady Dawn said softly. I heard her words aloud only. Our link was an empty void, nothing transmitting over. ¡°It will hurt you. It will bring you only rage and pain.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°I have a right to know.¡±


    Lady Dawn shifted in her seat uncomfortably. For the first time in this life, I felt distinctly above the asura. She had done something, and she knew it. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Reincarnation¡­ reincarnation is difficult to understand. You need¡­ Anchors. Points to tie a soul to their new body. In essence, you fool a dead soul into believing it should still live. Repeating events create a symmetry, so the spirit can fit into a metaphysical¡­ gap in the puzzle,¡± the asura said. Her words were measured, yet I could feel the stone in them. ¡°And between worlds, there are sometimes ties. Bleedover. The ideas and beliefs of one meld into another. And sometimes something more.¡±


    I thought of the word asura. Indra and Vritra were the names of Hindu gods in my previous life. We had words for mana and aether despite having no true concept of either. The languages between entire worlds were nearly identical.


    ¡°And sometimes, there are more significant parallels,¡± the phoenix continued. ¡°Reflections in the Edicts. Long have the phoenixes delved into the mysteries of the soul, trying to divine their Truths. And yet sometimes, there is a cosmic mirror.¡±


    The words came to me, bubbling up unbidden. Some part of me understood this. Knew it intrinsically, as a child knows to cry when facing the world for the first time. ¡°Parallel souls,¡± I said, drawing on a truth distilled in my blood. ¡°Alternate selves. Soulmates.¡± I paused, struggling to speak. ¡°Twinsoul.¡±


    Norgan¡¯s body had been identical to my brother''s from my previous life. I could spot no difference between Toren or my past self, either. Except for an age difference, it was as if I had simply woken up in my own body.


    My blood went cold.


    ¡°When I cast myself out, severing my spirit from my body, my soul sought a symmetry. My spell was weaker than expected, so it pulled on something already present. It gravitated to an existing possibility,¡± my bond said. Her words were detached, each syllable carefully selected.


    I took a single step back.


    ¡°In one world, a burgeoning mage lost his brother,¡± Lady Dawn said, her tone nearly dead. ¡°A younger sibling was broken under the boots of undue might. Yet in another, both endured. The brothers lived together, pushing toward common goals. It was unaligned. The scales were unbalanced. And for my spell to pull from the weighted side, adjustments needed to be made.¡±


    ¡°Adjustments,¡± I hissed, all the pieces slotting together.


    My memory of my death in my previous world had always been fragmented. It came in blurry pieces: a flash of a headlight here. The vague sense of imminent fear. A resounding emptiness; a void that defied even feeling. But the details leading up were foggy and distant. What had I been doing the night before? How had I gotten into the car? Where was I even driving to?


    ¡°Your spell killed me,¡± I said with a breath. ¡°Somehow. It pushed me toward that car. Or took control of me. Or something.¡±


    The phoenix looked up at me with sad eyes. ¡°No, Contractor. You survived your¡­ crash. The details of my memory after casting my soul to Fate are¡­ blanketed. Covered by an expansive mist. But you may have lived on after the collision, were it not for the actions of my spell. It intervened when your body was at its weakest. When your tethers of heartfire were frayed and tearing, the aether that tied your soul to your vessel coming undone.¡±


    I turned around, staring anywhere but the phoenix behind me. My eyes searched desperately for something to focus on. Anything I could use to distract myself from the cacophonous pounding headache that threatened to tear itself out of my skull.


    I had dreams in my previous world. Things I wanted to be. I wanted to grow up. Fall in love with a woman who understood me. I would have a career in computers, working in the logistical areas I understood so well. Maybe I would one day have a family, passing my knowledge and experience on to my own children so they may do better than me. A legacy left behind. Something meaningful.


    But I hadn¡¯t just lost those dreams. The djinn was right. They¡¯d been taken from me.


    But it was Lady Dawn who had torn them from my life. Our bond ran soul-deep, the welling extent of my spirit intertwined with hers. It was unbreakable and inexplicable, cutting deeper than an ocean trench. I knew we could never truly separate. I understood our connection somewhere, deep in my bones, just as I understood that my soul had been a parallel to Toren¡¯s.


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    I felt my knees tremble as I grasped the wall for support. I felt adrift and confused. What should I do? Where did I go from here?


    Lady Dawn had been my pillar of support since arriving in this world. Whenever I was lost or confused, she was there with a word of stern advice and attempted comfort. When I anguished in the Clarwood Forest, she pushed me to train. When I nearly succumbed to despair in the platform zone, it was she alone who pushed me onward. She told me of her love of the stars. And her advice saw me through hell.


    But did I live with my own murderer tied to my soul for the rest of my life?


    ¡°Contractor¡­¡± I heard my bond¨Cmy murderer¨Csay behind me.


    ¡°Stop,¡± I said with a choked snap. ¡°Just, please. Leave me alone. Let me think!¡± I yelled, the house trembling slightly as my mana churned outward. Dust drifted from the ceiling, settling onto the wood-slatted floor.


    My emotions raged, their touch a grim claw raking against my mind. My sense of the world became distant. I had just started to make sense of everything. The house around me¨Ca sharp, searing reminder of my previous life¨Cblurred to my senses.


    I didn¡¯t see my bond disappear, but the Unseen World drew away from my eyes.


    I sank into the couch beside the maddened djinn, exhaustion drawing at my bones. I felt lost. As if my one anchor had drawn itself up, leaving me to bob and drown in a storm. I was treading water in a hurricane. Dawn¡¯s mental tether¨Cusually alight with a steady warmth¨Cwas dark and dim, like a campfire that had been dead for a year.


    I grasped at my hair, tears growing at the edges of my eyes. My direction always seemed so clear. So purposeful. Get stronger. Cross over to the other continent. Kill Nico. There were a dozen intermediary steps, but I felt so much more unsure.


    Did I even still try to prevent the reincarnation of the Legacy? It was what Lady Dawn tasked me to do. But the phoenix had slain me and drawn my soul to this world.


    Did I even still try to complete her task?


    ¡°What should I do?¡± I asked the room. The pervading presence had returned, bearing down on my body from everywhere and nowhere at once. I had a guess as to what it was, now. A fringe guess.


    After all, the Relictombs were said to have their own kind of sentience. And something was picking apart my mind. Did this sentient dungeon feel my anguish? Did it understand it? Could it tell me what I should do next, or was it enjoying another lesser falling to the hubris of the asura?


    I got no reply.


    ¡ª


    I awoke in a heap. My headache had diminished, drifting back to an effervescent thrum. I turned to the side, blearily recalling the events of yesterday.


    The djinn was gone. In his place, however, was a single orange feather as large as my forearm.


    I recoiled, the mana radiating off of it dreadfully similar to the pulsing from my core.


    I stared at it for a long time. The events from before I collapsed in a heap replayed in my mind, making my gut clench and overwhelming me with an urge to simply lie back down on the couch.


    If I went to sleep, it would all eventually go away, wouldn¡¯t it? I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the Legacy. Or about my previous life.


    Or about East Fiachra.


    I knew that my asuran bond could not have left this feather. She was silent; quiet after her admission of guilt. The phoenix feather sat there, the pristine plumes radiating a soft red afterglow. The other conclusion was that it had been left by the maddened djinn. But where had he gotten it? What was the purpose of leaving it here?


    I thought of my bond¡¯s words again.


    Adjustments needed to be made.


    I felt emotion streaming from my mind again, but I couldn¡¯t begin to decipher what emotion it was. Was I angry? Was I feeling betrayed? Was that sorrow wrapped up in it all? Or was I growing indifferent to everything in front of me?


    I didn¡¯t know. And that only made everything burn brighter. I was so used to knowing what I felt.


    I grasped the feather in my hand. The maddened djinn had left it behind, and I hoped it was a gift. I felt a swirl of mana, its density and expression outside my understanding.


    I felt a temptation to drain the mana out of the feather; draw it into my core and let the thing disintegrate. I didn¡¯t want to look at anything birdlike for another millennium.


    Instead, I drew the feather into my dimension ring, the enormous item vanishing in a whirl of mana. I stood up slowly, forcing my emotions into a little box. I imagined digging a deep, deep hole, throwing the box in, and burying it once more.


    I sighed, my mind going carefully blank. I stood up, moving toward the refrigerator of the house. My mouth was as dry as the desert zone I had traversed before, and hunger clawed at my stomach. I needed to eat.


    It was cold inside the fridge. Tiny little electric displays told me the internal temperature, a comfortable forty degrees. I wondered then how these worked. Did the Relictombs truly recreate electric components, down to capacitors and transistors? Or was the aether simulating the effect?


    Peering behind the fridge for a moment, I saw a power outlet with a thick cable plugged in. I blinked. While interesting, it really didn¡¯t confirm anything. And my curiosity didn¡¯t extend to sticking a fork into the outlet to test if there was actually electricity running through it.


    I sighed, my shoulders slumping as I returned my attention to the fridge. Inside were a variety of snacks and drinks. I had grown used to the Relictombs throwing familiar sights at me as I traversed them. I still hadn¡¯t quite expected to see a can of vanilla Coke.


    I grabbed the cool aluminum can, pulled it out, and checked over the ingredients. Yup, the Relictombs said this had caffeine.


    I popped the tab hesitantly, the sugary aroma of cola wafting into my nose. I felt that buried box of emotions stir in my mental backyard, but I closed my eyes and focused, shoving it deeper into the dirt.


    I took a sip of the drink. The sparkling taste of carbonation popping against my tongue felt so alien after months apart, yet so familiar at once. The caramel-colored concoction poured down my throat as I greedily drank, savoring the vanilla and nostalgia. It tasted of summer days after school. Of cramming for exams on little sleep. Of late-night talks with my brother, conversing on philosophy and the psychology of the human person.


    When I finished, my breathing was stilted. I threw away the can, grabbing the others in rapid haste. I pulled as many as I could into my dimension ring. When I realized I wouldn¡¯t have space for all my rations and the cans of sparkling soda, I hesitantly returned some to the shelf.


    This entire place had modern amenities. The TV turned on, displaying options for inputs and satellite, though there was no connection to be had. The water ran and the oven functioned, and I had preheated my daily tube of protein paste in the microwave.


    I left the house in a daze. I sighed as I turned around, looking at the suburban home. It was a living testament to my nostalgia, radiating warmth and hope for a past I would never have again.


    My tether with my bond was deathly silent. That was good. I didn¡¯t want to hear her right now. I didn¡¯t think I could look at her right now. Too many conflicting emotions arose at the thought of my soul partner. So I shoved them away.


    I looked up at the two portals at the end of the zone. One was an exit portal. It led to relative safety; the cold streets of East Fiachra. I wouldn¡¯t be hunted there as I would further on in the Relictombs. Mardeth may be waiting for me, but he was the devil I knew.


    I turned to the other shimmering purple portal. It led further into the Relictombs, towards trials and tribulations.


    I¡¯d never gone beyond this point. I¡¯d left after a few zones, content with my progress. But I looked at the brimming sheen of violet, I felt my emotions rise again.


    I couldn¡¯t keep pushing them away. Not without something to drive me forward. To keep me occupied, allowing that little box buried in the dirt to stay buried in the dirt.


    My hands gripped the hilts of Oath and Promise.


    I knew my choice before I even took it. I stepped forward, sliding through the violet portal.

 Chapter 75: City of Fear

    Toren Daen


    The Relictombs were, by nature, nigh impossible to understand. The twisting connections of spacial pocket dimensions transcended what was considered common sense, providing challenge and danger to all who entered. The djinn had condensed all of their world-bending knowledge, all of their understanding of the secrets of the universe, into each of these zones.


    Each dungeon floor was designed to bestow some sort of insight of aether to the ascender. It was a last-ditch attempt at preservation, keeping knowledge away from the oppressors.


    Few had made progress in gaining that insight. Instead, people only saw the surface-level rewards of gold and glory, skimming over the bountiful possibilities these tombs presented.


    If one could understand the way aether intertwined with the world, they could do anything. Rewrite space. See forward in time. Create new life.


    And as I gazed up at the towering structures of steel and glass around me, I found my already exhausted mind struggling to find a reason why. How could this place bestow any sort of insight? How could it lead to knowing aether?


    Because all I could see in the looming skyscrapers, casting a deep shadow under an overcast sky, was a heartwrenching reminder of my previous life.


    The zone I had stepped into looked like an Earthen city. Tall, corporate buildings kissed the sky, crisscrossed by miles of asphalt and concrete. Power lines trailed along the empty, forgotten sidewalks, where traffic lights changed color for long-gone cars.


    In my previous life, men would peer from the top of those towers, looking down figuratively and literally on the pedestrians below. People would mill in droves, walking to their jobs or classes or events or clubs.


    But there was not a soul in sight. I was in a city of ghosts.


    I felt something building inside my chest like a dam about to burst, the pressure increasing exponentially. It coursed from my lungs and into my throat. And then I couldn¡¯t contain it anymore.


    I laughed, deeply and sonorously. It echoed out into the dead street, a traffic light turning red. There were no cars to stop.


    My laugh was uproarious, pressing against my sides until it hurt. The breezeless air accepted my maddened cackle like a debtor, drawing it from my lungs with a command. I had dealt with the absurd for so, so long.


    I felt tears gather at the edge of my eyes. My chest ached from my laughter.


    The Relictombs had thrown so much at me. The constant reminders of my previous life were always there at the edge of my sight, mocking me with their similarity. The zone I had been in before was clinically close to a common twenty-first-century suburb, but it was small. There were ten houses at max, and then the illusion vanished.


    But this? This was a city. It was the pinnacle of old-world urbanization.


    I almost didn¡¯t notice when the atmosphere shifted, a strange force weighing in the air, running thin fingers across my spine. My laughter finally died as a hand cracked through the concrete near my feet with the sound of splitting rock. The fingers were gnarled and twisted. Grey, sloughing skin barely clung onto a skeletal forearm.


    A dozen more hands thrust through the asphalt around me, filling the air with the sound of crumbling stone. The things started to haul themselves out, allowing me to get a glimpse.


    They looked like mangled corpses, each and every one of them. Some were trailing their innards on the ground behind them. Others lacked skin everywhere on their bodies or only had one arm. Each body was unique, covered in armor and holding strange weapons in their thin hands. Many looked months into decomposing, but they stood and walked all the same.


    But the most haunting thing about the corpses arraying themselves before me were their eyes. They glowed a deep, calling violet. Those pupils seemed to flare in time with the weight in the air, all attention focusing on me.


    I barely had time to react as twin blades of wind scythed toward me. I flipped sideways, allowing each blade to narrowly pass by, but a sphere of sturdy stone nearly hit me. Instead, I used a telekinetic push to fling myself toward a lamp pole nearby.


    I balanced precariously on the pole, just in time to notice several of the zombies point their hands toward me lethargically. My eyes widened in surprise as fireballs and shards of metal blurred in my direction.


    I threw up a wall of pushing force, deflecting many of the errant metal shards. When the fireball reached me, however, I caught it in one hand, feeling the heat sear at my telekinetic barrier. I threw the fireball back down like the world¡¯s most lethal baseball, aiming for one of the closer zombies.


    A wall of ice arose to block the attack, causing a slight puff of steam. I glanced to the side, seeing another corpse¨Cthis one looking barely female, with long, decaying hair and without an arm. That one had acted to protect the other.


    It snarled a guttural, grating sound. Like that of nails being drawn over a chalkboard, yet somehow even worse.


    Blades of cutting wind soared toward me once more, shearing through the metal pole I stood on. It toppled forward, taking me with it. Yet I let myself fall toward the cluster of living corpses, instead conjuring a handful of fireshot around my head.


    Some of the zombies moved exceptionally quickly, some lingering trace of mana empowering their bodies. I focused on them as the metal pole fell.


    I let my fireshot fly with a burst of telekinesis, simultaneously drawing Oath and Promise. I sent out a plume of fire as a wave of frost, wind, and earth cascaded toward me, conjured by half a dozen ragged zombies.


    My fire was quickly overwhelmed by the many spells, but it allowed me to use my telekinetic pushes to vault over the approaching tide of mana.


    I surveyed the damage my spells caused in that split instant, feeling a wave of disappointment. I noticed a few smoking holes in the rotting bodies where my attacks had struck, but no blood seeped from their wounds. One of my fireshot spells had punched a hole straight through a corpse''s chest, a gaping void where the lungs should be. Yet it pulled itself forward, undeterred.


    I landed solidly, deflecting an errant blow from a corpse swinging an axe. The hit had a surprising amount of power behind it, but the blow was sloppy. Before I could follow up, another volley of attacks carved divots in the earth as the multi-elemental barrage soared toward me from every side.


    I deftly spun my saber, the cutting edge suffused with mana that enhanced its sharpness. It sheared straight through the axe-wielding zombie¡¯s neck, but I had to immediately throw a telekinetic push against the ground to avoid being overwhelmed.


    The spells clashed in a whirlwind of force right where I had been a moment before, the shockwave ripping through the air. The attacks made my leap out of the way twist slightly into a tumble, making me need to reorient as I tumbled.


    That made me unable to react when a stream of fire impacted me midair, blowing me off to the side. I crashed into the concrete with a thud, cracking the stone. My telekinetic shroud shuddered, but held firm. I twisted deftly to get my feet under me, lashing out with an indiscriminate wave of fire to clear the area.


    The corpses around me were scorched, pushed back with snarls and clicking teeth. They tumbled over each other as the force rippled outward, bodies falling over in a pile of limbs.


    That was when I noticed the make of the armor. Many of the corpses had armor with a slit down the spine, exposing tattered flesh.


    But some still had glowing runes along their spines.


    These were people, I thought with horror, realization dawning. These aren¡¯t just creations of the Relictombs. They¡¯ve raised corpses, somehow.


    I was unprepared for the second wave of hands thrusting through the stone. One of them erupted right below my feet, the skeletal hands immediately latching onto my ankles. I brought Oath down along the wrists, severing them with ease.


    But the bodies kept rising. Where before there had only been a couple of dozen, now I couldn¡¯t count the pairs of hands fast enough.


    I¡¯m going to be overwhelmed if I stay here, I thought, turning away from the slowly approaching horde and looking toward one of the tall buildings. They¡¯ll just keep coming.


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    I threw out half a dozen telekinetic pushes as projectiles swarmed toward me, flares of white meeting smashing through rock, wind, and flame. I tilted my head, letting an arrow of metal shear past my cheek. I heard it strike the concrete behind me.


    ¡°Toren!¡± a familiar voice called out with a hint of desperation. ¡°Over here! Come on, quick!¡±


    Any other mage would have had difficulty hearing it, but my sense of hearing was beyond comparable mages. I turned slightly toward the voice as more corpses piled closer, wondering if this was another trick of the zone.


    A burst of wind impacted the skull of one of the emerging zombies, obliterating it out of nowhere. Yet I recognized the spell that had just been used.


    Promise soared out of my hand, drawing a jagged line across an approaching zombie¡¯s neck. Oath, shivering with searing fire mana, decapitated another zombie. A burst of fire met another, though this one had a barrier of earth conjured to protect it.


    I turned about, trying to spot the source of the familiar voice. ¡°Toren!¡± it called. Another punch of wind erupted near me, blowing off a zombie¡¯s arm. It didn¡¯t even seem to notice, lethargically pulling itself toward me.


    I had to dodge to the side to avoid an erupting plume of fire, then I threw a sound grenade at an oncoming bolt of lightning.


    The sound grenade detonated like a gong, the ripples of mana disrupting the electric spell and making it fall short of my position.


    That was the biggest mistake I made. When that deep, sonorous rumble sounded, even more hands broke through the concrete, the corpses around me screeching in renewed fervor.


    ¡°They hunt by sound!¡± the voice said. I finally managed to pinpoint it, calling from above. I turned my head as I sidestepped a shard of metal, allowing a fireball to splash against my telekinetic shroud. A zombie leapt at me, hefting a giant mace. I used a push of telekinesis to send it to the side, but I could swear they were getting faster.


    Darrin Ordin watched from the window of a nearby skyscraper, a panicked look on his usually jaunty face. He watched as a dozen more zombies pulled themselves from the street. ¡°Get over here!¡± he yelled.


    I noticed some of the zombies turning slightly toward him, but each of my attacks made far more sound than he did. Every now and then, Darrin thrust a fist forward, a punch of wind blowing apart the zombies that got too close. But I was quickly losing ground, free patches of concrete being washed away.


    I slammed a ton of telekinetic force underneath me, adding an explosive piston stamp at the same time. I rocketed through the air, soaring toward the building Darrin was perched on top of.


    I felt my heart thrumming in my chest as I tried to escape, the wind tearing at my clothes. Yet as I twisted slightly, preparing for my feet to meet the building¡¯s wall, I saw the ground below.


    My eyes widened. The streets were a sea of seething purple eyes, all watching me in unison. The zombies glared at me with undisguised hate, mana whirling around each and every one of them.


    And then the volley started. Spells of every mana affinity shot in bolts and blasts and balls, trying to knock me out of the sky. Their aim was shabby, many of the projectiles going wide. But a fist-sized chunk of stone clipped my shoulder, sending a network of cracks along my barrier.


    I twisted slightly, easily adjusting for the strike. A dozen fireballs appeared in the air around me, flying off and seeking any spells that were getting too close. A baseball-sized chunk of stone nearly reached me, but a flash of telekinesis split it into a dozen shards before it could hit. Flecks of stone ricocheted harmlessly off my telekinetic barrier.


    I landed feet-first against the building, just below Darrin. He was peering out of a window, his fists clenched as he looked at the sea of enemies below.


    They were preparing another volley. I had no doubt it would tear this brick to smithereens.


    I spied a few of the newer zombies beginning to move through the crowd, a seeming purpose in their strides. The zombies that popped up more recently were less decayed than the others, their limbs and bodies intact. Instead of stumbling along, their movements were more intent, their purple eyes a deeper violet.


    Elites?


    ¡°Get in here!¡± Darrin said hastily, lowering a hand down to me, ¡°And use that spell of yours to kill our sound! That¡¯s how they hunt!¡±


    I took his proffered arm with a grunt, allowing myself to be hauled into the building. It looked like a typical office setup, with cubicles as far as the eye could see.


    Darrin immediately started running, not checking to see if I was behind him. His blonde hair was already matted with sweat. I pushed outward with a sound spell, muffling both my own noise and Darrin¡¯s. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± I asked, vaulting over a computer desk. Darrin shot me a piercing, panicked glare, raising a hand to his lips.


    ¡°Sound won¡¯t get a foot past us,¡± I said reassuringly. ¡°I¡¯ve erected a barrier around us as we run.¡±


    I spared a quick glance behind me as I heard glass shattering. One of the more intact corpses had thrown itself through one of the window panes, and several more were following. Its beady eyes were locked on me, a shortsword in its hand.


    ¡°You better have,¡± Darrin said after a moment, darting around a corner. I followed, using a pull of telekinesis to whip myself around the edge. ¡°Those necrotic bastards hunt primarily by sound. We need to get away from them first, then lay quiet!¡±


    A tendril of water lurched toward me from behind, but Promise came in from the side, shearing straight through the aquatic tentacle. The zombies were unable to match our speed, but more kept coming.


    ¡°You better have a plan to get us out of this building!¡± I said hoarsely.


    ¡°Trust me!¡±


    Darrin led me to the far end of the office building. We rushed past empty cubicles, the lighting overhead powered by unseen electricity. Papers were strewn across tables as if they had simply been left in the middle of a task. I couldn¡¯t stop to investigate, however, as I was forced to decapitate a zombie that got too close.


    ¡°Should I distract them with a sound grenade?¡± I asked. It seemed like Darrin and I were making progress as we bounded up a flight of stairs.


    ¡°That will just make more of them appear, even if it gets some of these undead off our backs,¡± Darrin replied with labored breath. ¡°No, we just need to get to the roof!¡±


    We burst out of a metal door, the lock shearing as two strengthened mages slammed against the bar. It barely slowed us down as we burst back out into the open air, an overcast sky greeting us.


    Darrin immediately turned around, throwing a metal can in front of the roof access door. He lodged it shut, trying to make a barrier against whatever came up after us.


    We were about five stories up. Nearby, a skyscraper stretched three hundred feet into the air, casting us in its dim shadow.


    ¡°What now?¡± I said, feeling slightly breathless. We¡¯d gained a lead on the undead by a decent margin, but I had no illusions they wouldn¡¯t catch up if we loitered.


    Darrin narrowed his eyes at the nearby skyscraper. ¡°We¡¯re going to get into that tower of steel and glass,¡± he said. ¡°The rest of my team is there. But you¡¯ll need to jump to get to it.¡±


    ¡°The skyscraper?¡± I said, feeling a bit confused. ¡°I can make that jump, sure. But what about you?¡±


    ¡°Skyscraper?¡± Darrin replied, side-eying me. ¡°That¡¯s a good name for the building. I¡¯ll have to remember it.¡± The leader of the Unblooded party flashed me a grin that was a painful attempt at his usual jaunty smile. ¡°And you¡¯ll have to throw me across.¡±


    My thoughts were interrupted as the door shook, a deep dent appearing in the metal.


    ¡°Alright, alright!¡± I said, stepping backward and preparing to run. ¡°Jump right after me, okay? You¡¯re going to feel some resistance from my emblem. Let it through!¡±


    Darrin nodded, just as the door exploded in spellfire.


    I jumped, using a burst of telekinesis and piston stamp to launch myself high into the air, arcing toward the concrete walls of the skyscraper. A barren street passed underneath me, devoid of sound or life. I reached a hand toward the building, lashing out at it with a telekinetic pull. I lurched forward quicker.


    Darrin couldn¡¯t jump nearly as far as me. I quickly sped past him in the air as I continued to climb, my magic far more suited to mobility.


    But I didn¡¯t let that stop me. My other hand snapped behind me as Darrin reached the apex of his arc, his short clothes flapping in the breeze. My emblem activated, my own spell trying to take hold of the man.


    It shuddered against Darrin¡¯s natural mana defenses. The striker began to fall.


    Come on, come on! I thought, gritting my teeth and sending more mana into the spell. Drop your goddamn defenses, Darrin!


    My emblem snapped into place just as Darrin nearly left my range. I hauled with my mind, feeling the strain on my magic as I simultaneously pulled myself to the skyscraper and tugged on a man behind me.


    Darrin whooped, which was thankfully still muffled by my sound bubble. His eyes were blown wide with adrenaline, a mix of excitement and terror on his face.


    We struck the skyscraper. Darrin immediately scrabbled for a handhold, slipping for a moment before he managed to tag the ledge of a window. I simply clung on by using telekinetic pulls against my foot and hands, clinging like an absurd cross between a ninja and Spiderman.


    My heartbeat thrummed in my ears, my blood pulsing in my veins. I turned back to the building we¡¯d leapt from, meeting the baleful purple eyes of the undead. They had stopped, watching us from afar.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t think we¡¯d make it,¡± Darrin said with a slight chuckle. ¡°By the Sovereigns, that was a rush.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s stopping them from following us further?¡± I asked breathily, hanging on desperately. The attention of the undead was still fixed on us with laser focus.


    ¡°They won¡¯t follow us if we¡¯re far enough away,¡± Darrin said, pulling himself up to a better position on the skyscraper. His face took on a solemn cast. ¡°Is your team okay?¡± he said suddenly, looking down at me. ¡°I only saw you when I went to check. Did those corpses get them?¡±


    I swallowed, thinking briefly about my bond. Is my team okay?


    ¡°I¡¯m on a solo ascent,¡± I said absently, maintaining eye contact with the eerie undead down below. There was some sort of familiar¡­ tone, drifting through the air. But I couldn¡¯t put my finger on why it felt so intimately recognizable to my subconscious. ¡°I wasn¡¯t with anybody.¡±


    I felt Darrin¡¯s eyes piercing my back. ¡°We should get to my team,¡± he said slowly, a note of something undecipherable in his voice. ¡°Come on. It¡¯s not good to be out in the open for too long.¡±


    The ascender casually smashed one of the glass panes, vaulting in. After a last glance at the undead behind me, I followed after him.

 Chapter 76: The Lay of the Land

    Toren Daen


    I followed after Darrin slowly, my thoughts a jumble. The fact that this zone imitated a city was a constant point in my mind, throbbing like a wound.


    I had no illusions about the fact that my presence must have caused this zone to somehow change. This was my fault somehow.


    ¡°My team is a few floors up,¡± Darrin said, his breathing finally evening out. ¡°We¡¯ve been here longer than I¡¯d care to admit, so we can get you sorted.¡±


    I ground my teeth. ¡°How long have you been here?¡± I asked as we entered a stairwell.


    Darrin was quiet for a moment. ¡°Nearly three weeks in our time,¡± he said with a slight, defeated air. ¡°The undead are an effective barrier to getting anywhere in this zone. It¡¯s nearly impossible to explore without causing an entire graveyard to pull themselves out of the stone.¡±


    That news was worse than I expected. The Unblooded party was among the best ascenders. Considering they¡¯d been stuck in a single convergence zone for weeks spoke to the difficulty of this place.


    ¡°But that can change, now,¡± Darrin said, opening a door to another floor. ¡°You¡¯ve got some sort of rune that lets you dampen sound. That¡­ that will change everything. We¡¯ll finally be able to get out of here.¡±


    The floor in front of us opened up like a penthouse apartment. The ceiling was tall, a balcony with a glass railing looking down over a wide living area. Couches surrounded a coffee table, and I could see an elaborate kitchen setup off to the side.


    I recognized Jared lounging on one of the couches. His beard had gotten even longer since I¡¯d last seen him, clearly lacking any sort of maintenance. He was snoring slightly, his hammer resting on the ground beside the couch. His shield was leaning haphazardly against the back.


    Alandra was sitting across from him, her auburn hair a mess. She had bags under her eyes, and the slump of her shoulders had a defeated air to them. Her freckles didn¡¯t stick out to me as they did in the desert zone, and her white and red battle robes were marked with cuts and burns.


    But there was another woman across from them, looking at some sort of map. Her hair was a darker blonde than Darrin¡¯s, but her pale blue eyes were the first to catch onto our entrance.


    ¡°Darrin,¡± she said, standing up, a frown on her face. ¡°You made it back?¡±


    Darrin smiled slightly, some of his usual jauntiness shining through as he met the stranger¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I can¡¯t let Jared keep napping all the time, after all.¡±


    Alandra perked up next, her tired eyes widening when they landed on me. ¡°Toren?¡± she asked, wiping at her eyes as if she wasn¡¯t believing them. She looked at Darrin once more. ¡°Was he the one that you found?¡±


    Darrin nodded, clapping me on the back. ¡°We heard the sounds of your battle from up here, Toren,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s happened quite a few times in the past weeks. I¡¯ve tried to get to the ascenders that pop into the tombs, but it¡¯s rare that I¡¯ve actually reached them in time. And even rarer that someone gets out alive,¡± he said somberly.


    ¡°Toren?¡± the dark blonde woman asked, standing from her chair and setting down the map she was looking at. ¡°As in Toren Daen? The mage you took on a prelim a while back?¡±


    Darrin ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I almost forgot to introduce you two! Dima, this is Toren of Named Blood Daen. Toren, this is Dima, our caster. She wasn¡¯t able to join us last time, unfortunately.¡±


    I nodded to the caster. ¡°Pleasure to meet you,¡± I said. ¡°Though I wish it would¡¯ve been under better circumstances.¡±


    Dima snorted. ¡°I heard you had an eventful prelim, though,¡± she said. ¡°Shame I couldn¡¯t join. But I¡¯ve got family back home I need to spend time with.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather spend time with family of my own than fight scorpions,¡± I said with a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach my eyes. I didn¡¯t like being reminded of my slipping memory. How long until I forgot my brother¡¯s face, too? Until the voices of my family became indistinct and grainy, worn down against the winds of time? ¡°If there¡¯s anything Darrin and I agree on, it''s that we hate insects.¡± S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Dima¡¯s eyes traced over Darrin. ¡°Is that so?¡± she said, cocking her head slightly.


    Darrin rolled his eyes. ¡°We have a mutual distaste for things with more than four legs.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re fundamentally wrong,¡± I affirmed, shuddering slightly as I remembered the scorpion at the end of the desert zone.


    Alandra settled back into the couch, closing her eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m sorry you¡¯re here, Toren,¡± she said with a sigh. ¡°We¡¯re stuck here. Have been for a while.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Can¡¯t you locate the portal with your spell?¡± I asked, remembering her strange fire compass.


    ¡°I did when we first got here,¡± she said with a quiet sigh, not opening her eyes. ¡°But you can¡¯t go near the ground at all. That¡¯s why we¡¯re all up here, close to the clouds. Any sound that makes it to those strange roads makes those horrid undead burst from the ground.¡±


    Alandra seemed to wilt. I felt disjointed seeing the cocky conjurer so disheartened. ¡°Surely there are other people in this convergence zone you can work with,¡± I hedged. ¡°There¡¯s no way everyone who entered here besides you has died.¡±


    Dima responded in place of Alandra. ¡°There are a few other groups holed up in the other steel towers. But they¡¯re extremely distrustful. We¡¯re all almost out of limited food and water, making barely any progress in getting to that portal. Darrin saw the place from afar. It is an island with a tall, tall steel tower. And around that island is an entire lake.¡±


    Darrin¡¯s face took on a determined look. ¡°That¡¯s going to change now,¡± he said with confidence. He looked at me from the side of his eye. ¡°Toren here can nullify sounds around him. Perfect for getting past these undead.¡±


    Alandra perked up, blinking and looking at me. Dima didn¡¯t look so convinced. ¡°That¡¯s real nice, Darrin,¡± she said, ¡°But we won¡¯t be able to do anything if we don¡¯t get more supplies. I haven¡¯t eaten in two days. And my water won¡¯t last through tomorrow. And I know you haven¡¯t touched a bite of food for almost a week.¡±


    She looked at him imperiously, as if that tidbit of information cemented her argument. I swallowed, taking another look at Darrin. On second inspection, maybe his cheeks looked a little too hollow. His form a bit too gaunt.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, Dima,¡± the leader of the Unblooded Party said dismissively. ¡°We¡¯ll get out of here soon enough, you¡¯ll see¨C¡±


    ¡°And if there¡¯s another zone after this one?¡± she snapped. ¡°What then? Will you just let yourself starve?¡±


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    ¡°That¡¯s not going to happen,¡± Darrin said stiltedly, the tension rising in the room. Alandra covered her face with her hands, leaning over in a defeated posture. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, okay? Just like every time.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t like every time,¡± Dima snapped, moving closer. ¡°This zone is like nothing we¡¯ve ever seen before. Nothing anyone has seen before in the Relictombs. It''s an alien city!¡± she said, throwing her hands up. ¡°This is an entire city! It¡¯s like the ghost of a civilization! The Relictombs have always been strange, but¡­ But I¡¯ve had to kill things that shouldn¡¯t be able to move. How can you expect the next zone to go back to the norm?¡±


    I stepped back slightly, feeling a wave of guilt. Dima hadn¡¯t directed the words at me, but I couldn¡¯t pretend anymore. This exact situation had been what I feared so deeply on my prelim: getting the group caught in a trap they couldn¡¯t escape.


    How many people had Darrin seen swallowed the moment they stepped into this zone? How many people died because of my effect on the Relictombs?


    I looked across the apartment as Darrin and Dima continued to have their back and forth, my mind disassociating. Alandra ignored it with a tired gaze on the floor, defeated utterly. Jared simply slept through his problems.


    My mind began to tumble about, lost in waves of regret. If I hadn¡¯t come into the Relictombs, these people wouldn¡¯t be trapped. They wouldn¡¯t be facing such hell.


    ¡°--so where will you get us more food?¡± Dima challenged, her arms crossed. ¡°Just take it from the other groups around here?¡±


    Dima¡¯s words sparked something in my subconscious. I remembered how the town zone before this one had been stocked full of food in the refrigerators. I didn¡¯t know much about this place yet, but I¡¯d seen something on the ground when I had been fleeing the zombies. If the odds were good¡­


    Darrin had a pained look on his face, but I spoke up before the argument could continue any longer. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few weeks of food to spare,¡± I said, cutting through the spat. ¡°But there might be a better solution available to us.¡±


    Darrin turned to me, a thankful flash in his eyes. Dima tilted her head, looking at me with surprise. ¡°What do you mean, Toren?¡± the striker asked, taking my offered way out thankfully.


    I licked my lips. I had to be careful about this. In how much I showed I understood of this place. ¡°When I was fighting the undead,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I saw a building. It was a store, I think. One that probably has food inside. And with my ability to quiet our footsteps, we can get down there. Restock on all the supplies we need.¡±


    That made both Darrin and Dima pause. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± the blonde striker asked slowly. His piercing green eyes looked me over quizzically. ¡°If you¡¯re right about that, it¡¯s worth a shot¡­¡±


    Dima didn¡¯t look so convinced, but she relented anyway. ¡°If you can get some food from this¡­ horrid zone, we can work on more long-term plans.¡±


    Darrin¡¯s hand rested on my shoulders as he gave Dima a strained smile. ¡°I¡¯ll go with him,¡± he said. ¡°Make sure he doesn¡¯t get himself into too much trouble.¡±


    Darrin turned me around forcefully, marching us both away from the penthouse. It was only because of my enhanced hearing that I picked up Dima¡¯s words.


    ¡°You can¡¯t keep sacrificing yourself forever, Darrin,¡± she whispered, a strange longing in her eyes.


    ¡ª


    Darrin made for the stairwell, but a tug from me drew the confused striker in a different direction. I was feeling numb, each movement more like an echo of what I truly wanted. I stopped in front of a pair of elevators.


    The striker looked at me like I was a loon. I ignored him as I pressed the button to go down. Predictably, it lit up as I made the selection.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Darrin said, looking at the elevator doors. ¡°What¡¯s this do? Shouldn¡¯t we be taking the stairs?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever seen a mechanical lift?¡± I said, trying for an apt comparison.


    Darrin nodded. ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re used for the construction of some of the bigger buildings.¡± He paused. ¡°Wait, are you implying that this is a lift?¡± the striker said, a bit incredulous. ¡°And it will take us all the way to the bottom?¡±


    We were about twenty stories high in the air. I understood Darrin¡¯s confusion if all he had seen were winch mechanisms. ¡°It makes sense, yeah?¡± I said, gesturing to the buttons. ¡°One for up, one for down. If this place was a city, people can¡¯t afford to walk all those stairs every day just to get to their jobs.¡±


    Darrin didn¡¯t look convinced, but the elevator opening with a ding spared me any more explanation. I entered without hesitation, immediately looking at the buttons arrayed before me. I pressed the one labeled as the first floor as the striker slowly entered the small box, a frown on his face.


    I had to hold him back from lashing out with his gauntlets as the doors shut us in. ¡°Easy there,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°It¡¯s going to take us down now.¡±


    Sure enough, the elevator box began to lower. Darrin looked positively unnerved by the experience, which made me chuckle slightly. Over the speaker above us, a song began to play.


    Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk


    I''m a woman''s man, no time to talk


    Music loud and women warm, I''ve been kicked around


    Since I was born


    I ground my teeth. The beat was familiar to me. I never knew these lyrics by heart. Did that mean the Relictombs had drawn them from my actual previous world? Or had I actually known them all along? ¡°Things seemed tense with your team,¡± I said, trying to escape the constant reminders of my previous life. Maybe the words to the song were just made up, only following the tune?


    Darrin sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve been cooped up in that little apartment for weeks without hope of escape,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Whenever I notice a disturbance down below, I try and go out to see if there¡¯s somebody I can save. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re the first success. It¡¯s wearing us all down. Burning away our hopes.¡±


    The music continued to hack at my ear, chipping my patience away note by note.


    And now it''s alright, it''s okay


    And you may look the other way


    We can try to understand


    The New York Times'' effect on man


    ¡°What about that island where the exit portal is?¡± I asked, trying to ignore the song. The elevator continued down and down, the little number at the top of the display ticking lower. Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve¡­ ¡°It can¡¯t all be hopeless.¡±


    ¡°It''s on an island at the center of a lake,¡± Darrin said, running a hand through his hair. ¡°The tallest ¡®skyscraper¡¯ I¡¯ve ever seen in this zone. It nearly pierces the clouds, and there are undead around it. If we want to actually make it through, it would take one hell of a plan. And¡­¡± Darrin licked his lips.


    Whether you''re a brother or whether you''re a mother


    You''re stayin'' alive, stayin'' alive


    Feel the city breakin'' and everybody shakin''


    ¡°And?¡± I prodded, clenching my fists. I forcefully breathed in and out, trying to center myself. This space was so close. Nine, eight, seven, six¡­


    ¡°There¡¯s something in that lake. I could sense it. Some sort of horrid monster, nesting there like a king. I couldn¡¯t get closer to the water¡¯s edge. I feared¡­ I feared it would see me,¡± Darrin said, not noticing my rising anger.


    And we''re stayin'' alive, stayin'' alive


    Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin'' alive, stayin'' alive


    Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin'' alive


    My mind went blank for a moment. All the pent-up stress, my failure to keep these people out of harm¡¯s way, the truth of my reincarnation, and that horrid fucking tune scraping at my eardrums¡­ It burst out of me like a storm. I whirled, slamming my mana-enhanced fist into the wall of the elevator. The speaker, which had been spewing ¡°Stayin¡¯ Alive¡± as if there was no tomorrow, crumpled around my fist. The song cut out abruptly, sparing my mind any more reminders of Earth.


    The elevator doors opened on the bottom floor. ¡°I¡¯m going to get you out of this zone,¡± I promised Darrin, who was looking at me warily. ¡°I¡¯m going to get everyone out of this zone.¡±

 Chapter 77: Convenience

    Toren Daen


    I peered over the edge of the rooftop, looking at the milling undead below. Their skin was sloughing off, all in various states of decay. Instead of bright, shining violet, their eyes were dull pinpricks of purple. They wandered about lethargically, dragging themselves without purpose.


    Most had cuts along their spines where half-decayed red runes stood out, making my head swim with questions.


    ¡°So they just stay in the streets even after losing aggro?¡± I asked Darrin, who was crouched by my side.


    He nodded, his eyes trained on the next building. ¡°Once they pop up, they don¡¯t go away until you cut off their heads or pierce their hearts. They¡¯re unrelenting, horrid bastards, but most are easy to fool.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Most?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The ones that chased us up the stairs back when I found you,¡± Darrin said, ¡°Those ones pop up if the mages they¡¯re fighting don¡¯t die fast enough. They¡¯re smarter, faster, and more deadly. You can avoid these grunts just fine by muffling your steps, but those ones will follow you even if you don¡¯t make a sound. And they¡¯ll compel the others to follow.¡±


    I remembered the zombies that had tracked us so far, only letting off once Darrin and I leapt to the walls of the skyscraper. Their skin hadn¡¯t been nearly as decayed as the other corpses, with most of them largely intact. What did that mean? Did these zombies lose their abilities as they decomposed? Or was it something else? Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°So we stick to the rooftops,¡± I said, ¡°At least until the store I saw.¡± I looked back at the striker. ¡°How do you feel about being hauled through the air?¡±


    Darrin¡¯s sharp emerald eyes flashed with something giddy. ¡°Like you did to get me to the skyscraper¡¯s walls? I¡¯d be up for that any day.¡±


    ¡ª


    And so we found ourselves hopping from building to building. I pulled Darrin along, the man whooping in the air beside me.


    It was a noticeable drain on my mana reserves to hold a grown man in the air, made even more difficult by the fact that he had to keep watch on his own mana constantly. If he let his focus slip for even an instant, his natural defenses would lash out at my control, ramping the difficulty up exponentially.


    The striker seemed to be enjoying the ride far more than I was. I looked down at a street, a few corpses meandering here and there along the decimated pavement. I held my arm behind me, suctioning my hand to the bricks. The soles of my feet lashed themselves to the wall, keeping me from falling. I hung there like a certain web-slinging superhero, watching for any of the elite zombies that might see through my sound-dampening.


    I was close to the store I¡¯d spotted coming in. The signs of my previous battle were all around me: scorched earth, cuts in the building where the wind had ground against stone, and shards of metal still lodged in the street. I spotted the metal pole I¡¯d perched on, cut cleanly through near the base.


    And then I finally spotted my quarry. A bright sign illuminated a dark storefront, a splash of color amidst the ever-present gray.


    Trader Joe¡¯s.


    I looked down the street, keeping my eyes peeled for the elite undead who were smart enough to attack me on sight rather than sound. ¡°See anything?¡± I asked Darrin. The sound barrier I maintained around us made it safe to talk, and it was always good to have a second pair of eyes.


    ¡°Can you float me around that corner?¡± he asked, pointing toward the edge of the building I was hanging off of. ¡°We gotta check our corners.¡±


    I obliged, willing the mana carrying him to shift him further. The control aspect of my telekinetic spellform didn¡¯t have the same issues with power exertion over distance. The force I could exert with my pushes and pulls decreased linearly the further they got from my body. With absolute control, however, it was more complicated. The further the mana was from me, the harder it was to maintain: not in an easy-to-discern way like the other aspect, though.


    It was a shame I couldn¡¯t make myself fly with my telekinesis. Everything I controlled moved relative to my own body, so I couldn¡¯t make myself simply hover.


    Darrin peeked his head around the corner, swiveling his head. ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± he said, allowing me to draw him back. He followed my gaze to the Trader Joe¡¯s sign. ¡°Is that where we¡¯re going? It doesn¡¯t look special.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied.


    I let us drop to the battered concrete, feeling an invisible weight leave my core as I released Darrin from my shimmering white telekinesis. Our feet touched down silently.


    I darted toward the sliding doors of the whole foods store. I waited for a second in front of them for a moment.


    ¡°So, what are we waiting¨C¡± The doors opened as the sensor detected my presence. ¡°For¡­¡± Darrin finished awkwardly.


    I stepped in, my head darting left and right for the undead. The inside of the store was just as it might have been on Earth: a grocery aisle, one for dry goods, and more.


    I was immediately struck by the smell. The odor of rotting vegetables assaulted my nose the moment I stepped inside, nearly making me gag. It wasn¡¯t as bad as the Fiachran sewers, however. The source of the stench was quickly apparent: every single bit of produce left out was rotting, their deep brown juices soaking their stands.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Darrin said, more taken aback by the smell than I was. ¡°Is all the food here rotten?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, stepping into the store once I realized there were no undead waiting. ¡°Just the produce. It¡¯s been left out for a long while, after all,¡± I said.


    It made sense. Darrin said he¡¯d been here for three weeks. All the perishable goods in this place hadn¡¯t been rotated in nearly a month at least.


    Darrin followed after me in a bit of awe as I navigated to the dry goods section. ¡°I wondered how an entire civilization could feed themselves, packed in like sardines,¡± he said, his eyes tracing over everything. ¡°But if there are a whole bunch of places like this, it makes sense.¡±


    I grunted, not really listening. I knelt down in front of a bag of rice, turning it over. It was a good twenty pounds, labeled ¡®Mahatma.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m going to grab all the rice I can,¡± I said, not looking back at Darrin. He still seemed to be in a bit of a daze. ¡°You should probably get whatever you think your team needs.¡±


    The piercing green eyes of the striker landed back on me as I inspected the bag. ¡°Why are you focused on rice?¡± he asked, sounding a bit confused.


    I sighed, then hefted the bag up to show him the back. ¡°See this here?¡± I said, running my finger under the calorie count per serving. ¡°That¡¯s the amount of calories each cup of rice has. On average, rice has far more calories than any other grain of the same weight. Nearly three times for most.¡±


    Darrin cocked his head, smirking slightly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve lost me here, Toren. You can read this font? And what are calories?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can,¡± I said, sounding more venomous than I would¡¯ve liked. ¡°Calories are basically the energy you get from food. Just trust me.¡±


    Darrin raised his hands, slightly taken aback by the snap in my tone. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll see if there¡¯s anything here they¡¯d need.¡±


    He sauntered off to inspect what this place had to offer, leaving me to silently stew. This would normally be the time I¡¯d ask Dawn for her advice, or she would tell me what steps I could take next. These brief moments of silence after a conversation ended were when my bond and I spoke.


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    Yet the silence between us yawned ever deeper, swallowing any chance of conversation. I looked up at the fluorescent lights above me as I stashed the bag of rice into my dimension ring.


    I¡¯d left the majority of my supplies back with the Unblooded Party, which allowed me to fill up on goods here. I grabbed gallons of water, rice, some flour, and other necessities. As I moved, I realized that I was probably showing too much familiarity with these systems.


    The Alacryan alphabet wasn¡¯t too far off from that of Earth, but there were still distinct differences. It wasn¡¯t just different fonts: it was they were once one script but diverged a millennium ago. I had the advantage of growing up reading and writing both Alacryan and Earthen alphabets, so I wasn¡¯t hampered by having to read these labels.


    I had to remind myself that Darrin was. He wouldn¡¯t be able to know what an elevator was, or even what calories were. Yet I acted familiar with all of these concepts.


    Part of me wanted to act the fool, pretending to have simply guessed these things or use clever inferences to explain them away. Maybe I encountered something similar in another zone. Perhaps there is a prototype of a lift being used in Fiachra.


    But another part of me was tired of pretending. I was more Earthen than Alacryan in my viewpoints and experience, and constantly having to suppress a fundamental part of myself left me drained. How long could one be in their hometown and pretend they were clueless to its workings when each and every street was memorized in the back of their minds?


    My dimension ring was full relatively shortly. I¡¯d probably grabbed a month¡¯s worth of food, even accounting for the entire Unblooded Party. It wouldn¡¯t be good food, but I wagered the mages would rather eat plain rice than nothing at all.


    I found Darrin staring contemplatively at the self-checkout aisle. The screens displayed options for him to pay in big, bold letters. He seemed amused by that.


    ¡°Got everything you need?¡± I asked, trudging to his side.


    He looked at me from the side of his eye. ¡°Yup. I grabbed mostly canned food since the rest of the product here seems spoiled.¡±


    ¡°Good call,¡± I said. ¡°Are you ready to¨C¡±


    My words were cut off by the sound of a fireball detonating outside, the heat blowing through the windows. The glass rattled as mana flared, sending a shockwave through the ground.


    Darrin and I were moving before I even registered what had happened. My first guess was that we had somehow been spotted, but the lack of undead around us quickly dispelled that hypothesis. ¡°Did somebody else just pop into this zone?¡± I asked, keeping my eyes forward.


    ¡°Sounds like it!¡± Darrin said, smashing through the sliding doors. He didn¡¯t even wait for them to automatically open, the glass bouncing off our protective shrouds. ¡°Come on! We¡¯ve got a chance to get them out with your help!¡±


    I obliged, following the sounds of battle. The explosions and crashes, clear sounds of a fight, echoed from a block or so away. ¡°How long do we have until the stronger undead start spawning?¡± I asked, trying to calculate the merits of rushing ahead of Darrin. I was faster than he was, after all.


    ¡°A minute or so,¡± he said. He must¡¯ve seen the indecision in my eyes. ¡°Go on ahead! I¡¯ll catch up. You¡¯re faster than me.¡±


    I nodded, then slammed a push into the ground with a well-timed piston stamp. I silently lurched forward, speeding up as I moved toward the fight.


    I could see the undead before I even noticed their target. They milled about weakly, chucking spells toward a central position in an almost lazy manner. But their numbers made up for their sloth: those spells quickly multiplied.


    I saw something flash in the air, a quick glare of white before it retracted. Whatever it was, it was killing zombies quickly. The weapon scythed through their skulls like wheat until it was stopped by a conjured shield.


    The weapon darted back toward its owner too fast for me to inspect it. I still couldn¡¯t get a good look at who was fighting from the swarm blocking my sight, but I thought I had a good idea of where they were.


    I focused on casting a sound spell. ¡°You need to move to the south,¡± I said, casting my voice over the crowd. ¡°You¡¯ll be overwhelmed if you stay too long. More of these undead are going to spawn. I can help get you out, but I¡¯m too far away right now.¡±


    I didn¡¯t get a reply, but I didn¡¯t expect one. I held my breath, hoping my message had been received.


    And then the direction of attacks changed. They abruptly shifted toward my direction, the person inside attempting to carve their way through.


    Perfect, I thought, drawing Oath. I focused fire mana into the edge, concentrating it to a fine point. Then I looked up, gauging my foes. The undead hadn¡¯t noticed me yet, as was to be expected: I hadn¡¯t made a sound near them.


    But that was about to change. I planted my foot back, holding my saber near my hip. Then I unfurled like a tornado, twisting my hip and lashing my arm out. My sword let out a horizontal cutting edge of fire, severing a dozen heads in a row before the zombies even realized what was happening.


    The corpses dropped as I exhaled.


    And then they turned to me. I was forced to use a telekinetic push to redirect a fireball, then use a slew of fireshot to knock a lurching zombie to the side. I parried the haphazard strike of a rusted sword, sliding my red-patterned saber along the edge and piercing the undead wielder straight through the eye.


    Promise rocketed from its sheath, deflecting another blow that would¡¯ve caved in my back. The little dagger twisted around, impaling itself into another skull.


    Violet eyes went dark as my blades reaped bloody vengeance, but I knew my playtime was over when I turned aside an unexpectedly strong mace blow. The wielder wasn¡¯t nearly as decomposed as the nearby grunts, and their eyes shone with explicit malice.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± I said through gritted teeth. I threw a testing telekinetic punch, simultaneously using Promise to ward off any normal undead that got too close. My telekinetic shroud resisted a dozen weaker spells as they splashed against it, the cost of dodging too wasteful.


    The elite put its mace in the way of my blow but was unprepared to resist the force. Its arm twisted in a very unhealthy direction with a sickening crack. The momentum sent it stumbling slightly, but before I could finish it off, I was forced to deflect a whirling ball of orange fire, immediately followed by the rabid lunge of another elite undead.


    The first creature wasn¡¯t even phased by the destruction of its weapon arm, trying to claw at me with metal-coated fingers. I swung my hand to the side, the mana flowing through my veins and my telekinetic shroud enhancing the blow. The elite¡¯s metal claws shattered from my knuckles, sending it to the ground. It snarled hideously, its rotting gums peeled back.


    I caught the second elite¡¯s skull with my palm, its arms too short to reach my body. I snarled, pumping fire mana through my hand.


    A gout of flame burst from my palm, searing straight through the elite¡¯s head and burning several lurching undead on the other side. I let go of the body, letting the headless corpse tumble. I stabbed Oath down into the body of my first opponent, relishing the blade piercing its heart.


    Those burning purple eyes glared at me for a long instant, before the light vanished from it.


    I distantly noticed punches of wind impacting the skulls around me, mowing them down fast. Darrin had arrived.


    I spared a glance toward the north. That white flash was carving through the zombies like wheat, stalled for a few moments by elites that appeared to take their attention. But they were close now; only a bit more of a push and we would meet up.


    I exhaled, then pushed outward with an unfocused nimbus of fire. The spell pushed away from me like the epicenter of an explosion, washing over the nearby undead.


    This wasn¡¯t one of my template spells. Its effects were noticeably weaker than my fireballs and fireshot, but these zombies barely had any defenses to speak of, besides the randomly conjured shield.


    Corpses in a radius of several meters around me went up like dry tinder, snarling and screeching as they burnt away. Promise zipped about of its own accord, running itself through the chests and skulls of any undead that remained standing, ending them for good. The corpses littered the streets, a small circle devoid of enemies around me.


    For a moment, I dared to think Darrin might be wrong. I could kill these things in droves, felling them like a woodcutter does a tree. I barely expended any mana doing so. Maybe I could stand my ground here, wiping them all out instead of having to run?


    That thought was wiped from my mind very, very quickly. A dozen more hands punched through the already decimated concrete. Where before all the hands had been rotting, these were just a sickly gray.


    All elites, I thought, calling Promise back to my hands. It took a good few strikes to take down the elites, and they tended to try and work together. They didn¡¯t fall like chaff.


    It was at that moment that a white flash severed the heads of a few standing undead. I turned, ready to greet the mage I would try and save.


    And halted, my jaw growing slack. The white flash had been a long, white dagger, a ring on the pommel tied to some strange wire. But that wasn¡¯t what made me feel a measure of shock.


    The mage held his bone dagger in one hand, a length of that strange wire trailing from the hilt to a loop he held taught in his other fist. His teal green cloak seemed to float on his shoulders, and his windswept white hair was pulled away from his face.


    Sevren Denoir¡¯s sea-green eyes looked back at me, not mirroring my surprise in the slightest.

 Chapter 78: Chance Meetings

    Toren Daen


    I wasn¡¯t given time to process my surprise. Darrin slid next to me on cushions of wind, gliding to a stop as if he were skating.


    ¡°We gotta get out, now!¡± he called, punching the skull of an elite before it could fully escape its concrete tomb.


    I shook my mind free of questions for the moment, stabbing a zombie through the skull with Oath¡¯s point. It came back free of blood, but there was a coating of some sort of rot over the red-layered metal I had to burn away with a flourish of fire mana.


    ¡°Follow us,¡± I said to Sevren. ¡°We need to get far enough away that they won¡¯t follow, and do so without making a sound. Keep close to me. My sound barrier only extends so far!¡±


    Sevren nodded, but the elites had already burst from the ground. I was forced to lash out at one with a dozen quick, telekinetic punches. It crumpled, but not before another four tried to pile on me from every side. I lashed out with Oath, turning one of their weapons aside. A cutting arc of wind impacted my telekinetic shroud but broke without cutting deeply.


    A conjured fireball intercepted the next scythe of wind, exploding midair. Meanwhile, I thrust my saber through a thin gap in the snarling undead¡¯s chain armor, skewering its heart. I withdrew my blade with a flourish. When I swung the saber next, a wave of fire billowed out, consuming one of my attackers whole.


    As Promise drew its ragged edge across the eyes of my assailants, I spared a glance at my companions. Darrin was using measured steps, throwing his fists out in a blur. Every time he did so, fists of wind appeared at odd angles, hitting the undead from unexpected areas. Almost every single swing of his fists downed one of the zombies, their inability to keep up with the strange directions of his attacks working to his advantage.


    Sevren, however, was a blur. Every now and then, he appeared to take a step forward, before a strange buzzing sound burst outward, and he¡¯d appear several yards away, skidding to a stop. He didn¡¯t use his dagger how I would¡¯ve expected. Instead of holding it in his hands and using it to parry any incoming attacks, he threw the weapon with pinpoint precision. Then he pulled on the thin wire tied to the loop at the back, causing the weapon to jerk in specific movements as it turned midair.


    He ducked and whirled, swinging the wire around him and using the dagger like a wide, cutting scythe. He used it like some amped-up rope dart. Sometimes the elites tried to latch onto his wire, stopping him from using it. Whenever they did so, his hand blurred¨Csimilar to how his entire body had before¨Cand the wire sheared right through whatever was trying to hold it with the sound of a whip cracking.


    A handful of fireshot punched holes in an approaching zombie¡¯s chain armor, searing holes in its heart. It dropped, allowing me an easy line of sight to another elite. That one tried to deflect Promise, but the blade darted out of its way and then buried itself in its hateful violet eye.


    Our run to the nearby buildings slowed as we were assaulted by legions of spawning undead, each kill letting two more spawn. I was beginning to feel worried when we finally reached the edge of a taller brick building.


    ¡°Darrin!¡± I yelled. ¡°I¡¯m going to grab you with my spellform! Let it through!¡±


    I couldn¡¯t check to see if the striker had heard me. As Promise returned to its sheathe¨Cthe effort of controlling it along with Darrin too much¨CI pushed out with my emblem. The mana shuddered for a moment as my mind clashed with the Unblooded leader¡¯s innate defenses, but he thankfully let them slip for a brief moment.


    I thrust my hand up, willing the striker to follow. He lurched into the air with a whoop, arcing up toward the rooftops.


    I turned to Sevren, whose wire had just finished wrapping around a corpse¡¯s throat. He flicked his arm, making it blur. The wire went taught with a buzz, severing the head and making the dagger return to his hand with a thunk.


    ¡°I need you to drop your mana defenses for a moment!¡± I yelled, directing the message over to the Denoir heir with a pulse of sound mana. A large boulder of earth nearly squashed me, but a dozen quick, roaring strikes with telekinesis as it neared shattered it with the sound of cracking thunder. I caught one of the basketball-sized chunks of stone as it crashed down, weaving around the falling debris. My hands sunk into the rock with a crunch as I clenched my hand.


    Then I threw the stone with a burst of telekinesis. It exploded into an uncountable number of deadly shards, peppering the undead in front of me like a dozen shotgun shells layered on top of one another.


    I blinked, taken aback by the effectiveness of that attack. That gives me a really good idea, I thought.


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t do that,¡± Sevren said in response. I was about to protest, but the Denoir heir simply threw his dagger toward the building Darrin was perched on.


    It flew true, lodging into the wall. The thin, metallic-looking wire went taught as Sevren pulled. I saw his body turn a strange, lightish hue, then he yanked his arm downward.


    Instead of dislodging the dagger as I would¡¯ve expected, Sevren shot up toward the sky, trailing his line. He moved abnormally fast, reaching fifty feet in record time.


    The light tinge around his body faded, and the Denoir ascender¡¯s momentum bled off with unnatural speed. The hue was replaced with a darker one. The striker halted almost immediately in his ascent, dropping to the rooftops like a stone.


    Okay, then, I thought, a little peeved. We can play it your way.


    I used a powerful burst of telekinesis and fire below my feet, the explosion launching me straight up. I sent out a gout of fire as I rose, burning away a few projectiles that made it too close.


    I lashed out at the rooftop with a telekinetic pull, making me lurch to the side. I landed with a skid, breathing roughly. I immediately restarted my sound barrier, letting it cover us all.


    ¡°We need to run!¡± I said, pointing toward the skyscraper the Unblooded were camping in. ¡°If we get there, we¡¯ll be in the clear!¡±


    ¡°Think you can watch our backs?¡± Darrin said to Sevren, keeping his eyes forward.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be ambushed from behind,¡± Sevren affirmed. His dagger was clutched in a white-knuckled grip, his wire held tautly between his hands.


    He¡¯d better damn well hope so.


    ¡ª


    I crashed through a tenth-floor window, glass shattering into tiny slivers around me. I rolled, then came to my feet in one smooth, instinctual motion. I was followed shortly by the lurching form of Darrin, outlined in white with his hair matted to his forehead. He had a few cuts along his arms, the result of our pitched battle. Once I set him down on the ground, he slumped against a nearby wall.


    Sevren was the last to arrive. He shot straight in like an arrow, a faint whitish tinge to his body. Then the hue shifted and he cracked against the floor, his momentum evaporating. He looked unharmed.


    I wiped a layer of sweat from my brow. ¡°That was horrid,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ve been doing this¡­ how often?¡± I asked Darrin. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°They usually never get that strong,¡± Darrin said, heaving for breath. ¡°Most ascenders died or were overwhelmed before I could get to them.¡± He looked at Sevren. ¡°Nice to meet you, by the way,¡± Darrin said with a laugh.


    ¡°You¡¯ve met him before,¡± I said dismissively, already trudging to the elevator. I pressed the up button, watching the little display at the top of the door slowly change. ¡°He was at the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard after my prelim.¡±


    Darrin squinted at Sevren. ¡°Now that you mention it¡­¡±


    Sevren huffed, brushing off his clothes and sheathing his dagger. ¡°That bar is one of the only places in the entire second layer that they¡¯ll charge you a fair price for a drink.¡±


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    Darrin leaned against the metal frame of the elevator. ¡°You can say that again,¡± he said, his breathing steadying out a bit. ¡°My team goes there after most of our ascents. They don¡¯t charge us for our¡­ alignment.¡±


    I frowned, peering back at Sevren. It was strange that I¡¯d see another familiar face here, but it wasn¡¯t like a mage could be tracked through the Relictombs. This was just another person I¡¯d condemned to this hellish zone. ¡°Why do you care about the price of beer?¡± I asked, raising a brow. ¡°You could afford the most expensive wines in the Relictombs several times over.¡±


    Sevren crossed his arms. ¡°I have enough of people trying to rip me off. It''s rare to ever find a place that is fair.¡±


    I snorted with a bit of disdain, thinking of Mardeth and his horrid crusade against the people of East Fiachra. I had considered trying to call in the aid of the Denoirs to pressure the vicar to release his hold on the people.


    The stipulation Sevren had given for the backing of his family, however, was allowing him to go on an ascent with me. I¡¯d considered that before I¡¯d seen the drastic effects of my presence, only thinking there would be a few cans of coffee popping up here and there or a random poster of an Earthen band. Now, however, I couldn¡¯t go along with that in good conscience.


    Besides, I thought sourly, Offering to go on an ascent is kind of a moot point when he¡¯s already here.


    Darrin raised his hand. ¡°I think I¡¯m missing some context here,¡± he said, then pointed at Sevren. ¡°Who are you, exactly? Toren seems to know.¡±


    ¡°Sevren of Highblood Denoir,¡± the white-haired mage said smoothly, seeming to give the admittance no weight.


    I chortled as Darrin¡¯s eyes widened. He had made a good living for himself as an ascender, but meeting the heir to Highblood Denoir was like a successful businessman meeting the top brass of a multi-billion dollar company. To his credit, he fixed his features quickly.


    ¡°The name¡¯s Darrin Ordin,¡± the wind striker said, nodding to Sevren. ¡°I hope we can get along.¡±


    The elevator door opened, letting all of us into the box. I was the first to go, Darrin a reluctant second, and Sevren a hesitant third.


    ¡°So, what have you found out about this zone?¡± Sevren asked as I clicked the button for floor twenty.


    Darrin¡¯s jovial air faltered. ¡°Those undead down there hunt by sound,¡± he said solemnly, ¡°And their difficulty ramps up the longer you fight them. That¡¯s why my team is hunkered at the top of this skyscraper.¡±


    ¡°Skyscraper?¡± Sevren asked. He shifted uneasily as the elevator began to ascend, looking at the numbers changing uncertainly.


    ¡°Toren came up with the name,¡± Darrin said. ¡°We were running out of food up there¨Cwe¡¯ve been trapped in this zone for a few weeks¨Cbut our new ascender figured out that there are stores down on the ground that have food supplies. That was why we were able to reach you so fast: we had just finished stocking up.¡±


    Sevren gave me a look that seemed to cut into my mind. ¡°You figured that out?¡± he said, raising a brow. ¡°How long have you been in this zone?¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, sensing an undertone to Sevren¡¯s words that made me distinctly uncomfortable. His green eyes darted to the panel of numbers denoting the floors, then back to me. ¡°Less than a day,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Though I hope we¡¯ll be out soon. The undead hunt by sound and I can eliminate any noise we make,¡± I added, trying to shift the topic.


    Sevren tapped his foot against the floor of the elevator. His teal fur-lined cloak couldn¡¯t hide the tension in his shoulders. ¡°Here¡¯s hoping.¡±


    The elevator opened into the hallway. Darrin went first, moving toward the penthouse with a spring in his step. He opened the door, sweeping into the living room. I followed after at a more sedate pace, noting that Jared was awake now. He was polishing his shield with a rag. Nearby, Alandra was asleep on the couch.


    ¡°I¡¯ve brought gifts, everyone!¡± he said happily, flipping up his dimension ring and swiping it out of the air. ¡°Food and drink!¡±


    That caused Jared to perk up, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°About time, you ugly lug,¡± he said, rising to his feet. ¡°I¡¯ve been starving here!¡±


    He noticed me belatedly. ¡°Hello, kid! Alandra told me you popped in earlier. Shame I was resting my eyelids then, or I mighta said hello!¡±


    I smiled slightly. Of all the Unblooded Party, Jared¡¯s mood seemed the least affected by their grim circumstances. He clapped me on the back good-naturedly.


    Dima meandered over at a slow pace, looking at Darrin critically. ¡°I take it you succeeded in getting that food?¡± she asked, sparing me a glance.


    Darrin¡¯s shoulders tensed nearly imperceptibly. ¡°That we did. Just like you said, we can focus on getting a long-term escape plan in place.¡±


    There was something deeper here that I didn¡¯t understand. Feeling uncomfortable, I shuffled to the side, making a detour to the kitchen. I unloaded the excess bags of rice, letting them pile up high in a corner.


    Sevren was being introduced to the rest of the Unblooded Party as I sifted through the cupboards. I eventually found what I was looking for: a large metal pot.


    I hefted it down, looking toward the sink. I was undisturbed as I gradually filled up the pot to the correct spot and then let it sit on top of one of the burners.


    I turned on the burner, drifting into thought as my hands completed familiar motions.


    This was routine in my previous life. Every week, I did meal prep before heading off to the gym. That was why I knew details about the caloric difference between rice and wheat.


    That brought my mind back to why I was in this world in the first place. My hands clenched unconsciously as I measured out the rice. I had to forcefully relax them.


    Would I ever stop being reminded of my previous life? I wondered, feeling a unique sort of agony. It was the slow, succulent poison of nostalgia, embittered by the knowledge that I would never see anything of my previous life again.


    I exhaled a shuddering breath, waiting patiently for the water to boil.


    I was interrupted by Sevren, who opened up the fridge with interest. He raised a brow at what he found inside.


    ¡°V- va- nilla,¡± he said slowly, sounding out the words of the label, ¡°Coca-Cola?¡±


    He was holding one of the cans, giving it an inscrutable look. Considering it was written in cursive in a font and lettering entirely different from the norm, it was surprising he was able to read it at all.


    I absentmindedly latched onto the can in Sevren¡¯s hands with my telekinetic emblem, floating it over to me. I pulled at the tab, popping it open with a familiar hiss, before letting the aluminum can hover back over.


    Sevren received the can with an unsure look on his stubbled face. I didn¡¯t look at him, too immersed in waiting for the water to boil.


    ¡°That¡¯s good cola,¡± I said absently. ¡°Give it a sip. You¡¯ll probably like it.¡±


    Sevren quirked a brow, but obliged. He gave the cold drink a sip, reeling back slightly in surprise. ¡°What is this? It¡¯s so¡­ bubbly.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Carbonation will do that to you. That might be an acquired taste.¡±


    Sevren looked down at the art on the can. ¡°It¡¯s sweeter than anything I¡¯ve tasted,¡± he said with a bit of wonder.


    I hovered another can out of the fridge, letting it settle in my hands. The tab popped on its own, releasing a hiss as pressure escaped. I gave the caramel-colored drink a long, greedy pull. I savored the bubbles as they popped against my tongue, burning slightly as they went down my throat. The sugary scent tickled my nose.


    I sighed, feeling slightly blissful as I gave the can another gulp. ¡°It is sweet, isn¡¯t it?¡± I said somberly.


    Sevren gave the drink another few sips, a strange look on his face.


    ¡°I asked the others what they thought created such a unique zone,¡± he said after a minute. ¡°They¡¯ve got a lot of ideas. Darrin and Dima think there¡¯s a relic here somewhere. Jared thinks the place finally broke. Alandra¡­ was asleep,¡± he added sheepishly. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    The water finally started to boil. I carefully smoothed over my features as I poured the rice into the pot, stirring the grains in before lowering the heat to a simmer. Was this question truly just that: an innocent query? Or did the Denoir heir suspect something deeper?


    I turned to face him fully. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I lied. ¡°I¡¯d be inclined to side with Darrin and Dima on this one, though. Relics are usually found in zones with ruins around them, after all. This place isn¡¯t exactly a ruin, but it is civilization.¡±


    Sevren tapped a finger against his can, giving me a sharp look. ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Though there are other reasons the Relictombs change. Lesser known ways.¡±


    I averted my eyes, feeling a wave of guilt. I pretended to stir the rice, waiting for the water to evaporate. ¡°And what might those be?¡±


    ¡°I suspect somebody brought a relic into this zone,¡± he said lowly. ¡°Or something that affects aether.¡±


    I turned to look at the Denoir heir. ¡°If it is as you say, then our chances of escape may be even slimmer,¡± I said, thinking of Arthur¡¯s jaunt in the mirror room. So many ascenders had been trapped in those mirrors simply for carrying an item that reacted to aether. ¡°Though that doesn¡¯t explain why we would join them if we do not also carry similar aether-affecting items.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s eyes sharpened into points. ¡°It''s rare I meet somebody who knows what aether is,¡± he said slowly. ¡°And even moreso that they¡¯ve pieced together what happens when an ascender carries an aether-affecting item into the Tombs.¡±


    I felt my hackles rise at the implicit questions in Sevren¡¯s tone. I should¡¯ve shaken that vanilla cola before letting him open it. ¡°I read everything I could before entering the Relictombs,¡± I said, hoping my discomfort didn¡¯t bleed into my tone. ¡°I especially looked into how zones could be altered, presenting greater or lesser challenges to ascenders who traversed them.¡±


    I immediately sensed I had somehow misstepped in my words, though I wasn¡¯t sure how. Sevren smiled slightly, his eyes narrowing. He sipped on his cola once more, taking a more liberal amount than before. ¡°You did, did you?¡± he said. ¡°It seems we¡¯ll get along, Toren Daen. I¡¯ve been researching the Relictombs for a long time myself, hoping to find out their secrets.¡± He nodded to me. ¡°Thanks for the drink. I think I like it.¡±


    As the Denoir heir walked away, I found myself desperately wishing for Lady Dawn¡¯s advice. She would have been able to guide me through that conversation, letting me keep my cards close to my chest.

 Chapter 79: Planning to Cooperate

    Toren Daen


    The next morning, the entire Unblooded Party¨Cplus the additions of myself and Sevren¨Cwere looking down at the map Dima had drawn.


    Alandra pointed at a certain spot on the map. ¡°I¡¯ve been able to pinpoint the teams to these locations,¡± she said, blinking slightly.


    The auburn-haired sentry looked as tired as she did yesterday, but the shadows in her eyes didn¡¯t seem as dark. Her cheeks were hollow, but I had hope that would change soon. We¡¯d all eaten our fill yesterday, but the Unblooded Party wasn¡¯t back to peak shape.


    But they were getting there.


    ¡°I¡¯m not good at drawing, so Dima had to help me with this,¡± Alandra said, rambling slightly, still clearly tired.


    Jared snickered, earning himself a piercing glare. ¡°Shut up, Jared,¡± the sentry said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything!¡±


    ¡°You were thinking too loud.¡±


    Jared opened his mouth to retort, but closed it after a moment, smirking slightly. I raised a brow. Had he goaded her on purpose?


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she said, stressing the word. A bit of the fire had returned to her eyes, which flared whenever they passed over Jared. ¡°I was able to narrow down the larger mana clusters of mages to these buildings. They¡¯re not too far from each other, and both are ¡®skyscrapers,¡¯ to use Toren¡¯s wording.¡± She paused. ¡°It¡¯d be pretty easy to reach them, especially with Toren¡¯s abilities. But what to do when we get there?¡± Alandra asked, looking up with a furrowed brow.


    Darrin spoke up next. ¡°Well, we want to get everyone out of this zone alive, so that¡¯s where we start. We¡¯ve got Toren now,¡± he said, giving me a nod, ¡°So we have a good chance of moving past most of the undead guarding our way. That¡¯s a good carrot.¡±


    Sevren interjected next. ¡°I haven¡¯t been in this zone long, but I¡¯ve been an ascender long enough to know that groups hate cooperating any more than is necessary. It takes away glory for oneself; sharing the credit,¡± the white-haired ascender said, his arms crossed.


    I frowned. ¡°This is a life or death situation, though,¡± I said, looking at the Denoir heir. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long these teams have been here, but they¡¯re sure to be running out of supplies. If we point out to them that I can help them¨C¡±


    ¡°You expect too much,¡± Sevren interrupted, shaking his head. ¡°Ascenders are a stubborn lot. If it''s a pass on glory or even a relic¡­ They won¡¯t follow easily, even if it''s to save their own skins.¡±


    My train of thought shifted to The Beginning After the End once more. I remembered Arthur¡¯s first convergence zone, where he interacted with Caera properly for the first time. The way all the teams kept their distance when not in battle with carallians, separating into pods of twos and threes¡­


    They¡¯d only unified because of the absurdity that was Arthur. Would we be able to pull off anything similar?


    Darrin cleared his throat, drawing our attention back to the green-eyed striker. ¡°Unfortunately, Toren, Highlord Denoir is probably right. We¡¯ll need more than basic altruism to convince these people to work with us. We have the carrot: food and an escape route. We need a stick.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not Highlord yet, Ordin,¡± Sevren countered smoothly. ¡°It''s just Lord for now.¡±


    ¡°Lord Denoir, then,¡± Darrin said, seeming unphased by the soft rebuke. ¡°But our point still stands.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we could play them off each other?¡± Dima offered, his scrutinizing pale blue eyes looking at the map. ¡°Offer alliances to each of the other teams, using food and safe passage as guarantees? They¡¯d be reluctant to turn us down if we made a point that the offer would only be valid for one team. If they didn¡¯t take it, the others might, leaving them utterly alone in the zone.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t want to alienate them,¡± Darrin chided before I could speak. ¡°And we want to get everyone out, not just one team.¡±


    ¡°You needn¡¯t follow through on the ¡®one team¡¯ threat,¡± Dima said nonchalantly, looking Darrin in the eyes. ¡°You need only ratchet up their anxiety. Make them desperate. And when people are desperate, they¡¯re more likely to take the easiest path.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re also more likely to make rash decisions,¡± Darrin said, his jaunty smile straining. ¡°And if that ploy were to be discovered, there would be no chance of trust and cooperation. It''s too risky in my opinion.¡±


    Dima moved back from the table, seemingly content. Her critical eyes focused on Darrin, who did his best to shift his attention back to the topic at hand. ¡°We can make preliminary plans here, we need to focus on getting these people to a meeting table first. Any ideas?¡±


    The discussion continued on at a more sedate pace as plans were suggested, tweaked, shot down, and ironed out. I pitched in where I could, giving the group a better grasp of my ¡®sound distortion rune.¡¯


    I didn¡¯t really have limits on my ability to quell sounds, but if I was going to treat it as a rune, I quickly laid out ¡®rules.¡¯ As far as the Unblooded Party knew, my ¡®sound distortion rune¡¯ actually created an invisible sphere that nullified any sounds inside of it. I could expand the size of this sphere or make multiple of them, which allowed me extreme versatility.


    Darrin was a natural leader. It shone through in how he gave everybody a chance to speak, letting them say their peace and voice their thoughts. If he disagreed with their proposed idea, he¡¯d point out the benefits of their plans first before offering his criticisms. Every now and then, one of us would chime in with more to say, adding our own ideas to the pot.


    In the end, it was decided that the Unblooded would split into two small groups, each approaching one of the teams to convince them to have a larger meeting between all three, where we¡¯d make a more concerted effort to bring them all together. Sevren had made this point earlier: if we wanted to portray ourselves as altruistic, we needed to let each team have their say.


    When the meeting was adjourned, the others shuffled off to do their own things, which mostly involved sitting around or reading books from their dimension rings or playing board games.


    Apparently, Alandra had gone through a specific novel three times already during her stay. That had to be excruciating.


    Dima and Darrin exchanged a tense look as she walked off, leaving me alone with the leader of the Unblooded Party.


    I watched the blonde caster leave, feeling uncomfortable by proxy from her strained interactions with Darrin.


    ¡°What¡¯s the issue she¡¯s got with you?¡± I asked Darrin. ¡°She¡¯s been challenging you every step of the way,¡± I said, remembering the first interaction I saw her have with the striker leading up to this meeting.


    Darrin sighed, his usual smile failing him. ¡°We have¡­ special history. That isn¡¯t quite resolved. It¡¯s been quite a few years since then, but there aren¡¯t many other people I¡¯d trust on an ascent, and her criticisms do keep me sharp.¡± S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A scorned lover, then? ¡°I¡¯m not gonna lie,¡± I said, patting his shoulder consolingly, ¡°I am glad I am not in your position right now.¡±


    Darrin snorted. ¡°We were together on and off for a long time. But the last time¡­ something was wrong. She cut it off abruptly. We only reconnected a few months back. I¡¯m going to be honest, Toren. I don¡¯t know what I did wrong,¡± he said, a bit of sadness in his tone.


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    I looked at Darrin. Truly looked at him. ¡°You¡¯re a good man, Darrin,¡± I said wonderingly. It had been so long since I¡¯d met somebody so purely altruistic in either of my lives. It seemed impossible to me that he should exist, considering the hell that Alacrya threw at everyone who lived within. ¡°But if you¡¯re not sure about the reason, I¡¯m not sure I can help you.¡± I paused. ¡°But it''s not always a single person at fault. You¡¯ve probably done this already, but talking is usually the best way to resolve these things. Confront her about it.¡±


    Darrin watched where Dima had left. ¡°If only it were that easy.¡±


    ¡°If only,¡± I replied.


    ¡ª


    Later that day, I was making sure Oath and Promise¡¯s sheaths were secured tightly to my belt. I adjusted my light leather armor, making sure it fit snugly.


    ¡°Do you have everything ready, Toren?¡± Sevren asked from the side, his teal cloak settled easily on his shoulders.


    I spared the Denoir heir a glance. He was dressed in dark clothing, which contrasted with his light hair. His bone dagger was strapped to his hip, the strange spool of metallic thread he kept tied to the end disappearing into his clothes. The buttons on his coat were polished gold, which reflected the fluorescent light from above.


    Maybe Naereni has worn off on me, I thought, looking away from his expensive buttons. ¡°Just about,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°You?¡±


    ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± he said primly.


    I turned away from Sevren, surveying the city sprawling out before me. If I focused mana into my eyes, I could pinpoint moving corpses on the ground below, milling aimlessly in the streets. They never went away, even after losing their aggro. I wondered slightly. If I was strong enough, could I simply keep this zone spawning undead until their bodies reached the highest of skyscrapers?


    ¡°Think you can keep up?¡± I asked with a smirk, preparing my telekinesis. I was fast when I wanted to be.


    ¡°I think you should be the one to worry about falling behind me,¡± Sevren said with a hint of a challenge.


    I smirked, then rocketed off the outcropping in a burst of telekinetic fire. The wind whipped at my hair, my eyes watering as the pressure built. I was fast.


    So I was surprised when a figure blurred past me. I felt a slight shockwave of wind as the Denoir heir blitzed in a straight line, aimed for the same rooftop. Sevren suddenly came into focus as he slowed at an absurd speed, the light blur suddenly darkening. Right before his feet hit the ground, his body turned back to a lighter hue.


    He made barely a sound as his body settled. I grit my teeth, pulling myself down faster with a few telekinetic pulls.


    The stone roof cracked as I hit, my telekinetic shroud shuddering. My knees bent to absorb the impact, my bones creaking.


    Sevren had a mild smirk on his face. ¡°What was that about keeping up?¡± he said.


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re on.¡±


    We both zipped from the rooftop, trying to reach our destination first.


    As we moved, I speculated what kind of spellform Sevren had. It seemed to be some kind of weight manipulation. He would make himself incredibly light, then jump. Before he could splat against a wall, he added weight back, slowing himself down, before making himself light again right before impact. It was an incredible balancing act: one misstep and he¡¯d resemble a bug on a windshield.


    Yet he kept up with me more than well enough. My telekinesis allowed me to be more maneuverable, allowing me to adjust my direction and pitch mid-leap. Sevren could only make straight-line jumps.


    The sky was perpetually cast with clouds, blocking any sort of sun or star. Yet this slight bit of competition stoked a hint of fire in my chest.


    Sevren and I were the group designated to go to one of the teams. Darrin would be working with Jared to meet with the others, trying to convince them to meet up in a central location. Darrin Ordin had his own reputation as the leader of the Unblooded Party. He wasn¡¯t liked in many highblood circles, but he was a name they could put to the plan. Sevren accompanied me as the guarantee of Highblood Denoir, which unfortunately likely carried a lot more weight than Darrin¡¯s word.


    Using the status of your Blood was frowned upon in the Relictombs, but not forbidden.


    As I landed a jump, I spared a glance at the small map drawing in my hands. Sevren feathered to the concrete beside me, looking around us warily.


    My mood for competition had waned as we got closer to the detected hideout. The buildings had gotten progressively taller, meaning I had a distinct advantage over Sevren. I could stick to walls like a certain blonde ninja fond of saying ¡®Believe it,¡¯ and Sevren had to constantly use his roped dagger like a grappling hook to keep up. He¡¯d throw it at absurd speeds, the white bone lodging into brick. Then he would lighten his body, pull on the razor-thin wire, and drag himself toward the buildings.


    That might have spurred me forward normally; a spice to the normal parkour. There weren¡¯t many who could match my athleticism, even among the Rats. But as the buildings changed, so too did the streets.


    Far below us, undead milled in droves. Their empty, purple-flame sockets were splashes of color amidst seas of gray. I wouldn¡¯t be able to even set my feet down on the ground without drawing the attention of an elite. Several of the rooftops had zombies, which I dispatched quickly.


    I found myself wondering once again where these corpses came from. Were they conjured from the depths of my mind, like some twisted representation of my fear? Or were these Alacryan look-alike corpses truly raised from the dead, the end result for any doomed mage in this zone?


    Yet the numbers for such a thing didn¡¯t make sense. If all of these corpses were ascenders who had stepped into the city zone, Alacrya would be in a full-blown crisis. There were easily thousands roaming about aimlessly. But the fact that they mimicked zombies felt intentional.


    I¡¯d subtly asked Darrin if anyone in the Unblooded Party had been wounded by the zombies and if so, if there was anything strange about the wound. He¡¯d been cut a couple of weeks ago by the stray slash of an elite, yet that had healed over with barely a scar. So they presumably didn¡¯t infect people like the pop-culture icons of my previous life.


    ¡°This place isn¡¯t nearly as safe as I¡¯d expected,¡± I said under my breath. I¡¯d taken to keeping myself and Sevren covered in a sound-muffling barrier. ¡°I¡¯m wondering how anything could live for long around here.¡±


    Sevren looked nonplussed at the swarm of undead on the streets below, his dagger clutched in a loose reverse grip. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised there is a team somewhere amidst this. We ascenders are resourceful,¡± he said absently. ¡°It takes a lot to put us down. Despite this¡­ strange zone. And strange circumstances.¡±


    I spared him a glance, lowering the map. ¡°How long have you been a solo ascender?¡± I asked, feeling a strange sort of kinship with the man.


    ¡°Over half a decade,¡± Sevren replied nonchalantly. ¡°I¡¯ve learned to take many things in stride.¡±


    I blinked owlishly. That was a long time to survive as a solo ascender. Most only went for a year or two before switching to a team. Or never being heard from again. ¡°And how many ascents?¡± I said slowly.


    Sevren looked at me, a slight downturn at the edges of his lips. ¡°Not enough.¡±


    I looked back at the map, thinking of the fate this world had in store for him. The only things that would be left of his body were his cloak and dagger, waiting for who-knows-how-long for Arthur to pick them up. This world would claim him eventually; a sidenote in the history of greater things. Sevren was a dead man walking. He just didn¡¯t rot like the corpses below.


    ¡°Why do you go on solo ascents?¡± he asked suddenly, drawing my eyes back to him. ¡°It is a difficult path. The rewards are not always equal to the effort.¡±


    I rolled Sevren¡¯s question around in my mind. Of course, I went in solo to practice my unique abilities away from prying eyes. Furthermore, I had a very visible effect on the Tombs.


    I was unnerved by how knowing Sevren¡¯s eyes seemed to be. Did he suspect my effects on this zone? All my interactions with him seemed innocent enough, but taken together, could they mean he was onto the impact of my presence?


    Caera stated¨Cwould state?--that Sevren had thought the Relictombs were more than what the Sovereigns told Alacrya. And that was more than true. But how much did he actually know?


    But there was another reason I ascended alone. I traced the movements of a single elite undead over a hundred feet below. From where we were, it couldn¡¯t hear or see us. While the other zombies stumbled and fell clumsily, the skin on their spines shriveling the red ink where spellforms might¡¯ve been beyond recognition, the elites took steadier strides. Not perfect, but clearly deliberate.


    ¡°My brother and I planned to be a team in the Tombs,¡± I said, restraining my emotions. ¡°We were the last of our Blood, you see. But we were a Named Blood. We gained our power in the past through the Relictombs. We¡¯d get that prestige back, through glory and accolades. A simple, naive dream for simple, naive mages.¡±


    The wind seemed to go still around us. ¡°But that wasn¡¯t what happened. My brother¡­ he was taken from me.¡± Just as I was taken from my previous world, I thought absently. ¡°His flame was snuffed out. The Brothers Daen will never be a rising ascender¡¯s team. So I ascend alone.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s face was pinched with something complicated. Was that concern? Sympathy? But I didn¡¯t wait for his reply. My patience for the conversation had worn thin. ¡°We¡¯re almost near the building Alandra marked. I¡¯m going.¡±


    Before the Denoir heir could protest, I jumped toward the nearest building, aiming for the place Alandra had marked.

 Chapter 80: The Survivors

    Toren Daen


    I reached the top of the skyscraper with ease. I walked over the edge, setting foot on flat ground once again.


    A moment later, Sevren Denoir shot straight up behind me. He slowed midair, modulating his weight. He threw his dagger forward in one smooth motion, the glinting thin wire spiraling behind it. The blade sunk into the concrete near me, and Sevren pulled.


    He lurched forward, skidding to a halt next to me. With a quick yank, his dagger dislodged from the stone and returned to his hand.


    ¡°There are mana signatures inside,¡± Sevren said quietly, even though he didn¡¯t need to. My sound barrier prevented any noise from leaving. ¡°I think we¡¯ve found our target.¡±


    I nodded in agreement. The zombies down below had mana signatures, but they were strange. There was an aura that pervaded everything around them which made it difficult to sense their mana. The mana they exuded seemed to blend with the energy of every other undead.


    I¡¯d only made the connection as the packs of undead became consistent hordes, roving the streets far below. With such a constant cluster, the strange effect they had on the ambient mana was far more apparent.


    Lady Dawn would have noticed this strangeness far sooner, a treacherous part of myself noted.


    ¡°Want to let them know we¡¯re here?¡± I asked, stretching out my back.


    Sevren looked at the rooftop access door. ¡°It¡¯s only polite.¡±


    We flared our mana in near-perfect sync, the effect similar to a man blowing oxygen over a fire. For the briefest of moments, our mana signatures were beacons, casting light into the ocean of ambient energy.


    Sevren and I waited tensely, side by side. It didn¡¯t take long for us to get a response.


    A mage pushed open the rooftop door, peering out with wild eyes. I could almost taste their apprehension, and I was sure they had a weapon readied behind that steel door.


    ¡°Hello,¡± Sevren said, taking a slight step forward and raising his hand in a peaceful manner. ¡°We come in peace, with an offer if you¡¯d hear it,¡± he said leisurely.


    The eyes behind the door sharpened, and I could definitely sense them preparing their mana as they pushed open the door further.


    I tensed, but considering I didn¡¯t sense killing intent from the man, I settled for resting my palm on the hilt of Oath. The door cracked open further.


    A man hunched there, a wild look in his eyes. He held an axe tightly in one hand, while the other was frantically imitating a ¡®shush¡¯ motion over his lips.


    When I had been tasked with meeting this other team, I¡¯d expected another group in a similar situation as the Unblooded Party. A slowly starving team, gradually whittling away under the strain of entrapment. They¡¯d be gaunt, but they wouldn¡¯t be at death¡¯s door.


    The man in the doorway shattered those expectations. Greasy brown hair clung to his face like reeds. His clothes were in rags, torn and burned in a dozen different places. What must have once been a sturdy cloak barely passed his back, the shreds hanging like a drowned corpse. His eyes were sunken and haunted, and old bandages wrapped themselves around his arm. They were nearly black, the linens old and crusty.


    The part of me that had worked as a surgeon felt immediate concern. Considering the temperature of this zone and the rate it took blood to dry to such a dark color, those bandages hadn¡¯t been changed in over a day. If there was a severe wound underneath¨Cwhich the amount of staining in the bandage seemed to suggest¨Che had a highly increased chance of infection and rot in the damaged area.


    Sevren seemed entirely unsurprised by the haggard state of the mage. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said calmingly, ¡°My friend here has a sound barrier erected around us. The undead can¡¯t hear us.¡±


    I collected myself swiftly. To demonstrate Sevren¡¯s words, I brought my foot down hard on the concrete. The stone cracked, but no sound was allowed to exit. My spell held onto each vibration like a greedy miser keeps his coins.


    The man¡¯s insistent shushing halted. His hand slowly lowered, relief and another emotion I couldn¡¯t discern warring across his face. He worked his jaw, which was covered in a patchy beard. ¡°What do you want?¡± he said, the hand holding his axe clenching tighter.


    Sevren replied evenly, undeterred by the mage¡¯s increased tension. ¡°We want to get out of this zone,¡± he said. ¡°To that end, we¡¯d like to talk with you. About working together.¡±


    The mage narrowed his eyes suspiciously, shifting from side to side. ¡°Why should we listen to you?¡± he said. His voice was gravelly from disuse, an almost painful rasp clawing its way from his throat.


    ¡°My name is Sevren of Highblood Denoir,¡± the white-haired striker said, nodding his head in a brief show of respect. He shifted a hand into his jacket, then retrieved something and held it in front of him. The insignia of Highblood Denoir radiated back in solid gold. ¡°On my the honor of my Blood,¡± he stated seriously. ¡°Know that we mean you no harm.¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes widened slightly, no doubt taken aback by the name uttered. The Denoirs were powerful. Their house was essentially the Rothschilds of Alacrya. Few families could match them in any Dominion.


    But then the man shrunk backward. Sevren¡¯s words seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of taking reassurance in his status, as I¡¯d expected, he shifted like prey in front of a predator.


    I wondered briefly what he had experienced here. Ascenders who made it to convergence zones were among the greatest. This man must have once been a powerful, confident fighter. What had turned him into a shifting, paranoid shell?


    You did, that dark part of myself acknowledged. He wouldn¡¯t be here if not for you.


    ¡°We have food,¡± I blurted out. Sevren looked at me uncertainly, while the axe-wielding mage¡­ his eyes lit up with hunger. I recognized that look.


    And I¡¯d prepared for it. I withdrew a single bag of rice. It was easily twenty pounds, but with my mana-enhanced strength, I didn¡¯t even feel the weight. Without further adieu, I grabbed the bag with my telekinesis rune. The rice floated slowly toward the mage, keeping low to the ground so as not to startle him.


    I saw the conflict of hunger and anxiety in the man¡¯s stiff posture. When I let the bag drop in front of his door, he eyed it critically.


    ¡°That¡¯s all we have on us,¡± I said. I wouldn¡¯t make the same mistake I did in East Fiachra all those months ago when I¡¯d nearly been attacked by men looking for a lifetime fix of blithe. I wouldn¡¯t let myself be a viable target. ¡°If you¡¯re willing to hear us out, we can get you more easily. But only if you listen.¡±


    That seemed to be the last nail in the man¡¯s self-restraint. He lashed a hand out to the rice, snatching it up in a spindly claw. He looked from the bag to me and Sevren, then back to the bag.


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Just¡­ keep to yourself inside. You better keep your promise, Denoir.¡±


    The man turned around, sparing us one glance as he clutched the rice to his chest. Sevren and I moved to follow after a beat.


    ¡°This is worse than I expected,¡± Sevren said quietly. I made sure only I was able to hear his words, the sound drifting to me alone. ¡°This man is a shell. If his entire team is in a similar state, they¡¯ll be a hindrance rather than a help.¡±


    I felt my throat clench. I didn¡¯t want to think about that. ¡°I¡¯m going to help them regardless of their ability to help us,¡± I said, keeping my eyes forward.


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    I owed them that much.


    Sevren gave me a strange look, but I ignored it.


    When we went down a floor, we were greeted with a sight that made my spirits sink even further. This must have once been some sort of CEO¡¯s office. The taller ceiling and wide, panoramic view of the city below was the perfect display of power. Sleek wood furnishings might have given the room an air of refinement and poise.


    But instead, haphazardly conjured walls of earth covered the windows. The only light was the overhead bulb, casting grim shadows over the room. The furniture had been moved to the edges, providing room for bedrolls in the center. The walls felt like they might swallow me whole.


    I¡¯d walked into a makeshift bunker.


    There were only three other people there besides the brown-haired mage we met first. One was a bronze-skinned woman with hair kept in a boyish cut, though it was clearly growing past the intended length. She was leaning against the couch with her eyes closed. The woman was missing a hand, the stump wrapped haphazardly and splotched with dark residue.


    She perked up upon seeing us enter, her thin eyes narrowing. She snatched the shield with her other hand, gripping it tightly. But I could see the futility of the action.


    It was a shield designed to be held with two hands.


    The other two young boys were nearly identical, even in their dishevelment. Both had dark hair streaked with silver, wearing what must have once been high-quality armor. But their chainmail had been torn as if by a savage beast. Dark bandages peeked out underneath. They looked to be having a restless sleep, shifting and grunting.


    Their only apparent differences were in their weapon choices. One clutched a mace tight, even in the apparent nightmare. The other held a sword close.


    They both appeared to be asleep, but a kick to the shins from the one-handed shield startled them awake. The twins stirred immediately. Their eyes were a pale, icy blue.


    ¡°Are those things here again?¡± one of the boys asked bitingly, holding his mace tight and looking around with unease. ¡°Is that why you woke us up?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the shield said, her focus trained on Sevren and me. ¡°Something new. We have visitors.¡±


    That got their attention. The twin boys, while clearly gaunt and having missed a shower for weeks, didn¡¯t look quite as battered as the one-handed shield and shifty axeman. The one on the left narrowed his eyes at me with suspicion, while the other snarled. ¡°Why did you let strangers in?!¡± the one on the right snapped, pointing his sword at us. ¡°They¡¯ll try and take our food!¡±


    ¡°They gave us food,¡± the axe-wielding striker said wearily, hefting the rice in his hands. Once inside, much of his anxious fidgeting had sloughed away, leaving a tired man who looked twice as old as he truly was. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t make sense to take it.¡±


    Sevren raised a brow. ¡°The Frost Twins,¡± the Denoir heir said. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about your-¡±


    ¡°We should take the rest of the food they have,¡± the mace-wielding twin said, interrupting Sevren. ¡°It¡¯s only fair. We¡¯ve been starving for weeks!¡±


    The axe wielder immediately recognized the foolishness of such words. ¡°They came here to talk about an offer of alliance,¡± he snapped, waving the rice in his hands before pointing at Sevren. ¡°With the assurance of Highblood Denoir. It would be foolish to attack them.¡±


    The Frost Twins glared at Sevren in sync. ¡°But he¡¯s from the Denoirs,¡± the twin on the left said. ¡°Nobody will ever know, rules be damned. We should just take his¨C¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± the axe wielder snarled, marching over to the twins. He shoved the rice into the shield¡¯s surprised hand. ¡°I have had enough of your sniveling. All these weeks I¡¯ve put up with your shit. Telling us we failed you as a team. Mocking Jana for losing her hand, which she did to save you. But not this time. This isn¡¯t the Frost estate. This is the Relictombs. Either you take opportunities to survive, or you die.¡°


    I frowned, feeling slightly uncomfortable watching this team spat. I realized another thing, then. The Unblooded Party had a unity that was rare.


    The mace-wielding twin puffed his chest out, jumping to his feet. ¡°You don¡¯t get to talk like that to us, unblooded!¡± he said with a sneer. ¡°You were far more subservient when that woman was¨C¡±


    The boy didn¡¯t even have the time to process what happened as the shaggy axe wielder¡¯s fist struck him in the sternum. The boy-mage gasped, crumpling. His brother cried out in alarm, but a hard glare from the axe wielder silenced it to a whimper. The shield had set down the rice and was holding out her hand uncertainly, a conflicted expression on her face.


    I winced, remembering what it felt like to get struck in the mana core. My hand tightened on Oath at my side.


    ¡°Go on,¡± the shaggy axe-wielding mage said to the other twin, who was still on the floor. His face was twisted into something savage. ¡°You know what your brother was going to say with that little mental link of yours. Say it to my face.¡±


    The boy¡¯s eyes were wide, looking to the shield for support. She looked at the stump of her hand instead. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Say it!¡± the axe wielder said, huffing with rage.


    The boy curled into a ball, whimpering and refusing to stare the enraged striker in the eyes.


    The axe wielder turned, ignoring him and looking at us. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have had to see that,¡± he said. The anger was still visible in the flush of his face, his jaw working as he tried to forcibly calm himself. ¡°My name¡­ My name is Alun. Alun Phorus. I¡¯m the lead striker for the Twinfrost Party. Or at least I will be until those rats tell their father about what I did.¡±


    ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± I said slowly, trying not to think of what punishment this man would get for punching what seemed to be highblood heirs. Even if his actions were very understandable. ¡°We came here to offer our assistance in helping you out of this zone. The rest of our party is making the same offer to the other mages we detected in this zone.¡± I looked at the twins on the ground, feeling disgust at their entitlement curdle in my stomach. But I had made a promise. ¡°I can eliminate sounds in an area around me. It gives us a good chance of sneaking past the hordes and to the island where the exit portal is.¡±


    The shield perked up, finally taking her eyes away from her hand. ¡°You know where the exit portal is?¡± she said with clear hope in her voice.


    ¡°We do,¡± Sevren affirmed, giving the woman a sympathetic nod. ¡°Our sentry was able to get its general location, and it was further confirmed by our striker.¡±


    ¡°Our sentry¡­¡± the shield said after a moment. ¡°She, well¡­¡± The woman wilted, and that same anger flashed in Alun¡¯s eyes.


    I could guess the rest easily enough. ¡°We planned to gather all the teams together to discuss a viable escape plan,¡± I said, forging ahead in an attempt to change the topic from death. I pulled out the map from my pocket, unfolding it so Alun could see the points marked in red. ¡°We¡¯re planning to meet here. It¡¯s the midpoint between your locations.¡±


    ¡°You said there would be food?¡± Alun hedged, looking at Sevren. It seemed he trusted the words of Lord Denoir more than I thought.


    ¡°We¡¯ll bring you several sacks of rice before the meeting,¡± the white-haired ascender affirmed.


    ¡°And bandages,¡± I added, my gaze lingering on the long-soiled linens every mage here wore. ¡°You¡¯ll get bandages, too.¡±


    The shield woman, whom Alun had called Jana, lowered her head. She seemed almost ashamed.


    I looked at the twins. They were glaring at us silently. But the looks on their faces I recognized. I made a similar face whenever I concentrated too long when talking to Lady Dawn.


    ¡°You know what your brother was going to say with that little mental link of yours,¡± Alun had said.


    Those two were communicating telepathically.


    ¡°And I assume we won¡¯t have any problems?¡± I asked, keeping my gaze steady on the highblood brats. Their glares faltered when met my own.


    ¡°None,¡± Alun said through his teeth. ¡°My job was to help the twins learn, not let them kill themselves.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Sevren replied in my stead. ¡°This is supposed to be a team effort. Not a two-man game.¡±


    After a few more exchanges of information and assurances of places and times, Sevren and I left the claustrophobic room and Twinfrost party behind. The breeze outside was cold, reminding me of the necessity of mana.


    ¡°That went both better¨Cand worse¨Cthan I expected,¡± I said, gazing toward the Unblooded Party¡¯s resident skyscraper. I couldn¡¯t see it from here, but I knew the direction.


    ¡°We can¡¯t trust the twins,¡± Sevren said, mirroring my own thoughts. ¡°The twins are named Bered and Numar. They¡¯re popular talents from Highblood Frost. I¡¯d heard many good things about them. Now I¡¯m wondering how much of that was paid off.¡±


    I thought of the last time I had met an entitled Blood heir. It hadn¡¯t ended well for them. A shard of my broken shackles had severed an artery in his leg, and I¡¯d watched as his lifeforce extinguished. Lawris Joan had died a pointless death.


    ¡°It¡¯s ¡®we¡¯ already, is it?¡± I said, sparing Sevren a wry smirk.


    ¡°We do make a good team, though, don¡¯t we?¡± he asked, sounding genuine.


    There was truth to that. I had felt an intuitive flow between the Denoir heir and myself in that negotiation; each of us maintaining a steady push and pull. However, I did get the sense that Sevren¡¯s patience for the twins was even lesser than my own.


    Which was why I made the point about the twins¡¯ potential problems to Alun, instead of letting Sevren do it, I realized.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± I said, giving the man a smirk. ¡°Though you still can¡¯t keep up with me in the field.¡±


    Sevren smiled wryly. ¡°We didn¡¯t declare a winner for that, did we?¡±


    I leapt off the roof in the next instant, feeling the wind against my cheeks. It wouldn¡¯t take long to get back to base.

 Chapter 81: Bandaging Wounds

    Toren Daen


    Reports from Darrin and Jared regarding their meeting were similarly depressing. The group they¡¯d approached, nicknamed the Aensgar Exiles, had gone from a team of five to three after being overwhelmed by undead. They¡¯d taken refuge in an array of cubicles, walling themselves off from the outside zone. When Darrin had mentioned that others on his team were going to speak with the Twinfrosts, he¡¯d run into an unexpected complication.


    According to their leader, they¡¯d been attacked by one of the Twinfrost¡¯s members. It had taken significant promises and reassurances to even convince the Exiles to come to the bargaining table.


    But in the end, they didn¡¯t have a choice. From what Darrin had said, they seemed even worse off than the Twinfrosts. Sleep deprived, starving, and wallowing in their own filth. If they wanted a way out, they didn¡¯t have a choice but to accept our offer.


    ¡°Do you think it was one of the twins who attacked them?¡± I asked Sevren, who was walking with me toward the rooftop entrance to the Twinfrost team¡¯s hideout. As promised, we returned later in the day to deliver a few bags of rice and bandages.


    Sevren was quiet for a moment. ¡°Why do you think they were attacked at all?¡± he asked in reply. ¡°Considering the story they told, of their mad escape from the hordes of undead, they could have easily misunderstood assisting fire. And the Exiles were reluctant to talk about the attack at all. Only making the claim.¡±


    I looked at the steel rooftop access door. That was true: according to Darrin, the Exiles had been deeply rattled by the assault of the undead. When Darrin tried to push them on why they thought they¡¯d been attacked, they gave vague allusions to the hordes, and a flash in the dark¡­


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said with a sigh.


    ¡°Though,¡± Sevren said, narrowing his eyes, ¡°If they do tell the truth, it would not surprise me if the twins were responsible. Highblood upbringing tends to leave coddled, entitled brats instead of men.¡±


    I looked at the Denoir heir, surprised by the venom in his voice. When he noticed my interest, he quickly smoothed out the irritation on his features.


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t surprise me either,¡± I said quietly, turning back to the door. I thought of Lawris Joan and his entitled attitude and willingness to subject me to his father¡¯s drugs. It was easy to connect the dots of attitude from father to son. ¡°I¡¯ve had my fair share of experiences with people like them.¡±


    Sevren regarded me silently. After a moment, we both flared our mana signatures, mirroring what we had done earlier that day.


    Alun opened the door a second later. I watched him visibly shudder as the sky greeted him, the strong-willed ascender retreating beneath the surface in the face of the world. When he spotted us, though, his eyes seemed to gain a bit of their former glow.


    He gave the outside another cursory inspection. ¡°You have food?¡± he said quietly.


    Sevren nodded. ¡°We do.¡±


    ¡°Come on, then,¡± he said, leaving the door open. We followed slowly.


    The office hadn¡¯t changed much in the few hours we¡¯d been gone. The same atmosphere of doom pervaded everything. The only light was from the dim, overhead bulb.


    This time, however, the twins were pacing about on the far edge of the room. Their mirrored short cuts made them easy to see, their silver-streaked black hair standing out in the dark room. When one noticed us, the other swiftly turned. They had thinly veiled contempt written on their faces.


    I didn¡¯t know which was Bered and which was Numar. And if I was lucky, I wouldn¡¯t have to learn.


    ¡°Finally!¡± one of them said, moving forward. ¡°We¡¯ve waited for hours!¡±


    Sevren¡¯s face scrunched up for a moment. ¡°We came as promised,¡± he said, ignoring the twin. ¡°We have rice, bandages, and some spare soap and clothes so you all can get into something clean. Now, we just¨C¡±


    ¡°Only rice?¡± one of the boys said, his face morphing. ¡°Is that all you¡¯ll give us? We need more than that!¡±


    Alun turned a glare at the twins, which served to make them coil like snakes rearing their heads. ¡°We¡¯ll be out soon enough if things go well, and you can eat anything you want.¡±


    The boy¡¯s words stoked something inside of me. I thought of the people of East Fiachra, struggling to feed themselves every day. I remembered Greahd¡¯s celebrations and meetings, fostering a burgeoning sense of community in the hope-stripped people.


    And then what had happened because of the Doctrination. I had to force down my irritation.


    Instead, I used something else to distract myself. I looked at the bandaged wounds of all present, feeling myself diagnosing them subconsciously.


    ¡°I can help you change bandages and dress your wounds properly,¡± I offered, cutting through the rising tension. My eyes traced to the shield Jana¡¯s stump of a hand, a clearly hasty and poor job done treating the wound. ¡°I worked as a surgeon¡¯s assistant for several years. I¡¯ve got practice with this kind of thing.¡±


    Alun hesitated for barely a moment. ¡°Yes, please. Anything you can do.¡±


    I nodded as Sevren began to retrieve the food from his dimension ring, approaching the one-handed shield. She stood off to the side, watching the proceedings with an empty kind of expression on her sharp features.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I greeted, pulling a roll of bandages from my dimension ring. ¡°Mind if I help you in redressing that?¡± I said, gesturing to what remained of her left hand.


    Jana gave me a complicated look. ¡°I would appreciate that,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Can¡¯t wrap bandages with only one hand,¡± she added cynically. She was sitting in a stiff-backed chair, looking away.


    I felt my inviting smile fall. ¡°Got it.¡± I knelt next to the chair, holding my hand out. Haltingly, the shield obliged my silent request.


    My suspicions were confirmed as I slowly removed her bandage. The black, crusty linens had been soaked through with blood and pus. The smell of festering infection hit my nose like a wave when it was finally uncovered, revealing a gruesome wound that was struggling to heal.


    The woman had clearly lost the appendage several weeks ago. She was lucky she was a mage: her infection would be far more deadly if not for the mana that constantly circulated from her core. I looked at it with a scrutinizing gaze.


    I could see the peeking heads of the radius and ulna under the intense swelling, the bone exposed to open air. I felt a pang of pity as I pulled the bandages off, the woman wincing from the crackling noise the bandages made as they peeled away.


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    ¡°How bad is it?¡± Jana asked, looking anywhere but at the wound.


    ¡°It could be a lot worse,¡± I said honestly. Whatever had severed her hand had done it in a relatively clean manner, and I noticed trace burns from a hasty cauterization. The ulnar and radial arteries had been burned shut, preventing too much blood loss. ¡°The infection, especially. You¡¯ve got a strong constitution.¡±


    I turned to Alun, who was talking with Sevren quietly. ¡°Do you have a faucet here for warm water?¡± I asked.


    Alun paused, then pointed toward one end of the office. Sure enough, there was a spigot there. ¡°Hold on,¡± I said to Jana, speedwalking to the faucet. I withdrew a small, metal pot from my dimension rune¨Cwe weren¡¯t sure if the Twinfrosts had a means of actually cooking the rice, so I¡¯d brought this along just in case¨Cand filled it to the brim with water. I returned a second later.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to bring this water to a boil and use it to soak these bandages,¡± I said to Jana, who was characteristically stiff. Talk of her wound seemed to disquiet her, so I tried to keep it brief. ¡°But before I rebandage your hand, I¡¯m going to need to clean it out. And that is going to hurt.¡±


    The woman finally looked down at me. I remembered the long days in Trelza¡¯s employ. The man was a master healer, far better than I ever would be. But where I lacked in skill, I made up for it with compassion. Patients didn¡¯t need a robotic, stoic man looking over them as they came to terms with their wounds. They needed a companion, not a target of hate like Trelza seemed to think.


    I squeezed the woman¡¯s other hand sympathetically.


    ¡°I¡¯m an ascender,¡± she said with a raised chin. ¡°I¡¯m no stranger to pain.¡±


    I smiled softly. ¡°Okay, then.¡±


    I let the pot of water hover beside me, held aloft by an application of my telekinesis. Underneath was a steady, licking flame, also conjured by me. As I waited for the water to come to a boil, I talked with Jana about this and that, preparing my ¡®tools.¡¯ That seemed to ease her constant anxiety, something I was privately grateful for.


    After a few minutes, the water finally started to bubble. I let off my flame, allowing the water to cool slightly.


    I dipped a washcloth into the scalding water, my telekinetic shroud allowing me to ignore the heat. Afterward, I used a bare application of fire mana to pull the heat from the cloth until it was warm instead of scalding. ¡°I¡¯m going to gently clean the area,¡± I said, holding the woman¡¯s wrist and the cloth in another. ¡°If you need me to stop, let me know.¡±


    Jana nodded. At her approval, I began to gently dab at the wound, scraping away dead and dying tissue and excess grime. As I worked, I talked, trying to give the woman something to focus on other than the pain.


    In a few minutes that must have felt like hours to the poor shield, I scoured away the dirt and crusted blood around the wound. She endured it remarkably well, her eyes kept forward with a firm clench to her jaw.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said when I was finished. I let the cloth be taken away by my telekinetic emblem, floating behind me. ¡°I¡¯m going to wrap your hand now.¡±


    Another nod.


    I reached into the pot by my side, retrieving the bandages. By now, the water had cooled down far more. I squeezed the linens out, then began to slowly wrap the woman¡¯s hand.


    This was a suboptimal solution. I didn¡¯t pack my usual repertoire of wound care supplies, like vinegar and other cleansing solutions, because of my considerable healing factor. I also hadn¡¯t planned on ever ascending with someone, so I didn¡¯t account for helping another person.


    But these bandages should¡¯ve been soaked in a cleansing solution instead of just boiled water. Furthermore, I didn¡¯t have any alcohol to wash her wound.


    I could only hope that her mana would continue to fight off the infection as well as it had so far.


    I let out a breath as I finally tied off the bandage. ¡°Okay, Jana. It''s done.¡±


    She looked at her hand for a brief moment, then at me. ¡°Thank you, Lord Daen.¡±


    I smiled slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said, standing. ¡°You¡¯ll need to change those several times a day, letting the bandages soak in boiled water before wrapping them. When you remove them, it¡¯ll take some of the dead and dying flesh with it, so it¡¯s important you do it regularly. And Toren is fine. Lord Daen sounds too formal.¡±


    After a few more words, I moved to Alun next. He was frowning deeply at something Sevren had just said.


    ¡°Hey, Alun,¡± I said. ¡°Do you need me to help with your forearm?¡± I continued, referencing his wound.


    The mage shook his head. ¡°No need. I¡¯ve wrapped my own wounds for longer than I can remember.¡±


    Seeing as my assistance wasn¡¯t required, I set down some of the bandages on a nearby table. ¡°Okay. The water I¡¯m using was boiled a few minutes ago. Once I¡¯m done with the twins, I¡®ll bring it back to you.¡±


    Alun gave me a complicated look but didn¡¯t stop me from leaving.


    I then moved off toward the twins, who were standing in a corner. They watched me approach with narrowed eyes, their chins upturned. I could see the wrappings they had underneath their tattered armor.


    This was going to be far more painful for me than it would be for them.


    ¡°So, which one of you is Bered, and which is Numar?¡± I asked, trying to break the ice. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°That¡¯s Bered of Highblood Frost to you,¡± the one with a mace on his hip said. ¡°We aren¡¯t so in your debt that you can drop our titles.¡±


    More painful for me indeed. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Look, do you need my help with your bandages or are you going to keep looking down on me?¡±


    My utter disregard for his posturing seemed to throw Bered for a loop. From the pinched expression that soon crossed his face, I guessed he was talking mentally with his brother. My eyes flicked to who I now knew was Numar.


    ¡°You should have come to us first,¡± he said. ¡°When highbloods are wounded on the battlefield, they¡¯re treated foremost,¡± Numar added, trying to sound logical.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a battlefield,¡± I said calmly, restraining my irritation. And highbloods on battlefields are usually commanding officers, not arrogant brats, I thought to myself. ¡°It''s the Relictombs. You need to learn to take responsibility for yourselves.¡±


    ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns. So you¡¯re going to be just like old Alun, then?¡± Bered said. ¡°Taking their side? Instead of the Highblood?¡±


    I felt a sneer tug at the corner of my lips. I set the rest of the bandages down in front of them slowly. ¡°I treated the most wounded first,¡± I said. I might not have sworn the Hippocratic Oath, but I understood priorities. ¡°Feel free to dress your own wounds. With that mental link of yours, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be far easier for you two to work together than it will be for me.¡±


    Bered went red in the face, but managed to try and hide some of it. ¡°You can¡¯t just leave us to do this,¡± he said, a hint of irritation in his tone. ¡°We¡¯ve never been taught!¡±


    ¡°Repetition is the mother of learning,¡± I said, turning away. ¡°Life won¡¯t always hand you the answers. Figure it out yourself.¡±


    I sauntered back to Alun and Sevren, the pot of water hovering behind me. I set it on the table next to him, ignoring the boys'' palpable irritation. ¡°I told this to Jana, but make sure to have her change her bandages several times a day.¡±


    Alun nodded, tiredly. I could still feel the twins¡¯ eyes boring into my back. ¡°How did they get so far into the Relictombs being so entitled?¡± I found myself asking suddenly. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine them being effective at all with those attitudes.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Highblood heirs rarely face the reality of their station.¡±


    Alun¡¯s shoulder slumped. ¡°They aren¡¯t heirs,¡± he said, looking at his forearm.


    My brows furrowed. ¡°Then why?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re Highlord Uriel Frost¡¯s bastards,¡± Alun said with a sigh, sparing a glance at the boys behind me. He spoke it as if it were a hoarded secret. ¡°They only got his attention after they manifested unique runes that connected their cores. It was unprecedented. Suddenly, they went from the bottom of the pack to the top of the ranks. Their egos didn¡¯t take it well,¡± he acknowledged.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care if they¡¯re bastards,¡± Sevren said dismissively. ¡°Just don¡¯t let them fuck this up.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Alun promised, though I wasn¡¯t sure if he was being honest.


    I gave Jana one last encouraging smile before we left. Soon, we¡¯d gather together and make a plan to get out of this horrid reflection of my previous life.


    I could only hope nothing went wrong.

 Chapter 82: Gathering of Refugees

    Toren Daen


    I was helping the Twinfrost party navigate the city, gradually snaking our way to the meeting point.


    Our going was slow. None of the Twinfrost members were particularly mobile like Sevren and I were, leaving us to help them along. Instead of bounding from rooftop to rooftop, we ended up smashing our way through windows and walking through empty office spaces to the other side, then repeating the action.


    I used a combination of my telekinesis to help the mages along, just as I had done with Darrin. It had been an exhausting ordeal to convince the Frost twins to let me carry them from building to building.


    I jumped from one of the rooftops, pulling on a nearby ledge. Simultaneously, I latched onto Alun with my telekinesis rune. Then I pulled, drawing us both to the next building.


    I landed far more gracefully than the striker, who stumbled to his knees after me. He still looked far thinner than was healthy, but his hair wasn¡¯t nearly as reedy after a good bath. Already used to this routine, I turned around and jumped back to the previous building, repeating the process with Jana instead.


    I thought some color had returned to her cheeks since she began changing her bandages, but that might have just been wishful thinking.


    I had to repeat this two more times for the twins while Sevren watched on with amusement.


    This exercise was what truly instilled in me the difficulty every other mage would have with this zone. I could freerun through the entire concrete jungle as if it were second nature, using my telekinetic abilities and physical enhancement to keep out of sight and range of all the undead down below. In fact, the Clarwood Forest provided more parkour challenges for me in the form of jutting branches and scraping underbrush.


    But most ascenders didn¡¯t have the luxury of my versatile abilities. Furthermore, I had the distinct advantage of being a solo ascender: I didn¡¯t enter this zone worrying about the well-being of a team. I didn¡¯t need to fight to get them to safety, or handicap my own speed to assist them in their escape from the hordes.


    But things were different for regular ascension teams. Strikers and shields might be able to leap between the rooftops with superhuman strength, but it would be exceedingly difficult to always do so while carrying their sentries and casters. In any other zone, the Alacryan strike team layout was perfect for small unit tactics.


    But in a zone where the only way to survive was to run? The slower ones got eaten. Which was what I surmised had happened to the Twinfrost¡¯s sentry.


    Once the twins were reluctantly deposited in the next building, we began to slowly move toward the other side, following empty hallways and derelict passages.


    We had to be more careful here. More than once had I spotted a few undead roaming these skyscrapers, even so far up. They were rare, but even one could alert any others in earshot.


    So I kept my sound barrier up. I took the lead in exploring the buildings, as my enhanced sense of hearing allowed me to be a good lookout.


    I turned to the side as Sevren sidled up, peeking around a corner as we checked for the undead.


    ¡°I asked Alun about what he knew of the other team,¡± he said quietly. ¡°He claimed that he only saw them once when they had just entered the zone, but didn¡¯t get the chance to interact before they were forced to escape.¡±


    I followed the intent of Sevren¡¯s words easily enough. ¡°You think he¡¯s telling the truth?¡± I said, covertly glancing at the mage trailing behind me. Alun seemed to wither under the sunlight, that paranoid, almost animalistic side of him coming to life. The moment we ducked under a rooftop, however? More of himself emerged, though it was tired and haunted. ¡°He didn¡¯t strike me as a liar.¡±


    ¡°I thought he was being truthful,¡± the white-haired striker said. ¡°Though that doesn¡¯t exclude one of the Twinfrost members keeping secrets.¡±


    The implication was clear. Sevren thought the Frost twins might have attacked the Aensgar Exiles. I thought of their willingness to try and take our food at first interaction, simply because they had starved.


    Yet, as strange as it may have seemed, I did not view that as a complete and utter condemnation of their character. I¡¯d seen what hunger could do to people in East Fiachra. It turned civilized men into beasts, the lack of sustenance consuming all rational thought in the place of food.


    Could I judge a person thoroughly when I¡¯d only seen them at their lowest?


    But did that mean the twins would assault somebody they didn¡¯t know had food or not? Theoretically, they hadn¡¯t been starving when the Exiles had been supposedly attacked.


    My doubts festered. Bered and Numar, while infuriating and stuck up, struck me as posturers keeping up a thin facade of power rather than truly malevolent people. They were children playing at what the men in their lives displayed.


    ¡°We can¡¯t dismiss the possibility,¡± I said after a long pause. ¡°But we¡¯ll have to figure it out soon. We¡¯re almost there.¡±


    Sevren appraised me with a raised brow. ¡°So it¡¯s ¡®we¡¯ now?¡± he said, sarcasm lacing his voice.


    I rolled my eyes as I reached a window. It overlooked our destination perfectly.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to throw you out this window now,¡± I said nonchalantly.


    ¡°Wait, wha¨C¡±


    I used a strong telekinetic push on Sevren, the flash of white knocking him through the window and shattering glass. The utter look of betrayal on his face as he fell made me laugh out loud.


    Alun, however, cried out in shock. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns!¡± he cursed, running over to the window in a panic. He got a good view of the Denoir heir easily readjusting midfall, using his dagger and wire as a grappling line to reel himself toward the rooftop of our destination.


    I could just make out the Denoir heir sending a very rude gesture up toward me. I returned it, a smirk on my face.


    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± Alun said, looking at me with shock on his face.


    ¡°Maybe a little,¡± I acknowledged. Who could remain sane after being reincarnated into a world he thought to be fiction? Sometimes I still wondered if I was in a strange fever dream, these past few months a figment of a maddened mind.


    But then I remembered Norgan, and my resolve redoubled.


    ¡°Ready to go down there?¡± I asked, giving the man a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach my eyes.


    He gulped.


    ¡ª


    The meeting place was a lot less ostentatious than the highrise penthouses and CEO offices I¡¯d come to expect.


    The setup was on top of a highrise pavilion, granting access to the open sky. It looked like it had once been a nice picnic setting. I could imagine myself eating a sandwich and drinking coffee here, watching the foot traffic down below. It would¡¯ve been a wonderful start to the day.


    But we had to wait another half hour or so for Darrin and the rest of the Unblooded Party to show up, the Aensgar Exiles in tow. I got a good look at the ragged team: two shields and a caster. The leader of the group, a large man I knew was named Hraedel, looked at the gathered Twinfrosts with undisguised suspicion.


    The pavilion was large and open, providing plenty of space for everyone. At a glance, there were thirteen of us in total, all arrayed in an approximation of a circle.


    ¡°So you¡¯re the one who orchestrated this?¡± Alun asked Darrin, a hint of recognition on his face. ¡°Darrin Ordin of the Unblooded Party?¡±


    Darrin stepped forward. ¡°Not just me,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve had the assistance of the rest of my team, along with Toren Daen and Lord Denoir.¡±


    The eyes of the Aensgar Exiles turned to Sevren, his name holding far more weight than my own. I saw something familiar there: a desire for hope. They were people stuck at the bottom of an endless pit, finally seeing a pinprick of light at the top.


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    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of the¡­ spats you¡¯ve had with Highblood Patamoor,¡± Alun said. ¡°You made yourself infamous in noble circles.¡±


    Darrin scratched the back of his head, sighing slightly. ¡°People usually remember me for that nowadays, yes,¡± he said. ¡°But that''s beside the point. We all want out of this zone, and our chances increase exponentially if we work together to do it.¡±


    That got the attention of everyone present. ¡°The majority of undead around here,¡± Darrin said, undeterred by the attention, ¡°Operate by sound. Even the slightest noise could set a single one off. And then that would spread to the rest of them, igniting their bloodlust. This makes avoiding them nigh impossible. Or, it was nigh impossible.¡±


    I took a step forward, as Darrin and I had discussed before this meeting began. I brought my foot up, then brought my heel down on the concrete. The stone shattered, but no sound accompanied it.


    ¡°My name is Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± I said loudly, addressing the crowd. ¡°I have a rune that allows me to create invisible pockets of mana that nullify noise. Using this, I can help us make it to the descension portal.¡±


    That got a frown from Hraedel. ¡°You say you know where the exit portal is,¡± he said slowly, looking between me and Darrin. ¡°But you haven¡¯t proven it yet.¡±


    I stepped back, letting Alandra take the stage. Darrin had expected these kinds of questions and had been ready to answer one and all. Alandra held a palm up, conjuring a mini-map of fluorescent fire. A dozen-plus-one dots blazed a brighter light, while one overpowering speck hovered in the far distance.


    ¡°Each of these dots represents a significant mana signature,¡± she said. ¡°The large one at the end? That¡¯s the exit portal.¡±


    ¡°Now that you all know where the portal is, you could all feasibly just leave this meeting now,¡± Darrin said, taking the lead once more. The blonde striker shook his head. ¡°But it''s not that simple.¡± He looked meaningfully at the gathered teams. ¡°The Exiles lack a striker to make their assault plausible. In the same vein, the Twinfrost party doesn¡¯t have a caster to keep enemies at range. And barring all that, If any of us were to go to where the portal is, we¡¯d be greeted with the next obstacle.¡±


    Darrin waited after that, savoring the interest of the mages around us. It felt similar to what Karsien did, but not nearly as contrived in his showmanship. The leader of the Unblooded Party knew how to hold the attention of a crowd.


    And someone¡¯s patience predictably broke. ¡°And what would that be?¡± a voice asked. I turned, surprised to see Numar speaking up. ¡°Why should we help you?¡± he added with narrowed eyes.


    Darrin seemed unphased by the rudeness of the boy¡¯s tone. ¡°The portal is located in the tallest skyscraper I have yet seen, standing easily twice as tall as any building near here. And it''s at the center of a large lake, which likely has its own dangers lurking beneath.¡±


    That statement made everyone shift uncomfortably.


    ¡°We can work together with the Unblooded,¡± Hraedel said after a moment. ¡°But not with the Twinfrosts. They stabbed us in the back once already.¡±


    I felt my heart sink as Hraedel¡¯s words set in, the peaceful discussion we had managed shattered by his words.


    Alun, predictably, looked more confused than angry at the accusation. ¡°What in the¨C¡±


    ¡°On what right do you accuse Highblood Frost?¡± Bered spoke up, stepping forward with a sneer. ¡°Baseless accusations will not be tolerated, unblooded.¡±


    Fuck, I thought, recognizing the damage such toxicity would have on our negotiations. Hraedel bristled, the large man looming with palpable irritation. I stepped forward, but thankfully Darrin was quicker. He moved in between the two mages, raising both hands and smiling his usual smirk.


    ¡°As the young Lord Frost said,¡± the leader of the Unblooded Party said calmly, ¡°Accusations need to be substantiated. What is your claim?¡±


    Bered looked ready to bite Darrin¡¯s head off. He opened his mouth to speak, but my sound magic cut off every word he tried to utter. He looked confused for a moment, before whirling on me.


    ¡°Everyone here has a right to speak their minds without being shouted over,¡± I said, letting the glares of Numar and Bered wash over me. ¡°If you can¡¯t let each person talk in turn, then you revoke your right to speak. Once Hraedel makes his claim, feel free to refute it.¡± S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bered stalked over to me, trying to look bigger as he puffed out his chest. Numar moved to his side, backing his twin up.


    I looked down on them apathetically. I had grown tall in the past few months: a little over six feet. With mana strengthening my growth, I looked older than I truly was. But these teens looked their age and acted younger.


    It would take more than this to intimidate me. ¡°Are you going to move?¡± I asked, my eyes hard.


    All the eyes of the meeting were trained on us. Darrin looked at me uncertainly. Sevren with approval. I could sense the embarrassment wafting off of Alun behind me.


    The combined stares of everybody around finally seemed to break through whatever shell the brothers had. I saw it crack, leaking a flurry of emotions I just barely caught. Shame, anger, and desire. Desire for what, though?


    They shuffled back, unable to even make a sound.


    I looked to Hraedel, my expression stony. ¡°Continue.¡±


    He looked disconcerted by something in my eyes. ¡°Yes¡­ well, we spotted the Twinfrosts when we first entered this zone. Only got a brief glimpse before we had to escape. But that''s how I know. I recognized one of your group.¡± Hraedel paused. ¡°And it''s telling that the one who attacked us isn¡¯t with you. Are you trying to hide her?¡±


    Wait, what? Her? Not he? Did that mean that it wasn¡¯t the twins? I felt as if I¡¯d been thrown for a loop. I turned to the Twinfrosts questioningly.


    What greeted me was an expression of purest rage on Alun¡¯s face. It was the same anger that drove him to strike the twins not so long ago.


    ¡°You dare?¡± he said, stalking forward. I tried to set a hand on his shoulder, but he smacked it away. ¡°Do you have any idea how flimsy that lie is?¡±


    Hraedel scoffed. ¡°Her attack cost us our sentry and shield. I¡¯m willing to bet she¡¯s waiting around here, too, ready to finish the job when we leave!¡±


    The others began to stir as the confrontation heated up. Mages looked about warily, their hands resting on their weapons. The tension was taught like a bowstring, ready to snap and send an arrow into any unsuspecting man who didn¡¯t move in time.


    Alun threw a punch.


    It didn¡¯t connect.


    Sevren had blurred to the man¡¯s side, holding Alun back forcefully as he tried in vain to throw himself at Hraedel. ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you?¡± he yelled hoarsely. ¡°She¡¯s dead! My wife was taken by the undead weeks ago! I didn¡¯t even get to see her body! And you¡¯re telling me she attacked you! I¡¯ll kill you for that! Throw you to the corpses below!¡±


    The meeting erupted into a cacophony of noise as people began to shout, clamoring to be heard over one another.


    ¡°--Utter absurdity!¡±


    ¡°--Shouldn¡¯t have come here!¡±


    ¡°--I told them this would happen!¡±


    But my mind had drifted off at Alun¡¯s words. Hraedel didn¡¯t seem to be lying. His suspicion and anger felt too real to me. He could be just mistaken, having misidentified one of the undead attacking his team.


    The undead¡­


    I felt my heart grow cold. Alun had said his wife was taken by the undead weeks ago. And the attack was supposedly more recent.


    As the meeting fell to chaos around me, people pushing and shoving, I felt another possibility begin to form in my mind. I didn¡¯t want to look at it. Didn¡¯t want to consider it. But right now¡­


    ¡°Enough!¡± I said, enhancing my voice with sound magic. I slammed my intent into the ambient mana, letting the world itself carry the weight of my emotion. My killing intent wafted out from me like heat off a stone, causing mages nearby to choke from the sudden pressure. The stronger ones whirled on their heels, facing me with wild, uncomprehending eyes.


    Sevren and Darrin gave me scrutinizing, uncertain looks, not as affected by my intent. Still. the entire rooftop became deathly silent.


    My ability to spread my intent across the ambient mana had morphed into something unique since I had begun practicing with my violin. I had a measure of control of what emotion I wished to project across the world, but this was back to the blunt, brute force of bloodlust.


    ¡°Calm down!¡± I said with a snarl. ¡°This¡­ this might be worse than we thought. Give me a damn second.¡±


    I turned, searching the crowd for Alun. I needed to ask him a question. The thoughts in my mind burned, seeking answers like a fire needs oxygen.


    ¡°Alun!¡± I called out, turning my head from side to side. I couldn¡¯t see him. Where was he? ¡°Alun, goddamnit, where are you?¡±


    I finally spotted him. He had somehow separated himself from the group entirely, moving to the edge of the rooftops.


    ¡°Shaela?¡± my enhanced hearing picked up the man saying with a shaky voice.


    My eyes widened, fear burgeoning in my chest. Alun was facing someone¨Csomething¨Cthat hadn¡¯t been there a moment ago. A tall, scruffy woman stood across from him, her armor battered and worn. She looked incredibly human.


    Her wounds didn¡¯t bleed. I began to course mana through my limbs, my worst fears becoming a reality. ¡°Alun, get away from that thing! Alun!¡±


    The mages around me shifted out of their stupor, the urgency in my voice raising them to action.


    Alun didn¡¯t seem to hear me, raising a hand to the pale woman¡¯s cheek. ¡°I thought I saw you¨C I thought¡­¡±


    I slammed telekinesis into the ground. Where before, the blurring dash always seemed instantaneous, now I felt as if I was slow. I shot forward and blinding speed, but it might as well have been a crawl.


    The creature¡¯s eyes burned a deep violet. It looked down on the man in front of it, something resembling contempt flaring there as the man brushed his hand against its cheek.


    I watched in painfully slow motion as the creature raised its hand, seeming to caress Alun¡¯s cheek in turn. It almost seemed tender, the brush of something long gone.


    Then it snapped his neck.

 Chapter 83: The Horde Rises

    Toren Daen


    My fire-coated fist connected with the jaw of the zombie. The head lurched to the side unnaturally far, its neck audibly snapping. The body was sent flying off the rooftop, arcing down to the street below. I barely spared it a glance before I spun, catching Alun¡¯s body.


    His mouth was open in a wondering expression, his eyes peeled wide as if he still couldn¡¯t believe what had happened.


    He was dead; his neck twisted at an uneven angle.


    Bursts of shock and fear erupted behind me as everybody¡¯s mind caught up with what had just happened. Cries of terror and uncertainty erupted all at once, people clamoring behind me. Sevren blurred next to me, peering over the edge toward where the zombie had disappeared.


    Amidst the outrage and fear, a hand gripped my shoulder. I turned slightly, still reeling at my failure to protect Alun. I¡¯d seen this coming. But I¡¯d been too late.


    Jana looked down at the body with a haunted expression, her jaw trembling. ¡°Alun¡­ no, no no! Not like this!¡±


    The distraught shield took the body from my hands, trying in vain to rouse him. I stepped back numbly, my thoughts a mess. I thought of that non-mage I¡¯d failed to protect months ago in the Clarwood Forest expedition, his innards melted by an acidbeam hornet. I hadn¡¯t known him; not truly.


    But I had a name to my failure now. It wasn¡¯t a stranger, condemned and hidden behind a helmet. Alun wouldn¡¯t have died if I hadn¡¯t entered the Relictombs. It was this zone that claimed him. The one changed by my presence.


    ¡°That was the one!¡± Hraedel said behind me, his voice angry. ¡°She was the one who attacked us! Did she go rogue? She just killed her own teammate!¡±


    Not quite, I thought, the picture I¡¯d been forming settling. That was the sentry that the Twinfrosts had lost. Alun¡¯s wife.


    Or what was left of her. What remained after the undead took her corpse.


    She could have easily passed for a human if it weren¡¯t for the eyes.


    ¡°We need to move,¡± Sevren said with urgency, stepping away from the ledge. ¡°The undead are breaking into the building down below!¡±


    That was possibly the worst thing the Denoir heir could have said. Where before there was fear, now there was panic. I saw it in the expressions of the Aensgar Exiles as they clamored to the edges of the building. The Frost twins¡¯ eyes widened, some unspoken communication passing between them. Even Alandra and Dima looked shaken by what they must have seen.


    But these people were ascenders. They spent their lives always facing death, ready to trust their backs to strangers when needed. The Unblooded Party was the first to flush the panic from their systems, trying to manage a defense for the inevitable wave.


    ¡°We need to run!¡± Darrin yelled above the clamor of mages preparing for battle. ¡°Jameson! We need your conjuring abilities, now!¡±


    As Darrin hastily mounted an escape plan, my eyes were drawn to Jana. She hadn¡¯t moved a single step, even when near everyone else peered over the edge and began battle preparations. Her single hand clutched Alun¡¯s body, an empty look in her eyes.


    ¡°You need to destroy the body,¡± I said to her quietly.


    She looked at me, horrified. ¡°Wh-what?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s how they get more,¡± I whispered. ¡°They add the dead to their numbers.¡±


    I stood up, ignoring the look of betrayal that flashed across Jana¡¯s face. I walked up next to Darrin, drawing Oath and Promise as I did so.


    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± I asked, not quite looking at the blonde striker. He had just finished directing Jared and another mage I didn¡¯t recognize to the edge of the building, instructing them to do something.


    Darrin spared me a glance. ¡°Jared can conjure metal shields in links. If he alters his spell enough, he can conjure a walkway for us to cross. But that would be too slow. Jameson can make ice walls. He¡¯ll be doing the same thing. We¡¯ll get people across the gap to the next building.¡±


    I saw through his plan immediately. ¡°And after that?¡± I asked, keeping my attention focused on the rooftop access door to the pavilion. If I focused, I could hear the undead below us. Their constant footfalls pattering against the floors, more like a constant, neverending rumble than individual steps. Their groans reverberated through the air, audible only to me.


    Darrin gave me an approximation of his usual playful smirk. ¡°We¡¯ll outrun these bastards. We¡¯ll cross as many buildings as we need to.¡±


    The man was lying. He didn¡¯t have another plan to let them escape. ¡°I¡¯ve got the best mobility of all of you,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll guard your rear.¡±


    Darrin didn¡¯t have time to protest. ¡°Not alone,¡± Sevren Denoir said, stepping up beside me. ¡°We never declared a winner for our race. You can¡¯t say you¡¯ve got the best mobility yet.¡±


    ¡°Yet,¡± I said, feeling the edges of my lips turn up.


    The rest of the mages shuffled near Jared and Jameson, who were hard at work conjuring a bridge between the two buildings. In the few seconds since Darrin and I had started speaking, the structure was already twenty feet across, quickly approaching the other side.


    The door thumped once, twice, then burst apart.


    The corpses were met with spellfire. Bursts of flame, punches of wind, shards of ice, and shards of earth tore into the creatures with abandon. I lamented the dangers of using sound magic, so I relied heavily on my telekinesis and fire magic, throwing fireshot and crippling telekinetic pushes every chance I got.


    Yet the undead kept coming. Our initial attack was forestalled by a few of the creatures throwing their own spells, malicious mana seeking to carve us apart.


    One of the shields from the Aensgar Exiles stepped forward, pressing his hand into the ground. Tendrils of water burst up from cracks in the concrete, the writing tentacles catching basketball-sized chunks of earth before sending them hurtling back. The tentacles worked in tandem, pushing away anything that got too close and blocking as much spellfire as they could.


    I stepped up next, brandishing Oath and Promise. My blades flashed an oily sheen, their edges severing skulls and piercing hearts. Focusing my magic through my hands, I was able to vibrate the cutting edge of both my saber and dagger. They passed through flesh and shield alike, shearing through anything in their path without resistance. With my telekinetic shroud shrugging off most stray spells and my own mobility keeping me from being locked down, I became a demon on the small pavilion roof.


    The rooftop shook constantly, forces it was not designed to withstand crashing against the concrete. Flipping to the side to intercept a few searing arcs of fire that were headed for the bridge-makers, I felt a brief moment of hope.


    The undead only had one way to reach us, creating a perfect choke point. With the sustained efforts of the mages present, the corpses died their second death, their gray, rotting bodies littering the ground. The bridge to the next building was nearly completed, the combined efforts of Jared and Jameson yielding results.


    Only a few more seconds.


    But then I felt something shift in the air. That same strange, obscuring effect that made the zombies'' mana signatures indistinct began to slither like putty, advancing like a flow of magma toward one, undeniable source.


    I felt like I¡¯d been struck by a thunderbolt, recognizing the subtle, wafting change. It echoed back to what I¡¯d done with my violin; how I pressed my will into the world. It¡¯s intent, I thought. Or the visible aftermath of intent mixing with the ambient mana.


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    I hadn¡¯t been able to tell before because the effect was so sporadic. I recognized the black and white, while this was a formless slurry of gray. Now that some true will had been exerted over the effect, however¡­


    The source of the change stood in the back of the doorway, looking at me with burning violet eyes. The humanlike thing had its neck twisted unnaturally, flesh peeling off its skull from a savage burn that coated half its dead face.


    The undead that had slain Alun raised its arms, commanding the fields of intent to itself.


    I can¡¯t let it do whatever it''s trying to do! I thought with a burst of fear. I crunched a corpse¡¯s skull under my feet, uncaring of the bone and brain matter that coated my leather boots. I tossed Promise up, catching it by its tip. I cocked my arm back, my supernatural reflexes allowing me to account for the throw.


    I threw my dagger, accelerating its advance with telekinesis. There was a boom as the sound barrier broke, a small shockwave blowing outward and knocking several corpses over. The dagger punched through several bodies on its way, entirely undeterred by the meat that dared obstruct its path.


    But the zombies had begun to change even before I had decided to throw my dagger. The strangely intelligent zombie had clearly expected me to target it. Several mana barriers erected themselves in the face of my blade, conjured by the mindless corpse puppets nearby.


    It was enough. Promise was pushed off course by the constant obstacles, the dagger embedding itself into the brick next to the rooftop door all the way to the hilt.


    Dread pooled in my stomach as I locked eyes with the malevolent almost-human corpse. Violet pits stared out from beneath seared flesh, the exposed bone ruining the illusion of life.


    And the monster¡¯s change began in earnest. Instead of recklessly throwing themselves against our front line like wood into a woodchipper, the gnashing undead began to slow, measuring their approaches. They still stumbled over the bodies of their fallen brethren, their coordination and power minuscule. But they moved with purpose. With intelligence.


    A dozen spells at once broke through the rooftop, making me stumble as the concrete shattered. Thankfully, most of the mages were crowded near the very edge of the rooftop, putting them well out of range.


    But that wasn¡¯t my main concern. A hole fifteen feet in diameter opened like a gaping wound in the rooftop, revealing a horde of snarling undead below. The strange smog of intent which caused the strange slurry effect on the ambient mana was gone from these, too.


    We¡¯d just lost one of our greatest advantages: the narrow gap the undead were forced to approach us from.


    The zombie with the burned face¡­ it had somehow taken command of these things. They acted with focus and strategy.


    ¡°Come on!¡± Darrin cried, his voice raw with effort. ¡°Across the bridge! Everyone move, now!¡±


    Jared and Jameson had completed their makeshift bridge to the next skyscraper. They stood by the side, ushering mages across hurriedly. The zombies had just begun to move, spewing out of the gaping rooftop hole like ants out of a hill.


    I was forced back, unable to kill more than appeared. Spells came at us in large volleys, forcing me to lift up a still-snarling corpse as a shield. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A metal spear punched straight through its heart before glancing off my telekinetic shroud. I was sent stumbling back, a network of crystalline cracks spreading their fingers across my barrier.


    ¡°Toren! Get your ass over here!¡± Darrin called. He was busy guarding the bridge, sending a hurricane of punches and kicks in every direction imaginable. ¡°You need to get out of there!¡±


    I sent a regretful look toward Promise, which was still embedded into the bricks. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever get it back.


    But the relentless tide of death forced me back. I slammed my telekinesis into the ground, dashing for the bridge.


    Sevren met me there, his wire blurring alongside his arms. His dagger created small shockwaves wherever it tore apart zombies, scything through skulls like the crack of a whip. He had a supernatural ability to control the dagger, even despite the weapon being a dozen feet away. He¡¯d tug and twist the thin metallic wire, causing the dagger attached at the end to lurch in a way that seemed to defy physics, performing twists and turns around unsuspecting corpses.


    He let the wire wrap around the bodies of a few of the monsters, pulling them into a misshaped bundle of limbs and rotting flesh. Then his arm blurred, snapping the wire like one would a whip.


    The wire cinched shut in a millisecond, cutting all the bodies in half.


    I slowly backed up the icy, metallic bridge, Darrin making a fighting retreat behind us. Sevren and I worked in concert, blurs of fire and the arc of my swept-hilt saber killing anything that got too close.


    When we were halfway across the bridge, however, the next volley of spells came flying for us. While some of them were able to be intercepted with precise inputs of telekinesis, I spotted a large, flaming boulder careening toward the bridge. It was easily twice again as wide as the bridge itself.


    My breath hitched. If I let that hit, it would destroy the bridge.


    ¡°Get back!¡± I said to Sevren, tossing Oath into the air beside me. The weapon floated serenely, caught by my telekinetic spell. I squared my stance, shifting my back foot behind me.


    Sevren, feeling the buildup of mana around me, darted back. His teal cloak was a blur as he engaged his rune.


    I concentrated several spells into my leg, focusing fire, sound, and a restrained telekinetic pull around my shin. I jumped, roaring as my entire body rotated in midair. My leg snapped out, the mana wrapped around it barely contained.


    My roundhouse kick connected with the boulder at an angle, my mana rippling through the stone. The flame from my concentrated spell washed over the fire coating the rock, overwhelming it and emerging victorious. My sound-shrouded blow sent weakening tremors through the structure.


    And my spellform¡¯s pushes, combined with the force of my mana-empowered body and telekinetic shroud, obliterated the rock. It broke into a dozen pieces, spraying sideways with the gravelly sound of shattering stone.


    The telekinetic shroud around my lower leg shattered from the pushback, small lattice-like shards spraying off my shin. I dropped back to the bridge, already feeling my leg beginning to bruise.


    I spared a glance behind me. All the mages were across except for Sevren and I. Darrin watched me worriedly as the rest marched off in an orderly panic, their next destination unsure. ¡°Don¡¯t either of you kill yourselves! We¡¯ll be waiting back at the Exiles¡¯ base! I¡¯ll pay your next tabs at the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard if you make it out alive!¡± the leader of the Unblooded Party called back to me before the urgent need for his leadership drew him away from our struggle.


    I just needed to buy some time.


    The horde continued their assault. This time I let Oath act on its own, the saber¡¯s edge drawn to throats like iron is to a magnet. This freed up my hands for more ranged and wide-reaching attacks. Large fireballs and concentrated fireshot erupted from my hands with barely a pause. Together with Sevren Denoir, we reaped bloody vengeance on the undead that streamed up the hasty construct of ice and metal.


    I felt the structure groan under my feet as more and more beasts piled on. Every now and then, a zombie would get shoved the wrong way by its brethren, tumbling to the street below.


    But these monsters marched. Every now and then, an organized volley of spellfire hurtled toward the skyscraper behind us. I tried my best to intercept what I could, allowing our companions to make it deeper into the building and gain distance.


    The bridge shuddered, the combined weight of so many bodies beyond its capacity.


    I looked at Sevren at my side, noting the sheen of sweat soaking through his white hair. His breathing was slightly heavy, the constant mental strain of tracking the entire battle wearing him down.


    I was in slightly better condition. While my muscles burned from their constant use and my mind threatened to be overwhelmed with keeping track of every obstacle at once, my mana was regenerating at a breakneck pace. I didn¡¯t make everything back that I spent, but I was running at around three-quarters full capacity.


    But we couldn¡¯t keep this up much longer. I needed to change the game somehow.


    I made my decision. ¡°I¡¯m going to break the bridge!¡± I said to Sevren, who had just reeled his bone-white dagger back in, catching it with a heavy thunk. ¡°Get ready to use that mobility you¡¯re so proud of!¡±


    I got barely a glance at Sevren¡¯s face, but I knew it was enough. He gripped his weapon tightly.


    I built up mana across my palm, feeling the almost musical force ripple and distort across my hand. I had a moment to savor the sheer power I¡¯d packed into the spell, draining my reserves a noticeable amount.


    I slammed my hand into the bridge beneath me. My spell traveled through the structure in cascading waves, the vibrations making ice and metal shudder against each other.


    For a moment, I worried that my spell hadn¡¯t been enough. I¡¯d have to try again, wasting precious moments and valuable mana.


    Then I heard the crack. It was a single, faulting split that rent my ears, before the tons of weight forced upon the bridge predictably gave way.


    I watched easily a hundred zombies fall in tandem with me, but I wasn¡¯t worried. I was a contender for the most mobile mage in this zone.


    I slammed a telekinetic push against a corpse that was clawing at me wildly, letting the force push me in the opposite direction. The undead¡¯s head exploded in a shower of fetid gore, but I was already far outside its range.


    My feet connected with the wall of the skyscraper, settling in a position half a hundred feet over the ground. From my brief glance downward, I watched with sinking horror as undead streamed into the base of the tower, no doubt climbing their way upward to chase my companions.


    That check of the streets cost me dearly. I looked up, scanning the skies for Sevren Denoir. He would¡¯ve been easily able to escape this with as much ease as I.


    Except that wasn¡¯t what had happened. Far above me, a gargantuan, misshapen thing loomed over the edge of the rooftop. A coagulation of limbs, heads, and rot meshed together to form a huge, hulking body. The titan of rot knit itself from the corpses around it, building itself taller and taller as flesh was willingly sacrificed. The fingers of the monstrosity screamed deathly wails, writhing and biting at the air. Its arms cried for release. Its legs wept.


    A terrible effigy of a skull sat atop misshapen shoulders, smooth bone defying the grotesque nature of the giant. Where everywhere else bespoke decay, the skull seemed to gleam pristinely.


    And in the flesh titan¡¯s growing grasp was Sevren Denoir.

 Chapter 84: The Price of Unfettered Power

    Toren Daen


    As I stared at the Denoir heir in the flesh titan¡¯s misshapen grip, a dozen images flashed through my mind. I remembered the man who had died in the Clarwood Forest under my protection, whose name I would never know. I remembered my failure to protect Alun, his neck twisted at an odd angle. Mardeth¡¯s mocking smile as he told me the lives of the captured East Fiachrans were in my hands¡­


    And Kaelan Joan sinking her blade into my brother¡¯s chest, the slick steel moving without a hint of resistance.


    I didn¡¯t think twice. I grasped at the power slumbering in my core, drawing it to the surface as one draws water from a well. Familiar understanding rushed into the bare channels of my thoughts, my mind absorbing the knowledge like a greedy sponge.


    But I could immediately recognize a glaring difference. Where before there was a fullness in using the Acquire Phase of my Will; the surety of a hand on the shoulder or the watching eye of a parent, now there was simply the primitive instincts of the Will itself.


    I felt a tentative brush of Lady Dawn¡¯s mind across my own. There was a question there. A hope and fear for my well-being that could not be contained by our mental link.


    When I let the Phoenix Will envelop my mind, my asuran bond was unable to mask her emotions from me any longer and vice versa. We meshed together deeper than sense. And so as I felt her regret; her desire to help, and her fear for my safety¡­


    I knew those feelings to be true. They were real and deep, entrenched across our bond.


    I shut it out. No, I thought. Not this. I can¡¯t think about this.


    I broadened our connection, pushing away the mind of my bond. I felt a brief, sharp pang of hurt from her before it went dark.


    But I had no time to contemplate my situation. I had embraced my Will for one purpose and one purpose alone.


    I raised my left arm, noting the glowing chains that seemed to float above my skin. Then I exhaled, fire mana amped by sound erupted from my palm.


    A beam of red plasma seared through the air, making a burning beeline for the rising flesh titan far above.


    My spell burned straight through the arm holding Sevren Denoir, warping the air around it with heat as it soared into the sky.


    The wretched arm began to fall as it was rent from the shoulder. I bent my knees, feeling the mana coursing through them. The cracks in my telekinetic shroud smoothed over, the increased mana flow simmering through my body filling in the gaps like putty.


    I leapt. One moment I was a hundred feet below the building, looking up as the limb made of rotting corpses tumbled through the air. The next, I was right beside it.


    Sevren didn¡¯t have time to react as my telekinetic emblem lashed out at him. I wrapped my control around him in that brief instance, pressing down with my will.


    It only took a second for my empowered spell to smash through his innate defenses. The white outline seemed to fall inwards on the man¡¯s body, but I was already feeling the strain of using my Acquire Phase.


    I made a brief eye contact with the Denoir heir. I wondered what he thought, seeing me like this. I thought I saw a hint of awe. There was shock, of course. And something else that wormed through my mind.


    I flung him at the skyscraper Darrin and the other mages had gone into. Sevren¡¯s body smashed through the glass, disappearing into the halls beyond my sight.


    I had used more force than intended to do that. My body felt twitchy; jumpy as if I had been dosed with a dozen cups of coffee. My movements were less precise than I was used to; like a beginner driver that lurches on the gas pedal when driving a car for the first time.


    I hoped the Denoir heir would be alright.


    Lady Dawn had acted as a stabilizing presence for my mind whenever I used the Will, giving me a balance I didn¡¯t realize I needed until it was gone. I¡¯d only had the Will pulsing for a few seconds, and already I felt my consciousness struggling against the overwhelming tide of insight. A single mind was not meant to hold the weight of millennia of knowledge.


    I needed to do this fast.


    I pushed off the large, corpselike hand that used to hold Sevren Denoir. It smashed into the ground from the pushback of my telekinesis, and I rocketed toward the opening in the skyscraper where the rest of the mages had disappeared. I planned on making a beeline for their location.


    But as I perched on the edge of the skyscraper, several things stopped me. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When I neared the mass of undead, my enhanced senses were able to better discern the blanket of intent that strangled each of the stumbling corpses. It was like focused puppet strings, affecting the ambient mana in a way far beyond even my best. This was focused and precise, even beyond my musical ability to project emotion. I wasn¡¯t truly seeing the intent, merely the after-effects of its passing upon the ambient mana as lightning is the aftermath of electricity.


    But as I traced the disturbances in mana to the source, I felt a strange determination settle in my gut.


    The flesh titan stood twenty feet tall, watching me with a gaze that burned purple. But what made me pause was the burning lifeforce in the undead¡¯s chests all around me.


    There were singular, tiny embers. They looked like a candle flame on the verge of extinguishing. A slight breeze should snuff it out for good.


    Yet the flames weren¡¯t the deep, bloody red I was used to. They were slate gray, an empty, dead color. The embers of heartfire that stared back at me were the color of tombstones, and where I had grown accustomed to seeing lifeforce flare and pulse in time with heartbeats, these didn¡¯t even flicker.


    It was like watching a still image. It was instinctively revolting in a way I couldn¡¯t explain. This was a perversion that scraped against my soul and understanding of lifeforce.


    But the greatest source of this¡­ anti-lifeforce was the towering amalgamation of flesh that glared at me balefully. Instead of an ember, this one held a bonfire in its chest. And from that bonfire, all the intent nearby streamed.


    That thing is what''s making these undead more intelligent, I realized. It¡¯s affecting their minds somehow. Does that mean the creature that slew Alun is inside it?


    If I could kill this flesh beast, then these creatures would go back to their bumbling, predictable selves. Darrin, Sevren, Jana, and the others would have an easier time escaping a reckless charge as opposed to an organized hunt.


    In the time I¡¯d taken to run over all of these realities, the flesh titan¡¯s hand had begun to regenerate. In a macabre display, flesh puddled and oozed toward the severed hand, slowly creating a new gray appendage.


    I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. Oath floated up to my side, allowing me to wrap my fingers around the swept-hilt saber.


    Then I rocketed toward the flesh amalgam. Plasma burned along the edge of my blade, creating the perfect instrument of death.


    The monster recognized my assault. The tendrils of intent around it shifted, a silent command going out through its network of undead. They turned to me, raising their hands and focusing on spells.


    Too slow. As I blurred toward the flesh titan, balls of fire, sound, and plasma appeared around me spontaneously, smashing into anything nearby. Corpses were consumed in an inferno of spellfire, their own hastily conjured shields breaking before my attacks. When something wasn¡¯t fast enough to burn before my might, it was smashed out of the way by my telekinetic pushes.


    The flesh titan swung a meaty fist at me, but I saw it coming from a mile away. I pulled on the monster¡¯s barreling strike, sliding under the blow. Simultaneously, I brought up my plasma-edged saber against the arm. It sheared through the putrid flesh like a hot knife through butter, severing the arm completely.


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    I slid between the monstrous thing¡¯s legs, spinning as I drew the edge across its leg. The foot offered no resistance.


    The creature buckled, falling with a groan onto the pavilion roof. The rooftop, already shattered in several places and structurally damaged, shuddered from the impact.


    But I wasn¡¯t about to let my advantage go. I marched up the beast¡¯s back, ignoring the squelching, rotten feeling of putrid flesh beneath my boots. I loomed over the static gray heartfire, a flame that simultaneously burned and did not covering what must have once been a heart. I raised my saber, preparing to drive it down into the amalgam¡¯s heart.


    Then I felt it. A deep, hungry darkness inside my body. Something twisted and churned, unfurling in the presence of its anathema.


    My core burned. I stumbled to the side, gasping as the basilisk in my blood began to wake.


    A hand burst from the back of the flesh amalgam¡¯s wide back, gray skin seeping off the arm. I felt a buildup of mana from the thing, but I was too focused on the adverse reaction my blood was having with the Will suffusing my mana.


    A blade of wind cracked against my jaw, sending my head reeling back. My telekinetic shroud hadn¡¯t even been damaged by the blow, but I was disoriented enough already. The red chains on my arms flickered to black, then back to red.


    The flesh monster hit me with something hard. It impacted my gut, splintering my telekinetic shroud. All the air left my lungs as I shot off the edge of the rooftop, careening toward the ground a hundred feet below.


    It took me a moment to gather myself. The ground was approaching fast, and there was nothing I could do to quell the basilisk inside. I had to try and focus on keeping myself alive.


    I thrust my hands out, pressing against the ground with telekinesis as it approached. My halt slowed immensely, but my control was still erratic without Lady Dawn¡¯s measured hand to guide my own. The stone under my feet shuddered when I finally hit the earth.


    I looked inward, inspecting the state of my body. I could distinctly feel my blood surging, the Vritra lineage in my veins rebelling against the renewing power of the phoenix.


    A few undead nearby tried to pile onto me, attempting to keep me pinned down by their weight.


    I snarled, pushing out with a nova of fire. The scrabbling, worn hands went up in flames as they neared, unable to contend with my fury.


    A thundering crash drew my attention to the flesh amalgam. The two-story tall monstrosity had leapt from the edge of the building, cracking the concrete below with the weight of its body. It had regrown both its arms and the leg I¡¯d severed. The purple eyes in the smooth, pale skull watched me with undisguised malice.


    ¡°You¡¯re a persistent bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡± I said with a slight wheeze. I felt the bruise forming across my abs where the monster had struck me, the crystalline shards of my shroud reforming at a snail¡¯s pace.


    The fleshy creature roared at me. A dozen mouths appeared on its body, screeching in tandem. The sound of a putrid crowd washed over me, rotten teeth and decaying lips all echoing at once.


    And then a dozen hands separated themselves from the body, rising up and pointing themselves at me. I had a brief moment to widen my eyes as spells erupted from the hands in a volley. I hastily pressed outward with telekinesis, creating a barrier of pushing force.


    Most of the attacks were diverted by my hasty defense, pushed off course by the flow. A few nearly reached me, but a few flew straight and narrow enough they clipped off my telekinetic shroud. Yet the attacks did not relent, continuing in an unending stream. I felt my feet grind into the stone as I was slowly pushed back.


    I grit my teeth, then hurled Oath to the side. The saber arced outward like a boomerang, guided by my precise telekinesis. I could vaguely sense the impact as the blade sunk into flesh creature¡¯s skull, a sickening thunk vibrating along my channels. The attacks stalled for the briefest of moments, allowing me to breathe.


    I jumped, twisting midair as I arced over the stream of projectiles. I felt another pinprick reaction from the basilisk blood in my veins. I could almost imagine the beast was awake, groggily observing its surroundings.


    Lady Dawn had worked to suppress that, too. Without her, it slowly rose to consciousness.


    I needed to end this fast.


    I dodged under another wild attack from the giant titan. Instead of trying to cut its body, I wrapped my arms around the massive thing¡¯s elbow, planted my feet, engaged my spellform, and pulled.


    The momentum from the colossal beast already sent it slightly off balance. With my strength enhanced by a mostly assimilated body, the greater understanding of mana from my will, and my telekinetic shroud, I was able to do something I would¡¯ve never thought possible.


    The monstrosity lifted off the ground, then shifted as it was thrown bodily over my shoulder.


    I felt the fangs of the basilisk glistening in my blood, ready to drip their poison into it themselves like a wretched promise. I keeled over, gasping for breath as darkness stretched across the edges of my vision. My red chain tattoo darkened to an inky black.


    Then something sharp punched through my telekinetic shroud, digging into my thigh and tearing itself through. I screamed, the agony making me fall forward as thoughts of the basilisk were forgotten. Looking up, I noticed what had attacked me.


    A single arm had reached through the flesh of the amalgam. In its hand was a familiar, red patterned single-edged dagger. The creature inside had stolen my dagger from where it had been lodged in the stone. And now, Promise had left a jagged cut along my leg.


    But the monster had miscalculated. I focused on my spellform, wrenching my dagger from the monster¡¯s grasping hand. The blade flew up, poising itself in the air over the still prone form of the flesh beast. I heaved for breath, feeling a drop of sweat break against the cobbles.


    Then the blade streaked downward. The hands around the amalgam¡¯s body tried to conjure shields, but I made sure to blow them apart with bursts of flame and telekinesis before they could fully form.


    My dagger struck like a guided missile, digging into the body and sinking deep into the tombstone-gray heartsfire.


    Immediately, the creature stilled. I watched with bated breath as the gray fire slowly broke off into smaller embers, disintegrating at last. The intent that laced the air, connected to uncountable undead, frayed at the edges.


    Before I could witness the final gray ember of anti-lifeforce dissipate, my grasp on my Phoenix Will winked out, the power retreating back into my core. But as it went, I was struck with another sensation.


    My core seared as the Will departed, tracing a path of fire across my body. I groaned from the pain, staggering backward. My mana faltered, my ability to control my own power shaking from the agony. I coughed, falling to the pavement as my limbs spasmed.


    Distantly, I knew I needed to move. The undead were all around me, reeling about aimlessly at the death of their hive-mind¡¯s leader. If I didn¡¯t get myself to high ground, I¡¯d be taken. Taken like Alun¡¯s wife had been, and turned into one of these monstrosities myself.


    I blinked my eyes open, trying to fight against the burning at my nexus of power. My leg was bleeding copiously, staining my trousers a deep red. All around me, fires raged in the ravaged street from the aftereffects of this battle.


    A shadow loomed over my prone form. Above me, a haggard, burned, and broken body looked down. Its eyes flared with weak violet light, and half the face was burned to unrecognizable sludge. A handle jutted from the creature¡¯s chest like a dead prayer. The black leather of Promise seemed to offer itself to me, the blade embedded in this monster¡¯s heart.


    Alun¡¯s wife¨Cor what was left of her¨Chad slowly hobbled toward me. It seemed to be slowing down, but not fast enough to die before completing its mission.


    The thing grasped the dagger in its chest and ripped it out without a hint of pain. It slowly, creakily, raised the dagger over my pained form.


    I needed to move. This thing was on death¡¯s door. If I could only get a few feet away, it would keel over before it could finish its task. I simply needed to move!


    I screamed internally, demanding my legs obey me. But the searing pain from my core made that nigh impossible. They twitched weakly, unwilling to obey my commands.


    The red steel glinted. I thought I saw an inkling of emotion in that corpse¡¯s eyes. It never spoke, but I saw a measure of triumph there.


    Then something blurred into my field of view, drawing a line across the creature¡¯s neck. For a beat, nothing happened. Then I watched, transfixed, as the zombie¡¯s head was severed from its body.


    Sevren Denoir¡¯s dagger returned to his hand, a slight tug on that wire giving him supernatural control. He gave me a concerned look, rushing over and trying in vain to help me to my feet. But my body slumped, the overwhelming pain from my core making my nerves unresponsive.


    ¡°C-can¡¯t,¡± I said breathily, each word that of a drowning man. ¡°Need¨C need your help.¡±


    Sevren grunted. ¡°I¡¯ve got you. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Misunderstanding, he hauled me over his shoulder. I groaned as he held me fast. My blood streamed from my leg, dripping onto the ground below. The Denoir heir picked up Promise, then wrenched Oath from the skull of the amalgam.


    He turned toward the skyscraper, ready to jump with me on his back.


    ¡°No,¡± I creaked out. ¡°Core¡­ going to shatter. Mana,¡± I ground out between shaky breaths. I felt tears pool at the edges of my eyes, my ability to think dispersing before the utter agony. God, had I ever felt something so horrid? It was as if a hundred and one needles laced with capsaicin constantly thrust in and out along my nerves, lighting them in smoldering fire.


    ¡°What?¡± Sevren said, stalling in his steps. ¡°What about your core?¡±


    How could I make him understand? Using my Phoenix Will before my body was fully assimilated always pushed forward the timetable for my next assimilation session. But now, I didn¡¯t have Lady Dawn to help me.


    I brushed away the thought that I just might. Her regret and earnest desire to speak which I¡¯d felt over our bond was undeniable.


    ¡°Assimilate,¡± I ground out through clenched teeth. ¡°Mana needs to be held. The body will absorb it. Else¨C else I¡¯ll break. Scatter to the wind.¡±


    Sevren looked at me as if I were mad.


    Yet I didn¡¯t have the time to explain anymore. Even though I had let my Will recede; even though I had released it back into my core, I could still feel the basilisk in my blood.


    It was awake. And it was watching.

 Chapter 85: To Track

    Toren Daen


    Sevren set me down near the top of a nearby building. The searing pain in my core had only intensified the longer time went on, the sensation like the ramping increase of a blowtorch along my nerves. I fought off tears as I groaned, biting my tongue hard to avoid screaming. If I screamed now, I knew I¡¯d attract all the undead in the area.


    It was a constant battle to restrain myself. I was feeling slightly delirious from the pain, each movement coming in choppy spurts. Compared to what I felt from my core, the cut across my thigh was closer to a bee sting.


    But I was still vaguely aware of my surroundings, even if my consciousness was iffy. The moment Sevren sat me down, I reluctantly forced my attention inward.


    What I saw made my panic rise even higher. The runes scrawled across the outer layer of my core, which usually glowed the color of simmering coals, were so bright it hurt to even look at them. It felt like my core was being branded by these glyphs, each taking their time to scar the surface.


    I sluggishly began to pull mana from my core. I still had a little over half my reserves available, and considering my core was solid yellow, I had a significant maximum capacity. The mana complied haltingly, slowly dispersing into my body as I¡¯d done for months now.


    But it wasn¡¯t enough. That was in the nature of assimilation: you could not do it alone, no matter your skill. Just as a mage must learn to act in tandem with their Will, they must learn to accept the assistance of others.


    ¡°Do¡­ do what I¡¯m,¡± I tried to say, before groaning. Each inhale sent more ratcheting agony through my body. I tried to say ¡®doing,¡¯ but all that came out was a strangled moan.


    Sevren seemed to understand what I was trying to say regardless. I felt his hands on my back, his mana streaming from his palms.


    He recoiled almost instantly once his mana came in contact with my own.


    ¡°Merciful Vritra,¡± he cursed. ¡°That¡­ my mana felt like it burned. What-¡±


    The mage seemed to realize I was slipping. He put his hands on my back again, and then restarted the process. His own mana hovered around my own, acting as a stabilizing force. My mana wanted to disperse; vanish into the atmosphere and break down into smaller particles.


    It took all of my willpower to fight through the agony. It was as if I was trying to move a muscle that had been sent through a woodchipper. Every twitch and pull tugged on my consciousness deeper into the abyss. Every sharp rise in heat made my willpower falter, chipping away at it slowly like a chisel.


    But as the hours wore on and the familiar process continued, the pain began to decrease. In turn, I was able to increase my output of mana. I slowly, agonizingly, pulled myself away from the brink. One day, I might succumb to such pain. But it was not today.


    I recognize vaguely that my body was almost fully assimilated. Between the regular use of my Will speeding up the necessary processes and the utter mastery of Lady Dawn¡¯s mana control, what had taken Arthur a couple of years was almost done in a matter of months.


    When I finally opened my eyes, I was soaked through with sweat. My breathing was ragged, and despite the constant regeneration of mana from the feather floating in my core, I was nearing backlash so soon after suppressing the rising of the Phoenix Will.


    I could still feel my Vritra blood. Like the will, it felt like its own semi-conscious¡­ thing pulsing in my mind. Yet this one was dark. It was a shadow as much as my Will was light. It was hungry, but not for anything in particular. It just sought to break things down. Break anything down.


    I could not afford to use my Acquire Phase again any time soon. If these two opposing forces met, I did not know which would triumph.


    But I would lose.


    Sevren slumped to the floor, lying sprawled out over the cold concrete. He didn¡¯t look much better off than me. His teal eyes were blown wide, a glazed expression over them as he stared up at the ceiling.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said between gulps of air. ¡°I would¡¯ve¡­ would¡¯ve died without your help.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Sevren said lamely. ¡°Saved me from that titan thing. Evening the score.¡±


    Without the searing pain from my core, the aching cut in my leg was a lot more noticeable. I looked down at the wound, my face twisting in concern.


    It was not a clean wound. The zombie that had acted as the nexus of that titan had drawn Promise across my leg, and true to form, the deformed dagger did not leave a neat cut. It looked closer to the jagged tear of a beast¡¯s jaws, making random divots into the flesh in a chunky manner.


    I used what slivers of mana I had left in my core to prod at my dimension ring, withdrawing several items. A long, crescent needle, a spool of thread, and some of my spare bandages.


    I took a deep breath, steadying my breathing. In the past few weeks of ascending, I¡¯d built a large tolerance for pain as I relied on my healing factor.


    But this was going to suck.


    I held the curved surgical needle over my wound, clenched my teeth, and then drove it through. I grunted in pain as I drew the spool of thread through. Not willing to let myself think, I drew the needle through another part of my ragged thigh.


    This wound needed suturing. Regardless of my healing factor, leaving such a gnarled wound exposed would only open me up to infection, worsening the damage and more. I needed to close it fast.


    I worked quickly, ignoring the exhaustion in my arms. I¡¯d done this plenty of times with Trelza, but I had never expected to stitch myself closed.


    Never let your hands waver, the stern surgeon¡¯s voice echoed foggily in my head. Never.


    I drove the needle through my thigh one last time, pulling it up before beginning to tie it off. I looped the surgeon¡¯s knot slowly, before severing the excess thread.


    Sevren was still splayed out on the floor. When I wearily looked to the side, I noticed he had probably been watching the entire time.


    ¡°Do you just not feel pain?¡± he asked, his jaw slightly agape. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anyone perform surgery on themselves.¡±


    I started gently wrapping my leg in the bandage, noting how it had already begun to look a little red. ¡°Considering what I was going through just a few minutes ago, I¡¯m surprised you even asked that.¡±


    I looked down at my wound. Absently, I wondered when I¡¯d last felt this weak. This drained of energy and power.


    Not since Mardeth used me like a plaything. Thinking of the Vicar caused a surge of anger in my chest, but it was diluted by my exhaustion. I was worried that if I simply laid down, I¡¯d fall asleep and never wake up.


    Sevren¡¯s mouth closed slowly. Then he smiled, an unfiltered thing on his untrimmed beard. His teeth were possibly whiter than his hair. ¡°You really are the reason the Relictombs have been acting so strange. That power in your core¡­ it burned me to even touch. My mana still feels warm. I never thought my mana could feel warm.¡±


    I felt my shoulders slump. I was so tired. Tired of playing pretend. Tired of carrying the lives of all these people on my shoulders.


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    And of course, I couldn¡¯t keep a measly secret either, could I? I couldn¡¯t even fight off this zone.


    ¡°You really think so?¡± I said sourly, looking at the ceiling. ¡°What makes you think that?¡± I said, not really expecting an answer.


    Sevren pulled himself up, slouching forward. He put a hand inside his ruffled teal cloak, then pulled something out. It looked like a gold pocket watch, except when the ascender flicked it open, the inside looked closer to a compass. Complex runes were scrawled on every surface inside, each flickering faintly.


    But on the compass¡¯s surface was something I didn¡¯t expect. A bright, burning purple dot sputtered in and out in time with the runes.


    Sevren oriented the compass away. When it shifted, the purple dot shifted in turn. It looked like it was tracking towards¡­


    ¡°That thing tracks me,¡± I said, my blood running cold. The implications rushed through my head immediately, drowning out all other thoughts. If any of the Sovereigns got their hands on it, I¡¯d be unable to hide. I remembered Arthur¡¯s sheer panic at the discovery of Caera. I thought I understood him then, just a little. ¡°You¡¯ve been using that to follow me somehow!¡±


    ¡°Not intentionally,¡± Sevren said, noticing my panic. He brought the flickering compass to his breast. To my surprise, a smaller pinprick of purple popped up. ¡°This thing I made? It¡¯s able to detect aether. It uses a combination of powdered djinn bone, some materials that are known to interact with aether, and¡­¡± The ascender shook his head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. But everybody has a little bit of aether inside of them. I don¡¯t know if you know what aether is, but-¡±


    ¡°I know what aether is,¡± I said, cutting across the man impatiently. ¡°Just tell me!¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± he said haltingly. ¡°Well, this device is able to detect that. But I usually have to put it right up to a person¡¯s chest. Except not with you. You have an absurd amount of aether inside of you for some reason. And I wanted to know why.¡±


    I slumped forward, rubbing my head in my hands. If I was so easy to track, how long before somebody else figured this out? ¡°That¡¯s why you wanted to go on an ascent with me,¡± I whispered. ¡°To see what effects I had on the tombs.¡±


    Another thing occurred to me. It seemed impossible, but Arthur had never run into something that could so reliably detect aether, either. ¡°You did track me here, didn¡¯t you?¡± I said quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t know how. I thought it was a coincidence at first. Nobody¡¯s ever been able to do it, but-¡±


    A look at Sevren¡¯s face told me all I needed to know.


    ¡°That card I gave you,¡± he said quietly after a moment. ¡°It emits a signature that I¡¯m able to follow. Not of mana. I can trace you through the zones you¡¯ve already been through, as long as I¡¯m only one zone behind.¡±


    It happened before I was even consciously aware of it. My mind lashed out, my telekinetic emblem snatching Oath and Promise from the ground. My weapons lurched into the air, blurring around me in a poise to strike.


    I lurched to my feet, stumbling as I put weight on my legs. My body trembled with each movement, unwilling to go through more abuse.


    My weapons pointed themselves at Sevren Denoir. He didn¡¯t move, staying slumped on the floor. His eyes were trained on my weapons, but he didn¡¯t even react. After a moment, I realized I could barely sense any mana from him either.


    He was just as exhausted as I was, if not more.


    ¡°What did you see?¡± I snarled, thinking of the zone that mimicked an American town. This was exactly what I was so terrified of: somebody realizing my secrets, and then handing me over to the Sovereigns to be picked apart. ¡°Tell me!¡±


    ¡°You have a unique effect on this place,¡± Sevren said, not moving. It wasn¡¯t so much that he was arrogant, just confident. ¡°Something I¡¯ve never seen before. Something I don¡¯t understand. Don¡¯t you wish to explore it? Find a way to use it?¡±


    I laughed a raspy, broken laugh. ¡°I¡¯m the reason all these people are stuck in this zone,¡± I hissed. I thought of what the maddened djinn said. ¡®They were making a trial for me,¡¯ they said. And the strange lifeforce I saw, the constant usage of intent across the undead. I was more certain than ever this was because of me. ¡°Alun is dead because of me. His wife died because of me. And who knows how many more! All this has done is prove why I refused to let you join me on an ascent in the first place!¡±


    I didn¡¯t even know if the Unblooded Party and the rest were still alive. I¡¯d gotten the sense that the death of the flesh titan, and by extension what used to be Alun¡¯s wife had negated that intelligence boost the undead had used to such a deadly degree. But I hadn¡¯t seen the aftermath. For all I knew, all of them had been changed like Alun¡¯s wife.


    Sevren¡¯s face took on a strange twist. ¡°There has to be more to these tombs,¡± he said quietly. ¡°There¡¯s something our Sovereign isn¡¯t telling us. And if we can figure that out, then.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°You care about these people, don¡¯t you? If you could find a way to make the lives of others better, wouldn¡¯t you? If the Vritra didn¡¯t need to be such cruel masters?¡±


    The way he said Vritra, with such open malice, took me aback. I¡¯d never heard it said with such bitterness outside of Lady Dawn. And doing such a thing was dangerous. Even for a highblood.


    Sevren looked at the floor. ¡°And my sister wouldn¡¯t need to be a pawn in the Vritra¡¯s games,¡± he mumbled quietly.


    I felt my control of my weapons slipping. His mention of his sister made something in me soften.


    I turned away, looking at the wall. Anywhere but the man who had somehow tracked me here. The truth was, I did want to make the lives of Alacryans better. I wanted to see a semblance of Earthen generosity and kindness once more. But the longer I spent in this zone, the more I felt it was gone forever.


    ¡°You¡¯ll fail in your quest to discover this tomb¡¯s secrets,¡± I said with tired certainty. Sevren Denoir would die in the Relictombs, consumed so only his dagger and cloak remained. And Caera Denoir, Sevren¡¯s sister, already knew well the horrors of the world; the truth given to her by her mentor. He would not become a part of that social change he desired so deeply. ¡°You can¡¯t change this world. Can¡¯t make it any better, no matter how you try.¡±


    ¡°Are you telling me that?¡± I heard Sevren ask. ¡°Or yourself?¡±


    I turned around, looking down at the man who had saved my life not ten minutes ago. And even before that, I would have died to what was left of Alun¡¯s wife if it weren¡¯t for his intervention.


    A deep, brutal part of myself whispered it would be wiser to simply kill the man. Nobody would be able to trace it back to me, and the others would simply assume he¡¯d been claimed by the Tombs.


    But his offhanded, seemingly thoughtless comment a moment earlier continued to ring through my head.


    ¡°And my sister wouldn¡¯t need to be a pawn in the Vritra¡¯s games.¡±


    I¡¯d reasserted a vow at Norgan¡¯s grave, hadn¡¯t I? To try and make this world a bit better? I looked at Promise, the warped metal proof of my current weakness. Would I let another promise be lost so quickly?


    My weapons shakily sheathed themselves into their scabbards. I fell slowly to the floor, the effort of putting weight on my injured leg too much to bear.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t supposed to ascend alone,¡± I said after a tense moment. ¡°My brother was supposed to join me. But he was taken from me for an act of selflessness.¡±


    I thought of the reasons for Kaelan Joan¡¯s brutal butchery of my only brother. It was for saving Duena from Lawris Joan¡¯s beating. Simply protecting a middle-aged woman from abuse resulted in death. And the system protected her. There were no repercussions for Kaelan¡¯s murder of my brother under broad daylight.


    Sevren gave me a sympathetic look, still slumped on the floor. ¡°This world just takes and takes, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Does anybody else have a way of tracking me through the Relictombs?¡±


    Sevren shook his head. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°What I made here was loosely based on simulets and my own research. I haven¡¯t given it out to anyone.¡±


    I blinked, refocusing on the Denoir heir. As I thought about it more, the implications of such a device began to mount in my head. ¡°Nobody?¡± I queried again. ¡°Not even your Scythe?¡±


    Sevren¡¯s face took on a repressed sneer. ¡°No. It''s my own invention.¡±


    With one hand, I reached into my pocket, retrieving the metal card containing the Denoir¡¯s contact information. The possibilities for this technology were far, far greater than just tracking me through the Relictombs. If a man put this card down in a zone and then went through the Relictombs again, he¡¯d be able to reliably enter the same zone twice.


    ¡°You could revolutionize exploration of the Relictombs,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Make charted, predictable paths. And this incredible technology¡­ you didn¡¯t present it to your Scythe?¡±


    Sevren¡¯s face became more guarded. ¡°This was a prototype. There¡¯s no reason to bring it up to my Scythe yet. Not until I have reliable tests, of course,¡± he said a bit defensively.


    I looked into his teal eyes, seeing the lie for what it was. This man never intended to present this technology to his Scythe at all.


    I chuckled slightly. If Sevren withheld such revolutionary technology from the Vritra, not even his highblood status would protect him. It was like keeping critical information secret during a military operation. Tantamount to treason.


    Again, I thought of Arthur¡¯s first meeting with Caera. The Vritra-blooded Lady Denoir was right about one thing: if you couldn¡¯t trust somebody, mutually assured destruction was a close second. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stowed the metal card back into my pocket.


    ¡°What?¡± Sevren Denoir said, raising a pure white brow. ¡°Not going to destroy the bug I planted on you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I said, resting my head against the back of the wall. ¡°Because if you tell anyone about what you¡¯ve seen regarding me, I¡¯ll show them this card and what it might mean.¡±


    Sevren sighed, standing slowly. He plodded over to me, looking down at my prone form for a moment. Then he held out his hand. ¡°You have my word that I¡¯ll keep my silence,¡± he said.


    After a moment of deliberation, I reached my hand out, clasping his own and hauling myself to my feet. My leg immediately buckled, but thankfully, Sevren was there to support me. He spared a glance down at my leg. ¡°Are you sure you can walk?¡±


    I huffed. ¡°Just move,¡± I said, tired.


    Sevren rolled his eyes, but soon we were making our way through the building, hopefully toward our companions.


    I hoped they were safe.

 Chapter 86: The Limping Return

    Toren Daen


    Our journey toward where the Unblooded Party had gone was a slow, fitful process. Several times I had to take short rests, fighting off the need to sleep. My leg ached like the devil, forcing me to rely on the Denoir heir¡¯s assistance to even move.


    As we slowly moved up the floors of the building, I made sure to focus on my hearing, trying to listen for any shuffling corpses.


    To my surprise, I heard none. Wherever we went, all we were greeted with were comatose undead, laying unresponsively on the floor. From the lingering mana around them and lack of wounds to the head or heart, I knew this hadn¡¯t been the work of the Unblooded Party and the others who had come through here before.


    ¡°What did this?¡± I asked quietly, unnerved by the abnormal display.


    Sevren peered down at one of the corpses, its eyes open wide and unblinking. ¡°After I ended that strange corpse that was about to kill you, all the nearby undead started acting strangely. Running into walls. Writhing on the ground. Or simply standing still, staring off into nothing. I didn¡¯t see what happened to them after that, but if I were to guess¡­¡±


    Once Promise had speared the flesh titan, the thing that had been Alun¡¯s wife had pulled itself out of the sordid wreckage, ready to finish the job. But it seemed that whatever effect it leveraged over the masses of undead didn¡¯t just break at its second death. It had a catastrophic domino effect on those under its influence, not unlike how the death of an acidbeam hivemother crippled all the hornets connected to its hivemind.


    I looked down at one of the zombies a ways ahead of us. It appeared to be a woman, but the thinning, patchy hair that seemed to be threaded through its decaying scalp could only tell me so much. The body was missing an arm.


    I hadn¡¯t actually been able to recall much from the aftermath of that fight besides the pain.


    Thoughts of that battle made me think of the aftermath, and the very-much-awake beast representing my basilisk blood. I felt a shiver of fear coat my skin in goosebumps as the thing pushed against my mind.


    I didn¡¯t know what would happen because of this. Would the thing go back to sleep, returning to the status quo? Or was this permanent damage, caused by my recklessness and inability to trust Lady Dawn?


    I swallowed, turning away from the corpse.


    But as Sevren and I walked, I was surprised as the man slowed. Considering I had an arm slung around his shoulder, his body the only thing helping me forward, I was forced to halt my pace as well.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, worried. I hadn¡¯t detected anything amiss, but Sevren Denoir had a strangely disturbed expression on his face. ¡°What do you sense.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t sense anything,¡± he whispered, his eyes focused on the same undead I¡¯d stared at before. ¡°It''s just¡­ I think I recognize that body.¡±


    I felt my breathing ratched up. ¡°What?¡± I said, some of my repressed fears about this zone rising to the surface once more. Alun¡¯s wife had been ripped away from the Twinfrosts, only to return as that thing.  ¡°You saw her die in this zone?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Sevren replied confidently, albeit slightly disturbed. ¡°But I recognize her clothing and what¡¯s left of her hair. Look, see the eroded symbol on her gambeson? That''s from Blood Hoarcrust. I saw this woman die in a convergence zone a few months back. Her team left her body where she fell, as is tradition.¡±


    I blinked, looking down at the body. This complicated my initial suspicions about how this zone got its monsters. After seeing what was left of Alun¡¯s wife¨CI was thinking of calling it a commander¨CI had the niggling suspicion that the undead who threw themselves at us in waves were sourced directly from those fallen in this zone.


    But on closer scrutiny, that didn¡¯t make sense. If so many ascenders¨Ceasily thousands¨Chad vanished in the last few weeks, there would have been a public panic from the Ascender¡¯s Association. It would be something too big to cover up.


    But if the bodies were taken¨Cor maybe even recreated¨Cfrom those who died in other zones of the Relictombs?


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± I asked, almost tripping as we carefully maneuvered around the prone bodies. I¡¯d regained enough of my mana to maintain a weak, close-clinging sound-dampening shroud around the two of us. ¡°I mean, it could simply be a look-alike.¡±


    ¡°I killed the beast that ripped her arm off,¡± he said in reply, silencing any further questions. ¡°That¡¯s her.¡±


    I looked forward once more. At this rate, it would take several hours more to reach the base marked as the Aensgar Exiles¡¯ hideaway, which Darrin had told me he would retreat towards.


    I could only hope the rest of our trek would be this simple.


    ¡ª


    Our speed picked up over the next few hours as I recovered my mana. Gradually, I began to use my magic as a splint for my wounded leg, using the sheathed Oath as a makeshift cane. As we progressed, we eventually ran into moving corpses once more. Evidently, the range of effect the commander undead had over the nearby corpses was limited. Once we exited that sphere, our caution ratcheted up a dozen notches.


    But each movement still hurt. I was feeling phantom aches from my core, echoes of the hell I¡¯d barely escaped with Sevren¡¯s help. As the hours dragged on, I realized with unnerving clarity that there was no familiar buildup of mana around my wounds that preluded my healing factor. I knew that my ability to heal slowed down significantly in the wake of using my Will, but this was something different. Instead of a drastic reduction in speed, there was simply nothing at all.


    Eventually, Sevren and I started seeing traces of people¡¯s passing. Remaining steel and earthen constructs jutted out here and there. Signs of quick battles and spells digging furrows into the ground dotted our path.


    I felt my spirits rise at these signs.


    And finally, Sevren and I reached the outskirts of the Aensgar Exiles¡¯ base.


    The Exiles had set themselves up in a similar position to the Twinfrost party: at the top of a building, with defenses instated all around.


    I heard them before I ever saw them.


    ¡°--And you just let them stay!¡± I heard a familiar voice cry. ¡°Now we¡¯ve lost our best chance to escape! And with what happened to Shaela, who knows if we¡¯ll have to¨C¡±


    ¡°What did you expect me to do?!¡± Darrin¡¯s voice¨Csurprisingly angry¨Ccut the other off. ¡°Force them to follow? We were going to be overwhelmed! Somebody had to watch our backs!¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s all you have to say?¡± Dima replied. ¡°You couldn¡¯t help it? It was out of your control?¡±


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    ¡°That¡¯s not what I said, Dima!¡± Darrin cried. ¡°What should I have done? Tell me! Why do I keep failing?¡±


    There was a beat of silence.


    Sevren chose that moment to knock on the door. I immediately felt half a dozen mana signatures ramp up in response.


    I sent an uncertain look at the Denoir heir.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to listen to that anymore,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°Better let them know we¡¯re alive, eh?¡±


    The door opened the barest of inches, a pair of eyes staring out. They widened when they saw us. ¡°It¡¯s Lord Denoir and Daen!¡± they called, shuffling back. ¡°They¡¯re alive!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t open that door!¡± Darrin¡¯s harsh voice thundered over. ¡°Look at their eyes! Are they still human?¡±


    I cleared my throat. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed you thought I¡¯d die so easily Darrin,¡± I said, amplifying my voice slightly with magic. ¡°But I really, really need a nap.¡± sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was a commotion on the other side of the door before it was flung open. Darrin stared back, a disbelieving cast on his face. His normally neat exterior had frayed. One of the edges of his shirt was untucked from his pants and his hair looked like it had been sent through a hurricane.


    He scrutinized us for a moment before smiling shakily. ¡°Come on then, men! Can¡¯t leave you out in the cold.¡±


    Sevren helped me on, one arm still draped around his shoulder. The steady click-click-click of Oath¡¯s sheath on the tiled floor heralded my entry into the Exiles¡¯ little base.


    Taking a quick glance around, I was relieved to see there were no missing people. A few had more bandages on than I last remembered, but no missing limbs¨Cor people¨Cthat I could see.


    Dima was giving me a complicated look, standing where most were sitting or simply out cold on bedrolls. I gave her a slow nod, which she returned hesitantly.


    I was surprised as another person hurriedly approached. Jana had set her shield to the side, and her eyes were creased with worry. ¡°Toren, are you hurt?¡± She looked uncertainly at my leg, noting the seeping bandages. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll help you to a bedroll.¡±


    Sevren moved aside as Jana hastily draped my arm around her shoulder. Before she could move, however, I called back to Sevren. ¡°Could you tell Darrin about¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it, Toren. Take a rest. You look like you¡¯ll collapse.¡±


    I nodded, allowing Jana to pull me away. She moved me to one of the available bedrolls. I almost tripped with how fast she was moving, hissing through my teeth as I put too much weight on my leg.


    Jana stalled. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said tiredly. I had been up and moving for nearly sixteen hours, and with my constant battling, exhausting assimilation process, I felt like I was fighting off a coma. ¡°I¡¯m not at my best,¡± I added shakily.


    The shield paused before the bedroll. ¡°Well, we aren¡¯t always,¡± she said quietly. She let me down gently onto the roll. ¡°You were kind to me when I was weak. It is only fair to repay the favor.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable meeting the earnest woman¡¯s eyes. Instead, I focused on something I knew. ¡°Your bandage needs to be changed,¡± I said, noting how it had been soaked through.


    She looked down at the stump of her hand. ¡°With all that was happening, it must¡¯ve slipped my mind.¡± She looked up at me again. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re fine? Do you need anything?¡±


    ¡°Just rest,¡± I lied. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The shield hovered around my roll for a few seconds longer, seeming uncertain, before standing up and marching woodenly toward where Sevren was talking with Darrin, Dima, and Hraedel.


    The back of my skull hit the sad excuse for a pillow the bedroll had. But despite my utter exhaustion, I was unable to force myself to sleep. The events of the last few hours replayed in my mind.


    Especially the trust I¡¯d shown Sevren Denoir. I did not know if it was the wisest choice. In fact, the cool, utilitarian side of my mind said it most certainly wasn¡¯t.


    But that trust opened up other wounds I¡¯d been forcing to the side. If I could trust Sevren Denoir after his betrayal¨Cpractically a stranger¨Chow could I ignore the other?


    As if sensing my thoughts, a small, barren emotion traced its way over my mental tether. Just as I¡¯d felt it right before asking Sevren for his help with assimilating, that bit of worry and hope threaded over my Bond¡¯s connection with me.


    Well? I sent, feeling tired yet still defiant. What do you want to say?


    The Unseen World washed over my vision once again. Lady Dawn knelt nearby in seiza position, her heels tucked under her thighs. Her hands were clasped over her torso, and the asura seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes.


    ¡°What I did was wrong,¡± she said slowly. ¡°I know any attempts to atone will be insufficient. I think of my time in Agrona¡¯s dungeons, and what that stolen time took from me. I never saw my son grow, or assist him in his life. And I think of what you must have lost in your own world.¡± She turned her head away. ¡°Of what I took.¡±


    I exhaled forcibly, cursing my current weakness. I wanted to punch something. To release my anger as a physical force. Yet my limbs only lethargically answered my call as I slammed a fist into the tiles beside my body.


    You knew the pain it would cause, I thought scathingly. Yet did it anyway.


    Lady Dawn was silent as I simmered. I wanted to degrade her. To hurl insults, calling her sincerity into question. Here was another lying deity, no better than Kezess. No better than Agrona.


    But I couldn¡¯t. I had felt her emotion¨Cpure as any mountain spring¨Cflow over our bond. Her regret was true. Her desire to mend our bond burned was as bright as any star in the sky.


    ¡°It¡¯s easier for we asura to degrade you as lesser,¡± Lady Dawn said, drawing my attention back to her. ¡°Makes it easy to justify lording over you. Using you as we wish for our own ends.¡± The phoenix stilled, looking down at her hands. Her feathery hair cloaked her face. ¡°I speak as if I am better than the High Sovereign. As if I am separate from his immorality and cruelty. Yet I see in myself the same callousness. The same willingness to forfeit life, no matter how small, for my own ends.¡±


    My breath caught. It was my turn to look away from the phoenix now, the sincerity and pain in her words hurting something in me I didn¡¯t know could be wounded.


    I can¡¯t be your bond, I thought shakily. My fists clenched, my fingernails digging divots into my palm. I felt blood making my hand slick, but the pain was distant. Every single second I¡¯m in this zone, I¡¯m forced to look at what I¡¯ve lost. The Relictombs grabs me by the scalp and peels my eyelids open, forcing me into the agony of looking at something infinitely close to what I mourn for. Yet I¡¯ll never have it. And then I turn inward and find the reason for this in my closest ally.


    Lady Dawn wilted. A long, painful silence stretched between us. I stared up at the ceiling, counting the drywall tiles in a vain attempt to ignore the clenching in my chest.


    ¡°It may be possible to sever our bond,¡± Lady Dawn said, though the words were stone. ¡°If that is what you wish. I do not know what will happen to your soul if we try, however. Our connection runs deeper than flesh. To cut that would be to carve out a part of what makes you whole.¡±


    I looked back at the phoenix. And what would that mean for you?


    ¡°I suspect I would finally find the Beyond,¡± she said solemnly.


    I kept my eyes trained on the asura for a few moments before rolling over and turning my back on her.


    I don¡¯t want that, I finally thought, putting words to my emotions. For all you¡¯ve done, I can¡¯t lose you, too. But I can¡¯t look at you right now. Every time I see a skyscraper or a vending machine or a simple traffic light, seeing you beside it burns me more than anything. I just¡­ I took a shuddering breath. I need time. Please.


    I didn¡¯t know what this conversation meant. I didn¡¯t know how much time I needed to accept Lady Dawn back into my life. But right now, her presence only served to remind me of what I¡¯d lost.


    ¡°I understand,¡± the phoenix said quietly, a bit of inflection returning to her voice. ¡°I shall wait for when you are ready to accept me.¡±


    The Unseen World washed away from my vision, leaving me in the darkness of the office building once more. I ruminated on my new life as my consciousness slipped from my mind like sand.

 Chapter 87: To Escape

    Toren Daen


    I was awoken by a slight prodding at my shoulder. I groaned as I opened my eyes.


    Dima was crouching by my bedroll. ¡°Time to get up, Daen,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯ve slept for over twelve hours. We¡¯re having a meeting here soon.¡±


    Twelve hours? Damn, I was exhausted yesterday. My thinking struggled to catch up as my still-tired mind loped along.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you let a man sleep for a few minutes longer?¡± I asked, feeling my leg ache as I tried to move it.


    ¡°You¡¯re needed at the discussion,¡± Dima said, standing up. ¡°Considering your abilities are what will get us out of this hell.¡±


    I lay facefirst in the bed for a few more moments, absently wondering what in all the hells Darrin had seen in that woman to be her lover. Anyone who woke you up too early was not a good person.


    I sat up, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I¡¯d need to tie it back into a short tail soon.


    Calling on my mana, I searched through my dimension rune for a very specific item. Finding it, I pulled it out with a flourish.


    The first item I¡¯d ever found in the Relictombs that resembled my earthen life stared back at me. The crisp aluminum can with a misshapen Dunkin¡¯ Donuts label stared back, a crude orange and purple resemblance to canned coffee from my previous life.


    I popped the tab, savoring the satisfying hiss it made. I sniffed at the liquid inside, trying to see if it had gone bad in the month or so it had been since I¡¯d picked up the coffee.


    It smelled heavenly, the familiar caffeinated brew pulling at my mind. My mouth watered as I stared at the pale brown liquid.


    I tilted it back, taking a sip. I closed my eyes in a bit of bliss as the liquid trailed down my throat.


    Just like the can it came from, the coffee was off in a way. It tasted a bit too sharp, with the aftertaste not lingering as long as I¡¯d expected. But the part that stung was that I knew there was more about this drink that was wrong, but the time I¡¯d spent away from Earth had dulled my memory. I couldn¡¯t point out what was off about the coffee.


    I downed the rest of it anyway. It presumably had caffeine, and I¡¯d been living in a semblance of my previous life for nearly a week already. A bit of bean juice wasn¡¯t enough to throw me off.


    When I finished the drink, I crushed the aluminum in my hands. I let the can sink back into my dimension ring before I slowly struggled to stand.


    My leg didn¡¯t like that, however. I had to use a few steady telekinetic pushes to make it to my feet, then use Oath as a cane once more. I looked around the sparse living area the Aensgar Exiles had used, spotting the majority of the group conversing around a table a few yards away.


    I slowly made my way toward them, the click-clack of my sheath on the tile alerting the group. Hraedel had been the one speaking, and I could see him pause as I approached slowly. Jameson and the Exiles¡¯ other shield¨CI¡¯d never learned their name¨Chung behind their leader. The twins simmered on the side, sending glares my way. Jana stood several feet away from the twins, but she smiled slightly when my eyes passed over her. Alandra hung close to Jared, who leaned on his own shield. Darrin stood at the fore, seemingly taking charge alongside Hraedel.


    Sevren leaned against a nearby support pillar, seeming disconnected from the whole thing. He gave me a nod.


    ¡°Since Dima seemed so happy to wake me up,¡± I said, still feeling a bit grumpy about that, ¡°I¡¯m betting you all need my opinion on something?¡±


    Hraedel nodded slowly, sparing a glance toward Sevren and Jana. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you alive, Daen,¡± he said before continuing. ¡°Jana says you told her to burn Alun¡¯s body. You said¡­ You said that was how the undead added to their numbers.¡± The man seemed to force the words out. ¡°Lord Denoir refrained from telling us what he knew, saying you would be able to do it better.¡±


    I paused, the final click of Oath¡¯s sheath echoing like a stone dropped through an empty cavern. I gave the Denoir heir a sideways glance. ¡°It took me a while to piece it together,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of old folk tales where the dead would rise, adding the living to their number with every kill,¡± I said, using the lie I concocted to explain my knowledge of the undead. ¡°So I didn¡¯t discount something like that happening from the start. But your accusation confirmed that suspicion.¡±


    Hraedel frowned. The rest of the group seemed to lean forward in nervous anticipation. ¡°What do you mean about my accusation? We were attacked by a member of the Twinfrost¨C¡± The shield blinked. ¡°I think I see.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, exhaling. ¡°The Twinfrosts claimed to have lost a member a long time before you were eventually attacked. And considering what they lost in that encounter, I found it hard to disbelieve.¡±


    ¡°So every single person,¡± Alandra said, her voice tinged with horror, ¡°Every single undead in this zone is somebody who died here?¡±


    I winced. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± I said. ¡°Just the ones like¡­ like Alun¡¯s wife. The commanders. Sevren can tell you more.¡±


    Sevren shot me a look for passing the torch to him, but he obliged after a moment. He told the group the story of how he¡¯d stumbled across the body of a woman he saw get ripped apart, and the theory the two of us had crafted because of it.


    As he answered a few questions, however, I felt one of my own rise. ¡°Wait,¡± I said, drawing the attention of all present back to me. ¡°Jana, did you burn Alun¡¯s body?¡±


    The woman cringed inward. I immediately felt guilty for what was essentially digging into an open wound, but I needed to know if we¡¯d have to face another commander. I wasn¡¯t sure if I would be able to fight them effectively.


    The eyes of all were trained on the bronze-skinned shield for a few moments. ¡°I¨C I lost it. I had to protect the twins. I couldn¡¯t take his body with me when I needed to hold my shield.¡± The admission seemed to crack something within the woman as she looked at the floor.


    ¡°And now it''s going to try and kill all of us, too,¡± a shaky voice said from the side. I turned, noting the pinched expression of Numar Frost. ¡°Alun¡¯s going to rise from the dead and kill us all! All because you couldn¡¯t hold onto a single corpse!¡±


    A surprising number of people looked away or inspected the floor. Jana seemed to wither, shame radiating from her like heat off a stove.


    I narrowed my eyes. Numar was wrong to blame Jana for that.


    I stepped forward, my cane clicking on the ground. I slowly approached Numar and Bered, my back hunched from my injuries. Yet the boys still shied away at my approach, the intent leaking off me palpable.


    ¡°It¡¯s true that we¡¯ll probably have to face another commander undead,¡± I allowed. ¡°But what isn¡¯t fair is the blame you place on the woman who keeps sacrificing for your ungrateful hides.¡±


    Bered puffed out his chest slightly. ¡°And what would you know of us? You have no right to judge!¡±


    I sneered. ¡°I had a brother once,¡± I said. With my limp, my imposing height was closer to that of the twins in front of me. Yet I still felt taller. ¡°He died after protecting an innocent woman from people like you,¡± I said with a snarl. I pointed a finger at Jana, who looked like an empty shell. ¡°That woman continues to sacrifice for you. First her hand. And now she let her friend¡¯s body be possessed by the unholy magics of this zone. Her friend who treated her with more respect than I¡¯ve ever seen you display. And still, you mock her.¡±


    With every word, the twins cowered more. The other mages around looked at me with unnerved expressions, a few of them seeming ashamed of their subconscious blame for Jana. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your stupid need to look big and strong. You can posture all you want, but Jana prioritized your petty, ignorant lives over the body of a dear friend. Never disrespect sacrifice.¡± My shoulders sagged. ¡°Never,¡± I said with a whisper.


    I turned on my heels. I had just slept for twelve hours, but I felt as if I could sleep for twelve more. I began to walk away, the crowd of mages parting for me as I stalked past. ¡°My magic is as potent as ever,¡± I said, keeping my eyes forward. ¡°You can expect me to perform just as well helping you escape. You¡¯ll have your sound mage.¡±


    The basilisk in me seethed.


    ¡ª


    It was several hours later that the meeting dispersed. I¡¯d kept a distance, brooding on one of the nearby couches. They¡¯d gone through different plans, finally ironing out one that would give them the best chance of escape.


    The largest problem, as the group quickly realized, was not actually evading the zombies as we would move closer to the portal. No, the problem came from the massive lake that surrounded the island the portal was on. Darrin suspected¨Cand rightly in my opinion¨Cthat there would be something lurking beneath the waves, and the company still needed a reliable way across.


    Thus our shields¨Cand the caster the Aensgar Exiles employed¨Cwould be vital. They could create a pseudo raft for us to float on, allowing us to gradually paddle our way across.


    As the mages dispersed to tend to their late afternoon routines, Sevren plopped down on the couch beside me. I turned a skeptical eye toward him.


    ¡°How good of a chance do you think we¡¯ll have to escape this zone?¡± he asked absently.


    I felt very mixed feelings about the Denoir heir. On one hand, he¡¯d saved my life multiple times, putting himself in harm¡¯s way when he clearly didn¡¯t need to. Furthermore, we had an almost unspoken synergy when we fought and worked together. It reminded me painfully of the instinctual teamwork Norgan and I employed.


    On the other hand, he¡¯d also stalked me through the Relictombs, having correctly deduced I would have an adverse effect on the zones I traveled through. He¡¯d seen more of Earth than any other person on this world, save for the other Reincarnates.


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    ¡°The Relictombs are a trial,¡± I said slowly. I remembered the maddened djinn¡¯s words. We make a test for you, Twinsoul. To grant you insight. ¡°They present a challenge to overcome. A puzzle to solve. We just need to prove ourselves in the trial.¡±


    ¡°And do you think you can?¡± Sevren asked quietly.


    I swallowed, watching as the many mages around us began dinner preparations. Jared conjured a flat metal sheet, using it over a fire Alandra had created to cook something I couldn¡¯t see. Jameson worked with Dima and Darrin to coordinate the movement of people and the timing of food preparations.


    I¡¯d had a long time to consider what the djinn meant when he said ¡®We make a test for you.¡¯ And after the harrowing ordeals of this concrete jungle¨Cespecially what I saw in the intent around the commander undead¨CI had a feeling I was narrowing in on the trial of this zone.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to, won¡¯t I?¡± I said, not meeting Sevren Denoir¡¯s eyes. He had a far deeper grasp on the workings of these tombs than Caera ever implied. ¡°But I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll get the answers you seek.¡±


    ¡°The answers we seek aren¡¯t always the answers we need,¡± the Denoir heir deflected. ¡°I have a feeling about you, Toren Daen. And I¡¯ve learned to trust my gut.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Careful with that ¡®feeling,¡¯ Lord Denoir,¡± I said. ¡°I have a tendency to break Promises.¡± I grasped my dagger with my telekinesis, hovering it for dramatic effect. ¡°As you can see.¡±


    The Denoir heir narrowed his eyes at the Damascus-patterned red metal. ¡°That¡¯s a basilisk-blood alloy,¡± he said quietly. ¡°They¡¯re notoriously difficult to even damage. Are those¡­ finger marks? What did that to your weapon, Daen?¡±


    I felt my mood sour further as I thought once more of Mardeth and his stranglehold over East Fiachra. He¡¯d thrashed me at my best, using me as a plaything. Then he¡¯d discarded me like trash, ordering me to get stronger. To become the ¡®Kezess to his Agrona.¡¯


    And all the progress¨Call the hope the Rats and I had brought to the downtrodden¨Chad vanished like smoke.


    I thought of the oath I¡¯d sworn, drawing my own blood with Promise. I would kill Mardeth.


    ¡°I have my own enemies,¡± I said vaguely. ¡°Ones I need to be strong enough to kill.¡±


    The Denoir heir looked at the metal with an almost disbelieving expression for a while before I sheathed the dagger.


    Deciding I needed to change the track of my mind, I searched inside my dimension ring for something else. Finding it, I withdrew my violin case, feeling the old metal settle onto my lap. Once I clicked open the case, Sevren¡¯s brow rose.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a musician,¡± he said appraisingly. ¡°You seem too stern for it.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for a highblood heir,¡± I shot back, not without humor. ¡°You seem to hate frolicking with people too much.¡±


    Sevren sniffed. ¡°Point made.¡±


    I settled the clarwood instrument against my jaw, closing my eyes as I rested the bow across the strings. In the many days I¡¯d been in this zone, I¡¯d had a long time to contemplate what my music was missing.


    I began to play a slower, classical tune from my old life. Fur Elise drew itself from the depths of my subconscious, Beethoven¡¯s old classical piece translating beautifully to the aether-beast hairs of my violin.


    I let myself drift deeper into my own mind. I thought of all the skills that worked together to form my unique intent-driven music. There was the ability to enforce my will on the ambient mana: commonly known as killing intent and King¡¯s Force to the educated. My regular conversations with Lady Dawn over our bond gave me practice in sequestering and focusing my emotions over a narrow passage.


    In the relative weeks I¡¯d spent ascending through the Relictombs, I practiced constantly with this method of conveying emotion. I¡¯d gotten proficient, but it was lacking something that had allowed me to create the wondrous connection to the people of East Fiachra that night I played Auld Lang Syne.


    But after witnessing the commander creature and the way it wielded intent through the ambient mana, I had a feeling I¡¯d found another bit of the whole. The almost nebulous cloud that drifted around the undead constantly was a sign of muddled intent, but when the commander activated its abilities, that wafting cloud had condensed. Purpose was bestowed upon the directionless, and drive was achieved.


    And so I played, drawing on the vague insight I¡¯d achieved by accident. My arm moved in slow, measured draws over the strings, echoing fast-paced chords as Fur Elise went on. I allowed my emotion to flow: not quite controlled in the way I did when communicating with Lady Dawn, yet not so free that it would muddle the waters.


    I exhaled as I drew out the last note. My eyes had been closed for the entirety of my piece, allowing me the focus necessary to draw from my emotion within.


    When I opened them, I was greeted with wide, awestruck faces from every angle. The food preparation had simply halted in its tracks. Jared¡¯s food was close to boiling over, Alandra¡¯s flame licking the side of his pan. The twins, who had been in the middle of carrying something, watched me with uncomprehending eyes. Darrin hovered near the edge of the food prep area, his usual jaunty smile finally back in place.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Jared said, breaking the silence and brushing his beard as he lifted his little plate higher. ¡°And I thought that bard at the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard was good. Shows what I know!¡± Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hraedel worked his jaw. ¡°What was that? Some sort of spellform that made your music so¡­¡± He seemed lost for words.


    ¡°Compelling?¡± Alandra offered, her eyes glazed over.


    Hraedel nodded mutely.


    I cleared my throat, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks and setting my violin back into its case. ¡°No, actually. It''s technically magic, I suppose, but I use intent to convey what I feel. I¡¯m not forcing emotion onto you like some mana arts do.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s eyes narrowed from the side, but I ignored it.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Bered said, pushing through his shock. ¡°You touched our emotions. That was unnatural! It must be a spellform of some kind.¡±


    I frowned, trying to think of an analogy. ¡°It¡¯s not, actually. When one of you sees a child crying, you feel sympathy, yeah?¡± I said. ¡°A part of you remembers being a child yourselves. You know somewhere, deep down, what it''s like to weep like that. This technique works similarly. You see what I feel and sympathize with it, except to a greater degree due to the purity of what I convey. And it''s not a spellform. Any mage can use killing intent, after all.¡±


    The twins exchanged uncertain glances, looking unconvinced. The lull stayed for a while, the mages out and about seeming uncertain of how they could go back to their work after my display. Eventually, however, the hustle and bustle of cooking continued.


    I looked down at my violin, feeling a complex web of emotions. I¡¯d succeeded in replicating what I¡¯d shown at the New Year¡¯s Festival in its entirety, yet I was left grasping for more. I thought I could improve this even further.


    ¡°The commander undead,¡± Sevren said quietly. ¡°It did something similar to this. Somehow.¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer him, stowing my instrument back into my dimension ring. That ring held all my essentials, plus a few extras. Namely, the gun replica I¡¯d picked up on my last ascent and the glowing phoenix feather the djinn had left behind.


    I still was unsure of what I wanted to do with that feather. When I got the chance, I asked myself where the djinn could have possibly gotten it. Did they have some sort of connection to the Hearth? Or was it another conjuration of the Relictombs?


    Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d ever know. The maddened djinn who had left it behind probably wouldn¡¯t answer my questions. The existence of that old, decrepit ancient mage in that town zone raised enough questions as is.


    Darrin sat next to me with a thump, a satisfied smile on his face. ¡°I think that was just what everyone needed to get their spirits up, Toren,¡± he said. ¡°Thanks for that.¡±


    I huffed but silently accepted the thanks. My attention, however, was drawn to Jared and Alandra as they cooked together. They¡¯d always worked well together as a team, regardless of their spats, but they seemed close tonight. The burly shield scratched at his eyepatch, unbalancing the little skillet he¡¯d made. Alandra quickly leaned over the man¡¯s lap, adjusting the skillet before it could tip. Her auburn hair draped over her face. She snapped something at Jared, who said something back.


    Darrin followed my gaze, his smile becoming wider. ¡°You look very confused, Toren,¡± he said.


    ¡°Well, yeah,¡± I replied. ¡°Those two?¡± I said, disbelieving. ¡°I¡¯d sooner expect the Doctrination to proclaim the dragons the true gods of this world than those two to hook up. Alandra¡¯s always tearing his hair out, and Jared¡¯s an unrepentant napper.¡±


    Darrin¡¯s smirk softened. ¡°Why do you think they squabble in the first place?¡± he said, a glimmer in his eye. ¡°Love and hate are two sides of the same coin.¡±


    I sighed, my mind drifting slightly as I watched Jared and Alandra do something between flirting and fighting.


    Jana stepped up, her lone hand holding a plate steaming with rice and vegetables. She was a large woman, easily as tall as I was, and filled out her frame better. She smiled when she caught my eye, holding the plate up.


    ¡°I saw you weren¡¯t cooking,¡± she said a bit quickly. ¡°So I thought I¡¯d make you some food. You¡¯re our sound mage, after all. We need you to keep your strength up.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, accepting the plate gratefully. ¡°I, uh, kinda forgot that I should¡¯ve been cooking something for myself.¡±


    The bronze-skinned woman''s smile widened slightly. ¡°No worries, then?¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Why would there be?¡±


    The shield shook her head, backing away. ¡°It''s nothing. I hope you enjoy the food,¡± she said, before walking back toward the cookpots.


    I speared a floret of some sort of vegetable that looked close to broccoli, bringing it to my mouth.


    Upon seeing Darrin¡¯s shit-eating grin and Sevren¡¯s raised brow, however, I lowered the fork.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Darrin simply smiled wider, his green eyes twinkling. Sevren slumped back into his seat.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked again, genuinely confused.


    ¡°You seem so confused by Jared and Alandra,¡± Darrin said slowly, savoring each word, ¡°Meanwhile, there¡¯s an Amazon warrior already cooking your meals!¡±


    I dropped my fork in surprise. ¡°No, she¡¯s just being kind!¡± I said, grasping the implication immediately. ¡°I helped her with her bandages earlier! And with the Frost twin, too. She¡¯s only repaying the favor.¡±


    Darrin crossed his arms, raising a brow.


    It took a second for my words to catch up with my brain. That sounded like a sound argument in my head. Not so much when spoken aloud.


    I huffed. ¡°Yeah, maybe that doesn¡¯t help my point. But only if you look at it through your perspective.¡±


    ¡°Come on, Toren,¡± the leader of the Unblooded Party said. ¡°What¡¯s holding you back from courting that lovely woman?¡± He spared a glance behind himself, where Jana was working. ¡°If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t mind having those thighs wrapped around my¨C¡±


    The weight of all my burdens compelled me to lash out, striking at this sore spot that Darrin had inadvertently found. ¡°What¡¯s stopping you from getting with Dima again?¡± I said a bit snappily, cutting the striker off mid-sentence.


    Darrin looked at me, a bit of shock in his face.


    I looked away from my friend, immediately regretting my outburst. I took a deep, measuring breath, then let it out slowly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said quietly. ¡°That was uncalled for.¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± Darrin acknowledged.


    ¡°Romance is¡­ a difficult topic for me,¡± I said, feeling too ashamed to look at the leader of the Unblooded Party. To lash out in such a way was the height of immaturity. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±


    To truly fall in love with someone, you needed a level of understanding and vulnerability that this continent would never allow me. I was from another world, waging a silent war against the godlike leaders of this society. Who could sympathize with that? Who could I confide this in that would not drop me into Agrona¡¯s hands?


    I would never be as close to a woman as I could be. And no relationship could stand on a foundation of lies and mistruths.


    I let that irritation simmer in my gut silently. It was another thing that I might have had on Earth, but couldn¡¯t in Alacrya.


    Darrin gave me a somber pat on the back before standing up. He left me to brood on what I¡¯d lost once again.

 Chapter 88: Mending Wounds

    Darrin Ordin


    I walked away from Toren, feeling a strange sense of loss welling up from his words.


    ¡°What¡¯s stopping you from getting with Dima again?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know where we went wrong, honestly. Half a decade ago, Dima and I had been on track to settle down truly. We¡¯d met in the Relictombs ten years ago in a convergence zone. Back then, the Unblooded Party hadn¡¯t even been a name worth the dirt on a highblood¡¯s boots. But she¡¯d fit in naturally, her sense of justice and independence like the missing cog in a machine. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Once things had gotten further on in our relationship, I¡¯d even considered retiring from ascending, even though the thought of leaving behind the thrill tugged on something in my gut. And if we were to have a family, I¡¯d need to give up my more dangerous avenues, too.


    And then we had the talk. I told her what I was thinking. Where I¡¯d seen our relationship heading.


    And Dima went dark. She cut off all contact for a year straight, avoiding me and the rest of our party. I¡¯d gone over that conversation for years, trying to find what I¡¯d said wrong. Had I been too forward? Had I not shown enough dedication?


    Every time my eyes landed on Dima, I felt that open wound smolder just a bit more. But despite all the time that had passed, I knew the woman. If I tried to push the issue; tried to broach the open gap between us, she¡¯d hunker down.


    I found that grimly amusing. That was something I found attractive about her: her bull-headed stubbornness. If a rock thought to stand in her path, her glare would weather it down to dust, and she¡¯d continue on as if nothing had interrupted her in the first place.


    But that made talking to her difficult.


    I moved toward Hraedel. We were the two figureheads of this operation, and both of us knew it. That was the nature of leadership: standing tall so others could stand tall in turn. But the shield and I didn¡¯t always see eye-to-eye.


    Scratch that; we rarely agreed. The man was deep in the pockets of a number of Named Bloods I¡¯d had legal spats with. He didn¡¯t like me. I didn¡¯t like him.


    But he was a leader. He recognized the necessity of working with me, regardless of our disagreements. There was a begrudging respect between us that came from shared tolerance of the other.


    ¡°How long do you think it¡¯ll take to prepare your team?¡± I asked Hraedel, trying to distract my mind from the thoughts of Dima.


    Hraedel was spooning himself a heaping of rice onto a paper plate. Even weeks later, this zone continued to baffle me. The intricate colors on simple things like paper plates felt like a waste. Colored ink was expensive. To see it constantly was weird.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give them a more thorough rundown of their jobs,¡± the leader of the Aensgar Exiles affirmed. ¡°Jameson already knows how to make bridges. Just make sure your shield can match him. Else we aren¡¯t avoiding any undead at all.¡±


    It had taken some painful negotiations to get the Exiles and Twinfrosts on board with working together. Namely, my team and I had to sacrifice part of our potential accolade cut¨Cand any claim to a relic within this zone¨Cto convince them all to work with us. I¡¯d promised the rest of my team that I¡¯d compensate them from my own personal reserves once we made it out, yet it still left a lump in my gut.


    I smirked. ¡°Jared can outmatch anything Jameson can do, friend,¡± I said. ¡°You should cross your fingers about yourself. How many boats have you made?¡±


    Hraedel, unfortunately, didn¡¯t take my bait. A shame. ¡°I know my craft,¡± he said. He gave his food a slight taste. ¡°I refrained from asking during the meeting,¡± he said slowly, ¡°But how did you come across this food?¡±


    I felt my smirk sink slightly. There wasn¡¯t much of a point hiding that information now that we were close to an escape attempt. ¡°Toren spotted a strange building upon entering this zone,¡± I said. ¡°He thought it might have been a store. We didn¡¯t have much left to lose, so I took a gamble. It paid off.¡±


    Hraedel looked at Toren Daen, who was eating his food with morose slowness. The young mage had that contemplative look he wore whenever he brooded. I wondered if he realized how much he displayed his thoughts on his face.


    ¡°He¡¯s a strange one,¡± Hraedel said. ¡°Even for an ascender. That music he played¡­¡± the man shook his head.


    I sympathized silently. I¡¯d been affected by emotion rioting spells before in the courtroom, specifically in my legal battles against Highblood Patamoor. The ability to enflame emotions was banned from the court floor, but between a highblood and an unblooded? The rules became guidelines. Suggestions.


    What Toren had done wasn¡¯t like that. There was an element of alien influence I could feel when emotion-altering spells touched my mind. Yet what flowed into me when Toren played his violin¡­ my emotions were my own. I felt compelled to believe him when he said it was hyper-sympathy.


    ¡°He looks young,¡± Hraedel said absently. ¡°How long has he been an ascender?¡± he asked.


    I opened my mouth to reply, then paused. I hadn¡¯t actually considered Toren¡¯s supposed inexperience. He worked so fluidly and acted so maturely that I often forgot his age.


    It felt unbelievable that the young man had only been an ascender for a month or so. He acted as if he had years of experience under his belt. Sure, there were times when his inexperience showed, but those times were few and far between.


    And he had no academy training, either. Most ascenders would look down on another mage for not going through the conventional channels. But if he was as skilled as he was without academy training¡­


    ¡°He¡¯s always been a solo ascender,¡± I said in response. I couldn¡¯t afford any sort of doubts in Toren, especially now that we were about to rely on him so thoroughly for our escape. ¡°I went on an ascent with him before this. He saved my life more than one time.¡±


    Hraedel took a liberal swig of booze from his wineskin. ¡°Damn. Solo at that age. He might¡¯ve saved our lives holding that bridge,¡± he said. ¡°Just have to trust him again, I suppose.¡±


    I watched as Alandra spilled something on Jared¡¯s light chainmail armor. She rolled her eyes, saying something to him. The shield said something back, gesturing wildly at his soaked armor. Alandra shook her head, then grabbed his tunic and began to haul him off to the bathroom nearby.


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    I began to laugh lightly, seeing through her ploy. Sure, there were cleaning supplies in the bathroom she could use to clean off his armor. But I knew they would be in that bathroom for quite a while.


    My laughter died off as my eyes met with Dima¡¯s. There was a coldness there that drained that bit of amusement from me like water through a drain.


    ¡°What¡¯s stopping you from getting with Dima again?¡± Toren¡¯s scathing voice bounced around in my skull.


    Alandra had finally worked up the courage to make a move on Jared. I¡¯d watched her steal glances at the shield for years, subtly hinting at her feelings. And now, in the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring, she was finally taking that step she needed.


    And what leader could I be if I didn¡¯t set an example for those who followed me?


    I snatched Hraedel¡¯s wineskin from his hand as he began to tilt it back, earning an affronted shout. I ignored it, tilting it back. Warm, burning brandy washed down my throat. The alcohol churned in my stomach.


    I shoved the wineskin back into Hraedel¡¯s hands, ignoring his glare. Squaring my shoulders, I sauntered over to where Dima oversaw the food preparations with Jana.


    She watched me approach imperiously. I smiled, forcing my lips wide.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I said. ¡°Need any help with food prep around here?¡±


    Jana perked up. ¡°Yes, actually we could¨C¡±


    ¡°We have everything we need,¡± Dima¡¯s voice cut across Jana¡¯s words like the crack of a whip. ¡°Though the other stations could probably use help.¡±


    I turned toward Jana. ¡°Dima has a point, it seems,¡± I said. ¡°Could you give Jameson some help with the stir fry?¡± I said hopefully.


    She looked ready to protest, then thought better of it. Jana looked between us, sensing the tension. The poor shield looked mightily uncomfortable, Dima¡¯s eyes boring holes into my face. ¡°I¡¯ll go do that,¡± she said.


    ¡°Good luck,¡± I said with a wave, watching her awkwardly shuffle away.


    ¡°Was that necessary?¡± Dima asked. I turned back to the woman, suppressing the surge of longing in my chest. Her eyes were so piercing. So many people thought her judgemental. They were wrong. She saw the truth of things. That was why she fought so hard for those less privileged than she. She did not take half-hearted excuses.


    I felt my grin slip. I couldn¡¯t keep up false pretenses with this woman. I¡¯d never been able to. ¡°To get a chance to speak with you alone, it was,¡± I said honestly.


    Dima looked down at the bowl she was stirring. I didn¡¯t recognize what she was making. ¡°You should go back to planning with the others,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to speak about here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s nobody else I can talk to. Toren¡¯s busy sulking on the couch,¡± I said. ¡°Lord Denoir doesn¡¯t like talking to anybody but the aforementioned Daen. The twins? I think I¡¯d rather take a bath in carallian blood than speak with them for too long.¡±


    A slight smile flitted across Dima¡¯s face, though her bob cut covered her eyes. Progress. Just gotta keep this up.


    ¡°Hraedel is probably upset I took a swig from his brandy, so that¡¯s a no-go,¡± I continued. ¡°And Alandra and Jared¡­¡±


    Dima took a covert glance toward where our sentry and shield had once been lounging. When she saw they were gone, she gave me an uncertain look.


    ¡°Alandra dragged Jared off to the bathroom,¡± I said, a knowing smile splitting my face. ¡°I think it would be very rude to insert myself into that kerfuffle.¡±


    Dima turned away again. ¡°So that¡¯s what this is about?¡± she asked. ¡°You see the others hooking up and want to fall back into old habits?¡±


    I crossed my arms. ¡°No, Dima,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I just want to know what went wrong between us. Why we¡¯re like¡­ this now.¡±


    ¡°Nothing went wrong,¡± Dima snapped. ¡°You can just keep going on your ascents, free of care. I realized I didn¡¯t have a part in that.¡±


    ¡°Something went wrong,¡± I retorted. ¡°That night, I thought¡­¡± I swallowed. ¡°What did I do? How did I drive you away?¡±


    Dima looked out the window, through one of the few open slits that looked out over the streets far below. ¡°Are we really going to do this?¡± she asked. ¡°Right before this final push?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no other time to have this kind of talk,¡± I replied. I took a step forward. Dima shifted back, keeping distance between us. I felt a little bit of my heart splinter. ¡°We don¡¯t know how our escape is going to go tomorrow. We might never get the chance to have this conversation. To get closure.¡±


    ¡°¡®We?¡¯¡± Dima replied quietly. ¡°There isn¡¯t a ¡®we¡¯ right now, Darrin. It ended all those years ago.¡±


    ¡°Then why does this conversation hurt you, too?¡± I asked. ¡°If you don¡¯t care, why do I see the same pain in your eyes?¡±


    Dima met my eyes. Yes, I saw a kindred ache there. The same longing, buried deep for years. But I knew her well enough to see it there.


    ¡°You can never let the past lie, can you, Darry?¡± she asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you loved about me, wasn¡¯t it?¡± I pushed, leaning closer. This time, she didn¡¯t edge away. ¡°That I didn¡¯t let things go. I unearthed things that shouldn¡¯t have been buried.¡±


    Dima shifted on her feet. Silence stretched between us for a time, the hustle and bustle of mages around us simmering in the background. For now, it was just me and her.


    ¡°Do you remember the first time we worked together in the High Hall?¡± she asked instead. ¡°When one of our ascending partners was falsely accused of stealing accolades?¡±


    I huffed. ¡°How could I forget? It¡¯s what started everything I did after. If a highblood could bully a mage into giving up his accolades, then there was no justice in the world.¡±


    Dima lifted a fork from the food, giving it a testing bite. From how she squinted and the subtle changes on her face, I knew she wasn¡¯t yet satisfied with her craft.


    ¡°That¡¯s when things changed for the first time, wasn¡¯t it?¡± she said, her eyes going distant. ¡°We¡¯d let ourselves be blind to everything for so long. But after that court case, it was too obvious.¡±


    I swallowed. The mage we¡¯d tried to help, an unblooded man named Qandra, had nearly his entire wealth of accolades stolen from him under the weight of the High Hall¡¯s ¡°justice.¡± I was young and inexperienced in the games of highborns. We failed to help the poor man. I did my best not to think of what became of him after.


    ¡°Though we got better after our initial failures,¡± I said, trying to buoy the mood. ¡°Bandun, Versha, Kail, Sara¡­ They managed to put up a fight against the powers that tried to put them down. And it wasn¡¯t just us who did it. People learned to fight for themselves. That was the most important step.¡±


    Dima paused in her preparations, looking up at me. What I saw on her face made me recoil slightly. The pain there was a knife to my chest.


    ¡°I loved this about you,¡± she whispered. ¡°Your drive to help people. Unwilling to bend against injustice. It¡¯s what makes you you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± I said stupidly, wanting to add something but feeling wrongfooted. Why was it easier to get into verbal spars with highbloods than actually talk to this woman?


    Dima looked down at her food. I could have sworn I saw a teardrop escape her eye and fall into the prep dishes.


    ¡°If we make it out of this alive,¡± she said at last, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you why I left. You¡¯re right. You deserve to know. More than you can fathom. But not right now. I can¡¯t.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling a surge in my heart. That was good. Better than I¡¯d hoped for. If we could talk, maybe we could mend what was broken. I didn¡¯t know if we¡¯d ever reach that same level of closeness as before, but maybe¡­


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said in a hushed tone. ¡°I¡¯ll be there for you. You know that, right?¡±


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± she said quietly, ¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t be.¡±

 Chapter 89: To the Lake

    Toren Daen


    Each time my foot came down, pain lanced up my leg. I didn¡¯t let my discomfort show on my face, pushing away the sensation. I plodded along next to Sevren Denoir, using my emblem as an intermittent crutch to support myself.


    The ever-cloudy sky cast everything in a grim haze. The world was eerily silent this far up, no wind rushing through the sky. This zone felt dead, and not just from the corpses trailing hundreds of feet below us.


    The whole Unblooded Party, the Aensgar Exiles, and what remained of the Twinfrosts slowly edged along a rooftop, no sound coming from our movements. Darrin and Hraedel took the lead, while our many shields kept around the perimeter. There was a vibrant tension to every step we took, a collective fear lacing our thoughts.


    Darrin peered over the ledge as we reached it, scrutinizing the ground far below. Wordlessly, he gestured toward Jared and Jameson, who stood on standby for this exact reason.


    The two mages stepped forward in unison, ready to enact our plans.


    We couldn¡¯t risk traveling over the ground, so instead we used scaffolding in the sky. The two shields raised their hands, and I felt the mana in the air react. Slowly, a bridge began to form in front of them, a strange mix of metal and ice. It slowly layered over itself, arcing from our building to the nearest skyscraper.


    I was reminded uncomfortably of the last time I witnessed these two create a bridge and the desperate struggle that ensued as the entire group was pursued by a horde of undead. I¡¯d stayed behind, engaging my Phoenix Will to save Sevren Denoir from being crushed.


    I winced, noting the strange sensation of my basilisk blood. I didn¡¯t think I had truly manifested my Vritra heritage. No, what had happened was something a couple of steps to the side of that.


    The sense of my basilisk blood was unnerving. There was this hatred in my blood that clashed with my own senses and values, driving my emotions higher than I wanted. But it was closer to a force than the bare sentience the Will displayed.


    I had to keep a constant grasp on the Will in my core. It¡­ sensed, for lack of a better word, the basilisk blood in my veins. But Lady Dawn¡¯s Will wasn¡¯t nearly as out of control as the Vritra blood was, yet these two were like alkali metals and water. Utterly incompatible on a fundamental level.


    The bridge finally connected to the other skyscraper across from us, metal and ice spreading out in a grasping lattice as it anchored itself silently. Our group waited for one tense moment, fear and indecision pushing at our heels. Then, at Hraedel and Darrin¡¯s direction, we crossed over swiftly. I spared a glance downward at the streets below.


    As I¡¯d adapted to my telekinesis rune in this new world, one of the chief things I needed to conquer was my fear of heights. I didn¡¯t fear heights as some people did, but what I considered ¡®normal¡¯ was heavily recontextualized by my ability to strengthen my body and fall from a dozen feet in the air without consequences. As I trained in the Clarwood Forest, and indeed even in this zone, I gradually wore away the nervousness I¡¯d instinctually feel around a great ledge.


    Yet as I stared at the ground hundreds of feet beneath me, I realized there was another aspect of heights I hadn¡¯t desensitized myself to. Because when one was hundreds of feet in the air, it gave you a special perspective of the streets.


    Hundreds of undead milled about like ants, moving in a disjointed swirl of rotting limbs and broken bodies. There was a turbulent flow to how those things shifted, a strange domino effect of corpses tripping each other one after the other. I remembered a time in my previous life when hundreds of football fans stood in a cascading wave, creating a unique effect from afar.


    This was like a disjointed, broken version of that. A sea of grey churned down below, and I could almost imagine the scent of rotting flesh and hear the broken groans of the undead.


    I wasn¡¯t afraid of falling. Yet I felt so small in the face of this sky-borne perspective.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Sevren Denoir said, pulling on my shoulder. I had to pry my eyes away from the bodies down below, forcing myself to follow the path laid out for us. ¡°Eyes forward, Toren. Can¡¯t have you stalling.¡±


    A quick purview showed most of the group was similarly disturbed by the sight. Alandra stood near the forefront of the group, holding her strange fire map that indicated how close we were to the exit portal. And as we got closer, the density of bodies increased exponentially.


    As our group reached the next building, Darrin smashed a hole in the window. He peered in, turning both ways, then stepped in. The rest of us followed shortly.


    Darrin turned to Alandra, who let her spell extinguish in a flash.


    ¡°Dima, Jana, Bered, Numar, and Toren: I need all of you here. We need to sweep the floor for the undead.¡± Darrin gave Hraedel a glance. ¡°Anything to add?¡±


    Hraedel huffed. ¡°Don¡¯t let them know you¡¯re there, Ordin,¡± he said. ¡°And get back quick. We¡¯ll only have so much time.¡±


    I forced myself to pick up my pace, following after the small strike squad Darrin had gathered to eliminate any undead we found in our path. We moved forward quickly, darting through corridors and through office spaces. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stuck close to the strikers, muffling any noise they made as they cut down the small clusters of undead we came across. We couldn¡¯t afford to let a single sound escape, lest the monsters awaken and rush us.


    Bered swung his mace in an upward strike. The metal obliterated a lurching zombie¡¯s skull in a spray of viscera, painting the once-pristine floors red. I could hear the crack of bone and the squelch of flesh, yet none of those sounds left our perimeter. When they reached the edge of my sound barrier, they were shredded into nothingness.


    An instant later, Numar vaulted over his brother¡¯s shoulder, spearing an elite zombie through with his sword. It growled as it was impaled, grasping for his face. Yet Bered was a step behind, sending his mace to the side in an arc. Another rotting head was cratered by the steel.


    I raised a hand, concentrating a dozen fireballs around me. With a bare moment to aim, I brought my hand down, sending my spells forward like an officer ordering a cavalry charge. Searing orange streaks engulfed undead wherever they went, the dry undead bodies going up like kindling.


    An onslaught of deep fire approached me from the side, funneled by the slim hallway we found ourselves in. I thrust my hand to the side, the warmth of my emblem guiding me. A flare of white engulfed the oncoming fire, the pressure forcing it to the side. The spell smashed through a wall, searing the floor and making the structure creak.


    Promise lurched out of its sheath, zipping toward the few elites who had worked together to conjure that spell. It embedded itself in one of the zombies¡¯ chests, shearing right past an impromptu mana barrier. The undead dropped.


    Then the remaining creatures did something I didn¡¯t expect. They glared at me through purple pits, then turned and began to run.


    No! I thought, immediately understanding what would happen if they escaped. The zombies acted on some sort of area-wide radar that was activated by sound. But if these corpses escaped and made a ruckus around other undead¡­


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    I threw a burst of fireshot at the fleeing creatures as they ducked around a corner. The spray of solid fire punched through the concrete supports they¡¯d grasped at for cover, small bits of flame peppering their bodies. One of them went down, a coin-sized hole seared right into its forehead. The other, however, continued to try and escape.


    I gritted my teeth, then slammed my telekinesis down on the floor. I lurched forward, Oath whipping from my sheath. I stumbled as my foot hit the floor, the muscle buckling from the sudden pain. I ignored it, using telekinesis to yank Promise from the desiccated corpse it had impaled.


    Promise zipped forward once more, drawing a line across the elite¡¯s legs. The torso toppled forward as its legs were cut off, yet the undead was undeterred from what would have otherwise been a mortal wound. Its broken nails dug into the floor beneath us, attempting to drag itself forward.


    Oath severed its skull soon after as I exhaled. As the deformed head tumbled from decrepit shoulders, I allowed my own shoulders to slump.


    With every use of mana, my basilisk blood became harder to contain. It was like feeding an explosion with more kerosene, further fueling its effects. I didn¡¯t know how¨Cif ever¨CI could find a way to pacify the thing in my veins. But that was a problem I could only face once I left the Relictombs.


    I looked down. A fresh spot of red was seeping through my bandages, my wound aggravated by my recent scuffle. I hissed through clenched teeth as I used Oath for support, turning slowly toward where I¡¯d left Bered and Numar.


    My eyes widened in alarm. Another zombie¨Cone far in the opposite direction of where I¡¯d dashed¨Cwas rushing towards a stairwell. It was going to reach the edge of my sound barrier soon, and then there¡¯d be no way to stop it from making noise.


    I cycled through a dozen ways I could reach the corpse. I could propel myself forward with telekinesis and piston stamp, yet my mobility was hampered by my wounded leg. I quickly settled on a solution. I wouldn¡¯t be able to reach the zombie in time with my wounded leg, but¡­


    I cocked my arm back, gripping Promise¡¯s marred edge between several fingers. I lined up my sights, prepping my telekinesis emblem. I readied myself to throw the single-edged dagger, the red-layered blade hungry for another kill. I couldn¡¯t afford to be a hair off in my aim: either the head or the heart, with no in-between.


    Then something unexpected happened. A weapon flashed in the low electric light, cutting off the zombie¡¯s escape. Numar stood in its path, drawing his sword up to defend against a downward cut from a conjured icy blade.


    Bered stormed through a bare moment later as his brother held off the undead, a flash of dark, silver-streaked hair. His mace blow sent the undead tumbling back whence it came. It scrambled for purchase, ignoring the brutal cave-in around its chest. Numar was faster, maneuvering around his brother and bringing his sword down onto its face. Two brutal chops later, the undead stopped moving.


    I slowly lowered Promise. Numar looked up from his kill, a savage cast to his face. It slowly melted away as we locked eyes. He turned away, marching off with his brother.


    I worldlessly began to hobble after them, maintaining my wide-area sound bubble. I watched the two young teens plod forward in front of me. The twins had changed since the death of Alun. I suspected the man acted as a pillar of support to the two, even if they had regularly abused the poor man. To watch him be killed by what was once their own teammate had shaken something in them deeply.


    They didn¡¯t posture quite like before. Their masks had cracked, leaving only the necessity of survival. And in the wake of their last outward pillar of support, the two had turned to what was most familiar: each other.


    I found in them a grim reflection of my past relationship with Norgan. It was something I understood, and I think they saw that understanding in me, too.


    After the twins and I confirmed there were no other undead nearby, we began to return to the main group. Along the way, Jana and Dima met back up with us. Jana gave my leg a worried look, which I silently dismissed with a shake of my head. We had greater things to worry about than my wounds.


    When we reached Darrin, it was to see him pacing nervously in front of a wide window, the rest of the party milling uncomfortably behind him.


    ¡°Good to see you all in one piece,¡± he said, visibly relieved. ¡°Tell me you have good news,¡± he added.


    ¡°The undead are all cleared from our path,¡± I said, standing at the forefront of this group. ¡°But they¡¯re acting strangely. Outside our normal predictions.¡±


    The leader of the Unblooded Party gave the rest of our little strike force a cursory glance. He seemed to hold his breath.¡°What did they do?¡±


    ¡°They seemed to use tactics,¡± Bered said quietly, looking toward me quickly. ¡°They tried to lure Lord Daen away from a stray undead, allowing that particular one to escape his bubble.¡±


    ¡°Do you think there is a commander nearby?¡± Darrin asked. ¡°Giving them directions and goals?¡±


    Most of the attention returned to me. After all, I¡¯d been the one to fight the last commander. I was the expert, if there could be such a thing.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t one,¡± I said with certainty. When the commanders leveraged control over the undead legions, the ambient mana warped under their intent. I¡¯d gradually realized that the other mages I traveled with were unable to sense how the ambient mana reacted to intent quite like I could. ¡°The commander cast a strange spell to take control of the undead. I didn¡¯t sense the same effects here.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any theories as to what¡¯s happening, then?¡± Darrin asked.


    I paused for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I replied. ¡°It was only the elites we faced who acted erratic. Those always did act more deliberate, at least to my eyes.¡±


    ¡°Elites?¡± Darrin said, testing the word. ¡°I think I see what you mean.¡±


    ¡°The ones we faced,¡± Dima spoke up, ¡°Seemed to react to us with greater intelligence than before. Are you certain there was no commander, Daen?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied. ¡°Though I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s changed. Maybe they¡¯re simply learning. Truth be told, there¡¯s a lot we don¡¯t know about this zone still.¡±


    There was a brief lull in the conversation before Darrin spoke up again. ¡°Alright. We¡¯re most of the way to the lake now. But I¡¯ve got to warn you, it¡¯s quite the sight.¡±


    From all Darrin had spoken of this end-of-zone lake, I was cautiously worried about what we might face. He hadn¡¯t gotten too good of a look before he was unable to continue onward.


    Our group continued our cautious trek onward for a couple more hours. Each time we entered a new building, I would join a small strike team and eliminate any undead we found in our path. The elites we faced showed basic tactics and planning just as the ones before, yet they became predictable before long.


    As we moved from building to building, I got bare glimpses of the area beyond. I knew we were getting closer to the lake from the sudden lack of buildings after a certain point. But the other odd occurrence was in the drop-off of undead numbers.


    Where on approach they numbered easily in the thousands, the last few skyscrapers barely had any patrolling around. On the streets below, their numbers thinned. It was another oddity to add to the strange reactions of the elites. This shift in expected behavior, especially so close to the end of the road, made the hair on my arms stand on end. There was something eerily wrong about this.


    I trailed behind the shields as we neared the last window. I knew it would look directly out onto the lake Darrin had warned us of what felt like ages ago. The mages in front of me were gaping silently out, staring at something I couldn¡¯t yet see.


    I frowned, feeling that worry spike. I wordlessly jostled my way past Hraedel, who didn¡¯t even seem to notice my intrusion.


    And I immediately understood why.


    I stared out the window over the wide expanse, working my jaw. The still water of the lake was easily a mile in diameter, reaching far into the distance. It was ringed by hundreds of yawning steel buildings, skyscrapers competing to brush the clouds with their metal tips. Yet they were all overshadowed.


    For at the center of the lake was a looming spire atop a small island. It thrust into the sky like a spear, easily twice as tall as the largest building I¡¯d seen in this zone. All around me, the other mages glued their eyes to the monument of steel with slack jaws, awed at its majesty. It cast a long, dark shadow, as if there were a sun blazing down overhead. The island it rested upon seemed far too small to support such a colossal structure, like a single man holding up the weight of the world.


    ¡°How?¡± I heard someone whisper. I didn¡¯t know who, my mind having stuttered to a halt at witnessing the tower. ¡°If they could make something so grand, how did the asura ever destroy the ancient mages?¡±


    I vacantly wondered the same thing. If the djinn had such utter mastery of the mind, of the soul, that they could take what I saw before me from my memory, how did the Indrath Clan ever pose a threat to them?


    Because the central spire of the vast, mirror-like surface of the lake was familiar. Uncountable windows dotted the skyscraper in rows, going up in a steadily tapering sequence. Yet I didn¡¯t need to count to know that building had one hundred and two floors exactly. The design emphasized vertical lines, giving a sense of scale to all who watched from afar. A thin, needlelike spire topped the building like a cherry, one final push to the clouds.


    A perfect replica of the Empire State Building waited for me, entirely separate from its world of origin.

 Chapter 90: Ark

    Toren Daen


    Darrin was the first to break out of our collective reverie. He turned back to us, gesturing to the shoreline below. ¡°We gotta get down there soon,¡± he said.


    I shook myself out of my surprise. The Empire State Building was intimidating, but was it truly beyond anything I¡¯d seen here before? The ground below, however, drew more immediate attention.


    ¡°There are no corpses about,¡± I said quietly. Sure enough, only the dark gray of asphalt welcomed my eyes. Instead of a zombie-infested city, I felt I was looking down upon a ghost town.


    There was a palpable unease traveling through the group. We¡¯d grown used to watching out for hordes of undead down below. This zone seemed to take pleasure in planting expectations like a watching farmer, tending them and nurturing our perception. And when we thought we understood our place, our entire crop was ripped from the ground and tossed to the side.


    ¡°We¡¯ve planned for the potentiality of a horde waiting for us,¡± Darrin said. ¡°But we couldn¡¯t account for everything. This seems to work in our favor, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    The striker¡¯s words seemed to resonate with the group, instilling them with a measure of courage.


    ¡°So,¡± Jared said from the side, ¡°How are we going to get down?¡±


    Darrin exchanged a look with me. ¡°Have you ever heard of elevators?¡± he asked the group, a wide smile on his face.


    In short order, our group managed to find a set of elevators, primed and ready to take us to the ground floor.


    There was no elevator music on the way down. I had hated the music the last time it had scraped against my eardrums. But now the silence felt hollow; devoid of any sound or emotion whatsoever. I found myself tapping my foot against the metal floor, the claustrophobic mishmash of bodies ramping up my anxiety.


    When the doors finally opened, I was among the first to shove myself out. The other mages were suitably intrigued by the elevator, just as Darrin had been, but I needed to occupy my mind. I scanned the bottom floor, which revealed a wide-open lobby space. The ceiling was easily thirty feet above us, giving the lobby a sense of grand scale. Pristine marble floors and statuesque reception desks revealed this to be some sort of grand hotel if I hadn¡¯t been able to tell from the rooms above already.


    And the fact that the words ¡®Marriott¡¯ were plastered everywhere. That was kind of a dead giveaway.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Darrin said, stepping out in front and scanning the lobby. ¡°We need to get to the edge of the water, then Jared, Jameson, and Hraedel can start forming our raft.¡±


    A few people made nervous noises. Dima looked like she wanted to ask a question, but she visibly centered herself. There was something undecipherable in her eyes as she looked at the leader of the unblooded party.


    The group slowly moved toward the exit, eyes on every surface. I hobbled along in the center of the group, suppressing my limp the best I could as we made our way to the automatic doors.


    ¡°We were ready for a huge fight, too,¡± Alandra said with a bit of a chuckle. The sentry was hanging very close to Jared, who in turn kept wary eyes forward. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing we aren¡¯t getting swarmed. I don¡¯t think we could¡¯ve held off those undead hordes.¡±


    Alandra¡¯s words seemed to buoy the spirits of the group. Everyone was tense at the unexpected ease of our passing. And ascenders learned to never expect the Relictombs to hand them an easy escape.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let your guard down so easily,¡± Hraedel said with a grunt as he stepped out under the dreary sky. ¡°This zone has been nothing but hell. It¡¯s foolish to assume we¡¯ll be given any sort of reprieve. This is a trap of some sort.¡±


    The mood quickly dampened, dipping even lower than it was before.


    How am I able to read these people¡¯s emotions so well? I wondered absently. It wasn¡¯t just gaining a sense of their body language, emotions and such. It was as if I could taste their thoughts in the air. The pervading sense of doom tingled against my senses.


    ¡°The undead can still swarm us, true,¡± I spoke up, feeling the depression in the air as a physical force. Our meager band was unraveling at the seams before our escape even started. ¡°But we¡¯ve planned for this, yeah? Just keep your eyes on the prize. Only a little more to go.¡±


    My words seemed to reach some of the men and women around me, but not nearly enough. We moved in covert silence after that, shuffling out onto the waterfront. The sand crunched under my boots, the moisture inside a strange contrast to the last time I¡¯d trekked through the sand. The desert zone had been dry and extremely hot, yet here it was slightly cool with the scent of freshwater in the air.


    I looked up at the Empire State Building, standing tall in the center of the lake. The testament of steel was a menacing final goal. Alandra¡¯s little sentry spell did point toward that island colossus, yet said nothing of which floor we¡¯d need to reach to actually exit. Would we have to scour all one hundred and two floors?


    My attention was drawn from the scene as Hraedel stepped forward. A wand was clutched tightly in his hands, and I felt the mana react as he began to focus on his spellforms. Jared stepped forward text, gently brushing Alandra¡¯s hand from his shoulder. Jameson, the quiet shield who had always solemnly stood by Hraedel, was last to stand in position.


    As one, the three mages raised their weapons: a wand, a large shield, and a simple staff. Together, the mana fluctuated at their call. Slowly, ice began to spread out from the still water, creating slight ripples in the mirror-like surface.


    I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck. I turned about, expecting now to be the time when the shoe dropped. We were exposed on the beach of the lake, forced to wait for these mages to complete their spells. There was no better time for us to be attacked.


    Jana shifted nearby, the only other shield on standby. Sevren rested his hand on his dagger, feeling the same sense of wariness. Darrin watched the slowly growing ice floe with a stony expression, as if glaring at it would make it grow faster.


    Yet the seconds ticked by without interruption. Small waves coursed out from the center of the block of vaguely oval-shaped frozen water as it displaced the lake, casting strange distorted reflections of all the discomforted mages by the edge.


    I licked my lips, my hand feathering across Oath¡¯s hilt. Something had to happen now. Yet I had to be missing something. The undead wouldn¡¯t simply let us escape, would they?


    As the ice raft slowly extended its bulk deeper into the water, Jared¡¯s touch on the construct slowly began to form. Thick metal sheets slowly slipped into place along the sides, reinforcing the edges from any potential assault. The metal spread like water flowing over the side of a bowl, slowly encompassing every side.


    ¡°Something is wrong about this,¡± Sevren whispered at my side. It was too quiet for anybody else to hear but me. I suspected he knew that. ¡°The Relictombs won¡¯t just let us go. We¡¯re missing something. Something crucial.¡± sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°We can¡¯t account for every flaw in a plan,¡± I said quietly, parroting something Karsien had once said. Granted, the advice felt a little stale, considering what had gone wrong in our assault on the Joans¡¯ distillery. ¡°We¡¯ll take it as it comes. React as we need to.¡±


    It was the only advice I had to give. Very rarely had my designs ever gone well in this new world. First, my plans to slowly grow in strength were disrupted by the Joans. Then the Rat had stolen me into his crew. After that, my assault on the distillery had gone horribly awry.


    I¡¯d been living on the seat of my pants for the past few months already. This wasn¡¯t much different. Part of me wondered if there was some sort of life lesson I should take from this. I could imagine Hofal drawing on his pipe, a contemplative look on his face.


    ¡°Buildings are never made exactly in the architect¡¯s image,¡± he¡¯d say. ¡°There are always places where planning breaks down. A mudslide at the construction site might ruin a foundation. Rain on an unfortunate day can wipe away all the paintwork of a week prior.¡±


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    Thinking of the burly shield back in Fiachra settled my resolve, allowing me to believe my own words. Sevren, however, clearly wasn¡¯t nearly as soothed by my reassurances.


    I knew from discussions that the ice I looked at wasn¡¯t just frozen water. It was extremely dense: in fact, its mass was nearly too concentrated to float on water. Hraedel and Jameson had worked to keep the central, core part of our little buoy far more concentrated than the outer layers. Such precise spellwork strained the limits of their runes, costing them precious mana and time.


    Yet the completed product looked like something out of the Arctic. If it weren¡¯t for the metal rimming, I would have considered it a natural sheet of ice in my previous world.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Hraedel said, heaving for breath slightly. His hands twitched on his wand, clearly wrung from exhaustion. ¡°That should do it. We need to leave. Now.¡±


    The group shuffled onto the makeshift raft, the movement making it shift slightly. It was at least thirty feet from tip to tip: more than large enough for our group. The moment we were all on the ice, however, was when the first sign of change came.


    I heard it before I saw anything. The sound of shattering stones erupted from all around us, malformed hands thrusting their way through solid concrete in an uncountable number. I cursed, using my telekinesis to pull Oath and Promise from their sheaths. Simultaneously, I prepared a dozen fireballs around me, each primed to strike anything that got too close.


    As undead dragged themselves from their street prisons, the mages around me were quick to react. Our three large-area shields¨CJana, Jared, and Jameson¨C threw up their defensive barriers, and prepared for an onslaught. Meanwhile, Hraedel, still noticeably weary from working on the raft spell, conjured half a dozen icy paddles.


    ¡°Take these!¡± he said with a note of anxiety, gesturing wildly with the conjured items, ¡°And row for all you¡¯re worth!¡±


    Yet before any of the others could grab a paddle, I intervened, latching onto each of the oars with my telekinetic emblem. Outlined in a shimmer of white, the icy oars positioned themselves on either side of our raft.


    ¡°I¡¯ll handle this!¡± I said with gritted teeth, fighting against the strain of keeping so many spells active, ¡°You all take down those undead! And plant your feet!¡±


    Without another minute to spare, I directed each of the paddles to dip into the water, a perfectly synchronized movement beginning to propel us forward. The men and women around me lurched, unprepared for the sudden spur of movement.


    Then the first salvo came. The undead at the shoreline had finally arrayed themselves against us, a loose collection of corpses lobbing meager spells our way. Gyrating spheres of earth, bullets of wind, and tendrils of electricity all created a mishmashed storm of death as it sought to cover the lake in a tapestry of mana.


    Shields rose above our heads, made of interlocking layers of ice, metal, and earth. A shadow was cast over our little raft as our defenses blocked out the sky. Our three shields worked in tense tandem, angling their barrier so most of the projectiles would skitter off.


    Nothing happened for a heartbeat. Then two. Then three. And on the fourth erratic thundering in my chest, the shields took a deluge of attacks. From the sides, I watched as most of the spells plunked against the water harmlessly, except for spreading their own ripples. The lowest ranks of the undead had horrid aim with their spells.


    Yet some still struck against our protections. I heard it as dull, echoing thumps and cacophonous zaps. Our shields grit their teeth as the barrage persisted, but they gave no quarter. Our little raft moved toward the central island without further contest, skimming the new waves boldly.


    The undead¡¯s spells were weaker than the average mage¡¯s attack, yet in such overwhelming numbers they packed a hell of a punch.


    Once the barrage ended, there was still, taught silence. The mages aboard the little ice raft collectively held their breaths as the attacks ceased.


    ¡°That can¡¯t be everything,¡± a voice said shakily. ¡°There¡¯s no way they would let up¨C¡±


    I sensed the attack coming before anybody else, the familiar nature of the spell alerting my senses. My eyes widened in alarm, but it was approaching too fast. I opened my mouth. ¡°Incomi¨C¡±


    A huge storm of fire crashed into the water near our position. Tremors rocked our little vessel, the sprayback sending the entire ice floe crashing across the water like a skipped stone. Water sprayed everywhere as bodies tumbled, mages losing their balance at the explosion.


    Wounded as my leg was, I was unable to maintain solid footing on the metal floor beneath me. I was thrown into the air as the floe churned, the disruption breaking my hold on the oars pushing us forward. I slammed back into the ice with a grunt, but grabbed Promise which hovered nearby. I stabbed it into the ¡®hull,¡¯ grasping onto the dark leather hilt for purchase.


    Not everyone around me was so lucky. Alandra was nearly flung from the raft, but Jared¡¯s meaty hand grabbed her own, hauling her from the water. Sevren had anchored himself similarly to me, holding onto the thin metallic wire that connected to his dagger. Most of the other mages were in tangles of limbs around us, yelling and crying for reprieve.


    But I could see with perfect clarity as Darrin was launched into the water like a spring, trying desperately to reorient in the air.


    He hit the water with a crash, throwing another spray of water onto our vessel.


    He¡¯ll be fine, I thought absently. He¡¯s one of the strongest mages I know. But we need to get back up. Reorganize our defense. If we don¡¯t, those attacks will come again, and¨C


    My eyes trailed upward, looking back at the shoreline. I felt my words catch in my throat, the sight there something that would stay with me to the end of my days.


    Thousands of undead lined the beach. Uncountable violet eyes gazed eerily toward our little raft, the sole attention of an entire army¡¯s worth of monsters focused solely on our little group. At their head, near where we had launched ourselves from the sand, were five large, monstrous amalgamations of flesh. Five commander undead stood at the head of an army, glaring out at our little raft.


    No, I realized, feeling the weight of the Intent in the air. It was a choking, viscous force. In such absurd numbers, the collective weight of their will suffused the ambient mana like a piercing blanket. They aren¡¯t focused on our group.


    Their eyes, each and every one of them, were focused on me alone.


    Fuck, fuck fuck, I thought, my heart thundering in my chest. Darrin might make his way back to the surface eventually, but we had no time to wait. With my unique advantages, I had no doubt I¡¯d be faster underwater.


    I wrenched Promise free from the raft, pushing myself to my feet. I ignored the sharp pain in my leg, focusing on the necessity of getting the group back together. Oath and Promise sheathed themselves on my waist as I prepared. I spared the mages around us a glance. Only Sevren was stable enough to meet my eyes.


    I took a deep breath, then I slammed a mindfire stamp into the ground, propelling myself into the water in front of me.


    I was shocked by how utterly cold the liquid was. It suffused my entire being, drenching me with a feeling that seemed to reach even my mana core. Yet I only remained surprised by the temperature for a moment.


    I could sense Darrin¡¯s mana signature far deeper in the lake.


    Too deep.


    I reached outward with my telekinesis, pulling on the water in front of me. Simultaneously, I pushed with full force against the water behind me.


    I shot forward like a rocket, blurring through the water almost as fast as I did in the air. I felt a brief moment of surprise at the effectiveness of this improvised swimming method, the water streaming off my glowing telekinetic shroud in a haze. I slowly felt myself heat up as I seared through the water.


    I followed Darrin¡¯s errant mana signature, but something about it was wrong. It was sinking fast. Far, far too fast. If the leader of the Unblooded Party were safe, he¡¯d be swimming up, not venturing deeper into the depths.


    I didn¡¯t have time to contemplate the implications. As fast as Darrin was sinking, I was faster. I felt the burning in my lungs as I went deeper and deeper, darkness slowly overtaking my vision as the light above became distorted by hundreds of feet of water.


    I neared Darrin¡¯s mana signature. It was getting weaker by the second, tapering off as his oxygen presumably ran out. The deepness around me was all-encompassing, and I had difficulty seeing a yard in front of my face. My eyes scanned the water, the mana reinforcing them trying to search for the slightest contrast in the blackness. I was so close, and the light emitted by my telekinetic shroud gave me the barest of visibility.


    But I heard it before I saw it. Sound travels strangely in water, muting and dampening noise in a familiar way. Yet sound still travels through liquid, carrying its messages to waiting ears.


    And the slitheriing displacement of something massive brushed against my eardrums. I saw a faint shadow in the distance, pressing against my light for the briefest of moments before retreating. The barest reflection of dead scale revealed itself before my eyes before retreating.


    No light reached me at this depth. It was pure and utter blackness; the kind you saw in the darkest of nights. I¡¯d often heard the sea compared to the sky, yet there were no glimmering stars to light my way or a moon to see by.


    But I could see something. The waves of a being moving jostled my body to the side, causing me to stall in the water. The pressure at this depth was notably high, yet my telekinetic shroud held against even this.


    But as the source of the movement revealed itself, I felt my telekinetic shroud was woefully inadequate. Eyes as large as my torso peered at me from the depths, slitted pupils blinking with intelligence. Their purple glow illuminated a massive, serpentine skull, rife with decaying flesh and sloughing scales. Around me, I could see the aftereffects of the colossal snake¡¯s body coiling against the water.


    And at the forefront of it all was Darrin Ordin, his leg trapped in the jaws of this mighty beast.

 Chapter 91: To Break the Water

    Toren Daen


    I felt a deep flash of terror as I looked down at the beast. In my previous world, the largest creature to ever exist had been the blue whale. In the hundreds of millions of years of evolution Earth gave the depths of the oceans, the blue whale outclassed everything to come before it. At one hundred feet in length, it dwarfed even the mightiest of dinosaurs. The water afforded creatures sizes impossible on land.


    And yet as I stared into the primal violet eyes of the serpent in front of me, I thought the blue whale must have been quite small. My sight was limited by the deep darkness around me, yet I could tell the serpent¡¯s head must have been at least thirty feet long.


    My heart thundered in my chest as I locked eyes with the thing. It paused, inspecting me with a predator¡¯s intelligence.


    And for the first time in an age, I felt like prey. My confrontation with Mardeth was the closest thing I could compare this to, but even he treated me like an opponent to beat. This creature¡­ It simply saw another morsel of food.


    Darrin struggled mutely against the creature¡¯s face, but his movements were slowing. The serpent¡¯s jaws had closed around his leg, and the scent of blood wafted around my nose. It was holding onto him like a cat playing with its catch, watching their prey struggle futilely against their captivity.


    Darrin would drown before long.


    I broke myself out of my frozen terror, thawing my fear with an application of magic. I needed to get him out of there. I was Darrin¡¯s only chance.


    I shoved on the water behind me, conscious of the limited air I had in my lungs. I surged forward like a bullet, squinting my eyes against the pressure. My telekinetic shroud flared at the sudden increase in pressure, but I ignored it.


    I landed feet-first on the serpent¡¯s upper lip. My feet sank into the monster¡¯s flesh with a strange squelch, rot and refuse bursting around my shoes as necrotic flesh gave way under my boots. Yet I focused on the leader of the Unblooded Party in front of me. He made the barest of movements acknowledging my presence. His eyes were glassy, his struggling growing weak.


    I clenched my fist, focusing on one of my tried and true template spells. The water buzzed around my hand strangely as sound mana built around my clenched fingers. After a few moments, I brought my strike down like a hammer on the nose of the monster.


    Noxious skin and muscle caved under my blow, the shockwaves vibrating out like a quake. The snake stirred slightly, but nothing more. It continued to drag us both downward, utterly uncaring of me. Undeterred, I brought my fist down again on its face. Again, again, again.


    Finally, I achieved the barest of movements. I hadn¡¯t truly hurt this titan. I¡¯d irritated it. Just like I¡¯d been able to sense from the uncountable corpses, this thing had an air of intent about it, too. The mouth began to open as my pesky attacks finally drew enough of its attention away from Darrin. The striker drifted out of its mouth limply, his mana signature simmering away into the depths.


    I latched onto his body desperately, throwing him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Without sparing the eldritch serpent another glance, I shoved on the water behind me with telekinesis.


    I surged upward, my lungs fighting for air. I couldn¡¯t put it off much longer. Darrin sat limply on my shoulders, unresponsive.


    And because of the deep darkness around me, I wasn¡¯t able to see the obstacle in front of me. I crashed into a wall of solid bone and flesh, the collision sending cracks through my telekinetic shroud and making me spiral through the water. I almost let go of Darrin¡¯s body, but the barest of instinct kept me clutching him tightly.


    Shadows writhed around me, and I realized that I¡¯d slammed into the massive bulk of the serpent¡¯s body. Its maze-like twists and turns blocked my ascent to the surface.


    I recognized the sound of it shifting through the water. It was a low, liquid rumbling that seemed to seep through the entire lake. I suppressed my fear, my eyes darting around for a way out. I could feel the slit eyes of the thing boring into my back.


    Settling on a plan of action in my mind, I surged forward like a fish in a slipstream, rocketing up at a slight angle. When the creature tried to move its bulk in front of me once more, instead of striking my skull against the shadow of flesh, I pulled on the creature¡¯s body instead of the water.


    I felt myself whoop with joy inside as this allowed me to pivot around the sea serpent, zipping past its confines. I ascended at a rapid pace, the light of the surface starting to reach me.


    Water was one of the elements I was at a disadvantage against. It doused fire and dampened sound, two of my greatest strengths. Though spellfire could burn underwater if enough power suffused it to outpace its extinguishing, this required control I didn¡¯t always have. Something I¡¯d picked up from the demon tree zone was that water created a barrier between flame and oxygen, both lowering its temperature and cutting off its source of fuel. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But if that fuel was mana instead of oxygen, such an imbalance wasn¡¯t as stark as it first seemed. Yet I was still horribly mismatched against water. So if I wanted to survive, I needed to get out.


    And then I made the mistake of glancing downward.


    The monstrous serpent was ascending with me, murder in its slitted violet eyes. Yet with the barest hint of light, I was able to truly see the serpent¡¯s size.


    Its head was three stories long, a cruel mimicry of a snake. The body slithered behind it slowly, undulating in waves. Thin, catfish-like tendrils floated from its face, and a long frilled ridge trailed from its head all along its body.


    It must be hundreds of feet from head to tail, I thought with numb horror. At its widest, it was as thick as a shipping container was long.


    How do you even fight something like that? I asked myself, momentarily forgetting the ache in my lungs. I had used a blue whale for a comparison earlier out of instinct, yet I knew now that was an insult to this monster.


    It could have swallowed half a dozen blue whales without a sweat. How did the djinn expect someone to fight this thing?


    I briefly entertained the idea of activating my Phoenix Will. I didn¡¯t see any other way to beat this monster, and I wondered if I could even kill it with the backing of Lady Dawn¡¯s power.


    An instantaneous inspection of my body dissuaded me from that idea. The basilisk in me was coiled just as the serpent I ran from, ready to strike at the barest inflection of my bond¡¯s Will. Very rarely had I ever felt such a burning surety about something, yet I knew the moment my Will and my Blood collided, it would be akin to an atom splitting within my core.


    The snake lunged for me, flaring massive jaws wide. Its rows upon rows of serrated teeth lined a jaw that seemed to swallow the world. I was never truly religious in my past life, yet I believed with all my being that the unending maw I gazed into was a portal to hell. Beyond the teeth, dozens of waiting, fleshy hands grasped and writhed in its throat, the digits seeking flesh.


    I darted upward in a frantic push, feeling the lack of air make my muscles stiff and my core ache. The basilisk within me seethed at the mockery of its kin. I didn¡¯t have the heart to try and force that sensation back down.


    But I was too slow. With Darrin on my shoulder, I couldn¡¯t move with my normal speed and agility. The serpent¡¯s jaws snapped shut, just barely missing my legs. Yet the force of that massive gateway crashed shut in a resounding boom, the shockwave sent me spinning through the water once more.


    I made a split-second decision as I tumbled down, recognizing the futility of trying to reach the surface with Darrin¡¯s body on my shoulder. I latched onto him with my telekinetic emblem, his mana resistances pitiful in his weakened state. With barely a note of resistance from his innate defenses, I¡¯d gained control of his body.


    I thrust my hands upward, sending Darrin up like an arrow. His body careened like a missile upward, and I knew he¡¯d reach the surface with his momentum. Part of me wondered if he¡¯d get the bends from how deep down he went.


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    I could only hope a mage¡¯s empowered body would fight against decompression sickness.


    I released Darrin¡¯s body just in time. I hastily pushed myself out of the way of the snake¡¯s form, easily many times wider than the thickest redwood tree. I sensed the barest of intents beneath me, using it to maneuver my next dodge.


    Yet as the body passed by me, something erupted from its flesh. Like a macabre chrysalis, hands thrust from the serpent¡¯s sloughing flesh, grasping with decaying fingers.


    I felt a sense of deja vu, remembering how the commander undead had manifested the spells of the other undead they¡¯d absorbed.


    I tried to lurch forward once more, but a concentrated pulse of gravity sent me spinning to the side. I wasn¡¯t practiced with maneuvering underwater, and each jostling movement made me overcorrect to compensate.


    Waves of telekinetic pushes met the next barrage of spells, shattering them as they moved through the water. A splinter of ice cracked against my telekinetic shroud, but the damage slowly sealed over.


    But the spells had served their purpose. I realized it a moment too late as I looked around, noticing how the unending circling of the serpent had changed.


    I was surrounded on all sides by walls of rot, the colossal snake having encompassed me from every angle.


    The serpent finished its knot, tightening its body in a constricting motion. I let out a breath of air as the flesh engulfed me fully, the sensation as if the atmosphere itself rejected my desire to breathe. I watched the last bubbles of air leave my lungs, panic suffusing my bones.


    This pressing force wasn¡¯t like a constrictor, where the combined pressure of a hundred psi slowly forced air from their prey¡¯s lungs.


    No, this was worse. The flesh around me was mushy and soft from the time it had spent rotting underwater. Instead of holding me firm, I was subsumed into the snake¡¯s body as it squeezed. My lungs burned as the pressure mounted. My telekinetic shroud cracked, crystalline lattices my only source of light. But my vision was darkening at the edges, my need for air finally unable to be ignored.


    I gasped instinctually, desperate for air. Yet instead of oxygen, or even water, I took in putrid rot. The taste suffused my mouth, the stench of decay invading my nostrils and scouring my throat. I began to suffocate, not just from the pressure but from the invading blight.


    I thrashed, lashing out with as many spells as I could force. Fire sparked around me, and waves of sound resonated through the monster¡¯s body. Chunks of flesh were obliterated by my ripping telekinetic force, yet more putrescence rushed in to fill the gap like a dam was broken. And in turn, grasping hands manifested from nowhere, ripping and tearing at my body. I felt their cold fingertips grazing my skin.


    My struggles began to weaken as my lungs filled with dead flesh, my mana core fighting in vain to free me. My vision began to truly shadow; my will weakened by constant fighting.


    I¡¯m going to die, I thought with absolute certainty. I¡¯m going to drown in rot and pus, another body added to the horde.


    Yet something bubbled up from my core. Something familiar surged to aid me, refusing to give up on me.


    Lady Dawn.


    I felt my Phoenix Will spread from my core, suffusing me with familiar yet unknown knowledge. The chain on my arm glowed a deep crimson, fighting against the blackness around me. The basilisk within roared in challenge. Despite our differences; despite the lingering anger I still felt for the phoenix, she refused to let me die here.


    They¡¯re going to tear me apart, I thought fearfully, my vision suddenly sharpening once more. The injection of power bolstered my ability to use mana to strengthen myself, fighting off the effects of suffocation. These two powers inside of me!


    ¡°You shall be rent apart nonetheless!¡± Lady Dawn¡¯s voice slammed against my mind. ¡°You cannot stay here! Move, Toren Daen! Escape this, and you may yet live!¡±


    I pushed outward with an unfocused telekinetic wave. Where before flesh leaked back in to fill any gaps, now the force I was afforded kept it back like a dam holding back a river.


    Not wasting any time, I tore at the flesh above me with frantic telekinetic rips. Not even waiting for a passage to be made, I blasted through the flesh, emerging like some sort of broken butterfly. The water seared against my skin as I ascended at speed.


    But the battle within had already begun. The clash of these two powers made my mana lock up, causing me to stall. A searing pain scraped against my nerves, and I could swear I felt my body¡¯s slow descent towards ruin.


    Sparks of deep black fire puffed into existence. Distantly, I could feel the decay-attribute mana manifesting around me, breaking down even the water. A drop of awe leaked through my horror. Decay mana wasn¡¯t just rot and plague. It wasn¡¯t a fire that scoured everything to ash.


    No. No, the decay mana arts of the Vritra clan were the weathering wind that broke the mountain. They were the crashing sea that smoothed over the earth, filing down even the sharpest of edges. This was the effects of time: the ever-turning wheel of cause and effect. Where the Will inside me created and preserved, there needed to be a force of ruination. My Blood itself served that opposite but needed end.


    Yet when my skin touched the soulfire, it burned me, too, scouring away the very flesh that wrought it.


    My own mana burned me.


    The pain came a moment later as the small motes of black fire ate into my flesh. I screamed soundlessly, feeling them torch my mana channels.


    But the serpent was unwilling to relinquish its prey. It lunged at me again, and I flailed my arm at it wildly. A torrent of soulfire burst from my palm, eating away at the flesh around my fingers even as it reached for the undead snake. My hand fell limply as my tendons and muscles were exposed to the water.


    The serpent swam straight through the Vritra-tinged mana, motes of soulfire clinging to its skin and eating away at its flesh. Grim white bone shone underneath as the decay mana scoured away the putrid rot with its own weathering. But not fast enough. The snake headbutted my body, and I lurched even further upward as my body cracked.


    Blood streamed from me as I floated up. Lady Dawn battled the basilisk in my blood, trying to keep it at bay. Yet this tempest of power wasn¡¯t something that was separate from me. It was me, and every clash between my Will and my Blood only served to break me further.


    Soulfire seared along my mana channels, scouring away my flesh. Spots of black fire sparked around me, the chains on my arm flaring and retreating in time with my rapid heartbeat. The strength in my bones which I had grown so accustomed to began to dwindle, the paths the mana knew to take no longer present.


    ¡°Move, Toren Daen! Pull yourself to the surface! You must!¡±


    I groaned, knowing half my bones must have been broken by that single attack from the monster. Yet soulfire clung to my ribs, healing them and mending their structure as it weathered me away in other places.


    Feeling panicked, I pulled at the water. I lurched forward, my face breaching the surface. I coughed out rotten bile, gasping for air. My body constantly broke itself down and healed again in near equal measure, yet I was slowly hurting more and more. My own soulfire scoured away my body and healed any wounds not made by the black flames themselves.


    Then something wrapped around my foot, dragging me back underwater. I whirled, lashing out in a rabid movement. Plasma seared from my palm, severing a long tendril of grey goo that had latched onto my leg. Even in a lake, my spells burned hot enough to fight against the water. I turned, about to try and surface again, when my instincts screamed at me to move.


    A hastily erected barrier of soulfire spared me the worst of the attack. A torrent of rot streamed through the water, erupting from the giant serpent¡¯s maw. Yet I had no idea how to work with soulfire; no experience in its function. Everything I did with it was on pure survival instinct, a desperate bid to spare my own life.


    The same trick didn¡¯t work twice. The serpent plowed through the attack again, then whipped its body to the side. My body crunched from the glancing impact as it streamed dark blood, trailing deeper down into the depths. The serpent roared in triumph, perhaps sensing as my soulfire ate away at my body.


    I drifted listlessly, groaning in agony as my own body attacked itself. I felt the minutes tick by as I slowly died. Absently, I saw my own heartfire as my vision wavered. Where before it had been a roaring red, now it was flecked with black specks. My lifeforce seemed to dwindle as my own body cannibalized itself.


    ¡°Do not let yourself be taken, Toren,¡± Lady Dawn said again, trying and failing to hold back the tide breaking my body. The phoenix, even as a shade, was more powerful than the basilisk in my blood. Yet it was me. I was experiencing the magical equivalent of an autoimmune disorder. ¡°I cannot lose another son.¡±


    My bond, even during our closest moments, did her best to shield her thoughts from me. Very rarely did I feel them unfiltered.


    Yet this time I did. A stream of worry, fear, and hope for me cascaded over our bond. Lady Dawn wasn¡¯t just worried for herself. She worried for me. For Toren Daen, and what he could be in the future. She feared losing me and the inevitable heartbreak that would follow.


    My body is broken, I thought absently, feeling my lack of oxygen once more.


    ¡°Your soul is not,¡± she whispered, even as the snake rose toward me. It slithered slowly through the water, its impending mass taking its time to reach me. Like a predator that had won. ¡°Please, my child. One last push.¡±


    One last push, I thought, my mind hazy. My body was weak, the scouring decay-attribute mana searing away my mana channels. Instead, I had to rely on my telekinetic emblem.


    One last push.


    I gathered all the mana I could: a paltry measure compared to my normal strength. And as the serpent neared, I flared my emblem. Instead of pushing off the water, I used the serpent¡¯s colossal skull as a springboard.


    Even as my body breached the surface of the water, I felt my consciousness recede. The pain encompassed me, drawing me into its embrace.


    My body fell back to the ice floe with a wet crunch, and everything went black.

 Chapter 92: Day of the Dead

    Darrin Ordin


    I coughed as I slowly came back to consciousness. Water streamed from my lungs as I hacked, each jarring movement sending pain through my body.


    ¡°Stay still, damnit!¡± a familiar voice said, though I was having trouble focusing. ¡°You¡¯ve put on weight, Darry! Just don¡¯t move and I¡¯ll get you back! You won¡¯t bleed out here!¡±


    I was being pulled through the water in movements. Someone was hauling my body by my collar, and they weren¡¯t being gentle. Blood trailed through the water in my wake, what was left of my leg seeping crimson.


    I coughed up more water, making my rescuer curse.


    My mind slowly caught up with what had happened. Being thrown into the lake. I¡¯d begun to swim up immediately, but something had latched onto me and pulled me down. Something huge.


    The snake was still underwater somewhere. How had I even escaped?! It was easily the largest thing I had ever seen. I¡¯d expected something to lurk beneath the water, but that was absurd. The mangled, rotting flesh had made it seem like something out of a nightmare.


    But I¡¯d seen something before I¡¯d lost consciousness, hadn¡¯t I? A streak in the water as I struggled in vain to free myself? S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Toren is down there, I thought. I shifted slightly, feeling my nerves rise in worry. Fighting that demon.


    ¡°Stop struggling!¡± that familiar voice said from behind me.


    ¡°Dima?¡± I said numbly.


    ¡°Can you move, Darry?¡± my old lover asked. ¡°Never mind about that. We just got to get you to the raft.¡±


    I finally took the time to look past my leg.


    And I immediately paled.


    Arrayed in the distance, thousands of undead waited near the waterline. Their eyes glowed a deep purple, shifting and flaring like countless fireflies. And at their forefront were horrid, mutated conglomerations of rotting bone and bodies. Five commanders held out their hands, directing the myriad corpses around them. I recognized them from Toren¡¯s description: they were mishmashes of limbs, as if a child had jammed a dozen parts of their dismembered dolls into a massive lump of clay in a vague, humanoid shape. Atop their grotesque torsos were single, blemishless skulls.


    ¡°What are they doing?¡± I asked, horrified.


    Dima didn¡¯t answer. Instead, she hauled me up as she reached the raft, dragging my limp form onto the safe haven. I cried out in pain as my leg¨Ca mess of pulped flesh and shards of bone¨Cjostled against the rim.


    Dima knelt over me, holding a thick wad of bandages. All around us, mages scrambled about, preparing spells and flaring their mana. Shouts of alarm and combat rang in my ears, but I was having trouble focusing. The blood loss was making my thoughts hazy. ¡°I¡­ I need to get up. They need me. To lead.¡±


    ¡°Will you stay still for once in your life?¡± Dima cried, fumbling with bandages as she leaned over me. Her body blocked my view of the undead, yet I could feel their ire from a quarter of a mile away. ¡°Always standing up to help and lead and fight! Can you do nothing but give all of yourself away?!


    ¡±


    Wet liquid hit my chest as she haphazardly stretched out a tourniquet. My ex-lover was weeping quietly as she tended to my body, the crash of spellfire and screams of men fighting echoing overhead. I groaned as Dima snapped the tight bondage around my leg, trying to staunch the bleeding. ¡°You¡¯re going to stay down here, Darrin, and we¡¯ll make it out of this. Okay?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said weakly, pushing against the metal ground beneath me. ¡°I need to¨C¡±


    ¡°You need to fucking stop!¡± Dima yelled. ¡°Move too much more and you¡¯ll bleed out. Can¡¯t you see that?¡±


    The haze started to clear from my thoughts. Yes, I could see it. But I was the leader of this group. Without me, they¡¯d be overwhelmed.


    ¡°You and your savior complex,¡± Dima hissed. My body failed to respond.


    The stubborn caster finally stood, drawing her wand from her pocket. She turned, facing off against something far off. Yet as she moved, it gave me a perfect view of what was happening.


    The undead had begun to form their own sailing vessels under the direction of their commanders. In groups of fives and tens, corpses floated on flimsy blocks of ice and thin bowls of metal. Dima, along with the other mages that could be spared from blocking stray spells from reaching the group, began taking potshots at the approaching undead. They aimed at the feet of the monsters, trying to take out their meager rafts.


    Most of these attacks hit, sinking dozens of vessels every second. And while these phantoms of the Relictombs could do many things unnatural, swimming was not one of them.


    For a second, I allowed myself to hope. We were dead in the water, true, but every attack that came our way was turned aside. If they just lasted long enough¨C


    But a few of the groups inevitably overwhelmed the spellfire barrage of the combined efforts of the Unblooded Party, Aensgar Exiles, and Twinfrost Party. Those that reached our wide raft scrambled up for purchase, causing my heart to thump in alarm.


    I shifted, trying to stand straight as a zombie approached. I still had most of my mana in my core, yet my body felt weaker than it ever had. Being nearly drowned had taken a lot out of me.


    Yet a blurring line decapitated one of the undead before it could reach me. Two more suffered a similar fate as Sevren Denoir blitzed forward, his strange weight-altering spellform allowing him to move in short, rhythmic bursts.


    As I struggled to stand, Dima was suddenly at my side. She wrapped an arm under my own, supporting my weight with a grunt.


    ¡°I can¡¯t make you sit still, can I?¡± she said, something wounded in her tone. I was taken aback by the outburst of emotion, not knowing how to respond.


    ¡°I need to help them,¡± I said simply. ¡°I¡¯m their leader.¡±


    ¡°Of course you are,¡± she said, her blonde hair covering her eyes.


    As Dima supported me, I threw weak punches with my opposite arm. Each blow was infused with my Martial Gale emblem, my limp strikes still sending out punches of wind against anything that got too close. Undead fell in droves, each of my attacks pinpoint-accurate even in my weary state. I¡¯d done this for too long; fought for too many years to let this break me.


    An undead¨Cone of the more intact variants¨Clunged at me from a poor angle. I quickly recognized what would happen, gritting my teeth and reinforcing my mana barrier.


    The thing drew fire-clad claws across my flank, the heat scorching my ribs. Dima and I tumbled, the disruption toppling our balance. Yet as I fell, I swiped my hand to the side. Wind blew apart the elite undead¡¯s skull, splattering Dima and me with bone and brain matter.


    I swayed, the burns on my ribs compounding with everything else that ached.


    ¡°You always preached about the benefits of shielding runes,¡± Dima said breathily. I¡¯d landed on her, unfortunately, yet she appeared unharmed. ¡°You have an annoying tendency to be right.¡±


    I pulled my lips back in a smile. ¡°It¡¯s one of my many charms.¡± She shoved me off of her, then helped me back to my feet.


    Dima rolled her eyes as we began to fight again, yet I took the brief lull to call out. ¡°Tri-layer circle formation!¡± I yelled, my voice hoarse. ¡°Now!¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The mages around us reacted as if electrified, quickly moving into a better defensive formation now that they had a simple direction. At the edges, Jared, Jameson, and Jana positioned themselves, ready to ward off anything that got too close. Sevren Denoir and the Frost Twins took positions near a shield, ready to lash out at anything nearby. And on the inside, I huddled with the rest of the group.


    Yet as the group finally came together, I realized we were still missing someone.


    Toren Daen.


    The moment that thought resounded through my head, something changed under the water. A tyrannical force pulsed outward, causing Dima to stumble. The ambient mana itself seemed to tremble under the strange power, and I felt sweat bead on my brow.


    I¡¯d met Retainers before; felt their aura and suffocating whirlwind of power. I¡¯d struggled to even stand in their presence, cowed just by their proximity. Yet the force that radiated from underneath the water wasn¡¯t the barely leashed power I remembered. No, this was something closer to an unhinged wildfire, the heat scorching even from afar.


    The sounds of battle around me quieted, even the undead pausing in their relentless assault. I the entire battlefield seemed to take a collective breath, the outflux of power pulsing against our nerves.


    The serpent is still down there, I remembered with mute horror. In the chaos of my blood loss and the urgency of the immediate fight, I¡¯d almost forgotten the horrid monster that lurked in the untold depths of the lake. Yet this wasn¡¯t like the serpent. This was something else.


    ¡°Toren Daen?¡± I said numbly.


    Then the presence shifted. A crack thundered through the ambient mana, like a trench suddenly forming in the crust of the earth. I barely had time to contemplate what that meant when the undead assault redoubled.


    And the first of the commanders reached our raft. When it set its massive leg upon the vessel, the entire thing tilted from the weight, making many of us stumble as water splashed. It immediately rushed toward our group with the force of a charging iron hyrax, barreling through all the nearby corpses.


    Jana¡¯s shield met it midway, yet she was forced forward as the hulking monstrosity continued to push forward. Hands thrust from the sides of its body as it rammed against the woman¡¯s tall tower shield, reaching around to try and tear off her face. She struggled to hold, already unbalanced by the loss of a hand.


    The Frost Twins met it midway, working in perfect tandem. Numar¡¯s sword cleaved three grasping limbs from the creature¡¯s flesh as it tried to tear at Jana. Bered¡¯s mace sank into its wide legs, a burst of lightning erupting from his face as it struck.


    The commander simply continued to try and shove itself into our formation, ignoring the two mages nipping at its heels.


    ¡°Aim for the heart!¡± I cried, feeling like my voice was a wrung towel. ¡°That¡¯s its weak point! There¡¯s an undead in there you need to kill!¡±


    Sevren Denoir was the first to heed my warning. One moment our formation was almost broken, Jana having been pushed too deep into the fold. The next, Sevren Denoir struck the monster with a perfectly executed dropkick, sending it skidding back. A shattering boom echoed outward, the commander¡¯s ribcage cratering inward as the monster nearly toppled. Lord Denoir exerted far more damage than he looked like he should have.


    I felt a reinvigorating force draw at my body, giving me a sense of strength. I looked to the side, noticing the last shield of the Aensgar Exiles. His name was Mralka, and he specialized in single-target support instead of wide-area defense like the others.


    His breathing was strained as he held his hands aloft, focusing on some sort of spellform. Looking down, I noticed streaks of pure mana wrapping my limbs, suffusing me with power. A few of the other mages around me sported the same bands, bolstering their defense. Furthermore, there was a strange fuzzing of the air around us that seemed to confuse the undead trying to assault us.


    ¡°Can¡¯t hold this for too long,¡± Mralka said wearily. ¡°But it¡¯ll make these monsters easier to fight!¡±


    Sevren Denoir blurred past the undead¡¯s arm as it lunged for him, wrapping his strange glinting wire around the limb. He skidded to a stop on the other side, twirling his dagger.


    A dozen limbs erupted from the commander¡¯s back, spells primed in their hands. Sevren blitzed to the side, his weight reduction spellform granting him supernatural speed.


    It must be a regalia, I thought absently as I continued to throw wind blasts. I couldn¡¯t assist nearly as well as I wanted to, effectively hampered by my wounded leg. Yet with my spell¡¯s power bolstered by Mralka¡¯s support spell, I was able to keep up with the tides of undead crowding around our little raft.


    The mages around us were forced to leave Sevren to his one-on-one showdown, the tide refocusing our attention. I kept one eye trained on his fight even as I pummeled enemy after enemy, quietly ready to try and help if the man ever made a mistake.


    Sevren jumped, simultaneously throwing his dagger at the monster. The thing seemed to expect this, the burning pits in its bleach-white skull flaring. It raised a giant hand, catching the dagger as it embedded itself into the commander¡¯s palm.


    The amalgam of bodies tugged, causing Sevren to lurch as he flew toward the monster¡¯s primed fist.


    Then the Denoir heir flicked his wrist, flexing the wire he held. His dagger severed the commander¡¯s meaty hand as a whole. He barely ducked under the flailing wrist, skidding to the side and wrapping his wire around its hulking torso.


    Another crash rumbled through the lake beneath us, causing the raft to shake. Sevren didn¡¯t let this stop him, jumping to the side as the commander grabbed a nearby corpse. At first, I thought the monster might try and throw the bodies at our formation, but that wasn¡¯t the case.


    Instead, the corpse it grabbed simply liquified, the parts running along its arms. Slowly, the commander¡¯s massive hand reformed.


    But not fast enough. In that time, Sevren had darted around the monster, wrapping it in his strange wire half a dozen times over. When it next tried to lift its foot, it strained against its bonds, toppling forward with a colossal crash.


    Sevren stood nearby, his dagger held in a clenched fist. He panted visibly, his white hair turned silver from sweat. He turned away from the struggling corpse, even as it hacked and fought against its bonds. The thin wire held up with miraculous strength, yet I knew it wouldn¡¯t keep forever.


    Sevren¡¯s entire body blurred forward. The metal wire he trailed snapped taught with the force of a hundred men.


    I didn¡¯t even see it cut. One moment the commander was bound like some sort of horrid prisoner, and the next it was in innumerable pieces.


    Alandra bathed the body in fire a minute later, unwilling to chance it recovering.


    The spirits of everyone present seemed to lift at that moment. One of the massive, hulking creatures was defeated without a single casualty. We were holding out against untold numbers with our teamwork and resolve. I even allowed myself a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could make it out of this.


    Then Sevren¡¯s eyes widened in alarm, staring at something behind me. Thundering footsteps crashed against steel, sending familiar tremors through the platform. I turned haphazardly with Dima¡¯s help, trying to muster an attack toward the next commander charging at us from behind.


    I threw a supercharged martial gale at the creature, a noticeable portion of my remaining mana going into the attack. Yet it seemed to sense the attack coming, shifting to the side ever-so-slightly.


    Instead of punching a hole into the creature¡¯s heart, it took out a sizable portion of its ribcage in a concussive burst. Yet still, it kept charging, bearing down on Jameson at our rear. He planted his feet, ready to tank the hit like Jana had.


    Then the commander did something nobody expected. It crouched, bending its knees and leaning forward.


    ¡°Merciful Vritra,¡± I whispered, my eyes blown wide as I immediately understood what was about to happen. Those tensed muscles weren¡¯t readying for a charge. They were for a leap.


    These things learned from experience.


    I watched, helpless, as a ton of mangled limbs and bone sculpted into a failed attempt at a body jumped into the air, arcing high.


    And then it began to fall.


    ¡°Scatter!¡± I yelled, trying to be heard over the sounds of battle. ¡°Before it crashes into us!¡±


    Some of the mages heard me, wisely abandoning our formation. Dima hauled me to the side, my wounded leg fighting all the while.


    But not enough heeded my warning. The colossal flesh amalgam hit what used to be the center of our formation like a comet, splintering metal and ice in a resounding boom. A wide crater opened as the entire ice floe dipped, water rushing over the surface before it bobbed back up, tossing us every which way.


    I looked toward the crater with a growing sense of despair. I felt the amplified strength Mralka¡¯s spell afforded me fade, the spellcaster no longer sustaining the effect. Mralka and Jameson¡¯s ruined corpses lay in a mess of viscera and pulped flesh beneath its feet, the two not fast enough to escape.


    ¡°You bastard!¡± I heard a man cry over the battlefield, rushing at the creature with a wild, broken look on his face. Hraedel, not even strengthened by mana, threw spell after spell against the creature. Each attack carved out a chunk of rotten flesh, yet none were aimed. ¡°You pit demon! I¡¯ll burn you away!¡±


    The thing made a casual backhand, and I feared I¡¯d see another red smear coat the battlefield. Yet Sevren Denoir blurred past, yanking Hraedel haphazardly out of the line of fire. The flesh colossus didn¡¯t seem to care that it had missed its prey.


    Its burning eyes focused on me, making my good leg shake with fear.


    ¡°Leader,¡± it croaked, the sound like grinding bone. ¡°Kill.¡±


    It lunged forward. I prepared to try and punch it, but I didn¡¯t have time. Someone threw me to the side, sending me crashing out of the way.


    I made eye contact with Dima, her pale blue eyes containing a flash of emotion. I¡¯m sorry, they seemed to say.


    I tumbled against the sharp metal crater, rolling a few feet. But the urgency of my situation compelled me to look, even against my deepest fears.


    I was able to watch as Dima was struck in the chest by the barreling monster, flying to the side like a broken doll.

 Chapter 93: To Leave a Lover

    Darrin Ordin


    Time slowed around me as I watched Dima¡¯s body crack to the side. She didn¡¯t even make a noise as she flew, unable to scream or cry out in horror. I felt I must have been dreaming; my former lover¡¯s body twisting at unnatural angles in the air.


    I watched with a sense of distant detachment. This can¡¯t be real, I thought, the clashing of steel, rocking of water, and cries of battle fading to nothingness around me. This is a nightmare. I¡¯ll wake up in a moment, safe in my estate. Yes, this is a dream.


    Dima¡¯s body tumbled across the metal plating beneath us, leaving a messy streak of crimson blood. She fell still, her face staring up at the sky.


    Everything seemed to condense back in on itself. A guttural cry tore itself from my throat as I dug my fingers into the metal around me. I wrenched myself forward, unable to feel the pain in my mangled leg as I hauled myself toward my lover.


    I finally made it to Dima, heaving for breath and feeling a frantic tugging in my gut. ¡°Dima,¡± I tried to say. My lips moved, but they failed to make any sound. ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay,¡± I lied, grasping onto her arm.


    Dima coughed weakly, not turning to look at me. There was a haze in her eyes that terrified me. Her back was twisted in a strange direction, making me feel nauseous inside.


    ¡°Darry?¡± she said, still staring at the sky.


    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I said, trying to hold back a sob. A puddle of blood was slowly forming around her body, but no matter where I looked, I couldn¡¯t find the source. ¡°We¡¯re going to get out of here. You¡¯re going to tell me about what went wrong, yeah?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t¨C I can¡¯t feel,¡± Dima forced out, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. Her breath stuttered.


    ¡°We can¨C¡±


    ¡°I need to,¡± Dima started, almost forcing the words out, ¡°Need to tell you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I asked, feeling lost. My eyes tracked to the slowly growing pool of blood under my former lover. Tears finally began to flow down my cheeks. I grit my teeth, cursing my weakness. I couldn¡¯t even stand.


    From the corner of my perception, I noticed the Frost twins, alongside Sevren Denoir, launching themselves at the flesh colossus. Dima and I were alone in puddles of our own blood, left to slowly wither away.


    Dima whispered something, blood streaming from her lips. It was the first sentence she¡¯d said that sounded clear and resolute. It seemed to echo over the battlefield, quelling every other sound.


    I felt my breath hitch as I processed the words. I froze, my thoughts spiraling out of control. What did she mean?


    ¡°We¡ª we have a daughter,¡± Dima repeated, forcing the words through bubbling blood.


    I wanted to shrivel up; curl into a ball and block out the light. Dima¡¯s words seemed to skip a beat in my head. I knew what each syllable meant individually. Knew the meaning they intended to convey once strung together. But the end result still didn¡¯t make sense.


    ¡°After we spoke,¡± Dima said, tears glistening through the red crimson around her, ¡°I¨C I found out after that. I was pregnant. But you¡¯d just told me you would give up everything to tend to me.¡±


    Dima coughed, something between a sob and a rattling death drum. Her blonde hair, once so luscious, was burned and torn at the edges. It soaked up the blood like a sponge.


    I reached my hands out, clutching at Dima¡¯s arm. It was limp in my grip. She didn¡¯t even seem to notice.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t do that to you,¡± she said weakly. ¡°You would give up the tombs. Give up fighting. I knew that¡­ if you knew, you¡¯d stop antagonizing all those highbloods. Stop helping people.¡±


    Dima¡¯s head finally lolled to the side, twisting like a doll¡¯s. I choked as I met her eyes. She didn¡¯t even seem to be aware I was there, just saying what was on her mind.


    ¡°So I,¡± Dima coughed again, making her body spasm. Something fleshy dribbled down the side of her mouth. ¡°I left. I couldn¡¯t make you sacrifice for me.¡±


    I pulled myself closer, feeling my shoulders sag as I nestled myself against Dima¡¯s broken body. She had always been warm. All the times I¡¯d taken her in my arms so many years ago rose to the forefront of my mind. I cradled her as she slowly bled out, her misty eyes still unfocused.


    I had always forced myself to stand tall. I was the leader of the Unblooded Party; the focus for all to rally around. I put myself between corrupt nobles and their weakened prey, standing as a defender of the weak.


    Yet I couldn¡¯t even save one lonely soul.


    I nestled my nose into the side of her neck, resisting the urge to weep further. ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡± I whispered. I was going to die here with Dima. It was a fitting end, but there was a daughter out there I¡¯d never get to meet. Never get to hold.


    ¡°Penny,¡± Dima said. She was limp in my arms, her breath choking rasps. ¡°Her name is Pen.¡±


    Sevren Denoir


    My hairavant wire snaked around the commander¡¯s arm, lashing itself there with the force of a tourniquet. I ran through a dozen different ideas for my next move: perhaps sliding through the monster¡¯s knees, and bringing the wire along in another path. If I weaved just right, I¡¯d be able to tie it up in a similar method to the last one.


    But this undead wasn¡¯t brainless like all the others. Even while Numar Frost swung his sword at the creature¡¯s foot, the commander was already twisting, flexing its arm in a way that forced my wire to cut.


    Numar¡¯s sword sank into the commander¡¯s meaty thigh. He looked triumphant for a moment, but then it was quickly awash with horror. Sticky hands erupted from the side, trying to drag the boy in.


    The arrogant brat was forced to slide backward, releasing his weapon in the process. A collage of spells simmered on the fingertips of the grasping fingers, aiming deadly force at the retreating runt.


    Bered flashed in from the side, priming his mace. It enlarged once; twice, three times, swelling with the force of mana. And when he swung it upward, it deflected the myriad shots fired at his brother with a resonant gong that rattled my teeth.


    But the way the undead twisted forced me to flex my wire too soon. The commander¡¯s arm fell to the floor with a crash as my metallic wire tightened, severing the limb whole.


    I rushed forward as more undead streamed toward their wounded leader. I focused on my regalia, Dictate of Mass, channeling mana through the spellform.


    When people watched me fight for a while, they generally assumed my runes lessened my weight, allowing me to achieve super speeds.


    I let them think that.


    My rune was far more deadly than simple weight reduction. In effect, I could change my apparent mass without increasing my size.


    Yet I still maintained the strength and power of my prime even when my mass was that of a feather. This allowed me to achieve hypersonic speeds if I timed my power correctly. I would turn down my mass, leap forward, and then suddenly increase it tenfold to deliver a punch that could shatter boulders.


    The tip of a bullwhip breached the sound barrier because of its tapering edge. A whip¡¯s mass decreased along its length, slowly thinning to just a few strands.


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    So when a person snaps their wrist and flicks a whip, momentum travels at a speed relative to the mass that carries it. But what happens when that mass decreases? That momentum can¡¯t just disappear. So, to compensate, the entire force speeds up instead.


    Using these principles, I was able to strike with the speed of sound with every blow, provided I measured my output correctly.


    I¡¯d honed this ability for a dozen years, training and filing my intent and strength to a razor point. I¡¯d gone through countless zones; fought innumerable beasts, and conquered more aether beasts than most ascenders ever would.


    Yet it all felt inadequate today. The listing minions grafted themselves to the commander, their bodies seeming to liquefy and travel up its arm. I watched in growing despair as the arm it had lost simply reformed itself from the provided mass.


    The twins were the first to charge back in. There was a wildfire in their eyes; the desperation of boys who knew they were going to die. Yet the two worked in perfect synchronization; covering for each other with spellfire and mace. They were a wild, reckless barrage of limbs and power, working in perfect tandem as their mental tethers guided them forward.


    I steeled myself, preparing to jump back into the fray. Mother had always chastised me; saying that my constant ascents would get me killed. Her nose would wrinkle and her eyes would burn as she offered faux comfort, but I knew that she simply wanted me to stop risking my life so I may prove an asset to her causes.


    It seemed I might have finally bitten off more than I could chew. Quickly surveying the battlefield, I noticed the other mages around us in similarly dire straights. Alandra¡¯s dress was torn and bloodied, yet she gritted her teeth as she stuck to the exhausted Jared¡¯s back. Jana was trying to keep as many undead from reaching the platform as she could manage, yet Hraedel simply knelt at the side, watching everything with an expression of despair.


    Just as I prepared to rush to the twins¡¯ aid, however, something soared into the air from the water, landing on the metal near me with a wet flop. I almost attacked it out of instinct, but the power radiating off the form made my hand inadvertently still.


    Toren Daen writhed on the metal ground. Sparks of familiar black fire flared all around him in little pops, eating away at anything and everything.


    He looked no better than the undead we were fighting. Blood soaked his clothes, the decay-attribute mana arcing around him carving out divots in his flesh.


    He pulled himself to his knees, looking up at the sky.


    And he roared. A beam of red-hot plasma erupted from his throat, a buzzing sound filling the air as it streaked higher. I skidded back from the force of the beam, covering my face with my hands as the wind buffeted my body.


    The torrent of strange magic slowly dissipated, allowing me to get a better view of the mage. A red chain burned like blood on his arms, and feather-stem runes glowed underneath his eyes.


    I¡¯d seen this form of Toren¡¯s once before, albeit briefly. His use of it had clearly taxed him, forcing the young mage to ask me for help in dispersing his mana. But something was different about him now.


    It was in his eyes. He had pupils no longer. Instead, a nimbus of solid fire roiled in their stead, as if his eyes were carved out and replaced with two suns.


    I felt my breath hitch as I stared, momentarily forgetting the battle around me. There was an alien, ineffable presence wafting from the young mage¡¯s body. I felt my spine tingle at the power in the air, those ancient eyes seeming to tear into my soul.


    I subconsciously clawed at my jacket, withdrawing my aether compass. I looked down at the device I¡¯d spent months crafting with the greatest of my abilities, not knowing what to expect.


    The entire thing glowed purple. The aether around us was palpable, pressing into us on all sides. My little golden compass cracked.


    ¡°Lesser,¡± Toren said. Except it wasn¡¯t Toren. Even as Toren¡¯s body slowly ate away at itself, I noticed the changes in the boy¡¯s posture. He stood up straight in a way that seemed regal. A poise and arrogance coated his every movement like molasses even as he decayed away in front of me. ¡°Come to me. Now!¡±


    And that voice. It wasn¡¯t a man¡¯s voice. It was that of a woman.


    I felt compelled by the authority in the voice, slowly loping toward Toren¡¯s broken body. Those eyes lingered on me, seeming to peer into my innermost thoughts.


    Why did I listen to this thing? I asked myself.


    I¡¯d felt Scythe Seris¡¯ aura before. She carried herself like a poised knife. Always drawn, yet always composed and infuriatingly relaxed. She held a power I thought to be absolute. Yet whatever was inside of Toren compelled me with even greater force than even that despicable Scythe.


    ¡°What are you?¡± I asked numbly, feeling my knees tremble. I¡¯d followed this young mage into these Relictombs, expecting to find something about the secrets of aether. Yet only now did I realize I had miscalculated.


    If this was what Toren had been hiding all along, how did I ever expect to escape this zone alive? I¡¯d thought I¡¯d seen it when I helped the young mage with his ¡®assimilation,¡¯ yet the breadth of power I witnessed then had barely scratched the surface.


    ¡°You will give me your dagger,¡± the thing possessing Toren said, burning eyes drilling into my hand.


    Those words¨Cthat demand¨Cfinally snapped me back into focus. How many times had I seethed under the orders of Seris Vritra as she molded my sister? How many times had Alacryan society chipped away at my hope and patience, where our Sovereign gods toyed with us like pawns?


    ¡°You¡¯re an asura,¡± I whispered, taking a step back. It was the only explanation. But I had taken orders from them for too long. ¡°I won¡¯t be pushed around by your ilk.¡±


    This was the same kind of being who would leisurely waste my sister¡¯s life in the meat grinder of war.


    ¡°You resist me further?¡± the voice said, the pressure emanating from Toren¡¯s body redoubling. I coughed, stumbling backward and falling on my rear. I felt like I was drowning, as surely as if I had thrown myself into the lake beside us. ¡°You would defy me?¡±


    I groaned.


    Then the pressure relented. The black fire around Toren continued to eat away at his body. Most of his arms had been stripped entirely of skin, revealing a patchwork of muscle, tendon, and bone underneath.


    ¡°Please,¡± the voice said instead. I looked up, feeling shell-shocked. ¡°Please, give it to me. He¡¯ll die if you don¡¯t.¡± Toren¡¯s body coughed, a wad of blood and flesh splashing on the ground in front of him. The thing¡¯s eyes dimmed as they looked at me. ¡°His natures clash, like fire and water. And your dagger is the key.¡±


    I felt confused, torn every which way by the strange events of these past few weeks.


    ¡°You want to know of aether?¡± the thing spoke up, an urgency in its voice at my confusion. ¡°We can show you the Relictombs. That¡¯s what you followed my Contractor for, yes?¡±


    I pulled myself to my feet, walking weakly toward the thing possessing Toren¡¯s body. My thoughts were still a jumble. But there was one thing for certain: here was the source of my search. This asura could give me answers, couldn¡¯t it?


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said with a hoarse whisper. Toren¡¯s mana signature continued to dip. The creature holding him was sitting in a seiza position, but that air of regality and composure had long since begun to seep away like melting wax.


    ¡°This zone is a reflection of Toren¡¯s mind. He can tell you the secrets of this pocket dimension,¡± the asura said, her words sending a wave of dizziness through me. ¡°But that mind is fading. He will die.¡± The creature pulled itself straight one more time, looking up at me with authority. ¡°Give. Us. Your. Dagger,¡± it hissed.


    Yet I recognized the emotion in that face. Even as the skin on Toren¡¯s face slowly dissolved under the soulfire flickering around, I felt that emotion all the same. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Toren is this monster¡¯s Caera, I realized with a strange sort of awe. It wants to protect him. Pull him through this.


    I numbly unlaced my white dagger from the hairavant wire I kept attached to it. This dagger was special: it was forged of djinn bone, something I¡¯d specially crafted years ago. It had been my constant companion through the Relictombs; a friend that had always protected me. Its interactions with aether had been one of my prime avenues of increasing my knowledge.


    The asura took the dagger from my grip with surprising deftness. She seemed to study it for a moment before something flashed into her other hand, drawn from Toren¡¯s dimension ring.


    A large fire-red feather, easily the length of my forearm, settled into the asura¡¯s waiting hands. It glistened with an ethereal glow, flaming dewdrops running along each tuft. Compared to the wrathful tempest of mana and despair that raged all around me, this simple orange feather radiated a warmth that made me want to curl up on the ground and nod off to sleep. I watched in blank fascination as the asura closed its eyes, holding the feather over Toren¡¯s heart like a mother holds a child.


    Then she raised the dagger, holding the point over the feather and Toren¡¯s breast. I had only a moment to cry out before the asura slammed the blade into the young boy¡¯s breast. I watched in mute horror as my djinn-bone dagger erupted from the young Daen¡¯s back, no doubt piercing straight through his heart. The feather itself seemed to turn incorporeal, shimmering with an orange-purple haze as it was stapled to the young mage¡¯s body by my weapon.


    ¡°And so the dice is cast,¡± the spirit said through bloody lips. Her eyes shimmered out, those burning suns setting like dusk. ¡°Another gamble to this second life.¡±


    My aether compass exploded in my hands, spraying shards of metal across the small ice floe. Toren¡¯s body toppled backward into the sea foam below, vanishing beneath the waves.

 Chapter 94: The Sea of the Soul

    Toren Daen


    I slowly sat up, blinking warily. For some reason, I expected everything to hurt, aching with the pains of a dozen battles. Yet instead, I felt light as a feather. Lighter, even. I couldn¡¯t remember when the last time I¡¯d felt so¡­ unweighted was.


    I slowly rose to my feet, turning around to observe my surroundings. I exhaled, my eyes widening at the sight that greeted me. I was standing atop a reflective lake, the water as still as time. Somehow, I was able to stand on the water without sinking in. Each of my movements, however, created tiny, wavelike ripples across the surface of the water.


    At the edge of the water was a massive sun, peeking above the lake like a cautious child. It cast the sky in a collage of purples and oranges.


    Is that Dusk, I thought absently, Or Dawn?


    I remembered this place. It echoed back to that strange fever dream I¡¯d experienced when Toren¡¯s soul merged with mine. I remembered what it had been like to course underneath this water as bits and pieces slowly filled themselves in. If I concentrated hard enough, I could remember the paintings, violin, and various items that made me me.


    Except Toren hadn¡¯t really been apart from me in the first place, had he? We were two sides of the same coin, reflected across dimensions.


    Twin souls.


    I looked down at the water below me. For all that I could tell, it was simply reflective glass. There was no way to see underneath.


    I drew a hand over my face, feeling a calm from the sensation. My mirror self looked strangely unworried by this experience. My emotions felt somewhat distant; like I was watching someone else control my body.


    I turned my back on the sun, the warmth lighting up my spine. Where one side of this lake was covered in clouds and sky, the other faded to utter blackness. Where the lake ended, an infinite expanse of darkness stretched further than I could fathom.


    But there was someone sitting on the edge of the lake, staring out into that void. I felt my feet carrying me, an undefinable purpose pulling me toward the waiting young man.


    The person had short, scruffy brown hair. Their body was toned from hours upon hours of rigorous training, a veritable statement of their skill. Their features were sharp, and though I couldn¡¯t see their face, I knew that eyes of hazel stared out. The young man was slouched slightly, something that drew a curve to my lips.


    ¡°I always told you that slouching like that was bad for your image,¡± I said lightly. ¡°It seems you still haven¡¯t changed.¡±


    The young man turned slightly, looking up at me with a raised brow. ¡°And I always told you that presenting yourself like that was an empty gesture,¡± he said. ¡°It''s pointless to posture.¡±


    I stopped a few feet from the young man, looking at the reflectionless black beyond us.


    ¡°Not going to argue, Toren?¡± he asked, eliciting a chuckle from me.


    ¡°We both know I¡¯ll lose any verbal spar we have,¡± I replied with an amiable grin. ¡°You were always the better logician. Even if I¡¯m right.


    ¡±


    ¡°You want to try this?¡± the young man asked. ¡°I¡¯ll give you half a dozen reasons why I should be allowed to slouch.¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°Not falling for that this time,¡± I said. The only way to win that kind of game was not to play.


    ¡°Your loss,¡± the young man said, turning back to the void.


    I slowly sat down, easing over the water. Miraculously, my pants didn¡¯t get damp at all as I settled, letting my legs dangle over the edge of the lake. At this point, it became a waterfall stretching down into the abyss. I squinted, leaning forward and trying to see if there was ever an end to the flow.


    ¡°Careful,¡± the teen beside me said as I peered over the edge. ¡°If you fall, there¡¯s no coming back. The Beyond will claim you.¡±


    I turned to the side, looking at the figure to my left up and down again. He was still slouched, his hands held close to his knees. A wrinkled shirt bespoke his utter disregard for fashion. That much was familiar. Yet there was a quiet, noble confidence to him. He had the air of someone who didn¡¯t care what others thought of him. His surety in himself came from within, not from without.


    But there were details here and there in Norgan¡¯s posture, mannerisms, and appearance that had slipped my mind in the months since his death. There was a scar along his arm that I¡¯d forgotten about, only remembering it now that I saw it again. His hair was shorter than I thought it should be, and his posture had a calm to it I¡¯d never seen. Norgan had always been ready to fight. Even in his laid-back slouch, there was a tenseness and readiness for action that simply wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    ¡°Am I not dead already?¡± I asked after a moment, thinking of my last memories before reaching this place. I had activated my Will, and the inevitable clash between my Blood and Bond had ensued. The carnage had ripped me apart inside, even as I struggled to fight that monstrous leviathan in the deep. The last thing I remembered was slamming my telekinesis into the water one last time.


    And yet some part of me knew, on a deep, fundamental level, that I would only see Norgan once I was dead again. And here he was before me.


    ¡°In a sense, you are,¡± my brother replied. ¡°Your body is broken right now. It is only a matter of time before you don¡¯t have a choice but to drop from this edge.¡±


    I pondered this for a minute, swinging my legs through the falling water. I was going to die again, wasn¡¯t I? This was the end of the road.


    My failure should have crushed me. At any other time, it probably would have. Yet in this tranquil, peaceful expanse, it was difficult to muster that despair. At that moment, I thought I understood how the tense readiness to strike had drained from Norgan¡¯s body.


    ¡°Another life is gone, then,¡± I said, a strange timber to my voice as it echoed into the darkness. ¡°I don¡¯t think I accomplished anything I set out to do.¡±


    Norgan chuckled, earning a glare from me. ¡°That¡¯s your problem, Toren.¡± He leaned back resting on his elbows and forearms. He seemed to see something in the blackness that escaped my perception. ¡°You call it ¡®another life.¡¯ That¡¯s the wrong way to think.¡±


    I worked my jaw. I knew my brother well enough to see this for what it was. His words were bait to draw me into a debate, one I would surely lose. Yet it had been so long since we even had these talks.


    ¡°What is wrong about it?¡± I asked, taking the hook. ¡°I died in one life, then woke in another body. That seems like a pretty clear delineation. Plus, Toren and I¡­ we had entirely different experiences beforehand.¡±


    ¡°When you go to sleep at night,¡± Norgan replied, seeming to have expected my words, ¡°You wake up the next morning. You brush your teeth, drink your coffee, and continue with your day.¡±


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    ¡°I think that proves my point,¡± I interjected. ¡°Day and night are separate times. There is a beginning and an ending.¡±


    Norgan smirked. ¡°That¡¯s what it seems on the surface, isn¡¯t it? Yet what are day and night but human concepts applied to the rotation of the planet? There is no objective ¡®day¡¯ and ¡®night,¡¯ Toren, only celestial bodies turning one-eighty degrees.¡± Norgan gestured to the expanse around us, a lazy smile on his face. ¡°Your primitive, monkey mind thinks something has changed overall between day and night, yet it is just a continuation of a cycle that has existed for countless millennia. On that little speck of dirt, however, your perspective is too narrow to perceive the truth.¡±


    I found a spark of irritation simmering in my gut. ¡°But how does this correlate to my lives?¡± I asked, wanting to reach the heart of this conversation.


    Norgan turned to face me fully. ¡°Your mindset thinks there is a Beginning After the End where there is none. It''s just another rotation of the world, pulling you into the next day.¡± He paused. ¡°Your lives aren¡¯t as separate as you think they are, brother,¡± he said. ¡°So you should stop treating them as such.¡±


    I opened my mouth to argue, the response ingrained in me for years when Norgan and I had these little debates.


    Then I closed it, realizing the truth of my brother¡¯s words. I shut my eyes, trying to block out that realization. It was irritating how often my brother was right about something.


    ¡°I worried constantly that you wouldn¡¯t have viewed me as your brother,¡± I said suddenly, not knowing where these words came from. ¡°And these past few days in that Relictombs zone¡­ I thought I was going mad. All the reminders of something gone.¡±


    Norgan made circles with his finger, miming the spinning of a sphere. ¡°Not an ending, Toren,¡± he said jovially. ¡°And not gone; just changed. You had this talk with your bond, didn¡¯t you? About cycles of life and death?¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°Though that was about the differences between basilisks and phoenixes.¡±


    We were quiet for a few minutes. I closed my eyes, drinking in the stillness. There was a serenity to this place that was hard to put into words. I thought at that moment that if I let myself drift for too long, I might lose myself entirely to the peace of it all.


    ¡°She¡¯s good for you,¡± Norgan said.


    I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said, opening my eyes to look at him again.


    ¡°Lady Dawn,¡± my brother clarified. ¡°Your Bond.¡±


    I felt a bit of nausea pierce my quiet reverie. ¡°She killed me,¡± I said, clenching my fists. ¡°That seems very, very bad for my health, Norgan,¡± I said bitterly.


    ¡°You were bound for death anyway,¡± he said, cutting through my words. ¡°After that car crash, your best chance was living on a gurney for the rest of your life, if you even survived.¡±


    I stood up, feeling the need to work my legs. I began to pace, yet Norgan was unphased. He still stayed on the edge of the lake, staring out into the distance. ¡°So I should be, what?¡± I said, clenching my fists. ¡°Grateful that she took that choice away from me?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t decide what you feel,¡± Norgan said, unperturbed by my restlessness. ¡°But I will tell you how to think, brother. That¡¯s my job. Lady Dawn may have ended your life on Earth, but she gave you another chapter here. There is always another side to things. Another perspective you can take, if you would just pull yourself back a ways.¡±


    I felt some of that energy fade from me. ¡°Just need my monkey brain to zoom out and see the celestial bodies for what they are then, hmm? It¡¯s not day and night, just another rotation of the planet?¡± I asked a bit weakly.


    Norgan chuckled. ¡°Now you¡¯re thinking like a philosopher.¡± He patted the water by his side, urging me to sit down again. ¡°Come on.¡±


    I eventually sat down again. My brother seemed strangely intent on the void, peering into it as if it would answer his secrets.


    There were so many things I wanted to say, yet I was having trouble making any noise. ¡°I killed Kaelan Joan,¡± I said after a moment, trying to keep the conversation going. ¡°I paid back the life she took from you. And if I think about it, I also paid back what the Joans did to the Daens a few decades back, too.¡±


    Norgan shrugged. ¡°I knew you would,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s just the kind of problem only you could solve. And now you¡¯ll make it through the Relictombs, taking our name back for ourselves.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, seeing the flaw in his statement. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to be possible,¡± I said. ¡°Like you said, I¡¯m dead now. It¡¯s kind of hard to do anything when you¡¯re dead.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say you were dead,¡± Norgan replied, surprising me. ¡°I said you were dead in a sense. There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s just semantics,¡± I argued.


    ¡°Semantics are important in every argument,¡± he replied happily. ¡°Just because you can¡¯t pick out important details doesn¡¯t mean nobody else can.¡±


    I crossed my arms. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I forgot how much of a pain in the ass you could be,¡± I said. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to say anything stupid around you, can I?¡±


    ¡°Ignorance is not a crime,¡± Norgan replied sagely. ¡°But continuing your foolish misuse of grammar after being corrected is.¡±


    I felt tempted to try and kick my brother, but the yawning abyss in front of us dissuaded me from that idea.


    ¡°You are on the edge of death,¡± Norgan said, this time more somberly. ¡°But when I said your bond is good for you, I meant that in nearly every sense of the word.¡±


    My mind flashed back to the last words Lady Dawn had said to me right before I¡¯d lost consciousness.


    ¡°I can¡¯t lose another son.¡±


    ¡°What is she doing?¡± I asked. Norgan seemed to have an understanding that surpassed my own. And the wisdom in his eyes was beyond what had been there in his time in Alacrya. ¡°You¡¯re implying she¡¯s trying to save me, somehow.¡±


    Yet as I said the words, they trailed off as a measure of horror suffused my soul. What had Sylvie done for Arthur when he had nearly destroyed himself by overtaxing the Third Phase of his Dragon Will?


    She¡¯d gifted her body to Arthur, allowing him to just barely survive. But that came at the cost of reducing her to a simple egg.


    What would happen to my bond if she tried to do anything similar? She didn¡¯t have a body to give me. What would remain if she did the same?


    Panic began to suffuse me as I jumped to my feet once more, trying to think if there was anything I could do. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I had never hated Lady Dawn, even after the revelation of my reincarnation. She had grown too close to my heart; too intertwined with my being. To despise her would mean despising myself. And the revelation had only hurt because I cared for the wistful old bird.


    I didn¡¯t want her to die for me.


    ¡°It¡¯s not what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Norgan said, his words cracking across my thoughts like a whip. ¡°She¡¯s making a deal with Sevren Denoir. Your bond will live through what she¡¯s about to try, at least if it works. Though she won¡¯t be as¡­ whole.¡±


    ¡°What do you¨C¡± I started to say, before pain radiated from my chest like a knife. I stumbled backward, momentarily overcome by a searing fire that scorched through my muscles.


    A deep, penetrating wound had opened over where my heart should be. Yet instead of blood, it leaked an orange-purple light that seemed almost blinding. I grasped at the wound, grunting as I fell to my knees. The light streamed through my fingers, burning them, too.


    I felt the pain scorch through my flesh, making me scream. It traveled along my nerves and muscles like a tide, overwhelming every sense I had. Norgan watched on with a forlorn look, though he made no moves.


    ¡°Lady Dawn told you of the First Sculpting, did she not?¡± he said, kneeling down beside me and resting a sympathetic hand on my agony-ridden form. ¡°How the phoenixes build themselves back from the brink?¡± He paused. ¡°Though this is quite the chance she¡¯s taking. No asura has ever tried to morph a ¡®lesser¡¯s¡¯ body to their own tastes. It''s akin to working with wood when you¡¯ve forged metal all your life. And all at once, too, not in bits and pieces over years as she¡¯s accustomed to.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have the wherewithal to respond or even process what my brother was saying. Everything burned. Fire scoured my soul, licking at its edges and tearing its way through every crevice of my being.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see me again eventually,¡± Norgan said as I writhed on the reflective water, leaking light like a sieve. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry you ever had to feel doubt about it, Toren. But you should know something.¡±


    For what must have been the hundredth time since I reawakened in this world, I felt my consciousness receding under the pressure. Even through the agony, I expected darkness to overcome my vision.


    Yet it was a blinding, brilliant light that slowly engulfed my senses instead, burning just as hot as my heart.


    I could just barely make out the next words Norgan spoke, audible over the virulent hum of power. ¡°You always have been¨Calways will be¨Cmy brother.¡±

 Chapter 95: From the Chrysalis

    Sevren Denoir


    I watched as Toren¡¯s corpse disappeared beneath the waves, feeling a wave of horror at the spirit¡¯s actions. The young mage had been extremely suspicious of me from the start, but as we¡¯d gotten to know each other these past few days, a kinship had budded between us.


    To see him die tugged at my emotions in a way I did not expect, especially after the tantalizing offer from the thing inside his body. I¡¯d thought it had cared for Toren, yet its actions spoke otherwise. Stabbing him through the heart¡­


    Part of me was still unsure if he was even dead. The young man had a strange aura to him; one of mystique and power that burnished under his truthful exterior. The young mage was no politician. I had very quickly deduced the tells he gave for when he lied.


    I wasn¡¯t even given a chance to process further. An elite undead rushed me, snarling through deformed lips. I was forced to divert its mana-clawed hands to the side with my own, before punching it square in the jaw with a supersonic fist.


    The creature¡¯s head twisted at an unnatural angle as my knuckles rocked across its face, dropping to the ground.


    But I was still without a weapon, only my hairavant wire to my name. Without my dagger to accentuate my skill, it was like going into a fight with only a buckler and no way to strike back.


    Bered was launched to the side by the commander undead. Internally, I felt at my mana reserves. Less than half of my total capacity was left.


    I gritted my teeth, banishing thoughts of Toren Daen. The Relictombs cared for nobody, and I had a battle to win.


    I blurred back toward the commander, sidestepping an arcing bolt of lightning one of the grafted appendages threw at me. Those attacks were exceedingly weak: maybe even under what a mark could produce, but even the slightest misstep now could bring death.


    I zipped toward the commander, my hearing a buzz for the barest moment as I engaged my rune. When I reappeared, I tried to wrap my wire around its leg, but the thing had clearly been watching my previous fight. It grasped onto the thin loop, then pulled.


    The wire cut deeply into the monster¡¯s fingers, but I was forced to disengage lest the creature break my only weapon. If I had my dagger, I would¡¯ve had more options.


    Hraedel was the next to attack, the fool. Five sickles of ice spurred through the air, their pristine white edges gleaming. Any other mage or monster would¡¯ve tried to dodge that attack or attempt a parry of some kind.


    But the brutish commander, standing easily two stories tall, simply tanked the assault without a care. The ice sickles cut divots into its flesh, yet new meat quickly flowed to fill in the gaps.


    Bered rushed the creature from behind, aiming his mace at where Numar¡¯s sword was still embedded in its leg. It impacted like a gong, driving the blade further in. The commander stumbled, going to one knee.


    Seeing an opportunity, I zipped forward, my fist blurring as I altered its mass. Right before the moment of impact, I increased the mass of my strike tenfold. I¡¯d practiced this technique for years, but the timing had to be precise.


    My blow struck like a boulder, the shock rippling up my arm and making my joints ache fiercely. The creature¡¯s pristine skull cracked from the impact, toppling over and sliding slightly on the metal.


    I was careful in using my regalia for barehanded combat. Due to the nature of how my body accelerated and decelerated with reduced mass, I couldn¡¯t change the direction of a punch once it had been thrown. It was very, very easy to overextend what would¡¯ve otherwise been a catastrophic blow simply because the opponent shifted slightly to the side.


    Furthermore, if I increased the mass of my strike too early, the energy would bleed off, like an inverse to how a bullwhip cracked. Increase it too late, and I simply had a very heavy fist.


    Numar rushed forward, Jameson¡¯s shield clutched between his hands. He raised it up, ready to drive it down like a wedge through the monster¡¯s now cracked skull.


    An arm erupted from the monster¡¯s shoulder, latching onto Numar¡¯s leg. He screamed as frost spread from the grip, and his calves instantly freeze-burned. I sent out my wire, hoping to loop the arm, but not fast enough. Instead of holding onto the boy, it tossed him to the side.


    Right into the water.


    Bered immediately abandoned his skirmish against the monster, crying out in alarm as his twin splashed into the lake. He rushed to the side, forgetting about the present issue entirely.


    Inexperienced fool! I thought, taking a step backward as the thing rounded on me. Hraedel was sulking to the side, the fight having gone out of him. He looked up at the sky emptily on his knees, awaiting the end.


    The flesh titan rounded on me. Beady violet pits peered out from where the eyes should be, and I thought I saw a flicker of triumph there.


    I squared my stance, preparing for this final battle.


    Then the commander froze, its movements stalling robotically. It looked up at the sky, its eyes dimming. The entire battlefield stilled, spells no longer firing as something blotted out the sky overhead. Jana dropped her shield as she gasped, her knees shaking. Alandra whimpered into Jared¡¯s wilting embrace. Bered was drawn from the water¡¯s edge, his survival instinct overpowering his worry for his sunken twin. Hraedel looked up at whatever it was, laughing maniacally.


    ¡°Yes! The Vritra are here! They¡¯ll save us from this hell!¡± He cried, the only words in the stillness.


    I felt my stomach lurch as a shadow was cast over me, enveloping me in cold. I felt like I¡¯d been cast out bare in a winter storm, the aura suffusing every inch of the air like snow.


    Yet this wasn¡¯t the cold of winter that made you huddle next to a fire and share tales under low light. This was the chill of death; the season of ending. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle, my core roiling in my chest. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I slowly turned around, looking up at what had blotted out the sky.


    I dropped my hairavant wire, staring up mutely at the final challenge of this strange zone. A massive sea serpent looked down on us like we were ants, its head larger than the ice floe we all fought desperately on.


    Its mute gray scales, each the size of my head, rejected the light as the thing scrutinized us all.


    If its head is this massive, I thought numbly, It must be as large as a skyscraper beneath the waves.


    Then the thing opened its mouth, revealing what must have been a portal to hell. The hands of the damned clawed and thrashed from within as the creature slowly lowered its head, clearly intent on swallowing the ice floe whole.


    We all awaited our imminent deaths with a broken acceptance. Even the other undead around us seemed resigned to their end.


    Something bright and orange shot from the water, humming with power. It crashed against the side of the massive snake¡¯s head, exploding with the force of a dozen bombs. The impact made the skull lurch to the side, a roar that made my teeth rattle echoing from its gullet. For a moment, the serpent¡¯s skull was engulfed in hellfire.


    Then it crashed back into the water, throwing up a wave that cascaded over our tiny ice floe. I was tossed off my feet, nearly tumbling into the water as the lake churned.


    I held onto a jagged divot in the ice, Jameson and Mralka¡¯s bodies tumbling limply past me. My arms ached from the strain, my core having been nearly wrung dry. I cracked my skull against the metallic surface once, stars crossing my vision. When the turbulence finally settled, I spared a glance up, feeling dizzy from the injury.


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    Toren Daen hovered over the platform, his hand smoking as he held it out like a benevolent asura. He was drenched in water, his long hair sticking to his neck. His shirt hung in scorched tatters around his body, making the glowing chains on his arm¨Cwhich stretched all the way to his sternum¨Call the more prevalent. In his other hand, he clenched Numar by the collar like a wet puppy.


    How? I thought, my mind struggling to try and make sense of this madness. I watched this man get stabbed through the heart. Nothing could survive that.


    Toren peered down at our platform. The mages around all looked up at him with incomprehension, each and every person attempting to make sense of what had just happened. The mage tossed Numar to the ground unceremoniously before settling his feet down, then quickly walked to where Darrin clutched Dima¡¯s broken body. He started to do something as he held his hands over their still forms, power surging at his command.


    The undead all around us finally seemed to recognize that a new threat had appeared. The commander, who had been focused on me originally, bellowed from the depths of its soul, crashing over the platform as it surged toward Toren. Each of its steps heralded doom like a drum.


    I gathered myself finally, calling out in alarm. ¡°Behind you, Daen! The commander!¡±


    Toren didn¡¯t even look up from whatever he was doing over Darrin and Dima¡¯s bodies. His back was to me, a tired hunch to his shoulders.


    I began to run forward, my hairavant wire forgotten on the ground where I¡¯d left it. Yet before I could even engage my regalia, Toren pointed a single finger over his shoulder. Mana buzzed around his index finger, a bright red glow shimmering into existence.


    Without even turning back, Toren released his spell. A thin beam of searing plasma shot from his finger like a laser, unrelenting in its course. The beam punched straight through the charging commander¡¯s chest, erupting out the other side and passing inches from my skull.


    I numbly raised a hand to the side of my head, feeling where some of my hair had been singed by the attack. I hadn¡¯t even had time to react. I turned numbly, noticing an elite undead right behind me¨Cone I had missed in my confusion and awe¨Cfalling as if its strings were cut, a hole seared straight through its skull from that beam of plasma. All around us, the corpses that were on the brink of overwhelming our broken crew stumbled limply, falling to the water and for once acting like the corpses they were. Without the commander¡¯s influence, they were no more than fodder.


    The commander stumbled, crashing to the floor as its momentum carried it over the ice. Dead flesh seeped around it like wax off a melted candle as the collage of bodies slowly broke apart around it. A disgusting smear stretched as the ice carried it onward.


    Its body stopped a foot from where Toren worked, intent on whatever he was doing to the two mages. Then Toren stood, clenching and unclenching his fists.


    I forced myself out of my stupor. Now was not the time to gawk. While the battle had lulled, I was under no illusions we were in the clear. We were still on track to die, and that massive monster still lurked beneath the waves.


    Toren turned to me, a strange look on his face as he observed me, yet my own eyes were drawn to the young man¡¯s chest.


    A deep, thick scar stretched over his left breast. Arcing scar tissue stretched over his heart as if he had been branded with an iron, yet otherwise, I would never have been able to tell he¡¯d been stabbed through the heart.


    ¡°My bond made an oath to you,¡± Toren¡¯s voice said, strangely even in the air. I looked up at him, confused. Bond? ¡°And it looks like you¡¯re down a weapon because of it.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, unsure of what to say. Was he referencing the thing that had spoken through him like a puppet? It had promised me answers about the Relictombs through the young mage. Despite my situation, I felt a bubbling hope build in my chest.


    Before I could respond, however, Toren reached down to his side, unlatching something from his belt. He tossed it to me, then turned to regard the water.


    I caught what he threw with a quick swipe. I recognized it immediately: it was the basilisk blood alloy dagger he¡¯d always used. Basilisk blood was one of the few materials that could be used to channel decay-aspected mana without breaking down, and thus was extremely durable.


    ¡°A Promise to you,¡± the heir of Named Blood Daen said, before hovering in the air again. Light flourishes of mana glowed on the ice all around him. ¡°I¡¯m going to hold this sea creature off as best I can. I need you to work with Darrin to get the survivors out. Got it?¡± he said.


    As if on cue, Darrin Ordin began to stir nearby, his groans echoing outward. Around us, the mages slowly gathered like moths to a flame. They hovered around Toren as if he were a bonfire and they weary travelers, keeping a distance but needy for the warmth. Alandra and Jared knelt by Dima and Darrin¡¯s side. Bered hugged his twin¡¯s soggy form, crying openly. Numar simply stared at Toren as if he were a diamond. Jana seemed unsure of what to do. Hraedel laughed madly.


    I swallowed as I processed what the mage had told me to do. I didn¡¯t like taking orders. In fact, I hated it. That was why I¡¯d avoided my responsibilities as a highblood heir for so long. I chafed at the unsympathetic and petty demands of my parents, irritated that they didn¡¯t see the big picture.


    Couldn¡¯t they see that their politics and maneuvering accomplished nothing? That unless we made ourselves truly useful to our Sovereigns, we were simply another stain on the map?


    But maybe there was one who saw this all from a different perspective. A person who knew what was at stake and how to win this endless struggle.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get them to the center island and to the exit portal, wherever it is in that giant skyscraper,¡± I said earnestly, drawing the basilisk blood alloy dagger and clutching it tightly. ¡°Just don¡¯t get yourself killed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already done that twice,¡± Toren said flippantly, turning away. ¡°It didn¡¯t keep me down long.¡± Then he paused. ¡°Though it might be three times now. I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    While that opened up another endless box of questions, I shoved it aside. ¡°Wait, Toren!¡± I called after him as he slowly hovered over the water. ¡°How are we going to get this ice floe to the center island?¡±


    He turned back to me, an almost devious smirk on his face. I paled, recognizing the look in his eye. The exact same one he had before he¡¯d shoved me out a window.


    ¡°Oh, you damn bastar¨C¡±


    Our ice floe lurched as Toren shoved on it telekinetically, sending us skipping like a rock along the water.


    Toren Daen


    Mana coursed through my veins in turbulent, powerful waves, contrasting the serene water I looked down at from above. I felt strong; my body a fortress as sturdy as Taegrin Caelum¡¯s vaults. The sheer quantity of mana suffusing my muscles made me almost gawk in wonder.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s spell, whatever it was, had altered my body on a fundamental level. The basilisk within me had been scoured away, replaced with something both foreign and not. My leg was healed, feeling sturdy like a pillar once more. The scars that had crisscrossed my body had vanished as if washed away, except for a brutal stretch right over my heart.


    My chest ached with a strange pain, but it was paltry compared to the changes in my physique. If before my mana channels were garden hoses carrying energy, now they were akin to steel pipes. Mana stayed in my bones in a way that baffled my mind, suffusing me with a power and perception I¡¯d never felt. The ambient mana around me reacted and flowed as if compelled by an invisible hand.


    So this is why the asura are to be feared, I thought absently, keeping my eyes peeled for the giant serpent under the water. Using wide-area telekinetic pushes, I was able to hover over the water as I sent the other mages on their way to their destination. I trusted Sevren would see them to safety. I had my own task to complete.


    ¡°While still mostly human, your body is not just of the phoenix,¡± Lady Dawn said against my mind. She sounded weary, something that immediately dampened my spirits. ¡°But of the ancient djinn as well. The First Sculpting was a success. No longer do you suffer from the foul taint of the Basilisk.¡±


    I knew the djinn part of my new physique well enough. Upon seeing Darrin and Dima¡¯s wounded forms, I¡¯d acted under a fugue state, twisting and funneling my lifeforce through their bodies in a way I had never done before. And, to my astonishment, they had healed.


    There was a tangible relief to Lady Dawn¡¯s words as she said them. But never before had the woman sounded so small, like a candlefire bracing against the wind. I remembered Norgan¡¯s words as I drifted through that soul space.


    ¡°She¡¯s making a deal with Sevren Denoir. Your bond will live through what she¡¯s about to try, at least if it works. Though she won¡¯t be as¡­ whole.¡±


    I could feel it over our tether. My bond had given a part of herself over to me, leaving her exhausted and hurt in a way I didn¡¯t understand. I didn¡¯t know what the phoenix had promised to the Denoir heir, but I would be willing to pay nearly any price to account for what the asuran shade had done to herself and to me.


    The leviathan in the deep was an ambush hunter. It only struck when it was sure of its victory; when prey wandered too close to its domain. I had to count on that to lure its attention away from the ascenders on the water. Far in the distance, the undead began to organize themselves again, creating tiny boats and platforms to close in on the central island. I¡¯d have to kill those things, too.


    My Phoenix Will burned hot in my core, suffusing me with knowledge. But I still didn¡¯t think this would be enough to kill the monster in the deep. But with the stability of my new physique, maybe I could push my Will further than just the first phase¡­


    I quickly shut that thought down, instinctively recognizing what would happen to my Bond if I tried. She was already so diminished.


    I drew Oath from its scabbard, the swept-hilt saber settling neatly into my hand. Mana thrummed from my core, suffusing the edge with a shearing force. The water reflected the vermillion shine of my eyes as I prepared to face the undead scourge.


    I felt the asuran shade of my bond going dormant, our mental tether conveying her exhaustion as a physical weight. I didn¡¯t know what she had done to heal me, but thinking of what it must have been sent a sharp, brittle ache through my chest.


    ¡°Rest for a while, Aurora,¡± I said quietly, directing my gratitude and care to the woman who had sacrificed so much to keep me alive. ¡°This will be over when you wake up.¡±

 Chapter 96: Smoke on the Water

    Toren Daen


    As my bond slowly accepted sleep, I surveyed the tide of undead approaching on their makeshift rafts.


    The numbers on the water had been reduced significantly by the resistance of the ascenders I traveled with, and then further decimated by the sudden emergence of the leviathan below. This gave me the time I needed to prepare.


    I watched as several corpses toppled into the water, jostled by their clumsy allies. They never rose up again, sinking like stones to the lakebed. The lake had truly cut off their ability to advance: amidst the horde, which loomed with flickering violet eyes on one end of the shore, only a few seemed to be able to conjure solid platforms. This prevented me from being rushed by thousands of corpses all at once, keeping instead to a still-petrifying hundreds.


    Despite this, there was a uniformity to their slow approach that reminded me of the acidbeam hornets I¡¯d faced so long ago. There was a weave of intent that I could almost taste on the air, coating each and every entity in its thick, tarry smog.


    These creatures were operating under a hivemind.


    My eyes, which felt hot under the effects of my Phoenix Will, flicked over the water, searching for my targets. They were easy to spot: colossal monuments of gray flesh that stood imperiously along the waterline. Their eyes alone carried true intelligence.


    Cut the head off the snake, I thought, shaping an orb of solid fire in my hands, And the body will wither. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I took a few seconds of precious time to mold the shape I wanted, stretching out the familiar orb into a foreign shape. The sphere slowly became a shaft, then formed a solid top of orange. I hefted a lance of flame, feeling its haft sizzling warmly against my palm. The spearhead flared visibly, ready to sear and sunder.


    The undead weren¡¯t far from me now.


    I lined up my sights, my eyes boring into the bonfire of slate-gray lifeforce that this flesh titan held in its chest. Then I threw my spear of fire, adding a final flare of telekinesis to accelerate it on its way.


    There was a blurring streak of orange as my spell sought its target. The water parted around it as it traveled, steam rising from the surface of the lake as my fire spell honed in on the undead.


    But the thing seemed to be expecting my attack. A dozen mana shields popped into existence as the intent threading from its heartfire like puppet strings directed the minions to raise their barriers.


    My fire lance ignored them like they were paper, searing through earth, ice, water, and even more fire as it traveled on its way. Unfortunately, each defense it shredded sapped away a little more of its mana. Motes were chipped off as it scoured its way forward such that once it reached its target, the projectile merely splashed against putrid flesh with minimal harm.


    I ground my teeth, then forcibly settled myself. Long-range fighting wasn¡¯t my specialty, and I needed to save my mana to ward off the true monster under the water. I couldn¡¯t use plasma recklessly or try and overwhelm these things with power lest I tire myself out too soon.


    The place I shined was at medium to close range, where my telekinesis was most effective in assisting me. My mobility was superb, so I could be where I needed to ward off these monsters.


    I internally checked my core. It was lined with silver cracks, heralding another advancement, but I ignored those for a moment. I was at little more than half my maximum mana capacity, but it was draining fast.


    My Acquire Phase wasn¡¯t usually this demanding of mana, but without my bond to stabilize its effects on me, my own mind and body were left to shoulder the burden. The latter was more than up to the challenge with my new physique, but with the former, I had to keep my thoughts from racing in uneven directions under the effects of my primal Will.


    So be it.


    The first of the ice floes drifted within my telekinetic range. Before the undead on it could even start conjuring spells, a bullet of solid sound embedded itself into the ice below. Then the spell exploded, sending rippling cracks through their makeshift platform as the sound mana forced vibrations through the structure. It promptly shattered, dropping the flailing undead into the water below.


    They sank.


    I had been conservative in my use of offensive sound magic throughout this zone, fearing the retribution of these creatures. But I didn¡¯t need to contain that part of my arsenal any longer. As more and more ice floes reached my range, I zipped across the lake, using wide-area telekinetic pushes on the surface like a water strider to keep myself aloft. Wherever I went, I targeted the platforms first and foremost, avoiding wasting mana on taking out each undead individually. The commanders on the outskirts quickly wised up to my tactics, the intent threading from their bodies twisting in a way that made my skin crawl.


    A wave of fire washed over me as I approached another ice floe, but my telekinetic shroud easily shrugged off the measly attack like it was a breeze. When I noticed the undead reinforcing their raft with mana, I switched tactics myself.


    I blurred forward, smashing into the raft with the force of a comet. An undead simply fell apart as its body crumpled under my boots. Then I thrust my arms outward, using an unfocused wave of telekinetic force. Half a dozen undead were sent into the water, snarling and hacking all the while.


    My instincts, heightened by both my Will and assimilated body, blared from the edge of my perception. Knowing some sort of attack was coming, I backflipped off the ice floe, then latched onto it midair with my emblem. I hefted the raft in front of me like a shield with my telekinetic emblem as I settled back over the water.


    A focused nimbus of electricity arced against my makeshift shield, splintering it and making me slide back over the water. A commander was attacking me, all its limbs focused on spewing electricity wildly.


    I hissed, exhaling smoke as the assault continued. I gathered sound mana over my fist, simultaneously building up a telekinetic charge over my knuckles. I reeled back, then punched my makeshift ice shield with the force of a nascent asura.


    The massive block of ice sped forward, splitting the wave of electricity as it came. Focused as it was on its lightning barrage, the miniature iceberg smashed into the commander, sending it toppling into the water. Electricity arced and sputtered over the water as it sank, yet I knew it wasn¡¯t truly done for.


    Then I sensed a wave of familiar power rising in the water. I got the barest glimpse of the leviathan as its jaws swallowed the two-story-tall commander with a whump. Hundreds of undead all around me went limp simultaneously, their tenuous tether snapping.


    Okay, I thought. Three down, two to go. I was grateful the leviathan below was indiscriminate in its targeting, but I suspected it wouldn¡¯t strike at me unless I made myself an alluring enough catch.


    I coalesced a handful of soundshot in my palms, then morphed the constructs into something more streamlined. I clenched vibrating feathers of solid sound between my fingers like throwing knives, crystallizing the pure mana I¡¯d interweaved to make them solid.


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    I waved my hands with a telekinetic flourish, sending my makeshift darts toward one of the remaining commanders. The last two were working together, surrounded by a veritable horde of undead on the largest ice floe I¡¯d seen yet. While I¡¯d been picking off the stray icebergs as they floated too close to the looming Empire State Building, these last commanders had strategized.


    My telekinetic feathers cut through a few of the approaching waves which had wedged themselves in like sardines to resist my assault. Once my shearing feathers¨Cwhich vibrated like a buzzsaw¨Ccut through enough enemies, they simply dissipated.


    I worked my jaw, thinking of a way to try and end this once and for all. My method of creating solid fire and sound was based on rudimentary insight gained from Dornar Joan¡¯s flame constructs, but I didn¡¯t have the understanding required to make those spells truly durable. If I added too much pure mana, I negated the benefits of searing or vibrating attributes I aimed for. If I created too little, it would fall apart in an instant.


    Normally, this wasn¡¯t a problem. I used my solid mana constructs as shotgun attacks, chucking a handful of solidified fire at monsters with a burst of telekinesis to create an effect a lot like a cluster bomb. But I imagined how quickly I could¡¯ve ended this fight if my solid constructs could endure more punishment as they punched through obstacles.


    I felt my mana draining at an increasingly worrying rate as my Acquire Phase seeped through my bones. I had no doubt I could tear through all the remaining undead with my new physique and broad repertoire of powers, but the true enemy lurked below.


    I ground my teeth, then floated higher in the air. I raised one of my hands, funneling a large amount of mana through my reinforced veins. A fireball appeared over my palm, then began to grow as it gorged itself on my mana.


    That got the attention of the undead well enough. A multi-elemental volley of spells began to arc toward me as I prepared a colossal fireball. With Oath clenched in one hand, I cut through as many as I could. I managed to divert a spray of lightning with my telekinetic pulls, leveraging my increased understanding in my Acquire Phase to alter their flow. Oath came up in a humming cut, vibrating with sound mana as it sheared a boulder twice my size in two. Before, I might have felt that impact pressing up my arm even with my telekinetic shroud bolstering my strength.


    Now, it was barely a sweat.


    A dozen quick telekinetic punches shattered slabs of metal as a wave of fire erupted from Oath, wiping away arcs of cutting wind and obliterating grasping chains of ice that sought my ankles.


    And still, the fireball in my left palm continued to grow. I felt my core strain as I pumped more of my reserves into it, enlarging it to an easy twenty feet wide. The heat of it made me sweat, even though it was my own mana.


    Then I waved my arm down, letting the massive fireball slowly drift toward the approaching ice floe like an unforgiving comet. What it lost in speed, it made up for in size. The undead ceased their constant attacks on me, and under the seamless hivemind began to layer shield after shield over their little oasis.


    I slumped, heaving for breath and feeling the drain on my reserves. I¡¯d been able to pack an absurd amount of mana into that one spell, courtesy of my reinforced body. I felt myself wonder once again just what my Bond had done to wash away the Basilisk¡¯s taint in my blood and replace it with such vitality.


    I listed to the side slightly, my telekinetic supports straining.


    The leviathan made its move as it sensed my weakness, lunging from the depths with its jaw unnaturally wide. The colossal beast lurched forty feet into the air as it tried to swallow me whole, making the water rock like a hurricane.


    Yet only its head and part of its neck were visible over the waves, hinting at the terror beneath. Those massive, layered teeth were sharp enough to rip through an ocean liner. And as the yawning darkness of the monster¡¯s gullet greeted me, I thought it could swallow the sun.


    I smirked, my gambit having paid off. I let myself fall toward the monster¡¯s jaw, then used telekinetic pulls to angle myself out of its range. I made eye contact with the monster as I fell past its face, my grin wide and predatory. The massive sea serpent seemed to hold my gaze.


    The direction of my fireball changed, lurching and reversing with surprising speed as my telekinetic emblem coated it in an outline of white. With the barest effort of will, a fireball the size of a living room entered the monster¡¯s jaw instead of my own body.


    It detonated a second later within the creature¡¯s mouth, blowing chunks of flesh and bone everywhere in a spray of power. The monster roared in pain, its mouth smoking as it pulled itself from the water further in anger. Higher and higher and higher it went, until it towered over most of the skyscrapers in the zone. It thrashed and writhed like a worm, its slitted violet eyes crazed from pain.


    The water surged as if it were in a hurricane, capsizing the nearby undead like they were birds caught in a storm. But I was hit the worst: the water swallowed me whole, the turbulence of the thing¡¯s tantrum tearing at me from half a dozen directions as the water churned. My body was twisted and spun around; my attempts at reorienting myself with my telekinetic pushes and pulls only made me more dizzy. Water rushed into my lungs, clogging my nostrils and clawing at my throat.


    I smashed into something in the water with the force of a train. A bare flash of bluish-white blared in my vision as it crashed into me, ripping the telekinetic shroud around my arm asunder and tearing a bloody gash across my shoulder.


    I dimly recognized that it was the glacial iceberg the undead had been camped on. All around me, corpses were torn apart by the churning water, heads, limbs, and torsos shredded like they were in a blender. My own body held on remarkably well, despite the blood now streaming from my shoulder.


    I sent a telekinetic shove randomly into the water, blowing myself off to the side. I blurred forward like a rocket, finally managing to escape the underwater tempest.


    I then shoved myself upward, ascending like a comet. I breached the surface of the water in a rush, arcing into the air before I could stabilize myself. I coughed for a few seconds, expelling the water that had gotten into my lungs.


    I winced as my shoulders heaved with each cough, feeling the wound as it leaked crimson. Embers of heartfire¨Ca strange orange-purple instead of crimson¨Csparked and popped along my blood, but I had a more visceral sense of my lifeforce now that my physique had changed.


    I laid my left arm on my shoulder, wincing as blood seeped through my fingers. I remembered what I¡¯d done for Dima and Darrin: the instinctual call to their own lifeforces with my own. It was not unlike how I spread my emotions to the world with my intent-based music.


    My heartfire flared, warmth running along my veins as my power reacted to my silent plea. Slowly, my wound began to close, the aetheric soul-tether of lifeforce enforcing my needs. Blood still dripped down my shoulder, running over my fingers, but I was good as new now.


    Except the orange-purple lifeforce in my chest¨Cwhich I could sense now, rather than just see¨Chad shrunk ever-so-slightly.


    I wasn¡¯t given the chance to think about this change. A long, sinuous shadow stretched over me, blocking out the sun with its bulk.


    I looked up. The serpent was poised above me, a towering titan that overshadowed everything. Its once flesh-coated skull was charred and burnt to a blackened stain. Where once rotten flesh covered its entire head, now only bone remained.


    My attack had wounded it, but it was angry now. It stared down at me like I was an ant, coiling and shifting in the barest of movements. My breath caught in my throat, and it was only the Will melded with my mana that kept me from instinctually cowering. Its heartfire was the same silent, slate gray of everything else here, the drab color seeming a portent of its desires.


    We stared at each other for a long moment. Then the serpent turned, orienting toward the massive Empire State Building replica. My breath left my lungs as I realized that it planned to ignore me.


    No, I thought, starting to panic internally. I can¡¯t let it shift its attention. I need to keep it here!


    I conjured a dozen fireballs around me, pumping more mana into them. I didn¡¯t even need to kill this thing. I just needed to keep it away from my comrades.


    It began to slither toward the center of the island, slowly and forcefully. I yelled, throwing my fireballs in response. They splashed against the monster¡¯s great bulk, scouring away flesh and carving meaty divots into its form. Yet it didn¡¯t even slow down, ignoring my attack with a mild roar.


    I grit my teeth, slamming my telekinetic pushes into the water. I shot forward like a jet ski, a wake blown behind me. I narrowed my eyes as I made a beeline for the Empire State Building.


    I saw the metallic ice floe my ascending partners had once resided on beached on the small island, the mages nowhere in sight. Judging from what I could feel inside the tower, they were slowly ascending floor by floor.


    What¡¯s taking them so long?! I thought with a flash of anger as I sped past the serpent, my mobility the only thing I held over it. I continued to pepper its colossal bulk with fireballs and sound grenades, trying to get it to change course. They should take the damn elevator!


    I briefly wondered why the serpent, so enraged before, had decided to ignore me. Did it have some sort of vindictive sense that told it I was trying to distract it? Or was it programmed somehow to protect this tower and prevent ascenders from reaching the portal near the top?


    In the end, it didn¡¯t matter. I needed to hold it off as long as possible.

 Chapter 97: Battle for the Tower

    Toren Daen


    I neared the island, my senses buoyed by my Will. I could feel the lifeforce of my comrades within, slowly making their way up the one hundred and two stories to the top of the tower. They were going excruciatingly slow, and as I got closer, I finally understood why.


    My new inherent sense of heartfire was a difficult thing to describe, but I could just barely feel the many undead within the mock Empire State Building. Where living humans felt vibrant and full, like a man¡¯s mood after a full meal, these sources were empty. There was something missing in their heartfire that told me they were no longer human. Sevren and the others were forced into a slog, fighting for every inch of ground they ascended.


    I¡¯d have to trust the Denoir heir with that. I reached the beach before the leviathan, the impact of my boots kicking up a spray of sand. Then I bent my knees, building power in my asuran muscles.


    I rocketed straight up in a combination of fire, telekinesis, and pure muscular drive. I hit a hundred feet vertically before I reached the peak of my arch. Before I could fall, however, I lashed myself to the side of the Empire State Building, standing at a ninety-degree angle and watching the serpent slowly weave its way through the water.


    I clenched Oath tight. The weapon had always been a comfort to me in my ascents. It was the sole constant I had that could rely on: a blade that had cut through everything I¡¯d used it against.


    But my saber was a paltry twig compared to the monster that I faced. How could this three-foot blade hope to cut something that must have been a thousand feet long?


    That didn¡¯t matter. The serpent, like a herald of death, approached me regardless of what I wished. So here I stood.


    Wishing to test something, I threw another fireball at the approaching monster. It splashed over the creature¡¯s face, failing to damage the bone even further. It let out a guttural roar that seemed to shake the entire zone as the serpent was forced to remember its previous wounds.


    Inside its mouth was nothing but charred flesh. Where before there had been innumerable grasping hands waiting to tear me apart, now there was simply bone and ash.


    I took solace in that. The wound I¡¯d given it didn¡¯t seem to slow it down in the slightest, but despite my earlier fears, it was still pissed. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The serpent finally reached the beach, arching itself up and waving its body rhythmically as it squared off with me.


    I wasn¡¯t prey to it any longer. Now, I was an enemy. A fellow predator in the same territory, fighting it for what it thought its own. It hissed, its blackened teeth rippling as the noise shuddered through me.


    I snarled right back, feeling that primal part of myself that came forward in battle surfacing.


    ¡°You think you can get through me?¡± I yelled in a challenge, my voice booming with sound magic. ¡°You think they are yours? That you can take them for yourself?!¡±


    The serpent drifted closer, at eye level with me. Its catfish-esque whiskers were almost close enough to cut.


    ¡°I made them a Promise!¡± I cried, all the emotion I¡¯d harbored in this zone bubbling forth. I settled into my stance, pointing my saber at the creature in front of me. ¡°That they would escape this place alive! I¡¯ve fought and bled and died


    fighting against this cruel world! But no matter what you¡¯ve thrown at me, I haven¡¯t broken! I am a phoenix, and every blow I take only makes me stronger! The ashes you left only served to forge my Will like iron!¡±


    The monster lunged, fangs flared wide. I leapt at the same time, the instincts my Will provided guiding me through this delicate dance of danger. I tried to pull myself to the side, aiming to streak along its jawline as I had before.


    Unfortunately, the creature had learned. It veered to the side, using its bulk to try and clip my body. I was forced to reverse my grip on my saber as my target suddenly vanished. I drove the weapon into this monster¡¯s putrid flesh, my fall drawing a line along its body. Yet just as before, it didn¡¯t seem to care as I slowly slid down its length.


    The massive snake pulled itself from the water further, its frilled spine twisting as it began to wrap itself around the base of the Empire State Building. I skated down the creature¡¯s length with boots of fire, trailing charred meat as I slid.


    My eyes were trained on one target: the grave-still hearfire that thrummed in its chest. Every single undead creature in this zone had born a minuscule spark, and that spark denoted their weakness. If I could somehow damage that little fire, I had a real chance of felling this monster.


    Hands erupted from the horrid skin around me, familiar forms clawing themselves from the muck. Familiar undead groaned as they emerged like twisted pimples from this thing¡¯s putrid flesh.


    Oath did not care for their resistance. My saber reaped their un-lives as I streaked past, trailing fire and carnage. I was a torrent of spellfire and swordplay as I blurred my way along the serpent¡¯s long trunk.


    At last, I reached the spot where the leviathan¡¯s heartfire sat. It was a massive conglomeration of slate gray, and I could almost taste the malicious intent it threaded through the undead.


    I slid my lead foot back, grounding my stance. Imbuing a sizable portion of my remaining mana into Oath, I felt it thrum with contained power. I raised the blade, preparing to bring it down. This would end the battle.


    A massive arm erupted from the flesh beneath my feet, delivering a pulping uppercut to my jaw. My jaw snapped shut with an audible click as my telekinetic shroud creaked. My body shot upward at an angle, embedding itself into the concrete walls of the tall skyscraper at my back. I worked my jaw, looking at what had disrupted my finishing blow.


    A familiar commander undead glared at me with baleful eyes, its torso popping from the muck. The same one that the serpent had swallowed earlier now sprouted from its back like a demented fruit.


    This leviathan adds the corpses it eats to its biomass, I thought, reorienting my jaw and spitting a wad of blood. I flexed my arm, ready to dive back into the fray and end this.


    Then I felt a flash of something flutter across my perception. My head snapped upward as I sensed the desperation of the mages¡¯ struggles above. The intent in the air had an almost electric tingle of panic that made my muscles tense unconsciously.


    Somehow, I understood. The mages I¡¯d sent onward were in trouble.


    I turned, ignoring the commander undead¡¯s challenging stare. I bounded up the side of the Empire State Building, blurring toward where I felt the disturbance.


    The massive head of the snake was peering into one of the many windows on the upper floors, its mouth slowly opening and rot roiling across its jaw. The anxiety and terror I felt from those within called to me like a moth to the flame.


    The mana within Oath hadn¡¯t dispersed entirely from the buildup I¡¯d invested into it. Realizing the necessity, I pulled the mana from the sword back into my body, and then funneled it into my hand. I sheathed Oath as I ran up the length of the Empire State Building. Sound mana layered once; twice, thrice over in a concussive shroud around my fist.


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    Then I used a telekinetic shove combined with a fiery stamp to rocket toward the looming skull, my fist cocked back with the contained power of a hundred jackhammers. My new physique, layered with my telekinetic barrier¡¯s strength-amplifying effects, provided the drive I needed. The barely contained telekinetic push and condensed sound mana around my knuckles primed themselves to deliver hell.


    I threw the strongest uppercut I¡¯d ever used in my life, roaring as my knuckles impacted the serpent¡¯s jaw. My arm broke, the bones within shattering from the backlash. My telekinetic shroud splintered into countless different shards, my arm wrenching itself from the socket. Blood sprayed from my ruined hand.


    But the serpent experienced worse. Part of its jaw evaporated from the force as the entire monster lurched to the side, losing its grip on the tower for a fraction of a moment. It roared in fury, the sound of grinding metal and crumpling supports blotting out everything as the entire tower quaked.


    I used a telekinetic push to shove myself through the window, the glass shattering around me. I skidded to a halt, my heartbeat like a death drum in my ears. I couldn¡¯t feel my right hand; the arm hung limply at my side as it dripped blood onto the office floors.


    The smell of scorched flesh was heavy in the air and smoke filled the corridor. But my vision wasn¡¯t obstructed: the heartfires in every mage¡¯s chest gave me confirmation no more were lost.


    I exhaled slightly, feeling relief at my success. Alandra was watching me with mouth agape, Dima¡¯s comatose body held limply in her arms. Nearby, Jared had Darrin draped over his shoulder. The shield averted his sole eye from me, seeming to be pained just by the look. Jana was carrying Hraedel¡¯s body much the same, but when my eyes met her own, they darted down to my ruined hand.


    Something flashed into my perception. I raised my left hand lethargically, catching the approaching attack with contemptuous ease.


    I turned my head. Bered Frost had an almost crazed look in his eyes as I held the head of his mace in my hand, the metal dented from impacting my palm. His silver-streaked black hair was matted to his head and his clothes were covered in a smattering of blood and grime. Numar was cowering behind him, covering his face.


    Bered¡¯s eyes widened as they made contact with my own, his face morphing into an expression of shock as his knees shook. ¡°Toren?¡± he asked, his grip loosening. ¡°Toren Daen?¡±


    I dropped the kid¡¯s mace. He¡¯d attacked me on instinct, like a cornered rat biting the hand it didn¡¯t know was there to feed it. I ignored the boy, instead turning away from him. We didn¡¯t have time for small talk or explanations.


    ¡°Sevren,¡± I said, marching toward where the highblood heir was drooping. The man seemed even more tired than I was, Promise held weakly in his fingers. That metallic wire was knotted around my dagger¡¯s hilt, giving Sevren back his main arsenal. ¡°Why are you here in a hallway? You need to get these people into an elevator! That leviathan is getting closer!¡±


    My voice came out more irritated than I would have wished. Without Lady Dawn¡¯s stabilizing presence on my mind while using the Will, I had to resist the instinctual urge to lash out at anything that got too close. I¡¯d barely kept myself from caving Bered¡¯s face in at his own instinctual attack.


    Sevren looked up from underneath his bangs, his normally brilliant white hair turned a deep silver from sweat. ¡°Did that for a while,¡± he said, taking my appearance in stride, unlike the rest of these mages. ¡°But it broke around the sixty-fourth floor. We¡¯ve had to continue on foot.¡±


    I whipped around, marching toward a nearby elevator entrance. With an effort of my mind, I wrenched the doors open. I leaned into the shaft.


    The thick steel cable, which I knew was used to haul the compartment upward, stretched downward to infinity. I couldn¡¯t see the bottom, but I didn¡¯t need to.


    I turned around. ¡°Jared,¡± I said loudly. Too loud. The shield jumped, seeming unsure of himself. He shifted, Darrin on his back groaning in pain.


    I winced internally. I¡¯d done my best to heal Darrin and Dima, but I was unpracticed with that new aspect of my power. Darrin¡¯s leg was still an ugly mess of purple. Dima was barely alive, the work I¡¯d done on her body a patchwork attempt to stop her organs from shutting down.


    I didn¡¯t wait for the shield to reply, always conscious of the serpent¡¯s return. ¡°Can you still conjure those metal plates?¡± I asked, trying to come up with a makeshift plan. ¡°And keep them stable enough for people to walk up them?¡±


    The mage seemed overwhelmed, trying to do anything but look me in the eye. ¡°Toren, I¨C I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve got Darrin here. I can¡¯t just leave him. Can¡¯t you¡­¡± He licked his lips, ¡°Kill that snake? Why do we need to rush?¡±


    I ground my teeth, my intent leaking out more than I wished. The mages around shied back like I was a live wire as I tried to think of another plan that could see these people to the top quickly enough. ¡°This form drains mana at an absurd rate,¡± I said, hissing out steam. I was already well under a quarter of my maximum mana capacity. The chains on my arm dimmed for a moment. ¡°And I might be able to, but not while protecting all of you.¡±


    Darrin groaned again, then shifted on Jared¡¯s back. Jared¡¯s eyes widened as he tried to grip his leader tighter, keeping him in place.


    ¡°Put me down, Jared,¡± the leader of the Unblooded Party said in a surprisingly even voice. Jared hesitated. ¡°Just let me stand,¡± Darrin said again, that iron seeping out slightly.


    Jared hastily complied. Darrin groaned as he put weight on his wounded leg.


    ¡°Dima,¡± Darrin said to me, his green eyes seeming to pierce my core. ¡°Will she live?¡±


    I swallowed. Truthfully, I wasn¡¯t sure. When I¡¯d found Dima, she had been practically a corpse already. The catastrophic damage that had been done to her body had turned her organs into a pulpy mess and broken her neck. I was surprised she hadn¡¯t died on the spot.


    My technique with lifeforce healing, derived from my dual djinn and phoenix physique, was far from practiced enough to ensure a full recovery.


    ¡°She will live,¡± I said after an uncomfortable moment. ¡°If I¡¯m able to see her again after this.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t say how well she¡¯d live, but I wasn¡¯t going to let that woman die.


    Darrin stared me down for a long, protracted second. The air between us seemed to stretch tightly.


    ¡°Jared,¡± Darrin said at last, ¡°Make those platforms.¡±


    ¡°But Darrin, you can¡¯t walk like this!¡± Jared said, his sole eye pleading. ¡°You¡¯ll never be able to fight again if you keep straining that leg!¡±


    ¡°Make the platforms, Jared,¡± Darrin commanded, his usual joviality gone. The man was clearly suffering backlash: his body shook intermittently and his breath was short. In fact, I couldn¡¯t sense any mana from him at all. ¡°Now.¡±


    Jared looked between us, then scurried over to the place where I¡¯d wrenched the elevator doors open and began to work.


    Then a shadow stretched over the room, blotting out what little sunlight we received. I marched forward, putting myself at the forefront of our group.


    The serpent was staring into the building with pure, undiluted hatred roiling in its eyes. The thing was missing a large chunk of its jaw, but it wasn¡¯t impaired by that as far as I could tell. I¡¯d sacrificed my arm to give it that wound, and it still wasn¡¯t slowing down.


    The mages behind me cowered, some preparing for battle and others further collapsing in on themselves. I grit my teeth, raising my hand to my broken arm. I called to the heartfire pulsing in my chest, my new intrinsic control allowing me to slowly start healing my body. My hand glowed with an orange-purple haze that sank into my wound, the motes of power directing my intent. Even as my flesh slowly knitted back together, I pointedly ignored how my own lifeforce, blazing brightly in my chest, dimmed ever so slightly at the action.


    Then the serpent did something I didn¡¯t expect. It turned and began to slither again, its body wrapped around the skyscraper. It continued on upward, its hulking body making the entire structure shudder as it gradually ascended. Waves upon waves of fleshy scales moved before our eyes.


    ¡°Why did it leave?¡± I heard Darrin ask, a mix of relief and apprehension lacing his tone. I felt the same emotions in me. ¡°Was it just unwilling to fight?¡±


    ¡°It went upward,¡± Sevren said, leaning against a nearby pillar for support. ¡°To cut us off at the top? Will it be waiting for us?¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound right. My core and body thrummed as my lifeforce slowly smoothed over aches and pains I didn¡¯t even know existed. But the anxiety remained. Was that leviathan just going to leave us here? The instincts my Will provided told me this wasn¡¯t the whole picture. Something was still horribly wrong.


    ¡°I think Toren really did scare it off,¡± Jared whispered from the elevator shaft, his mana churning slowly as he conjured platforms for the other mages to climb. A bit more softly, he added, ¡°What wouldn¡¯t be, after being sucker-punched with the force of a thunderstorm?¡±


    Alandra¡¯s timid voice spoke up next, breaking the silence. ¡°No,¡± she said, a thread of horror in her voice. ¡°The portal is up top,¡± the auburn-haired sentry said as if she was only realizing it as she said the words. ¡°That must be where it''s going!¡±


    I felt my face drain of blood. If that serpent was smart enough, all it had to do was smash the exit portal. We¡¯d be stranded here with no hope of escape. Regardless of if that serpent fell to my attacks, we¡¯d still die. I left the mages to their panicking, zipping toward the broken window.


    I thought I could just stall against this monster, drawing its attention away from my charges.


    But if it were intelligent enough to try and smash that portal, I knew I needed to kill it.

 Chapter 98: Stake of the Morning

    Toren Daen


    I rushed out of the window, jumping after the ascending serpent. I fell nearly five stories before my feet impacted liquified flesh, the squelch of rot under my feet anchoring me to the twining body.


    I immediately scanned the serpent¡¯s body, paying barely any attention to the undead who ripped themselves from the flesh around me. Telekinetic rips and bursting sound grenades dealt with the creatures as they got close, but I was focused on something else entirely.


    The leviathan¡¯s heartfire was further up the body. If I wanted to kill it, that was where I needed to aim.


    I ran up the length of the serpent, twisting and twining as I ascended. I spotted my target before long: the still lifeforce of the monster. The gray not-pulse drew me like a beacon.


    The commander was waiting for me, its baleful skull radiating malice. It stood like a sentinel over the heartfire, guarding it with its un-life. I jumped as it thrust its hand toward me, sprouting more tiny appendages that fired a myriad of spells. Small beads of gravity threatened to ruin my balance as tongues of fire kissed my skin, but I¡¯d faced worse than this before.


    I skated along the rotten flesh as I made my way closer, Oath held tightly in my fist. I brought up the sword as a metal sphere sailed past, batting it back toward the sender with the flat of my blade. As the metal impacted my red-tinged weapon, I imbued it with a bit of vibrating sound magic.


    The metal sphere shot back toward the commander, humming with the contained force of my spell. It zipped straight through the monster¡¯s side, creating a splash of rot as it impacted the serpent¡¯s body. The commander took the attack without a sweat, the hulking monstrosity unphased by the hole punched in its side. But I continued to get closer.


    The commander slammed its massive foot into the ground beneath us, injecting mana into the fleshy serpent¡¯s trunk. Ice slowly spread from that epicenter, coating my path with a slippery obstacle.


    I grit my teeth. I was already so low on mana. Where before I could¡¯ve simply charged through this undead¡¯s unholy barrage, now I had to focus on evading and slowly approaching without wasting too much energy.


    I imbued my feet with a coating of fire, wincing internally as my reserves drained even further. When my boots touched the icy floor, the searing soles of my shoes melted the ice on contact, giving me a stable place to stand.


    I lunged for the commander, Oath poised as I finally reached striking distance. The commander¡¯s arm erupted in a coating of earth as it reared back, ready to attack with the full weight of a hundred bodies.


    In response, I threw my sword at the creature with a burst of telekinesis. The undead shifted slightly, allowing my swept-hilt saber to shear through its shoulder instead of heart. I snarled as my weapon left my hand, feeling my blood pulse in my ears.


    The giant commander threw a fist augmented by earth, moving far faster than it should have with its colossal bulk. I barely ducked as the limb soared past my head, the wake blowing my hair away. I moved in close, augmenting my fists with a coating of fire. I threw an uppercut at the monster¡¯s elbow joint, feeling a satisfying crunch as my knuckles connected.


    I had to weave to the side as the monster roared, lifting a foot and trying to kick me. I moved like the wind as I sidestepped, the chain on my arm flaring as I delivered two quick punches to its side in return. Each blow cut away at the undead¡¯s fleshy armor, causing it to stumble from the impacts.


    It was forced back as I advanced, systematically overpowering it in hand-to-hand combat. I didn¡¯t throw extra spells or imbue my strikes with more power than was necessary. I needed to conserve energy, and dominating this monster in close quarters was the best way to do it.


    Hands erupted from the thing¡¯s flesh as I zipped around, trying to hit me with conjured spells from the other undead it had subsumed. Bursts of ice, balls of fire, and a wave of sand impeded my way. A few scraped against my telekinetic shroud. Most failed to break through, but one spike of metal drew a jagged cut along my cheek.


    I clenched my hand around one of the grasping wrists that sprouted, feeling the flesh squelch under my grip. Then I pulled, ripping an entire arm free from the muck. I whirled, using the fleshy appendage like a club to batter away another punch.


    The limb in my hand exploded with refuse at the impact, but I was already moving. I sent a powerful kick to the commander¡¯s knee, causing it to stumble backward further with a roar.


    I smiled. Every attack I delivered to this fleshy monstrosity healed over nearly instantly as it drew biomass from the serpent underneath us. But I¡¯d been pushing it, slowly and methodically forcing it further up the leviathan¡¯s body. It fought me tooth and nail for every inch of ground gained, but I didn¡¯t need much.


    I¡¯d pushed it away from its post. The heartfire it had been standing guard over was free of defense.


    I suddenly yanked my hand downward. Oath, which had been hovering high in the air after I¡¯d thrown it, suddenly shot downward with the force of a meteor. It blurred as I applied as much telekinetic strength as I could, accelerating it toward its destination with unerring determination.


    The commander roared in defiance as it realized what I had done by forcing it away from its post. It tried in vain to rush past me, a ton of rotten biomass surging like a truck back from whence it came. I used a bit of magic this time, latching onto its arms and legs with my emblem and anchoring myself in place. I was pulled along the fleshy body as the commander strained against its bonds, trying with desperate pulls to save its master¡¯s life.


    Oath sunk straight through the flesh of the serpent, seeking the heartfire underneath like a bloodhound. I smirked as I felt my weapon near, my feet dragging as the commander surged forward with a rageful bellow.


    Then my saber struck something. I felt the feedback like a gong as my teeth rattled, my arms shaking from the telekinetic rebound.


    Oath shot out of the serpent¡¯s fleshy side at an angle, speeding toward the water far below as it was deflected by something hard. I felt horror and despair rise in my stomach as I watched my last-ditch attempt to strike at the leviathan¡¯s weakness fail. The heartfire in the serpent¡¯s chest was unscathed, some sort of defense within ignoring my attack. Through the exit wound my saber had created, I spied the barest glint of some kind of black crystal, no doubt what had dispersed my attack.


    The commander changed tactics as it realized its master was safe. It twisted, pulling to the side instead of straight forward. My stance, which had been oriented to keep me stable from only one direction, crumbled under this new strain. I lurched to the side, my telekinetic pulls on the serpent¡¯s arms and legs working against me.


    I arced off the monster¡¯s back, tumbling through the air. I felt panic in my gut as I realized what was happening. Hastily, I lashed at the serpent¡¯s body with telekinetic pulls, hoping to draw myself back in like a magnet. White patches of mana flared along the serpent¡¯s body where I tried to anchor myself, my sole hope. The sole hope of everyone I hoped to protect.


    And hands erupted from the flesh, raising their fists like sledgehammers and slamming down on the white bursts of mana. My anchors shattered under the force, and the bare horizontal momentum I¡¯d managed teetered off.


    No! I thought desperately as I began to fall like a broken bird. No, I need to get back there!


    The snake was almost to the top of the Empire State Building. Up above was the only place we could escape from: the descension portals.


    I tried to lash myself to the creature once more, but a spell hurtled toward me midair. I had to cross my arms as a gale of wind impacted me, sending me arcing back over the water. The only thing I saw as I fell was the baleful gleam of violet in the commander¡¯s eyes as its attack succeded in driving me away from the snake.


    I fell like a broken bird, unable to anchor myself to my target any further.


    An explosion of water erupted when I hit the lake. I shot to the surface immediately, glaring upward at the sky with an expression of rage and despair. It would take too much time to reach the island again and try and ascend after the serpent. As it poised itself over the top of the massive building, I knew I had lost.


    ¡°Why?!¡± I yelled, feeling true fury at the Relictombs. ¡°Why do you keep taunting me?! Keep letting me get so close to my goals?!¡±


    I roared in anger, telekinetic bursts around me churning the waves. If only I could hit the serpent from here! I seethed, feeling my bare reserves of mana creak.


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    My abilities were focused on the close and medium range. When it came to such a vast distance, I was helpless. My range was broad around me: I had practically perfect area control in a forty-foot radius when in my Acquire Phase, but beyond that? How could I maintain anything that could kill?


    Too broad, I thought with a hopeless laugh. My arms sagged as the glowing chain on my arm dimmed. I have all the power I need, except the ability to narrow my focus.


    My shoulders slumped as I felt despair creeping up. The Unblooded Party wouldn¡¯t make it out of this place alive. I¡¯d break another promise. They would die, just outside of my ability to save.


    And the promise Aurora made to Sevren Denoir, I thought absently. I¡¯ll fail her, too.


    As I gazed up from my hovering spot on the water at the serpent as it loomed over the top spire of the Empire State, I found a grim sort of irony in that. Sevren Denoir was destined to die, wasn¡¯t he? I just made it happen faster. Fate was unchanging. Nothing I did would shift the future.


    No, I thought, rebelling against that thought instinctually. I remembered my talk with Norgan once more, in that strange sea of the soul. I could change this world. I would make it better, wouldn¡¯t I?


    I just had to try and think outside of the box. So what if my range was too broad? Couldn¡¯t I narrow it?


    I looked at the serpent¡¯s bulk as it wrapped the Empire State Building like a constrictor. It must have been thousands of feet in volume, but it didn¡¯t keep that area flat. It stretched its mass over a long, relatively narrow area.


    Feeling the beginnings of an idea, I held out my hand. I funneled nearly every last drop of my mana into my palm, a long spear of solid plasma slowly forming there. It stretched and stretched, a buzzing red hasta the length of my body settling into my hand.


    I panted from the exertion of packing so much mana into such a little space. My core ached and creaked as I neared backlash, my Will screeching in protest. But I wasn¡¯t done. Not yet.


    I cocked my hand back, settling into a stance as I lined up my sights with the static heartfire in the serpent¡¯s body. The colossal beast was preparing to attack something at the top, a roiling rot streaming from its broken jaw. Its violet eyes burned with demented glee as it prepared to deliver a final blow.


    And so I narrowed my perception. I pulled my telekinetic sense inward, restricting my range from that forty-foot radius to barely a few inches past my body. I grit my teeth from the mental effort of containing that sense, something I¡¯d never tried before. But it was possible.


    Narrow your focus, I repeated to myself like a mantra. Narrow it.


    Instead of an omnidirectional sense, I let my senses expand slightly in only one direction. And as I got into the rhythm of pushing my telekinetic radius in only one direction, I felt my heartbeat rise in staccato as my blood thundered in my ears. Sweat dripped along my face, tracing a slow journey from my forehead to the edge of my clenched jaw.


    It was working. From forcing my telekinetic radius into such a small area, it was flowing out in the only avenue I allowed it. Just as squeezing a balloon causes different parts to bulge outward, I was able to expand my radius much further in a single direction if I sacrificed that omnidirectional power.


    Blood leaked from my nose from the effort of maintaining so much at once. The spear in my hand burned my palm, balancing its solid state only one part of the struggle. I had to keep myself floating on the water, elongate my psychic radius in one direction, and then there was the final step.


    I grunted as I squeezed more mana from my core, like forcing the last bits of juice from a fruit. I felt pain lance through my new physique as I engaged my telekinesis rune one more time.


    A long, straight line of white pushing telekinetic force extended in front of me, leading straight toward the still gray heartfire of the serpent. It couldn¡¯t reach all the way there, of course, but this was the boost I needed. Like flashing signs, this line would direct my spell where it needed to go.


    I lined up my spear, settling into stance. I exhaled four words.


    ¡°Stake of the Morning,¡± I whispered, then hurled my spear along the stream of pushing telekinetic force.


    My solid plasma spear accelerated along the psychic stream like a bullet in a railgun. The simple red glow became less than a streak as each successive foot of telekinetic force sped it onward, forcing it to absurd speeds.


    Nothing happened for the barest moments. Then I was thrown back by a sonic boom, a sound like crashing thunder echoing as I was blown into the water, my Will finally receding into my core as backlash struck.


    But the clear, pristine water gave me a perfect view of the aftermath of my attack. The serpent, poised to exhale rot over the roof of the Empire State Building, stuttered. A long streak of red light blurred straight through its heartfire like a needle, then continued on through the skyscraper. The burning glow finally diffused as it exited the other side of the colossal structure, scattering into motes of nothingness as my solid plasma gave up.


    Whatever that black crystal covering the serpent¡¯s heartfire was, it was insufficient to prevent my last attack.


    I floated to the surface of the water, my power utterly spent. I felt the constricting force of backlash roiling through my core, making everything spasm. Despite it all, I felt the urge to laugh as I looked up at the sky. My uproarious guffaws cut out as my body churned, making me grunt.


    The flesh on the serpent¡¯s body dripped off of it like wax, massive globules splashing into the water below as it drooped. The water roiled like a storm as tons upon tons of biomass crashed into it, ruining the once pristine mirror-like surface.


    I was forced to try and swim for my life, my limbs locking as water crashed over my head. My body, which had felt so strong under the effects of mana coursing through my cells, was pitifully weak as I tried desperately not to drown.


    But eventually, the crashing waves stopped as the serpent¡¯s body fully sloughed away. All that remained was a colossal skeleton, still wrapped around the Empire State Building like a grim monument.


    My consciousness threatened to fade out, but I couldn¡¯t afford to fall asleep here. Out on this water, I was more likely to simply fall underneath and drown.


    I weakly pulled myself along with flaps of my arms, slowly swimming toward the island. My breath came in gasps as my body intermittently spasmed with pain, my mana core rebelling against its overuse. Every foot I swam felt like my last, my muscles burning hotter than the sun.


    But the clouds overhead, which had covered everything in their gloom since I first entered this zone what seemed like years ago, began to part. Sunlight streamed down on me from above, adding a different kind of warmth to my bones.


    I finally reached the sandy shoreline, pulling myself onto it on my hands and knees. All around me, the fleshy remains of the serpent had fallen to the ground. The smell of decay was pervading, but I didn¡¯t have the energy to care.


    I coughed weakly, my body seizing. My soaked hair coated my face, and when I lethargically pushed it out of the way, I stopped in shock.


    A single lock of my hair was a different color than the rest. Instead of my normal strawberry blonde, it was a more orange-red color that faded to pinkish-silver. With the water darkening the color of my hair, I couldn¡¯t be sure about the exact shade.


    I chuckled with a rasp. ¡°So that¡¯s another change in my body,¡± I said weakly. It seemed there were some outward physical changes to my physique, not just inner ones.


    I looked to the side. Oath was embedded to the hilt in the sand nearby, its pristine silver handle gleaming in the sun.


    I slowly, forcefully, stood to my feet, my knees quaking. I hobbled to my saber, grabbing its hilt and wrenching it free of the sand.


    There was a chip along its once-spotless edge, no doubt from the ricochet it experienced striking that strange black crystal. I sighed in disappointment.


    My clothes were in tatters, the black leather pauldrons and chest piece I¡¯d purchased burned, soaked, cut, pierced, and a whole bunch of other adjectives that didn¡¯t do their experience justice. There was a gaping hole over my heart, revealing a ragged scar on a wound that should¡¯ve been fatal.


    But I¡¯d gotten used to my clothing getting destroyed with each Relictombs run. Despite what had happened to Oath after Mardeth¡¯s touch, some part of me saw these weapons as indestructible. It was a shame that they weren¡¯t.


    I began to hobble toward the doors of the Empire State Building, using Oath as a cane. I lethargically weaved around pools of rotten sludge, huffing slightly. I made it into the lobby, and then pulled myself toward one of the elevators.


    I pressed the up button, leaning heavily on Oath¡¯s pommel. As I waited, I gently nudged my bond¡¯s tether, checking up on her. Aurora was still asleep, her exhaustion somehow deeper than my own. When she woke up, there was much I needed to tell her.


    The elevator doors opened with a ding, allowing me to step in. I pressed the button for the one hundred and second floor, then leaned against the walls. As the doors closed and the little box began to ascend, familiar music played from the speakers.


    Feelin¡¯ my way through the darkness,


    Guided by a beatin¡¯ heart.


    I can¡¯t tell where the journey will end,


    But I know where to start.


    They tell me I¡¯m too young to understand, Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They say I¡¯m caught up in a dream.


    Well, life will pass me by if I don¡¯t open up my eyes,


    Well, that¡¯s fine by me.


    So wake me up when it¡¯s all over,


    When I¡¯m wiser and I¡¯m older.


    All this time, I was findin¡¯ myself and I


    Didn¡¯t know I was lost.


    As the relaxing melody of the familiar song washed through my bones, I felt myself slump, my eyes closing as I smiled. I hummed along to the music, enjoying a chorus I hadn¡¯t heard in months. It was about time I woke up, wasn¡¯t it?

 Chapter 99: Heartfire

    Toren Daen


    I groaned, shifting uncomfortably. I felt something soft under my head, but the rest of my body felt stiff as a board. Each movement made me ache in protest.


    I opened my eyes, blinking stupidly. There was a bedroll under my head with a roughshod blanket laid over my chest. My body ached fiercely. It was the ache of overuse; the afterburn of a sprain. My body creaked as I slowly pulled myself to a sitting position.


    The second thing I noticed was the pulsing that thumped in my ears. It was like a bundle of hearts beat in a disjointed chorus, but it wasn¡¯t exactly. I wasn¡¯t just hearing this with my ears, but my own heartbeat as well.


    I hazily tried to decipher the flows of sound as they reached my ears. I counted them internally as I slowly pulled myself from the haze of sleep. All the beats seemed to come from in front of me; a subdued staccato. As my ears adjusted to the sound, I gradually began to sift through the different tempos. There was one¡­ two¡­. six, seven¡­


    I looked across from my little sleeping position. I was under the open sky, bright rays of warm sunlight washing over my body and banishing some of my aches. The sources of the heartbeats revealed themselves to me.


    Hraedel was sitting numbly on the edge of a cookfire, staring blankly at a bowl of food. He was missing a few fingers, something I hadn¡¯t spotted before. Jared and Alandra were similarly subdued, wrapped in each others¡¯ embrace. Gone was their bickering and squabbling. Now, there was only a strange solace they took in each other. The hearty shield had lost his eyepatch, revealing a deep scar that covered a closed eyelid. His beard had been singed to the roots. The auburn-haired sentry looked the best of anybody I could see, even though she was covered in myriad cuts and bruises.


    Bered and Numar were on their own bedrolls, moving fitfully in their sleep. They were each burned in several places, and I knew they would bear scars deeper than physical from this zone. They were boys playing at men and had been thrust headfirst into the struggles of adulthood.


    Sevren was staring up at something out of my sight with a forlorn expression, his white hair brilliant once more.


    And Darrin was sitting with someone¡¯s body on his lap.


    Seven heartfires I can hear, I thought blearily, realizing that was what my new djinni-phoenix body was registering. But there are eight people here.


    A fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through my body. I lurched from my makeshift bedding, scraping my hands and knees on the concrete beneath me. I distantly realized I was on the observatory at the peak of the Empire State Building, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    I stumbled my way toward Darrin, who was holding Dima¡¯s body. While everyone¡¯s lifeforce beat in a subdued staccato, I could hear nothing from Dima¡¯s soul.


    Mages cried out in surprise as I barrelled my way straight to Darrin. He looked up at me with a hard expression, but I ignored it, falling to my knees in front of the two. I laid my hands on Dima¡¯s body, hoping against hope.


    For a long, painful moment, there was only a void. An empty expanse echoed back at my attempted call.


    Then I felt it. A weak, weak heartbeat under my hands. Darrin gave me a stern, cold look as I laid my palms over his ex-lover¡¯s body, but he restrained any response. The ascenders slowly crowded around me as I tried to make use of my new powers.


    My own lifeforce had a deeply sonorous beat. Every thump seemed to rattle my bones with its power, cascading with energy words could not describe. I meshed myself with that rhythm, acting purely on instinct.


    It¡¯s just like my music, isn¡¯t it? I thought a bit headily. I need to show what I feel; get them to sympathize!


    And so I reached out with a limb I didn¡¯t know I had, caressing the heart beneath my palms. My hands glowed orange-purple as my lifeforce responded in turn.


    Come on! I thought, that steady rumble of my heart lacing my intent. You want to live, don¡¯t you? Your heartfire doesn¡¯t want to go out, does it Dima? You must have something to live for! Something that makes your heart thunder!


    For an agonizing moment, Dima¡¯s own heartbeat was almost overwhelmed by my own. It was too big; too powerful. Like the resonant crash of a hammer on a gong drowns out the sound of a mother¡¯s cry, my own strength smothered Dima¡¯s.


    No, I thought, pulling back slightly and trying to moderate my spell. I backed off hastily, trying to find the right metaphysical distance.


    And then Dima¡¯s heart flared. It was just once: a single jump in rhythm as if I had thrown a splash of kerosene onto a dying match.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said aloud, my senses wholly focused on the dying woman¡¯s body under my hands. ¡°You want to fight, don¡¯t you?! There¡¯s something here! There must be!¡±


    For an instant, Dima¡¯s heartbeat seemed to rise in pitch, responding to my call. Her body did not move; didn¡¯t even twitch. But I felt her heartbeat race under my palms. I felt a grin stretch over my sweat-stained face as the spark was lit.


    Then my mood plummeted as that gusto guttered out. The fire simmered down once more, the stress of fighting overwhelming.


    ¡°No, no!¡± I cried, uncaring of the mages watching with mute fascination. ¡°You can¡¯t give up! Not like this; not when we¡¯re so close! Come on!¡±


    There was no internal response. Despite the sympathetic call I weaved through my intent and heartfire, it was lacking something. I had a deep, resonant feeling that this was possible. That I should be able to pull Dima from the call of the Beyond. But I just wasn¡¯t powerful enough!


    ¡°Our daughter,¡± Darrin whispered suddenly, his words like a knife over my spell. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can hear, Dima, but you need to wake up.¡± He choked back a sob. ¡°You told me her name, didn¡¯t you? She¡¯s called Pen.¡±


    Dima¡¯s lifeforce surged.


    Tears were running down Darrin¡¯s face as he continued. ¡°I know why you named her that. Knew the moment you told me as you lay broken. It¡¯s from what we always used to say when we tackled something impossible, isn¡¯t it? ¡®In for a penny, in for a pound?¡¯¡±


    Yes, yes yes! I thought, Dima¡¯s heartfire reacting to Darrin¡¯s words. It arced higher and higher, seeking to reach the heights of my own.


    ¡°We have a daughter,¡± Darrin said numbly, clutching Dima¡¯s body against his chest. The jovial man I knew was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a broken, stuttering wreck. ¡°And I never knew. You need to be her mother. You can¡¯t leave without that.¡±


    I exhaled, my limbs feeling weak as I slowly withdrew my hands. The orange-purple glow suffusing them slowly dimmed as my body burned once more. Dima was still comatose in Darrin¡¯s arms, but her heart beat in a healthy staccato. I stumbled backward, nearly falling over before a hand caught my shoulder.


    Sevren wasn¡¯t looking at me. His eyes were glued to Dima¡¯s chest, where lingering motes of orange-purple flared. ¡°Vivum,¡± he whispered with shock in a voice too low to be heard by anyone else.


    There was a quiet sort of awe suffusing the group as their own heartbeats accelerated. I could hear it; feel it on a deeper level than I expected. The flurry of battle after my¡­ First Sculpting made it difficult to recognize that change in my perception.


    Looking back, I wasn¡¯t sure I would¡¯ve been able to aim my last ditch strike at the serpent without the constant buzzing of its dead heartfire in the back of my mind guiding my hands.


    Darrin was left to weep openly over his lover¡¯s body as he sensed the change. She would live.


    ¡°How long was I asleep?¡± I asked mutely.


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    ¡°Several hours,¡± Sevren¡¯s voice said from beside me. His hand was still gripping my shoulder tightly. ¡°When the elevator hit the top, we found your body leaning against the walls, unconscious. We did what we could to make you comfortable.¡±


    I sensed a slight change in two of the heartbeats nearby. I turned lethargically, noting the Frost twins slowly waking up.


    ¡°That serpent almost destroyed us,¡± Sevren said. ¡°It was poised over where the portal should¡¯ve been, ready to destroy the frame. Then there was a blinding flash of red light, and the thing died.¡± The Denoir heir gave me a knowing look.


    I turned, shrugging off Sevren¡¯s hand. Looming over the balcony of the Empire State Building was the massive skull of the leviathan, still poised to breathe toxic hell onto unwitting victims. Its skeletal body was still wrapped around the skyscraper like a monument to our struggle.


    Its skull, even without the flesh, could¡¯ve swallowed an elephant whole with ease. But sunlight shone through those bleached bones, telling me all I needed to know.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, my brain catching up with Sevren¡¯s words. ¡°You said ¡®where the portal should¡¯ve been,¡¯¡± I continued, feeling my core buzz. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    The Denoir heir shuffled uncomfortably. ¡°Come on, Toren,¡± he said, pointedly turning away. ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    ¡ª


    I stared mutely up at the empty portal frame, finally understanding the depression that smothered everyone¡¯s moods like a blanket. For all intents and purposes, it looked the same as any other descension portal, except there was simply a lack of blurring purple at the center.


    We were trapped here. I felt disbelief roiling through my weary body. After all we¡¯d fought for, this couldn¡¯t be it, could it? To have slain the monster, conquered the castle, yet have the doors barring our exit at the end?


    Had the serpent managed to damage this place after all? Or was this simply the Relictombs degrading after all?


    I leaned against a wall, rubbing my face as I tried to rationalize all this. I wanted¨Cno, I needed¨CAurora right now. Her steadfast reassurance had gotten me through so much, yet the old bird was silent in her slumber.


    ¡°This can¡¯t be it,¡± I said numbly. ¡°There must be another way out. Something we¡¯re missing.¡±


    Sevren stood nearby with crossed arms. Promise was sheathed at his waist, and I had no plans on asking for it back any time soon. ¡°I think the same,¡± he said slowly. ¡°The Relictombs simply don¡¯t act like this for people.¡± He looked at me pointedly. ¡°There must be something we¡¯re missing.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, but I was cut off from that when the Frost twins slowly walked toward us.


    Bered stalled in his walk when my eyes fell on him. ¡°Oh, uh,¡± he stuttered. ¡°Hello?¡±


    The boys were hunched in on themselves, their shoulders caving inward. They looked meek to me. This zone had taken much from them: their ascending partners, their strength, and their perception of themselves.


    ¡°We wanted to talk to you,¡± Numar said at last, pulling himself up higher. ¡°About how you¡¯ve helped us in this zone.¡±


    I sighed wearily. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I breathed out, trying to dismiss the young mages. It was my fault this zone existed in the first place. To thank me was foolish.


    ¡°No,¡± Bered said, seeming more sure of himself. ¡°No, you have done Highblood Frost a great service in assisting us,¡± he said, puffing his chest out a bit. A splinter of that old, noble demeanor he wielded before like his mace pulled itself to the surface. But it wasn¡¯t exactly the same. ¡°We, the Frost Twins, wish to formally extend our gratitude to you and yours,¡± he said, gaining confidence with each word.


    ¡°If you ever seek refuge or safe haven from your troubles,¡± Numar said in perfect sync with his brother, "We would be more than happy to assist."


    There was an awkward silence between us as the Twins made their statement.


    I smiled wryly. "You seem certain we''ll make it out of here alive," I noted sardonically, gesturing to the empty portal behind me. "But it appears we''re all trapped here."


    "You''ll find a way out of this," Bered said with a shine in his pale eyes. "You''ve gotten us this far."


    I averted my gaze from the admiration I saw there, instead scrutinizing the portal frame once more. It was covered in the familiar glowing purple aetheric runes that flowed and twisted on either side.


    I looked down at the signet ring of Named Blood Daen as the twins'' heartbeats receded, the two leaving me alone again with Sevren.


    Blood Daen''s sigil was of a dagger leaking runes on either side, one side the glyphs on ascension portals, the other from descension portals.


    From ascenders we come, as ascenders we stay, I thought with fondness. The sigil had always fit me, but after my recent experiences, it felt inadequate.


    I narrowed my eyes, taking my ring off to more closely observe its golden etchings. I focused on the runes that flowed from the left of the dagger, furrowing my brow.


    Sevren seemed to immediately pick up on my shift in mood. "Toren?" he asked as I loped toward the empty portal frame. "What is it?"


    I gazed up at the runemarked stone arch, my mind skipping over everything I knew of the Relictombs. They were designed to pass down insight into aether, and only once the trial-goer had succeeded were they allowed to leave.


    "Sevren?" I asked, not turning to look at the man. "What did my Bond Promise you to secure your help?"


    Sevren''s heartfire picked up in rhythm notably. I could sense it, even without looking at the man.


    "That¡­ being who possessed your body?" He questioned.


    I didn''t respond, my eyes still tracing over the runic arch.


    "It¨Cshe?¨Csaid that this zone was a reflection of your mind," he started slowly, measuring out each word. "She said you knew more of these tombs than any other. That you could show me the truth."


    You truly didn''t hold back, did you Aurora? I thought. Considering how close I was to reaching the Beyond, however, I could understand giving away my secrets to keep me alive.


    A silence stretched between us after the white-haired striker asserted my Bond''s promise. Sevren''s lifeforce flared even further.


    He thinks I''m going to deny him, I realized. He doesn''t trust me to follow through.


    "We spoke several times," I started, "Comparing these Relictombs to a trial."


    I walked forward, looking closer at the portal frame and brushing my hands along the stone. I couldn''t sense the aether within like Arthur would eventually be able to, but that wasn''t what I was searching for. I traced my hands along the rim, trying to mesh my mind with my heartbeat as I searched for something.


    The stone was surprisingly coarse. It matched the concrete aesthetic around us, blending in seamlessly with the zone. The runic markings had faint imprints in the frame where purple light seeped out.


    "That''s only part of the truth," I said. The Denoir heir listened with rapt attention, his mana strung like a bow. I finally found what I was looking for as my palm hovered over some of the runes. A strange, dormant pulse thrummed just like the heartfires all around me, except it radiated from solid rock instead.


    I stepped away from the frame with a light smile on my face. "Do you know what the ancient mages called themselves?"


    "No," Sevren replied after a minute. "No matter where I searched or how deep I delved, I found no name for such a powerful civilization. It was as if it was expunged from all our histories."


    "They were the djinn," I said, turning to give Sevren a piercing stare. "They were a people of life and progress. And these Tombs?" I added, gesturing to the skies. "This is their Legacy. A compendium of working knowledge and insight condensed from the very fabric of Entropy. Everything these great people once knew and understood of the fabric of reality is woven into these zones."


    I turned away from Sevren, who had gone stiff from my words. I laid my hand on the portal frame, right over where the pulsing heat of a heartbeat thrummed to only my ears in the dead stone. I called on my own lifeforce.


    It wasn¡¯t like manipulating mana, where the strength of will and the power of your mind forced the world to bend to your whims. It was more akin to how my intent pressed subconsciously into the atmosphere with every emotion. I needed to know what I felt; why I felt a certain way, to make use of this power.


    I needed to know myself on the most fundamental of levels.


    My heartfire responded in sympathy, coursing up my veins and making them wash with heat. My hands felt aglow with energy as my lifeforce seeped from my fingers, each mote the color of a waxing dawn.


    ¡°Each of these zones isn¡¯t just a trial,¡± I said, feeling breathy. ¡°These dimensions are teachers, and we the students. If we wish to understand aether as the djinn did, we must be able to listen and decipher.¡±


    The motes of aether on my fingertips¨Cdrawn from the very nexus of my heart¨Csank into the stone where I felt the heartbeat. For a moment, nothing happened. The air felt as electric as ever, but the charge hadn¡¯t decided to go to the ground.


    And then the portal responded. A rune fuzzed into existence on the portal frame, shimmering with orange-purple as it flared with power. A stylized heart¨Cnot the cartoonish kind, but a true depiction of the organ¨Cflashed and groaned.


    A single dot of purple spatium sparked in the center of the frame, before expanding rapidly and settling into place. I exhaled with a slight smile as the portal activated, providing us all a way out.


    I¡¯d proven something to myself. Whatever test the maddened djinn had rambled of in that town zone, I had the distinct sense that I¡¯d passed.


    You said they made a test for me? To grant me insight? I thought with relish. Look and see. I¡¯ve taken the hell you¡¯ve shown me and molded it into something beautiful.


    I stepped back, my breathing heavy. Not from exhaustion, but adrenaline. I still didn¡¯t know the ins and outs of this new power of mine, but I had time to learn what was possible.


    I turned around, expecting to see only Sevren¡¯s waiting form.


    Instead, I saw Darrin Ordin¡¯s expression of disbelief as he stared at the portal, something dark churning in his eyes. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 100: Descent

    Toren Daen


    I froze as I saw Darrin Ordin, feeling a wave of apprehension. How much had he heard of my revelations? Not much, I was sure. I¡¯d turned to gauge Sevren¡¯s reaction earlier in my demonstration and Darrin hadn¡¯t been there. In channeling my lifeforce and focusing so intently on the slight thumps from the stone, I¡¯d inadvertently tuned out the other sources around me, allowing the mage to approach without my notice.


    Darrin looked from the portal, to me, and then back to the portal with wide eyes. ¡°You activated it?¡± he said questioningly. ¡°How?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond. Truthfully, I¡¯d acted on instinct and impulse in the heat of realization. I¡¯d understood the djinn¡¯s intended insight in this zone; at least part of it. Without the constant intent threading every heartfire, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to see the right path to call on my own. So, realizing that I needed to use that new insight in some fashion to push us onward, I activated the portal.


    Darrin walked toward the portal, ignoring Sevren¡¯s worried glances. He looked it up and down as I had before, a strange sort of weight settling on his shoulders. I took the moment to examine the leader of the Unblooded Party.


    His clothes were burned and caked with blood and grime, torn in countless other places. His blonde hair, which he kept in a windswept sort of part, was drenched in the blood of his lover.


    ¡°You figured it out,¡± he said, his voice seeming distant. ¡°How to get us out of here¡­¡± He paused. ¡°No, not just that. The food as well, back near the start. You knew immediately where to go to get us fed. Knew how to use those elevators. How to use all those strange appliances in our base.¡±


    I clenched my fists.


    ¡°Is this place¡­¡± Darrin seemed to choke on the words. ¡°You¡¯re familiar with it. More than any of us were when we first entered.¡±


    The broken striker turned to me, a silent plea in his eyes. ¡°Why?¡± he whispered. ¡°Why did the Relictombs do this to us? To Dima? You know so much of this place.¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond; to formulate some kind of lie or excuse. But no words came out. I tried and tried to force myself to give the desperate man some kind of answer.


    Darrin¡¯s eyes slowly widened. ¡°No,¡± he said quietly. ¡°You don¡¯t know of this place. This place¨Csomehow¨Cknows of you,¡± he said.


    I shut my mouth slowly, turning back toward the portal. I tried to focus on the rhythm of my heart. It would calm me; bring me back to tempo. Except the thundering thump-thump-thump of Darrin¡¯s accelerating heartbeat tugged at my ears, demanding attention.


    Then the man said something that made me feel as if I¡¯d been punched. ¡°The Relictombs adapt to those ascending,¡± he said with a stutter, seeming to say the words as they came to him. ¡°Stronger enemies. More complex puzzles. Maybe an extra boss. But you¡¯re not just a stronger ascender.¡±


    Piercing green eyes seemed to stare into my soul. I saw it there out of the corner of my eye. Darrin¡¯s face begged for me to deny him. ¡°Tell me I¡¯m wrong,¡± he whispered. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re not the reason this zone was hell. Please!¡±


    I closed my eyes, welcoming the darkness that my eyelids gave me. I wanted¨Cneeded¨CAurora right then. I needed the warmth she brought to my every thought. The calm, certain surety she gave with her every sentence, as if she were an unweathered stone standing strong in a hurricane.


    But only silence greeted my unspoken plea.


    ¡°Merciful Vritra,¡± he cursed. ¡°You don¡¯t deny it,¡± Darrin said breathily. Sevren stepped forward, tension to his shoulders as he sensed the storm brewing. ¡°Your presence here¡­ it caused all of this. I don¡¯t know how. But it did.¡±


    The Denoir heir wasn¡¯t fast enough. Darrin launched himself at me, grabbing what was left of my collar in a clenched fist. I saw what was coming next: even exhausted, my new physique heightened my reflexes and perception beyond what it had been. A sloppy uppercut was approaching my jaw. I could¡¯ve dodged it.


    My teeth slammed together as the leader of the Unblooded Party cracked his knuckles against my chin. I saw stars as I toppled backward, falling to the concrete below. My body creaked in protest as I hit the ground, but Darrin was fast. He straddled my chest, raising a bloodied fist over my face with a savage, bestial snarl.


    ¡°All those people!¡± he cried in anguish, only half a man. He brought his knuckles down on my face again. My vision flashed with red as my own blood sprayed. ¡°All those ascenders I tried to save!¡± Another blow. ¡°All of them ripped apart by those undead!¡± My cheek cracked to the side as the leader of the Unblooded Party laid into me. I dimly registered Sevren trying to wrench the maddened mage off of me, but he was just as exhausted as the rest of us. He didn¡¯t have the strength.


    ¡°Alun! Jameson! Mralka! Did they mean nothing to you?!¡± a voice said from above me, Darrin¡¯s usual playful tone stretched thin from sorrow. ¡°And Dima!¡±


    The next blow made my head crack against the concrete. My own red blood sprayed over the stone, coating it crimson. My consciousness flashed; the instinctual urge to fight back rising in my chest like the basilisk Aurora had purged not long ago.


    But I shoved it down.


    Then the punches stopped. I coughed up a mouthful of blood, feeling dazed.


    ¡°Get off of him!¡± a familiar voice screamed above me. ¡°You crazy bastard! Leave him alone!¡±


    Jana stood guard over my battered body, warding off the broken striker. Sevren and Jared worked in tandem to haul Darrin away by his arms. Beside the one-handed shield, the Frost twins glared icy fury toward the leader of the Unblooded Party. Darrin thrashed at the mages holding him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand?¡± he yelled in a shattered voice. ¡°It¡¯s his fault this zone was so wrong! That¡¯s why we lost so many people! Every commander¨Cevery dead mage¨Cit¡¯s because of him! Dima is nearly dead because of his selfish ascent!¡±


    I groaned, feeling the aches in my face. There was a cut over my brow that bled a steady stream down into my eye, tainting everything I saw a shade of red. Once Jana was sure Darrin was safely away from me, she knelt down beside me, an expression of utmost worry stretching across her bronze-kissed face. ¡°Toren, do you need¨C¡± Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I waved off her help, standing with difficulty. My vision swam from the movement, but I forcefully reoriented. The Frost twins kept their pale blue eyes focused on Darrin¡¯s near-rabid form.


    ¡°By the Sovereigns, Darrin,¡± Jared said, the paunchy shield grunting from the effort of holding back his leader. ¡°What in the hells has gotten into you?!¡±


    Darrin wrenched his arm free of Sevren and Jared, whirling on the shield with clenched fury. He jabbed a bloody finger at me¨Cone that was clearly broken from beating me into the ground. ¡°Toren Daen caused this zone to be so hellish,¡± he snarled. ¡°He¡¯s already had knowledge of so much here. An instinctual understanding of everything here. But then he just lit the portal!¡±


    Darrin¡¯s words seemed to snap most of these people from their stupor, their eyes darting to the portal with expressions of shock.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t prove anything,¡± Sevren said, out of breath from trying to keep Darrin back. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense how those things correlate, Ordin,¡± the heir to the Denoirs continued, lying through his teeth. ¡°It¡¯s true the Relictombs adapt to those who go through them, but that¡¯s only when people enter. There¡¯s never been a zone that adapts in advance. That¡¯s foolish.¡±


    Darrin straightened, staring down the white-haired striker with contempt. ¡°So that¡¯s how it is, is it?¡± he said, dismissing Sevren¡¯s argument. ¡°That¡¯s all it ever boils down to. Highbloods kicking those who are weaker and protecting the perpetrators. I thought you were different, Lord Denoir. But you saw it too, didn¡¯t you? Saw his guilt? And you¡¯re defending him.¡°


    Sevren visibly flinched.


    Darrin turned to me again, condensed hatred in his eyes. I knew that fury. I understood it.


    Hadn¡¯t I directed that same righteous fire toward Kaelan Joan?


    ¡°And now the highbloods are defending you, too, Toren,¡± Darrin said, staring down the Frost twins. ¡°You¡¯ve picked your side, then.¡±


    Jared looked at me apologetically, seeming unsurpassingly uncomfortable. If that scarred eye of his could wince, I¡¯m sure it would. ¡°Look, Darrin, we¡¯ve been through a lot in these past few days,¡± he tried slowly. ¡°Maybe we just need to wait a bit to¨C¡±


    Darrin scoffed, shoving past the shield. Alandra was watching everything with shell-shocked eyes, tears gathering at the edges of her vision. Darrin ignored her as he knelt by the camp, scooping up Dima¡¯s body into his arms. He turned back, and some of that anger had quieted. Not extinguished; but it became more focused.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± he said through clenched teeth. ¡°Follow me if you want. But I¡¯m done with the Relictombs.¡± He marched up to the purple portal, sparing me one last hate-filled glare before stepping through.


    That seemed to shock Alandra and Jared into action.


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    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, kid,¡± Jared said apologetically, hastily trying to pack up. If they waited too long, their simulets wouldn¡¯t allow the entire party to exit from the same descension portal. ¡°He¡¯s been cooped up here for too long; fighting too many battles. The stress seems to have finally gotten to him. I¡¯ll send you some funds to treat those wounds he gave you, yeah?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I heal pretty well.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll come around eventually,¡± Jared said as Alandra mutely shuffled him toward the portal. ¡°Okay, kid? I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I¡¯m sorry, too, I thought numbly, watching them vanish into the flat disc of purple.


    Jana turned abruptly once the entire Unblooded Party had left, looking me up and down. She raised a hand to my face¨Cher only hand¨Cbut I gently pushed it away. There was a complicated expression on her face as I did so.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I lied. ¡°It will heal.¡±


    ¡°But you should at least get a bandage for that cut,¡± she tried. ¡°It¡¯s bleeding badly.¡±


    I sighed, withdrawing a few items from my dimension ring. I separated myself from the rest of the mages, settling myself down on a nearby stone as I began to bandage my head.


    Hraedel was the only man who hadn¡¯t jumped to split up the altercation between Darrin and me. He was sitting around an old campfire, staring mutely up at the desecrated skeleton of the serpent.


    Sevren sat next to me a moment later. ¡°You could heal yourself with that¡­ insight you gained, couldn¡¯t you?¡± he whispered. ¡°Vivum.¡±


    Once I finished taping a small pack of gauze to my forehead and wiping the blood away from my face, I reached down to the ground, where a discarded hand mirror lay. Alandra had probably forgotten it in her haste to leave.


    I looked into my own reflection for the first time since my Sculpting. There weren¡¯t that many differences, actually. I had a single tuft of hair that was a deeper red than my normal golden shade, which then tapered to a silvery pink. And my eyes had changed, too. Instead of the old hazel I had known across my entire life, now my pupils were the same burning orange that they took on whenever I engaged my Will. Despite how they looked like they might contain a bonfire, the light inside was closer to a candle.


    ¡°I could heal it all,¡± I acknowledged solemnly. Parts of my face were bruising, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as I¡¯d expected. Despite still being mostly human, my new physique held up well against a beating. ¡°But then it wouldn¡¯t scar.¡±


    Those words cut off Sevren¡¯s next question. We sat in solemn silence for a few more minutes as Jana and the Frost twins prepared to leave, packing their bags into their dimension rings. I caught a few disgruntled mutters from Bered about the lack of relics, but it didn¡¯t have the heat I might¡¯ve expected.


    Once they finished, the twins surprised me by approaching Hraedel. The old caster was mostly unresponsive as they prodded him to get up and move, his mind broken in a fundamental way. They led him toward the portal with surprising care.


    The twins gave me solemn thanks for figuring out the portal before stepping through the shimmering pane of purple. Jana¡¯s eyes lingered on me for a few moments longer, some undiscernible emotion there, before she finally stepped into the portal herself.


    Now it was only Sevren and I alone in this zone.


    ¡°Why do you want to know of the Relictombs?¡± I asked. I suspected I knew the answer, but I needed to have my own thoughts and ideas confirmed for once.


    Sevren spared me a glance, then looked forward. ¡°I told you once of my sister, didn¡¯t I?¡± he said.


    ¡°Caera?¡± I replied. ¡°You mentioned her once.¡±


    Sevren ran his hands over his knuckles, a quiet fear suffusing his bones. ¡°I do all I do because of her,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°She¡¯s adopted, you see. Supposedly, she might manifest Vritra blood.¡±


    His words seemed to derail his own thoughts for a moment, causing him to look at me. ¡°Wait, when that being possessed you¨C¡±


    ¡°My Bond,¡± I filled in.


    ¡°--Your Bond,¡± Sevren continued, ¡°You used soulfire. Or at least it looked like you did.¡±


    I huffed, hearing the unspoken question. ¡°I don¡¯t have Vritra heritage. Not anymore. It was purged.¡± I tapped my chest, my fingers tracing over the messy scar over my heart. ¡°With your dagger as part of the catalyst.¡± I¡¯d pieced that much together about the First Sculpting.


    Those words seemed to buoy Sevren¡¯s mood more than I expected. ¡°That tainted blood can be removed?¡±


    I closed my eyes, feeling a measure of sadness for what I was about to say. ¡°It¡¯s probably impossible to do for your sister,¡± I said. ¡°My circumstances are very, very unique.¡±


    Furthermore, my basilisk manifestation had been partial and recent when Lady Dawn had cast her spell. I suspected the manifestation hadn¡¯t ¡®set in,¡¯ so to speak, like a pot of clay that hadn¡¯t yet dried and was still malleable. That likely made it easier to affect. But for Caera, who had manifested her blood years ago?


    The Denoir heir¡¯s shoulders slumped slightly, but he forged onward anyway. ¡°Caera is no more than a pawn,¡± he said quietly. ¡°And that¡¯s all she¡¯ll ever have the chance to be in this world if I don¡¯t find a way to give her something more. And with aether, anything is possible.¡±


    I forced back the urge to smile. At first, I thought Sevren¡¯s story was one of innate tragedy. He would fail in his quest to decipher these tombs, consumed by a massive millipede in a zone. But the more I learned of this man, the more I realized he would¡¯ve been overjoyed with his sister¡¯s journeys with Arthur. So what if he didn¡¯t accomplish his dream? She would fulfill it in turn, making herself more than a pawn. I thought the young man would find that comforting.


    There was a quiet that stretched across the still balcony overlooking the lake. Without the constant undead tainting everything they touched, it was almost beautiful. I could imagine a perfect piece of art being painted from this solemn scene: two ascenders with more on their shoulders than they ever wished watching an otherworldly urban sprawl.


    Sevren¡¯s next words shocked me to my core. ¡°I have a relic,¡± he said quietly, as if the words would condemn him. ¡°I smuggled it out of the Relictombs a month or so back. I¡¯m making progress¨Creal progress¨Cin understanding its workings. But if I worked with you, maybe I would finally achieve something noteworthy.¡±


    It took me a moment to recover from my surprise. To steal a relic from the Tombs was punishable by death in Alacryan law. No, it warranted more than just capital punishment. One¡¯s entire Blood could be executed to set an example.


    And the fact that Sevren was telling me this¡­


    I exhaled. ¡°It''s a possibility,¡± I allowed. ¡°My understanding of aether, however, is very, very limited in scope. I cannot change anything in the air or water, only what resides innately within myself. And even then, I don¡¯t know the full extent of these abilities.¡±


    I turned to the Denoir heir. ¡°But I¡¯ll try. You¡¯re right about something, Sevren Denoir. With aether, the impossible becomes possible.¡±


    Even reincarnating a man into a world he believed to be fiction.


    ¡ª


    Not that long after, Sevren and I stepped through the portal. There was a chance we¡¯d arrive at some random descension portal in the middle of nowhere, as Arthur had after his first ascent, but ninety-five percent of the time, an ascender wound up exactly where we did.


    I stepped back into the second layer of the Relictombs, the familiar bustling noise calming me in a way. I had made it through that ascent alive. My limbs were all attached, my core was nearly silver, and I¡¯d gained an understanding of lifeforce I wouldn¡¯t have otherwise thought possible. This should have felt like a victory.


    Instead, my descent was soured by the knowledge that I¡¯d hurt one of the only good men I¡¯d met in this world. Darrin Ordin deserved better than what my actions allowed him, and I would need to live with the consequences of my changes.


    Sevren stepped out behind me a bare moment later, inspecting the lobby. After a woman came by with an inquirer to scan us for relics, we were allowed on our way. With a nod, we began walking toward a specific line near the middle of this specific platform.


    The white-haired striker and I settled in to wait at the end. It moved forward at a tired pace, mages depositing their accolades into specialized cutouts which retracted further into a building, where mages would eventually gauge their worth.


    As I settled in to wait, remembered what the inquirer looked like: almost like a dark pocket watch, which the mages then hovered over our bodies like an old metal detector from my previous life. The connection formed in my mind a moment later.


    ¡°Say, Sevren?¡± I asked, genuinely curious. ¡°That detector compass of yours looks an awful lot like an inquirer, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    The Denoir heir shot me a look. ¡°It did,¡± he said a bit sourly. ¡°Except after what your Bond did, it exploded in my hands. Probably from¡­ energy overload,¡± he said, using a careful choice of words when there were so many mages around.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I replied, feeling guilty even though I shouldn¡¯t have. ¡°Can you make a new one?¡±


    Sevren sighed, crossing his arms. ¡°Maybe. The ingredients were rare and expensive. But I think what I gained was worth that loss at least.¡±


    I turned my eyes back to the line. We were almost to the front.


    That was when several familiar mana signatures popped into my perception, moving in a rigid formation. I turned toward their direction, feeling surprised that they were all together.


    Vaelum was near the front, the spear-wielding striker moving with steady purpose. Beside him was his godfather, Aban, the mage walking with surprising deftness despite his age. His graying hair seemed to have a vitality I couldn¡¯t remember.


    A few other mages I remembered marched in a half-circle formation behind those two. I recognized the shields that had saved me in my last attack against the Joans amidst them. Near the very back was a familiar mossy-haired mage who had a bad habit of ¡®accidentally¡¯ following me.


    All of them wore a light grey surcoat over their armor and clothes. Emblazoned across the breast was a simple round-bottom beaker that looked partially filled.


    The sigil of Bloodstone Elixirs.


    And at the center of this formation was an unfamiliar woman. The moment my eyes landed on her, she seemed to sense it, her serene gaze snapping to my own and holding it like a vice. While the mages around her marched in perfect formation, this woman glided across the ground as if it were a cloud. It reminded me eerily of Lady Dawn¡¯s regal bearing.


    Mages moved out of the way of the formation as it sheared through the crowds, the group slowly but steadily parting the sea of people. All the while, my gaze stayed locked with the dark eyes of the mysterious woman at their center.


    Soon enough, the group reached us. Aban and Vaelum stopped first, the former giving me a grandfatherly smile and the latter a stern nod before they parted like a curtain. The woman they escorted stepped forward barely a moment later.


    Now that she was closer, I was able to get a better look at her. Her hair was a midnight black that stretched down to her mid-back, streaked through with splashes of navy. Her skin was almost deathly pale, and if it weren¡¯t for the fullness of her petite form, I was certain she¡¯d look like a corpse. Instead, she radiated an aura that felt hard to describe as she scrutinized me.


    ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen, I presume?¡± she directed to me, her deep red lips barely curling at the edges. The woman wore a conservatively elegant dress as dark as her hair, which made her seem even more like the reaper come to take her due.


    ¡°I am he,¡± I said slowly, my mana thrumming at some sort of perceived threat. I couldn¡¯t explain it, but this woman felt dangerous in a way I¡¯d never experienced before. ¡°Though I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know your name,¡± I added, squaring my stance to something solid instinctively.


    The woman¡¯s demure smirk widened the barest of fractions as she observed my tense shift. ¡°It is unseemly to not introduce oneself first when approaching a stranger, so I must apologize.¡± She tilted her head, savoring my anxiety like fine wine. The only jewelry she wore was deep silver earrings bearing the familiar round-bottom beaker symbol. ¡±My name is Renea Shorn, leader of Bloodstone Elixirs.¡± Her eyes narrowed into piercing slits as she held my full attention. ¡°And I believe we have much to talk about.¡±

 Chapter 101: The Lost [End of Book 2]

    Arthur Leywin


    I maneuvered through a stone-shed battlefield, leading a strike team of able-bodied golems to assault the enemy position from their flank. The march up the hill was a slow and painful slog, made only worse by the slippery blood-like substance coating the ground and the stench of iron and copper that suffused my nostrils.


    As per my plan earlier, the majority of our troops were focused on a dual-pronged assault from two different avenues on the lower part of the hill. With so many of my ally golems focused on that front, it drew the attention of the majority of our enemies.


    But they still held the high ground. For every bit of blood we spilled, they shed twice the amount. The only way to win was to take this hill with minimal losses.


    So me and a select few elite golems, each bearing the symbol of the tri-union Council of Dicathen, were moving to flank their overstretched side. I stood at the vanguard, wielding Dawn¡¯s Ballad high as a rallying point. The golems above were aware of my trudging assault, but with our momentum, there wasn¡¯t much they could do.


    A few glancing spells arced toward my troops. I trusted the elites at my flank to tank the weaker ones, their shields raising intermittently to defend against blades of earth and spears of ice.


    A larger fireball caught my attention, however. I spotted it as it arced toward my small, compressed unit, recognizing the damage it would do if it landed. I flourished Dawn¡¯s Ballad, condensing a wave of ice and lightning mana through its length. Then I swung my blade upward, the teal weapon flashing white as it erupted in crackling frost.


    A wave of cold interspersed with arcing electricity consumed the massive fireball, continuing onward and disrupting the golem formation above. Sensing our chance, I raised Dawn¡¯s Ballad high, my blood pounding in my ears.


    ¡°Charge!¡± I yelled, letting my voice spread with the help of wind magic. ¡°Rip into their sides!¡±


    As one, a score of earthen feet slammed into the ground, a cascading reverse avalanche aimed at the heart of the enemy formation. As I streamed along on currents of wind, I imagined the fear in my enemy¡¯s eyes.


    It wasn¡¯t there, of course. Wren was a meticulous old bastard, but as realistic as he could make his golems, these always lacked something fundamentally human.


    But as I reached the top, I felt a familiar burning flare from the hilt of my sword. A stretch of orange-purple striations snaked their way up the tang of my translucent teal sword, bringing a light warmth to my hands as Dawn¡¯s Ballad reacted.


    Internally, I sighed in annoyance. Every single time this happened¨Cand it had been picking up in frequency these past few weeks¨CWren would halt my training entirely for a few days to perform tests on my sword. And of course, the wily asura wouldn¡¯t tell me what he was testing for.


    Predictably, every single golem stalled in place as one, creating a bubble of what looked like halted time. I alone still moved; the adrenaline rush and expectation of colliding forces simmering at the surface of my mind. That battle rush was something that I carried with me whenever I fought like this: the echo of steel-on-steel, spellfire arcing overhead, lightning spells coursing through the air making my hair stand on end.


    But then something different happened. The low burn of the hilt of Dawn¡¯s Ballad became that of a branding iron as it ramped up heat. Suddenly, the orange-purple streaks billowed upward, chasing away the teal and filling it in with color. I hastily thrust the blade into the ground, darting my hand away lest I get burned.


    This was different than last time. For the first time, I could feel the power wafting off of the thing. It felt strange and alien to my mana sense; brushing against my mind like a feathertip.


    Wren popped up from the ground a moment later, an almost maddened cast to his eyes as he zipped over to my sword.


    At least more maddened than was usual.


    ¡°What is this?¡± he questioned, circling my embedded weapon and ignoring me entirely. ¡°She¡¯s done something different, this time. Cast a powerful spell, maybe? No, that doesn¡¯t seem quite right. Certainly used more power than we normally see, but what?¡± Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wren Kain the IV, eminent Titan of the asura and my master for the past few months, devolved into muttering and mumbling as he whipped out a notepad and began jotting things down.


    ¡°Output is notably high. Increased by at least one thousand, four hundred and sixteen percent from the norm. But the waves emanating from the blade aren¡¯t uniform in their distribution as before. This seems more chaotic. Perhaps some sort of untested spell?¡±


    ¡°Wren,¡± I said warily, feeling tired of all this.


    The asura didn¡¯t seem to hear me, tapping his pen against his chin as he scrutinized the sword closer. It was glowing now with a strange sheen, seeming to mimic the scattering effects of light through the clouds during a sunset. ¡°This seems to be done with intention. If I gather the right data points, I might be able to track the point of origin¡­¡±


    ¡°Wren!¡± I snapped, my patience thinning. ¡°What in the hells is going on with my sword?!¡±


    The asura blinked, then turned to me as if noticing me for the first time. ¡°Oh, this? It''s none of your business,¡± he said, shoving his hand into a pocket and retrieving another pen of a different color. ¡°This is all very much beyond your control right now, brat.¡±


    I ground my teeth. I knew it wasn¡¯t wise to test my mentor, but if this were to keep happening, my training would stall immensely. ¡°Every time Dawn¡¯s Ballad glows with those colors, you halt my training for days at a time,¡± I said, trying to be reasonable. ¡°I think it is part of my business if I¡¯m constantly made to wait every time this happens without explanation.¡±


    The asura opened his mouth to reply. ¡°Do you lessers always make such a big deal of these things?¡± he asked with a groan. ¡°All I needed you to do is hold onto that sword of yours. It¡¯s more receptive to signals in your hands because you¡¯re bonded to it. That good enough for you?¡±


    I crossed my arms, raising a brow that told him, No, it¡¯s not good enough for me.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to train to be able to protect my loved ones,¡± I said. ¡°If my training keeps getting interrupted, then I¡¯m not doing the best I can. At least tell me why.¡±


    The asura shoved his hands into his hair, clawing at his roots for a moment as he swiveled, groaning in irritation. ¡°Why must you make good arguments, Arthur Leywin? All the other lessers I¡¯ve had the displeasure of meeting were sniveling brats. Much better, in my opinion.¡±


    He turned around again, a spark of something in those old eyes. ¡°There¡¯s this woman, see,¡± he started. ¡°From way back when.¡±


    Truthfully, I didn¡¯t know what I was expecting. But it was certainly not that. My eyebrows rose high enough that they probably met my hairline and my jaw gaped. This was about a woman? The asura seemed to realize what he¡¯d just said, his expression shifting.


    ¡°Shut that lesser mouth of yours, Arthur Leywin!¡± he said, glowering at me. ¡°You¡¯ll fill it with flies at that rate. Which might be better.¡± He waved a hand. ¡°Anyways, her name was¨Cis¨CAurora. Flighty old phoenix with a habit of trying to look as unbothered as good old Lord Indrath.¡±


    I slowly let my mouth close with a click. ¡°What do you mean was?¡± I asked, sensing his focus on that word.


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    Wren turned back to the glowing sword in the ground, a strange slouch to his shoulders. ¡°I told you I made Dawn¡¯s Ballad as a one-sword-fits-all weapon. But that was a lie.¡± The asura paused. ¡°I made that sword for her,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯m good at. Making weapons. Only thing I could do to try and impress her.¡± The asura seemed to be talking more to himself than to me at this point.


    He shook his head, his long bedraggled locks swaying. ¡°But I never finished the product. She vanished with her brother years ago somewhere in the Beast Glades for some unfathomable reason. Never figured out why. But I¡¯d already put the work in, so I left the sword there, hoping she¡¯d find it.¡±


    ¡°I thought she was dead,¡± he said honestly, the golems around us finally dissolving back into earth mana. Wren continued to stare at the orange-purple blade. ¡°Until your sword started shining, reacting to her actions.¡±


    He brushed a hand against the matte-black hilt of Dawn¡¯s Ballad. I was surprised when it came back burned. The asura seemed to gather himself, slowly putting his insincere mask back on.


    The asura turned back to me. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter to your training, does it, brat?¡± His eyes squinted. ¡°If you want to throw that squishy flesh puppet of yours at rocks all day, be my guest. Far from me to stop you from making your already short lesser life shorter.¡±


    He ripped Dawn¡¯s Ballad from the ground, then conjured another sword from the earth around us, tossing it to me. ¡°Your training won¡¯t be impeded anymore. Feel free to smash rocks again.¡±


    I barely had time to process the asura¡¯s revelations before the golems reformed around me, masking the asura from my sight. I thought I saw a single tear leave his eye as he stared at the sword, but I couldn¡¯t be sure.


    Darrin Ordin


    I took each step forward numbly, piloting my own body by force of will. My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides as I walked through the sparsely populated street.


    Dima had been sequestered in my estate with the best surgeons and caregivers that I could afford. But while I was certain she would live, the professionals I spoke to theorized she would never wake up again. There was nothing they could do except keep her body alive. As one nurse had stated, she was astounded the mother of my child was even alive.


    I ground my teeth, keeping my eyes ahead. For all my adult life, I¡¯d thrust myself into conflicts between highbloods and unblooded mages, providing them legal help and support where nobody else would. Throughout my several-decade career, I¡¯d never desired to be a highblood.


    They were too self-righteous. Too sure of their power. Too comfortable with using it on others.


    But for the first time in my life, I found myself desperately wishing I was one of those strutting nobles. They had the resources I lacked. The medical facilities Dima needed to wake up.


    I found my mind routing back to Toren Daen, a building, bitter anger sparking at the thought of the young mage.


    I had thought I¡¯d found a kindred spirit; one who cared for those beneath his station. I¡¯d deluded myself into seeing it with every desperate struggle he made in that hellish zone. I¡¯d convinced myself he cared when Hofal told me his story.


    I thought I¡¯d found someone like me, who was willing to stand up to the powers-that-be. But instead of selfless drive, Lord Daen was fueled by guilt. Guilt from all the people he¡¯d dragged to their deaths.


    But not guilty enough to keep himself away from the Tombs. He was the worst kind of man: the kind that felt remorse for their actions, but refused to change in the wake of their carnage.


    My knuckles still ached from where they¡¯d struck the young mage¡¯s skull, the little bones in my hand cracked and crushed from the impact.


    I took a deep breath as I walked, trying to force my killing intent back into my body. I couldn¡¯t afford to think of such horrid things right now. Not with what I was about to do.


    I finally arrived in front of my destination, looking up at the sign with nervous eyes. The sign at the entrance was clear enough in its words, but part of me still struggled to string them together.


    With an exhale, I entered the building. I navigated my way to a reception desk easily enough, and the young woman at the counter looked up at me with a pitying expression.


    I brushed that off. I knew I didn¡¯t look my best today. I had barely taken the time to brush my hair this morning, but the deep circles under my eyes and signs of exhaustion and grief hadn¡¯t vanished in the last day or so.


    ¡°I¡¯m here on behalf of somebody,¡± I said, my own words feeling alien as I forced them out. ¡°Dima Varigan. She went on an ascent not long ago, and was¡­¡± I forced the next words out. ¡°Wounded. She¡¯s unable to come here herself.¡±


    The receptionist put a hand to her mouth as she gasped. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m so sorry to hear that! It happens far too often to the good folks. Dima was a kind woman.¡±


    She was.


    The woman¡¯s face took on a more pinched expression. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t let you in here without explicit permission from the legal guardian. I can check to see if you¡¯re added--¡±


    ¡°Check,¡± I said, my voice coming out harsher than intended. ¡°My name is Darrin Ordin.¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes widened at my name, but she quickly got to work sifting through their records.


    ¡°Aha,¡± she said, reading over a sheet of paper with a sparkle in her eye. ¡°It says here that in case Dima Varigan is unable to resume her normal duties, Darrin Ordin is authorized to act in her stead.¡± The woman looked up at me, giving what she probably thought was an encouraging smile. ¡°I can take you to her right now if you wish!¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yes, please,¡± I said.


    The woman stood up, moving around the desk before gesturing for me to follow.


    As we walked, the carefree laughter of children brushed against my ears from a dozen rooms. Sparing them a glance, I saw young boys and girls playing to their hearts¡¯ content, pretending to be mana beasts or ascenders or whatever new thing they¡¯d heard in the stories.


    How long would that innocence last? I wondered dourly. How long can these children cling to their naivete in this horrid world?


    My own upbringing had been surprisingly dull. I¡¯d been raised on an old farm in the countryside of Sehz-Clar which bordered Etril. My parents taught me the traditional values of working the land and caring for one¡¯s neighbor. Far from any urban highlord influence, I was able to truly develop as a person.


    People are like the ground beneath your feet, Darry, my late mother had always said. Show them kindness and warmth with a bit of sunlight, and you never know what might grow.


    If only she had been right, this continent wouldn¡¯t be such a hellhole. Too often it wasn¡¯t flowers or wheat that sprouted under altruism but weeds and strangling roots.


    The receptionist stopped in front of a specific room, and then knocked on the door. A moment later, the weary-looking teacher of that room responded, opening the door to reveal a wide classroom with many desks arranged in a layered pattern. From a cursory glance, I could spot a dozen children looking toward the door with undisguised curiosity.


    ¡°Yes?¡± the teacher asked. The bags under his eyes were nearly as dark as my own, and his scruffy brown hair was thinning in patches.


    ¡°One of the parents of your students was wounded in a recent ascent,¡± the receptionist said quietly so only the teacher could hear. ¡°We¡¯ve got an emergency contact here hoping to pick her up.¡±


    The teacher blinked, then looked at me with a tired gaze. ¡°The name?¡±


    ¡°Penny Varigan,¡± I said, responding in place of the receptionist. I hesitated. ¡°Is she here?¡±


    The teacher slowly nodded. ¡°Pen¡¯s a good lass. It¡¯s a shame her mother can¡¯t make it. Dima was almost always here for her events and showcases. Not enough parents do that.¡±


    I grunted quietly in response, feeling quiet shame for not being able to say the same.


    The weary man looked me up and down again, before turning toward the classroom. ¡°Pen?¡± he called. ¡°Can you come up here? There¡¯s someone here to meet you.¡±


    I held my breath as I heard shuffling in the room. The kids in the room moved to allow someone past, but I couldn¡¯t see who they were from my point of view.


    But once she cleared the line, I knew immediately it was Pen. She had her mother¡¯s hair: a darker, dirtier shade of blonde than my own. Her features were like her mother¡¯s as well. She had a smaller nose that I immediately identified as Dima¡¯s. Her brows seemed just as expressive as my old lover''s.


    But then the girl looked up, anxious.


    The breath I was holding left my lungs in a silent wheeze as her eyes met mine. They were a bright, piercing green.


    My eyes. I could see Dima everywhere in the girl¡¯s features, but the eyes could only be mine.


    I put on a watery smile, trying to project my usual confidence. I was beaten, battered, and had more than my fair share of bruises under my wrinkled shirt, but if this little girl needed to see an invincible ascender, that was what I would be.


    The girl hid behind the teacher¡¯s leg, looking out at me shyly.


    Merciful Vritra, I thought. Even her shyness is like Dima¡¯s.


    I knelt down so I was closer to her height, hoping to draw the child out more. ¡°Hey, Pen,¡± I said, hoping I sounded encouraging. ¡°My name¡¯s Darrin.¡± I paused as the young girl peeked out with more open curiosity. Those green eyes were like a mirror of my own. ¡°And I have some news for you.¡±


    [End of Book 2: Twinsoul]

 Chapter 102: Bloodstone [Start of Book 3]

    Toren Daen


    My body tensed at Renea Shorn¡¯s words. I spared Sevren a glance from the side of my eye, and from what I could see, he wasn¡¯t reacting much better than me.


    I looked at the owner of Bloodstone Elixirs, trying to measure my response. I hadn¡¯t been prepared for this clash, and something about it felt distinctly confrontational.


    I wished for the dozenth time that I had Aurora¡¯s advice to guide me. ¡°I¡¯m afraid my friend and I, Sevren of Highblood Denoir,¡± I said, name-dropping the highblood heir to hopefully reassert my position, ¡°Are waiting to get our accolades checked.¡± I paused. ¡°Can this wait until we are finished?¡±


    People around us shifted and stared at the mention of Highblood Denoir, but Renea seemed utterly unphased. She tilted her head slightly, observing the tense heir to my side. ¡°Lord Denoir,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°Forgive me for not introducing myself to you first, as befits your station. But I have information that I believe Lord Daen would appreciate.¡±


    Sevren narrowed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve heard much about you, Lady Shorn,¡± he said. ¡°Even in the Central Dominion, your mercantile success is acknowledged. But Toren is correct. We need to get our accolades scanned.¡±


    Dark eyes flicked back to me. ¡°Understandable,¡± she said slowly and sympathetically. ¡°But I come with an opportunity, Lord Daen, one that I think you would be remiss to pass up.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be?¡± I asked, feeling a bit of genuine curiosity at her hinting words.


    Renea Shorn smiled slightly. Those pristine white teeth of hers, framed against the midnight black of her navy-streaked hair, looked like a light amidst the moonlit sky. ¡°Your hometown has been struggling against the Vicar of Plague for several weeks now, hasn¡¯t it?¡± she said, gaining my full attention. ¡°I believe there is something I can do to fix that.¡±


    ¡ª


    I walked with Sevren Denoir amidst Renea Shorn¡¯s escort retinue. Their lockstep march was perfect, and I wondered how much protection they truly were. Even though each of these guards had saved my life at one time, I felt imprisoned.


    We were walking toward some sort of cafe or restaurant in the Relictombs, following Renea Shorn as she directed us to a supposedly secure meeting place.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have agreed to talk so quickly,¡± Sevren said from my side. ¡°She was trying to get you to drop all we were doing. It gives more precedential power in whatever negotiation she¡¯s got cooked up.¡±


    I muffled Sevren¡¯s words with sound magic, creating a small link between the two of us. I ground my teeth slightly, knowing he was right. ¡°She knew what to say to get my attention,¡± I said. ¡°I told you I have enemies, Sevren. Mardeth has been coating my home with his shadow for far too long, and I don¡¯t have a way to get him out.¡±


    Sevren gave me a look that I couldn¡¯t read. ¡°I wondered what could¡¯ve damaged your dagger so badly,¡± he said. ¡°If you¡¯ve clashed with Mardeth before¡­¡± the young mage shook his head, his brilliant white locks swaying. ¡°Regardless, I¡¯d rather have Mardeth as a foe than Renea Shorn.¡±


    That got my attention. The leader of Bloodstone Elixirs didn¡¯t ooze power like Mardeth or command your attention as his killing intent required. Instead, facing her felt like squaring off against a snake in the grass. But surely Mardeth was a worse foe. ¡°Why do you think that?¡± I asked, wanting to know more. My knowledge of the woman was sparse and mottled. Sevren Denoir, being privy to highborn circles, probably knew more than me.


    ¡°When I said her exploits are famed, that wasn¡¯t an exaggeration,¡± he said. ¡°She¡¯s got branch stores of her potion company in nearly every major city in Alacrya. And their creation all followed a pattern: most of the would-be competition collapsed in on itself weeks before her own crew set up shop. I don¡¯t have proof, but rumors abound that she sabotages potential enemies before they can stop her, then sets up her own business as a monopoly.¡± Sevren ground his teeth. ¡°I¡¯ll try and offer any assistance I can. But the majority of Highblood Denoir¡¯s resources won¡¯t be given to me without a good explanation.¡±


    I frowned, turning to inspect the woman as she glided in front of me. She seemed to ignore the ground as a concept, instead floating over the stones as we navigated the higher-end parts of the Relictombs. I narrowed my eyes, trying to discern more about her mana signature.


    I couldn¡¯t sense it. That in and of itself wasn¡¯t so rare: there were many mages I¡¯d met with higher core purity than my own, but even then I got a sense of their mana in the first place.


    Is she an unadorned? I questioned, feeling a bit of disbelief. But that doesn¡¯t make sense. To get so high in Alacrya power structures without mana is impossible. Every device and interaction needs a drop of that energy.


    Something occurred to me belatedly as I focused on my sixth sense. All around me, the heartbeats of our guards¨Caudible to my lifeforce senses¨Cstreamed into my head. Even Sevren Denoir had a steadily pulsing heartfire I could hear. But not Renea Shorn.


    I had compared her earlier to the reaper in my head, but I found myself wondering as I realized I couldn¡¯t sense her heartfire. She gave my senses as much information as a dead body would.


    She must be wearing some sort of cloaking artifact, I realized. Something that hides her mana expertly and cloaks her heartbeat.


    Renea Shorn peered over her shoulder at me, meeting my narrowed eyes with her dark ones. ¡°I can feel your eyes boring holes into my back, Lord Daen,¡± she said lightly. ¡°If you wish to ask me something, the worst I could do is refuse to respond.¡±


    I paused for a moment, then forged ahead. ¡°The cloaking artifact you wear is powerful,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I was wondering why you feel the need to hide yourself so thoroughly.¡±


    The leader of Bloodstone Elixirs focused her attention back in front of us. ¡°You have keen senses, Lord Daen,¡± she acknowledged. ¡°Too many assume I am unadorned upon first meeting me. It is a useful strategy to shatter those expectations.¡±


    I avoided a loose stone in our path as I contemplated Renea Shorn¡¯s words. So she used it to garner false assumptions to destabilize negotiations? But from how the woman carried herself, that seemed patently false. She walked like someone with power. Even if I couldn¡¯t sense her mana signature, I knew from her grace alone she was someone worthy of attention.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t believe that,¡± I said after a moment, ¡°Considering how you present yourself, even without being able to sense your mana.¡±


    ¡°You are free to your opinions, Lord Daen,¡± the dark-haired woman responded smoothly.


    Even if they are wrong, her lingering statement was left unsaid.


    The cafe Renea led us to wasn¡¯t as ostentatious as I was expecting. It was almost quaint, but the inside was polished and furnished with quality art with tall windows that let in the light in sweeping panoramas. It felt too casual for what the woman in front of me was leading toward.


    Renea Shorn¡¯s guards were instructed to patrol around the area, keeping watch for any who might try and spy on our conversation. Yet I could tell immediately that Renea Shorn simply wanted privacy.


    Part of me felt disjointed sitting in this cafe. My body, though still mostly human, had accelerated healing from my djinni-phoenix roots and assimilated physique. Most of the bruises Darrin had given me had healed in the past few hours, but the deep cut over my brow was still obviously bandaged. And though I¡¯d changed my clothes since descending, they were of a notably lesser quality than what either Sevren or Renea Shorn wore.


    A waiting receptionist, clothed in high-quality garments that were tailored to appear casual, quickly and neatly led us to an open table. She sat us down, handing us menus to order from. I scrutinized mine with a raised brow, tapping my finger on the table in a nervous rhythm. At my side, Sevren kept his gaze sternly on our negotiating partner.


    They do have pancakes in Alacrya, I noted with mild amusement as I looked over the menu. Though they call them ¡®flatbread bakes.¡¯ I think pancakes are more accurate.


    Renea made a show of looking over the menu, letting Sevren¡¯s intense stare wash over her like water off a duck¡¯s back. She even sat with poise, her flowing dark dress not hampering her ability to maneuver in the slightest.


    As I scrutinized the menu, I used the time it gave me to try and consolidate all I knew about the woman across from me. She was the owner of a megacorporation that distributed elixirs and magical enhancements all across Alacrya. She¡¯d given Karsien the knowledge he lacked to actually start tracking down Dornar Joan as the target of his vengeance. Afterward, the woman gifted me Oath and Promise, though they had tracking spells imbued inside.


    And once I¡¯d shattered those, I had to constantly ward off the mages she¡¯d sent to follow me around and keep an eye on me. The last I¡¯d seen of them was in the aftermath of my fight with Mardeth.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She probably knows about that loss of mine against the Vicar of Plague,


    I thought, restraining a note of bitterness. I should expect her to bring it up.


    ¡°I enjoy this cafe,¡± Renea said, not taking her eyes from the menu, ¡°For its unique atmosphere. Every other place in the Relictombs tries to appeal to every base ascender, or conversely, to the rich and powerful alone.¡± She slowly closed her menu, setting it down in front of her with hands that looked almost delicate. ¡°But this quaint cafe doesn¡¯t attempt to do any of these things. It recognizes that there is a niche to be filled: that of calming, warm relaxation. It does not follow the examples of others like sheep.¡±


    ¡°And yet you led us here like a shepherd with their sheep,¡± Sevren said slowly. ¡°And I suspect you¡¯ll try and do the same with your words for my friend Toren.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s words were measured, but there was an undercurrent of bluntness to each spoken. Renea raised a dark brow at his statement. ¡°Friend?¡± she said, testing the word as if it were unfamiliar. ¡°Forgive me, Lord Denoir, but from your reputation, I was led to believe you did not allow many close to you.¡±


    Sevren spared me a glance. ¡°That is correct,¡± he said in response. ¡°But Toren is an exception. He¡¯s proven himself to me more than once in his sincerity in the Relictombs.¡± The white-haired striker pushed away the menu in front of him. ¡°Highblood Denoir will stand with him.¡±


    I felt a flash of worry at Sevren¡¯s promise. Though it was a bold declaration of his support, I wasn¡¯t adept enough at negotiation to try and piece together all Renea Shorn might learn from it.


    The woman in question looked mildly surprised at this. Not outright shock, but it seemed this was something she didn¡¯t expect.


    ¡°You¡¯ve taken noticeable measures for a while to track me,¡± I said, drawing the attention of both at the table. ¡°Starting in the aftermath of my scuffle with the Joans.¡±


    The woman smirked. ¡°Scuffle is an understatement, don¡¯t you think, Lord Daen? You wiped the Joans¡¯ bloodline from the face of the continent, including nearly burning their entire estate to the ground.¡±


    Sevren gave me a genuinely surprised look at that revelation, but I didn¡¯t let it throw me. I may not have Aurora to guide my every sentence, but she¡¯d given me tips and pointers on where I¡¯d gone wrong in my past negotiations, namely my first interaction with Karsien. I could do this.


    ¡°We both know the circumstances around that were more complicated,¡± I said sternly. ¡°And you say that as if you¡¯re accusing me of something,¡± I started, ¡°But the letter you sent congratulating me for the act painted a very different picture of your perspective.¡±


    Renea Shorn¡¯s lips parted. ¡°Very true, Lord Daen. I am more than happy to see their ilk washed away. It was fortunate you did so.¡± She moved her menu away, allowing it to overlap Sevren¡¯s. ¡°And please, call me Lady Shorn.¡± The woman tapped a finger against the hardwood table. ¡°Speaking of that letter, do you still carry my gift with you?¡±


    I grunted. ¡°They¡¯ve never left my side, Lady Shorn,¡± I said, then reached a hand down to my waist. With a few movements, I unbuckled Oath¡¯s sheath from my belt, then laid it on the table. The dark, rune-sketched scabbard seemed to drink in the light as it sat demurely on the wood. The silver swept hilt gleamed with the same pristine shine as the day I¡¯d received it, and the symbol of Named Blood Daen shone from the pommel.


    I¡¯ll need to make some changes to that symbol soon, I thought as my eyes roved over the magnificent weapon. I¡¯ve changed too much for it to match me perfectly. Sevren, seeming to understand what was happening, mirrored my actions, laying a sheathed Promise down beside it.


    Lady Shorn picked up the sheathed saber, slowly drawing it from its scabbard. She held it evenly in her hand, the hilt seeming to fit her fingers perfectly despite the differences between the sizes of our hands. She inspected the edge, noting the chip in the metal where the blade had rebounded off the serpent¡¯s core. She sheathed the blade again, allowing it to slide in without resistance. When she inspected Promise next, her brows furrowed at the marks Mardeth had left in the metal, but she made no comment.


    ¡°They are still fine weapons, even while tarnished,¡± she said, settling the dagger back onto the table. Sevren was quick to retrieve the blade. ¡°Have you given them names?¡± Renea asked me. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°The saber is called Oath,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°And the dagger Promise. I broke one of each before your gift.¡±


    Sevren paused for a split second as he strapped Promise back to his belt, something I couldn¡¯t read flashing over his teal eyes. Lady Shorn simply hummed. ¡°Good names for such a pair of weapons. They have served you well, I hope? Their creation was expensive, even for one such as myself.¡±


    I raised a brow, leaning back into my seat and crossing my arms. ¡°Since I destroyed the tracking spells embedded into them, I¡¯ve had no complaints with their effectiveness.¡±


    The waitress chose that moment to return, asking us for our orders. Sevren declined anything, while I asked for a platter of ¡®flatbread bakes¡¯ to go. I kept my eyes trained on Renea Shorn as she asked for tea. When the waitress left, the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs reoriented on me.


    ¡°You broke through those spells surprisingly swiftly, Lord Daen,¡± she said primly. ¡°You forced me to take more overt measures to keep an eye on you.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. Renea clearly didn¡¯t care that I took issue with being tracked, even after my rather blatant implications about it. ¡°Do you know how many times I threatened the mages you sent after me?¡± I asked.


    The woman smirked. Actually smirked. ¡°Three times that I recall,¡± she said demurely. ¡°And yet during none of those times did you actually follow through with the promised brutality.¡± She paused as the waitress delivered her a cup of steaming hot tea. Renea thanked the woman, then stirred the drink slowly. She lifted the cup to her lips, her eyes closing in an expression of bliss as she took measured sips.


    ¡°Though I highly doubt you could have followed through on your threats following what you experienced at the hands of the Vicar of Plague.¡±


    Of course she knew about that, I thought, trying to leash my irritation. I didn¡¯t do as good a job as I expected myself to, considering I glared daggers at the woman as she savored her tea with an expression of relaxation on her face.


    She set her teacup down on its little plate with a soft clink. ¡°Which brings us to our main topic of discussion,¡± she said, brushing a lock of midnight hair behind her ear. Her earrings sparkled, reflecting light. ¡°I am going to push the Doctrination from East Fiachra for their unlawful treatment of civilians over these past few weeks.¡±


    The surety with which Lady Shorn said the words took me aback. It wasn¡¯t simply, ¡°I will try to push them out,¡± or ¡°I will dedicate resources to try and accomplish this task.¡±Renea Shorn was utterly sure of her ability to oust the state-backed church of Alacrya from a position. And she didn¡¯t use political double-speak to mask that surety as I would expect.


    It took me a minute to formulate a response, everything I knew about the woman bouncing around in my head. She was a merchant, wasn¡¯t she? And with what she¡¯d done for Aban and Vaelum in the aftermath of the raid on the Joans, sweeping them into her retinue?


    I had a feeling I knew what this woman would ask for in return, but it was wiser to ask rather than assume.


    ¡°And what do you want from me?¡± I said slowly, looking the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs in the eyes as I did so. There was something deep and churning in her dark eyes that I tried to track back to its source, but it was too entrenched. Too embedded into the swirls of her pupils to try and pull apart.


    Lady Shorn returned my stare unabashed, her own eyes digging into my own. ¡°I wish for you to work for me, Toren Daen,¡± she said at last, which was exactly what I was expecting.


    I sat back in my seat, crossing my arms and looking at the table as I considered. Sevren took the opportunity to speak up next as I thought.


    ¡°It would hardly be fair employment if you use the lives of the people he cares for as blackmail,¡± the Denoir heir said indignantly. ¡°If need be, the Denoirs can exert some of their influence to pull Toren from this situation instead of your meddling hands.¡±


    Renea Shorn was unphased by Sevren¡¯s rebuttal. ¡°And how do you expect your family to treat Lord Daen any differently?¡± she said, the words freezing the man to his seat. ¡°It is true that I am manipulating the circumstances around me,¡± she said honestly, ¡°But would the Denoirs not draw your ¡®friend¡¯ into a cage of their own in return for their assistance? Do you think you could offer their resources without strings attached?¡±


    Lady Shorn leaned forward on the table, her eyes piercing the Denoir heir. ¡°Toren Daen is special, is he not? What do you think your parents will do once they catch a note of his uniqueness?¡±


    Sevren slumped in his seat, thoroughly admonished by the pale-skinned woman. I felt his lifeforce flare in tune with his rising heartbeat, the man clenching his fists angrily below the table.


    ¡°I provide a better option. Those who took steps to help Lord Daen,¡± she said, giving me a look, ¡°All are more than satisfied with their current positions. They earn more money than they ever have. They are treated more fairly than anybody they¡¯ve worked with before. And their future advancement is all but guaranteed by their work efforts.¡±


    My first instinctual response was actually to accept the shrewd businesswoman¡¯s offer. It was a simple solution to evict Mardeth from East Fiachra and drive him away. The people he had captured could be recovered with minimal losses, and that goal would be accomplished.


    But I let myself think. Despite the benefits it offered and the positive end outcome of the action, I¡¯d been too hasty in joining the Rats. I had good reasons to do so, but they were clouded over by my impulsive need to not be alone and get more information. Aurora had told me later that it would have been wiser to think it over more thoroughly.


    But joining up with Bloodstone Elixirs was different from the Rats. The latter was a thieving company bound by a common purpose for the betterment of others. Bloodstone Elixirs was a corporate monopoly spreading concoctions that strengthened mages and entrenched the power structure already present.


    Plus, under the umbrella of such a powerful force, would I have the freedom I needed to be an ascender? To show Sevren the truths I had promised? Or to grow in strength enough to eventually face Nico?


    I knew the answer to that, and it was no. I needed every bit of time I could spare to allow myself to grow stronger, and working a regular job and keeping myself accountable to another was not on the table.


    Further, my growth in strength had been exponential so far. Before I entered the Relictombs on my last ascent, I was sure the number of mages stronger than me across the world¨Cnot counting the asura¨Ccould be counted in three digits. After my Sculpting and eventual ascension to silver core, however? I was willing to bet that number would be under one hundred.


    It might take a bit of time, but I was certain I¡¯d be able to force Mardeth from my home with my strength of magic eventually, even if it would be difficult.


    But a deeper part of me simply didn¡¯t like how neatly Renea Shorn had corralled me into this position. She was a wise opportunist, spying a weakness and latching onto it like a predator. And I did not like that.


    I finally looked up, my decision made. ¡°I thank you for the offer,¡± I said evenly, ¡°But I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t accept.¡±

 Chapter 103: In the Temple

    Toren Daen


    A silence passed through the table as my words settled in the air. Sevren suppressed a widening smirk, but I knew him well enough to guess that he expected me to turn the woman down. I¡¯d turned down the full support of Highblood Denoir before. Why would I accept Bloodstone Elixirs¡¯ leash in place of his house?


    Renea Shorn, who had just brought her tea to her lips, paused. She froze as if she were a perfect machine, even her breathing seeming to halt. For the barest of moments, the woman was a statue frozen as if by aevum.


    Then time resumed, and the woman sipped at her tea with a measured pace. Her hair shadowed her face, and I had the feeling I¡¯d done something she hadn¡¯t expected at all.


    Lady Shorn lowered her teacup down to the tiny plate that held it once more, allowing me to see her eyes. I¡¯d expected anger there. Maybe disappointment or disapproval. After all, why would I deny such a generous offer?


    But Renea Shorn¡¯s eyes danced, her lips curling at the edges. I blinked, surprised by what I saw.


    ¡°This is truly unexpected,¡± Lady Shorn said, crossing her hands over her stomach. ¡°May I ask why you reject my offer?¡±


    ¡°I cannot be tethered to anyone,¡± I replied truthfully. ¡°My goals cannot afford it.¡± I paused, grinding my teeth. ¡°It will take time, but I¡¯ll drive Mardeth from my home by my own hand eventually.¡±


    Renea tilted her head. ¡°I think you misunderstand something, Lord Daen,¡± she said. ¡°Did I ever say my elimination of the Doctrination in East Fiachra depended on your employment in my service?¡±


    I frowned, leaning forward and resting my arms on the table. ¡°You said that, in return for you forcing the Doctrination out of East Fiachra, you wanted me to work under you.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lady Shorn said. Her smile was sly. It spoke of something she understood but I didn¡¯t. A grand secret I¡¯d missed. ¡°I told you I would drive the Doctrination from your home. Never did I say what it would require.¡± I opened my mouth, but Renea continued on unphased. ¡°You asked me what I desired from you, not what I desired in return for my help.¡±


    I closed my mouth, mentally going over the last few minutes of our conversation. I asked, ¡°What do you want from me,¡± but not ¡°What do you want from me in return,¡± I thought with an inner curse. The fact of the matter, however, was that the implication of my question was clear. If the woman was going to drive away the Doctrination regardless, then she leapt at an opening I provided like a waiting crocodile. Aurora would have a field day with my blunders here.


    ¡°Why?¡± I found myself asking. ¡°There is no way you get out of this without repercussions. Mardeth is insane. The fact that he¡¯s done this to the unadorned of East Fiachra at all speaks to that. What would make you take the risk?¡±


    ¡°You may choose to perceive me how you wish, Lord Daen,¡± the woman said, bringing her tea to her lips once more. Her brows furrowed as she withdrew the beverage, then pushed it aside. Absently, I realized it was no longer steaming. ¡°Perhaps I am simply a conniving merchant, trying to get the best deal. Maybe I¡¯m an opportunist recruiter, attempting to find the best and brightest mages to collect. I could be worse than the Vicar of Plague himself. But I¡¯ll tell you one thing,¡± she said, leaning forward so her hair cast a shadow over our table. It was long and dark, blotting out the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows nearby. ¡°Mardeth and I have had this dance for a long, long time. Perhaps, underneath it all, I simply think there are people out there it is worthwhile to defy.¡±


    For the first time since I¡¯d met her, I thought I saw flame in the pale woman¡¯s face. Her eyes carried a storm in their turbulent depths.


    ¡ª


    I walked behind Lady Shorn with careful steps, keeping my eyes peeled for signs of danger. The streets of East Fiachra carried a biting chill that nipped at my heels, but I didn¡¯t let it harry me. The people stayed in their homes, watching us with wary and guarded eyes from windows and alleys. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After leaving the cafe, Sevren explained there was something with his work he needed to check up on. Considering he didn¡¯t explain to me, even under a sound bubble, I suspected it had to do with his more illegal operations with the djinn relic he¡¯d hidden away.


    Renea Shorn had drawn an entire contingent of mages into what had once been less than ten guards in total. Now, we walked through the narrow streets of East Fiachra, an entire platoon of magic users making the ambient mana shudder and flow with their presence.


    I spotted a pair of vicars as they exited an alleyway, their dark robes cut near the shins. Their eyes widened upon seeing us, and without further ado, they bolted away, their dark robes billowing as they headed for their overlord to report our presence. The thump-thump-thump of their heartfires slowly left my range of perception.


    ¡°Are you just going to let them go?¡± I asked, my hand tightening on Oath¡¯s hilt. ¡°He will know we are coming now.¡±


    ¡°The Vicar of Plague would already know something was amiss from how my men are affecting the ambient mana,¡± Lady Shorn said, dismissing my concern. ¡°If his minions failed to inform him further, he¡¯d prepare to fight us on sight. And despite my plan to oust him from this place, it is not in anyone¡¯s interest that he unleash his power.¡±


    I looked around, noting the destitution this place still struggled with. The canals were empty of life-bringing water. The streets were caked with dirt and grime from snowmelt; no city workers to clear the refuse away.


    ¡°And how do you plan to oust him in the first place?¡± I asked. ¡°You¡¯ve failed to tell me that so far.¡± I looked at the mages around us, all walking in perfect formation in robes bearing the insignia of Bloodstone Elixirs. ¡°These mages you¡¯ve brought are powerful,¡± I said more quietly. ¡°I can sense it. But they would be like swallows in a storm trying to intimidate that vicar. So if that¡¯s your ploy, it''s dead in the water.¡±


    Lady Shorn was quiet for a short while. Along the rooftops, I spotted movement. Another heartbeat brushed against my ears as someone entered my range.


    Naereni, with her Rat¡¯s mask on, was crouching on a nearby roof and watching us march. She was extremely well hidden, and only my new ability to hear the emanations of lifeforce alerted me to her presence.


    We locked eyes for a moment. I tried to convey everything I felt at that moment to her: my surety, comfort, and hope that this would work out. I had things under control.


    ¡°Mardeth leaves traces with his work,¡± Renea said at last. ¡°In the aftermath of your battle with the vicar, I had my men gather the evidence they needed of his illegal actions here. You are right in your assumption: our force cannot intimidate him. But some powers can if informed.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re planning to threaten him with blackmail?¡± I said incredulously. ¡°He¡¯s proud of what he¡¯s doing here, Lady Shorn. It¡¯s not something he goes to great lengths to hide. His blithe circulates through this place even now.¡± I huffed, noting that Naereni was following us from the rooftops. ¡°And who would risk the Doctrination¡¯s scorn for unadorned?¡±


    I was more than willing to put myself in the line of fire for the people here, but the majority of citizens in Alacrya? Even those at the top? It would seem like the worst trade they¡¯d ever known: gain the ire of the state-led church and save a couple hundred unads in return. It was akin to saving a few homeless people and in turn, earning the murderous ire of the CIA towards you and your entire family.


    But Renea Shorn¡¯s next words struck the argument from my mind. ¡°Have you heard of Scythe Seris¡¯ October Decree made a few years ago?¡± she said.


    I nodded slowly. After Wade had made the offhand comment that Scythe Seris detested the blithe trade and made her comments about it known, I¡¯d done some brief digging into that section. ¡°I have,¡± I said as we weaved around a corner. I could feel the mana signatures of vicars, each coming in twos and threes, converging on the massive temple in the distance. ¡°Scythe Seris publicly denounced the production of blithe, claiming any who did so would face her wrath. Afterward, the drug plummeted in production within Sehz-Clar to nearly zero percent.¡±


    Except the Joans, I thought with irritation.


    My face twisted into an expression of disgust. ¡°Now the major problem is smugglers getting the drug in. That¡¯s a lot harder to pin down because of teleportation gates, dimension rings, and a dozen other barriers.¡±


    But I exhaled, feeling a spring of hope. ¡°But if Scythe Seris were to receive word of what¡¯s happening here, and personally intervene¡­¡±


    If it were anyone else, I would have felt the same wary disbelief at their desire to help unadorned mages. But Scythe Seris was different. Her long-term goal of uplifting the Alacryan people wasn¡¯t just limited to mages, but extended to everyone.


    My steps became a bit lighter as the thought seized me. My common assumption was that there weren¡¯t any in power in Alacrya who truly cared for those at the bottom. The reminder that someone did buoyed my mood significantly.


    ¡°Are you satisfied with my explanation, Lord Daen?¡± Lady Shorn asked.


    I spotted a vicar nearly trip over a jutting rock as he darted for the temple. I felt a smile stretch over my face. ¡°I am.¡±


    The refurbished temple loomed over every building around, casting everything in its grim shadow. The pristine peaks and silent dome, both of which had been in bad disrepair, now stood out as brand new. Effigies of basilisks, ascenders, and silent black fire stood on glass stained in shades of gray and red.


    As the platoon stood before the grand temple, I felt some of my reservations return. Before this monument of stone arches and cobbled domes, we were small.


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    After a short moment, the door creaked open slightly. A vicar I didn¡¯t recognize stepped out. His light hair was cut close to his head, revealing two tiny nubs that could almost be called horns stretching from his scalp. He carried himself confidently, each step undeterred by the half-a-hundred mages standing resolutely in front of him.


    ¡°Lady Renea Shorn of Bloodstone Elixirs,¡± the man said, his voice echoing outward into the chill winter air, ¡°On behalf of Mardeth, Vicar of this Subdoctrination, I welcome you to our steps. All are welcome to worship our Sovereigns in their glory and mercy.¡± The man paused, his eyes scanning our group. ¡°However, it appears you¡¯ve come to do more than worship, bringing armed soldiers. If you wish to enter the sanctum of the blessed, you cannot bring such a force inside.¡±


    Renea Shorn tilted her head, appearing to process the man¡¯s words. ¡°You make a fair point. If I were here to worship, this would be excessive. What is your name and rank, vicar? On what authority do you speak for Mardeth?¡±


    The man went slightly red in the cheeks at Renea¡¯s dismissal. ¡°Lordel, third-level vicar in service of the southern Dominion.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Know this, Lady Shorn. We cannot let an armed contingent into our holy place.¡±


    The dark-haired woman hummed, then answered. ¡°Of course, you could not,¡± she said. Her words came as if they were spoken to an unwitting child, making the vicar flush even further. ¡°But I believe I am entitled to a few guards, am I not?¡±


    The man looked ready to object, but whatever he saw in the merchant¡¯s eyes killed his retort. ¡°Certainly,¡± he muttered, turning around. ¡°Mardeth will greet you once you enter.¡±


    Renea looked to the side, pointing to the mossy-haired man I knew was her spy. I¡¯d learned¨Cfinally¨Cthat his name was Xander.


    Afterward, she addressed the large platoon. ¡°I shall be out shortly. Wait at attention for twenty minutes for my return. If fighting does begin inside or I am captured, you have my full authorization to assist or leave at your leisure. What we would face is beyond you all.¡±


    ¡°Lady Shorn,¡± I said as the woman began to move independently of the group, bringing Xander and another mage I didn¡¯t recognize with her. ¡°I¡¯m going to accompany you inside.¡±


    The woman¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°I do not remember selecting you, Lord Daen.¡±


    I ground my teeth silently. ¡°As the vicar from before said, everyone is welcome to worship,¡± I started. ¡°And I¡¯m technically not a part of this armed contingent, am I? I don¡¯t work for you.¡±


    The reward for my retort was only the slightest upturn of Lady Shorn¡¯s lips. Barely a smile.


    ¡°Do watch yourself then,¡± she said, turning on her heel and marching toward the massive doors with purpose. Her two bodyguards opened them for her, the massive oak doors groaning as they shifted inward. I pulled myself to her side, preparing myself silently for the looming confrontation.


    The layout of the temple was the same as it had been the only time I¡¯d been in it before. Pews lined a central aisle, leading toward a large stone altar that was watched by a judging basilisk mosaic. But now, a long carpet streamed from the altar down the center aisle like flowing blood. The rotting wooden pews were replaced with dark metal, and the only light was from stained glass and a few torchlit sconces on the supporting pillars.


    It was utterly empty inside, except for one person.


    Mardeth, the Vicar of Plague, was waiting by the altar. He was turned away from us, examining the mosaic that dominated the back wall. But I still knew it was him. Those ragged black robes. That blithe-mottled skin. Those horns seemed a grim mirror of those of the basilisk imagery I saw all around.


    I immediately felt my mana reacting instinctively at the perceived threat, churning in my core and fighting for an escape. My vision narrowed to the man in front of me, the memory of my utter desolation at his hands repeating in my mind like clockwork.


    Calm yourself, I told myself, feeling the vein in my temple pulse. You can¡¯t fight him. Not yet. You don¡¯t have the strength or means.


    Mardeth turned, revealing his murky gray eye and piercing other. They scanned us below, and when they landed on me, his dark lips pulled into a rictus grin.


    Focus, I told myself. Focus.


    Mardeth¡¯s intent was restrained, clinging to his body like a funeral shroud. But with the growth I¡¯d experienced in the undead zone, I could tell it was waiting to lash out like an animal. It was a typhoon shoved into a glass bottle, the cork ready to blow.


    ¡°Ah, little mage,¡± Mardeth crooned, his voice violating my ears. ¡°Do you wish for a rematch so soon? I¡¯m sure you remembered the lesson I taught you last time.¡±


    My hand tightened on Oath¡¯s hilt. I wished Aurora were awake. I needed her here.


    I forced a nonchalant smile of my own, though I knew it was strained at the edges. ¡°We have an offer you can¡¯t refuse. It¡¯s the best deal you¡¯ll get.¡±


    Lady Shorn chose that moment to speak up. ¡°Lord Daen speaks the truth. We come bearing an offer.¡± Her hair was as dark as Mardeth¡¯s horns, but in the light, it seemed brighter than anything in the room.


    Mardeth seemed to notice the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs for the first time. His face scrunched up into a snarl, his eyes narrowing. His intent finally billowed outward, crashing over us like a tsunami. ¡°Renea Shorn. I¡¯ve wanted to meet you in person for so, so long.¡± Green acid churned around the mage¡¯s twisted fingers, writhing like maggots. ¡°You presume to make me an offer? After all the hindrances you¡¯ve placed in my way?¡±


    I withstood the wave of intent with minimal effort, shrugging off the constricting effects with a subtle flex of my mana. While this wasn¡¯t the worst the man had leveraged over me, my understanding of intent¨Cwhich had grown exponentially in the undead zone¨Cprotected me from what had once been nearly crippling.


    Renea¡¯s guards shuddered in place, their eyes widening and knees shaking. Xander, surprisingly, tried to draw his weapon. His mana flashed with determination, trying desperately to throw off the suffocating effect. He was stronger than I''d given him credit for.


    Renea seemed utterly unphased by Mardeth¡¯s show of power, her dark hair shifting slightly in the wake of his power. Her words were clear and concise. ¡°Exit this city safely with your forces, leaving the people of this district to their lives without further malice, and you shall be unharmed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be unharmed?¡± Mardeth said, floating down the steps with growing power. ¡°I do not think you should be worrying about a gaggle of unads right now, Renea Shorn. You have far more pressing concerns.¡±


    I felt a lance of fear stretch across my body, preparing myself to fight. So quickly, this had already broken down. I wasn¡¯t confident in fighting Mardeth head-on, but if I grabbed Lady Shorn and ran¨C


    The dark-haired woman waved her hand with a flourish, a packet of paper appearing in her hand from a dimension ring. She tossed it to Mardeth, who was approaching with a menacing green whip in his hand.


    The Vicar of Plague stopped, catching the stack of paper. He looked over it shortly, then flared his power. Drops of gooey green mana ate through the material like it never existed.


    ¡°These reports mean nothing, Renea Shorn,¡± he said, though he stopped his advance. ¡°Meaningless proofs.¡±


    ¡°There is one who would find it interesting,¡± Renea retorted, looking up at the hovering vicar.


    Mardeth, since noticing Renea, had utterly disregarded me. Part of me wondered if his vision was as tunneled towards her as mine was to him. ¡°She won¡¯t risk High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s ire for a hundred nameless peasants,¡± he said with a dismissive sneer.


    ¡°Won¡¯t she?¡± Renea asked, tilting her head. ¡°The October Decree was forceful and real. Nowhere were nonmages unincluded.¡±


    Mardeth drifted forward once more. Sensing danger, I stepped in front of Renea Shorn, preparing to call on my Phoenix Will. ¡°Stay back, monster,¡± I hissed, feeling my blood boil.


    The vicar seemed to remember I was there for the first time, his one good eye looking me up and down. ¡°I told you before,¡± he said, his voice slimy. ¡°That I¡¯d use every person I have to make an example if you tried. She¡¯s here because of you, isn¡¯t she, little mage?¡± he said, his eyes resting on the hilt of Oath where my hand clenched. ¡°You¡¯re going to throw your life away for this wench? Throw away the lives of everyone you care for?¡±


    This close to the mage and with broadened experience, I could tell without a doubt the vast gap of power between Mardeth and me. I had compared Renea¡¯s mages to swallows in storms earlier.


    But I was just as much a small bird stuck in a gale too big for it. I would be ripped apart and tossed around if I entered that tempest. My wings would shatter. My cry would die in the winds, a songbird¡¯s broken echo.


    But my wings were stronger now.


    ¡°Are you so certain?¡± Lady Shorn¡¯s smooth tone cut through the simmering tension between Mardeth and me. ¡°High Vicar Varadoth provides you ample protection. But conversely, would he risk stepping in the way of a Scythe to justify your mistreatment of nonmages?¡±


    Mardeth turned slowly to the woman, observing her with a blank stare. The focused intensity made Xander and the other guard crumple, their wills finally snapping under the killing intent.


    ¡°You stand on a razor¡¯s edge, Vicar of Plague,¡± Renea continued, utterly unbothered by the waves of power wafting off the mage. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Is that blade thin enough to chance walking further? Or will you use that edge to cut your losses?¡±


    Their staredown continued for what could¡¯ve been a second or an hour before the vicar sneered. ¡°I¡¯ve found a solution,¡± he said at last. ¡°I¡¯ll kill every one of you here. I¡¯ll fill your bodies with holes and drip blithe down your throats. Without your minds, none shall hear of your paltry papers.¡±


    ¡°Touch a hair on the heads of any under my protection,¡± Renea Shorn said, sharp as a whip, ¡°And you bring your doom upon yourself. If I do not report the all-clear to my headquarters in an hour, my scribes will send copies of those papers to Scythe Seris regardless. With reports that Bloodstone Elixirs was directly attacked.¡±


    The Vicar visibly tensed, his eyes widening in anger.


    ¡°You¡¯ll regret this,¡± he said, hovering past us. ¡°One day, when you¡¯ve found yourself complacent and content, when you think you are safe, I¡¯ll reappear. I¡¯ll remind you of this humiliation. Of this confrontation. So when I tear down everything you hold dear, brick by brick and stone by stone, you can only blame yourself for your wretchedness.¡±


    ¡°We shall see,¡± Lady Shorn said, watching the man go. He drifted toward the wide doors, his killing intent receding as he angrily retreated.


    I let my shoulders relax for a moment, utterly in awe of what I¡¯d just witnessed. Renea Shorn had stared down Mardeth in the heart of his power and won without using a single drop of mana.


    Could I learn to do something like that? I absently wondered, feeling a strange tingling run through my tense muscles.


    I turned to Renea, opening my mouth to speak. To congratulate her? To thank her? To ask her if she truly did this without cost, maybe?


    But my mana sense blared in my mind, warning me against imminent danger. Acting on pure instinct, I whirled, putting myself in front of the almost petite owner of Bloodstone Elixirs. I threw out my hands, flaring my sound and fire magic.


    A large, condensed cannonball of green sludge impacted my hands, driving me back a foot and nearly making me collide with the shrewd merchant. I clenched my teeth as I fought against the decaying nature of the spell.


    But I¡¯d planned for this for a long time. I¡¯d rehearsed where I could¡¯ve done better; what my last failure was.


    Holding the ball of Vritra sludge, which continued to eat through my mana and seek my heart, I revved up a sound shroud around my hands. Though each speck of mana quickly decayed through my own spell, the vibrations made the giant glob of green goo separate and become less viscous. I partitioned each speck into smaller, easier-to-handle spots. And as the spell thinned, I used a burst of overwhelming fire to singe the rest away.


    I looked up, my teeth bared at our attacker. His spindly hand was still outstretched from his last attack, but instead of the rage that had painted his blithe-stained features for the past few minutes, there was a rictus grin like that of a corpse.


    ¡°You¡¯ve improved again, little mage,¡± he said, using that infuriating nickname. ¡°Maybe this wasn¡¯t a lost cause after all. Indeed,¡± he paused, his fingers twitching. ¡°This is just more pain you¡¯ve brought upon me. More fuel for my ascension.¡±


    I was ready to call my Phoenix Will to the surface, but Mardeth simply turned, floating out the doors after those ominous words.

 Chapter 104: Plague Doctor

    Toren Daen


    My hands flickered with embers and distorted buzzing as Mardeth casually floated out of the temple. Even as I felt the mana signatures of the vicars in the surrounding area converge and the tempest of Mardeth¡¯s heartbeat slowly receded into the distance, I kept myself grounded and focused on that door.


    When I was certain we were out of danger, I turned around. Renea Shorn gave me an arched eyebrow, as if to say, Are you done?


    Where before I¡¯d felt a strange sort of awe at her nonchalance in the face of Mardeth¡¯s power, now I felt irritation simmering. If that attack had hit her, I doubted she¡¯d be as reserved. She¡¯d nearly been turned into a puddle on the floor, and she still looked unphased.


    There was a line between confident and arrogant that this woman walked. I didn¡¯t know which side she truly belonged to.


    ¡°It seems we have work to do, Lord Daen,¡± she said, brushing past me without a word. ¡°Will you lead me to the warehouse where the people are kept?¡±


    I let out a breath. A little ¡°Thank you for stopping my face from melting off!¡± would¡¯ve been nice, but it was pointless in the end.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± I said, still feeling a lingering tingle in my palms.


    ¡ª


    As we walked, Lady Shorn split up the platoon. Groups of three and four were sent to scour the layout of East Fiachra, ensuring the Doctrination had truly vacated the premises. I couldn¡¯t see Naereni on the rooftops anymore.


    But a nagging thought was bouncing around in my skull. Mardeth had wielded the name of High Vicar Varadoth as a shield, clearly trusting in it to protect him from Scythe Seris¡¯ retribution. But I knew little about the High Vicar personally, despite the fact he was the head of the state church. Furthermore, he wasn¡¯t a character I knew of from the canon of The Beginning After the End. I didn¡¯t know what to expect.


    ¡°Lady Shorn,¡± I said as we walked, our numbers significantly smaller. ¡°Is the High Vicar such a force that he could match a Scythe in their own Dominion?¡± I looked to my side, where the demure woman strode with unnatural grace. ¡°He seemed to be the center of Mardeth¡¯s reluctance to leave.¡±


    Renea Shorn was quiet for a moment. ¡°Do you know the details surrounding the Victoriad a year ago, where Scythe Melzri¡¯s Retainer position was up for the taking?¡±


    I furrowed my brow. I hadn¡¯t been very aware of the political landscape of Alacrya as I trained with Norgan, so my personal knowledge of the continent¨Coutside of what The Beginning After the End wrote of¨Cwas irritatingly sparse. But I had heard of the upset that had happened.


    ¡°I know a little. Mardeth was in the runnings to actually become the next Retainer for Etril,¡± I replied. ¡°But at the final bout between him and who would become Retainer Mawar, he publicly withdrew, saying he¡¯d found something better to do.¡±


    Which was absolutely foolish, in my opinion.


    Lady Shorn nodded. ¡°Retainer Mawar bears a significant grudge due to that. It was a slap in the face to the validity of her power and position. Whispers will always circulate about what might¡¯ve been if Mardeth had fought her face to face.¡± She shook her head slightly. ¡°But that is beside the point. The Vicar of Plague¡¯s open dismissal of the Retainership as being worth his effort was beyond disrespectful. In fact, it bordered on treasonous. To so openly insult Scythe Melzri, and by extension, the Sovereigns who upheld the tournament?¡±


    ¡°So how did he make it out alive?¡± I asked, finding the unasked question. ¡°If he so openly spat in the faces of those immensely more powerful, what allowed him to walk away?¡±


    Lady Shorn¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°That is the question, isn¡¯t it? You¡¯ve found the crux of the matter remarkably quickly, Lord Daen. The truth is that Mardeth does have a protector: High Vicar Varadoth himself.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°He¡¯s powerful enough to intimidate a Scythe?¡± I asked, feeling a bit incredulous.


    ¡°In personal power?¡± Renea said. ¡°Maybe so. Maybe not. But Varadoth¡¯s strength isn¡¯t solely from his magic. He is called the Reformer, you know. Under his decades of administration, the Doctrination¨Cwhich had been on the decline for some time before his rise¨Cwas bolstered to greater heights than it ever experienced. His changes and restructuring of power put them back on the board as a political player that was to be feared.¡±


    I tapped my fingers against the hilt of Oath, thinking about this. Truthfully, my breadth of knowledge was far smaller than I believed. When the lifespans of the powerful could be measured in the hundreds instead of under a century, there were far more implications for each and every move.


    I hadn¡¯t even known that the Doctrination had been on the decline decades ago. Toren had only been a teenager when he died and didn¡¯t have nearly as much information and experience as he had previously believed.


    ¡°So the potential political retaliation of this High Vicar was enough to protect him from such a slight,¡± I said. ¡°With no repercussions at all?¡±


    ¡°He was exiled from his own home Dominion under threat of death,¡± Lady Shorn said nonchalantly. ¡°But he left with life and limb intact.¡±


    ¡°And became my problem instead,¡± I said with a sigh. The politics surrounding all of this was almost overwhelming. We continued our walk in silence for a few minutes more. ¡°If Scythe Seris were to be alerted of what¡¯s happening here,¡± I started, feeling a bit morose, ¡°Do you think she would truly act? Follow through on her principles to help this place?¡±


    I looked at one of the empty canals. No water ran through it. East Fiachra was an organ starved of blood, each of its veins carefully severed. This unneeded appendage was cut off from nutrients and allowed to wither on its own. And I could do a lot of rationalizing, but deep down I knew how little the people of East Fiachra could contribute to the economy. Magic was a wonderful, beautiful thing. Each pulse of fire in my hands and shimmer of sound I used was something awe-inspiring.


    But there was a darkness to that beauty. On a continent such as Alacrya, it became a smothering pillow that slowly starved those who didn¡¯t have the ability. It wasn¡¯t just Alacryan culture that denied East Fiachra life and love. It was magic itself.


    If High Vicar Varadoth was so powerful, would Scythe Seris actually risk her own operations for a measly sub-district? She had greater things in plan. A grand game in play to eventually topple her Sovereign gods. Would she risk that future for these few? I¡¯d thought so initially. But as I thought about it, doubts grew.


    Renea Shorn was silent for a moment. She seemed to be considering my question deeply; thinking on it more than I¡¯d seen her contemplate anything else. She observed the ragged streets; the dirty alleyways. The terrified eyes of children peered out of windows around us.


    ¡°I cannot speak for those so far above me,¡± Lady Shorn said at last, ¡°But I would like to think that Scythe Seris would bring justice to this place, even if it were dangerous to her own self.¡±


    I let her words sink in as we reached the warehouse. I felt phantom pains from the beating I¡¯d received inside. This place pulled bad memories to the fore of my consciousness. Of weakness and struggle. Of overwhelming fury and failure.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± I said, looking up at the warehouse. It didn¡¯t look special. ¡°The people are locked up inside in the basements.¡± I began to take another step forward, ready to enter and finally rescue those who had been locked up for a month too long.


    A pale hand on my shoulder¨Cone that was surprisingly firm¨Cstopped me in place. I turned, raising a questioning brow to Lady Shorn as she retracted her hand. ¡°You want me to wait?¡±


    ¡°Mardeth is sly,¡± Lady Shorn said, waving her hands to some of the remaining platoon members. ¡°He may have left some surprises in store for us. Better to be careful than rush in.¡±


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    I exhaled. She was right about that. I was acting partially on instinct and impulse, the closeness of my goal washing away other concerns.


    Lady Shorn ordered some of her guards to do a covert sweep of the premises, searching for anything that might be a trap. I watched them go with trepidation.


    They were gone for a surprising amount of time. The minutes ticked by in silence, but nothing happened in the mana that told me something was amiss. I began to tap my foot in anxiety as time ground my patience to dust.


    I opened my mouth, just about ready to suggest I should go in anyway when two of the guards Renea had sent in staggered out, their faces deathly pale. One of them stumbled to the side, arching over the grass and vomiting. The other simply leaned against the wall, sliding down so he sat with a blank, empty stare.


    I felt my instincts flare as I rushed toward the men, disregarding my earlier reservations. If there was some sort of poison gas trap inside, my healing arts might be the only thing to save these men.


    When I reached the one who was vomiting, I immediately prepared to diagnose him. Depending on the type of poison, he might be safe simply from vomiting out what he¡¯d eaten. The body was good at trying to evacuate harmful substances like that.


    ¡°What kind of poison did you encounter?¡± I said, kneeling next to the man and preparing my lifeforce. I needed to diagnose before I tried any healing. I turned to the man who had his back to the wall. ¡°Did you inhale it? Or did it enter the stomach?¡± The delivery method was important to discerning treatment. I didn¡¯t yet know the ins and outs of my healing power, but I could very well make things worse if I didn¡¯t ascertain the truth of my situation.


    ¡°No poison,¡± the one leaning against the wall said with a far-off stare. His face was slack as he spoke. ¡°No poison. Just¡­ just what he left behind.¡±


    The man vomiting finally voided what was left in his stomach, beginning to dry heave.


    ¡°It was horrid,¡± he said with a shiver. ¡°I¨C how could you do that to someone? They didn¡¯t look like people anymore.¡±


    A numbness spread through my muscles as the words registered with me. These men hadn¡¯t been poisoned. They¡¯d seen something horrid enough to cause these symptoms. They were shell-shocked.


    Renea Shorn moved beside me, giving me a searching look. ¡°How do you wish to proceed, Lord Daen?¡± she asked.


    I didn¡¯t respond, shoving my way into the warehouse. Where before dozens upon dozens of blithe crates had stacked themselves high, now the floor was barren. I ignored the fact that Mardeth had managed to smuggle away the rest of his product and made a beeline for the far eastern wall, spotting an open door.


    A set of dark steps awaited me when I peered through. Low light made the walk down appear to be a portal to the abyss.


    But the smell was what hit me first. With my heightened senses from my assimilated body and partial asuran physique, the stench hit me as hard as one of Mardeth¡¯s spells. It scrambled for attention in my nostrils, ripping and tearing its way up through my sinuses.


    It was a horrid mixture of excrement, death, and the stench of sickness rolled into a horrid fermentation. I¡¯d experienced horrid sensations in the Fiachran sewers. I¡¯d fought through utmost rot and decay in the Relictombs, the stench of death my companion at every corner. I¡¯d grown accustomed to it.


    I remembered that time in the depths of the lake in the last Relictombs zone where the massive serpentine undead had crushed me into its bulk. The flesh had nearly absorbed me, the refuse and rot entering my lungs and sinuses.


    Yet what assaulted my nose was worse than even that. I gagged, tears gathering at the edges of my vision. What the hell is even down there?


    I bolstered my body with a layer of mana, engaging my telekinetic shroud. The reinforcement around my nose made it easier to take the stench.


    I went down the steps, each clack of my boots on stone seeming to echo.


    When I made it to the bottom of the walkway, however, I finally understood. I felt nausea rise in my chest. My stomach churned at what I saw; my knees shaking as I took in the sight.


    A slippery voice half-remembered seeped through my skull like sewage. ¡°Pain is what drives us to our greatest heights,¡± Mardeth had said. ¡°Pain can only do so much before it breaks a thing rather than builds it stronger.¡±


    That voice cackled maddeningly as I fought to keep my stomach in check.


    Medieval torture racks and devices were strewn across the large room. Bloodied implements and decaying remains of their victims were left out to dry. Wheels and barrels and devices I didn¡¯t want to think about seared themselves into my skull. All around me, the aftereffects of Mardeth¡¯s torturing work made my eyes water.


    And the bodies I could see were twisted. Grotesque, yellow-green mutations bulged on the arms and limbs of the corpses. Some of those growths had clearly burst, spraying acidic pus across the room and melting into the walls and floors. Their eyes were all open in expressions of broken pain, even in death.


    I stood there for a long, long time, my mind drifting away as I witnessed the peak of cruelty. So many dead. So many tortured.


    I should¡¯ve come here sooner, I thought emptily, staring into the lifeless eyes of a young girl. She couldn¡¯t have been more than three years old. A hole melted through where her stomach should have been.


    Had I failed before I¡¯d even known? I asked myself mutely, my emotions fuzzy and distant. Is everyone already dead?


    But then a heartbeat reached my ears. I¡¯d missed it in the emptiness of my mind; glossed over it in the wake of the horrors I was witnessing. But now that I had latched on, I felt a spurring hope. There were at least a dozen heartfires that I could hear now. They were weak and waning, but they were alive!


    I forced my limbs to move, refusing to stare for too long at the mutilated bodies of men and women that were in my way. If I stared for too long, I might recognize a face. I might recall what I¡¯d done with them last; where they¡¯d helped me. So I kept my attention away. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I reached another door before long. Inside were a dozen men and women laid out on cots, each groaning and convulsing. My steps became hurried as I knelt by one of the women, looking her over and trying to identify her symptoms. I pulled the mindset of the surgeon over my emotions, for once seeing why Trelza did what he did.


    Each and every person here was covered from head to toe in blithe staining. They were clearly suffering from withdrawal symptoms, but there was something different about this than I remembered. Realizing I needed to act fast if I wanted to treat these people, I called my lifeforce to the fore, ready to try and heal.


    Before I had been hesitant to try and use my healing abilities on the guards for fear of making things worse. Yet for these wretched souls, there wasn¡¯t much worse that could happen at all.


    I could immediately tell the woman was dying. Her lifeforce sputtered weakly in tune with her labored heart. Thinking of what had happened when I let my healing become too overwhelming when I¡¯d tried to bring back Dima, I kept a measured distance, trying to stoke the unadorned woman¡¯s heartfire higher with my own. My hands glowed with the light of waxing dawn.


    With the experience I¡¯d gained from healing Dima, I was able to help, if only partially. The woman¡¯s breathing evened out and her lifeforce became more stable, but it was a temporary effect. I¡¯d pulled her from the worst of her symptoms for the barest of moments.


    Robotically, I pulled myself to my feet, trudging a few feet and numbly kneeling by the next cot. This one was another young girl. Her brown hair was falling out in patches, and she seemed to be the only one awake. She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes as I stood over her, but she made no sound.


    She seemed unable to even speak.


    ¡°I¡¯m here for you,¡± I said, my voice coming out hoarse and watery. ¡°I¡¯m going to heal you, okay?¡± I said, trying to convince myself as much as the girl. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll take the pain away. This will all be over soon.¡±


    I rested my hands over the girl¡¯s sternum. Her breathing began to quicken, terror suffusing her tiny body. But she still didn¡¯t move. I felt my heart twinge with pain.


    Something was wrong with her mana core¨Ceven unadorned were born with them preformed¨Cbut I couldn¡¯t tell what without deeper inspection. I exhaled, calling my lifeforce to the fore. The girl cried silent tears as the warm light of my hands seeped over her chest.


    The warm, peaceful light of my power slowly pulled the girl into slumber, her quickened breathing¨Clike that of a mouse in a trap¨Cgradually evening out.


    When I was done, I moved on to the next person in a regular flow. Each time I performed my soothing healing, I got a bit better at it. Yet the wounds and pain of each tortured soul were deeper than I could fix at my current skill.


    When I was done with the last person, I stood up, feeling as exhausted as I¡¯d been in the wake of the leviathan fight. My knees shook as I tried to stand, the weight of what I¡¯d been witnessing threatening to overwhelm me.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him,¡± I vowed. I felt angry tears blurring my vision. My voice cracked as I said the words, my limbs trembling. With rage? Or with guilt? ¡°I don¡¯t care that this High Vicar Varadoth protects him. I don¡¯t care that the church backs him.¡±


    I turned, feeling my mana roil even as my body threatened to collapse. Renea Shorn stood in the doorway, looking for all the world like the reaper come to take those who were close to the brink. Her own eyes had a haunted cast to them.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to break him for this,¡± I said again. ¡°He rants and rants and rants about pain, but he¡¯s clearly never felt it. Never experienced it. Or else he would never do this to anyone,¡± I said, venting my frustration. I felt the ambient mana warp and twist as I struggled to keep my power contained. ¡°I was wrong to wait so long.¡±


    Renea Shorn bowed her head, her shoulders slumping slightly. For all her seeming power and nonchalance, even she couldn¡¯t dismiss the horrors that had occurred down here.


    The chain on my arm flashed with red light as I forced back my emotions, walking out of the room holding the last dozen survivors out of over a hundred.

 Chapter 105: Song of Sorrow

    Toren Daen


    The mages employed by Bloodstone Elixirs took their time in retrieving those left living in the bowels of the warehouse. I watched numbly from the side with Renea Shorn, both of us silent at what we¡¯d witnessed.


    The guards were handling the situation worse outwardly. Some simply couldn¡¯t carry the survivors up, their hands and limbs shaking and their steps unsteady from the gruesome nature of what they¡¯d witnessed.


    It couldn¡¯t have been like this a few weeks ago when Naereni and Karsien scouted the place, I thought. They would¡¯ve said something.


    I wished at that moment that I was more like Arthur Leywin. He had the ability to just sequester his raging emotions away. Make himself apathetic and like stone when he truly needed to. But as I saw the blithe-mottled skin of each person as they were carted up, I forced myself to turn away.


    I couldn¡¯t force myself into apathy as he could. It was anathema to my very self.


    I sensed Naereni¡¯s heartfire from the edge of my perception slowly approaching us, but I didn¡¯t turn to her. I watched my breath mist on the cool February air instead, trying to find my center.


    Nareni managed to weave her way closer silently, slipping through nearby alleyways. But before she could reach us, Renea Shorn turned.


    She has sharp senses, I thought.


    ¡°The Young Rat, I presume?¡± she asked. I kept myself facing away from the young mage who was sneaking up from the rear, so I couldn¡¯t see her reaction to being discovered.


    ¡°That¡¯s me!¡± she said with faux cheer. ¡°But it¡¯s very rude to drop in on people¡¯s homes without asking for an invitation.¡± Naereni paused. ¡°You¡¯re in the Rat¡¯s territory, Miss Beaker. It would be smart to tell us what your intentions are.¡±


    Miss Beaker? I thought incredulously, finally turning to look at the young woman.


    Renea looked unphased by the nickname, except for a slight downturn of her lips. ¡°You claim this entire district for your little group?¡± she said with skepticism. ¡°Considering what occurred while these people were under your protection, I believe my intentions should remain my own.¡±


    Naereni bristled, and I sensed a rising retort. From what I knew, she rarely met someone who would fire right back in verbal spars.


    ¡°Bloodstone Elixirs has evicted the Doctrination from East Fiachra,¡± I said tiredly, desperately wanting to avoid a spat between these two strong-willed women. I was already exhausted. ¡°But the people under the warehouse¡­¡± My words choked off as images of the torture chambers down below flashed in my mind. Wade¡¯s mother and sister were captured there, weren¡¯t they? Did they receive that fate, or were they among those strapped to the gurneys being wheeled out?


    Naereni¡¯s eyes snapped to me from under her mask. ¡°Lord Daen, is it? I might not know you, but if I were in your shoes, I¡¯d leave this woman for¨C¡±


    ¡°She knows we work together,¡± I said, my shoulders slumping as I turned away. ¡°She¡¯s the one who delivered all those gifts to the Cistern a while back. No need to pretend we don¡¯t know each other.¡±


    Naereni paused, blinked, and then looked at Renea Shorn as if she were some sort of exotic animal. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment another group finally extracted one of the survivors from the warehouse. It was the little girl I¡¯d soothed. She appeared to still be asleep, but her thin, stained form would haunt my nightmares.


    Naereni went rigid, then darted toward the guards holding her. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning away as she started to anxiously ask questions of the guards. I could¡¯ve eavesdropped if I wanted to, but it took too much of my energy.


    Lady Shorn watched her go with a slight frown on her face. Then she turned once more, orienting on a nearby alleyway. ¡°Hello, Karsien,¡± she said. ¡°It has been a long time since we¡¯ve met, hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    I looked toward the alleyway, confused. There was nothing there that I could sense, even through my new feel for lifeforce. What was she talking about?


    Mist swirled in the shadows, seeming to seep from the chill air. It slowly formed into a familiar figure, the man looking at Renea warily. ¡°Lady Shorn,¡± he said, bowing slightly. ¡°Your senses are as good as ever, I see.¡±


    I¡¯m too rattled, I thought. My senses are off, and now Renea¡¯s catching things before me.


    Karsien had always been difficult for me to sense, even as I increased in core level. I was sure I was stronger than him in direct combat, but his ability to mask his presence was beyond anything I could manage.


    ¡°I heard what happened to Dornar,¡± Renea said conversationally. ¡°It was quite the scene. Half the corpse¡¯s face had been burned to a crisp.¡± She smirked knowingly.


    Karsien was utterly still, the mist swirling around him like a reluctant cloak. ¡°What¡¯s happened with the blithe in that warehouse?¡±


    Renea was quiet for a moment. ¡°Gone. Mardeth funneled it out before we arrived. But the greater worry for you should be what happened to the people here.¡±


    I felt myself slowly zoning out as the two talked tensely, a good ten feet between them. I wished for the dozenth time that Aurora was here to talk to me. Our empathic tether was empty and dull; a gaping hole in my mind. Until the undead zone in the Relictombs, I¡¯d never realized how validating having a second mind near yours could be. Whenever you saw something that angered you, the very fact another was furious added weight to your own thoughts.


    Without her constant emotional input, I was left feeling half myself.


    I watched as the guards carted the little girl away on a stretcher. She was limp in the cot, covered in sores and yellow-green splotches. She was far too thin to be healthy.


    But her eyes were open again. She¡¯d woken up in the past few minutes.


    And they stared. No, they begged. Those dull pupils seemed to dig into my chest, silently pleading for comfort and hope. She lifted a little hand, holding it out in an act of desperation.


    I felt myself moving, leaving Karsien and Renea to their chat. I weaved through the men and women stationed around, making a beeline for the little girl. Her doe-like eyes stayed focused on me all the while.


    The guards looked at me as I approached, wary of my intentions. But then I took the child¡¯s outstretched hand, holding her frail fingers in my own. I looked up at the guards, nodding silently.


    They understood. They¡¯d been in that horrid basement, too. Sometimes, we all needed a hand to hold. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡ª


    I walked with the cot as they weaved through the streets, taking familiar roads to a familiar destination. All the while, I held the ailing girl¡¯s hand. It was cold outside; the winter weather unforgiving. I only hoped the little bit of warmth I provided could ward off the chill.


    We reached our goal after fifteen minutes or so, the streets getting progressively cleaner as we neared. The East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild stood before me, so familiar yet so alien all at once. I took a deep breath as we prepared to enter.


    The inside was much the same. Greahd wasn¡¯t working the receptionist¡¯s desk today, and I felt grateful for that. I didn¡¯t know if I could muster the energy to interact with her. Old memories welled to the surface as the aged walls greeted me. Of days spent with Norgan on shifts, trying to contain the energy of youth in an environment that demanded patience and hard work. Practicing my violin in the corner, struggling at each draw of the bow.


    Those were the good memories. But right now, as I held a little girl¡¯s hand as she was taken to an uncertain future, the dour notes held far more sway. Of my hands shaking as they held a scalpel, Trelza¡¯s gaze empty as the void as he commanded me to make a precise cut. I remembered weeping after the fact, the absurd amounts of blood, and the feeling of a blade scything through flesh so different from drawing a bow over strings.


    The two guards stopped inside the lobby, going to talk to a receptionist I was unfamiliar with. I scanned the room dully, lost in memories until I noted a few other poor souls on stretchers that had been evacuated from the warehouse.


    Why hadn¡¯t they been carted back to a room yet? I thought with worry. It was a fifteen-minute walk from the warehouse to the Healer¡¯s Guild at a brisk pace. If these two people were still waiting here¡­


    One of them must have been here for nearly half an hour. In their state, that was a dangerous amount of time to be away from care.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I heard the receptionist saying to the guards. ¡°We¡¯ve tried to fit them all! We did! But our clinic is small. We don¡¯t have enough room for¨C¡±


    The woman cut off as I pushed my way past the guards, staring down at her. ¡°You said there isn¡¯t room for these people?¡± I asked. ¡°Have you checked in room A6? That one¡¯s usually used for supplies, but can be requisitioned for patients if need be.¡±


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    The receptionist frowned, taken aback by my direct words and tone. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you know that, sir,¡± she started. If she didn¡¯t recognize me then she was likely a new hire. ¡°But we already have done that. The sudden influx of these people¡­ I keep telling them. But it¡¯s too much for us! We¡¯ll have some rooms cleared out eventually, but until then there¡¯s not much we can do.¡±


    I ground my teeth, staring down at the clerk. Where before she seemed a bit defiant of the guards pressuring her, she slowly wilted under my glare like a plant left out in the sun.


    It wasn¡¯t fair of me to blame this woman. I knew that. Around this time of year, the work this small clinic did spiked tremendously as people came down with fevers and chills. Even simple sicknesses could be life-threatening with the poor immune systems of the average unadorned and the price of reliable treatment.


    I spared a glance back at the girl. She was still looking at me with those wide, empty eyes. Pleading.


    I won¡¯t fail you, too, I thought to this nameless child.


    I swiveled on my heel, resolve settling in my gut. I took a deep breath as I plodded toward the door leading into the wider medical complex. ¡°Those rooms will be free soon,¡± I said, keeping my eyes forward. ¡°Just be ready to let these people in.¡±


    The clerk snapped out of her fear, growing frantic as she recognized my aim. ¡°Sir!¡± she cried, sounding unnerved. ¡°You can¡¯t go back there! It¡¯s for employees only!¡±


    She scrambled from around her desk, leaving the guards¨Cwho looked unsure themselves¨Cto loiter at the counter. ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed back there!¡± she said as I pushed my way through the familiar doors.


    She stumbled after me as I marched through the back rooms. The clerk raised a hand, finally about to try and yank me backward, when I came face to face with Trelza.


    The tall man turned slowly to look at me, disregarding some paperwork he was watching over. Those hard eyes sharpened when they saw me, and I heard the receptionist whimper behind me.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, doctor! I told him he couldn¡¯t come back here, but he pushed on through anyway! I¡¯ll try and call security!¡±


    I locked eyes with the doctor in front of me. Rarely had I ever felt a desire to prove myself to anyone in this world, yet Trelza was one of the rare few. His stern eyes were what made my scalpel steady. My intent focused. My desires clear.


    When I¡¯d disappointed him by breaking my oath not to take revenge, it was more than simply breaking a pact. I¡¯d let him down.


    But that didn¡¯t matter now. Those were my own internal issues; personal between the two of us.


    ¡°There are a dozen survivors of blithe torture about to wheel into your clinic,¡± I said to the doctor, squaring my shoulders. ¡°And according to your new receptionist, you have no space to treat them.¡± I turned for a moment, surveying the frantic movements of the few familiar volunteers down here. None of them seemed to notice me, too engrossed in their work. I looked back at the silent doctor. ¡°Tell me who needs immediate help, Trelza.¡±


    There was another long, strung-out silence as the doctor and I stared each other down. But for all that I found fault in how he treated his patients emotionally, I knew he valued them above his own personal issues. He would not refuse extra help.


    ¡°Rooms A2, A5, B4, and B8 are in the least dire circumstances,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Do your work and leave, Daen,¡± he said, turning on his heels.


    I exhaled. The receptionist, whose heart was beating at a frankly absurd level, groaned behind me. I suddenly felt guilty for what she¡¯d just experienced. I was used to Trelza, but the tall, lanky bald man was incredibly intimidating to most.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°But you¡¯ll be able to let those people in soon. The rooms will clear out quickly.¡±


    I brushed through the familiar hallways, calling on my lifeforce and revving its power.


    ¡ª


    I went from room to room, using my new healing abilities to the best of my power. I focused on those who were the least injured or sick, since getting them healthy enough to be on their way took the least effort. It was a slow process, but I took my time.


    In the process, I learned more about my new abilities from each patient. As I grew accustomed to syncing my heartbeat with others to heal them, I began to pick out signs and indications through my sense of heartfire. Depending on different rhythms and pulses, I could detect a person¡¯s ailments to a notable degree.


    After all, lifeforce was the body¡¯s purest baseline. If the body was ailing, one¡¯s lifeforce reflected that.


    Furthermore, each time I used my lifeforce to heal, my own waned slightly. This had happened when I healed myself in the undead zone as well, but in the aftermath, the fire in my chest had rejuvenated itself. I remembered Aurora¡¯s first lesson on heartfire so long ago: everyone had a baseline of heartfire tied to their lifespan, but there was an excess that could be manipulated and pulled.


    So long as I didn¡¯t cross the threshold of that excess, I wouldn¡¯t hurt myself. I had a feeling I¡¯d be able to sense that border once I neared it, like how a limb begins to ache from overuse.


    As I¡¯d worked, each person I¡¯d healed allowed a new room to open up. I ignored the wide-eyed looks of volunteers who were once familiar, many watching in awe or consternation at my healing abilities. I had a mission, and explaining to these people how I was healing was pointless.


    Slowly, the victims of the blithe torture were carted in, refilling the clinic. I lounged outside one of the rooms, my back pressing against the wall as I crossed my arms.


    Using this new aspect of my power was draining in a unique way. It strained not just my mind and body, but my emotional energy as well. I didn¡¯t even know that part of myself could be so tired.


    My healing was far more effective if I could find a common thread of understanding with a person. It worked in a similar vein to my intent-based music, but instead of pushing everyone to sympathize with my emotions, I also had to understand my patient. If I wanted to heal a deep wound or injury, I needed some connection with the person to work from. But after constantly trying to understand a dozen different strangers to heal them on a deeper level, my own emotions were left wrung out.


    I watched as the little girl I¡¯d helped earlier was finally carted into a room. Those eyes still watched me as she disappeared behind a curtain.


    I swallowed, then pushed off the wall, entering the girl¡¯s room and sitting in a nearby chair. She held out her thin hand silently, and I took it in a gentle grip.


    I wondered what she was feeling right now. She was certainly terrified. In pain, too. But her eyes only conveyed that singular, desperate cry for help.


    My healing had only given her a momentary reprieve. But was there anything I could do to actually soothe her pains again?


    I thought of the most physical pain I¡¯d ever been in. Immediately, I thought of the incapacitating burning that had nearly crippled me in the undead zone after I¡¯d unleashed my Phoenix Will to save Sevren Denoir. That scalding hell had made it impossible for me to even move.


    But what this girl suffered from wasn¡¯t just physical. How much had she heard, locked away in that small room? How many screams slowly withered to nothing under her young, innocent ears? How many people did she know in that torture room, each turned into things beyond human recognition?


    I suspected the emotional scars ran as deep as the physical ones she would bear.


    There was something I could do to ease her pain, I realized after a moment, searching through my dimension ring. After a moment, I withdrew my violin.


    I unlatched the case with a pulse of telekinesis, allowing the instrument to float nearby under my control. I kept my fingers interlocked with those of the young girl.


    I sifted through my memory, trying to find a song I knew that would be appropriate. Something that could soothe this child¡¯s pains. A lullaby of some sort.


    A lullaby. Aurora had sung one to me a while back, hadn¡¯t she? One that was passed through the Asclepius clan? I made eye contact with the mute girl. She didn¡¯t outwardly display anything beyond a desire to cling to my warm hand.


    Nearby, my violin, under the precise control of my telekinesis emblem, began to play seemingly of its own accord. A quiet, low rhythm slowly sounded out. I let it pull on my own thoughts as I hummed the words to the lullaby.


    Oh, oh oh,


    We are all here for you.


    We are masters of the sky,


    Oh, oh oh.


    I played a simple melody; one that didn¡¯t require my utmost focus and skill. I¡¯d never tried to hold my violin music with my emblem, but for the first time, I saw the girl¡¯s face shift. Her small mouth changed into the shape of an ¡®o¡¯ as she looked wonderingly at the violin playing on its own. Her hand clenched around my own, the grip somewhere between fear and anticipation.


    Go kiss your young farewell, my dear,


    Go sleep, you child, there¡¯s no need to fight.


    Birds and wraiths dance without fear.


    They feel their joy while the day is bright,


    And drift in silence when we are here.


    But my music was more than effective. As my intent pulled on the ambient mana in the air, the lullaby instilled my own mind with a sense of peace. Using that, I pushed it outward, hoping from the depths of my soul that this child could feel the same. Her eyes drooped.


    If you are happy, you¡¯ll find peace first,


    You work your way to a life filled with gold.


    If you have hope, it will quench your thirst,


    And leave you well, that¡¯s what I¡¯m told.


    The song finished quietly, the child¡¯s grip slackening in my palm as sleep claimed her. Her eyes finally closed, her breathing evening out once more.


    So much tension in one so small, I thought, the peace I¡¯d felt fleeting. I quietly extracted my hand from the girl¡¯s loose fingers. I don¡¯t even know her name, I thought morosely. Would she ever be able to tell me? Or would she remain mute forever, broken by what she¡¯d witnessed?


    ¡°That was beautiful,¡± a voice said from the side. I jumped, startled by the noise. I turned, surprised to see Renea Shorn standing near the curtain separating this room from the rest of the clinic. ¡°I do not think¡­ No, I¡¯ve never seen such magic,¡± she continued, her eyes on my violin.


    I blinked. I¡¯d set up a sound barrier to try and mask the noise of my music, but that didn¡¯t really work if someone deliberately passed that line. Furthermore, Lady Shorn was practically a blank to my normal senses due to her cloaking artifact, making it difficult for me to detect her at all.


    Had she heard everything I played? I wondered absently, staring at the woman.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, quietly stowing my instrument back into my dimension ring. ¡°It¡¯s something I developed myself,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Magic is always used for violence and killing. I thought it could be used for something better.¡±


    Renea Shorn took a few steps forward, nearing the bed. She looked at the child, the edges of her hard exterior softening. I imagined the scene would make a poignant painting: the reaper in all her deathly beauty coming to take an ailing child to the next life.


    ¡°What is it,¡± she said at last, ¡°That you aim for, Lord Daen?¡±

 Chapter 106: For All

    Toren Daen


    Renea seemed out of place in this clinic. Where the walls were a bleached white with old paint creating an atmosphere of sterility, the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs was a vision in black. She stood out as a dark spot amidst a panorama of light.


    ¡°What do I aim for?¡± I echoed the woman¡¯s words. ¡°That¡¯s a more complicated question than you think it is, Lady Shorn.¡±


    Renea sat down in a nearby chair¨Cone reserved for visitors¨Cand faced me directly. ¡°We have time, Lord Daen. You are an enigma; one I wish to unravel. At first, I suspected you aimed for glory. Why travel through the Relictombs otherwise? Then you rejected my offer of support, claiming you don¡¯t wish to be tethered to another¡¯s power. Now you spend hours of your time tending to strangers in an empty clinic. You ache for the wounds of these people as if they were your own.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°It is not glory you seek; that much I know. So what is it?¡±


    I tapped a finger against my thigh. ¡°You¡¯ve seen what this place is like,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°No water. No shelter. Every other person you see is one missed meal away from starving to death.¡±


    ¡°So you wish to elevate these people?¡± the demure woman asked. ¡°Feed them? Clothe them?¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°Yes and no,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯m just one man. I¡¯m a powerful mage, but I can¡¯t do it all myself. It¡¯s the infrastructure that¡¯s doomed these people. The system itself grinds them into the dirt. So what if I eliminate a family that distributes blithe? A greater power will just mosey on in,¡± I said with a disdainful snort.


    That was what happened with the Joans, after all. I cut the problem out at its root, but the parent plant came to roost next.


    ¡°If you were to accept my previous offer,¡± Lady Shorn said, ¡°Those goals could be met. Bloodstone Elixirs is powerful, Lord Daen. We could distribute clothes. Food. Water. Everything these people need to survive and keep their bellies warm.¡±


    Beside me, the young girl shifted in her sleep.


    I frowned. ¡°And that would be dependent on joining you, then?¡± I said with a hint of disdain. ¡°You¡¯ve finally found what I want, and now you give me an offer I can¡¯t refuse? Binding those I care for to your leash?¡±


    The woman shook her head slowly. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°If I were in your position, I would not accept that offer, either.¡±


    I stilled. ¡°You were just trying to convince me that your help would be good for these people,¡± I said, confused by the dark-haired CEO¡¯s constant wordplay. ¡±You make me an offer, then tell me I shouldn¡¯t accept?¡± I said through clenched teeth.


    Lady Shorn ignored my question, inspecting the sleeping girl for a long moment. Then she turned back to me, and the look in her eyes seemed to dig into my soul. ¡°I see that resentment you keep hidden in your eyes. Some part of you hates me, deep down. Why is that?¡±


    I tapped my foot, the pale woman¡¯s words disrupting the careful equilibrium I¡¯d reached from playing the violin. ¡°You gave Karsien Dornar Joan¡¯s name and pointed him in the right direction,¡± I said, measuring each word. ¡°Set him on a path to taking ¡®Flint¡¯ down. All the while, Blood Joan distributed their death drug. Then you send letters afterward, congratulating us on our success. Then the Doctrination sweeps in, making life hell for even more. And you only intervene when you think you can get something from me.¡± I felt my eyes smolder as I stared down Renea Shorn. ¡°You¡¯re playing politics with the lives of all these people. People I care for. And all for what? So you can collect us into your company?¡±


    Lady Shorn brushed a lock of midnight hair behind an ear. ¡°I¡¯m a creature of politics, Lord Daen,¡± she replied. ¡°I array my pieces on the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board, laying them bit by bit. I am selfish, in my own way. But there is something you misunderstand.¡±


    ¡°And that is?¡±


    ¡°You see my methods,¡± she said, ¡°But assume my motives.¡±


    I exhaled sharply through my nose, calming my nerves. ¡°Then tell me what you want, Lady Shorn,¡± I bit out. ¡°You¡¯ve been content to try and dissect my own person these past few hours. The least you could do is reciprocate.¡±


    Renea crossed her hands over her stomach. ¡°You wish to help these people, Lord Daen. But some part of you recognizes why you will fail.¡± I narrowed my eyes in irritation, but the woman forged on. ¡°You are one man. There are thousands living in this district, and no matter your own personal abilities, you will never help them all. Perhaps your next assumption is that you need manpower and resources, such as the ones Lord Denoir or I could provide.¡±


    I opened my mouth to continue, but Renea cut me off. Her face was pinched in a way I hadn¡¯t seen before, passion seeping through her unflappable mask. ¡°But you would be wrong. Even if I or your highborn friend were to pour all our resources into this small district, fundamentally, nothing would change.¡±


    ¡°And why is that?¡± I snapped back, standing up. If Bloodstone Elixirs had intervened months ago, none of this would have happened. Hundreds of people suffered from blithe addiction because of their inaction. Mardeth tortured dozens of people at his leisure because nobody with power tried to stop him. ¡°Are you going to make an excuse for why you, with all your power, couldn¡¯t intervene sooner? To wash yourself of the guilt of this?¡± I said angrily, gesturing to the girl on the bed.


    Renea stayed seated, but her emotions seeped from her mask. For the first time, I felt something in the ambient mana. A lacing of intent broke through the woman¡¯s absurdly powerful cloaking artifact. It tasted sour and dark; the color of anger and¡­ Something else. What else was she feeling? Was that resolve?


    ¡°Perhaps these people would live happier lives for a time,¡± Lady Shorn said in measured words. ¡°Maybe they¡¯d even be happy. Grow and expand. But you were right about something else, Lord Daen. It¡¯s the system that breaks these people. I can feed and clothe and shelter, but if these people are bound to the same wheel that breaks them on every turn, then nothing will change!¡±


    I stalled, surprised by the outburst. I hadn¡¯t known the dark-haired woman long, but rarely did she seem so passionate. I could feel it in her intent, which I wasn¡¯t sure she realized was seeping past her cloaking artifact.


    ¡°I¡¯ve tried what you suggest before,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Maybe if I flushed the downtrodden with resources and wealth, people would rise up on their own. Push past their barriers. They could support themselves better. But that¡¯s treating the symptom, not the problem. I learned this. Instead of people leading better lives, the powerful swoop in like vultures sensing carrion, ripping apart anything I try to set up. Or sometimes, the oppressed become entirely dependent on my own systems instead of those the highbloods institute. And then people are left worse than when I started. They are simply dependent on a different tyrant.¡±


    Lady Shorn stood up, moving to square off with me so her face was nearly a foot from my own. This close, I caught the scent of her perfume. It clashed with the sterile smell of bleach and death in the clinic. Her breath interlaced with my own. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my own for something. ¡°So I changed my tactics, Lord Daen. I don¡¯t flush these slums with resources. Instead, I give the people here the ability to fight. To rip apart the system themselves. To show those at the bottom that they can rise to the level of those at the top. That is what I did with your Rat. And that is what I¡¯ve tried to do with you.¡±


    The woman¡¯s face was flushed from restrained irritation, her breathing ever-so-slightly stilted as she stared up at me from so close. I exhaled, stunned by her words. She¡­ She actually cared. She wanted what was best for those here in East Fiachra. It wasn¡¯t just what she displayed on her face and in her tone. Her intent¨Cdetectable only by me¨Cweaved around us in an undulating pattern, reinforcing her thoughts.


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    ¡°You care,¡± I said in wonder, my eyes wide. ¡°I thought¡­¡± I struggled to try and find words for what I was feeling.


    Lady Shorn seemed to realize how close she was to me. That mask of hers slowly reformed, the cracks of emotion sealing over with fluid apathy. She took a single step back and visibly settled herself.


    ¡°Forgive me, Lord Daen. I let my emotions get the better of me.¡± She smoothed out her dark dress. ¡°But I hope my point has been made. I could have rushed in here earlier, playing the philanthropist. But the people here would never learn to fight for themselves.¡±


    An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. I closed my eyes, thinking of what the demure woman had just said. If Renea Shorn had eliminated the Joans the moment they started distributing blithe, what would have happened?


    The Rats would never have formed, for one. Naereni would not have the burning drive to see East Fiachrans freed. Karsien would probably still be galavanting in the Relictombs with Hofal. Wade would work endlessly in his job, never pulling his family from the slums.


    And I would never have come to this world.


    I wasn¡¯t sure if I agreed with Lady Shorn¡¯s methods. Part of me still thought she could be doing more for these people. But ultimately? She cared.


    I didn¡¯t realize how much that meant to me until now.


    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have snapped at you,¡± I said after another moment, allowing my emotions to cool as well. ¡°I¡¯m not at my best right now.¡±


    Renea turned to look at the young girl. ¡°Neither of us are, Lord Daen,¡± she said. ¡°I have seen many, many horrors in this world. But few were as¡­ Wantonly brutal as what I saw today. It has left me unbalanced.¡±


    I felt my mana roil at the thought of what I¡¯d seen. The shock and horror washed away over the last few hours, leaving simmering anger in its place. I thought of Mardeth¡¯s sly, sly grin. His slippery voice and foul magic.


    I was growing so fast in my powers. Yet it seemed I couldn¡¯t grow fast enough.


    I shouldn¡¯t blame Renea, I thought, keeping tight reins on my mana. How many more would have suffered at Mardeth¡¯s hands if she had not intervened? Earlier today, I said I was content to wait. Yet that would have condemned this young girl.


    A comfortable silence stretched between the two of us, only intermingled by the sound of the child¡¯s raspy breathing. She¡¯d been put on a basic IV when she was wheeled in.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever got your final answer,¡± Lady Shorn said. ¡°What do you aim for, Lord Daen?¡±


    My response was a lot more sure this time. ¡°I want to make things better,¡± I said, latching onto what Renea had said earlier. ¡°I don¡¯t want children to starve. I want every man to be able to have a roof over his head. And I don¡¯t want highbloods walking over everyone.¡± I paused, thinking of the Frost twins. They¡¯d been corralled into a strange sense of what a noble should be, allowing it to cloud their vision. They weren¡¯t bad people, just misguided. ¡°And I want highborns to see another option, too,¡± I added quietly. ¡°We¡¯re all people on this continent. It¡¯s probably foolish to wish for peace, but another path aside from oppression can¡¯t be too much to strive for, can it?¡±


    Deep down, I knew what I wanted was impossible so long as the Sovereigns ruled. I remembered an old Chinese folktale from my time on Earth. A hundred venomous creatures were sealed together in an urn, forced to fight for their survival. The survivor would have the most potent venom of them all, having survived the grueling fight for life against all contenders and taking all the venom into itself.


    To the Vritra, Alacrya was no different from that urn. Thousands of mages were forced into a brutal struggle to climb the social ladder. Those who made it to the top were the most potent of all.


    I kept these thoughts to myself. One day, the Sovereigns would bleed. I might sound naive to the woman in front of me, but with my future knowledge¡­


    ¡°It is not foolish to wish for ideals,¡± Lady Shorn said. ¡°What is foolish, however, is only maintaining the same failing methods in the face of obstacles.¡±


    I thought of my reluctance to kill upon first waking up in this world. The sensation of a scalpel cutting flesh was almost seamless: you slowly drew the edge along the skin, allowing a cut that would hopefully save a life in the long run. Driving a dagger through something¡¯s heart, however? You felt your weapon shear through flesh. The sensation traveled up your weapon, resonating in your arms and bones and muscles.


    But it was something I had to do. I couldn¡¯t cling to the lofty ideals of refusing to kill. As Renea said, I had to change in the face of different circumstances.


    ¡°So what methods would you recommend?¡± I asked after a moment. ¡°Mine clearly haven¡¯t been effective enough at change.¡±


    Lady Shorn was quiet for a beat of thought. ¡°That music of yours,¡± she said. ¡°Have you considered playing it for others?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve played it for others,¡± I said, thinking of the time in the Relictombs when I¡¯d finally mastered the art. ¡°They seemed to appreciate it, for what its worth.¡±


    ¡°I think you can do far more with your music than you think,¡± the dark-haired CEO replied. ¡°It¡¯s not a spellform of some kind, is it? It¡¯s something else you do. You weave your intent through your music. It¡¯s¡­ revolutionary.¡±


    I smiled lightly. ¡°You¡¯re the first to notice that bit about my music without me telling outright,¡± I said, feeling proud. Lady Shorn was a more adept mage than I expected. ¡°Any mage can do what I do; weaving their emotions through their notes.¡±


    Granted, perhaps not with the same ease and instinctual rhythm as I could, considering my sense of heartfire and affinity for sound magic, but it wasn¡¯t impossible for another mage to learn. That made it special.


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask you again, Lord Daen,¡± Lady Shorn said, stepping a bit closer. ¡°Have you considered playing for others? And I do not mean for a small group of friends or a familial gathering.¡±


    My focus sharpened on the woman in front of me as I finally caught her meaning. Like a concert from my old life or an orchestral symphony, she was asking if I could play to a crowd.


    I tried to wrap my mind around that idea. ¡°No, I¡¯d never actually considered it,¡± I said, feeling a bit giddy.


    Renea Shorn¡¯s lips turned up at the edges. ¡°I think I have a new proposal for you, Toren Daen,¡± she said. ¡°You wish to institute change, do you not? And you have nearly every tool you need. A mindset for the better. A revolutionary medium to carry that message. But you don¡¯t have an outlet to bring that medium to all.¡±


    I stood slowly, anticipation building in my thoughts. My mind followed the tracks Lady Shorn was laying, tracing them to their logical conclusion. I felt a matching smile grow on my face as I stood to meet the demure woman.


    ¡°I can provide you with that. Venues, reach, and connections to make your rhythm heard. That is what I can offer you,¡± the pale woman continued.


    Now that the idea had been put in my mind, it felt so obvious. What better way to broadcast my intent to the world? Even with the Sovereign¡¯s boot on the throat of this society, I could still start something in the meantime. If I could allow others to understand me through my music¡­ I could start making those steps, couldn¡¯t I? Start making this world just a bit better?


    The reason many highbloods like the Frost twins acted so arrogant and holier-than-thou was that they didn¡¯t truly understand those so far below them in social status. As far as they were aware, unads simply didn¡¯t try hard enough, thus their squalor was deserved. But if my music could instill some true understanding of the circumstances of people like Greahd, Trelza, and even little Benny? Then maybe the attitudes of the nobility might get that push they needed to change.


    ¡°You needn¡¯t work for me to accomplish this,¡± Renea said, looking up at me as a strange sort of resolve flickered in her eyes. ¡°Only with me. As partners in this new endeavor. What say you?¡±


    My end goal was still Nico. I needed to gain the strength required to kill him; to put an end to the Legacy¡¯s reincarnation. This world would not survive a clash between the Vritra and Indrath clans. But while I was a long way away from that final goal, I could do something in the meantime.


    I smiled fully. ¡°If we are to work together,¡± I replied, ¡°I think you should stop calling me Lord Daen. It¡¯s too formal for my tastes.¡± I proffered my hand to the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs. ¡°Call me Toren.¡±


    Lady Shorn looked at my hand for a moment. For the barest of instances, I thought I might have misstepped. That my dismissal of formalities was enough to change her mind.


    Then she took my hand. Her small, delicate fingers interlocked with my own, and I found myself surprised by how firm her handshake was. Her faint, sweet perfume brushed against my senses, seeming to weave perfectly in between the sterile scents of the clinic. ¡°Then it is only right that you call me Renea when we are alone,¡± she said, squeezing my hand for an instant.


    I raised a brow. ¡°Only when we are alone?¡±


    Renea smiled demurely. ¡°I have an image to maintain, Toren. You have yet to earn the privilege of being so familiar with me in public.¡±


    The pale woman withdrew her hand. In its place, my palm felt cold.


    ¡°The privilege?¡± I said with a snort. ¡°You think very highly of yourself, Renea.¡±


    ¡°Am I arrogant, Toren? Or am I simply reasonably confident in my own abilities?¡± Renea turned, giving the young girl one last look. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll learn the answer one day.¡±


    The leader of Bloodstone Elixirs swept out of the small room, leaving me with a knot of condensed anticipation in my chest. If this continent could hear my music¡­ Hear my emotions? What would change?

 Chapter 107: To Silver

    Toren Daen


    My feet made no noise as they hit the floor of the Cistern. Instinctually, I quested out with my senses, trying to get a gauge on who was here. The last time I¡¯d seen Naereni and Karsien, they¡¯d been chatting with Renea before I¡¯d left for the clinic. Part of me expected to sense them down here.


    I frowned as I sensed only one lifeforce in the cistern. And from how it was thundering, the person clearly wasn¡¯t in good shape. The intent that infused the air spoke of despair and death. I felt my anxiety spike at the clear sign of distress, revving my mana and rushing toward the center of the Cistern. If someone was hurt, I needed to be there to heal them.


    I skidded into the main chamber of the Rats¡¯ hideout, expecting some sort of bloody mess. Maybe there would be blood on the walls, or signs of battle strewn about the old structure.


    Instead, I was greeted by Wade alone, pacing back and forth in the center of the room. His brown hair was a mess, and he wasn¡¯t wearing his glasses. From the sight of his wrinkled clothes, I could easily guess he hadn¡¯t washed in a while.


    Apple the skaunter¨Cwhose lifeforce I could now sense now that I was closer¨Cwas curled up on the sofa, watching Wade with glistening eyes.


    Wade whirled when I entered, his bloodshot eyes honing in on me. I paused, surprised by the intensity I saw behind them.


    I remembered the last time I¡¯d spoken with Wade. He had been in a rage, distraught by the capture of his family at the hands of Mardeth. He¡¯d blamed me for that, and perhaps rightfully so. I¡¯d antagonized the Doctrination, after all.


    Oh no, I thought, finally thinking of the implications. Wade¡¯s family was in that basement, weren¡¯t they? I realized with rising horror. Did I see one of them on the wheels and racks? Were there corpses amongst the brutalized dead?


    ¡°My mother and sister are alive,¡± Wade said, reading the horror on my face. ¡°Thanks to you, I suppose. For bringing in Bloodstone Elixirs.¡± He walked around the sofa, falling into the cushions. His muscles seemed to simply give out as he slumped, utterly exhausted. Still, his heartfire thundered.


    I opened my mouth, grasping for words like a fish on dry land. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s good. Better than what could¡¯ve happened.¡±


    Wade closed his eyes. ¡°Was it better?¡± he asked breathily. ¡°My rats refused to go into that basement, Toren. Refused. They¡¯ve never done that before. And once the bodies were carted out¡­¡± He shivered visibly. ¡°My familiars wouldn¡¯t go near those, either. It smelt too wrong to them. But Naereni told one of my summons what you were doing.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I questioned, feeling confused.


    ¡°My sister,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Kori. Naereni said you accompanied her to the hospital. And I sent my rats after you. The clinic was full before you started working. She only got in because of you.¡±


    I felt a sense of pride at what I¡¯d managed to accomplish, but as my mind caught up with Wade¡¯s words, that sense was doused by worry. ¡°Your mother?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She was among the survivors,¡± Wade said, closing his eyes tight. ¡°But she hasn¡¯t woken up. Only Kori did.¡±


    I thought of the little girl¨CKori¡¯s¨Cweak grip as she clenched my hand in terror. Her mute expression as she slowly drifted off to sleep under the effect of my music. Her blithe-green skin and patchy hair.


    ¡°It would have been better if she stayed asleep,¡± I said quietly, images of that torture room burned into my retinas. ¡°She saw more than she ever should.¡±


    ¡°What was it like in there?¡± Wade whispered. ¡°Down in that dungeon?¡±


    I felt my throat constrict, my lips suddenly very, very dry. Wade looked at me with empty eyes, not needing his glasses to find me.


    ¡°I see,¡± the young sentry muttered after I failed to respond. He pushed himself up, making a poor attempt at fixing his hair. ¡°I need to go to the clinic to see Kori,¡± he said. ¡°But I don¡¯t know how I can face her. I¨C I failed to protect her. Protect them both.¡±


    I exhaled. I remembered the coursing guilt that nearly consumed me in the undead zone. Every life lost in that zone was because of me and the effects my presence had.


    Aban, Jameson, and others I never learned the names of all perished because I failed to protect them. I needed to come to terms with that somehow. But I knew what I needed to say to Wade.


    ¡°I can tell you about the fight I had with Mardeth,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°About the futility of that battle. And then the Doctrination¡¯s blockade of the warehouse, making it nigh impossible to smuggle someone out. I can tell you with a dozen logical points why you aren¡¯t to blame for what happened,¡± I continued, walking toward the young sentry. ¡°But I know that won¡¯t help or change how you feel. The only thing you can do is act. Make choices that show your resolve.¡±


    Wade looked up at me, his eyes clouded by restrained guilt.


    ¡°She needs someone with her right now,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you think you don¡¯t deserve that position. You¡¯re her brother.¡±


    Wade slowly stood, nodding mutely. He walked past me, trudging toward the exit, and hopefully toward the clinic. Apple gave a morose bark as he scampered after the sentry.


    I shoved my hands in my pockets as Wade left, hoping I had made a difference.


    ¡ª


    Not long after, I sat cross-legged in my room in the Cistern. I allowed my palms to rest face up, my eyes closed as I meditated deeply. The ambient mana thrummed with quiet pulses as it reacted to my intent.


    Dark silver cracks lined my light yellow core, an intangible light flowing like steam from the seams. Within, the phoenix feather that contained Aurora¡¯s power pulsed mutely. Ever since my First Sculpting, the outpour of mana from it had stalled to a bare trickle.


    I inhaled, drawing mana in through my mana veins in the process. I felt the foreign energy sift close to my core, then purify as it cycled through. Bit by bit, the mana I drew in widened those cracks. This was why I¡¯d entered the Cistern in the first place. I needed a safe haven to finally push past my bottleneck.


    I rarely had to actually draw in ambient mana to purify my core. The constant deluge of mana Aurora¡¯s feather provided scoured away impurities and pushed my nexus of power further in development, but the trickle it let out now wasn¡¯t enough for that final shove.


    I exhaled, feeling my breath steam as fire and sound mana intermingled across my body. My heartfire thrummed slowly, my heartbeat low and steady.


    I drew in another ounce of ambient mana, subconsciously preparing for what came next. When that mana cycled through my core, the rivets in its dark yellow surface seemed to fall away like dead skin, a silver shine glowing from within. I gasped as my core advanced, mana coming in a wave as I finally broke through.


    Alacryans weren¡¯t taught to purify their cores on their own. It was more efficient to acquire runes and increase your mastery in them, as the upgrade of a spellform forcefully elevated your core level. Before I¡¯d come to Alacrya, Toren had only experienced the upgrade from light red to dark orange from upgrading his mark to a crest. Then, the most notable experience afterward had been in my battle with the Joans where luck and circumstance allowed me to push into the dark yellow stage.


    I hadn¡¯t had time during that confrontation to actually feel that advancement. The adrenaline, warmth of my Acquire Phase, and companionship of Aurora overshadowed all of that.


    But now, with my senses heightened and my focus clear? I felt as my lifeforce surged in tandem, growing larger and larger as if it had been fed gasoline. Mana flowed through my channels, strengthening my physique even further.


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    And the feather in my core glowed. I felt something familiar rise in tune with my advancement, drawing a smile to my face as the ambient mana churned around me. Little sparks of fire lit up the room as fire mana reacted, while the air and stones around me vibrated from my subconscious touch of sound.


    Welcome back, Aurora, I thought with a smile, feeling the phoenix¡¯s mind slowly awake under the effect of my core advancement. You¡¯ve been out for a while.


    ¡°Wh-what?¡± the asura said, her voice uncertain and tenuous. ¡°Where¡­¡±


    The Unseen World washed over my vision. My grin faltered when I saw Aurora, the shade looking disoriented and tired.


    Instead of the sundress I¡¯d always seen her in, voluminous orange robes clothed the phoenix. Purple trim stretched along the seams and lining, creating an almost regally casual effect. Her hair seemed to be a deeper red than I remembered, and I marked confusion in her burning eyes.


    She wavered, clearly not fully conscious. I stood, striding over and trying to steady her instinctively. To my surprise, when my hands touched her arms, they didn¡¯t phase through as they had before. I carefully led the asuran shade to a nearby chair, allowing her to sit down. Though it seemed I could touch the shade, her body still made no indent on the chair.


    ¡°Toren?¡± Aurora asked, blinking slightly. She turned her head, taking in the room around her. ¡°Where are we? The zone of that horrid Tomb¡­¡±


    ¡°I made it out safely,¡± I said both aloud and over our bond, trying not to stare at the left side of Aurora¡¯s chest. I had a feeling I knew why she was still so weak, considering what I saw there. Or didn¡¯t see. ¡°Thanks to what you did for me.¡±


    The phoenix looked up at me, seeming to realize I was there for the first time. Her emotions, which had been streaming over our bond, stuttered like a car hitting a pothole.


    ¡°I thought¨C¡± she started. ¡°You didn¡¯t wish to speak with me. For what I took from you. I¨C¡± She turned her head away, closing her eyes tight. ¡°I am not whole, Contractor. I am pulling myself together, but I feel¡­ Distant. Like I have been stretched beyond my means.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°I understand,¡± I said. ¡°You sacrificed much to keep me alive, Aurora,¡± I said quietly. I pointedly ignored the deep red staining her robes, which seemed to spread from her chest. ¡°More than I can understand.¡±


    ¡°But I took so much from you, Toren,¡± she said weakly, her hands clenched. ¡°Why do you speak to me still?¡±


    I licked my lips, then knelt in front of Aurora¡¯s chair so that we were at eye level. ¡°Maybe you did take from me, Aurora,¡± I said, trying to convey the emotion I felt over our bond. So she would know my words to be true. ¡°But you¡¯ve given me so much more as well. A chance to improve this world. A say in Fate. And another opportunity to achieve my dreams, even if they have changed.¡± I let myself smile slightly. ¡°And because of you, I¡¯ve already taken the first few steps.¡±


    The asura finally opened her eyes, staring into my own.


    She made a striking image. Her slouched form seemed to sink into the chair. Her blazing eyes contrasted with her deep red hair. Those loose robes, fit for a queen.


    And it all seemed to draw together over the asura¡¯s chest. There was a void where her heart should have been; like a savage rend in space. Only a bloody hole remained where I instinctively knew that center of emotion once beat. I could feel no lifeforce from the phoenix at all.


    When she thrust that dagger into my heart, I wondered absently, Did she give me her own?


    I felt the strange mix of relief and uncertainty the asura felt over our tether.


    ¡°You were victorious, then?¡± she asked, looking at the single lock of hair I had that changed. That deep red plume of mine that faded to silvery pink stood out against the rest of my strawberry-blonde hair. ¡°That serpent is defeated?¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°All that remains of it are bones,¡± I replied. ¡°And I managed to gain insight into aether from that zone as well. All in all, I think that would be called victorious.¡±


    I let my memories of the battle flow over our link, something I¡¯d never done before. Even as we¡¯d grown closer, I¡¯d kept my own perceptions distant. Aurora and I shared emotions, certainly, but thoughts and memories were deeper secrets.


    But part of me knew there would be no more secrets between us.


    Lady Dawn bowed her head. ¡°I am sorry I was not strong enough to assist you further,¡± she said, noting the strain my mind had felt using the Phoenix Will unaided.


    I looked at the void where Aurora¡¯s heart used to be. ¡°You¡¯ve assisted me more than enough,¡± I said. ¡°Even now, the effects of your sacrifice still mark you.¡±


    The asura smiled sadly. ¡°Every time your core advances, it allows me to heal more and more,¡± she said. ¡°But it seems it was not enough to seal this wound. I doubt anything will.¡±


    I huffed. ¡°You¡¯ve helped me so much through these past months,¡± I replied. ¡°And very rarely have I ever paid back the favor.¡±


    ¡°You have done far more for me than you know,¡± Aurora said quietly. ¡°When I was in Agrona¡¯s dungeons, his method of torture was¡­¡± The shade visibly shook. Her eyes took on a haunted cast as she relived memories. I felt our link go dark, the phoenix fighting not to withdraw inwards further.


    This is her trauma, I thought, my mouth feeling dry. What hurt her so deeply.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to¨C¡± I started, wanting to spare the asura reliving that pain.


    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°No. You must know what you face. Agrona is a master of the mind. He prods and pokes, weaving his tendrils through your thoughts. And when he finds something delectable; something that ties your sense of self to your soul, he rips it out. Tears it from your mind like wrenching a dagger from a wound. Who you are bleeds away through that wound. And you are left to wonder what you¡¯ve lost, for even that knowledge is taken from you.¡±


    Aurora looked up at me. ¡°The wounds in my mind were deeper than any that stained my body,¡± she said quietly, resting a hand over the hole in her chest. ¡°When you first approached me for a Contract, Toren, do you remember what finally changed my mind?¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°I mentioned the name of your son,¡± I replied quietly, silently dreading what Aurora was going to say. ¡°Chul.¡±


    Aurora smiled bitterly, pure white teeth clenched almost in a grimace. ¡°I knew the name you spoke, Toren Daen. I knew I¡¯d selected it. I knew my husband, Andravhor, had grinned when I chose it. I knew my son had grown under that name, proud of its heritage.¡± She took a breath. ¡°But I did not know his face. Every memory of mine was as empty as this cavity in my chest.¡±


    I tried to understand that. To process what she was saying. Memories of Norgan¡¯s features had drifted in the time since his death, as my meeting with him in that strange soul plane had proven. But for it to be taken from me¡­ To have my enemies know the face of my brother; and me unable to even recall the color of his eyes?


    I felt stiff from this admission. As she spoke, Aurora¡¯s emotion slowly leaked over our bond. I was expecting regret, fury, or sadness. Instead, I found familiar gratitude and joy. Those emotions struck me like a hammer, confusing me utterly. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Aurora pointed a finger at my core. ¡°Until you advanced in your core level. My memories returned in tandem.¡± She lowered her hand to her lap. ¡°I know my son¡¯s smile again because of you, Toren Daen. Something I never thought I¡¯d remember again.¡±


    I stood, turning around and trying to cement this in my mind. By advancing in my core level, I¡¯d healed Aurora¡¯s own soul somehow. I could understand why she felt such gratitude to me now, but it still felt undeserved. I hadn¡¯t intended to heal her. From my perspective, I¡¯d still done so little.


    But there was something I could do, I thought. I can give her hope for our quest.


    An idea of what I could do for the phoenix slowly came together as I thought. Something only I could do that would assuage her fears; maybe give her some perspective on what was to come. What was the deepest secret I held? That I¡¯d kept even from my soul-tethered Bond?


    I¡¯d kept something hidden for a long time; only able to keep it as such because of Aurora¡¯s own sins. But now¡­


    I turned around. ¡°When we first met,¡± I said, drawing myself to my full height. ¡°You said that Agrona was fated to win. You feared that this world was lost already; that our quest was doomed from the start. And I told you that Agrona had weaknesses.¡± I sifted through my dimension ring, pulling on a leatherbound notebook that had followed my every step through this world. My journal settled into my hands, the familiar symbol of Named Blood Daen stitched into the front cover. ¡°I didn¡¯t answer you why I believed the High Sovereign was fallible. I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    Aurora tracked my every movement with wrought attention, the air strung tight enough I could play it with my violin bow. The asuran shade sensed the gravity of what I was about to tell her. My own mind churned as I prepared to open my own heart.


    ¡°But I think it''s time you felt hope for a better future,¡± I said, holding the notebook close. ¡°So I¡¯m going to tell you a story. It tells of a lone man reincarnated into a new world; forced away from his past obligations and struggles. Of a King who recognized that second chances do come, and that there are causes worth fighting for. Of a mortal man who would grow to slay asura and protect those weaker than he.¡± I smiled slowly. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the story of Arthur Leywin, and how one person alone can defy gods.¡±

 Chapter 108: Experimentation

    Toren Daen


    I leaned against a wall in the lobby of the Healer¡¯s Guild a day later. While the lobby always felt sterile and blank, it seemed to be coated in an aura of exhaustion today. The eyes of every nurse and doctor I saw were haunted and worn, dark circles stretching under their eyes.


    Before I fulfilled my promises to Sevren Denoir, I needed a level of closure on what had happened to the people I¡¯d rescued. Around the lobby, a few guards employed by Bloodstone Elixirs milled about, providing implicit protection against further Doctrination influence.


    You¡¯ve been very quiet since yesterday, I noted to my Bond.


    Aurora was silent for a long moment. Our link wasn¡¯t empty and closed off as it had been before, but the phoenix was making clear efforts to contain her own thoughts and emotions on what I¡¯d revealed to her. ¡°What you revealed to me is taking time to process,¡± she replied. ¡°It was¡­ very, very far from what I expected. I do not know how to¡­¡±


    She trailed off uncertainly. My phoenix bond was deeply uncomfortable with admitting ignorance.


    Or fear. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I hummed. What did you expect, exactly? I queried. I understood the source of my future knowledge wasn¡¯t an easy secret to digest. I¡¯d told her everything I knew over the course of several hours, giving a broad overview of the events within The Beginning After the End.


    ¡°In this¡­ novel you read, Arthur Leywin met my brother Mordain,¡± the phoenix enunciated slowly over our link. ¡°Or will meet. But it is worth noting that my elder brother is an adept user of aevum arts. During his decades in the Hearth, he learned to pull on the strings of Time to give himself glimpses of the near future.¡± She halted in her words, her thought process stalling like a car engine. ¡°Which I suppose you do know.¡±


    I snorted.


    ¡°I think¡­ I suspected something similar. Cast adrift between worlds, your soul delved into knowledge beyond us. But every glimpse my brother made of the future was of the near future; of days or weeks in advance. Beyond that, his sight became hazy and unsure. But what you¡¯ve revealed¡­¡±


    It¡¯s incredibly detailed, I acknowledged. In the story, Rinia Darcassan was under similar constraints as your brother. But my own knowledge is exact down to facial expressions and the emotions each person expresses. I paused. Do you doubt the truth of what I told you?


    Aurora was quiet for a long, long time. Then the Unseen World overtook my vision, casting everything in muted shade. ¡°When I was in Agrona¡¯s dungeons,¡± she started, staring at her hands, ¡°I never expected to escape. Only hold out for as long as I could; protecting the home of my people. You were hesitant to tell me of my Fate. But the Legacy approached me in tow with Agrona, and I can reason out the rest.¡±


    I swallowed. I¡¯d very blatantly glossed over Lady Dawn¡¯s fate at the hands of the Legacy, avoiding the gruesome depiction of her death. She¡¯d been drained like a battery; her mana and power siphoned away like a withering rose. But the asura was far too intelligent to miss the implications.


    ¡°I think I was supposed to die there,¡±


    she whispered. ¡°There was something Fated to what you said. Something I should have experienced. My last gamble; casting my soul to the void to escape Agrona¡¯s clutches?¡± She shook her head. Her eyes were dim; shadowed by her hair. ¡°It should not have worked. I find myself questioning why it did. What about your novel differs from reality? It¡¯s too succinct; too perfect to outright dismiss.¡±


    I don¡¯t think this world is simply a novel, I said after a moment. To say you were Fated to follow the words on a page does not do your will and struggle justice.


    Aurora chuckled softly. She rarely ever laughed. ¡°I do not think this world is simply a creation of this ¡®TurtleMe¡¯ either, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°But for someone to have such superb knowledge of another world¡¯s future, such intimate experiences of another¡¯s emotions and point of view as to put it to the page? That is what unnerves me, Contractor. If one can have such mastery over Fate, how can we fight against it? I wonder at the source of your book. Even if this Arthur Leywin has a sort of destined relationship with the highest Edict, we are like gnats in a thunderstorm before such utter knowledge.¡±


    As far as I¡¯m aware, I said, watching as a tired nurse carried supplies across the lobby, We¡¯ve already defied that Fate several times. Maybe we don¡¯t know how we did so yet, but there are differences. I smiled. For one, you¡¯re here with me.


    The asura¡¯s shoulders slumped. I suspected it would take some time for her to fully internalize the revelations I¡¯d provided, but we¡¯d moved past treating each other like adversaries to dance around. We were united in our souls. In the wake of the asura¡¯s sacrifice, I felt that keeping my knowledge secret was a pointless endeavor.


    ¡°Defying Fate,¡± Aurora said wistfully. She still looked somewhat tired, and glancing at the gaping hole in her shade-like form¡¯s chest, I suspected she wouldn¡¯t always be able to aid me as before. ¡°Such a wonderful idea.¡±


    I felt my lips curl slightly at the edges. Do we even have a Fate anymore? I asked with a hint of amusement. Neither of us should currently exist, as far as I¡¯m aware. What does that mean for the world?


    The asura received my playful philosophizing with characteristic stoicism. ¡°The novel you read may have simply been a possible outcome for this world,¡± she said after a minute. ¡°Our own journeys may have been destined for something else, diverging endlessly.¡±


    I nodded internally. I recognize that possibility, I replied over our link. So far, everything has lined up with what I know down to the dates and the people, I said, thinking of Darrin Ordin. But there¡¯s always a chance there¡¯s a single detail off; or some critical bit of information withheld from me. I plan to use my future knowledge as a shifting outline rather than a stern rulebook.


    Aurora looked up at the ceiling, her blazing eyes dimming a fraction. ¡°I wonder who pulls these strings of Fate,¡± she said absently. ¡°Who puppets us both? It is a rare coincidence that you, who have deep knowledge of this world, are caught by my reincarnation spell by chance. Rare that you would have the same natural mana affinities as I. Rare that you would have a twin soul on this side of the divide.¡±


    The asura¡¯s listless words took me aback. I realized then that I may have miscalculated in telling her my secret all at once. I¡¯d aimed to give her hope for our future goals: after all, Arthur Leywin proved Agrona¡¯s plans were fallible. And perhaps I did give her hope for a better end.


    But in the process, I¡¯d instilled a different fear. An entirely existential worry for the verity of her own free will.


    I opened my mouth to reply but was interrupted as the door to the back rooms of the clinic swung open sharply.


    Trelza stood looming in the doorway for the briefest of instants before his eyes¨Cwhich seemed set too far back in his skull¨Czeroed in on me.


    I¡¯d compared Renea Shorn to the Grim Reaper on multiple occasions, but as the stone-faced doctor strode towards me, I thought that this surgeon fit the moniker far more.


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    ¡°Daen,¡± Trelza said coldly, looking down at me. I suppressed a subconscious desire to wilt. I was over six feet tall, yet still, this man loomed over me like a scarecrow. ¡°Your employment at this clinic was terminated months prior.¡±


    The Unseen World vanished from my vision, but I knew Aurora was not yet done with her ruminations. I pushed that knowledge aside, recognizing the necessity of this interaction.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to work for you, Trelza,¡± I said calmly, squaring my shoulders. ¡°But I need to know what you¡¯ve discovered about the survivors that were brought here yesterday.¡±


    Trelza¡¯s unblinking eyes peered into my own, but I didn¡¯t back down. ¡°Patients have a right to confidentiality,¡± he replied in a stern monotone. ¡°You do not have a right to their records.¡±


    I ground my teeth. Fair point, Trelza, I thought. Or at least it would be in literally any other circumstance. ¡°The mage who did this is gone from East Fiachra,¡± I said. ¡°But he¡¯s not done with this place. Far from it.¡±


    I knew that in my bones. Mardeth had retreated in the face of Renea Shorn¡¯s arguments, but that equilibrium was barely held together. The Vicar of Plague struck me as someone who held grudges for past slights, and Seris Vritra, the largest deterrent keeping him from returning here, would be leaving for Dicathen in¨CI internally counted the months, trying to keep the timeline of The Beginning After the End consistent in my head¨Cless than a year, perhaps?


    What would stop Mardeth from returning in force once his largest deterrent was a continent away, fighting a war? I needed to find a solution to this problem before that time.


    ¡°He¡¯ll hold a grudge for being forced out,¡± I said coldly. ¡°And you should know what grudges drive people to do.¡± I paused. ¡°So give me something. Anything that will give me a hint on where to start if I want to stop this from happening again.¡±


    The air snapped between Trelza and me as we squared off. Aurora was silent, allowing me this confrontation.


    ¡°Each and every survivor was unadorned,¡± Trelza said after a moment. His eyes never left my own. ¡°Yet they all showed the exact same signs of damage. A small, barely noticeable hole pierced each of their mana cores, presumably to inject substances directly into their center.¡±


    I paled, remembering Lawrent Joan¡¯s words as he nearly killed me.


    ¡°The Sovereigns themselves are said to inject blithe into the core as a torture method,¡± he¡¯d said. And each and every one of these people¡­


    ¡°Just to cause them pain?¡± I asked emptily, trying to reconcile this in my head.


    ¡°No,¡± Trelza said, his voice hard. ¡°It was the exact same injection point across all unwilling participants. Living and dead.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Then¡­¡±


    ¡°This was an experiment,¡± Trelza continued. ¡°One conducted with precise goals in mind. Different serums, across similar injection points. A test group and a control group. All I have seen from both those surviving and those who perished is consistent with this hypothesis.¡±


    It clicked. ¡°The reason those twelve survived¨C¡±


    ¡°I suspect they were part of a control group in testing a specific serum,¡± Trelza said, not giving me time to think. ¡°Looking at those who died, the picture becomes clearer. From further away, this looks to be brutal, indiscriminate torture. But upon close examination, it is too methodical. Too regimented, with too many signs that say otherwise. The exact injection points for the needle. The times of death; which occurred within hours or even minutes of each other. And each deceased person seems to have been injected with the exact same amount of toxin.¡±


    I was left scrambling to try and assemble all of these pieces, trying to connect them to everything Mardeth had said and done. If this was an experiment, then what was the insane vicar trying to accomplish?


    He said he had found some sort of glorious purpose at the Victoriad a year ago, didn¡¯t he? I thought. Is that somehow related to this experimentation?


    Trelza turned away. ¡°I¡¯ve told you more than you should know. Now leave my clinic, Daen.¡±


    I slowly settled my nerves, realizing the steps I needed to take next. If I wanted to track down the reasons for this brutal experiment, there was somebody I needed to question first.


    ¡°I know it won¡¯t mean much to you, Trelza,¡± I called after him as he strode away, ¡°But I made an Oath not long ago.¡±


    The man paused in his steps, but didn¡¯t turn.


    ¡°I vowed I¡¯d kill the mage who did this. And so far, every person I promised death to has met their end.¡± I felt my eyes smolder. ¡°If you can¡¯t trust my words, trust my blade.¡±


    Trelza was still for a protracted heartbeat. Then he resumed his walk back to his work.


    I could only hope my words had resonated on some level.


    ¡ª


    I found Hofal atop a building in the deeper regions of East Fiachra as night fell. He stared listlessly at the large, refurbished temple, his pipe resting in his hands. He lounged across a few broken stones, his greying sideburns seeming stark on his middle-aged face.


    The shield made no overt movements as I approached, though I made my mana signature clear.


    ¡°It looks so beautiful, doesn¡¯t it?¡± he said suddenly, his focus fixed on the temple in the distance. ¡°The arches are a work of art in and of themselves; the mathematics and calculations required to keep them steady genius. The stained glass adds the contrast the building needs to truly pop. That style of dome at the temple¡¯s top was pioneered by a man named Erten Portrel from my home province of Etril. Did you know that?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± I replied honestly. Hofal had always enjoyed the ins and outs of architecture. ¡°Though it does stand out against everything around.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the point, Toren,¡± the shield replied, drawing long on his pipe. His eyes were pinched and reddened. ¡°That temple is the largest building for a mile around. Nothing else in this district can compare.¡±


    An uneasy silence stretched between us. I felt Aurora¡¯s reassuring touch on my resolve. We both knew the necessity of this next step.


    ¡°Hofal,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I need you to tell me everything you know of Mardeth. He won¡¯t leave this place alone for long.¡±


    Hofal exhaled smoke, then stared at his pipe. He¡¯d broken his last one, and this one was clearly of poorer quality. ¡°I joined the Doctrination when I was a lad,¡± he said, tapping his pipe free of ash. ¡°I think I told you about that. I was entranced by the wonders they created, stone by stone by stone.¡± He sighed. ¡°I joined the high temple in Nirmala. Back in the day, the Vicar of Plague hadn¡¯t reached his current standing. But that temple was his in every sense of the word.¡±


    Hofal¡¯s breath misted on the cool night air.


    ¡°He had this obsession with pain,¡± the shield said into the dusky air. ¡°He believed it was the path to true power. That only through pain could something grow stronger. I tolerated it for a while. I thought that because the outside was so wonderful, the inside must¡¯ve been just as grand. I was just too naive to see it, just like I was too naive to see the end result of that temple being built.¡±


    ¡°But the inside was rotten,¡± I said somberly.


    ¡°It was,¡± Hofal replied sadly. His fists clenched around his pipe, and I feared he might snap it again. ¡°Beneath that temple in Nirmala, he was experimenting. I don¡¯t know what his goal was, but the screams¡­¡± the old shield shuddered. ¡°Once I saw what was down there, I had to leave. Had to get out.¡± He finally turned to look at me. ¡°It¡¯s the exact same thing that happened here. I thought I¡¯d escaped it. I thought I was finally done with that hell.¡±


    Hofal had always looked so sagely and wise to me. Yet in his shoulders, I saw fear and indecision.


    ¡°I want to run, Toren,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s what I did before. Maybe I can escape this, you know?¡±


    I walked forward, sitting on a nearby block of concrete. I looked out at the temple in the distance. It did look beautiful; a testament to human power and ingenuity. The mosaics of basilisks in the stained glass seemed to stare at the two of us, sensing our conversation.


    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to run,¡± I said quietly, thinking of what Toren¨Cwhat I¨Chad done upon Norgan¡¯s death. I¡¯d thrown myself into the Clarwood Forest, ready and planning to die. I¡¯d told myself it was the only option I could take. I was taking my destiny into my own hands.


    And perhaps that was true. But I was also running. Instead of facing my adversaries, I¡¯d chosen to take the easy way out. Instead of giving myself the chance to fail, I cut all chances entirely.


    ¡°And it feels freeing, at least at first,¡± I acknowledged. I thought of what it was like to slowly bleed out on the forest floor, surrounded by corpses of skaunters and broken dreams. Once I¡¯d actually faced death, I realized how much I was going to miss. ¡°But when you realize all the other options you could¡¯ve taken and what could¡¯ve been, you¡¯ll be left regretting it forever.¡±


    Hofal¡¯s shoulders shook. ¡°I know,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I know.¡± He exhaled a shuddering breath. ¡°I can¡¯t run now. I can¡¯t be a coward. But Toren¡­ If you want to go after Mardeth, Nirmala is where you should start.¡±


    I nodded, still content to just keep the older mage company. Even the strongest of us needed a shoulder to lean on sometimes.


    ¡°Telling you Mardeth¡¯s strength probably won¡¯t dissuade you from trying, though, will it?¡± he asked somewhat morosely.


    I smiled wryly. ¡°I¡¯ve got less than a year to finish this blithe-stained rivalry of mine,¡± I said. ¡°And I will finish it, Hof. But I¡¯m stronger than you might think.¡±


    The old man sagged. ¡°I know you are. So many things I know, but can¡¯t accept.¡±


    I matched gazes with the glittering stained glass portrait of a Vritra far in the distance. My goals were set. Nico was my ultimate goal, but that was going to take time. Before I was strong enough to kill a Scythe, I needed to fulfill my promise to Sevren Denoir. Spreading my musical understanding was a good stepping stone to changing this continent.


    But in the midst of all of that, I had another time limit. Mardeth''s deterrent would be gone by next autumn, and the only chance this district had at peace was my blade.

 Chapter 109: Of Another Land

    Toren Daen


    I leaned against a wall on the second floor of the Relictombs, tapping my fingers against my arm. The rhythmic pulses of heartbeats and flows of mana all around me brushed against my perception, teasing me with subtle knowledge of all those nearby.


    Ever since my Sculpting, my sense of intent increased proportionally to my feel for mana. I¡¯d been slowly getting a hold of the impressions people subconsciously left in the ambient mana ever since I started using my violin to project my emotions, but that was like grasping at smoke. I got flashes of insight into how people were feeling; or glimpses into their hidden desires. But that was faint and fleeting like the mist Karsien was so good at using.


    In this zone, so populated with people and industry, that bare perception became a notable sensation that interweaved with my normal mana sense. But I wasn¡¯t skilled enough to trace individual emotions to whoever was feeling them. There were too many signatures; too much interfering noise. It was as if hundreds of different colors of paint were poured into a single tub, and then swirled around lightly. It was hard to tell where one shade started and another ended.


    And good luck following that color to its source.


    Aurora was resting, something she didn¡¯t have to do before the Sculpting. In my opinion, she had earned every bit of rest she could get.


    The Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard bustled with laughter and singing in the distance, audible only due to my enhanced hearing. Light streamed from the windows, giving it a cheery glow.


    I felt someone approach from the side, their suppressed presence unable to hide from my empowered senses. They walked up to my side, but I didn¡¯t turn to look at them.


    ¡°Any reason why you didn¡¯t want to meet inside that tavern?¡± Sevren Denoir asked.


    I exhaled from my nose slightly as I turned to the highblood heir, scrutinizing him briefly. He was wearing his usual dark colors, with his teal cloak to top it off. With his pale skin and brilliant white hair, he created a stark contrast with the rest of his ensemble.


    ¡°That was where I met Darrin Ordin,¡± I replied. ¡°And the rest of the Unblooded party. It has good memories, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s for me anymore.¡±


    Sevren nodded slowly. I didn¡¯t know if he truly understood my hesitances, but that didn¡¯t ultimately matter.


    I myself was wearing loose, gray pants that gave my legs plenty of room to breathe. The material they were made of was soft and durable: a notable step up from my usual attire. A long-sleeved maroon tunic clung close to my chest, accentuating my toned physique. Out of habit and acquired taste, I was wearing a set of dark fingerless gloves that covered the rest of my tattoo. Over it all, I wore a dark overcoat that opened at the front. Oath was strapped snuggly at my waist.


    The money I¡¯d made from my accolades had been enough for a substantial wardrobe upgrade. The vendor who had sold me these garments had claimed they were rated for surviving ascents, and considering the price tag and other customers I saw milling about, I was inclined to believe him.


    I pushed off the brick wall I¡¯d been leaning against. ¡°Well, I have a promise to keep,¡± I said with a bit of a sigh. ¡°You¡¯ll want to follow me,¡± I added as I began to walk down the street.


    Sevren easily kept pace with me. ¡°And where exactly are we going?¡± he queried.


    I felt my lips draw into a thin line. ¡°You wanted to know of the Relictombs,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°So you¡¯re going to follow me on an ascent, from start to finish.¡±


    Sevren narrowed his eyes, but he didn¡¯t say any more as we began our trek toward the ascension platform.


    My eyes flicked to the nearby rooftops as we walked. Among the mishmash of mana and lifeforce signatures, I could just pick out a few along several different points on the rooftops above.


    They hadn¡¯t been there a minute ago.


    ¡°So, did you know you¡¯ve got¡­¡± I counted internally. ¡°Half a dozen tails trailing you from the rooftops?¡± I asked.


    Sevren gave me a look. ¡°I usually have a couple on my back at all times, unless I purposely slip their watch. But there have been more since my last ascent,¡± he said slowly. His brow furrowed. ¡±And I only counted five.¡±


    I looked toward where I felt the sixth presence. They were the only spy that didn¡¯t exude a mana presence, but their slowly pulsing heartfire gave them away to me. At my obvious attention, their heart rate skipped a single beat.


    I smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve got some special advantages in sensing others,¡± I said, looking back at the road. ¡°So, do you want to shake them?¡±


    Sevren considered this for a moment before shaking his head. ¡°No need. Once we¡¯re in the Relictombs, they won¡¯t be able to follow. And if we weren¡¯t being so obviously watched, I¡¯d ask you more about your plans.¡±


    I exhaled. It was a calculated gamble going back into the Relictombs, but I¡¯d made a promise. And as far as I was aware, I¡¯d be able to reach my goal without any adverse effects.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say this. What happens will not be what you expect.¡±


    ¡ª


    Oath flashed as it severed a wing from a lunging aether beast, the runes etched along the blade¡¯s spine pulsing in tune with the mana I imbued into the edge. I spun in tune with the cut, sending a forceful psychic push against the squawking birdlike creature¡¯s unbalanced back.


    It tumbled into a tailspin, spraying blood and screeching in terror as it plummeted off a nearby ledge, falling into the endless clouds below. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I flourished my saber, flicking the viscous red blood from the red-patterned metal. Sensing an attack coming, I thrust my other hand forward, converging mana from my core to a spherical point that shimmered like oil.


    I threw a sound grenade forward, then clenched my fist. The bursting vibrations impacted the oncoming metallic feathers, sending them off course and disrupting their deadly flight toward me.


    A squadron of angry-looking avian beasts glared at me from the dimly lit sky, squawking as they prepared another volley of metallic projectiles from their two pairs of wings. Each was as large as me, and their eyes gleamed with malicious intent.


    Sevren was faster. Promise zipped forward with as much force as I¡¯d ever thrown it, that strange wire trailing behind it. The Damascus-patterned dagger lurched midair, managing to wrap two of the flock twice over before they could even react. The Denoir heir pulled his wire to the side, throwing the two birds into their own flock from half a dozen meters away.


    The zone we entered a little over a day ago was a sprawling mess of islands, each seeming to hover in the sky. An unbroken expanse of clouds covered the entirety of the void below, an almost tempting canvas of white mist that shrouded whatever was beneath.


    And the beasts that attacked us were certainly stronger than most creatures I¡¯d faced before in the tombs. Many had earthen or metallic defenses that resisted my attempts to cut or damage them, leaving me to switch tactics. My new go-to tactic was to damage a wing and let them fall.


    As Sevren handled the monsters in the sky, I refocused on those around ground level. Strange worms that looked like they were plated entirely in earth burrowed through the islands, trying to catch us by surprise. I attuned myself to the heartfire pulses around me, however, letting my ears detect what was coming.


    As a signature erupted from almost directly below me, I slammed a mindfire stamp into the soft grass beneath me. The spell, which was a combination of piston stamp and a telekinetic shove against the ground, allowed me to blur fifty feet into the air with ease. As I soared upward, I simultaneously used a telekinetic pull on the creature that was erupting from the ground.


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    My upward momentum, combined with the aether beast¡¯s own lunge, gave me the drive I needed to yank it entirely from the ground.


    A twenty-foot-long worm made entirely of dirt lurched into the sky with a strange rumble. Rows upon rows of blocky teeth lined its maw, each primed with the strength to crush boulders.


    I took the easy route. As I fell back down to the island Sevren Denoir and I fought on, I pushed on the aether beast¡¯s side, simultaneously shoving my mind against the ground as well.


    With my secondary push, I had solid leverage to prevent myself from tumbling haphazardly. The plated worm, however, had no such luxuries. With a final explosive fireball sent against its sturdy armor, it arced into the clouds below.


    I landed easily, huffing slightly. My ascending partner and I had very quickly learned to remove those worms from the islands as fast as possible. Their preferred tactic was to try and ambush us, and if that failed, to slowly chew away the rocks and earth around the island, eventually separating our slice of rock and letting it fall into the abyss below.


    And their regeneration was absurd. For every bit of earth they ate, they healed. I felt something happening with their heartfire that I couldn¡¯t understand as they regenerated, but it was beyond my expertise.


    Sevren dodged around a few metallic feathers as they neared him, then retaliated with a quick lash of Promise. The dagger wasn¡¯t as good at cutting through the four-winged birds¡¯ armored hides, but he only needed to disorient them.


    I sent a flurry of fireballs at the crowded flock, forcing them to retreat with a squawk. As the jumble of birds realized they weren¡¯t going to win this fight, they screeched in anger, then began to fly to another island in tandem.


    I watched them go with hard eyes. This zone had a strange ecosystem. The birds, for some reason I couldn¡¯t discern, couldn¡¯t stay flying for long. And when they landed, the worms tried to ambush them.


    Sevren swept his gaze around our tiny island, keeping watch for anything that might ambush us. Then he spotted something, making him pause in his scan. He slowly walked toward a spot in the soft grass, pushing away the strands of green.


    Then he stood, holding something that made me pause.


    A pair of wired headphones, clearly made of cheap, flimsy plastic, rested in his hands.


    After making sure the metallic birds weren¡¯t about to try a sneak attack, I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked up to the Denoir heir. ¡°You look perplexed,¡± I said, wondering what the white-haired striker was thinking.


    ¡°These look like earmuffs,¡± he said, ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make sense. This zone is temperate, so needing to protect from the cold doesn¡¯t add up.¡± He held up the wire, which led to a 3.5-millimeter audio jack. ¡°And this doesn¡¯t make sense either. Does it¡­¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Connect to something?¡±


    Feeling a bit of an idea creeping up, I hummed. ¡°Why don¡¯t you put them on?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ll give you an idea of how it works.¡±


    Sevren looked unsure for a moment, before complying. Frankly, he looked almost ridiculous with the cheap headphones contrasted against his Alacryan attire, but I suppressed the urge to snicker.


    Taking the audio jack in my hand, I concentrated on my mana. I drew sound mana around my finger, allowing it to saturate the thin bit of brass between my fingertips, before bringing it to my mouth.


    ¡°Can you hear this?¡± I asked, allowing what I said to travel along the wire in distinct vibrations. Sevren blinked, looking at me. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes,¡± I said, but before I could say more, he¡¯d taken the headphones off.


    I felt a slight surge of mana coming from Sevren, coalescing around his hands in a pale yellow glow. The mana soaked into the headphones in his hands, swirling and probing at every inch of the item.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked, intrigued. I¡¯d never seen whatever spellform this was before.


    Sevren¡¯s eyes flashed with that same pale yellow color. For a split second, he seemed to reach some sort of epiphany. ¡°These aren¡¯t earmuffs,¡± he said excitedly. ¡°Like you showed, they¡¯re supposed to transmit sound, but¨C¡± He paused. ¡°Not by vibration,¡± he said slowly, seeming more and more confused. ¡°Or mana? How is that possible?¡± Then his eyes snapped to me. ¡°Does this use aether?¡±


    He looked to me for an explanation, seeming utterly focused on my next response. I exhaled, processing what I¡¯d seen. ¡°No, they don¡¯t use aether,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°And how do you know they don¡¯t use vibration? That¡¯s exactly what I used to demonstrate the sound transmission.¡±


    The Denoir heir hesitated, his hands clenching tightly around the headphones. ¡°One of my regalias helps me decipher the intended workings of items and artifacts,¡± he said slowly. ¡°It isn¡¯t perfect, but with enough outside hints, I can use it to piece together the mechanisms behind certain items and gadgets. It''s how I figured out why simulets worked. They create a sort of mana tether between each other that keeps people connected for the brief instant someone enters a portal, and I learned how to reapply those principles elsewhere.¡±


    I thought of Sevren¡¯s tracking device. Somehow, the little metal plate he¡¯d given me¨Cinscribed with his own contact information¨Chad created a sort of aetheric link between me and his tracking compass, allowing him to follow me through the Tombs. And he¡¯d figured that out with this regalia?


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, confused. ¡°I know you can¡¯t manipulate aether. So how did you manage to make an aetheric tether between two objects? ¡±


    The white-haired striker grimaced. ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± he said, sounding irritated. ¡°But by luck, I found an aether beast that did have a way to create those tethers. I just repurposed them from their bodies, using what was already there.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m lacking information here. The material used for the cord is too flimsy for continuous transfer of vibrations, and there are literally dozens of better substances for mana conductivity. So how does this transmit sound if not for mana or vibration?¡°


    I exhaled through my nose. It¡¯s not like Aurora left me much to hide when it comes to the Relictombs, I thought, a bit annoyed. The way Sevren looked at me told me he was well aware I knew the secrets to that little item.


    ¡°Through electricity,¡± I eventually said. ¡°The copper wire inside transmits pulses that are interpreted by a little transducer in the ears, which then vibrates to create the sound programmed into it. That¡¯s a very, very heavily simplified explanation, but that¡¯s how it works.¡±


    Sevren looked back at the device in his hands. His hands lit up with a familiar pale yellow glow, and he raised a brow in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, his regalia presumably feeding information back to him. ¡°There¡¯s some sort of magnet in here,¡± he said, mumbling slightly. ¡°And a coil that looks like it might oscillate when¡­¡±


    He blinked, then looked up at me. ¡°Your bond said this place was a reflection of your mind,¡± he said with a bit of wonder in his voice. ¡°This is what she meant, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    I sat down against a nearby rock, my instincts to hide information and conceal my secrets warring with the desire to be honest. Aurora had made a promise to Sevren, one I intended to keep. Furthermore, the man had saved my life several times.


    And if Sevren wanted to get me hauled off by the Sovereigns to the depths of Taegrin Caelum, all he needed to do was whisper into the right highborn ears. What he¡¯d seen in the undead zone, combined with his status in society, was more than enough to have me condemned.


    But beyond all of those logical reasons, the Denoir heir and I were kindred spirits. His drive to make a better world for his sister resonated deeply with me, drawing on my old memories of Norgan. And I¡¯d seen the hate he held for the Vritra in his eyes.


    ¡°There are lands beyond the ones you know,¡± I decided to say. ¡°Places with cultures and knowledge separate from anything you¡¯d see in Dicathen or Alacrya.¡± I looked into the air. Dusk was encroaching its long purple fingers across the sky, heralding the long-coming night. ¡°Lands where mana and aether are nearly unknown. Where humans rule themselves, deciding their own laws and future.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°A land where buildings of steel and glass kiss the sky,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Of skyscrapers and elevators. Of vanilla Coke.¡±


    I simply smiled. A quiet silence stretched between us. No crickets chirped in the growing dark of nightfall. The only sound that greeted my ears were the waiting heartbeats of the lurking metallic aether beasts and Sevren¡¯s own fast but steady heartfire.


    ¡°It must be wonderful,¡± the Denoir heir said. ¡°Humans ruling themselves? Without the boot of the Vritra over their every move?¡± He clasped his hands over his knees, an almost wistful look on his disheveled features.


    I felt my smile fall. ¡°Humans are the same anywhere you¡¯d find them,¡± I said, feeling a bit somber. On any continent, or any world. I thought of the inequalities of Earth. There were good people in both places, but outside of literal magic, I saw more things align than contrast between the two worlds. ¡°You might be surprised at the similarities you¡¯d see.¡±


    Sevren looked at me with a piercing teal gaze, his clasped knuckles white from how hard he was clenching them. ¡°And you visited this land?¡± he asked. ¡°That¡¯s how you have such strange knowledge?¡±


    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s a way you could put it,¡± I said. ¡°There are a few others like me. But even among them, I¡¯m very different,¡± I said with a sardonic smirk.


    Sevren slowly sat down, probably sensing that I wasn¡¯t going to say much more on the topic.


    ¡°The next zone we reach,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯ll find the answers you¡¯ve been looking for for so long.¡± I looked up from my hands, hoping to convey my sincerity with my own orange eyes to the teal-cloaked mage. ¡°And I¡¯ll find some answers for myself as well.¡±

 Chapter 110: To Keep a Promise

    Toren Daen


    I settled my breathing, the adrenaline pumping through my veins slowly washing away. My focus, which narrowed under the intensity of the fight, gradually broadened as I came down from a battle high.


    I spat out a little bit of blood, already feeling the cuts along my lip healing. I wrenched Oath from the ground nearby, inspecting the blade.


    It was as pristine as ever, minus the chip near the base of the blade. I still felt a pang of sorrow every time I looked at that obvious blemish.


    Sevren had his back to the massive corpse of the boss we¡¯d just defeated. It was a massive, earth-laden worm, and had been an absolute pain in the ass to kill. The thing was fast, smart, and had understood its advantages. In this zone of endless islands, those who controlled the ground were king.


    The worm, before Sevren and I had managed to actually kill it, had an irritating habit of hopping from island to island, leaving behind some sort of aether-based spatial spell that made the floating plots of earth we stood on slowly unravel beneath our feet. The fight had quickly become a game of cat and mouse; the worm trying to erase enough islands to let us fall.


    It had failed, of course. Sevren and I were unmatched in our mobility, and anything that thought it could run from us¨Cespecially when we worked together¨Cwas dead wrong.


    Since passing into the silver core, I¡¯d expected an increase in difficulty in the Relictombs. Stronger monsters, more difficult challenges, the works. And while I thought the average aether beast Sevren and I had faced in this zone was stronger than the ones I¡¯d faced before the undead zone, this island-hopping adventure had acted more as a test of our reflexes and quick thinking rather than abject combat ability.


    ¡°I think I¡¯m coming up with a theory,¡± I said as I stared at the open sky, ¡°Of the most optimal amount of legs something should have.¡±


    Sevren pulled himself to his feet, stretching out his back. He gave me a raised brow at my words. ¡°And how, exactly, have you come up with this ¡®theory?¡¯¡±


    I slowly loped toward the white-haired striker. The ascension portal shimmered nearby, casting a purple light over everything. ¡°If something has more than four legs, it¡¯s already past the acceptance range,¡± I said, thinking of all my horrid encounters with insects. Facing off against the hivemother¡¯s horde in the Clarwood Forest, fighting legions of flying beetles in that one desert zone with the Unblooded Party, and that irritating scorpion boss we¡¯d killed. ¡°But animals need to have at least two legs as well. Too few and you get weird.¡±


    Sevren shot a glance at the worm carcass he¡¯d been using as a backrest. It didn¡¯t have any legs. He looked unamused. ¡°And I¡¯m assuming this theory of yours accounts for that undead serpent you killed, too?¡±


    I spat. ¡°That was the worst offender,¡± I said, only partially joking. ¡°Two to four legs. That¡¯s all that¡¯s allowed.¡±


    Sevren smiled slightly. ¡°But what if an aether beast has three legs? It could be bipedal with a leg sticking out of its back or something.¡±


    I paused. ¡°That is a horrible image to think about. And now we¡¯re going to have to fight something like that eventually because you said it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Sevren said, staring at the ascension portal. ¡°Are we going to rest a bit before moving on, or?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No need. The next zone won¡¯t have enemies to fight or challenges to overcome.¡±


    Before Sevren could ask more, I walked up to the purple pane of rippling energy. I couldn¡¯t see through to the other side, but I knew deep in my bones what awaited. ¡°I¡¯m going through,¡± I said. ¡°See you on the other side.¡±


    I stepped into the pane of light.


    The town zone had changed again since I¡¯d last been in it. Each time I entered this zone of the Relictombs, the architecture had shifted and grounded itself into something more closely resembling my previous life. Houses built in a suburban-style were flanked by perfectly trimmed lawns. A sidewalk stretched all along the mock-street for about a block, before stretching into endless oblivion far off. Rolling hills and copses of trees dotted the far-off landscape.


    But there was once again a change to this place. Instead of simple suburban homes, those in a Sehz-Clarian style interweaved among the modern sprawl. It should¡¯ve looked janky and out of place. The architecture in Fiachra was flowery and reminiscent of Renaissance styles crossed with an almost utilitarian emphasis on vertical lines.


    Somehow, the two completely opposing styles meshed together well. Two-story Fiachran homes were bordered by structures that wouldn¡¯t be out of place in an eighties movie, and it worked.


    Sevren stepped through a moment later. There was an irritated cast on his face, no doubt because I went on ahead without him, but that slowly washed away as he took in the zone before him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been here before,¡± he said breathily. ¡°It looks a bit different from when I was here last, but¡­¡±


    ¡°This is why I rejected your offer to ascend together the first time,¡± I said, turning back to the street. ¡°Every ascent I go on, I travel through this zone. The Tombs puts it in my path.¡± I gestured to the many houses lining the street. ¡°It changes every time, sure, but it¡¯s the same place. But there¡¯s something here even you would have missed.¡±


    I felt that strange omniscient presence pressing down on me from all sides, same as I always did. Sevren didn¡¯t seem to notice it, but I had to restrain the urge to raise my shoulders as my spine tingled. ¡°This place has your answers, Sevren. I just need to find the person who will give them to you.¡±


    Sevren gave me a strange look. ¡°You¡¯ve shown me so many anomalies already, Toren,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what else you can throw at me that would surprise me.¡±


    I smiled, my mind reaching into my core. ¡°Remember those words,¡± I added jovially, slipping into my Acquire Phase. I felt my cheeks burn as feather stem runes appeared under my eyes, their warmth like hot coals. My chain tattoo glowed softly, superimposing itself over my coat.


    Sevren took a step back as pressure pulsed from my body involuntarily, the ambient mana quaking as power suffused my being. His heartfire jumped in his chest, visible to me now as a plume of red fire.


    The Will meshing with my mind alerted my Bond, who was still resting fitfully. She awoke, for lack of a better word, as her own thoughts brushed my own.


    Welcome back, Aurora, I said with a hint of amusement. If you still need rest, I can manage this myself. I just need to search for something, and the capabilities of my Will are needed for that.


    ¡°No, Toren,¡± the phoenix shade said, sounding slightly tired. I could feel her reading my thoughts, recognizing my plan. ¡°I am well to assist you in something so trivial. And I have questions of my own which must be answered.¡±


    I felt some of the burden on my mind shift as the asuran spirit shouldered some of the weight. Absently, I wondered how long I could maintain my First Phase with my heightened physique and silver core reserves of mana.


    Nearly indefinitely if I¡¯m careful, I realized with a bit of surprise. With my semi-asuran physique and Lady Dawn¡¯s mind suffusing my own, my Acquire Phase was barely a strain at all anymore.


    My sense for lifeforce expanded dramatically as I sunk into the Will. I turned in a slow circle, ignoring Sevren¡¯s focused intensity as I scanned the zone.


    I walked forward slowly, my feet echoing on the pavement of the quiet zone. My eyes tracked all around, searching for my target as my ears listened for heartbeats.


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    It took me a while to find what I was searching for. But eventually, I did.


    A sputtering spark of heartfire popped and simmered in empty space, burning near the edge of the houses. It reminded me of an engine trying and failing to start, sparks flying as the motor engaged uselessly.


    ¡°It is so weak,¡± Aurora said with sadness in her tone. ¡°It is the last, gasping breath of a dying man.¡±


    It might not need to be, I said, flexing my fingers. Sevren had followed me as I walked, sensing the need for silence in my search. My powers of healing aren¡¯t fully fleshed out yet. There¡¯s a chance here.


    I knelt down in front of the invisible space, reaching out a hand. As I expected, I felt warm, wrinkled skin under my palm, even though it appeared I was grasping at air. The invisible djinn didn¡¯t react.


    I focused on my lifeforce, humming slightly to help myself reach the right rhythm. My own heartfire, which had changed from red to an orange-purple in the aftermath of my Sculpting, flowed along my hands as I called to it.


    There was something natural about what I was doing. Under the influence of my First Phase, I could prod at my own power at a deeper level. Lifeforce, to a fundamental degree, desired the continued existence of the body it was tied to. I just drew that desire to the surface, unearthing the depths of the body.


    The djinn¡¯s own heartfire responded instantly to my own call. I was startled by how quickly it jumped, as if meeting an old friend. Every other healing I¡¯d done was akin to coaxing a frightened animal from an alleyway. But this djinn¡¯s lifeforce practically surged to meet my own with minimal effort.


    Aurora watched with determined silence. She couldn¡¯t guide my hand here as she did with mana. My heartfire was mine and mine alone.


    I frowned as the djinn¡¯s guttering sparks quickly became a roaring bonfire, the sympathetic link between us functioning better than I expected. I quietly retracted my own hand, feeling that my work was nearly done. But there was something here I was missing. Something that scratched at the edges of my brain, telling me I was forgetting a crucial detail.


    Then the invisibility spell came down, allowing me to see the results of my work. The djinn, who had been decrepit and withered like the gnarliest tree root, now had smoother features as lifeforce suffused his body. His hair became fuller and lush, suffused with a spark of youth once more.


    Sevren gasped behind me in shock. ¡°An ancient mage,¡± he said with awe. ¡°Alive? Here?¡±


    The djinn¡¯s eyes, which once had a maddened, darting motion to them, now bore a different kind of haze. One I recognized well: that of an exhausted man waking from a long, deep sleep.


    ¡°Andravhor?¡± he said quietly, blinking. I felt Aurora¡¯s shock as the name entered my ears. ¡°Where am I, old friend? I felt your touch calling me, but I¨C¡±


    The pink-skinned man had been in the fetal position. He slowly moved, trying to get a handle on his surroundings. I gently laid a hand on the djinn¡¯s shoulder-who had once rambled like a madman¨Ctrying to help steady him.


    His pale, purple eyes tracked my arm up to my body, then centered on my face.


    I felt exposed. Those eyes peered into my own, peeling me back layer by layer. My skin crawled as I felt my protections unconsciously wrench away. Skin, muscle, bone, mana, lifeforce? It all burned under this casual glance.


    The djinn¡¯s eyes hardened, and he pushed my hand away as he pushed himself to his feet. ¡°You¡¯re not Andravhor,¡± he said with a slight snarl. He pushed himself to his feet unsteadily, ignoring Sevren Denoir. ¡°You have his body. Have his touch. But those are not my friend¡¯s eyes.¡± S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°This djinn knew my husband,¡± Aurora said, oblivious to the hostility the djinn was displaying toward me. ¡°Ask him his name, Toren. I must know it! Perhaps he obtained that phoenix feather from the Hearth in the time since my leave? He may know the fate of my people in more detail than you!¡±


    ¡°I know the name,¡± I said slowly. I could feel Aurora¡¯s anticipation and excitement through our bond, barely restrained. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand what¨C¡±


    The djinn put a hand over my sternum. He was almost gentle in his touch as the heel of his palm brushed against my ribs. Deep violet spellforms covered the ancient mage¡¯s entire body, and they glowed as they contacted my chest. His eyes were fire. ¡°Reveal yourself, parasite,¡± he said with a hiss. I felt a mounting sense of dread, instinctually reaching for the hand. But I was too slow. The djinn pushed.


    I lurched backward, feeling a tearing sensation wrench across my mind. I yelled in confusion and pain as Aurora¡¯s mind was ripped away from my own, leaving deep troughs across my thoughts. Vaguely, I saw a vision of Aurora¡¯s asuran spirit burst from my back, the Unseen World flickering in and out of perception. She looked like a butterfly being forced from its chrysalis far too soon.


    I fell out of my First Phase as my concentration wavered, pops of fire and sound bursting around me as I struggled to contain my mana. I fell to my knees, dry heaving from the horrid sensation of having my psyche fractured. What just happened? I thought emptily, clenching my hands around the grass as I tried to come to grips with my situation. My heart beat like a pounding drum in my ears.


    ¡°Release her now!¡± I heard a familiar voice say from above me. ¡°Or I¡¯ll drive this dagger into your heart, insights be damned!¡±


    Sevren? I thought woozily, looking up.


    I froze. The Unseen World half-clouded my vision, casting everything with a strange misty light. Yet the darkness didn¡¯t obscure everything as I was used to.


    The djinn held Aurora¡¯s glowing form in a taught grip, his fingers grasping her pale throat. Her reddish hair flared wildly as she snarled, her hands trying to pry the rune-covered fingers apart. The djinn¡¯s eyes were boring into the hole in her chest an expression of utter disdain on his face.


    Sevren held Promise to the djinn¡¯s throat in turn. His teal eyes were hard as he pressed the point against the ancient mage¡¯s carotid, a single drop of purplish blood dripping down his dusty robes.


    Aurora? I called out, feeling disoriented and confused. The pieces I saw kept trying to come together to make a full picture, but somehow failed at the last step. Aurora, what¡¯s happening?


    Our Bond was still there. I wasn¡¯t sure it could even be broken. But our connection was muted. There was a strain on our tether as if someone had dropped a dozen tons of metal onto a thin wire, begging it to snap.


    ¡°Let the Bond go,¡± Sevren repeated, ¡°And I won¡¯t end you here.¡±


    Stormclouds were gathering in the distance. Thunder rumbled.


    ¡°Andravhor was my husband,¡± Lady Dawn choked out. ¡°My love. Until the day he died.¡± Her eyes flashed a deeper red, her body glowing brighter for an instant, but she was unable to escape the grip of the ancient mage.


    She¡¯s too weakened from my Sculpting, I thought, recognizing the problem. I wasn¡¯t sure the asuran shade even needed air, but whatever the djinn was doing was hurting her.


    That centered my broken concentration. This djinn was hurting Aurora. I growled, hauling myself to my feet. I fell into my First Phase again on instinct, except my Bond was nowhere to temper its deluge of insight.


    I clenched my hand, ready to call down a hailstorm of plasma.


    Then the djinn shoved Aurora away, leaving her to drift slightly as she rubbed at her neck with an expression of fury. He ignored Sevren¡¯s dagger, turning on his heel to observe the far-off gathering thunderstorm.


    I ignored the djinn, rushing over to Lady Dawn¡¯s shade-like body. There were marks around her throat where the ancient mage had held her fast. Now that the djinn had released her, I felt the weight on our mental tether disappear.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± I said with heaving breaths. ¡°Are you safe? Hurt in any way?¡±


    Stupid, I thought, noticing the strangle marks around her pale neck. Of course, she¡¯s hurt.


    Sevren clenched his dagger in a white-knuckled grip, looking between the djinn and Aurora in quick glances. The fact that he could somehow see my Bond was trivial in the face of this danger.


    ¡°I am well, Contractor,¡± she said aloud. ¡°It will not happen again,¡± she said, her teeth bared in anger at the djinn, whose back was turned to us.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not trying to help. I was¨C¡±


    ¡°I know what it is like to have your mind torn, Toren,¡± she said, not taking her burning eyes away from the ancient mage. ¡°You cannot be faulted for inaction.¡±


    Still, I thought to myself. Sevren was the one who stepped up. I collapsed on the ground.


    My First Phase pulsed with warmth across my skin. I felt my fingers clench in anger as I slowly settled my mind.


    I¡¯d suspected my healing could soothe mental wounds as well as physical ones. While lifeforce was ultimately of the body, it tied the soul to the Vessel. Under that line of thinking, there was a connection to the mind somewhere along that thread.


    I¡¯d healed this djinn of his madness, and his first reaction was to attack me?


    I opened my mouth to speak, but the djinn¡¯s words cut me off before I could.


    ¡°So I have failed, then,¡± he said, surprisingly sorrowful. ¡°My sacred duty, as last of the Watchers, is null and void.¡± He turned, looking at us with deep purple eyes. I felt my shoulders tense as that probing sensation tugged at my soul. ¡°And an asura has entered the Tombs of my people, intent on stealing our insight.¡±

 Chapter 111: The Last Djinn

    Toren Daen


    ¡°The beasts of the Indrath clan failed millennia ago,¡± the djinn said with iron. His long, graying hair was pushed away from his face, highlighting his sharp, aged features. ¡°You came here for insight? You¡¯ll get none from me. The asura have tried and tried to wrench our powers from our minds, but they¡¯ve all failed.¡°


    I scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t need your insight into aether,¡± I said angrily. I¡¯d gone to such lengths to heal this djinn, and the only response I¡¯d received was hostility. It boiled my insides. ¡°But I do need answers. About the Relictombs and their¨C¡±


    ¡°Speak, phoenix,¡± the djinn said, ignoring me and cutting off my reply. ¡°I know how your kind views ¡®lessers.¡¯ These pawns of yours can spout the lies you¡¯ve told them, but you will speak to me yourself. Put away the mask.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s lip curled with distaste. ¡°You think them my pawns? Your people have always been insightful, djinn. Yet now you spout the same small-minded rhetoric of the dragons you hate so much. Toren Daen is no more my pawn than a chick is a mother hen¡¯s puppet.¡±


    The djinn smiled nastily. ¡°You assert you don¡¯t use mortals as pawns? Then how come you¡¯ve created this phoenix-djinn hybrid to traverse our Tombs?¡± His face fell into something dark. ¡°And you took the body of my friend to do so. I know the abilities of your kind, phoenix. How you build yourselves up from the ashes. And Andravhor¡¯s touch is entrenched in this man before us. You dare to enter here after using his body to your own ends? And preaching of being a mother.¡±


    Aurora blurred. One second her glowing, translucent form was behind me, the next it held the side of the djinn¡¯s head in a five-fingered grip. I smelt the sizzling of burnt flesh as her hand clenched around the djinn¡¯s skull. ¡°I have been lenient toward your disrespect, djinn, for those I¡¯ve long held dear,¡± she said quietly, a quiet pulsing of intent flattening the grass around us. I remembered the first time I¡¯d pushed the phoenix and the full weight of her King¡¯s Force pressing me into the floor. ¡°But I will not tolerate such blatant contempt any longer. Not even for all those I¡¯ve loved.¡±


    The ancient mage looked up at her without flinching under her King¡¯s Force. Sevren stumbled nearby, and I had to hold onto my First Phase to stand tall. And still, I knew she was holding back.


    The djinn stared into Aurora¡¯s burning pits. Over our bond, I felt that same discomfort of being peeled apart. The djinn¡¯s eyes bored into Lady Dawn¡¯s inscrutable suns, peeling back layer upon layer of mana and aether.


    Then he barked a short, amused laugh, his head still held by Aurora¡¯s grip. ¡°By Entropy, he loved you! Andravhor, that fool!¡°


    Aurora¡¯s phantasmal body went rigid.


    ¡°What a bleeding heart he had,¡± the djinn said, staring at Lady Dawn¡¯s chest. If there were not already a gaping void there, I was certain his stare would burrow straight through her incorporeal flesh. ¡°To give away his body to you in your mutual death. And then for you to pass it on further to the Twinsoul among us? The absurdity¡­¡±


    The phoenix¡¯s grip slackened, a wave of restrained emotion roiling under the surface. ¡°He was my husband,¡± she said quietly, matching the djinn¡¯s intrusive stare with her own. ¡°My star in the night. The light in the cosmos. And as he reached the end of his mortal life, he gave up his own body to me, so that I would carry a piece of him with me forever. And I will not allow you to insult his legacy.¡±


    My bond released the djinn, pushing him back. I didn¡¯t understand how her normally incorporeal form could interact with this ancient aether-wielding mage, but there was a clear handprint burned into his wrinkled face. Aurora swept around imperiously. Her face was carefully blank, but those burning pits she called eyes flared with the restrained force of a supernova.


    I reached a hesitant hand out, sensing her discomfort at the confrontation, but she ignored it. Her body fuzzed as it reached me, and I got the sense she had drifted into my core; or whatever she did to rest.


    Are you okay? I asked. My bond was already so tired. I¡¯d finally learned how Aurora had acquired blood of the djinn, but the pain associated with the event picked at old scars.


    ¡°It is nothing, Contractor,¡± the asuran shade conveyed. ¡°I must simply rest. These confrontations sap further life from me with every touch.¡±


    I looked up at the djinn. His face was healing at a notable pace, a hard set to his jaw as he looked at Sevren and me.


    ¡°It¡¯s clear I¡¯ve missed much,¡± the aged djinn said, exhaling softly and looking to the sky. ¡°I need to convene with the Collective. Understand what I¡¯ve missed in these past ages of madness.¡±


    Before I could ask what the Collective was, I felt a shift in the ever-present clawing attention that clawed at my every orifice. I shuddered, my eyes darting around as it receded.


    ¡°No,¡± Aurora thought, still watching despite her tiredness. ¡°It is not receding. It is changing focus.¡±


    The djinn spasmed a moment, his eyes flashing a deeper purple. ¡°Our resting place is failing,¡± he said into the sky. ¡°For so long has our lifework lay untouched. None came to learn from our final insights. This place has failed, hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    His mind isn¡¯t as whole as I thought it to be, I realized. He jumps from emotion to emotion in rapid succession, struggling to keep a firm hold on a single one. And the sentience of the Relictombs¡­ Somehow, he¡¯s able to interact with it. Take knowledge from it.


    And the presence wafting off the ancient mage wasn¡¯t the same as King¡¯s Force or even the Intent I was so familiar with. Yet something in the air pushed against me like flowing water, evoking a sensation of power. But this wasn¡¯t blunt, brutal power from King¡¯s Force. Nor was it the complex weave of emotions I could thread with intent. This evoked a sense of vastness. Like an insect suddenly viewing the wide-spanning continent, or the Earth from on high.


    Despite all the magic I¡¯d faced in this second life of mine, very little of it felt truly mystical to me for some reason. Every action; every spontaneous flame, conjured sound barrier, and forceful psychic shove had an understandable phenomenon behind it. I felt awe in the face of impressive feats of magic, but rarely did I feel in the presence of anything divine.


    But this djinn, even in his broken state, emanated something beyond anything I¡¯d felt before. Not more powerful, per se, but simply other. A step above.


    ¡°It hasn¡¯t failed,¡± Sevren said suddenly. His words pulled my mind from the strange trance I¡¯d entered, drawing my thoughts like molasses. His white hair flowed strangely under the aetheric presence. ¡°Your dimensions are designed to convey insight into aether, right?¡± He shot me a nervous glance. ¡°Someone has succeeded in that. Toren Daen.¡±


    The djinn looked at me. I narrowed my eyes, those knowing orbs taking far more from me than I was comfortable with. As he spent more time standing, he seemed to gather himself further.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± the djinn said, their voice echoing strangely. ¡°My name is J¡¯ntarion. One of the Watchers, tasked to wait for a descendant to grasp our knowledge. To guide them in our ways and culture; so that it may endure. In death, all my brethren have melded with the latent sentience of the Relictombs. I am the last of my order.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Though perhaps not the last of my race. Thanks to asura, no less,¡± he said with shielded contempt. ¡°How amusing that is.¡±


    Aurora simmered slightly, but I got the feeling she was too tired to make an issue of the insult.


    ¡°What?¡± Sevren said, clearly able to function better in this aetheric fugue than I was. ¡°Not the last?¡±


    The djinn closed his eyes. The purple light still bled through. ¡°We were wrong not to resist our own destruction,¡± he said, his words like smoke on the air. ¡°Too long did we cling to ideals of peace and pacifism. And the oppressor always wins in the face of the restraint of the oppressed. This is what becomes of those who keep to pacifism.¡±


    I felt an instinctual urge to reject that idea, the passion streaking through my awe. ¡°You can¡¯t dismiss five millennia of prosperity because of one tyrant,¡± I said, surprised by my boldness. ¡°What your people achieved couldn¡¯t have been managed without collective cooperation.¡±


    J¡¯ntarion looked at me, and I saw his age once more. He was like a piece of ancient pottery. There was an innate elegance and beauty to his movements, but the dust was also laid bare. Too long had this immaculate piece been uncared for. Abandoned. Left to decay.


    ¡°I do not dismiss my people¡¯s accomplishments, Twinsoul,¡± the ancient mage said with a shake of his head. ¡°But the avenues we took for cooperation assured our own downfall. If we were to risk contacting other asuran clans, perhaps we could have affected Lord Indrath¡¯s powerbase. Or perhaps we could have retreated from our Faircities sooner. Or maybe we could have created something that would dissuade even the King of the Dragons from moving against us in the first place.¡± Then the djinn shook his head. ¡°But perhaps that would make his slaughter of my people seem justified. I shall never know. Our own forcefully narrowed perspectives denied us these opportunities until it was already too late.¡±


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    The air was still in the wake of the ancient mage¡¯s lament. Inwardly, I tried to think of something I could say to offer some sort of comfort. To give this mage hope, or perhaps a reassuring gesture. Despite the alien presence pervading the space, this djinn¡¯s sorrow was as familiar to me as any other human emotion.


    But it all felt empty. What could I say that could ease the loss of millions? When every mother, father, sister, and brother were burned for simply understanding more than a jealous god? My words would not bring J¡¯ntarion¡¯s family back. No word I uttered would make up for thousands of years of lost beauty and life.


    The djinn¡¯s shoulders squared as he visibly steeled himself. ¡°But that is not why you healed me, is it Twinsoul? You did not come here to listen to an old mage lament his loss. No, you came for something else.¡±


    While grateful for the shift in topic, I still felt a strange sort of helplessness. I had dozens¨Cno, maybe hundreds of questions I wanted to bombard the djinn with. How did gravity function in this contained pocket dimension? How did the djinn know of other worlds? Was there a way I could travel between Alacrya and Earth at will?


    And at the forefront of it all was a question that seared hotter than Aurora¡¯s eyes. It roiled between my temples with a heat surpassing any fire spell.


    Would I change this world for the better?


    I tapped my foot nervously, trying to center myself. This chance felt like once in a lifetime, and I needed to use it wisely.


    No, I thought. Once in two lifetimes.


    The djinn was watching me expectantly, those eyes of his piercing my very soul. On some level, I knew he was waiting for me to ask. To say something.


    ¡°That phoenix feather,¡± I started, deciding on my first question, swallowing my immediate urge to ask that one searing question instead. ¡°The one you left for me. Could you tell me where you got it?¡± S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The djinn cocked his head, the edges of his lips turning into a frown. ¡°It was given as a gift,¡± the djinn said in reply. ¡°By the arrogant Prince of the Asclepius Clan. In turn for the truth of my people¡¯s genocide, he left it behind for me.¡± J¡¯ntarion looked at my core, his eyes piercing a line straight through. ¡°I never understood why before. It was a paltry sum for alleviating his ignorance. But it seems it has been put to use, hasn¡¯t it? There are now others besides just Indrath and Vritra.¡± The djinn looked at Sevren Denoir, causing him to take a step backward. ¡°And what are you here for, Artificer? You seek answers too, do you not?¡±


    Sevren shuffled. His face was pale as he was faced with this eventuality. I wondered what thoughts he cycled through. How long did he debate each question? Would he regret which one he voiced? Some part of us both knew that we wouldn¡¯t get another chance at this. He needed to make his words count. Something he wouldn¡¯t regret.


    ¡°Our people are still oppressed by the asura, ancient one. Not the dragons. But the basilisks of the Vritra clan. We are pawns to them; groups to test and experiment on. You know, don¡¯t you?¡± The white-haired striker grew quiet. He looked up. ¡°My tutor was a kind woman. She¡¯d been employed by my Blood for over fifty years, teaching generation after generation of our scions how to read. How to interact. How to live.¡± Sevren closed his eyes. ¡°She was taken by the Sovereigns for their experiments. I never saw her again. And I live with the knowledge it can happen to anyone for any reason.¡± He walked up to the djinn, before falling on his knees before the ancient mage. ¡°Anyone in my family can be taken for the Vritra¡¯s sick games.¡± He looked up at the djinn like a believer seeking supplication. ¡°And aether can do anything. Anything.¡±


    The djinn¡¯s eyes traced over Sevren¡¯s form. My heartbeat began to accelerate as I waited with bated breath for the ancient mage¡¯s response.


    Arthur had never spoken with a true djinn in his times in the Tombs, only Remnants lacking critical pieces of information. Here was someone whose understanding of the world dwarfed any I¡¯d met.


    I felt a part of me yearning to ask another question. One I wouldn¡¯t dare utter in front of even Sevren Denoir. Could I change this world?


    Distantly, thunder rumbled.


    ¡°As you are, you will never master aether,¡± the djinn said coolly, his words cracking across Sevren like a blade. ¡°This spellform of yours, the one that allows you to grasp the innate purpose of artifacts and mechanisms, is a limit. Aether cannot be understood by discovering everything it is not, Artificer. There is no single intention to Entropy. It is everything and it is nothing. Your very methods are flawed.¡± The djinn spared me a glance. ¡±Twinsoul¡¯s understanding of aether is limited by itself, and I suspect he grasped Truth simply because of his outside perspectives of innate energies¨Cor lack thereof¨Cproviding him an advantage.¡±


    Sevren wilted. ¡°You say I¡¯ll never master aether,¡± the striker said, looking at the ground with a void in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m doomed to fail, aren¡¯t I? Destined to?¡±


    I felt my throat constrict. Sevren would die in these Relictombs, wouldn¡¯t he? His corpse would be dissolved by a massive millipede, leaving nothing left. Nothing but his dagger and cloak.


    And I¡¯d already taken the dagger.


    I walked forward stiltedly, laying a hand on Sevren¡¯s back as tears gathered in his eyes. The djinn loomed like a statue above us both, barely any movement coming from his form. Far in the distance, rain began to fall over the unending plains.


    I¡¯m sorry, I thought, clenching my eyes shut. I¡¯m sorry, Sevren. I¡¯m sorry for your future.


    ¡°Your Fate is no longer destined for failure alone,¡± the djinn said to Sevren. Though J¡¯ntarion looked through the white-haired striker, I felt his attention on me. ¡°There are routes to a better future. Ones that you can affect that would not be possible without your touch. It is always possible to caress the fabric of the universe, if only you know how.¡± The djinn knelt down in front of Sevren, resting a hand over his core. ¡°And I can give you a helping hand for that future.¡±


    The spellforms along the djinn¡¯s hands alit with purple power, thrumming as tendrils of aether probed at Sevren¡¯s sternum. Slowly, a new rune etched itself over the white-haired striker¡¯s chest, blazing a deep violet. ¡°With this spellform, you may visit any zone you have seen before,¡± J¡¯ntarion said, still kneeling. The white-haired striker looked at his own chest with a fascination that was between terror and awe. ¡°Our resting place was designed to allow challengers to traverse the same zones multiple times, but our compasses have been lost to time. This shall give you a chance.¡±


    The djinn exhaled, and suddenly, his cheeks looked far more hollow. His skin seemed to sag. I abruptly realized I couldn¡¯t sense his lifeforce any longer, some sort of cloaking effect preventing my senses from piercing the veil. I raised a hand, but the ancient mage shoved it away.


    ¡°Keep your healing to yourself, Twinsoul,¡± the djinn said, his breath ragged. ¡°My time has long been approaching. You only extended the end. You and your accursed Bond.¡±


    J¡¯ntarion stood, standing tall despite his pink-toned body visibly aging. Wrinkles seemed to crease his skin in real time, akin to fabric folding itself or trenches opening in oceanic crust. ¡°One last thing, Artificer. Show Twinsoul the ¡®relic¡¯ you wield. It will benefit you both.¡±


    Sevren didn¡¯t seem to hear. He was too busy looking at his hands, his jaw agape.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I interrupted, recognizing what was coming. ¡°Will these Tombs still be so affected by my presence?¡± I asked, thinking of the undead zone. ¡°Will others be drawn into such zones again?¡±


    The djinn¡¯s breathing was becoming more ragged. The infusion of lifeforce I¡¯d given him was only a temporary fix. ¡°You and your pretentious Bond need not worry about such things any longer,¡± he said with a dismissive, slightly condescending huff. ¡°The Collective¨Cbarely sentient as is¨Cdid not know how to react to your presence. It will not happen again, especially once I meld with it as the last djinn to do so.¡±


    Aurora chose that moment to appear, the Unseen World washing over my vision. She watched the last djinn of the Relictombs, her sunlit eyes hard. He returned the stare, a pinched look on his wrinkled, pink brows. ¡°Are you so willing to accept the Beyond?¡± my bond questioned. ¡°To depart into what comes next?¡±


    The djinn laughed. ¡°So like you phoenixes, to fear death,¡± he said with amusement, his body seeming to bleed away its color. ¡°You fight and fight to survive, building yourselves from the brink. Always resisting the end. Yet despite your control of your own bodies, you were never known as the People of Life.¡± His pigments fuzzed out further. ¡°We valued life because of what we could create. New experiences; new joys, new wonders.¡±


    J¡¯ntarion stumbled backward. I moved to catch him, but it was surprisingly Aurora who did so, her normally incorporeal form slowly lowering him to the ground. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, phoenix,¡± he said with a cough. ¡°We always contribute to filling Entropy in the end. But the truest wrong is cutting away that chance to build upon the collective. To be killed prematurely is the greatest tragedy a djinn can experience. But my death is far from premature.¡± He exhaled. ¡°I¡¯m old,¡± he said, his eyes becoming a bit glassy. ¡°The last of the Watchers. Waiting for thousands upon thousands of years for the slight chance of a descendant. How ironic is it that my hope comes from the dreadful asura who wiped us out?¡±


    Sevren stood next to me, watching the scene with a complicated expression. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He seemed to be struggling to comprehend all that had happened in the past few minutes.


    I didn¡¯t blame him. I knew the Relictombs had their own bare sentience, but I¡¯d gotten a name for it now. The Collective. And from what the djinn implied, Sevren¡¯s Fate¨Cwhich I thought inevitable¨Chad been broken.


    That meant other eventualities could be changed. I could change this world. My actions would have consequences. Real ones.


    Watching this djinn die caused a strange, convoluted knot to clench in my chest, clashing with the tingling euphoria of my changes being confirmed. The two battled for dominance in my mind; each trying desperately to overwhelm my thoughts.


    ¡°Twinsoul,¡± the djinn¡¯s ragged voice rang out. ¡°Come here.¡±


    I stumbled forward, kneeling by this ancient being¡¯s side. ¡°What is it? What do you need of me?¡± I asked, caught between a sort of reverence and pity.


    ¡°You want to know how the djinn maintained our peace?¡± he said breathily, his eyes unfocused. No longer did they pierce every veil. Now they were only dull pinpricks of purple. ¡°How we avoided shedding blood for half a dozen millennia?¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°Tell me,¡± I quietly begged. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°Closer, Twinsoul. Closer,¡± he eked out, each breath carrying the dust of centuries. Aurora held him gently, her hands no longer burning him.


    I leaned closer, moving my ear so it was over his cracked and broken lips.


    The djinn¡¯s skin sagged even further, tightening around his bones. He looked like a corpse long buried, even as he still spoke. ¡°It begins with understanding,¡± he said quietly, his words a whisper. ¡°And you are already following the path. That of connection and emotion shared. To convey the fullness of self.¡± His gnarled hands grasped my own. ¡°Do not let it go.¡±


    I felt tears threaten the edges of my eyes as a storm raged beyond our safe haven. The pulse of thunder reverberated through my bones. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I promised. ¡°I won¡¯t let peace die with you.¡±


    I thought I saw a glimmer of something in those fading eyes, but I wasn¡¯t sure.


    And so it was, at the eye of the storm in a Tomb long prepared, the heartfire of the last of the Watchers was finally extinguished.

 Chapter 112: The Relic

    Sevren Denoir


    The mock fire crackled and popped, spraying embers in a two-dimensional panorama. I stared at it mutely, my mind empty.


    The light emanating from the strange, flat box mimicked a flame perfectly, down to the sounds and flares. It was like watching a painting move, except this was too real to be a painting. It was too bright to be oil on a canvas, too, and I felt no mana from the strange construct.


    There were similar devices on the wealthier sections of Alacrya; where recorded images were displayed over a wall of pure mana.


    Toren had called the box a ¡®tee vee,¡¯ and had briefly explained that my offhand guess on what it was doing was correct. Only instead of paintings, he¡¯d called them ¡®frames.¡¯


    I thought that was foolish. A frame held a painting. It wasn¡¯t the painting in and of itself.


    I slumped on the luxurious couch, devoid of energy. I watched one of the embers fly from the mock fire, tracing its path across the luminescent screen.


    Toren walked in from the kitchen, a couple of those metal cans in his hands. From the labeling, I recognized them as that strange, bubbly drink he¡¯d given me once before.


    One of the cans floated over to me, outlined in Toren¡¯s white telekinesis. I stared at it for a long while, a quiet war raging within over to take the offered drink. Toren himself sat on a nearby leather couch, popping the tab of his drink with a hiss.


    I eventually caved, taking the cold drink. While Toren practically chugged his vanilla Coke like an alcoholic, I had to take more measured sips. The bubbly sensation in my mouth was too strange to go all in like my friend.


    ¡°What¡¯s the point of that fire?¡± I asked, tapping my finger against the can. ¡°Sure, it emits light, but there¡¯s those artifacts overhead that do that.¡± I still hadn¡¯t figured out how those worked, exactly. There wasn¡¯t any mana in them. They probably worked through electricity, like those earmuffs from before. ¡°And there¡¯s no warmth at all. Just a flat screen.¡±


    Toren crumpled the empty can in his hand, then tossed it into a wastebasket across the room with a casual gesture. He was the one who had put on the strange moving painting of fire after we¡¯d buried the ancient mage, using a dark stick that allowed him to alter what was displayed on the tee vee. He navigated through this place like a natural, but it felt so alien to me.


    My friend hummed for a moment, before holding out his palm. On it, a fire sputtered to life.


    ¡°There are some estates in Alacrya where the entire place is heated by artifacts rather than a hearth,¡± he started. ¡°Fire is a strange thing. So many people view it as a tool of destruction. But it¡¯s just as much¨Cif not more so¨Ca tool of life in its purest form. Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t find yourself missing a hearth every now and then?¡±


    I ground my teeth, staring at that flickering mockery of fire. ¡°But it¡¯ll never actually emit warmth,¡± I said, my breath a knot in my chest. ¡°It¡¯ll try and try to be a fire. But it fundamentally can¡¯t. It will keep popping away, sizzling like a flame. But it will never actually reach that goal. It¡¯s pointless. Empty.¡±


    Toren turned slowly to look at me, his light orange eyes peering into my own. I felt myself tense like a cat as he looked through me, not unlike the djinn I¡¯d watched die.


    ¡°Do you think the emotions that faux-flame creates are meaningless, too?¡± the strange striker asked. ¡°That there¡¯s nothing to be gained from it? Someone who can¡¯t light a fire can still feel a bit like they¡¯re gathered around a hearth.¡±


    I scoffed, crossing my arms. ¡°But it will never be what it needs to be,¡± I bit out. ¡°That bit of comfort is meaningless then, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s false. A mask for the emptiness.¡±


    Toren was quiet. ¡°This isn¡¯t about the fire, is it?¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s about what the djinn said. About your work on aether. How your methods were flawed and inconclusive.¡±


    I hissed, jumping to my feet. ¡°And how would you know that?¡± I snapped. Fire surged in my gut, so much more real than on that godforsaken box. ¡°You¡¯ve been content to bounce around in your little smidge of a town, fighting a losing battle. For years, I¡¯ve been in the wider world, trying to find something to change my situation! What do you know about my work on aether?¡±


    Toren looked up at me, something sorrowful in his face. He scanned the room as I stood tense, something inscrutable flashing beneath. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to have dreams and goals that will never come true,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°And your forays into aether haven¡¯t been pointless, Sevren. You found me. You found a djinn; the last to live in these Tombs. Perhaps one route is closed. But you do have another, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I deflated slightly, thinking of the strange, purple rune the djinn had emblazoned on my chest. I hadn¡¯t had a chance to test it out, but part of me didn¡¯t want to. One of the ancient mages themselves had told me my entire methodology was wrong. How could I even change that?


    I¡¯d relied for so long on my regalia, Scouring Purpose, to give me hints on how to affect aether. And while I¡¯d never outright manipulated the underlying fabric of the universe, I¡¯d found workarounds. I utilized what was already naturally occurring, finding new and interesting ways to reapply those functions. And I¡¯d come so far. I¡¯d even managed to track someone through the Relictombs.


    It couldn¡¯t be all for nothing. The djinn had been wrong, somehow. Somewhere.


    I prodded at the rune on my chest with mana. I felt a reaction, but couldn¡¯t tell what it was doing. Besides, the action was halfhearted at best. I didn¡¯t have the energy to actually push through.


    Toren spoke up next. ¡°The djinn also said the relic you carry would help us both,¡± he said, obviously trying to keep me from thinking too long. ¡°Maybe that will give you a clue on where to start?¡±


    I sighed, rifling through my dimension ring. Inquirers¨Cthe artifacts used to detect relics on ascenders when they left the Tombs¨Cwere only able to sense their aether for a short time afterward. I¡¯d learned from testing that whatever signature they honed in on diminished once the artifact was outside of the Relictombs for a longer period of time. Thus, I felt a lot less anxiety in hauling it around.


    A familiar weight settled into my hand. A small, stylized brooch stared back. It was a tarnished bronze color, the tufts made of intricately sculpted metal. It looked like a single feather. The metalwork was so realistic, the only giveaway that it wasn¡¯t a true plume was the off color.


    Out of habit, I tried to prod at the strange metal with my mana. There was no visible reaction, of course. There never had been. I wouldn¡¯t have even realized this artifact was special without my aether-detecting compass.


    Which was also destroyed, now.


    Toren perked up immediately when I withdrew the relic, his eyes focused intently on it. There was a strange scrunch to his brows that he sometimes had, as if his mind were elsewhere but simultaneously not.


    ¡°That relic,¡± he said slowly. ¡°It has a pulse. I can hear it faintly.¡± My strange friend seemed to be visibly restraining himself from reaching for the relic.


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    ¡°What do you mean you can hear it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Every person has a mote of aether within themselves that anchors their soul to their body,¡± Toren said. ¡°That¡¯s what your little compass was able to track in me. And I have a unique way of sensing that aether: through sound.¡±


    I looked down at the featherlike brooch. ¡°Are you saying this thing has a soul?¡± I asked, holding it closer.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Toren replied, moving closer. ¡°The way I engaged that aether portal back in the undead zone? I heard a heartbeat from within and traced that to find where I needed to interact. And I don¡¯t think that portal had a soul.¡± My friend paused. ¡°At least I hope it didn¡¯t. But the point is, you can have that unique aether signature without a soul to tie in.¡±


    He held out his hand. I stared at the proffered limb for a moment, thinking of what I was about to do.


    I¡¯d smuggled this relic out of the Tombs a few months back, and Toren was the sole person I¡¯d told. The chances of being reported to a Scythe or even one of the Sovereigns were too high. One slip up and the entirety of my family would be burned to the ground. Everyone I knew and loved would be ash on the wind. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But Toren was similar, in a way. I didn¡¯t know where he found that ghostly asura, or what their relationship truly was. I didn¡¯t know how he¡¯d come across this other land, where drinks were fizzy and boxes mimicked fire. But we knew our paths were fraught with danger.


    I had my secrets. Every person did, and part of me despised the act entirely. If everyone was honest, then there would be no need for covert cloak-and-dagger politics and hidden messages.


    But Toren¡¯s secrets surpassed even my own. I didn¡¯t want to draw too much attention to him from my own family, so I hadn¡¯t utilized their information networks to dig up his past. What I did know, however, was that Toren Daen was a talented mage who¡¯d lost his brother in a scuffle with one of the local Blood families of Fiachra.


    A few months later, Toren burned their estate to the ground, wiping out the bloodline of those who had assaulted his sibling in one fell swoop.


    I understood that. If anyone were to harm Caera, I¡¯d leave nothing behind of their lives, either.


    But that left so many holes. Where had he encountered that strange, ghostly Bond of his? When did he visit this strange other land he spoke of? And what in the High Sovereign¡¯s name was he really aiming for? He was a box of locked secrets, one I¡¯d only just started to unravel. One I wanted to unravel.


    But those questions could wait. For right now, I knew I could trust him with this deepest secret of my own.


    I let the relic fall into his hands, watching intently for any sort of reaction. I¡¯d been unable to prompt any sort of effects from it since I¡¯d found it, but Toren was different. The young man had an effect on aether that was direct and pronounced. Maybe¡­


    Toren focused intently on the little sliver of bronzish metal. I was about to ask what he was going to try, before his hands lit up with the color of the sky during sunset. The same vivum arts he¡¯d performed during the end of the undead zone flared to life between his palms where he held the feather.


    I felt my heart pick up in speed as I watched the small relic absorb the light. Sweat beaded on my temples as I tapped a nervous rhythm against my thigh. This was more of a reaction than I¡¯d ever achieved.


    ¡°What are you doing, exactly?¡± I asked quietly, hoping I could figure out what was happening. The djinn had claimed my methods were flawed. So I needed to understand what did work. ¡°I see that strange light you use to heal, but can¡¯t sense anything.¡±


    ¡°Everyone has a bit of lifeforce. Heartfire. Soultether. Whatever you want to call it. But we also generate a little bit of excess.¡± Toren exhaled softly, not taking his eyes off the small relic. It drank in the light, absorbing it like a sponge in water. ¡°I¡¯m able to directly manipulate my own lifeforce, and I¡¯m funneling that excess into this relic. It seems to keep wanting to¨C¡±


    Then the small feather began to glow red-hot. Toren dropped the relic with a surprised yell, the smoking relic singing a hole in the carpet. For a moment, he stooped to pick it up again, his mana barrier flaring into place. Then he paused, an expression of shock and fear stretching across his face.


    ¡°Aurora?!¡± Toren called, suddenly dismissive of the relic entirely, even as it began to spark onto the surrounding carpet. ¡°Aurora, what happened? I can¡¯t hear you any longer! Are you safe?!¡±


    I darted toward Toren, grabbing his arm and yanking him away from the feather. I put some mana-empowered strength into it, and Toren didn¡¯t even seem to realize I was dragging him away, a distant look in his eyes.


    One of the things I¡¯d learned very early on in my experimentation was when something started to glow, that meant it was about to explode. I should¡¯ve expected this, I admonished myself. No testing! No safe environment! No metrics to keep anything safe! I leapt to the edge of the room, bracing myself behind one of the couches. Toren stumbled to my side, utterly disoriented for some reason.


    ¡°Brace for impact,¡± I said, making my body heavier with my regalia, Dictate of Mass, to avoid getting blown away by any force. A darkish hue overlaid my body. The floor creaked as the pressure on it increased.


    You¡¯re usually much better on your feet, Toren, I thought through gritted teeth, preparing for a blast. If I didn¡¯t have to take care of your sorry ass, I¡¯d have jumped out of the window!


    I braced for impact. Three seconds passed. Then five. Then ten.


    I cautiously peeked around the edge of the couch, peering at where the feather was.


    And froze. It looked like molten metal as it pulsed and stretched, elongating in multiple directions. It churned like a bowl of water as it impossibly grew in size, flaring brighter colors in a pattern. It flashed like¡­ like a heartbeat.


    I thought I saw the start of some sort of limb; thin and rigid. And a few more feathers, all made of that strange metal. I stared with a slack jaw as this strange transformation took place.


    But Toren wasn¡¯t so complacent anymore. He rushed past me, blocking my line of sight as he practically leapt at the little construct. Toren knelt down, scooping the still-scorching metal into his hands.


    I mutely walked to his side, staring down into his palms.


    A little, clockwork songbird stumbled across Toren¡¯s fingers, still faintly glowing red. Its feathers were sharpened blades, each that chromish-bronze shade. Gears whirred and clicked along its plated body, small valves along its back puffing purple-orange mist. It¡¯s beak was a lighter color, the metal seeming less tarnished than everywhere else.


    I remembered and old wind-up toy I¡¯d been given as a child, many years ago. It was a bird, not unlike what I saw before me. I¡¯d crank the little spindle at its back, then release. The toy would hop on its own like a sparrow until the compressed tension finally ran out.


    But this didn¡¯t look like a toy. There was a sleekness to the design that hinted at exquisite workmanship, the stylized dips and curves of the metal only possible from a master smith. Tiny feathers, each shards of metal in and of themselves, adorned the underbelly of the thing. Light the color of a waxing sunset shone from between the gears.


    But the eyes. It was the eyes that were most familiar to me. For instead of a bead of glass or a simple sprocket, two churning specks of plasma stared out. Two condensed suns lit up the world from within that little clockwork bird.


    ¡°Aurora?¡± Toren said with a cautious voice. The relic in his hands¨Cwhich had somehow morphed into what looked like a sparrow made of interlocking metal gears, shards, and plates¨Cpuffed a breath of orange-purple light in response.


    Toren¡¯s body suddenly relaxed as he looked to the side, peering at something I couldn¡¯t see. He smiled, that strange look coming over his eyes.


    Not too dissimilar to the look the Frost twins had when they conversed over their telepathic link. Is he talking to his Bond? I thought absently. The asura that had latched onto Toren had only been visible to me for the short period we¡¯d interacted with the djinn, and I hadn¡¯t had time to question it¨Cher?--about anything related to aether. I assumed she¡¯d simply become a ghost again.


    ¡°Ah,¡± a deep, melodic voice said. ¡°Ahhhh,¡± it continued, rising in pitch and tone in an almost sing-song way.


    My attention snapped away from the golden-haired striker to the little clockwork bird in his hands. It was struggling to pull itself to its feet, simultaneously making those strange testing noises. Its tiny metal joints shifted and changed.


    I moved over, kneeling to look at the relic. It was speaking! Was it some sort of conduit to a djinn? Or maybe it had a recorded message inside?


    ¡°This body is strange,¡± the bird said, finally managing to get its little legs under it. ¡°But this is no less wonderful, Contractor,¡± it continued, shuffling to look up at an awestruck Toren. Its wings made a sound like knives being sharpened as they shifted across each other. Clicks sounded from within the frame. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d have physical form again.¡±

 Chapter 113: Like Clockwork

    Toren Daen


    I cradled the metal bird in my hands, looking from it to the asuran shade at my side and back again. ¡°Aurora?¡± I asked uncertainly. My vision was coated in the misting layers of the Unseen World, revealing her to my sight just by my shoulder. That helped me relax. At the exact second I¡¯d finished imbuing the relic with lifeforce, all my communication with her had shut off for a brief moment. Feeling that reassuring tether to my mind allowed my shoulders to slump.


    My bond twitched her finger, and the bird stumbled slightly. ¡°This is strange,¡± she said, both the ghostly shade and the little clockwork relic emitting the words. ¡°As if I am in two places at once. To influence this craft¡­¡±


    Aurora bore a look of extreme concentration on her dusky purple face. Her finger twitched again, and I could swear I heard some sort of humming as the bird shifted again.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Toren?¡± Sevren said, staring intently at the little bird in my hands. ¡°Is it¡­ Your bond? Is it in there, somehow?¡±


    ¡°Not quite, Artificer,¡± Lady Dawn replied. ¡°Though your supposition was close. You are still ever the scientist with your observations.¡±


    My bond clenched her hands, and the bird finally stabilized itself. The eyes of the little steampunk sparrow mimicked those of my bond, and the unique color of my lifeforce bled through the tiny cracks in its burnished metal. ¡°I am merely puppeteering this relic. Guiding it along strings.¡±


    I honed in on that strange buzz, finally sensing the connection my Bond had made with the little bird. I raised a hand, brushing it through the open air.


    When my fingers passed through where I heard the rhythm, I got flashes of sensation. Wispy vision, heightened mana senses, and more. I saw myself from a tiny perspective, looking upward with sharp eyes. I looked into my own eyes.


    I got a flash of what Aurora sees through the relic, I realized after a moment, the strange split perspective of seeing two separate and conflicting images making me nauseous for a moment.


    As Aurora tested her tethers, she gradually became more adept at making the little relic move. From what I¡¯d sensed, she didn¡¯t have a sense of touch, but her other senses were heightened in the little construct.


    The bronze sparrow flapped its wings, rotating its neck to turn around. ¡°It has been so long since I could affect the physical world,¡± the little bird said, sounding almost mournful. With an effort of direction, my bond directed the little sparrow toward Sevren. ¡°You have given me much, allowing my Contractor to brush this relic. More than you may know, Artificer.¡±


    I thought of how Aurora was forever condemned to watch from the sidelines. She could never speak to another besides me. I was essentially her one and only keeper. And I could never imagine living such a sheltered existence.


    From how her emotions fluctuated, I knew Aurora herself was struggling to truly reconcile this new situation. She could affect things now. She could talk to people. Have a life outside what she watched like an absent spectator.


    Sevren looked at me, a strange pinch to his face, before orienting on the bird in my hands. ¡°That relic isn¡¯t yours, asura,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s mine. And I never agreed to give it to you.¡±


    The clockwork bird stopped abruptly. The only sound I heard was the faint whirring from within the frame, puffs of purple mist exiting a small valve. ¡°You will keep this from me?¡± she said, her voice restrained. But I could tell Sevren¡¯s words had struck a nerve. ¡°What would you ask for in return?¡±


    ¡°I want to know,¡± the Denoir heir said after a moment, ¡°What you want. I¡¯ve been told that I won¡¯t succeed with my own methods. But you¡¯re¡­ asura, aren¡¯t you? Where do your loyalties lie?¡±


    He presumes to demand answers of me, Aurora said over our bond, a hiss to her voice. To hold such a valuable prize before my eyes. The audacity of this lesser¡­


    His concerns are valid, I replied. He knows so little of us.


    The asuran shade huffed. Very well, Contractor. I shall answer him. But if he continues to leverage this against me¨C


    He won¡¯t, I replied. He can¡¯t afford to lose this avenue of aetheric research.


    The little bird Aurora was piloting managed to stand on its own two feet, then tested walking forward and backward. ¡°I wish for those I love to survive,¡± the clockwork said. ¡°To continue as you are. For my family and those I hold dear.¡±


    Sevren looked a bit uncomfortable. ¡°And who do those loved ones serve?¡± he said. ¡°Indrath? Vritra?¡±


    ¡°This is why you fail in your pursuit of aether, Artificer,¡± Aurora said, a regal, mocking note to the voice echoing from her clockwork beak. ¡°You think in terms of black and white. Is and is not. Yin and yang. But there are always more choices. More nuance than you wish to perceive, Artificer.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question, Aurora¨C¡± Sevren started, but my bond cut him off imperiously.


    ¡°You will not call me by that name, Artificer,¡± she said, a snap to her tone that clacked with her beak. ¡°I am Lady Dawn. Few are allowed to use my true name. You are not among those privileged.¡±


    I looked up at Sevren uncomfortably. The Denoir heir¡¯s assertion of his ownership of the relic had¨Cfor lack of a better term¨Cruffled Aurora¡¯s feathers deeply. She thought she would finally have a mote of freedom, only to quickly realize even this had strings attached.


    The white-haired striker¡¯s brow furrowed, his teeth gritted. He didn¡¯t like the arrogance in my bond¡¯s tone. ¡°Okay. So you¡¯re saying you don¡¯t serve Lord Indrath or the High Sovereign?¡±


    ¡°I serve none but myself and those I love,¡± Lady Dawn bit back, the little bird glaring up at Sevren. ¡°I care not for Lord Indrath nor your petty High Sovereign. Does that satisfy you, Artificer?¡±


    ¡°It might,¡± the Denoir heir said. ¡°But if you want to use that relic, I¡¯m going to test and observe the effects it has on aether. That¡¯s my condition.¡±


    The clockwork bird¡¯s feathers ruffled, a sound like knives being sharpened echoing across the room. The fire on the TV popped. ¡°You demand conditions,¡± Aurora stated, quietly angry.


    ¡°You asura walk over us constantly,¡± Sevren said, though he looked more nervous as the little bronze construct glared at him. ¡°You claim to be different from Lord Indrath and the High Sovereign, but I only have your word. Actions make people, not words.¡±


    I felt Aurora¡¯s anger simmer down at that final statement. The truth was, Lady Dawn herself had acknowledged the asura¡¯s treatment of ¡®lessers¡¯ was to justify their own relative tyranny. Visible only to me, I watched as my Bond¡¯s face morphed into something far more uncomfortable.


    Sevren was bold.


    ¡°Your point is made,¡± Aurora said. I got the impression the brows on the little bronze construct were shifting, too. ¡°We will catalog the effects we understand.¡±


    The white-haired striker looked surprised for a moment. Absently, I wondered if he expected Aurora to deny him. And if he had asked before my First Sculpting, she probably would have.


    She¡¯s changing, I thought as Sevren began asking questions about the asura¡¯s control of the relic. My Bond gave short, curt answers. No, she wasn¡¯t actually inhabiting the thing. It was like a puppet on a string. Yes, she was using tethers of lifeforce to direct it somehow. No, she didn¡¯t know exactly how she was doing so. It was instinctual. She¡¯s becoming more¡­ more human.


    The realization almost made me smile, but my Bond was already worn emotionally thin by the events earlier in the day. She was enduring Sevren¡¯s probing questions as he devolved into what could be called ¡®engineer mode,¡¯ but I could sense that patience was reaching its limit.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Hey, Sevren,¡± I said, cutting him off before he could ask another question to the little bird in my hand. It was still strange that I heard Aurora¡¯s voice from two places at once. ¡°My Bond could probably use some time to adapt and test her control of this relic before answering any questions about it.¡±


    The Denoir heir looked at me, his mouth open and ready to protest. But the warning flash in my eyes told him the unspoken message. Later.


    He exhaled sharply through his nose. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, standing stiffly. ¡°I¡¯ll explore this zone for a while instead. If you discover anything, come find me.¡±


    I watched him walk out of the house with a grateful wave. His shoulders weren¡¯t as slumped as they were before. He¡¯d entered this house feeling defeated and aimless. I hoped these interactions had given him back a sense of purpose.


    I didn¡¯t know if Sevren could truly unlock the secrets of aether, but I hoped he¡¯d find a way forward. The djinn claimed he was no longer Fated to fail. But that didn¡¯t narrow down his true future.


    ¡°I am grateful for your intervention, Toren,¡± Aurora said. ¡°My patience was waning in the face of his enthusiasm.¡±


    I looked from the clockwork bird to the asuran shade at my side. ¡°Which one should I respond to?¡± I asked, a slight smirk on my face. ¡°The bird, or the bird?¡±


    To my credit, Aurora cracked a slight smirk herself. It looked alien on her normally stiff features, but all the same, it was a beautiful sight.


    I need to help her smile and laugh more, I thought. She needs it. Maybe even more than I do.


    ¡°This is still my true form,¡± Lady Dawn said to me from the ghostly apparition I knew so well. She shifted her fingers, flexing in a way that made the air hum only to my lifeforce-attuned ears. The little clockwork bird flapped its wings, then jumped onto my shoulder, settling itself there. ¡°Though amusing, I would find it highly rude if you gave this little trinket more attention than I.¡±


    A silence stretched through the room in the aftermath of those words. There was a nervous weight to my bond¡¯s emotions that needed to be addressed. After watching the last djinn of the tombs die in her arms and all the heated exchanges between them beforehand, there needed to be release.


    ¡°You said to the djinn that your husband gave you his body after he died,¡± I said, breaking the silence like scissors through twine. ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡±


    I knew what it was like to restrain one¡¯s grief. To bottle it up. And my Bond was clearly far from working through her own sorrow. That same mournful note stretched over our tether at every mention of her djinnic body and her late husband.


    Aurora walked closer to me, her orange robes shifting. She slowly knelt, settling into a seiza position by my side. She kept her eyes forward, even as she reached out an arm toward me.


    The little clockwork bird, following her command, hopped from my shoulder and settled into her own waiting fingers. She inspected it with those blazing eyes of hers, two sets of simmering suns locking together.


    ¡°I never understood why your kind changed so often,¡± Lady Dawn said, caressing the bird with one hand. It appeared to lean into her touch, the movement of the metal far too smooth for something so mechanical. ¡°Every hundred years, your cultures become unrecognizable from what they were before. So much to keep up with. For all that you accomplish, it seems petty to us who live for so long.¡±


    Sensing the emotion churning under the surface, I laid a hand on my Bond¡¯s shoulder. I hoped it came off as comforting. A sign that she wasn¡¯t alone.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize my husband was aging until it was nigh the end,¡± Aurora continued. ¡°For me, our relationship was a blink of an eye. The most wonderful, beautiful flash of color in a world that had gone gray, but still a blink. And when he lay dying, only then did I realize what I stood to lose.¡± The little relic crooned, a puff of orange-purple mist leaving a valve on its back. ¡°I offered the arts of my clan to him. I could reforge him. Build him up again, so he may never feel the weight of his mortal lifespan. We could live eternally. Together, ready to explore the stars.¡±


    ¡°But he denied you,¡± I said, seeing where this was leading. ¡°He wished to die.¡±


    My bond shook slightly. I clenched my hand on her shoulder. ¡°He did,¡± she said, her voice near cracking. ¡°He said that his finity was where he drew his meaning. He would not risk living forever. He saw it as a curse. It was something he pitied me for, I think. It was strange.¡± Lady Dawn cocked her head, her deep red hair shifting to cover her face slightly. ¡°We asura look down on you for your limited existence. And the greatest of you pity us for our nigh eternity. What a paradox that is,¡± she said, quietly thoughtful. ¡°But he wouldn¡¯t leave me alone. Even if we could never see the stars together, he would still grant a part of himself to live with me in that eternity.¡±


    ¡°He gave you his body to reforge yourself with,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°But I failed to see any light in the aftermath,¡± Aurora said, her breathing starting to become less controlled. ¡°Even as I remade my Fire, the flame of my own passions withered and died. I had a piece of Andravhor always with me. But the greatest thing he¡¯d left me¡­ I wasn¡¯t there for him when he needed me.¡±


    A single, molten tear streaked down Aurora¡¯s face. Like liquid flame, the fiery dewdrop trailed heat down her cheek. When it fell into her hand where the bird still sat, it sizzled on contact. ¡°I was not alone in my grief. Little Chul hurt so much. Wonderful, honest, passionate Chul. He needed me in the absence of his father. Needed his mother. But every time I saw his eyes, I saw Andravhor¡¯s reflection.¡±


    My bond visibly shook, more tears streaming from her face as her emotions released. I moved closer, wrapping the shade in an embrace. I closed my eyes, trying to convey the fullness of what I felt. I was here for her. I didn¡¯t judge her for her past mistakes. She needed a shoulder to lean on, and mine was always open.


    ¡°I avoided my own son,¡± Aurora said, weeping. ¡°The day for his First Sculpting came and went. His rites of passage¨Cwhich I should have been there for¨Cwere ignored. Left to dust. And when my brother asked for an envoy to contact Agrona, I was the first to volunteer.¡±


    I felt as the lifeforce I¡¯d imbued into the clockwork relic finally faded away. The strings Aurora had tied to it fuzzed out as the animatronic began to morph and shift, gradually shrinking once more into a feathered brooch. The phoenix at my side didn¡¯t seem to notice.


    ¡°I think I knew even then,¡± Lady Dawn said. ¡°I knew I wouldn¡¯t be coming back. I was running. Running from my own son. Running into the waiting arms of a tyrant who would slowly kill me. But I went anyways.¡±


    The gaping void where my Bond¡¯s heart used to be bled anew as she wept, tears like red-hot magma mixing with crimson blood. Through it all I cradled her close, determined to support the distraught phoenix in any way I could.


    ¡ª


    Sometime later, Aurora had thoroughly wrung herself dry. The asuran shade had practically fuzzed into incorporeality as she bled away her built-up tension, resigning herself to further rest. In my hands, I held the bronze brooch. It looked old and elegant, like a fine wine that had only grown more flavorful with age. It wouldn¡¯t look out of place on the coat of a suit jacket from my old world.


    I turned it over, feeling the divots of the metal under my skin. If it weren¡¯t for the slight heartbeat I heard from the metal, I would have never guessed it to be a relic.


    I heard the door to the house closing, Sevren¡¯s steps plodding toward me warily. I looked up at him as he approached.


    His hair was slightly disheveled, and I saw distinct bags under his eyes. He¡¯d clearly done more than simply scout the zone in the time I¡¯d comforted Aurora.


    ¡°It changed back to the brooch?¡± Sevren asked, his voice hoarse. He adopted an expression of interest, which helped to mask the redness around his eyes.


    Considering how ragged his voice sounds, I think he was probably screaming outside. It was strange how both the people accompanying me needed to release their stress at the same time.


    ¡°Once the lifeforce I imbued into it waned, it reverted on its own,¡± I said, turning the feather over again. It was smooth under my skin, almost like touching the surface of a still pond. ¡°My Bond is resting now. When she¡¯s awake next, I¡¯ll have her tell you about what she experienced with the relic.¡±


    Sevren slumped against a wall, just as drained as I. In the past few hours, we¡¯d gone through so much.


    Watching J¡¯ntarion die hurt something in me. It was like watching a man from the Roman Empire lamenting the fall of his own dynasty, before withering away. It was sad. Sorrowful.


    Yet it was distant from me. My experience of multiple worlds¨Cand my own perspectives¨Cset me apart from the Relictombs to a degree. I could empathize with the tragedy of what I witnessed, but it wasn¡¯t personal. It was like watching a play.


    But for Sevren, watching the djinn die killed something inside of him as well. I didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d been searching for answers about aether, but it had to be a significant portion of his life. I¡¯d merely watched the play, yet Sevren was one of the characters on stage.


    We¡¯d buried J¡¯ntarion¡¯s body on a nearby hill just outside the range of the thunderstorm. I wondered if Sevren buried a part of himself alongside the djinn.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I brought you here,¡± I said quietly, clenching my hands around the relic. ¡±I thought you¡¯d benefit from learning more; from having your questions answered. But all that happened was that I took your hope from you.¡±


    Sevren closed his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be, Toren,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d rather know my efforts to be pointless and change tactics, rather than continue on with the same false hope for eternity. Maybe I have a chance now.¡± S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I smiled sardonically. Even if the sun on the outside burned his skin, the Denoir heir was glad to have left Plato¡¯s Cave. Perhaps the flickering shadows on the walls gave him a sense of direction, but they were but reflections of what was true. A mimicry of understanding.


    I stood, holding the relic open in my palm. I took a deep breath, trying to settle my emotions. ¡°Are you ready to go?¡±


    Sevren exhaled lightly. ¡°I am,¡± he said, pushing off the wall. ¡°Is there any place you want to descend from? I think I¡¯m going to test this strange spellform on the descension portal. See if I can actually control where we exit from.¡±


    I tapped my finger against my leg, thinking of my future plans. ¡°I need to go to Aedelgard,¡± I said after a bit of thought. ¡°I have a businesswoman to meet and a concert to plan.¡±

 Chapter 114: Sovereigns Quarrel

    Toren Daen


    I looked up at the towering fountain, tapping my foot as my eyes traced the intricate design. It displayed a hooded mage, their features obscured by their robes, pouring a beaker of liquid with each hand into a larger carafe. The water that flowed out of each beaker converged to make a single stream, which then circled back up to repeat the process.


    The water was tinted a slight reddish color, and I could just barely sense mana flowing through the liquid as it filtered through the fountain.


    Aedelgard was different than I expected. The terrain wasn¡¯t as hilly as Fiachra, but it was far more busy. The scent of saltwater was always in the air, drifting in from the ocean currents. Steamboats¨Clikely ripped straight from Arthur¡¯s schematics¨Cwere docked at the deepwater harbor of the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea. Sailors were constantly milling about, shouting orders, and delivering goods en masse.


    Sevren¡¯s strange spellform had worked, changing the descension destination from the second layer of the Relictombs to Aedelgard¡¯s descension portal. After all, I had a meeting I needed to attend.


    Except as I waited in the courtyard of Bloodstone Elixir¡¯s main branch, I found myself growing increasingly irritated. I watched the water flow through the fountain one more time, then turned back to the guard who had stalled me.


    ¡°Are you absolutely sure you sent word about my arrival?¡± I asked. I¡¯d been milling about for around half an hour already, and the fully-armored sentinel had not shifted an inch.


    ¡°I am certain, my lord,¡± the man said in a monotone voice. The stick shoved up his ass must have been barbed or something. I couldn¡¯t think of any other reason why he stayed so still. ¡°I must repeat what I said earlier. Lady Shorn rarely accepts personal visits. Perhaps you should return another day.¡±


    I sighed, shoving my hands in my pockets. I¡¯d told the man I had an appointment with Renea Shorn a while ago, and while he claimed to have sent the message on, his attitude made me doubt that statement.


    The closed courtyard was quite beautiful. There were a dozen different flowering plants I didn¡¯t recognize, each emitting a scent that mingled with the sea air in strange, cloying mixtures. The colors were simultaneously chaotic and ordered, like a dozen random brushes of paint coming together to form an image. While I¡¯d been content to wait for a while at first in this peaceful garden, that patience was wearing thin.


    I sat down on a nearby bench, settling in for what I expected to be a long wait. I closed my eyes, settling into a meditative state of mind. I reached into my core, caressing the Will nestled there; teasing it upward.


    I didn¡¯t descend into my First Phase, instead keeping just outside of that range. I allowed bits and pieces of knowledge and insight to flow into my mind, exercising extreme mental control to keep that stream steady and small. With what faculties weren¡¯t occupied, I did my best to latch onto that insight. To keep it leashed in my mind so that it would not leave me a moment later.


    I breathed in, feeling the mana in the atmosphere swirl toward me. I allowed myself to feel those eddies as I exhaled, the energy in the air flowing away in tune.


    Lady Dawn wasn¡¯t awake to help me with this process, but at this lower level, I didn¡¯t need it. My bond had explained something crucial about Beast Wills in asuran culture.


    The first step in mastering a Will was the assimilation phase, where you slowly dispersed mana throughout your body, allowing your muscles and bones to absorb it and strengthen in tune. This prepared you for the strain of a Beast Will.


    Yet this was the barest step. Assimilation of the body was only the prerequisite. The greatest push forward was the assimilation of the mind.


    I tried to draw understanding and insight from my Will, hoping to absorb the knowledge it granted me. This was the fundamental second stage of using a Will; the entire point of its existence. To understand what your ancestors taught, then add to it and pass it on further.


    I lost track of time as I slowly pulled myself through the motions of mental assimilation, feeling the push and pull of the mana around me.


    How different is water mana from fire? I asked myself. They each have their own rise and fall. Push and pull. Yin and Yang. Cold and Hot.


    My mana flowed along my channels in warming currents. But something cut my concentration short. The guard¡¯s lifeforce, which had been a static thump-thump-thump for as long as I¡¯d heard it, jumped erratically. A sign of stress and anxiety that was further exemplified by the burst of nervous intent I felt from his mana.


    I opened my eyes, exhaling steam.


    Renea Shorn stood in front of me, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. My grip on the ambient mana faltered as my concentration fully broke, my Will retreating back into my core.


    The guard had left his station, looking nervously between me and the leader of Bloodstone Elixirs.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± the woman said, leaning forward slightly. Her deep black hair shifted to expose more of her pale skin. ¡°Every time I meet you, I am left with far more questions than answers, and it seems today is no different.¡±


    I smiled slightly. In this garden of unending palettes, Renea Shorn stood out like a tear in space. She wore a conservative, black dress, though this one exposed more of her arms than the last. In this courtyard of color, her black-and-white ensemble drew my gaze like a magnet. Her eyes were rimmed with a deep eyeliner, which accentuated her shadowed style.


    ¡°The feeling is mutual,¡± I responded, standing up. ¡°I will admit, I never thought you were a person who would enjoy flowers,¡± I said, casting an eye around us. ¡°I find myself wanting to know why.¡±


    The dark-haired woman raised an eyebrow. ¡°If you want to learn more about me, Lord Daen, you¡¯ll have to work for it.¡± She turned to the guard, who suddenly looked very, very nervous. ¡°Why was I not informed of Lord Daen¡¯s arrival?¡±


    ¡°I, uh¡­¡± the guard stuttered. His face was covered by metal, but from how fast his heart was thumping, I was sure it would be colored crimson from shame. ¡°I assumed he was another highborn lad looking to gain your favor again. It wasn¡¯t my intent to¨C¡±


    The look Renea gave the poor man was cold enough to freeze even my own heartfire. He curled in on himself, lowering his head in apparent guilt. I was reminded again how much this woman looked like the reaper.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said with a bit of a sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly provide proof of our agreement beyond my word.¡±


    Lady Shorn turned away from the guard, who gave me a grateful nod. ¡°Fair enough. Though I think you¡¯ve waited long enough, haven¡¯t you?¡± she said with a raised brow.


    I cracked my neck. ¡°I was prepared to wait a bit more. I have a feeling you wouldn¡¯t leave me out to dry for so long.¡±


    ¡°You do, do you?¡± the woman asked, her cherry-red lips curling into a slight smile. She turned around with a swish of her dress. ¡°Come along, Lord Daen. We have details to discuss.¡±


    ¡ª


    The headquarters of Bloodstone Elixirs was bustling with activity. Though Renea and I quickly ascended past the lower levels of her operations, I got glances at many of the employees bustling about with mana artifacts, papers, and more. When they caught sight of Lady Shorn, they stopped what they were doing to bow slightly in respect, or in the case of one pair who were carrying a heavy crate, simply nod in acknowledgment.


    ¡°Everyone here seems to know you,¡± I said, trailing behind the severe CEO. ¡°And respect you as well.¡±


    And it was true. Perhaps individually, it would¡¯ve been difficult to dissect the passive effects these people had on the ambient mana. But as those effects compounded with mutual emotions, I was able to pick it out more accurately.


    Indeed, what these people were expressing wasn¡¯t fear. It was respect. Adoration. Awe.


    ¡°I have found that treating those beneath you with respect is the most surefire way to beget their own,¡± Renea said, not missing a step. A few eyes lingered on me within the office spaces as we passed. It probably wasn¡¯t every day their boss personally escorted a stranger. ¡°For maximum profits, it is wise to account for every variable.¡±


    ¡°You say that as if these people are merely another checkmark on your list,¡± I replied, amused.


    ¡°And you speak as if I think otherwise,¡± Lady Shorn said, turning her head to look at me slightly. Her onyx eyes glittered.


    I did think otherwise. I¡¯d seen Renea¡¯s passion in the streets of Fiachra. Her passion and ideals had bled through this facade of ice in the face of Mardeth¡¯s cruelty.


    I raised a single brow. ¡°I think you once told me I¡¯m free to think what I will about your motives. I¡¯m merely exercising that privilege.¡±


    Renea did not grace my mild snark with a response aside from a roll of her eyes.


    Gradually, we made our way to the top of the tall building. Lady Shorn pushed open a small door, revealing the room within.


    I didn¡¯t know what I was expecting, but what I saw defied all my expectations.


    I walked in, turning my head to marvel at the room. The walls were dotted with paintings, each a splash of color that somehow melded with the others.


    But the majority were of a very specific kind of scene. There weren¡¯t abstract designs or personal portraits. There weren¡¯t wonderful landscape pieces to add a hint of nature to the room.


    I walked toward a gilded frame depicting a man on his knees, covered in blood, gore, and battle wounds. He stared blankly at the sky, the bodies of dozens around him coating the plains crimson. A spearpoint pierced the soldier¡¯s arm. The detail was remarkable. I could pick out a drop of sweat that rolled down his nose.


    The caption underneath read, ¡°Too often we forget what we fight for and simply fight.¡±


    ¡°That piece was painted in the aftermath of the failure of the Redwater Initiative,¡± Lady Shorn said, standing by my side. I hadn¡¯t sensed her move there. ¡°It¡¯s called The Kneeling Man. There was only one copy produced. It is one of my favorites in my collection.¡±


    All the artwork around the room depicted gruesome battlefields. Mud, blood, and sweat were king. It was a brutal contrast to the hearty atmosphere just beyond these walls. ¡°What was the Redwater Initiative?¡± I asked. I didn¡¯t know enough about Alacryan history to comment on wars.


    Renea turned away from the painting, strolling toward a large desk. She opened one of the compartments, retrieving a few items.


    I recognized one of them as a Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board. It was a bit like chess, except the pieces you had were far more limited. Instead of a king, players needed to protect their sentry while sending forth casters, shields, and strikers to outmaneuver their opponents.


    The other items were more surprising. A teapot, a couple of intricately painted porcelain cups, and a small packet of what I suspected were tea leaves.


    ¡°The Redwater Initiative was the penultimate battle of the war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar several decades ago,¡± Renea began. ¡°It was the final push of the Sehz-Clarian infantry against the Vechorian flank on the banks of Aensgar¡¯s mighty river,¡± the prim woman continued. Renea moved toward a couple of mirrored leather chairs, setting the contents of her arms onto a small table in between. ¡°It was a catastrophic loss for our Dominion, and nearly lost us the war.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Renea retrieved a jug of clear, pristine water from a dimensional storage, then deftly poured some into the teapot. I sat in the opposing leather chair, wondering where this story went. ¡°If I remember correctly, the last war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar¨Cthe Redfeud War, if I¡¯m right¨Cdidn¡¯t have a conclusive winner. Just two losers. What changed?¡±


    Lady Shorn looked up at me, a measuring look on her face. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I cleared my throat. ¡°History is probably my weakest subject,¡± I said. ¡°The only tutor I had in noble arts was lacking in funds to purchase any textbooks, so you¡¯ll have to enlighten me.¡±


    Arlan had been a stern and well-meaning man, but he was also just as poor as Norgan and I.


    Renea shrugged. ¡°The armies of Vechor were primed to sail across the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea,¡± she said, turning toward one of the windows in the room. It provided a splendid view of the ocean beyond. ¡°But the newly appointed Scythe Seris challenged Scythe Kelagon to single combat to turn the tides. Being the brash and brutish man he was, Scythe Kelagon accepted. He lost. Completely and utterly. And for a time, there was no replacement worthy of the title of Scythe of Vechor, which utterly demolished their war machine. Afterward, the Victoriad was instituted as a way to keep Scythes from butchering each other on battlefields.¡± The pale woman held the teapot out to me. ¡°Would you mind, Toren?¡± S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I hummed, taking the teapot from her with a pulse of psychokinesis. I flexed my mana, lighting a fire underneath the pot and leaving it to hover in the air.


    Renea looked at the floating teapot with a magical flame underneath with an approving twist of her lips. ¡°Perhaps I should have lobbied harder for you to work for me, Toren. Your talents are very useful.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I think I can do better in my career than being a water boiler full-time.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure,¡± Renea said loftily. ¡°You¡¯d be working directly under me. It¡¯s quite difficult to surpass that station.¡±


    Arrogant, I thought. Or confident?


    I leaned back in the leather seat, crossing one leg over the other. ¡°I¡¯d argue working with you, Renea, is a greater station than working for you, regardless of what I¡¯d be doing. Speaking of which, I think it¡¯s about time we talked about how this agreement of ours is going to play out.¡±


    Lady Shorn began to set up the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board. Her slim, dainty hands put piece after piece down on the intricately etched playing field, setting it up with the ease of practice. ¡°We will. But we have more than enough time to play a game beforehand, don¡¯t we?¡±


    I leaned forward, inspecting the board. The truth was, I had little confidence in winning a game of what was essentially chess against Renea. I¡¯d seen the measures she set in place with Karsien, slowly building him up to take down her competitors. And the advances she''d made toward recruiting me were masterful. If I were in any other circumstance, they would have sealed a new hire without a sweat.


    I looked from the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board to the brutal paintings all around us. There was a strange kind of beauty in them despite their grim depictions. But at their core, they showed the ugliness of war. Of us versus them. Of fighting your enemy without care for the consequences.


    Renea¡¯s onyx eyes sparkled with something I couldn¡¯t decipher as I made a slow inspection of the room.


    ¡°Do you still view me as an adversary to conquer?¡± I asked honestly, sparing a glance at the one-on-one board between us. ¡°I personally thought we were past that.¡±


    Lady Shorn chuckled lightly, the sound of her demure laughter echoing through the still room. I realized after a moment I¡¯d never heard her laugh before. ¡°We are, Toren. You are an ally now. But I need to know my allies as much as I do my enemies. So I¡¯ll learn how you think in one of the best ways I know.¡±


    As a fighter learns about their opponent in the clash between blades, I acknowledged internally, Or you see a flash of a person¡¯s truest self as they face their end.


    My enhanced hearing picked up the sound of water bubbles popping. Slowly, I allowed the nearby pot to hover back to Renea. She gave me a raised brow as it settled down in front of her. With a deft hand, she handed me one of the porcelain cups. A strainer with ground, red leaves sat atop the rim.


    Lady Shorn leaned forward over the table, her navy-streaked black hair falling in tresses along her shoulders and chest. Her perfume was something floral, though different from all the flowers planted below. It was utterly distinct. She slowly poured boiling-hot water into the teacup, then proceeded to do the same for her own.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, swirling the tea slightly to disperse the leaves. ¡°What type of tea is this?¡± I asked, genuinely curious. I could swear I felt some vague mana fluctuations from the leaves in the strainer, which was beginning to taint the clear water a silky red. ¡°I sense some mana from it, but it¡¯s¡­ murky. Indistinct.¡±


    ¡°Your senses are sharp,¡± Renea complimented. ¡°Better than most.¡±


    I looked at the raven-haired CEO. Despite my elevation to silver core, I still could not pierce her cloaking artifact. Either it was extremely well made, or she was far stronger than I was.


    The latter is nigh impossible, I thought logically. Where did she get a cloaking artifact that can even suppress her heartfire from my ears, I wonder? Such a thing would be extremely useful. I¡¯ve been able to suppress my asuran mana signature with relative ease, but once I start unleashing my Phoenix Will, that becomes more difficult. With an artifact like hers, it would become a nonissue.


    ¡°Not enough to detect your own mana, though,¡± I said. ¡°One day I¡¯ll be powerful enough to do so.¡±


    ¡°I invite you to try,¡± the woman said, resting a finger on one of her striker pieces. ¡°Though to answer your first question, I¡¯ll need to tell you another story. Are you free to hear, or are you still impatient to talk business alone?¡± she asked with a hint of a teasing tone.


    I huffed through my nose. ¡°I think I can wait a while for that,¡± I said amiably. And I did enjoy hearing the woman¡¯s voice. It was smooth and measured in a way that made me feel grounded. ¡°You were saying?¡±


    Renea moved her striker forward, taking what I assumed was an aggressive opening move as she shifted it up several spaces. ¡°It is rumored that a battle between many great asuran warriors ended at the headwaters of the Redwater River,¡± she said, brushing her finger over the intricately carved pieces. ¡°Thousands of lessers died, their cries lost to the ages. The land was rent apart as great powers clashed. And eventually, one inevitably fell.¡± Her eyes flicked up to me. ¡°Your move, Toren.¡±


    I scrutinized the board, taking stock of my options. The strikers were best at taking pieces, but they could be stalled by the shields. The casters could move in more complex directions¨Cnamely, anywhere within five spaces¨Cbut once a striker piece got in close, casters had very little defense to protect from being captured. And the sentry at the back could barely move at all.


    After a minute to contemplate, I hesitantly moved one of my shield pieces forward, blocking off Renea¡¯s advance. I determined I was going to play more cautiously. I was new to this game, and while I¡¯d played it before, I was far from an expert. From my minimal experience in chess, I knew one of the most important things I could do was get as many of my pieces in play as I could safely manage.


    To win, I either needed to capture her sentry or move my own sentry to her hold. The latter was considered a true win, and far more impressive.


    Renea responded by shifting one of her casters to the side, opening up her pieces. ¡°It is said that in the aftermath of this great clash, the land was so scarred by the enormity of their battle that even the soul of the earth bled in empathy.¡±


    I shifted a caster to threaten one of Renea¡¯s front-facing strikers. ¡°And does the land bleed?¡±


    Renea moved another striker, deftly shifting her own piece past my rudimentary defenses. I furrowed my brow. ¡°To an effect. The river is a deep crimson color and is saturated with mana. None can say except the Sovereigns themselves what truly happened, but the waters are certainly unique across Alacrya.¡±


    I crossed my arms, staring at the board for a while, trying to figure out another move to make. Renea was threatening the leftward flank of my sentry with one of her strikers, which was likely bait to try and move one of my forward-facing shields to intercept in sacrifice. Eventually, I decided to put a striker of my own in play, a knife pointed at one of her own rear-guards.


    Lady Shorn smiled, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I felt like I¡¯d made a mistake somewhere, but as I rescanned the board, I couldn¡¯t see where.


    Renea slowly moved a caster to the side, opening up a straight path for another of her strikers to threaten my western flank. And now I didn¡¯t have many options to shore up that weakness. ¡°But the tea leaves nurtured with water from the Redwater¡¯s source turn a crimson color as they absorb the water and are imbued with enhanced properties. They make a wonderful, lasting taste that is savory and slightly sweet, though they are poisonous to any who are not strengthened by mana.¡±


    I stared at the board, trying to think of a way out. I could sacrifice one of my shield pieces to eliminate both Renea¡¯s casters, but that would leave my eastern flank exposed. I looked down at the bottom of my board. My sentry could shift to the side instead. For a few turns it would be more open, but I wouldn¡¯t need to sacrifice a piece to secure its safety.


    With a careful hand, I shifted my sentry to the side. This would hopefully change Renea¡¯s angle of attack to something else.


    Before making her next move, Renea looked toward her tea. A few minutes had passed, and the woman seemed to deem this enough time to let her beverage steep. With a careful hand, she removed the strainer, setting it off to the side. Then she raised the steaming cup of reddish liquid to her crimson lips, taking a savoring sip of the drink. Her eyes fluttered closed in an expression of bliss.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ve gotten your measure, Toren,¡± she said, cradling her hot cup with two hands.


    I followed suit, removing the strainer and giving the tea a sip. I pulled back, feeling a flash of surprise at the taste. It was slightly sweet, though I caught metallic hints here and there in the aftertaste. I hadn¡¯t expected to actually like the taste: after all, I was far more of a coffee person. But I found the drink to be utterly unique. ¡°And what do you think you¡¯ve learned about me?¡± I asked, still staring at the reddish tea in my hands. I could feel the mana within the drink settling into my stomach, then disperse across my body in a relaxing sensation. I could feel my own mana reacting with something inside, protecting me from potential poison.


    She told me the truth about the tea, I thought. Why am I surprised by that?


    ¡°You hesitate to sacrifice the pieces you have available,¡± Renea said, making a single move with one of her rear shields. I exhaled, my eyes widening as I took in the new board state. A striker near the rear of Lady Shorn¡¯s board had been opened up to attack the exact space I¡¯d moved my sentry to.


    She¡¯d predicted my move exactly.


    I took a gulp of my tea, feeling the near-boiling beverage trail down my throat. With the level of mana in my body, it couldn¡¯t hurt me at all, but I used that warmth to center myself.


    ¡°You could have easily avoided this exact scenario had you sacrificed your shield instead. But though I know you saw the option, you took the chance at moving your most important piece to the side instead, forgoing the difficult decision of sacrifice.¡± Renea sipped at her tea, then licked her lips slowly. ¡°And now you struggle further because the only options you have involve that sacrifice.¡±


    I looked up at the demure owner of Bloodstone Elixirs. There was a deeper tinge of red around her lips from the tea she¡¯d been drinking. I almost imagined it could have been blood.


    Despite the warmth in my gut from the tea, I felt a bit of adrenaline course through my veins. This had become its own kind of battle, even if we didn¡¯t use swords or magic.


    I looked back at my board, hesitating for several minutes. But no matter what scenario I tried in my head, it all came back to the same conclusion. Renea was correct. Sacrifice was inevitable.


    Finally, I shifted one of my shields to cover my sentry¡¯s exposed position.


    As it became clear that Renea would inevitably win this board game, I shifted my aim from winning to bleeding her pieces for every victory they took. I tried to make each sacrifice as meaningful as possible; reaping more damage than they took. As the minutes wore on, Lady Shorn gradually adapted to my own tactics, masterfully circumventing me and getting closer to inevitable victory.


    I stared, stunned, at the end result of our little mental duel. My sentry was cornered near the edge of the board, almost entirely surrounded. Next turn, it would inevitably be taken.


    Except for the fact that, somehow, Renea¡¯s own sentry had managed to entirely cross the board, landing it solidly in my hold.


    A true win for the enigmatic owner of Bloodstone Elixirs.


    I narrowed my eyes at Renea. ¡°You toyed with me,¡± I half-accused. ¡°That wasn¡¯t very polite.¡±


    Lady Shorn reached a hand toward her tea. When she noticed it was no longer hot, however, she reluctantly set it back down. She sighed in disappointment. ¡°Perhaps. But this has been enlightening, has it not? I have a much better idea of how I need to work with you now.¡±


    I leaned back into my chair, feeling a bit tired from the back-and-forth I¡¯d had with this mercilessly clever woman. ¡°I think I can say the same,¡± I said.


    Renea leaned forward slightly. ¡°Oh? And what do you think you¡¯ve discovered?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I started, ¡°You told me I¡¯d have to work to understand you,¡± I said a bit haughtily. ¡°And I think I¡¯ve put in a bit of work.¡±


    Lady Shorn folded her hands over her lap, tilting her head. Her earrings¨Cboth a striking silver¨Cflashed in the low light. ¡°I¡¯m curious what you think of me, Toren.¡±


    I raised my hand. ¡°Well, for one,¡± I said, lowering a finger for each point, ¡°You very much enjoy a good mental spar. Two, you are invested in history. Three, you like to pretend like you¡¯re not an idealist. And four¡­¡± I said, trailing off. I flared my mana, engaging my telekinetic emblem to latch onto Lady Shorn¡¯s lukewarm tea. She tracked it with her onyx pupils as it floated over to me, watching as the delicate porcelain settled into my grip.


    Once again, I called on the fire mana in the air. With a bare effort of will, I imbued the tea with a helpful measure of warmth. After several seconds, it began to steam again.


    I swirled the cup, looking at the contents. Then I raised it to my lips, taking a measured sip. Yeah, it was warm enough. Renea watched me with something akin to amusement on her face, her eyes shifting amidst the vapor rising from her tea. Gently, I handed the steaming brew back to the pale woman. She took it from me, her hands brushing mine for a moment too long.


    ¡°Fourth,¡± I continued, ¡°Is that you like your tea hot, Renea.¡±


    Renea smiled. For the first time since I¡¯d met her, her lips stretched fully across her face, showing teeth whiter than her skin. It was a predatory expression. ¡°You learn quickly, Toren,¡± she said, taking another sip herself. ¡°But I think it¡¯s time we talked about how you¡¯re going to display your music.¡±

 Chapter 115: Nirmala

    Toren Daen


    The mood shifted for a while as Renea and I hashed out initial details about my first concert. I¡¯d had some time to think about what I wanted since our first agreement, so when the topic finally reached where I wanted the venue to be, I knew my answer.


    ¡°I was thinking of doing the show outside Fiachra. Maybe by the Sehz River,¡± I said, taking a final sip of my tea. I looked at the bottom of the cup a bit forlornly. I might have been a coffee person, but Renea had good taste. ¡°And I¡¯d like to make it free to attend.¡±


    The aforementioned businesswoman looked up from her pad of paper, a confused cast to her face. ¡°Such a location¨Cand lack of entrance fee¨Cwould not be conducive to profit,¡± Renea replied.


    I set my teacup down. Renea had finished her own cup a while before me. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not really looking for money,¡± I said honestly. The profits I¡¯d made from scouring the Relictombs so far were more than enough to let me live comfortably, and truthfully, that was all I needed. ¡°I want everyone to be able to see me play, regardless of their wealth.¡±


    Renea tapped a pen against her little pad of paper. ¡°It will be difficult to sway those of financial means to attend something if there is no monetary transaction involved. It lends a sense of exclusivity to the venue. Furthermore, I will be making a loss on setting up such a show if there is no way to recoup funds.¡±


    I¡¯d thought of this, too. While it would be difficult to attract noble attention right off the bat, I felt sure my music would gradually draw people in regardless of any ¡®ticket prices.¡¯ But I still understood Renea¡¯s concerns.


    ¡°You could sell some sort of merchandise for those who could afford it,¡± I interjected. ¡°Something exclusive to the venue. Shirts, lapel pins, maybe some sort of stylized jewelry.¡±


    Lady Shorn scrutinized me. ¡°You truly are not in this for the profit, are you?¡± she asked. ¡°Even if I manage to recoup what I spend on assisting this setup, you gain little.¡±


    ¡°My music should be for everyone,¡± I said honestly. It was such a pure way of connecting souls. To have that locked behind the barrier of money made part of me shrivel away in disgust. ¡°Perhaps we can plan exclusive venues where you do charge an entrance fee, but I¡¯d also play to the public for free as well.¡±


    I¡¯d rather not charge at all, but the problem of capital wasn¡¯t something I could do away with my idealism.


    Renea snapped her little notebook shut with a crisp click. ¡°I can work with this. In a few weeks, I¡¯ll send out advertisements and have you practice for the show. Do you think you¡¯re ready for this, Toren?¡±


    I stood up, noting how the light was getting low outside. I felt my mood plummet slightly as I envisioned what I would have to do after this meeting.


    I enjoyed talking with Lady Shorn. She was intelligent, witty, and above all else, she shared a mote of my same idealism, even if it was buried deep under layers of carefully crafted masks. Something in my gut clenched at having to cut this meeting short, especially with what I would have to do next.


    ¡°Without false modesty,¡± I said, ¡°I think I can match your expectations.¡± I worked my fingers as I kept my eyes on the slowly setting sun.


    Renea stood herself, then carefully walked to my side. ¡°Toren,¡± she said seriously, laying a hand on my shoulder, ¡°You plan to investigate Mardeth¡¯s blithe supply, don¡¯t you?¡± Her eyes were hard.


    ¡°I do,¡± I said honestly. ¡°It¡¯s something that needs to be done. The threat of Scythe Seris won¡¯t keep him chained forever.¡±


    Lady Shorn tilted her head. ¡°I might have been able to protect your people in East Fiachra from the Vicar of Plague¡¯s retribution,¡± she said sternly, ¡°But should you follow this path, I will not be able to shelter you from the powers that surround this. There is only so much I can do.¡±


    I clenched my teeth, feeling a bit of irrational anger surge through me. I suppressed it, speaking in what I hoped was a measured tone. ¡°I¡¯m more powerful than I let most believe,¡± I said honestly. ¡°And what I say is true. He won¡¯t stay back forever. He¡¯s a rabid dog; an animal that knows no restraint. Only the fear of the whip keeps him from lashing out. But that whip will not always be there.¡± My words came out clipped and harsh. The mana around me flexed involuntarily.


    Renea¡¯s perfect brows furrowed as she retrieved her hand. The demure woman took a step backward, and I found myself missing that floral perfume of hers and the warmth of her palm on my shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll say it again, Lord Daen. This is a path of ruin. Do not follow it; not without more time.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t work for you, Lady Shorn,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°There are things in this world that need to be done regardless of the danger to myself. You acknowledged that yourself once, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Renea¡¯s face smoothed over to that cool, icy stare. The warmth and familiarity that had slowly grown over the course of our many hours of talking steamed away like vapor off the top of a teacup. ¡°Very well, Lord Daen. Your choices remain your own.¡±


    At those words, I excused myself, walking out of the headquarters of Bloodstone Elixirs with heavy steps.


    ¡ª


    I crouched on a rooftop in the late night, the chill in the air trying and failing to pierce my skin.


    It was late winter now, and there was snow coating the many buildings in Nirmala. I felt a flash of nostalgia as I surveyed the many homey rooftops.


    Just like my excursions with the Rats so many months ago, I thought. The capital city of Etril was more densely populated than Fiachra, with a greater focus on mining expeditions into the base of Mount Nishan to the northwest. The active volcano provided a myriad of exotic and rare materials which allowed the Nirmalans to prosper.


    I felt a stirring in my mind. I smiled slightly, withdrawing a certain feathered relic from my dimension ring.


    I felt Aurora¡¯s touch as she slowly connected to the feather in my hands, the relic glowing bright white momentarily as it shifted into a now familiar steampunk sparrow.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± I said as the phoenix shade manifested next to me. ¡°Are you feeling better?¡±


    Aurora sat on a nearby ledge, her burning eyes looking me up and down. ¡°I am feeling stronger than I have in a long time,¡± she admitted. ¡°And piloting this little creature gives me a measure of influence I thought long gone.¡±


    The clockwork bird chirped slightly, hopping up to my shoulder and settling itself down. I felt a quiet warmth thrum over our bond, reinforcing her earlier words. ¡°Did the Artificer give you leave to take this relic?¡±


    ¡°He did,¡± I replied. ¡°So long as you catalog how you actually control it. He still wants to learn the secrets of aether.¡±


    My bond drooped slightly, no doubt remembering our conversation in the wake of Sevren¡¯s confrontation with her. I opened my mouth to say something; maybe provide a bit of comfort, but she shook herself, seeming to banish some of that darkness. ¡°I am curious though, Contractor, why you wear that mask.¡±


    I raised my hands to my face, running my fingers down the antique filigree that lined my deep steel mask. Twin horns stretched from the side of the solid cover.


    ¡°When I bought my first mask, I did it because I thought it looked intimidating,¡± I said honestly. What I wore was nearly exactly the same as that first Doctrination mask from so many months ago. ¡°But now, I think it¡¯s thematic. I¡¯m going to infiltrate one of Mardeth¡¯s old bases while wearing the old masks of his order.¡±


    Aurora frowned, then turned to the side. In the distance, a cathedral stretched into the sky, dwarfing the structures around it. The moon cast it in an eerie light. I couldn¡¯t help but see it as a predator¡¯s den.


    ¡°I shall test the limits of this puppet of mine,¡± the asuran spirit said, flexing her fingers. The little clockwork bird on my shoulder whirred, then stretched its wings with the sound of scraping knives. ¡°It is a perfect scout for our purposes.¡±


    I nodded as the bird made a few hops, then leapt off my shoulder with wings spread wide. I watched as it struggled for a second or two to balance itself, then began to fly with remarkable ease toward the distant structure.


    ¡°It has been so long since I have felt the joy of flight,¡± Aurora said, her voice wistful, ¡°Even if it is merely by proxy.¡± She shifted her fingers in a complicated gesture, and I heard the threads of lifeforce around us twist. The mechanical bird¨Cnow just a bronzish speck in the night¨C did a barrel roll midair, then stretched its wings wide. Lady Dawn smiled. ¡°It is such a wonderful thing, to be relieved from the tyranny of the ground.¡±


    I hummed as the clockwork bird entered a broken window near the top of the abandoned cathedral.


    Hofal had told me Mardeth¡¯s last stronghold in Etril had been based out of this temple in Nirmala. What he saw here had deeply scarred him, but I knew if I wanted to understand Mardeth¡¯s true goals, I needed to brave these depths.


    ¡°The inside of the temple seems to be abandoned,¡± Aurora said, her fingers moving intermittently. That wasn¡¯t unexpected. Mardeth had practically been chased from Etril by Scythe Melzri.


    ¡°From a cursory glance over your thoughts,¡± Aurora began, ¡°You met with that Renea Shorn again. Did you reach a satisfactory agreement on this... concert thing?¡±


    I shifted slightly on my perch. The way Aurora asked me about the concert had the air of a parent awkwardly questioning their son about their friends at school. I looked at the asuran shade, opening my mouth to respond.


    Then the majority of my meeting with Renea Shorn replayed in my mind. Most of it didn¡¯t involve discussing my eventual concerts in the slightest. I remembered the woman¡¯s blood-red lips curling into a wide smile as I handed her back her tea. Flashes of those onyx eyes burning holes into my own.


    I felt myself flush slightly. ¡°Yeah, we got a plan in place,¡± I said a bit too quickly. ¡°In a couple of weeks, I¡¯m going to play on the fields of Fiachra. Hopefully to a crowd.¡±


    Lady Dawn clearly sensed the shift in my emotion. She raised a perfect red brow, ready to ask me something else, but then her hands twitched.


    ¡°I believe I have found the entrance to this Vicar¡¯s lower labs,¡± she said, making me settle slightly.


    Frowning, I reached my hands out to the strange tethers of lifeforce stretching from Aurora¡¯s hands. As my fingers brushed the air, I got flashes of what the little construct was seeing. A dark, dimly lit expanse funneled toward an ominous door near the back of the altar.


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    Aurora floated her bird puppet a bit closer. The door was opened the barest of cracks, and I saw a nauseatingly familiar stretch of stairs trailing into the darkness.


    I exhaled a shaky breath. ¡°Yeah, I think you found our target.¡±


    The phoenix looked at me. ¡°Be careful, Toren. You don¡¯t know what is beneath this stone.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± I affirmed, before dropping from the rooftop. I used a slight telekinetic push to cushion my fall. A small nimbus of snow pushed out from me at the center as I landed. My breath steamed in the air.


    The massive temple was larger than the one in East Fiachra. On the inside, it was even more grand; though potentially more decrepit. There was a hole in the roof that let in the moonlight, and the elements that had entered had slowly worn away the structures within.


    I slowly meandered toward the back room, feeling sweat tickle the back of my neck. In the Fiachran temple, a large mosaic of a basilisk¡¯s human form oversaw the entire inner chamber. Its eyes would stare into the soul of each individual worshipper. Judging them. Weighing them. Determining their worth.


    Here, there was no such mosaic. Instead, a hundred eyes peered in from the stained glass windows, the colors refracting strangely in the dim light. Instead of one, all-powerful god, this created the illusion of countless watchers.


    No matter where you look, eyes will be at your back, I thought, feeling my spine tingle.


    As I approached the door, I was forcefully reminded of the last time I¡¯d investigated Mardeth¡¯s basements. I desired deeply that I wouldn¡¯t see something akin to the last torture room.


    I could only hope so. The door loomed large as the jaws of any aether beast I¡¯d faced. Aurora¡¯s steampunk sparrow landed on my shoulder as I inspected the door. It chirped, the noise somewhere between a whirr and a birdcall.


    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± I said a bit sarcastically.


    ¡°You are welcome,¡± Lady Dawn replied.


    I took a deep breath as I stared at the solid iron slab, then pushed it aside. It was heavier than expected, but under my increased strength, it shifted easily.


    The steps down to the basement were slick with snowmelt. As I walked down the stone path, my boots clicked against the rock. I had to be careful to avoid slipping. As the moonlight from above faded, I had to conjure a flame in my palm to light the way. The warm orange glow of my mana-empowered fire defied the cool depths I traversed.


    But as I reached the bottom, I was not disappointed. Rows upon rows of old chemistry equipment lined the room. Beakers, bowls, and diagrams charted a dozen different tables. It was like a rendition of what film directors expected a meth lab to look like, except it had been industrialized and expanded upon. I swept my hand around, shedding light on objects that must not have seen it in an age.


    I walked through the rows upon rows of vials, the stale, musk air scratching at my mask. Keep an eye out for anything noteworthy, I said to my bond. I¡¯m not exactly a chemist, but anything that looks important we should grab for inspection later.


    The little clockwork bird left my shoulder, darting around the room on bladed wings. ¡°I am no scientist either, Toren,¡± Aurora said, using our mental link alone. ¡°But I shall keep wary for anything that catches my eye.¡±


    I walked past a many-faced device that appeared to take several inputs, funneling them through a crystal-clear tubing network that centered around a final beaker. I held my firelight closer, noticing a strange discrepancy in the glass.


    Peppered along one of the tubes, a few small crystalline shards flashed under the light. They were a deep crimson red, one that felt strangely familiar. I furrowed my brows beneath my mask, trying to grasp why those shards scratched at my subconscious.


    Acting on a hunch, I moved to another table. This contraption wasn¡¯t as complex as the one I¡¯d looked at before, but that wasn¡¯t the point. I leaned in close, inspecting the glass.


    Those blood-red crystal shards reflected my firelight again.


    I straightened my back, feeling like I was onto something. I darted from beaker to beaker, quickly inspecting each container.


    Each and every one of them had a bit of those crystals. Why do I find these so familiar? I asked myself, trying to wrack my brain.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice said in my mind. ¡°I do believe I¡¯ve found something of import.¡±


    I turned toward where I felt the slow pulse of heartfire which denoted the djinn relic. I slowly meandered toward it, anticipation building in my bones. My hand clenched tightly on the hilt of Oath.


    The lower ceiling gradually opened up to reveal a larger chamber. The thrumming of Aurora¡¯s little bronze construct drew me like a magnet, the only light the flame that floated over my palm. As I entered the larger room, funneled more mana into the flame, making it pop a couple of times before enlarging.


    And I stalled in my tracks. In front of me was a massive chunk of crimson material. Looking at it, I had trouble distinguishing if it was metal or crystal, the light washing over the edges and casting strange shadows. It was the same substance that had lined the inside of the glasses before.


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork bird landed on my shoulder, shaking itself contentedly. ¡°It is nearly five times your size. And considering how it appears to have been chipped away at, I¡¯d reckon it was once larger.¡±


    I felt a lightbulb go off in my head as I finally realized what I was looking at. I drew Oath from its scabbard, the red-patterned metal pristine. I looked at the striations of red metal that ran along my saber¡¯s length, comparing it to the massive chunk in front of me.


    ¡°Sevren said this was a material called ¡®basilisk blood,¡¯¡± I said, walking forward. ¡°He said it was one of the few materials that could conduct Vritra mana without immediately decaying and was used for weapons because of that.¡±


    ¡°That begs the question,¡± Aurora responded, ¡°Why does this Vicar of Plague inject it into his concoctions?¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, but a shift in the air alerted my sensitive ears. I spun, looking toward where I¡¯d come from. An indistinguishable number of pulsing heartbeats were descending the staircase at a rapid pace.


    Thoughts of the basilisk blood and what it implied vanished from my mind as my thoughts oriented on this new threat. I clenched my hands around the fire in my palm, extinguishing it and casting the room in darkness once more. I focused on pulling my mana inward, masking both my bare intent and suppressing my mana signature.


    I can¡¯t sense their mana signatures, I thought. They have some sort of stealth spell engaged which is making them hard to detect. Which means they don¡¯t want to be found.


    Aurora¡¯s steampunk sparrow landed on my shoulder as I peered around the massive chamber I was in, trying to spot any other exits. Can you suppress the bits of light that bird gives off? I asked.


    For a moment, nothing happened. Then the pulses of orange-purple light surrounding the relic dimmed. ¡°With some effort, I can,¡± my bond replied.


    Good, I thought, then unceremoniously grabbed the metal bird. Aurora made an affronted sound as I stuffed the bird into my black tunic, hiding it safely away from the air.


    ¡°That was unnecessary,¡± my bond complained as I exited the room. I could come back later, but now I needed to find a place to hide. I didn¡¯t want to be discovered down here, and the chances these were Doctrination forces were too high.


    Maybe it was, I thought as I scanned the long room of beakers and chemical contraptions. There were many places to hide here, but there was an objective best choice.


    Imbuing my legs with a bit of mana, I jumped upward, using the barest application of my emblem to lash myself to the ceiling. I exhaled, flexing my will to keep the mana I used from exiting my control and leaving a trail.


    Pulling on some mana from my core, I funneled some of it to my eyes, aspecting it with fire along the way.


    Trying something I¡¯d only just understood from my recent assimilation process, I altered the flow of mana around my pupils. Suddenly, the colors in the room shifted as fire mana swirled. Most of the room appeared dull and lifeless.


    That wasn¡¯t far off. It was the tail end of winter, and there was no heat to be found. The stone had been soaked through with snow earlier, sapping it of further warmth. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But a few figures leaving the stairwell glowed orange with warmth. The spell I¡¯d cast allowed me to see heat signatures, and though the mages that slowly filtered into the underground lab were able to expertly suppress their mana, their body heat was something else.


    I smirked under my mask, feeling a jolt of adrenaline as I shifted on the ceiling, slowly meandering toward the exit. A slight push of sound magic muffled any noises I made, allowing me to smoothly approach.


    The mages that had entered were dressed in dark clothing similar to my own, but to my surprise, it wasn¡¯t the black-on-red robes of the Doctrination. As I slowly edged toward the exit, I found myself wondering why they were there. Had I tripped some sort of alarm? Or had someone been following me I hadn¡¯t noticed?


    I found the latter option more likely. Considering I¡¯d been able to sense the lifeforce of these mages as they¡¯d gotten close, I was certain I hadn¡¯t been tailed.


    The bright orange dots moved through the darkness with purpose, honing in on the room I¡¯d just left with the precision of a pack of wolves. There were five I could count in total, their features indistinct in the emptiness.


    I watched them pass under me, inadvertently holding my breath. I didn¡¯t need to; not with my sound spell dampening the noises I made. But there was something nerve-wracking about hoping you would go unnoticed. About counting down the seconds as a threat passed by.


    I exhaled as the mages began to close in on the room, passing my spot on the ceiling. Now was the time to make my escape while those bright dots were focused on the room with the colossal crystal. My feet made no noise as I darted for the stairwell, my vision of the floor inverted.


    But just as I reached the doorway, which glowed softly with moonlight from far above, I felt a shift in the ambient mana. Intent¨Csomething I¡¯d grown adept at sensing¨Ctold me of hidden bloodlust. Of a quiet desire to kill.


    I spun, barely sensing the spell coming. A blackness that seemed even darker than this unlit room blew toward me like a scythe, the edges of the spell indistinct in the low light.


    My mind spun through a dozen possibilities, but it didn¡¯t take a genius for me to recognize this as some sort of Vritra-aspected spell. I couldn¡¯t afford to take it head-on.


    I let myself drop from the ceiling, releasing my telekinetic emblem in the process. The cutting arc of void wind dug into the stone where I¡¯d just been, carving a furrow so deep I couldn¡¯t see the end. I felt mana pulse in my veins as I prepared to confront another spell from the side, but once again, the darkness proved my enemy.


    A tendril of something dark and murky latched onto my ankle, the spell spearing up from the neverending shadows around me. I reacted quickly, unwilling to let myself be taken unawares further. Oath hummed with sound mana as it severed the tendril, but I was still sent flying by a sudden jerk.


    I grit my teeth, using a couple of psychokinetic pushes on myself to reorient midair. From that barest touch, my mana barrier had nearly been eaten through entirely. I engaged my telekinetic shroud as I flew, hoping it would serve as a better protection.


    But the aspect of stealth was already lost. When I landed with a slight skid in the large, cavernous room from before, the five mages I¡¯d circumvented before were shocked into motion. With barely a beat of hesitation, they moved to surround me on all sides. Their intent flared, the ambient mana conveying their anger and lust for blood.


    ¡°I knew one of your kind would be back,¡± an angry feminine voice echoed from all around. My eyes darted every which way, trying to find the source of the voice. ¡°And so I waited. Waited for so long.¡±


    A burst of black shadow swirled around the door to the room. My mana-enhanced eyes gave me the barest flash of something pale within before it dispersed.


    The mages around me suddenly seemed even more predatory as this new figure emerged, bolstered by her presence. The woman¡¯s white hair was cut short to their head, and a set of red eyes promised me a slaughter. Their ears came to a point, something I hadn¡¯t seen before. Their umbral dress swirled with dark mana, and now that they had pulled away from the shadows, I was able to hear their heartbeat.


    It was powerful; thundering with the weight of a hundred souls. I could almost feel the decay-tainted heartfire throb in her chest. A palpable wave of killing intent wafted from this mage like a tide.


    ¡°Vritra-blooded spawn,¡± Aurora hissed inside my head. Her little clockwork bird squirmed in my tunic. ¡°This one is powerful, Toren.¡±


    ¡°It was only a matter of time before Mardeth sent someone after his precious basilisk blood. And now you¡¯ve delivered yourself to me,¡± the woman said, a sneer on her lips.


    But despite the near absence of light, I recognized my foe. Her appearance was too striking; too distinct. And her power belied the truth of her identity.


    Mawar, the Retainer of Etril, barred my sole path of escape.

 Chapter 116: Retainer

    Toren Daen


    ¡°Retainer Mawar,¡± I said, altering my voice with sound magic. Mana thrummed through my body, strengthening it to absurd levels. I felt my heartbeat pound against my ears, my pulse quickening as I recognized the threat in front of me. ¡°We don¡¯t need to fight.¡±


    Mawar snarled. ¡°You know who I am, mage,¡± she hissed, the air thrumming with weathering intent. The closest thing I¡¯d felt was the first time I¡¯d met Mardeth in the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association. ¡°Then you know why you¡¯re going to die here.¡± I saw void wind popping around Mawar¡¯s hands, but it was difficult to see in the near blackness.


    Her mana was a cloying force. I couldn¡¯t afford to lose focus on her in the slightest. I¡¯d been told by several people that Mawar had a deep, deep grudge against Mardeth for refusing to fight during the Victoriad, essentially putting the validity of her Retainership up in the air. I should have expected something like this.


    I felt the mages surrounding me shifting to offensive stances, readying their spells. Their faces were wrapped in dark cloth, obscuring their features from my sight. Mana thrummed in the air. I clenched my hand around Oath, the dark leather comforting in my palm. Mawar was powerful. One of the strongest mages I¡¯d sensed yet.


    But this was something I could manage.


    ¡°If this retainer wished you dead immediately,¡± Aurora conveyed quietly, ¡°She would have already attacked. She wants something from you.¡±


    Deciding to take a risk, I took a simple step forward, brushing away Mawar¡¯s killing intent. ¡°I don¡¯t work for Mardeth,¡± I said, hissing slightly. ¡°I want him dead even more than you do.¡±


    ¡°You expect me to believe that?¡± Mawar laughed, her eyes gleaming in shadow. ¡°You enter here wearing a mask of the Doctrination, clothed in black. No doubt you were sent from that new base of his along the Redwater.¡± She shook her head, and the pressure emanating from her redoubled. I felt it in my teeth. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell us all you know about that little base, including how you supply yourselves out of Aensgar. And then I¡¯m going to burn it to the ground.¡±


    Okay, I thought, reassessing my choice to wear an old vicar¡¯s mask, Maybe not the brightest idea.


    But this confrontation provided me with an opportunity. Renea Shorn had put her foot down in regards to helping me flush out Mardeth. But Mawar hated him personally. I could work with that.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the information you need,¡± I said hesitantly, ¡°But if we could work together¨C¡±


    ¡°Take him alive,¡± Mawar said to the nearby mages, cutting off my words. ¡°I don¡¯t care about residual damage. Just make sure he can think and talk when you¡¯re done with him.¡±


    It was like a spark had been dropped into the bottom of an oil well. Mana flared around me as the encircling mages launched their spells in my direction.


    But I was already moving. I raised a barrier of fire to divert an oncoming stream of flame, the heat licking at my bones. Simultaneously, I jumped backward, sending a psychokinetic push against an oncoming boulder. I used the massive stone to push me further, sending me hurtling toward one of the rearmost mages.


    They hastily raised a short dagger in defense, their eyes widening behind their clothed face. Oath, imbued with a shuddering layer of sound mana, sheared straight through their own weapon. It cut a thin line across the mage¡¯s cheeks as they stumbled backward, just barely avoiding a fatal blow. But I had been expecting that. Using a psychokinetic pull, I yanked the off-balance mage right into my waiting fist.


    Their head cracked to the side with a sickening sound. My body was far stronger than before my First Sculpting, and no normal magic user could resist me physically. The mage I¡¯d struck crumpled to the floor as their heartfire sputtered. Absently, I hoped it wasn¡¯t a fatal blow.


    But I couldn¡¯t even afford this bit of time. I slammed a telekinetic shove into the ground, lurching into the air to avoid bullets of water infused with electricity. A few sparked in the darkness as they skittered across my telekinetic shroud, but they weren¡¯t strong enough to break through. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I grit my teeth, my eyes tracing the sources of heat in the room. I was relying mainly on my sense of hearing and the thumps of heartfire in my ears to track all the mages in the room. My sight was too restricted by the darkness.


    Another boulder of earth shot toward me from the ground, but a slight reorientation in midair allowed it to skim past my back. Oath flashed, the blade severing half a dozen fireballs in a split second. The explosion of light gave me a chance to plan.


    Thinking quickly, I threw a handful of sound grenades at the ground. In the darkness, they were indistinct and difficult to see. But as I expected, the mages lashed out at the murky spells on instinct.


    The moment a bolt of electricity pierced one of the sound grenades, a sound like nails scratching a chalkboard¨Cexcept ramped up to eleven¨Cechoed throughout the chamber. The arching walls carried the sound exceptionally, several of the mages doubling over as the sound attacked their eardrums.


    Those must be the casters, I thought as I hit the ground running, a few fireballs popping into existence around my head. They can¡¯t strengthen their bodies against physical damage.


    I thought of the last time I¡¯d been surrounded on all sides. Kaelan Joan had managed to box me in, then slowly whittle me down from an unending barrage. From their core levels and mana output, each of these mages was about the strength of Kaelan Joan herself. My heart hammered in my head as I circumvented the careful encirclement these mages had created.


    Now, they were nothing but prey.


    I darted for one of the groaning casters, intent on capitalizing on their weakness. But the mage that had been lobbing boulders at me threw himself in my path, solid armor of earth materializing over his body as he prepared to meet my advance.


    The fool.


    I slid around the mage, far too fast for him to catch. He was slowed by his bulky armor, while I was fluid as blood. As I passed him by, I latched onto his arm with mine, then pivoted on my foot. The man¨Cwho must have weighed half a ton with his rock armor¨Clifted off the ground with a surprised grunt. I locked eyes with the recovering caster in front of me as I leveraged the body of her teammate, preparing to use him like a club.


    I saw it there. In my shadow, she saw her end. The woman recognized she was going to die. Felt it in the intent around her. The fear. The terror.


    I slammed the armored man into the ground beside the woman instead of on top of her, internally cursing myself for my empathy. The ground shuddered and cracked as the earth mage¡¯s body rattled in a way that was not good for his health at all.


    The kneeling caster¡¯s eyes sharpened as her teammate bounced off the ground. She lunged for me, a knife I hadn¡¯t spotted appearing in her hands. I felt anger well up in my gut at her foolish gamble.


    You want to die? I thought angrily, my fingers digging into the groaning earth mage¡¯s armor. Rock splintered under my grip. The man clawed weakly at my hands. Know that you¡¯ve chosen this.


    Before the caster could near me, two telekinetic pushes¨Ceach shoving in opposing directions¨Csnapped her arm. The woman screamed as her limb twisted at a strange angle, but Oath buried itself in her side before she could make more sound.


    She collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, her heartfire shivering. I snarled, turning as more spells bombarded me. Water and electricity combined to make a piercing and conducting spiral, intent on my heart.


    I threw the earth mage¨Cstill armored¨Cat the approaching beam. I heard one of the casters call out for the spell to stop as their teammate was nearly struck. Thankfully for him, they managed to cull their mana before he was hit.


    Unluckily for him, I slammed a powerful telekinetic push into his back, splintering his armor and spraying blood as he was rocketed toward the mage who had been conjuring bullets of electrified water. They dove out of the way of their teammate, barely managing to hit the ground.


    The armored man slammed through one of the walls, tumbling into the alchemical room beyond. Blood seeped through his armor as it slowly receded. He wasn¡¯t moving.


    I stalked toward the caster who had thrown himself out of the way of his teammate. Fire splashed over me from the side, one of the remaining mages screaming in fear as he bathed me in hellfire. It washed over my telekinetic shroud ineffectually as I slowly loped toward the caster who had thrown the combination of water and electricity.


    The ambient mana stank of fear. It was a cloying scent that invaded my sinus cavities, the intent of each mage conveying their terror.


    ¡°Come out, Mawar,¡± I hissed. The retainer had vanished in a swirl of void wind the moment the battle had started. My anger thrummed through my veins in tandem with my mana as I hunted these mages. My voice, altered by sound magic, was pitched low and menacing. ¡°You¡¯re content to let these men die? Throw them into the meat grinder for a quick hint of my abilities?¡±


    That was what she was doing, after all. I was certain the young retainer was still here, watching me. I could just barely sense her power around me, but it was indistinct like the wind. It was fleeting, like a breeze across the face.


    The only people I¡¯d killed before this moment had been the Joans. But every one of those I¡¯d killed had been personal. Kaelan Joan had murdered my brother. Lawris Joan was the catalyst. And Lawrent was a monster who poisoned the masses.


    But from the diminishing heartfires around me, I knew those I¡¯d attacked would die without medical attention. Yet they weren¡¯t part of some vendetta. I could not say they were dying justly; that they deserved an end.


    They were simply fodder. And my hand had been forced to deal those heavy blows.


    ¡°Behind you, Toren,¡± Aurora whispered, sensing my fury.


    I turned. Mawar stood imperiously, her form billowing with dark wind. I could see better now; lingering fires around us casting the room in an eerie light. From how the massive chunk of basilisk blood was framed, it almost looked like a heart. She stood between me and the exit.


    ¡°You¡¯re more than a simple lackey,¡± Mawar said. The shadows cast her face in a deathly pallor. For a second, I thought she looked unsure of herself. Perhaps a flash of timidity. It was gone in an instant. ¡°That just means I don¡¯t need to hold back. I¡¯ll draw the answers I need from your broken body.¡±


    I flourished Oath, flicking it clean of a few drops of blood. Then I ran my fingers along its edge, the bright red glow of metal following in their wake. My weapon illuminated the dark room just enough.


    ¡°You will try,¡± I hissed, my voice distorted.


    Mawar lunged at me, a gusting black wave washing toward me as she waved her hand. I swung my saber, an arc of fire rushing to meet the signature decay-attribute wind. I saw as Mawar charged forward, her body writhing with dark mist.


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    I leapt forward, following in the wake of my attack. Mawar jumped to meet me, her eyes alight. I felt the weight of her mana around me, a knot forming in my throat.


    Before we could clash midair, I lashed myself downward, pulling toward the floor with a yank of telekinesis. I dipped beneath my foe, lashing out with Oath in the meantime.


    I felt my saber rebound off something hard before I lurched downward, hurtling toward the massive chunk of crystallized basilisk blood. I twisted in midair, using a few psychokinetic punches to blow away incoming darts of void wind. I had to use more mana for each shove than Mawar did, meaning I was running at a deficit.


    ¡°You are disadvantaged in this small room,¡±


    Aurora said, echoing my thoughts. ¡°You need to get to higher ground.¡±


    I ducked behind the massive block of crimson crystal, a torrent of void wind following a heartbeat later. As I expected, the crystal rebuffed the decaying aspect of Mawar¡¯s void wind. I need to get to the surface.


    I whirled, building up a layer of fire over my fist. I slammed my knuckles into the massive chunk of crimson material. As expected, the basilisk blood rocketed off toward the source of the void wind, splitting it in two like a rock amidst a stream. It smashed into the opposing wall, making the entire room shake and dust seep from the ceiling.


    I barely had time to spin as a shape darted in from the side, flowing with unnatural grace. I raised Oath in a defensive maneuver as Mawar came in close, having neatly dodged the rocketing crystal.


    She didn¡¯t have a conventional weapon. Instead, a mass of wriggling black vines seemed to move on their own accord, their wispy forms somehow solid. They sparked as they rebounded off Oath, but my stance was already broken. Sensing an opening, the retainer darted in, tendrils of void wind writhing around her like an octopus¡¯s tentacles.


    Instinctively, I tried to slam a telekinetic shove against the woman to gain distance. Her tendrils, seeming to react to my mana automatically, lurched to the side, smashing through my white flashes before they could even land.


    Mawar rushed in close, her tendrils of void wind latching onto my arms. The compressive force around my wrist made me drop Oath, the saber clattering to the ground. My telekinetic shroud simmered and decayed as she pulled me close, her lips stretched into a grin.


    ¡°It seems I¡¯ll need to take my time,¡± she began. ¡°Ripping the answers from your¨C¡±


    I reared my head back, building up a sound shroud over my forehead, before slamming it into Mawar¡¯s nose. Her void wind tentacles tried to intercept me, but I was too close. Her nose crunched with a satisfying sound, the sound mana around my skull injected directly into her own. She grunted in pain, spraying dark blood as she reeled. But it wasn¡¯t enough to free my hands from her swaying tendrils of void wind.


    I grunted, feeling my flesh begin to wither as Mawar¡¯s tendrils broke through my telekinetic shroud. I jumped up, planting my boots on Mawar¡¯s stomach. The tendrils stretched like bungee cords as I dug my heels into the disorientated retainer¡¯s gut. A few more tentacles of void wind tried to pry my feet away, but Oath soared up to sever them at the source. I growled, building up a large sphere of mana along my boots.


    ¡°Eat fire, black-wind bitch,¡± I hissed. Then the fireball on the soles of my boots detonated.


    The explosion sent the two of us flying in opposite directions, smoke and decay attribute mana flaring in the room. I rolled, feeling the rawness in my wrists as I quickly darted through the underground chemist¡¯s room. Mawar¡¯s scream of fury trailed me from behind, more beastial rage than pain.


    I think I¡¯ve pissed her off, I thought with a mixture of amusement and irritation. I felt the tide of mana chasing me as it consumed practically everything in its way.


    I spared a glance behind me, feeling Mawar¡¯s rapidly pulsing lifeforce. Her dress was scorched, though her pale skin underneath was mostly unblemished. Her tendrils of void wind lashed and writhed like an angry hive, anything that came near subject to their decay.


    I grit my teeth. Yeah, I pissed her off, I thought. Pushing outward with my telekinetic emblem, I latched onto a dozen tables, throwing them Mawar¡¯s way in an attempt to stall. The woman yelled in anger as the tables blocked her view, but quick scythes of cutting wind made them disappear.


    I ducked to avoid a few dark spells that carved deep cuts into the ground, then spun on my heel to batter a wind bullet away with Oath. I felt the impact travel up my arm.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing nothing but running!¡± Mawar yelled in abject fury. ¡°Why are you so afraid?¡±


    I darted into the ascending stairwell, flying up the steps with the assistance of telekinetic pulls. Mawar was hot on my heels, sending a veritable hurricane of power up in a straight line.


    I exhaled a breath, then slammed a sound-laden punch into the roof above me.


    The vibrations traveled throughout the structure, making the whole corridor shudder. Then I punched it once more. Another time.


    I saw comprehension flash on Mawar¡¯s face for the briefest of moments. I smiled, all teeth. I was almost out of the stairwell, my back bathed in moonlight as I faced the pursuing Vritra-blooded mage.


    Then the roof collapsed. I managed to zip out of the stairwell at the last moment, tons upon tons of stone falling inward onto the surprised retainer.


    ¡°I do not think that was as effective as you wished it to be,¡± Aurora said, the little head of the songbird peeking out of my tunic and staring at the dust rising from the collapsed stairwell.


    I sighed, filtering my lifeforce over my raw wrists. Fresh, pale skin regrew over my wounds.


    I know, I thought. I can still sense her mana. And her lifeforce hasn¡¯t been impacted at all.


    As if on cue, a dozen snaking tendrils of void wind, each like whips of cord, thrust from the rubble. The rock they touched weathered in real-time, the stone crumbling away as if under the effects of millions of years of air instead of a few seconds.


    Mawar pulled herself from the rubble with limbs of misty mana, now covered in dust instead of just scorched. ¡°You¡¯ve earned yourself an even slower death, miscreant,¡± she said angrily. ¡°Are you done running?¡±


    I cracked my neck. ¡°I wasn¡¯t running,¡± I said, the moon high behind me. The watching gazes of the many scarlet eyes in the stained glass judged both of us from all around. ¡°I was changing the battlefield.¡±


    I jumped upward, lashing myself to one of the nearby pillars. Compared to that stuffy underground cellar, my mobility up here was infinitely greater.


    Mawar, expectedly, leapt to meet me. Her short white hair absorbed the moonlight as she tried to meet me midair, but several controlled telekinetic pulls on the walls and supports allowed me to easily maneuver around her.


    As she flew past, I peppered her back with an array of fireshot. Her tendrils of void wind widened to absorb the attack automatically, the decay-aspect mana easily devouring everything I sent its way.


    Those tendrils lashed out at me, but I was too nimble. I whipped myself around a pillar, using the centrifugal force to change directions. Mawar yelled in anger as I darted about like a fly.


    I could understand why. Though she was powerful; certainly one of the strongest people I¡¯d faced in pure mana quantities and abilities, she was an unhoned knife. The woman relied heavily on her automated defenses to shield her body from my attacks, and from what I could see of her nose, she didn¡¯t have a healing factor as I did. Her tactic seemed to be to steamroll over anything that blocked her path.


    I zipped around the room, the retainer and I falling into a delicate dance. I tried to break through her protective weave of tentacles, but everything I tried withered on contact. Fire, sound, telekinetic shoves¨Cthey all bent before the decay attribute mana. Yet she didn¡¯t have the mobility to catch me.


    But at the rate this is going, I thought, I¡¯ll tire before landing a single solid hit. I¡¯m moving around far more than she is; burning away my energy at a faster rate. I¡¯ll have to kick this up a notch, then.


    I cast a weaving sound spell, throwing my voice outward. ¡°I see why you hate Mardeth so much,¡± I whispered as Oath batted away a tendril that had tried to get in close. ¡°He surrendered to you at the Victoriad; declaring himself beyond your station.¡±


    I pulled myself downward to avoid a few scythes of wind. They severed one of the support pillars clean in two. My enhanced ears heard the structure groaning; the already decrepit temple bemoaning its abuse. Too much decay attribute mana had been thrown around in this place, which was already weakening.


    ¡°I¡¯ve fought Mardeth,¡± I said quietly, remembering the utter beatdown I¡¯d experienced at his hands. ¡°I know what his power represents. How strong he truly is.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to keep yapping, welp?¡± Mawar yelled, sounding a bit frantic.


    She¡¯s younger than Toren was when he took his life, I thought with a note of pity. While talented and skilled, Mawar failed to keep her cool during this fight. It made her reckless. It made the stench of her uncertainty waft through her intent. She doesn¡¯t have practice controlling her emotions. And she hasn¡¯t fought nearly as much as one in a Retainer position should have.


    And I was about to capitalize on that weakness. ¡°I know why you search for him,¡± I said, landing squarely near the altar. Mawar paused, her tendrils holding her aloft near one of the overseeing balconies. That same indecision flickered across her face. ¡°Because we both know you would have died on that Victoriad field had Mardeth thought you worth his time.¡±


    Mawar¡¯s skin, as pale as the moonlight, shifted to a midnight black as she rushed me, quick as a bullet. Her mana output doubled, then tripled as she engaged some sort of rune. She blurred to my senses as she accelerated, a roar shaking the foundations of the church.


    But the difference was that I was calm. I felt Aurora¡¯s touch as I fell into my Acquire Phase, the familiar rush of power and insight washing through my veins. Mawar¡¯s tendrils wrapped over themselves like intertwining cords, the mass spinning in unison like a drill to gore me. If that hit me, it wouldn¡¯t matter if I was in my First Phase. I would be dead.


    But I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. A buzz of red plasma built around my fist as Mawar approached, no longer a smudge to the eye. Our eyes met for the briefest of instants as she hurtled toward me at full speed. Her scarlet pupils, under the effect of this form of hers, shifted to a brighter yellow. They were insensate with rage.


    I concentrated on narrowing my telekinetic senses into a smaller bubble. Then I shoved as much mana as I could manage into a simple psychokinetic tug. It appeared in a white flash near Mawar¡¯s foot. Her automatic defenses tried to destroy it, but the majority of her focus was on her forward-facing drill, completely sacrificing her own safety.


    My spell turned Mawar¡¯s calculated dive into a tumble. She tried to right herself midair as she careened toward me, but she¡¯d focused too much on that one spell.


    I threw my fist at her the moment she entered my range. I tilted my head to the side as the writhing mass of dark cords scored my cheek, the attack barely missing my skull. The plasma burning around my hand fought the void wind as it impacted, but this was not Mardeth¡¯s sludge. It was far, far weaker.


    My knuckles broke through, though the burning red plasma around my fist had deteriorated significantly.


    It didn¡¯t matter. My fist buried itself deeply in Mawar¡¯s stomach. I could feel the air being driven from her lungs, the burning edge of my knuckles scorching her skin. Something in her body cracked as my attack made contact with her bare skin. The retainer¡¯s tendrils lashed out wildly, trying to score me, too. They groped at my arm, eating away at my telekinetic shroud and exposing the skin underneath. One latched onto my mask, but I ignored it. In the barest instant of contact, I added another telekinetic punch to the ridges of my knuckles.


    Then I followed through, stepping forward and engaging my entire body as I pushed upward with the force of a nascent asura. Mawar shot toward the ceiling with the speed of a cannonball, crashing through the decrepit roof with the sound of splintering wood. My mask was ripped away with her, leaving my face bare to the chill winter air.


    I exhaled, the adrenaline catching up with me as my arm shook. My muscles burned from both exertion and having the skin stripped away. I almost didn¡¯t notice upon shifting into my Acquire Phase, Aurora¡¯s relic had changed back into a simple feather.


    Though my body was burning from fatigue I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been feeling, I slammed a telekinetic push into the ground, rocketing up through the same hole Mawar¡¯s body had made. The roof of the temple was slightly angled, but the view gave it an edge over all of Nirmala. Overhead, the full moon cast its deathly light onto the earth below.


    Mawar lay crumpled in a heap near one of the pillars. She¡¯d barely avoided being impaled by one of the crenellations, but part of me wondered if she would have preferred that.


    The woman spit up blood, her midnight-black skin shifting back to that pale tone. She looked up at me as I stalked forward, uncomprehending. Then the fear set in. She lashed out with a wild hand, void wind seeping toward me like a wave.


    But this wasn¡¯t the focused, deadly spell from before. Now it was flimsy; cobbled together as a last-ditch effort. I waved my hand, throwing a wave of plasma to meet it. The two mixed and mingled, before cancelling each other out.


    The Retainer of Etril wasn¡¯t a threat any longer. If she were more patient and less tied to her emotions, perhaps she could match me blow for blow. But her fighting style was unwieldy and brash.


    Mawar scuttled backward until her back hit a wall, looking up at me as blood trickled down her lips. She was breathing quickly, but each inhale seemed to cause a stab of pain. I was certain that punch of mine had done internal damage, and without a healing factor, it was unlikely she could fight me. My mask was clenched tightly in her hands. She seemed to be waiting for something.


    I inhaled, let the air suffuse my lungs, then exhaled lightly. Mawar¡¯s scarlet eyes trailed my misting breath. ¡°I told you the truth, Retainer Mawar,¡± I said, feeling my adrenaline seep away. ¡°I¡¯ve fought Mardeth.¡± I knelt, looking her in the eye. From this angle, she looked far more her age. A scared teenager in over her head. ¡°I lost. Brutally. Which is why I¡¯m here now. I¡¯m going to find what he¡¯s doing; what he¡¯s planning, and I¡¯m going to burn it to the ground myself.¡±


    I tilted my head, watching how the young girl¡¯s heartfire flared and pulsed in a heightened, terrified rhythm. With my Phoenix Will engaged, I could see the black motes that suffused the naturally red embers. Signs of Vritra blood.


    ¡°I came here to find information about him. So you¡¯re going to tell me everything you know.¡±

 Chapter 117: Leads

    Mawar


    I coughed, my body rattling as blood streamed down my chin. Pain lanced through my stomach, but it was somehow distant. I pulled myself against the wall, the cold snow underneath me biting through my tattered dress.


    I groaned slightly, my mind trying to catch up with what was happening.


    I felt the overwhelming urge to run. I wasn¡¯t the predator anymore. I should be, but this monster in front of me watched with the calculating eyes of a bird of prey. They burned me with every tracing movement over my skin.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask again,¡± the mage said, crouching in front of me. ¡°What do you know of Mardeth?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to try harder than that,¡± I forced out, trying to appear strong. My Scythe, Melzri, had told me over and over again that the only way I could be strong was to break those that broke me first. ¡°You¡¯ll have to¨C¡±


    ¡°Do to you what you threatened to me?¡± the man asked, cocking his head. He seemed eerily calm; something that only made me shudder more. I found myself wishing I hadn¡¯t ripped his mask off. Somehow, the hard angles of his face seemed more terrifying than the old vicar¡¯s mask. There was a scar stretching over one of his brows, and runes burned under his eyes like hot coals. ¡°That¡¯s how Mardeth operates, you know. By torture.¡±


    I lowered my eyes, wincing as I exhaled. ¡°Do what you will,¡± I hissed.


    He plodded forward, loping like a brimstain lion. I froze as he neared, and not from the cold. Eventually, he stood not a foot from my crumpled form. I closed my eyes shut, waiting for the end.


    They¡¯ll try and hurt you, daughter, Melzri¡¯s voice bounced around in my head. They think you are weak. They think you are unworthy of your position. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I am unworthy, I thought, fighting back a stray tear as death loomed closer. I failed.


    ¡°My mask,¡± a voice said from over me. ¡°Give it to me.¡±


    My eyes fluttered open in incomprehension. His mask?


    I wheezed stupidly for a few seconds, before the dark, riveted metal mask in my hands suddenly alit with a white outline. It yanked itself out of my hands, leaving my fingers grasping for something; anything to anchor me


    The mask settled back into the man¡¯s hands. The straps around the back were torn away, so he was unable to put it back on. The front had been damaged irreparably by my decaying magic. He stowed it away in a dimension ring with a scoff.


    ¡°You said Mardeth had a base along the Redwater?¡± the man¡¯s even timbre said.


    I tried to force mana along my limbs to ward away the cold. It moved like molasses, my core stuttering painfully. That punch had rattled my nexus of power more than I¡¯d ever experienced.


    ¡°He¡­ he has a new base near the headwaters. At the base of Mount Coreshen, along the western bank,¡± I responded hazily. ¡°He went there after something happened in Fiachra a week ago or so. Something about Scythe Seris intervening and Scythe Dragoth offering asylum.¡±


    The runes faded from the man¡¯s cheeks. The glowing chains, which superimposed themselves over his sleek, dark tunic, shimmered away in turn. The pressure, which I hadn¡¯t even realized had suffused the air, dispersed like mist under the sun. Suddenly, each breath felt less painful.


    ¡°That strain on your core will wear off after a while,¡± the mage said. Under the moonlight, I was able to see that his hair¨Cwhich was tied off into a short tail¨Cwas a strawberry-blonde color. There was a little streak of some other color in there, too. Was that red? ¡°But you won¡¯t be able to use your mana at maximum efficiency for a little while.¡±


    He turned away from me, seemingly putting me out of his thoughts. I felt a primal urge to lash out at his back; to carve it away and reap my vengeance.


    ¡°You might still be able to save the mages in that cave,¡± he said, his voice sounding tired. ¡°Don¡¯t let them die. Like Mardeth would.¡±


    Shame crept up on me like some sort of plague, cloying at my chest like a ragged claw.


    ¡°Wait,¡± I called out, trying to push myself to my feet. I stumbled, my gut trembling as bones shifted. ¡°Wait!¡±


    The mage paused but didn¡¯t look back.


    ¡°You said you fought Mardeth,¡± I said. ¡°How¨C how powerful was he? How strong do I need to be to kill him?¡±


    The man looked back, those burning orange eyes staring straight into my soul. ¡°Let me tell you something, Mawar,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°You might think you have a claim on that man. That he owes you his life. But make no mistake. He is mine to kill. That vicar hurt people very, very close to me. And for that, I¡¯m going to break him before the effigies of his gods. So they can watch and sneer. Do you understand?¡±


    I swallowed, the killing intent wafting off the man making my already weakened body tremble. ¡°You won¡¯t get to kill him,¡± I hissed. ¡°His life belongs to me!¡± I said, my voice raw.


    The man scoffed, then hopped off the roof.


    I stumbled over to where he¡¯d leapt, trying to find a trace of him, but he was gone. The only remaining proof of our fight was the lingering footprints and creaking timbers of the massive temple.


    As I numbly stared at the bare evidence of our clash, I belatedly realized I had never demanded his name.


    ¡ª


    I carefully let myself down back into the temple, each movement jostling my ribs. A few were definitely broken, and they¡¯d take a week or so to heal with my level of core refinement. I groaned as I reached the ground, falling to my knees.


    My hands clenched around the dust on the ground, anger surging through me. That strange, red-haired mage had ruined everything. Maybe he was opposed to Mardeth, but all he¡¯d done was spring the trap I¡¯d laid months in advance.


    Why couldn¡¯t he have just let himself die? I thought, a weak whine in my internal voice.


    Again, Melzri¡¯s advice echoed back. They¡¯ll all try and fight you; those stupid peasants. They don¡¯t understand what they face. You¡¯re part of our family now, daughter. And that means you¡¯re above them. They need to understand that.


    My Scythe had a strange habit of treating every person in the upper echelons of Alacryan society as if they were part of a giant family. At first, it had unnerved me. Scared me. But the woman tried, in her own strange way, to actually treat me like a mother. Or what she thought a mother should be. She peppered me with gifts. Tried to teach me what she knew. Tried to spend time with me; doing things as simple as eating breakfast together.


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    But I had a feeling she was wrong about us, now. I¡¯d never heard of the man who¡¯d pummeled me so thoroughly. How was I above him?


    And if he is weaker than Mardeth, a traitorous voice whispered, What would that mean about your chances? How can you ever prove yourself worthy to be Melzri¡¯s retainer? She calls you daughter. But you aren¡¯t. Not really.


    I staggered toward the collapsed stairwell. With an effort of will, I engaged my regalia, Dread Siren¡¯s Grasp. A few tendrils of solidified void wind stretched from my body, wrapping themselves around the massive chunks of rock and withering them away or tossing them to the side. The monotony of the work helped bury those traitorous thoughts even deeper in my skull.


    In a few seconds, I¡¯d made a small tunnel for myself. I slowly stumbled down the steps, surveying the wreckage of my fight with that irritatingly nimble mage.


    I wasn¡¯t running, the sharp-jawed mage¡¯s voice said in my mind. I remembered how his eyes had flared with determination. I was changing the battlefield.


    I could see it now as I moved through this confined space. That man had toyed with me, pulling on my emotions to make me reckless. To draw me into a place where he had the advantage. He was nimble like a rat; bounding around as if he could fly. He wasn¡¯t flying; of that I was certain.


    My further thoughts cut off as I realized something was wrong. When I¡¯d chased my foe out of this room, at least two of the mages Melzri had assigned to me were still alive. They¡¯d been wounded, true, but alive.


    I couldn¡¯t sense their mana signatures anymore.


    I burst into the massive cavern, my eyes searching for threats. Mana thrummed weakly along my channels, my mind ready for a fight.


    Instead, my hands drooped in uncomprehension. The bodies of all five mages who had accompanied me were splashed with blood, deep cuts along their necks illuminating how they¡¯d been assassinated. Their eyes stared up unblinkingly in the empty air.


    During my fight with the fire-wielding mage, someone had snuck in here and stolen the object I¡¯d invested so much time in guarding. The massive, heart-shaped chunk of basilisk blood no longer rested in the chamber.


    Toren Daen


    My clothes fluttered around me as I fell from the top of the temple. With a barest telekinetic push, I softened my fall. I raised a hand to my forearm as I called on my lifeforce, slowly healing the damage Mawar had done to my body. I felt the fatigue setting in.


    I wasn¡¯t in danger of using up my excess lifeforce quite yet, but drawing on that reserve always made me feel a strange sort of tiredness. Aurora, now freed from the necessity of stabilizing my Acquire Phase, took control of the feathered relic once more.


    The clockwork bird fought its way out of my tunic, and then perched on my shoulder.


    ¡°You conducted yourself well,¡± Aurora complimented. The bird made no noise besides its stereotypical whirrs. ¡°You kept your cool and maneuvered that confrontation expertly. Though you may have gotten more information had you pressed your advantage.¡±


    She was barely a girl, I thought tiredly. Torturing her is not a line I¡¯m willing to cross. I can¡¯t become what I seek to destroy.


    ¡°You make a fair point,¡± my bond allowed. ¡°Though I worry what sort of consequences this will have for you in the future.¡±


    Perhaps it would have been wiser to simply kill Mawar, but that came with its own troubles. Murdering a retainer in their home city would only bring Scythe Melzri¡¯s retribution. I hoped the worst I¡¯d have to deal with would only be Mawar¡¯s attention, and not anyone higher up.


    It¡¯s a lose lose situation, I thought. The best outcome would¡¯ve been escaping, or perhaps avoiding being caught in the first place. But I need to work with what I have.


    It was inevitable that I¡¯d run into those higher on the totem pole as I tried to track someone as powerful as Mardeth. This was the kind of price I had to be willing to pay.


    The bird on my shoulder looked to the side. ¡°Are you aware of these watching eyes?¡±


    I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my fingers. Yeah, I replied internally. I just wanted to put it off as long as possible.


    ¡°Xander,¡± I said aloud, looking directly where I felt the watching presence, ¡°There might not be any canals here for me to throw your corpse into, but I¡¯m sure I can find something creative,¡± I said, referencing the threat I¡¯d always used on him. ¡°Mount Nishan isn¡¯t that far away. How does a bath in lava sound?¡±


    Hesitantly, the mossy-haired mage stepped from the shadows. His eyes were wide and slightly disbelieving as he looked me up and down. Lady Shorn¡¯s ever-persistent spy had managed to find me in Nirmala at last. It seemed Renea wasn¡¯t so ready to let me kill myself as she let on.


    He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. ¡°You won,¡± he said stupidly. ¡°Against a Retainer. I only saw the end, but on the top of that temple, it was clear. I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes.¡±


    ¡°I told your boss that I was far stronger than I let on,¡± I said, sweeping past the spy. He stood straight as a rod for several seconds, clearly debating what to do next, before finally trailing after me like a whipped dog begging for food. ¡°Considering she sent you after me, should I assume she still wants me alive?¡±


    ¡°Well, uh,¡± the poor man said uncertainly, ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± I replied, plodding toward the central teleportation gate. They didn¡¯t operate this late in the night, so I¡¯d have to wait for the morning to pay the fee to return to Fiachra. ¡°So, why are you still following me?¡±


    The hesitant mage hurried to keep up with me. He wasn¡¯t scared, exactly, which was worth the credit. ¡°While you were¡­ Interrogating Retainer Mawar,¡± the man said, seeming to be baffled he was even saying the words, ¡°Another mage infiltrated that underground base. I considered giving chase, but it wasn¡¯t in my mission.¡±


    I ground my teeth, thinking of what Mawar had said. She expected someone to come back for Mardeth¡¯s experiments, but I¡¯d interrupted that process. Had someone from Mardeth¡¯s close circle capitalized on my distraction?


    ¡°Where did they go?¡± I asked, knowing it was likely a lost cause. ¡°Which direction?¡±


    Xander pointed to the west hesitantly. ¡°I saw them disappear into the buildings that way. But it was several minutes ago. They might be too far gone.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork bird left my shoulder with a shrill chirp, soaring up into the sky. ¡°Allow me, Toren,¡± my bond said over our mental tether. ¡°A bird¡¯s eye view may give you the clues you need.¡±


    We both knew she was unlikely to spot anything. I suspected Aurora was trying to spare me any more energy tonight; giving me a chance to rest instead of immediately taking up pursuit.


    Okay, I responded tiredly as the bird zipped off westward. Xander watched it go with a curious frown on his face.


    Well, I know where I need to investigate next, I thought, mentally cataloging everything I¡¯d learned. Mardeth was using basilisk blood to invigorate his drugs somehow and had been for a long time. That felt important, but I couldn¡¯t put my finger on why. And I¡¯ll have to find the time to investigate that base Mawar told me about.


    I felt the flash of mana as mages started to rush toward my current location. I sighed.


    ¡°It was about time someone came to investigate the disturbance Retainer Mawar and I made,¡± I said, simultaneously withdrawing my mana into myself. Granted, nobody wanted to get in the way of that kind of fight, but the response time had been extremely late. Probably because we¡¯d clashed in the middle of a less-populated area, as well as it being well past midnight. Xander quickly activated whatever cloaking spellform he had, shrouding himself in obscurity. He looked at me uncertainly.


    ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± I said, sighing slightly. ¡°You should get back to your boss.¡±


    Before I bounded up into the rooftops, I spared a quick glance behind me. The decrepit temple¨Calready weathered and beaten by the unrelenting fist of time¨Cseemed to droop. The magnitude of the fight within had crippled a surprising number of the remaining support beams, and I was surprised it was still standing tall.


    I remembered Hofal describing it to me way back in Fiachra. He¡¯d said it was beautiful on the outside.


    I tried to see it. For that smallest fraction of time, I tried to envision this aged structure as something wonderful. Those tall, stretching buttresses. The intricate crenelations, all emblazoned with imagery of basilisks and serpents. The stained glass; no longer pristine.


    I couldn¡¯t see the wonder any longer.


    I scoffed, turning back to the road. Then I leapt up into the rooftops, watching as half a dozen battlemages converged on the temple.

 Chapter 118: Concert Preparations

    Toren Daen


    ¡°Have you made sure to polish your instrument?¡± a harsh voice asked. ¡°The microfiber cloths we provided should have been more than sufficient.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied.


    ¡°Did you practice for twenty minutes this morning, as recommended?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡° came my bland response.


    ¡°And did you make sure to keep yourself hidden from the attending guests? We can¡¯t afford for them to see you before your initial reveal.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I did,¡± I said, tired.


    Unfortunately, I hadn¡¯t seen Renea since I left her to track down leads in Nirmala. The man in front of me, Denvish, was the event organizer assigned to me by Bloodstone Elixirs. His job was to make sure everything was perfect for my upcoming performance, and he was damn good at his job. Maybe a little too good. From the way he grilled his employees over the smallest details to the constant buzzing presence over my shoulder, he¡¯d quickly become a bother.


    The past couple of weeks had been a constant routine of research, violin practice, assimilation, and then more practice.


    ¡°Have you made sure to iron your clothes before wearing them today?¡± the middle-aged man asked once more. ¡°We can¡¯t afford a single wrinkle on your vest.¡±


    He was fond of always claiming, ¡°We can¡¯t afford this,¡± as if he were somehow part of his internal equation. I¡¯d quickly learned that even if you did everything to the letter, this irritating planner would still somehow find something to gripe about.


    I wore a dark gray dress shirt tucked into matching slate-colored trousers. Instead of boots, I wore black Oxford shoes, something I was unused to. The ensemble created a look of sleek elegance; not a stitch out of place. With my hair tied back into a short tail, I looked like a proper gentleman.


    But the cherry on top of my current dress was my maroon-colored vest. The custom-made waistcoat was a weave of expensive thread that stood out against the darker colors of my clothes. A stylized insignia was emblazoned in deep orange over my breast and again mirrored in greater scale on the back of the waistcoat.


    The sigil of Named Blood Daen had changed. Before, it depicted a simple dagger with rivers of runes streaming from the edge. But I¡¯d been reborn in the Relictombs. My First Sculpting marked something fundamental in my self-evolution; growing into something new. It was only right my Blood insignia shifted to match this change.


    When setting out to alter my house insignia, the first thing that flashed in my mind was that strange rune that had appeared over the portal frame in the undead zone when I¡¯d finally imbued it with lifeforce. It was a stylized depiction of a heart, though if one tilted their head, it almost looked like it was ablaze with fire. I¡¯d known, almost instinctually, that it was a runic representation of lifeforce.


    I¡¯d taken that rune and integrated it into my new insignia. Now, a dagger thrust through that emblazoned heart. If you peered close enough, you could see a strange hexagonal symbol on the hilt of the knife. The organ leaked runes instead of blood on either side; the same glyphs that had always accompanied Named Blood Daen.


    ¡°Your Blood was forged in the Relictombs,¡± Arlan, the aged Daen steward, had always said. ¡°And that is why you honor it with your sigil.¡±


    How right he was, I thought absently. Not just forged, but reforged. Remade in the Relictombs, like a dagger that is continuously sharpened.


    ¡°Are you even listening to me?¡± a scathing voice cut across my thoughts. I went cross-eyed as Denvish thrust a hand near my nose, snapping his fingers irritatedly. ¡°For someone who is supposed to play music, you are the worst listener I¡¯ve ever met, Lord Daen.¡±


    I pushed his hand out of my face, my nose wrinkling in irritation. ¡°What is it?¡± I said, my annoyance growing.


    ¡°I asked if you had cleaned the inside of your violin case today,¡± the man said imperiously. His hawk-like eyes narrowed. ¡°But you appeared to be caught in your own little world.¡±


    I sighed wearily. Who the hell cleaned their violin case regularly? I¡¯d bet I was literally the only one simply because of this bastard. ¡°I did, Denvish. Can you please go bother someone else?¡±


    The man opened his mouth, no doubt to admonish me for trying to shoo him away before he spotted something behind me. ¡°Hey!¡± he called, marching off toward a man who was setting up a tent pole. ¡°You aren¡¯t angling that properly, you fool!¡±


    I groaned in relief, grateful that the man was finally out of the way.


    We were currently in a hastily conjured earthen encampment on the Fiachran plain outside the city. The mages hired by Bloodstone Elixirs had done a remarkable job at setting up a mock stadium in record time, raising seats, stands, and an entire stage from the ground. It wasn¡¯t perfect, of course, but with the decorations and little embellishments here and there, the imperfections were easy to look over.


    I was currently in a little tent behind the main stage. Considering today was the concert day, I¡¯d been careful to arrive early, well before any prospective crowd. Renea had been true to her word: there wasn¡¯t an entrance fee to listen to my music, though there were seats that were closer to the front of the stage that needed a premium to reserve.


    Though that irritated me, it wasn¡¯t a battle I had the time or energy to fight right now.


    A shadow darted through the flaps of my tent, wearing a close-fitting black ensemble. They raised their hand dramatically, clearly planning on saying something grand.


    ¡°Hey, Naereni,¡± I said, completely ignoring her theatrics.


    The ice mage lowered her hand dejectedly, then took off her Rat mask. ¡°Do you need to be such a spoilsport, Toren?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I just escaped being lectured to by Denvish,¡± I said. ¡°I am all out of amusement.¡±


    Naereni shuddered. ¡°He caught me sneaking in one time. Instead of throwing me out, he tried to make me decorate the seats!¡±


    ¡°Did it work?¡± I asked, feeling curious.


    Naereni scoffed. ¡°Pfff. No. I left the moment he looked away.¡±


    I snickered slightly. Imagining the small, bulbous man¡¯s irate face going red like a cherry did give me some much-needed levity.


    ¡°I got as many people from East Fiachra as I could to leave the city for this,¡± Naereni started. ¡°They¡¯re already thankful for what you¡¯ve done, so attending this little concert isn¡¯t much for them.¡±


    I smiled genuinely. As the time for the concert drew nearer, my sense for heartfire gave me hints as to how many people were attending. There was a surprising amount. ¡°Thanks, Naereni. Though I¡¯m worried about the sky.¡±


    Today was very, very overcast. From a report Denvish had shoved in my face a few hours ago, I knew a surprise storm was sweeping west across the continent. There had been too much setup to postpone the show, but the clouds overhead looked ominous. The man had ranted about how ¡°This wouldn¡¯t be a problem if you just performed in a theater!¡±


    Naereni shuffled nervously from side to side, something that was unusual for the brash young striker.


    ¡°Have you learned anything more about Mardeth¡¯s plans?¡± she finally asked. ¡°You said a couple of weeks ago that you were chasing a lead.¡±


    I exhaled softly through my nose. Naereni had her own stake in my face-off with Mardeth; one just as personal as my own. It was a blithe overdose that killed her father, after all. ¡°The Vicar of Plague has been experimenting with mixing diluted basilisk blood into his blithe mixtures. I¡¯ve been researching the uses of basilisk blood on elixirs, toxins, and more for the past while, but I¡¯m not a chemist,¡± I said honestly. ¡°There¡¯s another lead I¡¯ll need to track down soon, but I haven¡¯t had the time.¡±


    Naereni wilted slightly. ¡°Is there anything I can do?¡± she asked. ¡°I feel so¡­ so helpless in all of this. I¡¯m used to making a difference, you know?¡±


    I stood up, walking over and patting my friend on the shoulder. ¡°Yeah, I understand what you mean,¡± I said honestly. ¡°But I can¡¯t do all of this alone. And you are making a difference with the Rats, even if it''s small.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± Naereni sighed. ¡°It feels like you¡¯re moving on and up, and leaving the rest of us behind. Wade, Karsien, Hofal and I¨Cwe¡¯re trying to keep East Fiachra together. But you¡¯re off dancing with the highbloods.¡± She didn¡¯t say it in an accusing way. Just sorrowful.


    I felt a knot of guilt tie itself in my throat. The first people in this world who had truly been there for me; who had dedicated themselves as my allies and friends, had been the Rats. And it was true that I was drifting away.


    I opened my mouth to respond, but Naereni laughed in a self-deprecating manner. ¡°Never mind that,¡± she said. ¡°I hope your concert goes well.¡±


    She brushed away my hand, sliding out of the tent without another word. I watched her go, feeling like I could have done more.


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork puppet perched on the back of a nearby chair. Its burning eyes watched the Young Rat go with what I thought was a complicated expression.


    ¡°I still do not trust the intentions of this ¡®Renea Shorn,¡¯¡± Aurora said as the Unseen World washed over my vision. The asuran shade sat in a tall-backed chair, her flowing robes making her seem like some sort of old, martial master. The hole in her chest had stopped bleeding since her recovery. ¡°To go to such lengths to display your music with so little return does not sit well with me.¡±


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    As far as I was aware, Renea wasn¡¯t here to see this concert of mine. I felt a momentary stab of disappointment regarding that before I buried it.


    You¡¯re thinking about the Rats and how she manipulated them, I posited internally. You think she¡¯s still trying to do the same with me. Manipulate me into some sort of position somehow.


    ¡°I do,¡±


    Aurora said honestly. ¡°I have not seen the woman myself, but from what you explained to me, she is a deadly tactician. A master strategist. And a mage with a mind for business. And there is not enough profit involved in this for its viability. At least not that I can see. I wish to meet her myself to gauge her intentions.¡±


    I¡¯d told Aurora about the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel match I¡¯d had with the dark-haired CEO and her deductions regarding my thought process, as well as my initial agreement with Renea in the depths of Trelza¡¯s clinic. I¡¯d insisted that the woman shared a note of idealism akin to my own, but Aurora still maintained her doubts. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Maybe there is another reason for her to sponsor my music, I acknowledged with a sigh. But even if there is a secondary objective she wishes to accomplish, I am certain that it¡¯s not solely due to that. She does have a soft spot in her heart.


    Aurora shifted slightly. From the look on her face, I knew she didn¡¯t truly buy it. I was still more idealistic than the phoenix. I wasn¡¯t sure if she saw that as a strength or a weakness.


    Before the conversation continued, another familiar figure entered the tent. The Unseen World washed away from my vision as Sevren Denoir approached, looking me up and down.


    ¡°You look good in that outfit,¡± he said appraisingly. ¡°The maroon compliments your hair well.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Says the man who only wears teal and black,¡± I retorted. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you knew what fashion was.¡±


    The Denoir heir let himself down into a nearby chair. We¡¯d kept a semi-regular correspondence over the past couple of weeks as I¡¯d been invested in my research and practice. ¡°I have a few more papers on the effects of basilisk blood on mana-imbibed elixirs,¡± he said, withdrawing a stack of paper from his dimension ring.


    With a bare effort of my telekinetic emblem, I latched onto the proffered papers, then drew them into my own ring. ¡°Thanks, Sevren,¡± I said. I¡¯d quickly run out of comprehensive material at the Fiachran libraries and had called in a bit of a favor from the highblood heir. ¡°Any updates on that spellform of yours?¡±


    My friend had been experimenting and testing the mechanics of his djinn-bestowed spellform these past few weeks as well. He¡¯d gone on several short ascents, marking the ins and outs of what he could do. It mainly allowed him to change the output destination of descension portals, not unlike the djinn compass Arthur would eventually find.


    But I didn¡¯t get a response. I frowned, turning to look at the white-haired striker. ¡°Sevren?¡±


    ¡°What exactly is your Bond like?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°When you connect with¡­ Lady Dawn, how does it feel to you? How does it impact your mind? Your thought process?¡±


    I furrowed my brows, confused by this avenue of questioning. Aurora, piloting her steampunk sparrow, hopped off her chair and glided over to my shoulder. ¡°I do not believe you understand the gravity of what you ask, Artificer,¡± the little construct said. ¡°The Bond between us is as entrenched as the soul. It runs thicker than blood; deeper than any magic you know.¡±


    Sevren seemed disconcerted by Aurora¡¯s response. ¡°I did discover something new about my spellform,¡± he said slowly, ¡°But I don¡¯t know how to understand it. And this was the best way I could think of how.¡±


    I leaned forward slightly, intrigued. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°This last time I used my spellform, I kept it active for far longer than I usually do. It was the next on my list of tests. How long could I keep a portal active? Would the mana drain remain the same throughout my use of it? That kind of thing.¡± He inhaled, his fists clenched. ¡°But the longer I kept a portal destination changed, the more I felt something¡­ buzzing in the back of my mind. Something that wasn¡¯t me or my mana.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re asking if this is what our Bond is like,¡± I replied, filling in the gaps. ¡°You think something is connected to you.¡±


    ¡°I know something is connected to me,¡± the white-haired striker responded, emphasizing the word. ¡°But I have no point of reference for this. The feeling diminished once I got far enough away from the portal, but still,¡± he said, trailing off.


    I sat down heavily in a nearby chair, trying to figure out what this was. Was there another djinn in the Relictombs he was connecting to, somewhere? Or was it some sort of embedded part of that rune?


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid runes aren¡¯t my area of expertise in magic,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°I told you a little while back that my magic is unique. It¡¯s somewhat akin to the Dicathian methods, so I¡¯m not sure what is possible or impossible with runes. But my tether to Lady Dawn isn¡¯t a buzzing. It¡¯s¡­¡±


    I paused, trying to formulate the words. But how did one describe sight to one who has never seen? Sound to a person who has been deaf their whole life?


    ¡°It¡¯s like a whole other sense,¡± I said, hoping I could articulate this properly. ¡°Like smell. Or touch. But instead of an extension of the body, it''s an extension of the mind. A tether that¡¯s always there; one that you recognize by sheer instinct.¡±


    When I¡¯d first felt the presence of my Bond with Aurora, I¡¯d known instantly what it was with an intuitive accuracy.


    Sevren was frowning. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. Not nearly as¡­ intimate. But at least that rules out one possibility.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I get flashes of things, though. Sensations. Visions. Nothing concrete; and it''s only when I¡¯m super close to a portal and that connection is the strongest.¡±


    I stilled, looking at Aurora¡¯s puppet. Cautiously, I reached a hand out, caressing the threads of lifeforce my Bond used to pilot the little craft.


    If I clenched my hand around them, I was able to see exactly what Aurora was witnessing through the steampunk sparrow. But if my hands simply feathered over those strings instead¡­


    I got brief glimpses. Bursting, still screenshots of my own face flooded my mind, the perspective of the burnished brass bird filtering through.


    Aurora caught onto my thought process quickly. ¡°The tether between myself and this relic acts much the same under Toren¡¯s influence,¡± she said, speaking aloud through the clockwork bird so Sevren could hear. ¡°He is able to influence my own tie to this craft with minimal effect. And perhaps¡­¡±


    The Denoir heir looked at the bird sharply. As part of his stipulations for allowing Lady Dawn to use this relic freely, Sevren had requested we report all the workings of aether that we could discover from it to him. And it seemed Aurora was eager to pay off that debt. ¡°So you¡¯re saying¡­¡±


    ¡°At least on the surface,¡± I breathed out, ¡°It seems what might be affecting you is a tether of heartfire; which is my area of expertise. If you can show me what happens when you¡¯re near a portal, maybe I can¨C¡±


    I was cut off by aggravated shouting from outside my tent. I recognized one of the voices. ¡°We can¡¯t stop the show!¡± Denvish snapped. ¡°Sure, the storm might be coming, but all the work we¡¯ve done would be for nothing if we simply pack and leave!¡±


    ¡°Would you rather all those outside get drenched instead?¡± another voice snapped back. I didn¡¯t know this one, but the edge to it made me rise in apprehension. ¡°We can reschedule to another¨C¡±


    ¡°No, we can¡¯t,¡± Denvish said sharply. ¡°Lady Shorn called in more than a few favors to allow this large of a turnout on the first showing. If we were to reschedule, how many wouldn¡¯t be able to attend? Or would refuse to do so, claiming their debts paid?!¡±


    Feeling a nervous buildup in my chest, I stood up, pushing open the flaps to my tent. Just beyond, the rising wall of the stage blocked my view of the seating beyond, but I could feel the hustle and bustle of men beyond with my mana and hearfire senses. The rolling hills of central Sehz-Clar stretched onto infinity in front of me, small forested areas interspersing the range.


    Overhead, the sky was dark with storm clouds. They must¡¯ve rolled in over the past half hour or so, coating the sky in a blanket of deep gray. I swallowed, looking up at those clouds in the growing gloom.


    If it rains, I thought, realization creeping up, If it storms, I won¡¯t be able to play. My chance will be washed away with the rainwater.


    Denvish was redfaced, arguing fervently with another man I did not recognize. From the elegant attire he wore, I recognized him as another organizer of the event.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I interrupted, drawing the attention of both men.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to reschedule your little concert, Lord Daen,¡± the man I didn¡¯t recognize said, brushing off his suit and giving me a polite bow. He had a hawklike nose that stood out as he spoke. ¡°With the imminent storm, it¡¯s pointless to keep these people here any longer.¡±


    I stayed silent as Aurora¡¯s clockwork relic fluttered out of the tent, landing on my shoulder. Sevren came out a moment later, looking concerned.


    ¡°We can¡¯t afford it!¡± Denvish bit out. ¡°All the favors our Lady has leveraged for this single day can¡¯t be wasted!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t fool yourself, Denvish,¡± the other man said. ¡°If you would bother to check, you¡¯d notice that Blooded families are already leaving the little stadium. They don¡¯t want to get drenched by rainwater.¡±


    I looked up, trying to hone in on my sense of mana. I cast my attention to the side, trying to get a feel for what was happening beyond the tall-backed stage of solid earth.


    The hawk-nosed presenter was right. Some people were already beginning to leave. Through the weave of ambient intent, I could sense their displeasure. Their annoyance. Their irritation.


    I sank into a nearby chair, grasping my head in my hands. I took a deep breath, feeling a wave of disappointment flush through me. I¡¯d done nothing but practice my art for these past couple of weeks, anxiously awaiting the day I¡¯d be able to play for the masses.


    I looked back up at the sky, grinding my teeth. The sky overhead mocked me with its shadow. You may try to show them a path, it said to me. But even the weather works against you. You¡¯ll never give these people another way.


    Sensing my plummeting mood, Aurora¡¯s relic form extended a wing to wrap around the back of my head in a gesture resembling a hug. ¡°I am sorry this has happened to you. But all is not lost, Toren,¡± she said soothingly. ¡°You will have another day to play for the masses.¡±


    With a scowl on his face, Sevren pushed his way toward the arguing event preparers. I heard him introduce himself, a roll of shock splintering through the irritated men. Each of them gave a deep bow as Sevren introduced himself as the heir to Highblood Denoir. He started asking both of them questions about this venue, but it drifted past my ears.


    I could feel the people beyond leaving. They funneled out of the mini-stadium in quiet groups of twos and threes.


    And I knew these people weren¡¯t rejecting my message. I knew this wasn¡¯t my last chance to make a difference; that this was merely a setback on the road. But each footfall felt like a personal dismissal of what I planned to say.


    I felt resolve settling in my stomach. It coiled and churned there, slowly prodding me toward a course of action.


    What barrier does the sky hold for me? I thought, standing slowly. Why must I turn and change with the weather?


    I began to march, brushing past the three mages as they conversed about something. The hawk-nosed man noticed the direction I was trodding. He hastily broke off from the argument, trailing behind me. ¡°My lord!¡± he called. ¡°You can¡¯t go up there! Not today!¡±


    His complaints blew past my ears like a feather in the wind; hardly registered. The sky is the domain of the phoenix, I thought, and I felt my Bond react to those words. Where before she had been consoling, now she shifted to encouragement. She sensed a part of my plan. The winds belong to us. They are no barrier to me or my magic.


    In a trance not dissimilar to the one I¡¯d experienced when I¡¯d first played my intent-based music, I slowly ascended the steps behind the stage, ignoring the desperate calls of the hawk-nosed organizer.


    I had a concert to play.

 Chapter 119: The Song of the Storm

    Beta Read by Infinity21


    Toren Daen


    I walked up onto the stage. A harsh wind whipped at my hair, the cool end-of-winter draft biting at my skin like a savage beast. You don¡¯t get to have this, the air seemed to say. You are helpless before the tides of nature. Nothing. A speck.


    Thunder rumbled overhead, a sign of the sky¡¯s anger as it preluded a storm. I glanced at the deep, dark clouds far above. They still mocked me. But the sky was the domain of the phoenix. The rumbles of the world would not cow me.


    I looked over the small stadium in front of me. Two hundred feet of seats thrust up from the earth were like statues awaiting a declaration of war. My eyes scanned over the viewers, scattered across the even layout of the fields. Some were getting up to leave.


    Most of those people were of noble houses, and I could recognize a few of the house symbols. They nervously watched the sky, tension rippling through the air. They feared the rain. And why wouldn¡¯t they?


    A few mages turned as I stepped onto the stage. A slight glance told me that they were among the stronger men present, but they hadn¡¯t seemed to notice me. They were too intent on leaving. On escaping the coming downpour.


    Along the farthest sides, several East Fiachrans shivered in their clothes, watching nervously.


    This isn¡¯t just for me, I thought, spotting Greahd in the crowd. It¡¯s for these people as well. So they won¡¯t be shunned.


    I couldn¡¯t let them leave without a show.


    I pressed outward with a flex of my will into the ambient mana, the wind stilling itself as I imposed myself into the air. For an instant, the storm clouds overhead seemed to hesitate in their predilection of doom. The world knew. It knew that the sky above was mine.


    The milling mages stalled, their heads turning as one to regard me. A few reached hands to their weapons, clearly feeling threatened by my display. A few looked affronted that I¡¯d drawn them from their escape. Some watched me with calculating gleams in their eyes. Their gazes brushed past me as I held myself firm.


    Look to me, my intent conveyed. I am a blot of white on a canvas of black. You can¡¯t ignore me. The contrast will not allow you.


    My aura was not that of violence. It was more akin to an explosion of paint in a room full of well-dressed men. Bright colors, ringing bells, drawing attention and standing out. No matter how hard one tried, they wouldn¡¯t be able to ignore it.


    That aura. I took it, molded it in my hands, and imposed it onto the world itself.


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork form expanded its wings, screeching into the air. Its echo reverberated through the dark sky, voices and demands stilling as the cry cut through it all.


    Everything was still. The calm before the storm; the instant between a lightning flash and a sonic boom. I took a deep breath, feeling my nerves clash inside. All eyes were on me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know me,¡± I said, my voice spreading through the stadium. ¡°But I am Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± I said, allowing my reborn sigil to stand proudly on my chest. ¡°And today was supposed to be a day of music.¡±


    ¡°What are you thinking,¡± a voice called out, ¡°trying to stop us from leaving when a storm is coming? And we know you, Daen. Why else would we be here?¡±


    My attention, along with the majority of the crowd, shifted to the man who had made the outburst. His clothing was impeccable, his short, dark hair slicked back. A familiar symbol was plastered onto his coat. A Jasper.


    Blood Jasper,


    I recognized. Hofal and I blew up one of their blithe warehouses as they worked with Blood Joan.


    I cursed internally. My optimism had blinded me. I hadn¡¯t expected someone to come and try to sabotage the event; at least not so early on.


    Aurora¡¯s puppet slowly refolded its wings, staring intently at the Jasper man. I¡¯d wager he was sent to disrupt anything I was trying today. From the gleam in his eyes and the angry mumblings of the many men and women around him, it seemed his plans were working.


    I wouldn¡¯t allow it.


    ¡°You think you know me,¡± I said lowly, allowing the slight tinge of menace to carry through the crowd. ¡°But most of you are here not for what was advertised.¡±


    I paused, scanning the many men and women beyond me.


    ¡°Some of you wish to gather more intel on me in the aftermath of what I did to the Joans. Some of you are paying back a favor to my patron, Lady Renea Shorn. You hope to wash away your debts to her by attending this little concert.¡±


    A rush of surprise went through some of the guests. My elimination of Blood Joan was an open secret, true, but I¡¯d just publicly admitted to ending their line. Still, others mumbled as I called them out on their true intentions.


    ¡°I¡¯m quite aware of this fact,¡± I said with candor.


    The air was almost electric as I continued. I wondered if it was from the crowd¡¯s displeasure, my own power wafting through, or the imminent thunderstorm. I felt a drop of water hit my head, and from how many nobles looked up, I knew they did, too.


    The Rats watched with nervous eyes. I couldn¡¯t see Karsien among them, but I knew he was watching. Waiting for something to change.


    I threaded mana through my dimension ring, withdrawing the age-old heirloom of Named Blood Daen. My violin settled into my hands, its familiar curves resting in my palm as I withdrew my bow. The scent of polished wood banished the overlaying waft of ozone.


    ¡°I doubt many of you are here for what was promised.¡± I raised my violin to my chin, my bow hovering above the strings. ¡°The music.¡±


    A few more drops of water pinged off my head. Thunder rolled. The weather had halted for me; hesitated as I¡¯d shown my colors. But it was so, so angry. It wouldn¡¯t hold back in its tirade for long.


    ¡°Are you going to try and stop us from escaping this storm?¡± the Jasper man cried. The people around him were tense. Whether from the coming lightning or the tension I¡¯d exerted, I didn¡¯t know. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that my Blood¨C¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know the storm,¡± I said, cutting the man off and tilting my head to look up at the sky. The clouds swirled angrily. The treaty I¡¯d arranged with them was almost over. ¡°You want to escape the rain, don¡¯t you? But do you know what it¡¯s like to wade through the storm in an attempt to escape? To truly become one with the water and thunder overhead?¡±


    I drew my bow over the strings lightly, drawing out a slow note as the rain began to drizzle. ¡°I¡¯ll show you what a true escape from a storm is.¡±


    I blocked out the nervous anger of the crowd in front of me; the anticipatory eyes of the Rats and Sevren¡¯s nervous panic on the side. I even pushed away Aurora¡¯s bond in that instant, isolating myself from everything but me.


    I remembered a day months past. On one of my first ascents through the Relictombs, I faced a dimension of endless white trees. The gnarled branches sought my blood with an unending determination. Whenever I turned away, they¡¯d reorient, each of their limbs pointing toward my heart.


    What had I felt upon first entering that zone? Confusion. Total confusion. Where were the enemies to face? Where was the trial to be overcome?


    But as the day stretched on, that confusion shifted to eerie fear. I drew low notes in a slow, ominous tempo, projecting my memories into the ambient intent. Each note was a footfall along that single, empty path. Every spike was a sound deep in the unending woods. And all the while, a storm grew in scale miles in the sky.


    I opened my eyes as lightning flashed overhead. The rain came down in earnest now as the weather finally broke past its hesitation, but as I met the eyes of each and every mage in the stadium, I knew something had changed. Their heartbeats were spiking in tune with my music; their breathing elevated as they held onto the edges of their seats. Many of those who had started to leave walked back to their seats in a trance-like state. Their eyes flashed with nervous apprehension.


    A rapture was spreading as my intent-based music thrummed through their souls.


    As a crack of thunder chased the lightning like a wraith after a fleeing asura, I began to play in earnest.


    The rain crashed down, making the stage around me slick. My fingers struggled to maintain their grip as they were soaked by the rain, but I pushed through. The rhythm began to pick up.


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    As rain fell in my memories, something changed. The trees birthed their grotesque, demonic young. The fear of facing an unending horde splashed through my music, grasping roots trying to wrench my fingers from my instrument.


    I closed my eyes, weaving across the stage. I remembered ducking and pushing past hordes of wood-skinned aether beasts in the desperate struggle for an oasis. Every enemy I¡¯d cut down had revealed three more. The growing fear I¡¯d felt as the storm gathered had finally dropped to bone-breaking terror as an unending horde sought my blood.


    I weaved around imaginary enemies as my violin carried my emotions. Quick, fast-paced notes followed every kill. Every near-miss caused a wrenching dip in tempo that could steal away the heart.


    Water soaked through my ornate vest, the chill clinging to my skin and demanding to be known. The wretched claw of terror grasped my heart as its own beat sped up. I¡¯d been so vulnerable in that horde. So weak.


    Lightning flashed over the stadium as I was bludgeoned with rain, but it was inconsequential in the face of these deep memories. This storm was powerful. It commanded the clouds overhead to gather and bow to its demands. But every drop of water did not spawn a demon from the depths of hell. Every flash of lightning did not herald death.


    Two storms churned. One tried its damndest to break me across the stage, the winds whipping and pulling at my soaked clothing as lightning brightened my closed eyelids. Another drew up horrors from the deepest recesses of the djinn¡¯s broken psyche. Thunder pounded against the defenses of my skull like a demented god, the scent of blood and ozone mingling with old ferns.


    Through it all, I played. Time lost its meaning as I immersed myself in the memories, my hands seeming to move of their own accord as they remembered the desperate flashes of Oath and Promise in the dark, saber and dagger the only thing keeping the horde at bay. I remembered fighting on that pillar for hours on end, common thought and reason abandoned in the face of the primal dark. Desperation echoed clearly as the phantom pain of the blood dripping down my thigh flashed through my notes.


    A storm, both in my mind and out. Trying to break me. Trying to end me. Thunder and lightning crashing down, the wind whipping at my face and hair, the rain stinging as it pelted on my exposed hands and face like a demented child, doing its best to put an end to my song. Hating it with everything in its primal fury.


    But in the end, I held through.


    Storms were always present; always looming. But they¡­ they passed. When the sky had made her disdain known, then the rays of basking sunlight would kiss the ground, reassuring all left in the wake of the hurricane. That there was a light outside of black clouds. That there was another side of the pain.


    Both in my mind and overhead, the rain ceased. The infinite hordes of aether beasts collapsed back to the ground, planting themselves to renew their onslaught. They¡¯d try again should their roots be graced with water once more.


    I opened my eyes, gasping for breath as I stared up into the sky. Water dripped down my hair and face, the cold kiss of moisture trying to dig through my soul. My hands fell limply to my sides, both violin and bow nearly forgotten as the break in clouds overhead heralded the end of the downpour.


    The world itself seemed to hold its breath. I slowly became aware of the passing of time. I¡¯m not in the Relictombs, I forcefully reminded myself. That zone is gone. You escaped it months ago. It was just a memory.


    My leg throbbed in phantom pain. Flashes of blood-red eyes and crimson sap danced in my vision.


    My heart was beating at an absurd rate. The adrenaline in my veins tightened my grip, my fingers nearly crushing the violin. Gradually, I recognized other flows of heartfire as they pressed into my ears.


    A few hundred hearts throbbed in tandem, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to look down at them from my stage. The sky demanded my full attention. I thought I caught a flash of an outline in the air far above, but it was just another phantom. Another trick of my weary mind, fearing the wrath of the storm.


    A single, resonant clap echoed through the stillness. Then another. And another. Soon, hundreds of hands crashed together in a resonant cluster.


    I looked at my audience in a daze, only half-comprehending. Wild eyes met my own from all over. Within them, I saw the same relief that was overwhelming my body. The same gratefulness for the end of the rain. The same desire to push for another day.


    Every person in the crowd was dressed differently. House colors reigned supreme as everyone declared their side subconsciously. Even drenched to the bone with water, I could make out distinct, flowing patterns in their garments No doubt many had engaged in brutal politics with each other; ripping and tearing at each other¡¯s livelihoods like rabid dogs.


    Yet their hearts beat as one with the bedraggled East Fiachrans to the side. For this barest moment, the rich and the poor felt the same thumping adrenaline coursing through their bodies. The highest and the lowest had a moment of convergence.


    They understood each other, if just for a moment. Speaking a language that transcended words.


    I raised my arms higher, holding my violin to the sky like an offering to the gods. The applause reached a crescendo, thundering beyond the passing storm.


    ¡ª


    Energy pulsed through my veins as a flex of the ambient fire mana around me warmed the atmosphere enough to ward away the chill that had set into my bones. The show was over.


    I tended to my violin with the utmost care, quietly undecided about whether it was a good idea to play in the rain or not. I squinted as I inspected the aether beast hairs. The rosin is gone, of course. But considering this piece is made of magical material and the wood is crafted of clarwood, it isn¡¯t ruined. I won¡¯t have to restring it, but I will have to reapply rosin. That will be a pain. But it¡¯s a far better outcome than destruction.


    There was a small crowd waiting around me, more than a dozen anxious feet squelching in the wet ground of the Fiachran outskirts. The Blooded families seemed extremely apprehensive about asking their questions.


    And I knew they had many. Their curiosity churned the mana in a way perceptible only to me. But another emotion was interlaced with that overwhelming one.


    A hint of fear wormed its way through their emotions. And that was due to a very specific man lounging nearby.


    Sevren Denoir carved an apple with Promise a few feet away from me, silently declaring his support. He crossed his legs leisurely as his heels rested on another chair. The symbol of Highblood Denoir stood out prominently on his chest, and his signet ring flashed in the light.


    I¡¯m the heir to Highblood Denoir, all of that declared. And I¡¯m standing beside Toren Daen.


    Of all the things these nobles were expecting when approaching me, it was likely not the tacit backing of Highblood Denoir. It was a lot like approaching a local band after a show and coming face-to-face with Winston Churchill. Or maybe a Saudi Arabian prince.


    But these people¡¯s curiosity was strong enough that they were willing to clash with that indecision.


    I saw a man in the crowd begin to push forward. Unlike the others, he wasn¡¯t drenched to the bone with water. From the umbrella he carried under the crook of his arm, I suspected I knew why. Stamped across his chest was a symbol that looked like an old Greek helmet, although it wasn¡¯t as bright bronze as one might¡¯ve expected. It was a dark, dusky color.


    The man¡¯s hair was a similar dark gray, slicked back and shaved at the sides. He parted the crowd imperiously, his broad chin held high among the other nobles here.


    From how they let him pass, I knew immediately he was of a higher standing than most present.


    I cautiously stowed my violin away, promising myself I¡¯d tend to it later. I hadn¡¯t met this man before and I needed my mind in a place of politics.


    ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± he said, bowing slightly as he approached. ¡°My name is Renton of Highblood Morthelm. I¡¯m pleased to make your acquaintance. I must congratulate you on a spectacular show.¡±


    He held a calloused hand out to me, something calculating in his orange-flecked eyes. I took it casually, shaking respectfully.


    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, Lord Morthelm.¡±


    I felt his grip strengthen subtly, the muscles in his hand tightening with mana-enhanced force. I matched it with a slight smirk before he took his hand away, the barest note of discomfort on the broad man¡¯s face. There were slight red imprints where my fingers had clasped his meaty ones.


    ¡°And you¡¯ll find that there¡¯s more to magic than you think. My music is just one of those,¡± I added.


    Try to play those kinds of strength games with me, Lord Morthelm, and you¡¯ll get burned. You¡¯re going to have to work this from a unique angle. One you¡¯ve never tried before, I thought, slightly amused.


    ¡°I recognize your Blood name from somewhere,¡± I said, tilting my head. Sevren watched the exchange with a cool, teal gaze like a hawk, quietly biting into his apple slice. ¡°But it''s slipping my mind.¡±


    Lord Morthelm chuckled slightly. He had a powerful build that rumbled with even this slight laugh. ¡°Many, many years ago, my predecessors were allied with Named Blood Daen. We were close as Blood.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°At least until your unfortunate fall from grace. But things seemed to have changed,¡± he continued, giving me a knowing nod. ¡°Blood Joan no longer exists.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork bird drifted in from the skies, circling several times before landing on my shoulder. It puffed a burst of purplish-orange mist, whirred and clicked a few times, then settled in like a lifelike sculpture nesting down.


    ¡°They are on their way,¡± my bond conveyed. ¡°Only a minute or two until their group reaches us.¡±


    Thanks, I thought to my companion. The asuran shade had an advantage in reconnaissance that outstripped anything I could normally do. I¡¯d used that to my advantage and asked her to keep an eye out for a few select people. After what the Jasper man had done earlier today, I was expecting interference.


    How much of that does she actually control? I wondered. It¡¯s so incredibly lifelike. Even the little mannerisms and ticks are indistinguishable from a real bird. It''s very unlike an actual puppet.


    ¡°You may have left the physical stage, Toren,¡± Aurora whispered into my mind, ¡°But this is a performance as any other. Keep that in mind.¡± S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I will, I acknowledged. I doubted Lord Morthelm¡¯s desires were as clear-cut as wishing to reform old alliances. Everything was about politics once you went high enough.


    The middle-aged highblood looked at the settling clockwork bird on my shoulder with intrigue. Then the steampunk sparrow turned its eyes¨Ceach like a turbulent sun¨Con him. I saw him gulp imperceptibly, then intentionally focus back on me.


    ¡°Blood Joan didn¡¯t vanish,¡± I said lightly, a slight smile on my face. ¡°They were torn out, root and stem.¡± A ripple went through the crowd around us, but I shook my head. ¡°But I¡¯d be more than happy to work with your enterprises again. At least on my own terms.¡±


    The man chuckled again, pointedly avoiding the scalding stare of Aurora¡¯s relic. ¡°Of course, Lord Daen. It¡¯s only proper that¨C¡±


    He was interrupted as at least a dozen drenched nobles bullied their way through, their mana flaring in an intimidating display. Sevren slowly stood, a frown on his face as the group got closer. For the barest of instants, Renton Morthelm looked indecisive. He seemed to be considering whether or not to blend back into the crowd or stand by my side. He only hesitated for a moment, however, and the broad highblood shifted to face the oncoming mages instead of leaving.


    I portrayed a stern face outwardly, but on the inside, I was grinning. About time you reached us, I thought.

 Chapter 120: What Makes One Dangerous

    Toren Daen


    Sevren slowly uncrossed his legs, tossing his apple core behind him. He flourished Promise, the red-patterned dagger flashing before he sheathed it at his side. He moved near my side in a gesture of silent support.


    I saw the cause of the ruckus in a few seconds. A squadron of mages bullied their way to the front of my surroundings, their faces set with iron.


    They stopped as they finally saw me.


    I recognized a few of the families confronting me. Blood Jasper, Farriver, and Ilason¡¯s sigils stood proudly on puffed-out chests, along with a few I didn¡¯t recognize.


    I scanned the men at the forefront. They¡¯d worked with the Joans a few months back using their warehouses to store blithe.


    And the Rats and I had burned their supply depots to the ground. The man with slicked-back hair sneered at me silently, but that sneer quickly turned to something more indecisive as he locked eyes with Sevren Denoir. The other mages were similarly uncertain upon witnessing the Denoir heir. ¡°Lord Denoir,¡± the Jasper man said, bowing slightly. ¡°We were just here to confront this mage for breaking the law. If you would be so kind to assist us¡­¡±


    They didn¡¯t expect the heir to Highblood Denoir to be here, I thought. Then just like what I¡¯m planning, it¡¯s become a spur-of-the-moment action. By actually managing to play my music, I probably disrupted whatever plan they had in place.


    Sevren¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°I doubt my friend Toren broke any laws,¡± he said, annunciating the word friend. ¡°But if you want to levy accusations, go ahead. I¡¯ll listen.¡±


    The air churned with sudden apprehension. The mages were getting cold feet at Sevren¡¯s subtle declaration of support. The Jasper man glanced toward me, a burning hatred in his eyes. But also a note of uncertainty.


    ¡°They can¡¯t be allowed to hesitate,¡± Aurora said. ¡°Should they retreat, they¡¯ll form a more comprehensive plan for another confrontation. Spur them onward. Make them reckless.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°I think I recognize that symbol on your chest,¡± I said, looking at the Jasper man quizzically. I pretended to rack my brain. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re of Blood Jasper, yes?¡± I asked. ¡°I remember seeing your symbol on a warehouse.¡±


    The man¡¯s nostrils flared as his apprehension swirled down the drain. ¡°Toren Daen,¡± he said imperiously. ¡°You are going to accompany us to the Supervisory Center and confess to your crimes.¡±


    I got ready to speak, but Lord Morthelm interjected. ¡°And what crimes would those be?¡± he asked, shifting so he was slightly in front of me. ¡°You cannot make accusations without due cause.¡±


    ¡°Lord Daen has violated the Emotional Spellform Act of 1654,¡± the Jasper man snapped, clearly irritated that I hadn¡¯t made a move to concede. ¡°Manipulating the emotions of the masses without signing a waiver is illegal. And how many hundreds have been subjected to this?¡±


    Many of the people watching the confrontation from afar mumbled nervously. As far as they were aware, I had broken some sort of law. But I was dismayed by the flash of greed in the eyes of not a few.


    Lord Renton laid a firm hand on my shoulder, like a father does with their son to hold him back. ¡°That may be unwise to press for so openly, Lord Jasper,¡± the broad highlord said. ¡°Considering you would be matching lawyers with those of Bloodstone Elixirs and Highblood Denoir.¡± He gave me a covert, conniving smile. ¡°And perhaps those of Highblood Morthelm as well, depending on how the wind blows.¡±


    ¡°I see his angle,¡± Aurora said, her melodic voice simmering. ¡°He thinks you naive. Impressionable.¡±


    ¡°Then we will have all the financial compensation we shall need for the wrong you have done us,¡± the Jasper man rasped. ¡°Bloodstone Elixirs and Highblood Denoir have more than enough funds to address this violation. The High Hall would love this case.¡±


    More greed simmered through the crowd. My shoulders slumped as I closed my eyes. From the victorious look I¡¯d seen on the Jasper man¡¯s face, he clearly thought I was giving into his demands.


    But that wasn¡¯t why disappointment thrummed through my veins. Some naive part of me though that in the aftermath of all of this, every highblood and lowborn unblooded would have common ground to stand on. Yet I hadn¡¯t made a bridge as I¡¯d hoped. I¡¯d simply laid the first brick. I needed mortar to seal that impression.


    A single song will not change centuries of ingrained habits, I thought, feeling how more and more people seemed to be drifting toward the Jasper contingent. Their greed gripped the air like sewage. If this man was right, then the payout they¡¯d get from suing me and Bloodstone Elixirs would be immense. It was profit before empathy.


    I shrugged off Highlord Renton¡¯s hand, opening my eyes again. I¡¯d spoken to these people in one language they understood: music. But if I wanted to change things, I still needed to speak the language they were the most familiar with.


    I couldn¡¯t keep being so merciful. I couldn¡¯t simply hope for the best in everyone.


    Pormin Jasper


    I watched as the arrogant teen¡¯s shoulders slumped, an aura of defeat washing through him. Around me, the crowd was getting boisterous. Quiet mumbles of possible payouts, opportunities to press legal action, and more bubbled like a viscous sea.


    That¡¯s right, I thought, grinning widely. You thought you could just waltz in with your little gang and destroy my operations? Attack my reputation? There are consequences in this world, boy, and you¡¯re going to lament this day.


    I would admit that I¡¯d been impressed by the display the Daen boy had put on on that stage. He¡¯d somehow managed to play his instrument despite my attempted sabotage, leaving our plans in disarray. For weeks, my companions and I had spread rumors among the noble circles of Fiachra. This was the mage who destroyed Blood Joan without any sort of legal backlash. This was the man who invaded our stable structure.


    Someone else had been spreading their own rumors just as fast. I suspected it was Bloodstone Elixirs, but upon seeing the infamous Sevren Denoir, I had to reprise my suspicions.


    My allies and I had quickly scrambled to make this move a reality in the aftermath of the boy¡¯s little music stunt. But for all the difficulty I¡¯d experienced in trying to sabotage this event beforehand, it had been so remarkably easy to figure out how in the aftermath.


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    He shouldn¡¯t have pulled on our emotions, I thought. I remembered the phantom terror he¡¯d made me feel. I shivered imperceptibly as my boots squelched on the wet ground beneath me. He shouldn¡¯t have made me into a coward.


    Fear wasn¡¯t for men such as me. That, above all else, was what made me vow to break this arrogant brat.


    It was just a storm, I thought. There was nothing more to it. Nothing greater at play at all. That fear wasn¡¯t mine.


    The boy looked at me with those bright, orange pupils. His shoulders were still deflated, his posture weak. But something in those eyes made me hesitate.


    What am I worried about? I chastised myself. He¡¯s clearly beaten.


    I stepped forward, reaching out a hand to grab the errant brat. But the mechanical bird on his shoulder hissed lowly, emitting the sound of scraping metal. I looked at it, and then felt sweat trickle down my spine. Those eyes¡­


    I¡¯d thought it was a little toy. An old clockwork instrument for children. After all, Toren Daen was only seventeen years old, still a child trying to play among his betters. But that construction didn¡¯t look like a toy anymore. Suddenly, those razor-like wings seemed far sharper than a blade. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I never manipulated your emotions,¡± the boy said tiredly. Highlord Morthelm looked ready to interject, but the strange artificed raven on the Daen¡¯s shoulder looked at him with the gaze of a predator. He choked off. ¡°Even if you were to take me to court, your inquiries would fail.¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°Your lies won¡¯t help you here,¡± I said. ¡°You can save them for the High Hall.¡±


    The boy straightened, glancing at the sky for a time. ¡°When you listen to poetry and you feel emotion from what is spoken, is that ¡®emotional manipulation?¡¯¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Don¡¯t think you can talk our way¨C¡±


    ¡°Answer me,¡± the boy said. His voice was tired, but there was a sort of weight to it. I gulped, something imperceptible cresting the air. I looked to the side, noting the reactions of my companions. ¡°Is it?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I spat. ¡°And¨C¡±


    ¡°And when you see the face of a crying boy,¡± the boy continued, cutting off my words. I felt myself flush in anger at being interrupted, but he didn¡¯t seem to care. ¡°Do you not remember what it was like to weep as a child yourself?¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, that analogy doesn¡¯t quite work. You seem the type to hit a child for crying.¡±


    Something was wrong here. I could almost taste it. But no matter what explanation popped into my head, I couldn¡¯t find a reason for my fear. Except one.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing it again,¡± I accused, taking a step backward. ¡°You¡¯re forcing emotions into our heads. Trying to manipulate us.¡± Around me, my compatriots were similarly unsettled. I steeled myself, then pulled out one of my trump cards. ¡°Your trial will be even swifter after this. I am sure those from your old clinic will testify on our behalf, too, should you continue. They¡¯ll see the reason behind our cause,¡± I said slyly.


    There were very few connections Toren Daen still had. But with a bit of digging, it wasn¡¯t hard to discover his ties to the East Fiachran Healer¡¯s Guild. He was attached to that place.


    It was a weakness.


    The Daen heir tilted his head as he slowly loped forward. ¡°I¡¯ll admit something to you, Lord Jasper,¡± he said, low and menacing. ¡°You are feeling the effects of my intent. Just as you did during the show. You¡¯re small-minded, Jasper. Part of you realizes that you¡¯ve fucked up. The instinctual part of you that can detect intent knows your error. The part that can sympathize with the emotions of others.¡±


    Intent? I thought, What does he mean? Like killing intent?


    Of course, mages could affect the ambient mana with their emotions. But¨C


    The air drew itself from my lungs as an overwhelming pressure assaulted me on all sides. My words became less than a wheeze as I crashed to my knees, my neat, silken attire dirtied by mud. It felt as if the world itself was rejecting me; deeming me unfit. Unworthy.


    I whimpered as my face hit the muddy ground, gasping for breath like a dry fish. My thoughts sputtered out as this force clawed at my insides, taking a piece of my sanity with every second. I couldn¡¯t think. Couldn¡¯t breathe. Needed to escape.


    What in the High Sovereign¡¯s name¨C


    The Daen boy knelt by my struggling form, looking at my companions behind me. They were all in similar states. ¡°When I press my killing intent into you, Jasper, am I emotionally manipulating you?¡±


    I whimpered, trying to curl into a ball. But my arms didn¡¯t work. My legs refused to twitch. I wanted to cry out for help. Ask for anyone to save me from this suffocating terror.


    ¡°When you feel the weight of my mana; understand the force that I have kept leashed all this time, am I forcing you to feel this fear? Or is it the natural result of facing something you can¡¯t hope to overcome? Of a man staring at an oncoming tsunami, recognizing in his heart of hearts that nothing he creates can withstand its approach? Do you punish a tsunami, Jasper?¡±


    He looked down at me. I wanted to close my eyes. To hide away in my late mother¡¯s dress. But his orange eyes shined, demanding my attention. They drank in my soul like mist. ¡°I¡¯m not wealthy like you are,¡± he said slowly, like he was talking to a child. ¡°I don¡¯t have an estate. I don¡¯t have businesses to maintain. And I don¡¯t have assets for you to seize.¡± He cocked his head. Distantly, I was aware that the entirety of the small plaza had gone silent, everyone watching this with choked attention. With rapturous fear. ¡°And you might think this a weakness. I don¡¯t have the resources of Blood Jasper. I can¡¯t call a dozen people to harass and intimidate others like Blood Farriver. And unlike Blood Ilason, I can¡¯t distribute drugs from a warehouse. That sounds like a weakness, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    The boy tapped his fingers on his bent knee, savoring my terror. I wanted to tell him. That I was wrong. That he was right. That I was sorry. Anything so that he would just let me go. But all I could do was whimper as the ever-present force stole the warmth from my blood.


    I saw the wretched form of Mandra Ilason, unconscious on the ground not far from me. And then Lord Farriver was openly weeping.


    Is that what I look like? I asked myself.


    The boy slowly turned to look at everyone present. ¡°But I encourage you to think about it differently. When a man doesn¡¯t have finances to worry over, doesn¡¯t have a powerbase to balance, doesn¡¯t have a livelihood to maintain? He becomes something different.¡± The boy¨Cno, the monster¨Ctraced a hand over the symbol of Blood Daen on his breast. ¡°He becomes someone with nothing else to lose.¡±


    The thing lowered its head to whisper in my ear. ¡°Blood Joan killed my brother,¡± he said quietly. Softly, as if trying to restrain his breath from snuffing out a candle. ¡°They removed the person I cared most for in this world. And now they¡¯re ash. Should you touch those close to me, you should pray to your High Sovereign that you can run faster than I can chase you.¡±


    He patted my shoulder forcefully, almost as if we were friends. I felt the bones in my torso creak and groan just from the touch. I felt a spot of warmth seep down between my legs. ¡°But we both know Agrona Vritra rewards strength, not weakness. Your gods won¡¯t save you from me. So if you want to try and threaten those I care for,¡± he said, standing up, ¡°Know that I¡¯ve given my warning.¡±


    The world around me exhaled a long, suffering breath. The tar lashing my body to the ground relented, melting away to simple water once more. Suddenly, I could move again. I thrashed like a fish out of water, scrambling to my feet. I looked around wildly, uncaring of the mud caking my once fine suit. My companions similarly wrenched themselves upward, but that didn¡¯t matter. I spun, trying to find a way out.


    So many eyes. Focused on me. Focused on the monster. I cried out, engaging my mana. Wind wrapped around my legs as I pushed my way through the crowd, knocking several people over. Their disgusted gazes and unnerved expressions washed over me. None of them felt it. None of them knew.


    Lord Toren Daen was a monster. He pretended to be a boy. But whatever was using his skin was stringing them along like puppets. Playing at being a musician.


    I crashed into the dirt again as I finally exited the stadium. Damn them all, I thought. Those orange eyes flashed in my vision again. If they want to grace a demon, let them!


    I scrambled back to my feet and then rushed back toward my home. Toward Fiachra. Away from that monster.

 Chapter 121: The Next Step

    Toren Daen


    I watched the Jasper man scramble away, splashing mud on a score of people as he engaged some sort of rune. They shied away, crying out in shock and disgust as mud added onto their already water-drenched forms. Gradually, the other mages I¡¯d forced to the ground with my killing intent pulled themselves up, and in varying states of disarray followed after their broken leader.


    I inhaled deeply through my nose. I could almost smell the intent sifting through the ambient mana like a seeking serpent. The mages around me were impressed by my threat toward Blood Jasper.


    Their fear has increased in equal measure with their curiosity, I thought with irritation. I turned around, ignoring the stares filled with alarm and interest. None had expected me to be as powerful as I was. None had suspected my strength to be as vaunted as it was. Each mage I made eye contact with shied back slightly.


    I¡¯m still releasing a bit of my intent into the air, I realized a bit too late. And as I pointed out to the Jasper man, part of them can subconsciously sense it.


    I may have been more forceful with my display than I originally intended. The Jasper man threatening the clinic had touched a nerve.


    ¡°And you gave a hint at the source of your strange musical ability,¡± Aurora said. ¡°They will be wondering how truthful you were.¡±


    I hated what I¡¯d just done. Before my concert, a part of me hoped that all it would take was my unique music to influence these people. But I couldn¡¯t have been more wrong. The language they knew the best was strength. Brute force were their letters and fists their words. Sure, I¡¯d shown them something unique. But in the moment, it was fleeting.


    So I spoke their language. I flexed my magical muscles in front of someone who was far weaker than I; forcing him into submission with might rather than mind.


    ¡°It is a push and pull,¡± Aurora said. She could feel my disappointment. My quiet anger. ¡°A carrot and a stick. This is true for all things. There is always a positive and a negative that must be engaged with.¡± She paused. ¡°Though there is truth in your own worry. That you may become what you hope to eliminate.¡±


    Highlord Renton Morthelm was staring at the spot on the ground where the mages seeking to confront me had collapsed. His eyes were shadowed, but the hand he was gripping his umbrella with was white from his tightened grip.


    As I stood beside him, facing my tent, I felt I had more to say. ¡°I¡¯m not so easily manipulated,¡± I said. My voice came out tired. Strained. ¡°I see more than you think, Lord Morthelm. I told you earlier I¡¯d be happy to work with your enterprises again should it be on my terms. And I meant on my terms.¡±


    He finally looked at me. While many of the others around held anxiety and interest openly, I recognized something deeper in this older man¡¯s face. I suspected he¡¯d been playing this game of politics for a longer time than most. He glanced at Lady Dawn¡¯s clockwork bird one more time, then focused on me.


    I could tell he recognized the ploy in what had just happened. He knew, at least to a degree, that I¡¯d baited those men into confronting me.


    ¡°Noted, Lord Daen,¡± he said slowly. ¡°It appears I¡¯ve disrespected you in a way I did not anticipate.¡±


    Masked words for, ¡°I would¡¯ve been happy to manipulate you if it weren¡¯t difficult to do so,¡± I thought with an internal sneer.


    Sevren was not-so-covertly glaring at the highlord.


    ¡°He speaks the truth to you, Highlord Morthelm,¡± an even yet powerful voice said. A familiar voice. ¡°One needs greater skill if they wish to manipulate Lord Daen in any manner. I¡¯ve had to change my own methods in ways I never expected.¡±


    I felt a smirk split my face as I turned toward the voice. The crowd parted once more for another intruder. Renea Shorn wore her usual dark attire, though the sleeves of this dress were looser than her normal black ensemble. A mantle of dark fur wrapped around her pale neck, protecting her from the chill. Over her head, she held a shadowed parasol. It was dripping with water.


    The pale-skinned owner of Bloodstone Elixirs finally stood before me. I looked at her parasol quizzically. In return, she raised a brow at me as if to say, ¡°You expected me to let myself get rained on?¡±


    ¡°Your skills are beyond what I expected, Lord Daen,¡± Renea said, nodding slightly in respect. She gave both Lord Morthelm and Sevren a slight bow, sticking to protocol. ¡°I believe you¡¯ve more than kept your end of our bargain.¡±


    She did watch my show, I thought with a hint of happiness. I thought she¡¯d been avoiding me since I went against her advice and tracked down the Doctrination¡¯s old temple in Nirmala.


    It was a little nibbling thought in the back of my mind that the one who had made all of this possible didn¡¯t attend. But it appeared she had, even if I hadn¡¯t sensed or seen her in the crowd.


    I opened my mouth to reply, but I was cut off by something else.


    Aurora¡¯s puppet was raising its bladed wings, puffing itself out in a display. It glared burning suns at Lady Shorn, hissing quietly. A sound like scraping knives slowly rattled outward.


    And my bond¡¯s own emotions¡­ She was on guard. Her hackles were raised toward one, singular person.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said sharply into my mind, ¡°that woman isn¡¯t what she seems. She is dangerous. I cannot say why, but you need to avoid her.¡±


    I remembered the instinctual anxiety that suffused me when I first met Renea Shorn. That subconscious understanding that I was facing a predator; one who outclassed me in experience, grit, and intelligence as it slowly stalked toward my blind spot.


    But for Aurora to feel the same sensation, I thought, staring at the bird on my shoulder uncertainly. Renea matched the steampunk sparrow¡¯s sunset gaze. For the first time since I¡¯d met the austere woman, she seemed a touch uncertain. Her face slowly morphed from its characteristic impassivity, a frown growing on her face as the seconds passed.


    It was equal parts one of displeasure and another of confusion.


    Suddenly, the reality of the item on my shoulder set back in. It was a djinni relic; taken straight from the Relictombs. Sevren Denoir had assured me that inquirers couldn¡¯t detect it as a relic any longer after some sort of initial aetheric signature washed away over time, but that meant nothing to someone who was invested in actually determined to try and discover the clockwork raven¡¯s inner workings.


    Aurora, I said with a bit of internal hastiness, You need to be careful. At least for now. Renea is intelligent enough to be suspicious of your appearance.


    Reading the flow of my thoughts, Aurora reluctantly settled the construct on my shoulder. Orange and purple light misted through gaps in its brass plating as it pointedly ignored the owner of Bloodstone Elixirs.


    Renea turned to me instead, that frown still plastered on her face. ¡°You did not tell me you gained a new¡­¡± She glanced at the bird again. The bronzish feathers ruffled in irritation as Aurora forcefully controlled herself. ¡°Companion? I cannot sense any mana from its structure. How does it work?¡±


    Think fast, Toren, I told myself. The crowd still spectated this interaction with fervent attention. None seemed primed to step forward, but I was extremely aware of the importance of my words.


    ¡°I truthfully don¡¯t understand how it works,¡± I said, laying a hand on the puppet¡¯s brass exterior. ¡°This automaton was gifted to me by my friend Sevren Denoir,¡± I said, half addressing Renea and half addressing the crowd. ¡°He would know better than I, but I doubt he would be forthcoming.¡± Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I met Sevren¡¯s eyes for a moment. Just as when we fought together, we had a sort of mutual understanding of one another. A push and pull that belied our intentions. I need to deflect the focus from me, I tried to convey. None here would dare press a highblood heir. I need that protection.


    His teal eyes darkened for an instant. I thought he understood.


    ¡°It¡¯s a prototype of something I¡¯ve been working on these past few months,¡± Sevren said casually. ¡°And I¡¯m afraid its inner workings are a trade secret, Lady Shorn. Though perhaps I should give it another look to see why it''s showing such¡­ aggravation.¡±


    Something inscrutable passed over Renea¡¯s face as Sevren spoke. I thought I was close to grasping it, but it flitted away too quickly. ¡°Intriguing, Lord Denoir,¡± she said. ¡°If you are ever willing to tell me about your craft, Bloodstone Elixirs would be more than happy to assist.¡±


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°My work is my own,¡± Sevren said. His tone was almost rude. ¡°And for those of my close friends.¡±


    Translation: you are not my friend. I might have overestimated Sevren¡¯s political skills.


    I exhaled softly, but thankfully Renea seemed more amused than affronted. ¡°As you wish, Lord Denoir,¡± she said.


    I felt my nerves settle lightly. Potential crisis averted, at least for the time being.


    Renea gave me a piercing look before turning to the crowd. ¡°The show has been over for quite some time,¡± she said airily. ¡°If you wish further inquiries, Bloodstone Elixirs would be happy to answer any questions you have. At a later time.¡±


    The crowd seemed to snap out of their reverie. They gradually dispersed under Renea Shorn¡¯s iron gaze. The sound of boots squelching in mud filled my ears as nobility reluctantly left the arena.


    Behind the nobility, I saw the meager contingent of East Fiachrans who had managed to attend. Greahd, Wade, Hofal, and a dozen others milled about uncertainly. I saw Benny tugging on his mother¡¯s leg, his hand-which had fingers lost to frostbite¨Cclung tightly to her roughspun skirt. I locked eyes with Naereni in the crowd. I gave her a slow nod, which she returned.


    Through it all, Renton Morthelm watched with a complex expression on his face. Naereni saw his attention and gave him a predatory grin; one that stretched nearly from ear to ear. Several people passed in front of her, masking the mage from view. Once they were by, the Young Rat was gone.


    It would seem she was picking up more habits from Karsien.


    ¡°What are you planning, Lord Daen?¡± Lord Morthelm asked, his attention still focused on where Naereni used to be. Unlike before, his tone was far more respectful. It was laced with wariness.


    I thought of all I hoped to accomplish with this endeavor. To change the minds of so many men toward the unadorned. To show their common ground through emotion and thought.


    I planned to tear down the High Sovereign¡¯s discrimination against non-mages, one brick at a time, while using those bricks to build a bridge that would span a chasm not nearly as wide as others thought.


    ¡°If I told you,¡± I said, ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯d believe me.¡±


    ¡ª


    I sat in an upscale cafe in Fiachra¡¯s northern sector, quietly sipping at my coffee.


    Alacrya still didn¡¯t have the wonderful bean beverage, of course. But I¡¯d managed a workaround.


    I¡¯d found a can of coffee grounds in the town zone during my last visit. And if I brewed a large batch of coffee before this and sipped away at it now, who would judge?


    Renea Shorn, apparently. She watched my drink critically from across the table, seeming to disapprove innately. Her own steaming drink was cupped in her hands.


    Sevren Denoir sat at my side, but he was slumped against the back of the booth. He looked a lot more tired than I expected. All in all, it was a strange mirror of my first meeting with Renea Shorn. Though there was now a clockwork raven perched on my shoulder.


    ¡°I do not recognize the drink you indulge in,¡± the stern, pale-skinned woman finally said. Internally, I grinned. I had a feeling my silence on the matter would eventually irritate her enough to actually speak, and it seemed I was right. ¡°I usually recognize most drinks served at these establishments by scent alone. And yours is¡­ more bold than what I am used to.¡±


    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose. The coffee in my mug was black; without sweetener or cream. The rich, aromatic scent misted from the edge of the liquid with smokey undertones. It intermingled with the scent of Lady Shorn¡¯s perfume, the familiar floral scent tickling my nostrils.


    I¡¯d been strung as tight as my violin bow in the aftermath of my confrontation with the Jasper man. After the reality of what I¡¯d had to do to truly bring about my plans settled in.


    But I found the simple aroma of my coffee¨Cand the sweet balm of Renea¡¯s perfume¨Cboth served to loosen my tensed muscles.


    ¡°It¡¯s called coffee,¡± I said, taking a sip. It was bitter and earthy, but the acquired taste was something that grounded me in the moment. ¡°It¡¯s somewhat similar to tea, but you steep ground-up beans instead of leaves.¡±


    I opened my eyes after a moment, feeling myself relax slightly. Lady Shorn raised a hand. I stared at it blankly for a moment.


    ¡°You took liberties with my own beverage the last time we met,¡± she said seriously. ¡°You¡¯re going to compensate me.¡±


    It took me longer than I would¡¯ve liked to admit to figure out what she was referencing. I¡¯d heated her tea for her, taken a sip, then handed it back. She¡¯d appeared amused by the rather overt gesture.


    I felt blood rising in my cheeks, but with an effort of iron will, I shoved that reaction down. Instead, I floated my own cup over to her with a careful application of my telekinesis. She took it in her lithe fingers with grace, swirling it lightly. She peered into the dark depths of the drink before taking a sip.


    I very pointedly ignored the raven puppet¡¯s stare from the side. And Sevren¡¯s deadpan disappointment.


    Renea¡¯s dark brow furrowed, but that was the only indication of her thoughts on the beverage. ¡°I must admit, Lord Daen,¡± she started slowly, ¡°this drink is¡­ unique.¡±


    I chuckled lightly, then latched back onto it with my telekinetic emblem, settling the mug back into my hands. ¡°It¡¯s an acquired taste,¡± I said honestly. I took another sip myself. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to enjoy it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it is,¡± she acceded. She looked at me through her shadowed hair. ¡°How do you feel in the wake of your performance today?¡±


    I let my head fall back against the lush cushions of the cafe booth. It was a more upscale location than I¡¯d been in before. At least this time, my clothing matched the locale. I traced the engraved patterns on the ceiling with my eyes. ¡°It was more exhausting than I expected,¡± I said honestly.


    ¡°The show itself,¡± Renea asked, ¡°Or the crowd?¡±


    I felt my hand clenching around the handle of my mug. I had to forcefully let it relax. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I really expected,¡± I said a bit morosely. ¡°But things aren¡¯t going to change after a single song.¡±


    Renea sipped at her tea. Her demeanor changed slightly as she visibly considered her response. As my own exhaustion bled through my words, the dark-haired woman let the slight edge of playfulness seep out of our conversation. I didn¡¯t have the mental or emotional energy to invest myself in our familiar back-and-forth flirtations.


    ¡°The first setback is always the most wrenching,¡± she said with a hint of quiet. ¡°When one pushes for something so large; aiming for a piecewise construction rather than one, powerful blow, there can be innumerable unforeseen circumstances along the way. No person¨Cmage or not¨Ccan foresee the future.¡± She tilted her head slightly. ¡°You learn very quickly, Lord Daen. To roll with the punches thrown at you is a skill not so common.¡±


    I had a great teacher, I affirmed internally. I wasn¡¯t sure there was anyone I knew who had faced more than Aurora and made it through the other side.


    ¡°Highbloods will always be creatures of politics,¡± Sevren interjected with a quiet sneer. ¡°In everything they do, it¡¯s always a balance of profit and loss. You can try all you want, Toren, but this is more than a punch you can roll with.¡± He pulled himself out of the booth, locking eyes with me briefly. ¡°I¡¯ll be waiting outside. I need some air.¡±


    The white-haired young man trudged toward the exit, a hunch to his shoulders I¡¯d just begun to unravel from my own.


    He hates highblood politics, I thought. He thinks them petty machinations of the High Sovereign. Like an experiment.


    Aurora, who had kept eerily quiet through this entire exchange, chose that moment to interject across my mind. ¡°And he is not wrong, Toren. Never, ever forget that.¡±


    Renea watched him go with an impassive look.


    I sighed. ¡°My friend hasn¡¯t had the best interactions with highbloods,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Politics are never fun. And I¡¯ve met too many people myself who revel in the power one can get from having a high station.¡±


    ¡°Those who enjoy the game are the ones you must fear the most,¡± the dark-haired woman replied. ¡°For they are motivated not just by the need to assure their wellbeing, but also the thrill of the chase. The triumph of minds.¡±


    The table was quiet for a brief time. ¡°And do you enjoy the game?¡± I asked pointedly.


    I immediately felt I had made some sort of mistake. Pushed too far. Or prodded something raw. Renea set her tea down slowly. Her spotless jaw worked for a moment, something akin to muted surprise in her dark onyx eyes.


    ¡°I find myself too lax around you, Lord Daen,¡± she eventually said, her voice somewhat strained. ¡°I say more than I should.¡±


    I stared at the steam rising off Renea¡¯s tea, trying to think of something to say.


    ¡°You said I need to roll with the punches,¡± I eventually decided on. Anything to shift the topic away from this wound. ¡°Where do you think I should start? What next?¡±


    Renea was quiet for a long moment. ¡°There is a venue available in a few weeks or so,¡± she said at last. I felt my shoulders relax as she finally spoke once again. ¡°One of my inter-Dominion contacts has recently completed the construction of a large, public theater in their middle-class areas. They¡¯ve asked me several times for financial support and are thus indebted to me. For its opening act, I could think of no better performance than yours.¡±


    I hummed. ¡°That sounds nearly perfect,¡± I admitted. From how she presented it, this venue seemed exactly what I was looking for. The middle class of Alacrya¨Cwhile headed primarily by mages¨Cstill had substantial numbers of unadorned. It would be a good mixing ground for mages and non-mages. I started to raise my coffee to my lips. ¡°And where is this theater?¡±


    ¡°In Aensgar.¡±


    My hand halted in its tracks, my coffee splashing slightly. A drop managed to peek over the rim, and then slide down the edge of the mug. The dark dot slowly traveled down the microscopic rivets of the porcelain, before finally splashing to the table below.


    Aensgar. I¡¯d been planning to visit there soon regardless. After all, it was the closest access point to the Redwater. And at the headwaters of that river was Mardeth¡¯s current base.


    I met Lady Shorn¡¯s eyes, and I found I could not read them. There was a wall of ice in those pupils infinitely wide.


    I hesitantly set down my cup of coffee. How much does this woman know about my plans? About Mardeth? About my grudge against him?


    It seemed too perfect. It could be a coincidence, maybe. But in the short time I¡¯d interacted with this woman, I¡¯d learned that every action was deliberate. What was it she had said upon splitting that crowd not long ago?


    ¡°One needs greater skill if they wish to manipulate Lord Daen in any manner,¡± she¡¯d said. ¡°I¡¯ve had to change my own methods in ways I never expected.¡±


    The words Karsien told me when I¡¯d first received Oath and Promise bounced around in my head. ¡°She so smoothly achieved both of our desires,¡± he¡¯d snarled. The one time I¡¯d seen the Rat without his mask was when he told me about his interactions with this woman. It was seared into my memory nearly as deeply as Karsien¡¯s own burns. ¡°Do you understand the difficulty of that, Toren?¡±


    I shook my head, recognizing I had no valid reason to refuse. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    Inside my mind, Aurora seethed.

 Chapter 122: Pieces

    Toren Daen


    I left the cafe feeling a warmth in my stomach and a chill in my heart. I¡¯d worked out a time and date for my appearance in the newly built Crimson Pool Theater in central Aensgar with Renea, going over merchandising and plans for the event. After all, she still needed to make some kind of profit.


    I looked up at the sky as I left. It was still cloudy, and the stones under my feet were still wet from the storm. A nearby canal was rushing at a faster pace than usual as the system naturally flushed the excess water down its length. Whenever storms hit, the canals became far more dangerous.


    Sevren, who had been leaning on the doorway to the cafe, slowly walked beside me. I didn¡¯t say anything, still thinking about the way Renea had shifted me into place in Aensgar. How much did Lady Shorn know of Mardeth? And how planned was my little show in Vechor¡¯s central city?


    We walked in silence. I didn¡¯t know where I was going, exactly. I strolled aimlessly along the canals, watching the waters churn and rush.


    As I meandered toward the more business-oriented area of North Fiachra, I spotted a flat pane of pure mana projected in front of a storefront. A short, repeating few seconds of video played on it. As I neared it, I felt the artifact pushing words into my mind.


    ¡°A revolutionary display!¡± It said in an announcer¡¯s tone. ¡°Music through magic: Is Toren Daen Fiachra¡¯s next rising star?¡±


    The little pane of mana showed the aftermath of my concert not a few hours ago. I was holding my violin and bow to the side as water streamed off of me, my arms raised to the sky in offering. My burning pupils focused on the clouds instead of whoever had captured the video.


    It seemed Renea Shorn worked even faster than I anticipated. I hadn¡¯t even registered that someone had been recording my performance, but it made sense.


    I stared at it for a while, Sevren Denoir by my side. ¡°She works fast,¡± I said, crossing my arms.


    Sevren turned to me, giving me a pointed frown. ¡°You were a lot more¡­ familiar with Renea Shorn than the last time we met. Of all the people you could have chosen, why her?¡±


    He said it in good humor, but I caught the undercurrent of irritation that lurked beneath. Before I could respond, however, my bond spoke through her puppet. ¡°He neglected to inform me of that aspect of their relationship as well,¡± she said. And I could not parse her emotion over our bond. ¡°Indeed, he could have focused on any other woman.¡±


    I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my hands. Something about Renea Shorn had deeply rattled my bond, yet I did not understand what.


    I thought over my interactions with the dark-haired woman. Flashes of her floral perfume and deep, red lips were at the forefront of my memories. Her predatory smile as she sipped her tea.


    It was true that I¡¯d found many women attractive in Alacrya. Magic had a habit of accentuating the physical aspects of the body favorably, something that was easy to see here. Yet I¡¯d never made an effort to pursue anything romantic¨Cor anything more shallow than that, either¨Cwith any person in this world.


    I was able to pinpoint when our interactions shifted with relative ease. After our confrontation in the depths of Trelza¡¯s clinic, something had changed between us. I¡¯d found myself attracted to her care for even the lowest of people. I remembered how she¡¯d marched up to me as I accused her of indifference, her passion leaking through her cloaking artifact. So that I could taste its surety.


    How many other people truly recognize the value of even the smallest life? I thought, remembering how my hand interlocked with little Kori¡¯s. The blithe-tortured girl¡¯s soulful eyes branded themselves into my memory. How many others would be willing to try and save one small girl?


    Afterward, we¡¯d settled into a strange sort of playful dance. A back and forth that crested when we met in her headquarters in Aedelgard. But her willingness to still shift me like a striker on the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I should be justifying my taste in women to either of you,¡± I said with a note of irritation. ¡°It¡¯s perfectly understandable from my perspective.¡±


    Sevren huffed out, but Aurora¡¯s puppet form shivered in agitation.


    ¡°If you¡¯re so content with your taste in women,¡± Sevren said, ¡°What¡¯s got you so ruffled?¡±


    I tapped a finger on my arm, staring at that mirror image of myself in the recording artifact. My eyes were glazed over, looking to the sky with an expression of near-emptiness. The renewed sigil of Named Blood Daen stood out prominently on my chest.


    ¡°After we parted in the Relictombs, there was a lead I needed to track down.¡± I looked at Sevren from the side of my eyes. ¡°You know my ongoing quarrel with the Vicar of Plague? He¡¯s gone now. But he won¡¯t be forever. So I¡¯ve been tracing his path of experimentation and destruction.¡± I tilted my head, attuning myself to the surrounding heartfires. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to say anything where I¡¯ll be heard.¡±


    I looked up to the nearby rooftops. There weren¡¯t many people out in the aftermath of the storm, but I could certainly feel the mages spying on me. There were far more than ever before. I looked toward where I sensed them one by one, covertly flaring my killing intent. I¡¯d grown skilled enough to direct it in sparse, segmented sections. And that made the terror every spy felt far more personal.


    They scattered like locusts fleeing a field; little blurs jumping through the muggy air. I still felt tired.


    You defaulted on killing intent again, a part of myself chastised. How long until that¡¯s all you do to get what you want?


    It was just so easy to use that tool at my disposal. I found myself yearning for Renea¡¯s experience in speaking. She¡¯d been able to force Mardeth out of his powerbase with only words. No mana involved.


    Sevren watched all of this with the same tiredness I felt. He was no stranger to being followed himself, I knew.


    ¡°Lady Shorn set up my next show in Aensgar,¡± I said. ¡°In a mid-sized theater in their middle-class district. The owner just finished its construction and owes her a favor. So I¡¯m going to be the opening act.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for Sevren to put two and two together. ¡°And that¡¯s where you need to go to reach Mardeth,¡± he said quietly.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said truthfully. ¡°But it¡¯s where I need to start. And I had no good reason to refuse.¡±


    ¡°And Renea Shorn hates Mardeth as well, doesn¡¯t she?¡± Sevren asked, his face darkening.


    ¡°She does.¡±


    Sevren turned around, then kicked a rock with enough force to send it flying into the sky. His mana churned under the surface.


    ¡°That¡¯s what it''s always like, Toren,¡± he said bitterly. ¡°That¡¯s all they¡¯ll do. Manipulate and move you around the board. That¡¯s all they know. And all they¡¯ll ever know.¡±


    I felt surprised by Sevren¡¯s outburst. I was unnerved by the subtle manipulation Renea had performed, but the Denoir heir¡­ he was angry.


    ¡°And now you¡¯re going to be at the center. They¡¯re all going to try and move you around like a pawn. Like one of their little toys. I¡¯ve already drawn too much attention to you by being seen with you constantly.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting that,¡± I said quietly. ¡°With my plans for the future, clashes with the uppermost echelons of this continent are inevitable. And I have some people by my side who see me as more than just a piece.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°You won¡¯t change them, Toren. Even if you try.¡±


    The bitterness in his voice cut deep. I saw the truth of it there. Some part of the Denoir heir had already given up. I opened my mouth to reply, but someone in the nearby shadows pulsed with sudden energy. I turned, spotting Karsien¡¯s mist-wrapped form.


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    Sevren hadn¡¯t sensed the intrusion, but a tap on his shoulder got his attention to turn. Karsien maintained severe eye contact with me for a long moment. We need to talk, those eyes said. Now. Without a word, Karsien darted up the roof. I looked back at the Denoir heir.


    He nodded. ¡°Go,¡± he said, looking toward the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for you at the Ascender¡¯s Association. We can talk more then.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I made you a promise regarding aether,¡± I said quietly, preparing to leave. ¡°I will fulfill that.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s teal eyes were misty. ¡°That¡¯s what sets you apart from every highblood out there, even if you play at their politics. You mean what you say.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the face of the empty way he said it. Then I suppressed my mana signature and darted after the Rat.


    ¡ª


    I blurred out a window at high speeds, squinting my eyes against the wind buffeting my face. As I launched into the street, I thrust my arm out to the side, engaging my telekinetic emblem. The window frame I¡¯d come from flashed white as I held onto it mentally.


    I lurched sideways, the centrifugal force of my psychokinetic tether sending me down the street like a pursuing shadow. The plaster-like frame of the window crumbled from the force, splintering as I finally released it. My eyes were locked on a single target: a man garbed in mist that weaved through the area like a serpent.


    Karsien knew the streets better than I did. I was faster than him; more maneuverable with my telekinetic pushes and pulls. But he was less than a shadow as he darted across rooftops, through alleyways, and shifted through abandoned buildings like an eel wriggling through a tight gap.


    I grit my teeth, then slammed a push into the ground beneath me. The poor excuse for concrete cracked as I zipped toward Karsien¡¯s form.


    The Rat weaved into an abandoned building, pulling the door shut behind him with a crash.


    I worked my jaw. At the speed I was going, slamming into that building¨Cwhich already looked so decrepit¨Cwouldn¡¯t do anything good for the internal structure. And from a brief hint of the heartfires around me, I knew people squatted inside.


    Making a split-second decision, I pushed off the ground with a mindfire stamp. The combination of explosive fire and propelling telekinesis changed my trajectory from a horizontal dive to a near-vertical spurt. I surged upward, cresting the roof in moments. I skidded to a halt on the top of the building, dust and dirt flying as I came to a stop.


    I focused on my heartfire senses once more. Karsien¡¯s mana was indistinct and hellishly difficult to detect, and while his lifeforce was a bit murky as well, it was far easier to pinpoint.


    My head snapped to the side as I sensed him leaving the building, taking a hard right turn to once again zip through the alleys. Dusk was here, and though my vision was enhanced by mana, I could just barely make out his trail of mist as it moved.


    You want this chase to continue? I thought with a hint of adrenaline, Then you¡¯re on.


    I jumped off the roof, using a telekinetic pull on two adjacent buildings to send me flying over the streets like a slingshot. Aurora¡¯s clockwork puppet circled overhead, and her thoughts had returned to normal since I¡¯d begun this game of cat and mouse.


    A blast of fire exited my feet as I used the force to reorient slightly, my eyes focused on the fleeing Karsien.


    The people of East Fiachra stared upward in wonder as I darted over them. Where before they might have shied away in fear, my face had long become recognizable. The patrolling mages of Bloodstone Elixirs, however, cried out in shock as I blitzed past them.


    East Fiachra was looking better. It seemed I thought that every time I came through here, but it was true. In the time since Mardeth¡¯s expulsion, people had slowly begun to return to their daily lives. And for once, I thought I sensed something in the populace beyond mute acceptance of their circumstances.


    Anger.


    These thoughts came and went in a flash as the street blurred beneath me. Mana thrummed in my channels as I neared Karsien¡¯s fleeing form. I felt myself smile as I raised a hand, just about to tag his back.


    My instincts flared at me as something erupted from his trailing cloak. A misty, nondescript humanoid form was suddenly face to face with me, a shadowed knife lurching toward my throat.


    I hastily pulled on the ground beneath me as the mist clone swung. My back bent at an impressive angle as I avoided the attack, then used the momentum to deliver a devastating sound-shrouded roundhouse kick to its side.


    My attack carved right through Karsien¡¯s summon, a trailing fog following the path of my attack. The vibrating particles of mana I leveraged made the clone disperse in a puff.


    But in the brief time my vision had been clouded by that clone, the Rat had escaped my senses. I ground my teeth as I stood in the middle of the street, my quarry nowhere to be seen or sensed.


    Aurora, I thought, What do you see?


    Look for yourself, my bond said over our thoughts. The tethers of lifeforce that suture me to this puppet are available to you as well.


    At her permission, I reached a hand out to the side. Those vibrating strings of heartfire¨Cmy heartfire, but somehow not¨Canchored my bond¡¯s soul to the clockwork raven overhead. And as I grasped those tethers¡­


    At first, the images came in nauseating flashes. One moment I was looking at the ground, and then I was soaring in the sky. Then I was on the ground again, my mind struggling to process the back and forth.


    I shuddered, then called my own lifeforce into my hands. The orange-purple light helped give me more control of what I saw as the vision stabilized.


    Aurora¡¯s puppet, which had been soaring overhead, suddenly became open to me. I looked through burning eyes at the wide swaths of Fiachra below, the wind whistling between my brass feathers.


    And few hunters could match the senses of a bird of prey. The puppet¡¯s eyes tracked over the streets, the vision bearing pinpoint precision beyond anything I could manage. Even from several hundred feet in the air, I could make out the smallest of pebbles on the streets below. And if I focused¡­


    There! I thought, catching a note of mist. Karsien had turned northward, heading toward¡­


    Toward the old Doctrination temple.


    I released my hold on Aurora¡¯s tether, my hands tingling from where my heartfire had surged. The orange-purple light faded from my fingers.


    Thank you, I thought to my bond. Then I was off again, heading directly toward the temple.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to reach it. In fact, I was already waiting on the roof when Karsien¡¯s misty form trailed up the side.


    ¡°You¡¯re slow, Karsien,¡± I said while smirking, the setting sun casting a deep, purplish-pink color through the retreating storm clouds overhead. ¡°I made it here first.¡±


    The mist surrounding the Rat dissipated slightly, revealing him in his masquerade mask and bandana. My smile slowly faded as I locked eyes with my second mentor in this new world.


    ¡°Do you know what you¡¯ve brought to these people, Toren?¡± Karsien asked, gesturing to the town around us. ¡°With what you did today?¡±


    The Doctrination temple was the tallest building for a mile around. It constantly tried to justify its own existence with its grand windows and arching columns. But it also provided a perfect place to look down on everything¨Cand everyone¨Cnearby.


    ¡°I¡¯ve started something good,¡± I said honestly. ¡°You¡¯ve seen what my music can do. If people can start to understand each other, then there¡¯s an opportunity for growth. For improvement.¡±


    Karsien walked to the side, looking down at the ground below. ¡°That¡¯s what you think, Toren?¡±


    A long, unsettling silence stilled the air. My adrenaline, which had finally started to fade in the aftermath of this chase, began to course through my veins once more.


    The man turned back to me. His mask, which depicted the long snout of a Rat, seemed more menacing in the low light, like something out of a horror film.


    ¡°First, Mardeth followed you here,¡± the Rat said, slowly loping toward me. At the mention of that man, my hands clenched. But I stayed silent. ¡°Then he brutalized the innocent people. And in the aftermath, you brought Renea Shorn to our doorsteps. Now her mages patrol these streets. They keep law and order, yes. But you would be a fool to think they have no other orders.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, but Karsien¡¯s tone pitched low and menacing. ¡°And now mages are sent here every day as word of your exploits and relationships spreads abroad. Bloods of all shapes and sizes want to know the origins of Toren Daen. And so they infiltrate this place; harassing unadorned and enforcing their own will. Until we make them stop.¡±


    My mouth clicked shut.


    ¡°Are you really doing this for the people of East Fiachra,¡± Karsien asked, ¡°Or just to assuage your own guilt for all the suffering you¡¯ve brought?¡±


    My lips curled up into a sneer. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting thing for you to ask, Karsien,¡± I said, trying to keep my anger under control. ¡°Considering your entire vendetta against Blood Joan. How many times did you draw the attention of the higher-ups in the area toward this place because of your reckless robberies?¡±


    Something flashed in Karsien¡¯s hand, steel glinting against the last glimmers of light. Mist poured out from under his cloak, the lilting fog kissing the stones underneath our feet as it spread. But I could immediately tell something was wrong.


    Karsien¡¯s mist had always distorted my senses. Even as I improved in skill, I¡¯d struggled to pinpoint his mana signature, and to a degree, his heartfire as well. But as this mist slowly coated everything on this rooftop, my senses weren¡¯t just dampened. As the fog enveloped me, everything became a confused blur. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to understand what was up and what was down.


    I spun on my heels, revving up my telekinetic shroud, just in time as something sharp blurred straight toward my throat. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 123: The Mist

    Toren Daen


    I barely managed to push aside the attack as it tried to clip my vitals. I stumbled, my senses going haywire as this strange new mist enveloped me from all sides. My senses constricted as if I were shoved into a tiny box, all light, sound, and touch abandoning me and leaving me dry. Empty.


    I gasped as something hard impacted my gut. My telekinetic shroud splintered but didn¡¯t break. I was thrown across the roof, rolling over the concrete. The mist swirled, casting me in even deeper darkness.


    What in the hell?


    ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora¡¯s voice thundered through my head. But it was muted like a dozen blankets covered my ears. ¡°This mist is¨C¡±


    I raised my hand to ward off another attack, deflecting a flying knife with a backhand on pure instinct. But something I hadn¡¯t sensed smashed into the back of my knee, making my stance buckle. I stumbled forward, and I got the first glimpse of something solid in the fog. Karsien¡¯s masked face appeared for the barest of instants.


    ¡°Do you know what the Doctrination preached when they paraded themselves around?¡± the Rat asked. His voice came from every direction, assaulting my enhanced hearing.


    His fist¨Cwrapped in the same swirling mist that was robbing me of my senses¨Cconnected with my jaw in a pulping uppercut. I tried to roll with the punch, but my broken stance made me lean into the attack instead. The shroud around my jaw crunched as my teeth clacked together. I saw red as I hurtled upward.


    Another barely outlined face popped into my vision. Feeling panicked, I thrust my hand out, throwing a flurry of soundshot at the appearing figure. But as my attack ripped through the vague outline, leaving penny-sized holes that swirled with fog, I realized the ploy too late.


    A mist clone.


    I felt something grasp my ankle. Then I was slammed back into the ground.


    Crystalline lattices flashed over my body at the impact, a small crater appearing in the stone beneath me. The breath was ripped from my lungs at the crash.


    ¡°They said all they did was for the lessers under their care,¡± Karsien¡¯s voice said. It sounded like he was right beside me, and all at once far away.


    I reached my hand out, trying to feel for something. To steady myself with anything.


    And I brushed the threads tying Aurora to her relic.


    For an instant, it was only me and the threads. In the infinite time before sensation pulsed over those cords, I realized something. I¡¯d always thought that the heartfire tying my bond to her relic was like a rope. Aurora piloted her craft like a puppetmaster, these whips of heartfire her puppet strings.


    But that wasn¡¯t true at all. In that moment where I could feel nothing else, the warmth in those intangible cords conveyed the truth. They weren¡¯t puppet strings.


    They were veins carrying blood. A highway for sustenance and aether. I felt understanding on the tip of my tongue. A truth I was just about to¨C


    Sensation returned to me like a heatwave. Sight and sound and surety washed over me. The weight I¡¯d felt on my telepathic tether to Lady Dawn vanished like fog under the glare of the sun.


    Move forward, Toren!


    Aurora said. Even as my hands left the relic¡¯s threads¨Cveins?--our connection was no longer burdened by the mist.


    I scrambled to the side, narrowly avoiding another attack that impacted right where my head would have been. I lashed out with an unfocused nimbus of fire, attempting to burn away the mist around me.


    Except it didn¡¯t. The mist seemed to move on its own, subtly avoiding my scalding fire, then surged back into place once my spell puttered out.


    This is Elshire Mist, Aurora said over our tether. I do not know how this Rat has gained access to such mana arts, but for now, it is irrelevant. You must escape this covering. It will continue to rob you of your senses. And¨C my bond cut off, then quickly spoke again. Duck, then counter to your right!


    Following her instructions, I dropped, then threw a sound-clad fist toward my right side. Another mist clone was disemboweled as my hands traveled through it.


    I thought you could only sense what I do, I thought, my eyes darting around the mist. It seemed endless.


    That is true, my bond¡¯s voice said against my ear. But I know to pick through the contrast and spot things you may have missed.


    ¡°You claim to be better than the Doctrination,¡± Karsien¡¯s voice resounded around me. ¡°Yet you do the exact same as them. Drawing in other powers. Using the authority of someone beyond you to justify it. Claiming it is all for those beneath you.¡±


    I spat out a wad of blood as the damage to my jaw healed over. My eyes searched through the mist, but it was as if I was a manaless human again. Only my sense of heartfire remained fully intact, and even that was flaky and uncertain.


    Elshire mist, I thought with apprehension. The same mist that had covered the Elshire Forest for millennia; protecting the elves within from expansionist humans. Its abilities to thwart perception and disrupt the senses were legendary.


    Karsien had improved. Maybe even advanced one of his emblems.


    I felt tempted to fall into my First Phase. I had no doubt I could rip this spell apart if I did through sheer might. The phoenixes were the ones to plant and nurture the Elshire Forest in the first place. And under the guise of my Will, I knew this challenge would offer no struggle.


    Above and to the left! Aurora said through my mind.


    I pivoted on my feet, feeling a flash of lifeforce from the direction she indicated. The Rat dropped in, swinging a dagger of solid mist. I unsheathed Oath in a flourish, imbuing it with a heated edge.


    I parried the Rat¡¯s precise cut. I felt more than heard as his dagger cracked from the sparking impact; my own magic and better weapon overpowering his own. I then tried to counter with a point-blank fireball. But not soon enough: my quarry simply melded back into the surrounding fog.


    ¡°You respond to strength with strength, Lord Daen,¡± Karsien¡¯s mocking voice came from all sides. ¡°How do you expect to help the people that we care for when you employ the same methods as those you fight?¡±


    My hand tightened on my saber. I felt anger rising in my stomach at the Rat¡¯s goading words. The accusation that I was no better than my enemies stirred something dark in my stomach. I felt my intent rise to match it.


    ¡°You want to know how the djinn maintained our peace?¡±


    the dying words of J¡¯ntarion said over and over in my head. ¡°It begins with understanding. And you are already on that path.¡±


    I raised Oath high, inspecting the red-patterned metal in the barest light. Orange runes flashed near the hilt, inscribed with utter precision.


    I could engage my Phoenix Will and rip this veil apart in an instant, I thought with clenched teeth. But then I would be exactly what Karsien accused me of being.


    It was true that I¡¯d begun to default on my personal strength more and more as I grew in power. The route of threatening others into submission was simple and effective; if brutal. And I knew, deep down, that I could not ignore the reality of this world. I wanted to institute change, but as my most recent charade with that Jasper bastard showed, it would be a long, long road.


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    Perhaps I would compromise on my principles one day. But that was separate from changing one¡¯s principles to accommodate the truth. What Karsien accused was different from growing in the face of struggle.


    I threw Oath to the side. The patterned metal disappeared into the darkness, leaving my hands bare. I settled into an old, familiar stance, calling on my magic. Mana thrummed as it slowly coalesced in my hands, forming a long dagger of solid fire. I held it in a reverse grip close to my head.


    It had been a long time since I¡¯d used this fighting style; the first one Aurora had ever trained me in. Yet I was ready.


    The fog seemed to settle for a moment. Though my sense of intent was utterly blanketed by the Elshire mist around me, I got the feeling the Rat was not expecting this move.


    ¡°I am more than what you say I am, Karsien,¡± I said. Though I could not see her, I felt Aurora¡¯s reassuring hand on my shoulder. ¡°And I will prove it to you. To the people of this world.¡±


    Shadows flickered and danced as a dozen mirrored silhouettes formed out of the mist around me. Through it all, I attuned my hearing; but not for normal sound. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The clones rushed me. I lashed out with a few telekinetic pushes, sending several of the clones tumbling away. Two swung their daggers at me in tandem. I raised my own knife of solid fire, parrying the swipe of one while simultaneously shifting to let the other skate past me.


    I grabbed the formless arm of the mist clone that had missed, then threw it at the other even as it tried to reposition itself for another swing.


    Behind you to your bottom right, Aurora said in my head, her voice stern.


    I jumped to avoid another clone lunging for my ankles, then lashed myself downward with a telekinetic pull to avoid an uncountable number of wind blades and water bullets arcing toward me. I coalesced a shroud of sound over my shoe as it smashed through the mist clone that had failed the tackle. When my feet hit the ground, a deep, rumbling vibration traveled through the roof as my sound mana smashed atom after atom together. The sudden shaking made many of the clones stumble.


    I launched myself forward with a mindfire stamp toward where I sensed the flash of lifeforce weaving through the mist. I trailed burning embers as I blurred forward, my flaming dagger poised to cut at the Rat.


    Karsien¡¯s eyes flashed with surprise as I came upon him in the mist, my weapon ready to carve him in two. He raised his twin steel daggers in a deft parry, my mana sparking at the impact.


    ¡°I know more of you than you think,¡± I whispered, grabbing his arm quick as a snake. I maneuvered to the side, slashing upward with my flaming dagger in a reverse grip. Karsien bent awkwardly at the waist, trying to avoid the attack, but I was too fast. After my First Sculpting, no normal man could contend with me in physical combat.


    A mist clone grabbed at my arm as it seared toward Karsien¡¯s face. Another tried to drive a knife into my back, the weapon splintering on my telekinetic shroud. And still another tried to wrench my leg to the side.


    But it didn¡¯t deter me. My flaming edge cut upward, slicing across Karsien¡¯s masked face.


    He stumbled through the mist, his heartbeat rising rapidly. The Rat covered his face with a hand, breathing heavily.


    His mask fell in two pieces to the ground, seared perfectly in two. Karsien¡¯s burn-scarred face looked up at me, an expression of raw fury plastered there.


    I pulsed outward with a nimbus of vibrating sound. The distortion dissipated every mist clone grabbing onto me.


    I settled back into stance. ¡°You think I¡¯ll become what you were,¡± I said. ¡°A man seeking vengeance above all else. Where your values and morality slowly, slowly slipped to the side; skewed by your hatred.¡±


    I saw a reflection of myself in Karsien¡¯s eyes. He¡¯d ventured into the Relictombs, looking for glory and fame. And once his conceptions had been shattered by Dornar Joan¡¯s cruelty, he¡¯d shifted more and more toward the methods of his enemies. Covert attacks. Political moves. And stealthy cunning.


    Where did the care for the unadorned of East Fiachra start and where did it end? How much of it was justification for his relentless campaign against those who had wronged him?


    Was he a protector, or a tyrant?


    In the instant of Karsien¡¯s mask falling free, I understood him. He breathed heavily, seeming to draw the mists into himself, then back out again. My makeshift dagger glowed.


    Karsien launched himself back at me, his steel daggers flashing. As he closed in, a mist clone erupted from his body that wore a familiar face.


    I saw the face of Benny¡¯s mother as she wielded a dagger; poised to strike through my chest. I exhaled steam, then carefully guided the mist clone out of the way. Karsien¡¯s arm erupted through his spell, seeking to rip out my stomach. I grabbed it again, then threw him across the roof.


    A dozen more clones popped into existence around me. Except none bore the Rat¡¯s face.


    Benny. Greahd. Naereni. Hofal. Wade. Trelza. And Kori, the youngest survivor of Mardeth¡¯s torture. All looked at me with expressions of hatred; knives poised.


    I exhaled, then took a single step forward. The mist clones stabbed at me with their weapons. They tried to pull me to the ground. They tried to rip my body apart.


    My telekinetic shroud turned away the majority of their attacks; the crystalline barrier sparking with lattice-like light. More and more knives aimed for the damaged spots, my shroud unable to repair itself in time.


    And still, I walked forward. The mana in my limbs empowered my physique beyond what these mana puppets could hope to achieve. Though they tried to keep me back; tried to weigh me down, I pushed forward with a singular purpose.


    I marched through a cloud of thrashing knives toward Karsien. I could not see him, but his thrumming lifeforce told me exactly where he was. A knife pierced through my shroud, scoring a deep cut across my flank. My own blood sprayed over the perpetrator: a clone wearing the face of Wade. Another thrust into the meat of my calf, wielded by a mockery of Benny. The glee on its face told me the truth.


    I grunted at the pain, but my lifeforce healed each wound as they came. For every cut made, a flash of orange and purple smoothed it over without blemish. The pain was absurd; but I¡¯d faced worse. I felt my reserves of heartfire dwindle at a rapid pace. More than I¡¯d ever dared use in one instance. Still, I pushed onward.


    I trailed blood as I finally walked through this blender of familiar faces and unfamiliar expressions. A gash opened along my side, tearing through my well-made tunic. Another opened on my arm, nearly severing the tendon. And still another trailed blood on my back. Each one burned in a flash of pain before my healing smoothed it over.


    My legs finally shook as a knife of mist embedded itself in my thigh, my walk finally halting as my leg buckled. I turned to the clone who had done it.


    It was Kori. A mimicry of the blithe-broken girl stared back at me. Where all the other clones bore perverse grins stretching across their faces, Karsien seemed unable to give this solemn child anything but her own, dead-eyed stare. Her patchy hair fell over her face in broken waves. Even in this cruel swarm, Karsien could not deny what this girl had been through.


    I pushed the clone away with a gentle yet firm hand. The gash in my thigh was slower to heal. I was dangerously close to drawing on my lifespan to suture anything more.


    But as I brushed the girl away, the expressions on the faces of the clones shifted to something more peaceful. No longer broken vengeance. Then they disappeared, subsumed back into the mist around them. Through my heady state of mind, I almost imagined they were spirits accepting the peace of the Beyond.


    I trudged the last few steps to Karsien, drenched in my own blood. My clothes were in tatters; the unending stream of knives having whittled my once-pristine garb down to little more than rags. Footprints of crimson traced the reckless path I had walked, each progressively more gruesome.


    My breathing was short and weak as I finally reached the Rat. I felt hazy from blood loss. Though I¡¯d regenerated each wound, the compounding effects were making my consciousness stilted. My heartfire flared dangerously in my chest.


    Karsien pressed the tip of his knife against the underside of my jaw. There was no telekinetic shroud to block it any longer. A single drop of blood trailed down my throat, and the cut didn¡¯t heal over. ¡°I could kill you now, Dicathian,¡± he said slowly, his burn-scarred face shadowed. ¡°End the threat you would be.¡±


    Then he stook rigidly, his eyes darting to the side, attempting to look at something behind him. But he couldn¡¯t afford to turn his head.


    Oath hovered behind Karsien¡¯s neck, the metal held aloft by my telekinetic emblem. Its edge trailed blood as the tip bit into the Rat¡¯s spine.


    ¡°The first thing you taught me,¡± I said tiredly, raising a hand and gripping Karsien¡¯s dagger in my fingers, ¡°Was the art of misdirection.¡±


    The sharp edge of Karsien¡¯s knife cut deeply into the meat of my fingers as I pulled it away from my throat. The Rat seemed stunned by the entire interaction, his burned face displaying something besides anger.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let myself become what you were,¡± I said hoarsely. Darrin Ordin thought me a monster. But I would not let myself become one. ¡°I won¡¯t let my principles break under the weight of this world. No matter how heavy. I swear it.¡±


    The chains on my arm flashed a deep red at the words. Karsien stumbled back a few steps, something unreadable in his eyes. Was that fear? Awe? Or maybe regret?


    The mist around me vanished, the atmosphere absorbing it back into the mana. Karsien opened his mouth, then turned away. He leapt off the roof of the Doctrination temple, disappearing into the night.


    I watched him go with sorrowful eyes. Every inch of my body ached; traces of phantom cuts from the faces of those I cared for seared into my memory. My fingers leaked blood in a steady stream.


    The Unseen World washed my vision. I turned limply to Aurora, opening my mouth. Then I topped forward.


    The shade caught me in gentle arms, lowering my aching form to the ground with care. She brushed a few strands of hair out of my eyes as my consciousness wavered. ¡°Children,¡± she said with a note of sadness in her voice. ¡°Children; the lot of you.¡±


    I coughed. ¡°Maybe we are,¡± I said, feeling tired. The stars slowly showed themselves as the storm clouds finally fled. ¡°Maybe we are all just children.¡±

 Chapter 124: Veins

    Toren Daen


    I trudged through the second layer of the Relictombs, my feet dragging behind me. Every eye seemed to hold shadows as they spotted me, but I was too tired to care.


    My heartfire pumped weakly in my chest; the excess energy wrung dry by my dangerous use of it not long ago. I¡¯d changed into some clothes that were more fit for ascents; namely some loose gray pants and a tight-fitting maroon shirt.


    After all, I couldn¡¯t walk around drenched in my own blood.


    Aurora¡¯s relic had reverted to its brooch state and was pinned to my shirt. I¡¯d needed to retrieve the lifeforce I¡¯d imbued there for a measure of relief. My aches weren¡¯t as bad now, at least.


    The Unseen World clouded my vision. As I walked, Lady Dawn kept a steadying hand on my shoulder, making sure I wouldn¡¯t fall. ¡°It was foolish of you to invest so much of yourself into that confrontation,¡± she said hotly. ¡°You narrowly avoided started down a path of no return.¡±


    But I didn¡¯t, I thought back. And it was necessary.


    Aurora huffed, then carefully maneuvered me away from a dip in the road. ¡°You are weak and sickly from the stress. But if you had not undergone the First Sculpting; if part of you were not of the phoenix, this may very well have been a death knell. Your heartfire will recover from this; but you must be thankful that it will.¡±


    I groaned as I stumbled around the dip, the movement pulling something that really didn¡¯t want to move anymore. What do you mean? I asked internally.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s lips came to a pursed line. ¡°Once someone¡¯s baseline of heartfire is affected outside of natural aging, it is rare that they can recover fully. Though the phoenix is different, as our lifespans are mutable. Shifting and uncertain. But for a lesser, merely touching the edge can spell a downward spiral. But theoretically, you shall recover with a stronger flame than before.¡±


    Like wearing out a muscle, I thought tiredly. Good to know.


    I spotted Sevren not far ahead. The Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association loomed over both of us, the lines of intricate statues boldly announcing their legacies. When he saw my weary approach, he looked both ways, and then hustled over to me.


    ¡°What in the Vritra¡¯s name happened to you, Toren?¡± he asked, scanning me up and down. ¡°Were you attacked?¡±


    I chuckled weakly. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said, waving away his concern. ¡°What gave it away? The bags under my eyes?¡±


    Sevren scoffed. ¡°You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over. Who attacked you? Was it that Rat fellow?¡±


    My vision flashed to the Rat¡¯s broken mask. His fury-burnt eyes. And how something in him had shifted as he ran.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said again with a little more bite. My fight with the Rat meant more than just a battle between two men. It was symbolic of my own will to preserve the barebones peace of East Fiachra, as well as my own promises for the future. My oaths.


    Sevren was not convinced. He was tapping his finger on his bicep with a look that showed he was clearly worried about me. It was a look painfully reminiscent of Norgan¡¯s.


    I felt Aurora¡¯s steadying hand on my shoulder. Her disapproving stare. I took a deep breath in, letting my lungs fill with air. Then I exhaled, imagining my anxiety misting on the wind like steam. If I wanted to keep my oaths, I needed to be in the right state to follow through on my word. ¡°No. You¡¯re right, Sevren. I¡¯m not in fighting shape right now.¡±


    It stung to admit that. Especially as I¡¯d grown stronger, I¡¯d taken solace in the surety of my combat abilities. Admitting any sort of weakness was like ripping off a scab that would never heal.


    ¡°I can change the destination of the ascension portals before we enter to somewhere familiar if you don¡¯t think you can fight at your regular ability,¡± Sevren said quietly. ¡°Or we can do this again another day.¡±


    I let my shoulders slump. ¡°No. I need something to keep my mind occupied right now. If there¡¯s a time for me to test this strange connection you have with the portals, it¡¯s now.¡±


    The Denoir heir looked unsure, but he nodded. ¡°I understand.¡±


    And from the expression on his face, I realized I believed him. I didn¡¯t know much of the white-haired striker, but I had the feeling we were more alike than either of us realized.


    ¡ª


    The town zone, for the first time I¡¯d entered it, was unchanged from my last visit. Rows of suburban homes sat contentedly beside Alacryan apartments, all looking serenely into the endless expanse of rolling hills.


    Sevren had covertly activated his spellform before we¡¯d entered the Relictombs, changing our destination and avoiding fighting through any sort of zone.


    I traced the asphalt road in front of me, watching as it wound far into the distance. Sevren Denoir stepped up beside me, looking at that same endless black line.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let myself become what you were,¡± I¡¯d told the Rat. ¡°I won¡¯t let my principles break under the weight of this world.¡±


    ¡°What you told the djinn about your tutor,¡± I said blankly, remembering what Sevren had said while kneeling at the last ancient Watcher¡¯s feet, ¡°about her being taken away for the Vritra¡¯s experiments? How did you discover that was why she was taken?¡±


    The white-haired striker was quiet for a long time. ¡°Her name was Abigale. A wizened, cranky old woman who refused to budge on even the barest of things. It was she who taught me about Alacryan history. About politics. And about the Relictombs.¡± The man was quiet for another second. A soft breeze blew through the area, carrying the deep green scents of freshly cut grass and morning-after dew. ¡°When I was little, I rarely saw my parents. It was only Abigale and a small room where I was grilled on everything.¡±


    Sevren clenched and unclenched his hands. ¡°Then they came for her one day. I remember it. The sun overhead might be fake, but it shone all the same. Not a cloud in the sky. A dozen of Taegrin Caelum¡¯s researchers knocked on our door. My mother, Lenora, brought them in for tea. As was my duty as heir, I watched. I was supposed to observe and learn. The talk was simple at first. They asked how our finances were doing. What we aimed for in the future. And through it all, my mother was a master politician. She deflected their questions. Buried their avenues of attack under layers of subterfuge, all with a kindly smile on her face. The researchers were left thinking they¡¯d won each and every exchange, only for my mother to have swindled them out of what I knew was far more valuable information.¡±


    The Denoir heir ran a hand through his brilliant white hair. It was an unkempt, wind-swept mop, and though he wore it well, I could tell it wasn¡¯t cared for in the same manner as other highbloods I¡¯d seen. For the first time, I noticed the bags under his eyes. The stubble along his jaw seemed a bit more untamed than usual. ¡°But then the researchers asked for a single thing. A person.¡±


    ¡°Abigale,¡± I exhaled. ¡°They wanted your tutor.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what they wanted her for,¡± Sevren said sorrowfully. ¡°But you know what the kicker was? Where before my mother had fought tooth and nail with her wordplay; when the researchers asked for my tutor, who was practically a member of the family? My mother gave her up without a beat of hesitation.¡±


    I felt Sevren¡¯s emotion through the ambient mana. His intent leaked in slow, undulating waves. The effects of long-held scars imposed themselves on the world. I felt my own emotions rise in tandem; an inverse to the effect of my magical music. Someone had been taken from me unjustly too, hadn¡¯t they? A brother.


    ¡°I still remember the look on Abigale¡¯s face as they shackled her,¡± Sevren said quietly. ¡°Not of betrayal. Or disgust. Or terror. Just broken acceptance. Like she knew it was going to happen to her. All while Mother and I watched.¡±


    Sevren turned to look at me directly. ¡°That¡¯s why I hate our politics so much. Only so far as the direct family can stay in power will we exert ourselves. But the moment something is deemed worthy of discarding; no matter their contributions? They¡¯ll be thrown to our gods as a sacrifice.¡±


    The air was still for a long, pregnant pause. I found myself staring at the small, quaint grave Sevren and I had dug for J¡¯ntarion. It was a sad, empty resting place for the last remnant of such an affluent civilization.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry that happened to you. And to her,¡± I said. I knew it was an empty gesture. My sympathy changed nothing. But I knew how impactful having a shoulder to lean on could be.


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°It happened over a decade ago,¡± Sevren said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve long accepted it. But I feel as if I¡¯m no closer to stopping it from happening again. If this were to happen to Caera, what could I even do to stop it?¡±


    Those words hung in the air. It seemed to me that the Denoir heir was desperately trying to keep his younger sister from the truths of this world. How would he feel if he realized she knew them already?


    At last, I spoke. ¡°I¡¯m going to ruin one of the High Sovereign¡¯s greatest plans. He desires to take someone¨Csomeone from a land far, far away from here¨Cand use them as a wildcard to break his stalemate with Lord Indrath. And there¡¯s someone I need to kill to make that impossible.¡± I turned to look the Denoir heir in the eyes. ¡°But I can¡¯t afford to become what I fight. I need to know the actions of those I face. So I can compare them to my own and know myself.¡±


    ¡°If you ever start to become like them,¡± Sevren promised, a hand on my shoulder, ¡°I¡¯ll be the first to tell you.¡±


    I felt Aurora¡¯s mind brush my own. ¡°He will not be the first, no matter what he desires,¡± she assured me. ¡°Know that I will always be a guiding light on your shoulder.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said to both the Denoir heir and my bond. I pulled myself to my full height, pushing past the exhaustion seeping into my every cell. ¡°Let¡¯s see if I can figure out that spellform of yours now. Before we get too weepy.¡±


    Sevren smiled sadly. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡±


    The portals, as ever, were just at the end of the road. The shimmering panes of purple beckoned us both forward.


    I traced the familiar runes along the edges of the stone frame with my eyes. Absently, I fiddled with the signet ring on my finger. When I changed the sigil of Named Blood Daen, I¡¯d naturally had the ring altered to suit.


    Sevren stood in front of the portal, giving me a look. ¡°I need to visualize the zone I want to go to,¡± he said. ¡°Give me a moment,¡± he added, laying a palm on the portal frame.


    I pushed away my other senses, narrowing my focus on the Denoir heir in front of me as he engaged his spellform. The rune on his chest¨Cwhich was usually invisible¨Clit up with a silverish light, which shifted to strange shades of purple. The portal didn¡¯t visibly change as silver motes flowed down Sevren¡¯s arm, but I hadn¡¯t expected it to.


    I walked forward slowly, focusing intently on the man. ¡°Do you see anything?¡± he asked, his voice slightly strained. ¡°Keeping this active is¡­ tiring. In a strange way.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°No, I can¡¯t see anything. But there¡¯s¡­ something off. I can¡¯t explain it.¡±


    It was true. The sense that I was being watched had returned; the overbearing presence that had always accompanied me in this zone. It had vanished after the death of the djinn, but somehow Sevren¡¯s spellform had pulled it back. But beyond that, there was something different about this attention. I wasn¡¯t the focus. The focus was¡­


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, backing away. ¡°I need to test something.¡±


    On a hunch, I walked a ways away from the portal. Sevren was visibly straining, but he held on remarkably as I tested the distance.


    ¡°As you suspected,¡± Aurora affirmed. ¡°The presence around us changes in proximity to the Artificer.¡±


    And what did J¡¯ntarion call that presence? I thought, wracking my brain. The Collective?


    I walked back to the Denoir heir, who was visibly sweating at this point. He panted lightly, the exertion from keeping this spellform active more than anticipated. I needed to change my tactics.


    I fell into the First Phase of my Phoenix Will. Soothing warmth ran along my mana channels as untapped knowledge seeped into my brain. The chain on my arm glowed a deep red, superimposing itself over my clothes.


    And the heartfire of myself and Sevren became visible. My own chest flashed with orange and purple, while the heart of the white-haired striker pulsed a deep red. But something else became visible to me, too.


    A line of burnished red heartfire trailed from Sevren¡¯s spellform. Not to the portal, as I¡¯d expected, but up into the sky. It seemed to become indistinct and formless the higher it went, yet I had the distinct impression it was connected somewhere else.


    An anchor? I thought, stepping forward. It flared and pulsed in tune with the Denoir heir¡¯s heartbeat. No, I thought, remembering the barest insight I¡¯d gained while fighting Karsien. That moment where I¡¯d brushed Aurora¡¯s puppet strings flashed in my mind. This is similar. It¡¯s not just a tether, I thought, brushing my hands through the strings. The indistinct red energy seemed to welcome my touch.


    I got flashes of images. A ravaged zone of tall towers and broken architecture. Images of scaled aether beasts and many-legged flying creatures darting through a void. And a strange creature that detached its tail, and then used it as a telekinetic weapon. What?


    Then the images winked out. I blinked, trying to figure out what went wrong. Had I snapped the tether? Was I simply not picking it up anymore?


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Sevren said, heaving for breath. ¡°Couldn¡¯t keep it up. It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s too straining. I can try again soon.¡± His hand was no longer on the portal frame; instead resting on his knee as he bent over. His spellform was deactivated.


    I exhaled a bit of steam. Not just strings, I thought. Veins. Highways for knowledge.


    ¡°Were you thinking of a zone with broken towers?¡± I asked on a whim, letting my Acquire Phase settle back into my core. ¡°With aether beasts that could detach their tails and¨C¡±


    ¡°Use them as weapons from afar?¡± Sevren asked, his brow raised. He took a deep breath, then appeared to settle himself. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s where I got the materials I needed to make the aetheric tether for my old tracking device.¡± He squinted at me. ¡°You figured something out.¡±


    I looked at my hands as I opened and closed a fist. ¡°My sense for lifeforce wasn¡¯t attuned enough until I utilized my Phoenix Will,¡± I said, still processing the event. ¡°But when you engage that spellform, it creates a sort of vein connecting you to what I think is the Relictombs itself. I can touch that vein and get a bit of information about what you¡¯re conveying. It¡¯s similar to what my Bond does to control the puppet relic.¡±


    Sevren quickly withdrew a notebook from his dimension ring and began furiously scribbling notes as I spoke. ¡°Were you able to influence the energy at all?¡± he asked, ¡°Besides just receiving information. Could you change that ¡®highway?¡¯¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a chance to try,¡± I said honestly. Could I influence that tether? And if I could, what would be the results? ¡°But Sevren, there¡¯s something more important I need to tell you.¡±


    He looked up from his notebook, his brow furrowed. He no doubt sensed the seriousness in my tone. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Whenever you activate that spellform, it draws a little bit of that innate aether from your heartfire,¡± I said slowly. With the attuned senses of my Acquire Phase, I¡¯d been able to make out the source of that red tether easily enough. ¡°That¡¯s why you tire so quickly even if the rune doesn¡¯t use mana. But your rune is a shortcut. I have the control I need to avoid affecting my baseline of lifeforce, but yours¡­¡± I looked at the Denoir heir. His ragged appearance. His deep-set cheeks. And eyes that were far too old for him. ¡°Every time you use this rune, it shaves away your lifespan.¡±


    I expected Sevren to say something. Certainly to acknowledge my statement. Maybe to ask me how I was able to keep such control. What I did not expect was for him to simply jot down more notes in his journal.


    ¡°Is there anything else you discovered?¡± he asked, his voice irritatingly curious. Nonchalant.


    I blinked, then felt myself flush. ¡°Sevren,¡± I said with an irritated voice, ¡°I just told you that you¡¯re burning away your lifeforce with every activation of that rune. Is that all you have to say?¡±


    Sevren sighed, then shut his notebook with a click. He twirled his pen through his fingers. ¡°Toren, I stole a relic from the Relictombs,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I smuggled it right past the inquirers and began carrying out research outside the purview of the High Sovereign. That was high treason.¡± The sharpness in his teal eyes bore a deeper edge than any blade I¡¯d wielded. ¡°That didn¡¯t just endanger myself. It put my entire Blood in jeopardy. If Agrona were to catch a hint of what I¡¯d done, Highblood Denoir would be ground under his boot, and our ashes would salt the earth of our estate.¡±


    Sevren held his notebook up. ¡°I¡¯m reckless, true. I take risks. I followed you, a stranger, through the Relicotmbs. But every risk is calculated. And if I thought my investigation of aether was worth jeopardizing everyone I know and love, then my own lifespan is inconsequential in comparison.¡±


    I swallowed, the brevity and bare admittance of the Denoir heir striking something in my soul. He truly didn¡¯t view his own life as something worth protecting. Something worth valuing.


    I opened my mouth, but I found myself unable to speak. Sevren was unphased, flipping his notebook open again. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to perform more tests with this. To see the limits of both your abilities and my own.¡± Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I steeled myself. ¡°Not right now,¡± I said, putting my metaphorical foot down. ¡°I could see your heartfire, Sevren. And the more you push it at one time, the more you damage yourself. Give yourself a week or two to recover, then we can do this again. When you aren¡¯t dragging your feet.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s pretty hypocritical of you, Toren,¡± Sevren said with a hint of amusement. ¡°Considering the state you¡¯re in yourself.¡±


    ¡°I think we can both agree that we value others over our own well-being,¡± I countered, a slight frown on my face. The Denoir heir wasn¡¯t treating this with the seriousness it deserved. ¡°Deal?¡±


    Sevren rolled his eyes. ¡°Okay. I haven¡¯t known you to break a promise so far.¡± He paused. ¡°Though I am going to Aensgar with you.¡±


    That caused my shoulders to tense. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t,¡± I advised. ¡°I¡¯m tracking¨C¡±


    ¡°Mardeth. I know,¡± Sevren said. ¡°But this entire thing reeks of a setup. First, you discover that the Vicar of Plague¡¯s base along the Redwater. Then Renea Shorn sets you up in Aensgar, the closest city along the Redwater. She¡¯s guiding you toward Mardeth, and I¡¯m not going to let you dive headfirst into a trap.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°It¡¯s still unwise,¡± I cautioned.


    Sevren patted me on the back. ¡°Besides, you can¡¯t deny that having me around is helpful,¡± he said pointedly. ¡°How else would you have evaded Renea Shorn¡¯s questions about the relic?¡±


    I massaged the bridge of my nose. He made a fair point. I was only going to embroil myself in politics more, and the Denoir heir was a convenient meatshield for questions I didn¡¯t want to answer. ¡°If I tell you to leave, though, you leave,¡± I said, cementing my position. ¡°Mardeth is still stronger than me for now. If I cross paths with him, you¡¯ll only be a liability.¡±


    The Denoir heir stowed away his notebook. ¡°I¡¯ve tiptoed around Scythe Seris Vritra for half my life,¡± he said with an exhale. ¡°You should have more faith in me.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t as much of a statement as he thought it was, considering Seris¡¯ true allegiances. I could only hope things wouldn¡¯t go south.

 Chapter 125: Aensgar on the Redwater

    Toren Daen


    Denvish held a notepad in front of him as he looked at me with obvious discomfort. The bulbous man was still ever the planner. ¡°Have you re-sealed your strings with rosin, my lord?¡± he asked.


    I looked over my violin, inspecting the aether beast hairs. ¡°I have,¡± I replied.


    The planner shifted uncomfortably. ¡°May I ask another thing, Lord Daen?¡±


    I sighed. Ever since my display of power in front of the Fiachran Bloods outside the canal-bound city, Denvish¨Cwho I¡¯d since learned was assigned as my personal planner for these concerts¨Chad been remarkably shifty and nervous. I couldn¡¯t decide if I preferred this or his constant badgering, and the indecision made me equally uncomfortable.


    ¡°You may,¡± I allowed.


    ¡°The guest roster has been entirely filled,¡± Denvish said slowly. ¡°You should make sure you know the basics of every family here,¡± he started, then caught himself. ¡°I mean, it would be in your best interest¨C¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± I said wearily, cutting him off. ¡°I¡¯m ready for this show.¡±


    Denvish sensed the dismissal, leaving with a covert bow. I watched him go with conflicted eyes.


    I was currently holed up in the back rooms of the Crimson Pool Theater preparing for my performance. As far as I could tell, the medium-sized theater was even more packed than my last venue on the outskirts of Fiachra. Word of my strange abilities¨Cand strange connections¨Chad gotten around.


    All around me, people were hustling with last-minute preparations. Lighting crews, recording teams, and others all darted back and forth, making sure everything was perfect. Whenever they crossed my path, they averted their eyes, saying a quick ¡°My lord,¡± before continuing on with their task.


    ¡°Your previous display against those upstart Bloods has cemented you as a true noble in the eyes of these people,¡± Aurora said. Her clockwork avian construct fluttered on my shoulder, a sound like metal-on-metal resounding outward with a whirr. ¡°It is something you must learn to accept, even if it hurts the heart.¡± Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And that was the kicker, wasn¡¯t it? I know, I thought back with a bit of sadness. The point of that show of power was to speak with the language of highbloods. If I immediately start telling these workers to treat me like an equal, it will damage that blossoming image. I¡¯m just used to being treated like a person; not like an unsheathed knife.


    Ironically, this was the first time I¡¯d experienced what it was like to be treated like a lord. I hoped I could eventually wear away these people¡¯s reservations, but it would take time and effort to do so while also maintaining the respect of the noble Bloods which I hoped to influence.


    ¡°You¡¯ve learned this game of politics quickly,¡± Aurora said. The puppet tilted its head. ¡°The rewards you wish to reap are all functions of patience. The seeds you have planted must take root and grow before you start trimming their leaves.¡±


    I looked up as I sensed someone approaching. I smiled lightly as the aging seamstress employed by Bloodstone Elixirs navigated their way through the crowd with a few young women in tow. I stood as she reached me, stowing my violin back into my dimension ring.


    ¡°Lady Veza,¡± I said, bowing slightly. The woman was impeccable with her fashion sense and my clothing matched. I was wearing the same dark gray outfit with a maroon vest as the last concert. ¡°Pleasure to see you again. Are you here to make sure I haven¡¯t drenched my clothing again?¡±


    The seamstress huffed slightly. Her gray hair was tied back into a perfect bun, which only seemed to make her more severe. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said respectfully. ¡°With all due respect, the clothing I made for you was utterly ruined by that stunt you pulled. For the sake of branding, it cannot happen again. Do you understand?¡±


    It seemed Lady Veza was going for a recognizable look for each performance as a token of branding. I felt more comfortable around her than any of the other Bloodstone staff, likely because she hadn¡¯t immediately defaulted to bowing and scraping. ¡°I do,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°Though I wonder at the change in tie.¡±


    ¡°Your old tie had Fiachran symbols etched into the filigree,¡± the woman said as she circled me, doing a once-over on my dress. ¡°Here in Vechor, we don¡¯t want to remind them too much that you¡¯re native to Sehz-Clar. Some are still bitter about the war half a century ago.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I said, thinking about Renea¡¯s story of the Redfeud War. ¡°Do I look dashing enough?¡± I added playfully.


    Lady Veza completed her circuit. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said with a slight smile. ¡°Is there someone special you¡¯re hoping to impress? I can¡¯t define ¡®enough¡¯ without a standard to compare.¡±


    My mind flashed traitorously to Renea Shorn once again. The way she captured a room simply by entering it; drawing the eye like a dark star. Her subtle smiles and knowing eyes that peered too deep. I could almost smell a phantom of her floral perfume.


    And I could feel Aurora rolling her eyes.


    I coughed into my fist. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re here tonight,¡± I said with a bit of disappointment. As I¡¯d missed Renea Shorn watching my performance last time, I¡¯d made a concerted effort to spot her in the gathering crowd tonight and on the guest list. Yet she wasn¡¯t here. ¡°But I can only hope I would be charming enough otherwise.¡±


    Lady Veza shook her head. ¡°Never settle for ¡®enough,¡¯ Lord Daen,¡± she said, patting me on the shoulder as a grandmother would. ¡°If you wish to entrance a lady, you must put in your best. Show her you care. That she is the center of your world. Give her gifts! Attention! You¡¯ll be one of Alacrya¡¯s most eligible bachelors before long with these concerts. For her to have your eye would be a privilege!¡±


    I smiled lightly at the praise, but I couldn¡¯t let it get to my head. ¡°I don¡¯t think gifts are the right avenue,¡± I said mildly. ¡°She¡¯s different from most.¡±


    Renea Shorn was far more wealthy than I, and also intelligent enough to see such gift-giving for the ruse it was. Empty gifts would get me nothing. And it also was difficult to shower a woman with attention if she was a blank to my senses. ¡°Though your advice is appreciated.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know your beau better than I, Lord Daen,¡± Lady Veza said with a humble bow. ¡°And speaking of Alacrya¡¯s most eligible bachelors¡­¡±


    I turned to the side as Sevren Denoir strode in, his brilliant white hair tamed into a respectable side part for once. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± he said with a nod.


    ¡°Lord Denoir,¡± I replied, though there was a note of amusement in my tone. ¡°Any news for me?¡±


    In the couple of weeks since I¡¯d last been in the Relictombs with the Denoir heir, we¡¯d met on and off to try and test the limits of his spellform and my aether abilities. Progress was slow.


    Sevren looked at the seamstresses near me. ¡°A moment of privacy,¡± he said surely.


    Lady Veza bowed deeply; showing far more respect to the highblood heir. ¡°Of course, Lord Denoir,¡± she said, giving me a subtle wink that said, ¡®I wish you luck,¡¯ before shuffling off.


    When there was nobody in earshot, Sevren pitched his voice lower. ¡°I did a bit of digging,¡± he started. ¡°There¡¯s a high presence of vicars in this city. Higher than the Dominion average, even accounting for its central location. There are shipments of supplies sent up the Redwater on a regular basis, theoretically to this base at the headwaters that you¡¯re looking for.¡±


    ¡°So we track the shipments,¡± I replied. ¡°Follow them to the source.¡±


    It sounded too easy. Too simple. Yet Mardeth had never been one for subtlety. He¡¯d openly peddled blithe in Scythe Seris¡¯ Dominion and tortured civilians without repercussions. And even before that, he¡¯d insulted Scythe Melzri to her face at last year¡¯s Victoriad. Was I surprised that he wasn¡¯t making an effort to hide his operations?


    ¡°We still need to be careful,¡± I said to Sevren. ¡°I have no doubt that Mardeth knows I¡¯m in Aensgar. It wasn¡¯t exactly a secret.¡±


    Sevren looked at the Bloodstone Elixirs staff, who were giving us an even wider berth now that the heir to the Denoir legacy had arrived. ¡°I spotted a vicar in the seats outside,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re absolutely here to keep an eye on you.¡±


    ¡°Or stir up trouble,¡± I said, thinking of the Bloods that had confronted me after my last show. ¡°Either way, it isn¡¯t a good sign, even if it was unavoidable.¡±


    Sevren looked at me. ¡°Are you ready for this?¡±


    ¡°The concert, the infiltration of Mardeth¡¯s base, or something else?¡± I asked, trying to lighten the serious mood.


    ¡°This concert,¡± he said after a moment of silence. ¡°I know I¡¯m not the most believing in your cause here of being able to make highbloods understand, but¨C¡±


    I waved a hand in light dismissal. ¡°I get it, Sevren,¡± I said. ¡°It is an idealistic goal I have. But I have to believe that I¡¯m doing the right thing.¡± I paused. ¡°Do you remember what J¡¯ntarion said? About peace?¡±


    Sevren exhaled, something akin to pain flashing over his eyes. I took that as a yes.


    ¡°This is my path,¡± I said, standing up and patting the Denoir heir on the shoulder. ¡°It isn¡¯t your job to trust me without evidence. It¡¯s my job to prove its viability to you and everyone else.¡±


    I strode toward the stage entrance as Denvish called me. I had a show to put on.


    ¡ª


    I drew out a long note on my violin, holding it in a suffering grip as the ambient mana churned with my intent. Images of days long past; of running through the streets of Fiachra with Norgan and studying with Arlan faded from the air. I exhaled as the breath that had captivated me for so long, memories leaving my system like mist on the wind.


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    I felt a bead of sweat slowly trail down my face. It narrowly missed my eyes, tickling my skin as it traced a slow path along my jaw.


    In my last showing, I¡¯d played to the rhythm of thunder and lightning overhead. The pitter-patter of raindrops had guided my bow as surely as any arrow, projecting the terror, dread, and relief I¡¯d experienced in the Relictombs.


    Today, I¡¯d done something different. Today, I¡¯d thought of Norgan and summers I would never have again. Of the simple times; before the Relictombs. Before the Joans. And before the world upended itself.


    That drop of sweat finally hit the ground.


    I stared out at the silent crowd, taking in their enraptured expressions. I noticed a few with tears running down their faces. Another struggled to restrain their arm from trembling.


    How many of these people had lost a brother? A sibling? A friend?


    Vechor was one of the most military-oriented Dominions and had sent the most troops to the war in Dicathen, so I crafted my message to match. The seeds I planted here were small, of course. I pushed these people to think of their loved ones, who may be dead on foreign soil already. I pulled their emotions in tune with my own, urging them to think of their past joys.


    It was a small step. But it was a step nonetheless.


    I bowed lowly as applause slowly started, building into a crescendo that threatened to rattle the foundations of the theater. As my blood cooled, I spied something else out of the corner of my eye.


    A vicar, who had been in the crowd all along, pushed his way out toward the back, his dark robes making him stand out amidst the crowd of color. Not showing any sign that I¡¯d noticed his retreat, I raised my arms to the sky, then retreated toward the back of the stage.


    Sevren was in step with me before I¡¯d even reached the preparation room. ¡°The vicar is likely going to make for the closest temple,¡± he said. ¡°If you want to catch him, we can¡¯t waste any time.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately for him,¡± I said lowly, ¡°There isn¡¯t a soul in Alacrya who can outpace us together.¡±


    Sevren smirked dangerously.


    Denvish was rushing toward me, that same constipated look on his face. ¡°My lord,¡± he started. ¡°They¡¯ll have questions! You can¡¯t leave now,¡± he stuttered. ¡±I mean¡­ It would be inadvisable to leave so quickly!¡±


    I brushed a lock of sweat-soaked hair out of my face. It had somehow escaped my ponytail. ¡°I have more urgent things to attend to,¡± I said, walking past the man. Then I paused, turning to the flustered bubble of a man. ¡°And next time, tell me exactly what you think. Stop sugarcoating it.¡±


    I turned to Sevren, then nodded. We quickly weaved our way through the men and women in the preparation rooms, finally reaching a back exit.


    I pushed open the door, immediately sighing as the cool spring breeze brushed against my face.


    Aensgar was unlike any other city I¡¯d visited. Every bit of architecture I saw was composed of steel and earth. Rounded towers, squat keeps, and sturdy walls dominated the evening skyline. Vechor¡¯s gem of a capital was a living fortress, situated atop a tall slope along the Redwater. Every building I looked at emitted a presence that told me exactly what this place was.


    As Sevren and I zipped through the winding streets on lashes of telekinesis and tugs of wire, I quietly marveled at how different the cultures between Dominions were. I whipped around a sharp crenelation, the edge as sharp as a spear. The entire sprawling cityscape goaded any potential attackers to try.


    No wonder the Redwater Initiative failed. This place was designed with repelling a siege in mind.


    And soon enough, I spotted our quarry. The vicar was dashing through the streets, his black-and-red robes trailing behind him. People moved out of the way as fast as they could, bowing deeply as the vicar passed. He didn¡¯t pay them any mind.


    I perched atop a dark stone outcropping, watching the man zip toward a nearby temple.


    ¡°Your guess was correct,¡± I whispered to Sevren, who knelt next to me. His teal cloak and bright hair made him stand out in the darkness. ¡°He¡¯s heading straight to the temple.¡±


    The Denoir heir narrowed his eyes, his fingers clenching tightly around Promise. ¡°Still, something doesn¡¯t feel right about this,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s too simple. Too straightforward.¡±


    I exhaled. Truth was, I felt the same. The vicar wasn¡¯t doing anything to conceal himself. Actually, it seemed as if he was trying to make himself even more obvious. How much of that was the Doctrination¡¯s usual pomp and posturing? ¡°If it¡¯s a trap,¡± I said lowly, ¡°We¡¯ll face it when we get there.¡±


    The vicar was almost at the temple. He darted into a dim alleyway, cutting straight toward the temple. It was now or never.


    My legs tensed as I prepared to jump. The vicar was directly below us now; perfect for an ambush. I leaned forward, ready to freefall.


    Except something happened that I did not expect. The deep shadows in the alleyway seemed to shift strangely, and the vicar was jerked to the side and out of my sight. His mana signature cut off abruptly.


    I stood up in shock, trying to comprehend what had happened. The vicar was gone, but it didn¡¯t seem intentional. I exchanged a glance with Sevren, then finally stepped off the roof. My clothes fluttered in the wind for a few seconds as I plummeted, then cushioned my fall with a push of telekinesis. Sevren tapped down a split-second later.


    The shadows writhed with dark power, mana pulsing familiarly. And I saw the vicar.


    He was entangled in a mishmash of solid black wind, everywhere the tendrils touched draining him away. He couldn¡¯t even scream as he died, a dark corded tentacle piercing his lungs. The vicar gurgled as his body withered. Time seemed to accelerate as his body broke down in real-time, the tentacles constricting as their prey succumbed.


    I grit my teeth, feeling adrenaline course through my veins anew as this unexpected variable revealed itself.


    ¡°Retainer Mawar,¡± I said, my hand clenched tightly around the hilt of Oath.


    The mage in question stepped from the shadows. Her short-cut white hair was almost the color Sevren¡¯s, except it took on a more silver sheen. Mawar¡¯s dark red eyes watched me warily as she extricated herself from the cover of the wall.


    The vicar¡¯s body crunched to the stone ground, then flaked away as wind chipped at its broken form. The tendrils of void wind dispersed into nothingness.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± Mawar said. Her voice sounded confident, but her intent carried an undercurrent of something else. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡±


    I felt Aurora become more alert and more focused as I ran over possibilities in my head. Vritra-blooded humans scratched at the deepest of her ideals. Behind me, Sevren hissed in surprise. I could taste his fear.


    He didn¡¯t know, did he? I hadn¡¯t told him about this encounter. ¡°Retainer Mawar,¡± he said with a strained voice, clearly trying to sound respectful. ¡°We were just¨C¡±


    I took a single step forward, the clack of my shoes on cobbles cutting Sevren off. Mawar flinched backward. ¡°I left you alive last time you got in my way,¡± I said with a hint of venom. ¡°Are you planning to try and fight me again?¡±


    Mawar opened her mouth, closed it, then visibly steeled herself. ¡°You¡¯re going after Mardeth, aren¡¯t you?¡± she said, taking another step forward. The shadows at her feet shifted like a tide. ¡°I¡¯m going to join you. You can¡¯t do this alone. You were about to walk into a trap anyway! You need me!¡±


    I inspected the woman in front of me. No, she was more girl than woman. As I stared her down in this alleyway, I could almost sense her inexperience. I noted her claim I was waltzing into a trap, but that wasn¡¯t the priority. ¡°No,¡± I bit out. ¡°I¡¯m doing this myself. And I remember telling you exactly where you stood in comparison to the Vicar of Plague.¡±


    That was Mawar¡¯s goal, after all. She wanted to kill Mardeth.


    The retainer wasn¡¯t here to fight me. We both knew the outcome of such a confrontation, and I¡¯d grown stronger since. ¡°Look,¡± she started, trying a different tactic. ¡°Since our fight,¡± she said, visibly flinching, ¡°I researched who could¡¯ve tried to attack the temple in Nirmala outside the Doctrination. And that¡¯s where I dug up info on Mardeth¡¯s infiltration of Fiachra. It led me straight to you; the only reasonable explanation. And I was right! I can help you with this!¡±


    I hadn¡¯t given the Retainer my name after our clash, but what she said added up. Still, I couldn¡¯t afford to have someone I barely knew accompany me to infiltrate Mardeth¡¯s base. Sevren and I coordinated on a seamless, instinctual level. Mawar? Mawar would be a liability.


    I turned around, ignoring Sevren¡¯s clenched expression. ¡°No,¡± I said, turning around. ¡°I need certainty on this mission.¡±


    I started walking away, internally mapping out the route toward the Redwater¡¯s start. It would be a week or so of traveling regardless. Every Dominion was massive; each easily larger than Texas on Earth. The Redwater was about half the length of the Mississippi.


    I was stopped by a hand gripping my arm. Small fingers clasped my wrist, holding it tightly.


    I turned around, glaring at Mawar. Her position as a Retainer represented one of the things I hated most about this continent. The epitome of the poison urn that Agrona had created, where the most venomous creature claimed its spot at the top. The ambient mana churned with my concealed irritation.


    The girl flinched. I could taste her fear in the air. I felt it in my bones and in my core. Yet even as she wilted under my stare, she only clasped my wrist tighter.


    ¡°Please,¡± she said, almost begging. ¡°I need¡­ I need to prove myself worthy.¡±


    I exhaled. Mawar was terrified of me. But something else scared her even more.


    ¡°What do you want to be worthy of?¡± I asked, my eyes piercing her own.


    She looked away in shame, but didn¡¯t release my wrist.


    Aurora understood before I did. ¡°Not what,¡± she said to me as the Unseen World washed my vision. The phoenix circled the nervous Retainer like a hawk, gliding across the earth as she inspected the girl. ¡°Who.¡±


    I rephrased my statement. ¡°Who do you need to be worthy of?¡± I asked instead, my voice softer but still commanding.


    The silver-haired retainer swallowed, not meeting my eyes. Her mana wilted.


    ¡°You should take her with you, Toren,¡± Aurora said, resting a hand on my shoulder.


    Why? I thought back. I thought you hated Vritra half-breeds. ¡®Lessurans,¡¯ as you called them.


    The phoenix stared into Mawar¡¯s defeated eyes. I do, Contractor, she replied. But this is no lessuran. This is a scared girl who wants to please her mother.


    I looked at Sevren. He had seen many, many strange things while accompanying me on our ¡®adventures,¡¯ but this seemed to strike something on a deeper level. He looked between the unsure Retainer and me quickly, trying to assemble the pieces in his head.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked the highblood heir. It wasn¡¯t just me on this mission. Sevren had a stake in this as well.


    Mawar looked up hopefully, her eyes darting to Sevren. He seemed utterly unprepared for the question. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think,¡± he said slowly, ¡°Considering we don¡¯t know what Retainer Mawar could bring to the table,¡± he said diplomatically. His eyes, however, demanded answers from me.


    The Vritra-blooded mage puffed herself up more. ¡°I can help,¡± she said quickly. ¡°I¡¯ve built a network along the Redwater for several months that can help you reach Mardeth¡¯s base quicker. My intel is what led you here in the first place, after all. And I am powerful. I can help in a fight.¡±


    Sevren looked at me questioningly. An unspoken conversation flashed between us. He didn¡¯t seem innately opposed to the idea, but we both knew there needed to be limits.


    ¡°If you need further enticement,¡± Aurora said, ¡°Taking her along will put this Retainer in your debt. And considering you are dipping your toes into the waters of Alacryan high society, such a thing could be invaluable.¡±


    I sighed, carefully extricating my wrist from Mawar¡¯s grip. My bond was right. Having a retainer owe me a favor was a powerful card to keep in reserve. ¡°If you¡¯re going to follow us,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re going to do what I say. This is a stealth mission; not a combat one. We aren¡¯t trying to fight anyone.¡±


    The retainer looked at me with wide eyes. What had she been expecting me to say? To deny her?


    I likely would have if not for Aurora¡¯s quiet desire. She had a soft spot for children that influenced me in turn. And though I had a hard time thinking of Mawar as a child, apparently it was quite easy for Lady Dawn to do so.


    I didn¡¯t give her a chance to respond. I still felt irritated by the entire confrontation; especially due to all the extra variables that just got dumped into my lap. I swiveled on my heel, then looked up at the rooftops I¡¯d just dropped from. I internally prayed this wouldn¡¯t explode in my face.

 Chapter 126: Along the Redwater

    Toren Daen


    I shifted uncomfortably atop the swiftsure horse as it ran across the road, the clip-clop of hooves on stone providing a bit of centering noise. These mana beasts were especially mobile: they conjured eddies of wind along their green-tinged hooves to propel them at absurd speeds when they wished. Today, however, we were going at a slower pace than that.


    The paved road Sevren, Mawar, and I were following lead in a southeastward tilt, kissing the banks of the Redwater as it gradually snaked toward the base of the Basilisk Fang Mountains.


    The sound of rushing water was a constant in my ears, accompanied by the sounds of untamed wilderness. Every now and then I felt the presence of a mana beast nearing our group willing to test its luck.


    A meager flare of my killing intent usually sent those on their way.


    We¡¯d passed through a few outer towns and minor cities that kissed the borders of Aensgar. Yet the further along the Redwater we traveled, the less and less I saw signs of civilization.


    As we rounded a bend on an upward slope, Sevren used the chance to sidle closer to me. He was obviously far more practiced in riding. He shifted and moved naturally in turn with his mount. Meanwhile, this was the first time I¡¯d ever ridden a mana beast. It was painfully obvious I was unaccustomed to this mode of transport.


    ¡°You failed to mention to me,¡± Sevren said with a light hiss, ¡°That the person you beat in Nirmala was the Retainer of Etril. Care to explain that?¡±


    I made sure to blanket Sevren¡¯s voice with a sound spell, though Mawar certainly sensed my use of magic. She glanced toward us uncomfortably but looked away quickly when she met my eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was really relevant,¡± I responded. The damn mana-empowered horse took a step to the side, and I tugged on the reigns to maneuver the beast back on course. Finicky creature. ¡°I told you my source was trustworthy.¡±


    ¡°You did not tell me that you beat a retainer in their center of power, Toren,¡± Sevren said, covertly glancing toward the nervous Mawar. ¡°That¡¯s basically relevant to everything. She could get her Scythe involved in this. And we both don¡¯t want that.¡±


    I sighed. Mawar had been the one to requisition these horses to spare us a week or so of travel. Unfortunately, last night Sevren and I hadn¡¯t managed to talk much about our new traveling companion. ¡°That¡¯s part of why I let her come along,¡± I said. ¡°If I denied her, there was a significant chance she would pull higher powers into this. And you can¡¯t deny how useful having a retainer owe you a favor could be.¡±


    Aurora chirped appreciatively from her steampunk sparrow on my shoulder.


    ¡°Not you, too,¡± Sevren groaned, glaring at the clockwork construct. He shook his head. ¡°This is your mission, Toren. I just want to make sure you¡¯ve considered every variable.¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond but turned to the side as I sensed something approaching. An avian mana beast fluttered down from above the trees, striations of red running through its dark feathers. Its eyes were beaded with malice, mana churning underneath its surface.


    I pulled my swiftsure horse to a halt, mana thrumming along my palms as I prepared to snipe the creature from the sky. I raised my hand, closing one eye as I aimed at the clearly hostile beast.


    ¡°Wait!¡± a voice called out from the side. ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡±


    I looked to the side, surprised to hear Mawar¡¯s voice. She¡¯d been silent for most of this trip, but why would she speak up now? Did she want the kill herself?


    The Retainer of Etril raised her hand, some sort of spellform flaring on her back. The mana beast above immediately oriented on her, pausing midair as it flapped its wings. From how the raven-esque creature tilted its head, I recognized it as curiosity.


    And there was something about that spellform, too, I thought, narrowing my eyes.


    The bird drifted down slowly, circling for a while. Then it landed on Mawar¡¯s outstretched hand.


    I slowly lowered my own arm, my mana drifting away as I watched, perplexed. Mawar reached into a pack on the side of her horse, retrieving a bit of dried jerky. She tossed it to the mana beast, which caught it with a quick snap of its sharp beak.


    Then it flared its wings, flapped them twice, and flew back into the sky.


    ¡°It¡¯s a blackblood cordwing,¡± she said quietly, her scarlet eyes tracing the bird¡¯s wayward flight. ¡°Back in Etril, we have different variations of cordwings all over. But the mana beasts around here have been mutated by the Redwater. That one just needed food for its young.¡±


    The Redwater wasn¡¯t entirely red. At least not initially. Near Aensgar, there were traces of light crimson in the water that I could see¨Cbut as we traveled further and further upriver, the water shifted closer and closer to the color of blood. Some of the trees and plantlife around us had slowly adopted a similar color palette as they became more and more sparse. But to think the mana beasts would, too?


    ¡°It was clearly hostile to us,¡± I said quietly, maneuvering my horse closer to Mawar. ¡°How did you calm it down? With that spellform?¡±


    Mawar visibly blushed when she looked at me. I hadn¡¯t seen that intimidating mask of a retainer since I¡¯d defeated the young teen in Nirmala. Now, she acted more her age. ¡°I¡­ didn¡¯t grow up in a city or anything,¡± she said. ¡°I spent most of my childhood in the woods. You learn how to understand nature when you spend all your time in it. My first spellform reflected that, I suppose.¡±


    I think it used some sort of unique intent to communicate with that cordwing, I thought, slightly intrigued.


    Mawar coughed, pulling herself up and adopting a more severe pose. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t matter. We should keep moving toward Mardeth¡¯s base.¡±


    The retainer forcefully averted her eyes from me, then pushed her steed to take the lead ahead. I looked back at Sevren with a raised brow. He shrugged, then directed his own swiftsure horse into a light canter.


    ¡ª


    I poked at the fire, savoring the warmth as it fizzled and popped. I laid my hand over the flames, endowing a bit more of my mana into the conflagration. It flared once, then settled into an easy burn.


    Sevren sat in a cross-legged position nearby as darkness covered the sky, writing something in his notebook. The horses were lashed to a nearby tree, along with several of our supplies. A few bedrolls were laid out around us in preparation for sleep.


    Mawar sat a distance away, leaning against a tree. She seemed more comfortable with the thick, reassuring roots rather than near the fire.


    I understood that.


    I was thumbing through a book I¡¯d bought from a bookstore a week or so back. It was called Of Mana and Minds: An Argument For Consciousness and the Individual. It was written by one of the top professors of Central Academy a few centuries back and served as a foundation of Alacryan philosophy.


    The author, a long-dead mage named Acraten, created a thesis on how mana was the ultimate expression of conscious thought. Through this work, he posited magecraft as the truest expression of self. For while all others were bent to the whims of the world, mages made the world bow to them. Fire and water and wind and earth shifted at the whims of those who controlled mana. Lightning could be harnessed by those with the aptitude. Even gravity gave way to the hands of those with the necessary insight.


    I underlined a short paragraph, then scribbled a question on the sidelines. If mana is what makes one truly human, then what of men and women whose cores are pierced? I wrote. Are they suddenly no longer human?


    If I asked this question to Acraten, I suspected the answer would be yes. But the way to argue this book¡¯s shortcomings to another would come from understanding their point of view. The arguments and ideas posited here were well-thought-out: but they were still flawed. This text represented the backbone of Alacryan prejudice against the unadorned from an angle unrelated to the Vritra.


    And so I dedicated my free time to deconstructing books such as this.


    I sighed, feeling weary of reading. I snapped the book closed, stowing it away in my dimension ring. Back on Earth, my primary source of reading was fantasy novels: stories of other worlds and fantastic powers.


    I would never be able to enjoy those in the same light again. The sense of escapism was gone; ground away under the brutal reality of a true other world.


    Yet still, my love for books remained. Something deep in my soul marked me as a bibliophile, and Alacrya had so much to read and not enough time.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Aurora¡¯s relic wheeled around the small clearing we¡¯d found ourselves in before settling itself onto my shoulder. When I closed my eyes and focused on my ears, I could hear the timber of heartfire thrumming from her threads.


    Sevren and I had made little progress in investigating his spellform¡¯s connection to the Relictombs. Mostly, we¡¯d discovered what I couldn¡¯t do. I couldn¡¯t influence the threads; changing their course or severing their function. I could make out flashes of whatever Sevren was envisioning as he focused on his rune, but nothing more.


    If I tried to add my own lifeforce to the tether, the entire connection would immediately collapse. I got the sense that was an intentional aspect from the Relictombs. I was purposefully denied the ability to manipulate the Relictombs at all.


    I thought of what I was going to face here, soon. I hoped Mardeth wasn¡¯t present at his base when we made it there. I didn¡¯t think I was ready to fight him, yet. Besides, the intent of this was to unearth his plans.


    Stealth would be king. I was confident in hiding my mana signature. In fact, it was one of my most underutilized gifts. By constantly following Aurora¡¯s guidance in maintaining a grip on my internal energy during assimilation, I¡¯d gained tremendous control over my mana. This translated perfectly to keeping my power contained and my presence low.


    But Sevren and Mawar? I didn¡¯t know about their stealth capabilities. If it came down to it, I expected I would have to go on ahead without them at some point when security became too tight.


    As I was running through possibilities in my head, I remembered my last clash with Mawar in Nirmala. She¡¯d been guarding that massive crystal of basilisk blood. From how she spoke, she seemed to assume it was somehow integral to Mardeth¡¯s plans.


    ¡°Mawar,¡± I said aloud, looking across the fire toward the tense retainer, ¡°What did that massive crystal of basilisk blood have to do with Mardeth¡¯s experiments? I could guess he was gradually mixing that crystal with his blithe, but not much more than that.¡±


    The retainer stiffened uncomfortably. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. Basilisk blood is an extremely good conductor of decay-based mana arts. I assumed it had something to do with that. But it doesn¡¯t really matter now,¡± she said, sulking slightly.


    I furrowed a brow. ¡°Why not?¡± I asked, confused.


    ¡°After you¡­ uh¡­¡± Mawar swallowed uncomfortably. ¡°Well, afterward, I went back down. To see if I could save my mother¡¯s mages, like you said. But they¡¯d been assassinated, and the basilisk blood was gone.¡±


    I blinked. Aurora¡¯s relic hopped off my shoulder, then slowly drifted toward the shivering retainer. The girl watched it with a mix of fascination and unease.


    This is why she came to you, Aurora guessed. She lost her avenue of attack once the basilisk blood was taken. And so she came to one who was on the same track.


    Part of me was relieved that I hadn¡¯t killed all those mages. I¡¯d dealt what would¡¯ve certainly been fatal blows without treatment, but another part of me was disappointed in myself for being relieved. They¡¯d died anyway.


    ¡°Your mother?¡± Sevren blurted out, before realizing what he¡¯d said. He shut his mouth quickly, still uncertain of the retainer.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Mawar said. She shuffled closer to the fire. ¡°My master, Scythe Melzri. She¡¯s the one who found me after I manifested my Vritra blood in the forests. And she took me into our family. Taught me about being a highblood and all. She trained me to take part in the Victoriad to become her retainer.¡±


    I racked my brain, trying to remember all I could about Melzri from my notes on The Beginning After the End. Truthfully, I couldn¡¯t remember much. Besides being disturbingly insane in her fight against Bairon and calling Scythe Viessa ¡®sister,¡¯ there wasn¡¯t much I actually knew.


    That unnerved me more than I thought. As I thought back, I realized my reasons for allowing Mawar on this trip were more subconsciously rooted. I would have been far more comfortable denying her if I had a clear internal picture of what her Scythe was like.


    But I didn¡¯t.


    Aurora¡¯s relic hopped on the grass, looking up at Mawar with curious, burning eyes. Mawar looked back uncertainly, before holding out her hand for the little steampunk sparrow. As it hopped on her arm, the Unseen World coated my vision in muted color and wispy smoke.


    ¡°I did not truly understand why I vouched for this Vritra-half-blood,¡± Aurora said in my mind and from her shade. ¡°I provided logical reasons, true, but those were not the core. But I see clearly what I only understood through a haze before.¡±


    I could feel the complexity of her emotions as they wafted over our bond; like the scent of freshly baked bread from an oven.


    ¡°She wishes to please her mother,¡± Aurora said with an almost pitying tone. ¡°This Mawar does not merely wish to ratify her retainership by striking down Mardeth. She wishes to prove to the one she views as her master that she is worthy of being her daughter.¡±


    She is naive, I thought with a measure of surprise. Strikingly so. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°The desire to prove oneself to one¡¯s teachers is not innately naive,¡± Aurora said chidingly. ¡°Even if they are adopted.¡±


    Mawar chuckled slightly as Aurora¡¯s clockwork sparrow hopped up and down her arm. ¡°This is a wonderful artifact,¡± she said, a hint of joy in her voice peeking through for the first time. ¡°How was it made?¡±


    I felt a light smile curl on my lips. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I didn¡¯t create that one,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask Lord Denoir about it.¡±


    Sevren shot me a covert glare as Mawar looked at him with hopeful eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a trade secret,¡± he said stiffly. ¡°I am afraid I cannot tell you, Retainer Mawar.¡±


    The girl blinked her scarlet eyes. ¡°Oh,¡± she said in a defeated tone. It was so much different from when she was lusting for my blood during our battle. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Her shoulders suddenly went rigid. ¡°I mean¡­ I shouldn¡¯t be apologizing to you. I am a retainer.¡±


    Sevren looked as uncomfortable as I felt. I had to remind myself this mage had been a Retainer for less than a year, and from what she said before that, probably spent most of her time in the woods.


    Aurora¡¯s construct nipped at Mawar¡¯s fingers, the clockwork mechanisms underneath whirring. That seemed to draw her attention away from Sevren for the moment.


    The asuran shade patted me on the shoulder before the Unseen World vanished.


    It was going to be a long night.


    ¡ª


    The next several days repeated much the same as we got closer and closer to our destination. Mawar explained to me in brief how she¡¯d tracked down Mardeth¡¯s operations. Mount Coreshen was one of the smaller mountains in the outer perimeter of the Basilisk Fang Mountain Range. According to Mawar¡¯s spies, Mardeth had resumed his activities here after he was pushed from East Fiachra.


    And apparently, Scythe Dragoth was offering the vicar a measure of asylum. Not so much direct protection, but silently allowing the priest to operate as he wished in Dragoth¡¯s Dominion.


    ¡°Scythe Dragoth does whatever petty things he can to try and irritate Scythe Seris,¡± Mawar said with irritation. As the days wore on, the retainer had become far more open and sociable. ¡°It¡¯s all stupid posturing. Mother¨C¡± The retainer caught herself mid-word. ¡°I mean, Scythe Melzri says we¡¯re all supposed to be a family. The last of the Vritra in the world. So we shouldn¡¯t fight amongst ourselves. Scythe Seris always leaves the rest of us alone and keeps to herself. It doesn¡¯t make sense why Scythe Dragoth keeps trying to irritate her.¡±


    Except Seris killed Dragoth¡¯s predecessor in single combat half a century ago, I thought to myself, remembering the story Renea Shorn had told me over tea. That leaves a mark. He can¡¯t outright fight her to avenge his Dominion¡¯s honor, so he resorts to things like this.


    The Redwater was truly the color of curdled blood, now. There were fewer and fewer bits of plant life as we traveled southeast toward the mountainous source of the river. Part of me wondered how toxic this water was. Mawar had explicitly told us not to allow our swiftsure horses to drink from that river. We had to provide our own water stores to our mounts.


    All around me, barren canyons and sandy outcroppings marked the dangerous approach to Mount Coreshen. Despite the roaring river right by our side, the landscape had slowly shifted to a more arid and desolate place. Deep canyons and spanning chasms became more and more common like the empty canals of East Fiachra made manifest a hundred times over.


    The slowly setting sun cast this entire place in a grim light. The orange and purple hues in the sky should¡¯ve been comforting, but I instead found them supremely unnerving.


    There is something deeply wrong with this river, Aurora said over our bond. She was flying high above, acting as a scout for anything in our path. I am tempted to believe Lady Shorn¡¯s story of an asuran battle on these plains. I can certainly sense the lingering effects.


    That made me almost pause in my tracks. Renea had told me a mythological tale of a great Vritra warrior dying at the Redwater¡¯s source after a glorious battle. I had dismissed it internally as a simple legend. But if Aurora was saying so¡­


    I looked out over the barren desert-like land. We¡¯d left paved roads long ago. For miles upon miles, there was barely a speck of life. The ambient mana was sparse and thin; like a stretch of oil spread over too much canvas. It reminded me of the outback of Australia from my previous life crossed with the canyons of Arizona. In the distance, the Basilisk Fang Mountains thrust into the sky like the ridges along a crocodile¡¯s spine.


    A clash between asura did this? I asked internally. The air felt dead, and the land was broken. It was hard to imagine beings doing this at all.


    My bond was silent for a moment. There is a river called the Sehz both on the continents of Alacrya and Dicathen, she started. There is a reason for this. Once upon a time, they were one, mighty flow. But as our kind waged war upon your world, the earth was ripped apart. Continents sank. Oceans evaporated to less than dust. And races died.


    I paled, thinking of the implications of my bond¡¯s words. The Beginning After the End always alluded to the destructive power of the asura. But to have it confirmed by my bond was terrifying in a way I struggled to comprehend.


    This is why we work to stop the High Sovereign, Aurora continued, pushing past my silent awe and terror. To avoid a repeat of the many wars of our past.


    I swallowed nervously.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± Mawar said from nearby. I looked at her sharply, pulled from my quiet dread. She didn¡¯t cringe back as she had before, whatever measure of fear I¡¯d instilled in her waning as we¡¯d gotten to know each other more. ¡°We¡¯re almost at the headwaters. You¡­ you said I would have to follow you from here on out, right?¡±


    I took a deep breath, then swung off of my swiftsure horse. It whinnied as my boots kicked up dust on the ground. ¡°We¡¯re going on foot from here on out,¡± I said. Sevren quickly did the same, resting his hand on Promise. ¡°How good are you at stealth?¡± I asked the Retainer of Etril.


    Mawar slid off her mount gracefully. ¡°I raised myself in the depths of a forest, Lord Daen,¡± she said a bit sharply. ¡°You¡¯ll never sense me if I don¡¯t want you to.¡±


    Sevren withdrew a device from his dimension ring. Mawar¡¯s eyes widened as they landed on the object, though it looked like a simple cube to me. ¡°This stealth device can help suppress my own mana signature,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ll be in and out before this vicar even realizes he¡¯s been had.¡±

 Chapter 127: Scars

    Toren Daen


    I squinted at the base of Mount Coreshen, not far off in the distance. ¡°You said Mardeth¡¯s base was along the base of that mountain,¡± I said to Mawar, who was crouched at my side. ¡°Is it veiled somehow? Covered in an illusion we can¡¯t sense?¡±


    Even as the churning flow of the Redwater coursed along our side, I was unable to spot anything remotely resembling a base along the edge.


    Mawar tapped her foot, then looked down. ¡°In the canyons ahead,¡± she said. ¡°From what my reports told me, there¡¯s an entire network of bases down below. All dedicated to the vicar¡¯s research.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, looking up at the avian construct circling above. Sensing my unspoken request, Aurora directed her puppet through the setting sky.


    The steampunk sparrow wheeled high above, the wings level with Mount Coreshen itself. I see what the retainer speaks of, Aurora transmitted over our bond. An interlocking web of scurrying rats far below. Come and see.


    I reached my hand out, brushing my hand against the veins. As I did so, I thought of the experiments Sevren and I had done with such similar cords of condensed energy. I wasn¡¯t able to influence those tethers much at all, and I got the sense that was due to the Relictombs themselves rejecting my touch. But these?


    Before I could contemplate the possibilities further, images of what Aurora¡¯s puppet was perceiving streamed into my head. An eagle-eyed view from the sky slowly overlapped my own sight.


    I didn¡¯t grow nauseous as I once had. Instead, I focused my perception on the construct. The shattered earth opened up before my eyes, revealing the land in its splendor.


    From on high, I truly understood this place as a massive battlefield. On the ground, the canyons looked like naturally-weathered divots snaking their way through the earth at random. The Redwater was simply another river, even if it was toxic and crimson.


    Yet from this new perspective, a pattern emerged. Canyons and chasms became straight cuts of spellfire arcing into the land. A hundred and one cuts gouged the miles of earth all around, an age-old battle presenting itself to my eyes. The land looked like a body that had been whipped relentlessly; scars stretching across a sedimentary back. Only one wound still bled red lifeblood: the Redwater, stretching far off into the northwest from whence we came.


    This land was a barren corpse.


    An asura died here, I thought headily. And these are the signs of their final struggle.


    Indeed, Aurora¡¯s stern mind said, brushing my own. But that is inconsequential now. Look near the river. See into the chasms.


    My vision sharpened under Aurora¡¯s touch. My eyes pierced the gloom with lazer-point precision, cutting straight into the deep scars through the rock. And I saw it there.


    Along many of the canyon walls, metal platforms were bolted to the walls. Dark, indistinct forms darted all along their lengths like scurrying ants carrying out a mission for their queen. A sense of stale death emanated from the depths.


    Found you, I thought, grinning maliciously.


    I withdrew my hands from the incorporeal veins, my hands tingling where my lifeforce intermingled with that highway of energy.


    ¡°They¡¯re up that way in the canyons,¡± I said quietly, pointing a bit to the south. ¡°We need to be careful as we approach.¡±


    Sevren nodded, then clicked a button on his little cube. I felt something in the ambient mana shift, then his mana presence vanished like a puff of wind. ¡°I¡¯m ready when you are.¡±


    Mawar followed suit, drawing her energy into herself. Once it became reasonably difficult to sense the retainer¡¯s energy, I did the same.


    All three of us bore silver cores, so it would be difficult for any average mage to detect our cores regardless of stealth. This was just extra assurance.


    I withdrew the damaged metal vicar¡¯s mask from my dimension ring; the same one Mawar had scarred with her powers. I let it settle over my face, the new straps easy to tie back.


    ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    ¡ª


    We approached the edge of the canyons with speed, the wind at our feet. As I got closer, the mana signatures of the many vicars became easier and easier to sense. Their blaring presences pulled me onward like a beacon till I was crouched over the edge of a chasm.


    I peered down. A catwalk of dark metal was bolted to the side. Far below, I could see the reflective glint of crimson water coursing slowly through the base like rivulets of blood. No doubt the Redwater bled some of its source into these ditches. Aurora¡¯s construct had shrunk from the size of a hawk to that of a sparrow as it clung to my shoulder, peering down as well.


    I looked along the catwalk, spotting a vicar up ahead as he walked at a sedate pace. He wore a hood up high that shadowed his face from my sight, even though the sun had already set. His black robes couldn¡¯t quite conceal his deathly pale skin.


    Where Renea Shorn¡¯s skin was light as death, it still somehow seemed healthy and full to my eyes. Yet the arms of this priest looked like that of a living corpse. Sevren moved next to me, but I held my hand up for the two of us to wait.


    The vicar passed underneath us, his boots clanking as they plodded over the metal.


    Once he passed, I whispered, ¡°Follow me,¡± making sure I tethered the sound to our area with my magic.


    I let myself fall. The wind rushed past my masked face as I plummeted toward the deep crimson water below.


    As I passed the catwalk, I quested outward with my telekinesis, a flare of white appearing on the railings of the metal. It creaked just barely as I pulled myself, arcing underneath the platform. My boots impacted the wall without even a hint of noise, my psychokinetic pulls keeping my soles lashed to the stone.


    Sevren arced down next. With a blur of red, Promise embedded itself into the wall next to me, trailing a taught thin wire. Sevren swung in a bare instant later, holding onto his hairavant wire as Promise¡¯s blade kept said wire anchored to the wall. Mawar was the last to reach us. While she wasn¡¯t nearly as graceful as Sevren and I, a few tendrils of solidified void wind managed to worm their way into the rock nearby.


    I looked at each of them in turn, before whispering, ¡°We¡¯re going to follow.¡±


    The vicar hadn¡¯t gotten far ahead of us, but the way he walked with purpose clued me onto him as a target. As he strode over the metal, I began to walk along the wall underneath his platform, keeping every noise I made muffled and quiet. Mawar followed at a similarly sedate pace, yet the Denoir heir had to let a bit of distance build before quickly removing his dagger and throwing it out again, using that strange wire technique of his to make it change direction midair to embed into the wall once more.


    Even as I muffled every sound my companions made, the slow gurgle of the water beneath us would¡¯ve masked our presence well. But as we slowly trailed this priest, another sound began to scrape at my eardrums.


    A horrid, familiar sound. That of buzzing wings and clicking carapace. Of hundreds upon hundreds of chittering bodies working in tandem.


    The vicar reached a fork in the canyon. A long, thin pathway opened into the rock at our side that stretched all the way to the canyon floor. Yet overhead, a slathering of stone made this into a cave.


    I hesitated for barely a moment before continuing to track this mage from below. The walls of the canyon were lined with lighting artifacts that cast a deep, orange glow across the chasm walls. Shadows danced in our wake as we slowly trailed the man.


    And as we entered this cave, the number of mana signatures I sensed picked up exponentially. And so did the buzzing.


    I felt my breath leave my lungs as I finally spotted what had been making that horrid, incessant buzzing.


    One of the first brushes with death I¡¯d experienced in this world had been when I¡¯d came face to face with an acidbeam hornet nest. The acidbeam queen kept her entire brood under an awful hivemind, coordinating each and every mana-enhanced insect with the force to decimate a squadron of mages with ease. Every hornet could eject acid from their stingers that could eat through even the strongest of mana shrouds, then dissolve those underneath to nothing more than a puddle.


    And so I watched as dozens of captive acidbeam hivemothers were lashed to the cavern walls by thick, glowing chains. Their writhing abdomens were hideously large, the mottled green carapace weak and bulbous. Thin tubes of clear material pumped red liquid from the rushing tributary below into vats. Vicars darted back and forth, dunking massive metal syringes into the reserves. I watched as they drew back the plungers. It looked like a man extracting blood from a vein as the vacuumed tubes slowly filled with crimson liquid.


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    I watched as a hooded priest strolled over to one of the captured hivemothers. The man watched the mana beast shake and squirm, its mandibles chittering in fear and wrath. He seemed to savor the moment, the massive syringe of red water in his hands.


    Then he plunged it into the creature¡¯s abdomen. The needle pierced the fleshy exterior with a disgusting squelch, sinking deep. The creature screamed loudly, but it immediately cut off as a vicar thrust something into its mandibles that blocked the sound.


    Horror trickled through my veins as I watched the massive abdomen slowly change from deep green to a mix of bright emerald and deep bloody red.


    ¡°Someone come over here!¡± the vicar said in a rancid voice. ¡°We need to bleed this one of its contents! Mardeth¡¯s going to make the best blithe any of you heathens have ever seen with this new method!¡±


    A few more men stepped up, their forms casting mutated, horrid shadows in the low light. Long, wicked knives flashed under their sleeves.


    I felt a mana signature near me flare slightly. My head whipped to the side, seeing Mawar¡¯s face seething with deep anger. Around her, void wind popped. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Evidently, the lead vicar could feel it as well. He paused, holding out a hand to halt the other vicars. ¡°Wait. I sense something off.¡±


    I snapped a hand out, laying it firmly on Mawar¡¯s shoulder. She made eye contact with me, hissing. ¡°They¡¯re torturing them,¡± she said angrily. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be caged here!¡±


    Mawar has a soft spot for mana beasts, I reminded myself. Keep that in mind next time.


    The vicar slowly walked over, a hunch to his shoulders that told me he was sniffing for blood.


    ¡°You need to restrain your mana,¡± I hissed. ¡°We can rip this place apart later. Right now, we can¡¯t let ourselves be discovered.¡±


    I was surprised by the words I uttered. I had no love for acidbeam hornets. In fact, they were one of the first things to haunt my nightmares for months. There were very few things I despised so utterly.


    Yet even these hivemothers did not deserve the tortuous treatment they were getting.


    Mawar slowly regained control of her mana, though the short-haired girl glared at me all the while.


    The lead vicar paused, tilting his head as Mawar finally withdrew her power. His hood fell down, revealing a balding, corpselike head with eyes too large for the sockets. Two small, onyx horns thrust from the sides of his empty scalp.


    ¡°Jorta, your holiness?¡± one of the other vicars asked, an impatient one with a long knife. ¡°May we continue?¡±


    Jorta¡¯s eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse of us. I pressed myself flush against the wall so that I was just out of his sight. I pulled Mawar back as well, though Sevren was quick enough to do the same.


    ¡°Carry on with what you were doing,¡± he said with a snarl. ¡°I have something I must do.¡±


    He stalked away, a fire in his steps that hadn¡¯t been there before. I watched him go hesitantly, wondering if we¡¯d been discovered as I ground my teeth. But another spectacle stole my attention away.


    The man who had asked the question earlier giggled with glee, then moved toward the hivemother¡¯s abdomen with his long knife. He flourished it, observing the monster¡¯s soft belly. It had turned a disgusting mix of red and green.


    He drew his knife across the skin in a slow, methodic draw. He seemed intoxicated by the action as his fellows followed suit.


    Red-tinged green acidic liquid spilled out, familiar to the acidbeam venom I¡¯d faced once before yet also distinct. Mawar¡¯s shoulder shook under my firm hand as the hivemother was slowly bled.


    It tried to scream, thrashing at its bonds in pain, but whatever the vicar had done to silence it kept it in mute agony. I watched with clenched teeth, a strange feeling twisting my gut. I hated these things. But they did not deserve to be bled like cattle.


    Another vicar held a large funnel underneath the wounds, the greenish-red liquid dripping into a clear container. Once it was filled, he scurried off elsewhere as another vicar took his place with a large bottle.


    I ground my teeth. ¡°We need to follow those men. See what they¡¯re doing with that extract.¡±


    Without giving the others time to protest, I began to follow underneath as I had before. All along, I wracked my mind to recall all I knew of blithe.


    I knew the base drug was somehow formed from distilled acidbeam paper, but from the vicar¡¯s words above, I suspected whatever was being made here was far, far stronger. The waters from the Redwater also weren¡¯t a usual ingredient in the concoction.


    I felt goosebumps rise along my arms as I considered what this meant. Acidbeam paper only held trace amounts of the original acid. But these vicars were ripping the acid straight from the source.


    Above us, the diminished corpses of hivemothers lined the walls. Some were still alive, clearly being milked for their acid. Yet most looked like shriveled husks. I was forcibly reminded of juice pouches from Earth, where they¡¯d slowly deflate as they were drained of their contents. The dull, dead corpses of the hivemothers looked much the same.


    Mawar seethed.


    We followed the vicar along his trek. I could feel his disgusting joy in his intent.


    The chasm split off one more time. This time, instead of into an underground ravine, this was a true cave. The vicar zipped inside, the darkness swallowing him.


    But we couldn¡¯t trace along underneath any longer. I looked at the ceiling of the cavern, gauging the distance. I waited until the mana signature of the vicar receded far enough.


    Then I jumped, twisting myself midair to anchor myself to the ceiling. Sevren and Mawar followed a bare moment later, though the poor Denoir heir was having more trouble keeping himself stable as opposed to the Retainer and I.


    I stepped into the cavern, traipsing along the ceiling.


    And was immediately struck by a sense of wrongness. A clawing, pervasive touch brushed my core, making me shudder. Mawar had a similar response, her eyes blowing wide. Only the Denoir heir seemed not to notice.


    It is here, Aurora said, her sparrow construct¨Cwhich was tucked into a pocket on my jacket¨Cseeming to wilt in on itself. This is the source.


    What do you mean? I asked mentally, taking a breath as I scanned the room nervously. What is here? That strange cloying presence¨Ccould I even call it a presence? That wasn¡¯t exactly right, was it? It tasted like dead air scraping against the roof of my mouth with rot.


    My bond didn¡¯t respond. Sevren looked at Mawar and I uncertainly, then mouthed the words, ¡°What is it?¡±


    I shook my head, pushing past my reservations. It didn¡¯t matter now. I had bigger priorities.


    I slowly shuffled forward along the ceiling. Mawar followed in stilted, jerky movements, her tendrils of void wind no longer graceful and fluid.


    The vicar we¡¯d trailed happily poured the contents of his jar into a massive, translucent container. Swirls of red and green mixed like the turbulence of an ocean in huge vats.


    So much of that strange blithe, I thought with horror. The massive container cycled through what looked like a distillery setup, a dozen different glass tubes and steaming plates leading toward a final vat. Theoretically, whatever was inside was the finished blithe product.


    But what drew my eyes was not far away from those items. A familiar, massive chunk of scarlet crystal glinted in the low light. A stand had been created for the hulking heart-shaped reserve of basilisk blood. Something had been driven into the side¡­ No, two somethings. Dark onyx rods pierced the sides, but I couldn¡¯t make out too much from where I was.


    The vicar darted away once he had finished pouring the contents of his container into the feed-in tube. Once he was gone, I chanced a few steps along the ceiling, hoping to get a better view of the red crystal. Mawar had guessed it was crucial to Mardeth¡¯s plans somehow, and from how it was arrayed alongside the processed red-green blithe, I had a feeling she was correct.


    My hand clenched on the hilt of Oath as I took a step forward, but that strange, undeniable sensation gripped my core once more.


    My eyes were pulled away from the construction of chemistry to the yawning darkness of the cave beyond.


    What happened here, Aurora? I asked, licking my lips. What aren¡¯t you telling me?


    My bond didn¡¯t reply, only folding in on herself more.


    ¡°There¡¯s something I need to investigate on ahead,¡± I forced out. ¡°I¡¯m going to check it out. But this machine in front of us seems to be part of Mardeth¡¯s end goal. I need someone to investigate down below.¡±


    Mawar shuddered. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ strange. Welcoming and repulsive at once. It¡¯s calling to me, I think,¡± she said in a horrified whisper. ¡°I¡¯m going with you, Toren,¡± she said.


    ¡°I can¡¯t sense anything,¡± Sevren said slowly, his bright hair flashing in the light. ¡°But if anyone here has a chance to decipher what that mechanical contraption is doing, it''s me,¡± he said, flaring his mana.


    That¡¯s right, I realized. My thoughts seemed to be pulled toward the darkness of the cavern beyond. I wasn¡¯t thinking at full capacity. Sevren¡¯s regalia, Scouring Purpose, would tell him far more from a quick overview than anything either Mawar or I could do.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said with an exhale. ¡°We¡¯ll be quick. Stay out of sight, Sevren,¡± I said, holding out a hand. He clasped it momentarily, before orienting toward the amalgamation of glass tubes and puffing fumes.


    I looked at Mawar, a sense of quiet dread percolating from my neck all the way down my spine. She looked even more unsure than I.


    I forced my indecision out of my mind, then darted along the ceiling. With each step I took, the cloying force redoubled. I grit my teeth as sweat beaded on my forehead.


    We ran for several seconds towards that source. The light of the artifacts receded behind us at an unnatural rate, the darkness ahead seeming too deep. Too full.


    I slowed to a halt as I reached the end of the cavern, my mouth slowly opening as I gazed upon massive doors of black iron. They were unornamented and devoid of any decoration.


    I could taste death on my tongue. Mawar shook by my side.


    Aurora finally mustered the energy to speak, her clear, melodic voice piercing my focus. This is where the battle ended, she uttered quietly. Behind these doors is the true source of the Redwater. This, she said, seeming to take a deep breath, Is where a god died. And they met an end violent enough to make the earth itself bleed.


    My breath caught in my throat. There are legends and stories of an asuran battle happening here, I thought numbly. They are true. I saw the marks from the sky. Felt the death in the mana. And beyond this door, is there a body?


    And suddenly, I felt a new kind of fear suffuse my veins. If the corpse of an asura lay beyond, what was Mardeth planning with it? How did all of these disparate threads tie together?


    What was the Vicar of Plague aiming for?


    I opened my mouth to speak. To say something. Anything.


    But a flash of putrid, familiar mana ripped the words from my mouth. Back from whence we came, I sensed the putrid touch of decay that had seared itself into my memory..


    And Sevren¡¯s mana flared once; twice, then winked out.

 Chapter 128: Putrid

    Toren Daen


    I spun on my feet, my heartbeat flaring in my chest. Suddenly, the looming dread from facing the final resting place of an asura was inconsequential. Mardeth''s mana signature surged with malice barely a hundred feet away.


    Fire and telekinetic force bloomed under my feet, the flare of orange light fighting the unnatural darkness. An explosion of sound, one I didn¡¯t care to mute, accompanied me blurring toward the terrifying blankness of Sevren¡¯s mana signature.


    I didn¡¯t remember drawing Oath from its sheath. My heart thundered in my chest, the pulse of my own heartfire threatening to escape my ribcage.


    The first thing I saw was a whirling cage of glowing green liquid churning around the basilisk blood crystal and blithe depository. A familiar putrid mana rippled in a domelike shape, shielding the inside from any harm.


    But the second thing I saw¡­


    Mardeth floated in the air, his head tilted and a vicious grin on his face. He held Sevren¡¯s body aloft by his right arm, putrid green decay spreading across his grip. Green sludge ate through different parts of the limp Denoir heir¡¯s body, worming their way deeper.


    I couldn¡¯t sense his mana signature.


    ¡°Ah, little mage,¡± Mardeth purred, turning midair to look at me. I barely noticed that the vicar¡¯s onyx horns, which once thrust nearly a foot from his head, had been severed near the base, leaving two neat black stumps. Sevren¡¯s head lolled, his white hair seeming a mute silver in the darkness. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d make your way to me.¡±


    The words went in one ear and out the other. I froze as memories flashed in my mind. Of a nameless unadorned melting under the onslaught of the acidbeam hornet¡¯s wave. Of a man speared through the gut, his stomach evaporating before I could save him.


    An old, dark memory replayed as I stared at the hand Mardeth used to hold Sevren¡¯s own wrist. Kaelan Joan¡¯s dagger descended toward Norgan¡¯s sternum in terrifyingly slow motion. I remembered the steel drawing my brother¡¯s life¡¯s blood like a grim harvest.


    The hand holding Oath shook. The vicar above noticed. ¡°Oh, this one is your friend, isn¡¯t he?¡± the vicar said, shaking Sevren¡¯s body like a doll. Green lines slowly crept past the Denoir heir¡¯s elbow, tracing their way along his veins. ¡°You remember what I promised you, didn¡¯t I?¡± he hissed with contained glee. ¡°If you tried to stop me before I was ready, those you cared for would face the consequences.¡±


    The vicar raised a disjointed, spindly hand, shifting his gnarled digits into the shape of a knife. As he did so, I could almost see his fingers become sharp stilettos. Kaelan Joan¡¯s broken dagger seemed to overlap Mardeth¡¯s hand, poised to reap the blood of another brother.


    I pushed myself out of my frozen terror, feeling anger swell through my worry. Aurora¡¯s mind burned away my remaining indecision. I needed to save Sevren. I¡¯d pulled him into this, and he was going to die.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sevren,¡± I whispered shakily, preparing to try anything to save the young man.


    Something dark blurred past me with the force of a typhoon. I stumbled as the wind disrupted my stance lightly.


    Mawar rocketed toward the Vicar of Plague, her pale skin shifting to that of midnight black. She seemed to absorb the darkness of the room into herself as eddies of void wind carried her toward Mardeth. Her normally scarlet eyes bled to deep yellow, but the rage in them overwhelmed anything else. Her change in form amped her mana even further.


    ¡°Mardeth!¡± she yelled, ¡°I¡¯ve come for what was promised!¡±


    No, I thought, engaging my Acquire Phase. I felt my heartbeat slow slightly as the familiar warmth seeped from my core, but it immediately sped up once more as Mawar charged the vicar, uncaring of the hostage in his hands.


    ¡°Melzri¡¯s pet,¡± the vicar said simperingly as Mawar arced toward him in the air. ¡°You should¡¯ve stayed in the kennel she created for you in Etril, girl,¡± he said maliciously, entirely unphased by the waves of power wafting off the retainer.


    I rushed forward with a mindfire stamp, but Mawar would reach the vicar first. Mardeth smiled toothily, his blind eye glinting with malevolence. He threw Sevren¡¯s limp body at the charging retainer.


    She¡¯s going to rip him apart, I immediately recognized. She¡¯s not thinking straight!


    I thrust my hands out, trusting in Lady Dawn to help guide my magic as I skidded to a halt. Oath clattered to the floor as I ignored it, engaging my telekinesis emblem. I quested out with my mind, grasping the tumbling body with my mind.


    My emblem, predictably, smashed straight through the Denoir heir¡¯s weakened mana defenses. I pulled downward for all I was worth, barely yanking my friend out of Mawar¡¯s path of decay.


    Sweat beaded on my brow from the speed of the action, but the hint of surprise on the vicar¡¯s wretched mug was worth the expenditure. Then Mawar hit him like a truck.


    A streak of wispy black carried the vicar and the retainer back through the cavern, far away from me.


    I leapt forward, catching Sevren¡¯s body before setting him down. My eyes darted over the Denoir heir¡¯s form, tracing his tendrils of heartfire and signs of weakness. I instinctively ignored the rampaging crash of Mawar¡¯s battle with the Vicar of Plague, instead sinking into the clinical observation of a surgeon.


    His other wounds are deep and dangerous, I thought, noting where divots of sludge had carved through Sevren¡¯s flesh like a knife through meat. But those aren¡¯t the worst. The green acid is static.


    The worst damage was the Denoir heir¡¯s right arm, where Mardeth had held him like a toy. The flesh around his wrist had been melted to the bone, five distinct marks showing where the bastard of a vicar had grasped my friend. But even that wasn¡¯t the worst.


    Some of Mardeth¡¯s sludge had infiltrated Sevren¡¯s bloodstream. I could sense it as it gradually ate its way along his mana channels like a parasite, slowly but surely carving its way toward his core.


    I exhaled, then called my lifeforce to the fore, laying my hands on the Denoir heir¡¯s chest. ¡°Sevren,¡± I said quietly. The man groaned in pain, his eyes fluttering weakly. ¡°I need you to think of why you fight,¡± I continued, engaging my healing. Orange-purple lifeforce flashed over my palms. ¡°Think about Caera, okay? Your sister wouldn¡¯t want you to die here,¡± I added with gritted teeth.


    The aether of my heart seeped along my palms as I tried to enmesh my emotions with those of the Denoir heir.


    That was the simple part. We were more alike than different. The thrum of my heartfire clicked easily into place as I synchronized myself with him. His own heartfire flared in response, the heat driving away his wounds.


    His body began to mend along his ribs and thighs, where that horrid vicar had taken gouges from his flesh. But when his own fire met the scalding mana of Mardeth¡¯s scourge, it faltered for the barest moment.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to let this beat you,¡± I said through hissed teeth. ¡°You¡¯ve denied your Fate once. What¡¯s one more time?¡± I said, calling with voice and aether at once.


    Sevren¡¯s red lifeforce began to push back the taint of the vicar. Before, it had reached past his elbow. Yet through our combined efforts, the green infection that showed through his veins and mana channels gradually receded.


    ¡°Mardeth,¡± Sevren choked out, ¡°His horns¡­¡± he said with fitful breath, his teal eyes unfocused. ¡°They¡¯re in the crystal. Nailed to the blood. Don¡¯t know why¡­¡±


    ¡°Save your strength,¡± I snapped, the chain on my forearm flashing. ¡°We¡¯re almost through this.¡±


    Yes, yes! I thought, feeling a sense of victory as all else fell away. I was making it. I was succeeding. Sevren would make it out of this fine. He wouldn¡¯t die as Norgan did.


    Something hit me in the side of the skull, hard. My telekinetic shroud creaked from the blow, crystalline fractures spreading along the side of my head. I tumbled away from the prone form of the white-haired striker, momentarily disoriented by the sudden change.


    I rolled, growling as I pulled myself to my feet. I¡¯d been so focused on healing my friend that I hadn¡¯t sensed the vicars streaming into the cavern. At my side, a dark spike of blood iron dug into the ground from where it had rebounded off my protections. Behind me, the green dome shield protecting the blithe distillery cast me in shadow.


    The vicar with short onyx horns¨CJorta¨Cheld a longbow in one hand, a sneer on his lips as his companions filtered into the cavern in front of him. The weapon in his hand was intricate, the limbs of a familiar red, crystalline material.


    ¡°You¡¯re arrogant, Lord Daen,¡± he said, ¡°To think you could break into Mardeth¡¯s base of power so easily.¡±


    I snarled, plasma burning around my hands. Oath levitated from the ground back into my palm.


    Toren, the voice of my bond said in my head. You need to get rid of these men quickly! The Artificer ails!


    My eyes darted to Sevren¡¯s body near my feet. The steampunk sparrow crouched defensively over my friend¡¯s prone form. Once my healing had stopped, the rot of Mardeth¡¯s mana had redoubled in its efforts to spread toward his core. The green veins stretched up to his elbow once again.


    Fuck! I thought with desperation. I felt flashes of mana as Mardeth and Mawar clashed outside, their battle shaking dust from the cavern ceiling. I couldn¡¯t heal someone and fight at the same time. The necessity of shifting my thoughts and emotions to align with their own was incompatible with the mindset I used to cut down my enemies.


    Jorta drew back the string of his bow, and a shaft of blood iron formed there in barely an instant, settling against the twine without a sound. The dark metal was wicked sharp, glinting in the darkness. I could barely see it in the shadows.


    It zipped toward me at an absurd speed. I growled, smashing the bolt out of the air with Oath. The contact shuddered up my arm, making my hands tingle.


    He¡¯s powerful, I thought angrily. A few vicars darted toward me, trying their luck. I raised my hand, a concentrated sphere of fire mana glowing around the tip of my finger. Sound mana edged around the sides, amping the vibrations even further.


    Plasma seared from my hand, burning holes through the priests that dared to try and rush me. They fell limply, but I was forced to jump forward to swat another bolt of blood iron out of the air as Jorta tried to shoot Sevren.


    Bastard, I thought, throwing a condensed sphere of fire at the vicars surrounding me. I lashed out with spell after spell, ripping every mage apart. I might have hesitated with anyone else. I wasn¡¯t a killer at heart, and death was so final.


    Yet these vicars held the same place in my mind as the Joans. They were leeches on the lifeblood of every good man and woman on this continent, slowly draining them dry. My hands barely faltered as men died.


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    Would I regret this slaughter later? I didn¡¯t know.


    It would take less than a minute to tear all these mages to shreds, Jorta included. If I could afford to move from this spot, it would end even faster, but I had a friend to protect. The vicar¡¯s blood iron arrows struck with the force of a dozen hammer blows, but they couldn¡¯t protect him from me forever. The thrumming power of my Phoenix Will demanded retribution as half a dozen telekinetic punches broke through several streaming spells aimed at my heart.


    Small grenades of barely contained plasma zipped around me under the control of my telekinetic emblem, ripping through anything that got in their way. And if a mage managed to block one, it would detonate, engulfing the target in burning ions. Screams of dying vicars caressed my ear, barely sating my fury. My Phoenix Will-amped powers tore through every mage that pushed their way into the cavern as I split my mind into a dozen different sections. The scent of blood clawed at the air as the ground was coated red.


    Projectiles of every element screamed through the air, but I sent waves of fire and rippling sound to intercept any that got too close. I threw up a telekinetic wall of force as a spark of lightning tried to cut through me, instead diverting it into a vicar who was trying to sneak up on me with a long knife. He spasmed wildly, then collapsed. I fired a quick bolt of plasma into his forehead, ensuring he would never rise again.


    Barely a few seconds had passed as my rampage began, but my bond transmitted her worry over our link. My head snapped down to Sevren¡¯s body, which I¡¯d stood guard over like a sentinel. The green veins that had spread up his arm were nearly at his shoulder.


    And I couldn¡¯t heal him. Not while also protecting him.


    I screamed my fury, the mana fluctuating with my intent. For an instant, every single dark-robed vicar faltered. Even Jorta, who had contemptuously hung near the rear while firing intermittent blood iron arrows, stumbled as a wave of killing intent thrummed through the room.


    But it wasn¡¯t simple killing intent. I threaded my hatred for the Doctrination through each wave, unconsciously conveying the depths of my fury. These vicars saw their deaths.


    The blood seeping into my shoes rippled in undulating currents, small drops rising as my power distorted the air.


    ¡°Cut off the arm,¡± a weak voice said as my rampage continued. I looked down at the Denoir heir as his lips moved, but the entire cave rumbled as something crashed against the cavern walls outside. ¡°Do it,¡± he said weakly, the green veins almost past his shoulder.


    I didn¡¯t have time to waste. I drew my fingers over Oath¡¯s blade, imbuing it with a searing edge. Then I brought it down on my friend¡¯s shoulder.


    He screamed as the red-patterned saber sheared through the limb. The fiery edge seared the wound shut, but my friend almost immediately fell deeper into the effects of shock. I grit my teeth, unable to tend to his wound.


    My arm snapped up, catching a blood iron spike as it sought to pierce my eardrum. My arm jerked from the force. If I weren¡¯t in my Acquire Phase, I wouldn¡¯t be able to deal with these at all. My hands tingled, some sort of poison wrapping the iron. My heartfire flushed that away without issue. I snarled, my eyes searching through the bodies of the vicars around me for a certain heartfire. One that was tinged with the blackness of Vritra blood.


    The assault had relented slightly as the number of my assailants dwindled, but my anger had only grown. I cocked my arm back as I spotted Jorta, a sneer on my lips. His face paled as he seemed to finally recognize the position he was in. He¡¯d evaded all my attacks by the luck of being outside my range.


    But my range could change.


    Spells splashed ineffectively across my telekinetic shroud as I lined up my sights. The Vritra-blooded vicar ducked behind a few of his compatriots, no doubt hoping their meaty bodies would protect him. As my enemies sensed the buildup of my power, they began to stumble backward.


    I concentrated on my emblem, shifting my telekinetic range into a narrow area in front of me. A long tube of pushing telekinetic force flared into existence in front of my face, exactly like I¡¯d done to kill the leviathan as it corded around the Empire State Building, even if it was less powerful. I threw the spike I¡¯d caught, using Jorta¡¯s heartfire as a guide.


    The blood iron accelerated like it was in a railgun. One moment I was holding the black spike. The next, blood sprayed as a hole opened in every single body that dared to block my target.


    Jorta coughed black blood as a hole the size of a soccer ball opened in his stomach. He toppled backward, bleeding out slowly. The blood iron spike disappeared somewhere into the cavern wall.


    I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow, then knelt back by Sevren¡¯s side. He groaned slightly, the smoldering cauterization of his shoulder sizzling noticeably.


    I grit my teeth, then laid my hands on his chest again. I began the arduous work of trying to seal over his shoulder. Guilt bloomed in my chest as I recognized why this had happened. Sevren didn¡¯t need to accompany me on this mission. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said weakly, tuning out the scent of scorched flesh and how heartfires winked out every second. ¡°This is my fault.¡±


    The scorched flesh along Sevren¡¯s shoulder receded gradually as my healing worked over the skin. ¡°I get it now,¡± the Denoir heir muttered groggily, clearly not lucid. ¡°How you can tether things. What you¡¯re supposed to do.¡±


    I grit my teeth. ¡°Be quiet, Sevren,¡± I said. ¡°Save your strength.¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± he said, raising his sole arm up. He grasped Aurora¡¯s puppet with a surprisingly deft hand. She squawked indignantly as he pressed the construct to my chest. ¡°It¡¯s a river of energy,¡± he said, seeming to suddenly gain clarity. His teal eyes flashed as they opened fully. ¡°You don¡¯t change what¡¯s on the river. Only its source!¡±


    I opened my mouth, unsure as to what he was trying to say. Then a final crash thundered through the cavern, shaking the ground and making me stumble.


    Mawar tumbled back into the cavern, her body riddled with bruises and bleeding from innumerable cuts. She cracked into the stone, then tumbled near to my feet. Green poison writhed across her black skin, barely held at bay by small eddies of void wind trying to force it back.


    The retainer¡¯s eyes flashed from their gold back to scarlet, before hardening into gold again. She groaned in pain, trying to pull herself up. Her dark dress was an utter mess, parts melted into each other. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, then collapsed back to the ground.


    I knelt quickly, trying to heal the young retainer on instinct. She groaned as my lifeforce caressed her own.


    But I was ripped from that reverie as Mardeth floated back into the cavern. His robes were similarly decimated, and several bruises stretched along his body. He surveyed his devastated troops, snarling angrily. He turned to face me as his wounds slowly healed with a wash of putrid green sludge.


    ¡°You¡¯ve proven yourself the largest thorn in my side I¡¯ve ever experienced, little mage,¡± Mardeth hissed. Mawar groaned at my feet as she struggled to fight off the poison in her body. ¡°I should have killed you when I had the chance the first time. Your death is going to be slow and agonizing.¡±


    I squared my stance. If this was going to be my final battle with Mardeth, then that was how it needed to be.


    But even now, I could sense the difference in power between us. He seemed¡­ weaker somehow, from how he¡¯d severed his horns.


    Aurora, I thought as the vicar floated closer. I need to go deeper into my Phoenix Will if I want to win this, I added, standing guard over the bodies of both Sevren and Mawar.


    You¡¯re not ready, Toren! Aurora snapped back, her construct fluttering from Sevren¡¯s hand. It flapped in front of my face, seeming to scold me for my actions. It will rip you apart! You¡¯re close, but you can¡¯t! Escape needs to be your prerogative!


    I glared at the little clockwork construct. Mardeth floated ever closer, seeming to savor my growing desperation.


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave them!¡± I snapped at the bird, only realizing as I spoke that I was talking out loud. ¡°They¡¯ll die here! Because of me!¡±


    I heaved for breath, the red chains on my arm flaring and retreating in tune with my heartbeat. I could escape here by myself if I tried. I was certain of that with my current level of power. I needed to dive deeper into my Will, but my obstinate bond was denying me.


    ¡°They¡¯ll die regardless,¡± Mardeth said, though he hung back, grinning as he watched me break down slightly. He was like a cat, savoring his trapped rat. ¡°Tell me, how do you want them to wither?¡±


    The Unseen World coated my vision, revealing Lady Dawn¡¯s stern, angry form.


    ¡°Then what will you do?¡± Aurora snapped back. ¡°Die with them? My priority is you, my son. I will not allow you to kill yourself here. I will do what I must to keep you alive. Even if you may hate me for it later.¡±


    I growled, then waved my hand through the orange-purple threads that blocked my vision in an attempt to push them away. My eyes flashed with what the construct saw, but I couldn¡¯t sever them.


    ¡°Source,¡± Sevren croaked at my feet, his hand clutching my pant leg. ¡°The source of the threads!¡± S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He knew about the threads connecting my Bond to the relic, of course. I¡¯d told him about them long ago. But what was he trying to say?


    I went rigid, my mind flashing as I looked down at the striker. His teal eyes were feverish and hot, boring into my own with hidden meaning. I remembered what he¡¯d said earlier before he¡¯d thrust the relic at my chest.


    The source, I thought, reaching out on instinct with my hands. The threads connecting the puppet to my bond¡¯s shade split into nearly a dozen threads as they connected with the tips of her fingers. I wrapped my hand around their invisible cords, tuning out even how Mardeth was slowly lowering toward me. Aurora controlled the relic, true. But as far as I was aware, her shade was only a manifestation of her center. Not the ultimate source.


    I wrenched the threads from my bond¡¯s hands, hearing her gasp in alarm as they tore free of her control. It was always my heartfire that formed these connections, after all. It was ultimately mine.


    Holding the frayed ends of this connection, I looked at the wispy ends of these energetic veins. The ends bled orange-purple light, and I was certain they were finally visible to the naked air. Mardeth paused in surprise, and I utilized that chance to take a gamble.


    To change the source.


    I thrust the severed heartfire threads into my sternum. They phased into my chest without resistance, some part of these veins understanding my intent. They snaked and twisted with a life of their own as they thrust into my silver core.


    The phoenix feather in the nexus of my power¨Cwhich glowed with the exact same light¨Creacted, thrumming outward. The threads wove around the feather in a gentle embrace, brushing against the plume with the caress of a mother.


    Aurora¡¯s shade gasped in surprise as she began to glow, her form becoming indistinct. She looked at me with those wide, burning eyes. I smiled, sensing instinctively what was about to happen.


    Mardeth realized the depth of my actions too late. He blurred forward, his face cast in a snarl that showed his rotten teeth. He thrust a hand out, green ooze erupting from his palms in a cascading wave that sought my soul.


    Something massive and glowing white-hot blocked its path, the attack sizzling away on contact. The djinn relic grew as Aurora¡¯s shade vanished, metal unfolding from nowhere as a grand transformation took place. Wind churned in the small, dark cavern as space was displaced, the brass clockwork sparrow growing exponentially in size. Mardeth was pushed back as he put his hands in front of his face, bracing himself against the flow.


    I had to avert my eyes from the glowing heat as the relic transformed. And when I opened them, I was cast in the shade of something massive behind me.


    The steampunk sparrow had changed; morphing from the size of a songbird to something that could rival the asura. Metallic feathers the length of my arm ran along its pristine form, and light the color of a waxing dawn shone from the cracks. A powerful grinding noise churned from within the construct. Above my head, a bronze-colored beak sharper than Oath glinted, large enough to swallow a man whole. Eyes like molten stars banished the darkness.


    I laughed headily, feeling a rush of dizziness as my Acquire Phase shifted back into my core from exhaustion. My reserves of heartfire diminished at a rapid pace as a thick stream of lifeforce layered over what was once thin threads, wrapping over and over themselves a dozen times to become powerful cords as wide as my arm. Along that highway of energy, all of Aurora¡¯s essence streamed in a steady thrum. The feather in my core pulsed as it transmitted power along a current of aether.


    ¡°Hold onto me,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice said aloud from somewhere above me. Massive bladed talons scooped up both Sevren and Mawar. The former was grinning wildly himself; the latter was unconscious after fighting off Mardeth¡¯s poison. I barely had the presence of mind to clutch onto the transformed relic¡¯s large avian feet, my hands feeling weak.


    Mardeth rushed us again, but my bond opened her jaw. Mana thrummed along her beak as red-hot plasma slowly coalesced. Then she screeched, firing a laser beam directly at the vicar. He was forced to duck low as the stream of mana melted through any rock in its way.


    My bond flapped her massive wings, blowing away the dust around us. Sounds like clashing swords echoed from her bladed metallic feathers before she lurched straight up, barrelling into the rock above.


    Her plated body smashed through the offending stone, breaking into the night sky above. I held onto her leg desperately, rocks tumbling around me. I cackled again, feeling drunk on euphoria. Sevren had understood before I did!


    My bond soared into the sky with a triumphant screech. Millions of light years away, the stars sparkled their approval at our escape.


    But then my muscles clenched once more as I remembered our situation. I turned back, expecting Mardeth to try and pursue. He could fly, after all, and though I had no doubt my bond would be faster, he could make our flight hell on earth. But after a minute or so of lightning-fast travel, I realized we were in the clear. Considering Aurora brought the roof down on his experiments, he was likely held up with making sure it remained safe.


    My shoulders slumped as adrenaline bled from my veins.


    Something large grasped the back of my collar gently, lifting me with a surprised yelp. Aurora¡¯s massive beak gently deposited me on her back as she soared to the northwest.


    ¡°Rest, my son,¡± she said in a low rumble, her eyes burning with the light of a sun. ¡°Soon, I must land. But before that, allow yourself some time.¡±


    I settled my forehead against the metal-plated feathers. They were warm, but not scalding. A comforting heat that assured me. I allowed myself to doze for a few minutes as we fled from the shattered plains below.

 Chapter 129: To Change the Source

    Toren Daen


    We flew for several long minutes, the ground passing away beneath us in a blur. My bond kept lower in the sky as the tenuous pulse of her heartfire cord lulled me into a light sleep. As I dozed, flashes of the destruction I¡¯d wrought on the swarm of vicars surfaced in my mind. So many echoing heartbeats snuffed out by my hand.


    In that half-conscious state of mine, I found a mote of regret. I didn¡¯t revel in killing. The earthen part of my soul still viewed human life as precious.


    But what those vicars had been doing¡­ that fundamental human side had drained away in their malice. Just like Kaelan Joan. Like Lawrent and Dornar.


    What I¡¯d done was necessary.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to land now,¡± Aurora said over our bond and aloud. I lifted my head from her warm, plated back, blinking to adjust to the light. ¡°We can afford to go no further.¡±


    Lady Dawn¡¯s massive avian form dipped lower, angling toward a copse of trees. Her wings made a strange scything sound as they shifted, a powerful whirring sound emanating from within the djinnic construct. ¡°Why now?¡± I asked, strengthening my grip around my bond¡¯s neck as she lowered.


    Aurora touched down with impossible finesse, making sure not to jostle or crush Sevren or Mawar who were clenched in each large talon. She released them gently into a nearby patch of grass before stepping back. Both were unconscious.


    I slid off her neck, falling a good few stories before my feet hit the ground. I turned around, looking up at the majestic form of the altered djinn relic.


    ¡°We are at the edge of the Redwater battlefield,¡± Aurora said, the massive raven-like head peering around the small clearing we¡¯d touched down in. The trees were sparse, and strange red lines ran along their veins. Indications of the Redwater¡¯s effects on the plant life. ¡°My asuran signature is partially masked by this construct, and further so by the aura of death surrounding that asuran battlefield. But as I¡¯ve inhabited this construct more fully, I struggle to restrain the notes of my presence that would give away what I am.¡±


    I sighed, running a hand along the large brass-like feathers. I settled my mind into the thick cord of heartfire running from my core to the djinn relic.


    I still struggled to comprehend what exactly I¡¯d done in that last split instant as Mardeth had approached. I¡¯d wrenched control of the djinnic relic away from my bond. Then I¡¯d changed the source of the relic¡¯s power. From a muted shade to the pulsing feather that contained Aurora¡¯s everything.


    These lines of lifeforce are not just tethers, I understood. No longer did the feather in my core flood my sternum with mana. Instead, that power traveled along these heartfire threads. They are both veins carrying blood and strings vibrating with music. And I changed the tune and energy flowing through.


    Aurora wasn¡¯t just puppeteering this relic any longer. Some part of her truly inhabited the machined bird in front of me. I doubted she could stray far from me, however. The relic was supported by my own lifeforce, and this simple cord was already extremely draining on my reserves of aether.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to change the source again then, won¡¯t I?¡± I said with a hint of sadness. I could feel the note of sorrow my phoenix bond felt. Once she¡¯d gained control of the small songbird, she¡¯d experienced a taste of true freedom for the first time in an age. And now she was closer than ever to having a body once more, only to be forced to relinquish it.


    Aurora lowered her head, nuzzling my chest with a beak that could swallow me whole. It glinted a deep bronze color. ¡°We will have time to work with this in the Relictombs. It is not as if I shall never feel the wind under my feathers again.¡± S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As my bond¡¯s large head moved away with a trilling noise, I gently grasped the ropes of heartfire pulsing from my sternum. I couldn¡¯t see them, but they had a presence that was impossible to ignore. I pulled them from my core, feeling as if I was unplugging a cord from a wall outlet. Immediately, the large djinnic relic began to shift and change as its source of power was severed.


    It shrunk down to the size of a feather once more as feathers folded in on themselves, steam wafting off the brass-textured brooch. I knelt down, picking it up as I let the threads disperse.


    I felt my exhaustion once again. Though I hadn¡¯t used much mana in my fight against the vicars, my heartfire was another matter. I was once again on the verge of touching the core of my energy; the bits that compromised my lifespan. It wasn¡¯t as worrisome as the aftermath of my duel with Karsien. My spare reserves had grown since then as I stressed my ability, but I still needed to be careful.


    I shuffled over to the prone bodies of Sevren and Mawar. The Denoir heir had fallen asleep as my bond flew us away, the stresses of the battle and shock from his injury finally overwhelming him.


    I knelt at his side, doing a cursory inspection of his burned shoulder. I didn¡¯t know if I could regrow my own limbs, but I was absolutely certain I wouldn¡¯t be able to give my friend another arm. I felt guilt clench in my gut as I recognized what he¡¯d lost in this foray of mine.


    I did a bare check of his wounds once more with my healing, poking and prodding at the stump of his shoulder. When I was sure he was relatively at peace, I shifted to look over Mawar.


    She was covered in bruises, gashes, and locations where Mardeth¡¯s sludge had eaten through her body. I took a deep breath, stoking my lifeforce as I laid my hand over her sternum. I performed cursory healing with what I could spare. After all, my healing burned both my own soultether and that of the target to achieve the desired effect.


    When I was finally finished giving first aid, I collapsed against a tree, utterly exhausted. We¡¯d barely escaped Mardeth¡¯s grasp, but now we didn¡¯t have our swiftsure horses. But that was a problem for tomorrow.


    As I slowly drifted off to sleep, I considered the differences between this world and Earth.


    It¡¯s the light, I thought groggily as I slowly succumbed to my exhaustion. On Earth, there was light everywhere. Every street was lined with tall lamps. Even in the middle of the night, the glowing power of human infrastructure banished the shadows. But in the untamed world of Alacrya, I cannot rely on that surety.


    My thoughts held me as I finally passed into the land of dreams.


    ¡ª


    A ray of sunlight scraped against my eyelids. I groaned, feeling my body aching as I slowly awoke.


    Rays of light streamed through the trees overhead, littering the ground with spots of color. It took me a few moments to remember why I was collapsed in a grove without shelter.


    ¡°Finally awake?¡± a ragged voice asked nearby.


    I stiffened, turning to see Sevren Denoir. The striker¡¯s white hair seemed to have dulled to an empty silver, his hollow eyes staring at me intently. The place where his arm used to be seemed to scald me. I averted my eyes quickly, feeling ashamed.


    I pulled myself forward, trying to think of something to say. ¡°I am,¡± I said awkwardly. ¡°What about you? Are you¡­ doing alright? After yesterday?¡±


    I winced, remembering the phantom sensation of Oath cutting through the Denoir heir¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯m doing better,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°Not sure what will happen now,¡± he said a bit emptily, looking at where his arm used to be.


    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said honestly. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for me taking you along, you wouldn¡¯t have lost your arm. And I should¡¯ve been able to heal you, but¨C¡±


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    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter right now,¡± the white-haired striker said, cutting me off with a hint of impatience. ¡°I don¡¯t care about my arm. It¡¯s not a big deal, and I was the one who insisted on joining you. But you were able to change the source of those threads, right?¡±


    I looked back at the highblood mage with furrowed brows, opening my mouth to protest. He¡¯d lost an arm because I had been unable to protect him. The fact that he was so quick to throw himself away¨Cboth his lifespan and body¨Cmade me feel even worse for what I¡¯d brought upon him.


    The Denoir heir must have seen the objections on my face, because his gaunt features hardened. ¡°Did you?¡± he demanded more firmly.


    I deflated. ¡°I was,¡± I said quietly. ¡°The¨C¡± I chanced a glance at Mawar¡¯s sleeping form, nervous about what she might overhear. ¡°The device was able to accept a different input. You saw a bit of that before we finally got out.¡±


    Sevren smiled softly, thumping the back of his head against a tree. ¡°I was right,¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°I made a difference, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    I swallowed uncertainly. ¡°You did. I wouldn¡¯t have figured it out otherwise.¡± And I would have had to leave you behind if I hadn¡¯t, a dark part of myself acknowledged.


    ¡°Mardeth destroyed your dagger,¡± Sevren said, shifting his stump of a shoulder. The man seemed to realize belatedly that there wasn¡¯t a right arm to use. He sighed, groping at his belt awkwardly with his left hand. He pulled a vial of something shimmering green and red. ¡°But I managed to take this in exchange.¡±


    I blinked, mesmerized by the swirl of neon green and deep scarlet. ¡°That¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°Blithe,¡± the Denoir heir said solemnly. ¡°Before I tripped that shielding mechanism, I managed to get a sample of the distilled product. I also got a bit of raw information about the machine from my regalia, Scouring Purpose, but it''s not enough to put all the pieces together.¡±


    I looked from the striker to the vial and back. I wanted to ask something, but the words halted on the tip of my tongue. My mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Did I have a right to even ask what I wanted to? After what¡¯s he¡¯s already sacrificed?


    ¡°I can figure out what this Vicar of Plague is trying in full,¡± Sevren said, filling in my thoughts, ¡°But I need time and resources.¡±


    I rubbed my nose with my hands. ¡°I can¡¯t ask you to help me anymore,¡± I said. Two sides of me warred. The pragmatic part recognized how helpful Sevren could be. But the part of me still reeling with the effects of my actions was louder. ¡°Not after what happened here. I got you¨C¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t cause any of this,¡± Sevren snapped, shifting his shoulder. ¡°It was that vicar, Mardeth. He poisoned me, not you. And I insisted on joining you; on helping you. I¡¯ll be damned if I don¡¯t follow through on my word. I might not have the dagger anymore, but we both know the weight of a Promise.¡±


    He is right, Toren, my bond conveyed gently. You are not at fault for his injury. I felt her emotions settle. She hadn¡¯t always liked Sevren, especially after he established conditions for her use of the djinnic relic. He is a good friend, my Contractor. A better ally than any could have expected. Do not shun such warmth.


    I closed my eyes, running over what I¡¯d seen in the chasms. Images of the vicars bleeding the acidbeam hivemothers for their innards flashed into my mind. Of the large heart-shaped crystal of basilisk blood. How did the waters of the Redwater, blithe, and basilisk blood all work together? How did the experiments he¡¯d done on the unadorned of East Fiachra tie into all this?


    ¡°You said that Mardeth¡¯s horns were embedded into the crystal of basilisk blood?¡± I said, trying to find a common thread in all of this. ¡°I know that the Vritra¡¯s horns act as a sort of focus for mana. But I don¡¯t get why he¡¯d sever such important symbols of himself.¡±


    ¡°You can think on it until you go mad,¡± Sevren said with a sigh, pocketing that vial of blithe again. ¡°But you still don¡¯t have all the pieces of the puzzle. And maybe I can figure this out, but I don¡¯t have all the tools I need.¡±


    Pain is what drives us to our greatest heights, Mardeth''s phantom voice rang in my head.


    What in the hells was he planning?


    ¡°What tools are you missing?¡± I asked absently, trying to untangle this impossible knot in my mind. Seeing the center of Mardeth¡¯s operations had only instilled in me a greater sense of dread.


    I still have many months until he would act, don¡¯t I? I tried to reassure myself. The threat of Seris Vritra was more than enough to keep him at bay for the time being, wasn¡¯t it? I had time to stop whatever this was.


    ¡°I have a set of diagnostic chemist¡¯s tools stashed away in the Denoir Relictombs estate,¡± Sevren said, seeming to force the words out. ¡°I¡¯ll need those if I want to dissect the purpose of this blithe. But I¡­ I can¡¯t go there.¡±


    I looked at the Denoir heir with a bit of surprise. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the heir?¡± I asked with surprise. ¡°You should be able to waltz right in.¡±


    Sevren slumped. His teal cloak did a good job of covering the gaping hole where his arm used to be, but not enough. ¡°I¡¯ve been pushing against my parents¡¯ agenda for me for years,¡± he admitted tiredly. ¡°Being an ascender created a perfect cover. I was outside their politicking. Ascenders have special political exemptions that I took more than full advantage of. But if I stroll up without an arm, I¡¯ll never be able to use those excuses again,¡± he said tiredly. ¡°I¡¯ll be another pawn.¡±


    My throat clenched as Sevren seemed to realize the full implications of his injury for the first time. His parents would finally have an excuse to bar him from being an ascender, claiming he was unfit for the job. His entire purpose would be stripped from him.


    And it¡¯s not a matter of if, I thought with a sick feeling, But of when. How long can he hide from the world that he¡¯s down an arm?


    ¡°I can try and get your tools for you,¡± I found myself saying. ¡°You said they¡¯re chemist¡¯s tools? What are they called exactly?¡±


    Sevren looked up at me, surprise washing through his haunted teal eyes. ¡°My family are like sharks in the ocean,¡± he said. ¡°And you¡¯ll smell like the freshest of blood to them. Even from a bare visit, they¡¯ll try to entangle you in their politics. You can¡¯t afford it.¡±


    I stood up, stretching out my sore muscles as the sunlight washed over my body. ¡°It was bound to happen eventually,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°I¡¯m already starting to get embroiled in highblood politics. It¡¯s a wonder I haven¡¯t been thrust deeper in, but it was an inevitability from when I started to grow in strength.¡±


    That was true. How many times could I make waves without being pulled under the water? Besides, the Denoirs were the kind of people I wanted to change the most. And I would not leave Sevren out to dry.


    He seemed stuck with indecision, wavering between accepting my offer and taking the plunge himself. So I made one more push. ¡°You¡¯ve sacrificed an arm for this cause, Sevren,¡± I said solemnly, holding out a hand to the sitting striker. ¡°Even if you don¡¯t think it¡¯s my fault, it''s a sacrifice. Let me do the same.¡±


    That seemed to clear the fog from his eyes. He reached out his remaining arm, clasping mine in a firm grip. I pulled him to his feet, nodding in acknowledgment. ¡°We¡¯re going to figure this out, Sevren,¡± I said earnestly, ¡°By whatever means.¡±


    He shook slightly, an emotion I couldn¡¯t discern crossing his eyes. ¡°We will,¡± he said weakly, though his grip around my hand only strengthened. ¡°We will.¡±


    The moment was broken as shuffling echoed out from where Mawar was sprawled. Her skin had long reverted to her pale base form, and I saw as scarlet pupils¨Cnot shining topaz¨Cpeeled themselves open.


    They darted around in a panic, the retainer pulling herself into the fetal position. Her breathing heightened as her heartfire thundered with fear. ¡°Where¨C¡± she croaked, ¡°Where am I?¡±


    I swiftly walked over to the prone form of the young Vritra-blooded girl, feeling her panic in the mana around us. ¡°You¡¯re safe,¡± I said softly, raising my hands in a nonaggressive manner as she spun on me, void wind popping weakly along her fingers. ¡°We escaped from Mardeth. We¡¯re a ways away from those shattered canyons now. You¡¯re okay.¡±


    The girl wavered, something wet and shining building behind her eyes. She slumped, her mana puttering out in her hands. ¡°I¨C¡± she croaked weakly, ¡°I lost?¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, edging closer before kneeling so I was at eye level with the young retainer. ¡°You did,¡± I said solemnly. I didn¡¯t know what else to say.


    The Unseen World layered itself over my vision as Aurora looked down at the Vritra-blooded girl. Her mouth was drawn to a thin line, yet her burning eyes shone with sympathy.


    Tears began to streak down the pale girl¡¯s cheeks as she trembled, wrapping herself in her arms as if to ward away the cold. ¡°Then they¡¯re right,¡± she said, her voice cracking. ¡°He¡¯s stronger than me. I¨C I don¡¯t deserve her. I don¡¯t deserve to be her retainer.¡±


    I felt something in my chest crack as Mawar trembled, seeming lost. I inched forward, laying a comforting hand on her back as she sobbed.


    I grit my teeth, feeling a familiar emotion rising in my stomach. Anger, one that was matched in intensity by the asuran shade at my side. This was Agrona¡¯s world; where the only way a daughter would feel worthy of a mother¡¯s love was through brutal combat.


    I wanted to say something, but what could I say? That every person deserved love? That Melzri loved her regardless of her strength? That she deserved her retainership regardless of her loss?


    Anything I would say would be meaningless. So instead, I tried my best to be a comforting presence for this teenager I barely knew. I remembered how broken I¡¯d felt in the aftermath of Nrogan¡¯s death. How alone I¡¯d been.


    I wouldn¡¯t let another grieve alone.

 Chapter 130: The Matron of the Denoirs

    Toren Daen


    Finding a fast route back to Aensgar was far less trouble than I expected. Mawar, Sevren, and I walked on foot for a short time until we found a secluded village along the banks of the Redwater. After flashing a sizable pouch of coins and the Denoir insignia, one of the men had been more than happy to sell us three of his leashed reptilian mana beasts.


    It was only my superb balance honed over the months of training that kept me from falling off as the reptilian creatures darted along the road in a twining, back-and-forth way that was not good for the stomach. I had a feeling that we¡¯d overpaid the man in that village for his animals.


    The events at Mardeth¡¯s base loomed over everyone present, though all for different reasons. Mawar had taken to wearing a hood to cover her face from any travelers, and Sevren had done the same. As the other two began trying to keep their identities more secret, so did I.


    After several days of travel, Aensgar finally loomed in our sight. The towering keeps and massive fortifications blocked out the rising sun, our mounts hissing in annoyance as they were forced into the shade.


    Before we reached the gates, Mawar turned to Sevren and me nervously. She opened her mouth, clearly wanting to say something. The powerful retainer was nowhere to be seen: only someone who had just lost the penultimate fight of their life.


    ¡°Our lips are sealed about what happened in that cavern,¡± I said quietly, suspecting what she was about to ask. I chanced a glance at the solemn Denoir heir next to me.


    She nodded stiltedly. Truthfully, there wasn¡¯t much she could do to protest. I¡¯d grown even more powerful since our last duel, and I suspected she knew it. Her own strength was insufficient to force my silence. ¡°If you want any sort of payment for doing so¡­¡± she started. ¡°Materials? Training? Money?¡±


    I blinked in confusion as Aurora sighed sadly. She thinks you mean to blackmail her, the phoenix conveyed over our bond. So she is offering hush money to motivate you.


    I sighed, again cursing this political system. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t rushed in to hold off Mardeth for a while, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to save Sevren from the vicar,¡± I said honestly, waving my hand dismissively. ¡°Call it even, yeah?¡±


    Mawar looked at me uncertainly, before dismounting her lizard beast. She handed me the reigns, gave me one last look, and turned to go.


    ¡°Mawar,¡± I said, interrupting her as she took a step. She paused, turning to look at me with uncertain scarlet eyes. ¡°You decide your own worth,¡± I said, hoping she would one day believe my words. ¡°Not those around you.¡±


    The retainer nodded stiffly. I knew she didn¡¯t believe me, at least not in the depths of her soul. But as the young Vritra-blooded mage covered herself in darkness and bounded up Aensgar¡¯s tall walls, I hoped one day she would see the truth. I didn¡¯t know how this would play out in the future, but I hoped things could improve for the woman. We weren¡¯t friends; not exactly. But we weren¡¯t enemies either.


    Sevren and I sold our mounts outside the city, and from the cash we made back, I knew for sure that the Denoir heir had far overpaid for them. We stealthily maneuvered our way through the city, carefully making our way to the Aensgar Ascender¡¯s Association. Once we were inside and nearing the Ascension Portals, our swift walk slowed.


    Sevren turned to me as we reached the massive portals. ¡°If you want to prove to my family that I sent you, then you¡¯re going to need this,¡± he said, handing me a deep gold medallion inscribed with the Denoir insignia. ¡°And this,¡± he added, giving me a piece of paper he¡¯d torn from his notebook.


    I read over the note. It was an abbreviated description of where I needed to go through the estate to reach his room, and where exactly in his room he left his¡­ I squinted, looking at the words.


    I looked up at Sevren, raising a skeptical brow. ¡°A mana-tuned fluid resonance dissector toolkit?¡± I asked sarcastically. ¡°That might be the most pretentious name for something I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t make the names,¡± he said with a huff, turning tiredly toward the purple pane. ¡°I¡¯m going to change my base of operations to that Town Zone you always manage to pop into. Meet me there when you¡¯re done.¡± I could just barely feel the mana react as he used the spellform on his chest to alter the portal¡¯s destination. I covertly glanced around, but nobody seemed to be focusing on the two of us for too long. Even though there was no visual representation of Sevren changing the destination, one couldn¡¯t be sure. He glanced back at me as his heartfire fluctuated under the strain. He hesitated long and hard with his next words. ¡°If my family refuses to help you further, tell them to remember Abigale,¡± he finished with a bitter tinge.


    I winced at his words as he finally stepped through the portal. I had the feeling that a reminder of the Denoir¡¯s old tutor would be like a slap in the face to any questions they might have.


    Are you ready for this, Toren? Aurora asked.


    Ready as I¡¯ll ever be, I thought with a sigh, before stepping through the portal.


    ¡ª


    I¡¯d made a distinct effort to touch up my appearance before approaching the Denoir Relictombs estate. I wore my nice maroon vest that prominently displayed the reforged sigil of Blood Daen on the breast and back. The symbol of a dagger through a flaming heart was accentuated by orange filigree running along the trim. The feathered brooch-shaped djinn relic was pinned on the opposite side, adding a splash of bronze.


    I wore dark, breathable slacks and a lighter dress shirt that was rimmed with orange lining. My strawberry-blonde hair was tied back into a short tail that barely reached my collar.


    Oath was sheathed at my side, but it was more for formality than anything else.


    I stared up at the tall metal gate that barred my path. A solid stone wall wrapped the entirety of the estate, blocking me from peering inward. And from the wards I could feel, they also dampened any attempted mana sense within. I palmed the golden insignia Sevren had handed me, then stepped forward and raised my hand to press a button that presumably acted as a sort of doorbell.


    And so I was startled when a voice came from the side of a mana-powered artifact, emanating out evenly. ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± a stoic male voice said. ¡°State your business with Highblood Denoir.¡±


    I blinked, focusing on the artifact that had emitted the noise. Beside it, I saw a glassy surface that reminded me of a security camera. Could it be?


    I held up Sevren¡¯s insignia to the glassy panel. ¡°I¡¯ve come on behalf of my friend, Sevren Denoir,¡± I said evenly. ¡°He needs me to retrieve a toolkit of his.¡±


    The speaker was silent for a second. ¡°Please wait for a moment, Lord Daen,¡± that same voice said again, though far more respectful this time. ¡°We shall send someone to fetch you.¡±


    I crossed my arms, waiting for a minute. Before long, a pair of mages left the estate, walking in steady strides towards the gate. I turned my head toward the door as I sensed two exceptionally powerful thrumming heartfires meandering their way toward the walls.


    I looked at the metal barring my path, hearing the thump-thump-thump of lifeforce beyond. The doors opened wide, revealing two mages waiting for me.


    A brute of a man stood head and shoulders taller than his companion. He had crimson hair cut choppily, and his face seemed perpetually set in a scowl. His sculpted shoulders looked like they took personal offense at the existence of doorways as a concept. A large mace was strapped to his side.


    The other man immediately seemed more welcoming than the mace-wielder. His brown hair was combed neatly back, and a thin sword rested leisurely at his waist.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the brown-haired swordsman said. ¡°My name is Arian, and this lug of a mage is Taegan. We¡¯re going to be escorting you inside, Lord Daen.¡±


    The two mages who guarded Caera on her ascents through the Relictombs, I thought as my lips evened out. I stepped forward. ¡°Is it standard procedure to send the strongest mages you have to escort someone to pick up a¡­¡± I fished in my pocket, for the paper Sevren had given me. Taegan visibly narrowed his eyes in suspicion, while the only reaction from Arian was for him to gently brush the pommel of his sword. When I retrieved the paper, Arian relaxed. ¡°A mana-tuned fluid resonance dissector toolkit?¡± I read aloud.


    I proffered the paper out to Arian, hoping he¡¯d see it as a sign of goodwill. For some reason, they seemed skeptical of me from the get-go.


    I¡¯ve been running around with their heir for months, I thought, And now I finally show up unannounced bearing his insignia. They might think I stole it from him.


    Arian took the paper with a nonchalant air, then skimmed over it, his eyebrows rising with every word. He looked back at me when he was done. ¡°Well, I can certainly say our friend Sevren Denoir wrote this,¡± he said with a hint of amusement, though he did not return the paper. ¡°Come on.¡±


    ¡°Could I have that back?¡± I asked firmly. It was my only insurance that proved Sevren had sent me to do this.


    Arian shrugged, then handed the paper back. ¡°We¡¯re going to need to see your weapon, though,¡± he said, his eyes darting to Oath at my side.


    I felt an instant flash of hesitation. Was I being corralled into some sort of hostage scenario?


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    It is merely for appearance¡¯s sake, Aurora assured me. You could have a wealth of weapons stashed in your dimension ring, yet they do not ask to search that.


    Always politics, I thought, unlatching my saber from my belt. I tossed it to Taegan, whose only facial expression seemed to be that of a man with a brick rammed up his behind. The striker caught it deftly, and his expression flickered with surprise as he felt the weight. He unsheathed it carefully, inspecting the pristine red edge: all except for that one, singular chip.


    ¡°You must take better care of your weapon, Broken Blade,¡± Taegan said gruffly, sheathing the sword. ¡°Basilisk blood alloys are rare.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± I said, thinking of the massive leviathan in the undead zone, ¡°No matter how well I maintained my weapon, it was going to come away with damage after what I put it through.¡±


    Taegan looked at me speculatively but didn¡¯t inquire further. He turned on his heel and began marching toward the estate, which I could now fully see with the gates opened. Arian followed after with me in tow.


    ¡°So, will one of you grab the¡­¡± I tested the words on my tongue, ¡°fluid dissector toolkit?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the brutish Taegan said. ¡°We will take you to the antechamber, and you will be made to wait for a long time.¡±


    I closed my eyes, exhaling my irritation. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be that simple, but it was nice to have confirmation anyway. ¡°You are a brutally honest person, aren¡¯t you?¡± I said sardonically.


    ¡°There is no such thing as brutal honesty,¡± Taegan retorted, not turning around. ¡°Only the truth.¡±


    ¡°I think that¡¯s a very reductive way to look at the truth,¡± I said, only half paying attention to the conversation. The courtyard around me was dotted with fountains, blossoming plants, and more.


    ¡°Taegan here has a bad habit of using his words like a sledgehammer when a chisel would be more effective,¡± Arian said diplomatically. Taegan glared daggers at his companion, but the swordsman seemed unphased. ¡°Though what he said was true. Those who come to meet Highblood Denoir are always made to wait.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t come to meet with Highblood Denoir,¡± I countered. ¡°Just to pick something up for a friend.¡±


    ¡°So you claim,¡± Arian said sympathetically. ¡°But on matters of the heir, it''s always forwarded to the top.¡±


    Fetch quests could never be simple, could they?


    ¡ª


    The antechamber was even more lavish than the courtyard outside. Paintings rimmed with gold and precious metals I couldn¡¯t identify lined the walls, and portraits of severe, olive-haired men and women watched my seat imperiously. Every single eye of the past Denoirs seemed to calculate my movements, holding them in internal balance.


    I turned a page in my book, Of Mana and Minds: An Argument For Consciousness and the Individual. I scribbled down a footnote at the bottom as I read over another paragraph. I was almost through with this book, and I¡¯d have to get another soon.


    I found myself increasingly disgruntled by the ideas put forward in this text. At heart, I was a staunch individualist, and that was what the author, Professor Acraten, claimed to champion as well.


    Yet his arguments for mana marking someone as what my layman¡¯s eyes viewed as an equivalent to Nietzsche¡¯s overman fell short when one took into account what could be done without mana.


    The Empire State Building dwarfed any structure built in Alacrya I¡¯d yet seen. People on Earth, without mana, had managed to become interconnected and thrive far beyond the mages of this world, even with their artifacts and godly abilities. It was clear that mana was not the end-all be-all of success and power for society.


    But how do I prove that to someone without using my otherworld knowledge as a crutch? I asked myself, tapping my pen against my chin.


    ¡°You are aware that you are being watched?¡± my bond said from my side, her phantom form looking over my shoulder at my writing.


    I know, I thought back. I could feel the eyes on me from several locations, but I suspected it was from remote viewing artifacts considering I couldn¡¯t sense any heartfire. Why do you think they¡¯re watching me so attentively?


    ¡°We both know you are an anomaly, Contractor,¡± my bond said with a demure smile. ¡°But as far as these highbloods are likely aware, you burned your ancient enemies to the ground, went on an ascent with their heir, then proceeded to make a deal with one of the strongest business conglomerates on the continent. And for the past few months, the Artificer has done nothing but stand by your side.¡± She paused. ¡°And they may know of your victory over the Retainer Mawar, though I find that prospect doubtful.¡±


    A man dressed in servant¡¯s finery opened the door at the end of the antechamber. ¡°Lenora Denoir will meet you now,¡± the man said with a curt bow.


    I snapped my book closed, withdrawing it into my dimension ring. I stood up, covertly working out the stiffness in my back. I¡¯d waited for twenty minutes before Lenora Denoir presumably realized this tactic wouldn¡¯t work on me. I¡¯d happily scribble in my book for another two hours.


    I followed after the servant through the doors. A simple meeting room spread before me. It was far less opulent than the antechamber outside.


    Lenora Denoir immediately drew the eye. Her brilliant hair¨Cthe exact same shade as her son¡¯s¨Cstood out like the only spot of white on a painted canvas. She had a practiced smile on her face as I stepped inside, and I recognized quickly that despite her supposed age, she held a casual beauty that I had no doubt she was aware of. She was dressed in a deep olive dress that had a conservative air about it.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said, nodding her head in respect. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a great deal about you.¡±


    In that instant, I remembered the teachings of Arlan, the aged Daen steward. Lenora Denoir was of a higher station than me: I should bow nearly at the waist.


    But then I thought of the book I¡¯d just finished annotating, where I¡¯d provided as many reasons as I could to substantiate the fact that all people were equal, regardless of their station.


    And the last time I¡¯d been forced to bow had been under the weight of Mardeth¡¯s killing intent.


    You are heir to the Will of the Asclepius, Aurora¡¯s voice feathered across my ears, the Unseen World no longer visible. You do not bow to these petty lords.


    I clasped my hands behind my back, settling for a respectful dip of my torso instead of a subservient prostration. Lenora¡¯s pristine white brow raised with an emotion I couldn¡¯t decipher. Was that disgust? Interest? Or amusement? Her face was a better mask than my own.


    ¡°I¡¯m flattered that the matron of Highblood Denoir has heard of me,¡± I said diplomatically. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid the reason I came here was not to take valuable time out of your day,¡± I tried. ¡°I was asked by a friend to retrieve some tools he needs from this estate.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± the Denoir matron said curiously, ¡°I¡¯d like to hear the story of how you became friends with Sevren,¡± she said with a knowing smile. ¡°Would you indulge a mother with stories of her wayward son?¡±


    Lenora strode toward a highbacked chair. Her eyes subtly compelled me to do the same to an opposing seat. While I walked toward the chair, I did not sit down. Lenora¡¯s eyes darkened imperceptibly as I refused to comply, leaving us both standing by our respective seats.


    My hands, which were clasped together behind my back, tightened slightly. ¡°Your son and I have been ascending partners for the past few months through the Relictombs. As time has gone on, I¡¯ve learned to trust my back to him. He¡¯s saved my life more than a few times, and I¡¯ve pulled him out of many dangerous situations as well.¡±


    Lenora nodded slowly, seeming to take it all in. As she did so, I considered what I knew of this woman from The Beginning After the End. The two perspectives I¡¯d been supplied had been from Arthur and Caera respectively. She portrayed herself as a brilliant political mind, working in a flowing tandem with her husband, Corbett. They worked as a mutual push and pull for the benefit of Highblood Denoir as a whole.


    So where is Corbett? I wondered absently. It was implied these two worked best as a team. Hammer and anvil.


    ¡°I have no doubt that the trials of the Relictombs forge the strongest of bonds between mages,¡± Lenora said sympathetically. ¡°In fact, that is how we hire our guards. You met Taegan and Arian, I¡¯m sure?¡±


    I nodded, thinking of Taegan calling me Broken Blade. That was better than being called Tiny Sword or Effeminate One, at least. ¡°I did make their acquaintance.¡±


    ¡°They were ascending partners long before they came under our wing, though the Relictombs are exceedingly dangerous. How is Sevren doing, anyway? Is he well? He doesn¡¯t speak to us much, you see.¡±


    I clenched my teeth. That might be because you offered up his tutor to the High Sovereign without a beat of hesitation, I thought, feeling sympathetic anger for my friend.


    But then I thought about Lenora¡¯s question. Is he well?


    I swallowed, my muscles tightening as I thought of the results of our infiltration of Mardeth¡¯s base. He was a machine, uncaring of what broke in the pursuit of his goals. His possessions, his arm, hell, even his own lifespan were merely another bit of fuel that could be thrown into the fire. And in retrospect, that had gotten even worse as I achieved more progression in my aetheric abilities.


    ¡°He¡¯s doing well,¡± I lied. ¡°He¡¯s been working on a personal project for a while that he is making real progress on. It¡¯s taken most of his time.¡±


    Lenora¡¯s eyes flashed as she caught my hesitation, yet she outwardly displayed no changes in expression. I found myself comparing her to Renea Shorn. While the owner of Bloodstone Elixirs never cared to hide her predatory nature, I felt as though Lenora layered her intentions underneath covers of sympathy and understanding.


    ¡°The agents of Highblood Denoir are always keeping track of our heir,¡± she started. ¡°It¡¯s protocol, you understand. He¡¯s been bouncing around the continent even more, lately. Specifically, Fiachra in Sehz-Clar, and a trip to Aensgar in Vechor. But we¡¯ve had some trouble keeping tabs on him since a little over a week ago.¡± The Denoir matron looked at me with a tilted head, her eyes projecting a picture of innocence that I immediately knew was false. ¡°And now you appear here, claiming to operate on his behalf. I believe you, of course, it''s just that my son has always come here himself. Do you know if anything¡¯s changed?¡±


    I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins. Why do I always fall into traps with powerful women? I internally lamented, trying to think of a good response. First Aurora. Then Renea Shorn. And now Lenora Denoir.


    I remembered the reason why Sevren didn¡¯t want to show his face here. If he appeared while missing an arm, Highblood Denoir would be able to wrench his ascender¡¯s badge away from him. He¡¯d be condemned to their plots once and for all, just as he¡¯d begun to achieve his goals.


    I took a deep breath, preparing to reply, when the door behind me swung open. Lenora¡¯s eyes widened in true surprise as she stared at someone behind me. I turned, feeling confused. I hadn¡¯t sensed any heartfire approaching. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A woman stood in the doorway, standing in a stance that looked like she was ready to delve right into a fight. Her attire was nothing like the Denoir matron across from me. Instead of a dress, she wore formfitting pants and clothes that seemed streamlined for combat. Long navy hair stretched to the midpoint of her back. Her face was flushed from exercise.


    ¡°Mother,¡± Caera Denoir said, her breath slightly uneven, ¡°I heard we have news from my brother.¡±

 Chapter 131: Hidden Horns

    Caera Denoir


    My eyes darted around the family meeting room, and I immediately felt a dash of dismay as I realized Sevren wasn¡¯t there. But someone else was meeting with Lenora.


    A lithe, handsome man in sleek, elegant clothing had turned to look at me with an inscrutable expression. My eyes caught on his well-groomed reddish-blonde locks, which were pulled back into a neat tail. There was a single streak of deep red that faded to an almost pinkish silver that wove through his hair. His eyes seemed to simmer like hot coals.


    On his breast was a sigil I recognized almost immediately: that of Named Blood Daen.


    Toren Daen, I quickly realized. He was the man reports said my brother had been accompanying for the past few months. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back, and from the set of his jaw, I imagined whatever talk he was having with Lenora was not going well.


    ¡°Ah, Caera,¡± Lenora said, feigning welcome. But I¡¯d known her long enough to sift through her mask to see her alarmed irritation at my intrusion. ¡°I was asking our guest about your brother, true. But right now¨C¡±


    Toren took that opportunity to quickly take something from his pocket. A piece of folded paper appeared in a blur, and he held it out to me. ¡°Lady Caera?¡± he said quickly, cutting Lenora off. ¡°Sevren¡¯s told me a lot about you. Your brother asked me to pick up a bit of the equipment he left behind. Do you know where this mana-tuned fluid resonance dissector toolkit can be found?¡±


    I took the paper from Toren hesitantly, reading the lettering. It was written in Sevren¡¯s dry tone and handwriting, and it described accurately where to find this toolkit. I chanced a look at Toren again. His eyes quietly asked for my help.


    ¡°I know where that toolkit is,¡± I said, taking a risk. ¡°If you follow me, I can take you to it,¡± I added, holding the paper to my chest. ¡°You can tell me what Sevren¡¯s said about me on the way. Deal?¡±


    Toren¡¯s eyes displayed quiet gratitude as moved toward me, distancing himself from my predatory adoptive mother.


    ¡°Caera, dear,¡± Lenora said sweetly, ¡°aren¡¯t you still preoccupied with your training? Do you have the time to do this?¡±


    I looked at my adoptive mother¡¯s pinched expression. By barging in, I¡¯d inadvertently ruined whatever trap she¡¯d maneuvered Lord Daen into, but that didn¡¯t mean she was going to let us go without a fight. ¡°My mentor left a while back,¡± I said diplomatically. Scythe Seris had left in a bit of a rush not long ago, leaving me tired and worn from our sparring. She¡¯d claimed she needed to speak to Corbett about something critical, but that wasn¡¯t important right now. ¡°And I heard from Taegan and Arian that something related to my brother came up. So I came here to see if there was anything I could do, and it seems I can,¡± I said, turning slightly and gesturing to Toren with the paper. He began to follow me, but Lenora raised a hand holding a sealed envelope.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said with a hint of concealed exasperation, ¡°I believe you¡¯ll appreciate this,¡± she continued, handing him the letter. A wax stamp of Highblood Denoir kept the letter closed. ¡°I hope we can talk again. It takes a lot to gain the interest of my son, so I hope you understand my own intentions in offering this invitation.¡±


    Toren reluctantly pocketed the letter, bowing ever-so-slightly. ¡°Thank you, Highlady Denoir,¡± he said. I saw Lenora¡¯s interest in how little respect he deferred to her. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll read this soon.¡±


    Lenora looked at me with a bit of disappointment as I led Lord Daen out of the meeting room. We both knew I had a bit of a problem with respecting her authority, but this was the first time I¡¯d abruptly barged in on a meeting with another Blooded representative and hijacked her discussions.


    ¡°She¡¯s going to have a long talk with me later,¡± I muttered absently as I walked through the halls of my family¡¯s estate.


    ¡°As long as I¡¯m not involved,¡± Toren said sympathetically from my side. As I¡¯d just left my combat training, I was abnormally attuned to minute body language. I watched as the long-haired mage¡¯s shoulders visibly loosened and his hands unclenched, though there was still a steady alertness to his posture that told me he was a trained fighter. ¡°Thank you for the help, Lady Caera. Your brother warned me this would happen, but it seems I¡¯ll never learn without experience. I¡¯m Toren of Named Blood Daen, by the way,¡± he said, offering a hand. I noticed the start of a deep maroon chain inked along his palm.


    ¡°Caera Denoir,¡± I said, though I didn¡¯t offer my own hand. ¡°Sorry for not shaking your hand. I¡¯ve just gotten out of training and I don¡¯t think you¡¯d appreciate getting my sweat all over your lavish clothes. How is Sevren doing, by the way?¡± I paused nervously. ¡°He hasn¡¯t been back here much lately. We get worried.¡±


    I knew Lenora and my brother¡¯s relationship wasn¡¯t the best, but she still worried for him. I suspected she¡¯d been trying to get more detailed information out of Lord Daen before I¡¯d arrived, and in typical Lenora fashion, had treated Lord Daen like a Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel piece rather than someone worth talking to.


    Toren retracted his hand as we walked, and a strange expression crossed his sharp features. ¡°You mean he hasn¡¯t been visiting?¡± he said, sounding skeptical.


    I sighed. ¡°The last time he visited was a few months ago after a particularly long and dangerous ascent.¡± Sevren had come back, seeming half mad from enthusiasm, telling me he¡¯d made progress. He didn¡¯t elaborate, no matter how much I asked. And I hadn¡¯t seen him since. ¡°All I¡¯ve gotten are reports I¡¯ve managed to wheedle out of my family. Your name came up in most of those, I¡¯ll have you know.¡±


    Toren rubbed his face with a hand. ¡°So it was after our first ascent he came here last, then?¡± he said mutely. ¡°I know he¡¯s not the most sociable person, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Is that how you became friends?¡± I found myself asking, paying close attention to Toren as we turned down a hallway. ¡°By ascending together?¡± My brother was irritatingly sparse on details of what he was doing in the Relictombs, no matter what I tried. It drove me halfway insane how he avoided talking to me. But maybe I could learn more from this ascender.


    Toren¡¯s smile held a hidden story. ¡°He saved my life a few times, and I helped him out of more than one rough spot,¡± he said, though I had the feeling he wasn¡¯t telling me everything. ¡°After a while, I found myself in the privileged position of being his friend.¡±


    I worked my tongue in my mouth, slowing my pace slightly to give myself more time to talk. ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve been doing?¡± I asked. ¡°Going on ascents together? I¡¯ve heard a lot about you, but not much.¡±


    And most of the reports on Toren Daen I¡¯d managed a glance at were second-hand information. He had a habit of scaring off anyone who tried to covertly approach him with his power.


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t all we¡¯ve been doing,¡± Toren said honestly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard a bit about me from the reports, but Sevren¡¯s been helping me navigate dipping into politics. And now¡­¡±


    The Daen mage stopped in the hallway. He seemed to visibly hesitate, contemplating his next words. I looked at him with a frown on my face, feeling a creeping foreboding inching up my spine. I felt a subtle wash of mana as Toren clenched his hand, a spell passing over us.


    ¡°I¡¯ve raised a sound barrier,¡± Toren said with a sigh. ¡°Sevren needs this toolkit for something big he and I are working on together. Something that has huge stakes at play. He¡¯s managed to get a hold of a dangerous substance that he needs to dissect.¡±


    I felt my breath catch. When Sevren had last visited, he hadn¡¯t said much, but I could fill in the details. He¡¯d made progress in his pursuit of aether. And considering his one-track accompaniment of this mage in front of me, did that mean that they¡¯d managed some sort of breakthrough together?


    I had so many questions rolling in my head, the implications piling up. But the next words Toren said took the breath from my lungs.


    ¡°And I didn¡¯t tell your adoptive mother this,¡± Toren said slowly, ¡°Yet she was able to pick up on my hesitance about it. But I think if anyone has a right to know, it¡¯s you.¡± He looked at me, his eyes like hot coals holding mine like a vice. ¡°Sevren was hurt badly in our most recent outing. He¡¯s recovered¡­ fine, by now, but it¡¯s permanent. I came here because he couldn¡¯t afford to see your adoptive parents. He¡¯d lose the protections he relies on so much.¡±


    My questions about aether and the intricacies of the Relictombs fled my mind at Toren¡¯s words. I imagined my brother broken and hurt; camped out in some inn or in a field. I leaned against the wall for support. ¡°Is he¡­¡± I swallowed. ¡°Does he need medical attention?¡±


    Toren raised a hand, and his fingers flickered with a strange sort of light. It shifted between hues of fuchsia and magenta, splashed through with streaks of deep orange. The color of a waxing dawn. ¡°He doesn¡¯t need medical attention. He¡¯s had the best medical care possible,¡± the mage said, snuffing out the strange light. ¡°But he won¡¯t be able to avoid this indefinitely.¡± He paused, finding his words. ¡°I thought someone should know beyond myself, and¡­ I know how close you two are.¡±


    I breathed in sharply. Toren was closer to my brother than I¡¯d expected if Sevren had told him any details about our relationship. Yet I felt woozy and uncertain, questioning what would happen next. I forced myself to straighten, turning to continue walking down the hall.


    Why won¡¯t Sevren talk to me? I thought angrily. I hadn¡¯t even heard from him in months. And the only way I learned he¡¯d been hurt was through somebody else! Did he think I couldn¡¯t handle it?


    ¡°What is this substance that my brother is working with?¡± I asked quietly, trying to find some reason for all this.


    The Daen mage was quiet as a grave. As my feet took us subconsciously to Sevren¡¯s old room, I turned back to him, inspecting his visible hesitance.


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    Is it about aether? I wondered. I opened my mouth to finally voice the question that had been stinging the back of my throat for what felt like an age.


    ¡°Hey, Caera,¡± a voice said from ahead, snapping me out of my thoughts. ¡°What¡¯re you doing with our honored guest?¡±


    I turned with surprise to see Sevren¡¯s brother, Lauden. His olive hair was in characteristic disarray, and he had a carefree smile on his face.


    He was standing inside Sevren¡¯s doorway, blocking our way inside. Further down the hall, Taegan and Arian watched apprehensively.


    ¡°Lauden,¡± I said stiffly. My other adoptive brother had always been loose and dismissive of his duties, especially as Corbett and Lenora tried to saddle him with more in the absence of Sevren. We rarely talked, and when we did, he had a quiet mocking to his voice. ¡°I¡¯m escorting Sevren¡¯s friend to pick up something,¡± I said, feeling nervous. ¡°Could you step away from the door for a second?¡±


    But Lauden was already focusing on Toren Daen, piercing eyes boring into the sigil on his vest. ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± the second-born Denoir said with a tone that was almost rude. ¡°It¡¯s about time you showed up here.¡±


    Toren narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping forward. ¡°Lauden Denoir,¡± he said, then tried to peer past the man into Sevren¡¯s room.


    Lauden shifted to block his line of sight. ¡°It¡¯s proper etiquette to bow when in the presence of a highblood,¡± he said. ¡°And considering you¡¯re only a Named Blood¨C¡±


    Toren slowly focused on the man blocking the doorway. ¡°I¡¯m the head of my house,¡± he annunciated slowly, ¡°While you are the second-born of a highblood lord. Our stations aren¡¯t as different as you assume.¡±


    Lauden chuckled, though it was strained. I finally took a step forward, unwilling to let a conflict escalate in this estate. ¡°Look, Lauden,¡± I tried, ¡°we just need to grab a toolkit from Sevren¡¯s room and we can¨C¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always someone scraping against the boots of their betters,¡± Lauden said, cutting me off as he forced a smile. ¡°Seeing as this one¡¯s been clinging to the coattails of our absent brother, don¡¯t you think it strange that he shows up here all of a sudden?¡± he said, turning his nose up at me. ¡°So why are you following my brother around, Lord Daen?¡±


    I ground my teeth in annoyance at the casual dismissal of my words, but Toren didn¡¯t seem phased. ¡°Your brother and I became friends while ascending in the Relictombs,¡± he said slowly. ¡°And he¡¯s attended my concerts a couple of times. I can assure you, I haven¡¯t asked anything of your family at all. We just need the fluid toolkit in the room behind you.¡±


    Lauden narrowed his eyes. ¡°And where is my brother?¡± he asked sharply. ¡°Still avoiding the house and his responsibilities?¡± he sniffed, but I sensed something deeper there.


    I thought about Toren¡¯s earlier admission to me. That Sevren was hurt in a way that made it difficult to show his face. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this,¡± I said irritatedly, shoving my way past Lauden. I pushed myself into Sevren¡¯s old room, desperately looking around the messy collage for the toolkit I knew was here. My eyes darted to where I¡¯d last seen it, but it was gone.


    I whirled, putting two and two together instantly. In Lauden¡¯s outstretched hand, a case materialized from his dimension ring. I ground my teeth as I recognized the toolkit in his hands.


    ¡°For Vritra¡¯s sake, Lauden,¡± I cursed, marching back toward him. ¡°Could you be any more of an ass?¡±


    To his credit, my adoptive brother seemed to hesitate, a spark of something more in his eyes before they hardened. ¡°No. If Lord Daen wants what belongs to my brother, he¡¯s going to have to take it from my hand.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what this is?¡± Toren asked with a sigh. ¡°You want to spar me?¡± Lord Daen¡¯s hands were in the pockets of his dress pants, and he looked utterly nonchalant.


    Lauden¡¯s eyes flashed with a challenge as he looked back at Toren, the case held leisurely at his side. ¡°I was never granted the privilege of ascending with our brother,¡± he said. ¡°I want to see what makes you so special.¡± S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I barely had time to process my adoptive brother¡¯s words before my blood churned. It warped in reaction to something as I suddenly felt an almost instinctive urge to use my hidden soulfire. My horns¨Chidden by the artifact gifted to me by my mentor, Seris¨Csuddenly felt an uncomfortable flash. I fought down the urge with an effort of will, feeling disoriented by the sudden need. I stood ramrod straight, my head snapping to where I felt the sensation.


    Toren¡¯s face was quietly contemplative. Calculating. I couldn¡¯t feel any mana emanating from him, but¡­ My Vritra blood writhed as he stared quietly at Lauden. Like it perceived something I could not. I looked toward Taegan and Arian in the distance, and they didn¡¯t seem to notice what I somehow did.


    I reached out an arm in warning, but it all happened in barely an instant.


    Two flashes of deep white fuzzed into existence around Lauden¡¯s hand, flaring with the barest force of mana. They targeted two points on his wrist, moving with a snap of pressure that forced his fingers open as the hand bent awkwardly. Lauden yelped as the case ripped itself free of his grip, outlined in a shimmering white as it guided itself to Toren¡¯s palm.


    Taegan and Arian burst forward with weapons drawn, but Toren ignored them as they leveled their weapons at him from barely a foot away. Lauden grunted as he cradled what looked like a broken hand.


    Toren ignored the humming mace of Taegan and the blurring sword of Arian pointed at his side. He knelt, looking at Lauden as he cursed over his wrist.


    ¡°Here¡¯s something your reports probably didn¡¯t say,¡± he said. ¡°I am a lot stronger than your brother. And if Sevren is the metric you¡¯re using to gauge me, then you are light years off.¡±


    Lauden groaned. ¡°What the fuck is a light year?¡± he said, rubbing his wrist. ¡°And did you have to break it?¡±


    ¡°It was the most surefire way to get that toolkit from you without pounding your face into the dirt in a sparring ring,¡± Toren said honestly. He proffered a hand, seeming unphased by the bludgeon poised to cave in his skull and Arian¡¯s razor-sharp sword. ¡°Mind if I see that?¡±


    Lauden blinked, then offered his wrist to Toren. He only seemed to recognize what he¡¯d done a moment after, fear flashing over his face, but Toren shook his head. ¡°Give it a second,¡± he said, that orange-purple light from before flaring between his fingers.


    Lauden¡¯s face shifted from fear to surprise as the light seeped over his wrist.


    ¡°What are you doing to the second-born, Broken Sword?¡± Taegan barked angrily, leveraging his mace threateningly. He seemed hesitant to risk breaking off whatever spell Toren was performing.


    I watched it, mute with awe. The others didn¡¯t figure it out yet, but¡­


    ¡°He¡¯s had the best medical care possible,¡± Toren had said not a few minutes ago as he showed off that strange light.


    ¡°It¡¯s not broken,¡± Toren exhaled. ¡°It was sprained. Test it now,¡± he commanded, retracting his hand.


    Lauden worked his wrist, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Toren stood, pushing Taegan¡¯s massive mace away from his face with the flat of his palm. ¡°I¡¯ve got what Sevren needed,¡± he said, meeting the massive striker¡¯s eyes. ¡°Want to escort me out?¡±


    For once, Taegan seemed utterly unsure of what to do next. The crimson-haired man looked down at Lauden, who slowly nodded. ¡°Escort Lord Daen to the gates,¡± he said tiredly, still moving his wrist with obvious wonder. ¡°And give him back his weapon, too.¡±


    Taegan¡¯s mouth opened, closed, and then he simply huffed with anger. He marched off, Toren following behind after a respectful nod to me.


    My mind was left awhirl with questions. There were three aspects of aether: spatium, aevum, and vivum.


    And what did vivum deal with? Life. The creation of it, maintenance of it, and more. Sevren had told me this before. But there was something else a part of the edict, too.


    Healing.


    You found someone who can manipulate aether, didn¡¯t you, Sevren? I thought as the pieces came together. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve been following Toren Daen around for so long. That¡¯s why you said you had a breakthrough.


    The pulsing in my horns slowly diminished as Toren walked away, but that was inconsequential to the discovery I¡¯d just realized. I stayed rooted to the spot, the implications of it all bouncing around in my skull. Was he an ancient mage? A descendent of them, perhaps? Or had he¨C


    ¡°That is the last time I follow Mother¡¯s orders,¡± Lauden said, slumping to the floor and thumping his head against the wall. ¡°I think I¡¯m due a drink after that wogartshit.¡±


    Lauden¡¯s words snapped my mind out of its downward spiral. ¡°What?¡± I said, blinking as I looked at my adoptive brother.


    ¡°Mother told me to try and start a fight with the man,¡± he said tiredly. ¡°Something about trying to get a measure of his strength in the dueling ring. I think she thought if I beat him, we could force him into our service or something. Maybe offer him ways to get stronger if he were indebted to us. I really can¡¯t guess. You know how she is about politics.¡±


    My mouth gaped at the admission. ¡°Lenora did what?¡± I said, raising my voice a bit louder than intended.


    Lauden winced, but it was Arian who spoke up next. ¡°Or if he beat you, we could also bind him into a contract, too, by claiming malfeasance,¡± he said with a huff. ¡°Which, according to reports, was the most likely outcome.¡±


    Lauden flushed. ¡°She expected me to lose to that upstart Named Blood?¡±


    At my pointed glance at his hand, Lauden scoffed. ¡°Please, Caera! He got me by surprise. If we¡¯d been in a real duel, I would have wiped the floor with him.¡± He twisted his wrist absently.


    Arian¡¯s lips drew to a thin line.


    ¡°What?¡± Lauden demanded, seeing the mage¡¯s skepticism.


    ¡°He was able to sense Taegan and me through the wards outside the walls,¡± he said slowly. ¡°He turned to look at us the moment we started walking toward him. All the way from the estate building to the gate. He was aware we were coming.¡±


    I blinked, and Lauden blanched. Those were the best wards money could buy. They obstructed mana inside on a level that would make even the Scythes jealous, giving everyone inside a level of privacy that was rare. And if Toren could pierce through those so casually?


    ¡°Oh,¡± Lauden said a bit stupidly, looking down at his hand. ¡°You don¡¯t think he was bluffing when he said he was stronger than Sevren,¡± he added, seeming to realize just what sort of situation he¡¯d avoided. Lauden had always pushed himself to be a match to his brother in strength, yet we both knew he wasn¡¯t there yet.


    ¡°And there is information only Corbett and Lenora know,¡± Arian continued, looking down the hallway toward where Toren had just left. ¡°Something about Toren clashing with the Doctrination in Fiachra. I¡¯ve only heard rumors, but that¡¯s what really sparked their interest in him.¡±


    Lauden sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll split that drink Mother owes me with that asshole,¡± he said. ¡°Now that dear Mother and Father have their sights set on him, he¡¯s like a wogart in a pen. Poor bastard.¡±


    ¡°And even if you didn¡¯t manage to spar him,¡± I said, feeling a rush of something cold in my stomach, ¡°You got to witness something even more amazing when he fixed your hand.¡±


    Healing spellforms existed, but they were incredibly rare: nearly one in every ten thousand mages managed to awaken a spellform that could effectively regenerate another¡¯s wounds. That was likely what Corbett and Lenora would suspect had happened. They¡¯d jump at the chance to have a personal healing mage, and the speed and seeming efficiency of Lauden¡¯s treatment would make his spellform regalia-level.


    If his spell used mana, that is.


    I needed to have a talk with Sevren, and soon. If aether could not fix whatever had hurt him, what in the High Sovereign¡¯s name had he done to himself?

 Chapter 132: A Ball

    Toren Daen


    I took Oath back from the bulky Taegan as I reached the edge of the estate walls. He seemed reluctant to hand me my weapon, more from general wariness than any sort of greed.


    ¡°I have been ordered to tell you that the Matron Denoir wishes you the best in your future endeavors,¡± he said brusquely, ¡°And that she hopes you will accede to her offer.¡±


    It took me a moment to recognize what the crimson-haired man referenced by ¡®offer.¡¯ My hand subconsciously patted the sealed envelope in my vest pocket where I¡¯d hastily stashed it. ¡°I will,¡± I said courteously, before finally extricating myself from the walls.


    I looked up at the empty sky, sighing in a mixture of relief and agitation.


    How well did I handle myself in that meeting? I asked internally. I¡¯m certain I misstepped somehow, but your input is what made it possible for me to face these kinds of things at all.


    The Unseen World washed over me, coating the vibrant light of the sunless Relictombs sky in a murky mist. ¡°When meeting with Highlady Denoir, you conducted yourself well for one so inexperienced,¡± she said. ¡°You maintained a respectful and even air throughout, never saying too much or too little, all the while staying focused on your ultimate goal instead of letting her pull you along. Though it would have been more advantageous to smother your anxiety and tension to her eyes. We both know she felt a level of wariness speaking with you. It emanated in wisps over her intent, yet that was the only outward display you could decipher of her true thoughts. It gave her leverage over you. Power.¡±


    I sighed as I plodded down the well-maintained streets of the upper-class highblood estate area of the Relictombs. It¡¯s hard for me to smother my emotions, I admitted. Especially as I¡¯ve grown into my intent-based music and grown more adept at empathizing with others to heal. Putting up a mask becomes difficult.


    The irony of the situation was not lost on me. My personality drifted toward genuine honesty, but my entire presence in Alacrya and the secrets I held constituted a larger lie than any others could comprehend.


    Aurora¡¯s shade hummed. ¡°Ultimately, there was no simple way to avoid the glaring question of the Denoir heir¡¯s absence. And Lenora Denoir treated you, if not as an outright adversary, then certainly as an opponent in a contest of wills. That you responded in turn is not innately wrong.¡± The ghostly phoenix looked at me intently. ¡°Though I question if it was a wise decision to heal the wrist of the second-born son.¡±


    I haven¡¯t been sparing in displaying my aetheric healing abilities, I responded, turning down a mostly empty street. Here and there, guards patrolled the walkways and mages walked in pairs. I seemed to be the only one out and about alone. I wasn¡¯t heading in any particular direction. Eventually, I¡¯d need to work my way through the Relictombs to reach the Town Zone again to deliver Sevren¡¯s toolkit, but I needed time to process this most recent encounter. Some spellforms can enable someone to heal others, though they¡¯re exceedingly rare. More rare than emitters are on Dicathen, I suspect. Those who witnessed my abilities will likely suspect that to be the cause.


    I wondered about the lack of powerful healing magic in Alacrya. Many spellforms granted mildly enhanced regeneration, but the healing of others was a rare, rare gift.


    Is the djinnic blood in the people of Alacrya more diluted than it is on Dicathen? I wondered, recalling what allowed healing mages to operate on the other continent. Or is the Vritra lineage in most humans somehow clashing with the peaceful nature of the djinn¡¯s blood?


    My Phoenix Will and former basilisk blood had been less ¡®water and oil¡¯ and more ¡®water and alkali metals.¡¯ I wondered if a similar reaction occurred that denied Alacrya the development of emitters.


    That train of thought brought me back to my confrontation with Lauden Denoir. Outwardly, he was cocky and brash, but his intent blazed with discomfort and reluctance. Lenora was able to subconsciously reign in her effects on the ambient mana to a degree, but her son was not so practiced.


    ¡°He was likely put up to the task of engaging you in a fight,¡± Aurora said, watching a boar-like mana beast pull an elaborate carriage down the road. The insignia of a highblood I didn¡¯t recognize was emblazoned in a bright blue color. ¡°Another covert political ploy.¡± S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was why I moved to end the confrontation before it could be brought to an actual sparring ring, I acknowledged, stepping out of the way of the boar-like beast. I was able to get the toolkit and leave without being forced into some sort of duel.


    ¡°And you satiated their desire to understand your abilities by displaying your healing prowess,¡± Aurora said with a hint of pride. ¡°So they would not pursue the issue further.¡±


    I coughed into my fist. Yeah. That¡¯s what I was trying to do.


    My bond looked at me with a raised orange brow, sensing my embarrassment. ¡°That wasn¡¯t the point of it at all,¡± she said, sounding more amused than disappointed.


    I sprained the man¡¯s hand in his own home after he was probably set up to fight me, where I would have probably broken a whole lot more of his bones had it played out, I thought to my bond, wincing internally. I felt like kind of a dick for leaving him like that.


    Aurora¡¯s shade sighed in exasperation, though there was no heat in it. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have bonded you if you were not an empathetic man, Toren,¡± she said with a huff. ¡°But¡­ I need to ask something.¡±


    I slowed to a halt in my walk, looking intently at my bond. She had a look of deep concentration on her dusky purple face as she visibly measured her words.


    ¡°You said that Caera Denoir was one of the great points of view for The Beginning After the End,¡± she said slowly, her melodic voice becoming something more intentionally monotone in its seriousness. ¡°That she was one of the great observers of this world¡¯s eventual course. I need to ask: is she as you expected? Does she do credence to your knowledge?¡±


    I let the question churn in my mind for a long time. Aurora was still coming to terms with the source of my future knowledge. Not so much that it had come from a novel, but from the existential questions posed by the fact that someone had put her world to the pen.We both asked ourselves how our Fates were destined to go, or if there was a point to all of this. And I wasn¡¯t sure how my answer would be received.


    I¡¯m not entirely sure, I thought after a moment. Caera was depicted with a rebellious streak against her adoptive parents, and I took advantage of her interruption on the assumption she would chafe against Lenora Denoir¡¯s schemes. The Batman gambit played out as expected, but¨C


    Aurora raised a hand, interrupting me. ¡°I do not know what a ¡®Batman gambit¡¯ is, Contractor,¡± she said, the words as serious as if they were uttered by the Dark Knight himself.


    Despite the grim circumstances, I chuckled lightly at the irony only I would ever understand. A Batman gambit is a plan that revolves entirely around people acting as you expect them to. Like exploiting a flaw or character trait and having someone dig their own grave through hubris. Or in more simple situations, expecting a rebellious adopted daughter to push against authority and playing into it. I shook my head. Regardless, just because I read about a character on a page doesn¡¯t mean I fully understand them.


    I felt myself fingering my dimension ring, my thoughts drifting to all the comments I¡¯d scribbled on the side of Of Mana and Minds. Words on a page could never truly encapsulate all a person was thinking and feeling. Books showed fleeting glimpses: important glimpses, true, but it was not a supplement for true understanding.


    The understanding I gained of all the people of this world, I started slowly, saying the words as they came to my mind, Is like a man¡¯s understanding of the world if he only viewed the shadows people cast, I said, thinking of the famous hypothetical of Plato¡¯s Cave. I¡¯ve got the inklings of what people think and feel, and maybe that¡¯s quite substantial knowledge.


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    I looked down at my hands. Caera¡¯s intent was well-masked by her control of power and the cloaking artifact she used to hide her horns, I thought, But those bare instances of emotion I caught over the web of ambient energy were so much more real than any words I¡¯ve read.


    Especially when she spoke of Sevren¡¯s absence. I could almost taste the pain and loneliness she felt as he left her in the Denoir estate, trapped like a songbird in a cage that desperately thrived for freedom. Words on a page simply could not compare.


    And Sevren, I thought, my mind truly wandering now. Sevren can¡¯t afford to keep himself away from his family.


    I¡¯d recognized the signs, but only when Caera told me of his absence did I truly put the pieces together of what was happening. Sevren was withdrawing himself emotionally from everything that he was fighting for so desperately. And now that he¡¯d lost an arm, he had more than enough justification to lock himself away in the Town Zone to research and test until he burned the rest of his body to ash on the pyre of progress. After all, the Denoir heir¨Cwho already despised highblood society¨Cwould be far more content to conduct his research in the safety of the Relictombs.


    I needed to get him to meet his sister again. So he could remember that there were things worth experiencing outside the shelter of the Tombs.


    ¡°I suppose, under the light you provided,¡± Aurora said contemplatively, ¡°Your knowledge of the future is not nearly as intimate as I once believed.¡± An unseen breeze caressed her beautiful red locks. ¡°I find myself regularly thrust into the unknown these past months I¡¯ve been your bond. For the longevity I have known, it is a thrilling¨Cif at times uncomfortable¨Cexperience.¡±


    I huffed through my nose, finally beginning to walk again as my thoughts evened out. I put my hand into my vest pocket, withdrawing the letter Lenora Denoir had given me. The insignia of Highblood Denoir stood out ominously on the wax seal.


    Speaking of new experiences, I thought to my bond as my fingers brushed the wax, I think whatever is in here will certainly be another one.


    Aurora stared over my shoulder as I broke the deep red seal, pulling open the envelope. Inside was a simple folded letter written in immaculate script.


    To Toren of Named Blood Daen, It started, then went through a formal introduction and well-wishing. I scanned over the words until I reached the meat of the message.


    The monthly Denoir Ball is fast approaching. While these affairs are always more than lavish and attended by the highest of Alacryan nobility, word has reached us of your fantastic musical talents.


    For a negotiable sum, we would like to contract your unique style of music to be played during our ball. Attached are preliminary offers that may entice you to attend.


    I sifted over the rest of the words, finally reaching the signature of Corbett Denoir at the bottom.


    I furrowed my brow. The Denoirs wanted me to play at one of their regular balls?


    My first instinctual reaction was to ignore it. There was absolutely some other motive hidden within this swooping ink that I didn¡¯t have the context to understand. I¡¯d just managed to avoid one political entanglement. Why would I throw myself right into another?


    But as I thought about it more¡­


    I caught on a familiar scent that made me freeze in place, the floral accents tickling my nose. It was a low, sweet undertone that held a hint of venomous bite.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± Renea Shorn said, the mossy-haired Xander trailing at her heels as a guard. The dark-haired owner of Bloodstone Elixirs looked me up and down slowly, inspecting me with piercing intent. ¡°I did not expect to meet you here. I haven¡¯t heard of you since your abrupt exit from the Crimson Pool Theater.¡±


    She said it as half a question and half a statement. There was a probing, yet formal inquiry into how I had been faring.


    I took a deep breath. Memories of my last meeting with Renea Shorn¨Cwhere I was almost certain she¡¯d maneuvered me to play my violin in Aensgar on purpose to get me close to Mardeth¨Cpushed to the forefront of my mind.


    Her motives may be more complex than most of the selfish political figures I¡¯ve met, I thought, But her methods are the same.


    I smiled almost against my own will as I locked eyes with the woman, though there was a strain to the edges of my lips. ¡±I¡¯ve been traipsing around Alacrya in my off time,¡± I said, trying to restrain my clashing wariness and fondness. I chanced a glance around me, noticing that none were close enough to hear. ¡°And clashing with a mutual enemy.¡±


    My wariness was more prominent in that last sentence. Renea Shorn clearly understood my not-so-subtle implication if the barest flex of her pale jaw was any indication. We stood there awkwardly, the metaphorical iron hyrax in the room keeping us at an impasse.


    I sighed at last, running a weary hand over my face. ¡°I managed to escape from his base without a direct confrontation.¡± I threw up a hand, enclosing our tiny group in a sound barrier. I looked at Xander, who stood awkwardly at Renea Shorn¡¯s heels. If I were feeling unnerved, he must be in excruciating discomfort.


    Sensing my silent question, Renea nodded. ¡°He is privy to this aspect of my work,¡± she said, dropping the thinly veiled pretense.


    ¡°I was accompanied by both Mawar and Sevren Denoir to his base. Sevren managed to get a sample of what Mardeth is working on concocting, and he¡¯s picking it apart with his unique talents,¡± I said slowly, flexing my hand in suppressed anger. ¡°But he was permanently hurt in the process. Beyond what I could heal.¡±


    ¡°That is a good outcome,¡± Renea said with pinched brows, ¡°is it not? Yet you seem conflicted,¡± she probed.


    ¡°I was maneuvered into place like a piece on a board, Renea,¡± I said bluntly, my anger at Mardeth tainting my tone. ¡°Even if we both acknowledge that it was to my own benefit, that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I was a Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel piece. And I don¡¯t even know if I succeeded in what you wanted me to do there. I know I¡¯m naive in some ways, yet I thought that our agreement to work together would put me beyond these things.¡±


    Renea¡¯s lips thinned to a line. ¡°What are you asking of me, Lord Daen?¡± she said formally. ¡°Even my closest allies do not know the depths of my plans and how I hope to maneuver. Are you saying you wish to be so close?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I just want honesty, Renea,¡± I said with a tired sigh. Nothing was ever simple in this world, true, but so many strides could be made if people just said what they felt. ¡°If you¡¯re going to try and drop me in front of Mardeth again, tell me exactly what you need me to do. Even if you can¡¯t tell me everything. We¡¯re working toward a common goal, theoretically. I¡¯d be more than happy to sever that accursed vicar¡¯s head from his shoulders, even if you put me in the exact position I need to be. As long as I¡¯m told that it¡¯s happening. Could you promise me that?¡±


    Renea clasped her hands in front of her. She took a few steps closer to me, seeming unsure of the distance. ¡°You called the weapons I had crafted for you Oath and Promise,¡± she started, ¡°Claiming that you broke one of each before their acquisition.¡± The sky tried to cast her pale face in shadow. ¡°You value your word, don¡¯t you Toren?¡±


    ¡°Our ability to keep promises is what separates us from beasts,¡± I said, thinking of Trelza¡¯s hardened words. He was right about that. Some monsters could talk, but you could tell them apart from the humans nearby when they broke their word. ¡°The greatest thing language allows is honesty between people.¡±


    Renea hummed contemplatively. ¡°I disagree with you, Toren,¡± she said, tilting her head. ¡°The greatest thing language allows is understanding. But perhaps honesty is an offshoot of that.¡± She visibly hesitated. ¡°I promise you that I will be honest in what I am doing to maneuver you,¡± she said quietly. She looked up at me, something dreadfully uncertain in those eyes of hers.


    I took another step forward, finally closing the distance. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said in a low voice. As I looked at Renea¡¯s expression, I wondered what she thought she¡¯d given away.


    I placed the letter Lenora had given me into Renea¡¯s hands. She looked at it critically, then gauged me with a raised brow. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten an invitation to be the musician at the Denoir ball,¡± I said, ¡°And considering you¡¯re essentially the one who¡¯s been managing my venues, I figure it would be good to have your input on this as well.¡±


    Renea nodded slowly. ¡°These are not matters for the open street,¡± she said. ¡°Perhaps we should discuss this over tea once more?¡± she prodded with an inviting curl of her red lips.


    ¡°Lead the way,¡± I said.


    Renea nodded, then strode past me with purpose. I watched her walk with a fondness that settled in my veins.


    ¡°I do not like her,¡± Aurora said, her emotions the polar opposite of my own. ¡°I implore you to be more cautious. As you did earlier, utilize your mind. Not your heart.¡±


    I frowned, feeling unsettled by my bond¡¯s venom. I know you expressed dislike of her for her manipulations before, I thought, following after Renea with steps that suddenly felt a lot more hesitant. Yet we¡¯ve resolved that just now, haven¡¯t we?


    My bond was silent for a long, long time. ¡°Do you know how Agrona talks to you?¡± she whispered.


    I felt myself pale as I nearly missed a step. What?


    ¡°I was not always the High Sovereign¡¯s prisoner,¡± Aurora said with a low heat in her voice. ¡°He¡¯s open about what he is. He is a manipulator. A game player. The top of the board. But when you speak to him, you feel as if he is on your side. Things will work out in your favor through his actions. You might not see how, but that¡¯s how it is. You live in this perpetual fantasy that he can manage things himself. And if a boundary is crossed that you cannot stand for, then he will weave his words to show how things will be different next time. You believe him, of course. How could you not? And then next time comes.¡±


    I caught the implications immediately, yet my bond continued on, releasing a knot of tension she¡¯d carried since I¡¯d met her. ¡°And when you protest once more, his words convince you that you are the one at fault. He could not have wronged you. It is simply your misinterpreted, small-minded sense. And once you protest again, and he has no more use for you, then there is no more pretense. You are locked away where nobody can see you, and he will tell all those who miss you that it was a result of your own hubris all along.¡±


    The asuran shade turned to look at me in full. The gaping void over her heart bled anew, seeping into her martial robes. Those eyes of hers dimmed to the light of a dead star. ¡°Renea Shorn moves like Agrona.¡±

 Chapter 133: Wasting

    Sevren Denoir


    I walked through the strange house, passing the many tables of equipment I¡¯d set up since I¡¯d begun shifting my operations to this static Town Zone of the Relictombs. I weaved around a mana-attribute detecting device, then stepped over the cords for an ambient power system. Within the center of a swirling collage of metal and wires, the beast core of a winddraw anthradov hovered.


    While alive, these wind-aspected mana beasts would inhale through their obscenely large gullets. They¡¯d suck in as much ambient mana as they could, then expel it as a rumbling attack that was dangerous even for a team of mid-tier mages.


    But, as far as I was aware, I was the only artificer who had recognized the potential the beast core of these creatures could have. I¡¯d jerry-rigged a system that forcibly stimulated the beast core with a bit of mana, causing it to draw in the energy around itself in a weakened mimicry of the living monster¡¯s signature attack.


    But the mana wasn¡¯t expelled as a sound attack. As the ambient mana neared, a gravity-imbued artifact helped siphon it toward storage containers, where a collection of other small artifacts distilled the substance into drops of pure silver liquid.


    My system for passively gathering mana for my experiments was revolutionary. At least it would be if I released the method to the public. There were many systems that attempted to do similar things, but they almost always required a mage to stand nearby and utilize their active control over mana to finalize the gathering process. Furthermore, my system was compact and efficient beyond compare.


    I hadn¡¯t gotten around to setting it up outside yet, but that would be my next step.


    I moved over to the kitchen counter. I¡¯d cleared it of most items that had supernaturally spawned here, but there was one remaining. Toren had called it a ¡®microwave oven,¡¯ and said it cooked food using high-frequency waves along the electromagnetic spectrum. Apparently, in whatever land he had visited, this was one of the primary methods of heating food, though it was clear his knowledge of it was very basic and non-technical.


    I settled my left hand on the cord at the back where it plugged into the wall and engaged my regalia, Scouring Purpose.


    I narrowed my eyes as mana funneled from the spellform on my lower back, to the cord, then back to my hand. It provided an almost instinctual understanding of the inner workings, the spellform simultaneously accelerating the pattern-matching abilities of my brain.


    My regalia didn¡¯t outright tell me the functions of items I used it on, but it made me far, far more receptive to deducing them myself. And from the information I¡¯d absorbed from this cord, I sighed in irritation. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was easy for me to spot wherever aether was involved in a construction when using my regalia. Everything, even mana artifacts, had a distinct pattern associated with them. A cause and an effect that I could eventually put together. But when aether imposed itself on the world, there was no cause. Only a preordained effect.


    I unplugged the microwave with a hint of sour irritation. Toren had hypothesized that this zone merely imitated the effects of that other land he was aware of, meanwhile filling in the blanks with aetheric effects to bridge the gap. And it appeared he was right. The wire had copper running within, presumably to conduct a charge, but there was no electricity coursing along it to energize the microwave. It simply worked as if by true magic.


    I grasped one edge of the microwave with my left hand, then moved my right arm to hold the other end. Except I didn¡¯t have my right arm.


    I paused absently, cursing myself for the stupid mistake. My right hand had been my dominant one, and without it, every single experiment¡¯s efficiency was cut in half at least. I¡¯d never appreciated the convenience of my previous dexterity until now, where I floundered to use my non-dominant hand like a wogart.


    And I can¡¯t afford to even show myself outside these Tombs, I thought with a complicated swirl of emotions. If I do, the protection that being an ascender affords me will be stripped away. And I won¡¯t be able to see my sister for a long time, I thought with a spike of anger, feeling my gut curdle at the thought of the Vicar of Plague.


    But then my anger dispersed, drifting as if it was never there. I grabbed the microwave with one arm, strengthening it with mana so I could grasp it with ease. I hefted it up the nearby flight of stairs, then deposited the machine with every other ramshackle item I¡¯d cleared away from the ground floor.


    It¡¯s better this way, I thought. Nothing will interrupt my research here anymore. Now that I can navigate the Relictombs with precision using my new spellform, I don¡¯t have to worry about collecting rare resources anymore, either. I can go directly to their source. And each of these houses generates food in their refrigerators on the regular. I don¡¯t need to leave these Tombs, and nobody can trace me here.


    I turned as I heard the door to the house open, perking up.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I muttered, ¡°Maybe there¡¯s one person.¡±


    Toren peered around at my admittedly messy mishmash of equipment and devices that took up nearly the entirety of the first floor of this house. He was the only mage alive who could successfully track me down in this Town Zone.


    ¡°Sevren,¡± he called uncertainly, ¡°Could you stand to make things any more cluttered?¡± he griped. He took a careful step in, avoiding a thick tangle of mana-conducting cords, then shifted to avoid a rather precarious artifact used to denote the resonant frequency of objects.


    He failed, bumping into the long cylindrical artifact. He deftly caught it in his hand before it could hit the ground, then paused with wide eyes. He looked at me from across the way.


    ¡°What exactly is this?¡± he said, inspecting it with curious eyes. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ reacting with my sense for mana. It¡¯s like I¡¯m hearing double when it touches my hand.¡±


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    I felt a spike of adrenaline as the words settled in my mind. I weaved my way through the clutter closing the distance. ¡°It¡¯s a mana-bound resonance detector. You use it to detect the resonant frequency of objects. Once artifacts get really compressed, you need to make sure parts don¡¯t resonate in tandem, else they¡¯ll rip each other apart.¡± But the implications thrummed through my mind. Toren heard


    aether, didn¡¯t he? How did this connect?


    ¡°Take it,¡± I said absently, my eyes boring into the item in his hands. ¡°I¡¯ve got a spare. Run whatever tests you need to and get back to me.¡± I looked up at Toren. ¡°Did you manage to get the fluid dissector toolkit without issue?¡± I said, feeling a flash of worry for my friend. None survived a conflict with my family unscathed.


    Toren hesitantly pocketed the dark cylindrical artifact. ¡°It was¡­ stressful. I met your mother,¡± he said.


    I focused intently on my friend. ¡°What happened?¡± I asked, worried.


    The aetheric striker massaged the bridge of his nose, something I knew he did whenever he was trying to think of what to say. Gradually, he began to tell me the story of how he¡¯d approached our estate, the meeting he¡¯d had with my mother, and his extraction by my sister.


    Thank you, Caera, I thought internally. Toren wasn¡¯t a good liar. He defaulted on simply remaining silent when pressed or giving obvious half-answers. His ticks were relatively easy to read once you got to know him, and I was certain Lenora would have tried to pry the truth of my predicament from his hands whatever the cost.


    ¡°--And I got an invitation from your mother, too,¡± Toren finished saying.


    I blinked, then narrowed my eyes in suspicion. ¡°What did she invite you to do?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She wants me to play my violin at the upcoming Denoir ball,¡± Toren replied, ¡°And I¡¯m going to do it.¡±


    I snarled, running through the circumstances in my head. Lenora knew I had been accompanying Toren at every concert he¡¯d held, acting as silent political support and backing. No doubt she hoped to draw me to the ball if Toren were to play.


    ¡°You can¡¯t accept,¡± I said angrily. ¡°My mother wants to draw me out, like a carallian following the scent of blood. That¡¯s why she gave the invitation.¡±


    Lenora was always trying to pull me away from my work in the Relictombs. My father, Corbett, thought I would eventually leave my ¡®foolish obsession with the arcane¡¯ behind and join the fold, but my Mother had made it her mission to force me in.


    Toren looked at me with a furrowed brow. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s true,¡± he said uncertainly. ¡°But I¡¯ve decided to accept anyway. It¡¯s an amazing opportunity.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be playing right into her hands,¡± I said, feeling unnaturally angry. ¡°She¡¯s trying to manipulate you somehow. Are you fine with that?¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Toren said calmly. ¡°But you know my goals for playing my music,¡± he said. ¡°To try and reach as many people as possible. Touch as many hearts as I can. And this is a straight ladder to the top. Every single venue I¡¯ve attended so far has had minimal highblood attendance, but this? This is an opportunity I cannot miss.¡±


    I thought of Toren¡¯s soul-caressing music. I would admit there was a power to it that transcended mere words. When he played, he became a force as ethereal as the ambient mana itself. But he was going to fail in trying to make highbloods accept the unadorned.


    But maybe this ball will be the point he finally realizes that, a bitter part of myself said. Maybe this will finally show him the truth of their corruption. For his own sake.


    ¡°I won¡¯t join you this time,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°I figured,¡± Toren said, and there was a bit of sadness there. ¡°You¡¯ve done a lot for me, Sevren. I can¡¯t force you to do anything.¡± He shook his head, then withdrew a deep blue box from his dimension ring. The toolkit, I thought, reaching my hand out to take it. I¡¯d need to get to work fast with the small blithe sample I had.


    When I clasped the handle, Toren¡¯s own fingers didn¡¯t release the leather. I looked at him, uncertain. ¡°Sevren,¡± he said quietly. ¡°You should talk with Caera.¡±


    I ripped the case from Toren¡¯s hands, turning around and slowly plodding toward where the microwave used to be. I set the toolkit down on the counter, and then unzipped the top.


    ¡°She misses you,¡± Toren¡¯s voice said from behind me. ¡°You need to talk to her. I didn¡¯t even know it, but you haven¡¯t spoken in months.¡±


    I tuned out Toren¡¯s words, instead slowly, carefully setting up the many interlocking beakers. The fluid dissector needed to be precisely arrayed, or else¨C


    ¡°Sevren,¡± Toren¡¯s irritatingly calm voice pierced my eardrums. ¡°You can¡¯t just stay here all-¡±


    I spun, my sole remaining hand crushing the glass container in my hand. Crystalline shards splintered against my hands. ¡°And what would you have me do?!¡± I said, my voice raising in volume. ¡°Leave the Relictombs? Get drawn into the petty politics of my family? I¡¯m doing something important here! Something necessary!¡± I said, gesturing to the arrayed mechanisms before me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to consign yourself to the Relictombs forever,¡± Toren said, his orange eyes piercing my soul. ¡°I can easily act as a go-between for you and Caera. Manage a meetup of some sort. And even then, we can manage to do¨C¡±


    ¡°Manage to do what?¡± I asked, nearly yelling. ¡°Why is the world outside deserving of my time and energy? All it''s done is break down every good thing that we¡¯ve ever done.¡±


    Toren crossed his arms. ¡°There¡¯s good people out in the world, Sevren. Things worth working for beyond just hiding away those close to us. Caera wouldn¡¯t want you to stay¨C¡±


    ¡°And what do you know of us?¡± I snapped heatedly. ¡°What do you know about Caera and I? About what I need to do to stop hell from taking her too?!¡±


    I immediately regretted my outburst. I saw the hurt flash in Toren¡¯s eyes as he took a single step back, but it was quickly overridden by another emotion. The same one that overtook everyone in the wake of his concerts.


    Understanding. Those eyes seared my flesh deeper than any brand. ¡°My brother, Norgan, was taken from me in front of my eyes,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to lose one closer to you than your own soul. I wrought vengeance upon those responsible, but it wouldn¡¯t have been possible without the help of those at my side.¡± He paused. ¡°But my loss was an instant knife to the heart. Don¡¯t let Caera feel the draw of a relationship¡¯s slow death instead. She cares for you, Sevren.¡±


    I slammed my eyes shut, turning away. His words stung. ¡°Just go,¡± I begged, feeling unable to argue any longer. ¡°Please.¡±


    I heard Toren¡¯s steps as he slowly made his way back to the exit. ¡°The djinn are worthy of the highest respect,¡± his voice echoed near the door. ¡°But they made a mistake, cutting themselves off from the world outside. Of isolating themselves and their emotions from the scourge of the asura in the waking world. Their passivity doomed themselves, in a way. You¡¯re the closest thing to a legacy they have,¡± he admitted, ¡°So don¡¯t do the same. This world and people are worth your time and attention.¡±


    I felt a treacherous tear rip itself from my eye and course down my cheek as I thought of Caera. Of my responsibilities outside. The echoing sound of the door closing as Toren left rattled around in my head like a hundred ghosts.

 Chapter 134: Masquerade

    Toren Daen


    I adjusted my mask slightly, letting the dense metal settle across my face. The dark, dusky steel had a deep handprint over the forehead where Mawar had grabbed it, but besides that, it was nearly unrecognizable from what it had been before.


    When I¡¯d learned the Denoir ball was a masquerade, I¡¯d considered what I would like to wear in attendance. And considering the long history I¡¯d had with vicar¡¯s masks, it was only appropriate I¡¯d modify one to suit my needs.


    The metal along the faceplate had been sculpted to a sharpened beak instead of a normal nose. After the damage Mawar had done to it, it only covered the highest part of my cheeks and nose, but that was okay. And best of all, it didn¡¯t need face straps anymore. It stayed suctioned to my face by a light application of mana.


    It wasn¡¯t the most graceful of masks, but it had a quiet, menacing beauty that matched the rest of my outfit as well. I was wearing my maroon and orange vest again and was clothed in darker colors.


    The banquet building was one of the largest I¡¯d been in. Tall vertical windows gave a bare glimpse of the sunset outside, the colored glass casting the inside in a dark ambiance. The ceiling must have been five or six stories above my head, giving the entire area a lofty feel that displayed the grand elegance of the stone that held it aloft.


    As the eminent musician for the event, I was situated slightly to the side of the large rectangular room. I stood on an area slightly above the rest of the floor as I played a soothing tune on my violin, amplifying the sound outward with my magic.


    ¡°Introducing Renton of Highblood Morthelm,¡± a voice said from a mana speaker. The doors at the front of the hall opened, revealing a familiar slightly pudgy man entering. His mask looked like the cutaway of an old Hellenic helmet in a deep black. The highbloods milling around gave the man cursory introductions and moved to speak to him in their small cliques.


    The Denoir ball wasn¡¯t just a ball. It was a social get-together for the highest in Alacryan culture. In fact, the ball part would only start later, once the sun was fully down. High in the stones above, Aurora¡¯s songbird artifact observed each group critically.


    Morthelm is giving most attendees neutral responses, my bond conveyed. He¡¯s paying special attention to the Denoir faction, of course, but it seems to be out of respect for their hosting of the ball rather than political preference. Though Highlord Zachian Exeter seems to hold his attention more than the rest.


    The political factions were quick to form as highbloods filtered in one by one. Corbett and Lenora were surrounded by staunch advocates and allies. Opposing them was a group centered around a few other highbloods, namely Patamoor, Seaworth, and Plainsrunner. And the other group of note milled near Highlord Exeter, clearly of a more neutral cast.


    Though there were half a dozen more highblood groups milling about, it was Aurora¡¯s keen eyes and ears that helped me dissect the political landscape shifting in real-time. Over the past half hour or so, the rich and wealthy of Alacrya had gradually filed in. I¡¯d spotted several familiar faces, including Caera, Lenora, Corbett, and more. Surprisingly, I hadn¡¯t gotten the opportunity to speak much, but that was clearly about to change.


    I drew out one last note on my violin, exhaling as I left the semi-fugue state. A man with a blonde beard¨Cnearly silver¨Cstroked his chin. His mask had a bluish cast and seemed distinctly crystalline.


    ¡°Much has been said about your ability, Lord Daen,¡± the man said, an undercurrent of something in his tone. ¡°If that is all you can display, I¡¯m disappointed.¡±


    As I did whenever I finished a song, I allowed my violin and bow to hover near my head under telekinetic control. ¡°Highlord Uriel Frost,¡± I said, barely bowing to the head of Highblood Frost. ¡°I¡¯m afraid the main event hasn¡¯t yet begun. I hope you understand if I¡¯m reserving my skills for that time.¡±


    ¡°I can forgive some,¡± Uriel Frost said, looking at me with slight dismissiveness. ¡°But it is custom for a Named Blood to bow in respect to his betters,¡± he said, clearly annoyed.


    I tilted my head. ¡°Pardon my words, Highlord Frost,¡± I said calmly, ¡°but the last person to force me to bow was Mardeth of the Doctrination. And the second time we met, he failed at forcing it again.¡± My enhanced ears heard a spike of muttering around me as spies subtly monitoring me burst into conversation.


    Uriel Frost¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°My sons told me you were proud, but there is a thin line between pride and arrogance, Lord Daen. The Relictombs have given you a heightened sense of importance.¡±


    I felt myself smile, thinking of the very, very obvious arrogance the Frost Twins had displayed. Maybe I was a bit arrogant, but here was a man throwing stones within a glass house. ¡°I agree,¡± I said simply. ¡°But arrogance with substance is ultimately well-earned pride.¡±


    Another voice cut off Uriel before he could speak. ¡°You¡¯re arrogant,¡± Highlord Justul Patamoor said with an amusing twist of his lips, his posse of highblood lackeys trailing behind him. The center of attention in the ballroom was finally shifting. ¡°You¡¯re a rising star in Alacrya. You came from a no-name Named Blood in the backwater of Fiachra, and now you¡¯ve managed a contract with Bloodstone Elixirs and are on the coattails of the Denoirs. But one must be careful, lest they make a mistake and fall to the bottom again. It¡¯s happened to so many great talents over the centuries that it is practically clockwork.¡±


    I oriented on Justul Patamoor. Before this ball, Renea Shorn had given me a preliminary rundown of who would be attending. And I had heard of Highblood Patamoor before. ¡°I¡¯ve made mistakes before,¡± I admitted to the man. ¡°And I fully expect to make them again.¡± I traced a finger over the eyebrow of my mask. ¡°Underneath this mask is a scar given to me by Darrin Ordin of the Unblooded Party. He would be more than happy to see me die a grisly death.¡±


    Shock rippled through the Patamoor contingent, no doubt at the mention of the unblooded man who had bloodied them in a legal battle. Justul¡¯s smile became more genuine at the opening I¡¯d provided. ¡°That man has a tendency to stick his nose where it doesn¡¯t belong,¡± Lord Patamoor said, taking the bait. ¡°And nipping at the feet of those higher than he. I sympathize with how he wronged you.¡±


    My own smile took a predatory cast. ¡°In the process of earning this scar,¡± I said, ¡°I realized that every scar Darrin Ordin left in his wake was deserved,¡± I said, vouching for the man¡¯s actions.


    After all, Darrin Ordin was one of the best men I had ever known, even if he wished for me to burn at a pyre.


    Justul¡¯s smile fell in a slow, menacing droop, his eyes flashing darkly at my insinuation. ¡°You are arrogant, Lord Daen,¡± he said. ¡°A taste of fame and glory has numbed you to the realities of this world.¡±


    Highlord Patamoor turned around with a swish, his long robes trailing behind him. Uriel Frost cradled a drink, watching the entire thing with narrowed eyes.


    Corbett Denoir was the next to approach. Unlike the massively styled coverings everyone else wore, he had adorned a simple silver half-mask that highlighted his teal eyes. ¡°Lord Toren Daen,¡± he greeted, bowing slightly in greeting. In response, I dipped a bit deeper than I had to Highlord Frost. The covert attention of half a hundred highbloods threaded around me, detectable in their intent.


    ¡°Highlord Denoir,¡± I said with a hint of genuine respect. I straightened. ¡°I thank you for the opportunity to play to this crowd.¡±


    Corbett, clearly expecting my lack of perceived respect, clasped me familiarly on the shoulder with a plastered smile. ¡°There is no need for such formalities between us,¡± he said, making sure his voice could be heard. ¡°Your partnership with Bloodstone Elixirs and the depth of your abilities has long assured me of where you stand,¡± he said, giving a jovial chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve found myself lacking when Lady Renea Shorn snatched you up first. Tell me, how are you faring with my son on your ascents?¡±


    He knows you will not give outright deference to him, Aurora said, So, to avoid appearing weak, he must outwardly display a different kind of relationship, my bond continued, able to sift through the political implications with far more speed than I. But I believe his question about the Artificer is genuine. He¡¯s trying to play your mystery up to the Highbloods around. No longer will it be a question of, ¡°Why does Highlord Denoir allow this disrespect?¡± Instead, it will become, ¡°What makes the disrespect worth taking?¡±


    I patted Highlord Denoir on the shoulder with similar familiarity. ¡°Sevren is a powerful mage,¡± I said, playing the bit. ¡°He¡¯s saved my life many times on our ascents. His character is as strong as his magic.¡± I released my hand from Corbett¡¯s shoulder.


    Loosen your shoulders, Aurora said. And decrease the rigidity in your back. They will sense it.


    Thanks, I thought, forcefully relaxing my posture.


    Renton Morthelm took a position by my side, something that mildly surprised me. ¡°You¡¯ve caused waves in Fiachra, Lord Daen,¡± he said as he watched my hand leave Corbett¡¯s shoulder. ¡°How are you planning to rock the boat here?¡± He chanced a knowing look at Highlord Denoir. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware of what you¡¯ve brought to this ball, but Lord Daen¡¯s¡­ talents will surprise even you.¡±


    Lord Morthelm locked eyes with me. His political strategy seemed passive at first glance: watching things play out and waiting to take a side, but after my last interaction with him after the concert, he¡¯d appeared far more cautious.


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    ¡°Rock the boat?¡± Corbett said, smiling slightly, ¡°Well, perhaps that¡¯s what will happen tonight. Speaking of,¡± he said, giving me a nod before extricating himself from the small group.


    I watched him grab a glass of some sort of wine from a nearby table. All eyes in the ballroom turned to him as he tapped a metal spoon against the edge of his glass. High, resonant notes spread throughout the entire room, cutting through any and all conversations. I felt the flash of mana in the air as it carried the note with supernatural precision.


    Lenora swept in to stand by Corbett¡¯s side like a natural, settling there like an extension of his arm. Her eyes burned into my own for an instant, but then it washed away as she assumed her role as Highlady Denoir.


    Corbett waited until the conversation simmered down. ¡°We¡¯ve gathered here today to converse, drink, and discuss the times, as usual,¡± he said, his voice echoing out powerfully. ¡°Many a time have we repeated this over and over. And it is always a joy to bring you all together. But today, Highblood Denoir would like to introduce you to something truly special.¡± He gauged the reaction of the slightly confused crowd. ¡°Many of you have heard strange reports of a rising mage from the midden of Sehz Clar and his unique style of music. Highblood Denoir has gone to the lengths of inviting this master of the violin to entertain and awe us all as the opening act for our regular ball.¡±


    Feeling my cue, I stepped forward, feeling the intent of the room settle over me like a blanket. I felt a sudden urge to cringe under the attention, but Aurora¡¯s measuring brush against my mind allowed me to settle. My enhanced ears picked out many of the mutterings of the highbloods. Their skepticism. Irritation. And sometimes outright disgust for my position as ¡®merely a Named Blood.¡¯


    Corbett nodded to me, giving me the stage. I took a deep breath.


    ¡°I would like to thank Highblood Denoir for this chance,¡± I said, allowing my voice to carry through the mana around us. ¡°I have been a musician for a long, long time, but what I hope to show you is something that is utterly new. And even better, any mage among you can master this skill, regardless of your spellforms.¡± I turned my head, scanning through the crowd. Clearly, many were uncertain of what I was about to do. ¡°Afterward, I¡¯d be more than happy to answer questions about this skill.¡±


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± a voice cut through the silence, ¡°Many of us have heard of this music. In fact, some of us expected this outcome,¡± Justul Patamoor said with faux amazement. ¡°But while I don¡¯t doubt Lord Denoir¡¯s hospitality,¡± he said, clearly doubting Lord Denoir¡¯s hospitality, ¡°I¡¯ve heard that this technique of yours alters the minds of those who listen to it. And for a host to allow his guest¡¯s minds to be intruded upon would be the greatest of sins.¡±


    All around the ballroom, men and women muttered uncertainly, some looking at Corbett and Lenora uncertainly. I narrowed my eyes at Justul as he held aloft a small artifact. ¡°This is a mind shield developed by Aensgar War Industries. It detects effects upon the mind and blocks them, and if it is truly harmful, reflects the effects back onto the attacker. It would be acceptable to use this, would it not?¡±


    I knew about those devices. They detected formed spells, sensed their effects, then would amply and return the attack. If I were going to try and influence these people in any way, that artifact would theoretically mirror the effect back at me.


    But the sensitivity was adjustable. It could be altered to reflect both the most dangerous of attacks or the barest of soothings, but there would be no way to prove that difference. Justul¡¯s eyes flashed in silent victory. If that device went off because of my magic, Corbett¡¯s reputation might never recover.


    All eyes turned to Corbett, who suddenly seemed apprehensive. Was this some sort of subtle plot by Highlord Denoir to toy with their heads? But I was the one who spoke up next. ¡°Of course it would,¡± I said, smiling more genuinely. I¡¯d learned my lesson since my first concert in Fiachra. People would try and push back against what I showed. Try to discredit it. And that device would not protect them from reality. The Highlord Denoir looked at me with a flash of genuine fear, though he smoothed it over quickly. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Justul smiled maliciously. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, slipping the medallion under his shirt. He handed out a few more to his nearby compatriots, and as he did so, the mood in the ballroom suddenly became nervous. Many glanced at the door, and Corbett¡¯s eyes had a pinch to them that told him he was more than worried. Justul was protected from a perceived threat, yet they were not.


    Before anyone else could try and interrupt, I thrust my hands to the side, grabbing my violin and bow. I moved to the center display and then settled my instrument against my collar.


    I looked over the gathered crowd, silently wondering what tied them all together. What was something that every single mage here would understand?


    I drew out a slow note along my strings, settling into a peaceful, lavish tone. The ambient mana warped as I thought of my days with Norgan. The peace and security that I¡¯d felt drove my arms onward. And these nobles certainly knew that peace in a sense as well. After all, wealth offered security. It granted opportunity and comfort.


    The entirety of the ballroom immediately fell into uncertain shock as my music spread through the room, the brilliant notes reverberating in the acoustic halls. The stones themselves drank in my music, the long banquet hall vibrating with life. The dusklight streaming through the stained glass windows seemed somehow warmer. I felt the mana of nearly everyone present slowly move toward synchronization.


    Each person here knew the lavish life. Theirs was luxury and wealth; power and persona. Maybe I couldn¡¯t emulate the source of that surety perfectly, but I could project the emotion itself. It took time for some of these people to truly immerse themselves in the effects, their initial wariness blocking out the possibilities. But as more and more eyes became transfixed and Justul¡¯s artifact failed to go off, more and more loosened their restraint.


    But underneath it all, something more sinister trailed. The certainty that it could all be taken away. One¡¯s wealth, family, their legacy¨Cthat ominous undertone slowly grew in the background as the dominant notes professed relaxation and warmth. Dramatic stings of near-misses and close counters excited the heartbeats of my audience, each quick rise in tempo a potential end. Maybe a lost business deal. A failed Relictombs ascent. Or maybe the erasure of one¡¯s house entirely.


    Highlord Morthelm¡¯s eyes flashed as the light dimmed further. Where before there was only warmth and surety in the light streaming through the windows, now only the tall lighting artifacts that cast a glow from on high remained. And that light was dark and ominous. The unknown lurked beyond it, waiting with baited claws. Lenora clutched Corbett¡¯s arm tightly, her light knuckles becoming even paler as she gripped his sleeve with the force to tear straight through. Her face was flushed with something approaching fear.


    Corbett¡¯s jaw was clenched with a tightness that could break a diamond, his mask barely hiding his emotion. Similar reactions started to peek through the crowd as the tension built in dizzying crescendos.


    After all, what was a highblood¡¯s greatest fear? They feared a simple mistake that could bring all their work to the ground. The grand blunder was certainly scary, but the quick, unseen knife that spelled the end of a personal empire was like the bite of a spider. One might never know why their dynasty collapsed. Yet through the fear and discomfort these highbloods felt, they were compelled to see this song to conclusion.


    I thought of Duena, the older woman suffering under the fists of Lawris Joan. The poor older woman was being beaten in the streets, with nobody to help her but a duo of brothers.


    The Brothers Daen.


    My notes came faster and faster as I replayed that fateful battle in my head. Sweat beaded on my temples as my breathing became uneven. My arms wanted to shake, but they would not. Even in the face of that remembered hell, I was always steady. A deadly martial duel played out in front of me, far too fast for the eyes of my past self to track. Blow by blow, my brother fought our old nemeses.


    The flash of steel descended toward Norgan¡¯s chest. I drew out the highest note I could manage.


    And I stopped, heaving for breath as my sweaty palms nearly betrayed me. The ambient mana slowly settled down as I relinquished my hold on it, things dispersing back into their rightful place. My grip was so tight I feared I might crush the priceless instrument in my hands.


    I scanned the crowd, feeling the flush in my face slowly diminish as sensation returned. Eyes filled with a strange mixture of fear and yearning stared back. They wanted more. To hear what happened after that abrupt cutoff. The final conclusion.


    ¡°That is the end,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°All I can play for tonight,¡± I admitted, acknowledging the wrung-out towel that my emotions had become. I may have moved on in the wake of my brother¡¯s death, but the scar would never stop aching.


    I gauged the reaction of the silent room. And I knew it then. Despite every single man and woman wearing a mask, the emotions that simmered at the surface were the truest they could be. Justul Patamoor clenched his protective pendant angrily, the device having not reacted at all.


    Corbett was the first to clap. His eyes still glared holes into my chest, his forearms taught with tension, but that tightness was unnaturally buried as his mask finally came back into place like a well-oiled lock.


    I bowed more deeply as a smattering of applause echoed throughout. Where before I had gotten uncountable cheers, it seemed I had unnerved these nobles in a way too deep for simple clapping.


    I opened my mouth to speak. To thank the Denoirs for allowing this first venue, when a rumble like rolling thunder struck my ears and made my body tremble. It started in my ears, rattled my skull, and then traveled like boiling liquid along my body and through my feet. I stood ramrod straight, my violin instantly forgotten as I flared my mana.


    The mages around me shied away in shock as I pulsed with power, trying to identify the source of the sound. It came again, like the ringing of a gong. Yet I couldn¡¯t seem to exactly pinpoint where it was coming from.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± Justul Patamoor said, recovering the fastest. ¡°How dare you engage your mana in these¨C¡±


    Another crash of thunder drowned out his words, leaving his mouth moving and me uncomprehending. Several mages began to move forward, revving their cores at the threat. Finally, some movement!


    I looked at them in surprise. They weren¡¯t preparing to face whatever was bearing down on this hall. They were treating me like I was a threat. Corbett was saying something, moving and waving his arms as he tried to settle the situation, but it felt inconsequential.


    They couldn¡¯t hear it, I realized as I ignored the outraged nobles at my blatant display of power. Fire and sound buzzed into existence around my fists as I stowed my violin in my dimension ring. Why not? Why can¡¯t they hear it? It sounds like it¡¯ll bring the entire fucking building down with each blow! Like this entire hall is a nail and a hammer keeps striking it!


    By the skies, Aurora thought with alarm, her puppet flying down from the rafters and growing in size to the size of an eagle. It is your heartfire sense! I didn¡¯t realize it because I do not share this sense with you, but this is the source!


    My head snapped to the ballroom doors, tuning out the mages moving to surround me and drawing hidden weapons. That wasn¡¯t thunder, I realized with horror, recognizing the truth in my bond¡¯s words. That was a heartbeat, a monstrous heartfire thumping against my ears.


    Nervous, shaky words echoed out over the loudspeaker, slicing through the growing threat of combat. As each syllable was painfully annunciated, like whoever was speaking was balancing on the barest of ledges. And as each word was spoken, the highbloods around me rippled with barely contained fear.


    ¡°Introducing the Head of the Doctrination, the Voice of the Sovereigns, The Reformer and Remaker,¡± a terrified voice said with terror, ¡°High Vicar Varadoth!¡±

 Chapter 135: Of Horns and Strength

    Toren Daen


    The large hardwood doors to the ballroom creaked open like the sound of a coffin¡¯s lid, a presence like a bottled thunderstorm echoing outward. The soul seemed to leave the ballroom as the announcer¡¯s words echoed like a reaper¡¯s judgment.


    High Vicar Varadoth, I thought, fear spiking through my body. An instinctual part of me prepared to run or fight or hide, the name of the Doctrination¡¯s head sending chills along my body. But before I could do anything else, he stepped into the room.


    In contrast to his heartfire¡¯s storming pulse, Varadoth¡¯s footfalls were softer than a feather. His feet were bare as he took slow, methodic steps through the room. Deep gray skin absorbed the light greedily, the man casting a shadow that was far too long. His robes were decrepit and ragged, shredded tatters barely clinging to the rest of the whole like a sailor who grasped a piece of wood. He bore no hair on his head, but a short goatee thrust from his chin like the point of a knife. His hands were clasped behind his straight back, the picture of power and quiet surety.


    But that was nothing. The vicar stared directly at me, his sockets seeming to burrow into my soul. I found myself transfixed in a mix of mute terror and uncomprehension as mage after mage knelt in his presence, the power billowing around him a silent demand.


    I could not understand how I knew he was looking at me, for two spiraling onyx horns erupted from his forehead, then curled inward like twisting black spikes to pierce through his eye sockets. It looked like someone had hammered railroad spikes one grisly strike at a time deep into his skull. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The rims of his eye sockets dripped a slow stream of blackish liquid, making it seem like the mage was constantly weeping corrupted blood. I couldn¡¯t decide which instilled the greatest unease in me: his horn-pierced eyes, or his unerringly calm intent.


    This is the strongest mage I have ever seen, I thought, unconsciously settling into a fighting stance. The thunder of Varadoth¡¯s heartbeat drowned out the placating and nauseating words of the terrified mages around me as the vicar neared. Those who had once been so eager to put me down as a perceived threat shied away from the oncoming Varadoth as if he were a forbidden memory. Why is he here?


    My thoughts immediately jumped to the assault on Mardeth¡¯s base I¡¯d performed not even an entire week ago. Had the horrid vicar set his protector against me? I knew Varadoth had interceded to protect Mardeth from Melzri, but would he call on his backer to eliminate me?


    That didn¡¯t seem right. Mardeth wanted to deal with me himself. Did Varadoth want to kill me for other reasons?


    My thoughts jumped along every single secret I held as the pressure followed Varadoth like cloying hands. My lack of spellforms. My control of aether. My strange effects on the Relictombs. The survival of Aurora¡¯s spirit. My future knowledge.


    If my sense of his heartfire had not told me already, the blanket of dark mana that covered the entire room would have alerted me instead. Every single highblood in the room knelt nervously, the silent intent of the room stinking of terror. It clogged my nose like a cloying rot, threatening to overwhelm my own thoughts.


    Aurora¡¯s mind bolstered my own, her clockwork form settling nearby in a conveyance of silent support. Internally, I considered the possibility of running away, using the djinn relic¡¯s alternate form to make a quick getaway. But we both knew that if this man tried to kill us, we would be unable to run. The metal contraption slowly dissipated into its bronze brooch form. If this came down to battle, my only chance came from Lady Dawn¡¯s full focus on supporting my mind.


    Varadoth stopped several yards away from me, tilting his head as if he could still see. Those black-blooded tears seeped into his robe. We watched each other: me with concealed apprehension, he with something I couldn¡¯t understand. He had no eyes to read.


    ¡°Why do you not kneel, Toren Daen?¡± the man finally asked. Despite his monstrous appearance, his voice was smooth and even without deeper inflection. I found myself taken aback by how soft it nearly sounded.


    My mouth felt as dry as cotton. Taking a breath of my bond¡¯s mental support, I worked up the courage to respond. Just one sentence. ¡°Do you want me to kneel?¡±


    Varadoth¡¯s face didn¡¯t twitch. He didn¡¯t furrow his brows. He didn¡¯t smile, or frown, or even change anything at all. His response was robotic. ¡°When my horns began to curve toward my eyes, I felt fear. Every day I awoke, the first thing I witnessed was the encroaching spikes of my own body. As my power grew over the years, so too did my horns. They inched closer and closer to my eyes, those spikes a paranoia-inducing reminder.¡±


    If the Vritra-blooded high vicar still bore eyes, they would be boring into my own. Instead, a black tear splashed against the ground. In the still silence of the room, I could hear the impact like that of a rainstorm.


    ¡°And one day, they finally pierced my eyes. My innate mana arts tried to heal them over and over and over, turning my days into those of constant agony as my eyes attempted to reform around my horns. And still, they continued to grow despite my terror. Despite my pain. Despite my hate. And yet when they fully pierced my eyes, I experienced the greatest clarity any mage has ever enjoyed.¡±


    The High Vicar unclasped one hand from behind his back, then slowly and methodically wiped away the streaking black blood from the edges of his eyes. Sparks of black soulfire erupted over his fingers, burning the corruption to nothing.


    ¡°My emotions seeped away as if on the wind. The agony remained. The pain remained. But what truly entered my mind was not the tips of my horns. It was perspective. No longer did pain burden me. No longer did fear overwhelm me. I was stripped of those burdensome emotions, and I recognized the power of perception.¡± He turned to observe the quaking highbloods, somehow able to see through his empty sockets. Wherever his head turned, men cowed in submission. The greatest politicians and the smallest servants alike.


    ¡°Through perception, power is leveraged. And through power, self is enforced,¡± Varadoth¡¯s smooth voice echoed with the air of quotation. ¡°This is the Second Doctrine of our lord god, and only when I was released of my emotion did I understand it. Your question, Toren Daen, is not the one you should be asking. What you must ask is what they believe I want.¡±


    I felt my jaw work in a mix of disgust, sympathy, and dripping uncertainty as the vicar completed his story. And as he spoke of his change, something equally horrifying revealed itself to me.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    High Vicar Varadoth had been lobotomized by his own horns. His body broke his emotion.


    ¡°You refuse to kneel, Toren Daen, because you are strong. You believe¨Cperceive¨Cyourself strong enough to resist,¡± the vicar said at last.


    Internally, I acknowledged his point. Several months ago, I would have knelt in this man¡¯s presence, regardless of my principles. Survival was key.


    And as the vicar told me his story, I felt a strange sort of emotion come over me. He wasn¡¯t acting hostile toward me. Far from it, in fact. While he did not speak as if we were friends, the way he spoke mirrored something else. I felt off guard. The first thought that had crossed my mind upon hearing Varadoth¡¯s name was that he wanted me dead. That those thundering heartbeats were my death toll; a bell signaling my execution. Yet instead of fighting, he was¡­ questioning me? Questioning my principles?


    ¡°If everything is up to perception,¡± I said, almost on instinct, feeling off-kilter from the unexpected speeches, ¡°Then that means what you define as power isn¡¯t as simple as what spells you can leverage or the depth of your insight. It can be defined as nearly anything that uses strength.¡±


    Varadoth cocked his head, making him look like a horrifying sculpture. ¡°Elaborate,¡± the Vritra-blooded vicar demanded.


    I swallowed. ¡°If sense of self is enforced through strength alone,¡± I started, drawing from the notes I¡¯d scribbled alongside my book earlier, ¡°Then the self would have no substance.¡±


    I paused, feeling I might have pushed too far. But Varadoth stood still, silently compelling me to keep speaking. ¡°If self is derived from strength for strength¡¯s sake, then it¡¯s circular. It forgoes effect, treating the middleman as the goal instead of a means. One needs strength for something outside of strength itself. A means to an end, not the end itself.¡± I licked my lips. ¡°And once there are no enemies left, where will your self go? You can¡¯t exist without foes or conflict.¡±


    A long, foreboding silence followed in the wake of my words. I noticed Renton Morthelm¡¯s masked face slowly rise as he looked at me with something uncertain. A few of the other nobles around us¨Cthose who were powerful¨Craised their heads to watch this exchange between Varadoth and me.


    ¡°There will always be enemies as long as there are people,¡± Varadoth said contemplatively. ¡°Always be challengers. Though I accede that if one grows powerful enough to vanquish every single enemy, then there are none to exert one¡¯s power over.¡±


    Varadoth looked over the crowd once more, flexing his mana in a way that made my stomach curdle. All who had dared to raise their heads lowered them like whipped dogs. ¡°You and I, Toren Daen, are the only ones in this room with souls.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked slowly.


    ¡°Every single mage in this room cowers at the slightest breeze,¡± he said, his voice devoid of inflection. Everything he said was almost robotic in cadence. ¡°And only the two of us have the strength to choose our fates. These people are changed by your presence, rather than the other way around. You leverage your power instead of having power leveraged over you.¡±


    Inwardly, I recognized that there was a grain of truth in Varadoth¡¯s philosophy. Those with power wrote history. Left legacies. Changed the world. And then there were those denied power.


    It was the ultimate statement of might makes right.


    And it was only true because the High Sovereign¡¯s framework forced that unequal existence upon everyone present.


    I blurted the next words that came to mind, feeling almost invigorated by our back and forth. ¡°Under that idea, if I managed to change your mind about the Doctrine of Strength,¡± I said, ¡°Would that not make me more powerful than you? My own strength of mind; strength of reason, would have overcome yours.¡±


    Varadoth was quiet for a long, long time. The mana in the air swelled, and I began calling on the power of my Phoenix Will as I sensed my mistake. Gooseflesh rose along the back of my neck. The men and women around us gasped like fish on dry land as Varadoth¡¯s King¡¯s Force bore into them. ¡°Every time I meet another with a soul,¡± he finally said, his voice as cool as a grave, ¡°I ask them what drives them to their heights.¡± His horns glistened with dark blood. ¡°Tell me why you fight, Toren Daen.¡±


    The chain on my arm glowed as I engaged my Phoenix Will, sinking into the familiar depths of its power. The runes under my eyes burned with the warmth of hot coals. My fingers twitched, adrenaline racing along my veins. Outwardly, Varadoth showed no change, but I could almost feel his mana revving in turn. I hadn¡¯t fully engaged my Acquire Phase yet, but I was on the cusp.


    I could feel it in the air; in his intent. Whatever my answer was, it would decide whether he would try and kill me or not. The silence slowly grew taut between us, an unspoken understanding connecting our mana.


    ¡°There is someone I need to kill,¡± I said at last, choosing to speak part of the truth. ¡°I made a promise to rid this world of their rot.¡±


    The vicar¡¯s mana swelled further. ¡°You do it for others?¡± he said, a hint of contempt in his voice. ¡°You present weakness, Toren Daen. To rely on others is a crutch.¡±


    ¡°The one who wished this of me is dead,¡± I said cryptically as I struggled to resist the vicar¡¯s King¡¯s Force, fighting not to buckle under the weight. It was technically true. My breath came in spurts as Lady Dawn¡¯s mind struggled to support the clearness of my thoughts. ¡°Their voice compels me from beyond the grave.¡±


    I considered diving deeper into my Phoenix Will. To engage my Second Phase. If I wanted to survive a battle with this mage, I didn¡¯t see any other way to escape. And for once, Aurora didn¡¯t protest.


    For one thundering heartbeat, then two, the pressure continued unabated. Then it gradually melted away, leaving my skin cold and clammy. I felt as if I¡¯d been in a sauna for hours, only to be suddenly thrust into an arctic chill. ¡°Ah¡­¡± Varadoth breathed. ¡°Vengeance. The purest of motivators. It is the pinnacle of all emotions, for it is what drives our High Sovereign,¡± he said. ¡°I can no longer feel the drive of such pure emotion. You are among the privileged, Toren Daen.¡±


    I swallowed, forcing my knees not to tremble.


    ¡°Mardeth wants to kill you,¡± Varadoth said, as if he hadn¡¯t just been threatening me with death two seconds ago. I heaved for breath, blinking as stars finally cleared from my eyes. ¡°Your actions not a week ago with your companions infuriated him deeply. He wishes you to know he won¡¯t let your friend live a second time.¡±


    Lenora¡¯s head, which had remained bowed in a curtain of brilliant white this entire time, slowly rose to look at mine at Varadoth¡¯s words. I ignored it for the time being. ¡°Are you here to kill me for him?¡± I asked, feeling drained.


    ¡°Your quarrel with Mardeth is your own,¡± Varadoth dismissed. ¡°It is a true clash of strength. A driver of souls. I find myself wondering who will emerge victorious. And besides,¡± the vicar said, tilting his bald grey face. ¡°To kill you when I intervened in Mardeth¡¯s blunder at the Victoriad would be hypocrisy.¡±


    I furrowed my brows, still feeling cold sweat trickle down my back. ¡°And why is that?¡± I asked, not following.


    ¡°You are under protection from the greatest retributions, Spellsong,¡± Varadoth said with a wave of his hand. He turned around, seemingly done with the conversation. ¡°Most of the aforementioned higher powers do not even recognize the shield that has been placed before you, but regardless of their understanding, it will move to try and protect you from ones such as I. The strength of that shield is undeniable. Just as I granted Mardeth his one-time favor. Were I to breach that, it would invalidate Mardeth¡¯s soul, and I would need to kill the vicar myself to make things right.¡±


    The High Vicar continued to walk away, leaving me with a swirl of questions. I internally tried to go back over our conversation, feeling like I¡¯d missed something.


    ¡°What is this shield?¡¯¡± I called out as Varadoth walked toward the doors, feeling dizzy and confused. I took a few steps forward, my legs shaking from the effort. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer me. His shadow stretched from one end of the ballroom to the other as his footsteps receded, the sound of bottled thunder echoing in my head.

 Chapter 136: To Dance

    Toren Daen


    The echoing boom of the massive hardwood doors closing behind Varadoth mirrored the thunder of his heartfire. The highbloods in attendance pulled themselves to their feet one by one in a collective daze. I saw one man wearing a mask that bore an exaggerated feather wobble as he stood, his bright white suit bearing prominent marks of sweat. Another woman stumbled into her lover, and he nearly went down again.


    And as people gradually came to their senses, more than a few hastily scrambled to the doors, trying to escape the ballroom. What had once felt so tall and grand had become claustrophobic and looming as Varadoth¡¯s power tainted the light. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Corbett¡¯s olive hair was in disarray as he squared himself, his breath shuddering. He spared me a glance, one that asked a hundred questions but had played a long game of keeping those to himself.


    I didn¡¯t know what I should say. Apologize? Ask to leave myself? I was in just as much of a scattered daze as the nobles who watched me like I was radioactive.


    Instead, the man displayed a level of self-control I found enviable. He smoothed his bangs back into their typical part, straightened his jacket, and raised a glass to the air, calling the attention of all who remained at the Denoir ball.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ve had more than enough excitement for the week,¡± he said, his voice barely wavering. As he spoke to the crowd more, it became steadier and steadier. ¡°First an... Impactful performance from our friend, Lord Toren Daen, and then a surprise interruption by the Voice of the Sovereigns himself. We should count ourselves honored to have experienced these events together!¡± he said, his voice amplified by some sort of sound artifact.


    ¡°But the night ticks on! All of us are a little tired by now. So let us relax and dance!¡±


    As Corbett announced the start of the masquerade ball, I tiredly loped toward the long tables bearing refreshments. Mages parted around me as if I were Noah and they were the Red Sea. I tried to decipher the emotions entrenched in their mana signatures, but there wasn¡¯t much conscious thought. Everyone was rattled, and though the best of the best had quickly assessed the situation, many reacted on pure instinct when seeing my beeline for the tables.


    Have I truly accomplished anything tonight? I asked myself as I braced myself on the white table. My eyes inspected the tablecloth, tracing the threads on the pristine cloth. Intricate patterns wove themselves out of seemingly nothing, coming together to form something admittedly beautiful. Varadoth changed everything I tried today. My music had an effect, but how will my confrontation with the High Vicar taint their perceptions of what I tried to show them?


    I thought of Varadoth¡¯s words. His pierced eye sockets seemed to yawn ever wider in my mind¡¯s eye. ¡°Through perception, power is leveraged. And through power, self is enforced,¡± the High Vicar quoted, a blackness seeping from those words. How did these people perceive me now? If I wanted to push my ideals, did I need to be the Named Blood musician? And would my message be altered if I was seen as a pillar of strength? As High Vicar Varadoth dubbed it, a man with a soul?


    I grabbed an ornate wine bottle from the table and a clear glass nearby. I noticed a few other highbloods following suit, though the area around me was empty as the space between the Relictombs and the real world. I poured a glass slowly, watching the deep red liquid gradually fill the glass. Like blood streaming from the edges of an eye socket.


    I felt a phantom hand brushing my back comfortingly. I closed my eyes at Aurora¡¯s soothing gesture, though I could not see her through the Unseen World. She offered no words, simply because I wasn¡¯t in a place to receive them. I needed to process this before I could even begin to hear anything more.


    I tilted back the glass of deep red wine, letting the soothing liquid trail down my throat. I didn¡¯t savor it sip by sip as would¡¯ve been proper. Instead, I gulped it like a drowning man. I felt the warmth settle in my stomach, but I knew it would have barely any effect. My body was far too strong to be even phased by this level of alcohol.


    I set the glass back down, looking at the empty bottom. The action had centered me somewhat, allowing my thoughts to flow smoothly. Around me, nobles streamed to the dance floor in alternating waves. A few men were playing soft music over the venue, something Highlord Denoir and Renea Shorn had agreed upon in their negotiations. I was not to play my music for the actual ball.


    I noticed as someone approached me from the side, both with heartfire and mana sense. I turned to see Highlord Renton Morthelm, the large man giving me a complicated look. I was aware of the eyes watching us, but unlike before, I didn¡¯t have the energy to try and put up pretenses.


    ¡°When I asked you how you planned to rock the boat,¡± he said gruffly but not unsympathetically, ¡°I didn¡¯t realize this was what you had in mind.¡±


    I gently set the glass back down on the table. A servant would be by eventually to take it away. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest,¡± I said with an exhale of breath, ¡°neither did I. The music was all I had planned.¡±


    Morthelm nodded slowly. ¡°I find myself intrigued by the music you played,¡± he said. ¡°You seemed quite open about what it was. And Highlord Patamoor¡¯s artifact didn¡¯t even fire, but I¡¯m certain I felt my emotions being altered. Why was that?¡±


    I furrowed my brow, confused for a moment. I¡¯d explained this to Lord Morthelm before, hadn¡¯t I? How my intent-based music functioned? But as I looked past the man¡¯s mask, I recognized something crucial.


    Aurora saw the same. He might not understand your final motive, she thought, sounding slightly shocked, But he¡¯s figured out you wish the methods to spread. He¡¯s giving you an opening to explain.


    I smirked tiredly. ¡°Every mage can sense mana signatures,¡± I started. ¡°And even nonmages can feel the effects of mana. But there¡¯s far more to mana signatures than most people know,¡± I said. ¡°The bluntest application of this is killing intent. You enforce and spread your mana signature through the air, weaving your emotions and confidence through it. I¡¯ve grown attuned to these hidden aspects of mana signatures and can alter my own at will. With some help, of course.¡± I clenched my hand tightly. ¡°Highlord Patamoor¡¯s artifact failed to activate because I wasn¡¯t invading his mind. It¡¯s no different from me speaking aloud and the words being interpreted through your brain.¡±


    ¡°So any mage can learn this skill?¡± Morthelm pressed. The attentive men and women around me seemed to lean even closer as he posed the ultimate question.


    I nodded. ¡°It takes practice, of course, but you can. One must learn the subtle intricacies of their own mana signatures and subconscious intent, but it¡¯s entirely possible, regardless of your runes.¡±


    Morthelm nodded sagely, opening his mouth to say something when a familiar woman strode toward me in a deep olive dress. Her plain silver mask matched her husband¡¯s, and when Lenora Denoir offered me her milky white hand, I felt a renewed dread in the pit of my stomach.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said imperiously, ¡°I do not believe you have been inducted into the dance floor. Seeing as you are our guest, it is only right that I show you the hospitality of the Denoirs.¡±


    I looked at that hand like it was the jaws of a venomous snake, but as I chanced a glance around, I realized I had no reason to refuse. I bowed slightly, then took Highlady Denoir¡¯s hand in my own. It was surprisingly rough. ¡°Thank you for the offer, Highlady Denoir,¡± I said, trying to mask the tired wariness suffusing my bones. ¡°I¡¯ve been privileged all throughout the night to be your guest.¡±


    Lenora didn¡¯t immediately answer, instead linking her arm with my own as she half-dragged my reluctant form toward the dance floor. A medium-paced rhythm was playing at the moment, and though eyes turned to us as we entered the floor, they were considerably more relaxed. Dancing did loosen the collective tension in the room.


    Highlady Denoir and I began a simple back-and-forth dance as the music played, my hand resting near her upper back in a conservative manner. As the music went on, I sensed the looming topic on her tongue. Why she had pulled me into this in the first place.


    ¡°Of all the interruptions a Denoir ball has experienced,¡± she said at last as we stepped to the side, ¡°Never before has the High Vicar himself intruded. It sets an uncertain precedent, especially since it appeared his sole focus was a man unknown to most of Alacrya before today.¡±


    Lenora¡¯s words struck a chord in me. She was right. Tomorrow, most of Alacrya¡¯s upper class would know my name. I expected it to happen more gradually as my music spread, and I had trouble grasping the full implications such a splash would make.


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    Lenora¡¯s feet began to move faster. While I was in the position of lead, I struggled to match her steps. I wasn¡¯t a practiced dancer, and only my heightened reflexes and sense of footwork allowed me to keep up. An aggressiveness bled into her every step. A silent demand coursed. I chose to stay silent.


    Lenora¡¯s question built and built and built in her. I could almost feel it, rising to the surface like a bubble in a pond. ¡°Where is my son, Lord Daen?¡± she finally asked. ¡°He has accompanied you in every major event you have attended so far, even at the risk of involving himself in politics. Yet on this day, he does not appear. He has vanished from all our reports. Gone underground in a way we cannot follow. And now I hear that you clashed with the Vicar of Plague with companions.¡±


    Lenora¡¯s eyes were so taut I thought they would break. ¡°Where is my son, Lord Daen?¡± she demanded again, all political pretense gone. It had been weathered away under the stresses of the night. Chipped at by my music, battered by Varadoth¡¯s abrupt entrance, and finally broken by his offhand comment about Mardeth¡¯s promise to finish what he started.


    I exhaled, closing my eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you,¡± I finally said. Lenora¡¯s nails dug into my arm. ¡°He would never forgive me if I did.¡±


    ¡°He hurt himself,¡± she scoffed lightly, but her intent carried something other than disdain or disgust. ¡°I always knew he would. He rushes headlong into danger, uncaring about himself or what his actions may cause. I¡¯ve tried and tried and tried to pull him back, but he never listens. And now he¡¯s wounded, isn¡¯t he? Bad enough that he refuses even to visit anymore. He should have listened.¡±


    Lenora¡¯s quiet tirade washed over me as what I suspected were years of built-up worry and tension battered me. She quietly lamented his absence, his refusal to talk, and his distance. And over the air, I sensed her quiet grief.


    When it was done, the highblood woman was nearly in tears. Through it all, she¡¯d expertly continued the dance, moving as if by clockwork. She seemed to belatedly realize what exactly she¡¯d just said, for her arms tensed and she prepared to speak. ¡°Forgive me, I¨C¡±


    ¡°He never told you why he avoids you, did he?¡± I asked softly. ¡°And that¡¯s why it hurts so much.¡±


    For the first time in our waltz, Lenora Denoir missed a step. She didn¡¯t speak.


    I considered what I could say. As the woman had unknowingly vented her frustrations to me, I gradually realized that Sevren¡¯s one-sided depiction of Lenora was not all there was to her. He thought she was simply a manipulator out to sink her claws into him.


    And I remembered Sevren¡¯s parting words to me before entering the Relictombs. That if she pushed too hard, to use the name of Abigale as a blunt weapon. But that wasn¡¯t what I would do. I would use it as a bridge instead. ¡°He remembers Abigale,¡± I said softly. Lenora almost recoiled as I uttered the words. I sensed another familiar mana signature approaching, the power muffled and indistinct. ¡°And he believes it can¨Cit will¨Chappen to anyone,¡± I said, quietly nodding to the approaching Caera Denoir. ¡°That is why he does what he does. Because he thinks it will happen again.¡±


    I gently extracted myself from the shell-shocked Highlady Denoir. Her eyes were blown wide beneath her mask as she looked at me, and she made no move to pull me back into the waltz as I carefully backed away. I bowed lightly. ¡°Thank you for the dance and the talk, Highlady Denoir,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I hope we both learned something tonight that can help us in the future,¡± I added genuinely. Conflict resolution started with understanding, and neither Lenora nor Sevren understood each other. I¡¯d come to this ball to plant a seed of knowing in all present, and I hoped I had succeeded in leaving an even deeper root that would grow into a bridge.


    Caera halted in her steps as she saw the reaction of her adoptive mother. I suspected she had been ready to intervene in case Lenora managed to outright corner me again, but now that I¡¯d extracted myself, she seemed unsure.


    I pulled myself higher as I walked to the edge of the dance floor, feeling even more wrung out. Caera surreptitiously followed.


    Where the Highlord and Highlady¡¯s masks were silver, hers was a darker crimson. The adopted daughter of the Denoirs wore a sleek red dress that fit her form tightly. It had light frills along the seams that drew the eyes, and dark filigree lined the cuffs. The gown clung close to her upper body in a way that accentuated her form. Not entirely in a sensual way, though I certainly found it attractive. It was closer to the tight fit of fighting garb that allowed freedom of movement and the grace of flowing strikes. If Caera needed to fight, she would be unimpeded by her attire. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen Lenora so¡­ unsettled,¡± Caera said uncertainly as she stood by my side, observing the dance floor critically. She turned to look at me. ¡°Did you tell her what happened to my brother?¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°No,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I told her something that probably drove deeper into her bones than that.¡±


    The silence that followed was awkward as yet another Denoir woman worked up the courage to ask a looming question. ¡°Sevren followed you to confront Mardeth, didn¡¯t he?¡± she said, reasoning the same conclusion as Lenora. ¡°That¡¯s how he was hurt. And now he¡¯s researching something related to the Vicar of Plague.¡±


    I rubbed the bridge of my nose, the stresses of the day that had piled on demanding my back to bend. I was so tired. ¡°Yes,¡± I said. I clenched my fist, enveloping the two of us in a sound barrier. ¡°But he¡¯s found a way to keep himself locked away from all of your mother¡¯s probing without consequences. I¡­ I tried to talk to him about it, but he wouldn¡¯t listen,¡± I said, slouching for the first time as I remembered how poorly our last conversation had gone.


    ¡°And your aether abilities couldn¡¯t heal him?¡± Caera whispered quietly, sidling a bit closer and glaring at anyone that looked at us too long. She took the opportunity to link her arm with mine, making sure I couldn¡¯t get out of this so easily.


    I groaned. Why did every woman I interacted with have to be so deathly intelligent? Life would be so much easier if people were clueless sometimes.


    ¡°My arts are far more effective on myself,¡± I finally said with a blunt tone. ¡°Using them on other people has reduced results. Maybe one day I¡¯ll be able to fully heal him, but right now I think he¡¯s almost glad for the injury he received,¡± I said with a hint of anger. ¡°Because it provides justification for something he¡¯s wanted to do for so long.¡±


    Caera looked at me sadly. ¡°He¡¯s shutting everything out,¡± she said.


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m going to keep pushing him to talk with at least you,¡± I said. ¡°One doesn¡¯t know how precious their bonds are until they are lost. He doesn¡¯t understand that yet. Not fully.¡±


    Caera nodded in understanding. I opened my mouth to say something more, but then a flash of something floral and spiced caught my nose. My slouch vanished in an instant as my mind became more alert. My eyes darted around the room, unable to find the source.


    The adoptive daughter of the Denoirs noticed my change. Her fingers brushed her dimension ring as she subconsciously prepared for combat, covertly unlinking our arms. She shifted slightly in her sleek red dress, and I suddenly had no doubt it was designed for battle in mind. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked conspiratorially, trying to track what I sensed. ¡°What do you sense? Is it Varadoth again? You were the only one who noticed him coming at first.¡±


    I caught a flash of dark hair streaked with navy in the milling highblood guests before it disappeared from my sight: a glimpse of pale skin and a dark fur mantle before it was swallowed by the crowd.


    Caera focused on me, then brought a delicate hand to her lips as she chuckled. ¡°Oh,¡± she said teasingly. ¡°Not the kind of battle I was expecting.¡± Her white teeth flashed with mirth.


    That scent was drifting away, and I felt myself itching to follow. I looked at Caera, whose eyes sparkled with amusement. ¡°Go on,¡± she said with faux dismissiveness. ¡°Find your lady friend, Lord Daen. I wish you luck. I¡¯ll simply have to find another man to dance with tonight.¡±


    I coughed with a bit of embarrassment into my fist, feeling my face flush slightly. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll do that.¡±


    As I turned away, my enhanced hearing barely picked up Caera¡¯s muttered words. ¡°I have someone I need to chase, too.¡±


    I set off from the corner of the ballroom, tracing where I¡¯d last seen that barest glimpse. I couldn¡¯t sense my quarry as I weaved through startled highbloods. My fingers tingled as I pulled on my mana, circulating it through my body and into my nose.


    For a flash, I sensed Aurora¡¯s disapproval. I lurched midstep as I remembered her misgivings, but then the phoenix did something I hadn¡¯t expected.


    She let herself go distant, our tether becoming more and more indistinct. She wasn¡¯t rejecting me or pushing me away. No, she was giving me space. Why? I wondered absently, remembering her last words.


    You need to relax tonight, she begrudgingly admitted, her voice distant and airy. It would be unbecoming of me to deny you that.


    I felt a smile curve on my lips as I inhaled. Scents washed through my nose. The sweat of unnerved highbloods. The grape-red aroma of aged wine. The oiled steel of the perimeter guards. And a hundred different perfumes and colognes mixing together into a cloying scramble.


    But one stood out from them all. As I enhanced my senses, I could tell it wasn¡¯t just floral. There were hints of a familiar drink seeping throughout. I followed the undertones of Redwater tea through the milling highbloods, uncaring whether they shied away from me or not.


    I caught a flash of dark hair once more before Highlord Patamoor¡¯s body blocked the way. I took a step forward, intent on what was past him. Justul, however, shuddered visibly as I approached. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± he said shakily, taking a step backward. ¡°I¨C I wish you well on¨C¡±


    He tripped on a few nobles behind him, causing him to cry out in alarm as he fell over. I blinked as I realized what I¡¯d inadvertently done.


    I felt something brush my back, slow and graceful as it traveled up toward my neck with a delicate touch. I shivered involuntarily. Suddenly the scent of tea flowers was overwhelmingly close. My vision swam as it enveloped me, my mana-enhanced physique not ready for the sudden deluge. I nearly drowned in the aroma before it suddenly retreated again, leaving me shaking. I inhaled sharply through my mouth, gasping as I turned creakily.


    The perfume simmered in the opposite direction. I walked slower this time as I followed the trail, a quiet worry of being overwhelmed again holding my thoughts. I became more methodical and confident as I wove through the crowds. More sure of myself and my step as I passed the many dancing nobles.


    And I finally reached the end. A smaller door led out onto a spanning balcony, the late spring air just cool enough to be crisp. I cautiously opened the door, marveling at the wide expanse of stars beaming down from above. The moon was full in the sky, its reflected light spreading the balcony in misty silver that stole my breath.


    Standing near the railing was Renea Shorn.

 Chapter 137: Under the Moonlit Stars

    Toren Daen


    I stepped out into the night sky, feeling the warmth of the ballroom abandon me as the chill night air took its place. My assimilated physique¨Ccrossed with that of part-phoenix¨Cshrugged off the cold as if it wasn¡¯t there. And a deeper part of myself felt a flow of warmth from somewhere else.


    Renea Shorn stood by the balcony railing, her delicate pale hands resting on the balustrade. The full moon smiled down on her, casting a shimmering silver light over her almost petite form. Her midnight black dress drank in that silver greedily, the lines and furls demanding my attention. Flashes of deep purple accented the elegant dress, and I felt she looked more regal than any of the highbloods within. Her bangs shadowed her eyes as I pushed myself forward, leaning on the railing a few feet away.


    We were in the Central Dominion in the heart of the country, well east of Cardigan City. Small mountains dotted with forests meandered in the distance, sloping in easy flows. A stream cut through the estate, a gurgle of quiet water barely perceptible to my ears. From the balcony¡¯s elevated position, I could see a near-endless expanse. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And towering above it, stretching to either side as far as the eye could see, were the powerful peaks of the Basilisk Fang Mountains. I spotted the famous smoking Mount Nishan, the volcanic mount belching its simmering discontent into the atmosphere. They dwarfed even the small mountains around us, seeming to project their majesty as Varadoth enforced his strength. Each peak looked like the spike of a crown.


    And if they are a crown, I thought, Who is the king?


    Renea¡¯s gaze was locked north, her eyes contemplatively tracing the massive spears of the Fangs.


    ¡°Have you ever thought about the High Sovereign¡¯s home?¡± she asked me, not turning away from her inspection. ¡°Taegrin Caelum; the mighty fortress of Agrona Vritra himself.¡±


    I locked my fingers together as I peered at the shadowed mountains. Far in the distance, my final quarry waited. Nico Sever trained there under Melzri and Viessa Vritra, slowly honing himself to try and bring his old love to this world. After High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s questions regarding the reason for my strength, I¡¯d found myself subconsciously contemplating my enemies.


    ¡°I think about that mountain more often than I care to admit,¡± I said. What was Agrona doing up there? Did he know of my presence yet? I didn¡¯t think so. While he¡¯d ignored Arthur¡¯s meteoric rise, thinking him beyond his plans, Lady Dawn was an escaped prisoner. A lost game piece. I didn¡¯t think Agrona¡¯s ego could handle me running free. And if I were suddenly discovered, what risks would I take to escape? Who would be hurt in the aftermath? ¡°Those mountains cast a shadow larger than any other on this world.¡±


    Renea exhaled through her nose. She wore no mask, unlike everyone else in the ballroom. Her pale skin seemed to shine as the starlight kissed her face, making her deep red lips burn starkly. A thin streak of dark eyeshadow drew my eyes back to hers.


    ¡°They stretch so tall,¡± Renea said, a complicated cast to her tone. ¡°Higher than anything there is. Higher than I could ever reach.¡± Her hands clenched tightly around the banister. ¡°When High Vicar Varadoth asked you why you strove for power, you didn¡¯t tell the full truth, did you?¡± she asked, finally turning to look at me slightly. Her lashes seemed to split the light like blades.


    ¡°I told him what he wanted to hear. I told him the truth, of course, but only part of it.¡± I brushed a hand against the burnished steel mask on my face. ¡°I wore a mask.¡±


    ¡°And what did you hold back from him?¡± Renea inquired, her face slightly pursed in focus. ¡°What is underneath that mask of yours?¡± she pushed, sounding nearly insistent.


    ¡°I grow strong not just for the sake of killing,¡± I said with an exhale. ¡°There are those I wish to protect as well. You know this, don¡¯t you?¡± I asked, cocking my head at the austere dark-haired mage. ¡°It is what caused our first clash of wills, way back in East Fiachra.¡±


    Renea smiled slightly, the edges of her lips curling up softly as if something had settled into place for her. It was an expression that seemed almost shy. ¡°I started the same as you,¡± she said. ¡°I built my enterprises around the ethos of serving myself. I would take and take what I needed to keep myself afloat. But as time wore on¡­¡± the woman said, trailing off slightly. I sensed as her own cover of protocol gradually began to plaster back over her honest admissions.


    I couldn¡¯t let that happen. Not when we were so close. ¡°You saw the effects of your actions,¡± I prodded.


    Renea closed her eyes, her body seeming to tremble for the briefest of moments. ¡°No, Toren,¡± she finally said, allowing an open air of vulnerability to course through her tone. ¡°No. I saw the effects of someone else¡¯s actions. Someone like me.¡± She opened her eyes, her pupils searching for something in my own. I stayed still, one hand still clutching the railing tightly. ¡°I wear a mask greater than any others I know, and yet you continue to wrench my secrets from underneath it,¡± she whispered, sounding nearly sour. Disappointed in herself for letting me past those defenses.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see a mask on your face,¡± I said, shifting closer. ¡°Only on mine. I was the one who lied to the High Vicar tonight,¡± I teased.


    Renea simply hummed. I saw a quiet sorrow in the set of her shoulders as she gazed up at those mountains.


    Why does this hurt her? I asked myself, feeling compelled to wrap an arm around her in comfort. I stayed back, however, feeling as if this moment could shatter like glass.


    I looked back at where I knew Taegrin Caelum loomed. It was so far away and above me that I felt daunted from where I stood. What could be grander than the dungeon of a god at the peak of a mountain? I thought. What hope is there for all left in its shadow?


    And as my eyes traced those distant ridges, I glanced upward.


    The stars reasserted their hold on my soul, a hundred different colors weaving across the night sky like Mother Earth¡¯s blanket. I held back a gasp. I¡¯d seen this sight so many times, unobstructed as it was by the lack of pollution in this world. But every time, that tapestry of light never ceased to amaze me.


    And tonight, each of those far-distant twinkling stars felt even more special.


    ¡°Do you know the names of the constellations?¡± I found myself asking.


    Renea¡¯s saddened eyes finally looked above. As her dark, crystalline pupils reflected the hundreds of stars, she seemed to momentarily forget the horrible cast of Taegrin Caelum.


    ¡°I see the Struggling Ascender chasing the Basilisk¡¯s Tail,¡± she said quietly, raising a hand and tracing the paths of the stars with a delicate finger. ¡°Alongside those two, the Lightning Spell crackles. And even further west,¡± she said, turning, ¡°is the Obsidian Vault and the First Spellform. They say the High Sovereign looked to the heavens as he contemplated how to grant us mortals magic, and his gaze settled upon that cluster of stars. And from their condensed essence, he created the first mark for the first mage.¡±


    It was a pretty story, but patently false. And Renea seemed more bemused by the fairy tale than entranced.


    I nodded, moving a bit closer so our shoulders almost touched. ¡°Do you know how far away the stars are from this planet?¡± I asked next, peering down at the petite owner of Bloodstone Elixirs.


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    Renea¡¯s brows furrowed in a nondescript way as if she had suddenly encountered a difficult math problem or a confusing riddle. ¡°I do not,¡± she finally admitted. ¡°And I suppose you do, Toren?¡±


    I chuckled lightly, then raised a palm up to the sky, gesturing as if the moon was in my hand. A small orb of fire popped into existence on my palm, then solidified with an application of pure mana. Renea watched with a raised brow as I engaged my telekinetic emblem, allowing the small sphere of solid fire to float above my hand and rotate cooly. It cast a warm orange light on both of us, banishing the barest chill and soothing my bones.


    I smiled as I peered at the small blip of flame, controlled into the shape of a core. ¡°Light travels six trillion miles in a single year. A light year, for simplicity¡¯s sake,¡± I said, allowing the orb of fire to bob up and down slightly. ¡°On this scale, if this were our sun, then our planet would be¡­¡± I squinted, looking past Renea to the rolling hills smattered with plant life and foliage. ¡°Probably one of those hills, if I were to guess,¡± I said, my astrological knowledge weaker after over half a year away from Google.


    ¡°I feel as if you¡¯re trying to make a point, Toren,¡± Renea said with an artificially imperious tone, turning to face me. ¡°But I am a busy woman. I do not have time for long-winded diatribes.¡±


    I twirled my finger, allowing the small orb of fire to slowly circle Renea and me. She watched it dance about with a bemused expression. ¡°Patience, patience,¡± I chided good-naturedly. ¡°There¡¯s a method to my madness.¡±


    ¡°A method to your madness,¡± the woman said, a thoughtful expression slowly overcoming her features. She tilted her head, her dark tresses rolling over her shoulders as waves stretched against a beach. Her eyes peered at me from behind her bangs. ¡°I like that saying, Toren. I¡¯ll be keeping it.¡± She waved a hand dismissively as if she held all the power in the world. ¡°Continue. I am interested now.¡±


    I snorted in amusement. The small orb of fire settled back above my finger. ¡°If our universe were scaled down so that the sun was this size,¡± I said quietly, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper, ¡°Then if you traveled the real-life distance from our continent to Dicathen, you would still be far, far from the Struggling Ascender or the Lightning Spell.¡± I looked past Renea¡¯s shadowed eyes, feeling a touch of buried longing wrench itself to the surface. ¡°Those stars are thousands upon thousands of light years away,¡± I said breathily, gazing up into the brilliant sky. ¡°Innumerable other suns shining their light. There could be other worlds out there. Things far different from what we know here.¡±


    I felt the cool, delicate tips of Renea¡¯s fingers brush against my forearm, then stay there lightly. Testingly. ¡°Why do you think there are other worlds beyond this one?¡± she asked, her eyes glued to the night sky as well. She didn¡¯t seem to realize where she kept her other hand.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t there be?¡± I asked in turn. ¡°This ball of rock we live on is nothing compared to the vastness of the cosmos. We¡¯re so small here, Renea. The stars shine above even Taegrin Caelum.¡± I let out a long, long breath. ¡°Lord Indrath and the High Sovereign? Compared to that yawning distance of space, even they are small. We aren¡¯t as special as we like to pretend.¡±


    Renea raised her other hand to the sky, her body straightening as if to give her more reach. Her fingers splayed outward, and for a moment, it looked as if she grasped a star. Yet when she opened her hand, there was nothing there.


    ¡°They seem like they are so close,¡± Renea said, her other hand tensing slightly on my forearm. Her touch burned and chilled simultaneously, sending shivers up my spine. ¡°As if I could just pluck them out of the sky. And yet when I try, I am forced to recognize my hubris. That a mortal such as I will never scrape the stars, no matter how hard she tries.¡±


    At that moment, I almost felt my ability to make music was a waste. I could capture the rawest of emotions with my chords, drawing on the depths of shared humanity. Yet as silver moonlight pooled around Renea Shorn¡¯s feet, her mournful hand trying to desperately take a star from the sky, I wished I were a painter. This image of sorrowful mortality burned beautifully in my mind, the graceful lines and curves of this woman resting against the balcony etching themselves like a brand.


    But another selfish part of me, one that was buried deep, was glad I held no ability to draw. No others would see the shimmering wonder. None would have this privilege. This moment was ours alone.


    ¡°Maybe we can¡¯t reach the stars,¡± I said, moving closer to Renea. I held out my hand as that bead of solid fire settled over my palm. ¡°But we can bring the stars to us. That is our power,¡± I whispered.


    The austere woman gravitated closer, her eyes glued to my palm. I dove deep into my power, concentrating and willing the mana to obey. As I¡¯d assimilated with Lady Dawn¡¯s will, I¡¯d just barely managed to achieve this.


    The ball of fire spiked, popped, and began to hum as the sound mana around it pulled on its natural vibrating heat. It puffed up once, twice, then settled into a bead of humming red plasma.


    I exhaled, holding out the solid plasma bead to Renea. ¡°The stuff of stars,¡± I said breathily. Her perfume overwhelmed my senses and her closeness made me heady. I felt the blood rushing along my veins, the pulse of my own heartfire spiking. ¡°Here, it won¡¯t burn you,¡± I said, offering my hand.


    Renea¡¯s eyes watched her fingers almost disbelievingly as she rested her palm over mine, the bead of plasma clasped between our hands. Taking the opportunity, I wrapped my fingers around hers. ¡°See?¡± I said, leaning closer. ¡°It doesn¡¯t scald you.¡±


    Renea¡¯s hand squeezed my own, and I could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her skin. ¡°It will burn you,¡± she said in barely more than a whisper, her eyes searching my own as she shifted so that we were less than a foot apart. ¡°Eventually. That¡¯s what always happens.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t. It¡¯s only a steady warmth,¡± I said in a soothing tone, clasping her hand tighter. I felt nearly intoxicated by the shape of her face, crafted in gentle moonlight. How the lines of her jaw seemed to be made of sculpted alabaster. Her eyes that saw so much of my soul, and her cherry-red lips that beckoned me.


    Renea moved the hand she¡¯d kept along my forearm, raising it ever-so-slowly toward my head. Her long, lithe fingers brushed against the course metal of my mask. She gripped the side, then pulled it from my face. She let it drop unceremoniously, but I didn¡¯t even hear the metal hitting the ground. Her cloaking artifact couldn¡¯t hide the emotions roiling through her intent any longer, the passion bleeding through. Her heartbeat quickened under my hand, her pulse heightening as we leaned closer.


    My own heartbeat thrummed nearly in sync with hers, the world around me forgotten as the blood rushed to my head. The moonlight anointed us both, and I felt that the moment would never end.


    And so I felt when Renea¡¯s passion, so strong and clear over her intent, suddenly dipped. Our lips had nearly touched as her body visibly shuddered.


    I froze, blinking as a note of pure fear pierced her passion, like a streak of glaringly yellow paint tainting a red canvas. No longer was her heartbeat one of longing. I was ripped from the moment as Renea hastily withdrew her hand from mine. ¡°I¨C¡± she started, swallowing breathily, a flush still prominent on her pale cheeks. ¡°I must apologize, Lord Daen,¡± she said, backing away and taking the warmth with her. She turned away from me, visibly settling herself. ¡°I cannot do this.¡±


    My heightened breathing slowly returned to normal, alongside my sense of the world. I felt lost and adrift as if I were a sailor cast out to sea, but I reigned my emotions in. My heart still clenched painfully in my chest as I struggled to make sense of everything once again. I slowly curled in my right hand, feeling a startling coldness in the absence of Renea¡¯s slim fingers.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said once I finally regained control of my emotions, taking a careful step backward. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Renea said, her voice trembling slightly. She turned back to look at me, and I saw her attempting to smooth her features back to that of the stern mask she always wore. ¡°You delve deeper and deeper, Toren Daen, ripping away my protections one by one. And I find myself wanting them stripped raw the further this goes. You¡¯re breaking my mask. The only thing that keeps me safe.¡±


    She blinked, seeming to realize the tirade she¡¯d just gone on. She scoffed at herself, then turned back to look at the distant mountains. Her intent finally receded back under her cloaking artifact, closing me off like a heavy steel door slamming shut.


    I knelt, picking up the birdlike mask I¡¯d been wearing before. My eyes followed the divots and lines etched into the surface, then inspected the deep handprint Mawar¡¯s decay magic had left. I ran a finger along the beak, a line of blood drawn as my finger traced itself to the point.


    ¡°We need our masks,¡± I found myself saying. I thought of how many walls I¡¯d erected around myself in this world. How many lies I¡¯d told others and myself just to keep my sanity safe. I peered into the dark eyeholes of the mask in my hands, feeling for once how heavy the dark steel truly was. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve hurt you,¡± I said, internally making a decision. I might have said that the plasma in my hand wouldn¡¯t burn Renea, but I couldn¡¯t ignore the reality any longer.


    One day, I was going to kill Nico Sever. And what would happen after that? What would become of all the relationships I¡¯d built in Alacrya?


    I came back to that ever-present gnawing wound in the depths of my soul. Something I¡¯d known from the start, even as I¡¯d encouraged this burning flame to grow. No matter how close I grew to a woman, I could never show them my true self. I touted myself as an honest man, yet I¡¯d lied when I told Renea I would not burn her.


    I was a lit fire. Anything that grew too close to me on this continent would go up like smoke once I completed my mission.


    ¡°I¡¯ll endeavor to keep our interactions professional henceforth, Lady Shorn,¡± I said, standing and putting my mask back on. I ignored the way the words tore at me, wrenching emotion from my gut in a way I didn¡¯t expect. I bowed slightly as I retreated from the balcony. The last thing I saw was the tremble of Lady Shorn¡¯s shoulders.

 Chapter 138: The Truth of Blithe

    Sevren Denoir


    I stepped over a protruding wire as it weaved through the grass like a serpent, then avoided a table I¡¯d hastily set up to hold my miscellaneous tools. I huffed as the limp right arm of my protective suit nearly got caught on the table.


    I was trudging up one of the rolling hills that surrounded the small slice of a town, making my way to my main testing area. I¡¯d situated myself on a plateau that loomed above the rest of the area.


    I adjusted my garb with a grumble, noting the stuffy full mask and air-tight seals. I¡¯d almost forgotten to put on full mana protective gear in my haste to complete this next test, and I¡¯d needed to fetch it from my main store of supplies back at the main house. The baggy clothing was stiflingly hot, but I didn¡¯t know what would happen as a result of this next test. The small mana beast that I held in my other arm stared blankly forward, its scaled rodent snout twitching.


    I stared to the side as I finally entered the walled enclosure I¡¯d created. On a nearby table, the results of my last experiment revealed themselves.


    Toren had told me of what Mardeth had been doing in his experiments, and I¡¯d begrudgingly realized I would need to perform a mimicry and observe the effects for true understanding. Seeing as I couldn¡¯t¨Cand wouldn¡¯t¨Cuse people to test the blithe I had stolen, I¡¯d needed to use the next best thing.


    Mardeth had gone out of his way to use unadorned to test his sick serum instead of mages, and that distinction felt important. All people in Alacrya had cores, but an unad¡¯s was inert and dull, the mana within charged with energy but not a live wire. To try and mimic that effect, I¡¯d used a frozen skaunter corpse with a beast core within.


    The scaled rodents were a staple in modern science for testing, at least among the researchers who couldn¡¯t afford to corral men and women into their sick schemes. I scoffed internally at the thought. Most of the prominent researchers I¡¯d interacted with viewed testing on skaunters as a sign one was poor and could not afford a slave to experiment on.


    I banished those thoughts from my mind as I carefully set down the white skaunter in my hands on another table. It didn¡¯t fight and didn¡¯t resist as its legs hit the pristine metal surface, looking up at me with dull eyes.


    I carefully strapped the skaunter¡¯s legs to the table, the task monotonous and difficult with one hand. As the leather straps cinched around the beast¡¯s legs, it began to shuffle a bit nervously. I stroked it on the head, cooing slightly to calm it down. It eventually settled back, trusting me.


    I grit my teeth and turned away from the mana beast, quietly acknowledging the horror that was about to happen to it. I strode over to the table of my last experiment, my eyes roaming over the mutilated body. I struggled to restrain my disgust, fearing I might retch inside of my suit.


    I¡¯d injected the dead beast¡¯s core with the barest application of blithe, knowing that I barely had any of the substance to spare. The mana within a beast core was similarly dormant as a non-mage''s, and sure enough, I¡¯d seen results.


    It took a long time for the effects to spread. But spread they had. The red-green substance had gradually mutated the mana within, devouring the latent mana at a brutally slow pace. Once it had fully corrupted the core, the substance, as if it had a mind of its own, traveled along the mana channels and veins of the corpse, twisting and warping everything in its path.


    It had taken a painfully long time for the substance to fully spread, mutating itself along the way. Yet the results were clear.


    Boils and cysts of caustic green and red substance had bubbled all along the corpse¡¯s body before bursting, the sludge that exploded forth decaying everything it touched with a putrid sizzle.


    This happened to people, I thought, looking at the final result. People who were alive. People who could feel every inch of what happened.


    From my testing, I knew the inner reactions had finally ceased. The blithe was no longer an active substance. I¡¯d carefully dissected the creature using a scalpel of basilisk blood, noting that the substance within didn¡¯t seem able to spread any further. But the most curious part was that the mana, though inert, seemed to bear a changed signature. A dark and caustic accent that felt intentional to me, though I couldn¡¯t understand why.


    Using a long rod, I carefully scraped the desecrated corpse into a long tub, then sealed the top. I would eventually burn it to make sure every trace of its taint was eradicated. I stared for a long time at the blood-red scalpel I¡¯d used to cut into the monstrous corpse as it rested on the table. The material wouldn¡¯t easily wither or decay in the face of decay-aspected mana, but that sharp edge reminded me painfully of the second dagger I¡¯d lost.


    I shook my head. It was time for the next experiment.


    I exhaled as I turned back to the bound lab skaunter. Its eyes looked up at me with the inbred passivity of a wogart, utterly uncaring for its wellbeing. I quietly acknowledged what I was about to do. The gravity of this action.


    I hefted a small syringe, noting the churning green liquid within. Red lines like veins pulsed and moved, swirling about the caustic substance like serpents. This was almost my last bit of blithe, so I needed to make this experiment count.


    I leaned over the skaunter. It wriggled slightly, seeming to sense what was coming. The beast, which I knew would have been docile under any other experiment, seemed to understand the wrongness of my slightly glowing syringe. It screeched slightly, fear growing in those once-trusting eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, pressing the needlepoint to its sternum. ¡°I wish there was another way for you,¡± I added quietly as the beast began to scream in utmost terror. The blithe in my syringe seemed to react, churning faster in what felt like anticipation. I blocked out the horrible noise and slammed the syringe deep, the point piercing the mana beast¡¯s core. I slowly pressed the plunger as the screams became deafening, the monster making sounds of too-human terror. It thrashed against its bonds, trying and failing to escape.


    I took a step back, thinking the reaction would take time to spread as it had for the dead mana beast. I would need to grab some of my mana-sensing tools to try and decipher what exactly had changed in the beast¡¯s mana by the end of this and compare it to the readings I¡¯d gotten from the dead creature.


    But I was alarmed as I felt the thing¡¯s mana swell. I jumped back in horror as the skaunter¡¯s cries of terror shifted to guttural whimpers of pain, green and red lines stretching along its visible skin as the blithe spread at a horrifying pace. The corruption was moving far faster than I had expected, the horrible caustic sludge racing along its channels and devouring its mana. The monster¡¯s struggles weakened quickly, its legs kicking only intermittently as hell took hold.


    And then the horrible screaming cut off. My startled gaze centered on the monster¡¯s exposed gullet.


    A burbling, chunky mist of green and red was amassing there. I paled inside my suit, recognizing what was about to happen from years of facing catastrophic experiments.


    I engaged my regalia, Dictate of Mass, jumping back as a caustic mist erupted from the skaunter¡¯s mouth. The mist lurched toward me, seemingly with a mind of its own. I saw death in that substance as it tried to swallow me whole.


    I blurred backward fifty feet in nearly an instant, stumbling on the ground as my balance¨Coff due to the lack of an arm¨Cmade me stumble and trip. I tumbled into one of my tables, knocking a dozen instruments off as I nearly rolled down the hill. Metal flashed and glass shattered as my sloppy mishmash of items went everywhere.


    But my eyes were glued on the mist as it paused for the barest instant midair once I¡¯d blurred away, seeming to lose interest in me. It immediately jerked to the side, streaking toward the table where the skaunter corpse had rested. The red within pulsed, then dimmed. And then¡­ the table absorbed the blithe mist.


    No, I realized in horror. It¡¯s not the table that¡¯s absorbing it. The red swirls within the aerosolized green sludge¨Cthe color a bit too dark to be blood¨Cseemed to draw it onward. Yet the mist didn¡¯t stop coming.


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    I got to my feet worriedly, recognizing this experiment had pushed past the bounds I¡¯d intended. I needed to abort it somehow before it got out of control. I edged forward, looking at the poor skaunter I¡¯d subjected to this horror.


    It was still alive. It twitched weakly every now and then, a constant stream of horrid mist streaming from the depths of its throat.


    The blithe is forcing its mana core to produce that mist, I realized in horror. The thing writhed in horrid pain, but it was unable to even voice its screams any longer. Until all the mana in its core is converted, it will continue to be used like a wretched battery.


    I hastily searched through my dimension ring, withdrawing a prototype weapon I¡¯d slapped together a while ago. I couldn¡¯t afford to get close to that substance. It seemed to sense whenever a person neared and changed its directive to attack them instead.


    Toren had told me of the weapons of that strange land he¡¯d visited. He¡¯d called them guns, and he¡¯d allowed me to hold the Relictombs¡¯ crude recreation of one of those guns. And unbeknownst to him, I¡¯d engaged Scouring Purpose while holding it.


    I leveraged my own prototype recreation of a gun, aiming down the sights toward the poor skaunter. I engaged Dictate of Mass, decreasing the apparent mass of one of the small projectiles within the chamber. I usually only used my regalia on myself, considering it was exceedingly difficult to affect foreign items the larger they grew. But these bullets were small enough.


    I pulled the trigger, a chain reaction of lightning mana energizing the long barrel of the gun. The charge ignited a small, explosive powder I¡¯d concocted, and the metal slug within shot off with the force of a rocket and a clap of thunder.


    My arm was wrenched backward from the force, my shoulder nearly ripping itself from my socket as I toppled over again. The barrel of the gun in my hand exploded from the force, spraying shrapnel everywhere. My protective suit protected me from most of it, and underneath, my mana barrier shrugged off the rest. I grunted in pain, cradling my numb hand.


    I looked up, blinking through the pain. And exhaled at what I saw.


    The bullet I¡¯d fired was about as large as my thumb, but I wouldn¡¯t have guessed that from the devastation it had caused. I gulped as I looked at where the lab skaunter used to be, the table obliterated. A large hole burrowed into the dirt where the projectile theoretically threaded through.


    But the mist had been stopped.


    ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns, Toren,¡± I said aloud. ¡°What kind of weapons did they create in that land?¡± I asked mutely, the prototype perhaps working too well.


    The original construct Toren showed me would have fired a smaller bullet and with less force, considering the moment my Dictate of Mass disengaged on the bullet once it left my range it would retain its former mass while retaining most of its hurtling speed. But still.


    But I had other problems to worry about now. I loped forward, noting the smoking destruction and tinge of death in the air. Blithe left a stench behind that seemed to seep into the land itself, corrupting and tainting everything it brushed.


    I looked down at the table that appeared to be absorbing the blithe mist automatically.


    And my blood ran cold. It wasn¡¯t the table that absorbed that horrible mana. It was the blood-red scalpel. The basilisk-blood blade churned with inner light, a trapped vortex of ultra-condensed mana caged within. The red and green energy writhed and swirled, but it was thoroughly trapped with no escape.


    ¡°By the Sovereigns,¡± I said, finally putting it all together. That energy was trapped. Contained. But if something pierced that prison, allowing a funnel out?


    I stumbled out, recognizing the implications of all of this. This new strain of blithe was a mana plague that would spread on its own once released, hopping from mage to mage with abandon. And once it was done and had sated its fill, all that energy would funnel into the closest basilisk blood crystal.


    I stumbled backward, tripping over the remains of my prototype gun. I ate the dirt, then cursed as I tore my way out of my protective suit with rabid claws. I couldn¡¯t stay here anymore. Mardeth''s plans were so much worse than anything we¡¯d suspected.


    I tumbled down the hill as I tried to run for the exit portal, my balance still off from my lost arm. I scraped my arm on the pavement as my body finally reached the town zone proper, all of my equipment behind forgotten. I needed to talk to Toren. He had to know what I¡¯d just discovered.


    I forgot to engage my spellform as I rushed through the descension portal, belatedly cursing myself as I appeared in the second layer of the Relictombs. I tore my way forward, ignoring a worried receptionist trying to ask me about any relics I might have.


    ¡°Sir, sir!¡± she said, a note of fear in her voice as I stalked forward. ¡°You need to be tested for relics! It¡¯s protocol! Please!¡±


    I snatched at the pocketwatch-like inquirer in her hands with my sole remaining limb, aggressively scanning it over my body and then thrusting it back into the receptionist¡¯s arms once it came back negative. Now that I was out of the zone, I¡¯d belatedly realized I didn¡¯t know where Toren was.


    He was at that ball, wasn¡¯t he? I thought urgently. Then he¡¯d be in Cardigan¡¯s outskirts. I need to get a tempus warp there now!


    I took a few steps forward, ignoring the startled looks of the mages around me. I heard my name muttered more than once, the terms ¡°cripple¡± and ¡°wounded¡± popping up.


    I pushed those away, lamenting this inevitable fate. I needed to¨C


    ¡°Sevren?¡± a painfully familiar voice said, causing me to freeze in my tracks.


    I turned robotically, looking behind me with wide eyes. Caera¡¯s scarlet eyes were glued to the hole in my sleeve, her jaw working soundlessly. She was wearing a sleek red dress that seemed more fit for a banquet than the second layer of the Relictombs.


    I hadn¡¯t seen her in months, and yet she seemed so much older to me.


    ¡°Caera?¡± I asked mutely, feeling a spike of something pierce through my sole focus. ¡°What¨Cwhat are you doing here?¡±


    Her eyes bore into my empty sleeve as she opened her mouth to speak. I felt an urge to turn my right side away, shame clouding my mind. My sister shouldn¡¯t see me weak or wounded. It was my job to stop her from ever seeing something like that. I turned my body sideways, hiding my missing arm from her sight.


    ¡°Your friend,¡± she said, swallowing, ¡°Toren said you were hiding where none of the Denoirs would find you. And I thought about it for a while, and I realized what that meant,¡± she said, turning a glance toward the nearby ascension portal. ¡°I... I was going to go on an ascent. Until I found you.¡±


    I felt anger replace my earlier shame. ¡°No, that¡¯s foolish. You shouldn¡¯t have done that, but I¨C¡± I ground my teeth angrily. ¡°You said you spoke with Toren?¡± I pushed instead. ¡°Where is he? I need to talk to him. Now.¡±


    Caera moved closer so our voices couldn¡¯t be heard. She took in my ragged appearance, darting eyes, and tense posture with a calmness I had never expected from my baby sister. I found myself unsure of how she could be so still. ¡°Is this about Mardeth?¡± she asked with a whisper.


    I swallowed, internally cursing Toren and his loose tongue. ¡°It doesn¡¯t concern you,¡± I deflected. ¡°Just, please tell me. Was he in Cardigan, at that ball?¡±


    ¡°He was at Cardigan,¡± Caera hissed, ¡°I don¡¯t know where he is now. He left in a slump after the ball. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s there anymore. But that doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she snapped. ¡°You¡¯re shutting me out! Treating me like some sort of child to protect!¡±


    I turned around ignoring my sister for the moment. I needed to. I couldn¡¯t afford to listen to her right now. And if Toren wasn¡¯t in Cardigan and he wasn¡¯t in the Relictombs, what was the next most logical place he would be?


    I forced my legs to march me away from my sister. Behind me, she scoffed. ¡°You act like you¡¯re different from her,¡± she called after me, anger coursing through her voice. ¡°But you¡¯re treating me just like Lenora does!¡±


    I froze in my step, then turned back to look at Caera.


    She marched up to me, a flush on her face. She seemed to no longer care for the watching eyes and listening ears as she slammed a finger into my chest. ¡°You tell me you¡¯ve got everything handled. That I don¡¯t need to worry about anything. That you¡¯ll manage it all. There¡¯s nothing I need to do. I can just sit pretty and waste away in the Denoir estate like a flower, right?¡±


    I opened my mouth, the touch of her finger feeling more like the point of a knife.


    ¡°And you both think I don¡¯t know what this world is like. You treat me like a glass sculpture that could break at any moment! But you don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve struggled with, because you don¡¯t dare ask!¡±


    I stumbled backward again, raising my hand to my head. ¡°Caera, you can¡¯t¨C¡± I said, the parallels stinging me more than I ever expected. ¡°It¡¯s¨C¡±


    It¡¯s dangerous? I asked myself. Is that what you were going to say?


    I trailed off as I met my sister¡¯s angry eyes. I needed to see Toren. It¡­ it wouldn¡¯t be so dangerous to take her along with me, would it?


    I exhaled. ¡°We¡¯re¡­ we¡¯re going to Fiachra,¡± I said finally. ¡°That¡¯s the next place I¡¯ll check for Toren.¡±


    Caera¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You mean¨C¡±


    ¡°Just come on,¡± I said harshly, already regretting my decision. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time. He¡¯s the only one who can do something about what I discovered.¡±


    I started walking away, my own thoughts a thunderstorm. Caera¡¯s steps fell in nervously behind me like a shadow. I could feel her desire to speak. But somehow, she smothered that desire with willpower. I felt surprised as my sister adopted the air of a trained soldier focused on a mission as she walked beside me, her intent growing to match my own. The angry girl faded away as resolve took its place. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    We had a mission to complete.

 Chapter 139: A Message

    Toren Daen


    I tossed a small ball of solid sound up, watching how the surrounding firelight twisted and warped within the oil-like shine of vibrations. It hummed with an oscillating tone as I caught it, then tossed it up again.


    I was in an inn on the outskirts of the second layer of the Relictombs, having paid for a single night. I was lying on the bed, unable to sleep. A few hours had passed since I¡¯d left the ball following my moonlit meeting with Renea Shorn, and the experiences continued to flash through my mind.


    I caught the ball of solid sound once more. I called it solid sound, but in truth, it was a loose collection of churning sound mana held together by motes of pure mana interlaced within. In this state, it vibrated noticeably. I peered at the center of the construction.


    ¡°Did you expect this outcome?¡± I asked aloud, tossing the solid ball of sound back up after a brief pause. I wasn¡¯t angry as I asked the question. Just curious. ¡°Considering how you withheld your reservations that one time, it seems like you might have.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s shade sat solemnly in a nearby chair, a darker cast to her dusky purple skin. ¡°I did not have any expectations for what would happen after I distanced myself,¡± she said. ¡°I recognized the stressors that had acted on you all throughout the night. I simply thought¡­¡± she shook her head. ¡°I simply thought that perhaps the affections you held for this Renea Shorn may have soothed your soul. I should have seen further ahead. Unfortunately, it is only my brother who bears that power.¡± She looked up at me. ¡°Why do you think you can not find a woman to truly love you?¡±


    The ball of sound thwacked against my palm as I caught it again. ¡°No relationship can support itself on a foundation of lies,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°And the more Renea and I spoke, the more our protective masks wore away. The ones I think we both needed. They keep us safe. From the world.¡± I furrowed my brow. ¡°From each other.¡±


    I¡¯d found a rare understanding with the austere owner of Bloodstone Elixirs the more we interacted. Another person who cared for those beneath her, who desperately tried to make things better within a world that wanted anything but. A common struggle bound our hearts. Yet I¡¯d also been told by more than one person that she was dangerous in a way I didn¡¯t understand. She was a schemer and a political mind, one that uncomfortably reminded my bond of Agrona. Could I, in good conscience, proceed with something so untenable?


    Aurora had told me Renea was dangerous. Sevren had told me Renea was dangerous. Renea herself had told me she was dangerous. Yet I discounted the real dangers she presented from a perspective clouded by loneliness and a desire to find someone like me.


    Foolish, stupid man, I berated myself sourly. I thought myself above the whims of naivety, but clearly not. Thinking with your heart instead of your mind.


    If Renea herself hadn¡¯t borne the forethought and maturity to break things off before they progressed too far, where would I have found myself?


    Aurora remained silent for a moment as she allowed me to process this, but when she spoke, it was far from what I expected.


    ¡°At the start, I never believed I could love Andravhor,¡± Aurora said solemnly. I caught the ball of solid sound, turning to look at the phoenix. I let the mana dissipate as I felt her prepare her words. ¡°I was an asura of the phoenix race, nearly immortal. He was bound to his finite lifespan. And furthermore, my understanding and view of the world was as limited as the heartfire in his chest, while his wisdom stretched past my own years. For all intents and purposes, we should have been utterly incompatible. Yet we wore our reservations away.¡± The phoenix ran a hand over the hole in her chest, her burning eyes closed in memory. ¡°I mean to say that these things are not as impossible as you may think them, Toren. You are young and inexperienced in love, as was I. But you shall find someone who can fulfill you. There will be a time after your mission is done.¡±


    I opened my mouth to respond, but a swift knock on my door caught my attention. I tilted my head in confusion as I swung off the bed, then walked toward the door. On the other side, I could sense the sheer anxiety and fear of whoever was waiting.


    I cautiously opened the door, looking down at the timid man I¡¯d rented the room from. He shuffled from foot to foot, something held tightly in his hands.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I asked, feeling confused.


    He licked his lips. ¡°I was¡­ I was supposed to deliver this to you,¡± he said, quickly shoving a letter into my hands. I accepted it with a furrowed brow as the man retreated back down the hall, seeming ready to jump at his own shadow.


    I looked down at the letter. It was sealed with a nondescript wax, no indicator of the sender. Cautiously, I broke the seal, pulling out the letter within.


    I felt my hands tighten as I looked over what the paper displayed, my mind spinning as adrenaline began to course through my veins. The pristine beaker sigil of Bloodstone Elixirs was painted in dark ink across the paper, except a deep red streak had slashed straight through the glass. It wasn¡¯t ink that crossed out that image.


    Beneath the threatening symbol, someone had written a message in blood.


    The first of a promise.


    Fire erupted from my hands, burning the letter away as I burst out the door. I skidded to a halt, my eyes tracing down the hallway. I slammed a telekinetic shove into the wood beneath me, splintering it as I blurred to the front of the building.


    The owner of the inn yelled in surprise as I popped into existence next to him. He tried to stumble backward, but my hand, quick as a whip, snapped out to grip his collar.


    ¡°Who gave you that letter?¡± I demanded, feeling my mana thrum in my veins. My heartbeat picked up speed, matching the tempest in my head.


    ¡°A vicar!¡± the man yelped as my fingers dug into his tunic. ¡°Please! Please, I don¡¯t want any trouble with¨C¡±


    I released the inn owner. He tumbled to the floor, then scrambled away from me. Ignoring him, I blurred out the door, the implications clear.


    Mardeth is going to try and kill Renea, I thought, slingshotting myself into the air and above the many stretching buildings in the Second Layer of the Relictombs. My earlier reservations and self-loathing fell away as thunder sounded in my ears. And not just her! All the mages of Bloodstone Elixirs are at risk. I need to get to her first!


    I engaged my telekinetic emblem to its utmost as I blurred along the rooftops, sweat beading on my brow. I felt my vision narrow as the surroundings zipped beneath me.


    A few mages saw my approach near the descension portal to the first layer of the Relictombs. They started yelling, raising the alarm as I rocketed toward the portal. I saw a caster trying to erect a metal wall in front of the portal, blocking my further progress. No doubt they thought I was some sort of threat.


    ¡°Out of my way!¡±


    I yelled, rearing my fist back as a towering wall crossed my path. A telekinetic push condensed around my knuckles, rivulets of fire coursing through.


    My fist obliterated the spell, my momentum carrying me onward. Metal erupted into brutal shrapnel as I flitted through the gap I¡¯d created, splashing through the portal in a blip.


    I exploded into the first layer of the Relictombs, skidding to a halt, my fist clenched and steaming. Ascenders shied away from me in droves, calling for a guard of some sort. I ignored them, my eyes centering on the descension portal not far away.


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    I zipped toward it, uncaring of the disruptions I¡¯d left in my wake. I could sense some fairly powerful mages rising to try and pursue me, but I was too fast. The dark atmosphere blurred past me as I silently begged that I wasn¡¯t too late. A burst of wind traveled in my wake, kicking up dust and throwing back hoods as people ducked for cover. I reached the descension portal barely half a minute later, sweat beading across my forehead.


    The attendant lurched as my feet slammed into the stone platform bearing the descension portal, the pane of purple yawning high. A few of the mages around us tried to draw their weapons, but I pressed my mind into the ambient mana. My intent surged, compelling most to their knees.


    I stalked toward the attendant, who shied away as I loomed like a knife. ¡°You are going to key that portal to Aedelgard right now,¡± I said in quiet order, struggling to contain my mana and emotions. Around me, mages struggled to breathe. ¡°Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°I-I-¡± the poor door operator croaked, his eyes blown wide with fear, ¡°I don¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Do it,¡± I hissed, ¡°Or whatever happens next is on your head,¡± I threatened.


    The man blubbered, a dark spot appearing between his legs. As the mages trying to pursue me reached my range, they too quaked under the weight of my intent. I ignored them, glaring daggers into the terrified operator as he keyed something into one of his devices. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said, speaking as if he was offering something to a god. ¡°Please, just go!¡±


    I forced myself to relent in my forceful intensity for the barest of moments. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said through gritted teeth, sifting through my dimension ring. Withdrawing my reserve bag of coins, I dumped it at his feet before I prepared to enter the descension portal. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said with a breath.


    Then I stepped through the portal. For the barest of instants, my scattered mind realized I didn¡¯t truly know if I was going to Aedelgard. That operator could have keyed me into any descension portal in Alacrya, dooming me further. It would have been a fitting retaliation.


    But as the kiss of the sea brushed my nose, I knew I was in the right place. I exhaled, clenching and unclenching my fists before I rushed out of the Aedelgard Ascender¡¯s Association. I burst into the rolling streets, my eyes scanning for¨C


    There, I thought, spotting my destination. The headquarters of Bloodstone Elixirs stood out, even amidst the architecture in Aedelgard. I prayed to whatever higher power that existed that I wasn¡¯t too late. Aether. Fate. Whatever would listen. I arced higher into the air as I crested a building, then used dual pulls of my telekinesis on two nearby buildings to slingshot me further.


    As I reached the borders of Bloodstone Elixirs, I began to slow, forcefully calming my uneven breath. I quested out with all my senses, trying to perceive a threat. I hopped up onto one of the parapets surrounding the building.


    I inhaled, hearing half a hundred heartfires thrum against my ears. It seemed that Bloodstone was having a slower day, the signatures I could sense within milling about with their only concern being their work. Was I wrong?


    I peered at the windows, allowing my power to spread out more. Yes, it seemed that¡­


    I felt someone else¡¯s attention on me, piercing and hard. I swallowed, looking down into the flowered garden courtyard of Bloodstone Elixirs where I had sensed the attention.


    Renea Shorn looked up at me with a deeply disapproving look, her hands clasped in front of her body. A ways behind her, Xander shifted uncomfortably, having failed to notice me in his constant vigil. I swallowed as our eyes met, images of what had happened between us not six hours ago coming to the forefront of my mind.


    I exhaled. I needed to set my personal reservations aside. There were lives at stake.


    I let myself drop into the courtyard, barely bending my knees as my feet impacted the soft grass. I strode toward the owner of Bloodstone Elixirs, burying the desire to simply turn away.


    I stood a respectful distance away. ¡°Lady Shorn,¡± I said in greeting, my tone more even than I expected.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± Renea said, a disapproving¨Calmost angry note¨Clacing to her voice. ¡°I would like to know why you have so rudely barged into my building.¡± sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I looked around again now that I was closer, trying to sense anything that could be amiss. I didn¡¯t think the message Mardeth had sent me was a fluke. He wasn¡¯t the type for those kinds of games. Did that mean I was early?


    ¡°I received a message,¡± I said after a moment, unable to divine anything out of the ordinary. ¡°From our mutual enemy. Claiming he would reap blood here. I thought it wise¡­¡± I said, trailing off. Was I even thinking at all? No, I hadn¡¯t been. I¡¯d been acting, driven purely by raw emotion. The damage I¡¯d left behind in the Relictombs rushing here was proof of that. ¡°I felt it wise to move as quickly as I could. See if I could make some sort of difference,¡± I said, reprising my statement.


    Renea¡¯s frown deepened. Part of me still hoped her displeasure was not at me. Then she turned toward Xander behind her. ¡°Xander,¡± she said in a commanding tone. ¡°Order the evacuation of our employees inside. Take them to the predetermined panic point for emergency attacks. This is not a drill,¡± she said evenly.


    Xander gulped visibly, his eyes darting to look at me with uncertainty before he rushed toward the building behind him.


    My senses blared at me as something long and dark streaked toward Xander¡¯s retreating back in a blur. Acting on the barest of instincts, I rocketed forward, drawing Oath from my side in an explosive tug. My blade barely smashed the black object away mid-air, but the impact made my teeth rattle and my arm shook from the blow.


    A long, dark arrow of blood iron was embedded into the soft dirt nearby. Xander, who seemed momentarily frozen from his near brush with death, burst back into motion, darting toward the building to sound the alarm. I barely spared him a glance as he made it inside.


    I turned on my feet, mana thrumming through my veins as I felt the mana around me surge. Blackened heartfires pulsed in my ears as they surrounded the courtyard, murky and dark energy tainting the air.


    Jorta, the vicar whose stomach I had obliterated, sneered at me from a rooftop beyond the courtyard, a longbow clasped in his hands. His vicar¡¯s robes were tattered and worn, and the place I¡¯d hit with a return arrow was patched over with a sickly green, bulbous mass. His heartfire, above all others present, felt sick.


    I moved back to Lady Shorn, trying to cover her with my body. I didn¡¯t even glance at her, too preoccupied with trying to keep all the Vritra-blooded mages within my sight.


    Their hoods were all up, obscuring their features, but I could hear the darkness in their heartfires as a discordant wrongness in my ears. Five in total, including Jorta. They were strong.


    ¡°You got here fast, Toren Daen,¡± Jorta mocked from afar. ¡°I¡¯d hoped you¡¯d be later, so you could see the aftereffects of Mardeth¡¯s vengeance.¡± His leering eyes flicked to Renea. ¡°So you could watch your petty lover¡¯s blood taint the stones, knowing it was your fault for intervening in something greater than you. So the corpses of all the dead men in that building would lie heavy on your soul.¡±


    He sneered, drawing his bowstring back to his ear. ¡°But it will be satisfying to see it in person, too.¡±


    He released his blood iron arrow. It hurtled toward me in a blur, but unlike what I¡¯d seen before, it split. One arrow diverged to become two, then four, then eight, then sixteen as a barrage of metal spikes surged toward Renea and me. The mages surrounding us added their spells in tandem, trying to overwhelm us all. Bullets of dark fire, grave-black ice, and lurching dusky lightning added themselves to the wall of mana that sought to overwhelm us all.


    I growled, settling into stance. The barrage wasn¡¯t aimed directly at me and Renea, but more at everything in my near vicinity. I threw up a large pane of telekinetic force, hoping to disperse the oncoming projectiles. The blackened lightning shifted, crashing into the side. It crackled solidly into the dirt, the dark ice following suit. But too late did I realize my mistake.


    I could divert this barrage, but it would pepper the building behind me like a smattering of dark hell. All the men and women inside would be riddled with poisoned arrows, grave ice, and soulfire.


    I hastily threw out a stream of solid fire beads, allowing them to elongate into daggers. The weapons surged forward under my control, trying to divert the dark spikes further. Oath flashed as it smashed three in quick succession, but there were too many. I¡¯d have to dip into my Acquire¨C


    A flash of brilliant white mana burned into existence nearby, arcing into the sky. It expertly cut off the paths of the projectiles I couldn¡¯t deflect and divert, smacking them aside as if they were little more than twigs. The dark mages all halted their barrage in surprise, looking at something by my side. The mana in the air churned with an absolute control I had rarely seen, gravitating in a steady rhythm.


    I turned robotically, feeling my skin tingle from the closeness to the power. Renea Shorn¡¯s face still bore that disapproving cast as before, but I felt part of my insides twist in fear at something I couldn¡¯t quite comprehend. In her hand was a translucent blade of pure white mana, the edge sharp enough to sever my soul.


    She flicked her mana blade down, the weapon carving a thin line into the dirt beside us. She didn¡¯t even move into a stance, yet I found that all the more intimidating. Her weapon hummed with power as she prepared to fight.


    I¡¯d known she was a mage. A powerful one. But the glimpse I got at her vibrating mana made me shudder.


    Within my head, Aurora audibly growled.


    ¡°You come into my place of power,¡± Renea annunciated slowly, as if she were talking to someone particularly dim-witted, ¡°Threaten my allies and try and murder those under my protection,¡± she said, the mana sword pulsing. ¡°You have all crossed a line you cannot return from, dogs of the Doctrination.¡± Her face did not shift an inch as her dark dress flared with the mana radiating from her. ¡°And for that, you shall die.¡±

 Chapter 140: Two Against Five

    Toren Daen


    The surprise the mages felt at Renea¡¯s churning mana lasted for barely a second. The vicars at the edges of the courtyard leapt into action, barrelling toward the austere owner of Bloodstone Elixirs and me. I slashed Oath at one of the approaching dark-hooded vicars, a plume of fire erupting from the edge.


    One of our enemies took the lead in the charge, holding his bulky hand out. A blade of grave-black ice began to form there: a massive greatsword that seemed to coalesce from nothing and howl at the world. His every step pulsed with minute, misty particles of black cold that sapped the life from the flowers, dark frost spreading along their petals.


    The vicar batted aside my torrent of flame with a flick of that massive sword. I barely had time to bring Oath up to the side to deflect the attack. Even through my telekinetic shroud, I felt as the massive sword¨Ctaller than even I was¨Csparked off my red-patterned saber.


    I immediately shifted my stance, a coating of fire erupting over my knuckles as I twisted with the strike. I threw a punch at the vicar¡¯s exposed chest, expecting to crater it.


    Instead, that suffusing aura of grave ice sapped my fire of its strength, a deep cold spreading through my limbs that made me feel slow and weak. My fist hit the vicar¡¯s chest, knocking him back a step, but it was far weaker than it should have been.


    From underneath his hood, the vicar grinned. I inhaled, feeling as his aura coated the inside of my lungs. My entire body started to creak as dark ice spread across my limbs, hampering my speed and making my entire form feel like death.


    I snarled in anger, thrumming my heartfire and fire magic. An unfocused coating of flame spread along my body, fighting against the chill. Simultaneously, my innate aether healed over the frostbite left behind.


    Just in time for me to throw up a wall of pushing force, then duck. A stream of blue-black lightning¨Ceach tendril strangely solid and refusing to dissipate¨Cwas suddenly diverted high into the air.


    Another vicar had fired that¨Cone that was holding further back. I caught a flicker of surprise on the faces of my enemies. No doubt they expected my slowed reactions to allow a clean hit from that sneak attack.


    I chanced a look to my side. Renea was engaged in a deadly duel with a man wielding an axe of blood iron, deflecting his swipes without even shifting her feet. Her deep white mana blade seemed to guide the man in a delicate dance that only he could lose. When the other vicar, holding kukris of soulfire, tried to jump at her from behind, the dark-haired woman casually threw a backhanded punch, cracking the man¡¯s nose and slamming him into the dirt.


    Yeah, she had that covered. Feeling reassured by her strength, I bolted for the greatsword vicar. I layered a shroud of sound over the edge of Oath, then enveloped that in a burning nimbus of fire. I quickly closed the distance with the vicar, swiping deftly. The man, slowed by his massive sword, struggled to shift his weapon into the path of my attack.


    The aura of black frost around the man ate away at my own fiery barrier, but I pushed on. Every time Oath flashed, a bit more of the fire coating it was slowly snuffed out. I pressured the man, shifting around the garden, leaving footprints that burned and froze respectively. The man was sweating to keep up with my speed, and at our angle, the wall of Bloodstone Elixir¡¯s headquarters blocked me from Jorta¡¯s sight. He had no way out. Until finally, the shroud of sound beneath my weapon was revealed.


    I feinted an upward cut. Having fallen into a pattern, the vicar naturally tried to smack it to the side. Expecting this, I then shifted to a stab that maneuvered its way right past the vicar¡¯s massive sword. Only the tip pierced his shoulder, but that was all I needed.


    My sound spell went off, mana particles smashing together as my vibrating power rattled the vicar¡¯s insides. He shook, tumbling backward as his body convulsed. I turned, throwing Oath to the side like a boomerang as a torrent of decay-tinged lightning surged toward me. Using a telekinetic pull, I yanked on the greatsword vicar¡¯s body, pulling him into the path of the lightning and obstructing me from sight.


    The vicar barely managed to haul his unwieldy sword in the path of the attack. The lightning pushed him backward, knocking him over.


    But I was already moving, gunning for the vicar who had thrown that spell. His eyes widened in shock as I seemed to phase into existence nearby, his hands swinging wildly to intercept me. But that was a mistake.


    Oath spiraled in from the side, cutting deep into the vicar¡¯s skull and shearing through something hard. The vicar collapsed, screaming in agony and clutching his face. I jumped forward, grabbing my returning saber, preparing to bring it down on my foe.


    At the same time, my senses warned me as arrows formed of blood iron sought my head. I used a telekinetic pull on the ground, ducking low to keep my surface area small and throwing up a small dome of pushing force. A score of Jorta¡¯s arrows diverted around me, peppering the ground like spears and leaving me safe amidst a field of black death.


    The vicar I¡¯d been reaching for screamed, lightning erupting from him in an unfocused tempest. It arced everywhere, smashing into the walls, carving up the dirt, and launching for me. I pedaled backward, surprised by the sudden ferocity of the outburst, but not fast enough.


    A whirling current of solid plasma wrapped around my arm like a vine, constricting like a coiled serpent. The lightning flashed, half a dozen solid needle-like and jagged protrusions erupting and retreating back into the main bulk in instants.


    My arm erupted in pain as the spell punched through my telekinetic shroud like it was paper, shredding my arm a dozen times over. I growled, preparing to try and break it through sheer force of mana, before something white and buzzing flashed innumerable times in the air.


    Renea¡¯s pure white mana blade sheared through the spell wrapping my arm, the pure mana going through precise cuts faster than I could track. Capitalizing on the save, I pulsed a sound shroud around my forearm, further breaking the solid lightning into smaller bits, before a nimbus of fire destroyed the rest.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, shifting back into stance beside Lady Shorn and massaging my forearm. The vicar¡¯s last wild attack had managed to wound me rather deeply, and if I were any other mage, it would have disabled my sword arm. I surveyed the battlefield momentarily.


    The lightning vicar was panting and heaving on the ground, a pool of vomit and blood around him. When he glared at me, I saw that Oath had sheared straight through his horns. He was grasping what was left of them in his hands.


    No doubt what allowed him to create such an unusually powerful blast, I thought, my mind working analytically. The graveice swordsman was the best off as he reoriented himself, but he was still marked with a hundred small cuts where he¡¯d failed to fully block his comrade¡¯s spell.


    And I surveyed Renea¡¯s side. The axe-wielding vicar was slowly choking on a pool of his own blood, whimpering and crying as his lifeblood left his body. The soulfire mage had distanced herself from Lady Shorn, an expression of purest horror on her face.


    She is a better swordsman than I, I thought with surprise. Far better.


    It was a rare moment that I met someone more skilled in weaponry than I. More practiced, sure. More experienced? Almost always. But more skilled?


    I¡¯d taken lessons on blade work from Lady Dawn, an eminent phoenix warrior of the Asclepius Clan. With nearly every clash of blades I¡¯d experienced, I¡¯d usually found my skill to be higher than my opponent.


    But as Renea coolly watched her outmatched opponent bleed out over her precious flower garden, I felt I had to reprise that statement.


    ¡°You are reckless, Toren,¡± Renea said, not taking her eyes off her fallen opponent. She didn¡¯t seem to realize she¡¯d used my first name again. ¡°You do not care for bodily harm.¡±


    I flexed my hand, amping my heartfire higher. The orange-purple light of my soul smoothed over the gaping wounds in my forearm, the flesh regenerating at an exaggerated rate. ¡°I don¡¯t need to,¡± I growled in response. I¡¯d never been a quipper in battle. ¡°I¡¯m going to finish this.¡±


    Renea looked at me oddly, a furrow to her brows, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I drew on the deepest depths of my core, feeling the Will respond. I coaxed it to the surface, noting as my Acquire Phase set in.


    My sense for heartfire expanded a dozen times over as the world became clear. My body thrummed with warmth. Where before I had to actively coat myself in fire mana to ward off the graveice vicar¡¯s aura, I was certain my sheer presence would burn away anything he tried.


    Jorta, still perched casually on a faraway rooftop, paled as I looked straight into his heartfire. It was shriveled and broken, echoing his wounds not truly mended. I absently wondered how he was even still alive.


    He began to run, turning tail in a flutter of dark tassels. I calmly gripped the feather brooch on my chest, cocking my arm back as if it were a throwing knife.


    Follow him, please, I asked my bond. I need to ask him a few questions.


    Okay, Aurora replied solemnly. Watch yourself.


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    I hurled the bronze feather with a pulse of telekinesis, the projectile glowing a burning white as it shifted form midair to that of a songbird. Aurora¡¯s clockwork body extended its wings, screeching as it tailed the retreating Jorta.


    I looked back at the three vicars left alive. They¡¯d frozen in place, terror infusing their intent.


    ¡°Fascinating,¡± Renea breathed by my side, seeming unphased by the pressure I was giving off. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve ever witnessed something like this.¡±


    I felt more than saw her take a conservative step back, allowing her white mana blade to dissipate.


    I threw Oath to the side once again, sending it in a deadly drive straight toward the lightning vicar. He called on his power in a rush, raising interlocking walls of solid electricity that tried in vain to stop its advance. My weapon continued on unerringly, propelled by my psychokinetic hold.


    I blurred forward, twisting to throw a roundhouse kick at the grave ice vicar. The bulky man didn¡¯t even realize what hit him as my shin, coated in a shroud of sound, impacted his side. I felt as my spell traveled through his body, pulping his insides. He coughed up blood and what I suspected was part of his own stomach as he hurtled to the side, smashing into the courtyard wall and cratering the stone.


    I lazily thrust my other hand to the side, pulsing outward with a wall of shimmering sound mana. An absolute torrent of soulfire smashed into me, enveloping me in a long cone of decaying hellfire. The Vritra-aspected mana ate away at my vibrating barrier, but in the process of pushing through it had been dispersed and weakened significantly. After my sound shroud, it met a wall of fire that matched it strength-for-strength. And the barest motes that pierced my fire were swept away by a simple telekinetic wall.


    The torrent kept coming, however, unrelenting as I heard the soulfire vicar¡¯s screams of anger. He was expelling truly absurd amounts of mana in an attempt to overwhelm me, yet I remained unharmed in the center.


    But the nature of his power and overwhelming reserves of mana will wear this barrier down eventually, I thought, raising my other hand. A bead of concentrated plasma settled between my index finger and the tip of my thumb. Through the torrent of mana, I focused in on the black heartfire of my quarry.


    I flicked my bead of solid plasma, accelerating it through a wave of telekinetic force. It blurred red as it pierced straight through the soulfire vortex, then seared through the black heartfire I could see.


    The torrent of black decaying fire stopped nearly immediately, sputtering out as the vicar¡¯s heart was pierced. He stumbled backward, a smoking hole evident in his robes. He looked at me, uncomprehending, before he collapsed.


    I exhaled as I felt his heartfire extinguish, turning to look at the graveice vicar. He was struggling to move, his massive greatsword held before him. I pointed a finger at my final opponent, amping fire mana with vibrations of sound. Then I released a steady beam of plasma at the dying man.


    He actually managed to place his massive weapon in front of him like a shield. My burning-hot spell began to slowly melt through the vicar¡¯s weapon. I saw fear flash in his eyes.


    But I wasn¡¯t going to needlessly extend this farce. Oath flashed in from the side, the edge wet with the blood of the lightning vicar. It flashed, decapitating the bulky priest while he was preoccupied defending from my beam of plasma.


    I exhaled as the man¡¯s body slumped, spurting blood that seemed to freeze the moment it left his corpse. I surveyed the battlefield, noting the black arrows peppering every inch of soil. Small fires burned all around, and the courtyard wall was destroyed in several places. Patches of dark frost claimed the fountains, freezing the water into something decrepit. This small slice of heaven, which once bore the scent of a hundred different flowers, had become a graveyard.


    I turned to peer at Renea Shorn, then forced myself to look away. While in my Acquire Phase, I could feel something churning from her. I instinctively knew her cloaking artifact would unravel under my gaze.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to follow that last vicar,¡± I said. ¡°Get some answers from him. I¡¯m¡­¡± I turned to look at the decimated area in front of me. Though from my sense of heartfire I knew the employees of Bloodstone Elixirs had successfully evacuated, I knew Lady Shorn well enough to understand she would lament the loss of such a wonderful place. ¡°I¡¯m sorry this happened to your home.¡±


    Without giving her a chance to reply, I surged into the sky on a mindfire stamp, blurring toward where I sensed Aurora¡¯s puppet strings. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was barely a chase. With my telekinetic range enhanced by my Will and my reflexes heightened, I was able to blur along through the streets of Aedelgard at a speed that would have baffled any other mage. My ears heard the deep black thrum of Jorta¡¯s heartfire as I closed in, a predator following his prey.


    He pushed his way through a crowd of people, throwing them toward me and drawing his bow. He lined up a black arrow in front of a few suddenly terrified men and women.


    Aurora, I thought.


    I know, my bond replied seriously. Her songbird construction zipped down from the sky, crashing into the vicar¡¯s bow. His arrow, which was primed to shoot through the civilians in front of him to reach me, instead launched into the ground. People ran in terror, fleeing like mice as my presence approached.


    Realizing nothing else would work, Jorta fired a quick bolt at me. I caught it casually with one hand, then used Oath to deflect his succession of arrows. I tapped down on the ground, stalking forward relentlessly as he fired a neverending stream.


    I cocked my hand back, lining up my sights once more, before hurling the vicar¡¯s own arrow back at him.


    He screamed as it pierced his thigh, pinning his body to a wall he tried to use his bow again, but Aurora¡¯s construct ripped it from his hands. He snarled in anger and pain as I approached.


    ¡°You¡¯re a fool, Daen,¡± he muttered as Aurora delivered the short bow into my hands. I crushed it between my palms. ¡°You¡¯re such a fool,¡± he said, his anger shifting to something more maniacal.


    ¡°Any why is that?¡± I asked, pressing Oath¡¯s edge against his neck. ¡°You¡¯re the one about to die.¡±


    Jorta cackled, his stomach bubbling strangely. ¡°You fell for it once, following that note we sent! Leaving the people that truly need your salvation. And now you chase me, leaving her to our devices once more.¡±


    I blinked in surprise and yawning horror as Jorta¡¯s stomach began to dissolve into murky green liquid, revealing the horrid wound I¡¯d given him before. Jorta¡¯s mouth streamed with blood. ¡°They¡¯re all going to die, Daen! Starting with her! He made you a promise and it¡¯s time to pay the price!¡±


    Jorta¡¯s dying laughter crashed around in my head as his words clicked. I felt my pulse thrum as I turned around, rocketing back into the air. He lured me here, I thought with sudden panic. Lured me away from Renea¡¯s side! That was why he ran! I need to get back there!


    If it was even possible, I raced back along the edges of the streets even faster than before. Every telekinetic push and pull I used along the buildings to anchor me left dents and gashes as my force moved out of control, turning me into a bullet as I raced back to Bloodstone Elixirs.


    I arced over the courtyard wall, feeling like a yoyo that had been yanked in a dozen different directions at once. My eyes took in the aftermath of my recent battle, watching in horror as something erupted from Renea¡¯s shadow, lunging for her.


    I was about to cry out, but Renea casually summoned another pure mana sword. The dark inky mass impaled itself on the razor-sharp sword, coughing fluid up. It tried to swing an arm down, but Lady Shorn easily flourished her blade, severing the hand that tried to thrust down at her.


    I landed back in the courtyard, standing stock still. I watched the shadowy form materialize fully as it died, revealing another vicar I¡¯d missed. An assassin. And in their severed hand was a syringe swirling with green and red liquid.


    Blithe.


    I looked back up at Renea Shorn, feeling a wave of relief as we locked eyes. I thought I might have seen the same emotion flash in hers, but¡­


    I was swallowed by darkness. A blackness that encroached on my soul, compressing and barely contained. It yawned as wide as the city, swirling with carefully controlled power. It was a hurricane ready to blow, supernaturally withheld. And it all was barely leashed under Renea¡¯s cloaking artifact.


    Toren, Aurora¡¯s seething mind said directly into my own, Toren, you need to withdraw your Will! You can¡¯t let this spell overcome your mind! By nature, it decays!


    My eyes burned with pain as I slammed them shut, wincing as I broke eye contact. My forehead beaded with sweat as I pulled myself from that darkness. Renea seemed to belatedly piece together what had just happened, her eyes widening perceptibly and her lips coming to a thin line.


    I let my Acquire Phase go, allowing it to shift back into my core. Renea¡¯s phantom voice scraped against my mind as I realized what I¡¯d just done. ¡°You delve deeper and deeper, Toren Daen, ripping away my protections one by one.¡±


    And I¡¯d just torn away another layer. What lay beneath was as expansive as a sea, and I felt I¡¯d only just gotten a glimpse. Part of me, the pragmatic part, implored me to engage my Will again. Tear away the mask and identify a potential threat below. I could try and cover it up however I wanted, but Renea was dangerous.


    She is so much more than we could have imagined, Aurora thought hastily. Tell her nothing. Her Vritra blood runs strong and deep. You must extricate yourself from here as fast as you can before she can engage it.


    Renea slowly strode toward me, a deep scowl marring the lines of her face. I resisted the urge to take a step back, remembering the bottomless well of power she kept leashed underneath. ¡°What did you see, Lord Daen?¡± she demanded in a voice that was carefully cool and sharper than graveice.


    I exhaled, trying to measure Aurora¡¯s advice. I couldn¡¯t up and run. I suspected that would only start a battle I wasn¡¯t prepared for. So I needed to talk my way out of this. ¡°Nothing,¡± I lied, matching her gaze once more. Without the insight granted by my Will, I couldn¡¯t pierce through that artifact through brute force. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything,¡± I asserted again, but internally, I was trying to figure a way out of this.


    Toren, Aurora said carefully, as if she were sneaking around a sleeping bear that she didn¡¯t wish to wake, She knows you are lying.


    Renea stood across from me, her arms tense. Her eyes searched mine for something in a demanding way, imploring me to speak further. Yet I allowed my own to wander as I tried to think of a way out of this. If there was something I could say or some tactic I could use to facilitate an escape. As my adrenaline dissipated, my thoughts came more clearly. My pupils settled on the syringe of red-green blithe still clutched in the dead assassin¡¯s severed hand.


    And then Jorta¡¯s dying words replayed in my mind. ¡°He made you a promise and it¡¯s time to pay the price!¡±


    My adrenaline returned in full force as my body went rigid. Thoughts of Renea Shorn and her secrets banished themselves from my mind as I turned toward the faraway portals. Even Aurora¡¯s forcibly calm and melodic voice drifted to the background of my thoughts. If I was lured here to Bloodstone Elixirs, what was Mardeth trying to keep me away from?


    ¡°Oh, God,¡± I whispered, my body locking up as the implications reached me. I¡¯d miscalculated. I¡¯d thought I had time. Time to grow stronger. Time to protect those I cared for. Time to gather myself and my power. But I didn¡¯t.


    Mardeth wasn¡¯t waiting for Seris to leave for war.


    Fiachra was in danger.

 Chapter 141: Under Siege

    Naereni


    I darted down one of the empty streets, my breath coming in spurts as I tried to ignore the smell of smoke in my nostrils. The sky was alight with an angry orange glow as fires burned in the long distance, the tinge silhouetted against the night. I skated on boots of ice, nearing the end of my alleyway. I engaged my recently upgraded crest, brushing my hand against the edge of the building as I whipped to the side.


    A frosty glyph shone where my palm had touched. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be noticed.


    Come on, I thought with an undercurrent of terror. You want to chase me, don¡¯t you?


    In truth, I didn¡¯t know if my spell would do anything worthwhile. But I had to try.


    I spun on my feet, a dagger of ice coalescing on my palms as I felt that horrible mana presence barrel through the alleyway. My arms shook as I prepared to spring my trap.


    A vicar burst from the alleyway, his black and red robes fluttering. Lines of red and green traced his skin, disturbingly familiar patches of malformed blithestain spreading along his skin. He grinned, a horrid mist seeping from between his teeth. The sickly emerald vapor churned as red veins pushed it on, the swirling substance drawing memories to the surface.


    I saw my dad, years gone now, slowly collapsing on the floor of our meager apartment. A needle in his arm, the green contents drained entirely. I¡¯d shaken him, asking him to wake up. To stop sleeping. I was hungry, after all.


    I hadn¡¯t known. Not until the next day when my dad still hadn¡¯t woken up. And then he¡¯d grown cold. Colder than any spell I could make.


    ¡°You should stop running, Rat!¡± the vicar mocked. ¡°Drink of our elixir! Stop fearing your final peace!¡±


    He¡¯d been chasing me for the last few minutes after what he¡¯d done to poor John, one of Bloodstone Elixirs¡¯ guards. I¡¯d watched as the mist seeping from the vicar¡¯s mouth had enveloped the man I¡¯d known, leaving behind a blithe-broken body that spewed more of that same horrid toxin. So that it would continue the cycle. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    John was one of the better ones. He knew what it was like to grow up on the streets, to fight for every drop of food. I¡¯d stolen a few of his silver buttons, but he hadn¡¯t minded. In turn, he¡¯d helped mediate disputes between the people of East Fiachra fairly. He hadn¡¯t deserved to become what this vicar made him.


    ¡°I¡¯d say the same for you!¡± I said, my voice strained. I threw the dagger I was holding at the vicar. He smacked it out of the way, but it left a shallow cut. The dagger embedded itself into the stones nearby. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten slower since you murdered John! Why don¡¯t you lay down and rest?¡± I said in turn.


    The vicar took a step forward. I threw another dagger, putting on a mask of fear as I backed up. It wasn¡¯t entirely feigned. Once again, the vicar smacked it to the side. That horrible gas moved independently of the man, trying to reach my lungs and change me, too. I was far faster than it, but I needed to end this before the gas spread further.


    Good, I thought, my eyes darting to the side. My frosted mark glowed behind the vicar.


    ¡°I give my body to glorious purpose,¡± the vicar snarled, flexing his fingers. ¡°Mardeth is going to make us all ascend into something better! And soon, you shall join us, too,¡± he said, taking a step forward.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m going to decline,¡± I said. Then I clapped my hands together.


    The rune I¡¯d left marked on the wall erupted with thick chains of ice, the whiplike cords streaming with high notes as they clinked together. They shot forward with purpose, beelining for the vicar.


    The man turned slowly, trying to batter away the icy chains. Yet they dipped under his arms, wrapping his body and anchoring themselves to the daggers left embedded in the stones. The vicar struggled, straining against my spell. I grit my teeth, holding my palms together in concentration. My chains cracked.


    ¡°Any time now, Wade!¡± I called out, feeling my arms strain.


    As if on cue, a dozen rats scurried in from the surrounding alleyways. They squeaked with rage, running toward the vicar. He thrashed, kicking a few away. Yet a few managed to sink their teeth into his skin, drawing little bits of blood. But it wasn¡¯t enough: this was a mage, and his body appeared tougher than expected.


    I was about to open my mouth, asking if he could do anything more with his control of rodents, when a veritable swarm of rats churned from the darkness. From drain pipes, the empty canal, hell, even from the rooftops. The chittering mass surrounded the vicar on all sides, but they didn¡¯t yet dogpile him. The vicar, apparently, still felt fear. He paused, his breath steaming red and green.


    I was able to hold my ice chains as he stopped thrashing. I heard footsteps tapping beside me as Wade slowly walked up. His brown locks were in a messy disarray, something I¡¯d learned to love about him. His eyes were shadowed by both his glasses and his bangs, but I blinked at the utter fury I felt radiating from him. Apple the skaunter was perched lazily on his shoulder, the large, scaled rodent watching the swarm imperiously.


    ¡°I¡¯ve waited too long for this,¡± Wade said angrily. ¡°I¡¯m going to rip you to shreds, vicar. For what you did.¡±


    My eyes darted to the vicar, whose grin had replastered itself back in place. ¡°You¡¯ll never get the chance, fool!¡± he snarled, opening his mouth wide. His jaw seemed to unhinge supernaturally as blithe gas coalesced along the rims of his rotten teeth.


    ¡°Wade!¡± I yelled in fear. He didn¡¯t have body-strengthening magic! I would need to¨C


    The rats surrounding the vicar piled upon themselves, scrabbling in a mishmash of limbs, teeth, and fur as they created a living barricade against the outpour of blithe gas. The rodents gnashed angrily as their bodies soaked up the spray.


    ¡°My rats watched how this stuff spread,¡± Wade said, fury lacing his tone as he stalked further. ¡°Your gas only tracks and affects mages. But when it enters a nonmage, or in this case, an animal without mana,¡± he said, trailing off as he looked at the rats who had tanked the attack. They looked sickly, but the effect clearly wasn¡¯t as bad as it had been for John. ¡°It spreads about as slowly as it did when your Doctrination tortured those I loved.¡±


    The vicar had the audacity to grin. ¡°Did we take someone from you, boy?¡± he mocked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be¨C¡±


    The vicar suddenly screamed as something ripped at his leg. A particularly large rat, one that must have weighed a few pounds, tore gratuitously at the priest¡¯s heels. He buckled, flattening against the ground so his chin was pressed into the uneven cobblestones. My chains tightened automatically as he splayed out.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Achilles tendon that my familiar just ate through,¡± Wade said, loping forward like an uncaged wolf. I felt my breath pick up and my blood began to surge as darkness overtook my lover¡¯s face. ¡°I read about it in a book a while back. That¡¯s what allows your heel to flex. Without it, you can¡¯t run. Can¡¯t escape.¡±


    Wade knelt down to look at the prone vicar, who was getting an up-and-personal perspective of the swarm of rodents around him. The vicar¡¯s fear returned full force as his eyes darted around, only being greeted by beady black dots from every angle. ¡°You think I¡¯m afraid of a bunch of rats?!¡± he called, sounding frantic as he began to thrash at his bonds again.


    Wade shifted his spectacles further up his nose, the fires burning all throughout the city reflected in the glass. He rested a palm against Apple on his side, the mana beast purring slightly, and something in his face changed. I could swear the color in his pupils bled away to a beady black, patches of fur growing along his chin in something that looked like sideburns. His face narrowed out slightly, his nose becoming a bit more prominent. ¡°Rats aren¡¯t what you need to worry about,¡± he said, his voice a bit higher pitched. Somehow, it felt even more ominous. ¡°It¡¯s what I can make them do.¡±


    I watched in mute fascination and mild horror as all the rats around us mutated, growing greenish scales that matched those of Apple. The rodents bulked, growing to twice their size as their claws elongated and their jaws became razor sharp. The aforementioned skaunter chittered loudly, a cry that was slowly taken up by a chorus one hundred strong.


    The vicar thrashed in horror, screaming obscenities and damning us to the Vritra. The chittering of a hundred mini-skaunters drowned out his cries.


    ¡°This is for Kori,¡± Wade said coldly.


    The swarm pounced almost as one, sinking their teeth and claws into the pinned vicar. He yelled for a time, but eventually, that dropped off as his blood sprayed high into the air. The amped rats chittered with glee as they ripped into their prey. I watched, my eyes wide at the carnage.


    The vicar was devoured alive by an army of fur. I traced the path of a rivulet of blood as it streamed to the side, dripping into an empty canal nearby.


    When they were done, there wasn¡¯t even a corpse left. Only bare tatters of blood and cloth and few chips of bone. Blood smattered the mouths and claws of every pseudo-skaunter, their beady eyes surging with bloodlust.


    I turned mechanically back to Wade. Those strange changes to his face melted away, the rats around him slimming down in size and shedding their green scales. He exhaled weakly, bending over as the strain of what he¡¯d just done threatened to overwhelm him. Apple teetered woozily on his shoulder.


    I took a few steps forward, the rats parting around me. Wade looked up at me, his glasses slightly askew. His eyes were blown wide beneath them as he watched me approach. ¡°Oh, Naereni,¡± he said as if it were a curse. ¡°By the Vritra, I didn¡¯t want you to¨C¡±


    I gripped both of his shoulders firmly, pulling him into a deep kiss. He hesitated for a moment before returning it, his body slackening even as the world burned around us. I separated a moment later, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He flushed as he always did when I did that.


    ¡°That was the hottest thing I have ever seen,¡± I breathed huskily. ¡°Just don¡¯t do it again without telling me. Or to someone who isn¡¯t a vicar.¡±


    Wade glanced back at the remains of what used to be a human. Scratch that, I thought angrily. That thing could never have been human.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been planning to do that for too long,¡± he said tiredly. ¡°Ever since they broke my mother and sister. It¡¯s all been boiling up. Waiting to explode.¡±


    I raised a brow, squeezing my Wade tighter. ¡°Is that what happens when you get angry?¡± I teased. ¡°You grow sideburns and a longer nose?¡± I paused, thinking a bit. ¡°Hey, if your nose gets longer, does that mean that your¨C¡±


    Wade flushed, cutting me off hastily. ¡°It¡¯s just something I figured out recently. I told you how my magic was acting weirdly with Apple, right? Well, when I tried to hone in on that feeling, I was able to do that,¡± he said a bit quickly. ¡°Though it tires me really fast.¡±


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    I gave Wade¡¯s shoulder one more squeeze, then separated from him. I opened my mouth to say something, then my head snapped to the side in surprise. A tide of mana was rolling toward us, seeping through the stones. A wave of green gas, interlaced with red lines, seemed to hone in on our location.


    ¡±Wade, how fast can you run?!¡± I said, grabbing his arm and preparing to try and carry him. That gas tracked mages somehow. I was under no illusions that it wouldn¡¯t try and change us like it did to John.


    He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a strange mist seeped up from the cobblestones. It swirled unnaturally, enveloping the two of us in a cocoon of woven water. I could somehow see and sense my surroundings just fine.


    The massive cloud of gas churning toward us immediately halted in its path, seeming to be confused by something. Then it arced upward, surging toward the northwest with a mind of its own.


    I breathed in Karsien¡¯s mist, feeling in awe of this strange new power of his. He¡¯d pushed one of his spellforms even higher recently, allowing the mist he created to become even more powerful. There was something deeper to this spell of his that I couldn¡¯t put my finger on, however.


    It seemed that my master¡¯s spell was able to hide us from the probing effects of the blithe gas.


    Speaking of my master¡­


    I turned on my heel, looking at where he stood. Wade did the same a moment later. ¡°Hello, Kar,¡± I said jovially. ¡°You missed out on all the fun!¡±


    Karsien¡¯s eyes¨Chidden behind his mask¨Cflitted to the remains of the vicar. ¡°We need to move to the center plaza,¡± he said, his voice short and curt. ¡°Plan some sort of response to this. I¡¯ll need you both.¡±


    I swallowed, looking past the mist to the burning outline of the city. I could smell the smoke in my nose. Every now and then, a blot of blithe gas would rise into the air from somewhere and dart in that same northern direction. I felt my hands clench.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said angrily, remembering how hard I¡¯d worked to erase this death drug from the world. ¡°We need to plan.¡±


    ¡ª


    The central plaza oozed with chaos. Men rushed about uncertainly, looking for their wives. I heard a child crying somewhere as a mother tried in vain to shush him, a haunted cast to her eyes. I barely caught a man as he tripped on a protruding stone. He didn¡¯t seem to recognize me, his eyes bearing a shell-shocked cast.


    A hundred and one conversations fought to be heard over the din. Beyond East Fiachra¡¯s borders, the city rumbled as mana fluctuated wildly. Whatever was happening, it was worse in the other districts.


    I turned around in concern, Wade, Karsien, and Hofal by my side. The normally stoic shield¡¯s face was even more haunted than that of a corpse. He¡¯d joined us on the way to the central plaza, barely responsive to words.


    He was part of the Doctrination way back in the day, I thought, But he left because of the horrible things they did. Is this¡­ is this like that? I wondered.


    The people of East Fiachra thrummed with fear and uncertainty. They could see and feel the city breaking down everywhere but here, and the only incursion of the disaster happening afar were the vicars bearing down on the mages of Bloodstone Elixirs.


    I heard a raucous clanging that echoed over the panicked voices of the crowd. Instinctually, everyone quieted down, turning their heads uncertainly toward the loud noise. After all the action had been ingrained in their bodies for months every time the stew was finally ready.


    Auntie Greahd moved her aging body, standing precariously atop a pile of rubble that overburdened an empty canal. ¡°Everyone!¡± she called out hoarsely. ¡°Everyone, stop!¡±


    I blinked in surprise as Greahd commanded the crowd. ¡°We need order! Order like at our cookfires and gatherings! Not pushing, shoving, and trampling!¡±


    I was shocked by how quickly the East Fiachrans settled down, looking hopefully up at the old stewmaker. Gradually, the crowd¨Cseveral hundred strong at least¨Cbecame less an unruly mob and more an unordered troop.


    Greahd looked over us all as a resounding explosion sounded somewhere far to the north. She shuddered from the vibrations but didn¡¯t flinch. Her graying hair was pulled into a haphazard bun as she looked over the desperate crowd.


    ¡°Fiachra is burning,¡± she said. ¡°Most districts are under attack from vicars spewing a blithelike substance, infecting them and continuing the destruction,¡± she said slowly.


    The crowd almost exploded again.


    ¡°Where is my daughter¨C¡±


    ¡°Almost lost my life to¨C¡±


    ¡°Buried in the rubble¨C-¡±


    But one question rose above them all. ¡°What are we going to do?¡± someone finally voiced over the growing chaos.


    Greahd clenched a hand. The crowd¡¯s eyes settled on her, looking desperately for guidance. For some sort of assurance that things would be alright. ¡°I¡¯ve lived in this district for over twenty years,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve grown with you all. Learned with you all. Cooked for you all. And fed you all from my own stock. And never have I asked for anything in return.¡±


    The crowd held its breath, and to my surprise, I felt my own breath refuse to leave my lungs as well. I leaned forward, my eyes intent on the woman who had raised me. What was she aiming for?


    ¡°The infection that is attacking this city is only striking at mages,¡± she said. Then the woman who was all but my mother braced herself atop that rubble as if about to face the gales of a hurricane. ¡°But it leaves nonmages alone. Right now, only you all have the power. The power to make a difference.¡±


    There was a beat of silence. Two. Then an eruption of pent-up fury.


    These people, who had been beaten and trodden over all their lives by the well-to-do mages of this city, surged in fury at Greahd¡¯s suggestion.


    A chorus of shouts rose up. What had any mage done for East Fiachra? Were they supposed to just forget their oppression? Why should anyone put themselves in danger?


    A few moved forward as if to tear Greahd from her perch, and I felt my mana churning as I prepared to intervene. One of them grabbed at Greahd¡¯s leg, but she stepped around it.


    ¡°Look at you all!¡± Greahd yelled hoarsely. ¡°Listen to what you¡¯re saying! At how you¡¯re acting!¡± She slammed a closed fist against her breast. ¡°I am a mage! I always have been! And yet I have always been here, toiling in the mud alongside you all!¡±


    ¡°Then maybe you just want to get your greedy friends out of trouble!¡± a voice said further up. ¡°Just like a mage to save their own skins!¡±


    From my faraway vantage point, I couldn¡¯t make out his exact features. But Greahd obviously could. ¡°Chaerlo,¡± she said pointedly, her eyes piercing the exact spot the man stood. ¡°I remember you. I helped your wife deliver her child when the clinic was full.¡± The man recoiled as if he¡¯d been struck.


    ¡°And Warren,¡± she said, pointing out another man. The one who had tried to grab at her leg. ¡°When your children nearly starved, it was me who you came to for food.¡± She turned on her perch, seeming to grow bigger with every word spoken. ¡°Baela, you couldn¡¯t afford medicine for Benny¡¯s frostbite. I helped soothe the wounds of his lost fingers. Do you all remember?¡±


    The crowd had gone silent, each person remembering their small moments of kindness from the woman. Images of her smiling face as I darted around her small apartment playing at being a mage surfaced. The first time I¡¯d awoken a rune. The utter joy on her features, but also the sadness that I would be leaving. Yet I didn¡¯t leave.


    ¡°You think it¡¯s the mages who oppress you all?¡± Greahd said, lowering her hand and clenching her fists. ¡°Maybe some do. But do you know who pushes for it? Revels in it?¡± she demanded, drawing the crowd¡¯s emotions further. ¡°The ones who truly make this happen?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen it all your lives, but never been allowed to think! Constantly, we¡¯ve all fought against the epidemic of blithe. How many nights have we spent weeping in prayer, hoping our children would awaken? And when they do awaken, knowing that they¡¯ll be sent off to war to die in the first wave or be swallowed by an unnamed zone in the Relictombs? And how many times have you been told the only one to blame for your suffering is your lack of faith?!¡±


    ¡°The fault is with our Sovereign gods!¡± Greahd cried, her body trembling. ¡°It¡¯s our horrid, despicable gods that let this happen to us! It is their Doctrines that grind us into the dirt. That demand we pay in flesh and blood simply for a right to live. It was the Doctrination who made blithe, and the vicars who distributed it! It is the vicars who deny you magic! It is the vicars who burn this city! They burn our city!¡± she yelled, her voice becoming more manic and hoarse as she went on. ¡°If you want someone to hate, hate Agrona Vritra!¡±


    The entire plaza had gone deathly silent. An aura of shock suffused every man and woman. I felt as my eyes went wide at Greahd¡¯s declaration. He statement of disloyalty to our Sovereigns. To the ones who had given us everything! How could she¨C


    I caught those thoughts as they came, for some reason only now recognizing how twisted they were. The broken logic of it all pressed against the insides of my skull. And from the shuffling of the crowd, I knew they were realizing it, too.


    And it terrified them. It terrified them because it made sense. The horror-induced understanding that¡­ that our very gods cared not for our struggles.


    The Doctrination preached that all who struggled and gained power would be rewarded by the Sovereigns. But where was Sovereign Orlaeth when men starved and froze during the winter? Where was the Doctrination when petty gang fights ripped East Fiachra apart?


    Where was Agrona Vritra when those we loved died in a pointless cycle of poverty and despair?


    I took a step forward mutely, pushing aside bodies as I wove my way to the front of the crowd. The silent, terrified lull continued, but I didn''t care.


    I made it to the front of the crowd, then slowly climbed the same rubble that my mother in all but name stayed perched on, her eyes wildly tracing the shocked¨Chorrified¨Cmasses.


    I stood up, feeling the wind on my cheek. The attention of all present had shifted to me as I stood beside Auntie Greahd. I raised a hand to my face, feeling the rodent-like masquerade mask resting there.


    I took it off slowly, allowing the breeze¨Ctainted with the smell of blood and smoke¨Cto caress my face. ¡°Many of you know me,¡± I called out. ¡°And many of you don¡¯t. But know for certain that I know all of you. I am the Young Rat!¡± I called, hefting my mask into the air. I heard murmurs of recognition spread through the crowd. ¡±All my life, I¡¯ve lived in East Fiachra. Just like Greahd, I¡¯ve bled with you all. Sweat with you all. And when push came to shove, I decided to make a change!¡± I balled my fists. ¡°I¡¯ve stolen from half a dozen highbloods! Scammed more nobles than you can name! And every single one of those was deserved!¡± I cried.


    ¡°But there is good among the Bloods of Fiachra,¡± I said, my voice going quieter as I thought of a friend. ¡°Toren Daen fought for you! Bled for you, too! And he never gave up on you! He showed you at his concert, didn¡¯t he? That you and the mages that are dying right now are not so different? And he joined us at every cookfire. At every sharing of warmth and community!¡±


    The crowd began to shuffle in anticipation. I felt heady, adrenaline coursing through my body as I raised an icy dagger into the air. A crash of power and rumble from far in the north threatened to upset my balance, but I stayed strong. ¡°We need a plan to save our city!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll take the purse of any highblood who dares flaunt his wealth in front of my eyes, but I¡¯ll be damned to hell if I let the Doctrination take my home! They¡¯ve taken our families! Our hopes! Our dreams! Our futures! They won¡¯t take our home from us, too! Who is with me?!¡±


    I stared out at the crowd. After a beat of silence, a cry of support rose from the center. Then another. And another. The cheers of resolve grew in volume as the infectious anger of a people long oppressed finally found an outlet. A place to pour their buried energy that could make a difference.


    I thought about Toren, in that instant. I thought I understood what he¡¯d been trying to do with his music, creating a bridge between two worlds. I didn¡¯t think my speech would have been nearly as successful without solid proof that there were good mages from the outside.


    Toren thinks he understands us, I thought quietly. And maybe part of him does. But he still hasn¡¯t fully experienced our world. Our pains. Our struggles.


    I exchanged a solemn smile with Greahd, giving her a hug before I dropped back into the crowd, the stream parting around me as they shouted for what must have felt like the first time in their lives.


    Maybe Toren can be a bridge, my thoughts continued. But he wouldn¡¯t know how to direct these people. That¡¯s my job. The Rats¡¯ job. We¡¯re the voice for the voiceless.


    My eyes settled on where I¡¯d left Wade, Hofal, and Karsien. Then they narrowed as I spotted two unfamiliar figures. One was talking with Karsien in a clipped tone, but they turned as I approached.


    I blinked as I recognized the cloaked face. ¡°Sevren Doubouir?¡± I asked, my eyes flicking to his empty sleeve.


    The other guest chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s Denoir,¡± she said, lowering her hood to reveal long, navy hair. Her scarlet eyes sparkled as they met mine. ¡°My name is Caera of the same Blood. That was a fantastic speech you gave.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Boulders,¡± I said to the well-endowed woman, turning back to Doubouir. I caught the lady flushing in either embarrassment or anger in the periphery of my vision, an affronted cast to her face. Oh, it was so fun when they got pissed off quickly. I could sense her strength from her mana signature, the glimpse I caught leaving me impressed. ¡°A friend of Toren is a friend of mine, Doubouir,¡± I said, offering the man a hand to shake.


    He looked at it critically. Oh, I thought, feeling stupid. I switched to offer my left hand. He shook it reluctantly, and his eyes narrowed as they caught my fingers snaking toward his cuff links.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about you from him, too,¡± he said, making sure to keep his golden links safe from my fingers. Clearly, Toren had told him about my best qualities. ¡°And I think I have a way to stop what¡¯s happening here for good.¡±

 Chapter 142: To Stop a Plague

    Naereni


    Doubouir¡¯s words made everyone focus on him further. ¡°Toren¡¯s been following Mardeth¡¯s actions for the past few months, tracking down his operations through Alacrya. And most recently, we managed to infiltrate a base of his along the Redwater.¡± I picked up how Sevren¡¯s stump of a shoulder twitched uncomfortably at that mention. ¡°But I managed to get a look at the machine the Vicar of Plague used to create this altered blithe concoction, and I studied a sample of the drug myself.¡± He winced as another explosion went off somewhere in the distance. ¡°Mardeth seemed to have incorporated some bits of an acidbeam hivemother¡¯s mana pattern into his concoction. Whenever that awful mist touches a mage, it perpetuates the cycle, infecting their mana core and spreading to others. Once the blithe mist is unable to detect mana any longer, it will seek the closest crystal of basilisk blood.¡±


    Hofal drew his pipe from his trench coat, looking at it. His fingers trembled as he tried to light a smoke, his eyes more than haunted. ¡°What¡¯s the point of all this?¡± he asked, dropping his pipe. He didn¡¯t try and pick it up again, instead looking emptily at the fires blooming in the distance. ¡°Just to cause pain? To cause suffering for suffering¡¯s sake?¡±


    Doubouir shook his head. ¡°The basilisk blood contains the resulting mana. It maintains its charge. Charged for... Something. I never got that far. Once I realized it was a mana plague, I left my base immediately.¡± His eyes flicked to Boulders. ¡°My sister opted to join.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a powerful striker,¡± the navy-haired noble said, stepping forward. ¡°I can more than carry my weight in helping you,¡± she said seriously.


    Ahh, this one needs to prove something, I thought, scrutinizing Caera Denoir with narrowed eyes.


    ¡°Is there a way to stop it?¡± I asked aloud, forcing a cheery tone, ¡°To stop both the spread and the concentration? You¡¯re the smart one here. We¡¯re all different flavors of idiot, so you¡¯ll need to tell us in simple words.¡±


    Sevren hesitated, his pure white bangs shadowing his face. He suddenly looked half-starved. ¡°I¡¯ve got an item here,¡± he said, withdrawing something from a dimension ring, ¡°That might be able to break the connection to the basilisk blood.¡±


    My eyes widened in surprise as they drank in what was nestled in his palm. A dark crystal seemed to absorb the light. Absently, I tried to calculate how much it was worth. I knew what it was, after all. They¡¯d been used in the Joans¡¯ failed Clarwood Forest expedition.


    ¡°A beastward,¡± Wade breathed, his hand instinctively brushing against Apple¡¯s flank. The adorable skaunter hissed in disgust. My lover caught onto Sevren¡¯s plan quickly. ¡°When these are broken, they¡¯re able to scramble an acidbeam hivemother¡¯s connection to the rest of her hive, at least on contact! That¡¯s what you¡¯re planning to do!¡±


    Sevren sighed, withdrawing the item back into his dimension ring. ¡°That only solves one part. I can¡¯t stop the spread of infection from person to person. The best way¡­¡± he visibly hesitated. ¡°The best way would be to kill the infected. Put them out of their misery,¡± he said with steel. ¡°Death makes the mana inside their body go inert. Once the mana is inactive, the mist won¡¯t spread any longer.¡±


    Greahd pushed herself forward, looking up at Sevren Denoir. Even while missing an arm, the man held himself with a sort of dignity as he matched Greahd¡¯s stare. ¡°That isn¡¯t the best way,¡± she said sternly. ¡°That is the easiest. Those two are not the same. There are no doubt hundreds of mages who¡¯ve been infected. Maybe thousands. To kill them all would be a massacre on the greatest scale seen since the war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar!¡±


    ¡°So what do you think we should do instead?¡± Sevren asked bitterly. ¡°I didn¡¯t get time to try and make an antidote. And considering there isn¡¯t even an antidote for normal blithe¡¯s effects, I¡¯d like to hear what solution you¡¯ve got in mind!¡±


    Greahd¡¯s mouth worked as she faced off with the highblood, but it was Karsien who spoke up next. ¡°My mist can mask those within from the searching intelligence of the blithe waves,¡± he said, his mask of joviality long gone. ¡°I can help us move a small team to wherever the basilisk blood crystal is located. And in regards to helping those at risk of being infected, we do have options.¡±


    My mentor withdrew an item from his dimension ring, holding it out. A bluish beast core swirled with light striations in his hand, the object glowing with a faint pulse of mana. He looked at Greahd. ¡°I know you said that you would never again help the Rats with your spellform,¡± he said solemnly, dipping his masked head. ¡°But I would ask that you do it again. For one last heist.¡±


    Greahd stared at the beast core. Her sole rune was a spellform that allowed her to work in tandem with other mages to store their spells in a beast core. And if Karsien could store his mist in a core¡­


    I breathed out, my cheeks flushing as I recognized what that meant. My mentor could create half a dozen spells that wouldn¡¯t need to be activated by him alone. Only the person who smashed the core.


    Greahd¡¯s palms settled along the unnaturally smooth blue surface. ¡°One last heist,¡± she whispered, as their mana began to flow and twist together.


    ¡ª


    Over the next several minutes, a plan slowly formed from the pieces scattered about. Sevren had suggested small squads of unadorned should carry a beast core to places in the city he¡¯d pointed out as high-risk areas, then smash the core and blanket them in protective mist. East Fiachrans could then spread out, spreading the word to all the mages who were still uninfected to gather inside the mists for protection.


    Adding onto this, Wade had offered the guidance of his rats to each of the unadorned who volunteered for the dangerous missions. He would stay behind to help coordinate the rescue efforts. Men and women surged forward in droves to help this suffering city against their long-time oppressors.


    Karsien had withdrawn a surprisingly vast amount of water-attribute beast cores. He worked tirelessly with Greahd as he infused one after the other with mist, seeming to tire only in mana. His spirit remained strong as ever.


    He sighed as he finally altered a beast core, both his and Greahd¡¯s faces matted with sweat. He flexed his arms as one of the volunteers¨CBenny¡¯s mother, Baela¨Cresolutely accepted the core into her hands, seeming almost reverent. The young Benny clung to his mother¡¯s dress with hands that missed a few fingers, sniffling lightly. Yet even his eyes shone with something beyond resolve.


    Baela gave me a steady salute as she clutched the beast core closer to her chest. ¡°I¡¯ll make a difference, Miss Rat,¡± she said solemnly. ¡°I promise you that. I¡¯ll save lives, like Lord Daen did my boy,¡± she said, her hand clutching Benny¡¯s shoulder.


    I nodded. ¡°Just make sure to ask for compensation afterward,¡± I said jokingly, acknowledging her resolve, ¡°Else we¡¯ll have to steal some for you.¡±


    Baela smiled hesitantly, then turned around. A stream of unadorned citizens trailed after her, all wielding various household implements and scrap items in a roughshod attempt at weapons. There was a fire in their steps that belied their strength. I offhandedly wondered how they couldn¡¯t be mages as I saw the burning in their eyes. One of Wade¡¯s rats hopped up onto Baela¡¯s shoulder as agreed, its beady little head looking for any sort of danger.


    ¡°Why did you have so many beast cores?¡± I asked Karsien quietly as he settled in beside me. ¡°We both know how expensive those are, my dear mentor,¡± I continued, voicing the question that had been bothering me for the past few minutes.


    ¡°He planned to try and attack the Doctrination himself,¡± Hofal said, plodding up beside his longtime friend. ¡°He figured he could manage a way to get Greahd¡¯s assistance regardless.¡± He looked at me, clasping the head of the axe on his waist. ¡°I was going to join him. But they got to us again, first.¡±


    I worked my jaw, watching as the good people of East Fiachra streamed from the central plaza, each soul searing with a purpose that hadn¡¯t been there before. ¡°And why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I asked, looking at the man who had trained me.


    Karsien adjusted the bandana around his mouth, refusing to answer as Mr. Doubouir stepped up, his sister gracefully sliding into step beside him.


    ¡°Are you all ready to go?¡± he asked, adjusting the teal cloak on his shoulders. ¡°We¡¯ll need to keep an eye on the sky for where the blithe vapor travels as it returns to the source, and avoid any vicars that might try and vomit that horrible gas onto us.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Hofal said, standing up from where he¡¯d been sitting nearby. He flexed his muscled arms. ¡°You were right, Naereni. Too long have we allowed the Doctrination to take from us all. To bury their dirty fingers into everything we try, tainting our dreams and ruining our peace. I¡¯ve run from my past for too long. He clenched his axe tightly. ¡°It¡¯s time we took the fight to them.¡±


    ¡ª


    I jumped over a protruding slat of rotted wood, mana thrumming through my veins as our group darted through the streets. Everywhere I looked, the air was tinged with a light layer of green. Within the confines of Karsien¡¯s mist spell, we were thankfully unaffected.


    Karsien, Hofal, Sevren, and Caera kept pace with me as we ran northward, following the blots of blithe mist that streaked into the sky and concentrated somewhere in North Fiachra.


    All around the city, a picture of destruction burned in my eyes. Remnant traces of battle tinged the mana in the air, and smashed rubble around decimated houses belied the conflict. I spotted the bodies of several vicars as we ran, but there were far more mages who had been subsumed like poor John. Their eyes seemed to plead as their cores were turned into no more than a battery. When they exhaled their sorrows, only blithe gas seeped from their mouths, streaming up into the night. These were the ones who had last tried to fight.


    Here and there, I spotted familiar East Fiachrans darting through the rubble, checking on bodies, barging into homes to check for survivors, and putting out fires with buckets of water pulled from the nearby canals. Whenever they found mages still alive¨Cwhich was more often than I¡¯d suspected¨Cthey pointed them toward a predesignated spot of misty protection.


    Mister Doubouir¡¯s face had a deep cast to it as he ran, glancing at his sister every now and then. Miss Boulders, on the other hand, seemed to have molded her face of iron. Even as signs of destruction, fighting, and death flashed around us, she had the lithe grace of a trained soldier. Of a woman who knew what needed to be done.


    Maybe I shouldn¡¯t call her Boulders, I thought absently as we snapped down an alleyway, tendrils of water vapor following in our wake. She¡¯s the real deal. Not a puffed-up pansy like all those noble girls I stole from.


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    Hofal¡¯s bearlike form was as sturdy as the greatest temple as he ran. He was once an initiate in the Doctrination, I knew. He¡¯d only said a little about his time there, but he¡¯d left, hoping to never see the temples again. And now they¡¯d chased him, even here.


    Yet the man who had treated me like an uncle, who had given me a listening ear and an insightful view into the world, and who had shown me why I needed to be patient, looked ready to bring his wrath to those who had chased his nightmares for so long.


    I couldn¡¯t see what was beneath Karsien¡¯s mask as he took the lead, but a sort of grim determination seeped from my mentor. He was the one who taught me the joy of quipping in battle. Of always bearing a smile on your face, even in the darkest of circumstances. But since he¡¯d accomplished his revenge against Flint¨CDornar Joan¨Cthat side of him had bled away. He¡¯d let go of another mask. Afterward, he¡¯d always seemed focused on something farther away. Something none of the rest of us could see. But now, his eyes were focused on the path directly ahead.


    The wall separating North Fiachra from the other subdistricts was utterly destroyed. It had once nearly bisected the entire city, a towering black earthen structure that kept the poor penned in and the rich in their cozy warmth. Yet something had happened to destroy it, revealing the land beyond.


    I gulped. I¡¯d thought South and West Fiachra had been hit hard by the blithe plague, but North Fiachra looked like it had been run over by one of the Vritra themselves. From that barest glimpse I caught, it was hard to see a building that wasn¡¯t a smoking ruin or wasn¡¯t in the process of becoming one. Patches of conjured metal, seeping earth, and dying frost littered the northern district, signs of pitched battle throughout.


    Karsien¡¯s spell shifted as something hurtled toward us. I caught a flash of roaring fire as a mist clone ejected from our protection, intercepting the fireball as it tried to blow away our protection. A vicar was perched on a nearby rooftop, glaring down at our protective bubble.


    ¡°Run!¡± Sevren shouted. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to waste time here!¡±


    Another fireball hurtled toward us, but we were already moving. We crossed the border to North Fiachra, vicars hot on our heels as they trailed us. Some tried to get close, but crescents of wind from Caera and warding ice knives from me kept them at bay for now.


    I grit my teeth as we crossed the border into North Fiachra, running for all I was worth. My legs pumped as I spun on my feet, throwing out a flurry of conjured daggers. Simultaneously, I thrummed mana through my foot, leaving behind a frosty white glyph on the stones. As my knives dug into an approaching vicar¡¯s arms, chains erupted from the rune, lashing him to the floor as the links sought the handles of my thrown knives. He grunted in pain as he faceplanted into the cobbles.


    ¡°How¡¯d the ground taste?!¡± I mocked behind me as we continued to run. ¡°Certainly better than your sister¡¯s¨C¡±


    Something erupted from the cobbles beneath our group, spraying chips of stone as the earth seemed to birth vicars in real-time. I reacted on instinct, driving a dagger of ice through the eye of one as he tried to pull his torso free, blithe vapor sifting through his teeth. Hofal reaped bloody vengeance as a swing of his axe decapitated two, preventing them from exhaling their fumes.


    Sevren Denoir tried to avoid the swipe of a vicar¡¯s outstretched hand as they clawed up from the stone, which seemed to be malleable under their touch. He moved as if to throw a punch with his right arm, but it wasn¡¯t there. That cost him dearly.


    The vicar latched onto his leg, then threw him bodily toward the border of the mists.


    Toward me.


    His body hit me in the chest, knocking us both out of the protective cover in a tangle of limbs. Internally, I panicked, feeling a flash of fear as I realized we were now exposed to the open air.


    I got a glimpse of the assault on Karsien¡¯s mist. Vicars clung to the far edges, warily watching the area-of-effect spell. It wasn¡¯t clear where exactly we had been within, and that uncertainty was all that spared Sevren and me from a bombardment of spells as the mist left us behind.


    Sevren scrambled to his feet, about to try and rush back toward the mist cover. I yanked on his ankle, pulling him back down to the ground. He whirled on me angrily. ¡°I need to get back to my sister!¡± he snapped. ¡°And that cover is all that¡¯s¨C¡±


    I jumped up, snapping a hand over his mouth and cutting off his sound. His eyes glared at me, but he seemed to recognize the situation we were in. ¡°We aren¡¯t going to catch up without getting riddled with holes,¡± I said quietly, inching us toward a nearby canal. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine, Mister Doubouir. Karsien knows what he¡¯s doing. We¡¯ll meet up later, got it? But because you knocked me out of my protection, too, I¡¯m going to make us even.¡±


    Karsien¡¯s mist wall continued to travel north, masking their trek. As I suspected, my mentor knew I¡¯d catch up. Most of the vicars followed it, trying to get rid of whatever was fueling the spell.


    Sevren¡¯s eyes darted to the canal beside us. I smiled sweetly. ¡°The best way to make it past this wall of vicars is underwater,¡± I said. ¡°The blithe mist can¡¯t reach us as easily underwater, too. And it¡¯s just so, so sad that we¡¯re both going to have to swim through it, isn¡¯t it?¡± Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The highblood pushed my arm away, then withdrew a small metal cube. ¡°I have a powerful cloaking artifact here. It¡¯s how I managed to smuggle my sister and me into your camp in the first place without drawing the attention of that blithe,¡± he snarled, his shoulders heaving. ¡°We don¡¯t need to dunk ourselves in a canal, but we can¡¯t afford to move too fast, or else the protection will fuzz.¡±


    I frowned, feeling irritated that the man had ruined my plans to push him into the water. ¡°Fine,¡± I ground out, feeling almost pouty. ¡°But you¡¯re going to follow me. I know these streets almost as well as East Fiachra¡¯s. We¡¯re going to walk like thieves, Mister Doubouir, not soldiers.¡±


    I felt the little device in Sevren¡¯s hand activate, covering us both in a small wall of condensed mana. I breathed a little easier as I felt the surety envelop me.


    I clung low to the ground, keeping to the shadows as I took a covert route northward. As we¡¯d gone through North Fiachra while trailing the splashes of green overhead, I¡¯d long since realized where exactly we were headed. Where this final showdown with blithe would take place.


    Sevren was able to match my pace surprisingly well. I¡¯d taken him for a snooty, holier-than-thou man after how I saw him treat other highbloods, yet I found myself surprised with how well he moved through stealth.


    You¡¯re a thief, too, aren¡¯t you? I thought wickedly as I peeked around a corner, noting as Baela directed a few unadorned down another street. They ran with abandon, no doubt fearing the retribution of the vicars high above. Thankfully, Karsien¡¯s path of water had drawn the attention of most as they tried to rip him out of his shell.


    Baela made eye contact with me after a moment, and for the first time, I noticed the other men trailing her. A contingent of highblood guards stood in tattered uniforms, haunted casts to their eyes and the look of a startled rabbit. In their center was a familiar man. What was his name? ¡®Rambling¡¯ something. The tattered crest on his jerkin was a dark helmet. I could¡¯ve sworn I¡¯d stolen from him before.


    I patted Sevren¡¯s arm, then pulled us forward. Baela probably had a good idea of where the vicars were most concentrated, seeing as she¡¯d been through here a bit more. Sevren and I could plan a more controlled push forward.


    ¡°Baela!¡± I said in a whisper-yell. ¡°How are the evacuations?¡±


    Baela looked nervously back at Rambling, whose eyes were fixed intently on Sevren. The man was a bit broader than average, bearing a build more akin to Hofal¡¯s. His greying hair had probably used to be slicked back, but now he huffed while holding his cane for support. His elegant silk suit looked more than scorched.


    ¡°We¡¯ve gotten a lot of people out of their homes so far and into the pockets of mist,¡± she said hurriedly. ¡°The vicars tried to break through them, but after we gathered enough mages, we were safe. They¡¯re able to fend off their attacks while we go out looking for more survivors.¡±


    I nodded. When I opened my mouth to speak again, I was surprised to hear the steady timber of Rambling¡¯s voice. ¡°Sevren of Highblood Denoir,¡± he breathed. ¡°You¡¯re here, too?¡± He looked at me, his calculating eyes narrowing. ¡°And you. You stole from my manse, once. A priceless artifact handed down by my great-aunt. It cost me an arm and a leg to buy it back once it got onto the market.¡±


    Oh, yeah! Morthelm! He was one of our first targets, and I¡¯d gotten a pretty penny for pawning that bracelet off. I snapped my fingers. ¡°But it was a really nice bracelet,¡± I said, then decided to ignore the affronted man as I turned back to Baela. ¡°Can you tell me the safest route northward? I got separated from the rest who are going to attack and we need a good route onward.¡±


    Baela fidgeted nervously, Benny clutching her pant leg. ¡°If you go by the big fountain east of here, that¡¯s clearer. We¡¯d planned to drop one of the protective spells there, but the area was too decimated by spellfire and other debris. It wasn¡¯t a good gathering place. But if you just want to pass through¡­¡±


    I nodded, turning to the side and preparing to leave. There was only so much time left, and Karsien would be waiting for me. This city was waiting for me.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Morthelm said as I prepared to leave. ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re Lord Daen¡¯s friend, aren¡¯t you?¡± he said, looking at me.


    I nodded, itching to leave. ¡°He¡¯s a good man,¡± I said. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for him, your ungrateful, lazy ass wouldn¡¯t be getting saved right now.¡±


    ¡°He kicked the bad man who tried to stab me,¡± Benny said from Baela¡¯s skirt. ¡°Used his magic and everything! He¡¯s the best mage there is, I promise! He¡¯ll come here to save us soon!¡±


    Morthelm¡¯s eyes focused on the little boy without fingers, his mouth slowly working. I could almost see the calculations he was doing in his head. I thought steam might fly from his ears from how hard he was thinking.


    Then he seemed to realize something as his eyes widened in disbelief.


    Morthelm looked at Sevren, then back at Baela. ¡°I see it now. Highbloods working with street rats. The highest of the high being helped by the lowest of the low, all coordinated by unadorned,¡± he breathed, his back straightening as his eyes flashed. ¡°And you all know Toren Daen. This is what he meant, wasn¡¯t it? What he was trying to do?¡±


    An explosion sounded nearby, and several vicars slid onto the street. They looked at our group hungrily, jeering their promises of salvation.


    Fuck! I thought, recognizing the situation we¡¯d just gotten ourselves in. Now that the vicars had spotted us, we¡¯d have to fight or chase them. I began to summon my ice daggers, but a hand on my shoulder pushed me back.


    I squawked angrily as Renton Morthelm put himself between the group and the vicars, his guards hesitating by Baela¡¯s side. His cane tapped on the ground as he walked forward, putting himself in our enemy¡¯s sights.


    ¡°Take my men,¡± he said, not turning around, ¡°To somewhere safe.¡±


    Baela hesitated, seeming unsure. Renton turned his head back, inspecting the mother and the boy. ¡°What is your name, woman?¡± he said, slightly gruff. ¡°I realize now that I never asked for the name of my savior.¡±


    ¡°Baela,¡± the woman stuttered, taking a few steps back. Morthelm¡¯s guards seemed unsure as they hesitated, too.


    ¡°Go,¡± Renton said, unsheathing a sword from his cane. He flourished it, and I felt a pulse of mana emanate from him. It spread over the street, washing against the vicars who prowled along the rooftops and cobbles. ¡°I may be old, Miss Baela, but I still bear the pride of Highblood Morthelm.¡° The vicars focused on Renton as the mana flowed over with unnatural intensity, their eyes shifting as some sort of spell enraptured their focus. ¡°It has been a long, long time since I acted as the shield for my ascending party, my spells drawing the attention of every fell beast that crossed our path. But know well that no enemy shall pass me.¡±


    Sevren stumbled forward, gripping Renton¡¯s arm with his sole remaining hand. ¡°You intend to die here?¡± he asked, sounding baffled. ¡°You won¡¯t survive. And you¡¯re doing this¡­ for nonmages.¡±


    Renton scoffed, shrugging off Mister Doubouir¡¯s hand. ¡°Lord Daen was right,¡± he said, flourishing his cane. ¡°I would not have believed him had he told me what he was trying to do. Yet without his efforts¡­ Without them, we would all be consumed. I am old, not senile. Our home has a chance because of Lord Daen. So go with the Young Rat, Lord Denoir, and save our city.¡±


    I grabbed Sevren¡¯s shoulder, towing him away as the vicars closed in. Renton breathed out a puff of air, then tapped his cane against the ground. A swirl of wind rose along his body, coating him entirely in armor that redirected and disoriented anything that got too close. A helmet settled over his head, one that looked exactly like his family sigil. ¡°Come, you beasts!¡± he called, protected from the blithe mist so long as his spell held. ¡°Know the strength of Highblood Morthelm!¡±


    Sevren watched in awe as I pulled him away toward where Baela had indicated earlier. I gritted my teeth as I heard the sound of clashing steel and spellfire behind us.


    We needed to reach the Joan estate.

 Chapter 143: Event Horizon

    Naereni


    I heaved for breath as I leaned against a wall, trying to get my breathing under control. I brushed my hands against the bricks as I looked up, spotting Karsien¡¯s mist bubble at last. It had been a tense few minutes as Sevren and I had run toward the Joans¡¯ estate, and sure enough, I could see the blithe gas concentrating over the estate.


    I walked toward the mist, the one-armed highblood in tow behind me. Something in what old Renton Morthelm had done had shaken the man deeply, his steps almost coming a moment too late every time we moved.


    I entered the mist without reservations. As expected, it didn¡¯t hamper my senses at all. Karsien had keyed his spell to the both of us, after all.


    Caera ran through the fog, enveloping her brother in a tender hug. ¡°Took you long enough to get back,¡± she said tiredly. ¡°After you were knocked out of the bubble, the others said you¡¯d be back. That Naereni would lead you here just fine, but I didn¡¯t entirely believe them.¡± Caera looked at me, swallowing with emotion. ¡°Thank you.¡± sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I waved dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s no problem, Boulders,¡± I said. ¡°Your brother here can¡¯t help but throw himself into danger.¡±


    Boulders, of course, looked as affronted as the first time I¡¯d called her by her new moniker. Then her features shifted into something more devious. ¡°So you say, twitter-fingers,¡± she said, puffing her chest out slightly.


    I blinked, then looked down at my hands. Sure enough, I¡¯d been wriggling them as I sometimes did subconsciously whenever I was stressed.


    Oh, she can hit back too, I thought, a grin stretching across my face. I patted Caera¡¯s arm playfully as I passed her, and for once, I didn¡¯t even try and steal something by doing so. ¡°You¡¯re a quick learner.¡±


    Karsien was camped outside the gate into the Joans¡¯ estate. The leaves had finally started to come in on the trees surrounding the large courtyard, and they provided excellent cover. His eyes traced a spot of blithe mist as it entered the dilapidated estate, still decrepit and broken from the battle that went down inside months ago. The area was silent as a grave, the only sound the occasional explosion or rumble from the far distance.


    ¡°It¡¯s too quiet,¡± Karsien said. ¡°The attacks from the vicars dropped off shortly after we got closer.¡±


    I hummed nervously, acknowledging that truth. There was an almost palpable darkness radiating from the estate, a queasy sickness that seemed to infect the air and make breathing difficult. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a silent warning as power gathered in that estate.


    How much mana has been siphoned from the people of Fiachra? I thought, licking my lips which felt suddenly dry. The trees around me seemed to cringe away from the ominous aura that churned in the heart of our destination.


    ¡°Our plans don¡¯t change,¡± Sevren said, patting his sister on the back as he walked forward. He withdrew the beastward from his dimension ring. ¡°Breaking this around the central node of basilisk blood should disrupt the hivemind functions of the blithe itself. And once the blithe is inert, it shouldn¡¯t spread so dangerously.¡±


    I summoned a dagger of ice, closing my eyes as I kissed the pommel. I remembered my father¡¯s cold body, the blithe needle stuck in his arm just like a dagger.


    We end this today, one way or another, I thought, walking in lockstep with my mentor as we passed the gate. The Joans¡¯ estate yawned like the mouth of an old mausoleum. Yet a mausoleum would hold nothing but dusty bones and forgotten memories.


    This place? It held demons.


    Karsien¡¯s hands gripped the doornob. He looked at everyone present, giving them each a quiet nod of acknowledgment, before opening the door.


    The inside of the estate had changed from the last time I¡¯d seen it. Most of the roof had collapsed as months of weathering wore away at the already weakened structure. A large room stretched before us: doubly larger due to crumbling walls and unsupported floors. What had once been a picture of decadence had fallen into the deepest sort of decay. That of being forgotten.


    But my attention was immediately drawn to something at the center of the room. A massive heart-shaped ruby-red crystal vibrated audibly, the noxious aura emanating from it scraping against my skin. Green energy roiled within, a streaking red seeming to tie it back into the crystalline form. The sheer amount of compressed mana in that thing made it hard to think, the pressure scrambling my thoughts and causing my reason to run dry. Two black spikes, each as long as my forearm, thrust into the heart like nails driven into wood.


    How many people? I thought, struggling to speak. How many others lost their fathers to this drug to make whatever this horrid heart is?


    I watched mutely as a stream of blithe mist descended from the hole in the ceiling, no doubt having come from some poor fool who¡¯d been converted to a mana battery. I watched in disgust as the mist wrapped itself around the red crystal, being absorbed at a rapid pace.


    Sevren stepped forward, the beastward covertly held in his palm. A mask of grim determination spread across his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ve waited for far too long,¡± a voice like oozing slime said from above, ¡°far too long to see my purpose fulfilled.¡±


    My limbs locked up, the contained pressure radiating from the crystal battery suddenly overwhelmed by a power beyond my ken. My breath left my body as an aura in the air stole it from me greedily. My knees shook, my mana stalling as I looked up, my wide eyes drinking in the horrible sight before me.


    Mardeth, the Vicar of Plague, hovered near the ceiling, his long, gangly legs crossed nonchalantly and a misshapen finger tapping against the side of his skull. I¡¯d never seen the man before this, but I knew it was him. His mottled skin was riddled with blithe stains, and a milky white eye, though clearly blind, seemed to strip me bare. It seemed set too far forward in his skull, like it wished to crawl its way out to get even closer to me. An aura of quiet menace radiated from the vicar, making everyone present quake.


    Yet that aura was only compounded by the long, protruding horn that jutted from his forehead. It looked mismatched for his body: it was smooth and elegant, bearing striations of deep red across its onyx surface that seemed to dance with the shadows. It had the same air of regality as a dark iron crown, though the king who wore it seemed paltry in comparison. Through the haze of my terror, I was able to recognize what I was looking at. Around the base of the horn, ugly black stitches and bloody cuts belied the truth.


    That horn had been grafted on. Transplanted from somewhere.


    ¡°Do you know what makes power, Rats?¡± Mardeth asked the silent room. I dared not breathe, some primal part of me hoping that if I didn¡¯t move, he wouldn¡¯t see me. ¡°It is pain. The pain of struggle.¡±


    His good eye burrowed into me for a moment, and I heard myself whimper slightly as his aura pressed down on me. All of us coming on this mission were aware Mardeth could be here. We hadn¡¯t said anything, fearing to make our terrors a reality. If we didn¡¯t think about the guardian of our final destination, then he wouldn¡¯t haunt our steps.


    But we couldn¡¯t ignore it any longer. He was here.


    ¡°I plateaued in power long ago,¡± Mardeth said with a snort, content to hover in the air and twiddle his fingers. ¡°I wanted to become Scythe Melzri¡¯s Retainer to help me push past my limits. Then I¡¯d kill her, too, taking her position as Scythe. One day, I would take Varadoth¡¯s head for myself as well.¡±


    Mardeth¡¯s eyes left me, and I almost felt I could breathe. Instead, his sole eye narrowed to Sevren Denoir, who shook visibly, clutching the remains of his sleeve. ¡°Until I discovered something. Something ancient, dark, and powerful,¡± he said, brushing his hand against the deadly beautiful horn grafted to his skull. ¡°They say a god died where the Redwater flows. Nobody knows where the rumor started. Who witnessed such a battle, or when exactly it took place. Every account differs on why there was a fight. Some say a basilisk was protecting you petty lessers. Another claims it was simply bloodlust driving the fighters. But every. Single. Account. Says that a god died. That their blood and sacrifice tainted that river forevermore.¡±


    Mardeth smiled, his lips stretching nearly to his ears. His mouth was unnaturally wide as he smiled with blackened teeth, the maw seeming to invite my death. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just any god that died. I found what was left, the remains seeping into the Redwater. A Vritra died in those waters, their corpse long gone. But there was something that remained for me, as if fated. And so I knew what I had to do. I would make myself a god.¡±


    ¡°You think you¡¯ll be a god?¡± my mouth said. My brain desperately told me to shut up. To slink away, back to East Fiachra. That¡¯s where I belonged, not here doing something so important. I was simply a slumrat. ¡°You¡¯re no Vritra. And you never will be. That horn on your head would fit the shit on my shoes better than you,¡± I snarled, emotion overriding sense.


    Mardeth''s hands slowly lowered from the horn on his shoulders. ¡°I am going to kill you slowly, Rat, if not for that statement, then to make the little mage feel a fraction of the pain he put me through by denying me my goal,¡± he said, slowly lowering in the air. ¡°But I need an audience. What is a god without worshippers? So you¡¯ll live until my ascension,¡± he said with a smile that looked like a grimace. ¡°And then I shall allow you to die.¡±


    I felt a horrid, turbulent shift in the mana, the roiling mass of energy inside the basilisk crystal lurching and churning. Only Caera seemed to recognize what was happening as the decay-attribute blithe churned in the heart crystal, entering the spikes¨Cno, horns¨Cembedded into it. They began to glow with a bright green light, the energy within focusing to a razor-sharp point. It traveled through the air in a barely visible tendril, a murky green energy questing for something.


    And then that tendril of purified mana touched the horn on Mardeth¡¯s forehead. I watched in horror as it was sucked into the beautiful horn, the Vicar of Plague shaking visibly as he closed his eyes in bliss¨Cor agony. ¡°I will be a Sovereign,¡± he declared, the mana pumping through him in waves. ¡°My purpose will finally be fulfilled!¡±


    My body moved. My mind still stayed in that place of terror, where I was a little girl again unknowingly on the streets and running from every shadow. But my instincts blared at me: I needed to stop this. I couldn¡¯t let whatever Mardeth was doing with the energy come to pass. Every fiber of my being told me that whatever the Vicar of Plague was trying, the completion would spell doom for all I knew.


    I threw an ice knife at Mardeth, leaving behind several glyphs as I ran forward. The knife dissolved with the Vicar¡¯s skin on contact, sickly green ooze absorbing the spell. He opened his eyes, a frown plastered on his face as he stared down at me.


    An all-encompassing mist surged through the room like galloping stallions, covering every corner as Karsien engaged his regalia. I felt the cool water vapor surrounding me as it covered me in a protective embrace, the dewdrops kissing my skin. Though the mist sizzled away whenever it neared the massive red crystal, I felt a wave of relief as a bit of Mardeth¡¯s pressure relented.


    A mist clone leapt at Mardeth, swinging a knife made of solid mist. A tendril of deep green punched through it, dispersing it as if it were never there. Hofal leaped forward, scraping his axe against the floor and pulling walls from the ground. They rose in a steplike pattern, ascending toward Mardeth¡¯s waiting form. Along the topmost step was one of the glyphs I¡¯d placed earlier.


    The vicar seemed surprised by the mist, his single good eye turning and trying to focus. They passed right over me as I circled the floating monstrosity, laying down glyphs with every other step. I felt my mana squeeze as I wrung myself dry, each rune taxing me more. I could no longer distinguish the sweat glistening on my forehead from Karsien¡¯s mist condensing along my body.


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    Hofal followed behind me, slamming his axe into the ground around each of my glyphs. The earth underneath spurted up like a tower every time, intricate little details and architectural sculpting inlaid into his spell. Yet my runes rose to Mardeth¡¯s height, pillars ascending one by one.


    A blade of wind rocketed toward the vicar from Caera, who was wielding a single-edged ruby blade as long as she was tall. I recognized the material immediately: the same basilisk blood that formed the crystal behind us. But as I continued my circle of the vicar, Caera¡¯s devastating wind blades kept the monster focused. He had to visibly focus to sense where they were coming from, the mist damning even his perception to oblivion. When they neared, tendrils of murky green acid ate away at the mana, but Caera repositioned with the grace and speed of a trained fighter, never using the same exact cut twice.


    ¡°You think this can kill me, Rats?¡± Mardeth asked, his slippery voice sounding amused as he chuckled. Intermittently, mist clones surged from the pervading vapor, trying to stab Mardeth in the back or pull on his leg. The vicar¡¯s tendrils of sludge seemed to detect these automatically, dissolving them or constricting around each clone. ¡°This mist is nothing to me. I can destroy it with the twitch of my fingers.¡±


    None responded to the vicar¡¯s jibes, every single person too wary of giving away their location. Instead, we cast our spells with near perfect synchronization. There was no time for quips. No time for banter, as I usually did. Only survival.


    I completed my circle, heaving for breath as my mana core ached. I stumbled as I reached the first pillar Hofal had created, leaning into the stone and trying to gather myself. My fingers brushed over the intricate arches and designs he wove into each and every structure, the tactile familiarity grounding me. But there was still one thing more I needed to do.


    I concentrated nearly every remaining drop of my mana into a single spell. Ice formed over my palms, condensing a dozen times over into a compact dagger. The weapon that eventually formed was a deep, static blue that seemed to freeze even the mists around it. My legs trembled from the effort I¡¯d expended to create it.


    I held the dagger out into the mists. ¡°This is the focus,¡± I said, slumping against the pillar.


    As expected, I felt a phantom hand take the knife from my grasp. Hofal skidded to a stop next to me a moment later, wrapping his beefy arms under my shoulder. ¡°You can¡¯t stay in one place too long,¡± he admonished as he helped me move. ¡°You need to be in every place at once to allow the mist to work at its best.¡±


    I locked eyes with Caera, who seemed to understand the silent communication I sent her. With her next swipe of wind, she backed off, ready to allow our plan to settle into place.


    A dozen mist clones coalesced around the many earthen pillars that surrounded Mardeth like the bars of a cage. They stood stock still, each looking up at the vicar with grim determination.


    I saw a flash of Karsien¡¯s body as he bound toward Mardeth, running up steps of earth as his clones looked on seriously. He jumped as he reached the top step, my deep blue dagger flashing in his hands as he held it in a reverse grip, prepared to drive it into the vicar¡¯s back.


    The vicar spun, his hand whipping out faster than I could track as his fingers closed around Karsien¡¯s throat. My mentor lurched in midair, my stomach doing a perfect mirror of the action as the monster held him suspended by his neck. Mardeth sneered contemptuously as he wrenched the dagger from Karsien¡¯s hand, his touch dissolving the appendage down to the bone just on contact.


    Karsien screamed in pain. I felt compelled to do the same, feeling a grim terror wash over me as green lines spread through my mentor¡¯s throat. But I couldn¡¯t.


    The battlefield froze as Mardeth inspected the dagger in his hand. ¡°You thought this was enough to kill me, did you?¡± he asked, inspecting the spellforged knife. Karsien grunted in pain as he clawed at the vicar¡¯s hand, still clasping his throat. But as my mentor¡¯s bandana slowly decayed, I saw his signature smile. The one he wore as a mask from the moment I¡¯d met him.


    ¡°No,¡± he ground out, his voice pained and watery. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. I expected it to¡­ to hold you.¡±


    I exhaled a shuddering breath, then smashed my hands together. The glyphs on every single pillar glowed once, twice, then erupted with icy chains as they streaked toward the dagger. As was the nature of this spell, each interlocking chain wove around the target before cinching back toward the deep blue knife. Thick bonds grew taut as the vicar was bound fast, a hundred wrappings tying him to Hofal¡¯s raised stone monuments. My ice hissed and popped with power, the utter focus I¡¯d put into them evident. The mist clones below darted away in every direction as the trap was finally sprung.


    Mardeth looked at Karsien, whom he still clutched tightly in one hand. Karsien grinned. ¡°First rule of thievery, Mardeth,¡± he said cheerily, his voice strong despite the agonizing pain he must have been in.


    As each and every mist clone ran away, they fanned out in a perfect circle. Yet as one of the mist clones neared the basilisk blood crystal, it dispersed from the radiating energy, which still tracked toward Mardeth¡¯s grafted horn.


    And underneath that mist clone was the one-armed Sevren Denoir. He held the beastward in his hand, primed to smash it against the crystal. By hiding within the presence-obscuring effects of the mist clone, he¡¯d been able to get far closer to the source of that power than otherwise. And because a dozen clones ran in different directions, it wasn¡¯t immediately clear that this was the target.


    The highblood was so close, barely ten feet away! He would make it! My chains only needed to hold the vicar for a second! Hope surged in my breast as I grinned, feeling the oncoming euphoria of a heist completed. We¡¯d conned so many people, but this? This was a masterpiece!


    Everything that happened next seemed to come in slow motion. Mardeth''s eyes widened, a sense of horror twisting his face as realization dawned.


    And then he blurred. The bindings I¡¯d conjured shattered around him as he dropped Karsien, then grabbed one of my icy chains. He heaved on the chain, a primal power coursing through him as he wrenched the pillar free from the earth with my spell as leverage. In one swift motion, he flicked the chain at Sevren, several tons of stone following in its wake.


    The one-armed man, who had been so, so so close, barely managed to duck the attack, throwing himself to his stomach. The pillar whooshed overhead, arcing back around toward¨C


    Hofal leapt in front of me, slamming his axe into the ground and conjuring a wall to protect us both as his own earthen block hurtled toward us on a leash of my own ice. Yet Hofal¡¯s defensive wall was hastily made; conjured in the spur of the moment. The pillar he¡¯d formed before had the same amount of powerful condensation as my ice chains.


    The pillar broke through Hofal¡¯s makeshift barrier, tearing through half the Joan estate¡¯s remaining walls in the process. The horrible sound of rock shattering was the last thing I perceived as the pillar smashed into Hofal, blowing us both away.


    My world erupted in pain as I hit something hard. I felt something in my leg snap as I cracked against stone, a scream wrenching itself from my throat. I struggled not to black out as I tumbled forward from the wall I¡¯d crashed into, falling onto the floor. Hofal¡¯s body¨Cbloodied and beaten¨Crested nearby, the older man coughing blood from his lips.


    I whimpered as I looked back up at the battlefield, some primitive part of my mind terrified of what I might see. Agony surged from my broken leg, my thoughts hazy after the sudden impact. But that agony felt miniscule as I watched Mardeth stalk toward Sevren.


    The highblood man heir stumbled backward, his face wrought with fear. Mardeth knelt, picking up a nondescript black object from the ground. ¡°A beastward,¡± he hissed angrily, his intent rushing out once more. Sevren must¡¯ve dropped it when he hastily ducked that pillar.


    Mardeth''s hand clenched around the beastward, subsuming it in plague. I felt something in me crack as I watched our last hope wither away.


    I thought I¡¯d known true terror before when the vicar¡¯s intent was bearing down on us. I¡¯d known he¡¯d been playing around. Toying with us. But for the first time, I saw fury on his features.


    I wished for nothing more than to curl into a ball and hide. I was a little girl again and the darkness had come for me with more anger and hatred than ever before. Mardeth''s intent told me the truth of my existence. I was weak. Insignificant. I¡¯d never help anyone, and I never had helped anyone.


    The Vicar of Plague stalked forward, mana roiling and snapping at his call. ¡°I¡¯m going to make your death as slow as Toren Daen¡¯s,¡± Mardeth spat, his horn glowing with energy. ¡°I¡¯m going to string you up by your spine, allowing you to feel but never end!¡± He raised a hand, which pulsed with green energy. ¡°You¡¯ll wish you never dared defy me, you skulking lesser!¡±


    A surge of decay mana rushed for Sevren. In the part of my mind that was still conscious, I felt certain that this was where I was going to watch the man die. He¡¯d be little more than a puddle on the floor as the mana consumed him, the rest of us not far behind.


    But something else intercepted Mardeth¡¯s spell. In the darkness of the decimated Joan estate, I struggled to see what it was as it battled against the Vicar¡¯s mana, matching it in power.


    It was¡­ black fire? Yes, a nimbus of black fire ate away at the surging acid seeking Sevren¡¯s form. They swirled and intertwined, a dance of deep dark and sickly green before they both faded away into nothing.


    Caera Denoir limped forward, placing herself in front of her fallen brother. Her navy hair was in horrid disarray. Dust and dirt lined every inch of her red dress, the once-marvelous outfit marred by the cuts of battle. A stream of blood trailed down the edge of her lip, and an aura of condensed power trailed in her wake, one that I was baffled I hadn¡¯t sensed before. She hefted her large basilisk-blood sword, pointing it at the vicar not ten feet away. After a second, black soulfire popped and fizzed into existence along the edge of the blade, coating it in a decaying wave of Vritra-blooded flame.


    ¡°You won¡¯t take him from me, Vicar of Plague,¡± Caera said, her knees shaking slightly as she settled into stance. ¡°You¡¯ll have to rip the horns from my head to do so,¡± she declared.


    Sevren gaped from the floor, his eyes darting from the black fire along the red blade, to his sisters¡¯ grimly determined face, and back again.


    Mardeth sneered contemptuously. ¡°Every single step is riddled with pain,¡± he muttered, floating up a bit higher in the air. ¡°Every step. It is just another challenge for me to overcome.¡±


    His eye flicked over the battlefield, the energy slowly coursing from the basilisk blood crystal still surging into his horn. ¡°I wanted an audience for my ascension, but now I realize the foolishness of my actions. I will be a god to you lessers. I do not need your worship!¡±


    He hovered higher into the sky, raising a gnarled and decrepit hand above his head. Mana sparked and sputtered there, before popping with a disgusting squelch. A torrent of energy filtered into his palm as he looked down on us like ants, more and more decaying sludge condensing into a sphere above his head.


    It enlarged once. Twice. And then a third time, till the sphere of compressed decay magic roiled like the heart of a bonfire. Chunky, acidic liquid seethed and popped in a ball of power as large as a house.


    I could smell it, too. I¡¯d grown accustomed to the stench of filth over my years as a street rat. The sewers of Fiachra were my home in a way I could never explain, and I¡¯d long grown to tolerate the seeping smell of everyone¡¯s refuse. After all, everyone in East Fiachra was a part of that refuse, too.


    But the stench of the spell that cast a shadow over all of us was nearly as overwhelming as the mana within. I gagged, tears gathering at the edge of my eyes as I vomited, shaking slightly. I tried to pull myself forward, dragging myself toward Hofal.


    If I was going to die here, I didn¡¯t want it to be alone. I saw Hofal struggling to stand, blood leaking from a dozen spots on his body. He was another father who was going stiff and cold, except this time it would be together.


    I grasped his hand with mine, my shattered leg screaming in agony as I pulled myself against the man who had been a father to me for the past few years. He held me in bloody arms, whispering soft, comforting words I couldn¡¯t understand through red-stained lips.


    Caera Denoir¡¯s body shook as she set her sword into position for a diagonally upward cut, the highblood woman lowering her body into a stance for an iai. Power surged from her as she funneled black soulfire into her sword, the warrior facing the palpable waves of power with her own stalwart resolve. Behind her, Sevren Denoir struggled to stand.


    We¡¯re going to die here, I thought, the realization crystal clear. This is how the Rats end. By biting the tail of a cat.


    Even Mardeth seemed winded from the effort of conjuring the looming mass of swirling liquid above us, his fury-burned eye glaring down at us even as he heaved for breath. His long, gangly limbs twitched once, twice, and then he waved his hand downward.


    The ball of horrid sludge moved ominously slow as it traced a path down to us. I didn¡¯t take my eyes off of it as it approached, feeling the energy that would take my life. Caera exhaled, preparing to swing her soulfire-coated sword.


    But then a long, humming streak of deep red flashed into existence, blinding and bright and angry. Far faster than I could see, the burning blur smashed into Mardeth¡¯s spell with a streak of light, solid and sure. I heard the crack of sound a split second later as the wind blew around me, sending rocks and debris flying.


    Mardeth''s spell bulged inward. For the barest instant of impact, it appeared as if a rod of red-hot iron were poking a rubber ball, compressing the material inward as it pierced the surface. Time seemed to slow as I watched the red and green intermingle with pent-up fury, the mana clashing and warping the air. A second shockwave sent me rolling to the side as the vicar¡¯s spell splashed backward, pierced through as the spear of plasma found victory. A hundred tons of compressed rot splashed all through the Joans¡¯ estate, but none reached us. I felt the floorboards creak as I looked up with wide, uncomprehending eyes.


    That streak of light had punched through the walls of the estate once more as it sought its target, revealing the nighttime world outside. I peered through that hole, my jaw agape and my limbs trembling as I saw the source of that power.


    Toren Daen stood in the center of the courtyard, his breathing slightly uneven. His red chain tattoo glowed angrily, and runic orange feather stems pulsed brightly under his eyes. His mouth was bared in a savage grimace as he stalked forward, his lips pulled back in a horrible snarl.


    ¡°Mardeth,¡± he ground out, his voice echoing unnaturally through the air. ¡°It¡¯s time I fulfilled my Oath on your blood.¡±

 Chapter 144: Beneath the Clash of Titans

    Naereni


    I never thought the sun could be angry. Throughout my life, the sun was the only bright thing in my life. As a child, I¡¯d always stuck to the shadows, avoiding the enlightening brush of sunlight. Sunlight meant you were spotted, the dark protections of alleyway corners and broken buildings stripped from you. It meant you became a target of the bigger children who would take all your food from your pockets and leave you hungry. And if you were especially unlucky, an adult who wanted an easy meal from whatever you had on you.


    But even when the sunlight touched my skin, it was warm and inviting. The sun was a naive dot in the sky, spreading its light over everything in a healthy yellow smile. The sun didn¡¯t know that my gut clenched in hunger, or that I hadn¡¯t washed in months. It continued to blissfully believe in the light, trying to entice me into its embrace.


    The sun was never angry. Never deceitful; just ignorant.


    Mardeth''s aura was like a constricting serpent that wrapped around your soul, squeezing tighter and tighter in a gradual, deathly embrace as it dripped venom into your ears. The poison it whispered into your mind was just as deadly as the tightening weave it held around your body; telling you you were nothing. That you were lesser. That this was your inevitable fate; to slither on the ground and eat the dirt as you groveled.


    But Toren¡¯s intent blazed like a furious star, waves of power radiating off of him in a palpable rhythm. It was like the beating of the world¡¯s deepest drum, the reverberations seeming to travel through the very ground I lay on. The power that he cast wasn¡¯t ignorant like the sun, but neither was it warm and inviting. It was a burning thing that barely resisted the urge to sear. Its purpose was to burn everything away, after all. Toren¡¯s aura made me want to huddle and close my eyes for fear of blinding myself. This wasn¡¯t a person; it was a force. You couldn¡¯t reason with a force. You couldn¡¯t steal from a force. You just hoped it would not burn you for daring to witness it.


    I can¡¯t tell who is stronger between them, part of me thought. Their strength is so far above mine that I can¡¯t even gauge it anymore.


    When submerged beneath the water, one couldn¡¯t tell if it was a lake or a sea.


    Karsien watched from where he lay, green lines stretching along his neck and shoulders from where the vicar had grasped his throat. He coughed weakly as Toren slowly advanced, a smirk on his scarred features. Hofal groaned next to me on the floor, his face a mask of pain. Sevren Denoir slowly pulled himself to his feet as Caera¡¯s soulfire sputtered out, her scarlet gaze wild and uncomprehending as it roamed over Toren¡¯s form. She moved out of the way as Toren stepped past her, watching his back.


    ¡°I heard you had a visit from Varadoth, little mage,¡± Mardeth said, his eyes snapping to where the remnants of his decimated spell had eaten into the floor. I heard the floor creak and groan beneath me, that decay chewing through the wooden floorboards greedily. ¡°That tittering old fool thought you were someone worth talking to. Worth debating. But he was wrong,¡± the vicar said with slime, his eyes leering at all of us. ¡±You aren¡¯t worth talking to. You¡¯re worth taking from.¡±


    I froze in fear again as Mardeth¡¯s intent blanketed me. I felt my shattered leg shift, the agony coming once again. I cried out in pain, but just as quickly the glaring sunlight of Toren¡¯s aura blanketed me against the constricting serpent.


    I knew that Toren was strong. Frightfully so. But never had I imagined this.


    Toren looked from the stream of energy sifting from the basilisk blood crystal, tracing the connection up to the horn grafted on Mardeth¡¯s forehead. Those burning eyes, which seemed to peer too deep, widened in even further alarm. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been planning,¡± he breathed, drawing the saber at his side and flourishing it once. ¡°To Integrate; to ascend past the white core.¡± He shifted his stance. ¡°I won¡¯t let you.¡±


    ¡°There are legends, even in the depths of the Doctrination. Of what happens when one¡¯s core is pushed too far. Of when it feels the deepest pain,¡± Mardeth mocked, that sickly grin plastered on his face. ¡°I will be of the Sovereigns themselves after tonight, little mage. And you will bear witness.¡±


    For the barest heartbeat, the room held its breath as Mardeth¡¯s sickly promise oozed through the air like cloying rot. I felt as the tension inched closer and closer to the event horizon, power lashing around the two in waves.


    And then the battle began. Toren disappeared in a blur as he impacted Mardeth, the two disappearing further into the dilapidated estate. Bursts of plasma and buzzing sound made the entire building rattle as spells went off. Green splashed somewhere in the distance as roaring thunder cracked across the earth, making the ground shudder. Throughout it all, I could hear Mardeth¡¯s demented laughter.


    The floor around the basilisk blood crystal groaned as the titans fought, then cracked. And it gave way to the floors far beneath, the massive crystal tumbling into the depths below.


    We¡­ we need to destroy that crystal, some part of me that was still awake through the pain thought. Can¡¯t let it go.


    Hofal groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, his body shaking even more than mine. He was bruised all over, and from how he held his left arm, I was sure it was broken.


    I moaned in pain as he wrapped an arm under mine, forcing me to balance on my good leg. I looked down blearily, noting that I didn¡¯t have any bone protruding from my calf where I felt the break, though there was a horrible bruise peeking through the torn fabric.


    I called on my magic one more time, my core lurching as I squeezed it for the last drops I had left. A long rod of ice coalesced around my foot, bracing itself against the edge like a splint.


    Hofal pulled me toward the hole where the red crystal had tumbled down, mumbling slightly to himself. ¡°Need to destroy it,¡± I heard him say through bloodied lips. ¡°Bring down this horrible place.¡±


    The floor rattled again as spellfire sounded throughout the estate. Hofal tumbled forward, landing with a grunt and bringing me with him. I managed to cushion my face with my forearms, the barest trace of my instincts remaining. The hole wasn¡¯t far away, and I could see the others trying to inch their way closer to it as well.


    Toren smashed through a nearby wall back-first, rolling over his shoulder once before adjusting his balance with supernatural precision. The fingers of his left hand¨Cthe one that wasn¡¯t clutching his red saber¨Cdug furrows into the wood as he slid backward, burning tracks left behind on the wood from the soles of his feet. He was bleeding from a wound on his chest where his protective spell had shattered, but I watched in real-time as it healed in washes of purple and orange light.


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    His saber flashed, sending arcs of red plasma at oncoming tendrils of green mana. I could swear we made eye contact as his mana flared, his burning orange pupils seeing to my depths.


    Then he blurred forward again in a burst of fire and splintering wood, darting back into the dark abyss which he¡¯d been thrown from.


    They¡¯ll bring this entire building down on our heads,


    I realized, my thoughts coming more quickly as I wrenched myself to my feet. When I put weight on my splinted leg, I nearly buckled, but Hofal was there to steady me.


    ¡°We¡­ we need to destroy that crystal,¡± I said as I finally loped to the gap in the floor. A splash of moonlight streamed through the broken ceiling, casting the hole in light. Yet darkness nearly as deep as Mardeth¡¯s aura opened before me as I looked down. I couldn¡¯t see the dot of the crystal so far below, but there was a snaking line of mana that threaded from it to Mardeth that I could follow.


    Caera was holding Sevren underneath the arm, the black fire having diminished from her sword. She swallowed as the Joan estate rumbled again, dust falling from the ceiling. ¡°I¡­ I might be able to break it,¡± she said, holding her sword out. ¡°It¡¯s made of the same material. It will work.¡±


    Sevren opened his mouth to say something, but his sister simply pushed him forward. Karsien slowly limped his way to the edge, peering down. His mask and bandana were long gone, and the green splotches where Mardeth had gripped his throat¡­


    They¡¯d spread further along his body. In fact, I could see as more and more of his body was being overcome by the green venom.


    In that instant, thoughts of the battle raging around us and the imminent burning of all I knew faded away. If Karsien didn¡¯t get treatment¨C


    I blinked, opening my mouth to speak.


    And Mardeth was suddenly there, hovering in front of us. We all froze as his aura hit us again, the jerk in our heartbeats making us tremble. He grinned wickedly, raising a palm and congregating energy. ¡°I¡¯ll wipe you off the¨C¡±


    Toren¡¯s fist crashed against Mardeth¡¯s face with a thunderous crack, blowing the vicar back toward the gate of the estate. The burning mage settled down, looking back at us. His clothes were already in tatters, and I spotted several wounds of his streak over with that orange-purple light. A wash of emotions flashed in those eyes of his. His bitter anger; the fury that drove him. The resolve that made him take each next step. And the pain at seeing us all in such broken states.


    He nodded solemnly, and then he was off again, zipping toward the exit of the estate.


    I watched him go, knowing the part I needed to play in this battle. The crystal down below was still feeding Mardeth energy. Making him stronger.


    ¡°I¡­ I can find a way to stop that energy,¡± Sevren said. ¡°Without setting it off to explode. We just need to¨C¡±


    Sevren¡¯s head turned to the side as he sensed something. A few seconds later, I felt it too.


    My blood went cold. The vicars, I thought with horror. The vicars that were dancing around the city. They¡¯re coming here!


    ¡°Go down there, Highlord Denoir,¡± Karsien said, his voice raw and altered by the damage to his throat. ¡°Find a way to destroy that crystal. We¡¯ll hold them off for you.¡±


    Sevren visibly hesitated, his eyes darting between the hole and the upcoming battle. He appeared to recognize where his talents were truly needed. What this fight required of him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not Highlord yet,¡± Sevren said, his voice choked as he prepared to step off the ledge and into the abyss.


    ¡°You should be,¡± Karsien said, turning to face the incoming mana signatures. Mist slowly, painfully, began to seep from his clothes. I could tell the action pained him deeply. ¡°If more highbloods were like you, Alacrya would be a paradise.¡±


    Hofal released my arm, shuffling forward to stand beside Karsien. He held his axe loosely in his hand. ¡°I ran from the Doctrination for too long,¡± he said shakily, pulling out a cigar. ¡°Not anymore.¡±


    They¡¯re going to die if they try to hold off all those mages, I thought, swallowing. We¡­ we¡¯re all going to die.


    I took a step forward, standing aside my mentors and protectors. I faced the exit of the estate, watching as vicars slowly loped forward like rabid dogs sensing blood.


    ¡°You know, if I knew I was going to die today,¡± I said, going for one last quip, ¡°I would have replaced all of Wade¡¯s personal library with picture books filled with me,¡± I said, my voice choking slightly as I painfully prepared to fight. I couldn¡¯t even summon any mana to strengthen my body anymore.


    Sevren gave the Rat an acknowledging nod before he jumped down the hole. Caera bowed slightly to the three of us, a clench in her jaw before she followed suit.


    We only needed to mask this entrance. Block anyone else from getting past us.


    What would Wade think when this was all over, I wondered? As I prepared to settle myself down, I realized I did have one true regret.


    I remembered when I¡¯d first met Wade. He¡¯d lived in East Fiachra when he was young, just like me. When my father had died, I¡¯d been cast out onto the streets, trying to blend into the local gangs of orphaned children, and further avoid the adults who actually ran those gangs from the shadows. Every day had been a fight for survival. A battle to see if I could feed myself the next morning.


    But there was one day. One day when I tried to grab the purse from a young woman, a boy stopped me. I¡¯d tried to run, but considering how little food I¡¯d had that day, I¡¯d simply tripped, faceplanting in the dirt.


    The boy separated from his mom¨Cwhom I¡¯d failed to rob¨Cand instead of whipping me as the other kids always did, he gave me the apples he¡¯d just bought. They were the brightest apples I¡¯d ever seen, and I hadn¡¯t even needed to steal them.


    And I hadn¡¯t even managed to get the boy¡¯s name. All I remembered was his curly brown hair and lopsided spectacles.


    I wish I¡¯d told him, I thought. He probably doesn¡¯t remember it, though, I thought a bit sadly. It likely wasn¡¯t a big deal for him. But for me¡­


    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to die,¡± a gruff voice said from beside me. Hofal revved his mana, what bare reserves he had remaining gravitating to the surface. He lit the cigar in his hand with a lighter, taking a long pull. He exhaled; a weight that had always been on his shoulders releasing in tune.


    ¡°Now, I don¡¯t know about you,¡± I said, forcing a smirk as tears streaked down my dirty face. ¡°But those vicars have a lot of knives, maces, spells, and things that generally don¡¯t agree with our health. And they look more pissed than Wade was that one time I turned all his books upside down.¡±


    Hofal offered Karsien the cigar, chuckling slightly at my joke as he did so. My mentor took it, taking a long, deep drag. When he exhaled, it almost looked like the mist I was so familiar with. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then he turned to look at me. ¡°That¡¯s not what he meant, Naereni,¡± he said, almost softly.


    I had barely a second to think before Hofal pushed me backward. I shouted in surprise as I toppled into the gaping hole, my balance unsteady due to my broken leg. In vain, I tried to grab onto his hand as I tumbled down, the dark swallowing me. High overhead, I saw a clear vision of the moon as it mocked me.


    ¡°Break this castle, Naereni,¡± I heard Hofal say as his earth spell closed the hole above me. ¡°Break it to its uttermost stones.¡±

 Chapter 145: To Keep an Oath

    Toren Daen


    ¡°It¡¯s time I fulfilled my Oath on your blood,¡± I snarled at the hovering vicar, fighting to keep my breathing under control. I¡¯d thrown a Stake of the Morning, recognizing it as the only attack in my arsenal capable of matching the wild vicar¡¯s massive congealed meteor. The same attack that had slain the monstrous serpent in the undead zone so long ago had only served to cancel out Mardeth¡¯s spell.


    But that didn¡¯t matter.


    My fury burned under the surface as I stalked forward, my mana billowing out in a thrum that matched my heartbeat. I¡¯d left Aedelgard in a panic, blurring through the streets and leaving Renea Shorn behind.


    And I¡¯d still been too late. Fiachra was burning under the assault of this madman, disgusting blithe and rotten vicars preying on the defenseless men and women of the City of Canals. I felt my fury rise even further as I spied the decrepit state of my friends, all nearly broken by the Vicar of Plague in front of me.


    I took each step forward to the tune of my own thundering heart, my gaze intent on the blackened fire in Mardeth¡¯s chest.


    I cannot run from this a second time, I thought. Not with so much at stake.


    No, you cannot, Aurora acknowledged. She would rather I bide my time; grow strong enough that any clash with the Vicar of Plague would be a sure victory. But we didn¡¯t have time for that. Mardeth was here.


    Mardeth nearly looked the same as he always had in my nightmares. A mocking, black-toothed smile. Dark gray skin that seemed to wrap too tightly over his bones, like leather stretched over a twisted mannequin. Long fingers that jutted out at odd angles, mirroring his gnarled physique. One milky eye that I could swear still saw, and another that laughed with malice.


    Except there was one difference. He¡¯d shorn his horns clean off the last time I saw him, embedding them into the basilisk blood crystal for some reason. Yet now there was another horn atop his left brow, one that imperiously drank in the light. It had streaks of red that splashed through the onyx like a gentle stream. I couldn¡¯t explain how, but the horn almost looked beautiful atop his head.


    And I could feel the power it contained, entirely separate from Mardeth¡¯s own taunting King¡¯s Force.


    I looked at Caera as I finally reached the center of the room. I felt the grim terror in her intent; the fear for her brother and herself. But beyond that, I could sense her determination, even as it faded into awe.


    She stepped aside, the soulfire along her blade sputtering out as I finally stood before Mardeth.


    ¡°I heard you had a visit from Varadoth, little mage,¡± Mardeth said as I walked forward, fires trailing in my wake. ¡°That tittering old fool thought you were someone worth talking to. Worth debating. But he was wrong,¡± the vicar said with slime, his eyes leering at all of us. ¡±You aren¡¯t worth talking to. You¡¯re worth taking from.¡±


    I know that horn, Aurora said, her voice tinged with a spark of true fear. It was once Brahmos¡¯. Foremost warrior of the Vritra clan. I do not know how this Mardeth found it.


    It is the same dread presence I sensed behind those doors when we infiltrated the Redwater hideout, I thought with a clench in my gut. You said an asura died there. That the legends were true.


    I traced the lines of energy from the basilisk blood crystal behind Mardeth to the horn on his forehead. I didn¡¯t know how the crystal had gained the energy it currently contained, but in the depths of my Acquire Phase, I could sense how the mana changed as it funneled through Mardeth¡¯s broken horns.


    It changes the energy inside to his mana signature, I realized as I traced the visible path of decaying energy to Brahmos¡¯ horn. And then the horn on his forehead concentrates it even further inside of him.


    It all came together like one, horrible puzzle. I saw the path of the dominoes that had been laid months ago. Where they were now, and where they would eventually lead if Mardeth succeeded.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been planning,¡± I said, my horror surpassed by the surety of my task. I drew Oath from my side, flourishing it as I settled into stance. ¡°To Integrate; to ascend past the white core. I won¡¯t let you.¡±


    ¡°There are legends, even in the depths of the Doctrination. Of what happens when one¡¯s core is pushed too far. Of when it feels the deepest pain,¡± Mardeth said, his murky tone violating my ears. ¡°I will be of the Sovereigns themselves after tonight, little mage. And you will bear witness.¡±


    I locked eyes with the Vicar of Plague as the world held its breath. As my mana churned across my assimilated physique and Aurora steadied my thoughts, I saw a gleam in my enemy¡¯s eyes. He¡¯d prepared this in Fiachra for a reason. To make a statement against me.


    My legs tensed as a drop of sweat traced its way down my brow. My body tingled in anticipation, instincts infused through my Will demanding the blood of the mage who dared claim the sky.


    A mindfire stamp propelled me at the vicar. Plasma burned along Oath as I swung it at my enemy¡¯s throat, the edge warping the air with heat.


    A tendril of slime erupted from Mardeth¡¯s back instantaneously, deflecting my swipe and attempting to skewer me through the heart. I lashed myself downward, my plasma-coated hand snapping out to grab the tendril.


    I yanked Mardeth¡¯s tentacle of murky mana, the decay sizzling through the plasma on my hand. Then I hurled him at the wall. The vicar sneered at me as he hurtled backward, smashing through the walls of the Joans¡¯ estate without an inch of care. I darted after his deep black heartfire, Oath humming as plasma burned along its edge.


    I caught up quickly, thrusting a hand forward. A solid beam of plasma erupted from my hand, searing straight through a wall as it sought Mardeth¡¯s heart. Another tentacle of green intercepted it, the two fizzling out on contact and turning the vicar¡¯s spell into a mist. I blurred through the remaining interplay of fire, sound, and Vritra-tinged water mana, my telekinetic shroud shrugging off the refuse. Meredith¡¯s milky eye danced as he laughed.


    I swung a fist coated with plasma at the vicar, another spell layered underneath. One that I¡¯d planned for a long time.


    Mardeth raised a barrier of sludge between us, that persistent gleam mocking me. My fist sank into the sludge with a sizzling squelch, battling the plasma around my arm and trying to get at the soft flesh beneath.


    I smiled, then detonated my secondary spell. Waves of vibrations traveled along Mardeth¡¯s spell, the same trick I¡¯d used to make him bleed in our first fight.


    Except this time, Mardeth simply grinned as he convulsed slightly from the attack, a bead of blood dripping down his lip. ¡°Yes, the pain!¡± he laughed maniacally, before his fist accelerated toward my chest with the force of a runaway train.


    Pull backward, Aurora said in what felt like slow motion as the gnarled fist approached. Roll with the blow!


    I saw the strike coming with my enhanced physique, my instincts heightened even further by the touch of my Will. I grit my teeth as I pulled myself back with my telekinesis just as he struck, hoping to lessen the force of the attack.


    The impact still shattered the telekinetic shroud around my chest, sending me hurtling backward. Pain lanced through my bones as decay mana tried to claw through my skin and muscles.


    I smashed through another wall, dust and chips of mortar exploding around me as I rolled, adjusting my balance so that my feet were beneath me again. My sound-coated fingers dug furrows into the wooden floorboards of the estate as I slid backward.


    My heartfire washed over the wound on my chest, but my telekinetic shroud was slower to mend. The crystalline cracks would take several seconds to fully seal, and in a high-pitched battle, that could spell my doom.


    Three attacks coming from the hallway, Aurora said, her entire focus on this battle. She couldn¡¯t afford to even pilot her relic for fear of missing something crucial. Our thoughts and emotions and intent were in perfect, deadly sync.


    I saw the huddled forms of the Rats along with Sevren and Caera as I swung my saber in three quick cuts. Three arcs of burning plasma blurred off toward the oncoming pustules of rot. They came together in a hateful clash, fire and sound eviscerating murky green. Then I darted forward, chasing the wake of my attacks.


    The Vicar of Plague didn¡¯t run. No, he waited for me as I blitzed toward him, the weight of all his sins imbuing themselves along my knuckles. Mana hummed and raged as sound and fire glimmered in a light-breaking tapestry across my fist.


    I swung my fist, the pale skin of my knuckles visibly shuddering from the oscillating force of sound mana. Angry heat carried the surety of my essence and drive as it banished the darkness of the dilapidated Joan estate.


    Mardeth didn¡¯t try to dodge¨Ceven as my spell punched through his protections. When my knuckles ground against his stomach, propelling my vibrating spell through his insides and pulping meat, he only responded with a pained laugh. I felt his bones crunch and break beneath my strike. ¡°Yes, I knew you were the one!¡± he said as he doubled over. ¡°The only one who could give me pain!¡±


    He shuddered once again, but then his aura expanded. An uncountable number of tendrils suddenly streamed from the shadows like a hundred wriggling worms, each trying to overwhelm me with filth. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I thrust my hand out, layering buzzing domes of sound, fire, and telekinetic force around me in quick succession. The same technique that had allowed me to withstand the onslaught of a soulfire mage with ease buckled and was nearly overwhelmed in an instant as I fought to keep the tide of filth from touching me. Drops and splatters still pushed through my spell¡¯s layers, whispered secrets streaking across my skin. I gritted my teeth as little pinpricks of agony erupted all over my body, the sludge seeping into my veins and trying to reach my heart.


    I exhaled, pushing more mana into my telekinetic shroud and coating myself in as much fire as I could manage. You wish to feel pain, Mardeth, I thought, wincing as his spell tried to tear its way through my mana channels. I¡¯m more than happy to oblige.


    Then I slammed a mindfire stamp into the wood beneath me, blurring forward. My layered shield quickly collapsed as it was suddenly faced with more pressure than it could manage, leaving my body to fight against the sludge alone.


    The fire shroud around my body sputtered weakly as I surged through the muck, but this close to my form, I could condense my mana with greater precision. It wasn¡¯t so easy to break down and wither away. I funneled more mana into my telekinetic shroud, holding my breath as I finally emerged from the tide like a fish leaping from a stream.


    Except Mardeth was gone. My eyes darted around, searching for him desperately. Where could he¨C


    He is back in the main room, Toren! Aurora cried. Near your friends!


    I shot back through the estate, seeing where Mardeth loomed over my worn and weary comrades. I layered another coating of oily sound over my knuckles, then arced into the room.


    You need to move this fight from the estate, Aurora said sternly, an undercurrent of fear in her tone. Fear for me. The more mana he absorbs from that crystal, the stronger he grows.


    In a split instant, I acknowledged my bond¡¯s words.


    Then I threw the most satisfying straight punch I¡¯d ever hurled in my life. My knuckles connected with Mardeth¡¯s temple as my power spread throughout his skull. I felt a grim sort of pleasure as I followed through, the intoxicating crunch of Mardeth¡¯s forehead breaking from the impact giving me a high beyond anything blithe could manage. My fist sent him hurtling through the entrance of the estate into the burning night beyond.


    I landed with a tap of my foot, the remains of my fire shroud finally sizzling away. My hand ached from where my knuckles had shattered, but it was a distant, dull thing under the coursing adrenaline.


    I looked back at the friends I¡¯d made in this world, each having put their lives on the line to try and confront Mardeth. Sevren. Naereni. Hofal. Karsien. Even Caera had done her part to save my home. To save our home.


    They can destroy that crystal, I thought, making eye contact with Sevren and Naereni. I just need to hold Mardeth off. I can do at least that much, can¡¯t I?


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    I held Naereni¡¯s eyes as I nodded, understanding what we both needed to do. Her face melted into something sorrowful as she nodded back.


    I slammed a mindfire stamp into the wood beneath me, rocketing toward where I¡¯d sent Mardeth. I held the thoughts of my friends close to my heart as I approached him in the courtyard, the mage¡¯s ragged robes billowing as he hovered in the air.


    I watched as the slight cut I¡¯d given his wretched brow healed over with a flow of green sludge. Just as fast, the surge of pleasure I¡¯d gotten from it dimmed as well.


    ¡°I was weak once, little mage,¡± Mardeth said, staring up at the moon. Green energy still bled into his horn from a thin line that stretched back into the estate. ¡°I writhed on the ground like those slum rats inside. I fought for everything I needed. I bled and howled and raged. And through the depths of my agony, I finally realized something.¡± He gave me a predatory look as his mana swelled. ¡°The agony was not my enemy. It was my only ally.¡±


    Mardeth rolled his gangly neck, sickly cracking echoing out. He flourished his hand, a heavy mace appearing from nowhere. It was crafted of dark, reflective metal that looked like it had been dunked inside a vat of oil. The head of the mace was serrated and jagged, designed to rend and tear as it crushed. All along the shaft, little segmented razor blades peeked out angrily.


    When the vicar clenched his fist around the shaft, a liquid too dark to be blood streamed from his fingers, the blades digging into his hands. The liquid dripped to the ground, sizzling and burning the grass with a tinge of smoke.


    I shot forward, Oath flashing. Mardeth parried it with his mace casually, the impact sending a jolt up my arm. I grunted as I pulled myself under a rabid swipe of the mace, then surged upward again to try and cut at the vicar¡¯s jaw with a mana-enhanced blur.


    Instead, Mardeth moved into my attack, allowing my blade to cut into his flank. He grinned maniacally as it drew dark, dark blood, but the angle of my cut made it far shallower than I would¡¯ve wished.


    Move, Toren! Aurora said. But my body was already shifting, half a dozen pulls on the ground beneath attempting to maneuver me out of the way.


    Dark sludge erupted from Mardeth¡¯s cut, streaming toward me from close range. I narrowly avoided the surging liquid as I twisted supernaturally to the side, but then Mardeth¡¯s mace elongated. The segmented shaft, which was lined with deadly razor blades, disconnected at the joints as it struck out like a flail.


    I barely raised an arm in time before the attack hit me, the horrid mass of spikes and chopping blades atop Madeth¡¯s mace making a bloody pulp of my forearm. My telekinetic shroud simply melted away at the coating of energy around the mace head as my body screamed in pain. I had a feeling that if I were any other mage, my entire arm would have been broken. Mardeth''s next blow was barely parried by Oath as I backpedaled, trying to buy time for my heartfire to soothe over the pulped meat of my arm.


    I jumped backward, vaulting over the estate wall to land on the branch of a nearby tree. Mardeth blurred forward in hot pursuit, a rictus smile on his face. ¡°Do you think you can run again, little mage?!¡± he yelled as he melted headlong through a tree. ¡°This is the final act! There¡¯s nowhere for you to hide! The name of Seris Vritra will not protect you! That bronze machine that helped you last time cannot save you now! Face the agony, Toren Daen! Face the pain!¡±


    I was already darting through the trees, welcoming them like old friends as I led Mardeth on a merry chase: away from my friends. I sent bullets of solid plasma back toward my foe, spiking them through trees in an attempt to pierce the vicar¡¯s heartfire. The cut along the vicar¡¯s body had long since healed in a wave of caustic acid, but nothing else I threw at him made it to his body. The tendrils of decaying acid erupting from Mardeth¡¯s back seemed to act with a mind of their own, snapping out at anything I sent his way regardless of his perception.


    Keep him within the bounds of this small forest, my bond advised. You are faster than him. More maneuverable. Use that to your advantage.


    That was true. I was faster than Mardeth, even when he was flying. I was able to use my precise telekinetic pushes and pulls like a master, weaving through the forest as if I were unburdened by gravity. This was where I was familiar; where I was the predator.


    ¡°You claim you were once a slum rat,¡± I said, trying to keep my anger contained. My voice echoed unnaturally through the forest as I applied my sound magic. ¡°Yet you persecute all the unadorned in East Fiachra. You¡¯re a hypocrite,¡± I accused.


    I alighted atop the bough of a nearby tree, then darted to the side as a spear of acid cut through the branch I¡¯d been on. I whirled, sending out a wide nimbus of fire that obscured my view. Mardeth, predictably, charged straight through it, expecting to gore me with his tendrils.


    Except I¡¯d dropped, keeping myself low as he lashed out with his mace. It soared overhead, the segmented shaft elongating like a whip as it smashed through three trees in a row. Wood splintered, little bits of shrapnel bouncing off my shroud.


    ¡°I was the only one who understood the pain that we went through,¡± Mardeth retorted with a smile as I surged upward again. We exchanged a few quick blows, sparks flying and brightening the dark night as red and black steel collided.


    I moved through martial forms taught to me by an asura. With the grace and deadly precision of an Asclepius on the wing, I cut and weaved and lashed out with talon and wing, reaping blood and hell with every deft parry.


    But Mardeth¡­ he wasn¡¯t fighting by the normal rules. He didn¡¯t care if I drew dark blood across his flank. He didn¡¯t care if every sound-laden blow pulped his stomach and cracked his bones.


    Because he was healing faster. With every strike, I damaged Mardeth less and less. I felt a growing sense of unease and fear, even as I smashed Mardeth¡¯s flail into the dirt and weaved around a swiping of a tendril of rot.


    Mardeth''s teeth were black as I smashed my knuckles up into his jaw. I watched with growing horror as his teeth crashed together, but before I¡¯d been able to feel his bones cracking from my blows. As his body liquefied from every sound-shrouded strike.


    But the Vicar didn¡¯t even budge from my attack, now. I had barely an instant of terrifying understanding¨Can instant the vicar allowed¨Cbefore he finally struck back.


    It was only through the instincts of my assimilated Beast Will and Aurora¡¯s guiding touch that I avoided the next attack. Beads of green, oozing pus flashed into existence all around us, barely visible in the darkness.


    I need to move! I thought with rising fear as the energy grew in the atmosphere in the blink of an eye. I was primed to be at the center of a storm. I need to get away! Back into the trees!


    Mardeth cackled as he shut his hand, like the jaws of a rabid dog cinching around a throat. I blurred upward for all I was worth as I engaged a mindfire stamp, my legs cracking and bleeding from the absurd pushback.


    I blurred back toward the trees¨Cjust as a veritable storm of rot imploded around Mardeth himself. Nearly every single tree was coated in splattering dots of sizzling acid, and no few splatters tore through me as I landed on a faraway branch.


    My legs ached and they were slow to heal, my mind struggling to process the death knell I¡¯d barely escaped.


    But the Vicar of Plague gave me no time to wait. No time to catch my breath and heal my limbs. In the blink of an eye, he was nearly in front of me again, moving at speeds leagues above where he¡¯d been at the start of this battle.


    In a panic, I whipped around the tree, my breathing heavy and strained as I tried to think of what I should do next. The echoing boom of Mardeth¡¯s laughter violated my ears as I ran. The wind quickly swept away the sweat that beaded on my brow as I rocketed off a bough. Mardeth was getting faster every moment we clashed. Stronger with every blow he leveraged.


    ¡°I¡¯m no hypocrite, little mage!¡± Mardeth crooned after me. A long trail of powerful green mana still seeped into his horn. Clearly, the absorption didn¡¯t have a distance limit I could rely on to try and snap that tether. It didn¡¯t seem to care about distance. ¡°They all failed to grow under their strength. But you¡­¡±


    Naereni, I thought desperately, I hope you destroy that damn crystal soon! As quickly as you goddamn can!


    I was weaker than Mardeth before this fight began, and the longer it went on, he only grew more powerful. I couldn¡¯t even hurt him now. Not anymore. But I was still faster. More maneuverable. I only needed to keep him occupied, but¨C


    Aurora suddenly yelled something in my mind, but it was overwhelmed by a sense of pain as I was clotheslined by Mardeth¡¯s elongating mace. It had appeared out of nowhere, waiting like a garotte to tear out my soul. I flipped through the air, my blood spraying as an ugly gash was wrought along my chest. Chunks of my flesh tore themselves free as I tumbled, crying out in sudden pain.


    I failed to make the next jump. My body clipped a tree, my momentum splattering it with my blood as I tumbled out of the forest.


    I rolled for a few yards along the road where I¡¯d emerged before I came to a stop, blood pooling under my body. I rested on my forearms as I coughed weakly, feeling the bones in my chest creak. Pain blurred my vision as I spotted little simmering specks of my heartfire in the bits of skin and muscle that clung to my tattered shirt.


    Toren, Aurora said softly, her melodic voice pulling me from the pain. Look up.


    My heartfire was already working to heal over the deadly wound, but the shock had made my mind hazy. I coughed, clutching Oath, which I had somehow maintained a firm grip on. I blinked as I looked at the blade, only now realizing the damage it had taken in my clashes with the vicar.


    I looked up.


    Dozens of men and women stared at me in horror, backing away as my blood dripped onto the cobblestones. Children cried into the mute stillness of the night as mothers wept soft prayers to the Sovereigns. Fathers tried to put themselves in front of their families, but their knees shook and their bodies trembled.


    Most of them didn¡¯t have a discernible intent, but those that did choked my nose with fear. Their terror seeped over me like a tide of putrid water, threatening to draw me into the fear as well.


    East Fiachrans, I thought, recognizing more than a few faces. And¡­ and the mages of the North District, too. What are they¨C


    ¡°You were like me, little mage,¡± a putrid voice said from behind me. ¡°A man of power and true talent born among lessers, condemned to share your food with those unfit to breathe the same air. Unfit to walk in your step. And undeserving of the slightest bit of your attention,¡± Mardeth said, stressing the last word with his slippery annunciation. ¡°But when I saw you helping them? Interacting with them? I grew angry, little mage. You waste your precious time and attention on these lessers. So I decided to teach you a lesson about why they are a burden.¡±


    My fists clenched around the dirt at my feet, but I didn¡¯t move even as my chest finally healed over. I locked eyes with Benny in the crowd, held tightly by his mother. I felt a spike of true fear as I finally realized what I was looking at. That terror¨Cseparate from that in the intent, yet the same¨Cfinally threaded through my bones.


    I¡¯d just led Mardeth straight to these people, I realized in horror. I¡¯d taken him away from the estate, but¡­


    ¡°And I couldn¡¯t have gotten so far without you, little mage,¡± Mardeth sneered from behind me. ¡°Only through experimentation on nonmage scum was I able to finally perfect my serum. Create a true plague.¡±


    Benny ripped himself free from his mother, running toward me with tears in his eyes. He stumbled a few times as his mother called after him in raw pain, the other people around her holding her back.


    The boy with missing fingers ran up to me where I lay on the ground, seeming uncaring of the devil I knew hovered not far behind me.


    ¡°You can¡¯t give up,¡± he said, pulling at my arms. ¡°Momma said that you would be here. She said you¡¯d get rid of the vicars again! And you need to!¡±


    ¡°This is why you are on your hands and knees, and I am on the brink of godhood,¡± Mardeth hissed. ¡°Because you threw your lot in with these lessers, and I took what I needed from their cold, dead hands. It¡¯s fitting that you¡¯ll die among them. A wolf who decided to be a sheep.¡±


    I slowly stood, wiping away a stream of blood from my lips. Mardeth hovered above the trees behind me, an expression of loathing on his face. I settled my stance, shifting Benny behind me. I ruffled his hair as I put myself between him and the horrid vicar.


    You know what we need to do, I thought to my bond.


    I do, Aurora acknowledged, a serious note in her tone. Too long have I stalled. Too long have I feared what may become of our minds. I felt her attention turn to Benny, who shivered behind my leg. But no longer.


    The grafted horn on the vicar¡¯s forehead glowed an ominous light as he focused his power, a green shine meshing with the darkness of the night sky. I looked down at Oath in my hands, my eyes roaming over the damascus-patterned red steel. In the short time I¡¯d clashed with Mardeth, the length had been riddled with slight chips and cracks. I exhaled, putting that out of my mind as I closed my eyes.


    I felt my body relax as I looked deep into my core. Deeper than I¡¯d ever delved before; deeper than the nexus of a star. I sensed more than saw Mardeth pointing a hand toward me, my eyes closed in concentration as he slowly gathered mana for a massive spell.


    The men and women cowering behind me shied away as Mardeth prepared his attack. That terror surged as people tried to push their way down the street and away from the gathering spell. I felt their heartbeats in my ears like a stampede of drumbeats, but they wouldn¡¯t make it in time. The concentration of Mardeth¡¯s spell was even greater than the one I¡¯d popped at the start of this fight.


    I pulled my Phoenix Will to the edges of my mind, its touch warm and inviting. I felt the yawning depths beneath, like the bright expanse of a star eclipsing my mind. One could get lost in there so easily; burnt away like a speck of dust.


    I embraced the Will, its tendrils sinking further into my thoughts. Until I couldn¡¯t tell where I started and the Will stopped. Until she sank into me as well, thoughts and emotions and experience and knowledge and power all mixing into one turbulent dot. I felt the sudden weight of millennia melding with a careful few decades, one far outweighing the other.


    Mardeth threw his spell. People screamed as they tried to run, believing an inevitable doom in front of them. Benny clutched at our pant leg, whimpering in fear. We could hear the distant wails of his mother.


    I opened my eyes, a world dampened by Unseen mist and shadow sprawling before me. The lessuran hovering in the sky beyond grinned with the arrogant surety of a predator who had ensnared its prey; of a hawk who had cinched a rabbit.


    My lips melded into a solid line as anger replaced my fear. A ten-foot-tall tide of acidic rot streamed along the street like a river, a grim mockery of the canals that I called home.


    I inhaled, then swung my sword in a simple sideways cut. White fire erupted from the edge, growing and growing and growing as it used my anger as fuel. It burned away the ground with its absurd heat as it approached the opposing decaying spell. Gleaming starfire roared with its own tide, the ambient mana lurching and swelling in turn.


    The two clashed, fire and plague intertwining like a dance of predator and prey. I snorted as the lessuran began to vaguely recognize something was wrong, his intent twisting as he attempted to exert more pressure through his spell. I simply pushed my hand forward, exerting a fraction more to overpower his pathetic willpower.


    Flame devoured the plague, cleansing it in holy fire. I allowed my spell to vanish as Mardeth watched me in disbelief, white embers rising into the sky like blessed fireflies as my spell slowly sizzled back into the ambient mana.


    My eyes burned with the heat of a star, and my hair slowly changed to a brilliant red as it shifted in an Unseen breeze. The feather stems underneath my eyes had grown as I fell deeper into our Will, expanding to embody small wings. Glowing orange runes that mimicked feathers ran along my arms, torso, and legs, my red chain tattoo seeming to shift and spin around those bright feathered weaves.


    A smattering of something approaching fear stretched across Mardeth¡¯s face as my intent concentrated around him. As I felt the nigh bottomless well of insight flooding through my mind, I knew the tide of this battle had changed. No more was I a broken soul.


    ¡°You can¡¯t hear their heartbeats,¡± I said, my voice echoing out into the stillness. It was cool and melodic, with an almost soothing cadence to each syllable. ¡°But I can feel yours. Sense everything you¡¯ve ever known.¡±


    I could see more in Mardeth¡¯s heartfire than I ever could before. His eyes squinted as they tried to meet mine, a deep uncertainty wafting from his crooked form. ¡°Stare into the sun, lessuran. Gaze upon infinity, and feel it burn.¡±

 Chapter 146: Soulplume

    Toren Daen


    After escaping from Mardeth along the Redwater, I¡¯d asked my bond why she¡¯d put her foot down regarding the Second Phase of my Phoenix Will. My core was more refined than Arthur¡¯s was when he had first trained with Realmheart, and though I certainly drew more direct insight from the depths of my will than Arthur did, Lady Dawn was there to ease the burden. My control of my Acquire Phase was impeccable; honed over the course of many months. What stopped me from delving deeper?


    Aurora had explained to me that I was not the problem. It was her.


    My mind grew closer with my bond¡¯s when I used my First Phase, and while comfortingly intimate and beyond useful for calming my mind during a fast-paced battle, we were still distinct. I knew who I was, and my bond knew herself in turn.


    Yet as the Integrate Phase of my Phoenix Will washed out from my core, it became difficult to distinguish where Lady Dawn started and Toren ended. My bond¡¯s experiences outnumbered my own by a factor of a thousand thousands. She¡¯d forgotten more than I would ever learn, and as that vastness encroached on my sense of self, I found myself being overwhelmed.


    Even as I stared Mardeth down, the iron grip I kept on my own psyche was a greater strain than any other. Aurora¡¯s sentiments and emotions still bled over somewhat, accounting for the sense of arrogant disdain I felt for the vicar flying in the air. I realized that it was not my body that would give first under the effect of my Will.


    It would be my mind.


    I knelt to look Benny in the eye, whose trembling gradually ceased as he realized he was not drowning in a tide of Vritra acid. He looked up at me, his eyes impossibly wide as they took in my appearance.


    The only things not darkened to my sight were the lingering spells that still burned through mana, alongside the churning heartfires all around. With my further enhanced sense of lifeforce, I could trace the path of Benny¡¯s veins through his body, a simmering stream of aetheric energy coursing along his blood.


    ¡°Are you an angel?¡± he asked, my burning eyes reflected in his own. They seared just like Aurora¡¯s phantom. In place of flesh, twin stars pulsed rhythmically.


    ¡°No,¡± I said softly, allowing myself to smile at the boy¡¯s question. ¡°Go to your mother, Benny,¡± I said, brushing off a few chips of debris from his shoulder. ¡°And have the rest of the refugees run while they can.¡±


    The boy opened his mouth, seeming just about ready to burst with a flurry of questions, but I stood, facing Mardeth¡¯s uncertain form. The entire world was blanketed in a misty haze from my perspective, the same darkening of my sight taking place as when I saw Lady Dawn¡¯s phantom form.


    Benny scurried back to his mother. I could feel the sense of awe¨Cand no little terror¨Ccoursing through the crowd behind me, but once the young boy reached them, it seemed to light a match. Legs remembered to move as bodies surged to run, a tide of people moving in the opposite direction.


    As they ran muttering prayers to the High Sovereign, Mardeth''s anger returned in full force.


    ¡°You think I¡¯ll let them go?¡± Mardeth sneered, pushing past his uncertainty. ¡°You are naive as ever, little mage,¡± he said, conjuring a dozen concentrated spheres of sickly green sludge. The spells hurtled toward the retreating civilians with a hiss. As they got close, each one popped open like a pimple, spraying even more of that caustic acid in a rain toward the retreating men and women.


    Oath hovered by my ear as I pressed outward with my mana, summoning a wall of solid white fire behind me. I was backlit by the burning inferno, my stance cool and impassive.


    And then Mardeth¡¯s spell slammed into my wall of white fire. A dozen petty raindrops pelted my stalwart protections, but they found no purchase. Holy fire gave the putrid lessuran filth no quarter. Only merciful cleansing.


    When it was done, there was nothing left of Mardeth¡¯s spell. The tongues of white fire sizzled behind me as they waited at their master¡¯s call.


    Mardeth''s expression shifted to one of shock.


    I clenched my fist, and the wall of fire concentrated into a single point. A singularity of compressed mana that wished to rage with the force of a nascent star.


    A supernova must expand, I thought evenly. It cannot bear being caged. It will not allow itself to be leashed by petty gravity.


    Then I let the singularity of fire burst forward, a nimbus of white flame searing toward the vicar. He lurched to the side haphazardly, barely avoiding the arc of power. It blazed through the forest behind him, outlining the boughs of trees momentarily before they were utterly burned, not even ash left in the flickering wake.


    I gradually rose into the air, a dozen psychokinetic pushes on the ground serving to make me float. I rose higher and higher, feeling a deep dissatisfaction with the state of my body. I could not fly. That may have been the greatest indignity I¡¯d yet faced in this new world. That the lessuran of basilisk blood could fly, and yet I¨Cwith the blood of Asclepius flowing through my veins¨Ccould not.


    ¡°The sky is not your domain, lessuran,¡± I said, my face a cool, impassive mask. I waved my hand, lashing out with my telekinetic emblem. ¡°It is ours.¡±


    A bead of white flared around Mardeth¡¯s leg as my spell engaged. His automatic putrid defenses tried to wither the telekinesis away, yet with another force of will, I coated it in white fire. The spell resisted long enough for me to pull my hand down, the vicar barely seeming aware of what was happening due to the sheer speed.


    Mardeth shot toward the ground like a green comet, yelling in rage as he was forcefully dragged from the sky. The trespasser in our domain bounced off the ground hard, a sickening crack echoing out as his body cratered the street.


    ¡°This is better,¡± I breathed, floating over. ¡°The petty basilisk mocks what it takes to truly soar. Your kind writhes and twists on the ground, sprouting false wings to sully the sky above with your rot. Your bitter envy taints the freedom of the air.¡± I cocked my head. ¡°Too long have you ignored this truth, Vicar of Plague. You will stay there, entrenched in the dirt. It is where you belong.¡±


    Mardeth yelled in anger, surging upward as his bones reknit themselves and his skin sealed over. He dared to sully the sky once more with his putrid blood.


    He would learn.


    I raised a hand, coalescing a handful of plasmashot along my palms. The white beads¨Ceach burning with the heat of a star¨Celongated into the shape of feathers. Then they shot forward, passing through the vicar¡¯s plague-like defenses without resistance. A dozen burning holes opened along Mardeth¡¯s twisted body, but the man didn¡¯t stop, blurring toward me with abandon.


    His tenacity is admirable, I thought. Or was it Aurora who was thinking this? For one so outmatched. He does not falter in the face of pain. It is a shame that such a virtue is tethered to one so full of vice. But we will not suffer prey to claim the mantle of predator.


    Under a bare tense of my power, chunks of rock blurred in from the side, cracking into Mardeth. They stayed there, one after the other, as I gradually pulled on the rubble in the destroyed street. The vicar¡¯s body was gradually encased in rock, even as he continued to approach. His mace flashed as he tried to smash the pressing rocks around him, but a well-aimed feather of plasma swatted it to the side. He thrust his hand out as he finally neared me in the air, nearly entirely entombed in a sphere of stone.


    A living corpse, finally knowing the kiss of the grave. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I saw his hateful eyes as a final bit of stone finally settled over his face. I could feel his mana trying to rip apart the earth around him as he hovered, but the strength with which I held my telekinesis was undeniable. My mana would not be decayed by such weak basilisk arts.


    His fingers stopped an inch from my face, the nails obscenely long and poised to spear my eyes.


    I held a palm impassively against the rock sphere, seeing the disjointed rhythm of Mardeth¡¯s heartfire within. Black veins spread across a body trapped by tons of telekinetically leveraged stone. For the first time, I felt the vicar¡¯s heartfire pulse in an accelerated rhythm.


    One of fear.


    ¡°You wanted an Indrath to your Vritra, vicar,¡± I said in a monotone that was somehow melodic. ¡°But the doom you have brought upon yourself is not that of the dragons. Kezess cares not for the people of his kingdom. But we are not Kezess Indrath. We are not of the dragon.¡±


    Burning energy built along my palm, white-hot plasma compressing itself over and over as we banished the night; as we ripped apart the veil of shadows that encroached upon our home. The rock began to melt as I stared deep into Mardeth¡¯s blackened heartfire. My eyes brightened.


    ¡°We are the envy of the low as they see what they were denied,¡± I said calmly, my voice echoing. ¡°We are the joy of community around a fire. We are the sorrow of every brother as their siblings succumb to the cruelties of the world. We are the hate of the powerless as plague subsumes their souls. We are the love of a mother for her children. We are every quiet cry of the people of this land, their tongues cut from their throats and their bodies broken from your cruelty. We are the emotions of all those who can never feel. We sing to the sky because their gods will not let them.¡±


    With every word uttered, the fire in my palm burned hotter. The runes on my hands glowed brighter. My words echoed louder and louder as my calm voice became crashing thunder, and the thrum of my magic condensed further. I felt Mardeth thrash, his intent bleeding with wretched terror.


    ¡°We are the sun, vicar, and you will never stop those beneath us from feeling the light and warmth of a new day.¡±


    I let loose. A beam of searing starfire passed through the rock without resistance, through the vicar inside, and out into the trees beyond. A hole burned through several trees beyond before my mana finally dissipated into the night. Trees cracked and fell with the sound of splintering wood.


    I could see a path straight through the earth, every wound I¡¯d inflicted immediately cauterized. No blood dripped from Mardeth¡¯s wound, the wretched flesh instantly cauterized.


    I snorted with disdain, then concentrated on the telekinetic emblem across my back. I allowed the power to build¨Cjust for a time. Mardeth''s lifeforce was weakening, but he still trespassed in the sky. I would not sully the air with his life¡¯s blood. He would not bear the honor of dying in our domain.


    A flare of white built overtop the compressed mass of stone and flesh. Mana churned angrily as I kept it leashed by power of will, a hurricane roaring to be unleashed. Demanding that I give it freedom.


    I obliged.


    A focused stream of telekinetic force slammed into the ball of stone that bore my prey. The sphere shattered into a million pieces as it was pounded by undue force, a hurricane-gale wind sending the rubble and the wretch within down toward the ground.


    To an outside observer, it must have appeared as if the very sky itself swatted the vicar from the air with a hammer blow. The weight of a city¡¯s worth of sins compressed in and through Mardeth¡¯s coffin as he was cast to the earth.


    The sound of shattering stone echoed out as a ton of rubble hit the ground in a resounding crash that made the very earth shudder. A crater the size of a house opened in the streets as it was struck by a cannonball. Dust and debris darted among shattered homes and broken canals, searching for any escape from the coming carnage.


    I slowly lowered myself down toward where Mardeth¡¯s lifeforce still weakly pulsed. He wasn¡¯t moving, too much mana expended in his assault on me and those I was bound to protect.


    I exhaled a bit of fiery steam as I stepped forward, slowly walking down the slope of the crater. My hands were clasped behind my back with regal poise as the sound of my shoes on broken earth echoed out.


    And finally, I reached the pile of rubble.


    I pulled on the mana in my core¨Calready draining at an extremely fast rate¨Cand coalesced energy around my hand. My left forearm was encased in vibrating sound, a humming too low to be audible to mortal ears buzzing into the atmosphere. I straightened my hand into the shape of a knife, feathered orange runes glowing along my fingers. Then I thrust them down into the rubble, the vibrating barrier allowing my strengthened limb to shear through everything it touched.


    My hand pierced flesh. I allowed the shroud along my hand to dissipate as I curled my fingers upward, feeling the squelch of putrid muscle as my fingers wrapped around bone. I pulled up, wrenching Mardeth¡¯s body from the stones.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    I held the man by his clavicle, my hand embedded into his chest. His body¨Calready decrepit and disgusting, even by the standards of a lessuran¨Clooked like it had been thrown into a wildfire, then dropped into the rolling fields of the Cerulean Savannah in the ancestral home of the Thyestes Clan. The holes that riddled Mardeth¡¯s form could just have easily been caused by the sentient blue-green blades of the asura-slaying grass of Epheotus. The only clue that they had not were the blackened edges and lack of blood, each wound burned beyond recognition.


    His horn, though¨CBrahmos¡¯ horn¨Cstill glowed under the light of the mana that transferred to him from the far-distant basilisk blood crystal. His wounds were already beginning to heal ever-so-slowly. His eyes were glazed over, and his face was locked in a rictus grin even as his aura trembled.


    Oath returned to my hand, the entire weapon degraded and damaged from the furious combat I¡¯d put it through. The once-perfect edge was now dulled and littered with cracks, but the swept-hilt saber only needed to fulfill one more mission. To finish its namesake.


    ¡°Their hearts beat in defiance of you,¡± I said, my voice pulsing in tune with my heartfire. ¡°All at once, vicar. They deny you. Deny you through us.¡±


    I raised Oath up to my left ear, funneling an absurd amount of mana along the blade. The red edge erupted into burning white plasma, but I could feel the structure breaking down under the effect of my spell. My sights locked on that onyx horn that the vicar had grafted onto his forehead.


    ¡°This is what I was waiting for,¡± Mardeth muttered through bloody lips. ¡°This fire in your veins¡­ The pain you cause¡­¡±


    I ignored the pathetic vicar¡¯s dying words. They were worth no more than the sand under my boot. ¡°May your soul be scattered to the wind,¡± I muttered, slashing at Mardeth¡¯s neck with the humming white blade.


    Then my instincts screamed at me. I barely registered as Brahmos¡¯ horn erupted with a torrent of mana, a beam of brilliant green shooting from it and toward my head. The amount of energy condensed into it was absurd; compressed in a way only possible through a basilisk¡¯s horn.


    I was forced to divert my plasma-laden cut, instead pulling the saber in front of my face and bracing the back of the blade with my other hand as I ripped my fingers free of Mardeth¡¯s collar. The green beam of pure mana was split in two as it impacted Oath, the twin halves shearing through the buildings nearby. Everywhere it touched seemed to melt, the structures drooping and buildings collapsing. I inhaled a bit of greenish mist from the atmosphere as I skidded back, my feet digging furrows into the cobbles as I was pressed from the crater.


    My heartfire began working feverishly to heal me as it battled against the caustic mana in my lungs, but the pain was surprisingly potent. I snarled as I was forced to the back of the alley, the energy finally relenting.


    As the white plasma finally simmered away from my blade, I looked down in disappointment. The red metal drooped, sloughing to the ground as it finally gave way. Not from the caustic acidic attack I¡¯d just deflected, but the searing heat of my own plasma. I was left with Oath¡¯s empty handle and a feeling of loss.


    That sense of loss was from Toren. It helped ground me more; helped separate where Toren started and Aurora ended.


    I looked up, feeling a spark of anger as I looked at Mardeth as he gradually rose back into the sky. As he trespassed once more. That anger was shared by both Toren and Aurora¨Cboth of them hated him.


    Except the green beam of energy hadn¡¯t dissipated. No, it had simply changed direction. Instead of being aimed at me, Mardeth seemed to be absorbing the energy from the horn in waves, his body changing and growing larger as he did so. His skin darkened from mute gray to a sickly green as his body filled out, growing in size twice over. The horn on his head glowed brighter as the monstrous transformation took place, Mardeth¡¯s robes suddenly tight on his body. His eyes bulged as he screamed in pain, tendrils of caustic mana lashing out at everything nearby. I was forced to dodge and weave around each strike, the force behind them absurd.


    But what made my eyes widen in alarm was how his heartfire changed. It became more and more indistinct, the disjointed tone seeming to shift in a fluid-like way. I could see the veins where his blood used to be simmering away and vanishing. It was as if underneath his twisted exterior, all semblance of humanity evaporated as that sickly mana spread throughout his body.


    Mardeth¡¯s screams of pain intermingled with laughs as his body writhed in odd places, something squirming underneath the surface. Parts of his robes were shredded under the strain, revealing a torso littered with deep, ugly marks. All over his body, different grafts of skin revealed themselves, stitching scars like wretched mouths covering every bit of his thin, wiry form. His skin bulged intermittently as if something was trying to rip its way out. The twisted vicar grunted in pain with each throbbing expansion.


    Mardeth twisted in the air, turning to look at me as the transformation completed. Dark power surged out of him in waves, kicking up dust and making the night seem even blacker.


    ¡°Little mage,¡± he said, his voice now an octave lower but just as greasy. ¡°I am going to fill your corpse with all the blithe in the world. You have given me so much pain. It is only just that I return it with pleasure.¡±


    I held out a hand as I locked eyes with Mardeth, listening to the thrum of my own heartfire. Slowly, my personal aether¨Ctinted the color of a waxing dawn¨Cpushed through the handle of Oath in my hand. The threads¨Cno, veins¨Cof heartfire elongated into a long wire.


    I¡¯d worked for a long time to understand what the threads of heartfire were that coursed between Aurora¡¯s relic and her soul. Further inspection of Sevren¡¯s melding with the Relictombs over the past weeks had granted me even deeper insights into the intricacies of lifeforce.


    But it was only as I witnessed the veins of soultethered aether thrumming through the arteries of every single person not sixty seconds ago¨Cunadorned and not¨Cthat I¡¯d finally gained enough insight to try this. The way the aether flowed in rolling pulses; how it arced back toward the heart when it was done. How it carried notes of a person¡¯s intent in the way it flickered and shined.


    Over my summoned vein of heartfire grew a crystalline coating of interlocking mana, my telekinetic shroud extending over the highway of energy. I could only summon my telekinetic shroud over my body, but heartfire was the deepest expression of the flesh. Orange and purple light shimmered as it was refracted by the flashing weaves of pure mana that made up the shroud, a familiar single-edged shape coalescing. Mardeth watched with glee, a rictus smile on his demented face.


    And finally, white plasma threaded overtop, forming the third and final layer of my summoned sword blade. It hummed deeply as I flourished it, carving a divot into the ground without resistance. Unlike Oath¡¯s old blade, my telekinetic shroud would stand the heat of my plasma.


    Outwardly, I kept my face a stoic mask of indifference. My hair, altered to a brilliant, fiery red under the effect of my Will¨Cblew in a breeze no others could feel. ¡°You continue to prattle about pain and all it brings you,¡± I said with a sneer, ¡°But for all you claim to feel pain, I see none in your actions.¡°


    Mardeth chuckled, a sound like ooze spreading along stone. His body appeared to be healed, the holes I¡¯d opened in his wretched form sealed over. But there was something deeply wrong with his lifeforce that made me uneasy. ¡°Did you not engage in that form of yours to escape the pain, little mage?¡± he mocked.


    I blurred forward in a burst of white fire and telekinesis. Mardeth''s mace whipped toward me, trying to wrap around my arm as he surged forward in turn. My white plasma blade flashed three times, severing the flail-like contraption before I swiped at the vicar¡¯s torso.


    My blade of pure plasma hummed as it neatly bisected the vicar, shearing through¡­ Through liquid. Bits of green steam trailed in the wake of my cut instead of blood.


    The inside of Mardeth¡¯s body roiled with green mana as his two halves snapped back into place after my blade passed through. His fist lashed out, the appendage bulging unnaturally as it approached my face. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block the attack, but that¡¯s when his strike changed.


    The fist hit my forearm squarely, but instead of an impact, his entire arm expanded to the size of a tree as it became liquid, seeking to encase me in the filth. The bare moonlight was eclipsed as Mardeth¡¯s limb enlarged around me in a ghastly curtain, attempting to ensorcell me entirely in caustic acid. I might have panicked were I Toren alone, but Aurora¡¯s presence in my mind forced an almost clinical calm over my thoughts. I pressed outward with an unfocused nimbus of white fire, burning away tendrils of green sludge as I backpedaled away from the acid.


    Everywhere I burned, the acid turned to a sickly mist that clung to me. It ate away at my telekinetic shroud relentlessly, scouring away my clothes and flesh. I grunted as my heartfire fought to heal me, erasing the touch of Mardeth¡¯s taint.


    ¡°You would have gladly run from me forever had I not threatened those so close to you,¡± a voice whispered into the air. Mardeth was nowhere to be seen as I emerged back into the street, a misty green haze blanketing everything around.


    I formed a full-body shroud of white fire, the absurd heat protecting me from the seeping green mist. I watched as the paint on the nearby buildings withered away under the effects of the fog. My sight was obscured by layers of green as Mardeth¡¯s heartfire somehow echoed all around me, a distorted cacophony of drumbeats that served to heighten my own.


    I flexed my mana, feeling a deep ache in my core as I pushed outward with an unfocused nimbus of white fire and oscillating sound. The two elements swirled around me in a mix of refracting light, an expanding vortex of heat and vibrations ripping the hazy mist apart at the seams.


    I ground my teeth as the haze evaporated, leaving Mardeth¡¯s heartfire focused and clear. He was flying away from me, laughing all the while.


    I bent my knees, feeling a distant panic as I realized what he was aiming for. Toren¡¯s panic. I blurred into the sky after the vicar, appearing in front of him in a flash of heat. A fist coated in fire seared straight through his chest, but all that I found inside was more ooze. It attacked the spell around my hand, breaking it down and eating into my flesh. It seemed Mardeth¡¯s entire body was made of just acid.


    ¡°I wonder what will happen,¡± Mardeth said, leaning close to my face as we hovered in the sky, ¡°If I put you through even greater pain?¡±


    A torrent of green acid erupted from Mardeth¡¯s chest, pushing me back diagonally toward the ground. I grunted in pain as I smashed through three buildings, finally managing to thrust a hand forward and concentrate a pushing telekinetic force in front of me. The beam of putrid power veered off to the side, searing a hole through another home and leaving my sight.


    Toren¡¯s panic surged again as Mardeth blurred toward a pocket of retreating refugees, the vicar¡¯s tendrils of mana lashing out.


    I rushed to intercept, but I was too slow. I snarled as he reached them first, his casual attack melting down their bones in instants. I felt as if this should remind me of something. Of a forest, and skittering limbs. Of failing to protect someone, but the sensation vanished as I focused on my foe.


    Mardeth cackled above as he began to shoot up into the sky, his mana inexhaustible. Massive tendrils of acid erupted from his back, each large enough to blot out the starlight above. They swirled in complex patterns, whipping this way and that as the vicar surged into the sky.


    I jumped upward, my feet landing solidly on top of a liquid tentacle as thick as a tractor-trailer. I ran along the tendril, slowly making my way closer to the vicar. The massive tentacles thrashed and flailed around with a life of their own, making it nearly impossible to continue my forward trek. Caustic fumes laced the air as I skated on soles of white fire and pulling telekinetic force. I was turned upside down, whipped to the side, and jerked every which way as the appendage writhed in the air, but I didn¡¯t let that deter me.


    I climbed higher and higher into the sky as Mardeth himself ascended, Fiachra growing smaller beneath us as the night sky welcomed us into its embrace. I zipped and weaved as I followed a twisting path of caustic mana like a staircase. The fires that were burning all over the city seemed incomprehensibly small from this far up, each a flickering dot of red amidst rolling canals. I could see large specks of green and red, the blithe spread having blanketed nearly a quarter of Fiachra as a whole.


    The sky was ours. It was the domain of the Asclepius, and it welcomed its master with open arms. The delicate dance of hunting my prey was more than natural as I gradually sought my enemy¡¯s throat.


    I jumped from one tendril to another as they swelled around me, narrowly avoiding the surface of a tendril exploding like a cyst. The wind kissed my face in a familiar sensation as I twisted midair, landing feetfirst onto the next appendage and resuming my blurring path of white fire. Even as I fought for my life, I felt a sort of unleashed exhilaration as I darted from tendril to tendril, running and skating in an ever-ascending pathway. I was so, so close to flight. So close to true freedom. No more was I stuck in a deep, dark cell, lashed to a cage wall and doomed to never escape.


    I snapped out with my white plasma saber as balls of sludge approached me, cutting through them in a flurry. Mardeth saw me getting closer, Brahmos¡¯ horn on his forehead glinting. Some of the flesh on his arm separated, then shot toward me in a gyrating spiral. The fleshy green spells bulged, expanding in odd places as they filled up like a clenched balloon.


    I concentrated on the elements I could call to me, ignoring the ache in my core. It was weak by my standards, my usual strength of ages past long gone. But I would have to make do.


    Feathers of solid sound coalesced between the ochre feather stem glyphs of my fingers, a spark of white fire erupting in the center of each plume. I threw them like knives, allowing them to twirl and hone individually as they sought Mardeth¡¯s flesh spells like comets.


    All at once, my vibrating feathers punctured the soft exterior of Mardeth¡¯s spells. Before his attack could explode on its own, the condensed fire inside of my spell detonated, ripping them apart in a conflagration of heat.


    I surged through the glittering aftereffects of our clashing spells, green specks spinning around embers of white. The moonlight flashed through my saber as it flared, Oath¡¯s handle glinting as I funneled heartfire and mana through it in an even pulse.


    Mardeth welcomed me with open arms as I neared, seeming to trust in his invincibility and my inability to physically harm him.


    ¡°This is what they are to us,¡± Mardeth said, gesturing to the city far above as I edged closer. ¡°Below us in every way! Yet you continue to fight for their sorry existences!¡±


    ¡°Your kind talk and talk, test and test, always seeking scientific enlightenment. Yet you always forget to feel,¡± I retorted, pirouetting around a lashing swipe of acid. ¡°And that is why you shall never feel satisfied, Vicar of Plague. That is why you will die unfulfilled¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to cut through Mardeth¡¯s body. By absorbing the energy condensed in Brahmos¡¯ horn, he¡¯d managed to turn his entire body into decay-based acid. His appearance as a lessuran was only a twisted facade. No part of him was truly solid.


    None except for the horn.


    Yet as Mardeth met my burning eyes, he must have sensed something was wrong. I swung my saber, the humming blade shearing toward the vicar¡¯s head.


    He tried to fly back desperately, finally seeing where I aimed by edge, but a telekinetic pull on his back only served to yank him into the cut. He yelled in anger, while I maintained my stoic features in the face of the end of this confrontation.


    Then Mardeth did something that baffled even me. One of his tendrils cracked against his spine, a shattering sound rippling out as his body bent unnaturally far back. My saber sheared just past the base of Brahmos¡¯ horn; my target barely missed.


    Mardeth''s back lurched back into place with another sickening crack, his face a mask of fury. His fist crashed against my face. My vision flashed as indescribable force rocked my body, my telekinetic shroud melting away from the acid coating his knuckles. I rocketed off to the side, my body shooting off into the night. My consciousness blanked for the barest moment as the bones in my jaw struggled to heal under the effect of my heartfire.


    I lurched to a halt with a grunt as something latched onto my leg. I blinked, blood leaking from the edge of my lips as I looked at where one of Mardeth¡¯s tentacles wrapped around my ankle. Instinctively, I tried to cut through it with my saber, but then the vicar cocked his hand back. I saw the bitter hatred on his transformed face as he twisted his arm in a full rotation, the tendril following suit.


    I can¡¯t let myself be flung from him, I thought with a note of consternation. I can¡¯t fly. I can¡¯t fly!


    I was spun around, only kept in place by my leg. I barely had time to take in my situation before the tendril reached the bottom of its rotation, flinging me down with a crack. I felt my leg wrench out of its socket as the tendril hurled me toward Fiachra far below, the ground rushing to meet me.


    Like a bird cast from the nest, I fell with broken wings.

 Chapter 147: What Flows Through Ones Blood

    Chapter 147: What Flows Through One¡¯s Blood


    Naereni


    I took a step forward, not fully registering the pain that lanced through my calf and up my leg. The darkness of the basement was barely combatted by the distant glow of the basilisk blood crystal.


    ¡°Come on, twitter-fingers,¡± Caera said, heaving for breath as she helped me move forward. My legs felt like lead as we continued, each step taken with less than half a mind. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to just lay down and die. We¡¯re going to¡­ to destroy that crystal.¡±


    Karsien had pushed me into the hole where the crystal had fallen, and Hofal had sealed the opening over after me. They were still up there, fighting against the vicars that surged toward us like a demented hive. My core throbbed from my near brush with backlash, pain threading through each of my mana channels. But that was nothing compared to the wrenching ache in my heart.


    Up ahead, Sevren stumbled before getting his balance back under him. ¡°Only a little bit further,¡± he coughed. The air was damp and cloying, each breath trying to strangle me with its weight.


    My ice-splinted foot caught on a rock, causing me to stumble forward. Caera, tired as she was, failed to catch me in time. I hit the stones, splaying out as I scraped my forearms with barely a grunt. I pulled myself to my hands and knees, staring at the stone as more tears blurred the edges of my vision.


    They were going to die. Die alone fighting those horrible, demented vicars.


    Something threaded under each of my arms, hauling me to my feet. I hazily noted that Sevren had backtracked, helping his sister as they both worked to haul me forward. The Denoir highblood braced my left side, his face¨Csmeared with both dirt and blood¨Cset into a grim mask of determination. Caera¡¯s was much the same, and for the first time, I thought they looked alike. Though their physical features couldn¡¯t be more different, the fire that burned in their hearts had the same kindling flare.


    It made me feel all the more small. Useless. A street rat, undeserving of my magic and friends.


    But the world was slowly reaping its due, putting me back in my place. My family was already being taken from me above. I could just barely feel the clash of magic far above, my crew fighting to their last just to give us more time.


    Then something in the air changed. A pulse seemed to flood through the cavern like a hammer to the chest, a sense of power reaching us even in the dark basements of the Joan estate. Simultaneously a roaring, raging bonfire, and a soothing hearth that rumbled like a heartbeat. I shuddered as it washed over me, my weakness made all the more prevalent. Caera stuttered in her step, wide ruby eyes turning to peer back whence we came in utter shock.


    ¡°Is that¡­ is that Toren?¡± she muttered, her bangs covering one eye. ¡°Merciful Vritra, what in all the hells is he? I can sense his aura from here! Like a fire burning against my skin!¡±


    ¡°Keep moving,¡± Sevren admonished, seeming unphased by the shift in the air. ¡°We still have a job to do. Feel free to ask my friend any questions when we¡¯re done.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± Caera said, turning back toward the glowing crystal not far ahead.


    The crystal had tumbled into a large room. From the flaming scorch marks and blackened furniture all around, I suspected this was the place where the distillery used to be.


    Before Karsien had blown it to smithereens.


    There was another exit at the far end of the basement room, but my eyes were forcefully drawn to the hulking heart of crystal.


    It was large. Larger than some of the houses in East Fiachra, and from how mist continued to swirl and writhe in concentrated power within, I knew it to be infinitely more deadly than anything my home had faced before. Caera and Sevren set me down gently, propping me against a wall. I slumped as Sevren carefully edged his way closer to the crystal, avoiding the constant stream of energy funneling out of the horns embedded into the side. He laid his single hand on it and engaged some sort of spellform.


    Caera shifted nervously, her hand clenched tightly around her red sword. She made sure to keep her body facing the tunnel entrance where I could still feel Karsien and Hofal battling for their lives far above. ¡°What do you think, Sevren?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too volatile,¡± the highblood man said, backing away. ¡°If we want to destroy it, we need to try and break it in one go. But¡­ But the energy inside needs to go somewhere.¡±


    Caera moved forward, holding out her ruby blade¨Cthe red metal forged of pure basilisk blood itself. ¡°I can destroy it,¡± she said. ¡°If I drive my sword into the crystal and ignite my soulfire, that¡¯ll work, won¡¯t it? My flames can erode the energy inside.¡±


    Sevren shook his head vehemently, putting himself between the crystal and his sister. ¡°Caera, no! I don¡¯t know how¨Cwhen, where you got that power, but I know how it works. The reactions soulfire causes in its decay can set off an explosion. Blithe by itself is already highly, highly volatile. But this energy is condensed a hundred times over! The slightest touch of your soulfire would blow us to Taegrin Caelum!¡±


    Caera leaned forward. ¡°Then that¡¯s what we¡¯ll have to do, Sevren! If that¡¯s what it takes to stop this massacre outside. You can take Naereni out of that other exit before I do it.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Sevren said, blocking the way forward. ¡°No, give me your sword,¡± he said, holding his sole hand out and withdrawing something from his dimension ring. ¡°I can channel lightning attribute mana through it with this.¡±


    Caera recoiled, her face twisting into one of pain. She continued to argue with her brother about who would take the final stab at the crystal.


    And up above, I felt as Hofal¡¯s mana signature petered out. It was quick, the force¨Cthat was already waning¨Cpuffing away like it was a candle being snuffed out. I curled inward, quietly sobbing as Karsien¡¯s mana flowed and pulsed above. The man I¡¯d known as an uncle; a better father than mine had ever been, died far above in a battle against his past. He would never know peace. Never get to live out his dreams of soaring monoliths and great structures.


    Karsien¡¯s signature held out only a minute or so more before it, too, began to die. But it was slow and seeping, like a waterskin that had a hole punctured in the bottom. I could almost feel as my mentor¨Cthe man who had taught me to fight, to steal, to love life¨Cslowly lost his own.


    My tears splattered against the ground beneath me as my wretched weeping continued. Blithe had taken everything from me again. Just as I¡¯d always known it would, no matter how I¡¯d tried to pretend. The useless actions of a street rat were nothing against the overwhelming might of the Doctrination.


    I felt a horrible, piercing pain along the top of my skull as I slammed a fist into the ground, my blood splattering across the stones. I ignored it, even as something dark and twisting writhed in the back of my mind. As something as black as the night surged to the forefront. I felt my mana core tremble, my power entirely depleted.


    My body ached, tremors wracking my form as I screamed. Caera threw herself in front of Sevren, her argument with her brother cutting off as frost spread out around my body. She braced her blade in front of her, warding off the waves of power that ripped themselves from me.


    I would never see them again. Hofal would never smoke his pipe, offering oddly thoughtful advice in the wake of a stupid joke. Karsien would never smirk, his eyes hiding a danger that I¡¯d learned to admire. My fathers were gone.Taken.


    That deep, dark power¨Cone of shifting scales and blackened wings¨Cfinally tore its way to the surface, the pain in my crown becoming unbearable. I yelled as blood spurted from my forehead, feeling as something wrenched its way from the depths of my body. The frost that spread around my feet took on a darker tinge, the cold kiss of deathly frostbite and blackened blood spreading throughout the water. I felt as the power tried to suck energy from my core, to siphon it into its eroding emergence. But there was nothing left to give.


    And when it was done, I slumped, tears seeping from my eyes. Blood streamed down my black hair, my head feeling heavier than it had before. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to care. My family was gone.


    I looked up weakly as Caera hesitantly approached, Sevren staying back with wide eyes. She knelt in front of me, laying a comforting yet tense hand on my shoulder. Her argument with her brother seemed momentarily forgotten. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what pushed you to manifest, but¡­ but it isn¡¯t pleasant,¡± she continued, speaking as if to a child.


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    I numbly raised my hands to my bloody forehead, feeling the protrusions there. A set of horns curled back around my scalp, coming to twin jutting points just over my braid. I¡¯d¡­ manifested Vritra blood? My mouth felt dry, a contrast to the horrible mess of blood that came back from my hand.


    ¡°They¡¯re dead,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll never see them again. They¡¯re¡­¡±


    Sevren looked toward where we came from, then back to us with wide eyes. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time, Caera,¡± he said quickly. ¡°What¡¯s left of the vicars are coming down toward us. I¡¯m going to detonate the crystal, and you¡¯re going to take the Young Rat out of here.¡±


    Caera opened her mouth to respond, but Sevren cut her off. He pulled something from his dimension ring, tossing it to his sister. ¡°Just fucking go!¡± he said. ¡°Those are my notes on aether. Toren can help you understand. Work with him if you want to tear down this wretched fucking system. He¡¯s the key to it all!¡±


    Caera caught it with fumbling hands, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. But the approaching mana signatures of the vicars forced her hand. She pulled me to my feet, dragging me toward the other exit. I stumbled weakly with each step, dizzy from blood loss and the wretched state of my body.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t always the best brother,¡± Sevren called after us as we got closer to the exit. ¡°Tell Lenora that I could¡¯ve been a better son, too.¡±


    Caera choked back a sob as she hauled me forward, her navy hair a curtain that masked her face.


    No, I thought as the exit got closer. No, not another. Not another sacrifice. Not another family ripped apart by blithe.


    That was what I¡¯d always wanted to stop, wasn¡¯t it? Blithe broke what little family I already had. And I knew if I did nothing, it would continue to rip families apart. Just like it had done with Karsien and Hofal.


    Just as it was going to do with Sevren and Caera.


    But what could I even do? I was weak. A useless street rat who thought herself a queen of thieves. Everything that had happened so far was proof of that. I¡¯d slink off here, just like my namesake. A defeated rodent that couldn¡¯t tussle with a cat.


    ¡°I should have told him,¡± Caera muttered to herself. ¡°About all I knew. He always thought¡­ thought I was just a little girl,¡± she said, her voice cracking. ¡°And now I run like one, too. I¡¯m so weak!¡±


    I looked over at the navy-haired woman, blinking slowly. Through our entire assault on the Joans¡¯ estate, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d met a stronger woman. She was confident, good-looking, an amazing mage, and with Vritra blood to boot. How could she think she was weak? She¡¯d been the one to face down Mardeth¡¯s horrible spell before Toren had arrived. Only her, prepared to unleash her all in one single blow.


    Prepared to unleash her all, I thought, feeling a tingle in my limbs.


    We reached the exit, Caera looking back one more time as she prepared to pull me through. Sevren held her ruby sword aloft, the blade nearly as long as he was tall. He¡¯d fastened the lightning contraption to the edge, his finger primed to flick it. His eyes locked with his sister¡¯s as he prepared to drive the point into the basilisk blood crystal.


    ¡°No,¡± I said through dry lips, pushing away from Caera. I stumbled, the woman failing to grab me. ¡°No, not like this.¡±


    My mana core was the driest it had ever been. Not a single drop of energy remained that I could pull on.


    But there was another source I could use. One that had just been provided to me.


    I raised a trembling hand up to my forehead, my hand caressing one of the onyx horns there. It was remarkably smooth, something that genuinely surprised me. My fingers wrapped around it.


    I grit my teeth as I stumbled back toward Sevren, who was watching me with eyes that demanded I leave.


    Then I snapped the horn off. I yelled in pain. A sickening crack echoed out as it wrenched free from my skull, the formation still relatively soft and pliable so soon after manifestation. A pain greater than breaking a bone, greater than being cut to ribbons, and greater than having my core drained toward backlash wracked my mana channels.


    But it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I could push through this.


    I groaned through my teeth as I forced myself forward, holding my horn in my hands. Caera hesitated in the doorway, before rushing back to me. I ignored her, siphoning mana from the horn.


    My core lurched as mana started to fill it once more, not unlike an exhausted muscle suddenly bearing weight once more. But I continued to siphon mana from my horn, the dark energy within seeping in as if it were natural.


    And in the other hand, I called on my spellform. A dagger began to grow there, but it wasn¡¯t of the pale blue ice I¡¯d always known. This ice was dark and grim. It was the frozen water you see on a cold winter night. The kind of frost that creeps up your arm as you¡¯re cast out into the snow, your blood freezing purple underneath.


    The horn in my hand cracked as I siphoned mana from it, my core groaning in protest. My mana channels burned as I forced the creation of my dagger, the searing sensation of backlash spreading along my everything.


    I held the dagger out to the side. ¡°Put,¡± I ground out, my body shaking and trembling as backlash tried to force my consciousness into the void, ¡°Put your soulfire inside of this,¡± I demanded.


    Caera¡¯s brows narrowed in concern before they widened in realization. I was too dazed to realize when it had happened, but Sevren had somehow walked all the way over to me. His eyes were wide as they took in the dagger. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± he muttered. ¡°Graveice reactions are more muted than soulfire¡¯s. The freezing energy can serve to delay any explosion, too, and¨C¡±


    He continued to talk as Caera hesitantly forced a black, flickering flame into the hilt of the dagger. I took it back from her, stumbling back toward the massive basilisk blood crystal. I raised my fist high, thinking of Hofal; of Karsien. Of how this horrid drug had taken three fathers from me, and of all the families it had destroyed this night. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I am no simple street urchin, I thought, my palm slick with sweat. The sweat immediately froze over as it left my fingers, the dagger trembling as I hefted it in preparation. I am the Young Rat. And I take from all those who squander their wealth; take when all around me have only been taken from! I show others that it is not our destiny to be robbed! And I will not let blithe steal me, too!


    I slammed the dagger into the heart-shaped crystal, the weight of my body allowing it to slide through like steel through flesh.


    It went in with the barest resistance, the edge sharpened and hardened beyond belief through the concentrated mana of my horn. I held my breath as I slumped against the reflective ruby surface, my strength spent in that final drive of the dagger. The icy splint around my shin finally collapsed as backlash erupted over every vein, fire flashing through my nerves.


    But the crystal didn¡¯t explode. The energy inside still whirled and roiled, but the icy dagger didn¡¯t trigger any reaction. But once the outside layers wore away, releasing the soulfire underneath¨C


    Caera and Sevren scooped me up, hauling my limp body toward the exit as I faded in and out of consciousness. I dimly registered as the vicars¨Cwho had been slowly trudging toward our position since they slew Karsien and Hofal¨Crushed into the room.


    Caera sent out a wave of black fire as they threw attacks at us, her spell subsuming theirs without resistance. The vicars backed away in fear as the soulfire ate away one of their few remaining members.


    We shoved our way through the exit, pushing on toward the other end. I knew Blood Joan had an underground connection to one of the canals, which was what allowed them to smuggle their drug all over the city without it being traced back to them. We only needed to reach there.


    Caera¡¯s long sword was a flash of red as it held off the attacking vicars. Each of them bore the characteristic marks of this new blithe plague, their mouths frothing with contained steam.


    But she was slowing down. It was only her soulfire that kept each vicar at bay, their cautious eyes tracing the black flames. They seemed to recognize that her black fire could ruin their energy-gathering plans entirely.


    I must have lost consciousness for a moment along the run, because when I came to once more, we¡¯d moved from the dark hallway. I could hear the sound of rushing water nearby, but my head drooped as Sevren tried to hoist me back further. My neck lolled as I looked up, noting Caera¡¯s horribly damaged state.


    She had cuts along her body, the three vicars facing off against her stalking back and forth like a world lion pack sensing blood.


    ¡°You¡¯re slowing down, witch,¡± one of them crooned. Caera swiped with her red sword, a flickering trail of black soulfire sputtering into existence. Small motes of decaying power popped in an arc, but the spell was barely worth a mention.


    The vicar sidestepped it leisurely, loping forward like a cat. Blithe mist sizzled along his grinning teeth. ¡°You¡¯ll join the ascension soon enough. You¡¯ll become something even more.¡±


    Caera stumbled back, her eyes still blazing defiance.


    ¡°You might have killed the Rat,¡± I said, forcing myself to look up. The vicar¡¯s eyes narrowed when they met my own. ¡±But he laid a scheme, you see. By sending us down here, he helped me steal something from all of you.¡±


    The vicars shared uncertain looks, the confidence in my voice making them hesitate. I smiled through bloody teeth, finding the strength for one last quip. ¡°I stole Mardeth¡¯s godhood from him,¡± I said jauntily. ¡°Have you ever done something so grand?¡±


    The lead vicar¡¯s eyes widened, his head snapping back toward the basilisk blood crystal.


    Too late.


    The decaying ice coating Caera¡¯s spell finally gave way, revealing the soulfire underneath.


    The subsequent explosion rocked the entire building, causing the ceiling to shudder and crack. A wave of force, fire, and power blew outward, throwing Sevren, Caera, and me backward, smashing our bodies through a thin wall. Pain consumed my everything as I hit the water of a canal, nearly being submerged. Rocks from the roof tumbled into the water, the ceiling slowly collapsing as waves of fire roiled overhead, obliterating the vicars who were too slow to react. I sank into the fast-flowing water, my thoughts hazy as shockwaves rippled through.


    My last thought before losing consciousness was how I wished I could see Mardeth¡¯s face.

 Chapter 148: Horizons Edge

    Toren Daen


    As I hurtled toward Fiachra far below, my thoughts raced with how to slow my descent. I was already falling with the speed of a diving phoenix, the earth eager to reclaim her child.


    I focused on my fire, twisting myself so that my palms¨Cone still holding Oath¨Cfaced downward. White plumes of mana-charged flames erupted from my hands, the force of their expulsion beginning to slow my descent. The wind ripped past my face, stinging my skin and burning everywhere it touched.


    But I wasn¡¯t afforded the time to halt my fall. A deluge of sludge from behind nearly impacted my back. I twisted just in time, putting my plasma blade in between me and the deadly beam.


    The stream bisected around me evenly, but the force of the impact still continued to push me downward. A continuous hissing sound of evaporating acid blanketed my ears as the wind pressed against my back.


    I was speeding up again. The stream of constant sludge was causing me to accelerate even further, Mardeth''s cackles echoing above me like acid rain. I hurtled downward faster and faster, Fiachra growing closer by the second.


    I need to get away from this stream, I thought, feeling a note of desperation. I need to switch our positions!


    My arm burned from the effort of keeping my saber in front of my body as I thrust another hand to the side. A jet of twirling white fire as thick as my torso snaked out from my arm, threading around the stream of acid in a spiraling vortex. It slowly ascended along the steady barrage of acid, rising like the threads of a screw. Finally, it splashed against the vicar far above.


    For the barest instant, the beam of acid weakened.


    There, I thought, my millennia of experience catching the sudden faltering. I rolled to the side, wrenching myself out from under the constant deluge, before using my telekinesis on the stream to pull myself upward. My body groaned in protest, the sudden change in momentum causing my joints to ache and my stomach to heave, but I pushed through it with a will of iron. I accelerated as a glowing white streak, using Mardeth¡¯s own spell as telekinetic leverage to haul myself forward.


    I surged toward Mardeth, twisting midair once more to generate the pent-up torque of a whipping tornado. I locked eyes with the Vicar of Plague for the barest moment as the night sky stretched around us. My foot snapped upward, then thrust down with the condensed force of a typhoon. Mardeth hastily crossed his hands over his horn as my attack descended with the force of a nascent asura, a rictus grimace crossing his face. A gale of wind followed in the wake of my axe kick, my heel smashing against Mardeth¡¯s forearms.


    I followed through, snapping my leg downward. Mardeth catapulted toward Fiachra not far below, a crack of thunder following in his wake as he obliterated the sound barrier. He became a dark green blur as he shot through a building, before smashing into the ground.


    Yet instead of flesh, he burst into a puddle of slime. Green acid splattered onto the walls and buildings all around, corroding everything it touched around a cratered epicenter.


    I fell toward the wide Sehz River, throwing out wide-area telekinetic pushes to slow my fall. I exhaled a breath of steam as my feet settled evenly over the flow, a single ripple spreading over the still water as I did so. The absolute control of my telekinetic pushes allowed me to hover near-perfectly over the river.


    I allowed my summoned saber to dissipate as I locked my hands behind my back, observing as Mardeth pulled himself together from what was practically nothing, sludge slowly seeping back toward a humanoid form.


    When I was done with this lessuran, I¡¯d need to return to my Hearth. To report the High Sovereign¡¯s horrible plans. That was my purpose, wasn¡¯t it? I tilted my head, my brow furrowing as I noticed the discrepancy in my mind. I¡­ I couldn¡¯t remember why I was here, exactly. I knew I needed to destroy this monster in front of me, but¡­ everything before was a blank. I felt there was something else, but¨C


    I thrust my hand back out, summoning another plasma blade, using the decrepit saber hilt as a focus for my lifeforce and mana. I batted aside a bullet of acid, then raised my saber in a deft flourish to deflect a few others along the flat of my weapon¡¯s edge. I skated backward along the Sehz, Mardeth following in quick pursuit. Every time he got close, my saber threatened to remove his horn from his head. Yet he also couldn¡¯t overwhelm me with his acid alone, so we fell into a delicate dance.


    I cut sideways, forcing the vicar back a step as we danced along the river. The edge moved through the man without resistance, but only a trail of acid steam followed. Mardeth cackled as his mass expanded, bursting forth in a tide of sludge as it tried to engulf me.


    I snarled as his mass blocked out the stars, then punched forward. The orange feather runes on my arms flared with power as sound mana vibrated through his mass, and then a pulse of white fire eviscerated him again. I ducked to avoid a tendril of acid that reformed as fast as I could destroy it. I blurred back along the Sehz, swiping my hand like a scything talon.


    A claw of white fire followed in the wake of my attack, carving through several buildings as Mardeth dodged to the side. He grinned malevolently as he tried to ascend into the sky once more, lurching up with a cackling laugh.


    I snarled in contempt. I would not allow the monster to flee again.


    Half a dozen fire-coated telekinetic pulls fuzzed into existence along the vicar¡¯s body, wrenching him back down toward the water. At the same time, I surged into the air, swinging my plasma saber in a perfect upward cut. Within the same moment, I tried to grasp the horn with my telekinetic pulls, but it radiated an aura that repelled any sort of mana not strong enough.


    ¡°How long do you think you can maintain that form?!¡± Mardeth cackled, barely managing to force his head to the side. I bisected his skull, the horn barely missed as my weapon passed through him with a glowing white hum.


    ¡°I grow stronger every second we dance! While every second that passes, you lose more and more mana! Your strength wanes, while mine waxes!¡± he laughed, the two vertical halves of his body fusing back together as if they were putty.


    I thrust my hand out, layering it with a large-area telekinetic push as I hovered in the air for the barest moment. ¡°You are a fly. Biting and gnawing at every glint of healthy flesh. Your puny wings buzz in a pale imitation of true flight.¡± I breathed out orange steam, the air itself straining from my power. ¡°I will tear those wings from your wretched body.¡±


    Then I swatted my hand down.


    Mardeth¡¯s laughs were forced back into his throat as he shot down to the river once more from the blow. I heard the low whumph of his impact on the riverbed, waves splashing along the burning shoreline.


    I allowed myself to fall, the old mindset of battle threading through my mind as I shot into the river after the vicar. My unique plasma arts made me nearly uncontested amongst the asura, and they would not be bested by a simple lessuran wretch.


    Yet as I entered the water, the murky, indistinct aura of Mardeth¡¯s heartfire spread around me like sticky sap. The water evaporated and boiled around my saber as it touched the green-tinted liquid.


    ¡°This pain will make me ascend,¡± a seeping voice said from all sides, an uncontained misting of green mixed into the Sehz River¡¯s depths. The Vicar of Plague had spread his essence through the water, making any attempt at locating him nearly impossible. ¡°And you¡¯ll struggle and thrash against the inevitable. But you cannot stop it.¡±


    My fiery red hair¨Clike the plasma I knew so well¨Cfloated around my head as I impassively scanned the water. Though fire burned in my chest and my limbs thrummed with mana, I did not display an ounce of that heat. That was one of the greatest lessons I had learned, taught to me by Lord Aldir himself. To master one¡¯s inner flame.


    I engaged the spellform along my lower back, concentrating a sizable portion of mana into it. I pressed and pressed, even as the lurking intent and malice of Mardeth slithered toward me like an ebon eel¡¯s snaking grasp.


    And yet even as I felt the claw of doom slowly approaching, Mardeth somewhere within the murky water, I allowed a layer of white to condense around my body. Barely restrained, the mana built and built in weave upon weave.


    A voice spoke from right beside me, slithering into my ear. ¡°I will feast on your¨C¡±


    Then I let the wave erupt. Not unlike the mana arts of the pantheon race, a bubble of compressed white force cascaded outward. The water around me was blown away with the sound of thunder, a silent bubble opening for a split instant within the center of the powerful Sehz. I saw the riverbed as air rushed in to fill the gaps, water splashing along the riverbanks as a section was suddenly denied the flow.


    My telekinetic shroud broke from the pushback, my limbs fracturing and compressing into themselves as the backflow hit me. Yet even as my body broke, my heartfire pulsed to heal me.


    I snapped my hand out as my feet hit the riverbed, searching with my mind as much as my senses.


    And I grasped the horn. My hand blackened and decayed under its touch, a gradual erasure of my cells and slow death claiming them. Not waiting a moment, I slammed a telekinetic push into the ground, surging back into the sky as the water crashed back in with the force of a tsunami.


    ¡°Wh-what?!¡± Mardeth sputtered in abject surprise beside me, his liquid form forced to condense once more as all the water he¡¯d spread himself through was thrust away. ¡°How did¡­ what¡­¡±


    ¡°You mistake yourself,¡± I said cooly, raising my plasma blade. Mardeth struggled and thrashed as he saw my blade burn, throwing caustic tendrils at me and attempting to wrench my grip free. But my hand¨Cfor the moment¨Cblocked the flow of mana from the basilisk blood crystal. ¡°You are no asura. You are no god.¡± I tilted my head. ¡°You are simply a man, flailing against Fate, foolishly hoping that the corpses of the weak will build you a stairway to Sovereignty. But that hope; that faith? That is such a human thing to have, Mardeth of the Doctrination.¡±


    I saw the abject terror in Mardeth¡¯s eyes as I swung my saber down, prepared to sever his hopes of godhood.


    And then my heartfire pulsed, something deep and uncertain running through it. I felt, for the barest instant, that a familiar eye was looking upon me. Scrutinizing every facet of my being. Peeling me apart. I felt a jolt of true fear as my gaze snapped upward, searching frantically for the source of the attention. It couldn¡¯t be¨C


    Mardeth''s fist capitalized on my sudden fear. It crashed against my sternum, a jolt going through my core as I was sent flying back along the surface of the water like a skipping stone. I twisted midair, ignoring the groan in my quickly-depleting mana core as I forced myself to stabilize with telekinetic pushes. My power flashed in and out as I snarled, hauling myself to my feet once more over the water.


    Mardeth was breathing heavily, the influx of mana returning as my hand was wrenched from promised victory. He glared at me with deepest hate.


    The constraints of this Vessel are beginning to show, I thought, thinking of a new plan. That knowing gaze had simmered away from my attention, forcing me to focus on the fight in front of me. When this was done, I could address its intrusion. I would need to.


    I slammed telekinetic shoves along the water, deciding on a tactic. I blurred backward through a tunnel, a wake of water trailing behind me. The vicar, predictably, followed me straight through.


    ¡°And now you run!¡± he said bestially, a bit of his previous terror still clawing in his voice rabidly. ¡°You flee like a songbird facing a snake!¡±


    Perfect, I thought, allowing the barest upward twitch of my lips. I slammed a sound-shrouded fist into the walls around me, causing parts of the structure to cave in and collapse even as I continued to zip backward. Massive rocks splashed into the river below, causing a cascading chain even as the vicar continued to chase me.


    ¡°Do you think that caving in this tunnel will save you, little mage?¡± Mardeth cried, darting around the rocks as they fell. Moving in a predictable, easy-to-exploit manner.


    ¡°No,¡± I said evenly. ¡°I am not the one who needs saving, lessuran.¡±


    I threw both hands forward, focusing on my core. It was emptying at an absurd rate, my meager reserves well under a third of their already pathetic capacity.


    I ground my teeth, forcing a sizable portion remaining along my palms. Plasma sputtered into existence as it concentrated in my hands.


    There was a reason I did not always use plasma in combat. Once released, it was extremely difficult to affect. Plasma went in a straight, unerring line. Once you let it go, altering its course was impossible. Fire was more malleable; better for wide-area attacks and splashing all across your foe, while plasma would sear a hole straight through your opponent and anything beyond them. As I had earlier in the fight, a fire could twine and twirl in any complex shape I needed, but what I needed right now was unerring power.


    A solid beam of humming white plasma erupted from my hands, the spell easily as large as my torso. It shot forward at nearly imperceptible speed, the tons of stone falling in its path not slowing it in the slightest. And Mardeth, who had barely dodged a stone five times his size, was lined up perfectly to take the stream directly in the head. He was sandwiched against the roof of the tunnel.


    He had nowhere to go.


    That was what I thought. Except Mardeth yelled in fury, throwing himself upward in a streak of green. My spell carved straight through his chest, burning everything there to ash. It punched through the tunnel ceiling and erupted into the night sky beyond, the heat in the tunnel nearly overwhelming.


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    But the vicar had thrown himself against the earth ceiling, his body itself corroding the stone. He¡¯d disappeared into it like a worm, his indistinct lifeforce allowing him to slither through undetected.


    My breathing stuttered slightly as I skated backward, my core seizing from the sudden expenditure of mana. Sweat beaded on my brow as I struggled not to let my telekinetic supports waver.


    Mardeth shot from somewhere in the dark ceiling, crashing into my disoriented form. We were thrust underwater, the vicar¡¯s hands wrapping around my throat in a constricting vice. I could see his blackened smile as we sank lower, only part of a torso and his head remaining in the wake of my attack.


    I snarled, raising my hands to grasp the sides of the vicar¡¯s head. I pulled on the water around us, using my telekinesis to leverage my movement. We shot off along the river like a bullet, steam and green sludge traveling in our wake as we became a riptide.


    Mardeth leaned closer to me, his grin leering as his body slowly regenerated in real-time. That green tether still connected Brahmos¡¯ horn to his source of power, providing him with a wealth of excess mana reserves, while my own depleted in a steady stream.


    I pulled us along a jutting tributary of the Sehz, Mardeth¡¯s fingers tightening around my throat. My heartfire worked to heal over the damage of oxygen deprivation, but even those reserves were nearing their limits. The abuse this weak, part-asuran body had taken was absurd. How it had continued to hold out was astounding in and of itself.


    I sensed the barrier well in time. I grappled with the vicar, using telekinetic pulls to give myself a better position as I wrenched his arms free. I twisted around him as we streamed through the water, pressing my shoes against his back and pulling his arms with a hand each. Tendrils of green mana launched from his back, twirling around my legs, torso, and arms even as I held him prone. The caustic decay burrowed into my body as I refused to budge, my muscles burning and my channels groaning.


    We reached the blockage in the canal in barely a second. A staggering layer of debris and rock barred our way forward, an unnatural barrier in the waterway. I snarled as I used Mardeth¡¯s body like a ram, slamming him through the stone face-first.


    Mardeth¡¯s body exploded again on impact as it was used to smash away the debris. We erupted onto the other side of the blockage, a torrent of water following in our wake as a long-clogged artery was finally released.


    I rolled along the ground as I was thrown from the impact. I finally came to a stop, my body covered in caustic burns and deep lacerations from smashing through the stone. I coughed up water, feeling the damage along my body struggling to heal. This body had a far greater healing factor than the one I was used to, but it seemed even that had its limit as its excess heartfire reached its breaking point.


    My body trembled as I pulled myself to my feet once more, observing the area I¡¯d broken into.


    A hundred or so lessers watched me with fear and awe, staggering back. I saw several empty cookfires, this place feeling¡­ feeling familiar. The lessers congregated around a single woman with mousy brown hair. Streaks of grey slashed through her bun, indicating her middle age for a human. There was a single beast core in her hands.


    She felt familiar. Why?


    ¡°Toren?¡± she whispered, her jaw growing slack.


    Who was Toren? I felt I should know, but for some reason¨C


    Mardeth slowly pulled himself together above the water, regenerating as that constant stream of mana rejuvenated him.


    ¡°And we return to where it all began, little mage,¡± Mardeth mocked, seeming none the worse for wear. ¡°Back in the depths of the slums.¡± He cocked his head. ¡°Do you still think it''s worthwhile to defend these lessers?¡±


    I opened my mouth to tell him off. To tell him that I would sooner see him dead than waste precious mana defending those behind me. After all, I was an asura.


    But that was wrong. So, so wrong. Why was it wrong?


    Mardeth raised a hand, pointing a finger at the woman with mousy brown hair not far behind me. A swirl of green appeared there, churning in a contained wave. The lessers behind me surged away with cries of fear. Only one remained, staring down the attack with admirable courage. That middle-aged woman. I could feel her heartfire trembling, but that courage¡­


    ¡°I see it in your eyes, little mage,¡± Mardeth said, keeping that churning spell primed. ¡°You¡¯d gladly let me strike down these ants. You know my words to be true, now. That we are their betters.¡±


    A searing pain lanced across my skull, fire searing across the recesses of my mind. I buckled over, feeling as if something were trying to wrench itself free from my head. To reassert itself in power.


    Mardeth laughed, then released his spell.


    I launched myself haphazardly in its path, a smattering of fire erupting around my palm. Unbalanced as I was, the spell seared straight through my protections, nearly eating entirely through my left hand.


    But behind me, Greahd was safe. The Will suddenly surged upward, no longer kept in check by Aurora¡¯s constant influence.


    She¡¯d ripped herself backward, leaving me¨CToren, and fully Toren¨Cto work under that burden.


    I¨C my bond thought, horrified, I almost destroyed you. Swept you away under my own weight.


    It doesn¡¯t matter, I thought back, trying to force myself to think. The Second Phase of my Phoenix Will was draining mana at an even faster rate now that Aurora¡¯s experience and power were not taking the lead.


    Mardeth cocked his head, looking¡­ disappointed.


    ¡°Still, you throw yourself in front of them,¡± he said, sighing. His slippery voice violated my eardrums, same as ever. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll never¨C¡±


    I launched myself at the vicar, my instincts demanding I continue the fight. I couldn¡¯t afford to stand around. Every second that ticked by saw a little more of my mana evaporate under the scorching effect of my Phoenix Will. Every second made my body ache more and more, my heartfire inching closer and closer to oblivion with every wound healed.


    I swiped at Mardeth with my plasma saber, trying desperately to shear through his horn. Mardeth weaved to the side, his fist smashing against my abdomen. I coughed up blood as I shot through a nearby wall, dust falling around me.


    I felt another attack coming. I sent a wave of pushing force in front of me, barely managing to avoid a torrent of acid as it seeped along the floor. I jumped backward, flipping out a window and trying to use the terrain to my advantage.


    Mardeth didn¡¯t let me. My reflexes, which were once so absurdly heightened at the start of this fight, had begun to flag. Aurora¡¯s voice, exhausted as it was, still screamed for me to turn and counter.


    The vicar¡¯s hand latched onto my face, a spread of sludge wrapping around my skull. His arm elongated to absurd lengths as it became more fluid, twisting and warping with me grasped at the end. Then he slammed me toward the ground.


    I twisted on instinct, firing a beam of white plasma toward the vicar even as he cracked me against the stones. A crater ten feet wide opened under my body, earth shattering and breaking as the breath was driven from my lungs. I coughed up blood.


    My beam of plasma narrowly missed Mardeth¡¯s horn, searing through a nearby window. The monster snarled, his deep green visage rippling as something bulged underneath his skin.


    Then he hurled me again, chucking me through another building. I rolled, feeling my Will trying to retreat as my reserves neared empty. My heart ached painfully in my chest, and my heartfire nearly expended.


    A long, long shadow¨Ceven darker than the night around me¨Cwas cast by a looming building.


    The Doctrination Temple of East Fiachra stretched behind me.


    I foggily pulled myself to my feet. In my head, Aurora was quiet, sensing how we were near the end of our power.


    Mardeth surged through the building, horrid acid trailing in his wake. He launched himself at me, but I was still fast enough to use telekinetic pulls on the side of the temple walls. I surged up to the top of the temple, twisting midair to prepare for a swipe of Mardeth¡¯s sludge.


    It didn¡¯t come. Instead, a kick to my stomach sent me crashing against the roof of the temple. I rolled out of the way of a dozen spearing tentacles, the decaying mana ripping open the roof and revealing the pews far below. I surged forward, swiping at the vicar with my plasma saber.


    He simply hovered back a step, before smashing me with a tendril of sludge. I raised an arm over my head, barely managing to block the attack. My arms burned as I fell to one knee, the rooftop cratering beneath me from the force of impact.


    Then another tendril smashed me across my unprotected chest. I shot backward like a bullet, crashing into the tall steeple of the temple. I stayed there, embraced by the stones, for a bare moment. My hair shifted back to strawberry blonde, then settled into deep red once more as I forcefully maintained control of my Phoenix Will. The chains along my arm¨Cwhich had been shifting and warping in tune with my heartfire¨Cflickered.


    I fell forward once more, toppling onto the tiles in front of me. I rested on my forearms, coughing up blood as my core and body screamed in pain. The orange highlight of my runes flared in and out as I struggled to maintain an iron grip on my Will.


    ¡°And now we are back where we started, little mage,¡± Mardeth said from above me. Despite the brutal combat we¡¯d gone through, he looked none the worse for wear. The constant influx of mana that surged through his horn kept his reserves bursting at the seams, while my own had been drained from near the start. ¡°How many times must this happen before you finally understand the truth?¡±


    Toren, Aurora said sadly, feeling how my body was breaking down under the continued effect of our will.


    I coughed, my limbs burning as I struggled to pull myself to my feet. I was certain several of my ribs were broken from that last clash, and my heartfire was too rung out to heal it over any longer. ¡°You will never,¡± I coughed out, ¡°Never be a god. Not with only Fiachra¡¯s mana.¡±


    ¡°Fiachra is just the start, little mage,¡± Mardeth crooned, floating closer. He slowly manifested a concentrated, verdant green tendril of virulent acid. I felt it condensed once; twice, thrice over. He pulled it along behind him, preparing to finish this once and for all. ¡°My plague will spread all across Alacrya. Aedelgard will be next. I¡¯d like to see Seris Vritra¡¯s face as her pretty little seaside city burns. And the Sovereigns will watch in awe as I fulfill their grand design.¡±


    He spread his hands out to the side, the moonlight illuminating him. ¡°Seris Vritra will die just as you will, Toren Daen. Another step on my way to ascension.¡±


    I chuckled weakly. ¡°You were never written about,¡± I said through bloody teeth. ¡°Never even worth a mention. Not even a passing hint.¡±


    Mardeth looked down at me with a sneer. ¡°Alacrya will remember¨C¡± S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°No, it won¡¯t,¡± I said, feeling certain as I struggled to stay upright. ¡°You will not even be worth a mention, Mardeth of the Doctrination. Alacrya will forget you. The Scythes will forget you.¡± I heaved for breath, my ribs creaking. I thought of all I knew about The Beginning After the End, feeling a grim smile settle across my face. Even if I were to die, I felt happy knowing that this man was not worth a footnote, either. ¡°And the Sovereigns will never know your name. Fate deems you nothing.¡±


    Mardeth snapped his whip, carving another hole into the roof around me. ¡°Such worthless last words,¡± he said, raising his arm up high.


    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.


    Then something in the air snapped. I looked up, seeing as the connection to Mardeth¡¯s horn¨Cwhich had always been present¨Cfizzed away. An echoing boom rattled my eardrums, a plume of green fire erupting far to the north.


    The vicar screamed, doubling over in pain as his connection to the basilisk blood crystal was forcibly shattered. His form¨Calready monstrous¨Cbecame even more hideous as those bulging spots on his body burst open in splashes of murky sludge, revealing deep recesses of rot. His mana churned and writhed in abject agony, his flying stuttering as he fell to the rooftop.


    Thank you, Naereni, I thought, putting the pieces together. I¡¯ll have to set up a noble for you to rob after this.


    ¡°You asked me what I get by protecting street rats?¡± I said, stumbling forward. Oath¡¯s decrepit hilt was clenched tightly in my hand, the remains of my saber barely holding itself together after the power I¡¯d been pumping through it. ¡°They were the ones who destroyed your crystal, Mardeth,¡± I said, blood dripping from the edges of my mouth. ¡°The ones you said were worthless. The ones you said would never rise to our power.¡±


    Mardeth¡¯s crazed eyes snapped up to mine, a true madness roiling inside.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never reach your ascension,¡± I said with finality. ¡°It¡¯s been stolen from you.¡±


    He snarled angrily, pushing himself to feet just as wobbly as my own. Without the constant influx of mana, his body seemed to be breaking itself down under the effects of Brahmos¡¯ horn. He couldn¡¯t hold off the corrupting effects any longer.


    ¡°If I can¡¯t have my godhood,¡± he croaked, stumbling back on knees that bulged and snapped, ¡°You can¡¯t have your home!¡± he growled, shooting up into the sky in a rickety ascension. He lurched forward unevenly as he struggled to climb higher, mana bleeding from him in deathly waves.


    He raised both of his arms into the sky, energy seeping from every inch of his body. Even the horn grafted onto his forehead began to release its mana, each and every bit funneled into a single spell. I braced myself against the outpour of power, stumbling as the sudden pressure nearly forced me to topple.


    A massive basilisk of solid green decay slowly coalesced in the air, flying on two pairs of wings that rained acid below. Six limbs, each as thick as tree trunks, stamped the air in a maddened rage. Three sets of eyes darted about madly as the spell formed, the vicar in the air curling inward as every last drop of his mana was shoved into this final attack.


    He glared the deepest hate down at me as the basilisk-shaped spell roared, the sound echoing out over all of Fiachra.


    One more push, Toren, Aurora said, her mind growing close to my own again. Only one more.


    I chuckled, settling my stance on shaky legs. I held Oath¡¯s handle out to the side, drawing on my lifeforce to coalesce a vein of aether through the handle like a focus. I felt a lurching pain as I dipped deeper than I ever had before, drawing on the baseline of lifespan that I had always avoided. I gritted my teeth as the energy flowed along my veins, leaving scorching pain in its wake.


    Overtop of that, I layered a telekinetic shroud, feeling my core ache as I squeezed out more power. As a final touch, white plasma engulfed the edge, humming with a comforting rhythm.


    I looked up at Mardeth as his massive spell began to hurtle down toward me. The amount of mana compressed into that single spell was beyond anything I¡¯d ever faced before. It would swallow me whole, then burst apart, washing away everything in its path. Everyone in the barest vicinity would be swept away.


    Unless I did something about it.


    A long, focused tube of telekinetic force appeared in front of me, not unlike the one required for the Stake of the Morning. Except this one was wider; designed to propel something other than a simple spell. My body screamed in agony as I forced myself to ignore the beginning stages of backlash. My channels rebelled against what I ordered of them, my body quaking as it threatened to give in.


    I held Oath out to the side as the roaring basilisk approached me, its eyes so full of hate.


    ¡°Horizon¡¯s Edge,¡± I muttered.


    Then I pushed forward.


    My body accelerated along the telekinetic tube of force like a bullet in a railgun. I heard a crack of thunder as my body broke the sound barrier, then nothing more. Fire burned along my features as the air heated from my sudden acceleration. My telekinetic shroud¨Cbarely conjured in time for this play of power¨Csplintered and broke as it bore part of the overwhelming backlash. But the nature of this technique was twofold¨CI wasn¡¯t just spreading the telekinetic recoil along my shroud. I was using the recoil to push me even further.


    My plasma blade seared through the oncoming basilisk spell like a streak of light. To an outside observer, it must have appeared as if a burning beam had unzipped the massive aura of decay right down the middle. A sound like a hundred detonations echoed out as I ascended with purpose, the remains of Mardeth¡¯s spell exploding outward. I barely registered the vicar crossing his arms over his head as I blurred past him, Oath flashing as I swiped it sideways.


    I reached the apex of my arc in the air. I felt strangely lucid as Oath¡¯s handle disintegrated, the final attack too much for it to withstand. It dusted away on the wind in that split instant where I was weightless in the sky.


    My hair reverted back to its regular color, the burning red fading from my locks as my Will retreated back into my core. Every inch of my body seared as I began to fall back down to the earth.


    And I saw as Mardeth¡¯s smoking hands fell from his arms, severed at the wrist by my searing cut. A heartbeat later, Brahmos¡¯ horn separated from his head as well, the base cleaved completely through.

 Chapter 149: To the Effigies of the Gods

    Toren Daen


    I fell from the sky, my consciousness flitting in and out. The wind whipped past my face as the temple beneath rushed up to meet me.


    Toren! A melodic, distant voice thundered across my mind. Toren, do not let yourself fall! Brace yourself!


    I groaned, blinking my eyes open.


    I inhaled sharply in fear as I thrust my left hand out, calling on my telekinetic emblem. I fell through one of the holes in the roof, the pews rising to meet me.


    It sputtered once, pushing against the ground in a flare of white. My arms wrenched painfully as the pushback impacted, my momentum slowing for a spurt. Then my core gave out, backlash wracking every inch of my body.


    I smashed into the floor, the cold, cold earth unwelcoming of my form. I felt as my broken ribs creaked and seized. I spasmed on the stone, coughing up blood. My consciousness threatened to mist away, only the forceful, weak light of Aurora¡¯s mind near my own keeping me awake.


    Mardeth¡¯s body cracked against the edges of one of the holes in the roof, then splatted wetly against the ground not far from me. Something clinked against the floor not a moment later.


    Brahmos¡¯ onyx horn¨Cstreaked through with reddish veins¨Crolled along the moonlit floor.


    For a moment, everything was still in the temple. My ragged, wet breathing was all I could hear, the mosaic of the basilisk in human form near the altar watching us with outstretched arms. The mortals at its feet groveled in subjugation, bowing their backs and prostrating themselves in tiny tiles of terror. The horns along the side of its head seemed to reject the light, casting everything in deeper darkness.


    And those scarlet eyes peered directly into my soul. Measuring me; judging me unworthy.


    I trembled, wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball and let the darkness take me. Every inhale caused sharp, wretched pain to streak across my body. It was as if a dozen nails were piercing my nerves over and over, punishing my overuse of magic.


    Then Mardeth¡¯s body began to shift. His hands had been severed at the wrists, and no longer did he heal. He growled as his dark green skin shifted slightly, some of his original gray coloring returning. Liquid too green to be blood dribbled from his lips.


    No, I thought, trying to force myself to move. Mardeth was shifting, muttering incoherently as he moved. No, he¡¯s not dead yet! I can¡¯t let him get back up!


    But no matter how I commanded my limbs to move, they disobeyed their master. The abuse I¡¯d put them through was showing its mark. I demanded and surged, trying with all my might to move.


    Nothing happened. I simply spasmed on the floor as Mardeth slowly forced a foot underneath him, his wild eyes looking around. One milky white, still blind as ever, the other alight with fire.


    They settled on me. Pure, unadulterated fury surged through his eyes as he glared at me.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± he growled, stumbling to the side as he finally stood. He rocked forward, a tendril of solid green sludge slowly growing from the cauterized stump of his right hand. It wrapped around Brahmos¡¯ horn on the ground, the tentacle clutching it like an ice pick as he slowly hobbled closer to me. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for what you took from me,¡± he ground out, bracing himself against the pews by our side.


    I couldn¡¯t move as the vicar slowly hobbled toward me, murder wrought across his broken features. He moved painfully slow, as if the very shadows of his robes were trying to haul him down to hell. But still, he pushed on, and I could not move.


    Until I felt solid hands underneath my arms, pulling me upward. I groaned, leaning into the action. Aurora¡¯s shade helped pull me to my feet, bracing me as I wobbled under legs that felt as if they¡¯d just held up the sky.


    And Mardeth¡¯s twisted visage finally approached, his eyes burning with maddened fury.


    I didn¡¯t say anything. I just snarled bestially as Mardeth swung the horn downward like a dagger, its tip intent on my heart.


    I barely sidestepped, the edge tearing a bloody line across my chest as I avoided the tip. Lady Dawn¡¯s feathering touch guided me as I lashed out with a weak hook, my knuckles crashing against the vicar¡¯s stomach.


    I felt it¨Cthe gritty sensation of flesh grinding against flesh. The meat of Mardeth¡¯s stomach caved from my pathetic blow, but the vicar felt it despite the weakness behind my strike.


    And I could almost hear it. The blow rang like a hangman¡¯s bell into the dread silence of high noon through my mind. The song of it called to me; cemented my purpose. All around me, the ghosts of those lost in the plague spectated the coming execution.


    Mardeth stumbled back, no bond present to help him brace against the wear of time and fighting. I took a step forward, feeling Aurora¡¯s steadying hands along my shoulders. My knees shook with each footfall, but my bond¡¯s guiding touch ensured I did not fall. I would not fall.


    The Vicar of Plague struck at me with a wild sideways stab, hoping to drive the horn into my head. I saw the flash of black and red coming, allowing my knees to buckle for the barest instant.


    It passed cleanly over my head. Aurora¡¯s sturdy grasp anchored under my arms, pulling upward in turn as I threw an uppercut with my right hand.


    With the combined surge of momentum, my fist connected cleanly with the vicar¡¯s jaw, smashing what teeth he had remaining together in an audible crack. He stumbled backward several steps, falling over as his tendril of acid dissipated. Brahmos¡¯ horn clattered to the ground, glinting in the moonlight that streamed through the acid-carved ceiling.


    The basilisk mosaic behind Mardeth dared me. Those red eyes sneered in arrogance, belittling everything I was.


    That executioner¡¯s bell rang once more in my mind. Two strokes.


    I knelt on trembling legs, picking up the horn. Blood streamed down my chest where Mardeth had scored a cut, matching the barest flash of red on the sharp tip of the horn. The vicar struggled to his feet, but when he met my eyes, no longer was it simple fury burning there.


    I inhaled, feeling my ribs stab sharply as I breathed in the barest intent in the air. I tasted the fear. The raw terror that suffused Mardeth¡¯s mind, all at once. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In this moment, he was so, so human. As I tasted his fear¨Clike the flapping wings of a million poisonous insects digging into my mind¨CI almost pitied him. I could almost imagine the slum boy he used to be, fighting and scrounging for scraps every day as he lamented his weakness. I¡¯d seen a hundred just like him in East Fiachra as they raged against the hunger pains. As they struggled not to give in to the temptation of blithe.


    I¡¯d seen broken things like him before. Broken people.


    But Mardeth was no human. Because animals could feel fear, too. Prey could cower and tremble in the presence of a hunter.


    He knows his mortality at last, my bond¡¯s voice feathered across my ear. I could almost sense her spirit standing directly behind me, her arms supporting mine in this last crusade. For so long this creature has wrought pain. It has always claimed to know pain. But only now does it fear what is beyond that pain.


    I gripped Brahmos¡¯ horn in my hand, the contours seeming to settle perfectly in a reverse grip. The horn was long and straight like a railroad spike.


    Perfect for driving into flesh.


    ¡°All you¡¯ve ever done is take,¡± I growled out, banishing the image of a whimpering slum rat as I stalked forward. In defiance of both Mardeth and the looming mosaic behind him. ¡°Everywhere you touch, you take and take and take. You don¡¯t care what you leave behind. Who you leave behind,¡± I hissed. Was I speaking just to him, or to the basilisk as well?


    Mardeth stumbled backward, a crazed cast to his mottled face. His single misty eye darted around wildly, like that of an animal trapped in a cage. He lashed out with his stumps of forearms, trying to punch me as sputtering bits of acid appeared over the cauterized wounds.


    I slipped one, slamming a curled fist into Mardeth¡¯s ribs. His mottled, blithe-ridden flesh gave under the weight of my blow. I felt one of his ribs crack before I wove around another swipe of his putrid, rotting arms, popping the vicar in the jaw with a solid cross. My enemy tumbled backward, tripping onto his back as his ankles hit the stairs of the altar.


    A third tolling of the sentencing gong. A fourth.


    Mardeth grunted, turning himself over and looking up at the mosaic that loomed over us all. Just like the many prostrating worshippers at the basilisk¡¯s feet, so too did the wretched priest bow in submission. Pleading with all he was worth for divine intervention.


    Its eyes judged him just as worthless as they did me.


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    Mardeth stumbled up the steps as I slowly stalked forward, the burning feeling of my body breaking down forgotten as I used Aurora¡¯s bond as an anchor. The vicar tripped over the altar, moving away from me until he finally hit the mosaic tiles.


    He looked up at the Vritra¡¯s form, a silent, desperate pleading in his eyes. ¡°Please,¡± he burbled, black liquid streaming from his lips. ¡°Please!¡±


    It seems that, in the end, the man of the cloth finally finds a mote of faith,


    Aurora mused darkly as I approached like a specter.


    ¡°Your gods won¡¯t save you,¡± I said, my voice wet and pained. I held Brahmos¡¯ horn close, its deadly point poised to strike as the vicar seemed to realize he had nowhere to go. ¡°They would have never saved you. They are not here. They were never here. This is an empty tomb, and even in their place of power, I am your judge.¡±


    He backed against the wall, the uncaring, apathetic portrait of one of his gods staring down. Mardeth called out in a rabid cry, lunging at me one final time.


    I checked his strike against my left forearm, my bond bracing my block further. Then I drove my right hand forward.


    The horn in my hand sank deeply into Mardeth¡¯s chest as he lurched, his back hitting the wall. He gasped as rotten, black blood spurted from between his robes.


    I took another step forward, slamming my forearm against the vicar¡¯s wretched throat. I held him there, looking into his terrified eyes. I read it there. The utter horror. The questioning, rabid fear. And, finally, I slammed a fist into the spike over his heart like a hammer over a nail. Like the sentencing gavel of a judge over wood.


    And then the fifth toll of the hangman¡¯s bell reverberated through the very temple; through my very soul. And when I slammed my fist into the horn once more; twice more, driving it deeper and further through the vicar¡¯s broken form, no bells rang. Because finality had already been reached.


    Black blood splattered over the Vritra mosaic as the tip of the horn erupted from Mardeth¡¯s back, sinking into the wall. I saw the terror in Mardeth¡¯s eyes as the deed was done, his form pinned to the stone like a fly to a dartboard. His body¨Cawakened to Vritra blood¨Cwas powerful enough to survive even this for the barest of times. But he was destined to die. His song was over.


    ¡°All you have ever done is take. It¡¯s time someone took back from you,¡± I snarled, my eyes boring into Mardeth¡¯s blackened soul. His heartfire danced as it slowed. But for the first time¨Cas I recognized the vicar for the prey he was¨CI saw something new in his soultether.


    I grasped the base of the horn, snarling as I called on my lifeforce one final time.


    Not to heal myself, though I desperately needed to. Not to sympathize with a crowd, as I¡¯d done with my music. Not to create a conduit for my telekinetic shroud. No. I needed it for something deeper.


    I called on the reserves of my lifespan, a long tendril of heartfire snaking along my hands and through the horn like a perfect focus. It snaked and crawled forward like a tide of blood; like a hawk as it hones in on a rabbit. The vein of lifeforce wrapped around Mardeth¡¯s heart, encasing it in chains of aether.


    I could never sympathize with this monster. I could never sway his blackened soul with my intent-based music, or heal him in turn. He wasn¡¯t even human.


    And so, instead of sympathizing, I dominated. I snarled as my sweaty, blood-caked palms clenched around Brahmos¡¯ horn. The vicar¡¯s heartfire¨Calready wavering and weak from near death¨Ccollapsed under the demand of my dawnlight dominion.


    I was of the phoenix and the djinn. Mine was to create and nurture; push toward a better future. My blood encouraged growth and healing. The vicar¡¯s was to simply decay and break all it touched, weathering it under a hateful storm.


    But that storm relented under my will.


    Slowly, his aether changed its dark tune, seeping along my thread of lifeforce as I drew it from his very blood. After all, heartfire was the aether of the body. And was it not natural for a predator to consume their prey, taking nutrients from them to continue their existence? It was a cycle like any other. A flow of blood and a waltz of brutality, where only the leader of the dance emerged.


    The horn¨Calready barely held together as it was drained entirely of mana¨Cbegan to change as this energy flowed through it. The black, onyx sheen flaked away, a burning white not unlike my own plasma taking its place. The reddish veins that coursed along its rigid structure were slowly overwhelmed as lifeforce threaded through them, the color of a waning dawn slowly coursing back toward me.


    ¡°Heartfire is what tethers the soul to the body,¡± I said, feeling as Mardeth¡¯s personal aether¨Cdominated and forced to become mine as my chains of lifeforce enwrapped his heart¨Cslowly flooded into my system. I felt a rejuvenating wave as my wounds began to slowly heal over, the vicar¡¯s body shriveling as if dehydrating. ¡±Without it, you can¡¯t even have a vessel. Your soul will drift away, unanchored.¡±


    I chuckled weakly, feeling as my ribs reknit themselves. I pushed Brahmos¡¯ horn¨Cnow colored a brilliant white with veins of orange and purple¨Cdeeper into Mardeth¡¯s body. I savored the ease with which it sank further, strength returning to my muscles as my wounds washed away.


    All the while, I looked the vicar in the eye, basking in the utter terror that he felt. His limbs had struggled weakly before, crashing against my body in a vain attempt to stop me from draining him of life. But as the slow draw of his lifespan continued, his thrashing weakened. ¡°This is for all the people you¡¯ve hurt, Mardeth,¡± I said, leaning closer so that my breath kissed his ear. ¡°Every bit of life I take from you, I¡¯ll give back to those you¡¯ve broken. I¡¯ll heal over every bit of damage you¡¯ve caused. Children will laugh in the dead halls of the broken Doctrination. People will sing songs of joy long in the future as they continue their lives, unburdened by your rot. The power I take from you will only make this world brighter¨Cand you will only be a footnote in the history of this world.¡±


    Somehow, the terror in Mardeth¡¯s eyes sank into something even deeper. I continued to siphon his heartfire from his chest, the blackened energy becoming my own every second that time went on.


    ¡°No,¡± he burbled. ¡°No, this pain¡­ I¡¯ll use it! I¡¯ll¨C¡±


    ¡°Pain isn¡¯t the path to power, Mardeth,¡± I said, almost soothingly. Like I was speaking to a confused child, unaware of the dangers of thrusting their hands into the fire. I could feel Aurora¡¯s touch. As my lifeforce connected to Mardeth''s on that pulling stream, I saw the withering vicar¡¯s eyes widen, staring in terror at the phantom behind. Through this draining link, he saw the angel at my shoulder. That kept me strong.And he trembled.


    ¡°You die because you reject community,¡± I whispered. Mardeth''s blank eye stared in terror as Lady Dawn held me sturdily, her burning orbs seeming to swallow Mardeth¡¯s entire soul. ¡°Because you deny every bit of strength that comes from working with those beside you. I am here because of all those that hold my shoulders. That stood by me ¡®round the cookfires. That lifted me when I fell, and held me when I wept. You denied that when you rejected your origins, Mardeth. You denied life.¡±


    I could almost sense it. The moment his withered heartfire frayed too much to keep his soul bound to this mortal plane. As the light of life drained from his eyes, I could almost imagine the grasping claws of fiery demons dragging his soul to hell beneath my feet.


    And finally, there was nothing left to take. Mardeth''s twisted physique had become a shriveled husk, his already lanky body shrinking inward as if I had taken every bit of moisture from his corpse. His face was twisted in an eternal mask of fear and despair.


    My hand stayed wrapped around the horn that staked the vicar to the mosaic behind us, the Vritra looking down impassively from above.


    I took a shaky step back, still feeling the effects of backlash as they coursed through my mana channels. My body throbbed, a deep ache pervading me that not even my heartfire could wash away. My reserves had been nearly entirely refilled from the slow, methodic draw I¡¯d performed on Mardeth, but that didn¡¯t mean I was entirely fit once more.


    It is done, Aurora said, a quiet weariness in her tone.


    No, I thought back shakily, fighting to stay conscious as backlash threatened to claim me once more. My core throbbed, and something in my heart ached from my extensive use of healing throughout the day. I¡¯d probably lost a decade of my life from how I¡¯d drained the vicar. No, I still need¡­ Need to heal this city. Need to put out all the fires he started. They need me.


    My bond was about to respond before we felt a sudden power thrum from across the city. An expansive, yawning blackness, so much more powerful than Mardeth ever was. I froze, my exhausted mind trying to think of what to do as the force rocketed toward the temple.


    The power felt¡­ familiar somehow. I stumbled forward, resting my forearms against the altar as I tried to think of what to do.


    But my thoughts were foggy; indistinct. Was this a Sovereign, finally sent to see the horrible uproar that had occurred? Or had Aurora finally been discovered? I needed to run. To hide, didn¡¯t I?


    I tried to move, but my body decided to finally give out for good, locking up as I tried to shift. There were some things I couldn¡¯t heal.


    Toren, Aurora said, about to say something. I felt her hands brace under my arms once again, prepared to try and move me once more.


    And then the power reached us, descending from the ceiling above like a leashed typhoon.


    Moonlight glimmered across the figure¡¯s long, pearlescent hair, her slim body blocking out the silver streak of light that had once illuminated the Vritra mosaic. Twin onyx horns thrust from their forehead like an impala¡¯s, seeming like a crown as they adorned skin the color of purest alabaster. She was draped in a dark fur mantle, a battledress that glittered with flashing, purple highlights along the trim savoring the darkness in the temple like fine wine.


    The woman held her delicate hands crossed conservatively over her stomach, the light from above split by her hair. She held a dreadful beauty to the curves of her features, like the grace and dignity of an unsheathed sword. Everything about her was sharp and elegant in a way that seemed almost impossible. The aura that radiated from the moon-blessed woman was as vast as a sea, kept in check by a simple force of will. It wasn¡¯t like Mardeth¡¯s slow, smothering intent as it dithered poison in your ear.


    No, this was a storm held back at will. A hurricane held still in time.


    I¡¯d heard of this woman by description. I¡¯d even seen an artist¡¯s rendition in several of the books I¡¯d read. And I¡¯d seen how she¡¯d planned and moved against the High Sovereign for the betterment of Alacrya in the marching chapters of a novel from another world. But Seris Vritra¡¯s domineering presence wrenched the breath from my lungs, my core aching further in response. She slowly hovered down, her troubled eyes turning to inspect the decimated temple.


    And then they settled on me, and I felt my heart lurch. Those onyx eyes burned into my soul.


    All thoughts of what I¡¯d read fled my mind. Even my knowledge of The Beginning After the End vanished like a puff of smoke as her pupils met mine, a shudder unrelated to her power threading across my limbs.


    She might¡¯ve looked different. Might be projecting a power that made my bones shake and my body tremble in instinctual fear. But I¡¯d stared deep into those eyes, seeing something mirrored in them not a full day past. I¡¯d seen their longing as they drank in the night sky, far-off stars and distant mountains casting them in quiet sorrow. My own eyes had swum in those depths, nearly drowned in them.


    For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath as we stared at each other, a strange reflection of the moment we¡¯d shared not long ago. As we lamented the stars and our petty place in the wider cosmos.


    Until finally, I wrenched the word¨Cthe question¨Cfrom my soul.


    ¡°Renea?¡±

 Chapter 150: Beneath the Masks

    Seris Vritra


    The mana in the air burned in the aftermath of a fight, lingering wisps of spellfire and disturbance wafting through the space around. All through the city of Fiachra, trace fires burned hotly, a greenish-red gas settling against the stones like mold against a foundation.


    I¡¯d need to address that later. Right now, my priority was the source of the battle that had raged across Fiachra. I approached the Doctrination Temple of East Fiachra at speed as I forced myself to move faster and faster, a quiet hope in the depths of my core that I was not too late.


    For the barest moment, I hovered over the dilapidated temple rooftop. I inhaled, a small weave of dread coursing through my veins. The levels of power that had been thrown around¨Cthat I could sense, lingering in the atmosphere¨Cwere enough to put even me on guard.


    The battle had already ended. I could only hope for the identity of the victor.


    I slowly descended through a break in the roof, scanning the wide expanse of the temple. I traced a path of battle up to the altar, where¨C


    Toren Daen leaned against the altar along the raised centerpiece of the temple, not an ounce of mana detectable from his core. His entire form was caked in blood, dirt, and cuts, the once-proud symbol of Named Blood Daen ripped to shreds over his chest. His hair had managed to escape his neat ponytail, leaving it in a wild disarray.


    But when we locked eyes, I was forcefully wrenched back to that time not a day past along the balcony of the Denoir¡¯s ball. Where this young man told me of the wonders that were beyond even Agrona Vritra¡¯s reach in entrancing detail. Of the things the High Sovereign¡¯s greedy malice could never touch.


    His eyes widened perceptibly as they held me in place. ¡°Renea?¡± he asked, the word slow and weak.


    For all I had expected and planned for this moment¨Cwhere I would eventually reveal the true face beneath my cloaking artifact to the man before me so that I might tie him to my plans¨CI found that I did not know how to respond. As Toren¡¯s burning eyes asked¨Cno, demanded¨Can answer to his question, I realized he¡¯d torn away another mask. Ripped apart another veil that kept me obscured, long before I could withdraw it when I was ready.


    Just like he had an irritating tendency to do with every single one of our interactions.


    But then he collapsed, toppling toward the altar stairs. On instinct, I blurred forward, catching his unconscious body before it could tumble down the steps. He felt strangely warm; as if his entire body were in the grips of fever, yet he showed no other signs of distress.


    Foolish woman, I chastised myself as I realized what had happened. I had not taken the time to think. You are not Renea Shorn right now. You are Seris Vritra.


    As I held the Daen man¡¯s limp body, I smothered the burgeoning vulnerability that Renea Shorn bore for him, pulling myself away from the mask. I exhaled, adopting the clinical precision I needed to perform my tasks.


    I hovered up the steps, resting Lord Daen¡¯s body on the altar. I performed a cursory inspection of his form, noting that he had no visible wounds. Only his mana was utterly depleted.


    It appears he is merely suffering from backlash, I thought, inspecting the many cuts Toren had over his clothes. The flesh underneath had presumably healed over under the effect of his orange-purple light of aether. That is good. He will be well soon.


    I turned my focus away from the young man, instead looking up at what was left of the Vicar of Plague.


    I hovered forward, feeling a pit of anger rise in my stomach as I looked over the shriveled, decrepit body. What lay before me would not have been out of place in the deepest dungeons of Taegrin Caelum. The grotesque mutilations across Mardeth¡¯s body spoke of the horrible things he had done to himself, open wounds where large boils had presumably burst littering his skin. What was once simple gray skin had been mottled with deep green, adding to his shriveled features.


    Outwardly, I displayed no sign of my irritation. I had grown far too adept at hiding that. But inwardly, I seethed.


    I did not expect him to move so soon, I thought, my eyes roving over Mardeth¡¯s mangled corpse. I predicted a much later date of attack. The groundwork I laid in this city was entirely unprepared to withstand his assault so early.


    As I¡¯d realized the Vicar of Plague¡¯s odd obsession with Toren Daen, I¡¯d begun to set up countermeasures and defenses throughout Fiachra, expecting an eventual attack. But I¡¯d been expecting an assault in a couple of months at least, not so soon. Mardeth had outmaneuvered me; outmaneuvered each piece I¡¯d set down.


    Except for one.


    A grim, dark part of myself acknowledged that the vicar¡¯s ability to evade all my plots burgeoned my anger higher than nearly anything else. The sense that I had somehow lost in this battle of minds made a deep, repressed part of myself¨Ca part I¡¯d tried to bury and condemn since the war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar¨Crise up in fury.


    My eyes settled on the instrument which had seemingly finished the vicar¡¯s machinations for good. A long horn glowed a brilliant white where it had staked through Mardeth¡¯s heart, striations of orange and purple running like veins along its surface.


    I couldn¡¯t sense anything from it. No mana flowed from that strange horn belonging to a creature I could not recognize. Yet looking at it seemed to sear my eyes, burning them in a way I couldn¡¯t describe.


    What is this? I wondered, hovering closer. I rested my hand along the base, pulling my hand back in surprise when it burned me. The flesh of my skin sizzled and smoked from where I¡¯d touched it. It reacts with my mana. No, with my blood. Fascinating.


    I frowned slightly. What have you done outside my expectations now, Lord Daen? I wondered, thinking of all the innumerable unseen variables he had caused. Like a cascading waterfall of trickle-down effects, everywhere Toren Daen stepped became a breeding ground of uncertainty.


    I grasped the horn, wrenching it free from Mardeth¡¯s body. The vicar¡¯s corpse stayed glued to the tall Vritra mosaic behind him, the skin seeming to adhere to the stones even in the absence of the stake.


    I ignored how my palms singed and darkened as I grasped the instrument, then turned around. I laid the horn over Lord Daen¡¯s chest, moving one of his hands so that his fingers grasped it tightly. After all, he had earned this, even if at the expense of so much destruction.


    As I did so, I noticed a single blemish under his shirt. I looked up toward his face, noting the pinched expression he held even while unconscious. I brushed a lock of strawberry-blonde hair from his face, tracing the scar he bore over his brow with the pad of my finger. Then I looked lower once more, inspecting the deep, jagged scar tissue that peered out over his heart. With the size of that wound, it should have been fatal, whether or not he bore a significant healing factor.


    ¡°Another mystery you force me to try and unravel, Lord Daen,¡± I said, unsure of the emotion in my chest. Excitement? Curiosity? Maybe a little fear?


    At first, I¡¯d suspected Toren to be a spy from Epheotus. After all, the readings my devices had picked up months ago indicated an asuran presence not of the basilisk. I¡¯d moved to keep a more direct eye on him using my persona of Renea Shorn, of course, but I could not have predicted the outcome of our meeting and what would come in the months after.


    Toren Daen could not be some simple imposter from the land of the gods, sent to replace a man none would miss. His actions and modus operandi were too linear to note some sort of swap, though there was a notable turning point in the aftermath of his brother¡¯s death. His actions did not make sense for those of a spy. He was too eager to put himself in harm¡¯s way; not nearly as concerned with masking his presence as his concerts attested. And he cared far, far too much for the people of his city to be a foreigner.


    I closed my eyes, remembering how he¡¯d played his violin in the midst of the storm on his first concert night. I¡¯d watched from the storm clouds above, feeling as his music resonated deeply with something inside of me.


    That scared me. How easily Toren Daen seemed to tear away my protections. But it also made something deep in my chest burn. How long had it been since someone had so effectively left me unsure and uncertain? Made every step an expanding aura of possibilities, leaving me unable to predict what would happen next?


    I picked the young man¡¯s body up, holding him in a simple carry that rested his head near my shoulder. Making sure his hand still clasped his prize, I left the temple, flying up into the night.


    I felt that indignant anger in my stomach once more as I saw the destruction of one of my cities spread out before me. After Lord Daen had left Bloodstone Elixirs in haste, I quickly realized something was wrong. I¡¯d convened with Cylrit, seeking reports that may be coming in from Fiachra before realizing the situation had deteriorated beyond expectation.


    After that unique asuran signature of Toren¡¯s had blossomed into something so powerful not even I could suppress it, I knew I needed to move. Whatever had been ravaging the City of Canals was beyond their capability to deal with.


    I flew toward the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association, the chaos below unfolding. Many stopped to look up at me in awe, dozens of unadorned men and women working in tandem with mages to put out fires, search through rubble, and maneuver around those dormant spots of red-green blithe mist.


    That was odd in and of itself: that willful cooperation between mage and unadorned. I frowned, looking down at the restless man in my arms. Even in sleep, his jaw was clenched as if to ward off a blow.


    ¡°Indeed, you are a mystery. One I cannot seem to understand,¡± I said to myself, finally reaching my destination. That, more than anything, sparked something deep in my core.


    The Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association had held against what had been reported as an onslaught of vicars seeking to spread their plague. The higher-ups of the place had quickly deduced that they couldn¡¯t send fighters out and risk them becoming contaminated and had instead opted to activate all their wards, going into lockdown procedures as battles raged outside. They¡¯d realized they couldn¡¯t let the vicars into the Relictombs, lest the plague spread out of control.


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    That had likely saved their lives. Saved the lives of everyone in Alacrya.


    I settled down on the walkway just outside the building, noting Wolfrum Redwater¨Cstill masked under the cloaking artifact to appear as the ever-vigilant Xander¨Capproaching hastily. His eyes flicked to Toren, then back to me before he bowed respectfully.


    ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± he said, looking at the ground. ¡±We¡¯ve gathered more concrete reports on the events that took place these last few hours from the staff we managed to interview. It seems that the blithe mist was once far more active, but after a recent explosion, it went dormant. How do we proceed?¡±


    ¡°First, prepare a suitable room for Lord Toren Daen to recover in,¡± I said, handing the young man¡¯s body to several rushing attendants. ¡°His victory over the Vicar of Plague has ensured that this madness will come to an end,¡± I said loudly, enough that the scrambling attendants and staff members of the Ascender¡¯s Association could hear me. ¡°But now, we must account for the aftermath.¡±


    I looked back at Wolfrum, whose eyes were still trained on the ground. ¡°Cylrit shall arrive in a matter of moments,¡± I said, referencing the Relictombs portal. ¡°Defer to him for further orders. I shall be working to staunch any further destruction.¡±


    I flew back into the sky, scanning the City of Canals. I quickly located a larger patch of corrupted blithe mist, the effect coating a large portion of West Fiachra. I flew there, calling on the soulfire inherent to my blood.


    I hovered above, noting the many bodies within. This had clearly been some sort of holdout for groups of mages, but I suspected they¡¯d been overrun. I could detect faint, corrupted mana signatures within, the blithe having tainted their cores. No longer was it active, but the people inside still lived.


    I furrowed my brow, activating one of my spellforms as I summoned domes of black light over the many bodies in a protective cover. The concentration required was absurd: I was practiced in covering myself in these layers; not other people.


    But I had failed my citizens. These people had been corrupted because of my inability to predict Mardeth¡¯s actions.


    I unleashed a torrent of soulfire toward the fog of blithe down below. I suspected it would have been more difficult to burn away were it still active, but it simply evaporated under the decaying touch of my black-purple flames. The small bubbles of black light protected the people underneath from my attack, insulating them against the weathering decay of my spell.


    When I was done, there was nothing left of the blithe. The people, however, continued to writhe and groan in abject misery. Stains of green and yellow still spotted their skin, each wracked with horrible pain.


    Many buildings had been eroded to dust by my spell, likely erasing the belongings of countless people. Yet they would survive to live another day.


    I turned in the air, noticing a woman with brown hair at the head of a contingent of many unadorned near the entrance to the plaza.


    I furrowed my brow, noting the oddity. As my attention rested on these people, they all instinctually fell to their knees, my aura¨Ceven restrained¨Cforcing them into subservience.


    I reigned in my mana signature further as I slowly descended, making eye contact with the lead woman. She bowed as well, the only mage amongst them. Yet I saw a darkness in her eyes; a mute hatred that I¡¯d seen reflected many times before.


    This one hates the Vritra, I acknowledged internally. Deeply.


    ¡°I am Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± I said coolly, hovering above the woman as she knelt, her mousy brown hair escaping her haphazard bun. I surveyed the quaking nonmages arrayed behind the woman like a troop of soldiers. ¡°I presume you have been working on relief efforts. I would have your name,¡± I ordered evenly.


    She hesitated visibly. ¡°My name is Greahd, Lady Seris,¡± she said. ¡°The mist¡­ it only tracked mages. I figured that I could rally the many unadorned of my district to assist in helping the city, my Lady.¡± Her eyes snapped to the mages far behind me.


    I nodded slowly. ¡°You shall be rewarded for your efforts, Greahd of East Fiachra,¡± I said, putting two and two together regarding the location of her home district. So many unadorned, all barely clothed?


    Greahd shuffled nervously, looking back at the many, many bowing men and women behind her. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°My Lady,¡± she stuttered, keeping her head bowed. ¡°I¨C I don¡¯t wish for reward. Only for my people to be fed and clothed.¡±


    I settled down on the cobblestones, walking forward as the woman made her request. The many people around her whimpered and curled inward on themselves as I stood not far from the kneeling Greahd.


    ¡°You are bold,¡± I acknowledged evenly. ¡°To turn down a Scythe¡¯s offer so quickly.¡±


    Foolish would be a better description, but words had as much power as any fist. Especially in the aftermath of this tragedy, I needed to be careful of how I spoke to anyone.


    Even the lowliest mage.


    Greahd shuffled uncertainly, finally seeming to recognize the weight of her words and the many, many people behind her. ¡°I apologize, Lady Seris. I¨C¡±


    ¡°It shall be done,¡± I said, waving my hand dismissively as I turned around, my mind focused on finding another pocket of blithe mist. ¡°Your people shall be cared for. In turn, you will follow in my wake as I wash away this mist. You will be responsible for tending to those left behind after the fog is lifted as I continue my path.¡± I tilted my head slightly. ¡°Am I understood?¡±


    Greahd shuddered behind me. ¡°We understand, my lady,¡± she said nervously.


    I levitated back into the sky, quickly finding another patch of mist. It had invaded and coated an absurd amount of the city, over a quarter by a cursory estimate from the sky.


    For the next several hours, I pulled on the mana in my core to wash away the devastation left by the blithe mist. I pushed myself to near exhaustion as I continued to push my spellforms, trying desperately to wash away every last bit.


    The East Fiachrans followed in my wake, pulling people from the rubble and moving bodies toward designated resting spots. Gradually, more and more people emerged to assist the nonmages as the threat was understood to have passed.


    I settled down near the banks of the Sehz River, feeling an ache in my core and a weariness in my bones from my nonstop expenditure of mana. I ignored it, looking out over the water as the sun finally began to rise.


    ¡°And still, the dawn comes,¡± I said musingly, allowing the warmth to spread across my bones. That was the greatest thing about the sun. In a world of utmost uncertainty and shifting tides, there was one thing I could count on. That the distant star would rise every morning.


    I raised my hands to the light, watching as the morning rays cast shadows as they pierced smoke and dust. The beams of happy warmth parted around my fingers as they sensed the darkness in my blood.


    I wonder if the sun is as distant as Toren says it is, I mused contemplatively, giving myself a moment to think. He seemed so confident in his statement that the great ball of fire we call our star is leagues away.


    I remembered how Lord Daen¡¯s eyes had flickered, not really looking at me when he¡¯d spoken of distant worlds and the vastness of the cosmos, but past and beyond me. Yes, he certainly believed his words.


    But the sun always felt like it was closer than that. Almost close enough to burn, but not quite. As if it took a tiny step closer, everything on this tiny sphere of rock and water would evaporate into scorched steam and molten earth.


    That¡¯s something Lord Daen certainly didn¡¯t understand, I thought, cocking my head as I watched the Sehz River, which had overflowed its banks in many places and caused nearly as much devastation as the blithe plague as sections of the canals collapsed. Even despite its apparently peaceful nature, the mighty flow had caused such devastation and destruction when pushed past what it could afford. The sun does burn. And it always will, if one strays too close.


    I was torn from my solemn musings as I felt the flash of familiar mana signatures. My head snapped to the side as I restrained my surprise from showing on my face. Could it be? How?


    Leaving my musings on the shore, I flew over the banks of the Sehz, slowly honing in on that signature. It was faint and weak, exhausted and barely past backlash. But the simmering darkness within was familiar.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to find the source.


    Caera Denoir rested on the banks of the river, two others by her prone form. She was soaked entirely in water, clearly having recently pulled herself from the water alongside her companions. She looked up at me uncomprehendingly as I approached.


    ¡°Caera, while it is always a pleasure to see you pushing yourself,¡± I said sternly, feeling a flash of worry as I took in her battered appearance. Had she been part of this defense? How did she get here? She should¡¯ve been safe in her family estate within the Relictombs, not here amidst utmost danger. ¡°It is imperative that you¨C¡±


    I cut off as the girl launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my back and hugging me tightly. She wept quiet tears as she held me, gripping me as if I were the last anchor in a raging sea.


    ¡°It was so dark, Lady Seris,¡± she muttered, but her voice didn¡¯t break. It didn¡¯t crack even once. ¡°I thought¨C I thought¨C¡±


    I looked past the girl to her companions. An unconscious girl with dark, braided hair that I distantly recognized, a single horn wrapping backward around her skull marking her as Vritra-blooded. And Sevren Denoir, who looked up at me with a scrutinizing gaze.


    He only had one arm.


    I slowly, mechanically, patted Caera¡¯s back, realizing for once that I did not know how to comfort her. I felt the instinctual urge to push my protege away, her closeness reminding me of the masks I always needed in place. Only when we were alone did I allow the cover of Scythe to fall slightly with this young woman, but we were not alone. Yet I knew placing that barrier between us would be the wrong thing to do.


    Instead, I opted for something in between. A half-shade. ¡°It seems you have a story to tell me, child,¡± I said sternly, ¡°I need you to tell me what happened here tonight. I was not made aware that you had rushed toward this city.¡±


    Caera opened her mouth to reply, but it was Sevren Denoir who spoke up. ¡°She followed me here, Lady Seris,¡± he said, meeting my eye. ¡°I discovered what the vicar was planning, and hoped to meet with a friend of mine who was also on the trail. She would not have put herself in harm¡¯s way without me. And I would not have survived, either, without her¡­ hidden talents.¡±


    Caera glanced back at her brother, blinking tiredly at his words. Then she looked down at the ground, a guilty cast on her face.


    She was forced to reveal her basilisk arts, I realized, immediately cataloging possible countermeasures in case this fact was leaked further. But the fact that Sevren pieced it together¡­


    I kept my eyes focused on the Denoir heir, seeing the meaning he silently conveyed. I nodded once, gently detaching myself from my protege.


    I¡¯d intentionally stoked Sevren¡¯s anger against the Vritra for a long, long time. And now that he¡¯d realized the secret his sister was hiding, it appeared he was looking at our past interactions in a new light.


    A very intelligent man, that one. Foolhardy to the extreme, no doubt, and with little patience for the trappings of power. But intelligent. I could harness that. Push it towards necessary ends.


    Some of my plans could probably be pushed forward a few years, especially if the young heir had truly made progress in his pursuit of aether as he had hinted to his sister.


    But once again, my thoughts were brought to the soulful Toren Daen, the centerpiece of this entire event. Every effect pulsed out with him as their center cause, a man who grew in power at an incredible rate and drew everyone into his whirlpool of influence.


    Like a star, I mused turning to observe the rising sun. And they are his planets. Pulled along by his actions.


    Yet that analogy would place me as one of those planets, too. I¡¯d have to find a better mental model, because things were not so simple.


    And I wasn¡¯t one to be swept up in another¡¯s tide.


    ¡°It seems we have even more cleaning up to do than I initially surmised,¡± I mused, looking down at the one-horned girl, who was clearly unconscious. I would need to learn her story, too. She was one of Karsien¡¯s, wasn¡¯t she? Naereni, the Young Rat. ¡°This city has been through the pits of hell. It is time we brought it some relief.¡±


    What will change next? I wondered absently, looking up at the sky. The smoke from the dying fires all around blotted out what was left of the stars.

 Chapter 151: In the Wake of the Plague

    Toren Daen


    I groaned, shifting as my consciousness pulled itself to the surface. My mind felt bleary and weak, as if I¡¯d spent the last dozen hours painstakingly studying for an exam. My thoughts were hazy and indistinct, my brain struggling to hold onto each fleeting moment. I rolled, feeling the warm sunlight against my eyelids.


    Sunlight, I thought hazily. That means it¡¯s time for me to get up. Go to class.


    I opened my eyes, feeling my body ache as I shifted. There was a gentle, lulling hum that brushed against my ears. It was a powerful, resonant thrum that seemed to seep from my ears all the way to the tips of my toes. Like the warm water from a shower that slowly trickled down an exercise-sore body, the tone that caressed my ear was soothing in a way I found difficult to ignore.


    I was in a large, sunlit room in a lavish bed. It had an almost sterile atmosphere, though that was slightly ruined by the relatively lavish furnishings throughout. It was as if the interior designer couldn¡¯t decide between a hospital room or a five-star hotel suite when laying out his plans.


    My thoughts were immediately drawn away from my surroundings and back to that effervescent hum. I automatically traced where I felt the tone emanating from, looking down at my hands.


    A long, white horn was clutched tightly in my hands. Pulsing striations of fuschia, magenta, and deep ochre radiated in tune with the rhythm in my ears. I could feel a connection between the horn and me, not unlike the puppet strings Aurora used to pilot her djinni relic.


    Memories came flooding back to the forefront of my mind, wiping away the fog of the morning in a flash of adrenaline. My frantic rush from Bloodstone Elixirs as dread, terrible realization set in. How I¡¯d barreled through the teleportation gates around Fiachra, then headed in a beeline for the most concentrated source of mana I could find.


    My breathing hitched as the memories of my fight with Mardeth replayed, each recollection speeding up as it came. The use of the Second Phase of my Phoenix Will, nearly being subsumed by Aurora¡¯s weight of experience, and the final destruction of Mardeth¡¯s crystal.


    And then our brawl in the depths of the Doctrination temple, where I¡¯d staked the wretched creature¡¯s body to the mosaic of his gods. Just as I¡¯d promised so many months ago.


    And after that¡­


    ¡°You have been asleep for some time, Toren,¡± my bond said, the Unseen World washing over my vision. She sat neatly in a nearby chair, her arms folded primly across your lap. ¡°I had some¡­ worries as to your mental state in the aftermath of the battle. But it appears as if all is in order, aside from some lingering effects.¡±


    I twisted to look at the phoenix shade, wincing as the movement made my body twinge with a dull ache. She looked the same as ever: flowing martial robes, windswept hair the color of fire, and twin suns for eyes that looked at me with a motherly cast. The hole over her translucent chest did not bleed.


    ¡°How¨C¡± I swallowed, thinking of the devastation all across my city. The many fires, raging mists of blithe, and the vicars that bore down on it. The Rats, alongside Sevren and Caera, had destroyed the source of Mardeth¡¯s power. But were they okay? What had happened afterward? ¡°I mean¨C¡±


    My throat clenched. So many questions broiled at the forefront of my mind that I found it difficult to voice a single one.


    Thankfully, Aurora seemed to understand the churning turmoil in my gut. ¡°You were unconscious for a few days, my son,¡± she said soothingly, standing and moving to the side of my bed in a silent glide. ¡°As far as I have been able to gather, the spread of that wretched monster¡¯s toxin has been staunched and destroyed. You were taken to a safe place to rest and recover in the aftermath of your fight. I believe you are currently in the Fiachran Ascender¡¯s Association.¡±


    My hands clenched tighter around the horn in my palm, the effervescent hum seeming to dim and dull as I finally recalled the dark, dark power that had approached in the wake of my battle. Of who had settled down into the temple, looking at me with deep, onyx eyes.


    I opened my mouth to speak, but the door at the far end of my room creaked open. My gaze snapped to the man who entered, a tray of food in his hands.


    Xander, the mossy-haired spy, stepped in. When he made eye contact with me, he froze for only a step, before sighing deeply. I watched him like a hawk as he slowly approached, a deep, uncomfortable silence stretching through the room like thick tar.


    Xander had always accompanied Renea as a personal bodyguard and a direct aide. But as I thought of the aftermath of my fight, where all I¡¯d known of the woman had been turned on its head, I found myself inspecting him more critically.


    His green hair¨Clike reeds¨Chad always struck me as a seaweed color. But hadn¡¯t Haedrig, Caera¡¯s alter ego, also borne similar features? Xander was certainly wearing some sort of cloaking artifact. He always had been. At first, I¡¯d simply assumed it was something similar to his employer¡¯s artifact.


    But now¡­


    Thoughts of Renea Shorn¨Cof Seris Vritra¨Cpounded against the inside of my skull like a drum. My mind flashed back to every one of our testing, teasing interactions, each cast in a new light. Questions I didn¡¯t want to voice; didn¡¯t want to ask simmered to the forefront of my mind.


    So I buried them. There were more important things I needed to ask. Needed to know. And in the long time since I¡¯d come to this world, I¡¯d grown adept at burying questions I didn¡¯t want answers to. Of compartmentalizing my thoughts away from the truly terrible realities that I may face. I could ignore my problems like no other; dismissing the glaring iron hyrax in the room with a poker face of stone.


    ¡°What happened while I was asleep?¡± I asked, my voice surprisingly steady. ¡°I remember the fires that burned. The blithe that spread through the streets, and the vicars that attacked everyone in sight.¡± I thought of the Rats once more. Xander had interacted with the Rats barely by circumstance. I felt my heartbeat pick up slightly as I pondered their fate, but I¡¯d have to discover that on my own. ¡°What can you tell me?¡±


    The green-haired man¡¯s shoulders tensed. He set down the tray of steaming food by my bedside without a word. ¡°That blithe concoction managed to infect an absurd amount of Fiachra¡¯s population. It¡¯s only been a day since the spread, so the true results aren¡¯t yet clear. But the teleportation gates in and out of the city have been put into lockdown, just in case the plague could still be active.¡± He paused. ¡°Those still alive have taken to calling it the Plaguefire Incursion.¡±


    I exhaled, then began to pull myself from the bed. My body protested each movement and my core pulsed in mute pain from my bare escape from backlash.


    But what I needed to do wasn¡¯t reliant on my mana core. My reserve of heartfire was brimming with energy, the energy I¡¯d wrenched from Mardeth¡¯s lifespan far beyond anything else I¡¯d touched.


    I lurched as I recalled what I¡¯d done to the vicar in vivid detail. How I¡¯d slowly, slowly drained him of his essential life, cannibalizing his base of existence.


    There were few things more intimate than watching as an enemy¡¯s life left their eyes in the aftermath of battle. But there was something deeply twisted about what I¡¯d subjected Mardeth to. It was akin to stabbing them deep in the throat and watching the blood leak out. I¡¯d acted in the heat of the moment; moving purely on instinct. And while it was true that mankind constantly consumed beasts for sustenance, pushing their own life further through digestion, there was something fundamentally dehumanizing in ripping another¡¯s life from them against their will.


    I¡¯d bled Mardeth like cattle.


    I rose to my feet, flexing my fingers as I processed my brutal execution of the vicar. Did I regret it? No. Would I have killed him any other way?


    Probably not. For all Mardeth had done, he¡¯d forfeited any right to be treated as a human being. As a thinking, breathing, sapient creature. He¡¯d tried to become a god, but he was lesser than simple livestock for the actions he took in the attempt.


    I pushed Mardeth from my mind, doing a rundown of my possessions. I frowned as I realized my dimension ring bore deep, melted sections where the heat of my Second Phase had presumably damaged it. I felt a flash of anxiety as I realized that the small ring¨Cwhich held every material item I cared for¨Cmight be damaged beyond repair. I could sense the barest mana fluctuation from it, but I felt hesitant to try and delve into the sub-dimensional space.


    Would my clarwood violin be safe? What about my notes on The Beginning After the End? And what of Of Mana and Minds, the book I¡¯d been annotating for so long?


    I shook my head. One thing at a time. I could worry about my dimension ring later. Right now, there were people that I needed to treat.


    I was wearing light, breathable clothing that had clearly been designed for comfort. The pajama-esque shirt and pants felt alien to me, as I¡¯d always focused on efficiency and pragmatic dress over luxury experience. I would need to find something more akin to my style before I left the building.


    ¡°Is there a hospital set up somewhere nearby?¡± I asked Xander. I looked through a nearby dresser, finding nice sets of clothes that seemed tailor-made for my measurements. Their colors, too, matched the bronze and maroon aesthetic I¡¯d fallen into wearing. ¡°A place where all the wounded and hurt from the attack went to be treated?¡±


    Xander answered frankly. ¡°Not far from West Orlaeth Street, there¡¯s a huge medical camp set up for the wounded. They¡¯ve been overrun since the Incursion with injured and people in critical condition.¡± His eyes widened as he watched me pull a shirt from the dresser. ¡°Lord Daen, you can¡¯t leave! Not right now!¡±


    I turned critical eyes to the spy, my hands clenching around the shirt in my hands. I felt those buried questions dig themselves up within my psyche, the burning feeling that I¡¯d been lied to for so long. They wrenched themselves from the ground like the undead claws of the zombies I¡¯d fought so long ago in the Relictombs.


    ¡°And what right do you have to stop me from helping my city?¡± I asked, restraining my anger. My intent.


    Xander paled, seeming to recognize the carrallian he had just poked with a stick. ¡°Not me, Lord Daen. My master. She wants you safe and healthy. She¨C¡±


    I engaged the Acquire Phase of my Phoenix Will, ignoring the clawing coldness that radiated from my core. I narrowed my eyes, pulling on my own heartfire. I felt the spy¡¯s cloaking artifact buckle and cave under the burning inspection of my power.


    I centered on the man¡¯s terrified lifeforce, grasped the signature in my mind, and then ripped his cloaking mask aside.


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    It fell apart like water, illusory particles seeping away to reveal a young man¨Cnot much older than Caera¨Cwith eyes of mismatched colors. Wary features watched me as he stumbled backward, fumbling for something at his belt.


    What was I trying to do? I asked myself absently as I pinned the spy to the floor with my gaze. Bully this man into submission because of the master he serves?


    I hissed, then turned away, allowing my Acquire Phase to sink back into the depths of my psyche. I felt lied


    to. Deceived. And I was taking that anger out on the person in front of me instead of dealing with it.


    ¡°Tell Seris that she won¡¯t stop me from helping the people in my city,¡± I ground out, looking back at the shirt in my hands. Small holes smoked in the fabric from where I¡¯d been clenching the pristine material. ¡°I failed to stop this in time. To predict this. So I¡¯m going to start making it right, regardless of her wishes.¡±


    ¡°My orders were not to stop you from helping those in Fiachra, Lord Daen,¡± a cool, even voice said from not far away. ¡°But to keep you healthy and safe, as Xander attested. With your core barely past backlash, it could not be overruled that some remnant of the blithe plague could take root while you were weakened¨Cnor that skulking vicars might seek to finish the task their leader failed to do in ending your life.¡±


    My shoulders tensed as I registered the voice. I hadn¡¯t heard it in person before, only over old recordings. I remembered watching the October Decree, listening as the Scythe of Sehz-Clar declared blithe illegal in her Dominion. As she set her sights on every peddler who distributed it, big or small.


    I turned robotically. Now that the words had caressed my ears, I realized it was a wonder I had not sensed the woman earlier. Her cloaking artifact still masked her heartfire and mana from my senses, but no longer did it alter her physical appearance.


    Scythe Seris Vritra stood in the doorway, her pearlescent locks cascading along her dark dress. Her face was a mask as it looked me up and down, though a single brow was raised in obvious appraisal.


    I stood still, like a rabbit that had been caught in a trap. For all my planning, I hadn¡¯t considered what I¡¯d do when I came face to face with a Scythe.


    Seris strode into the room with a graceful gait, her eyes flicking momentarily to the unmasked Xander. ¡°I trust that the artifact was not damaged in your¡­ unveiling?¡± she said, raising that pristine silver eyebrow a bit higher. ¡°There are very few such cloaking artifacts in my possession. I would be displeased to hear the first thing you did after your rescue was to break something.¡±


    I worked my tongue in my mouth, allowing her words to wash over me. Did I bow? Did I kneel? What was the proper show of respect? Considering how quickly Xander¨Cor whoever he was¨Cwent to a single knee, I felt that was what was expected.


    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have broken,¡± I said, a turbulent mix of emotions in my chest. ¡°It was¡­ immature of me,¡± I acknowledged, turning away from the Scythe. ¡°I apologize if I have offended you, Scythe Seris.¡±


    Seris¡¯ onyx eyes¨Cthose familiar eyes, each as deep as an ocean¨Cstayed trained on me. ¡°Xander, the attendants on the ground floor are in need of direction.¡±


    Xander did something to a pendant around his neck that I couldn¡¯t detect, and the illusion of a mossy-haired mage overlaid him once more. He nodded quickly, eyes darting between the two of us, before scurrying out the door behind his master.


    I watched him go with a deepening frown. It was only Seris and I remaining in the room.


    It suddenly occurred to me that, were this woman to try and enforce any sort of demand on me, extract any information, I would not be able to resist. From what I¡¯d sensed, even the depths of my Second Phase would not be enough to see me through a head-on battle. And right now, my mana core was practically empty.


    I didn¡¯t think she was an enemy, but¨C


    Seris floated closer to me, making me take a nervous step back. She held out a hand, gesturing to something.


    I blinked, looking down at the white horn I clutched so tightly in my hands. I didn¡¯t truly understand how Brahmos¡¯ horn had undergone this transformation, but it felt fundamentally connected to me in a way I couldn¡¯t put into words.


    All the same, I wordlessly handed the horn over to the woman in front of me. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She took it deftly, and I was shocked to see her hands begin to blacken at the touch. The thrum of the horn increased in my mind, and I felt that if I just reached out to grasp at the connection¡­


    I reached my hand out, an instinctive cry on my lips, before the Scythe shook her head. She simply hovered a ways away, inspecting the horn even as it continued to singe her skin.


    ¡°Do you remember the first day we met in this city?¡± Seris asked, her tone questioning but nonchalant.


    I swallowed the urge to swipe the horn back from the Scythe. That was the healer in me; the nurturing surgeon that couldn¡¯t stand to see others hurt. But even as her pristine, marble-colored skin darkened under some strange sort of rejection by the horn, she didn¡¯t seem to feel a lick of pain or care.


    ¡°I remember meeting Renea Shorn,¡± I said slowly, ¡°And talking with her about what could be done to push Mardeth from our gates. And why Scythe Seris could not intervene directly.¡±


    Seris turned imperceptibly, holding the horn up to the streaming sunlight that refracted through the blinds of the room. The rays of light cast strange colors over the long horn. The look of restrained curiosity and intrigue on her face was something I wouldn¡¯t soon forget.


    ¡°Renea Shorn is but a name,¡± Scythe Seris said, not turning to me. ¡°I have adopted many monikers as I move across the great board, seeking my goals and moving my own pieces. Lady Renea Shorn of Bloodstone Elixirs is not the first, and nor shall she be the last.¡±


    Seris turned to look at me. Her aura was condensed beyond what I could actively sense, yet I felt an uncomfortable urge to do something. She spoke to me as if she were still Lady Shorn and I Lord Daen.


    But that was not the case, was it? Should I kneel, as Xander did? Or avert my eyes to maintain respect?


    ¡°When you asked me if Scythe Seris were to be alerted to what happened in your district and if she would truly follow through on your principles, do you remember what Renea Shorn said in response?¡±


    I felt my breath catch, my mind flitting back to that day. On the grim walk to the Doctrination Temple with Sevren in tow, I had indeed asked that fateful question.


    ¡°I cannot speak for those so far above me,¡± she had said in response. ¡°But I would like to think that Scythe Seris would bring justice to this place, even if it were dangerous to her own self.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± I breathed, feeling something in my chest tighten at the words.


    Seris looked down at the razor-sharp point, then flipped it so that she held only the tip in blackened fingers. Dark, purple-tinged soulfire raced along her palms, the healing fire washing away every trace of injury. She held it out to me, her eyes quietly commanding.


    I stepped forward, grasping the base of the horn. If I wished, I could simply drive my palm forward, the sharpened point poised to pierce the austere Scythe¡¯s chest.


    Instead, I took the horn back, feeling as if I were adrift in a storm. Aurora held back during this conversation for reasons I could not understand, but I found myself desperately wishing for her keen insight into each sentence. Were there hidden messages here? Was I missing some sort of context due to my political inability?


    As I stepped away from the Scythe, inadvertently treating her as if she were a live bomb, I tried to find something to anchor myself. Feeling the constant thrum of the horn in my hand, I decided to use that. Hone in on it.


    But Scythe Seris¡¯ next words made me focus on her instead, an intent like a razor keeping my eyes glued to her near-perfect form.


    ¡°I failed this city, Lord Daen,¡± she said quietly, meeting my eyes. ¡°Indeed, I should have brought justice to these people. It was in my power to do so. And now we face the aftermath of one of the worst disasters in Alacrya¡¯s recent memory, all due to my inaction.¡±


    I shut my eyes, my thoughts a perfect mirror of Seris¡¯ words. I¡¯d failed these people, hadn¡¯t I? It was my duty to face the Vicar of Plague. That was my purpose in all of this, wasn¡¯t it? And I¡¯d been too late to stop his plan.


    Yet for all the blame I placed on myself, I could leverage none against the Scythe in front of me. My work to try and assist the people of East Fiachra enlightened me to the true difficulty of making this world a better place; the true complexity and aftermath each action had. During my first meeting with Renea Shorn, I¡¯d felt a restrained distaste for the woman. She had power, didn¡¯t she? So why didn¡¯t she wave her hand and use it?!


    Yet only after I¡¯d felt High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s thundering heartfire as it boomed like a death drum did I truly understand this Scythe¡¯s cautious maneuvering around the Vicar of Plague. Some part of me wanted to blame her for the utter devastation my home city had experienced. If only she had intervened sooner. If only she had slit Mardeth¡¯s throat when she had the chance inside the temple in East Fiachra months ago.


    But I saw those for what they were: projections of my personal anger onto an easy target.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t fail this city, Lady Seris,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I did. He only attacked Fiachra because it was my home.¡±


    I thought of the vicar¡¯s origins as they were revealed during the battle. He¡¯d been a slum rat, maybe not much different from Naereni, Wade, or Karsien. The uplifting of East Fiachra had been a personal affront to what he viewed as the natural order. A rejection of pain could not be allowed.


    ¡°I thought he would wait to fulfill his promises until¡­¡± My words caught in my throat. Until you were to go off to war. ¡°Until it would be easier to move against you,¡± I decided on.


    Seris moved to the wide window, pulling up the blinds so that sunlight truly streamed into the room. I winced, shielding my eyes as the change in light blinded me momentarily. She stood there quietly, standing resolute with her eyes trained on whatever was outside.


    ¡°Attend me, Lord Daen,¡± she ordered smoothly.


    I hesitantly inched closer, feeling uncertain of standing so close to the Scythe. But the target of her gaze drew my attention in turn.


    I exhaled in surprise. Dozens of buildings had been utterly obliterated all around the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association, but what took their place was far more eye-catching. Hundreds of tents dotted the area all around the Association, all in different mismatched colors as they reflected the sun. People¨Cmage and not¨Churried back and forth in a chaotic jumble that somehow maintained base cohesion. I watched as a blithe-stained man¨Cpresumably a former addict from East Fiachra¨Chelped haul a heavy crate of what I presumed were supplies alongside a mage. A contingent of young women washed bloody garments on the banks of a canal, a nearby water caster assisting in cleaning the linen bandages.


    Near the edge was Greahd, working in tandem with mages bearing Scythe Seris¡¯ personal sigil. She commanded them back and forth just as she did during her regular cookfire meetings, and surprisingly, the mages complied without a word of complaint.


    But not all was well. The nervous intent in the air was almost overwhelming, the deep, painful uncertainty of every mage made clear over the ambient mana. And even more were the cries of resonant pain I felt as men wailed. I saw people being wheeled in and out of medical tents, their injuries too distant for me to see. Others were clearly deceased, a somber cast to their movements as the bodies were carted beyond my sight.


    ¡°I made a promise to you,¡± Seris said, her eyes tracking someone as they hovered over the crowd, maintaining an iron presence that seemed to bolster the confidence of all the workers. Was that Cylrit? ¡°That whenever I sought to shift you along the great board, I would inform you beforehand.¡±


    My mouth felt suddenly dry, Aurora¡¯s words in the aftermath of that conversation ringing in my head.


    Renea Shorn moves like Agrona.


    I supposed that made a grim, ironic sort of sense now, didn¡¯t it?


    ¡°It was Renea¨CLady Shorn¨Cwho made that promise,¡± I said. ¡°I do not see how I can hold you to anything.¡±


    ¡°You hold oaths close to your heart, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said, still watching that figure in the sky. ¡°Were I to break a promise made even under guise, it would be in violation of the spirit of our agreements, would it not? And you yourself said that it was promises that separated us from beasts.¡± She glanced at me coolly from the side of her eye. ¡°I find I agree with that sentiment.¡±


    A dark, angry part of me whispered something else. Agrona doesn¡¯t lie either, does he?


    ¡°How do you wish to move me?¡± I asked at last, seeing the logical conclusion of this vein of questioning.


    Seris silently considered the anxiously milling people for a long moment. ¡°I alone am not enough to give these people a sense of hope and security,¡± she started. ¡°They have been through a hell that is difficult to pull themselves from, yet they need to rebuild and grow once more. Yet they are uncertain and terrified. What is to stop another incursion from powers as great as the Doctrination?¡±


    Are you speaking of Fiachra, I wondered absently, listening to the woman speak, Or of Alacrya as a whole?


    ¡°The people of Fiachra need something to look toward. I failed them, Lord Daen,¡± she said, focusing intently on me in a way that made goosebumps rise along my arms, ¡°Yet you did not. You were the one to end the Vicar of Plague. You were the one seen clashing with him over the streets, protecting people and keeping Mardeth from doing more harm. They call this incident the Plaguefire Incursion for this reason.¡±


    I felt my breathing slow. ¡°What is it you need me to do?¡±

 Chapter 152: A Symbol

    Toren Daen


    Seris considered me for a moment, seeming genuinely surprised by my even response. ¡°These people need a symbol, Toren Daen,¡± she eventually said. ¡°A solid foundation from which to rebuild. And there is none better than you.¡±


    I looked at the milling people as they nervously went about their tasks. Smoke still seemed to linger in the air, and at every loud sound, more than a few heads snapped to the source in fear. I found myself clenching the horn tighter.


    Did I want to be that kind of symbol? Could I even be that kind of symbol?


    I understood what the Scythe meant. When in the darkness, there was a power in rallying around a single light. That was what she was trying to create. That was what she would try to make Arthur.


    I remembered my speech to Mardeth as I flung him from the sky. The grand proclamations I¡¯d made of where I stood and who I was as I tore him apart. Of how I was the voice of the voiceless; the song for the unsung.


    But was I truly? As I stared across the broken ruins of my home, I wondered. I¡¯d failed these people. Perhaps I¡¯d slain Mardeth, but I hadn¡¯t stopped the plague. I hadn¡¯t been everything I claimed myself to be.


    My thoughts snagged on that train of thought. Karsien, Hofal, Naereni¡­ If this city needed a symbol, they were better suited.


    ¡°What of the Rats?¡± I asked numbly. ¡°Naereni, Karsien, Hofal and Wade? They¡¯ve fought for this city for longer than I ever have. Why are we¨C¡±


    A single look at Seris¡¯ stony expression told me all I needed to know. It was carefully blank, but not in the usual way. There was an almost¡­ reluctant, pitiful cast to her elegant features.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± I said, feeling my face go pale. I stumbled to the side, bracing myself against the window frame. ¡°Are they¨C are they all¨C¡±


    ¡°The Rat and his close ascending partner sacrificed themselves to give the Young Rat and your friend, Lord Denoir, a chance at the source of Mardeth¡¯s power,¡± Seris said with a solemn note to her voice. ¡°Those lucky few survived, but not unscathed. There have been¡­ complications regarding the Young Rat. Ones that even I did not anticipate.¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath shuddering. For the first time during this conversation, I felt Aurora¡¯s distinctive touch against my mind. A measuring, comforting warmth that sought to cushion me against the welling grief.


    I¡¯d made very few friends in this world by necessity. But the ones I had made were closer than any others.


    Images replayed in my mind as if on tape. Hofal¡¯s contemplative face as he puffed at a pipe, musing about some old fact of architecture surfaced in my mind. Nearby, Karsien smirked wryly, quietly mocking his friend for his unique tendencies. Yet even the Rat himself listened intently as Hofal told his stories, even adding his own unique flair with his mist and theatric mask.


    They¡¯re dead, I thought, feeling my heart constrict like a vice. If I were faster, if I had fought Mardeth sooner¨C


    Then you would have been dead, Aurora¡¯s stern yet empathetic voice cut across my thoughts like a knife. Without the assistance of your Second Phase, you would have fallen regardless. And the first entrance into that well of power is always the most dangerous. If our purpose had not been united at that moment in the street, it is likely your mind would have been consumed.


    So there was nothing else I could have done? I quietly seethed, the ambient mana warping as I struggled to maintain a grip on myself.


    Perhaps there was, Aurora allowed. Perhaps there was not. You can never truly know; not without a sure grasp of Fate. And because we do not, we will only drive ourselves to madness questioning our actions.


    I ripped my eyes away from the crowds of displaced Fiachrans as they tended to their city. Seris was quiet, giving me a modicum of time to pull my thoughts together.


    ¡°Can I talk to Naereni?¡± I asked. ¡°Please, I need to¡­¡± I trailed off. What did I need to do?


    I needed to be able to think.


    ¡°I understand your grief, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said simply. ¡°When you are ready, speak with me further.¡± The austere woman, her hair shining in the sunlight, glided back toward the door.


    She paused at the edge of the doorway. ¡°I quite enjoyed our earlier partnership,¡± she finally said, a note of something I couldn¡¯t decipher in her voice. ¡°It would be a shame if that were to be left behind.¡±


    ¡ª


    I trudged through the halls, my shoulders slumped and my mind awhirl. I felt a deep, stretching tiredness from the depths of my soul that made me want to simply lay down where I stood and sleep it all away.


    Through it all, the comforting closeness of Aurora¡¯s bond gave me something to latch onto. To pull myself forward with as if it were a rope trailing from the back of a ship.


    I trudged past a few workers as they hastily carried papers through the halls. They stalled the moment they saw me, their eyes going wide.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± one muttered under her breath, bowing slightly. The other looked like they were ready to go to one knee.


    I passed them, their words of mumbled awe flowing in one ear and out the other.


    How did you cope with death? I asked Aurora absently, thinking of Karsien and Hofal. The asura are so long-lived and wise. What can I do?


    Aurora¡¯s shade kept a comforting hand on my back as I turned a corner. ¡°We asura¡­ are not accustomed to loss,¡± she said with a quiet voice. ¡°It is rare that our kind suffers death, and it is almost always the result of a life being taken. For ones with lives so static, the sudden erasure of those close to us is not an experience we manage well.¡±


    I looked up as I reached my target room. Then this is something I must face on my own?


    Beyond the door in front of me, Naereni waited.


    ¡°I will always support you, my bond,¡± Aurora said softly. ¡°I cannot manage your pain for you, but my hand will always be there to grasp yours when you need it.¡±


    I exhaled, forcing back a stray tear. Thank you, I thought, pushing open the door.


    The room inside was as lavish as the one I¡¯d awoken in. Tall, broad windows let in copious amounts of light, and intricate wallpaper lined the walls. Naereni was sitting awkwardly in the center of the bed, her shoulder-length black hair falling in loose tresses across her face.


    She was tossing something up and down, the item flashing silver in the light. A rat¨Cpresumably one of Wade¡¯s familiars¨Cwas curled near her feet. One of her legs was wrapped in a cast.


    The Young Rat looked up as I shut the door behind me, her intelligent eyes flashing as they scanned me over.


    She smiled, but it was a weak mask. ¡°They use pure silver for their drawer handles,¡± she said, her voice small as she hefted the item in her hand. It looked like an intricate door knob. ¡°Pure silver, Toren! Imagine how much this would sell for!¡±


    I walked forward silently, sitting myself down in a chair near the bedside. Naereni¡¯s smile felt distinctly forced; a pained attempt to mirror her usual cheer. It fell quickly when I sat down, the facade melting away as the silence stretched between us.


    ¡°How did you kill him?¡± Naereni eventually asked. There was a surprising hint of deep venom in her tone that I¡¯d never heard before. ¡°Wade¡¯s been keeping an ear out. I¡¯ve heard the staff talking about you. ¡®Spellsong killed the Vicar of Plague!¡¯ they say. ¡®Ended him right inside of his own temple! Lord Daen is the one that stopped this horrible disaster!¡¯¡± The Young Rat¡¯s arms trembled as she clutched the silver doorknob tight. The rat chittered sadly by her side. ¡°Did you make it hurt?¡±


    I clasped my hands over my knees. ¡°You remembered the Oath I swore?¡± I said quietly, ¡°That I would nail Mardeth to the effigies of his false gods?¡±


    Naereni looked up at me through her bangs, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes.


    ¡°He begged for his gods in the end,¡± I whispered. The white horn that had ended Mardeth¡¯s life pulsed rhythmically at my belt. ¡°They abandoned him. Even as I staked his heart to the temple walls.¡± I paused. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t have been able to win that fight without the destruction of that crystal.¡±


    Naereni¡¯s shoulders shook as she turned away from me. ¡°The Sovereigns didn¡¯t just abandon Mardeth,¡± she said with a watery voice. ¡°Kar and Hof¡­ they stayed behind to give Boulders, One-arm, and I a chance to destroy that crystal. Without them,¡± she continued, her voice finally cracking. Tears streamed from the edges of her eyes as the dam holding them back finally burst.


    I moved closer, laying a comforting hand on the young woman¡¯s shoulder as she softly wept. I forced my own eyes closed, restraining the urge to weep as well. Karsien and Hofal had been some of my only true friends in this world. The only pillars of support that made each step worth taking.


    Naereni sniffled, her face twisting. ¡°I felt them die, Toren,¡± she said, anger pulsing through her tears. Raw, unending fury. ¡°I felt their mana snuff out. Hofal went first, but his was all at once. But Karsien¡¯s was just like his mist. Slow and drawn out. Painful.¡±


    The Young Rat¡¯s hand shifted to a pendant around her neck, one I hadn¡¯t noticed before. She grasped it, pulsing some mana into the silver necklace.


    And to my surprise, a horn fuzzed into existence as if appearing from fog. The onyx spike wrapped backward around the left side of her skull like one half of a tiara. Naereni looked at me, revealing the gruesome sight along her right temple.


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    A jagged protrusion marked where her other horn would have been. Instead, a shattered black bump marked where the horn had been wrenched free.


    My breath caught.


    ¡°I awakened something, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°But it was barely enough, even then. And when Scythe Seris came¡­ She told me I had a choice. I could go off to Taegrin Caelum to be subject to our High Sovereign¡¯s will. Or I could wear this necklace, hiding what I was. What I could do. And in turn, I could continue to help all the people of my home.¡±


    Naereni¡¯s eyes pierced my own in a way that almost made me recoil with the intensity. I¡¯d stared down the Vicar of Plague. I¡¯d matched intent with Varadoth, the Voice of the Sovereigns. And I¡¯d trained under the burning gaze of Aurora Asclepius.


    But the raging flame that surged in the Young Rat¡¯s eyes was enough to match any bonfire I could create. ¡°Hofal told me to do something before he died,¡± she whispered. ¡°His last words. He told me to tear this corrupt structure down to its uttermost stones. And he wasn¡¯t just talking about that Vritra-forsaken crystal.¡±


    I swallowed, Naereni¡¯s eyes holding mine like a vice. ¡°And what will you do?¡± I whispered, feeling goosebumps along my arms.


    She finally turned away from me, looking back at the window outside. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re with Dicathen, Toren,¡± she said at last. I opened my mouth in surprise, but the Young Rat forged on. ¡°Karsien was the first to figure it out. The single spellform you have. Your strange ability to use more magic. And all your other secrets. I wasn¡¯t so sure at first. But now I see what that means.¡±


    Naereni continued, leaving me quietly unsure. ¡°Scythe Seris said that she couldn¡¯t tell everyone about what Sevren, Caera, and I had done. She needed to quell panic and keep everyone focused elsewhere. But I know a woman planning a heist when I see one, Toren. How she kept Boulders¡¯ manifestation secret. How she¡¯s keeping mine secret. And now how she¡¯s trying to make you some sort of symbol. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s planning, but I¡¯m going to be a part of it.¡± Her eyes bored holes into me once again. ¡°Hofal won¡¯t have died in vain. His last wish is my Oath, just as those you swore.¡±


    ¡ª


    My feet carried me down the stairs of the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association. Each footfall seemed to echo as my thoughts ran like thick tar.


    The eyes of the staff followed me as I wandered toward the ground floor. Their quiet whispers haunted my steps; the reverence and bits of fear I sensed utterly alien to me.


    But there were causes worth more than my own comfort. End goals that outweighed my desire to be understood and accepted. And this city had suffered because of my presence; because of my actions.


    It was only right that I sacrificed something of my desires in turn.


    I didn¡¯t know when Cylrit¨CSeris¡¯ retainer¨Chad entered the building, but unlike the Scythe, his aura was easier to track, so that was where I would go.


    He¡¯s powerful, I thought absently. I¡¯d grown adept at piecing apart mana signatures and subconsciously divining deeper strength in tandem with hiding my own, and though I was still a ways away from the Retainer, I couldn¡¯t discern the depths of his strength. Certainly stronger than me, even in my First Phase.


    Cylrit was speaking curtly to Xander, sternly directing him toward another group of administrators who stood at a respectful distance, keeping their heads down in the presence of the Retainer.


    TurtleMe¡¯s description of Cylrit did not do him justice. I distinctly remembered Seris¡¯ Retainer being described as something from ¡°a maiden¡¯s dream,¡± but reading words from a page and seeing a live depiction were two entirely different experiences.


    I¡¯d never been one to be insecure in my looks, and as I progressed in core level and strength, I¡¯d conservatively call myself quite handsome. But Cylrit looked like an amalgamation of every single male model I¡¯d seen in my previous life.


    He had short, dark hair that contrasted his ivory skin, with twin horns jutting up from above his pointed ears. A jawline as sharp as any blade was further enhanced by his jet-black metal armor, which was adorned with a long, greyish cape. Scarlet eyes watched everything with a modicum of detached presence.


    I frowned, immediately disliking him. And from how his cool, impassive gaze flickered over to me, I could feel the same emotion barely radiating over his intent.


    ¡°Retainer Cylrit,¡± I greeted tiredly, striding into the empty space between the Vritra-blooded man and the many nervous attendants. ¡°Could you lead me to your Scythe? I have an answer for Seris now.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You speak my master¡¯s name too freely, Spellsong,¡± he said brusquely, his intent warping slightly at the perceived disrespect. ¡°She is as much your Scythe as she is mine.¡±


    I brushed the suffocating air aside. ¡°Scythe Seris, then,¡± I snapped back, still feeling drained from my conversation with Naereni.


    Cylrit held my tired gaze for a moment, his expression unchanging, before turning around. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    ¡ª


    The silence that stretched between the Retainer and me was deafening. His armor barely made a sound as he moved with the practiced efficiency of a warrior, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back. The resounding echo of metal steps on stone was the only sound that I could hear as we slowly walked toward a clandestine meeting.


    Cylrit opened the door to a familiarly lavish meeting room. Inside, swathes of natural light coated every surface. Outside, the sun rose high in the sky, smiling down on every place its light could reach.


    I couldn¡¯t pinpoint how that made me feel. Should I be angry that the sun shone now, when everything was so dark?


    Scythe Seris was preparing two familiar teacups, the porcelain flashing in the sunlight. Nearby, a large kettle sat unbothered.


    The Scythe turned near-perfect eyes toward us as we entered, not pausing as she gently dropped shavings of red leaves into a strainer over each cup.


    Cylrit stood ramrod straight, then bowed deeply in a gesture of respect. My eyes flicked to him uncertainly, then back to the leader of Sehz-Clar. Her eyes commanded me quietly, imploring me to do something.


    I opted to nod, bowing only slightly. I still felt uncertain of how to treat the Scythe: follow protocol? Or speak to her as she spoke to me?


    But bowing; kneeling? It rankled something deeply inside of me. It scratched at an open sore I didn¡¯t know existed.


    To my credit, Seris simply tilted her head, the rays of shifting light causing her silver locks to take on a more pearlescent undertone. ¡°Have you had time to think, Lord Daen?¡± she asked, her eyes silently commanding me toward a nearby plush chair.


    I robotically followed her quiet order, moving to stand beside the chair. Behind me, I sensed as Cylrit unfolded his bow, his unchanging scarlet eyes staying focused intently on our interaction.


    ¡°I have,¡± I acknowledged, but didn¡¯t yet sit. The Scythe herself had opted to remain standing as she carefully maneuvered the Redwater tea leaves through the cup.


    Seris¡¯ eyes slowly shifted toward the teakettle, then imploringly back to me. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I exhaled through my nose, reaching out with my telekinesis emblem. The kettle slowly hovered into the air, before a puff of flame sputtered into existence underneath it.


    The edges of the Scythes¡¯ lips curled up imperceptibly.


    ¡°Feel free to sit, Lord Daen,¡± the silver-haired beauty said, settling herself down into her plush, highbacked chair. ¡°You¡¯ve hardly been out of backlash for several hours. I would be an ungracious host to force you into something so uncomfortable.¡±


    I did as she allowed, sinking into the soft cushions. I felt tense in a way I¡¯d rarely experienced, and I could not tell if it was due to the close presence of the powerful Scythe or the understanding of what I was going to do.


    My focus darted to the teacups the Scythe set between us on a low table. The sound of flickering fire was all that echoed throughout the room.


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell if drinking a cup of Redwater Blend is insensitive or appropriate considering the circumstances,¡± I said, referencing the mana-laden tea that the Scythe was preparing. It was the same kind I had drunk several months back with Renea Shorn as we met to discuss my concerts. Renea¨CSeris¨Chad explained to me that the leaves were nurtured along the coast of the Redwater, gaining enhanced properties in the process.


    Seris crossed one leg over the other, her dark dress shifting as she settled into a relaxed, almost imperial posture in the tall-backed chair. ¡°Those things are not always mutually exclusive,¡± she said. ¡°What we view as socially acceptable is merely a function of perception.¡±


    Through perception, power is leveraged. And through power, self is enforced, I thought darkly, the Second Doctrine rattling around in my head like an irritating itch.


    The water began to boil. Wordlessly, I snuffed out the flame underneath, hovering the kettle toward the cups between us.


    Except in the barest instant I¡¯d diverted focus toward the kettle, one of the small porcelain teacups had vanished. My eyes tracked up, noting Seris inspecting the leaves inside, her pristine, delicate fingers wrapping the cup gently. I hadn¡¯t been able to sense her taking it. Hadn¡¯t been able to detect her movement at all.


    She looked up to me, then held the cup out in quiet command.


    Feeling dreadfully uncertain, I allowed the telekinetically controlled kettle to tip forward, pouring boiling-hot water into her cup. I quickly followed suit with mine, my hands clenching over my lap.


    ¡°You do not appear angry, Lord Daen,¡± Seris eventually said, swishing her cup to allow the tea leaves to fully spread along the strainer. ¡°In the wake of discovering my true identity, many have felt betrayed, used, and led along as a puppet. Yet you are unerringly calm.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, averting my gaze from the Scythe¡¯s piercing stare. I centered myself by counting the patterns along the wallpaper, allowing my thoughts to come more clearly.


    ¡°We all have our masks,¡± I replied evasively. I looked back at the tea in my hands, watching as streams of red slowly seeped through the clear, hot water. Like blood soaking through a white cloth. ¡°I haven¡¯t been honest with you, either,¡± I said, feeling another flash of discomfort. I seemed to feel that emotion more and more every time I interacted with the woman across from me. ¡°It would be hypocritical of me to cast stones from a glass house.¡±


    ¡°Cast stones from a glass house,¡± Seris echoed across from me. I refused to meet her gaze, and I felt Cylrit¡¯s distrust from a mile away. ¡°Another apt saying I must take from you.¡±


    The Scythe slowly removed her strainer from her tea, setting it to the side. The quiet clink of the metal mesh on the porcelain spoonrest seemed to echo like a gong.


    ¡°And why do you claim your house is made of glass, Toren Daen?¡± Seris finally asked, shifting so her chin was supported by her delicate alabaster fingers. Her look was terrifyingly curious and contemplative. ¡°You have so readily stripped me of my masks, and yet I know so little of you.¡±


    I realized belatedly that I hadn¡¯t taken a breath in a long time. I forced myself to inhale evenly, then exhale my stress.


    I tapped my fingers along my leg. What did I say in response? Seris had seen a great deal of my abilities. My Phoenix Will, my rapid rise in strength and power, and even Aurora¡¯s Relic. And while I assumed she was working against the High Sovereign, that did not mean she would not offer me up if it ensured her covert rebellion would eventually succeed.


    Didn¡¯t Seris Vritra tell Agrona of Grey¡¯s survival? I thought suddenly, feeling a spike of true fear. And if she¡¯s reported anything of me to Agrona¨C


    My spiraling worries were cut through by the sound of the Scythe sipping at her tea, the sound¨Cso human¨Cshearing through my train of thought like a sword through paper.


    ¡°It is not anger you feel,¡± she mused. ¡°It is fear.¡± She leaned back into her chair, seeming quietly satisfied for some reason I couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°Considering how little you bow and scrape, it is quite surprising that you should be afraid of me. I think I should be offended.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I interrupted, my hands tapping along my knees. ¡°It is not you that I fear,¡± I blurted, my mouth working faster than my mind.


    Seris lowered her cup of tea ever-so-slowly. ¡°I see,¡± was all she said.


    I felt the urge to punch myself at the blatant admission. I wasn¡¯t the best at political conversations, and for some godforsaken reason, Aurora was distancing herself from me during my conversations with the Scythe.


    ¡°You came here because you reached a decision on what is required of you, yes?¡± Seris finally said, making my tensed shoulders slump with quiet relief.


    I looked back toward the tall windows, seeing the rescue and disaster protocol efforts outside once more. My thoughts drifted back to Naereni and her grim, self-sacrificial determination. ¡°I can be what these people need,¡± I said quietly, my hands tensing perceptibly over my teacup. I hadn¡¯t taken a single sip. ¡°I can be a symbol for them. A sort of rallying light. But only this once.¡±


    I watched as the red seemed to deepen within the teacup. I was going to kill Nico Sever, and once I completed the act, what would come after?


    I found that I did not know. But the chances that my actions would splash back onto those I cared for were too high. That was what had just happened with Mardeth, after all. Those I held close were burned for living in this city.


    ¡°I live in a glass house, Scythe Seris,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°And there are fires hot enough to burn even glass.¡±

 Chapter 153: A Speech

    Seris Vritra


    Toren Daen left the room shortly after his decision had been voiced. He nodded to Cylrit once, citing a need to prepare himself for what I¡¯d proposed afterward.


    My ever-vigilant Retainer approached quietly, standing near the chair where I still sat. I could sense his unease and uncertainty; his quiet question.


    ¡°You wish to speak your mind, Cylrit?¡± I asked, giving silent permission.


    ¡°Pardon me for the arrogance of my question,¡± my Retainer said, ¡°But why focus so much on this human? He is dangerous. His secrets are dangerous, and they threaten the foundation of all you have worked so hard for.¡± He looked where Lord Daen had exited. ¡°You yourself acknowledged that your first assumption was that he was a spy from Epheotus. And then again, you confided that you assumed him connected to that phoenix that was recently slain in the High Sovereign¡¯s dungeons.¡±


    I sipped at my tea, then felt a twinge of disappointment. It had cooled in the time I¡¯d spoken with Toren, and without his handy freeform spell formation¨Cthe Dicathian way, of course¨Cit would not be hot again any time soon.


    I set the teacup down. ¡°Your contentions are valid,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°And while I did inform our High Sovereign that I was keeping an eye on an undercover agent from Epheotus, we both know that Toren Daen can not be a spy.¡±


    I felt my thoughts drift toward my undercover agents and all they¡¯d uncovered. One of Toren¡¯s ascending partners from the Unblooded Party, a sentry named Alandra, had given a vivid account of their trials and tribulations throughout the tombs, though it had taken a sizable purchase of expensive alcohol to draw the story from her reluctant lips.


    The Unblooded Party had been trapped in the worst convergence zone they¡¯d ever experienced, with little to no chance of escape.


    Until Toren Daen entered the level. Only with his intervention did they manage to navigate through an endless city of steel, glass, and undead toward a final push to the exit.


    And afterward, their leader¨CDarrin Ordin¨Chad beaten Toren with his fists, blaming him for the existence of the zone. Alandra had lamented that Toren didn¡¯t deserve such a treatment. It was only through his actions that they¡¯d all escaped, after all.


    Except in the aftermath, Toren still allowed himself to bear a scar from said beating. And what was it that he had said to Lord Patamoor?


    ¡°In the process of earning this scar, I realized that every scar Darrin Ordin left in his wake was deserved.¡±


    After that event, Sevren Denoir¨Cwhose sole obsession was aether and the workings of the Relictombs¨Chad clung to the young Lord Daen like a bodyguard, snapping his jaws at any that dared edge too close like an overprotective hound. What did that say about the truth of the matter?


    The puzzle pieces fit together snugly.


    ¡°Toren Daen is one of the most honest people I have ever met,¡± I said, voicing my thoughts as they came to me. I kept a finger under my jaw as I contemplated this puzzle. ¡°I suspect this is partially due to the nature of his intent-based music. He cannot afford subterfuge or any sort of lie to so fully project his own emotion.¡±


    Unlike Sovereign Orlaeth,


    I thought darkly. I¡¯d been able to quickly deduce the nature of Toren¡¯s empathic abilities when I¡¯d met him. After all, I¡¯d danced around one with a sight far deeper than Toren¡¯s emotional probing for decades.


    I preferred not to think of Sovereign Orlaeth for too long. Too long, and I¡¯d remember the darkness of Taegrin Caelum¡¯s dungeons where I¡¯d been raised.


    So instead, I flashed back to the first time I¡¯d heard his music in the depths of the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. He¡¯d been alone, the only stabilizing anchor for a little girl who had been through hell. And as he sang her a lullaby from the depths of his soul, I¡¯d felt something in my heart surge in response.


    Was that not my goal? To alleviate the suffering of every child under the yoke of our High Sovereign?


    I felt my lips curl up slightly at the memories. ¡°Even when he hides the truth, as he did today when I pressured him regarding his secrets, he does so with painfully obvious tells. It is as if his nature is incompatible with dishonesty.¡±


    Besides, I had a modicum of an idea as to the source of Toren¡¯s secrets. Nearly a year ago now, quiet rumors spread from the dungeons of Taegrin Caelum. A prisoner Agrona had long kept leashed¨Ca phoenix of an unnamed clan¨Chad died a gruesome end. They were relatively minor rumors. After all, the Lord of the Vritra kept many, many asuran prisoners over the years. It was not uncommon for them to expire in the wake of an experiment, different concoctions, tests, and cruel methods wearing away their lives.


    I could not explain how, but my instincts told me that this was crucial in some way I did not understand. Toren was linked to that rumor in a way I didn¡¯t quite see.


    I felt as my mind whirled with possibilities and my blood churned at the challenge. Few things engaged me quite like a wondrous puzzle.


    I slowly stood, looking at my Retainer. ¡°In the end, actions speak far louder than words, Cylrit,¡± I said, moving to the window. ¡°And perhaps the secrets that Toren Daen bears are beyond dangerous. But we will never move forward without many, many risks.¡±


    Cylrit looked out at the weary people of Fiachra far below. His mask of indifference cracked slightly, his voice unsure. ¡°Can Spellsong truly do anything to ease this city?¡± he said. ¡°I saw the aftermath when we first arrived. It was as if a raging typhoon of plague had swept everything away. Even now, we keep the teleportation gates on lockdown and are forced to draw water from reserves for fear of the Sehz being contaminated. This cannot continue for long.¡±


    I moved to Cylrit¡¯s side, looking down at the exhausted populace. Many, even those who had not been directly injured in the event, bore signs of battleshock. The death toll was already absurdly high, easily in the thousands so far. And not all people had yet been accounted for.


    ¡°One of the lessons that Toren Daen has taught me is the power of community,¡± I said. ¡°A hundred men and women cannot hope to scratch the hems of an asura¡¯s robe. A hundred people apart cannot hope to weather a storm cast by an asura, either. But should that small hundred gather together, then they can weather any injustice. They can roll with each blow, so long as there is hope for something better.¡±


    ¡ª


    Several hours later, I quietly left the gates of the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association. Behind me, Lord Daen walked like a soldier, with no visible trace of his earlier exhaustion. He followed in my wake as I cut a line through the large crowd of refugees.


    As people noticed us, they moved out of the way, bowing and murmuring. My ears picked up a dozen different words. ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± some said. ¡°Spellsong¡± and ¡°Daen¡± were regular utterances. I¡¯d long grown into reverent respect and fear afforded to me by nearly every man and woman in Alacrya, but from the set of Torens¡¯ shoulders¨Cas if he were marching off to battle¨CI reckoned he was not.


    As we continued to walk along the street, disheveled attendants set down their clipboards. Washerwomen, earlier so intent on wringing blood from their rags into the mighty Sehz, paused in their actions, instead joining the growing crowd as they trailed after us. Men hefting chunks of rubble quietly set down their loads, their deep-set haunted eyes joining the hundreds that sensed the change in the air.


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    I kept my gaze impassive as I walked, my hands clasped in front of my stomach. With every step I set forward, a path opened before me. As Lord Daen and I continued forward, that opening closed behind us as the people followed.


    I saw that staunch East Fiachran woman, Greahd, at the head of her contingent of workers. They set down their bowls from where they were cultivating a stew en masse, instead joining us on our silent march.


    The steps of a thousand survivors followed in our wake, seeming to match my own noiseless footfalls.


    They needed answers. They needed direction. And so they fell into my step, expecting those answers; that purpose.


    As I reached the main thoroughfare of the Sehz River, I finally stopped. The wide channel¨Can undeniable artery for this City of Canals¨Chad overflowed and flooded in many places throughout the city. From what I¡¯d been able to gather, many of the tunnels that the twisting canals threaded through had collapsed under the attacks of the vicars, forcing these vessels of life to overflow and cause even more destruction.


    Such an ironic twist, I thought, my eyes tracing the river to the walls far away. That these lifegiving streams could be used for such utter destruction.


    It was always simpler to destroy rather than create. The Plaguefire Incursion lasted barely an entire night, and its effects would be felt by the stalwart citizens of Fiachra for decades to come.


    And that is where I failed, I thought, looking at the slow-moving river. I expected Mardeth to think like me. To act like me, with a long-term goal in mind.


    I banished those thoughts from my head, instead engaging my core. The ambient mana moved and twisted as I exerted influence over it, gradually rising into the air on unseen currents.


    I looked down at the gathered crowd. Thousands of eyes stared up at me, silently imploring as I kept my power leashed.


    Beyond wishing to keep my emotions and deepest intent masked from Lord Daen, flexing my magical might would do nothing but terrify these waiting people. There were so many problems solved better through the application of mind over mana.


    ¡°People of Fiachra,¡± I said coolly, my voice echoing out over the large crowd. ¡°For these past several days, you have reeled in the wake of disaster. You watched as your home was overrun by a rogue sect of the Doctrination, those you loved brutalized and broken by plague. You saw the mages you deemed strong being subsumed by this horrible fate, turned into wretched batteries for a monster. A monster named Mardeth, the Vicar of Plague.¡±


    I turned to observe the crowd. They shuffled uncertainly, some weeping anew as I pulled on their memories. Others glared at the ground, clenching their fists in quiet expression of powerlessness. Most averted their eyes from me in fear, the quiet indoctrination of their lives forcing their chins to lower in instinctual subservience as my gaze swept over them.


    They fear me, I thought solemnly. As I¡¯ve always pushed for. As is necessary for me to remain in power.


    But there was one who didn¡¯t fear me. One who did not seem to care for the stations Alacryan society should have engrained into him from birth.


    ¡°But then it was over. In a flash of white fire that split the night sky, no longer did that horrible mist seek your mothers. Your brothers; your sisters. Your lovers and your children. Mardeth was dead. Slain in direct combat for the soul of Fiachra.¡±


    I turned my head slightly down, quietly signaling the young head of Named Blood Daen. He closed his eyes, visibly taking a deep breath, before opening them once more. Half a dozen white spots of churning mana appeared around him like stilts, before he slowly rose into the sky.


    I allowed myself to lower slightly, putting myself slightly behind Toren to allow him center stage. Whereas so many averted their eyes in fear under my own gaze, the crowd seemed poised to surge forward as the one they dubbed Spellsong hovered before their eyes. Muttering and quiet prayers to the Vritra peppered the entire crowd as an uncertain wave traveled through them all.


    Many now looked up without hidden terror, their quiet questions roiling underneath the surface. No longer was my silent pressure forcing them to stay quiet. Here was a man who was one of them. Who could understand them.


    I could not see Toren¡¯s face as he scanned the crowd. He took a deep breath and then began to speak. ¡°All of you have been taught of the Second Doctrine at some point in your lives,¡± he said, his voice echoing out further under the effect of his sound spell. He snorted lightly. ¡°Through perception, power is leveraged. And through power, self is enforced,¡± he said with the air of quotation.


    Toren looked down at his hands. ¡°Perhaps there is a modicum of truth in that Doctrine,¡± he muttered. ¡°That one can only grasp their future through strength. Strength to ensure peace. Strength to ensure safety. But even the highest of vicars forgets something in their act of preaching.¡±


    ¡°I killed the Vicar of Plague,¡± Toren said, hovering a bit higher. ¡°It was through personal strength. We met blades, and I proved his better. I left a broken husk in my wake. But all I did was put down a rabid dog.¡±


    The Daen man¡¯s hands clenched. ¡°But what did I accomplish?!¡± he yelled, sounding suddenly angry. The crowd flinched back almost as one with the outburst, the mana around him warping. ¡°I ended a threat! Proved myself through power! But that was not enough, was it? That personal strength that the vicars hold above all else? It did not stop our canals from overflowing! It did not stop the plague from spreading! It did not stop those I loved from sacrificing themselves!¡±


    ¡°But do you know what this city has proved in the wake of this disaster?¡± Toren demanded, his arm snapping to the side. ¡°That no matter how powerful one person may grow, it is not enough! I did not sift through the rubble to pull my neighbors from their collapsed homes! I did not swim through the flood to bring my daughter to shore! I did not brave the plague to help my fellow Fiachrans!¡±


    Toren gestured with his hand as his voice quieted, the ire draining from his tone. ¡°Every single one of you did,¡± he said simply. The quiet of a grave settled over the crowd as Toren lowered slightly in the sky. ¡°If the Second Doctrine were all this city lived by, I would have killed Mardeth and been left with an empty home. But it is not. Every single one of you showed strength greater than anything Mardeth or his rabid vicars could understand. They only understood the strong crushing the weak. But you?¡±


    The crowd of thousands resonated with an unseen force, pulled along by the words this mage said. How many times had they simply been told that they were worthless because of their low strength? How many of the nonmages among them had been ridiculed all their lives for their lack of strength?


    I could hear the tired smirk in Toren¡¯s voice. ¡°Mage and nonmage worked together, and you refused to be crushed. When you were faced with a storm, you all braced against it together. And while this tragedy will stay with us long into the future, take solace in the fact that you can do something about it. That you¨Cwe¨Care not weak.¡±


    As Toren¡¯s words settled, someone shouted out into the din. ¡°For Fiachra!¡±


    A dozen more picked up the chorus after. The grief was not banished from their eyes. No, a raging fury still surged in the faces of those who had lost their loved ones. But no longer was it directionless.


    ¡°Fiachra! Fiachra! Fiachra,¡± the chant continued, spreading exponentially through the milling people even as Toren and I lowered back toward the ground. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I watched as the young man stepped with purpose into the crowd, making a beeline for the medical tents. He took up the chant, leveraging his magic to make every voice echo with a sound like thunder. Some of the voices were wracked with grief. Others blazed with fiery anger. And still, more didn¡¯t seem to know where this would take them.


    I felt a smile stretch over my lips as I watched Toren go, the people managing to completely forget about my presence for this barest instant.


    ¡°Through perception, power is leveraged,¡± I whispered, the sound drowned out by the hundreds of people crying their shared experience to the world above. The perception of the people had been changed. No longer was it only a tragedy they had endured. It was a tragedy they¡¯d endured together. This speech had not banished their grief or washed away their blame. But it had done something just as important.


    I closed my eyes, feeling the warm sunlight caressing my skin.


    This is what my cause has always been missing, I thought absently, feeling as the breeze carried chants and cries from a city decimated by malevolent plague. A voice for the people. One who is truly of them.


    I would have to alter my plans. Toren wished to be used as a symbol only one time. But there were loopholes I could exploit to push him as I needed; manipulate his place on the great board.


    Because Spellsong brought unity, connecting the hearts of the scattered and tragedy-stricken.

 Chapter 154: A Mothers Burden

    Sevren Denoir


    It should have been impossible. I absorbed all that I saw with rapt eyes, trying to find some sort of deception. Some sort of trickery involved that could cause an illusion of unity.


    But there was none. The same could be said for the preceding days I¡¯d seen similar acts of unity and a lack of care for social status. For the blood that ran through each other¡¯s veins.


    I watched as Toren was swallowed back up by the crowd, the deafening chant of ¡°Fiachra! Fiachra! Fiachra¡± rattling every stone nearby down to their foundations. The waters of the canals themselves resonated with each drumbeat, a collective outpour of every emotion running through the city.


    I¡¯d disavowed Toren¡¯s goal. I told him that it couldn¡¯t be done; that highbloods would never risk mingling with the lower class of Alacrya. But for the past several days, that was all I had seen.


    I¡¯d spotted a few highbloods who tried to cling to their status, deeming their hands unfit to dig through rubble or carry supplies to and from the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association.


    But those were few and far between. I had the feeling that they would be remembered, and not in the way they desired.


    Caera watched the tumultuous mass of people by my side, a pinched frown on her face. My sister had awoken before me, and when I¡¯d felt the need to sneak out of our quarters in the Association, she¡¯d offered to join me.


    I supposed I¡¯d instilled a healthy disdain for authority in her. The thought made me swell a bit with pride inside.


    ¡°It¡¯s still difficult to comprehend,¡± she said absently, her navy hair shadowing her face. ¡°Everything that happened. It came so fast. So sudden.¡± My sister huffed. ¡°I mean, half a week ago I was twiddling my thumbs in my room. And now, I feel like I¡¯m watching history. Taking part in history. It¡¯s strange, Sevren.¡± She looked at me oddly through her midnight blue hair. ¡°Is this what you¡¯ve been doing without me?¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Making history?¡±


    ¡°Or being a part of it,¡± Caera added.


    I worked my jaw, thinking of Renton Morthelm¡¯s sacrificial charge toward the vicars. Without his actions, I wasn¡¯t sure Naereni and I would have made it to the Joan Estate. I¡¯d only recently learned the man had survived, but his legs had been paralyzed, and he¡¯d pierced his own mana core when the plague eventually reached his veins.


    ¡°There is history known to all,¡± I said absently. ¡°And some things that others may never know.¡± I smiled slightly, nudging my sister¡¯s shoulder with my own. ¡°I¡¯ve been taking part in both. Feeling jealous?¡±


    Caera scoffed, her cheeks flushing slightly at my teasing. ¡°Only that you¡¯ve been doing this without me,¡± she said. Her eyes flicked to where my right arm used to be. ¡°It seems¡­ exciting at the best of times.¡±


    My smirk fell slightly. I opened my mouth to say something, but then the majority of the crowd moved away from the Sehz.


    I spotted Seris Vritra¡¯s contented¨Calmost fond expression¨Cas she watched Toren go. She seemed to sense my attention after a moment, though, because she turned sharp eyes toward me. And when those eyes spotted Caera, they became very visibly discontented.


    Caera froze, looking like a rat caught in a trap. ¡°I, uh,¡± she said, looking between Seris and myself. ¡°I should probably go. I wasn¡¯t supposed to sneak out.¡±


    My sister gave me a quick hug, then darted off toward her mentor with nervous steps. As she did so, the Scythe of Sehz-Clar bored into me with her eyes, silently peeling apart my secrets layer by layer.


    My mind flashed back to what Caera had told me in the wake of our escape from the Joans¡¯ underground estate. Just after we¡¯d hauled Naereni¡¯s limp body to shore.


    ¡°I awakened years ago,¡± she¡¯d explained, deactivating a pendant around her neck to reveal a twin set of horns. ¡°And Scythe Seris gave me a choice. I could go to Taegrin Caelum to be experimented on, poked, and prodded at until I developed further as a mage, or I could keep my manifestation a secret, training under her regularly.¡±


    Part of me thought the Scythe was trying to create some sort of private army of Vritra-blooded mages, especially after I next saw Naereni. She¡¯d been asleep, but no horn was visible on her head. But after seeing this intentional political play, where she essentially promoted a man who actively damaged the Doctrination¡¯s powerbase as some sort of folk hero¡­


    Seris turned to Caera as she reached her, my navy-haired sister visibly apologizing and trying to explain her absence from the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association. The Scythe watched it all impassively, saying something I couldn¡¯t hear as she turned back toward the Association, Caera following meekly in tow.


    But then I spotted another figure, this one hooded with features shadowed from my sight.


    My blood ran cold as the figure retreated, something in my blood telling me to follow.


    I engaged Dictate of Mass, blurring toward their retreating figure. The figure slowed down as they turned a corner into an alleyway, the ground coated in water from a nearby flooded canal.


    I whipped around the corner, already searching in my dimension ring for some sort of weapon. If they were¨C


    I froze, water splashing in slow motion as I saw the face of my target. They¡¯d turned to face the alleyway entrance, lowering their hood in a methodic act.


    Their long, brilliant white hair reflected the sunlight above, a stark mirror of mine. I stared into familiar eyes, feeling some part of my blood freeze to ice.


    I clenched a single fist. ¡°Mother,¡± I said, restraining my anger. ¡°How are you here?¡±


    The teleportation gates had been locked down days ago, and the gates barred against visitors. The entire city was in quarantine. And if my mother had breached that quarantine¡­


    Lenora Denoir¡¯s eyes flicked to my empty sleeve, then back to my face. An expression of steel washed over her normally faux-sympathetic mask. Belatedly, it occurred to me that I should have done something to hide the gaping hole where my right arm used to be.


    ¡°Highblood Denoir¡¯s contacts are large and varied, son,¡± she said with a clipped tone. ¡°Even extending to tempus warps in many cities.¡±


    I scoffed, feeling my shoulders hunch as if I were a razor grimalkin preparing to attack. ¡°This entire city is in quarantine, Mother. Your rash actions risk spreading the plague all over Alacrya.¡±


    ¡°I am prepared to submit myself to quarantine after this,¡± she said, her voice irritatingly calm. She focused once more on my empty sleeve. ¡°And what would you have me do, Sevren? After I received reports that Fiachra had been struck with Alacrya¡¯s worst disaster in half a century and that my son and daughter were running around in the interim, seen rushing to fight the Vicar of Plague himself! What would you have me do? How else can I ever get a chance to talk to you but when you yourself are trapped in quarantine?¡±


    ¡°Mardeth is dead,¡± I said angrily, ignoring the rest of my mother¡¯s words. ¡°The Plaguefire Incursion ended days ago.¡±


    ¡°Ended by your friend, Toren Daen. Spellsong, they¡¯re calling him now. You sent him to our estate to avoid going there yourself, did you not? Because of how you hurt yourself.¡±


    I turned around, shutting out my mother¡¯s words out of my mind. I stalked away through the puddles of water, forcefully banishing the inevitable repercussions of my family learning of my crippling injury. There were still things I needed to do.


    ¡°Are you going to shut this out, too?¡± my mother called after me. ¡°Will you keep avoiding pain?¡±


    My thoughts flashed to the words Toren had told me not long ago. Of how I couldn¡¯t lock myself away, ignoring everything outside. Of how I would let all my relationships crumble to dust.


    I didn¡¯t know why, but those thoughts only served to make me even angrier. I whirled on my foot, my palm bleeding from how hard I clenched my fist. I stomped back through the water, my mana fluctuating in my core as I strode back toward Lenora Denoir.


    ¡°You know why I avoid you?!¡± I snarled. ¡°Why I hate everything you do? Because I know if I dared to set my feet back in that estate, you¡¯ll sink your claws into me, ripping and tearing everything I am to shreds until only puppet strings are left.¡±


    My mother shuffled backward, seeming to feel a modicum of fear for the first time. I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Just like you¡¯ve done with Caera! I refuse to be a bird trapped in a cage; to be toyed with and maneuvered like a piece on a board. I won¡¯t become another Abigale!¡±


    My head rocked to the side with inhuman force as my mother slapped me with mana-enforced strength. I blinked, stars and confusion muddying my thoughts.


    Lenora looked at me, tears gathering at the edges of her vision. ¡°How dare you!¡± she seethed, her normally even voice cracking as she bared her teeth. ¡°You don¡¯t even know! You never even dared to ask! All you have are assumptions, yet you spit on her sacrifice, using it to separate our family!¡±


    My world suddenly came back into focus. Her sacrifice?


    ¡°Of course, you wouldn¡¯t know this, Sevren, because you thought yourself beyond us. Thought we weren¡¯t even worth the question. But do you know why Abigale was taken away that day?¡±


    My head slowly, mechanically, turned back to my mother.


    ¡°Every few generations, our High Sovereign sends envoys to take someone from the households of Alacrya¡¯s highblood families. The occurrence is sparse enough that rebellion does not ferment, instead constituting fear. But our spies are thorough. Sometimes, they¡¯re too thorough. We discovered early who was to be taken next. Do you know who was next on that list that fateful year?!¡±


    I took a single step back, feeling my eyes widen and my heart pound against my ribcage.


    ¡°Abigale knew. We sat, Sevren, we sat and talked. Decided, together!¡± Tears streaked down the edges of my mother¡¯s cheeks, the drops splashing into the floodwater below her cloak. ¡°She offered herself up, so you wouldn¡¯t be taken in turn!¡±


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    My mother, who had always displayed an outward appearance of sympathetic calm, broke into deep, wrenching sobs as she fell to her knees in the water. ¡°All I¡¯ve done, I¡¯ve done to try and keep my family safe,¡± she said. ¡°And it is never enough!¡±


    My knees shook as I struggled not to collapse into the water. I used my sole arm to brace myself against the alley wall, feeling a wave of dizziness spread across my system. The matron of the Denoirs, once so proud and powerful, continued to cry wretched tears into the flooded alleys of Fiachra.


    Time seemed distant as I tried to process what my mother told me. Abigale¡­ for me?


    I remembered the day I¡¯d seen her taken away. The look in her eyes had haunted my nightmares for years. That look of quiet acceptance. Of subtle resignation. I¡¯d always assumed that was because she understood the manipulations of my family better than any other, but¨C


    My mother¡¯s breathing slowly evened out as she gathered herself back under control. Though the red puffiness around her eyes and bleeding mascara belied her earlier distress, she slowly managed a pale mimicry of her usual mask.


    My mother slowly stood, her cloak soaked in floodwater. She took a single, evening breath, that mask threatening to shatter once more.


    ¡°I should have known earlier,¡± she said quietly, striding forward. ¡°It is a pointless endeavor, attempting to keep you safe. If you are so ready to burn yourself away; so quick to lay your head along the chopping block, it doesn¡¯t matter how many executioner¡¯s axes I break. You will simply find another way to destroy yourself.¡± Her voice cracked as it left her throat, sounding ragged and raw. ¡°I can¡¯t stop you from killing yourself, Sevren. No matter how I try. Go on your ascents. Attack the Doctrination. It is no longer in my hands. Because everything I do is clearly not enough.¡±


    She left me quaking and adrift in that alleyway. My purpose, which had once felt so certain, had been thrown into the wind.


    I looked down at the reflective floodwaters at my feet, seeing the uncertain fear in my eyes. Here was another bit of flotsam, matching perfectly with the driftwood and decimated architecture all around.


    ¡ª


    I plodded through the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association, my thoughts blank and my feet heavy.


    From a distance away, I looked up at the purple portals that led into the Relictombs. Around both ascension and descension portals, tall, temporary walls had been erected. From asking around, I knew there were mana-reinforced structures inside that allowed the passthrough of goods and supplies while preventing possible contamination.


    I could get by those. I could use the spellform emblazoned on my chest to change the Relictombs zone to anything I could want.


    I could leave this place. I still had half a hundred experiments I needed to do. The prototype weapon I¡¯d been developing in the wake of Toren showing me that otherworld weapon. My mana-gathering system, and¨C


    My thoughts were wrenched back to that fight I¡¯d had with Toren. Where I¡¯d been working for days on end, not a care for my body or soul.


    ¡°But they made a mistake, cutting themselves off from the world outside. Of isolating themselves and their emotions from the scourge of the asura in the waking world. Their passivity doomed themselves, in a way. You¡¯re the closest thing to a legacy they have, so don¡¯t do the same. This world and people are worth your time and attention.¡±


    I wanted to reject his words. As I stared up at the towering portals, workers streaming around me, I saw an escape. A way to avoid those horrible questions. That horrible truth. Because if I¡¯d been wrong about Abigale all along¡­


    Then I saw her. My sister was talking with someone near the edge of the portal dais, gesturing weakly toward the nearby portals.


    I saw two paths stretch in front of my eyes, twisting roads unfurling like roots of a tree. I could go into the Relictombs as I always did. I would never need to leave; never need to face the world outside. Mother was right: I could avoid all the pain.


    Or I could reach a hand out. The world wasn¡¯t as heartless as I¡¯d initially thought. After all, hadn¡¯t the people of Fiachra rallied together, regardless of their blood? Hadn¡¯t Renton Morthelm sought to sacrifice himself to give a few unadorned more time?


    I took one step forward. Then another, then another. I didn¡¯t know if the decision I was about to make was the correct one, but I couldn¡¯t afford doubt.


    ¡°Caera,¡± I said, my voice sounding faint. My sister turned to face me as I approached, her face taking on a worried cast.


    ¡°Sevren,¡± she said quietly, moving closer to me and leaving the attendant she was talking to. ¡°I saw Lenora. She submitted herself to quarantine procedures a few minutes ago, but¡­¡±


    My sister¡¯s brow furrowed in concern as she looked at me. Really looked at me. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns, Sevren, are you okay? You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, the urge to say ¡°Yes,¡± and see it over with. I could still stop this. Still avoid the pain.


    ¡°No,¡± I admitted, my voice feeling raw. ¡°No, I¡¯m not okay.¡±


    My sister scanned the crowd, then wrapped an arm around my shoulder. She led me away, weaving through the Ascender¡¯s Association and shielding me from watching eyes. I felt myself both savoring the warmth of her closeness and fearing the distance from the portal so far back.


    In what could have been minutes or hours, she eventually led me back to our rooms on the higher floors. I followed in her wake numbly, my sole arm grasping her shoulder for support.


    I weakly collapsed onto the bed at the center of the room, the soft covers seeming to swallow me like a cloud. Caera locked the door, then moved to the bed as well, sitting on the edge.


    I looked up at her, forcing myself to take in her appearance. I¡¯d always assumed she was like me before Abigale¡¯s abduction. Naive; unknowing to the true cruelty of this world. It was my duty as her brother to protect her; to shield her from that potential pain.


    But she had never been what I¡¯d envisioned, had she? My adopted sister had awakened years ago. Seris Vritra herself had illustrated the peril of her situation in painful detail.


    That had been one of the foundations for my goals. Alongside wishing to avoid meeting Abigale¡¯s fate¡­


    Both of my supports had been shown to be false. Mere illusions I¡¯d held under myself. I felt cast adrift, as if the bed underneath me was a roiling sea.


    And there was only one, sole light amidst those turbulent waves.


    ¡°Sevren,¡± Caera said softly, something deeply understanding in her eyes. ¡°Talk to me. Please. What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I opened my mouth, and words flowed forth. Stories and pent up emotion and everything that had been building toward an eruption for years. My body shook as I struggled not to break down, my voice cracking.


    I told my sister everything. How I¡¯d pieced together the workings of simulets. How I¡¯d stolen a relic. How I¡¯d followed Toren Daen through the Relictombs, sensing his strange power over aether.


    My sister let me speak. Her face darkened at times as she heard of the risky actions I¡¯d taken, then twisted into deep sympathy as I forged forward. She only interrupted to ask for bare clarification, her hand on my shoulder a comforting press.


    Time seemed a foreign concept as I laid all my secrets bare. I didn¡¯t know how long it took to explain all the experiments Toren and I had done regarding his powers, nor did I know when the sun had gone down. I hazily outlined the final fight I¡¯d had with Toren, where he¡¯d returned with the kit, when my sister finally decided to speak her mind.


    ¡°Toren told you to reach out,¡± she said, her voice small. Her navy bangs shadowed her face. ¡°What finally pushed you to do this, Sevren?¡± she asked, her fingers squeezing my shoulder.


    My mouth felt dry. I didn¡¯t know how long I¡¯d been talking, but my voice sounded worn and ragged. ¡°I met Mother,¡± I said weakly. ¡°And¡­ and she told me why Abigale was taken. I thought, all along, that it was simply political strategy. Bare apathy and maximizing power. But Lenora¨Cmy mother¨Cshe said that I was supposed to be taken instead. Abigale offered herself up in my place.¡±


    My sole hand covered my face. ¡°Everything I¡¯ve done,¡± I said distantly, ¡°I did because I thought I was protecting you, and protecting myself. But those were all false. I¨C I don¡¯t know what to do anymore, Caera,¡± I lamented, feeling a tremble wrack my body.


    I felt as my sister¡¯s arms wrapped around me, her warmth transferring to me as she hugged me. The hug lasted just long enough before she separated, looking me in the eye. Tears of her own welled in those scarlet pupils. ¡°Thank you, Sevren,¡± she said. ¡°Even if you think it was false, all you¡¯ve done¡­ you did so much for me. That means something.¡±


    A silence slowly grew between us as we settled into a comfortable quiet. My thoughts drifted once more to what I should do next after this. That was always how I acted, thinking in the barest short-term. Always step after step after step.


    My sister broke the silence first. ¡°You said you were given a spellform?¡± she said, a hint of curiosity lacing her tone. ¡°From a living djinn? What does it look like?¡±


    I snorted, loosening my collar and pushing my mana into the aforementioned spellform. With energy flowing through it, the purple highlights shone through my light tunic. Caera¡¯s eyes sparkled as she leaned in closer, tracing the lines with her gaze. ¡°I need to be careful with it,¡± I said quietly. ¡°If I use it too often, I risk truly damaging my lifespan, like Toren said. I¡¯ve been¡­¡±


    Caera¡¯s eyes snapped up to me, her brow furrowing. ¡°You¡¯ve been fine burning your life away, just like that?¡± she said harshly.


    I worked my jaw. ¡°There¡¯s no better way to move through the Relictombs. If I want my safety, I need to use it.¡±


    Caera shook her head, her navy locks swaying. ¡°No, it¡¯s not!¡± she said, sounding insistent. ¡°You said that that creature that you used to create an aetheric link between you and Toren to track him was from a zone, right? You could just go back to that zone, kill a dozen of those, and create more markers. Place one of those in the Town Zone instead of risking your life every time!¡±


    I blinked, my vision suddenly focusing on my sister as she uttered those words. I¡¯d only been able to create one aetheric tracker due to the rarity of the item needed. There were aether beasts in one of the zones I¡¯d crossed who laid their segmented tails like a trap in the ground, then phased the rest of their body into a sort of un-reality that protected them from attacks while leaving their main weapon behind.


    I¡¯d suspected those beasts moved into a pocket dimension while leaving behind their tail. Yet to maintain control over their tails while the rest of their many-legged forms were in more substantial reality, they needed some sort of aetheric connection that could transcend dimensions.


    I¡¯d only managed a complete corpse by attaching a grenade to the body of one of the creatures right before it retreated into its little pocket space. When that grenade detonated, the carcass phased back into normal space, the connection between the tail intact.


    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I said sadly. ¡°Without my arm, I¡¯m at risk in every zone I go into. My abilities as a striker have been effectively neutralized. A solo ascent is tantamount to suicide, Caera.¡±


    Caera shifted slightly, a bashful smile growing over her face. When I looked at her, feeling confused, she averted her eyes.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.


    Caera brought a fist up to her mouth, coughing into it. ¡°Well, who says you need to go on a solo ascent?¡± she said, her eyes jumping with excitement. ¡°I¡¯ve got a perfectly good arm, a really nice sword, and some very useful decay mana arts. That should be enough, right?¡±


    My first instinct was to say no to my sister¡¯s implied request. She was the flower that stayed in the Denoir garden, slowly wasting away under their chains. What did she know of combat? Of fighting through hordes of aether beasts?


    But that wasn¡¯t the truth at all. My sister was strong; powerful in a way I didn¡¯t fully comprehend. And what better way to assure my safety than with her by my side? What better way to ensure her safety than by allowing her to grow even stronger through trials and tribulations?


    I felt my lips stretch into a grin, a bit of purpose returning to my veins. ¡°I¡¯m very strict with who I take along on ascents,¡± I teased. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if¨C oof!¡±


    My sister had socked me solidly in the side of the stomach. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll just go to Toren,¡± she said primly, standing up in protest. She batted her eyes playfully, puffing out her chest slightly. ¡°Do you think any man would deny me as an ascending partner?¡±


    I sat up, furrowing my brows. ¡°Now, hold on,¡± I said. Maybe I¡¯d allow my sister to go on ascents, but she would not be hitting on my friend. ¡°That isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    Toren was one of the best friends I¡¯d ever had. It would really suck if I¡¯d have to get rid of him because of my sister.


    ¡°Life isn¡¯t fair, Sevren,¡± Caera said, sounding aloof. She faked wiping away a tear from under her eye. ¡°Imagine the scene: poor Caera, unable to go on an ascent with her brother. So she goes to his best friend, begging for a chance to¨C¡±


    I raised a hand, groaning in mental pain at the image. ¡°Okay, okay, you win,¡± I allowed, though I hid a smile. ¡°How much do you know of the Relictombs?¡±


    Caera looked away, coughing into her fist again. ¡°Well¡­¡±


    I rolled my eyes, patting the spot on the bed beside me again. ¡°Come here. You¡¯re going to get a crash-course rundown on everything I know before we even attempt anything. And you will be quizzed on this later.¡± Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My sister sniffed haughtily, though she did as I asked. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I graduated Central Academy with top marks. We both know I was the valedictorian for my year of class. I¡¯ll be able to repeat anything back to you word for word, Professor Denoir.¡±


    Challenge accepted, I thought. ¡°Well, the first thing you should know is¡­¡±

 Chapter 155: To Heal a City

    Toren Daen


    I adjusted the mask on my face, making sure it was flush with my skin and covering my mouth. I breathed in, the scent of blood, sweat, and grime wafting through the air.


    I trudged through the healer¡¯s camps, nodding in respect to the clinicians who saw me. I reached a hand out to help a man¨Cwith no mana emanating from him¨Cwho stumbled over a protruding bit of rubble. I steadied him as he nearly tumbled, the heavy bag of supplies in his hands unwieldy. When he saw my eyes, he swallowed nervously. ¡°For Fiachra,¡± the young man said in acknowledgment.


    ¡°For Fiachra,¡± I intoned back.


    The man walked off, more confidence in his step as he did so. Aurora¡¯s clockwork songbird alighted on my shoulder, the talons nearly digging into my protective gear. ¡°This medical camp has improved in spirit,¡± she said lightly. ¡°It is¡­ fascinating to observe.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, turning to walk again. A large bucket of bloody rags hovered near my head under my telekinetic control. The announcement today has lifted many spirits, I thought back. It¡¯s no wonder people feel more purpose in their strides.


    It had been nearly half a week since my speech to the people of Fiachra. Since then, I¡¯d immersed myself fully in the wounded camps, utilizing my gifts to the best of my abilities to heal and help survivors along.


    The number of wounded mages was off the charts. I was on call for the deadliest of injuries, and I¡¯d born witness to the horrid effects of blithe a hundred times over. The way the toxin spread throughout a person¡¯s mana channels was a grotesque thing to witness, and despite my best efforts, mages who were infected with the poison would never be able to use their magic again.


    I¡¯d lost more than one patient as I attempted to pull them back from the brink.


    The slog of dead and dying set the entire camps into a grim, dark mood. Every lost person we failed to save drew morale into a deeper pit, one that seemed we¡¯d never claw ourselves out from.


    But just this morning, I¡¯d received word from Scythe Seris that the city of Fiachra was likely to be cleared for greater travel. The blithe plague had been confirmed to no longer bear viral properties, and that meant more supplies. More healers. More support.


    Despite the hundreds of unadorned assisting the camps, we were still understaffed and undersupplied. With the help of others portalling in from around Alacrya, everyone looked forward to relief from the pressure.


    I walked toward the main command tent, depositing the bucket of bloody rags near a dozen others. Teams of men and women would periodically collect those, washing and cleaning what they could while discarding the rest.


    I pushed through the tent, doing a cursory inspection. Aurora¡¯s puppet hummed with a melodic tune as I entered, drawing the eyes of the many men and women inside.


    Trelza, the tall, bald surgeon, turned to look at me with eyes of stone. As the lead medical professional of the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild, he¡¯d quickly been put in charge of the patients wounded by blithe. As East Fiachra regularly had to treat those suffering from blithe symptoms, the Guild inadvertently became the greatest source of knowledge and surety in this trying tragedy.


    ¡°Daen,¡± the man said curtly. ¡°You have another assignment.¡±


    As we¡¯d worked together in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion, Trelza¡¯s anger at the breaking of my oaths had quickly dissipated. In the face of pragmatic need and helping those less fortunate, the iron-eyed surgeon had pushed his personal reservations aside.


    I nodded. ¡°What is their situation?¡± I asked. Most of the time, I was tasked with using my heartfire healing to painfully flush a mage¡¯s mana channels and veins of remaining blithe. It was something I was uniquely suited for, and I had long since grown adept at the action.


    ¡°The patient¡¯s sternum, core, and spinal region are pierced by a blade,¡± Trelza said evenly. ¡°The wound is presumably self-inflicted to staunch the spread of blithe along the mana channels. While this act successfully prevented further infection, all the remaining mana, blood, and plague have begun to build up like an explosive cyst within the core. Our analytics team was hesitant to perform any further tests for fear of the core bursting, causing fatal injuries for all involved.¡±


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°I understand.¡± My eyes flicked to the side, where Wade¨Cthe Rats¡¯ sentry¨Cwas gulping down a glass of water at an almost feverish pace. ¡°Wade, I¡¯m going to need a few more rats for this.¡±


    The brown-haired sentry set down his glass, trying to catch his breath. He looked at me from beneath his bangs, Apple the skaunter cowering near his feet. The little mana beast was utterly terrified of Aurora¡¯s steampunk songbird. ¡°Alright,¡± he said breathily. ¡°Are you going to¡­ to do that thing¨C¡±


    I chanced a glance back at the sentry as a few rats, certainly under the influence of his spellforms, scurried toward my feet without fear. Sensing opportunity, Aurora¡¯s relic swooped down, snatching a few up in her claws. They didn¡¯t struggle, even as they were held in the bronze talons of a predatory construct.


    ¡°I am,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a signal to release your control again, so you don¡¯t have to¡­ experience it.¡±


    Wade slumped back into his chair, shivering slightly. ¡°Thanks. That one time, I was just too slow.¡° He looked up at me, his spectacles flashing. ¡°That¡¯s what you did to Mardeth, yeah?¡±


    I nodded gravely.


    Wade snorted. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said, a surprising note of venom in his tone. ¡±Get going, Toren,¡± he said tiredly. ¡°It¡¯s harder to maintain control when they¡¯re clasped by that¡­ that thing. The rats hate it even more than actual birds.¡±


    I left the tent, a purposeful stride in my step as I weaved through the streets toward where Trelza indicated the patient was located. Aurora¡¯s clockwork construct whirred. ¡°The boy has remarkable mental fortitude, to weather the experience as he did,¡± my bond commented.


    Yet we can¡¯t afford to have him feel it again, I thought, remembering that same experience so long ago. The clarwood forest all around me, my blood slowly pooling underneath as the bodies of skaunters slowly cooled¡­ One can¡¯t remain unchanged after such an experience. I should have been more careful as I worked. He only got the barest experience of it before he cut his tether short, but still.


    I turned down a road, nodding to Greahd as she directed the washerwomen. She had garnered a reputation of her own in the wake of this disaster: the Mother of Fiachra. It was her speech that encouraged the downtrodden of the slums to save their oppressors from their mutual enemy. It was her drive; her compassion that every unadorned emulated, showing the world a different kind of strength.


    Greahd smiled widely, a sense of peace radiating from her eyes as she waved back. Perhaps there had been a disaster in this city, but with her guiding warmth and simple expressions of empathy, I had a feeling all would make it through.


    The older woman waved at me, beckoning me closer. I hesitated for a moment, torn between approaching and going directly to my patient.


    Just a little chat, I thought, drawn toward Greahd like a cold man to a warm hearth. To lift the spirits.


    I smiled beneath my mask as I approached, nodding to the washerwomen in respect. They bowed and smiled in turn, before I finally reached the Mother of Fiachra.


    ¡°Hey, Greahd,¡± I said, noting the buckets of bloody rags she and her compatriots were working to clean. ¡°Not too overwhelmed here, are you?¡±


    There were a lot of wounded, and thus a lot of rags.


    Greahd shook her head, her mousy brown hair swaying in its bun. ¡°We¡¯re fine, Toren,¡± she said simply, but then she looked up at me with those infinitely kind eyes. ¡°I was just wondering about you. You¡¯ve been going about for days using that magic of yours on everyone, not even giving yourself time to sleep and rest. You¡¯re a growing man, Toren. You can¡¯t let yourself burn out too quickly.¡±


    The smile beneath my mask softened as Greahd¡¯s words washed over me. In the wake of this disaster¨Cthe Plaguefire Incursion¨CI had failed many, many people. Both by allowing Mardeth to get so far, and because I could not save every patient I treated.


    And it was Greahd who cared for me. Greahd who ensured I didn¡¯t go up like a tinderbox, working myself to death in atonement.


    How does she do it? I wondered absently. How can she care for everyone?


    ¡°I¡¯ve been taking your advice,¡± I said more seriously. The first few days were the hardest. That was when I lost the most people I¡¯d tried to save, and despite my time working in the clinic in East Fiachra, I hadn¡¯t fully conditioned myself to the reality of losing someone you were trying to save. ¡°I¡¯ve been giving myself more time. Between each surgery, just to process it. To¡­ care for myself.¡±


    Greahd¡¯s smile was soft and slightly sad as she set down the rag she¡¯d been washing, before she sidled over to me. She gave me one of her big hugs¨Cthe kind that made you feel safe and warm. I towered over the woman by more than a foot, but ever since she¡¯d helped me improve my violin, this had never changed.


    I allowed myself to hug her back. Allowed myself this moment of peace and respite for the barest instant.


    But time waited only for the dragons, and even then I was certain Kezess Indrath could not eternally halt the flow of the world. ¡°I¡¯ve got to see to a patient,¡± I said as I separated from the portly Mother of Fiachra. ¡°So, unfortunately, I can¡¯t stick around too long.¡±


    Greahd nodded in understanding. ¡°You do good work, Toren. I¡¯m proud of who you¡¯ve become.¡±


    I coughed in embarrassment as I moved away, and despite my mask, I was sure the flush in my cheeks must have been obvious. ¡°Thanks, Greahd,¡± I said. ¡°I hope I always live up to your expectations.¡±


    I turned to go, already trying to force myself toward the clinical state of mind I needed for surgery, but Greahd¡¯s voice echoed out behind me. ¡°We¡¯re having a cookfire tonight, Toren!¡± she called after me. ¡°I¡¯ll give you the greatest portion of stew we¡¯ve got!¡±


    I smiled as I finally walked away, humming a light tune to myself. In my head, Aurora sighed fondly.


    ¡°A good woman,¡± she thought. ¡°I suppose that the roses that manage to grow despite the stomping of boots and the cut of the scythe are the most beautiful.¡±


    I simply nodded in response as I strolled along the streets, ironing out my thoughts for what was to come.


    I finally reached the tent where the patient I was looking for was located. Aurora, I thought, keep your grasp on those rats tight. We¡¯re going to¨C


    My thoughts were interrupted by a familiar gruff voice emanating from the tent.


    ¡°Merciful Vritra, woman,¡± it slurred gruffly. ¡°There is no need for your coddling! I am strong enough to see myself through this!¡±


    I heard a disgruntled huff. ¡°You can barely move your arms, my lord,¡± another voice snapped back. ¡°Your fever is running higher today. I need to lay the rags, or else¨C¡±


    I blinked, registering both voices as the latter continued to talk. Renton Morthelm? I thought incredulously. And¡­ isn¡¯t that Benny¡¯s mother? Baela?


    I pushed open the flap of the tent, not quite sure what I was expecting. Sure enough, Highlord Renton Morthelm was situated on a bare gurney, feebly trying to wave away the attendance of Baela, the lowborn woman from East Fiachra.


    ¡°I have managed my own care for decades,¡± the sturdy man said, though the words were uttered with a bit of a wheeze. They also fell a bit flat due to the jagged blade handle jutting from his sternum. ¡°No need for¨C¡±


    Across the tent, Benny, who was twiddling his thumbs in an expression of supreme boredom, hopped from his chair as he spotted me. A wide, wide smile stretched across his face, his eyes sparkling. ¡°Mister Daen!¡± he cried, running forward. I knelt, allowing the young boy to hug me as he barreled into my chest. I chuckled, ruffling his choppy hair.


    I looked up, noting Baela¡¯s fond expression. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said respectfully. ¡°Lord Morthelm is refusing to¨C¡±


    ¡°My name is Renton, woman,¡± the aforementioned older man protested.


    ¡°Lord Morthelm is refusing treatment,¡± she said, squaring her shoulders. ¡°Since he awoke earlier today, he has done nothing but refuse to be properly cared for.¡±


    Benny blinked. ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s weird,¡± the frostbitten boy said with childish candor. ¡°Momma helped him for days and days without him making a noise. And now he says he doesn¡¯t want it! Doesn¡¯t make sense to me.¡±


    I watched as Baela¡¯s face gradually flushed to a color so deeply red I feared she would pass out. ¡°Now, Benny,¡± she said, her voice strained from embarrassment. ¡°Don¡¯t you think you should go back to your chair? You need to be still so we don¡¯t bother Lord Morthelm.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°I did that for forever,¡± Benny countered, looking up at the clockwork bird on my shoulders. He audibly gasped as he saw the burning red stars within the eye sockets. ¡°It¡¯s so pretty!¡± he breathed, entirely unphased by the presence of the asura within. ¡°Like the sun! They¡¯re just like your eyes were before you fought the bad man!¡±


    I gently pushed the young boy away from me, feeling Aurora¡¯s fondness radiating like a steady torch through my mind. She released the rats in her talons, leaving me to use my telekinetic emblem to hold them aloft. The steampunk sparrow leaned forward on my shoulder, matching the young boy¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°He is so curious,¡± my bond said. ¡°There is such purity in one so small, despite all he has suffered.¡±


    Benny raised a hand, seeming about ready to pet the clockwork construct. Baela seemed to suddenly realize the possible danger, forgetting Lord Morthelm for the barest moment. She stepped forward, her eyes opening wide.


    I gently raised my own hand to block Benny¡¯s. ¡°She isn¡¯t a pet, young man,¡± I chided. ¡°Hold out your hand instead. Like a handshake. That¡¯s how you greet people, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Benny¡¯s face pinched into something surprisingly serious for a five-year-old as he held his hand out, eyes darting from Aurora¡¯s puppet to his own hand and back.


    Aurora directed her clockwork songbird forward, allowing its head of bronze to brush his own palm. The little songbird trilled contentedly, something akin to a mechanical hum as orange-purple light bled through the gaps. I smiled slightly, the sight obscured by my mask.


    Unfortunately, I had a job to do. Aurora, sensing the shift in my mood, reluctantly withdrew her puppet¡¯s head. Benny looked down at his hand, starstruck by the interaction. Baela herself hadn¡¯t even breathed, seeming to sense the importance of the moment.


    I slowly stood, gently directing the dazed Benny toward his mother. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not here for a visit,¡± I said, my eyes flicking to the groggy Renton Morthelm¡¯s. ¡°Lord Morthelm here is due for treatment. Afterward, you can tend to him all he needs,¡± I said, smirking slightly at Baela.


    She bowed her head, hiding the flush in her cheeks as she corralled her young son toward the exit of the tent. ¡°Thank you, Lord Daen,¡± she said. She paused uncertainly near the exit of the tent. ¡°You do much for us.¡±


    I waved dismissively as I focused on my patient. He was watching the woman leave with something akin to fondness in his cloudy eyes. ¡°I only do what I can, miss,¡± I said. ¡°As you have done.¡±


    She left the tent a bare second later.


    ¡°So, the famed Spellsong is my surgeon now, too?¡± Morthelm said, his voice sounding more clear as his eyes focused. ¡°The proper thing to do would be to bow, but you¡¯ll have to excuse my inability.¡±


    I moved forward, inspecting Renton¡¯s chest. The handle of some sort of cane jutted from his sternum, shifting to a thin blade that pierced his mana core and presumably part of his spine as well. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re lucid enough to talk,¡± I said, calling my heartfire to the tips of my fingers as I circled the bed, inspecting the intrusion from different angles. ¡°Considering how close this blade must be to your heart. You likely have a pierced lung, and the only reason you can even talk is because the blood from that injury is being compressed into what¡¯s left of your core instead of into your lung.¡±


    Renton wheezed, his silverish hair caked with sweat. Baela wasn¡¯t wrong about his fever. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t let those bastard vicars claim me, too,¡± he forced out. He must have been in inordinate pain, yet none of that showed on his face. ¡°I saw what happened to the others. Would¡¯ve rather died. Stabbed what was left of my cane into my core.¡±


    I turned toward the man, lowering my voice. ¡°Without your help, the Incursion wouldn¡¯t have ended so cleanly, if at all,¡± I whispered, moving closer. Scythe Seris had ordered a tight noose around information relating to the basilisk blood crystal and its destruction, but I thought it only right that this man knew the impact of his actions.


    Especially in case I failed to heal him.


    Renton looked away. ¡°That was not why I acted,¡± he said quietly.


    I exhaled, allowing my mind to drift into the serene, clinical place it went when I performed my medicine. I walked forward, noting the straps along the gurney. ¡°We don¡¯t have anesthetic handy,¡± I warned. ¡°So the surgery I am about to do will be very, very painful. I¡¯m going to need to strap your arms down.¡±


    Renton clenched his teeth. ¡°I am of Highblood Morthelm, Lord Daen. Pain is nothing,¡± he ground out. ¡°Do what you must.¡±


    I nodded, then cinched his large arms to the bed beneath him. In preparation, I enveloped both of my hands in a layer of fire, burning away any pathogens that might be present. Gloves and antiseptics were reserved for the non-mage surgeons. Hopefully, more supplies would be in soon, but patients like Renton couldn¡¯t afford to wait another day or two for a mage who could put on gloves.


    I tore Morthelm¡¯s shirt open, revealing the wound in truth. A deep, blackening purple mixed with green spread from the stab.


    Indeed, he¡¯s only alive because that blade stayed in, I thought, my eyes tracing the contour. I¡¯m going to need precision for this.


    I pulled a certain item from underneath the folds of my protective gear, revealing Brahmos¡¯ inverted white horn. The rats hovered in front of me, utterly unaware of their trapped state by my telekinetic emblem.


    I looked to the side, signaling Aurora¡¯s construct. She spread her wings, the sound like a hundred knives sharpening, then flew out of the tent.


    I waited for the telltale signs as my bond¡¯s construct finally reached Wade. Sure enough, the rats began squeaking and screaming in terror as the sentry released them from his control. I smothered the noise with a sound shroud, hefting the white horn.


    I heard each of their tiny heartbeats as a pulse of lifeforce, perceptible to my ears as a bare thrum. I exhaled, feeling my mind drift slightly. I am sorry.


    Then I drove Brahmos¡¯ horn into a rat¡¯s chest. I called on my own heartfire, the tendrils funneling along my hands as they focused themselves through the horn. Like ensorcelling chains, I knew the threads of orange-purple fire had coated the little rodent¡¯s heart like a mourning shroud.


    Then I began to pull. There was no struggle of wills; no true resistance. I was a man, and this was a rat. It¡¯s heartfire could do nothing to resist the tenuous draw of my own strength.


    I absorbed the rodent¡¯s lifeforce quickly, its lifespan drawn into my reserves of aetheric energy. When it had become less than a shriveled husk, I slid the inverted horn from its chest, then moved on to the next one.


    In the days-long treatment of patients, my reserves of lifeforce had quickly run dry. Yet I was still needed. Aurora, pragmatically, had proposed a solution.


    And so here I was, draining the life from a few rodents at a time to allow me to heal those in need.


    A worthy trade, but one that still unnerved me slightly. The reality of what I was doing had long since settled into my bones.


    I breathed a puff of purple-orange mist as three husks, each vaguely resembling a rat, were left behind.


    I turned around, my reserves of aetheric energy ready for what I needed to do. I slipped the inverted horn back onto my belt, feeling reassured by the connection I had to it. Renton¡¯s wide eyes were locked on the rodent corpses as I waved them away in a pulse of fire.


    ¡°Try and stand still,¡± I said, moving forward carefully. I looked over the wound in Renton¡¯s chest, then placed a hand over his sternum.


    I called to Morthelm¡¯s heartfire with my own, settling into my Acquire Phase as I shut everything else out. I pointed two fingers over the man¡¯s chest, a thin tendril of heartfire threading from my index and middle fingers. Overtop that, a layering telekinetic shroud elongated before red plasma finally subsumed it all, a thin scalpel of plasma extending from my digits.


    I ignored how Renton¡¯s breathing hitched; how he tensed deeply. I lowered my makeshift scalpel, making a thin, thin incision over his chest. Lord Morthelm grunted in pain, but it was inconsequential.


    When the flesh had been cut through, I finally got a look at the core underneath. Sure enough, the blade had pierced straight through his core. What was left of Renton¡¯s mana core looked swollen and sickly, the buildup of blood and blithe within just about ready to burst.


    If I just ripped the blade from Renton¡¯s chest, the blithe would spread over his innards, causing untold harm as it finally found release.


    That led me to my current plan: I needed to pierce his core, providing an alternate route of release that I could control.


    I angled my fingers, preparing to make the incision. My own heartbeat pulsed with the steady surety of a drum, my fingers never wavering.


    I pressed my plasma scalpel into Renton¡¯s core. Immediately, he screamed in pain, but a combination of telekinetic pushes and the bed¡¯s restraints kept him from shifting at all. A stream of dark green liquid erupted from the core, but before it could make any progress through his body, my own fire-coated palm burned it all away.


    I waited for the majority of the pressure to release. There was still a bit of blithe left in his nexus of power, but no longer was it ready to burst like a grenade.


    The man was sweating bullets, his breathing stilted. Indeed, the blade in his chest had nicked the edge of one of his lungs, but hadn¡¯t fully pierced it. Instead, the edge traveled toward his spine.


    I revved my heartfire, calling out to Highlord Morthelm¡¯s as I grasped the handle of his broken cane sword. I locked eyes with him, hoping to convey my silent surety.


    Then I drew the blade from his body. It was a painstakingly slow process, as I had to try and direct my healing toward the places where the edge had vacated his flesh, sealing over each bit with the excess energy I¡¯d taken from the rats.


    Time fell away, becoming meaningless as I immersed myself in saving a patient. Flesh healed over as the blade slowly left, Morthelm¡¯s ragged cries long since turned to pained grunts from exhaustion.


    As the blade finally left his core, I directed a steady stream of fire into the pierced organ, scouring away any remaining blithe that might be hiding within. And then the knife was finally free.


    I exhaled as the weapon clinked onto a nearby metal table, a large scar over Renton¡¯s chest the only indication that anything had been amiss.


    I stepped back, allowing my Acquire Phase to settle back into my core. The plasma scalpel along my fingers finally dissipated as I exhaled, wiping a single bead of sweat from my brow. ¡°It seems you¡¯ll live, Lord Morthelm,¡± I said, working my stiff hands.


    Renton was heaving for breath, his face a mask of sweat. His eyes bulged slightly as they looked down at his chest. ¡°I¨C I couldn¡¯t feel my legs earlier,¡± he muttered. ¡°I can feel them again.¡±


    ¡°Your sword nicked the nerves along your spine,¡± I said, unlatching the restraints along the gurney. ¡°I managed to heal that.¡±


    Renton ran astounded hands over his chest. Then they paused. ¡°I can no longer feel mana,¡± he said, seeming surprised to be uttering those words. ¡°It¡­ it has abandoned me.¡±


    I clenched my jaw. This part was often the hardest of every single surgery. While I saved many lives, none with cores infected by blithe would ever be able to use magic again. I had grown accustomed to maddened rants, disbelieving pleas, and broken stares in the wake of this news.


    ¡°I can¡¯t heal your core,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s beyond my power. Probably beyond anyone¡¯s power.¡± Anyone except the Legacy.


    Renton¡¯s head thumped against his pillows as he looked up at the ceiling of his tent. ¡°I see,¡± was all he said.


    I tilted my head, genuinely surprised by his lack of emotion on the subject.


    ¡°You seem surprised, Lord Daen,¡± Renton said, chuckling hoarsely. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m used to accusations. People begging. People trying to rip me apart for the news. You¡¯re the calmest I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    The highlord moved his legs, seeming to revel in the action. ¡°When that woman, Baela, was taking us away from those vicars, I saw it all. What you were trying to do.¡±


    I froze in the act of burning the blood from my fingers, the flames sputtering out.


    Renton¡¯s old, wise eyes focused on me. ¡°When you played your violin before the Denoir Ball, it called to mind a feeling of creeping safety being wrenched away. The fear that all I¡¯d built would wash away by a simple mistake. And,¡± he worked his jaw. ¡°And when I saw your friend, the Young Rat, working alongside Sevren Denoir during their mad rush for the Vicar of Plague, I could see it in them, too. That same terror I¡¯d always felt, of all you¡¯ve loved crashing down.¡±


    Renton looked at his palms. ¡°I understood them,¡± he whispered, seeming awed by the words he uttered. ¡°I¡¯ve lived a long, brutal life, Lord Daen, but very rarely have I been so thoroughly surprised by a realization as that. And so I resolved to stop those vicars. To give your friends a chance, no matter the cost.¡±


    I lowered my hands. ¡°Understanding is the first step to peace,¡± I said quietly, echoing the words of the djinn, J¡¯ntarion.


    I¡¯d given my dimension ring to Sevren, hoping he could find a way to mend the damaged artifact. Yet now, I knew the first thing I would do when I got it back. I¡¯d mark down another annotation in Of Mana and Minds.


    That the entire endeavor I worked for was possible. There could be a society of mages and nonmages working in tandem. Without oppression, and without hell.


    ¡°So you say, Lord Daen,¡± Morthelm said quietly. ¡°So you say.¡± S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡ª


    I left the tent feeling a sort of heady warmth in my veins. The sun seemed a bit brighter as I walked back toward the tent, the surety of my purpose set.


    Aurora¡¯s construct settled onto my shoulder. ¡°You seem happier than when I last left you, my bond,¡± she thought to me.


    I think, I thought absently, I feel like I have made a difference. I wasn¡¯t just some background character. I could bring about change. I could make things better.


    Aurora¡¯s clockwork bird shifted. ¡°Of course, Toren,¡± she said soothingly. ¡°Was there any doubt?¡±


    My eyes traced over the many men and women working for the betterment of Fiachra. Mage and nonmage alike. Always, I thought back. But now¡­


    I turned to the side as I sensed a presence, the mana warping notably. I furrowed my brow as I felt Cylrit approach, hovering imperiously over the crowd. All around us, men and women went to their knees as they prostrated before the retainer in signs of respect and subservience.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± the man said without inflection. ¡°My master needs to meet with you.¡±


    I looked toward the command tent, feeling a beat of indecision on leaving right now. But I could always return. ¡°I¡¯ll follow you,¡± I said, engaging my telekinesis emblem to push me into the sky.


    I followed after Cylrit for several minutes, an uncomfortable silence stretching between us. We slowly made our way closer to the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association, streets passing us by quickly.


    ¡°Before we arrive,¡± I said, breaking the silence, ¡°What exactly changed? Is the quarantine going to continue longer than expected?¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a long moment. ¡°You can save your questions for Scythe Seris,¡± he said curtly. ¡°It is not my place to answer.¡±


    I frowned, feeling a spark of annoyance at the man¡¯s dismissive attitude. I shoved it down, however, as we finally reached the entrance to the Ascender¡¯s Association.


    Scythe Seris was waiting for us, hovering in the sky above. I frowned, looking down at my telekinetic supports below me.


    I would not be able to fly up that high.


    Cylrit looked down at me with something approaching mockery as he hovered near his mistress.


    Thankfully, Seris seemed to recognize my limitations. She lowered in the air, her presence masked as ever.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± she said evenly, her eyes tracing my surgeon¡¯s garb. ¡°It appears to me that you are clothed for a medical examination rather than a meeting.¡±


    ¡°Considering I¡¯ve been doing nothing but the former for the past few days,¡± I breathed, ¡°You have me wondering who I¡¯ll be meeting.¡±


    Seris¡¯ brows pinched as she lowered slightly, drifting closer to where I stood on the ground. I caught a whiff of that floral perfume of hers¨Cthe one that resembled her tea leaves. I swallowed imperceptibly.


    How could I even smell it through my surgeon¡¯s garb? I wondered. I was starting to wonder if there was some magical effect involved with it.


    ¡°High Vicar Varadoth has made a public announcement in regards to the Plaguefire Incursion,¡± she said solemnly.


    I ground my teeth, feeling my heart beat a tick faster at the mention of the High Vicar. ¡°What did he say?¡± I demanded.


    Seris seemed unperturbed by my tone. ¡°He does not condemn Mardeth, nor does he endorse him. Instead¡­.¡± I felt my breath catch as the Scythe¡¯s aura flared slightly. ¡°Instead, he makes a public offer to Spellsong,¡± she said with an air of quotation, ¡°That you may prove your soul.¡±

 Chapter 156: The Deepest Doctrine

    Toren Daen


    ¡°Mardeth, First Vicar of the Doctrination of Etril, has been slain,¡± a monotone, near-robotic voice said from the recording artifact in my hands. ¡°In a contest of souls, he was proven the weaker of wills. Thus, the Plaguefire Incursion was halted.¡± High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s eye sockets¨Cpierced by his own horns¨Cbled a steady stream of black liquid. ¡°Spellsong has proven his strength to all of Alacrya. But his words have not proven sufficient to me.¡±


    I watched the recording mutely, feeling a coiling dread in my stomach. My hands clenched around the artifact, Varadoth¡¯s words echoing in my ears.


    ¡°The Second Doctrine demands a reason for strength. And now, Toren Daen, that reason has been extinguished by your own hand. So come. Prove to me that you are worthy of the power you still wield. For power without purpose is a sword without a hilt.¡± Varadoth¡¯s face was cast in an ominous shadow. ¡°Show me the strength of your blade.¡±


    The recording stopped, and the final image portrayed on the pane of mana was entrenched in my mind.


    ¡°High Vicar Varadoth issued this decree publicly not an hour ago,¡± Seris said seriously. We¡¯d shifted to her private quarters in the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association, and I¡¯d quickly discarded my medical equipment as the implications nearly overwhelmed me. ¡°And it must be answered.¡±


    I remembered the beating heart of Varadoth¡¯s power. How his mana trailed behind him like a never-ending cloak when he entered the ballroom; a portent of doom.


    Immediately, I knew him to be more than my match. Even under the effects of the Second Phase¨CSoulplume, as I liked to call it¨CI knew my power would not be enough to contend with the High Vicar.


    ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough yet to face the High Vicar,¡± I said, grinding my teeth. ¡°If I go to that Cathedral, challenging the man to a straight fight, I will die.¡±


    Seris¡¯ onyx eyes flashed, her pearlescent hair shifting as she took the recording artifact from my hands. ¡°Yet, Lord Daen?¡±


    I felt the onset of a headache as I tried to work a way out of this. ¡°I have no doubt you noticed my absurd growth in strength,¡± I said, pacing in the room as I tried to think of a way I could stall Varadoth. Put off our confrontation for another few months; maybe a year? ¡°I just need time.¡±


    Time I didn¡¯t have. If I denied Varadoth his fight, what would happen to Fiachra? If this man felt slighted, was he prone to retaliate as Mardeth was?


    I belatedly realized that Varadoth might be one of the most dangerous people I¡¯d ever met. If not in raw power, then simply because he seemed to believe in the words he spoke. A man who truly believed, with every fiber of his being, in the Doctrine of Strength¡­


    It called to mind the men who changed the world in my previous life. Those who were capable of the most change¨Cthe most harm¨Cwere those who believed in ideals without caring for opposing evidence.


    Seris¡¯ cool voice flowed like water from a soothing stream. ¡°You will not be facing this alone, Lord Daen.¡±


    I halted in my tracks, turning back to the Scythe with surprise. Cylrit¡¯s reaction, however, was not so muted. He took a step forward, his expression pinched.


    ¡°Lady Seris, I beg you to reconsider,¡± he said, his intent fluctuating with deep-seated worry. ¡°To approach High Vicar Varadoth on his terms within his place of power¡­ You would be disadvantaged in every way.¡±


    The Retainer carefully kept his eyes away from me as he essentially promoted sending me to my death.


    Dick.


    Seris thankfully shook her head, her pearlescent locks swaying rhythmically. ¡°Varadoth will not act with deceit. His own personal philosophy will not allow it when it comes to direct confrontations of power. Yet¡­¡±


    The Scythe of Sehz-Clar tapped a finger against her chin, scrutinizing me in a way that made goosebumps rise along my skin. ¡±He is sure to know that by threatening one under my protection, he has invited my intervention. This was why I could not outright kill Mardeth myself, despite how much I wished to,¡± she said, a hint of anger entering her tone. ¡°It would have allowed Varadoth an opening toward my operations. An opening toward you, Spellsong. That was why he went out of his way to remind me at the Denoir ball by speaking with you. But now¡­¡±


    Cylrit looked uncomfortable, his hands tensing behind his back. He seemed to want to protest more, but knew his master well enough to understand when her mind was made up.


    Seris tapped a perfect alabaster finger along a nearby table, her expression one of deep thought. ¡°Cylrit, you are to be in charge of operations in Fiachra while I am away,¡± she said without preamble, moving toward the door. ¡°Should anything unforeseen occur during this meeting, you have full authorization to proceed in my absence.¡±


    The enigmatic Scythe swept out of the room, clearly intent on her plans.


    Cylrit¡¯s head slowly, robotically, turned to me as we were left alone in the room. ¡°You¡¯ve drawn my master into something truly, truly dangerous,¡± he said, his aura flaring with his anger. ¡°Even for her. Do you understand the implications of your actions?¡±


    I ground my teeth, brushing away Cylrit¡¯s intent. ¡°I do,¡± I said honestly. I wasn¡¯t powerful enough to even compare Seris with Varadoth in terms of strength, but if this confrontation came down to a battle, I was confident I would be able to assist her in any sort of fight. I wouldn¡¯t let her plans of rebellion fall because of me.


    ¡°You do not,¡± Cylrit countered. ¡°And perhaps you one day shall understand the true danger of your actions here. But you cannot know the depths of plans you may disrupt.¡± He stepped toward me, his metal boots clinking beneath his feet. He loomed, looking down on me with an upturned chin. ¡°Know this, Spellsong: If you leave the Central Cathedral alive and my master does not, I will kill you myself.¡±


    Cylrit swept out of the room with those chilling words, leaving my adrenaline pumping and my Acquire Phase barely beneath my skin.


    ¡ª


    I held Brahmos¡¯ horn outward, the inverted palette shining as I threaded my lifeforce through the point. Invisible to my eyes but audible to my ears, the thread elongated into a thick phantasmal artery. My telekinetic shroud slowly layered itself over the thread of heartfire, leaving interlocking plates of crystalline mana. Finally, a layer of vibrating sound mana fuzzed through the structure, making my weapon audibly hum.


    In preparation for a potential battle with Varadoth, I¡¯d set myself up in one of the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association¡¯s many training rooms.


    The blade swooshed as I scored it against the ground, carving a thin cut into the earth. After a moment, I began to shift through my saber forms at speed, envisioning a myriad of opponents as they attacked me.


    I imagined an attack skidding off my own as I held my blade in a hanging guard. I stepped forward and out, using the rotation to shift the blade from a hanging parry to a blurring, sideways cut. Another imaginary attacker thrust for me with the point of a spear. I felt myself flow to the side, using a mana-laden hand to divert the point of the weapon. My saber flashed twice: one cut severing the head of the imaginary spear shaft, the next decapitating my foe.


    I ducked under a whirling spell, maneuvering myself to the side with a bare application of my telekinetic pulls. I twisted, using the rotation to kick outward at a perceived hunk of stone. My saber flicked out, impaling a foe who had been hidden behind a shield of imagined fire. My sound-layered saber cared not for his pitiful attempt at protection.


    ¡°I do not wish to use your Second Phase¨CSoulplume, as you call it¨Cso recklessly, my bond,¡±


    Aurora¡¯s puppet transmitted from afar. ¡°You seem to think its use will be necessary in the coming months.¡±


    I jumped, using my telekinetic pulls on the ground to twist myself supernaturally as I lashed out with a plume of fire to engulf imaginary bullets of wind.


    Are you still uncertain about how close your soul came to overwhelming mine? I asked, the clack of my shoes echoing out as I landed once more, my stance solid and prepared. If that is the case, you need not brush so close in the midst of it.


    ¡°That is true,¡± Aurora acceded. ¡°Though you achieve the greatest amount of power in the form by utilizing the stability of my mind and my former experience with the Will. To distance myself too greatly risks losing those benefits.¡±


    I parried half a dozen imaginary blows, stepping around in a circle as my shadow opponent pushed me along the training room.


    My saber style¨Cthe one Aurora had taught me¨Cfocused on deft parries and devastating counters. And so as I perceived an opening, I slid forward, redirecting my opponent¡¯s momentum and delivering a fire-clad uppercut to their jaw.


    Then we need to practice, I thought back. We need to learn to keep close, but not too close. Where I can reap the benefits without succumbing to the dangers of your soul.


    I stopped my rapid movements, feeling the heat in my blood cool slightly as the thrumming of mana across my channels slowly receded.


    ¡°The next time you use your Soulplume Phase,¡± Aurora said, her puppet circling around me, ¡°It shall be easier. Just like stretching, the first time is always the most difficult.¡±


    I held out my hand, the steampunk songbird alighting on my finger with the sound of shifting shears. The little bird whirred and chirped, hopping from one foot to the other. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°It seems we can never get stronger fast enough,¡± I muttered sadly. I gently withdrew the tendrils of aetheric lifeforce from Aurora¡¯s relic, watching as it shifted inward while glowing. A brass brooch was all that remained in my palm.


    I gently tethered the brooch to my vest, looking down at the inverted horn in my hand.


    It conducted both mana and my heartfire superbly well, focusing both in a way I didn¡¯t truly understand. The major weakness of my solidified mana constructs was their fragility. My fireshot and soundshot, with minimal physical impact, would disperse or explode. For their intended use as pellets to pepper my foes, that wasn¡¯t so bad. But if I wanted to make a blade that would resist contact, then I was well out of luck.


    But the ability to create veins of heartfire solved that weakness. I could only extend my telekinetic shroud over parts of my body, yet the veins of lifeforce were seemingly close enough for the shroud to encompass them. The crystalline segments of my telekinetic shroud were durable and sharp, creating a perfect base for a mana blade. And depending on which element I needed, I could funnel fire, sound, or even plasma through the structure without fear.


    I inspected the pulsing lines of orange-purple that ran through the pale horn. It had once been black as pitch, those same lines a deep, bloody red. Yet as I¡¯d siphoned Mardeth¡¯s lifespan from his dying body, the event had somehow changed Brahmos¡¯ horn.


    It was inverted, I thought, looking at the horn. I slotted it into my belt, feeling comforted by the thrumming connection I held with the item. Inversion. A good name.


    ¡°Your training is an interesting thing to watch,¡± I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. ¡°Though it is lacking in many aspects.¡±


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    I turned on my heel, seeing Seris Vritra¡¯s unperturbed form as she hovered ever-so-slightly in the air. Her hands were clasped behind her back in a regal manner, an inquisitive cast to her face.


    ¡°I rarely have time for true training,¡± I said a bit lamely. ¡°Most of all that I know has been engrained through direct combat and struggle.¡±


    As Aurora had said so long ago in the Clarwood Forest, danger was the best teacher. And sure enough, the lessons that stayed with me the most¨Cmy swordsmanship, my casting tics, and my reactions to stimuli in a fight¨Call were honed to a knife¡¯s edge by life or death struggle.


    ¡°We will have to see about changing that,¡± Seris said primly, settling down on the ground.


    I raised a brow. ¡°I don¡¯t think our original agreements had any sort of clauses regarding martial training,¡± I said skeptically, thinking of the deal I made with Renea Shorn regarding her sponsoring my musical talents. ¡°I think asking for any sort of training would be considered taking liberties.¡±


    Seris¡¯ face shifted up in a way I hadn¡¯t seen before, an emotion somewhat like amusement stretching across her dark lips. She turned around, walking gracefully toward the exit of the training room. ¡°It is hypocritical of you to point that out, Toren,¡± she said lightly, ¡°Considering the liberties you took throughout our partnership.¡±


    I coughed lightly into my fist as I trailed after the Scythe, choosing deliberately not to answer.


    Yet as I centered myself more, I found myself wondering about Renea Shorn. About Seris Vritra.


    I covertly inspected the way she seemed to glide across the floor, her dark dress flowing around her like a tide of shadows.


    In the time since I¡¯d been interacting with Scythe Seris, I¡¯d found more similarities with Renea Shorn than differences. From how they walked, how they talked, to the subtle inflections in their body language. They even enjoyed the same brews of tea. The only differences I could note were the surface-level physical changes caused by the deactivation of her cloaking artifact. Seris¡¯ face might have been sharper than her alter ego¡¯s. She may have hair of silver and a pair of twin horns thrusting from her forehead, but I¡¯d begun to wonder how much of a mask Renea Shorn truly was to the Scythe in front of me.


    Since the reveal of her true identity, I¡¯d started off feeling dreadfully uncertain about how I should treat the Scythe. We¡¯d been relatively informal before, enough to banter and tease without fear. But now that her true status had been laid before me, I wasn¡¯t sure how to act.


    It was like I¡¯d realized my bartender was secretly the Secretary of State. It felt strange to keep treating them like your bartender after such a ground-shattering revelation.


    Yet Seris didn¡¯t seem to change how she treated me, either, at least not to a large extent. Maybe her subtle teasing had evaporated. Mostly. But¡­


    But she still treats me like I asked to be, I thought, putting my finger on what exactly had constituted her attitude. She treats me like an equal.


    I missed a step as the realization clicked. Perhaps she held herself as my authoritative superior, but she did not expect me to bow and kneel in her presence. When it was truly necessary, the Scythe implored me to act and obey her orders, but it was in a respectful manner that was functionally different from most other interactions I saw her engage in.


    The uneasy presence of Aurora, however, reminded me of another possibility. Another worry.


    Maybe that is intentional, another part of me thought. She knows that I respond best to respect, and she is certainly talented enough to feign it. Are her intentions pure, or is it just another mask? Is this Seris Vritra the true one?


    In the aftermath of the Denoir ball, I¡¯d recognized how dangerous Renea truly was and how I¡¯d ignored the warning signs because of petty loneliness and a desire for companionship. For all I knew, this was another grand ruse that covered my eyes.


    I didn¡¯t think it was. Not from those bare inflections I¡¯d felt in Seris¡¯ intent. But I would be a fool to rule it out.


    These thoughts and more flowed through my head as we finally reached the central Fiachra teleportation gates. The attendant bowed deeply, muttering praises to the Sovereigns as he keyed it for Cardigan.


    I shook my head, pushing my excess thoughts away. I could ask myself more of Seris¡¯ motivations later.  I needed to be centered, my mind attuned to conflict.


    We had a vicar to confront.


    ¡ª


    Cardigan was massive. The sprawling city dwarfed even Fiachra in size as the sole city in the Central Dominion, nearly all of the High Sovereign¡¯s greatest minds congregated in one place.


    Yet even from the teleportation gates, with miles of civilization stretching around us, the Central Cathedral of the Doctrination was as obvious as a cyst amidst healthy flesh. Just as in Fiachra, the temple to the Vritra dominated its entire surroundings, standing half a measure taller than any other nearby building. Yawning walls emphasized the vastness of the structure, with black windows blotting out any natural light.


    The attendant at the other side of the gate looked up, spotted Seris, and promptly paled.


    ¡°Sc-Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he stuttered, he and his compatriots falling to one knee in a wobbly act of subservience. ¡°Forgive this one for not having any sort of welcome prepared for you. We¨Cwe were not informed of any sort of visit. I will see that the cause of the oversight is properly punished, my Lady.¡±


    Seris tilted her head, inspecting the gate worker as if he were an interesting new species of insect. ¡°None of you bore the ability to foresee my coming,¡± she said, her tone devoid of inflection. She slowly hovered into the air, orienting on the massive cathedral not far away. ¡°Return to your duties.¡±


    The man¡¯s terrified eyes flicked to me, then to the ground once more. ¡°Yes, Scythe Seris,¡± he muttered weakly.


    His intent was so deeply shaken that it took me a moment to follow the Scythe of Sehz-Clar in her flight, using telekinetic pulls to launch myself above the ground. The buildings moved by us quickly as we approached the cathedral.


    The temple was easily twenty stories tall, and the shadow it cast enveloped everything that dared to be nearby. As we reached the courtyard, my eyes tracked around nervously, noting the absolute absence of any sort of life. Not even the heartfire of rats and pests reached my ears.


    It was as if I had stepped into a wasteland. I looked at the Scythe at my shoulder uncertainly.


    ¡°Are you afraid, Lord Daen?¡± she said, her eyes tracking the vertical lines of the massive temple.


    I swallowed. ¡°I am,¡± I said truthfully. I already felt my heartbeat picking up pace, my blood thrumming in my ears as I stared at the tall, tall entrance to the temple.


    It is designed for a basilisk¡¯s true form to slither through, I realized with a hint of deeper uncertainty. A true den of snakes.


    ¡°That is good,¡± Seris breathed out, her dark lips settling into a determined line. ¡°That fear shall keep you alive.¡±


    The Scythe strode forward, the swish-swish-swish of her glittering dark battledress compelling me forward in turn. She laid a small, delicate hand on the massive doors. Each was easily thirty feet tall and sculpted of blood iron, an aura of dark power radiating from them.


    Upon their face, a sculpture of dozens of lessers bowing before a Vritra¡¯s true, serpentine form was inlaid in excruciating detail. My eyes locked with the three serpentine pupils of the basilisk, each sculpted of perfect rubies. My breathing began to increase as sweat beaded along my palms.


    Seris thrust her palm forward. Her small, petite body, defying any sort of logic, pushed open the doors. They swung open with the sound of clanging metal, the dark interior of the temple suddenly illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight outside.


    Seris stepped forward without reservations. I followed behind her, my hand staying clasped on Inversion at my waist.


    Rows upon rows upon rows of pews led up toward a central altar. The stench of blood hit my nose immediately, causing me to rev my core in response. Dark brown trails stretched from the stone altar into inlaid grooves on the floor.


    They are for blood, I realized quickly. There have been sacrifices here.


    The mana within the cathedral felt still. Not dead, just tensed, as if in anticipation for a bomb to go off.


    Just as in the East Fiachran temple, a massive mosaic of a Vritra¡¯s human form stretched on the back wall of the temple, its ruby eyes quietly judging everything that dared enter its path of sight.


    ¡°Varadoth!¡± Seris called out, flexing her mana. I was finally able to feel as the Scythe let loose with her power, the contained strength of a hurricane rippling past me. I grit my teeth as I flared my intent, trying to match Seris¡¯ output in a meager attempt. ¡±You have issued a challenge to one under my protection!¡± she called, her smooth voice resounding across the large, empty house of worship. ¡°Come! Meet your challengers! You have your response!¡±


    There was no response. The air remained silent, ready for someone to fall from the ledge. None raised their voice to match the Scythe¡¯s words.


    ¡°Something is wrong,¡± Aurora thought, her words mirroring my thoughts. ¡°There is an aura to the air. Something we have missed.¡±


    I agreed. Seris slowly lowered her arms, an uncertain cast to her face as there was no response. ¡°Do you cower, Varadoth?¡± she goaded instead, tilting her head. ¡°I did not take you for a coward. It was you who called for confrontation first.¡±


    ¡°You need to leave,¡± my bond insisted suddenly, a deep, wrenching terror splaying over our bond like a bleeding wound. It came in slow, pulsing heartbeats at first. Then faster. Overwhelming.¡°Get out, Toren! Get out now! Before he catches you!¡±


    My arm snapped out to the Scythe near me on pure instinct, my hand clasping her shoulder. She looked at me, seeming confused and affronted by the wrenching physical contact. But the pure, raw terror simmering from my bond¡¯s connection made my knees tremble and my eyes go wide. I opened my mouth, trying to voice something. Anything through the pervading fear that made my limbs shake.


    ¡°We need to leave,¡± I croaked, my voice sounding pitifully weak. ¡°Run. Hide. I don¡¯t know why, but¨C¡±


    Seris¡¯ onyx eyes widened as they met my own, seeming to sense the barest fraction of fear that coursed through my mind. Her pristine lips parted, preparing to reply.


    The massive metal doors of the temple slammed shut with a resounding boom, like the sound of a coffin lid sliding closed. My head snapped to the side, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.


    Then, nothing.


    My connection with Aurora went completely and utterly blank. I stumbled, feeling as if a hole had been ripped in my mind. Our tether went cold as stone. The sudden change from overwhelming terror to simply nothing caused me whiplash that made my vision swim. I stumbled, nearly falling over.


    The image of Seris in front of me doubled as my head throbbed, my vision struggling to focus. I wavered, feeling lost.


    The Scythe turned, grasping my shoulders with her delicate hands. She held my shoulders firmly, steadying me with a solid yet gentle touch.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said, her voice straining calm. ¡°Toren, tell me what you sense. Look at me. What is it that¨C¡±


    A pulse of heartfire brushed against my ears. It wasn¡¯t the roaring pulse of a star, as mine was. It wasn¡¯t the thundering death-drum of Varadoth.


    It was as if a hundred different rhythms¨Call disjointed and chaotic¨Cwere forced into one, broken sound. It was so utterly wrong.


    The sound traveled through my head, along my body, and through my arms and legs. Like a hundred skulls breaking apart over and over and over, but transformed into demented sound. The shrill scream of a violin¡¯s highest pitch melded with the deepest rumble of an angry drum¨Cand it tore at me.


    I fell to my knees despite the Scythe¡¯s steadying touch. She knelt with me, her brow furrowed in exponentially increasing concern. Her mouth moved, but I could not hear the words.


    The pulse came again. Almost quietly; soothingly. Like the cool breath of a winter storm as it promised death to all you loved.


    I vomited on the ground, unable to think through the wrongness of that heartfire. It shouldn¡¯t exist, like someone had stapled every single sound imaginable into one discordant chorus that scraped away at the ears. Scraped at my soul.


    I blinked, feeling my mind fuzz. Blood¨Cnot stomach acid¨Cdripped from my mouth, the red staining the dark cobbles around my hands.


    ¡°Such an interesting reaction,¡± an amused, smooth voice said from nearby. ¡°Certainly not one I have seen before today.¡± I heard the tinkling of jewelry, each chime so much more melodic than the last.


    Seris froze, her eyes blowing wide with a fear that mirrored my own. My limbs seemed frozen in place as my head slowly tracked up to the source of the voice, my foggy mind clearing at a wretched rate.


    But I wanted to stay uncertain. I wished for the fog to return and take my mind with it.


    And in its place, terror returned all the more powerful. The vast cavern in my mind, where Aurora usually dwelt, was horrifyingly empty, allowing every flavor of primal fear to take its place.


    I saw God.


    The figure wore dark, gold-patterned attire over his gray skin, the opulent robes framing a powerfully built body. Unruly black hair danced along a gently smiling face, scarlet eyes pinning me to the floor like a bug. The way he smiled almost made me feel comforted. Almost made me feel safe. Almost reassured me of my fate.


    Twin horns, like those of an elk, spiraled up from his forehead. Rings and trinkets hung from each diverging path, creating a glimmering flare of reflective gold. They clinked as he tilted his head, those eyes of his dancing happily. His shadow was that of the world itself. No darkness I had ever seen before could match the depths I stared into now.


    ¡°Spellsong, was it?¡± the High Sovereign of Alacrya, Agrona Vritra, said with a smattering of joviality. ¡°I wonder what¡¯s going on inside that head of yours.¡±

 Chapter 157: To Prove Ones Soul

    Toren Daen


    I had heard heartbeats that sounded wrong before. With my sense of lifeforce, I could listen in on the heartbeats of the smallest insects to the largest mana beasts. They all had different, subtle inflections in that pulse. A jump here could indicate fear or anxiety. A resounding pulse could tell me of their passion and adrenaline. And maybe a slow timbre sang a song of sleep and slumber.


    But Agrona¡¯s heartbeat was all of that. Every possible frequency and rise and fall and emotion and feeling and everything, all forced into a tiny singularity. But it wasn¡¯t a peaceful thing, made harmonious. It was as if the God of Alacrya had torn these emotions from the hearts of everyone around him and gorged himself on their discord. Agrona¡¯s lifeforce reveled in the chaos.


    That horrible heartbeat throbbed in my head again, making my vision swim. Blood leaked from my mouth, dripping onto the small pool I¡¯d hurled up not a second before. My limbs were heavier than stone. Heavier than iron. Heavier than lead.


    Agrona Vritra¡¯s footsteps echoed out across the empty temple as he descended the altar, his hands clasped behind his back. He smiled in a friendly way as he approached, each footfall the ringing of an executioner¡¯s bell. Every step heralded the end of a world.


    He stood not far away from where Seris clutched my shoulders tightly, observing us like we were pets that had misbehaved. I groaned, wanting to curl into a ball and hide. This was a nightmare. A figment of my fevered mind. I must still be in the shock of fighting Mardeth; in some sort of coma in a bed.


    Seris¡¯ breathing hitched as the High Sovereign watched us inquisitively. I saw the tremble of her lips; felt the terror in her intent. Yet she stayed kneeling, clasping my shoulders like a rigid, steadying statue.


    ¡°Seris,¡± Agrona said lightly, unclasping his gray hands from behind his back. ¡°Move away.¡±


    I felt the Scythe¡¯s hands clench tighter around my shoulders where she held me. I looked into her eyes, silently begging, pleading that she stay. I didn¡¯t want to be left alone with this monster. I¨CI couldn¡¯t be left alone. I was so, so alone. Aurora had already fled, and¨C S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sensing the Scythe¡¯s reluctance, Agrona shook his head. The jewelry adorning his horns jingled lightly like chimes. ¡°Seris,¡± he said again, shaking his head as if she were a dog that had torn apart furniture. His tone lowered slightly. Became ever-so-slightly threatening. He waved a single hand dismissively. ¡°Move.¡±


    The Scythe watched my eyes with her wide, onyx orbs, her arms shaking as they retreated from my shoulders. She haltingly stood, her movements jerky and unrefined as she stepped away. Her grace was gone, washed away in a tide of fear. Her fingers trembled as they left me, an unrelenting cold taking their place. The sole bit of warmth remaining abandoned me.


    Agrona Vritra rubbed his chin as he stared down at me, the horrible, horrible discordant heartfire blocking out nearly every other sound.


    But even as I stayed petrified on my knees, there was another presence in my body that refused to be chained. That hated everything the basilisk stood for on a fundamental level; that despised each and every decaying touch they left in their wake. That claimed the sky, and defied those that slithered across the wet earth.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s Will surged, rising to the surface of my skin against my wishes. I saw orange, feathering runes run along my arms, tracing their way under my sweat-soaked shirt. The chain enwrapping my left arm glowed a powerful red light, banishing the darkness in the cathedral, and I knew my eyes glowed with the light of a star.


    Only too late did I try and contain the raging power in my core. Too late did I realize what this would mean. Too late did¨C


    Agrona shook his head, laying a palm vast enough to block out the sky on the top of my scalp. I saw as his fingers ran through my deep, fiery red hair, the Will inside roaring in contained fury. ¡°When Lady Dawn threw her soul to the wind, I¡¯ll admit I expected something more interesting. For such a Discordant Note within the grand symphony, your power is¡­ paltry.¡±


    I felt his mana pierce my mind, the tendril beelining for the burning fury of my Phoenix Will. Its metaphysical wings unfurled, daring the High Sovereign to encroach upon its skies. Blood leaked from my nose as my body heated up, my physique unprepared for the depths of Soulplume. My mana surged without control, pulsing with the heat of a nascent star.


    Until Agrona¡¯s tendril wrapped the Will in its clutches. Casually, as if pushing aside the annoying snap of a fly, the Lord of the Vritra pressed down with his mental might. I screamed as tracks were torn through my mind, the power wrenched from my bones.


    Aurora¡¯s Will crumpled. The searing warmth that cascaded through my channels winked out like a candle flame, true shadow overtaking it. The power was compressed back into my core with minimal effort, the runes disappearing from my hands as all the light in the world was overcome by the surety of darkness.


    I fell forward onto my forearms, every sense I possessed going haywire. My breathing came in short, choppy gasps, the violation of my mind¨Cmy sanctum¨Cleaving me unable to even feel. My vision doubled. Tripled. Then fractured further. I vomited blood onto the ground again.


    Agrona stepped back, that tendril receding from my mind. A bit of my blood had somehow tainted his pristine skin. He flicked it away. ¡°I¡¯ll admit it was a novel idea, trying to possess a no-name lesser from the middle of the slums. Perhaps if Lady Dawn¡¯s soul held more power, she could have truly overwhelmed your pathetic little mind, Spellsong. The lingering effects of her presence in your head are amusing, with her Beast Will entrenched in your core. But what she truly left behind¡­¡±


    I curled into a ball, trembling as my blood pooled around me. I shut my eyes, trying to keep out the pain. Maybe, if I kept my hands over my head, I could stop that horrible tendril from scraping away at the insides of my thoughts. Maybe I¡¯d be safe.


    I was a child again, afraid of the unknown. I wanted my mother. I needed her warm, soulful embrace. Needed her to tell me it would be okay. That it was all a bad dream. That the monsters under my bed hadn¡¯t manifested before me to tear apart my very soul. I wanted to hear her sing a lullaby that would tell me it would all go away.


    But she had left me. Abandoned me in the dark.


    Agrona petted me on the head, ruffling my hair. My body creaked from his casual strength, my tendons stretching and my muscles straining.


    ¡°No matter,¡± the Lord of the Vritra said from above me. ¡°The main event must begin.¡±


    I looked up, my vision tainted red from my blood. Inside my core, the Phoenix Will of the Asclepius clan crooned in defeated terror, its metaphysical wings broken and torn.


    Agrona clapped his hands, the sound shaking the foundations of the temple, and two indistinct forms were hauled by hooded men toward the altar. Their hands were bound in black chains, utterly trapped.


    My vision slowly focused as I took in the two prisoners brought bound before the altar. The hooded men bowed deeply as they deposited the bodies, then retreated back into the shadows.


    My eyes widened as I noticed one. His horns twisted back from his bald scalp, wrenching up and through his eye sockets. Varadoth¡¯s dagger-like goatee was in disarray, a few cuts across his face and arms. His ragged robes looked even dirtier under the circumstances. His sockets wept a constant stream of black blood.


    For the first time since the High Sovereign revealed himself, I managed to have a single, coherent thought. Why is High Vicar Varadoth chained? He is the Voice of Agrona himself. What is going¨C


    My thoughts fell away as my eyes landed on the second figure. Their mousy hair¨Cwhich was usually pulled up into a conservative bun¨Cfell loosely around their shoulders. Unlike Varadoth, who stood ramrod straight even while shackled, this person was slumped, their breathing strained.


    I forgot how to breathe. Greahd.


    ¡°There are two here who defied my will,¡± Agrona said casually, but I had trouble comprehending his words.


    My focus was entirely on the woman who had helped me master the violin. Who had been a mother in place of my deceased parents. Who had taught me what it was to care for those who could not help themselves. In the face of her chained, prone form, even the High Sovereign of Alacrya felt¡­ inconsequential.


    Agrona stepped toward Varadoth, looking down at the bound High Vicar. ¡°Mardeth was a poison to all things he touched,¡± he commented lightly. ¡°Your actions in protecting him allowed countless citizens of my continent to die. You made it impossible for my agent¨Cmy Scythe¨Cto fulfill her duties.¡± The Lord of the Vritra cocked his head, a wry smile stretching across his face. ¡°It is possible to embrace any idealogy too much, Varadoth.¡±


    Varadoth slowly raised his head. I heard his hammering heartbeat quicken as he stared his lord god in the eyes. His power flexed, ripping out at the mana-suppressing shackles in a wave of force that washed over me like a tide. ¡°The foremost Doctrine,¡± he said coolly, not showing a hint of fear, ¡°Is to fight for one¡¯s self. To prove one¡¯s strength in every way,¡± he said, the chains that bound him snapping as his form swelled. ¡°All my life have I upheld these virtues. For a single purpose,¡± he snarled, rising into the air and away from Agrona. ¡°Today, I die. But I die as I lived.¡±


    The explosion of power pulsing from the High Vicar sent Greahd¡¯s body tumbling away. Acting purely on instinct, I hurled myself toward her, catching her and tumbling through the pews as Varadoth flexed his might. Scythe Seris, on the opposite end of the cathedral, began to fly toward me. Maybe to protect me. But she was forced to turn midair, throwing up a bubbled, black shield of pure mana as shadows engulfed everything.


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    I wrenched the defeated Phoenix Will in my core to the forefront of my mind, uncaring of how each touch scalded my channels and made my body ache. My hair painfully shifted colors, the array of runes burning as they dug themselves along my forearms.


    I threw my hand out, encasing Greahd and me in a bubble of white fire.


    The shadows licked and seeped over my protective barrier, the white fire straining to keep out the invasive dark. Blood dripped from my nose and eyes as Varadoth¡¯s pervasive power tried to rip my protections apart.


    I saw the High Vicar there, facing off against his Lord God. He hovered above his domain of shadows, holding his hand out to the side. The black streams of liquid that ran from his eyes shifted under his control, coalescing in his hands. The blood elongated into a perfect staff, each inch brimming with unfathomable power.


    ¡°I die today!¡± Varadoth declared, sweeping his staff to the side. A hundred tendrils of shadow speared out, trying to impale Agrona where he stood. I felt my coating of fire strain as the entire domain of darkness seemed to condense, the air becoming heavier. The chains on my arms flickered. ¡°I die with my soul intact!¡±


    Whenever the tendrils speared at the High Sovereign, they seemed to dissipate the moment they got a bare inch from his body. I could not see what happened; what power was causing them to evaporate. But it was as if time itself ground away the shadows to dust, the utter decay of the basilisk denying the spears of inky black any blood.


    ¡°Do you know the true origins of our decay arts, Varadoth?¡± Agrona said, not moving a single step as the world itself seemed to reject his presence. Tendrils tried to wrap around his legs. Tried to strangle his throat. Tried to do anything. But none could even touch the asura. His horns drank in the darkness. ¡°At the beginning, there was only one spell the basilisks could call their own. Not soulfire. Not blood iron. Not graveice or corpse poison.¡±


    The shadowy domain shifted tactics as Varadoth redirected the tendrils. They erupted from the expansive nothingness, gripping anything they could. The stones of the floor. The pews that lined the temple. Even the black and red glass, depicting every scene of the Vritra dominating the lessers beneath them. All swarmed inward in a terrible tempest.


    Wood and stone and glass buffeted my fiery barrier. Greahd whimpered beneath me as a shard of glass whizzed through, superheated red silicone nearly spearing me through the eye. I snapped my head to the side just in time, earning a burning cut along my scalp instead.


    I panted, pressing an unfocused wave of pushing telekinesis into my circular barrier. The strain of it all drained my reserves at a massive rate, Soulplume extracting every bit of mana as my Phoenix Will took its toll.


    I struggled to even hold off the shadows and debris, each speeding faster than the eye could perceive. But as they compressed around Agrona, I saw the barest flash of amusement in his scarlet eyes.


    ¡°There was only one spell unique to our race,¡± the High Sovereign¡¯s voice echoed out, somehow perfectly clear despite the coffin of ice, stone, and glass that surrounded him. ¡°One of decay; of weathering and erosion. But it was not a physical thing; no.¡±


    That horrid heartfire¨CAgrona¡¯s discordant rhythm¨Cpulsed. And then Varadoth¡¯s domain shattered. The High Vicar lurched in the air, a spittle of black blood erupting from his mouth as he felt backlash from his broken spell. The shadows fell away, every single bit of refuse and rubble that compounded against the High Sovereign seeming to weather away without a single cause.


    I fell to my hands and knees once more, my consciousness winking in and out as my Will retreated into my core, fearful and afraid. It took nearly everything I had just to protect myself on the outskirts of that spell, but Agrona didn¡¯t even have a scratch on his clothes.


    My vision came in spurts. I saw Seris Vritra¡¯s black barrier of mana as it slowly fell. Underneath, the Scythe was heaving for breath slightly, but unharmed. She looked over at me for the briefest instant.


    I must have blacked out for a moment, but the absurd swell of mana that poured from Varadoth¡¯s core wrenched me from my unconsciousness like smelling salts being shoved into the depths of my sinus cavities. Mana¡­ so, so much mana. More mana than I had ever felt in a single spell congregated in a blackened tide.


    Black blood poured from every orifice the High Vicar had. From his eyes, his ears, his nose¡­ Too much blood for a single person to have streamed toward the staff in his hand, condensing a dozen times over. The air itself warped with the power contained in that conjured weapon. Overtop of that, the shadows seemed to layer in on themselves as they danced and writhed along the liquid surface.


    When it was done, Varadoth was breathing heavily, his skin sinking inward not unlike how I had left Mardeth. He looked almost frail, but the horrid compression of swirling black blood in his hands told me the truth.


    ¡°I prove my soul,¡± Varadoth said weakly. His heartfire thundered like a gong, belying his lack of power. ¡°My death proves my worth.¡±


    Seris blurred toward me, a flash of silver and panicked features. She halted in front of Greahd and me, throwing up another one of her black, domelike barriers. This time, it covered me as well. She pressed more and more mana into the barrier, the edge sparking with purple-tinged soulfire as it thickened half a dozen times over. When she was done, the Scythe heaved for breath, her skin soaked in sweat as her breaths came in gasps.


    Varadoth threw his staff down.


    The tip pierced the floor near Agrona¡¯s feet. Then it began to grow, immediately elongating and thickening in a tide of blood. In no time, the pillar of power pierced the roof of the cathedral, and then continued to expand. The swirl blocked both from my sight.


    The wall of blood and shadow edged closer and closer toward where I lay broken, my only protection Scythe Seris¡¯ shield. I held up a weak hand, adding the barest barrier of telekinetic force to her spell. Anything to add just a little bracing force against the oncoming impact.


    Somehow, even as the rumbling swirl of an expanding pillar of blood and shadow reached me, I heard his voice. His smooth, amused voice.


    ¡°They say the eyes are a window to the soul,¡± Agrona said nonchalantly. ¡°Let me show you why, arrogant vicar.¡±


    I closed my eyes, waiting for the storm wall to finally hit. A beat of silence passed.


    Varadoth¡¯s spell never impacted us. Instead, the oncoming pillar simply dissolved, falling down without its previous ferocity. As if all its intent were erased.


    A tide of black blood washed around Seris¡¯ barrier, the force worth nothing of note. The rubble and debris of the battle¨Cif it could even be called that¨Cwere washed along in a gentle stream of dark liquid. I looked up, confused by the sudden failure of the spell.


    Varadoth stared down at Agrona. Though the High Vicar didn¡¯t have eyes, I could feel how his ¡®gaze¡¯ matched the scarlet pupils of his god.


    And I could sense it; feel the contact in Varadoth¡¯s intent.


    Like the tales of old, Varadoth seemed petrified by the gaze of Agrona Vritra, Lord of the Basilisks. The serpent held its prey in its gaze, and now they were naught but stone.


    But that wasn¡¯t right. No, what I felt happening¡­ it was so much worse.


    Varadoth fell from the sky. He hit the ground with a wet flop, his body limp and unresponsive. The High Vicar¡¯s intent became nonexistent, no inflection in his mana signature. No life to his core. The once-thundering booms of his lifeforce were now a horrible, horrible monotone. Like the flatline of a heart monitor, there was nothing except a subtle buzzing emanating from his body.


    I could not explain how I knew, yet some instinctual part of me understood. The part that could trace the heartfire threads all through the body.


    Varadoth¡¯s body wasn¡¯t dead. His heart still beat and he still breathed, even as he lay sprawled in the vast pool of dark blood that coated everything in the cathedral.


    But his mind¡­ his mind was gone. Eroded away in an instant too fast for me to comprehend.


    The sensation of that body, devoid of a mind¡­ It was nearly as horrid as the High Sovereign¡¯s collage of heartbeats themselves. One was far, far too much. A failed attempt at combining different tunes. But the other¡­


    The other was simply nothing. Looking at Varadoth¡¯s body¨Cit wasn¡¯t truly a corpse¨Cleft me feeling disjointed. It was like looking into the eyes of one you loved and seeing no recognition. No thoughts behind the veil. No true consciousness.


    I keeled over once more, struggling to remain awake through it all. The scouring effect of my unrestrained Phoenix Will left my body aching and burned, a subtle redness along my skin that belied my horrid state.


    I felt a boot nudging me in the ribs. Weary and unable to think, the toe rolled me to the side. I splashed into the black blood.


    Agrona stood over me. Except he wasn¡¯t focused on me. No, he was looking down at¡­


    The High Sovereign knelt, grabbing the bound Mother of Fiachra. I felt adrenaline course anew as the Lord of the Vritra carried her away from me, strolling toward the altar.


    No, I thought headily. No, no no! I need to move! To stop him, somehow!


    I groaned, my mana core aching as it flared. Power thrummed down my burned channels as I tried to push myself to my feet.


    A hand wrapped my shoulder, pulling me close. I stumbled into Scythe Seris¡¯ steady grip as she held me fast, her eyes carefully blank as she watched Agrona carry Greahd up the steps of the altar.


    ¡°No,¡± I muttered weakly. ¡°I can¡¯t let him¨C¡±


    Seris¡¯ hand covered my mouth, preventing me from speaking further. Her body trembled slightly as it held my weak struggles at bay. She refused to meet my pleading, begging eyes.


    ¡°I heard you said something very interesting during the Plaguefire Incursion, lesser,¡± Agrona said, setting Greahd down on her knees. She was still chained, any sort of power she may have had stripped further. The sun from above died away the moment it streamed through the gaping hole in the cathedral¡¯s roof. ¡°You are going to tell me exactly what it was you said.¡±


    Greahd, caked in black blood from where the thick liquid had flowed around her, slowly, pitifully, raised her head up.


    Except she didn¡¯t look at Agrona. She looked at me, her kindly eyes enwrapped by the deepest terror. My mind remembered Aurora¡¯s words long lost. Those so kind tend to burn themselves away in their selflessness.


    That moment stretched into a brief eternity. I saw it all there: her fear, her joy, her love. Every cookfire replayed in the depths of my mind. Every instance where she gave and gave and gave. And above it all, I saw her hope. Hope for what, I could not tell.


    Tears streamed from the edges of my eyes as I thrashed, fought, and struggled against Seris¡¯ grip. Her hand stayed over my mouth, denying me the ability to call out. To beg and plead for Agrona to stop. That I¡¯d give him what he needed if he¡¯d just spare the mother of this life.


    Greahd, her body trembling, turned to the preeminent asura of the world. ¡°We suffer because of you,¡± she said in a shaking voice. ¡°Every bit because of you. And you say that it is our pride to overcome our suffering with strength,¡± she pushed out, tears like dewdrops streaking down her face. ¡°But you will never let us simply live.¡±


    Agrona chuckled lightly, tilting the middle-aged woman¡¯s chin up with a perfect gray finger. ¡°You¡¯re correct, lesser,¡± he sneered. ¡°I don¡¯t suffer ants to live when they nip at my flesh.¡±


    Agrona¡¯s eyes met Greahd¡¯s.


    And then there was nothing within her soul. Greahd, who had brought nothing but kindness into the world. Greahd, who had been the only person to feed a populace abandoned by all others. Greahd, who was willing to teach a little boy how to play his violin simply because it made his eyes sparkle.


    And Greahd, who dared to defy Agrona Vritra.


    Her body fell limp like a doll¡¯s, splaying out across the altar as her head lolled sickeningly to the side. I looked into those eyes, seeing only the mist of nothingness. Where before there had been so much emotion, so much humanity, now only void remained.

 Chapter 158: The Result of Defiance

    Beta-read by Infinity21


    Toren Daen


    The dark blood sloshed underneath me as I fell to my knees, feeling something in my chest crack. Seris¡¯ hands loosened on me as I knelt weakly, my focus entirely on Greahd¡¯s horribly empty eyes. The monotone buzzing of her heartfire¨Conce so full of life¨Cscraped against the inside of my skull, digging out any sort of emotion and leaving a mirrored void in its place.


    Agrona sniffed, leaving the body on the altar. ¡°Seris,¡± he said, something contemplative in his tone, ¡°When you go to war against the Dicathians in a couple of months, you will take Toren Daen along with you,¡± he said, stepping down from the altar. ¡°It would be interesting to see the effects he has on the participants of this war.¡±


    The High Sovereign observed me, looking at my broken form. Part of me wondered if he wanted me to speak. To beg. To do something. But all I could do was stare numbly at Greahd¡¯s body, devoid of any mind.


    Seris knelt beside me, her hands trembling as her head dipped low. The Scythe kept one pristine hand to her breast, the other curling into a fist as it sank into the deep blood that soaked her flowing battledress. Her silver hair covered her eyes. ¡°Understood, High Sovereign,¡± she said quietly, barely a tremor in her voice.


    Agrona walked toward us, his feet sloshing through the half a foot or so of black blood that coated every surface. When his boots rose, nothing coated them.


    He stood between us for a bare moment. A deep, deep part of me wanted to hurt him. The part that still felt a modicum of bravery. A bit of wild vengeance. I wanted to rip Inversion from my waist and sink the white horn into the High Sovereign¡¯s chest; watch the light in his eyes go out as I tore every bit of that discordant heartfire from his body. I wanted it to be slow and painful. I wanted to leave only a husk behind.


    As only a husk remained of Greahd.


    But Agrona was right. I was weak; nothing to an asura. All that I¡¯d gained in the past few months? All the power I kept so close to my sense of self? I was but a candle flame sputtering in the night. Everything about me was inconsequential in the face of a true deity. Even Aurora cowered and crawled away in the face of such utter power. My mother left me as she sensed this shadow, because she knew any light she could give would only be smothered.


    When I¡¯d slain Mardeth, I¡¯d thought I knew the face of true darkness.


    I did not.


    ¡°Keep working as you are, Seris,¡± Agrona said, his charismatic voice echoing out into the deafening silence. ¡°It would be unfortunate if you were to disappoint me, too.¡±


    The High Sovereign walked toward the doors of the temple. I stayed on my knees long after the sound of his chaotic lifeforce left my range. Even as the afternoon sun overhead darkened, granting the innards of the temple a modicum of shadow. I was consumed by the static buzzing of Greahd¡¯s heartfire; the lack of anything resembling a soul echoing from her intent.


    Seris was the first to dare move. The Scythe unbent stiffly, taking several deep breaths as she forcefully centered herself.


    Then she strode forward, the swish-swish-swish of her dress echoing as if through water. Varadoth¡¯s black blood seeped up into her pristine clothing. Where before her dress evoked the darkness of the night sky, now Seris bore the stillness of the grave.


    Seris approached the altar, hovering up to the not-corpse of Greahd. She furrowed her brow in an expression of remorse, and a dark mana blade elongated from her hands. It flashed a dozen times, the chains binding the middle-aged woman falling away with a splash. Then Seris closed the woman¡¯s eyes gently.


    I felt as if a spell had been broken as Greahd¡¯s eyes were hidden from my sight. I heaved for breath, my body trembling as everything seemed to come back into focus. My mana channels burned from the searing touch of my Phoenix Will, my core aching in tune with my heartbeat. It felt hard to move at all, Aurora¡¯s Will weakly crooning and lamenting its horrid loss.


    And Aurora¡­ I could not sense her. My mind felt ravaged; violated in a way I had never experienced before. The deepest, most protected part of myself had been forcefully wrenched open, the intruder caring not for what damage he left in his wake.


    And my bond was gone. I could not feel her. Could not find her, no matter how I searched. She couldn¡¯t be dead; I¡¯d know if that had happened from the depths of my soul. But¡­ she¡¯d left me. Only fire remained in my mind.


    Scythe Seris floated over, Greahd¡¯s body held gently in her hands. I mutely looked up at the woman. How could she even stand? Where did she find the strength? S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seris held out the body. I blinked, then offered my arms up mutely. The Scythe held my gaze for a long moment as she set the limp form into my hands.


    Greahd felt so heavy.


    I was a mage. The world bent at my call, mana flowing through my veins at a single flicker of intention. I¡¯d achieved feats beyond any normal person in my old world. Yet this small woman¡¯s body was so, so heavy.


    Shouldn¡¯t I be able to lift a hundred bodies like these? I thought, feeling tears blur the edges of my vision again. She shouldn¡¯t be so heavy. I¡¯m strong. I should be able to carry her with ease.


    Yet the body remained heavier than anything I¡¯d ever held.


    Seris¡¯ hand caressed my shoulder in a strange, comforting gesture as I leaned my head forward, pressing my forehead against Greahd¡¯s. She was still so warm. The blood that pumped from her heart carried everything needed to keep her living. She still breathed in and out. But she would never wake.


    I¡¯d wrung myself ragged as I¡¯d thrashed against the Scythe¡¯s iron grip earlier. My mouth opened, but no screams came out. My tears fell silently, peppering the closed eyelids of the warm body in my hands. I rocked her back and forth, wishing I could just melt away. At my side, Seris held my shoulder, but I could not feel her comfort.


    I didn¡¯t know how long I spent cradling that body like a child being lulled to sleep. When I no longer had any tears left to give, I looked up at the opening Varadoth¡¯s spell had made in the cathedral roof.


    Dusk coated the sky beyond with an ironic tinge of purple and orange. Magentas and pinks and fuschias and ochres splashed across the sky in a display that would have been beautiful any other day.


    ¡°What was the point of it all?¡± the words eventually wrenched from my throat. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ll¡­¡± I shut my eyes, my breath shuddering. ¡°She did nothing to deserve this. She¡­ she was so good. Better than anything this wretched, horrible world deserved. Her kindness was repaid with this. With such brute cruelty. Countless others have defied Agrona. So much more. So why?!¡± I demanded, my voice sounding raw.


    My mind felt so blank. Ravaged and empty, devoid of the warmth I¡¯d always relied on from my bond. The only thing I could smell was iron, the coppery taste of blood coating my mouth.


    Seris squeezed my shoulder one last time before walking past me. She strode for the sole remaining person alive in this room, a purpose I couldn¡¯t understand driving every step. She looked down at the limp form of Varadoth. ¡°Agrona Vritra wanted to send two messages,¡± she said quietly, ¡°So he brought two bodies. And to get away with murder, one only needs the authority to call it execution.¡±


    The words the Scythe uttered pierced my heart like a blade. Greahd died because of me. Because of my actions. The High Sovereign wanted to send a message to me. Make some sort of statement. And so he wiped her mind, using her cries for justice as an excuse.


    I¡¯d thought myself some sort of hero. A symbol for Fiachra. I¡¯d even allowed myself the pitiful illusion that my actions made things better.


    The remembered chant of my Soulplume self mocked me with bitter irony, a bitter callback to my duel with Mardeth.


    ¡°We sing to the sky because their gods will not let them.¡±


    But the solid, infinite weight in my arms told me the truth. This was what happened when I tried to make a change. This was the end result of my defiance; of my desire for peace and understanding.


    The realization left a void in my chest nearly as wide as the one in Greahd¡¯s mind.


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    Seris summoned a blade of pure black mana. She looked down at the High Vicar¡¯s prone position. ¡°For what it is worth, Varadoth,¡± she muttered, ¡°You were true to your ideals, even to the end. I hope I will be the same.¡±


    She swiped her sword across his neck.


    The Scythe knelt, grasping the decapitated head by the small rungs of its horns. Varadoth¡¯s mouth hung open grotesquely, and far too little blood streamed from his withered throat. Seris held the skull in her hand as she strode back toward me, mana blade still in hand.


    I looked up at her, a yawning part of me hoping that she¡¯d swing that edge across my neck. Be done with it all. I was a danger to all things good in this world. First Darrin Ordin, and now Greahd of Fiachra. Every selfless person I touched burned away.


    Seris looked at the body in my hands, then back to me. Silent meaning threaded through her gaze as she asked an unspoken question.


    My eyes darted to the dark mana blade humming in Seris¡¯ grip. Varadoth¡¯s end was painless. Surely, Greahd deserved something just as swift? A quick swipe, and then nothing? It would be a mercy. She was in an infinite coma; destined to never wake again.


    But the life of the woman in my arms did not belong to me. I did not have any right to determine how she died, especially after what I had already put her through.


    I shook my head loosely. The mana blade in Seris¡¯ grip evaporated, falling upward into specks of black light that broke apart. She paused for a moment, then flourished her hand.


    Two items appeared from a dimension ring. A large, dark blanket, and a single vial of clear liquid on a long chain.


    Seris knelt in front of me, wrapping the glass vial¡¯s chain around Greahd¡¯s pale throat. She cinched the clasp closed.


    ¡°The extract inside of that vial has no scent, no taste, and is nearly untraceable. It is formed from the distilled toxin of the moonshade blossom. It is painless and quick. Were a¡­ conscious person to ingest it, they would quickly feel a bout of exhaustion, their limbs beginning to slow. Within ten minutes, their bodily functions would cease.¡±


    Seris took my hand, her delicate fingers interlocking with my own as she looked into my eyes. ¡°When the choice is ready to be made,¡± her smooth, cool voice echoed, ¡°Know this is an option for her.¡±


    ¡ª


    I stood numbly near the large metal doors of the Central Cathedral. The only light was from the setting sun, but inside the yawning temple, even the source of a star could be smothered.


    In my arms was Greahd¡¯s body, the dark blanket covering her from any potential eyes. She was heavy as ever, her weight on my conscience¨Cmy soul¨Cbeyond anything else.


    Seris held Varadoth¡¯s shrunken skull in one hand, her face smoothing out to an emotionless mask. She raised another hand, pressing it against the blood-iron doors.


    And then she pushed. Just as the first time she¡¯d done so, the doors swung open on their sturdy hinges, revealing the world outside in an array of light. The small lake of black blood that coated every surface inside the temple flowed out as it was given new avenues. It streamed down the steps like a waterfall, spreading outward like wretched roots.


    There was a massive crowd outside. Of course, there was. After all, the mana fluctuations of Varadoth¡¯s dreadful attacks must have been sensable from every corner of the city. Yet none wanted to intervene in a potential battle between a Scythe and the High Vicar. The levels of power that were being thrown around were enough to sweep any man away in the tide.


    A ripple went through the crowd as Seris revealed herself. Just as many uncertain eyes bored into me, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to care.


    Varadoth¡¯s black blood flowed down the steps like an unfurling carpet, paving the way for her descent. The Scythe stepped down, her face an impassive mask as she strode forward.


    The crowd buckled as the black blood flowed out, Seris trailing in its wake like a reaper. Most knelt. Some simply fainted at the aura the Scythe was letting out. And no few prayed to the Vritra, seeking direction in the uncertain times ahead. With the execution of the head of the church at the hands of a Scythe¨Cone of Agrona¡¯s chosen¨Cthe legitimacy of the Doctrination was shaken to its foundations.


    As Seris and I walked through the streets of Cardigan, all we were met with were stares of uncertainty and fear. Were I able to feel, those looks may have frightened me. Before this, I¡¯d wanted to be a harbinger of understanding. A force for change. How could I be that if all I garnered was terror?


    The message Seris portrayed was as clear as Varadoth¡¯s blood was black. She had entered the domain of the High Vicar with me in tow. And several hours later, we left together.


    With Varadoth¡¯s head.


    It took far too long to reach the teleportation gates. The attendant there, the same captain who had welcomed Seris several hours prior, paled visibly as he saw our approach.


    I smelt the distinct scent of urine as a small wet spot traveled from his crotch. ¡°Scythe¡­ Scythe Seris,¡± he said, seemingly unable to even think coherently. ¡°Where¨C what,¡± he said, his pinprick pupils darting to the ghastly gray head in the Scythe¡¯s hand. The neck dripped black liquid intermittently.


    ¡°Key the gate to Fiachra, Captain,¡± Seris commanded smoothly, unphased by the man¡¯s shaking knees.


    He stumbled back, doing something to the gate from a post I couldn¡¯t see. ¡°The gate is keyed, Scythe Seris,¡± he mumbled back, seeming unable to take the steps back toward the Scythe¡¯s barely contained aura.


    She stepped into the portal without preamble. I did the same a moment later.


    The familiar stretches of Fiachra opened before my eyes. I inhaled the scent of sweat and work, the endless grit of the people working to clear canals and pull their loved ones from the depths reaching my nose.


    Seris strode forward still, unspeaking. My limbs moved on their own as they followed behind her. The men and women we crossed paths with reacted differently from those in Cardigan.


    At first, there was fear. Deep terror from the twisting aura of the Scythe and the ghastly, sunken skull in her hands.


    But that quickly shifted to something that burned. A fiery, victorious surge in the collective intent rocketed up as a familiar chant began.


    ¡°Fiachra! Fiachra! Fiachra,¡± they called. The thunderous chants coursed through the air, the street rumbling beneath me even as people made way. I caught sporadic cries of, ¡°Spellsong!¡± and ¡°Scythe Seris!¡± throughout the cheers of victory.


    Each man and woman had reached the conclusion Seris desired of them, of course. The Doctrination had done nothing but grind this city under its boot, and now the Scythe of Sehz-Clar returned with the head of the High Vicar clasped in her hand. Fiachra had been hurt by Mardeth, and even in the wake of his death, there were wounds that would linger for decades.


    But with this? With this, Fiachra was avenged.


    Except it wasn¡¯t. This entire image Seris projected was a bitter, bitter lie. I had no doubt Agrona left Varadoth¡¯s body behind precisely so his Scythe could play this idea to the people. And the truth was, I wasn¡¯t certain Seris and I working together could have truly slain Varadoth.


    I looked down at the form wrapped in my arms. No, I knew the truth. Varadoth¡¯s power eclipsed even Seris Vritra¡¯s. I had no doubt in my mind we would have been overwhelmed and broken at his feet.


    A hollow, hollow victory. A victory nearly as hollow as Greahd¡¯s soul.


    Cylrit flew from the Fiachra Ascender¡¯s Association, hovering in front of his Scythe. His eyes softened imperceptibly as they took her state in. ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± he said, floating down and bowing respectfully. ¡°I take it you were successful with your¡­¡±


    The ever-stalwart Retainer trailed off as his scarlet eyes met my own. Something in my gaze¨Cor the lack of anything there at all¨Cdeeply unnerved him. He shifted slightly, his brow furrowing. He looked at the mute body in my arms, wrapped in a dark blanket like a funeral shroud. ¡°What has happened?¡± he asked instead.


    ¡°We shall speak more inside, away from prying ears,¡± Seris said seriously. She turned to me slightly, her hard eyes softening slightly as they looked at me. It was not pity that coursed through her. It was sympathy; understanding. ¡°You are more than welcome to join us, Toren. Considering¡­ circumstances, I cannot afford to let you roam on your own for too much longer.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No, I¡­ I need to speak with them all. About this.¡± I said weakly, denying the Scythe.


    Cylrit¡¯s brow furrowed even more, but not from disgust or mockery. From a genuine fear.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Seris breathed, a hand ghosting comfortingly across my slumped shoulder. ¡°When you are ready, we will need to speak.¡±


    I nodded, turning away. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said quietly, then began my funeral march.


    ¡ª


    East Fiachra was the least touched by the Plaguefire Incursion. Whereas all other boroughs of the city were swept away by the rampaging spells of the vicars, had cratered and overflowing canals, and had been burned away by Scythe Seris¡¯ purging flame in the aftermath, East Fiachra emerged as a beacon of sturdy support for the rest of the beleaguered districts.


    Familiar faces smiled as they spotted me, their eyes shining with welcome greetings. Yet as they took in my bearing, their smiles melted away. I ignored them as I trudged toward a familiar location. One of the first locations I¡¯d ever frequented when I¡¯d come to this world.


    One of my targets found me first. Naereni skated in from the side, barely managing to stop herself before she toppled into a nearby canal. Those were filled with water now, essential arteries restored their blood.


    The Young Rat smiled slightly as she gathered her balance. ¡°Woah,¡± she said, backing away from the edge. ¡°After my core advanced, I wasn¡¯t quite sure about how I¡¯d be able to moderate all my magic, but I¡¯m getting the hang of it.¡±


    Naereni turned slightly, her eyes darting everywhere. ¡°I slipped out of the Ascender¡¯s Association earlier today. I expected them to try and follow me. Especially Miss Horns, considering the neat necklace she gave me. But when I heard that you came back with her and she was holding a head, I had to get a scoop straight from the source.¡±


    She turned to me fully, her mouth open wide to continue speaking. Yet as her eyes traced from the body-shaped wrapping in my arms and back up to my eyes, her mouth shut with a resounding clack.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said, her voice wavering, ¡°Who are you holding? Who is it?¡±


    ¡°Gather everyone you can,¡± I whispered numbly. ¡°Everyone that has ever been a part of this district¡¯s heart. And bring Wade, too.¡±


    I looked past Naereni to the clearing behind her. This was where Greahd held her largest cookouts. A bustling place of life and laughter, a temporary escape from the harsh reality the needy faced. She was no longer here to give me an escape. No more were the days of life and laughter. Greahd''s final moments in the clearing would be that of mourning and death.

 Chapter 159: Mourning

    Toren Daen


    I¡¯d moved into a nearby building, keeping the light now as I laid Greahd¡¯s body on a sturdy wooden table. I kept the blanket over her face, unable to bear seeing her still-breathing corpse.


    Wade was the first to enter the cold home. Apple the skaunter was perched on his shoulder, its tail wrapped around his neck in a steadying way. When his eyes found the dark blanket, he moved to the side, seeming to sense the seriousness. He slumped into a chair, his lanky arms devoid of strength.


    Naereni wasn¡¯t far behind. She forced her way through the door, a frantic energy to her steps. ¡°Toren,¡± she started, her voice a bit too fast. ¡°I¡­ I went around. Told everyone that was a part of this place to gather at the old cookfire meetup; that you had some sort of announcement to make. But I¨CI couldn¡¯t find Auntie Greahd. When I asked around, I was told she was called away by some important-looking men a few hours back,¡± she said, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes darted to the covered body. She seemed terrified of that dark cloth, her eyes begging for any other possibility. ¡°Where is she, Toren?¡± the Young Rat asked with a small voice.


    I walked over numbly, looking down at the blanket Seris had provided. The cloth was detailed with deep, purple patterns, creating a beautiful array of color and comfort. I imagined the loving Mother of Fiachra wrapped snugly in this blanket as she passed out her soups to those who could not feed themselves.


    My knuckles clenched white over the rim. For a long beat, I hesitated. If I didn¡¯t pull back this cover, it didn¡¯t need to be real. It was just my imagination. Anyone could be under this dark cloth.


    I wrenched it back, like ripping a bandage from a wound. I felt something inside of me tear once more as I bore witness to Agrona¡¯s casual victim, her chest rising and falling solemnly as her eyes were closed in what could approach peaceful sleep. Her buzzing, flatlined heartfire scraped my mind.


    Naereni shoved me aside as she bolted forward, her hands shaking as they darted for Greahd¡¯s neck, checking for a pulse. She slumped in relief as she found one, but Wade gasped, digging himself deeper into his chair. His glasses slipped down his face, revealing unnerved brown pupils that sharpened to points.


    Naereni turned to Wade, her body locking up again. Her eyes snapped to me, then back to Wade. ¡°She¡¯s asleep, right? Toren, you can heal her of whatever caused this. You did it all the time these past few days. If it''s a coma, then that should be simple for you!¡±


    I looked away, unable to meet Naereni¡¯s pleading eyes.


    ¡°My¡­ my emblem. It allows me to sense¡­ minds. To connect to. But Greahd¡¯s¡­¡± Wade stuttered, seeming shellshocked.


    Naereni oriented on him, her mana flaring as she bored daggers into him. ¡°What?!¡± she snapped. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with her?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing there,¡± he muttered. ¡°I can sense people while they¡¯re sleeping. When they were down in the depths of the rubble. My rats could¨C¡± he shook his head, his shoulders shaking. ¡°But there¡¯s just¡­ nothing,¡± he said weakly.


    Naereni turned to me stiffly, as if each of her limbs were made of ice and she had to force them to move. She silently begged me for an answer.


    ¡°Her body is perfectly healthy,¡± I said in a low whisper. ¡°She¡¯ll breathe just fine. Eat whatever you may try and feed her. But Wade is right. Her mind was¡­ erased.¡±


    If there was even a smidge of thought left, a bit of perception I could latch onto, maybe I could¡¯ve healed Greahd. After all, I¡¯d managed a cursory healing of J¡¯ntarion¡¯s bedraggled mind long before this.


    But in Greahd¡¯s mute, monotone heartfire, there was no anchor. No beat I could sympathize with; no rhythm to attune.


    I could not heal her.


    Naereni raged. Her mana billowed outward in a black-cold nova, coating her fists as she threw them with wild fury. She left craters in the walls as she pummeled them, the rims of the wood creaking over with graveice. She picked up a chair, then hurled it at the wall. It exploded into a million splinters, the crack of wood not nearly as loud as her thundering lifeforce.


    As the young woman raged and thrashed in grief, I kept my eyes glued to the table. I¡¯d long since exhausted my ability to project such raw fury, the emotion beaten from me by the Lord of Alacrya himself. Wade, too, simply stared numbly, his intent reeling with shock.


    Naereni panted, the air in front of her frosting darkly. Sweat beaded down her temples as she spun, her hand snatching my collar. My body was still coated in my own blood and that of Varadoth.


    She pulled me close. ¡°Tell me what happened, Toren!¡± she demanded, her voice raw and her eyes wild. ¡°Tell me!¡±


    I met her eyes with my sad, empty ones. ¡°You won¡¯t believe me,¡± I muttered.


    Naereni shook me weakly. ¡°Tell me,¡± she pleaded instead. Feeling the wafting grief that she projected into the air made my own heart break in two all over again.


    And so I told her the truth. Not the cultivated story Seris no doubt touted as an official recounting of the events, but the true incursion of Agrona himself.


    At the mention of Agrona Vritra waiting for me in place of Varadoth, Naereni¡¯s breath left her lungs, her legs trembling as she stumbled back from me, grasping the table for support. But I didn¡¯t stop. I spoke of how, after Agrona had made my weakness clear to me, two chained forms had been dragged before the altar.


    I glossed over Varadoth¡¯s execution. But language failed me when I explained how Agrona had held Greahd up, demanding she tell him what she had said in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion.


    My throat closed up as the event flashed through my mind again. I thought I had no tears left to shed, yet I felt them building along the edges of my vision, blurring Naereni¡¯s broken stare from my sight.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± I wheezed out, lowering my chin and looking at the table. ¡°Agrona¡­ he wanted to send me a message. Using those I cared for. If I had never¡­ If I had never altered this world, then Greahd would still be alive. She wouldn¡¯t have been executed like an animal.¡±


    The fist that impacted my jaw was not unexpected. Naereni¡¯s knuckles cracked against my face as they drove me backward, causing my rough balance to crumble. I stumbled onto my back, but the Young Rat was faster. She mounted my chest, her eyes flashing with tears as she brought her fists down on my face once more. A streak of my blood stained the floorboards.


    But the third strike never came. Instead, she grasped my collar. She limply pulled me up so that my eyes were forced to look into hers.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare,¡± she said through a stream of tears, ¡°Don¡¯t you dare


    say that this is your fault,¡± she croaked. ¡°That¡¯s what they made us all think. That¡¯s the excuse that they used.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I muttered weakly, uncertain. My hands were limp at my side. I deserved this beatdown, just as I deserved the one Darrin had given me. This was supposed to be my punishment. So why did she stop?


    ¡°Every single mage said that it was the fault of us unads that we didn¡¯t awaken our runes,¡± Naereni continued, her breath heaving. ¡°The Doctrination told us we deserved our suffering for our weakness. And Greahd did everything she ever could to show us that that was wrong! And she did prove it! You proved it, too! You don¡¯t get to deny her that, Toren! You fucking don¡¯t!¡±


    I stared up at the ceiling, dazed by Naereni¡¯s rant as she buried her forehead into my chest, continuing to weep once more. Eventually, Wade stood up, the calmest of us all. On shaky steps, he moved over to his lover, massaging her shoulders.


    Gradually, Wade managed to peel his love¡¯s weak body from my prone form. He held her gently, sitting on the floor by my side as painful silence enveloped us all.


    ¡°There is a vial around her neck,¡± I said weakly, staring at the wood-slatted ceiling. ¡°It has a poison in it. One that acts quickly and painlessly for those who take it.¡± I paused. ¡°I did not bear the right to make any decision on my own.¡±


    Naereni pulled herself from Wade¡¯s arms, marching over to the body. She found the vial quickly, ripping it from Greahd¡¯s pale throat. She glanced at us with red-rimmed eyes, her face set in a mask of determination, before marching out of the room.


    Wade and I were left alone. The temperature had dropped significantly as Naereni had expressed her ice-laden grief, leaving my breath misting as I stared numbly upward.


    ¡°You said Agrona killed Varadoth,¡± Wade said numbly, ¡°And then Greahd, too?¡±


    Wade seemed strangely still as he stared at Greahd¡¯s body. I didn¡¯t respond.


    ¡°He fears you,¡± the sentry said quietly. ¡°And¡­ he fears Scythe Seris.¡±


    My head lolled to the side as I looked up at the rat controller in mute surprise. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, disbelieving.


    ¡°Before Greahd started making changes in East Fiachra,¡± Wade started, ¡°Gangs were the greatest power in the streets. They controlled who did and didn¡¯t get blithe. They made sure certain people were safe and others were found in the empty canals,¡± the sentry said.


    ¡°My mother,¡± the young man said, forcefully modulating his words, ¡°Was the daughter of a rough man. Maybe a bit too rough. My grandfather¡­ way back when, he started making a name for himself. And the other leaders? They didn¡¯t like that. So they took my grandmother, and an uncle I would never meet, and¡­¡±


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    Wade shook his head, his curly locks swaying. ¡°Simple, cruel gangster tactics. That¡¯s how they keep power. By making examples of the ones that scare them. It worked against my grandfather.¡± The sentry clenched his fists. ¡°Don¡¯t let it work on you.¡± He looked at me from the side of his glasses. ¡°Naereni was right,¡± he said, his breath trembling slightly. ¡°All Greahd ever did was prove that mindset wrong.¡±


    He walked after his lover a minute later, leaving me to stare blankly at the ceiling.


    ¡ª


    Naereni held Greahd¡¯s body as I stepped in front of the crowd. Already, I could feel the growing dismay and grief of the people as they saw the Young Rat clutching the form of the Mother of East Fiachra.


    The only people present today were the long-standing citizens of East Fiachra. The same ones who had risen in defence of their city; who had risen in defiance of their oppressors.


    Their quiet tension was only kept in check by my tired form.


    ¡°I wish I didn¡¯t have to call you here,¡± I said aloud, my shoulders slumped and weary. Far above, night had finally gripped the sky in its blanket. Just like the blanket that covered Greahd earlier. ¡°But you all have a right to know.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t changed. My pants were still caked in Varadoth¡¯s dark, black blood. My light shirt was soaked to the depths with my blood, and I had no doubt my eyes carried a quiet exhaustion. ¡°Earlier today, High Vicar Varadoth offered me a challenge. And with the Scythe of Sehz-Clar, I rose to meet it.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t tell these people the truth. That Agrona had slain their Mother himself.


    ¡°But Varadoth had another purpose,¡± I said quietly. ¡°He wanted us to suffer. Wanted to beat us back down for daring to step up.¡± I ground my jaw. ¡°We slew him.¡±


    The crowd shuffled uncertainly. The news I gave was positive. I¡¯d avenged the Plaguefire Incursion. But the shadowed form of Naereni behind me dampened that fire.


    ¡°But not before he could take something from us. Someone,¡± I breathed, closing my eyes.


    Naereni stepped forward, holding the body of her Auntie. I felt the roiling grief. Heard the pained cries. And I felt the boiling fury.


    ¡°The Doctrination is broken,¡± I said, my sound-laden voice cutting through the crowd¡¯s surge. ¡°But this is the price.¡±


    I walked away, my mind too tired to continue any sort of speech. The people surged forward, crowding around Naereni as they tried to see their Mother one last time. The person who had fed them; clothed them, cared for them when nobody else would.


    The crowd began to grow into an unruly mess as shellshocked, disbelieving expressions traced toward the Young Rat¡¯s arms. Fear, denial, and anger became king once more.


    I threaded through the mourning crowd like a ghost, moving to the canal. Clear water burbled through, unlike before. I looked at my sullen, wraith-like form in the reflection of the water, craving the warmth of Aurora¡¯s bond. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°They wanted us to break!¡± I heard a voice cry. I started, turning around with surprise. Naereni was standing atop a box, pure fury writ upon her face. ¡°They wanted us to see her dead! To see her mind erased and feel despair! They can¡¯t stand to see us rise! To see us strong!¡±


    Naereni slammed her foot down, her heel erupting in frost. ¡°We¡¯ll show them why that won¡¯t work. Tonight, we cook! We eat! And we dance! Just as Greahd always had us do! Because this will not break us!¡±


    The Young Rat continued to speak. Continued to talk of all the Mother of Fiachra had done for them. What she wanted in life, and surely what she would want in death.


    The crowd thrummed. I watched in quiet fascination as people, even while they wept and stomped their feet, began to disperse into familiar actions. I was still as a statue as, gradually, wood was gathered. Pots were prepared. Food was readied, familiar stews steeping over a steady fire.


    ¡°How?¡± I asked out loud. Not to anyone in particular. I didn¡¯t understand how a single people could go through so much and just keep putting one foot in front of the other.


    ¡°They have hope,¡± a smooth, familiar voice said from my side. ¡°It takes so, so much to nurture that fire of hope. But once it burns, it is nigh impossible to extinguish.¡±


    I turned, surprised to see¡­ Renea Shorn? I blinked, my eyes darting around. I hadn¡¯t sensed her approach, of course. But I was confused as to why the Scythe of Sehz-Clar would bother with her mask any longer. Her silver hair was once again navy-streaked black, and the structure of her face shifted slightly. But those eyes were the same.


    ¡°Is the answer that simple?¡± I asked, feeling¡­ something in my chest.


    Renea linked her arm with mine, shifting a bit closer as she observed the people milling about with grief-laden determination. I melted into her touch, feeling my stance shift as I finally had a pillar of support.


    ¡°It may be an oversimplification,¡± Renea¨CSeris¨Callowed. ¡°But that is what motivation can be simmered down to. One must have hope for their actions to matter. Even in the smallest ways.¡±


    Her petite body looked so small, but as I leaned into her, she was able to keep me standing without effort.


    ¡°Where do you find your hope?¡± I found myself asking. Where can I find my own?


    Seris looked up at me, her onyx eyes deep and turbulent. Her hair¨Cshifted black by her cloaking artifact¨Cseemed to drink in the night. ¡°More masks you wish to take away from me, Toren,¡± she reminded coolly.


    I turned away, feeling guilty. Seris shook her head, then conjured a small black fire over her palms. I watched as she lightly pressed it against my chest, the purple-tinged flames eating away at the grime over my vest.


    In a bare instant, the sigil of Named Blood Daen returned, stark orange against the dirt and blood that caked my clothes. Seris¡¯ finger traced the glyph of a knife through a burning heart.


    ¡°You have what you need beneath the layers others try to burden you with,¡± she said softly. Her hand rested for the barest moment where my heart was, feeling as my pulse quickened. ¡°You have a light deep within you, Toren. You need to find a way to let that outshine the darkness around you. Look around at all the warmth you have helped cultivate.¡± She paused, then pulled her hand away from my heart. ¡°In essence, Varadoth was right when he spoke to you. Through perspective, we wield power. And by changing your own perspective, you gain power over yourself. A power none can take from you.¡±


    I released a shuddering breath. ¡°Power over oneself,¡± I echoed, watching as the unadorned of East Fiachra trudged through more hell. Could I¡­ could I do that? Take control of myself in such a needed way?


    Naereni marched toward us as if she were stomping to war. Her cold eyes flicked between me and Seris, narrowing in apparent annoyance.


    ¡°You two lovebirds aren¡¯t going to get out of working so easily,¡± she snapped, pointing a finger at us. ¡°Miss Beaker, the stews need someone to tend them.¡±


    My jaw gaped as the Young Rat ordered a Scythe to make stew. My eyes flicked from Naereni to Seris, disbelief threading through me. Seris simply raised a dark brow.


    She doesn¡¯t know, I realized. Of course, she doesn¡¯t! Seris didn¡¯t exactly make it public that she¡¯s Renea Shorn.


    I coughed nervously into my fist. ¡°Uh, Naereni? Maybe you shouldn¡¯t¨C¡±


    Naereni strode forward, thrusting her hand out. My words choked off as I saw what was in it.


    A lute. Greahd¡¯s lute.


    ¡°We need music,¡± she said, her voice suddenly small again. ¡°And¡­ and Greahd can¡¯t play anymore.¡±


    I hesitated. Then a gentle hand on my back nudged me forward. ¡°Embrace the warmth, Toren,¡± Seris¡¯ beautiful voice said. ¡°Change that perspective.¡±


    I numbly took the lute from Naereni¡¯s hand, looking up at where a bonfire was slowly being cobbled together. I absently noticed Seris sweeping toward the stew area, her stereotypical grace having long since returned. The masked Scythe bore a light smile on her dark lips that belied her contentment.


    I inspected the lute. ¡°I¡¯m not the greatest lute player,¡± I said weakly. ¡°Not as good as Greahd was.¡±


    Naereni shook her head. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be,¡± she said. ¡°Just play your part. She taught you how to play in the first place, and this is all for her. To show her we haven¡¯t forgotten.¡±


    I swallowed, then stepped toward the bonfire. Greahd¡¯s lute felt heavy in my hands, the well-cared-for instrument far too precious for me.


    I stood in front of the large accumulation of wood and tinder as the final pieces were set in place.


    The men who had been depositing the fuel nodded respectfully, backing away as I neared.


    I ignited a small speck of flame on the edge of my finger. I watched it dance in the night, quietly mesmerized by the jumping sparks of mana. Then I flicked it into the base of the bonfire.


    In no time at all, a roaring beacon of warmth called the people forward. Quietly and solemnly, all present mustered in to feel this special fire.


    I laid my hands on the lute¡¯s strings, strumming a quiet familiar tune. The only sound audible to the world was the crackle of fire and the vibration of music.


    I knew what to sing.


    I opened my hoarse, ragged throat, singing a familiar tune. One all these people had heard before. The chords echoed out on Greahd¡¯s lute as I played the simple melody, closing my eyes to the light.


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And never brought to mind?


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And days of auld lang syne?


    The emotions that flowed from me were deep and complex. The grief I felt at the loss of one of my anchors. The surety that I would lose more that were close to my heart. And the fear of pushing past my shell of layered darkness.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    And all around me, East Fiachra sang the same mournful tune. They lamented their loss. Lamented the days past, when their Mother cared for them. They lamented all that was gone.


    We have traveled ¡®round the slopes,


    And picked the daisies fine.


    We¡¯ve wandered many weary foot,


    Since days of auld lang syne.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    But they also felt a burning drive. A drive to be more; to be what Greahd hoped they could be. Knew they would be. Every man, woman, and child fell into the rhythm, embracing that dangerous hope. That fire that could not be quelled.


    And as the song continued and I faced the fire, I felt that perhaps I might just be able to peel away that darkness, revealing the same fire underneath.

 Chapter 160: Participants [End of Book 3]

    Wren Kain IV


    I watched the lesser boy, Arthur Leywin, as he mowed down another dozen golems. His hair was a deep white, yellow runes tracing all along his body as he flourished Dawn¡¯s Ballad. The boy threw an arcing current of black lightning, the tendrils snapping between different mana constructs. When one of them neared, throwing a fist that could pulp boulders, he simply sidestepped, coating his blade in white fire and decapitating it with ease.


    I lounged inside a cozy nook in the crater, scribbling down notes as the boy worked through the army with deadly efficiency. There was a coldness to his aura that made even me shudder sometimes.


    Was he ever loved as a child? I wondered. I don¡¯t see why else he¡¯d be so strange for a lesser.


    I snorted with irritation as I marked down his mana output. Absolutely astounding for a human, I supposed. But it should be far higher, especially as the legacy holder of Lady Sylvia¡¯s Will.


    ¡°Arrogant dragons,¡± I said, scratching my hair with a bit of irritation. I flashed back to Lord Indrath¡¯s lofty order to train the boy. ¡°Can¡¯t train him properly if you don¡¯t even tell him all there is to his Will now, can I?¡±


    Part of me truly wondered what this Dicathian lesser would be able to do if Lady Myre had allowed him full access to her daughter¡¯s powers. But no; Arthur Leywin was only allowed to dip into a fraction of his true abilities. The millennia of condensed insight he might be able to tap into would be truly worth the study.


    The boy had asked me a while ago if it was possible for a lesser to match an asura in magical strength with enough practice, and I found my self-control wavering. The data I could gather would be absurd!


    And all I would need to do would be to defy a direct order from Lord Indrath.


    No thanks. Many of my fellow titans called me various words that were all synonyms to ¡°batshit insane,¡± but I wasn¡¯t that insane yet.


    I suspected Lord Indrath would wait for the lesser boy to die of old age before coercing him into passing the Will back to Lady Sylvie. Truly a waste of an opportunity, if I were to say.


    I pulled myself to my feet, strolling over to a nearby device I crafted over the course of a few weeks. I narrowed my eyes as I inspected its deep ochre surface, noting the slot at the top that was perfectly shaped for a blade. The last time that sword of Arthur¡¯s had burned¨Cthis time white-hot¨CI¡¯d swiped it from him, thrusting Dawn¡¯s Ballad into the rigid stone. And I¡¯d been able to isolate the signal; where the resonance originated from.


    Dawn¡¯s Ballad.


    I thought once more of Aurora Asclepius. The sister of the Lost Prince was considered cool and aloof by many before the Asclepius Clan¡¯s disappearance, only burning hotly when it came to matters of battle. She was one of the prime targets for marriage of the generation for her beauty, her strength, and her perfect poise.


    I ground my teeth as I looked down at the device I¡¯d used to track the phoenix.


    Early in my many millennia of life, I had been somewhat ostracized, even amidst my own race. For a titan, I was¡­ different. Our race¡¯s mana arts were maximized for creativity and craftsmanship. Our blacksmiths were the eminent workers of all asura; our hammers primed to make the best weapons and tools in any world.


    Because our clan alone had made a pact with the Sacred Fire. That impossible flame; kept secret in the deepest tunnels of our sanctum. While the other clans of titans could craft wondrous marvels, none could ever hope to match those of the clan of Kain.


    Youths in the clan of Kain were gifted a single ember of that impossible flame once they reached their majority: an ember that would follow them for all their lives. That would grow as they focused their mana through it, imbuing each strike of a forgehammer with impossible heat and using the resonance to create true marvels.


    But I was born small and weak. My mind was sharper than any blade my clan ever forged, but what use was the mind when you needed pure, brute strength to exercise your clan¡¯s arts? And by the standards of a clan renowned for their blacksmiths and metalworkers, where every hammer stroke and pulse of Sacred Fire pushed a weapon closer to perfection? I was less than nothing. A¡­ a lesser.


    I did not remember why I had been along the great cliffs west of the Starbrand Sanctum that day, the floating home of the Asclepius Clan looming far in the distance. I simply remembered my anger. The cretins that called themselves my family couldn¡¯t appreciate what I could do, if just given the chance.


    And then I¡¯d heard it. That wondrous, beautiful singing had pulled on my soul. I¡¯d flowed as if in a trance toward the source, weaving through the Charwood forests to a hidden glade.


    And when I¡¯d seen the woman within singing from the depths of her soul, something in me changed.


    I had researched every emotion I could. The best I could tell, emotions such as ¡®love¡¯ boiled down to signals fired in the brain due to distinct chemicals. Oxytocin and dopamine worked in concert to stimulate the brain¡¯s attraction and reward systems. That was all there was to it. My elders had mocked me for that, too. Saying I¡¯d clearly never loved someone before.


    And for the first time, as I stared at the beautiful phoenix as she sang a haunting tune through the glade, I realized that they might have been right. Surely, what I¡¯d felt couldn¡¯t just be¡­ Just be chemicals. It didn¡¯t make logical sense. There had to be something deeper there; something more.


    But then she¡¯d caught my small, lanky person staring at her. In the moment, I¡¯d shied away. Expecting disgust or cruelty. After all, I was defective. What could the beauty of the Asclepius Clan ever see in me?


    Instead, she¡¯d chuckled lightly, inviting me to try and sing with her.


    My voice was scratchy, raw, and altogether unpleasant. I had a better chance making a device that could turn my voice into a deadly weapon of war than to create anything beautiful. I learned that day that I would not sing, and I never would be able to. I think that was what made her seem even more beautiful to me. That even as she held all the talent in the world in her hands, she did not belittle me for the lack of it.


    I remembered spending the day in that glade, talking to the woman with a comfort I¡¯d never experienced before. She listened to me as I spoke of my plans; of how I wanted to alter the arts of my clan to suit my weakened stature. I had not revealed the depths of the Pact or of the Sacred Fire, but I said all I could. Her burning eyes had asked questions all on their own as I continued.


    I remembered her words. ¡°If you cannot hammer a weapon, splintering away material and honing it further as the arts of your clan require,¡± she¡¯d asked, ¡°What stops you from growing one yourself? Nurture the craft as you need, taking the time you surely have to slowly cultivate a true result?¡±


    I¡¯d paused, my brain hitching at the simple suggestion. ¡°Like a plant?¡± I¡¯d asked, not quite understanding yet.


    Lady Dawn¨Cfor she had not yet allowed me the use of her name¨Chad simply shaken her head. ¡°No. Like a child.¡±


    An entire world opened before me as she uttered those words. My mind had immediately jumped to acclorite. The material was rare for its ductility and ability to absorb mana imprints. In the wilds of Epheotus, miners had to be extremely careful in its extraction for fear their mana would mutate the structure in exponential waves. The volatile metal was mostly used to demonstrate mana theory to young asura, but if I could somehow control how the absorption was funneled¡­


    Above all, the Sacred Fire of Kain desired to be molded; shifted and used to create impossibly great works. But while it could burn hot, it was not a fire of war or destruction. What else could tame the wild absorption of acclorite? What else could bring the rampant absorption of the ductile acclorite to a calm, temperate flow?


    My first creation using this idea, so many millennia ago, had been Dawn¡¯s Ballad. Of all the suitors Aurora Asclepius met, all were turned away.


    But they went about it wrong. They didn¡¯t know her. Didn¡¯t know her passions, her love for the world. They didn¡¯t understand how she wished to see a child grow.


    And so I¡¯d created a child of my own. Dawn¡¯s Ballad, at first glance, was a pathetic blade. Against even the weakest of asura, it would shatter and drift to the wind. But if it were to be given the slightest drop of Aurora¡¯s blood, then¡­ Then, just like a mother cultivating her child, it would become something more.


    But before I could offer my betrothal gift and ask for her hand in marriage, the entire Asclepius Clan had disappeared. Vanished as if off the face of the planet. Rumors circulated that they¡¯d gone to join Agrona in his rule over the lessers. But I knew better.


    One time, and only once, did Dawn¡¯s Ballad shine with orange-purple light. The signal it left was faint and broken, and I¡¯d barely managed to track it to the depths of the Beast Glades in Dicathen. But there was nothing.


    I¡¯d left the sword in the forest in despair. I would never see that signal again; that sign of life.


    I fell away from the memories, looking at the device I¡¯d created. The High Sovereign of Alacrya had layered his continent in a hundred and one different obscuring webs, masking his presence from all who would try and scry through them.


    But I was Wren Kain the Fourth. I was the greatest mind the Clan of Kain had ever developed. It was my genius that elevated our weapons to treasured artifacts. It was my mana arts that pushed the bounds of what truly separated science from magic.


    And no mere wards would stop me from finding Aurora. Agrona Vritra thought himself wry and conniving, but his genius was nothing to mine.


    The device finally gave a set of precise coordinates, automatically showing their location on my map of the world.


    Fiachra.


    Chul Asclepius


    I marched through the tunnel, feeling quiet fury trailing in my wake. I ignored the unsure looks I saw from the many phoenixes I passed, exchanging looks with their companions. They were accustomed to their lives of luxury and relaxation. They could not fathom the fury I carried like a deep bonfire in my chest.


    Months before this time, the last gift of my mother¨Cone of her true feathers, engraved with her unique spell so that I may always know her state¨Chad been consumed by darkness. It was a sign that her inner fire had been extinguished; swept away to the void beyond. It was presumed by the phoenixes of the Hearth that my mother was dead, but they had long thrust her from their hearts. Once word of her capture by the Vritra had become known, they¡¯d left her behind, unwilling to even retaliate.


    And yet her feather had rekindled not long after as if by true magic. My mother somehow, impossibly, lived once more. And since then, the memento of my mother had sparked alive with more activity than in the past century.


    But still, the others took no action.


    I bullied my way into the large meeting room. From a wider perspective, it appeared to be some sort of theatre, with black columns of wood supporting balconies of gray marble. The autumn leaves coated the fringes of the wood, adding an air of calm that was impossible for me to feel.


    Down at the central platform, the phoenixes of the Hearth deliberated their next course of action. The central table¨Cdepicting the lost city-scape of Zhoroa¨Cheld court to some of the most powerful beings in this world.


    My uncle, Mordain, calmly watched the quiet debate with his leisurely posture. Soleil Asclepius offered a counterpoint to something Aurora¨Canother phoenix named in honor of my mother¨Csaid. They all lounged in conjured seats, speaking in even tones. In tones devoid of passion.


    Mordain¡¯s eyes found mine first. They held my mismatched gaze as I stomped into the meeting, disrupting what chat they were having.


    ¡°It has come to my attention that discussion has been called on the topic of my mother,¡± I said, crossing my arms over my chest. ¡°But I was not included in the roster of attendants.¡±


    Soleil was the first to talk. ¡°We merely wished to discuss her current likely state,¡± he said dismissively. He was one of the older Asclepius members, and his disregard for my anger was clear. ¡°It seems to us that the reactions you receive from her feather may be a fluke of some sort. An error in her spellcraft.¡±


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    Mordain shook his head. ¡°You knew my sister better than that, Soleil,¡± he chided calmly. ¡°Chul simply wishes to know what actions may be taken and be included in those decisions.¡±


    Soleil looked down at the table, a hand brushing his deep orange beard.


    Aurora of the Vine¨Cfor that was her moniker¨Cquietly raised a hand. ¡°We know what you wish, Chul,¡± she said, shaking her head, ¡°But it is impossible. As we have said many times. The safety of the Hearth is imperative. To send any sort of force out, even to search for signs of your mother, would endanger the sanctity of this home.¡±


    ¡°So you shall continue to hide?¡± I said, feeling another beat of fire. I frowned with anger, though I knew the result of this conversation anyway. ¡°The treacherous Vritra must be punished for their actions. There will be no justice otherwise,¡± I said, feeling my core thrum.


    ¡°What is justice, Chul?¡± Soleil countered. ¡°When you say the Vritra must be punished, what do you mean?¡±


    I blinked, surprised by this course of inquiry. ¡°A life was taken,¡± I said with fervor. ¡°So it is only just recompense that blood is spilled in turn.¡±


    ¡°How much blood?¡± Soleil prodded. I opened my mouth to reply, but the phoenix continued on. ¡°One life¡¯s worth? You could measure the exact amount of blood in your mother¡¯s body, Chul, and spill that exactly. But your mother is worth more than one life, is she not? So how many bodies¨Chow many basilisks¨Cwill it take to equal the worth of your mother?¡±


    I responded brusquely, irritated by this pointless divergence from the point at hand. ¡°As many as are needed,¡± I snapped, my muscles flexing. The part of me that was honed for battle sensed some sort of trap, but I ignored it. ¡°The Vritra took my mother from me. They must pay for that act!¡±


    ¡°But when does it stop, Chul?¡± Soleil said sternly, meeting my eyes. ¡°Will you commit genocide, as Lord Indrath did?¡±


    I took a step back, his words striking me as if a blow.


    ¡°How many children will you deprive of their mothers?¡± Soleil pushed. ¡°How many will equal Aurora¡¯s life?¡±


    I opened my mouth again, ready to answer. As many as I need to cool the fire in my heart, I thought.


    My mouth clicked shut. I turned on my feet, stomping from the large room. My fist cratered the gray marble walls of the tunnels, fire burning along my knuckles. I wanted to scream and rage. To vent my fire. But every tree in the Hearth would burn.


    That was by design. To force what were once the greatest hunters in Epheotus to become peaceful songbirds, unable to light even a spark.


    My feet carried me while my mind churned. I didn¡¯t know how much time had passed as I stalked through the Hearth, but when my head cleared enough for conscious thought, I was before a familiar stream.


    Our stream, I thought, glaring at the pristine waters.


    Memories flashed through my head, faster than I could bury them. Of my mother¡¯s cool hands on my shoulders as she taught me my martial forms along these banks. Where I would play at hunting wraiths with her, and my father would teach me the many details of the stars.


    I was named after the greatest patch of stars in the sky. The Chulsen Cluster was only visible during the Aurora Constellate, but when those stars shone, they were brighter than anything else.


    ¡°A small, beautiful window of time,¡± my mother would lament when she was truly sorrowful. ¡°A small window of time where you became a truth. A wonderful, wonderful possibility.¡±


    Why could none grieve for my mother as I did? Why did none hold her in their hearts any longer?


    ¡°I suspected I would find you here,¡± a calm voice said from the side, breaking me from my grief.


    I turned, seeing Mordain as he strolled to the stream, his hands clasped leisurely behind his back. The runes that glowed underneath his eyes flared.


    ¡°Are you here to mock me too, uncle?¡± I asked, puffing out my chest as I faced him. ¡°I was bested in a battle of words. Must you press your victory further?¡± I accused.


    My uncle did not respond. Instead, he walked up beside me, his long, flowing locks of fiery orange shifting slightly in a breeze I could not sense.


    ¡°You have your mother¡¯s fire,¡± my uncle said. ¡°It burns hot and bright, but too easily can it become blinding.¡± Mordain looked at me solemnly. ¡°Soleil meant well, but he can be overbearing. Moderation is not in his veins.¡±


    ¡°I am not blind,¡± I said, though my voice was not loud. ¡°I am the only one who sees.¡±


    ¡°So you say,¡± Mordain said lightly. ¡°But light changes everything we perceive. What you believe to be true is not nearly as clear as you may think.¡±


    He treats you like a child, I thought, feeling my anger rise again. Speaks in riddles meant to confuse and confound.


    Then my anger fell once more. Because you are one, Chul Asclepius, a dark voice whispered. You have not undergone your First Sculpting. And without the assistance of your mother, you never shall. Forever shall you be viewed as a child of the Asclepius.


    ¡°Will nothing be done?¡± I asked, following the stream with my eyes. ¡°Will no vengeance be wrought?¡±


    Mordain was quiet for a long, long time. ¡°I have not told you of how my clairvoyance functions, have I?¡±


    I blinked, turning to look at my uncle with surprise. Mordain was one of the minuscule few phoenixes to truly absorb the lessons taught by the remaining djinn before they perished due to their lesser lifespan. Rarely did he speak of his gifts, the last time I could remember being the young Ladies Darcassan. And that was many, many years ago.


    ¡°You have not. Do you not peer into the future?¡±


    Mordain chuckled, his fiery eyes dancing. ¡°Perhaps you could claim my abilities are thus. But in truth, I can grasp a sense of possibility. Should I put my mind toward the chances of an event, I can divine the likelihood of its occurrence. Using this, I can work backward, noting what may increase the chances of said event. For my unique understanding of aether, it is a balance of probability rather than true future sight.¡±


    He looked up, staring at the autumn leaves that sprouted from a myriad of boughs of silver in the cave ceiling far above. ¡°But around the time your mother¡¯s fate became uncertain, every single thread changed.¡±


    I tilted my head. My uncle seemed to put great weight on these words, but I was too slow to understand. ¡°I do not comprehend the significance of changing paths,¡± I said, feeling as though my wit were as slow as an engorged tunnel worm.


    Mordain turned to me, and for the first time in the long, long years I had known him, I saw a true spark of passion in the depths of his eyes. ¡°Chul, whatever happened around your mother defied Fate. I know not what action she took, nor if the action was done unto her. My sight is fogged and uncertain now. There was a time when I knew the likelihood of the Hearth¡¯s discovery. A time when the outcome of the Dicathian war with Alacrya was all but certain. A time when I knew my own Fate. But no longer.¡±


    ¡°My mother,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Does this mean that she still lives? Truly?¡±


    My uncle exhaled lightly through his nose. ¡°I do not know in truth. But know that when I can make sense of the paths once more, something will be done.¡±


    My shoulders slumped as I looked weakly down at the water. ¡°How long will it take to understand these paths?¡± I asked, my blustering voice but a weak whimper. I truly sounded like a child.


    Mordain rested a comforting hand on my shoulder. ¡°I do not know. But you have my word that you shall be the first to know when I find certainty again.¡±


    He left me not long after, the gurgling of the stream my only companion. I felt reinvigorated by my uncle¡¯s words, as if air had been blown over the weakening fire in my veins. But more than that, I felt another path open before me.


    The Dicathians warred with the Vritra-blooded monsters of Alacrya. If my uncle did not move, there was one place where I could make a change. Where Suncrusher could reap basilisk blood.


    Toren Daen


    I stared down at the corpse of the final boss of this Relictombs zone. A monstrous creature composed of grim shadow melted away in the aftermath of my fire, revealing a small, small body.


    The Relictombs zone I¡¯d carved my way through emulated massive caverns bordered with pillars of rising granite. At every turn, monsters made of shadow tried to pull me into the earth, the ground itself swallowing me whole. Like a demented horror game, I was forced to hone in on every sense but sight, listening for the scrape of beasts. Furthermore, they had some way of partially masking their heartfire that I didn¡¯t fully understand.


    But in the end, I¡¯d pushed through every ambush. Slaughtered every creature from a horror movie. And not far away from me, an ascension portal loomed.


    I felt my limbs loosen as the adrenaline left my body. Even at my current level of strength, the Relictombs provided more than enough challenge to keep me on my toes. But today, I wasn¡¯t here for the challenge.


    ¡°We¡¯re safe here,¡± I said quietly. ¡°This dimension is cut off from everything else.¡±


    Nothing. The room stayed its dark, dark self, the only light a splash of purple from the portal behind me.


    I closed my eyes. I allowed myself to remember the events in the Central Cathedral. Of Agrona¡¯s appearance. Of what he¡¯d done to Greahd, trying to send a brutal message to me. Of the wrenching horror of having my mind invaded.


    ¡°He can¡¯t reach us here,¡± I whispered. ¡°You¡¯re safe. We¡¯re safe.¡±


    The room stayed silent.


    I exhaled through my nose, looking down at the floor. ¡°I felt it,¡± I said, allowing myself to truly speak of this for the first time. ¡°I felt his horrible, wrenching touch on my mind. I felt the scraping sensation it left behind. For barely an instant, I felt what it was like to be violated in the worst way imaginable.¡±


    I held Inversion in my hands, the white horn emitting faint light. I¡¯d wrapped light leather around the base, turning it into a true grip for the dagger-like horn. The pulses of orange-purple along its length thrummed comfortingly. But that was not the sound I wished to hear.


    My breath shuddered as I relived the memory. The mind should never, ever be touched in such a way. I understood her fears now. Understood her reservations. Understood her revulsion.


    ¡°So I can¡¯t imagine the hell you must have gone through for so, so long,¡± I said aloud, my voice choking. ¡°For every day to consist of defilement after wrenching defilement. And the only thing you could expect the next day was further invasion of everything that made you you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Aurora,¡± I said weakly, looking down. ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry.¡±


    Slowly, almost painfully, I felt the reemergence of our bond. It slowly spread like water through drought-ridden earth, seeping into my mind in meek return.


    I looked up, meeting Lady Dawn¡¯s burning eyes.


    She was crying. Tears like liquid fire trailed down her cheeks as she looked at me, her normally strong shoulders hung in utter defeat. The Unseen World itself seemed to reject my bond¡¯s phantasmal shade.


    ¡°I left you to him,¡± she wept. ¡°I left my child to him,¡± she said, falling to her knees in the dark, dark zone. ¡°I let him touch you.¡±


    I moved forward, kneeling down in front of the phoenix. I felt the wrenching guilt over our mental tether, ripping and overflowing in exponential pain. I accepted it as I accepted her, wrapping my bond in a tight embrace as her emotions flowed like a river breaching a dam.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I whispered, threading my fingers through Aurora¡¯s feather-red hair. She sobbed weakly as she clung to my back, her fingers digging into it as if I were the last thing on earth. ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Lady Dawn cried, her shade shaking in my arms. ¡±No. I shouldn¡¯t have left you. I let him rape your mind, Toren. I ran from him! I let him have my son!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± I said, rubbing circles into her back as I tried to hold back my own tears. ¡°We¡¯re both whole. There¡¯s room for tomorrow.¡±


    I held my bond for a quiet eternity as she bled her guilt into me. In place of the void I¡¯d felt in the wake of Greahd¡¯s death, I absorbed every emotion my bond expelled. Guilt at leaving me when faced with Agrona Vritra. Horror for what I had witnessed him do. Anger and self-hatred for her own cowardice. The fear that everything we had worked for was doomed once and for all. Each emotion stretched wider than a sea.


    I matched it with my own care. How I understood her terror. Her guilt. And her self-hatred. I¡¯d felt all of those before; known them in my soul. Our mental tether was alive with more activity than it had ever experienced as Aurora lamented her woes and I returned it with as much compassion as I could.


    A long time later, when my bond had wrung herself dry, I gently pushed her away. Those fire-streaked tears had burned small tracks along her martial robes, and where they¡¯d hit me, my own clothes had smoldered.


    ¡°Agrona did not seem to notice our bond,¡± I said quietly. ¡°He seemed to think you had merely attempted to possess my body, leaving your Will behind in failure.¡±


    Aurora sniffed lightly as she pressed her forehead into my own, using the act as a measure of support. ¡°He is a creature of schemes, Toren,¡± she said weakly. ¡°Agrona does not lie, but he does not tell the truth either.¡±


    It was true that in the aftermath of that confrontation, I¡¯d felt distinctly that I¡¯d been set free. Like a dog that was allowed off its leash. I remembered Agrona¡¯s words.


    ¡°It would be interesting to see the effects he has on the participants of this war.¡±


    The question was, who were the participants that he referred to? Kezess Indrath? Arthur Leywin? Or perhaps Seris Vritra herself?


    ¡°He may even know all of the future your world divined,¡± Aurora said weakly, squeezing her eyes shut. ¡°All may be lost already. A pointless endeavor. No better future awaits us.¡±


    Yet even as my bond said the words, we both knew it was unlikely. There was a difference between playing with pawns on a board and allowing an enemy messenger to carry away top-secret knowledge on all your plans.


    No. If Agrona knew the depths of my knowledge, I¡¯d be lashed to the walls of Taegrin Caelum myself.


    But that brought to mind another truth. I remembered the words of Norgan¡¯s ghost, further reinforced by the last djinn in the world as he lay dying. The burning drive that pulsed in the heart of every East Fiachran as they pushed back against their oppressors. Naereni¡¯s refusal to cave under the crippling losses she continued to experience.


    And that long, final stare I held with Greahd, where her hope was foremost above all.


    Seris¡¯ words feathered across my mind. I need only change my perspective. Peel away the darkness others tried to layer me with, revealing the sun beneath. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I¡¯ve had knowledge of this world¡¯s future for a long, long time,¡± I said, pushing my bond slightly so she could look me in the eyes. ¡°But I haven¡¯t used it. I¡¯ve been too afraid of the changes I could make; of diverting away from a predestined path.¡±


    I clasped Aurora¡¯s hand between my own, feeling the warmth as it spread through me. ¡°But I helped change a city. I helped bring understanding between mage and nonmage. And it''s time I set my sights beyond just killing Nico Sever.¡±


    I inhaled, feeling a burgeoning star kindle in my breast. ¡°I¡¯m going to change this world¡¯s future.¡±


    [End of Book 3: Spellsong]

 Chapter 161: Pulse by Pulse [Start of Book 4]

    Circe Milview


    My mind arced high into the sky as my newly acquired emblem carried me like a leaf in the breeze. I felt pain immediately as I activated my spellform, but I couldn¡¯t let myself falter.


    ¡°Hold it, Circe,¡± a voice far below said. Near where my limp body rested, my stern teacher continued to bark instructions. ¡°The moment you allow your concentration to snap, it is over!¡±


    I gnashed my metaphorical teeth as I strained against the pain. But Professor Entrun was right. As head of the sentry department in Khaernian Academy, he had decades of experience training sentries. A few of his students had even achieved regalias.


    They had what it took, I thought, straining. I do, too!


    ¡°Switch to observing wind attribute mana,¡± the stern man barked. ¡°And hold for ten seconds!¡±


    I felt something in my core ache as I acceded his request, narrowing my sight. I¡¯d acquired my emblem barely a week ago through mastery and I¡¯d already been rung through with its use.


    Green, flowing particles of wind mana slowly popped into existence. They swirled about in an almost playful way, keeping more to the sky than the other attributes I¡¯d been pushed to sense.


    But too early, I felt as my mind receded back into my body.


    Damnit, I cursed, feeling the backlash of using my spell already. My vision swam as Professor Entrun suddenly had two heads, both speaking words that seemed a bit too distant.


    ¡°Too soon, Milview!¡± he snapped, his thin training rod cracking to the side. ¡°You must hold it. A sentry¡¯s greatest weapon is their mind. So you will hone it over and over until you weep blood and you shit the same!¡±


    Part of me that wasn¡¯t entirely disoriented wondered how use of an emblem could make me shit blood, but from the menacing way my professor levered his training rod, I decided not to ask.


    ¡°I¨C¡± I swallowed. ¡°I need a moment. Please.¡±


    ¡°You will get no rest until you complete your ten seconds!¡± Entrun insisted. His slicked-back gray hair reflected the early summer sun above us. ¡°Again!¡±


    I groaned, blinking until there was only one of my professor before I attempted to use True Sense again. I felt my mana reserves creak as I forced my mind from my body once more, rising into the air.


    ¡°Good,¡± Entrun said. ¡°Now you will try something else. Watch for fire mana! Ten seconds!¡±


    I felt my body groan as I shifted my focus. Fire mana sparked in my vision, the deep reds flaring in the sky and across Cardigan. Ten, nine, eight¡­


    This is easier to maintain, I thought with a hint of surprise. Why?


    For some reason, I felt that the fire mana was easier to understand. The flares and retreats of each particle made a sort of instinctive sense. I looked around, doing a sweep of the city. Six, five, four¡­ S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I looked down, inspecting the nearby walls around the Khaernian Training Pavilion. Three, two¡­


    And locked eyes with a hooded figure. Their burning orange pupils seared my metaphysical mind, forcing me to flinch back. The amount of fire mana around them was utterly absurd, to the point it pressed against the inside of my skull. I felt that aura seep into my nostrils, pressing up and up as it buckled my brain.


    I gasped as True Sense was forcibly ended, the overload in my senses causing near-immediate backlash. I leaned forward, vomiting onto the ground as my core heaved.


    ¡°You were close, Milview,¡± Entrun allowed. ¡°But you still failed.¡± He seemed to be waiting for me to speak.


    ¡°Saw¡­ saw someone. Outside the nearby walls,¡± I croaked, trying to blink away that searing gaze that seemed stamped over my vision. ¡°They had a lot of mana. Too much. Hurt to look at.¡±


    Entrun¡¯s normally stern face knitted in concern. ¡°Where, Milview?¡± he demanded.


    I pointed with a shaking arm toward the exact wall, the limb feeling like lead. Entrun barked orders to nearby guards I couldn¡¯t understand as I curled up into a ball, shaking slightly as the effect of my spellform overloaded my senses. I forced my eyes shut as my vision swam without end, dizziness grasping me from all sides.


    I didn¡¯t know how much later it was, but I felt a stiff hand shaking my shoulders. I blinked as a water glass was proffered.


    I greedily drank down the clear liquid, savoring it in the heat of the day. I heaved for breath once I¡¯d drained the glass.


    Entrun looked down at me. ¡°You are not feeding yourself well, Milview,¡± he asserted with narrowed eyes. ¡°Backlash would not strike as hard were you well-nourished.¡±


    I slumped. Can¡¯t afford food, I thought weakly. Seth¡¯s medicine took up what little money Blood Milview had. I would need to hide it better. ¡°I will eat better, Professor,¡± I lied.


    His brow furrowed at my words, but he did not push anymore. ¡°There was no man found along the walls, but our sentries will be on higher alert for the rest of the day. I trust my students to give me accurate information, and if a spy were to be among us¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°It is time for you to go home, Milview.¡±


    I forcefully pulled myself up, wavering on my feet. I shuddered, feeling sweat beading my brow. ¡°Yeah,¡± I admitted painfully. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m nearing backlash. Can¡¯t practice safely right now.¡±


    I felt a strange sort of disassociation as I packed my small bag to leave. I had a notebook, a few pens, and a waterskin that I¡¯d regularly refill. My possessions were meager, but they¡¯d served me well so far. I left the training pavilion in a bit of a daze, taking note of where I was.


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    Khaernian Academy wasn¡¯t nearly as prestigious as Central Academy, but their curriculum was solid. I had to walk a few miles every morning and night to reach the academy, but it was well worth it. The movement kept me fit and healthy despite my poor nutrittion.


    I trodded along the streets of Cardigan, slowly making my way back toward my small home. The upper-class houses I passed made me feel insecure in my cheaper clothes, the glaring wealth of my surroundings a stark contrast to my true destination.


    But as I walked, I felt a dark, suffocating aura slowly suffuse the air. The shadows all around suddenly felt larger, their tendrils stretching further in a cold draw. The summer sun somehow seemed less bright as goosebumps suffused my flesh.


    I nervously picked up my pace. Where before there was a regular stream of people walking this route, now the streets were devoid of life. The houses all around bore weeks of wear. I felt a measure of surprise that abandonment so quickly turned what were once lavish homes into drab effigies.


    But considering the circumstances, it wasn¡¯t surprising. Nobody came this way any longer.


    The paved street beneath my shoes became a dark, dark color as I continued my walk. I kept my eyes focused on the way in front of me, refusing to acknowledge the blackness that coated the roads. A faint scent of rotting copper touched my nose, somehow permanently suffusing the air.


    But as I passed the great plaza, I found my nervous steps slowing. I could not explain why I turned to face the massive Central Cathedral as it loomed in deep shadow, the inner halls empty and forgotten.


    I¡¯d always prayed to the Vritra. As early as I could remember, I did my duties and paid what tithe I could. If I honored the Sovereigns, surely Seth would be healed one day. They would grant him magic that would cleanse his blood of its weakness. If I continued to hone my magical powers, I would be rewarded.


    But the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion¡­ It made something dark churn in my heart. Scythe Seris Vritra, alongside the rising star of Spellsong, had answered High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s challenge. Even from miles away, I was able to feel the mana from the confrontation. I¡¯d shivered and wept as I clutched Seth¡¯s trembling body, hoping the storm would pass. That we would be allowed to survive.


    And just as quickly as it had come, the mana had ended, as if on the snap of a twig. And not long after, Lady Seris had left the cathedral in triumph with Spellsong not far behind.


    She¡¯d held Varadoth¡¯s head. I¡¯d seen a recording of her cool, triumphant walk from the temple. How the blood of her enemy coated the ground as if paving her way. And Spellsong mutely behind her, carrying what was presumed to be Varadoth¡¯s body. Except I¡¯d always thought he looked¡­ sad. Not triumphant like his master.


    In the weeks since that event, none had dared venture near the ruins of Central Cathedral. Whispers ran wild that some part of the dead High Vicar¡¯s power still haunted the grounds as a phantom, and considering how unnaturally cold I felt, I thought those words may be true.


    But I could no longer bring myself to enter that dark and forsaken cathedral. The large, blood iron doors were still open wide, almost in an inviting way, but everything beyond their line was blanketed in suffocating, deathly shadow.


    If there is no Doctrination to pray to, a part of me thought, What can I do for Seth?


    I clenched a pendant around my chest, the last gift from my late mother. She¡¯d succumbed to the same blood sickness that Seth had not long after his birth. It had been just us, but I¡¯d promised my baby brother I¡¯d make a way to heal him.


    There were rumors going around. The war with the Dicathian savages was going to enter its next phase soon. Mostly, Alacrya had just sent out small scouting missions. Probing attacks to test the Dicathian¡¯s resolve and defenses. But now, true war would begin. Retainers and Scythes would be sent across the ocean to liberate them from their asuran overlords in Epheotus.


    I can join that war, I thought. If I were to contribute somehow, wouldn¡¯t that earn my brother his health?


    I had no place to pray; to ask these questions. But one day¡­


    I heard the mute clack of footsteps on cobblestone as someone approached the temple from the side. I turned, my first instinct to run or call for some sort of help. Who approached a lone girl in these dark, dark streets?


    But then I¡­ felt it. I¡¯d always been more attuned to the emotions of others. I didn¡¯t know how I could sense these things, but it had guided me more than once through my youth. And as this hooded figure approached¨Cthe same hooded figure I¡¯d locked eyes with using True Sense¨CI felt something in my gut instinctually relax. For a moment, it seemed that the darkening sun above was not so shadowed.


    ¡°Were you an avid faithful?¡± the man asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen anyone stare at a temple with such a complicated expression.¡±


    I was surprised by the youth in the man¡¯s voice. He didn¡¯t turn to me, keeping his face hidden. I shuffled, feeling uncertain between the instincts of my mind clashing with those of my gut. Should I run? Or should I trust? ¡°The Vritra have given me everything in my life,¡± I said automatically. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t everyone go to the temple in thanks?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t answer me directly. ¡°Even now, Varadoth¡¯s black blood coats these stones,¡± he said with something indecipherable in his tone. ¡°Nobody cleaned it away. It bakes in the sun, becoming part of this place.¡±


    The man turned to me at last, revealing a deep, steel vicar¡¯s mask covering his face, except it semed to be fashioned into the likeness of a bird¡¯s beak. It covered his forehead, nose, and upper cheekbones, and there was a deep handprint that seemed to grip the entire structure. The deep orange eyes within held me fast.


    ¡°Are you Circe of Blood Milview?¡± the man asked casually.


    I didn¡¯t know how to respond. Though before, I may have been able to flee in the face of danger, there was something hot and searing in those eyes that stayed my hand. Not out of fear. Not really. Just¡­


    ¡°I am,¡± I said, my voice sounding small and unsure.


    ¡°I would like to propose a deal,¡± the man said. ¡°In return for a promise on your part, I can heal your brother Seth of his sickness.¡±


    Shock burst through my body as I took a step forward. I felt my jaw tremble. I couldn¡¯t explain how. Couldn¡¯t fathom what made those thoughts run true. But I knew, from that same sense for emotion I¡¯d always born, that this man could do what he said.


    Was he a vicar? Did he have some sort of connection high in the church?


    Was my faith being rewarded?


    How many said they could never heal my brother? I thought after a beat. How many claimed the sickness was beyond their skills? That they could never fix him?


    But then I caught onto the next part of his statement. For a promise on my part.


    Blood Milview was poor and low. While long in the past, we had been a talented line of sentries, I was the last we had produced. Now, it was only me and Seth. We had no money. No resources. No connections. What could I even give this man? There was one thing.


    I took a nervous step back as I instinctually covered myself with my hands. ¡°What do you want of me?¡± I asked in a small voice, feeling terrified once more. ¡°To¡­ to heal my brother? What do you want me to give?¡±


    The man looked at me, confusion in his eyes as I retreated. His eyes flicked to how I crossed my hands over my body, realization dawning.


    And then he laughed. The bark of laughter seemed to push away the darkness around us, a warmth spreading from his center. I blinked in confusion, feeling off balanced.


    ¡°No, Lady Milview. I¡¯m not going to do anything nefarious to you,¡± he said, his chuckle receding. ¡°In return for healing your brother, you¡¯re going to promise me one thing,¡± he said, holding up a finger. That jovial air simmered down. ¡°You will never enter the war between Dicathen and Alacrya.¡±

 Chapter 162: Alkali

    Circe Milview


    I walked in a daze, each footstep seeming to echo a hundred times in my mind. Questions upon questions seeped through my mind as water rises through cracks in a river. Who was the strange mage that was following behind me, a cool poise to their every step that seemed to push away the dark aura surrounding the Central Cathedral? Why did they offer to heal my brother?


    And why was the only stipulationkeeping out of the Dicathian war?


    I turned down a street, feeling a nervous energy coursing along my veins. While I had many questions, one of the many things the Doctrination enforced was to trust your unanswered thoughts to the Sovereigns. Things may not make sense at the moment, but there was a grand plan the leader of Alacrya was laying. I had a part to play in it, too. I just needed to let that part play out.


    He¡¯s wearing an ancient vicar¡¯s mask, I thought, chancing a glance back at the strange mage with orange eyes. Is he from the Doctrination? Rewarding faithful servants of the Vritra in the aftermath of the Central Cathedral¡¯s destruction?


    I¡¯d known that the Doctrination¡¯s official place within Alacrya was¡­ unstable after Scythe Seris executed Varadoth. But if they were rewarding those who had always believed¨C


    The man seemed to sense my gaze, his calm eyes shifting to meet mine. I looked away quickly, my throat constricting as we finally reached my home.


    Unlike the many upper-class homes near Khaernian Academy, my own home was a small house that had been passed down through my Blood for over a century. Though it had once been far more accommodating, now the small cottage¨Clawn included¨Clooked overgrown and shabby. Tall grass belied its lack of care, and a few roots spread over the path leading toward the door.


    I felt shame as the mage behind me observed the dilapidated state of my home.


    ¡°I¨CI don¡¯t ever get enough time to clean or make it look nice,¡± I said quickly, making excuses as I scurried for the door. ¡°I¡¯ll get around to making it nice again.¡±


    The strange hooded mage shrugged. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll have the time you need,¡± he said, seemingly nonchalant.


    The man followed me all the way up the stairs as I beelined for Seth¡¯s room. I felt a strange sort of anticipation as the floorboards creaked under our weight. Seth can be healed, I thought, energy running along my body. Though my core ached and I still felt the effects of using True Sense, I felt more alive than I ever had been.


    But then I paused at the top of the stairs, just outside of Seth¡¯s room. As I thought of my use of True Sense, the reality of it all started constricting me from all sides. This man had been watching Khaernian Academy. At the time, my muddled mind simply assumed he was a spy from Central Academy, or perhaps another power in Cardigan.


    But he seemed to be after me. He claimed his only stipulation was that I not enter the Dicathian war, but what if that was a lie? He could ask me to spy on my academy. Or he could hurt Seth. I couldn¡¯t explain why I trusted the man so easily earlier, but as I stared at Seth¡¯s old, oaken door, I recognized the folly of my actions.


    I felt my breathing accelerate nervously. The man waited patiently a few stairs down, clearly just fine with letting me sort through my internal turmoil.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I finally forced out, pushing myself up higher. ¡°I can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Circe?¡± Seth¡¯s voice said from his room, calling out weakly. He was barely ten years old, and it showed in his high-pitched tone. ¡°Are you home already?¡±


    From how the man tilted his head, I knew he heard my brother¡¯s words. I felt a pit open in my stomach.


    ¡°I promise I won¡¯t hurt you or your brother,¡± the masked man said quietly, taking the next few steps up. I instinctually moved backward as he ascended, a dark shadow slowly being covered in light. Once he was near the door, he paused. ¡°I had a brother, once,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I know what you feel.¡±


    And the surprising part was, I felt that he somehow did know what I felt. Understood it. That same gut feeling that always gave me the clues I needed to piece apart what people felt about me resonated with this. He truly did understand.


    I shakily turned the doorknob, opening the door to my brother¡¯s sickroom.


    Seth was sitting up in the sheets, his eyes wide and inquisitive as he spotted me. His dark, unruly hair fell around his ears in waves¨CI hadn¡¯t been able to find time enough to cut it for him, and had planned to tonight¨Cand those wonderful eyes of his held the strangest amount of concern.


    ¡°Hey, Seth,¡± I said lightly, moving into the room. ¡°How¡¯ve you been holding up?¡±


    Seth slumped slightly. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been really hot in here,¡± he said sadly. ¡°The heat¡¯s been really bad with summer coming along. I hate June. Spring is better. My limbs don¡¯t feel like wet twigs.¡±


    My mood soured slightly. It was sweltering in Seth¡¯s room, the air conditioning artifacts working to keep up. Unfortunately, we didn¡¯t have the best of services for our little home.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get better artifacts for that, soon,¡± I promised. Then hesitated. ¡°Well¡­¡±


    Seth looked at me innocently. ¡°What is it, Circe?¡±


    I decided to leave my reservations behind. I could do this. ¡°I met someone who said they could heal you.¡±


    I stepped inside, feeling my heart inside my chest. My reservations rose again, but I squashed them. The man in the dark metal mask stepped in, his eyes narrowing in a friendly way as he looked at Seth.


    Seth turned uncertain eyes to me, before focusing on the man. His fists clenched around his bedsheets. ¡°Why are you wearing a mask?¡± he asked, his childish voice laced with suspicion.


    ¡°Well,¡± the man said, sounding a bit sheepish, ¡°I snuck away from the person I was with earlier. And I¡¯ll be honest with you: they¡¯ve got a really good chance of finding me if I¡¯m not careful. So I have to wear a mask.¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Sorry about that.¡±


    I blinked, surprised by the¡­ honesty? It didn¡¯t seem like a lie, but who knew?


    ¡°Oh,¡± Seth said simply, as if this explained everything.


    ¡°Mind if I take a look at you?¡± the man asked, stepping forward a bit.


    ¡°Oh, uh¡­¡± Seth looked nervously down at his hands. ¡°Yeah. But the doctors all said I can¡¯t be cured. It won¡¯t do any good. You can try though, mister.¡±


    The man simply chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not like other doctors,¡± he said, moving to Seth¡¯s bedside. He laid a gloved hand over my brother¡¯s sternum, then closed his eyes.


    I nearly gasped as orange-purple light flickered between the man¡¯s fingertips, pulsing in a way that almost made it seem alive. The happy light flicked and surged wherever it moved, drawing my eyes and holding my absolute focus. It looked so alive!


    And I couldn¡¯t sense it. The man¡¯s control of mana must have been absolute as I stood, transfixed by the beauty. The strange healer lowered his fingers over my brother¡¯s body.


    The light seeped into his sickly, thin frame, seeming to be absorbed without issue. Seth gasped in surprise, his eyes widening in surprise but not pain. The man¡¯s posture became more relaxed as that light streamed from his fingers.


    ¡°I can heal your brother,¡± the man¡¯s cool baritone cut through my fascinated reverie. He sounded somewhat relieved, a tension I hadn¡¯t noticed before seeping from his voice. He pulled back his hands, looking at me meaningfully. ¡°His lifeforce is unusually weak. That should be expected, but it¡¯s not beyond my ability.¡±


    His¡­ lifeforce?


    The man stood, stretching his arms slightly. The casual, unbothered way in which he did so was in stark contrast to his attire. Shouldn¡¯t a man cloaked in shadows act¡­ I didn¡¯t know. Suspicious? Tense? Shady? ¡°I¡¯ll give you two a minute to talk. It¡¯ll be a big change that¡¯s coming. To you and your life after this.¡± He tapped a finger against his leg, his glove matching the dark tone of his pants.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He gave me a curt nod, then swept out of the room like a phantom.


    I blinked as the man finally left the room, seeming to finally come back to myself.


    ¡°Circe,¡± Seth said weakly. ¡°What¡­ what did you promise him? To do this? I know we don¡¯t have any money,¡± he said, looking at me with a trace of fear.


    I forcibly settled myself, moving closer and holding my brother¡¯s hand. Despite the sweltering heat of the room, his fingers were cold. ¡°I just can¡¯t participate in the war,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s all he promised.¡±


    Seth¡¯s fingers tightened around my own. ¡°Okay, Circe,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I mean¡­ he feels so warm. There¡¯s this¡­ fire in his chest. I can¡¯t explain it, but¨C¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I said, feeling tears well up along the edges of my eyes. I thought of all that Seth would be able to do after this. All we could experience together, no longer burdened by the horrible sickness in his blood.


    ¡°When this is over,¡± I said, smiling shakily, ¡°Want to go swimming in the Heart¡¯s Blood River? You won¡¯t be nearly as hot there,¡± I said. ¡°All that cool, cool water?¡±


    Seth¡¯s eyes, laced with a bit of worry, immediately brightened as I pulled his thoughts away from the strange mage who¡¯d come to help us. Then it darkened again, a sadness almost comically deep stretching across his face. ¡°But I don¡¯t know how to swim,¡± he said forlornly. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t go into a river if I can¡¯t swim.¡±


    ¡°I can teach you,¡± I asserted, feeling my smile stretch more truly. ¡°One step at a time, brother. One step at a time.¡±


    Seth opened his mouth, then a familiar shake went throughout his body. He coughed fitfully as I moved to his side, hacking and wheezing as his own body burdened him. I patted him on the back as the fit subsided into weaker sputters, but it only served to push my desires higher.


    My brother would be free.


    The man seemed to sense when we were ready, stepping back into the room as our little chat finished. He looked at me once, nodded, and then knelt by Seth¡¯s side.


    ¡°Seth, have you ever put your hand near a fire?¡± he asked gently, laying his gloved hands over Seth¡¯s chest once more.


    Seth hesitantly nodded. ¡°Once,¡± he acknowledged sheepishly. ¡°When I was really, really little. I was cold and couldn¡¯t get warm.¡±


    That strange light seeped from the masked mage¡¯s hands as he chuckled. ¡°Well, what did you learn to do instead? Getting burned isn¡¯t fun, but you can¡¯t be cold, either.¡±


    Seth shivered lightly. ¡°It¡¯s not good being cold. I guess¡­ I guess you keep your hand just far away enough?¡±


    The masked man nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he said, and I felt as if he were smiling underneath that mask. ¡°Too far away, and you¡¯ll be far too cold. Too close, and you¡¯ll burn up. So you need to find the exact¡­ right¡­ distance.¡±


    The room flashed with pressure. I gasped, stumbling back as sudden power emanated from the masked mage in front of me. I nearly tripped as the breath was stolen from my lungs, but my thoughts immediately went to Seth. My vision swam, not unlike how it had once I had witnessed this man with True Sense.


    I fell to my knees under the pressure, but I couldn¡¯t find a place in my heart to care for my own body. Seth was at the epicenter of this! I¡¯d led this man to Seth, and now he was going to¨C


    I looked up, feeling fear and panic and terror and guilt thrum through my veins.


    Except, instead of being flattened into his sheets as I expected, Seth seemed entirely fine. No, he seemed more than fine. His body glowed slightly as he looked at the man in front of him with wide, wide eyes. The masked man¡¯s left arm flared with red chain tattoos, and the pulsing thrum of power seemed to caress my brother¡¯s body. Instead of the dominating force that pushed me to my knees, I noticed as something changed in my brother.


    That orange-purple light flowed and pulsed in tune with a heartbeat I could almost hear. A thrum on the edges of my perception grew and grew and grew, nearing a crescendo.


    Seth¡¯s body twitched, and then the buildup of power winked out.


    The red chains superimposed along the man¡¯s arm disappeared, that overwhelming pressure relenting at once. I gasped, sweat dripping onto the floorboards beneath me.


    And I knew who the man was. In my search for potential healers for my brother¡¯s sickness, there were very few who might have stood a chance against his pain. And one of the newest sources¨Cthe one who was all over the news in the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion¨Cwas the White Flame of Fiachra. A man whose arm glowed with red chains. Who had faced Mardeth, the Vicar of Plague, and emerged victorious.


    Who had slain High Vicar Varadoth alongside Scythe Seris Vritra.


    But this truth fled from my mind as Seth sat up from his bed, flexing his hands and moving his arms in awe. Spellsong stepped back from the bed, huffing slightly, but Seth didn¡¯t seem to notice. He shot his arms out quickly, in a testing manner. When he didn¡¯t immediately collapse, he started to do more wild movements.


    From the outside, it might have looked like wild thrashing. But not five minutes ago, my brother would have collapsed from exhaustion from those simple movements. And then his eyes fell on me, a wide, wide smile stretching across his face.


    ¡°Circe¨C¡±


    I threw myself at him, wrapping my baby brother in my arms and weeping. The sobs tore themselves free from my throat as I held Seth in my grip.


    He seemed shocked for a moment. I hadn¡¯t ever been able to hug him this tight. He¡¯d never known how warm a person could feel.


    He hesitantly returned the hug. He wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that before, either. But as he realized the wonderful, wonderful truth, his arms clenched tighter around me. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Circe,¡± he said, sounding so, so pure. ¡°I¡¯m good now. You don¡¯t have to cry.¡±


    I only cried harder.


    Toren Daen


    I stepped back from the pair of brother and sister, feeling the thrum of my heartfire settle and the roaring fury of my Will retreat. Aurora mutely hummed in the back of my mind, observing my work.


    The source of the boy¡¯s sickness had surprised even me. It turned out, Seth had djinn blood, and a surprisingly potent strain in his genes as well. Except his basilisk blood was reacting poorly with the more docile part of his body.


    Where my Phoenix Will thrashed and tore at the basilisk blood in my veins, what Seth experienced was more akin to crashing waves smashing against a decrepit castle wall. The djinni side of his self sat still, gradually being washed away by his darker¨Cyet still weaker¨Cbasilisk blood.


    What I¡¯d done was twofold: I gave Seth¡¯s mute Vritra blood something else to target¨Cnamely, my Phoenix Will¨Csimultaneously revving his heartfire to heal the weakness he¡¯d experienced.


    I suspected that having been faced with this inner conflict since birth, Seth¡¯s body was never given a chance to ever truly be healthy. And one of the concrete truths of medicine is that a healthy body would resist toxins, damage, and other maladies nigh infinitely better than a weakened one.


    His basilisk blood would still chafe against his djinni heritage, but no longer would that show any effect. I may need to check up on him every now and then should he become deathly sick, as that may serve to reignite the sickness, but otherwise¡­


    I smiled beneath my mask, feeling a bundle of warmth in my heart as Seth¨Cconfused by his sister¡¯s tears¨Cdid his best to comfort her.


    I remembered what it was like, once. To have a brother.


    I turned around, slowly walking out of the door as I gave the two time to come to terms with their new lives. I walked down the creaky steps, then stood in the light of the sun as I entered the overgrown lawn.


    Aurora was quiet. Our bond wasn¡¯t empty and vacant as it had been a couple of weeks ago, but the phoenix shade felt an almost instinctual fear of making her presence known in any way this close to Taegrin Caelum.


    I understood that. My confrontation with Agrona forced me to change my perspective; to shift my view of what I could¨Cwhat I should do. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was why I was here, forbidding Circe Milview¡¯s involvement in the Dicathian war. It was she who allowed the Alacryan army to thread their way into the Elshire Forest, ripping apart the protective fog and felling their kingdom in one fell swoop.


    But if she never joined the war? Then Elshire would not fall so easily.


    And Aldir would never use the World Eater technique, erasing millions of elven lives in a pointless genocide.


    Far in the distance, I could see the towering peaks of the Central Cathedral. A grim, decrepit aura still stretched over everything in that horrible place. The stench of Varadoth¡¯s blood coated everything nearby, and even several miles away, I felt I could still smell it.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± a trembling voice said behind me.


    I turned, finding Circe Milview standing in the doorway of her home. The rims of her eyes were puffy from tears, her hands trembling slightly. ¡°I¨C I searched everywhere. Trying to find someone who could help my brother. I heard about you. About how you healed so many after the Plaguefire Incursion.¡±


    I stayed silent as Circe Milvew tried to find the right words. Her intent fluctuated between awe, gratefulness, and trepidation. She wore her emotions bare.


    ¡°Are my prayers being answered?¡± she finally asked, her voice small. She looked at me with something deeply imploring.


    I exhaled lightly. I raised a hand, touching the mask on my face. I slowly lowered it from my face, staring at the metal. I felt as Circe¡¯s intent jumped, no doubt recognizing my features.


    ¡°It is not your faith that healed your brother,¡± I eventually said, looking at the old Doctrination mask.


    ¡°Why?¡± Circe said, almost begging. ¡°Then why me? Just to stop me from entering the war?¡±


    I looked up from my mask. I felt my eyes harden as I stared into the young girl¡¯s soul. ¡°I¡¯m going to prevent as much loss of life as I possibly can,¡± I said sternly, my words radiating out with a palpable aura. The sound mana in the air trembled violently before I willed it back under control. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you the full truth, Milview,¡± I said quietly into the silence. ¡°Just¡­ enjoy your life. Treasure your brother. And keep your hands clean.¡±


    Circe was quiet for a long moment. ¡°Is there nothing I can do to repay you?¡± she asked weakly.


    ¡°There is nothing you need to do for me,¡± I said, turning around and preparing to leave. After all, without the blood on her hands¨C


    My footsteps halted erratically as my eyes widened, connections appearing as if a light had streamed into my mind. Seth had djinn blood, which meant Circe did, too. And she¡¯d only been able to complete her three-point array spells in The Beginning After the End by using her blood.


    Her lifeforce.


    I turned around robotically. ¡°Actually, there might be something you can do.¡±

 Chapter 163: Channels

    Beta-read by Infinity21


    Toren Daen


    Circe carved a spell in the ground, one point of three. Her finger shook slightly as she expertly traced her blood across the grassy surface, streaks of crimson red trailing the digit.


    She heaved for breath as she finally completed the tiny symbol, falling onto her back weakly as she groaned. She covered her face with her arm, blocking out the sun from on high as it streamed down.


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± she breathed out. ¡°Just gotta¡­ activate it, and they¡¯ll all connect.¡±


    I knelt, looking at the patch of red on the ground. The rune wasn¡¯t anything super special, but if I strained my ears¡­


    Yes, there it was. A bit of heartfire weakly pulsed within that blood, separate from the body. There was a bit of lifeforce in every drop of freshly spilled blood, but was there something different about this?


    In The Beginning After the End, Circe Milview could heighten the effects of her three-point array crest by using her blood to trace the anchor points instead of normal mana. But how?


    ¡°Wait a minute to activate it,¡± I said, walking from this one rune to one of the others across from it. I knelt, trying to hear out the differences in pitch and tone in the little bits of blood. There was a small bit of mana that coursed along the crimson splotches, but it simply held its intent and purpose close.


    ¡°It won¡¯t work in a few minutes, Lord Daen,¡± Circe said weakly, looking extremely tired as she lounged in the sun like a cat.


    ¡°I figured that,¡± I said, sensing the thrum of energy as a musician senses pitch. The mana didn¡¯t seem to react to the heartfire, but it was somehow kept in place by the aetheric binds of blood.


    The problem was that blood itself was a good conductor of mana even when the heartfire within had evaporated. Was the effect I witnessed a result of the blood insulating the mana, or of the lingering traces of lifeforce doing so?


    ¡°Activate your spell,¡± I said absently, immersed in the act of listening.


    Circe weakly clapped her hands together.


    And my ears erupted with noise. I felt my eyes widen as the initial tump-tump-tump became a steady hum. Yellow mana condensed from the atmosphere, bouncing from each rune. The mana continued in a flow as the particles bounced from the first point to the second and third, then finally back to the first.


    It creates a sort of feedback loop, I thought, standing up with a slight frown on my face. A vaguely triangular star of mana glowed within Circe Milview¡¯s front lawn as the particles danced in an even flow. The mana goes around and around, like¡­


    Feeling as if I were onto something, I engaged my Acquire Phase. Circe¡¯s weakly pulsing red heartfire became visible to me, alongside the burning orange-purple bonfire in my own chest.


    And the lines of the array glowed a deep red crimson, seeming to match the chain runes over my arm. Heartfire moved in tandem with the mana, darting around in a triangular circle that tainted the normally yellow lines of mana a slight red.


    My eyes widened as I watched the interplay. The aetheric sparks of lifeforce seemed to gravitate around the mana, agitating it in a way I couldn¡¯t understand. The mana seemed to glow a bit brighter every time the swirling specks of deep red brushed along the edges of the spell, pushing the light faster and stronger.


    I stepped around the light, getting a better view of each point of the array. I was able to feel as the lifeforce flowed in a circle that defied my understanding.


    I cursed internally. Not for the first time, I found myself wishing for the benefits of Realmheart. I could see the aetheric soultether, but not the mana itself. I only had half the picture I needed to fully understand what was happening here. If I could see the exact interplay between the two energies, I had a feeling I¡¯d figure this out far faster.


    I flexed my fingers. There was one thing I could do.


    ¡°Circe?¡± I intoned. ¡°What does it normally take to break this array?¡±


    The young woman lolled her head to the side, looking at me without comprehending. ¡°Just scratch out one of the array points,¡± she said simply. ¡°It breaks the loop. The entire thing falls apart after that.¡±


    I hummed, then dipped a finger into the stream of yellow and red. The mana itself seemed to dip and part as the digit pierced the flow. I watched as the many particles of red parted around my hand. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Like a stream of water when a stick is thrust into the center, I thought. I thought of how I was able to blur through water even better than the air like some sort of demented fish. Though every time I¡¯d fought in the water, I¡¯d come back covered in blood.


    My body froze as another piece of information clicked into place. ¡°Not a stream of water,¡± I blurted, feeling as though I¡¯d gotten another bit of the puzzle. ¡°A stream of blood. Like a vein!¡±


    ¡°Wha?¡± Circe asked drunkenly, still not quite there.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I said dismissively, watching the flow. ¡°I just figured something out.¡±


    ¡°Toren,¡± my bond said quietly. ¡°Your time is almost up.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, then withdrew an item from my dimension ring. I looked at the pocket watch, then quietly cursed.


    ¡°Thank you, Lady Milview,¡± I said, huffing in irritation as I stowed the timepiece back into the dimension ring Sevren Denoir had repaired. If I only had a little more time.


    And thank you, Aurora, I thought. I wouldn¡¯t want to be late for this.


    ¡°It is nothing, my son,¡± Lady Dawn thought back a moment later.


    Circe blinked, seeming to come to her senses. She pushed herself to her feet, wobbling slightly. ¡°Surely this isn¡¯t it!¡± she said, seeming to be wracked with a desperate urge. ¡°You said you wanted to see my three-point array spell. But that¡¯s still not worth what you did for me,¡± she said weakly. ¡°For Seth!¡±


    I exhaled, letting my Acquire Phase drift back into my core. I didn¡¯t have all I needed, but the clues I¡¯d gotten to understand this phenomenon were substantial. With my Dicathian spellcasting abilities and Aurora¡¯s help, I could piece this puzzle together.


    I shook my head. ¡°I never once charged those in Fiachra for my healing,¡± I said, thinking of the still-ongoing recovery efforts. After two weeks, the damage to the city had recovered notably. Mages made the work far, far easier as they cleared canals, hauled supplies, and erected gravestones. But the damage to the people themselves? The thousands that had perished?


    Bodies were still being fished from the canals. And my medicine was still needed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never asked for any true repayment for the work I¡¯ve done,¡± I said honestly. Then I knitted my brow. ¡°Though you should be careful using your blood, Lady Milview,¡± I added seriously. ¡°Push too far and you¡¯ll affect your lifeforce.¡±


    The young woman did not have the dynamically regenerating reserves of lifeforce that I relied so much on. Once her excess energy was exhausted, she¡¯d inevitably touch that lower base of lifespan.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Circe¡¯s throat clenched. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said weakly. ¡°I¡¯ll stay out of the war. Like you asked.¡±


    I nodded seriously, turning toward the far-distant teleportation gates. The looming spires of the Central Cathedral seemed to pierce my eyes, even from the edges of my perception.


    I jumped up, using my telekinetic pulls to rocket into the sky. The wind blurred around me as I engaged my speed.


    I¡¯d made myself another Oath that night in the Relictombs. When I¡¯d found a coven away from Agrona¡¯s touch and held my trembling bond, I¡¯d made a decision.


    I was going to use my knowledge of the future to better this world.


    But what did it mean to better the world? Part of me still didn¡¯t know. But there were a few easy steps I could take.


    Hopefully, Agrona¡¯s push into Elshire Forest would fail without Circe Milview¡¯s intervention. And while the thought of Alacryan forces winning the war in Dicathen seemed inevitable to me, what wasn¡¯t difficult to realize was the loss of millions of elves to the World Eater technique¨Ca true genocide on a scale I could hardly fathom¨Cwas something I was morally obligated to try and stop.


    What I did next with my future knowledge? That was far, far more uncertain: but I had ideas.


    Cardigan blurred underneath me as I darted along the streets in the air. I tapped down on the wall of a noble¡¯s tall warehouse, then used another burst of force to continue on.


    Below me, people pointed and muttered or clutched their hats as the slight trail of wind I kicked up in my wake. I felt more than a few of their intents. Surprise, irritation, and then some fear.


    I didn¡¯t stop.


    I did not like Cardigan City. In fact, I hated it in a way that felt hard to explain. Though I¡¯d long left behind the blackened cobblestones tainted with Varadoth¡¯s final act, it seemed to me this entire place was coated in a darkness I couldn¡¯t tear away. And after the Plaguefire Incursion, I was afforded some political liberties due to my connections with Scythe Seris. A few ruffled hats would not hurt anyone.


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    I spotted my target a minute later. Central Academy was a sprawling campus that housed thousands of students and a hundred different buildings. It was one of the premier centers of learning in all of Alacrya, akin to Harvard or another Ivy League school from my previous life. Their graduates were the best of the best.


    And at Seris¡¯ careful political maneuvering¨Cas Renea Shorn, of course, and no doubt due to the reputation I¡¯d garnered after breaking Mardeth¨CI¡¯d been allowed to perform a concert there for all the young highbloods to listen.


    The theater complex of Central Academy was the largest I¡¯d yet entered. A tall building with many jutting pillars of dark stone thrust into the sky, an air of grandeur and grace exuded by the architecture. It was central in the small plaza I approached, no other buildings bordering it.


    A small crowd was gathered outside. I saw the blue-black vests worn by faculty, alongside a few student uniforms. When the mages present sensed my approach, they all turned to look upward, surprise on their features.


    I skidded to a halt not far from them, removing my cloak in one clean flourish and stashing it in my dimension ring.


    ¡°Hello,¡± I said jovially, quickly slowing my skid to a leisurely walk as I strode toward the entrance. ¡°I pray I¡¯m not too late for the main event?¡±


    The Central Academy faculty gawked for a minute, clearly not accustomed to a flying entrance, before one man felt the need to shut his jaw. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± he said, his surprise quickly overcome by irritation. ¡°That was a highly unprofessional act. You should have been here five minutes ago. It is almost time for you to start!¡±


    I heard a few snickers from the crowd of students, but a sharp glare from the professor quieted them. ¡°You¡¯ll be escorted to where you¡¯re needed, Lord Daen,¡± he said, looking at me imperiously. ¡°My students will have the honor of doing so.¡±


    I raised a brow as a few students separated from the crowd, led by a single young man who looked to be about my physical age. He had darker skin than most, and his eyes were a bright red that was almost pink. He smiled with white teeth as he beckoned me over.


    ¡°Lusul of Named Blood Hercross, at your service,¡± the young man said, holding out his hand.


    ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen,¡± I said, mirroring his words as I shook his hand. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re my escort?¡±


    ¡°Alongside a few of my classmates,¡± Lusul said, turning and walking toward the doors. ¡°It¡¯s my job to drop you off at the waiting rooms.¡±


    From how the young man walked and how the other students remained quiet as we walked into the theater, I got the feeling he was the ringleader of their little group.


    ¡°Named Blood Hercross,¡± I said as I was led down a wide, stretching staircase. The interior of the theater was as lavish as the outside. ¡°I feel like I¡¯ve heard that Blood before.¡±


    Lusul waved his hand dismissively. ¡°My blood is one of the larger donors to Central Academy,¡± the man said, casually explaining why a whole bunch of Bloods were tailing him like pups. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, it gives me a bit of privilege in this place.¡±


    I blinked, somewhat surprised by the young man¡¯s casual admittance to that privilege. ¡°Clearly not privileged enough to avoid escort duty,¡± I joked lightly, scanning the halls. The ceilings were painted in beautiful mosaics of deep, royal blue and inky black. A dozen different scenes were portrayed from what I suspected were classical Alacryan plays.


    ¡°Well, considering the anomaly you are, most would consider it a privilege,¡± Lusul said. ¡°Nobody knew your name a month ago, and then you suddenly killed Mardeth. A Named Blood ascender without a hint of glory to his name suddenly disrupts every power structure we know. And then after that, that incident with the Scythe of Sehz-Clar herself? I count myself lucky to show you to the stage.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°While I appreciate the sentiment, I¡¯ll have you know I can literally sense empty flattery,¡± I said, feeling the man¡¯s intent on the air. There was a measure of simultaneous tension and calm to his true emotions that showed me his current chipper attitude wasn¡¯t much more than a facade. ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d try another angle.¡±


    I¡¯d grown used to political ploys by now. Nearly every person who approached me on the street wanted information or some sort of connection to me nowadays. It had led me to wear my mask and cloak more often whenever I ventured past the familiar walls of Fiachra.


    The mood over the whole little group shifted to something approaching anxiety. Not fear, no. Just¡­


    What? I thought, feeling a measure of surprise. Was that admiration?


    Lusul coughed into his hand. ¡°Can you actually sense empty flattery?¡± he asked a bit weakly.


    I simply raised a skeptical brow. ¡°What do you think?¡± I said, a bit of a smirk on my face.


    The man¡¯s eyes darted to his nearby companions. ¡°Well,¡± he said slowly, ¡°There is something we¡¯ve been wanting to know.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to ask?¡± I prodded, feeling a bit of genuine curiosity.


    ¡°Well, what model of violin do you use?¡± Lusul asked, looking at me with an anxious jitter in his gaze. ¡±From the recordings we were able to see, it looked like a Rosaere Clarwood from Gorten and Sons, but we couldn¡¯t figure out anything more. There¡¯s too much custom on it!¡±


    I nearly missed a step. The earnesty I sensed in the young man¡¯s intent nearly made me stumble with surprise, a similar emotion radiating from the quiet students nearby.


    ¡°What class are you, exactly?¡± I finally asked when I¡¯d gathered my thoughts.


    Lusul flushed a bit. ¡°We¡¯re the string orchestra for Central Academy,¡± he admitted. ¡°The man who told us to escort you is our conductor. And he also said not to ask questions about your music.¡±


    I barked a short laugh, feeling a warmth spread through me. I still couldn¡¯t deny this may be a political ploy, but I got the sense that Lusul and his bandmates weren¡¯t directly involved. ¡°You were close with your guess,¡± I said, flourishing my hand and withdrawing my violin. The light that shone in the students¡¯ eyes was reflected perfectly in the smooth shine of the clarwood. ¡°It¡¯s a 1645 Rosaere Clarwood, but back in the day, my Blood was more powerful. My late steward told me that the head of my house knew old Gorten. He got this commissioned directly from the man himself.¡±


    The company Gorten and Sons were the premiere crafters of string instruments in Alacrya with few rivals. The late Gorten himself had possessed a rune that helped him tune instruments to near mathematical perfection, while his sons had magical talents that allowed them to craft beautiful woodwork and etch with precision. Though the man himself had passed, his sons continued his craft, albeit with slightly lesser-quality instruments. There was a reason Gorten and Sons actually had rivals now.


    The students¡¯ intent erupted with interest and awe as they crowded around, pushing to get a decent look at the instrument as I held it. Lusul looked like he might just drool. I felt a swell of pride as they fawned over my violin.


    And I also felt Aurora¡¯s amused sigh as she watched.


    ¡°I recognize the clarwood base,¡± a young girl said, her brown doe eyes tracing the contours and fittings, ¡°But what kind of material is used for the strings? Not metal or gut fibers, clearly. It looks like swiftsure horse hair, but I can tell the quality is higher.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re hairs taken from a manefire razor within the Relictombs,¡± I said, referencing the fearsome feline aether beast. ¡°Old Gorten was able to use their unique ability to lengthen and become strong as steel to create strings that would never wear.¡±


    The students looked upon my instrument as if it were some priceless artifact of the Vritra, a reverence in their leaned postures and wide eyes that made me smile.


    My music was a deep, fundamental part of myself. Very rarely did I find anyone who emulated that part of me. Who understood my love for the craft.


    So as we continued to walk, I fell into a lively discussion with the Central Academy string orchestra members. While I admittedly didn¡¯t know as much of their craft¨CI was raised without much contact with Alacrya¡¯s musical society¨CI managed to maintain a healthy conversation by referencing my unique intent-based music. It gave us each a chance to learn.


    ¡°If you want to see more on the harmonics of magic and instruments, Bartaelus¡¯ papers would be a good resource,¡± the doe-eyed girl said excitedly. I¡¯d learned a few minutes ago her name was Adestine. ¡°It¡¯s been tried before, weaving magic into art and music. But never with as much success as what you¡¯ve done,¡± she added. ¡°Bartaelus theorized there were runes that would allow someone to achieve perfect pitch in every note they played.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Well, there¡¯s more ways than that to use magic in art,¡± I said, feeling surprised that what this Bartaelus suggested was so¡­ simple.


    The other students looked at me with hungry eyes. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Lusul asked, his dark eyes demanding.


    I shrugged my shoulders, pulling a random idea from the depths of my brain. ¡°Well, there¡¯s many people with spellforms that create illusions. Imagine a theater or play where you could perfectly display the characters people were acting,¡± I said gesturing vaguely.


    There were a few confused looks at that and more uncertainty. ¡°Well, those are all combat runes,¡± an older girl named Varsa said. ¡°Why would someone use them for theater?¡±


    I stopped in my tracks, feeling a bit of mute understanding course through my veins. Of course I was the first person to try and come up with an idea like that. It wasn¡¯t so much that I was a creative genius with endless unique ideas, but the warlike nature of Alacrya¡¯s magic culture stymied the use of magic for anything but. I could think of a dozen different ways to use magic in art: create practical effects. Make illusory backgrounds for plays. Allow everyone to see the play or feel the emotion intended to be conveyed. Wind magic could simulate a rolling breeze, or even act as a part of music itself.


    But these youths were told from the day they were born that illusions were for tricking an enemy. Modulating one¡¯s voice with a sound spell should be used to talk to troops on a battlefield instead of achieving a higher pitch with a song.


    Magic was a weapon to them.


    The students grew nervous at the rigid frown across my brow. ¡°Does it need to only be used for combat?¡± I prodded.


    Varsa blinked rapidly several times, as if someone had flashed a light in her face and she was struggling to adjust. ¡°Well, it¡¯s what¡¯s always been done,¡± she said lamely. ¡°Magic is for fighting.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not just for fighting,¡± I countered. ¡°The imbuers and instillers create artifacts that enhance your way of life all the time. Why not add art into the mix?¡±


    While many of the students showed uncertain looks, the young Adestine was the first to catch on. ¡°Imagine,¡± she whispered. ¡°We could add illusions to our plays! Fireflies and glintfeather projections as we play. Why didn¡¯t we think of this before?¡±


    As the walk resumed, the subject of conversation shifted as each student tossed random ideas into the center. Spreading sound across a massive crowd without the use of artifacts. Conjuring wind during a performance to evoke a spring breeze. Using the illusory abilities of some spellforms to change the perceived location.


    And so I felt a measure of surprise when Lusul changed the subject as we neared the back rooms.


    ¡°Say, Toren,¡± he said, using my first name, ¡°Are you going to be joining the war in the next few months?¡±


    I took a moment to respond. ¡°I will,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I¡¯ll be a part of Scythe Seris¡¯ contingent.¡±


    Lusul chanced a glance at me. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good!¡± he said, smiling genuinely. ¡°My blood is insisting I go, too, as the second son of Named Blood Hercross. He thinks beating down the Dicathians will give me some spine.¡±


    I felt my mood sour at the mention of the war, but Lusul continued. ¡°It¡¯s a good idea,¡± he said. ¡°I mean, that¡¯s far easier than being an ascender or training in the professional leagues. Breaking a bunch of savages should serve that well. And it¡¯ll show them the glory of our Sovereigns, too!¡±


    I felt as if I¡¯d been dunked in cold water. The casual, unsympathetic cast of Dicathians as savages that needed to be brought to heel made a knot of anger and uncertainty roil in my gut.


    ¡°There are rumors that their magic is primitive and unrefined,¡± Varsa said, her eyes still alight. ¡°We could show them this new music. They¡¯d appreciate a bit of culture, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±


    That anger dipped into sickness as the thread of connection I¡¯d built with these young Blood shattered. Some part of me had forgotten that the common perception of Dicathians now was that of savages in need of conquering. Yet the casual discrimination felt like a punch to the gut. Even after I¡¯d begun creating a bridge between mages and nonmages, there was still something so fundamentally wrong.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to prepare for my show soon,¡± I said, and I couldn¡¯t fully restrain the distaste that coursed through my tone. ¡°I hope you all make progress with any sort of magic you choose to employ in your music,¡± I said, pushing past the nobles and ignoring their looks of surprise.


    I had a concert to perform.

 Chapter 164: Training for War

    Toren Daen


    Even after the normally wholesome experience of playing my music, I left Central Academy feeling deeply unsure.


    After the concert, I maneuvered through the political webs and envoys sent forward to form a connection or entice some sort of deal from me. Aurora remained mostly silent, only providing nudges and tips when it was absolutely necessary. My bond despised this city even more than I did.


    But above even that, she feared Agrona sensing me once more. So she stayed quiet, dreadfully aware that she could draw the High Sovereign¡¯s attention once more.


    Lusul and his friends were there to watch me go, smiling and nodding in an appreciative way. Varsa waved with a slight smile, and Adestine blushed deeply when I focused on her.


    But the sight of these happy youths, so ready to go to war and condemn the people of Dicathen, made a knot of acid seep in my throat.


    When Arthur masqueraded as a professor on this continent, he had found his students to be hesitant and angry about the war. Their lives were nothing in the endless meat grinder Agrona created, and after Aldir singlehandedly erased the surface of an entire country, they rightfully questioned what the point of it all was.


    These students were not the same. All their lives, they¡¯d been told they were greater than others because of their asuran lineage. That the other continent was a place of savages and lessers who hadn¡¯t been blessed with Agrona¡¯s grace and favor.


    I didn¡¯t blame Lusul, Adestine, and Varsa for their discrimination. They had never been told otherwise; never been given a chance to think or see the consequences of their actions. Hell, even my brother Norgan and I thought ourselves beyond the Dicathians. It was only when my soul merged with my Earthen reflection that my perspective had changed.


    I blamed Agrona. He¡¯d fostered a strange duality in the people of Alacrya: one of simultaneous groveling and pride. They were lesser than their gods, but greater than the other peoples of the world.


    My feet felt heavy as they plodded along the streets of Cardigan, my direction vaguely winding toward the teleportation gates at the center. I had a meeting in Aedelgard, after all.


    As I walked, the reactions of those who saw me were mixed. One man bowed stiffly as if I were a highblood of the greatest order. Another flared his mana in challenge, meeting my eyes. And another¨Cone who bore a necklace imbibed with the glyphs of the Doctrination¨Csneered at me with outright hate.


    Lusul might not have flattered me from the bottom of his heart, but the words he spoke upon our first meeting were true. I¡¯d disrupted Alacrya¡¯s balance of political power deeply, and the current position of the Doctrination as an institution was deeply uncertain. There were rumors of the High Sovereign¡¯s minions visiting churches and confiscating both wealth and property from the leading vicars. And considering Scythe Seris had not faced public repercussions from Agrona for her supposedly blatant actions against His Voice, the Alacryan people were left wondering if the leader of the Vritra clan approved of Varadoth¡¯s execution.


    I wondered, when it was all over, what the faces of these people would display when they saw me.


    ¡°Your face is sour as an entmoor¡¯s prime berry,¡± a cool, smooth voice said. ¡°I find myself wondering what has you so contemplative, Lord Daen.¡±


    I tilted my head to the side, noting the sudden appearance of a familiar woman walking beside me.


    Common perception stated that Scythe Seris did not make social visits. Common perception was wrong. The pearlescent woman simply never allowed those she visited to divine her true identity.


    Seris¨Cin her Renea Shorn disguise¨Cseemed to drink in the attention of any who laid their eyes on her. I, too, felt her almost gravitating allure. Though I felt no spell altering my mind, part of me still wondered.


    ¡°I¡¯m wondering what part I¡¯ll play in the future,¡± I said honestly, turning my attention back to the road in front of me. ¡°I have never fought in a war before. I question what my place will be on the other continent.¡±


    Seris moved a bit closer to me as she stepped around a puddle, our shoulders touching for the barest instant before she resumed her grace-filled stride. ¡°What part do you think you shall play, Lord Daen?¡± she asked.


    ¡°There is whatever you¡¯ll have me do, I know. But I also have some goals of my own,¡± I replied after a moment of consideration. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if can push myself to do them. I¡¯m not as strong as I would like to be.¡±


    Our conversation fell off as we continued toward and through the teleportation gates. Once the sea-kissed breeze of Aedelgard reached my nose, I felt a tension I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d been holding release from my shoulders.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to be gone from that city,¡± I breathed. Not far in the distance, the headquarters of Bloodstone Elixirs beckoned.


    Seris hesitated for a moment. ¡°As am I, Lord Daen,¡± she said seriously. ¡°As am I.¡±


    We walked for a few streets more, the cries of gulls and sounds of ship labor echoing in our ears. Aedelgard lived and breathed the sea, and I could see the beginning construction of many iron-clad steamships all along the streets.


    That made me sink deeper into my ruminations about the war. Agrona had an almost impossibly precise art of turning what should be critical failures into victories. He¡¯d taken the Dicatheous, allowing the men and women of Alacrya to reverse-engineer the steam engine and create what would become a massive fleet of ships.


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Seris said, noting my quiet contemplation, ¡°I like to watch the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea from the skies. I absorb the waters, the breeze, the mountainous cliffs along the edge, and I see the far-off horizon. I allow myself to create wild dreams of what may be on the other side, though I know the truth.¡±


    I looked to my side, feeling a measure of surprise as Seris looked out at the water far beyond. Sunlight glittered across its surface, a stark contrast to the dark steel hulls that crisscrossed the bay. It was near dusk, and the breeze coolly brushed Seris¡¯ dark locks of hair. The woman had a strangely wistful cast to her face.


    ¡°To me, Dicathen is much the same. I can create as many fanciful ideas for what I shall encounter. What actions I shall take and what decisions I will make. But all the same, I know what my duties are. There are times where I must allow myself to dream, and others where I must embody duty.¡±


    Seris laid a delicate yet solid hand on my shoulder for a moment as we reached the gates of Bloodstone Elixirs. ¡°I may not yet understand you, Toren Daen, but I am certain you have the inner strength you seem to believe yourself lacking in.¡±


    I exhaled, feeling a strange tightness in my chest as Seris turned, a bare gesture of her hand causing the gates to open.


    ¡°The Scythe is correct, Toren,¡± Aurora reaffirmed in my mind. ¡°You are strong. Of mind. Of body. And of spirit. You can complete your goals.¡±


    I hope so, I thought as Seris and I walked through the courtyard. In the wake of my battle with the vicars, the many flowers along the rims¨Call from different Dominions across Alacrya¨Chad been burned, shredded, frozen, and decayed with all manner of spells. Now, the place felt strangely empty as only grass remained.


    Inadvertently, I found myself thinking of Arthur. The great protagonist of this world, wrapped up in Fate and aether and all the machinations of the asura. Strange as it was, I allowed myself to remember the times in his story when he felt weak. Where he felt the burdens of everything on his shoulders; tempted to just kneel.


    But I also reminded myself of how he always stood back up. I thought I understood the reincarnated king just a bit more, then. And the memories of a novel from another world¨Cthat showed that one could push through such hardship¨Ckept my strides long and bold.


    Xander, with his fake mossy hair, greeted us at the door. I still hadn¡¯t learned his true name, but he seemed to be a trusted agent of Seris. The man led us through the bustling corridors of the headquarters, the twisting paths winding downward slowly. Finally, Seris and I entered a larger chamber. Xander backed away respectfully as we reached our destination, tracking back the way he had come.


    And at the center of the room was a dark, anvil-shaped artifact that pulsed with mana.


    ¡°This tempus warp will take us to my personal estate not far from the shore,¡± Seris said, striding forward leisurely. She laid a delicate hand across the surface of the artifact. ¡°To avoid suspicion of my true identity, Lord Daen, you shall use this avenue to reach my base of operations.¡±


    I knew tempus warps allowed long-range teleportation, but there seemed to be a flaw in Seris¡¯ reasoning. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to speak. ¡°If the goal is to keep Renea Shorn as a mask,¡± I said slowly, ¡°Then I think it would be a bit too obvious if I enter Bloodstone Elixirs and leave Scythe Seris¡¯ mountaintop estate. Rumors like that spread quickly.¡±


    Seris raised a dark brow. ¡°Astute, Lord Daen,¡± she said primly. ¡°That is why you shall take this tempus warp back when we are done, and you shall leave by way of Bloodstone Elixirs.¡±


    I thought about that for a second. I worked my jaw for a moment, immediately seeing another problem. I rolled the realization around in my head for a few seconds, trying to find the best way to say it. Hopefully without getting summarily executed.


    ¡°Is there an issue?¡± Seris pushed. ¡°You are free to speak your mind.¡±


    I felt a grim sort of amusement as I tried to recall any time in that aforementioned otherworld novel where Arthur had to deal with something exactly like this. Maybe it wasn¡¯t exactly the fix-all solution to my problems.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how long you intend for me to be in your estate,¡± I finally said, feeling a bit embarrassed at the conclusion I¡¯d reached, ¡°But if I am seen entering Bloodstone Elixirs with you in the early evening, am not seen by any of your staff for several hours, and then am spotted leaving alone, I¡¯m not sure those rumors will be any better.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyebrows rose high enough to scrape her hairline. ¡°Men will always talk, Lord Daen,¡± she said casually. ¡°There is no way to avoid such rumors. It is a part of the trade. One can only learn to master and direct such rumors rather than quell them,¡± she said, the subtlest curve to the edge of her lips. ¡°Though if you wish for different gossip to spread, I am in the possession of several brothels in the red light district of Aedelgard. You may enter and leave through those avenues if you so wish.¡±


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    I groaned, caressing the bridge of my nose between my index and thumb as I wrinkled my brow. ¡°Are all your tempus warps located in places like that?¡± I asked a bit lamely.


    Seris chuckled lightly, seeming amused by my exasperation. Her dark eyes flashed coyly. ¡°It is a wonderful cover, Lord Daen. Your mind reached the conclusion most do under the circumstances. It allows my agents to freely report to me without being suspected of doing so.¡±


    I huffed. ¡°Okay then,¡± I finally said, walking forward to stand near the covert Scythe. I looked down at the tempus warp, feeling a bit of trepidation and anticipation both. ¡°I¡¯ve never used a tempus warp before. How does it work, exactly?¡±


    Before I could think anything more, there was a strange flex in the ambient mana. I nearly jumped out of my boots as the visage of Renea Shorn melted beside me, the false image seeping away like wax.


    Instead of navy-streaked black hair, locks the color of pearlescent silver reflected the low light in the teleportation room. I momentarily forgot how to breathe as the Scythe closed her eyes, skin the color of purest marble standing stark against her dark fur-laced dress. Twin horns shimmered into existence around her forehead, each like the regal points of a tiara.


    ¡°Ah, ah, ah¨C¡± the woman tested, modulating her tone slightly as she went through a few scales. She continued to hit different notes for a few moments as she gradually shifted the sound of her own voice.


    The closest approximation I could think of for Renea Shorn¡¯s voice was Eastern European¨Csomething vaguely Slavic¨Csplashed through with traces of an almost posh British accent, and then some tonal bits that were entirely distinct to Alacrya.


    But as Seris adjusted her voice next to me, the cool notes caressing my ears like a spring breeze, I heard how it seemed to invert. The English became more prominent, while the Russian-esque parts diminished. Before long, Seris¡¯ voice shone through.


    ¡°There we are,¡± the woman said with a satisfied smile, seeming to find the pitch and tone she was looking for.


    ¡°Can you do that with any


    accent?¡± I blurted, my eyes wide.


    Seris turned to face me, I suddenly felt very, very aware of how close she was¨Cless than a foot away, even if I was staring down. If both of us wanted to be transported at once, that was a necessity, of course. But this felt more intentional. Especially as her eyes narrowed into amused slits.


    She is doing this on purpose, I thought with mild annoyance, trying to sense if there was some sort of foreign effect influencing my mind. She has to be.


    ¡°I told you once before, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said, her voice just as smooth as when she played the part of austere CEO, ¡°That Renea Shorn is only one of my masks.¡±


    I frowned as Seris looped her arm through mine, ensuring we were close enough for the teleportation to take us both. ¡°Then is that your real voice?¡± I asked slowly.


    Though I knew Seris¡¯ mana threaded through the teleportation artifact next to us, I still could not sense her mana signature. She¡¯d only disabled part of her cloaking artifact.


    ¡°It might be,¡± the Scythe said primly, then activated the tempus warp.


    I saw a blur of purple before my location changed. I blinked rapidly as the light suddenly became blinding, my eyes struggling to adjust.


    When my eyes finally focused, I scanned the massive chamber I¡¯d found myself in. Sconces with electric blue dots of mana lined an expansive room layered with dark, dark stone. There were runes carved all along the floor that pulsed with steady power, a silver-blue lining that conducted the mana.


    And standing in the center of the room atop an expansive raised platform, his posture so ramrod straight and still he could have been mistaken for a mannequin, was Cylrit.


    I immediately felt my burgeoning good mood drop. I could see the quiet message in Cylrit¡¯s eyes, the way they quietly called me every sort of name. Though I suspected Cylrit wouldn¡¯t even have the dignity to curse me out, instead using flowery and roundabout insults.


    Thankfully, I was more refined.


    Dick, I thought, not-glaring at him.


    ¡°We are going to war, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said, striding away from my side and releasing my arm. ¡°You are powerful and skilled, to be certain. But your technique is unrefined. The edge of your power, while sharp, can just as easily cut an ally as an enemy.¡±


    She turned with a swirl of her dress, her onyx eyes boring into my own and pulling me from my mental spar with Cylrit. ¡°So for this next month, we shall make a true soldier of you. You shall hone your edge along the whetstone of my teachings.¡± Her face dipped into something darker that made goosebumps rise along my skin. ¡°The High Sovereign commanded me to take you to war, and I do not suffer such risk without understanding. If you are to be under my command, I will need to understand what you can do and push that further.¡±


    Gone was the light banter of Renea Shorn. I recognized that mask had fallen away, a new one taking its place. That of the cold, stone Scythe. One who would lead a war at the behest of her god.


    ¡°You will spar with Cylrit first,¡± Seris continued. ¡°To gain a better measure of your abilities and what must be improved.¡±


    ¡°This woman is arrogant,¡± Aurora thought with a bit of blazing amusement. ¡°To think I was not thorough in my tutoring. She shall find nothing wanting in you, my bond. I will savor the awe on her sculpted face when this is done.¡± S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The talk of training and battle had drawn Aurora from her shell. She was an eminent warrior of the Asclepius, perhaps the greatest they had. She¡¯d been rigorous in her teachings and guidance in the arts of phoenix warfare. I felt as she smugly watched the interaction.


    I turned to Cylrit, whose iron gaze bore into me from the center of the training room. ¡°Are there any rules set in place for this match?¡± I asked, seeing something deeper in the Retainer¡¯s eyes. The earlier annoyance I saw there at my presence had simmered away alongside mine as Seris gave her orders.


    There were more important things than petty grudges.


    ¡°We are going to war, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit said with metal in his voice. ¡°Rules are a construct created by the victors to enforce their power.¡±


    Well, that answers that, I thought wryly as I stepped up onto the platform, approaching the Retainer. I reached into my dimension ring with a tendril of mana, withdrawing Inversion once I¡¯d found it.


    The white dagger-shaped horn settled into my waiting hand, the strange connection I bore with the pulsing weapon grounding me. I gripped the leather wrapped around its base as I faced off with Cylrit, his mana pulsing with suppressed killing intent.


    I was about to open my mouth and ask what would happen next when a thick, thick barrier of translucent blue mana slowly rose from the edges of the platform, rising forty feet in the air before creating a perfect box around us.


    A shielding mechanism, I realized.


    Cylrit was garbed in his usual dark armor, a long, white cape flowing behind him. I sensed as the air around us changed, the man shifting his foot backward into a deep stance. He moved his arms into a cross-arm guard.


    Aurora, I thought as I scrutinized the Retainer¡¯s stance, Could you please allow me to do this spar alone? I want to see how my reflexes and intuition match up to Cylrit¡¯s.


    ¡°I understand, Toren,¡± my bond said. ¡°The path of a warrior always involves testing oneself. I wish you luck.¡±


    I settled into my stance as I faced down the Retainer, holding Inversion like an ice pick near my heart and keeping my left arm extended.


    ¡°Begin,¡± Seris¡¯ cool voice echoed out from afar.


    Cylrit did not move, maintaining his boulder-solid stance, but the pressure radiating out from him doubled twice over. ¡°This is the Vechorian guard stance,¡± he said evenly. ¡°Its defense is as solid as the walls of Aensgar itself.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Yet I do not recognize your own stance, Spellsong,¡± he said.


    I¡¯d already divined the nature of Cylrit¡¯s posture. From all I knew from The Beginning After the End, I reasoned that Cylrit was likely a shield. Furthermore, the stance he was in kept his hands close to his body, as opposed to farther out as one would if they aimed to fight aggressively. His modus operandi was defense. I¡¯d have to create my openings.


    ¡°This is Hidden Talon,¡± I said surely, feeling my mind enter the surreal fugue state it did whenever I engaged in battle. My fighting style was oriented around deflection, evasion, and precise parries, following that through into devastating counters. Aurora, long ago, had taught me that my lead hand was designed to cover the actions of the other, which held Inversion. A wing masking a sliding claw.


    I¡¯d used this stance to kill Mardeth.


    I blurred forward with a mindfire stamp, the world seeming to shift in slow motion as I approached the Retainer. I coated my left fist in a layer of fire as I snapped it at the Vritra-blooded man, aiming for his annoyingly sculpted jaw.


    Predictably, Cylrit raised his hand to push my jab to the side, shifting his head so the gout of fire that erupted from my hands missed his hair. I felt the mana thrum through my veins as I grabbed the Retainer¡¯s wrist, using my forward momentum¨Calongside another subtle push with telekinesis¨Cto rocket forward once more.


    Were I facing a weaker opponent, the sudden jerk of his arm as an entire body lurched past would have toppled their stance, causing them to fall over¨Cor if they were extremely unlucky, get hauled along in my wake.


    But Cylrit was solid as a moon ox. His arm didn¡¯t even shift as I clenched it, and instead of hauling him, my body was whipped around by centrifugal force.


    Exactly as I¡¯d planned.


    I snapped out with Inversion as my body swung toward Cylrit¡¯s exposed back, the point of the horn aimed at a bare gap in the Vritra-blooded man¡¯s armor.


    But Cylrit wasn¡¯t as surprised by my acrobatics as I suspected. He simply shifted his hand, grasping my wrist in turn. Then he yanked me back, the jolt nearly tearing my shoulder from its socket.


    I barely saw the elbow coming from the edge of my vision, a flash of dark steel aiming sideways for my body.


    I managed to get my hand in front of my face, funneling more mana into it as the hard edge of Cylrit¡¯s armor impacted my palm.


    The force of the blow kicked up a wave of dust as I skidded back. The Retainer hadn¡¯t moved a single inch from where he stood, while I was left shaking out my hand. It felt like my palm had been hit by a train, the flesh aching slightly. It bruised lightly from where I¡¯d barely blocked.


    ¡°If that is all you can do, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit said with a slight sneer, ¡°I find it impossible that you emerged victorious against the Vicar of Plague.¡± He looked at me pointedly. ¡°You are holding back beyond what you should. By doing so in this moment, you disgrace yourself¨Cand by extension, your Scythe. Do not play games any longer.¡±


    I snapped a glance at Scythe Seris, who watched the back and forth with stoic calmness. While I didn¡¯t think the woman felt disgraced by my hesitance, she certainly looked annoyed.


    I sighed. ¡°As you wish,¡± I said, a hint of irritation lacing my tone. I looked deep into my core, calling on the deep well of insight that was my Phoenix Will. The red chains along my arm shone overtop my long, white sleeves, and I felt feather stem runes shining under my eyes. The deep black flame of Cylrit¡¯s heartfire revealed itself to my gaze.


    I twirled Inversion, creating a telekinetically shrouded vein of heartfire with the horn¡¯s focusing properties. To outside observers, a crystal lattice saber erupted from and along the edges of the white horn.


    I¡¯d discovered the secret to this during my fight with Mardeth. And if there was any good name for this technique, it was a shrouded saber.


    A beat later, plasma threaded through the blade, turning it a solid red that hummed with power. I shifted my stance once more as I levered the burning edge of my shrouded saber toward the Retainer, whose expression had shifted to become even more pinched.


    ¡°In case I did not make myself clear, let me repeat myself,¡± Cylrit said, unphased by the power I radiated. ¡°I said that you disgrace yourself and your Scythe by holding back.¡±


    I ground my teeth, understanding the Retainer¡¯s implication. ¡°The last time I engaged my full power,¡± I said, thinking of Soulplume, ¡°It was when the lives of thousands were endangered by plague. I do not use that strength lightly.¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a moment. ¡°Very well, Spellsong,¡± he said, thrusting his hand out to the side. ¡°Then you have already lost this bout. But I will not forsake my duty, as you have.¡±


    A looming black sword¨Clarger than Cylrit was tall¨Ccoalesced from black fog. It glinted ominously as the Retainer slowly hovered higher in the sky, casting a long dark shadow over me as his cape whipped.


    ¡°I have been tasked with divining your shortcomings,¡± he said coolly. ¡°So let us fight.¡±

 Chapter 165: Bladework

    Toren Daen


    I knew the secret to the Retainer¡¯s weapon, detailed at length in a book from another world. Spells sent toward Cylrit would gravitate toward the colossal blade, each absorbed and dispersed with ease. Any physical attack I used would gravitate toward it as well, pulled off course by the handsome man¡¯s weapon. The Retainer, however, could only cause spells of a single element to gravitate at once.


    So I decided to do a little test. In The Beginning After the End, Arthur managed to defeat Cylrit with a mix of teamwork from Sylvie alongside a quick swap of elements to confuse the man¡¯s absorption abilities.


    I wish I could see Sylvie obliterate him, I thought with grim amusement, the edge of my lip quirking up. Maybe another time.


    Cylrit¡¯s massive sword emanated a pressure all on its own as he leveraged it down at me. Through the enhanced senses of my will, I could feel the ridges of the Retainer¡¯s intent.


    But there was one thing Arthur failed to do during his fight.


    I waved a hand, summoning a dozen fireballs that hovered statically around me, each large enough to fit me inside. I felt their heat caress my cheek as my focus narrowed, the blood of the phoenix flowing through my veins.


    I waved my hand down, and all the fireballs around me began to arc inwards, curving to swallow the Retainer in their sweltering heat. His eyes tracked them without worry despite the substantial amount of mana imbued. He raised his sword, swiping it in a half-crescent arc. I felt and saw as my fireballs lurched off course, slowly being absorbed into the massive greatsword as the gravitational aura of his weapon demanded.


    I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as a frown crossed my features. Cylrit looked down at me, clearly annoyed at my testing. But I wasn¡¯t done yet.


    I raised my hand, pointing my index and pointer fingers at the Retainer in the shape of a handgun. Sound mana coalesced at the end of my fingertip, a slight influx of pure mana making the little projectile ripple with an oil-like sheen. I engaged my telekinetic emblem, feeling pressure build up along the tip of my finger.


    ¡°Bang,¡± I whispered, and the spell shot off with the speed of a bullet and an eruption of sound.


    To his credit, Cylrit swerved his sword in the path of my vibrating sound bullet, absorbing it into his weapon. But I hadn¡¯t stopped. Flame and sound bullets fired out intermittently in rapid succession as they surged toward the Retainer. Not powerful enough to hurt the hovering man, but enough to annoy him and draw blood were they to make contact with bare skin.


    I watched with a measure of awe as the Retainer switched which spells he could absorb with the speed of lightning, alternating between blocking and absorbing fire and sound at a speed that would have been a blitz to a normal human eye. Through it all, I gauged how quickly each switch took.


    He¡¯s too fast at changing it for me to capitalize on with ranged attacks, I thought with a note of irritation. I should¡¯ve expected that. One last test, though.


    At the end of my barrage of bullets, I conjured a single bead of plasma. Instead of aiming near center mass as I had before, I pointed my finger near Cylrit¡¯s foot, further away from his sword.


    I let loose the solid plasma bullet, the spell accelerating in a beam. The Retainer swung his sword, and I watched as the plasma¨Ca combination of both fire and sound¨Creluctantly curved toward his sword.


    ¡°Is this all you can do, Spellsong?¡± Cylrit sneered, pushing away the wafting smoke that surrounded him.


    I settled back into stance, hefting Inversion and the shrouded blade that emerged from it. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I said, feeling a wave of confidence.


    That was one thing Arthur never tried during his battle with the Retainer. Cylrit¡¯s massive sword had a lesser effect on plasma spells than it did on single-element attacks. It made sense, after all. If his weapon caused one element to gravitate toward it at a time, then a combination spell would have half the force exerted over it.


    I could exploit that.


    I launched myself upward, flourishing my plasma blade. It flashed in a crimson streak as I aimed for the Retainer¡¯s arm. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I felt as my attack was pulled off course into the Retainer¡¯s sword, red plasma blazing as it impacted black metal. I streaked up and past Cylrit, landing feet-first on the ceiling. Without waiting for another beat, I blurred back down, adjusting my course with a few subconscious telekinetic pulls. I swiped with my saber once more, and though the annoyingly handsome Retainer bound it with casual ease, the fist coated in oscillating vibrations that streaked for his jaw wasn¡¯t so easy to ignore.


    Both of my attacks were pulled toward his sword once more, the Retainer no doubt changing his sword to absorb sound magic. His eyes flashed as he expertly kept control of the battle.


    Until I flushed the sound mana from my shrouded saber, leaving it coated in fire instead of pure plasma. Suddenly free of the Retainer¡¯s pulling force, it slid past his defense for the barest moment, the searing edge leaving a scorch mark along his dark metal armor at the same time my fist impacted his sword.


    I fell to the ground again as Cylrit backed up slightly, giving the scorch mark on his black armor a glare.


    ¡°I think it is time I finally fought back, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit acknowledged grimly.


    I was about to open my mouth to respond, but Cylrit was suddenly in front of me, moving faster than my eyes could process. His fist rocketed toward my face in a mirror of what I¡¯d done not a minute before. I panicked, bringing Inversion in a defensive sweep to try and ward off his blow. Cylrit, seeming to sense this, thrust his sword out far to the side.


    My attempt at blocking was disrupted as my saber was forcibly drawn away, leaving me wide open.


    Cylrit¡¯s gauntleted fist cracked solidly against my jaw. My telekinetic shroud shattered as if it didn''t exist before the dark metal plates ground against my face. Stars raced across my vision as my body went flying from the impact. I bounced hard off the warding wall, a ripple of dispersing force vibrating out along the panels of mana as I slumped to the platform once more.


    ¡°You are quick to understand my weaknesses,¡± the Vritra-blooded mage said cooly, standing imperiously not far away. ¡°But not quick enough to see your shortcomings.¡±


    I groaned as I pushed myself to my feet, feeling my heartfire soothing over my cracked jaw. Did he need to hit me so damn hard? ¡°And what might those be?¡± I snarled, feeling fire race along my veins.


    ¡°You shall see,¡± Cylrit said unhelpfully, hovering slightly above the ground.


    He blurred forward once more, his massive sword swinging. I barely ducked the attack, feeling off-balance, but that opened me up to the pendulum-like kick of Cylrit¡¯s plated boot. I rolled to the side, pushing outward with a nimbus of fire and sound. The Retainer opted to absorb the fire, bracing against the vibrating waves. I spun, using a few telekinetic pulls to truly amp up a tornado of force, and then I slashed out with Inversion in a sideways cut.


    I could only see my own attack as a blur of red, but Cylrit was somehow faster. He moved his sword into a defensive position, the impact of my blade on his sending a heavy jolt up my arm as it pushed him back.


    I didn¡¯t let up. Using a few telekinetic pulls on the nearby ground, I launched myself at the Retainer as he skidded backward, conjuring solid feathers of sound, fire, and plasma all around me. I threw them like they were darts, using my telekinesis to maneuver them past his sword.


    The Retainer grunted in annoyance as my spells peppered his armor. He could only block one element at once, and my precise telekinetic control made him a poor matchup against me. I wasn¡¯t truly doing any sort of damage, but it felt damn good for a reason I couldn¡¯t explain.


    ¡°I have underestimated you, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit said, his intent radiating barely leashed anger. ¡°Allow me to show you proper respect.¡±


    Then he threw his sword behind him, settling back into Vechorian guard stance even as he continued to slide back.


    I only had a moment to process the action, a flash of confusion crossing my thoughts. My spells all surged after his weapon as it arced to the end of the training room, following it like a school of burning, vibrating fish.


    Feeling an opportunity arise, I used a powerful telekinetic pull near the Retainer¡¯s feet. He didn¡¯t have his weapon anymore. That meant he couldn¡¯t protect himself.


    Only as my telekinetic pull¡¯s white outline gravitated toward Cylrit¡¯s massive sword did I realize my mistake. Instead of a controlled acceleration, I rocketed toward the Retainer at a speed I couldn¡¯t halt. He¡¯d changed his sword¡¯s mana signature to attract my telekinetic spellform instead of fire or sound! That was why all my spells surged away with his sword, not just sound and fire!


    On instinct, I tried to use a telekinetic pull on the ground behind me, but that only served to speed me further toward the Retainer as that spell, too, moved toward his retreating blade.


    I only had a moment of grim horror to brace my body as I saw Cylrit calmly wind up a solid hook with perfect precision, his face still cast in a way that looked like a rod was shoved too far up his behind.


    Fuck, I thought as his plate gauntlet approached my face in what felt like slow motion. It sucks so much to regrow teeth.


    Then the black metal crunched against my nose in a wave of pain, and everything went dark.


    Seris Vritra


    I watched as my Retainer¡¯s gauntlet impacted Toren¡¯s face in a near-comical display. With my level of strength, I was able to see the resignation in the young man¡¯s eyes as he realized in real time what had led to his loss.


    Despite that, I still felt a small surge of worry as Toren¡¯s body went tumbling past the stationary Cylrit, flipping end over end as if he had been clotheslined at high speed. He tumbled limply a few times as he rolled along the platform, before eventually coming to a stop near the edge of the warding barrier. I laid a hand along the control panel of the training ground as my Retainer¡¯s large black sword returned to his hand. With a bare nudge, the shields dissipated.


    I hovered up past the device, moving closer to the stern man I¡¯d raised to be my closest aide. ¡°Thank you, Cylrit,¡± I said coolly. ¡°I believe I understand where to go next with Spellsong¡¯s training.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Scythe Seris,¡± my ever-loyal Retainer said, bowing deeply. When he unfolded, he had a strange twist to his sharp features I did not think I had seen before. ¡°Will Spellsong be able to continue? I was not lenient in my lesson.¡±


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    I raised a brow at Cylrit. We both knew he could have stood to withhold his power more in that last exchange. ¡°You had a proclivity to aim for his jaw. And not hold back, either.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s expression became carefully passive. ¡°His jaw is sharp enough to ward off my blows. And he, too, seemed to want to crater my face in. I only met the rules of engagement.¡±


    ¡°That is not a fair comparison, Cylrit,¡± I chided, feeling slightly amused. ¡°You are armored up to your head. Toren has no choice but to aim there.¡±


    ¡°Understood, Scythe Seris,¡± Cylrit replied, bowing his head¨Cbut not his pride. ¡°I will strike¡­ lower, next time.¡±


    I looked down at Toren Daen¡¯s body, which was splayed limply amidst a crater. I hovered over to him, my hands clasped in front of my stomach.


    Toren¡¯s nose was jutting at an odd angle, a visible imprint of Cylrit¡¯s gauntlet stamped across his face. He groaned slightly as he came back to consciousness, blinking tiredly as he stared up at me. Those eyes seemed to glow slightly, even in this underground training arena.


    He winced as he shifted, seeming to remember his wounds. Then he raised a hand to his nose and forcibly set it again, a stream of blood leaking onto his clothes.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± he muttered as orange-purple light streamed along his crown, healing over the stamp of Cylrit¡¯s victory. He glared at my Retainer, who flew at attention behind me. ¡°Did you have to hit me that hard?¡±


    Interesting, I thought, a quirk to my lips. It seemed Lord Daen¡¯s aetheric healing abilities needed to be consciously engaged, as opposed to the automatic nature of many mages¡¯ soulfire repair. Toren did not have a true healing factor as many Vritra-blooded mages did, but more an ability to consciously heal himself. I filed that knowledge away for future inspection.


    ¡°It was necessary to impress upon you the nature of your shortcomings,¡± Cylrit lied, his face a mask of stone.


    Toren¡¯s stare told my Retainer exactly what he thought of that statement as he spit out a tooth. Yet when he worked his jaw once more, he was missing none of his pearly whites.


    I did not know why these two disliked each other so, but I¡¯d have to find a way to remedy the situation. I couldn¡¯t afford to go into the war with the men beside me tearing at each other¡¯s throats.


    ¡°And what exactly did I do wrong?¡± Toren huffed, pulling himself to his feet.


    ¡°You did not do anything wrong,¡± I corrected. ¡°Merely made missteps in battle. But before I tell you how we shall proceed, I need to know something.¡±


    Toren was busy brushing his clothes free of dust as he absently replied. ¡°Yeah?¡± he said, trying to work a smudge of dirt from his loose pants.


    ¡°That form you utilize, where your eyes glow with runes and your tattoos burn against your skin,¡± I said, hovering a bit closer, ¡°What exactly is its nature?¡±


    Lord Daen¡¯s hands stalled as he brushed his shirt. His eyes flashed through half a dozen emotions in quick succession. Surprise, wariness, resignation, fear¡­ and then they were forcibly buried a moment later. But he could not hide it all. Not with how expressive he was.


    So many emotions this man feels, I thought. You feel so at ease wearing away my masks. Let us see if you are ready to relinquish some of your own.


    Toren was slow to relinquish his secrets, but I had quickly understood what routes I would need to take if I wished to peel apart this puzzle. He was a being of utmost reciprocity.


    He felt guilt for unmasking me. I would use that as I needed.


    I let myself settle onto the ground. ¡°It is a Beast Will, is it not?¡± I asked quietly, remembering the High Sovereign¡¯s words.


    Toren was the sort that only bent so much before they snapped back like a door slamming shut. If I wanted to know more, I needed to pace my questions.


    Toren crouched, grabbing the strange white horn he used as a magical focus from where he¡¯d dropped it on the ground. ¡°Many, many months ago,¡± he said, still low, ¡°I was dying in the forest outside of Fiachra.¡±


    I pulled up short, surprised by the solemn note in the young noble¡¯s tone. My inner questions of how I could approach this conversation to extract what I needed bled away in an instant of surprise¨Csomething that was irritatingly common with this young man. Dying?


    ¡°But as I bled into the grass, I was approached by a¡­ power,¡± Toren said, testing the words on his tongue. ¡°Something beyond anything I¡¯d ever seen before. It touched me; strengthened me and healed me,¡± he said, a hand brushing his sternum.


    My gaze lingered on the deep, fiery red lock of hair along Toren¡¯s head. It faded to a silvery purple, almost mirroring my own shade of hair. And the two burning coals he called eyes. ¡°A phoenix,¡± I said surely, remembering the grim day when Agrona himself had uttered the words.


    Toren nodded. ¡°She was.¡±


    Those were the only two words he offered, but they held a weight that seemed to draw me closer.


    He wasn¡¯t telling me the full truth. There was something more; something deeper to this puzzle than a failed spiritual possession attempt as Agrona posited. From the power the young man was able to display while using the Phoenix Will, I felt certain that he was¨Cin the terms of the Dicathians who pioneered the art¨Ca Legacy Tamer, rather than a Forged Tamer. The power he bore was likely passed down willingly.


    I thought of those red chains that bound his arm, and the value the young man put into oaths. More tantalizing pieces.


    ¡°I see,¡± I said, drifting forward and brushing out a bit of dirt from Toren¡¯s shirt where he had missed a spot. It was important to always portray oneself as clean. ¡°And when did you begin to master this power?¡±


    ¡°I used it for the first time not long before my preliminary ascent,¡± he said darkly, turning away from me. ¡°To settle a Blood debt.¡±


    I breathed out. Ah, the Joan incident. That statement matched what my sensors had detected. But Lord Daen¡¯s words sent my thoughts down a separate track.


    Toren had a notable effect on the Relictombs, as evidenced by the words of the Unblooded Party and Sevren Denoir¡¯s strict adherence to the man. At first, I wasn¡¯t certain what it could be attributed to. But if Epheotus had towering buildings of glass and steel¨Cskyscrapers, as the young Daen had stated, then it made sense why a zone appeared with such strange architecture under his influence.


    These revelations made my heart beat a step faster and my thoughts swim with what else I may uncover. A most wonderful puzzle indeed.


    But that was irrelevant right now.


    ¡°In regards to where you may improve, there are several aspects,¡± I said, floating around Toren and inspecting him up and down. His combat form was clean and precise, showing he¡¯d been taught advanced martial arts by someone. Toren¡¯s spellwork was also noteworthy, combining all his strengths into one cohesive style. But it had two pivotal weaknesses.


    ¡°You rely heavily on your mobility, Lord Daen,¡± I said, hovering back in front of the man. ¡°You must learn to fight when there is no other step to take and no directions to run. As a soldier, you may be forced to fight alongside a team. But if you were to use your normal style of combat while fighting amongst a group, you would leave a gap within a battle line. Cylrit capitalized on this reliance on your mobility to great effect.¡±


    Toren hesitated visibly. ¡°I¡¯m not a Shield,¡± he said slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be playing that role in battle.¡±


    I waved my hand dismissively. ¡°You can be whatever you need to be with your Dicathian spellcasting,¡± I said absently. I ignored the step back he took at the mention of his organic magic. ¡°And that is one of the greatest strengths you bring to the board, Lord Daen. A healer, a Striker, a Caster, and a Shield all at once.¡± I smiled slightly at the slightly unsure look on the young man¡¯s face. ¡°It is fortunate you are a native of Sehz-Clar. I have no doubt the other Scythes would have leapt at the opportunity to sink their teeth into you, but mine sank in first.¡±


    And when my teeth sank in, they didn¡¯t let go.


    ¡°And the second weakness?¡± he pushed, meeting my eyes as few dared to do.


    ¡°Your bladework,¡± I said simply. ¡°While you have clear form and instincts, I noticed this in your clashes with not just Cylrit, but the vicars in the front of Bloodstone Elixirs. You have not fought many people sword-to-sword, have you, Lord Daen?¡±


    The man looked surprised at my statement, his eyes flaring. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± he replied honestly. ¡°I am most accustomed to fighting beasts in the Relictombs, not actual mages.¡±


    ¡°Then that shall change,¡± I said primly, settling a ways away. ¡°This war shall be against people, not beasts. People think, scheme, and plan. And so you shall learn to fight people.¡±


    I held out a hand, engaging my magic to summon a dark, dark mana blade. When it phased into existence, I turned around, ready to push Toren Daen to the utmost.


    Except there was a solemn hardness to his features as he stared at the white horn in his hand. ¡°I haven¡¯t killed anyone¡­ innocent, before,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve always managed to act in line with what I think is right, but that won¡¯t hold soon. I wonder what lines I¡¯ll cross in this war.¡±


    It was a simple question. One that every true soldier asked themselves eventually as they faced the reality of war. The Dicathians were not savages; just poor souls caught in between two warring asura clans. And as agents of one side, we were bent to attack the other.


    But the seriousness with which he said it¨Cthe earnesty that seemed to follow in Toren¡¯s every burning footstep¨Cit made him feel so, so warm in a way I did not like. Too many warriors only asked this question when they were already knee-deep in the blood of their foes: but not Toren.


    He seemed to scrape away at my masks with each casual word. I could feel my iron will soften at his question. Part of me wanted to forget training entirely, instead devoting the rest of our time to answering that very question he¡¯d posited. After all, I¡¯d spent many a year devoting myself to finding the right path within that swampy mire of right and wrong. I could tell him how I had finally drawn forth the willpower to do what needed to be done if it meant freeing Alacrya.


    I wanted to know what he¡¯d think of my reasons. Would he think me justified?


    But as I allowed myself those thoughts for a moment, I felt something else, too. My inner shackles loosened¨Cand that meant all of them. A shadow in my blood rose; a creature of dark scales and venomous fangs. And it hated Toren¡¯s light. Wanted to snuff it out, because they were anathema.


    I grabbed that writhing serpent, reasserting control of myself, before shoving it deep, deep within my psyche. I buried it like every other secret I¡¯d ever held, then threw away the key.


    I let out a deep breath. Cylrit was right. Toren Daen was dangerous to all I had built, but not how I had initially suspected.


    ¡°Prepare your weapon, Lord Daen,¡± I said sternly, breaking him from his quiet contemplation. ¡°It is time for training, not for questions.¡±


    Toren shook his head, pushing whatever consuming thoughts he bore into the distance. He held the powerful white horn before him, then conjured another one of his crystalline mana blades as he settled into a combat stance. His eyes flicked to the humming black edge of my sword. ¡°I¡¯ve got a solid healing ability,¡± he said warily, ¡°but I¡¯m not sure I can regenerate a severed limb.¡±


    I felt that buried part of me¨Cthe side of scales and wings and fangs that I¡¯d kept contained since the war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar¨Cstretch my lips into a slight grin despite my attempts to keep it locked away. ¡°There is always a time to test those limits, Lord Daen,¡± I said with a dash of amusement.


    ¡ª


    In the end, I did not deprive Toren Daen of one of his limbs, though I did work him through every bit of bladework that I possibly could.


    He was currently splayed out on his back on the floor of the platform, heaving for breath and drenched in sweat. One of his arms tried to wipe away the sweat from his brow, but it only served to smear his forehead with a bit of dirt.


    He seemed to have an inordinate amount of mana in his core, which I utilized to the best extent for the past several hours. But it seemed that the man¡¯s stamina gave way before his mana.


    A pity.


    I furrowed my brow as I watched Toren roll himself onto his hands and knees, my breathing not out of place by a single measure. It would not do for Lord Daen to push himself so far that he broke rather than grew. This would be enough for the day.


    Cylrit hovered down near Toren, a large bottle of water and towels in his hand. For the first time, I saw a measure of sympathy in my Retainer¡¯s eyes as he offered the items in his hands to the prone Daen, though he did so stiffly.


    He¡¯d been trained by me as well. He knew it was a grueling process.


    ¡°I said something in error earlier, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit muttered as Toren limply grabbed the water bottle. ¡°I will not aim lower in our spars. You suffer enough.¡±


    Toren shakily pushed himself to his feet, weakly gulping down the bottle of water. He didn¡¯t seem to hear my Retainer¡¯s words over how immersed he was in drinking.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he groaned, before collapsing back to the ground again. ¡°I feel like I could sleep for a week,¡± he moaned pitifully.


    ¡°Unfortunately, that option is not available to you, Lord Daen,¡± I said seriously, hovering closer to my exhausted pupil. I hesitated for the barest instant, remembering the confrontation with Varadoth. The horrible, horrible power, and what I knew was a deeply traumatic event for the man lying beneath me. ¡°A Summit has been called for a week from today at Taegrin Caelum, bringing together all the major players in Alacrya to discuss the war. From Truacia to Etril and Vechor to Sehz-Clar, every Scythe and Retainer shall be in attendance to discuss the fate of Dicathen.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°It was called by the High Sovereign himself.¡±


    Toren¡¯s eyes instantly shot open as he looked at me, his pupils narrowing to mute pinpricks. Though my own breath had remained steady in the hours that we had sparred, I felt my chest shudder as I saw a kindred terror in the young man¡¯s eyes. I swallowed. ¡°And you have been¡­ invited.¡±

 Chapter 166: Mapping

    Toren Daen


    A smattering of clouds blocked out the stars from my sight as I left Bloodstone Elixirs. It wasn¡¯t cold out; far from it. The early summer breeze carried a note of salty sea spray as Aedelgard quieted down. Fireflies flashed intermittently in the sky, attempting to return the starlight.


    My body ached in a familiar way. My muscles burned and lagged just as they did so many months ago when I¡¯d first come to this world in the wake of Lady Dawn¡¯s training sessions within the Clarwood Forest.


    The eyes of what employees remained in Bloodstone Elixirs headquarters had tracked me suspiciously, clearly noting my exhaustion and sweat-drenched clothing after leaving the tempus-warp room in the middle of the night without their master. It certainly did not help that my clothing was covered in cuts.


    And one idiot had even given me a thumbs-up and a jaunty grin.


    I wonder if he¡¯d like it, I thought with exhausted annoyance as I left the building at last. What I just went through is not nearly as fun as what he¡¯s thinking about.


    I had a feeling whatever rumors spread around would be exactly what I¡¯d been worried about.


    Goddamn Scythe, I thought piteously as I plopped down on a bench. It gave a nice view of the Aedelgard cliffs opening up toward the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea. An endless expanse of water stretched from horizon to horizon, vast in a way that was awe-inspiring. Her and her stupid politics. Should¡¯ve just taken the Red Light District offer before we tempus warped, I thought crankily, feeling a bit annoyed at how Seris had thrashed me in blade training and needing an outlet to vent.


    Though I had a distinct feeling that taking up the alternative offer would have made my training worse. And more painful. I probably would have lost a limb if I did that.


    There was just no winning sometimes.


    I shifted my arm to try and drape it along the back of the bench, but even that movement sent sharp aches along my deltoid muscles. I opted to just let it lay limp on the seat.


    I would have expected some sort of scathing remark by now, I joked tiredly to my bond. Considering your opinions on Renea Shorn. Seris. Whatever.


    The Unseen World blanketed my vision, and I turned my head to the side. Through the misty cast to my vision, Aurora¡¯s shade was leaning against the bench, her eyes solemn.


    ¡°One of the greatest lessons I was ever forced to learn was to change my perspective in the face of contradictory evidence,¡± she said. ¡°It is still difficult to do so.¡±


    I looked back at the sea, watching the calm waves as they streamed through the bay. The port of Aedelgard was often called the Vritra¡¯s Lip considering how the continent looked from far above. I wondered now if we were not truly crushed in a Sovereign¡¯s jaw instead, ready to be swallowed and digested whole.


    Most people don¡¯t know how to do that, no matter their age, I said, trying to be affirming to my bond.


    Aurora held me on the shoulder, her gaze distant. ¡°I told you once that Renea Shorn moved like Agrona. And that is true, Toren. And you must never allow yourself to forget that. But¡­¡± The phoenix shade quieted as a firefly drifted near, its light a desperate attempt to match the liquid fire in my bond¡¯s eyes.


    She raised a gently glowing hand, lifting it as if she were actually holding the tiny insect. She inspected it with sadness in her gaze. ¡°When I fled in fear from the High Sovereign, it was Seris Vritra who rushed to your aid,¡± she said quietly. ¡°When I could not be a mother to my son, it was a child of the Vritra who stood to defend you against their god.¡±


    I thought of how Seris had thrown herself in front of me as Varadoth¡¯s attacks had rained down against Agrona. I wasn¡¯t certain I would have been able to withstand the deluge on my own, especially while protecting Greahd. And Seris had stood her ground, ready to defend me when I couldn¡¯t defend myself.


    ¡°I do not dismiss your future knowledge, Toren,¡± Aurora continued, lowering her hand as the firefly flitted up in a spiral through the night sky. ¡°I do not doubt that Seris Vritra conspires against Agrona; that her plans lay pieces for a far away rebellion. But a person¡¯s convictions are made true by their actions, not their words. Agrona was willing to slay his own fiance and condemn his daughter to death. But in moving to protect you, Seris showed herself to be different from Agrona.¡± My bond¡¯s lips twisted into a rare, knowing smile as she looked down at me. ¡°And when you collapsed from backlash in the wake of your battle with Mardeth, I was always watching. I would not allow her to hurt you. You must imagine my surprise when the Scythe treated you¡­ tenderly.¡±


    I turned my head away, unable to really answer. Truthfully, I hadn¡¯t thought too much about what must have happened after my collapse after fighting Mardeth, but Seris was certainly involved.


    We sat in silence for a long, long time, watching the sea and admiring the beauty of the world. I thought of the future, and of what I would need to do once my boots stepped onto Dicathian soil.


    My thoughts came full circle as they all threaded back to one single truth.


    The upcoming summit. Seris and I both knew I wasn¡¯t merely ¡®invited.¡¯ When the Lord of the Vritra said you were to attend, you attended.


    ¡°I wish you would not,¡± Aurora said sadly, reading my thoughts. ¡°I wish you would stay away from that horrible, horrible fortress.¡±


    I know, I thought back sympathetically. But we both know I need to go.


    Lady Dawn was silent as her hair shifted in an invisible wind. She knew it, too. Every Scythe and Retainer would be present at this summit, where the war in Dicathen would be discussed. I could provide a hundred different logical reasons to attend. I could get a feel for the political landscape of Alacrya¡¯s upper echelon. I could learn a bit about Taegrin Caelum¡¯s layout.


    But those reasons were all insubstantial before the greatest. Because if all the powers of Alacrya were to be present, then that meant Nico Sever would be there, too.


    ¡ª Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Not far down the street on the second layer of the Relictombs, the light inside the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard flickered merrily. During the ascent where I¡¯d encountered the undead zone, Darrin Ordin had promised me a round on him in that tavern should we make it out alive.


    I had a feeling I¡¯d never get that alcohol.


    I¡¯d changed my clothes for more conventional battle gear. My pants were breathable down to my leather boots, while I wore a tunic with solid leather vambraces and pauldrons that still allowed my arms a good range of motion. Inversion was shoved into my belt.


    I sensed the two approaching a way before I could see them. Caera and Sevren Denoir both wore hoods that covered their faces, masking their features from onlookers. When they saw me, they quickly hurried over.


    ¡°What took you so long?¡± I prodded jovially, smiling at Caera¡¯s slightly irritated face. ¡°I could¡¯ve gone on an entire ascent in the time it took you to get here.¡±


    In reality, it was ten minutes past the agreed-upon meeting time. But it was more fun to exaggerate.


    ¡°I had to sneak out, Toren,¡± Caera snapped, her head darting around nervously. ¡°It¡¯s only the second time I¡¯ve done this. I need to be careful! So I took my time.¡±


    I chanced a glance at Sevren, namely his missing arm. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ll be able to get away with a legal ascent considering¡­¡± I said, trailing off. His family likely would rip away his Ascender¡¯s Badge if they hadn¡¯t already, using his injury as justification.


    Sevren¡¯s face darkened slightly, the white-haired striker¡¯s intent closing off. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Mother won¡¯t be¡­ interfering in my activities now.¡±


    I looked between the siblings, sensing an undercurrent of something painful and unresolved smoldering there. ¡°Okay,¡± I said, pushing off the wall behind me. ¡°You told me you had a plan for this specific ascent. Care to tune me in?¡±


    Sevren shook his head as we began to walk, Caera at his side. ¡°Wait until we¡¯re in the Tombs,¡± he said. ¡°I can¡¯t chance anyone overhearing.¡±


    While I could muffle any sound the Denoir heir made, it seemed to be the principle of the thing that held him back more than anything. I could understand that.


    ¡°Hey,¡± Caera piped up, a wrinkle to her pristine expression, ¡°What exactly is a Shimmerken? I don¡¯t know of any sort of mana beast called that,¡± she questioned, referencing the tavern we¡¯d just left behind.


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    I blinked, realizing belatedly that I didn¡¯t know either. ¡°That¡¯s a good question,¡± I said, subtly looking at Sevren. ¡°I don¡¯t actually know.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you both want me to explain it to you,¡± Sevren said with a suffering sigh. ¡°Well, back in the days before preliminary ascents were strictly vetted and registered, young mages used to disappear frequently whenever an ascender took them up. The wogart farmer would return unharmed, of course, claiming some random aether beast had eaten them alive. And then their own rune cards would suddenly have metric tons more cash. A truly strange coincidence,¡± he said sarcastically.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we have to vet ascenders first, now,¡± Caera replied, nodding along. ¡°And most men who take mages on preliminaries put something valuable down for collateral should they return alone.¡±


    ¡°You remember your lessons,¡± Sevren said proudly, earning a smile from his adopted sister. ¡°But the trend became large enough that the term ¡®Shimmerken¡¯ was coined as a catch-all for whatever monster ate the poor preliminary ascenders. The mythical Shimmerken supposedly preyed only on prelim-goers, taking all their wealth to a special hoard.¡± He waved dramatically. ¡°Thus, the Shimmerken¡¯s Hoard.¡±


    Huh, I thought, That¡¯s actually kind of fascinating. I wonder what other tidbits of lore are like that?


    Caera chuckled slightly. ¡°Ah, so it¡¯s a kind of fairy tale. Like the dragons coming to snatch you from your cradle, or the Wraiths descending down when you fail your lessons.¡±


    Sevren nodded. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s made up. Like the Wraiths. Just a way to¨C¡±


    ¡°The Wraiths are real,¡± I said seriously, cutting across my friend¡¯s words as I kept my gaze focused on the upcoming portal. ¡°Agrona¡¯s half-blood warriors do exist.¡±


    Caera chuckled at first, clearly thinking I was joking. But as she saw Sevren¡¯s sheet-white face and my severe facade, her expression fell into uncertainty. ¡°You are joking, aren¡¯t you? I mean, there¡¯s no way the High Sovereign has an army of these warriors at his beck and call. We¡¯ve never seen them, have we?¡±


    I gave Caera a pointed look. ¡°You were able to hide your own secrets perfectly for years,¡± I said, tapping a finger against the crown of my skull in reference. ¡°Imagine what could be done if you had control of all information.¡±


    While the navy-haired noble still looked uncertain, she didn¡¯t talk about it again. Sevren¡¯s jaw clenched, however. He alone knew I had the ghost of a warrior asura as my bond, attached to my soul and whispering secrets into my ears. My words had far, far more effect on him than his sister.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the three of us to register for an ascent. Caera had gone on her prelim with her brother not long ago, and though Sevren hadn¡¯t explained everything to me yet, he¡¯d told me that he¡¯d gone to a specific zone to collect materials for what we were going to do today.


    When the three of us walked up to the ascension portal, Sevren covertly withdrew an item from his dimensional storage.


    It looked like a small, near-perfect sphere of dark carapace, with slight ridges here and there. There were half a dozen runes scrawled into the surface, each pulsing with power I could feel flood across my skin.


    ¡°This is the secret to what Caera and I did a week or two ago,¡± he whispered, holding the ball reverently. ¡°I¡¯ll explain it to you once we¡¯re inside.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± I said, laying a hand on Sevren¡¯s arm. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t trust you or anything, but what kind of battle formation are we going for? You don¡¯t exactly have a good way to deal damage in whatever zone we enter.¡±


    Sevren smirked deviously, his white teeth matching his hair. He flourished his hand, another item settled there from his dimension ring.


    ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± I breathed, my eyes widening as I looked at what settled into his hand.


    It was clearly some sort of gun, magazine and all. Except the silverish-blue metal radiated with barely detectable mana, and I could sense a condensed charge of some sort of fire attribute within.


    ¡°I found a way to adapt,¡± the Denoir heir said proudly. ¡°Thanks to that one item you showed me a while back.¡±


    It took me a bare moment to put it together. Sevren had used his regalia on the Relictombs gun when I¡¯d allowed him to look at it.


    I closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my fingers as I tried to process this. Most mages below yellow core probably wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything about a bullet. And while I was all for empowering those without strength, the sudden implications of seeing a Glock rushed through my system. But I could think about what effect this could have on warfare later.


    ¡°You should see the power that thing packs,¡± Caera commented lightly. ¡°It nearly ripped his arm out of his socket with every shot until he got the timing for his mass alteration rune down.¡±


    ¡°Have you shown that to anyone else?¡± I asked, feeling another note of worry. If word got around that Sevren Denoir was using Earthen technology, I had a bad feeling he¡¯d quickly draw the wrong kind of attention.


    ¡°Nobody,¡± Sevren said slowly, sensing my anxiety. ¡°And I didn¡¯t plan to unless it was necessary. What has you so worried?¡±


    I looked at the purple pane of the portal in front of us. ¡°That weapon was created in Scythe Nico¡¯s homeland,¡± I said, hoping he got the message. ¡°So unless you want the wrong kind of attention¡­¡±


    Caera¡¯s scarlet eyes widened, while her brother¡¯s sharpened into steel. We both knew I still kept some secrets, but he didn¡¯t press. ¡°I understand,¡± he said, quietly withdrawing his makeshift gun into his dimension ring. ¡°Let¡¯s get started, then,¡± he said, facing the portal, too.


    Sevren held the scrawled sphere of carapace aloft. ¡°Stick close to me. That should make the aetheric tether bind better.¡±


    Then he stepped into the portal. Not a second later, I followed, trusting in our shared simulets to see us through.


    And to my surprise, ended up in the Town Zone. I blinked in surprise. Sevren hadn¡¯t used his rune on the portal to change the destination, had he?


    ¡°Sevren showed me this place last time,¡± Caera breathed out, her eyes sparkling as they absorbed the scenery. I noticed half a dozen strange electric-blue vats far in the distance that absolutely radiated mana, standing stark against the array of Alacryan and American architecture.


    ¡°This was what I spent my last ascent with my sister doing,¡± Sevren said as he turned to look at me, hefting the small orb. ¡°When I first tracked you through the Relictombs, I used the remains of a certain type of aether beast to create a sort of tether between us, not unlike simulets. I called these beasts tethertails, and I hadn¡¯t seen anything like them since. But once Caera pointed it out, I noted that I could return again and again to that zone, farming the tethertails for what were once rare ingredients without burdening my lifeforce.¡±


    Sevren smiled deeply, his teal eyes flashing as he held his sole arm out to the side in a grandiose gesture. ¡°And now the entire Relictombs can be mapped.¡±


    I laughed deeply and sonorously, the sudden proclamation making something in my core quake in excitement. ¡°Hell, Sevren,¡± I said, my laughter fading away after a moment. ¡°I think you¡¯re a genius!¡±


    Agrona had been working for millennia to figure out how to map these Relictombs, and Sevren had made a way in under a week by thinking outside the box.


    Sevren waved my statement away. ¡°The system is imperfect still,¡± he said, walking toward one of the houses. Caera and I followed him as he continued to talk. ¡°For each zone, you need an ¡®anchor¡¯ and a ¡®tether.¡¯ The carapace sphere I showed you earlier acts as the tether. I¡¯ve laid an anchor inside this zone, which was why we were able to reach it without me using my spellform.¡±


    I opened my mouth, about to ask a question, when Sevren opened the door to the house.


    Instead, I was left feeling confused as I saw a massive shelf taking up the entire space of the house. The upper floor had been carved away, leaving room for the layered construction to stretch all across the back wall and up past the windows.


    There were small divots in the shelves at set intervals, with nameplates in front of the slight dips. The reason for these dips quickly became apparent, as there were several that were filled. I saw a few of the same spherical objects scrawled with runes settled into those divots.


    ¡°For each zone we want to mark, we need another tether sphere for an ascender to hold,¡± Sevren said, staring up at the massive shelf. ¡°It would be far more efficient if we only needed one that you could key toward different anchors, but it is what it is,¡± he said sadly.


    ¡°This is still amazing,¡± I breathed, imagining the possibilities. ¡°Agrona himself has been trying to do something like this for millennia. And you¡¯ve made more progress in a few months than he ever has,¡± I said, awestruck.


    Sevren coughed into his fist, seemingly embarrassed. ¡°But that¡¯s where you come in,¡± he said.


    Caera spoke up next. ¡°What my genius brother means to say,¡± she said, smiling at Sevren, ¡°Is that we¡¯ll both be going on ascents. When you go into a zone, you¡¯re going to lay down an anchor, take a few notes on what the zone was like, and snap a few pictures with a recording artifact. Then you¡¯ll eventually make your way back here, storing everything in one big bank!¡±


    The excited way she said it was infectious. I felt anticipation as it gradually subsumed all other thoughts. I slammed a fist into my palm, feeling a grin stretch across my face. ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡±


    ¡ª


    Not long after, I stood in front of the ascension portal, half a dozen anchor stakes stashed in my dimension ring. Their requisite tether spheres were stashed in the massive shelf repository, each ready to have a true destination applied. I also had a tether sphere keyed for the Town Zone so I could return at will when I was finished.


    Nearby, Caera was working through a few blade forms with her large ruby sword. She was sharp and precise, skilled in a way I rarely saw. Sweat beaded down her face as she pirouetted, her weapon smashing away an imagined foe. I felt slightly entranced as I watched the display, the beauty of her bladework clear.


    Sevren was making some last-minute preparations in one of the houses, leaving his sister to loosen her bones. She spun once, meeting my eyes for a split second as she swiveled beneath a curtain of navy hair.


    She halted with perfect precision, raising an inquisitive brow at my inspection of her form. ¡°Never seen a woman work through sword forms before, Toren?¡± she teased lightly.


    ¡°Caera,¡± I said with a suffering sigh, ¡°A day ago, I was training bladework with Seris.¡±


    The Vritra-blooded woman sucked air through her teeth, a sympathetic groan exiting her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still walking,¡± she said, striding over and staring at the portal. ¡°She doesn¡¯t exactly play around with that.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders subconsciously, feeling the pain of the time Seris had thwacked me with the flat of her mana blade. ¡°She could stand to let you breathe in between repetitions,¡± I bemoaned. ¡°But then¨C¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t making full use of the energy you have,¡± Caera said in unison with me, both of us quoting the Scythe. Caera¡¯s shoulders drooped. ¡°That¡¯s the worst excuse I¡¯ve ever heard. You can¡¯t even move your legs after it all! What energy?!¡±


    Sevren strolled over, his sole hand holding his gun lightly. His eyes darted between Caera and me, a skeptical brow raised. ¡°What has the two of you looking so defeated?¡±


    Caera and I maintained eye contact for a long moment, a silent bond of shared suffering uniting us. Both of us toiled under Scythe Seris¡¯ training.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand, brother,¡± Caera said seriously, straightening and pushing a lock of navy hair from her face. ¡°The suffering we go through. All for progress.¡±


    Sevren looked utterly confused as Caera and I faced the portal in unison. He would be going with his sister on their own ascent, while I would ascend solo. We¡¯d be able to map twice as many zones this way.


    ¡°Well,¡± the white-haired striker said, a note of suspicion in his voice. ¡°Let¡¯s chart the unchartable, shall we?¡±

 Chapter 167: Mountaintops

    Toren Daen


    I emerged from the portal into the next zone, blinking in surprise as a wave of biting, cold air enveloped my face. I grunted in annoyance, surveying my surroundings and raising my hand against the harsh wind. I instinctively covered myself in a layer of fire mana, immediately feeling a hint of relief.


    It looked like I was on a snowy mountainside, mirrored stone mountain peaks jutting out in every other direction. I turned in a slow circle, observing my surroundings.


    ¡°Damn,¡± I said sourly. ¡°Couldn¡¯t be an easy zone, could it?¡± I thought, looking at the distant peaks. Far, far away, there was an utterly massive mountain that thrust through the clouds. ¡°And that¡¯s probably the exit, too,¡± I muttered with irritation.


    ¡°These zones are a trial, Toren,¡± Aurora thought to me. ¡°You cannot escape that truth so easily.¡±


    I shook my head, dismissing those thoughts. This close to the entrance, I had a job to do. I withdrew a single item from my dimension ring.


    A long, black carapace spike glowed with purple runes along its edge as it settled in my hand. According to Sevren, this was the tail of a small aether beast that was able to leave it as a trap while its body retreated into a sort of pocket dimension. By using the feedback between the tail and the body, the Denoir heir had managed to create tethers through dimensions.


    I walked through the snow for a little bit, spotting a rock outcropping further up in the white expanse. Once I reached that bit, I slammed the spike into the rock, anchoring it there.


    ¡°That¡¯s part one done,¡± I said, feeling my lips go dry from the cold. ¡°Anchor set. Now I just need to¨C¡±


    I was forced to swivel on my heel as I heard a rabid howling. Looking up, my eyes widened as they spotted a pack of large, white-furred wolves as they barrelled down the mountain slopes.


    I drew Inversion as one of the creatures leapt at me, a maw filled with icy teeth flashing for my neck. The horn tore out its throat as it passed, its snarl becoming a whimper as blood coated the snow. The body¨Ceasily twice my size¨Ctumbled down the mountainside, leaving splotches of red as it went.


    The other wolves slowed as they saw me so easily dispatch one of their numbers. They circled me, their haunches raised as they snarled and snapped. I slowly turned, trying and failing to keep all these predators in my sight. One of the first lessons I¡¯d learned in the Clarwood Forest so many months ago? Predators would always attack if your back was turned.


    Sure enough, one of the wolves darted for me. Its skin was coated in a strange sort of ice as it leapt, trying to tackle me with its bulk.


    I simply went low, creating a pushing current of telekinetic force over my head as I moved back slightly. Predictably, the wolf was sent tumbling toward its companions.


    Need to move, I thought, building fire up along the soles of my boots. Can¡¯t let them reorganize.


    So before any of the wolves could even move in surprise, I darted after the tumbling aether beast. Coating the edge of my weapon in a layer of vibrating sound, I brought it down like an ice pick over the aether beast¡¯s chest. Inversion pierced the thing¡¯s heart in a blur, blood splattering and steaming as it entered the cold air.


    I was already moving before it was dead, throwing the body¨Cwhich must have weighed at least five hundred pounds¨Ctoward a cluster of the lupine predators.


    One of them dodged haphazardly to the side, the air stinking of sudden fear. The other was hit square-on, both sent into a tumble down the slopes in a rabble of barks and yowls.


    I turned, rolling my shoulders as I looked at the couple remaining wolves. They backed away slowly, snarling as their quick-thumping lifeforces broadcasted their fear. I snarled back, flexing my killing intent. The blood of their brethren dripped off my arms.


    The wolves whimpered, turning tail and fleeing down the slope. I watched them go with hard eyes, my breath steaming.


    In that state of utter focus, I heard something caress my ears. A slight, slight heartbeat. A bare pitter patter of lifeforce that was so, so close.


    I stabbed Inversion into the snow where I heard the heartbeat. I could see nothing and sense no mana, but I was surprised when I felt the blade pierce flesh. When I withdrew it, it was red with blood.


    A pure-white rabbit with a single horn fizzed into existence near my feet. What I had once thought was snow seemed to shift entirely, showing the animal¡¯s corpse. My weapon had pierced its heart.


    ¡°It uses aether to mask its presence,¡± Aurora thought in wonder, the Unseen World appearing around me as the shade inspected the rabbit with curiosity. ¡°What novel prey!¡±


    I looked at the rabbit¡¯s body for a bare moment, then turned to the massive central mountain that pierced the cloud cover. It was easily a few hundred miles away, and though I was fast, it would take me a long, long time to weave through the mountains around us and maintain expert speed.


    However, the fact I could see so far into the distance did confirm a long-held question. Relictombs zones did not, in fact, have a curvature to mimic gravity.


    But that was beside the point. If I wanted to make it to that summit on time¨Cpun intended¨Cthen I needed a better way to travel.


    ¡°Hey, Aurora?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you want to fly again?¡±


    The shade stopped her inspection of the dead rabbit, piercing me with her burning suns. She read my thoughts as I sent them over, a truly genuine smile stretching over her face.


    ¡°I would love to,¡± she said, raw excitement threading our bond.


    ¡ª


    I held the bronze relic as I imbued it with a measure of heartfire. I watched as Aurora¡¯s threads wove into the structure, the brooch shifting to become a small songbird in a flare of light.


    I¡¯d only done this once before, and it had been on instinct and pure terror as I faced down Mardeth at the headwaters of the Redwater. Now though, when I finally had time to think and do it properly?


    I gently grasped the orange-purple puppet strings from Aurora¡¯s hands, ignoring the biting chill in the air with the strength of my part-asuran physique. With a bare tug, they disconnected from her control. The clockwork songbird went limp.


    I moved the source of the threads, remembering Sevren¡¯s words just after he¡¯d lost his arm. Then I pressed them against my core, allowing the heartfire veins to enwrap my nexus of energy and caress the phoenix feather within.


    Immediately, I felt the draw from my reserves of lifeforce, but it wasn¡¯t as taxing as the first time. The more I healed myself; the more I used this energy? The more it regenerated with greater stores than before. Like a muscle being worked, I only needed to push myself.


    I felt sweat bead on my face as aetheric heartfire rushed along the expanding cord connecting Aurora¡¯s feather to the djinn relic.


    Then the bronze-colored metal seemed to unfold from itself, growing as my bond¡¯s spirit possessed its structure. I withheld a gasp of awe as the transformation took place, feeling as if I beheld, if just for a moment, the true majesty of the phoenix.


    Aurora¡¯s relic now towered above me, easily two stories tall. A warmth radiated from the large bronze feathers, like that of an old steam boiler. Purple-orange mist puffed from bare cracks in the plumage, a chugging whir resonating from deep within the structure. Eyes like burning stars radiated amusement and anticipation far above. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My bond lowered her large beak to me, nustling my forehead as I brushed a reverent hand against the metallic surface.


    ¡°The last time I donned this cloak, I was forced to revert far too early,¡±Aurora said aloud, a deep melodic timber to her voice that warmed me from my core. ¡°Now, my son, you shall see the true wonder of flight. Know the right that I have bestowed upon you; the dominion of the air.¡±


    ¡°The dominion of the air,¡± I breathed, running my hand along the intricate artifact.


    I slowly plodded around toward the relic¡¯s back, feeling a surreal sense of disbelief as I hesitantly mounted the massive metal machine, settling myself near the wings. The metal was warm under my hands.


    ¡°So, do I just¨C¡± I started.


    But then Aurora¡¯s wings flapped. The sound was like that of clashing steel as her feathers rustled, the snow blown all around us in an expansive ring. Then she flapped them again.


    I clasped my bond¡¯s neck, sensing what was about to happen. With a triumphant screech, Lady Dawn pushed the relic she inhabited off the ground with a powerful sweep of her bladed wings. Cold wind rushed past my face, biting through my barrier of fire mana as we rocketed straight up. I clenched my teeth against the pressure, feeling my stomach do little twists and turns in my chest.


    ¡°Free!¡± Aurora cried jubilantly as we ascended, faster and faster. I engaged my telekinetic emblem, lashing myself further to my bond for fear I would fall off. She didn¡¯t seem to mind. ¡°We are free in the sky, Toren! Unburdened by the ground! Far from our struggles!¡±


    Her joy was infectious as it streamed over our bond. I laughed aloud as we went higher and higher, the cold air no barrier to my bond. The heat she radiated kept me warm as the clouds slowly approached.


    ¡°Brace yourself, Toren!¡± she exclaimed as we neared the cloud layer. ¡°The water is cold and biting!¡±


    Following the advice of the phoenix, I thrust my hand forward, enveloping myself in a wall of pushing telekinesis. Then we hit the mist.


    Water streamed around me as my white barrier absorbed the splash of condensation. Aurora cut a streak through the clouds as we ascended further.


    And then we broke through, emerging as a butterfly breaks through their chrysalis. I whooped aloud as we were finally greeted by the atmosphere above, a nigh-infinite expanse of fluffy white only broken by the far-off point of a mountain peak: our destination.


    I laughed lightly as I looked around, feeling a bit of awe. We were truly flying. I¡¯d never imagined something like this in either world I¡¯d lived in. From so far above, my perspective was so vast. I felt I could absorb the entire world into my eye.


    ¡°Is this how it always was for you?¡± I asked headily, staring out into the white infinity.


    ¡°It was one of my greatest joys, my son,¡± Aurora crooned, flapping her wings as she evened out into a horizontal line toward the far-off peak. ¡°And once you reach the white core, you too shall experience this freedom.¡±


    I sighed wistfully, allowing myself to imagine what that would be like. Being able to fly, free of the constraints of gravity?


    I was still a long way away from white core. I was solidly in mid-silver stage, but the streaming mana from Aurora¡¯s feather wasn¡¯t purifying my core as fast as it had initially. The jump from silver to white core was more substantial than any others before.


    ¡°Once upon a time, the Asclepius clan were the greatest hunters in Epheotus,¡± Aurora said loftily. ¡°With our command of the skies, no prey escaped our sight, be they beast of mana or an enemy of the clan. Thus is your right, too, when you have grown enough to claim it.¡±


    I felt myself smile as we settled into a steady soar. Eventually, not even the skies would bar my way.


    ¡ª


    Several hours later, I laid back on my bond¡¯s metallic feathers, my pen scratching away at a notebook. I scribbled what bare observations I¡¯d made of the zone into a pad, noting its temperature, aether beasts, and suspected ecosystem.


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    Snow rabbits may have potential use in some sort of illusion artifact, I jotted down, the wind brushing past my body. Ice wolf pelts likely have extraordinary insulating properties.


    I looked up from my work, noting the fast-approaching mountain peak, jutting through the clouds like the fist of a god.


    ¡°I will revert my form when we reach the peak,¡± Aurora said solemnly, ¡°So you may fight whatever enemy awaits your challenge at the top.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Actually, Seris¡¯ words about fighting amidst a team bore some truth,¡± I said against the wind. With a bare application of sound magic, none of it was lost to the thick breeze. ¡°We¡¯re a team, Aurora. We should be able to fight as one. While we can¡¯t always do so in Alacrya for fear of Agrona noticing something off, on Dicathen we will have more leeway.¡±


    My bond tilted her avian head, looking back at me with one grateful burning eye. ¡°Your words ring true, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°One day, I may thank Seris Vritra for her tutelage of you. Even if her lessons are imperfect.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Sounds to me like someone is jealous,¡± I retorted as we nearly reached the mountaintop. I could almost make out the structure at the top. ¡°You don¡¯t get the honorable title of being my only teacher anymore.¡±


    Aurora scoffed, the sound like a thresher of knives. ¡°It is unseemly to accuse me of such baseless¨C¡±


    My eyes widened as I spotted something hurtle toward us from the mountaintop, a streak of whitish blue. I opened my mouth to warn my bond, but she was already moving.


    Aurora did a barrel roll, barely avoiding the speeding hunk of ice. In the process of rotating, I nearly dropped my pen and pad. I hastily stored them in my dimension ring, fearful the upcoming fight would take them from me.


    I gritted my teeth as I leaned forward in my perch, focusing mana into my eyes to try and hone in on whatever had thrown that projectile. My hands held tightly to my bond¡¯s neck, but we were still a mile or two from our destination. I couldn¡¯t properly see yet.


    ¡°See what I see,¡± Aurora said hastily, shifting to avoid another projectile. ¡°Use my senses!¡±


    I obliged, brushing my hand against the tether between us. Apparently, Aurora¡¯s relic granted her far superior eyesight to anything I could currently manage. I was granted a vision of the fast-approaching peak.


    A large monster compacted ice in two of its four massive hands, each appearing strong enough to crush boulders. The thing looked like a classical depiction of a yeti; all white fur and blue-tinted skin. The other two of its arms held a massive club and shield respectively, each gleaming a deep crystalline blue.


    The monster¨Ceasily thirty feet tall¨Ctossed one of the compacted spheres of ice into the air, then swung with its club. The ice shot toward us with the unerring speed of a cannonball, easily crossing the mile-wide distance as it sought my bond¡¯s construct.


    I hurled a fireball out, the streaking orange ball of mana colliding with the ice in a shower of steam and cold shards. I felt them sting against my skin as we continued to approach.


    As we proceeded to get closer, however, the beast shifted tactics. It scraped ice from the ground in front of it, compacting the frozen water into its palms once more. Then it crunched its hands, creating myriad chunks of crushed ice. It revved its arm back, a savage snarl on its abominable visage, before throwing the tenderized ice.


    Except as the infinitesimal shrapnel flew toward us, each glimmering sharp shard glowed with a purple sheen that seemed to refract the sunlight. Gradually, they slowed midair, that purple highlight intensifying.


    The yeti proceeded to repeat the process a second and third time, throwing shrapnel that seemed to freeze in time. A glittering blue-purple wall of ice shards awaited us as we approached.


    My eyes widened, connecting the dots. ¡±Aevum!¡± I hissed. ¡°That thing is slowing the time down for the shrapnel it touches!¡± I said frantically.


    But that wouldn¡¯t work as an attack, unless¨C


    Time resumed for a third of the ice shards, a hundred biting stings seeking to obliterate us. I pulled my head low, throwing up a barrier of fiery telekinesis as Aurora screeched in defiance. Were she a living, breathing creature, perhaps the peppering barrage of razor-sharp ice would have drawn innumerable cuts, causing her to stream blood onto the ground. I imagined that most other flying beasts would have their wings shredded by such an attack.


    Then the other attack had time resume. Then the other. We were covered in a veritable hailstorm of sharp shards in a split instant, peppering across Aurora¡¯s bronze hide with innumerable dings and scrapes. Those that neared me were incinerated by my barrier of pushing fire, and only one made it through to shatter across my telekinetic shroud.


    Aurora¡¯s wings flared wide as she howled in fury, a rumbling whir intertwined as we burst from the cloud of frost. Her talons thrust outward as they were coated in red plasma, the burning-sharp edges poised to rip out the throat of the yeti monster just beyond.


    The thing grunted in abject surprise as the relic emerged unscathed, but it was faster than I expected. The yeti brought its thick blue shield in front of its face just in time, Aurora¡¯s talons carving deep, steaming divots into the material as she soared past.


    The thirty-foot tall colossus, covered head to toe in white fur, roared in defiance as it turned to follow Aurora¡¯s ascent.


    That was a mistake. Having leapt from my bond¡¯s back right before her first attack, I jumped up from the side, swinging a shrouded plasma blade toward its exposed arm. My Acquire Phase burned hot along my veins, guiding my swing with inborn instinct.


    My weapon cut through flesh with ease, severing tendons and cauterizing where it passed. The arm¨Cas thick around as my torso¨Cfell limp as the thing roared. The many-armed yeti whirled with impossible speed, its massive club breaking the air as it swung it in an underhand sweep toward me.


    The purple-sheened club rent stone and ice from the mountaintop as it streaked toward me like the cudgel of a giant. I barely dodged to the side, the wind from its passing pushing me back.


    The chips of gravel and frozen water that streaked from the cudgel¡¯s impact slowed in the air, that violet hue holding them tight like a wall. The giant charged after me, its footsteps like the rumble of a bass drum. I only had a split second to think.


    Aurora! I thought to my bond. Don¡¯t let that thing hit you! Its touch gradually slows the time of whatever it hits!


    ¡°I understand!¡± she thought back.


    I couldn¡¯t afford to make a single mistake in close quarters. Slamming a mindfire stamp into the ground beneath me, I rocketed backward, throwing a compressed grenade of fire and sound at the monster¡¯s face.


    Its shield raised to smash through my spell, but I allowed it to detonate first. A wave of fire and ringing noise exploded like a flashbang, causing the creature to roar as it stumbled backward, its fur singed and smoking.


    My bond didn¡¯t let the opening go. She hovered at the side, her beak wide and brimming with power. A beam of solid red plasma streaked from her maw, the light continuing in an unerring path for its target. The yeti wavered as it put its icy shield¨Cstill scraped through from Aurora¡¯s claws¨Cin front of its torso.


    The plasma impacted the icy shield with the force of a truck, but the yeti held strong even as its icy protection began to slowly melt. Through it all, Lady Dawn¡¯s construct continued to edge closer as she maintained her position, forcing the large yeti to hold ground. It roared in defiance, one arm drooping from where I¡¯d cut it before.


    ¡°I can not hold this beam for long, Toren!¡± my bond cried across my mind. Her constructs mana reserves were fueled by the constant energy pouring from her feather. If her expenditure outpaced that buildup, she¡¯d only have the metal on her claws. ¡°Make it count!¡±


    The yeti¡¯s other free hand scraped against the ground, picking up a large boulder and preparing to throw it at Aurora as she flapped in the sky, a solid plasma beam locking them both in place. But I wasn¡¯t about to let that happen.


    I blurred forward from a mindfire stamp, my shrouded saber focused through Inversion. The humming red plasma blade held a singular purpose as I levered it, prepared to capitalize on the yeti¡¯s predicament.


    It saw me coming first. It grunted as it tried to throw the boulder at me instead, hoping I¡¯d be warded off. I smelt the fear in the yeti¡¯s blood as I pulled on the several tons of stone hurtling toward me, flipping over it and using its forward momentum to launch me even closer.


    Evidently recognizing me as a threat, the yeti tried to disengage from Lady Dawn¡¯s attack. But as she had said earlier, the Asclepius clan were the greatest hunters in Epheotus. My phoenix bond knew when prey would try and move; attempt to avoid their own demise.


    When the massive creature tried to shift its melting buckler out of the way and sidestep, Aurora adjusted slightly in the air. The red beam of plasma shifted, burning a hole the size of my torso into the giant¡¯s shoulder. It roared in pain, but clearly not enough.


    It turned, swinging its purple-clad club at me. I hit the ground as I blurred forward, bending backward at an angle that would have put me in physical therapy for a month had I tried it on Earth. I skidded on my shins as it passed a hair¡¯s breadth from my nose. The ice carried me along smoothly as I sprung back up, narrowly avoiding the monster¡¯s massive foot as it tried to kick me.


    I felt my heart in my ears as I peppered the creature with fireshot, but it only served to singe the creature¡¯s fur. It roared as it turned desperately, failing to swat me away like the biting fly I was. Lady Dawn, unable to act for fear of catching me in the blast, circled nervously on high, her magic prepared.


    I swung my saber across the heel of the monster as I skated between its legs, hearing the grunt of pain and thunderous crash of its body hitting the ice once its balance gave out. Without the thing¡¯s mobility, it would be a rat in a cage as Aurora and I wore it down from the air and the ground. I skidded to a brief stop, rotating and using the time-frozen chunks of gravel and ice from earlier to keep my balance. Then I spun, ready to finish the fight.


    And I watched as the world began to gradually speed up. As if I were watching a time-lapsed video, the yeti began to push itself to one knee, a triumphant smirk slowly, slowly splitting its savage maw.


    I realized it almost the instant it happened. It caught me somehow, I thought, feeling panicked. My time is slowing down! I¡¯ll be like a frozen statue before long!


    I heard a flash of Aurora¡¯s voice, but it came as if it were from a sped-up recording. I couldn¡¯t make sense of what she was trying to tell me.


    By touching the frozen rubble behind me, the effect had somehow transferred to my body instead.


    Before the yeti could turn me into a wet stain on the ground, however, Lady Dawn¡¯s relic smashed into it from above. Its leg crumpled as she tried to pin it down, her beak and talons ripping and tearing at its fur-laden flesh. Blood and gore spread as it tumbled to the ground from her bulk, the movements occurring faster and faster.


    I started trying to run, slamming a mindfire stamp into the ground as I attempted to approach. But it was as if the world were moving on without me, leaving my panicked mind behind as it continued on its way.


    Aurora pinned the arm holding the cudgel, fighting to stop it from swinging with the fury of a bound asura. But she was half the thing¡¯s size, and while I¡¯d disabled one arm and she pinned another, it still had more than enough to work with.


    The yeti covered its face with one massive arm, then slammed a purple-clad punch into Aurora¡¯s side with another. I expected her to slow down, too. And for a moment, our thoughts were almost in sync again.


    Then the fire in her relic pulsed loudly, and she was back to struggling to keep the thing down, unburdened by the time-slowing spell as it shattered like glass.


    My heartfire! I thought desperately, recognizing the effect. I can push away the effects with my aetheric lifeforce!


    Realizing I didn¡¯t have much time, I stoked my heartbeat. I prodded at the central organ in my body, commanding it to beat faster. To beat harder. I felt an almost painful squeeze as the organ accepted, and then I pushed.


    To my own ears, it was as if thunder rumbled. My heartfire flared with one massive beat as energy rushed along my veins, fighting against the effects of this monster¡¯s aetheric spell. I felt my orange-purple lifeforce thrum across my body,, a reinvigorating feeling of warmth following in its wake. For a moment, I was afraid it hadn¡¯t worked. That I¡¯d be condemned to being a statue forever, watching the world around me move on at the top of a frozen mountain peak. I¡¯d be a testament to human hubris, attempting to scale the rock and left standing at the top, yet never able to go down.


    The aetheric spell holding me shattered into a million glittering purple particles, flashes of orange-magenta tearing it away as I roared. I felt a deep weariness threading through my muscles just from that single pulse of my heart, but I couldn¡¯t afford to stop now.


    The yeti pushed Aurora¡¯s relic off of it at last, tearing out a large handful of bronze feathers as it did so. It tossed her away, struggling and trying to get up.


    I snarled in fury as my shrouded saber cut off the hand holding the cudgel, searing through the limb like a hot knife through butter. I didn¡¯t relent, whirling as I threw Inversion at the creature. It embedded right over the creature¡¯s breast, blood splashing and steaming as it hit the ground.


    It roared in agony, but Lady Dawn¡¯s plasma-laden talons deprived it of the other hand that tried to swat at me. I sent her a quiet thanks as she pinned the last arm. The yeti kicked and roared, spittle and blood flying as it sensed its doom approaching.


    I hopped up onto its chest, then seized the handle of Inversion. My body felt sore and weak, my heartfire strained from that single pulse I¡¯d used to escape the aetheric time stop. But as I slowly drew the heartfire from the struggling monster¡¯s body through the stake in my hands, that fatigue washed away somewhat.


    The struggling of the beast slowed as I siphoned its lifeforce, the hateful snarl on its visage slackening as its soul was untethered from its vessel. When I was done, I felt like my body was fit to burst from the excess aetheric energy that was barely contained by my will.


    The yeti¡¯s eyes stared hollowly up at the howling sky above us, the blood and scorch marks splattering the clearing around us the largest indicator of our struggle. I slumped as I withdrew Inversion from the corpse, sending a silent thought of acknowledgment to the fallen enemy.


    Aurora wasn¡¯t so subtle. Her massive metal form¨Cwhich looked mostly unbothered by the whole ordeal, save a few scorch marks and a handful of feathers missing¨Cmoved over to me with a visible tension vibrating through the brass fittings of her relic.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said quickly. ¡°I could feel the effects of that spell over our bond. Are you well?¡±


    I smiled, giving my bond¡¯s metal head a grateful hug as I cherished the warmth she emitted. ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡­ I panicked there for a second, but the way your relic resisted the effect gave me the clue I needed.¡±


    She ruffled her metal feathers with the sound of sharpening knives, pulling her head back as she gazed down at the shriveled corpse beneath us. ¡°It was a worthy foe,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Though no match for you.¡±


    ¡°For us,¡± I corrected, walking with heavy feet toward the creature¡¯s severed hand. In its grip was a bundle of the relic¡¯s bronze feathers, each as long as my arm.


    Sevren can probably do something with these, I thought, noting how they retained a bit of the heartfire within. I¡¯ll see if he has any ideas.


    I stashed them in my dimension ring, then turned back to the corpse, feeling a strange bit of reverence for the fallen monster. I wondered how long it had stood vigil at the top of this plateau, waiting for a challenger to approach like a sentinel. The djinn likely gave it that singular purpose. For how many millennia had it waited?


    ¡°Aurora,¡± I said, feeling the biting chill of the wind on my back, ¡°What rites did the Asclepius clan give to fallen prey?¡±

 Chapter 168: At the Pinnacle

    Toren Daen


    My fires were not yet hot enough to match those of the Asclepius hunters. The yeti¡¯s shriveled body went up like dry tinder, but the stench of burning fat and deep black smoke arching into the sky told me of my shortcomings.


    One day, I¡¯d be able to make fires so hot that not even a smell remained. There would be no time for smoke, for the heat would eviscerate even that.


    The top of the mountain plateau was only slightly isolated from the blowing, chill winds by a few craggy outcroppings. The exit portal itself blazed with purple light near the far end, inviting me to leave.


    But right now, Aurora¡¯s massive relic kept me in its shade as the night slowly crept up, her bright eyes burning with solemn respect for our defeated foe. I was wearing a cloak to protect against the wind, meanwhile keeping close to the fire and my bond¡¯s warmth. I¡¯d taken a sizable amount of the yeti¡¯s fur, which was surprisingly soft and durable. Perhaps I could make a cloak out of that, next. Another way to honor it.


    Lady Dawn had explained to me the process Asclepius hunters undertook when they could not make use of an entire kill. They would burn what was left of their prey till there was less than ash, returning the creature to the environment in a final act of acknowledgment.


    I¡¯d drained this monster of lifeforce, adding it to my own reserves as its lifespan trickled away. Just as men consumed the flesh of beasts to sustain their lives, so too did I take from this defeated monster.


    But it was still a raw, primal way to kill a creature.


    I pressed the knuckles of my closed fist against my open hand as I bowed slightly to the fire. I said no words, for none would reach the beast¡¯s soul wherever it drifted after I¡¯d taken away its anchor.


    ¡°My use of heartfire is different from anything you¡¯ve seen, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked the empty air as the fire finally died down after half an hour or so. ¡°There¡¯s something visceral about the control I have over my own energy. That I don¡¯t think anybody, save perhaps Arthur, ever had. Or will have.¡±


    My ability to siphon an enemy¡¯s very heartfire from their chest still unnerved me. Perhaps my aetheric abilities were far more limited than Arthur¡¯s would be, but my control and use of them were different. Some part of me wanted to ask Fate why I had such a power.


    ¡°The power to coax one¡¯s lifeforce is purely an art of the phoenix,¡± Aurora rumbled above me, shifting her wings around me as the fire died to provide more warmth. ¡°The dragons and the djinn both leveraged their dominion over the world itself, but we turned inward to what was naturally present. But we never had true control, only barest nudges.¡± She paused. ¡°Truthfully, my son, I was not certain your First Sculpting would be such a success. Sculptings are normally long, painful endeavors that take many years to complete as we slowly rewrite cell after cell in a meticulous process that often results in failure or death. But I had been gifted the blood of the djinn myself, and though I knew not my capabilities, I knew I had to try.¡±


    I looked at the crackling embers as they finally dissipated, a bit of smoke stretching off the mountaintop plateau. I watched it ascend, lamenting the lack of stars in the sky.


    ¡°That just means we need to do everything we can with what we¡¯ve been afforded,¡± I breathed, my breath misting on the air. ¡°So far, I¡¯ve mostly used this power to heal and protect. But if I want to stand a chance against my enemies, I need to understand it more.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s beak nuzzled the top of my head affectionately. ¡°You have time to spread your wings, Toren,¡± she said soothingly. I felt a wave of exhaustion¨Cone I didn¡¯t even know I¡¯d been carrying¨Cmake my arms droop and my eyelids heavy.


    Sensing my bond¡¯s intentions, I withdrew a bedroll from my dimension ring, laying it down nearby across the smooth stone. As I prepared myself for sleep, looking up at the orange-purple mist of my bond¡¯s protective relic form as it seeped through the cracks, I spoke one last time.


    ¡°I think we should stay in this zone for a few days,¡± I murmured, closing my eyes and feeling my body wind down. ¡°Sevren wanted us to explore each zone thoroughly, and I¡¯ve needed time to practice with my abilities.¡±


    ¡°You speak wisely, my bond,¡± Aurora rumbled melodically overhead, a sturdy bulwark against the chill.


    ¡°And we should practice more with our teamwork,¡± I mumbled, feeling my consciousness slip. ¡°And give you more time to fly. To be free, before I have to go to that godforsaken summit.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s beak pulled my blanket further up my body as I finally drifted off. ¡°Thank you, Toren,¡± she whispered, so soft I almost couldn¡¯t hear. ¡°For helping me fly again.¡±


    ¡ª


    Several days passed in relative peace atop the peak. I made good use of my time, trying to piece together Circe Milview¡¯s three-point array, going on short expeditions to hunt the wildlife in this zone with my bond, and then noting down information about each creature or hazard we encountered. I took many pictures, savoring the naturally unnatural beauty this infinite stretch of mountains provided.


    I breathed in as I sat atop a rock, pulling my Phoenix Will a bit closer with the action. I was currently in my Acquire Phase as I continued with my mental assimilation, trying to allow the trickling knowledge to remain in my mind.


    Nearby, Aurora guided me as best she could. But while she could push me along mental pathways to access more power, she could not truly do the job of understanding the knowledge for me. It had become increasingly difficult to retain more and more insight as I grew more powerful. Though my growth had been exponential, I felt like I lacked some fundamental grounds in mana manipulation to progress further.


    ¡°It may be that your core must progress in purity to truly absorb any more substantial knowledge,¡± Aurora commented, ruffling her wings. ¡°The majority of the insight contained in my Will is bound by an asura¡¯s grasp of ambient mana. Once you reach the white core and can better perceive and utilize organic spellwork, the opportunities you grasp for will increase immensely.¡±


    I sighed irritably as I opened my eyes, allowing my Will to phase back into my core. While my exponential understanding of mana had been helped along both by Lady Dawn¡¯s instructions and the Will¡¯s subtle guidance, many of the concepts that I somehow instinctually understood while utilizing my Acquire Phase just did not compute with my regular abilities to wield mana.


    The white core increased a mage¡¯s ability to alter and control the mana within their spells after casting immensely, granting them a more precise hold over their intent that even allowed them to fly without any strain. It seemed a great deal of the further insight I had at my disposal would necessitate that understanding and ability to truly grasp.


    I¡¯d been able to grow exponentially due to my absorption and assimilation of insight. It was a shame that would slow down to nearly a trickle, now.


    ¡°Do not sound so upset, Toren,¡± Aurora chided at my dull mood. ¡°Your explosive growth was bound to stall at some point. Now is the time for consolidation rather than accumulation. Building ever-higher on unstable foundations can only lead to a broken home.¡±


    ¡°Wise words,¡± I teased lightly, looking out over the endless clouds before me, ¡°From the sage at the peak of the mountain path. Tell me, what other advice do you have?¡± I said, turning and raising a brow slightly. ¡°Should I abandon all worldly possessions too, seeking a road of enlightenment?¡±


    Aurora¡¯s relic form straightened imperiously, a wry flash of something in her burning sunlit eyes. Her voice took on a cadence I didn¡¯t recognize as she spoke. ¡°But of course. The path to enlightenment is something not for the faint of heart. One must be able to sit still as a breeze so that the pantheon grass would brush you by. So that not even a raptor squirrel might sense your intent.¡±


    I cocked my head. ¡°That sounded like a quote. And I¡¯m certain you¡¯re mocking someone with those words.¡±


    The relic puffed a breath of orange-purple steam. ¡°Clanlord Ademir Thyestes of the Pantheon race. He is a brilliant warrior, one of the few who could hope to match my own talents in battle, but a poor philosopher despite his attempts.¡±


    I raised a skeptical brow. ¡°You sound like you don¡¯t like him,¡± I prodded, surprised by the mild distaste I felt over our bond.


    ¡°Millennia ago, before his rise to Lord of the Thyestes and the fall of the Vritra from the Great Eight, he attempted to win my favor through an ancient martial tradition of the pantheons. He challenged a hundred asura, most from different clans over a hundred days, engaging in a battle at the first light of every dawn to prove his strength.¡±


    I raised a brow, chuckling at the story. ¡°And how, exactly, was that supposed to win your favor? I know for a fact you wouldn¡¯t fall in love over someone¡¯s martial strength.¡±


    ¡°Most only knew me as the warrior I was, Toren,¡± Aurora chided with amusement. ¡°Few asked me any questions beyond that knowledge. Though there was one who sought to truly know me; a titan who was a quarter of my age.¡± She shook her large, metallic head wistfully. ¡°But that is beside the point. A young Ademir issued challenge after challenge, facing every foe from one day to the next. Hamadryad, sylph, dragon, basilisk, leviathan, phoenix, pantheon¡­ None were exempt from the test of strength. And on and on he went, winning victory after victory. For a hundred days he issued his challenges, proudly announcing that he was fighting for my favor.¡±


    Aurora sounded genuinely impressed by that, despite her misgivings about Ademir personally. ¡°Well, did he actually succeed?¡± I prodded, feeling invested now.


    ¡°Patience, young chick, patience,¡± Aurora chided with amusement. ¡°Ademir was bold and brash among his clan. His strength was such that no others within his generation could hope to match him, and few beyond it, too. Under the old martial laws of his clan, he was likely to be the next leader, which he knew. And each of his subsequent victories only made him bolder and bolder as he climbed that peak. Until he saw fit to challenge one asura.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s words held me as if in a vice as she let the moment settle. I felt trepidation and anxiety building in my chest as I yearned for the full story, but I held my tongue.


    ¡°On the hundredth day of Ademir¡¯s crusade across Epheotus, he arrived in the old capital of his homeland, Battle¡¯s End in the Cerulean Savannah. And full of might, battle lust, and hot air, he echoed his challenge so all could hear. He called for Aldir Thyestes to face him in the fields.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I winced. ¡°That could not have gone well.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s shade chuckled. ¡°The lengths young men¨Cboth human and asura¨Cwill go to for the sake of wooing a woman are beyond belief, my son. I humbly implore you never to make such a stupid decision for the sake of some fair maid you decide to court.¡±


    Unbidden, my thoughts drifted to Seris and her stern, disapproving gaze as I tripped over my own feet from exhaustion as she forced me through bladework drills. I coughed into my fist, feeling slightly embarrassed. ¡°I like to think I¡¯m not that stupid,¡± I said, but from Aurora¡¯s piercing glare I knew she was suspicious. ¡°You were saying?¡±


    Aurora sighed. ¡°Needless to say, Ademir¡¯s supporters begged him to rescind his challenge. Aldir was¨Cis¨Cnearly older than the Great Eight themselves, as was forged by Kezess Indrath millennia ago. His blade was quenched with the blood of the final rebellious clans of asura in the wake of Lord Indrath¡¯s declaration of dominion. His fist was the one Kezess sent forth to crush any who made notes of rebellion. And above all, he bore the burden of the World Eater Technique. Needless to say, Ademir misstepped.


    ¡±


    ¡°But before he could withdraw his challenge¨Cfor rumor had it that he regretted his words the moment they were uttered¨CAldir accepted it with quiet dignity, honoring a tradition he was old enough to see created. And so, amidst a sea of spectators, Aldir and Ademir¨Cancient and young¨Cfought the hundredth battle. Aldir, to honor tradition. Ademir, ostensibly, to honor me.¡±


    I breathed out. ¡°Ademir lost, didn¡¯t he?¡± I asked.


    ¡°It was barely a fight,¡± Aurora acknowledged. ¡°I had not bothered to witness the previous battles¨Cfor I was not interested in Ademir as a mate¨Cbut Lord Aldir¡¯s power was something even my brother respected. So I attended myself, hoping to gleam a warrior¡¯s glimpse of the General¡¯s power.¡±


    I thought of my knowledge of The Beginning After the End in that moment. The fight between Aldir and the dragons Kezess Indrath sent to the slaughter could be described as little more than a butchery.


    ¡°With the application of Mirage Walk to such a high degree, the battle seemed like a blur to most,¡± Aurora commented with deep awe. ¡°Few among the spectators could track their movements, but I could. Ademir was a raging tempest; a typhoon with the spear as he dueled the greatest warrior his clan had ever produced. And in turn, Aldir was as graceful as a whip eel, his rapier sharp and deadly as he wove amidst the storm. His steps were as light as if he were in a summer breeze rather than a howling current of pure force-type mana arts.¡±


    ¡°When the dust settled, Aldir¡¯s rapier had pierced Ademir¡¯s sternum, the tip barely poised above the arrogant pantheon¡¯s core. The battle was over, the young upstart defeated on his final challenge with contemptuous ease.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to bet he did not take his loss well,¡± I said slowly, thinking of all the arrogant nobles I¡¯d met.


    Aurora¡¯s relic shook its head, surprising me. ¡°I was shocked myself. In the wake of his victory, Aldir instructed the young pantheon on how he could master his temper and improve his mind. While that boldness always stayed with him, in the wake of his defeat, Ademir was humbled and learned what it took to be a true leader of his clan. But it is hard to dismiss the irritants that followed in the wake of his attempted courtship.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°Oh? And how many asura did try and court you, my dear bond?¡± I prodded, more than a little teasing in my tone as I sensed the deep annoyance her words carried.


    ¡°I was the sister of Mordain Asclepius, leader of the Asclepius clan. I was the greatest master of my clan¡¯s fighting styles in an age, my unique plasma arts setting me above and beyond nearly every other warrior I knew. Truth be told, Toren, the only bachelorette more politically enticing was Sylvia Indrath, and she was already betrothed to Agrona Vritra.¡±


    Which made it all the more astounding that it was a djinn who finally captured her heart, I thought. Andravhor must have been a wonderful man.


    ¡°He was,¡± my bond said wistfully, reading my thoughts. ¡°He had a fire not unlike my own, but he had tempered it. He saw a beauty in everything that was infectious. I learned to love the small details in my life. Like this wonderful, expansive sky we see before us.¡±


    We sat there for a few more minutes, quietly appreciating the clouds beneath us. But I couldn¡¯t stay here forever.


    I pushed myself to my feet, cracking my back as I finally pulled my eyes away from the view. I noted my attempts to mimic Circe¡¯s spell along the ground, patches of blood in a dozen three-point-arrays lining the earth.


    After much practice and a bit of coaxing from Aurora, I¡¯d managed to mimic the primary effects of Circe¡¯s spell: namely, creating a mana beacon by creating a positive feedback loop between three anchor points. Unfortunately, even though I¡¯d managed to get blood to work as the medium for the anchor points, I wasn¡¯t able to thread heartfire through the mana in a way that made it speed up and flare as Circe¡¯s had. Whenever I tried, the excess energy just dissipated, unwilling to maintain a form when separated from my body.


    But I¡¯m on the right track, I thought, as I gradually packed up my sparse belongings. I need to piece together how lifeforce and mana interact before I move further on this path.


    I turned to my bond. ¡°Hey, Aurora?¡± I said, a bit of reluctance in my tone. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta get going through these zones. Lay down the anchor points and all.¡±


    ¡°I understand, my bond,¡± Aurora said, melancholy notes in her melodic whir of a voice. ¡°Detach the threads as you see fit.¡±


    Feeling the note of acceptance across our bond, I reached my hands up to the thick tether tying the phoenix feather in my core to the relic across from me. I grasped the threads, then began to reclaim my heartfire through the cord.


    Gradually, Aurora¡¯s relic shrank as the light left its eyes. It folded in on itself in impossible geometries as it shone like molten metal, gradually returning to that single, feathered bronze brooch.


    ¡°It is well that we have mapped this zone,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice whispered across my ear. ¡±I would enjoy another flight through the air.¡±


    I smiled at the idea, silently agreeing with my bond. Then I stepped through the portal.


    ¡ª


    We went through a few more zones as we laid down the stakes, but I didn¡¯t stop and rest in these as I did the mountaintop. Aurora and I worked together to rip through the challenges with ruthless efficiency, laying down anchor stakes, making notes, and taking pictures all the while.


    And so when I finally stepped back into the Town Zone¨Cusing the tether sphere for it given to me by Sevren¨CI was ready for a deep soak in a bath and a long, long nap.


    I flicked my hand free of the bit of wet grime that had stuck to my palm. The last zone had been a trudge through an annoying marshland-esque environment where I had to watch my use of fire magic for fear of a gas explosion. That also meant I couldn¡¯t burn away all the refuse clinging to my body.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think the Relictombs adapt to my dislikes as well as strength,¡± I muttered under my breath, feeling disjointed from being so dirty. Cleanliness was important. It helped separate me from the things I fought.


    Before I could say anything else, however, I spotted Sevren Denoir as he strode toward me, a slight wrinkle to his nose as he spotted the mess that my once-pristine clothes had become. ¡°I was going to ask you how your ascents went,¡± he said, ¡°but I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going anywhere near you until you clean up. No offense.¡±


    ¡°None taken,¡± I groaned. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to talk to me, either.¡± S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a long and thorough shower, I was laid back in one of the houses that hadn¡¯t yet been torn apart by Sevren¡¯s machinery and testing equipment. I sank into the leather couch as I laid across it length-wise, feeling my muscles relax as I was finally afforded some safety.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Caera at?¡± I asked absently as I removed my spoils from the ascent and placed them on the table near Sevren. My notepad, the recording device that held the myriad photos of the zones, and a few items I¡¯d picked up from the aether beasts I thought he might like. ¡°She went with you on all your ascents, no?¡±


    Sevren deflated slightly, noting the items I¡¯d left. ¡°She has a life to manage,¡± he said, a bit of his voice closing off. ¡°Lenora needs her back to play her part.¡±


    I looked up, sensing something more in my friend¡¯s words as I uncrossed my legs, shifting so I was sitting normally. ¡°And your mother¡­ doesn¡¯t need you to play your part?¡±


    Sevren waved a dismissive hand. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± he lied. ¡°Just tell me what you¡¯ve found in the Tombs. My sister and I went through three zones in total, but it looks like you carved your way through four.¡±


    I smiled. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to maintain such a speed without the assistance of my bond in her large relic form. Personally, we¡¯d cleared the zones at a rate that would make any ascender proud.


    ¡°Well, most of these are small trinkets I took off enemies that displayed some level of aetheric power,¡± I said, pointing at a claw that had¨Cwhen it was still connected to a large bear-like aether beast¨Cglowed purple and shredded my telekinetic shroud with contemptuous ease. I gestured to another one: a small crystal that flashed intermittently with violet light. ¡°I can¡¯t truly sense all aether, but the creatures in an underground zone¨Cwhich lacked light entirely¨Cused these crystals to navigate, and I¡¯m more than certain it emits some sort of aetheric pulse.¡±


    Sevren nodded a few times as he inspected each item, before picking up the crystal. I felt a fluctuation of mana as he activated his regalia, Scouring Purpose, no doubt checking to see if there was aether involved.


    ¡°Okay,¡± the Denoir heir said. ¡°And you said most of these you pried from dead bodies?¡±


    I nodded. Lifeforce dissipated from a body once it died, so I couldn¡¯t sense any aetheric aftereffects on these items. But that didn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t exist. The High Sovereign¡¯s imbuers had made immense strides in understanding the djinn¡¯s magic through clever workarounds, and I had no doubt Sevren was on a level with each of them¨Cmaybe even beyond them.


    I blinked, remembering another few items I had stored in my dimension ring. ¡°Oh,¡± I said, withdrawing them from my spatial storage. They were remarkably light as they settled into my hands, certainly no more weighty than steel despite their absurd strength. The bronze feathers the yeti monster had torn from my bond¡¯s relic gleamed under the low light, a bare thrum of remaining lifeforce in their structure. ¡°The relic was damaged a bit in use. The damage regenerated, but I was left with this metal. It stores heartfire in a way that is hard to find.¡±


    The only other medium I¡¯d seen comparable was blood.


    Where Sevren had eyed each item before with mild interest, his eyes sharpened as he took the arm-length feathers from me, his enhanced strength allowing him to hold them with his single hand. He looked at them almost reverently. ¡°You have no idea how much I could do with these,¡± he said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. ¡°A true container for aether¨Cdo you have any idea how difficult that is to find? Even with my new spellform? The dispersal rates across most materials are¡­¡± Sevren shook his head, seeing my blank expression. ¡°Never mind,¡± he said, stowing the feathers in his dimension ring. ¡°What are you going to do next, Toren?¡±


    I ran a hand through my hair, allowing the familiar sensation to ground me. I¡¯d spent about a week and a half on these ascents, but time was relative in the Relictombs. I had an upcoming meeting.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to a summit to discuss the war,¡± I said quietly, my hands clasped tightly in front of me. ¡°And I can¡¯t exactly avoid it.¡±


    Sevren was the only person¨Cbesides Naereni¨Cwho I¡¯d told the true story of my confrontation with Varadoth. He knew I was being ordered to go to war and who had ordered it.


    ¡°Do you need to go to war?¡± the Denoir heir asked, looking at me inquisitively. His question wasn¡¯t judgemental, just genuinely curious. ¡°In the Relictombs, you have a safe place to avoid the gaze of Agrona. And¡­¡± he hesitated. ¡°I know you use the same mana techniques as the Dicathians. If worst came to worst, you could likely hide yourself amongst them quite effectively.¡±


    I looked up. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, Sevren,¡± I sighed. The Denoir heir had few connections beyond me and his sister, so he didn¡¯t see the same picture I did. ¡°There are people close to me who would suffer were I to so blatantly disobey.¡±


    If I disobeyed the High Sovereign so openly, trying to hide away in Dicathen? What would happen to Fiachra? To Naereni and Wade, the sole remaining members of the Rats? Hell, what would happen to Sevren? Agrona wasn¡¯t afraid to use the people close to me as leverage. As he showed. I gritted my teeth, struggling to restrain a pulse of intent at the thought of Greahd. His message had been received loud and clear, but not in the way he intended. ¡°And these chains along my arm are not for show, Sevren,¡± I whispered solemnly. I looked up, meeting his serious eyes. ¡°There¡¯s someone I need to kill.¡±

 Chapter 169: At the High Sovereigns Call

    Toren Daen


    I stood behind both Seris and Cylrit, my mind jumping with anxiety and my palms already sweaty. I had to restrain the urge to tap my foot as I waited impatiently for the tempus warp to be fully prepared.


    Today was the day of the war summit. And as I stood in the depths of Scythe Seris¡¯ estate about to be portalled toward the High Sovereign¡¯s personal fortress, I couldn¡¯t help but have second thoughts.


    Aurora¡¯s retreated from our bond, I thought, clenching my hands behind my back. Our tether is as cold and dark as it was the day Agrona saw me the first time. He shouldn¡¯t be able to sense her.


    I wore my standard crimson vest, dark gray leggings and boots contrasting the bright shirt I wore underneath. The sigil of Named Blood Daen stood out proudly on my chest, the blazing symbol quiet and steady, contrasting the beat of my own heart. I¡¯d pulled my hair into a half-up, half-down style, the strawberry blonde locks neat and groomed for the occasion.


    Cylrit looked the same as ever, his matte-black armor polished and clean as his white cape streamed behind him. His eyes faced forward, not sparing anything unnecessary attention. If he were seen by anyone else, I was sure they¡¯d think him some sort of perfect sculpture. A statue made manifest.


    Seris, however, had changed her own standard attire slightly. Her long, pearlescent hair draped loosely to her mid back like raindrops sliding down a pane of glass. She wore speckled lipstick that added flecks of bright purple to her lips, and deep eyeshadow made her dark eyes seem even darker. She wore a black battledress as always, but it seemed more sleek today. It bore fewer frills and accentuating lines across her form. She wore her fur mantle like armor, the dark material clinging to her neck.


    The Scythe seemed dressed for war.


    ¡°It is an endless pit, is it not?¡± her silken voice suddenly said, breaking the tenuous line of my thoughts. ¡°The anxiety before facing a coming battle.¡±


    My back straightened as I exhaled a shudder. ¡°I am afraid,¡± I admitted, my mind flashing back to the deep darkness of the Central Cathedral. ¡°I worry that if I step into Taegrin Caelum, I will not walk out.¡±


    Seris¡¯ focus remained straight ahead on the anvil-shaped tempus warp. ¡°Your fear is good, Lord Daen,¡± she said succinctly. ¡°Never forget the fear you bear for the High Sovereign. It might not keep you alive, but it will keep you aware. You also cannot dismiss the attention you shall receive upon entering this summit.¡±


    I swallowed heavily. I was going to meet the forerunners of Alacryan society. The Scythes were the pinnacle of power in this world, second only to the asura themselves. I also couldn¡¯t forget the Retainers that would be there, carrying the will of their Scythes.


    I tried to remember Aurora¡¯s teachings. This wouldn¡¯t just be a war summit. It would be entrenched in politics. ¡°Who¨Cwhat¨Cdo I have to watch out for?¡± I asked, steeling myself. I¡¯d caused waves in Alacrya, especially as the Doctrination slowly crumbled in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion and Varadoth¡¯s execution. I had no doubt the Scythes would want to poke and prod at me.


    ¡°A good question, Lord Daen,¡± Seris acknowledged. ¡°You will be a new face amidst the crowd. An anomaly many will seek to entice for their own reasons.¡± She paused. ¡°Be wary of Scythe Melzri and Retainer Uto above all others. You rather soundly defeated Retainer Mawar, Melzri¡¯s protege ¡®daughter.¡¯ That will attract negative attention. And while Scythe Dragoth presents himself as affable and boisterous, his Retainer is crass and brutal. Uto is a mouthpiece for Dragoth¡¯s darker thoughts.¡± Seris met my eyes from over her shoulder. ¡°Above all else, do not rise to provocation. No matter the words uttered.¡±


    I forcefully stilled myself, controlling my breathing and heartbeat. ¡°Thank you for your advice.¡±


    In the absence of Aurora¡¯s warm touch, my mind felt a brittle coldness. Yet Seris¡¯ words gave me something to focus on; to ground me and give me direction in this upcoming summit. She was calm, collected, and knew precisely what she was doing. It helped center me in a way I did not expect.


    ¡°We are bound together in this,¡± Seris said nonchalantly, turning back to the tempus warp. ¡°I will not allow you to be wrenched about by this continent¡¯s politics.¡±


    I felt a wry smirk tug at the edge of my mouth. ¡°Only you get to wrench me around with politics, right?¡± I joked.


    Seris did not turn back to me as a purple portal fizzed into existence before us. ¡°You learn quickly,¡± she said, a rare note of amusement in her voice. ¡°You are my piece alone to move across the board.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t tell how much of her statement was made in jest and which wasn¡¯t¨Cand that nearly served to send me back into spiraling anxiety as I remembered the danger of the woman in front of me as well.


    Knives on all sides, I thought darkly. Step too far in any direction, and blood will be drawn by an unseen edge.


    As Seris stepped through the portal, Cylrit and I followed suit.


    We emerged into a massive courtyard. Immediately, I felt a slight chill blow in from the air, the massive crags of the Basilisk Fang Mountains cutting the air around us like the inhaling maw of a great beast. I knew what the mountains looked like on a map¨Cand here, I felt that I was a gnat resting on the teeth of some continental god.


    The open-air platform we arrived on had fanciful designs and intricate artwork of dark shadows and mana beasts etched into the stones. All around us, a garden filled with eerily pale flowers¨Ceach seeming to watch me like an eye¨Cgreeted any newcomers.


    But a shadow was cast long and dark over the entire area. Before me, the large, dark walls of Taegrin Caelum blotted out the sun, casting an aura that chilled me even further. The jagged crenelations and sneering faces of gargoyles added to the ever-present sensation that I was being watched.


    Without another word, Seris strode forward with the grace of water itself, gliding along the tiles beneath her feet. Cylrit followed not a beat later, his armored boots clanking on the stone. And finally, I picked up the rear, my neck turning so far I felt it would snap from how I tried to see everything at once.


    ¡°Keep your gaze forward, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit ordered coolly. ¡°Do not present yourself as you are. You will bring disgrace to my master.¡±


    Seris did not deny her Retainer¡¯s words.


    I settled myself, forcing my eyes to remain locked on the massive doors ahead as my core rumbled with trepidation. A few attendants in deep, dark robes bowed as Seris approached.


    ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± they intoned, lowering in perfect synchronization. ¡°You are awaited in the Grand Audience Chamber.¡±


    ¡°Open the doors,¡± Seris ordered without a hint of inflection, barely acknowledging the servants.


    The robed men¨CI couldn¡¯t sense their cores, though their heartfire was deep and murky¨Csimply nodded. As if on cue, the massive blood iron gates swung open like the jaws of a looming serpent. Inside, a hallway lined with lighting artifacts greeted us, not another soul in sight.


    I tried to keep track of my surroundings as Seris led us dutifully through the maze that was Taegrin Caelum, but every turn seemed to lead to another hundred passageways that delved further into the mountains. I couldn¡¯t help but feel that every step we took led me further down a dark ravine, one I would never escape. The light dwindled behind me as I trekked further into the monster¡¯s den.


    Our walk was silent as a grave as we finally reached a set of doors. My feel for mana and heartfire had been disjointed and uncertain all throughout the fortress, the different warding devices and cloaking implements messing with my senses. Thus, I was surprised when I felt the many powerful mana signatures beyond the door, each hitting me like a bludgeon.


    I instinctively tensed as the Scythe of Sehz-Clar waved a hand forward, the doors parting like a sea.


    A large room opened before us, shaped like an oblong semi-circle. Lighting artifacts bore hovering orbs of luminescence that illuminated the tall ceiling. A table of some sort of dark wood stretched down the middle of the room, clearly designed for meetings and planning.


    Along the edges of the room, several couches and auxiliary chairs provided places to lounge and relax. I noticed several painted maps of Alacrya, Dicathen, and what I suspected was Epheotus along the black stone walls. Windows showed the far sky beyond, putting into perspective the true majesty of the fortress we resided in. Mounted all about in various places were what I suspected were war trophies. Scales of asuran creatures, potentially draconic in nature. The sunken head of a many-eyed being that I suspected was a pantheon. And a pearl that I couldn¡¯t recognize.


    And a headdress of phoenix feathers that made my blood boil.


    But while I absorbed the state of the room with my subconscious mind, what truly demanded my attention were the people inside. I knew most from description alone, and further having seen illustrations and pictures of each in my research for this meeting. Yet their power¨Ccondensed and contained¨Cstill sent shivers up my spine.


    Mardeth was a fool, part of me thought as I robotically followed Seris and Cylrit into the room, To think he had a chance at godhood. Not when the Scythes stood in his way.


    I focused on the two points of interest first, remembering Seris¡¯ earlier warning. My eyes tracked of their own accord to one side of the table, following one of the large sources of mana.


    Scythe Melzri¡¯s long white hair was lighter than I expected, and her skin was somehow even paler than that. Her twin sets of horns stood out starkly against her light attire, her less-than-conservative dress accented with dark stylized spikes. The Scythe was toying with her bone-white braid, wrapping it around her finger over and over. Mawar¨Cthe Retainer I¡¯d both fought and traveled with¨Cstood mutely behind her Scythe, wreathed in a darkness that almost seemed solid.


    The Scythe of Etril was chatting animatedly about something with Scythe Viessa Vritra, who gave what could only be a fake smile as she nodded along, her deep purple locks swaying. I could just make out the stick-like figure of who I assumed to be Retainer Jagrette behind her, but a booming, boisterous voice cut through my observations.


    ¡°Ah, Seris has arrived!¡± a burly, barrel-chested behemoth of a man announced from where he lounged on a couch, practically taking up the entire thing with his size. His booming voice resonated in my very bones. ¡°Welcome back to the home of the Sovereigns,¡± he said with a grin splitting his face in two, presenting a welcoming air.


    From the ox-like horns protruding from the top of his bald head and his scruffy mane of a black beard, I knew the man to be Scythe Dragoth. But amidst all of the swirling hurricanes of power, I was able to deduce one thing from the intent.


    Dragoth¡¯s words had drawn both Viessa and Melzri¡¯s attention to the door, focusing their gazes on Seris as she strode through. Yet while I could sense a surprising measure of Melzri¡¯s surface-level emotions as she projected them into the mana¨Ccuriosity, annoyance, and a hint of something more¨Cthe brute of a Scythe didn¡¯t show a hint of his thoughts as he lounged on the couch, the entire thing nearly buckling from his weight.


    Not a brute, I thought, forcing my eyes away from Dragoth as I thought of The Beginning After the End. That¡¯s a ruse. He¡¯s far, far more dangerous than he lets others believe. He plays the affable, dull-witted act well. But he¡¯s as much a thing of politics as the others, if not more.


    ¡°She¡¯s finally here,¡± a grating voice echoed near Dragoth. A tall, hooded form radiated contained strength as they called out with a hint of a sneer. Their gray features leered at Seris with something twisted in their eyes, making something burn in my chest. ¡°And she brought a special guest, too. Another pretty man,¡± Uto, Retainer of Vechor, said with a grating chuckle. ¡°I wonder why she has two now!¡±


    I tensed as the attention of half a dozen of the most powerful mages on the continent settled on me, but I¡¯d decided to take my cues from Cylrit. He seemed entirely unphased by the attention we¡¯d drawn as we slowly walked toward the table, his gait steady and even despite the pressure.


    ¡°Cylrit,¡± Seris said coolly, loud enough for most to hear. ¡°Engage with Uto. You both are to lead the advance forces soon, and it would be wise for you two to be more acquainted.¡± She gave him a meaningful glance.


    Cylrit bowed stiffly. ¡°As you command, Scythe Seris.¡±


    He turned, marching off toward where Dragoth and Uto were lounging. I noted Uto¡¯s expression fall into irritation just as Cylrit blocked us from his view¨Clikely on purpose. But when I met Dragoth¡¯s glinting eyes, a terribly knowing smile still on his muscled features, I had to turn myself away.


    And, predictably, Melzri began to saunter toward us, her hips swaying in a way that had to be intentional. Mawar followed mutely in tow. Melzri¡¯s attention was on Seris as she approached, though I caught Mawar¡¯s nervous glance in my direction.


    ¡°Sister,¡± Melzri said, her eyes narrowing into happy slits as she smiled. She carelessly tossed her long braid back over her shoulder, letting it stretch to the ground like a hangman¡¯s noose. ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d get here. You so rarely leave your little Dominion.¡±


    Seris¡¯ expression didn¡¯t change, though she oriented slightly on the other Scythe. ¡°Melzri,¡± she said in curt greeting. ¡°I have had much to occupy my time as of late, though none of us can refuse a call from the High Sovereign.¡±


    Melzri¡¯s lips turned into something that was nearly a pout. ¡°You should get out more, sister. All that lurking and scheming will make you age another century in no time.¡± She raised a hand, about to say something else, and then her eyes flicked to me. ¡°Speaking of the things that have been occupying your time¡­¡±


    I was momentarily caught in her aura, feeling like a rat stuck in a barrel of water as it bore down on me. But with a flex of my strength as I edged closer to my Acquire Phase, I was able to shrug off the worst of it. I felt my eyes flash as I rebuffed the intent.


    ¡°Sister,¡± Melzri said, ¡°This pet of yours is Spellsong, isn¡¯t he?¡± She narrowed her eyes hostilely at me, her mana redoubling. ¡°This is a family meeting. Only our Father¡¯s children should be here. Why is a nobody like him allowed in?¡±


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    Seris¡¯ gaze sharpened as I ground my teeth, holding mutely against the intent. I felt my lungs creak against my ribcage, the air itself oppressive. Behind the Scythe of Etril, Mawar shifted uncomfortably.


    Don¡¯t rise to provocation, I thought. Do not give them the opportunity to strike you.


    But the next words Seris uttered seemed to take the light from the room. ¡°Lord Agrona ordered me personally to bring Lord Toren Daen. He might not be a Retainer or Scythe, but he will nonetheless be present both for the war and this summit. Do well to remember such.¡± Her face twisted slightly. ¡°And he is no pet.¡±


    I felt the attention of the other Scythes as they peered at me, their curiosity clearly peaked by Seris¡¯ words. Melzri¡¯s intent simmered away as she looked at me, a tilt to her head that made her look almost childlike. ¡°Well, if Father says so,¡± the pale-haired Scythe said, her earlier fury evaporating as if it were never there. I sensed as her discontent was swiftly replaced with piercing curiosity, like the flip of a light switch. So fast.


    I restrained my surprise at how easy it was for me to pick apart Scythe Melzri¡¯s emotions. Seris kept herself contained and concealed. Viessa¡¯s intent was murky and indistinct, like swamp water or a dark night. Dragoth simmered silently himself.


    But Melzri? I could read her emotions like a book.


    Melzri tapped a long, delicate finger against her chin. ¡°Though there is something I do want to know, Spellsong.¡±


    I nodded my head, finally allowed the chance to speak. ¡°What would you like to know, Scythe Melzri?¡± I said, the first words I¡¯d uttered since entering this room. If I could manage it, I¡¯d rather not say more than I had to.


    ¡°So you do speak!¡± Melzri said, clasping her hands together as she leaned forward slightly. ¡°And such good manners for a pet, too.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, feeling a rising twofold anger as both my Phoenix Will and emotions threatened to break loose at the Vritra-blooded woman¡¯s mocking words. Seris, too, looked more than irritated at the other Scythe¡¯s address. Melzri, however, didn¡¯t seem to care.


    ¡°I wanted to kill that Vicar of Plague for a long, long time,¡± she said slowly, annunciating each word. I felt chills run down my spine as her playful attitude dropped, something deeply cruel taking its place. A blackness spread through her intent that made me think of Mardeth¡¯s darkness. ¡°He insulted me publicly, you see. And then he hurt my daughter after that. But you killed him first. The Plaguefire Incursion ended when you battled Mardeth, slaying him in single combat.¡±


    Melzri¡¯s eyes widened, showing pinprick black pupils that sharpened as they bored into mine. I nearly stepped back at the intensity of the look, something hungry churning beneath the surface of her deceptively attractive features. Seris seemed ready to intervene, a crease to her brow that I recognized as a slash of worry.


    ¡°How did you kill him?¡± Melzri finally asked, restraining a grin from splitting her face as her pinpoint attention focused on me. One could almost hear a pin drop inside the room. ¡°How did Mardeth of the Doctrination die? Tell me,¡± she demanded.


    I fell into my memory, recalling Mardeth¡¯s broken terror as I nailed him to the effigies of his gods as I¡¯d promised so long ago. His raw fear as I slowly, slowly drained him of his lifeforce, and the utter despair as he gazed into Aurora¡¯s eyes.


    I felt my lips twitch into something approaching a sneer. I already did not like Melzri. Something about her childish attitude and flagrant mania set me on edge, like I was waiting for a bomb to go off. Her emotions darted about like a fly, uncertain and following no distinct rhythm. But I hated Mardeth infinitely more, even in death. ¡°I drove a stake through his heart and watched the life drain from his wretched body,¡± I said shortly, disdain in my tone. ¡°He begged for his gods in the end. They did not come to save him.¡±


    Melzri¡¯s eyes fluttered closed as she sighed contentedly, straightening. ¡°I imagined what it would have been like,¡± she said, biting her lower lip slightly. ¡°Watching him grovel for what he did. I wish I was there to see it happen.¡±


    Then the Scythe paused, her eyes blowing wide as her mouth opened slightly. ¡°Wait, that music of yours!¡± she said, clapping her hands together excitedly. ¡°You could show me, right? You could put on a show, right? One that lets me feel what it was like for Mardeth to die? That would be wonderful!¡±


    The Scythe looked at me with eyes a bit too wide and a grin a bit too feral. I worked my jaw, fishing for the right thing to say. At my side, Seris had been pulled into conversation with Viessa, but the slightest eye contact told me she was ready to intervene if necessary.


    ¡°That¡¯s not quite how my music works,¡± I said slowly. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to feel what it was like for Mardeth himself to die. But you might get an inkling of what I felt, watching him wither away.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes slightly, scrutinizing the Scythe in front of me as she started fidgeting with her braid again. She had a slight frown on her face as she absorbed my words, shifting to look at Mawar behind her.


    ¡°That would be good, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Melzri said, looking at her Retainer. I could feel the strangely tinted compassion and worry radiating over her intent as she looked at the nervous Retainer, who averted her red eyes from the attention. The Etrillian Scythe turned back to me. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it would be good for my daughter?¡±


    I actually considered that for a moment, remembering the bitter defeat Mawar had experienced at Mardeth¡¯s hands. Maybe if she got some form of closure¡­


    I opened my mouth to respond, but then I sensed something foreign and alien as it brushed near my mind. I felt the presence of a dark, caustic power as it sought to invade my thoughts, scratching against the insides of my skull.


    I snarled, forgetting Seris¡¯ warnings in that split instant. I heard a voice begin to scrape across my thoughts, putrid and vile.


    ¡°Oh, what an adorable little¨C¡±


    My Phoenix Will surged faster than I could, enveloping itself around the invading presence. The fury it unleashed upon that bare touch was tenfold what it would have otherwise been, pent-up fury and anger radiating from its humiliation under Agrona¡¯s vast hands. The presence was in my mind for only a split second, but in that time it ripped and tore and burned and sundered.


    A horrible, wretched scream echoed out like nails on a chalkboard. The cry split the air, a palpable flux of mana radiating from a ways away.


    I spun on my heels as my fists clenched, plasma sputtering along the edges of my knuckles as I struggled to contain my fury. I tracked the source of the presence as I fell into my Acquire Phase, flashing back to when Agrona¡¯s tendrils had chafed against my innermost thoughts. To the violation of it all, where every secret was nearly rent from my deepest sanctum.


    A spindly woman in a doll-like mask keeled over near the table, screaming in agony. Bright orange fires guttered from the eye-slits in her mask, the scent of smoke reaching my nose as she writhed on the ground. I felt my Phoenix Will screech in triumph as Jagrette, Retainer of Truacia, crumpled like a worm.


    Melzri watched the jigsaw of a woman collapse with a surprised expression, something curious stretching across her features. Mawar backed away uncertainly, while Seris shot me a look I couldn¡¯t decipher. Far away, I heard Dragoth chuckle at something Cylrit said, ignoring the event entirely.


    ¡°It burns! It burns!¡± Jagrette whined, her mana flaring as she struggled to pull herself up on limbs that were too thin to be healthy. I could hear the sizzling of her burning eyeballs as I glared at her, my blood hot in my veins. ¡°I¡¯ll cut out your heart and feed it to you slowly! How¡­. How¡­ Aaaagh!¡±


    ¡°Spellsong would crush you like a fly, dear Jagrette,¡± a voice as smooth as silk said. ¡°You should know not to dig your sticky fingers where they don¡¯t belong. His strength is not as pathetic as yours, Retainer.¡±


    The way Viessa Vritra said the word Retainer made it sound like an insult rather than one of the most prestigious positions in Alacrya. The Scythe strode forward, her teal and white robes contrasting the utter darkness in her eyes. Her deep purple hair held shadows all on its own as her masked intent radiated out. Jade earrings flashed as she moved rhythmically, each step like the flow of a serpent¡¯s tail. The Scythe smiled softly as our eyes met, her intricate makeup accentuating the smooth features of her face. Several shrunken vertebrae hung from her belt, each in a different shade of color.


    Seris placed herself in front of me, seeming to have put together what happened. ¡°Explain yourself, Viessa,¡± she said sharply, her eyes piercing as her hurricane of mana flared. ¡°An attack on those under my protection is tantamount to an attack on myself.¡± Melzri¡¯s eyes widened almost comically as they darted between the two other Scythes, her mouth forming into a little ¡®o¡¯ of dismay.


    ¡°I apologize for my Retainer¡¯s intrusion upon your guest¡¯s mind,¡± Viessa said, her tone not nearly as apologetic as it should have been. Almost mechanical. ¡°She has a tendency to pull against her leash far too much. I¡¯ll see to it she is properly disciplined.¡±


    At Viessa¡¯s boots, Jagrette whimpered as her eyes finally burned away, the sizzling diminishing as my Phoenix Will¡¯s job was done.


    ¡°Your apology is far from enough,¡± I said, glaring daggers at the Scythe in front of me. ¡°If Retainer Jagrette touches my mind again, my blade will rip out her throat and I will bathe in her lifeforce as I tear it from her wretched corpse,¡± I snarled, fire flickering between my fingers. Seris¡¯ mana flared darkly at my words in silent support.


    Viessa¡¯s eyes¨Calmost entrancing in an eerie, disturbing way¨Cfocused on me with just as much intensity as Melzri¡¯s had a moment before. But where Melzri¡¯s attention had been manic and chaotically centered, Viessa had the gaze of a waiting predator.


    ¡°Intriguing you should mention a touch on the mind, Toren Daen,¡± Viessa said, her lips curling coyly, ¡°Considering your paltry musical effects.¡±


    My fury tipped sideways into uncertainty at the Scythe¡¯s words.


    ¡°Your Retainer breached the deepest rules within this fortress,¡± Seris countered, crossing her hands over her stomach as she cut across Viessa¡¯s pretty smile. ¡°An attack on the mind before a sanctioned meeting is grounds for the deepest punishment. Lord Daen would be well within his right to execute Retainer Jagrette on the spot.¡±


    As the two women¡¯s power flared, I felt my bones creak from the proximity. I backed away slightly, the bolstering warmth of my Acquire Phase barely keeping me on my feet.


    Then Viessa¡¯s intent dwindled and vanished. She slowly nodded her head. ¡°You make a fine point, Seris,¡± she said. ¡°Jagrette shall be punished. Liberally. If Toren Daen so wishes, he may choose the method himself. If he really wants, Jagrette would happily offer her throat up to him to slit for her transgressions.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s smile was soft and far too practiced to be real as her eyes bored into my soul; testing and waiting for my response.


    I looked down at the Retainer, who¡¯d been flattened under her own Scythe¡¯s intent. She appeared to be near losing consciousness. The eyeholes of her mask bled smoke upward, the stench of burnt flesh scraping against my nose.


    Part of me wanted to hurt her. I let myself travel down darker possibilities as the remembered trauma of the last time my mind had been invaded resurfaced. I wanted to demand that her mask be taken so that all would see the wretched features beneath. I wanted to slowly tear away her soultether for daring to intrude upon my sanctum. Bleed her like I had Mardeth.


    But as my mind cooled, I realized something.


    Jagrette was a Retainer. She acted under the orders and direction of her Scythe: nothing more; nothing less.


    I exhaled, forcibly settling the fire in my blood. ¡°Keep her locked away until the war,¡± I said. Arthur would kill this woman in the Battle of Slore, and while I was looking to make changes to this world, I still needed some certainties I could rely on. ¡°As long as she¡¯s away from people she can hurt.¡±


    Viessa smiled. ¡°So soft,¡± she said with amusement. ¡°I would have had her fingers severed, her hair shorn, and her mana core pierced. Those would all be fitting punishments, after all. Because none understand the true value of a mind until they delve into it. And you know that, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I frowned, feeling off-kilter. But Viessa continued. ¡°So many secrets and fears lurk under the surface. Some simple. Most not. I always find it most interesting to piece together the complex, arching fears. Those that stemmed from long, buried traumas. Once you do so, one realizes that minds are like putty, Toren Daen, meant to be picked apart and put back together.¡± Then her smile slowly fell, the new expression dripping with something approaching contempt. The Scythe of Truacia ran a hand across her belt, caressing the macabre vertebrae that she¡¯d accumulated. ¡°I understood each of these fallen better than you ever could, Toren Daen. No music or song could show you their hearts as my magic did.¡±


    ¡°You claim such,¡± Seris retorted, cool as ice, ¡°But have you heard the music of Lord Daen? You might find yourself surprised. Even with your condition, it might give you something to contemplate.¡±


    Viessa matched gazes with Seris once more at the barbed words. Distantly, I was aware that Seris had intentionally struck a nerve. ¡°I do not need to hear such pathetic noise,¡± her smile¨Can artificially pretty expression¨Creturning as she gathered herself. ¡°I know the truth already.¡±


    She turned, walking away from us and grabbing Jagrette by the collar of her dress. ¡°You will have what you demand, Toren Daen. I hope you find enjoyment in her suffering.¡± S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I watched Viessa drag Jagrette¡¯s limp body toward the far end of the table, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of my face. I hadn¡¯t noticed it in the moment, but my breathing was slightly uneven. My legs trembled lightly before I forced more mana into them. Gradually, my Acquire Phase receded from the forefront of my mind.


    ¡°That was unfortunate,¡± Melzri sighed. ¡°I was hoping for a grander punishment. Sister would have allowed me to watch, too.¡± She walked back toward Viessa with a saunter in her hips, Mawar trailing mutely behind her. It appeared our earlier talks of Mardeth and music had entirely left her mind.


    Distantly, I worried for the Retainer of Etril. While I wouldn¡¯t call us friends, she had helped me infiltrate Mardeth¡¯s base along the Redwater. Without her, Sevren would be dead.


    Seris watched them go, before turning to me and sternly looking me up and down. ¡°It appears I have underestimated the lengths some will go to to aggravate you, Lord Daen.¡±


    It was an interesting attempt at a veiled apology, but my shoulders simply slumped. ¡°I expected barbed words and caustic glares. Not a Scythe to use her Retainer as a disposable pawn.¡±


    Seris sighed. ¡°You are quick to learn. Viessa, among all the Scythes, is adept at touching the minds of others. She has¡­ taken an interest in you that I did not foresee.¡± Seris paused, her eyes darkening as a chill overtook our little spot of the room. ¡°I suspect she sent Jagrette forward to probe you for vulnerability to such arts. Though why the Truacian took such dangerous measures, I cannot yet say.¡±


    I thought of the Retainer¡¯s burning eyes once more. She had made a deep mistake in trying to intrude on my mental space. My Phoenix Will had been roaring to vent its frustration on another Vritra-blood after Agrona¡¯s humiliation, and it had found what was practically an unguarded target. Jagrette might have fared a bit better had she attempted to challenge me physically, but within the depths of my mind?


    I opened my mouth to reply, but a thundering heartbeat that rattled my bones caused my head to turn. It came in periodic bursts, blocking out all other sounds as it emanated from a distance I couldn¡¯t discern.


    Like Varadoth, I thought, feeling my teeth rattle and my heart threaten to stop. Probably stronger.


    Where Varadoth¡¯s heartbeat was loud and rumbling, it had a steady quality to it even as it seemed to shake the foundations of the ballroom what felt like months ago. But this one¡­ this one was contempt itself, crafted into pulses that made my bones tremble in resonance. The pulses felt like the snap of a taskmaster¡¯s whip, punishing all those who listened. All those who didn¡¯t acknowledge its grandeur.


    My head turned toward the door to the meeting room. Noting my attention, Seris shifted her gaze as well, a furrow to her brow.


    Not long after the heartbeat, I felt the mana change. It felt like a knife against my throat; a constricting vice simultaneously trying to pull my organs from my body. I broke out into a cold sweat as it neared the door, every hair on my arms standing on end.


    Cadell Vritra, personal enforcer of Agrona Vritra, stepped into the chamber. The room seemed to collectively hold their breath as he strode in apathetically, his plate boots clanking with each step. His long, white hair stretched to his back like a curtain of bone. His red cape moved with a flow I couldn¡¯t discern as he made his entrance.


    No matter their station, no matter their individual power, all quieted as Cadell entered. His horns framed a face that should¡¯ve looked human, even with the gray skin.


    But I could only say it was inhuman. So, so very inhuman. And with every heartbeat of contempt, he seemed to pull himself above us. Beyond us. His very intent deemed us lessers.


    Eyes the color of clotted blood swept across the room. I felt a measure of relief as they passed me over, dismissing me outright. For a stuttering heartbeat, I felt grateful for my relative weakness.


    Barring the asura themselves, I thought with clenched teeth, This is the strongest mage in the entire world.


    But while all present focused intently on Cadell and his overwhelming strength, my eyes were forcefully drawn to the smaller figure just behind the seven-foot Scythe. Despite the overwhelming heartbeat and pulse of undeniable strength, it was not enough to demand my attention.


    For that barest instant, I thought my gaze must have been as focused as Seris¡¯. It might have been just as manic as Melzri¡¯s, or possibly as predatorily hungry as Viessa. For a moment, the world narrowed onto a sole figure.


    Nico Sever loped behind the Scythe, a glare plastered on his face and a pulsing heartfire that could only come from a reincarnate.

 Chapter 170: Already Won

    Seris Vritra


    Toren¡¯s head turned sharply toward the doors, a clench to his jaw that told me he sensed something coming. I quieted, focusing on my mana senses as I followed suit.


    Not long after, I sensed his mana. Cadell Vritra, the closest thing to a right hand Agrona allowed, flared his oppressive aura as he approached the doors. None could yet see him, but already every conversation and word within the meeting hall died away, snuffed out by the apathetic power thrumming through the air.


    There is still a gulf as wide as the sea between us, I thought with a flash of irritation, though I showed none of it on my face. Even as I grow in power, I cannot see the depths of Cadell¡¯s own.


    For the first time in what felt like an age, I¡¯d begun to grow in strength once more. Varadoth¡¯s horns were rich with mana, each absorbed bit of energy bolstering my mana channels and pushing the purity of my core even further. Though they were ill-won, I could not relinquish the chance to heighten my strength.


    As Varadoth had fought against his own High Sovereign, I¡¯d been forced to recognize the gap between us. I¡¯d been confident in my ability to match the head of the church, but I had been woefully wrong. The insight I absorbed from his remaining horns only pushed my thoughts deeper into contemplation and worry.


    The doors finally opened, revealing the imposing figure of Agrona¡¯s foremost Scythe. His impassive scarlet eyes roved over the occupants, quietly dismissing them all as he strode over to a corner of the room, the shadows swallowing him like a tight-fitting glove.


    Behind him, Nico walked in his usual way. The Scythe-to-be always stomped with an angry tension to his shoulders and gait, stalking forward as if every brick under his foot had personally wronged him and he were squishing them like insects. While most of the other Scythes openly displayed their contempt as Nico walked in, I kept my thoughts hidden.


    I turned my head slightly, watching as Nico walked toward the table.


    And that allowed me to see Toren¡¯s expression.


    As both the mask of Renea Shorn and my true self, I¡¯d slowly learned what each of the movements on Toren Daen¡¯s face meant. He was expressive in an almost offputting way. One shouldn¡¯t show so much of themselves in this world. Such openness was always punished by those who saw an opportunity and knew how to exploit power, but regardless of this, he wore his heart on his sleeve.


    But right now, Toren¡¯s face was as cold as stone. There was no upturn of his lips or wrinkle in his brow. I saw no tilt in his head or flare of his nose.


    It was as if he were a statue, his sole, unerring focus boring into Nico as he plodded to the table. Lord Daen focused on the newest Scythe with an intensity that could wear away stone.


    Then Toren noticed my inspection of him. His brow raised in a way that told me he was surprised, while the slight quirk of his lips spoke of mild embarrassment. And caution.


    What interests you about Nico Sever, Toren Daen? I asked myself as Cylrit returned to my side. None of the other Scythes demanded your attention so. And to ignore Cadell¨Cthe greatest of the Scythes¨Cin favor of the one most dismiss?


    Another mystery. I inadvertently felt a twinge of excitement as I was offered more questions, none of which yet had answers.


    But that excitement died as every Scythe¨Csave Cadell¨Cmoved toward the table. Nico stood to one side, Melzri on the other. Viessa faced Dragoth, each waiting quietly. Their Retainers all stood at attention behind them, save Jagrette whose body lay limp on a couch nearby.


    It was understood among us all that the entrance of the Scythe of the Central Dominion heralded the arrival of someone even greater.


    The anxiety among us rose as we all waited, subtle tension barely masked. For all that each Scythe was a master of the political game with the masks to match, there were some that were beyond our games. Beyond our abilities.


    Toren, once again, was the first to notice. He wheezed audibly, clutching his chest with a rigid hand as he nearly fell forward. He grimaced, his eyes blowing wide as he hissed through his teeth. Blood dripped from his nose, splashing onto the dark table beneath him. The other Scythes present shot him glares and condescending sneers, but they were fools to do so.


    Without anyone else realizing it, Agrona had appeared at the head of the table. The Lord of the Vritra picked at something in his perfect nails, lounging with disinterest. His massive, branching horns split the light like cracks in a painting¨Cas if the weave of reality peeled away to reveal the horrid canvas beneath.


    I slowly bowed, covertly pressing a hand against Toren¡¯s back and forcing him to bend slightly. The other Scythes seemed to belatedly realize their god stood before them, each following suit with their Retainers.


    Toren¡¯s wide eyes stared at the dark table, sweat dripping from his forehead to the hardwood as he breathed in a disjointed rhythm. The blood from his nose dripped onto the table, one crimson tear at a time. In the utter silence that loomed, all I could hear were the quiet splashes of the young man¡¯s blood as it seeped into the wood.


    And on his face was a mask of contained fury, kept barely in check as it warred with his fear. The blood streaming across his face gave him an almost maddened cast. Blood began to seep along the rims of his eyes like tears.


    What do you sense from him, Lord Daen? I thought nervously. Just like in the Central Cathedral, you feel his presence before we do, but not as we do. And that presence hurts you somehow.


    My hand remained near the small of Toren¡¯s back as I kept him steady, none of us daring to yet look up. The tinkling of the chains along Agrona¡¯s horns rang throughout the room as he presumably turned his head to look at us all.


    Contain your fury, Toren,


    I thought hastily, my hand clenching around the young man¡¯s back. He can sense it. Don¡¯t let him see it. Hide your thoughts. Your emotions. Your everything. Please.


    Toren shuddered, closing his eyes. Sweat beaded along my brow, and blood leaked from the edges of his eyes like crimson dewdrops.


    And finally, his mask of fury bled away, drawn inward as he covered himself in an illusion of calm. The man, always so honest, finally found a way to lie to the world when faced with such darkness.


    That was the first lesson one needed to learn when facing the Sovereign of Sovereigns. To always keep your mind closed.


    ¡°You all think you¡¯re here to discuss how Alacrya will win this war,¡± Agrona said, his smooth voice sounding as if it was just beside my ear. ¡°But you¡¯re not. Though I suppose I can understand your lesser thought processes.¡±


    I raised my head slowly, feeling slightly uncertain. Agrona was resting his legs on the table, leaning back in his chair to the point that part of me was certain he would topple over. He seemed mildly amused by Jagrette¡¯s condition, sparing the unconscious Retainer only a raised eyebrow.


    He wasn¡¯t looking at Toren. Hadn¡¯t noticed his slip, or wasn¡¯t paying it any mind.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the focus for today. This war was won before it even started. What we need to do today, my dear Scythes, is create a strategy to stop the Dicathians from breaking too easily.¡± He smiled toothily. ¡°They¡¯re fragile things. I need the Dicathians alive for my own goals, and if you are too vigorous, their entire society will collapse like the brittle house of cards they are. That would leave me less than happy.¡±


    There was a bit of silence as we all digested the words Agrona uttered, each of us deeply conscious of what would happen to us were we to disappoint our god. After a moment, the High Sovereign leaned back a bit further in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.


    His balance was perfect on that chair. A bare bit more, and he would topple back, but the ruler of Alacrya seemed to inherently sense exactly how far he could afford to tilt before it all came crashing down.


    ¡°There are two active fronts to this war as we speak,¡± the Lord of the Vritra continued into the silence. ¡°My dwarven subjects will allow a strike force through Darv, while a more concentrated attack is being levied from the Beast Glades. Now, we all know who will be participating. The true question is, who will be stationed where?¡± His eyes roamed over all of us, a faux curiosity radiating there.


    I planned to offer my position on the Darvish front. I could act more covertly there, laying the seeds I needed. But I couldn¡¯t speak first, or else I¡¯d appear too eager.


    After a short minute, Dragoth spoke, his deep bass voice rumbling out. ¡°My Retainer would do well in Darv,¡± he said amicably. ¡°That¡¯s where the most battles will be, after all. Someone from Vechor would be best suited for such a location.¡±


    Agrona tilted his head, his gaze focusing on Uto. The Retainer in question looked away, his crass nature for once wilting under absolute strength. ¡°An unintelligent gnat like him? That¡¯s foolish, Dragoth,¡± the High Sovereign said matter-of-factly, a flash of his aura squeezing around Uto like a vice for a split instant. ¡°Think before you speak next time, lest your tongue get away from you.¡±


    Uto wheezed, trembling from the brush of power. Dragoth deflated ever-so-slightly. ¡°I will.¡±


    I saw the opportunity presented immediately. Dragoth and I had clashed more times than I could count, the outcome of the war between Vechor and Sehz-Clar still sour in the minds of many within his Dominion. I could mask my true intentions by playing my interjection off as an attempt to snub the Scythe of Vechor.


    ¡°High Sovereign,¡± I said, standing straighter. Agrona despised weakness, but looked down upon lesser arrogance just as much. There was a balance I needed to maintain. Straight, but not rigid. Subservient, yet not weak. Just like the chair he lounged on. ¡°I would offer my position within Darv.¡±


    Agrona¡¯s eyes pierced mine. Those blood-red pupils seemed to hold the weight of a thousand whispered secrets behind them, each clawing at the edges of my mind. Though he exerted no aura, I still felt my mind tremble.


    I averted my gaze slightly. ¡°And why, dear Seris, should I allow this after what you did to Varadoth? He was one of my favorites, and while I applaud your exit¨Cit was marvelous, really¨Cyou overstepped sharply.¡± His scarlet eyes flicked to Toren, then back to me.


    I swallowed imperceptibly as I felt the inherent threat. Varadoth had been slain by Agrona himself. So why did he pretend otherwise?


    I racked my brain for an answer, searching and cataloging everything I could. Was it some sort of true political ploy? Or did he say the words on a whim, as he was wont to do? But while my mind whirled, I spoke further.


    ¡°Varadoth overstepped himself,¡± I hedged, bowing my head slightly. Beside me, Cylrit shuffled uncomfortably, while Toren was white as a sheet, memories in his blood-shot eyes. The streaks of red running down his face reminded me of that horrid day. ¡°In allowing his underling Mardeth to run so rampant across the continent. Upon issuing his challenge to Lord Daen, I had no choice but to intervene.¡±


    Silence. Sweat beaded along my skin as Agrona pretended to consider my response. Time ticked by painfully as the Lord of the Vritra let his chair lean forward a bit more.


    And finally, Agrona nodded slightly. ¡°You make a fair argument, Seris. Spellsong is quite the interesting specimen you¡¯ve acquired, and Varadoth did threaten to take him away,¡± he said, speaking as if Toren weren¡¯t presently suffering from his presence at all. He waved a perfect gray hand dismissively. ¡°Why should you head the contingent of Darv?¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Toren¡¯s hands flexed near the table. I felt the urge to grab them and forcibly relax his tensed muscles. The focus of nearly everyone in the room settled on Lord Daen, and from the flex in his jaw, I knew he was deeply uncomfortable from the attention. The blood streaming from his eyes and nose began to slow slightly. Melzri appeared curious, tilting her head as she processed our High Sovereign¡¯s words as she traced the blood. Dragoth¡¯s smile fell slightly as he inspected Lord Daen. While Viessa looked¡­ almost angry. Something dark shadowed her already deep features.


    Agrona has made Toren appear far more important, I thought as I opened my mouth. He pretends to dismiss the man, but he¡¯s all but announcing to the others that Lord Daen is worth more than Varadoth. Earlier, I played the same card¨Cbut my words hold lesser weight than Agrona¡¯s. The true question though, is why?


    I needed to take the attention of the room back.


    ¡°I am experienced in covert warfare,¡± I said, projecting my voice slightly as I stood up straighter. ¡°If we wish to keep the Darvish alliance secret, a subtle touch is required that Retainer Uto lacks. He is known for his crass and brutal nature, something that would only serve to alienate our dwarven allies.¡± sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At my words, Uto leered at me from across the table, while Dragoth merely rolled his eyes, crossing his massive arms in irritation that may or may not have been feigned.


    Agrona kept his attention focused on me. Focused through me. For the millionth time, I felt fear. Fear that his barest look would rip apart my mind like a scientist poking at an experiment.


    He certainly knew this. The High Sovereign did everything with purpose: that was never the question. The true question was what each purpose entailed.


    ¡°I can always count on you to use your head, Seris,¡± Agrona complimented lightly, though it did not feel like praise. He waited for a scance few moments, his eyes boring into me. ¡°You shall lead the conquest of Darv. Don¡¯t disappoint me now.¡±


    I bowed, once again subtly forcing Toren to bend as well with a forceful touch near the small of his back. He was stiffer than a board. ¡°I am honored by your trust, Lord Agrona.¡±


    Agrona clapped once as he swung his legs off the table, leaning forward. ¡°Well, that leaves the Beast Glades under the direction of Retainer Uto,¡± he said. ¡°Any objections?¡± he added, knowing there would be none.


    While earlier Agrona had offered us a chance to vouch for our placement in the war, he had absolutely decided the placements before this meeting even began. As I¡¯d said before, I was experienced in covert and subtle tactics, making my placement in Darv most logical. While Uto was brutal and arrogant, his twisted hand forcing our troops through the gruesome dungeons in the Beast Glades¨Cwhich he¡¯d done once before, and thus had experience¨Cwould be an effective motivator for success.


    One could run through hell if an even deeper fire was at their backs.


    I knew Agrona expected me to offer my input from the start. The true question was why he had that expectation. But I could not afford to second-guess myself.


    ¡°Well, now that that¡¯s done,¡± the High Sovereign said, standing up, ¡°Feel free to talk amongst yourselves. Try and think of the best ways to win this war, my dear Scythes.¡± His eyes simmered with something deeply knowing as they bored into my soul, a shiver running down my spine. ¡°I cannot wait to see what will come of all you do.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± a boy¡¯s voice ground out angrily. ¡°What about Grey?¡±


    Agrona¡¯s head cocked, the chains along his horns tinkling. ¡°What about him, Nico?¡± he asked, sounding genuinely curious.


    I turned slightly to the Scythe-to-be at my side, noticing the rictus grimace that roiled under the surface of Nico¡¯s face.


    ¡°You promised me a chance to fight him during this war,¡± he snarled. ¡°But I need to know when.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re weak as you are, Nico,¡± Agrona countered smoothly. He didn¡¯t say it like an insult, more a statement of absolute fact. There was no judgment in the High Sovereign¡¯s rich tone, only core truth that scraped and burned. ¡°You¡¯ll keep training with Scythe Melzri and Viessa until you¡¯re ready. Arthur Leywin can wait until then.¡±


    Nico gnashed his teeth, his dark bangs shadowing his eyes. ¡°So I¡¯m just¡­ what? Going to rot in this castle for however long?¡±


    Agrona¡¯s face took on a disappointed cast, like a father whose son had done something foolish at an academy. ¡°Nico, you aren¡¯t rotting. This is the most impact you¡¯ve ever had¨Cor will ever have¨Cin your lesser lives. I promised you a new life with your fiance, of course, but this still a special time. I¡¯d think one with so little time would want to cherish it,¡± he chastised.


    Seeming appropriately rebuked, Nico looked at the table, embarrassed fury in his face. The other Scythes covertly sneered and reveled in the shame he outwardly felt.


    ¡°Now, if we¡¯re done with pointless interruptions,¡± Agrona said, ¡°I have important things to do. Discuss amongst yourselves how this war will go.¡±


    His knowing scarlet orbs swept across the room, seeming to grow larger as they inspected us in turn. I closed my eyes, forced to look away from my god¡¯s gaze. Beside me, Toren exhaled a shuddering breath.


    The room was silent as a cemetery for a time, but I knew I was just a bit safer when I heard Toren¡¯s stilted breathing begin to even out.


    I opened my eyes.


    Agrona was gone, not a mote of energy or presence in the air denoting his passage. Everyone present exhaled a collective breath, nervous darting of eyes searching for shadows in the dark.


    As she realized her ¡®Father¡¯ had left, Melzri¡¯s attention gradually simmered away as her short attention span took hold. Viessa Vritra¡¯s locks of purple hair shadowed her face, hiding her expression from my inquisitive eyes.


    By my side, Toren finally composed himself. A flex of his fire mana burned away the blood streaks on his face. Cylrit stood a bit straighter at my back, finally feeling reassured now that Agrona had left.


    And far in the shadows, Cadell watched everything like a looming, silent reaper. His shadow stretched over all of us.


    Even if Agrona were not present in person, his Hand was always touching the board.


    ¡°Foolish little Nico,¡± Dragoth finally said, his normal grin gone. ¡°You push too far. One day you¡¯ll see that when Agrona tires of you as a shintcat tires of its toys. Even being allowed to end the traitor within the Dicathian¡¯s flying castle was beyond your true station.¡±


    Nico snarled, rising to the Scythe of Vechor¡¯s bait. ¡°As if a brute like you could ever understand what I am,¡± he hissed. ¡°You don¡¯t know what I contributed to your war.¡±


    That was a mistake, reincarnate, I thought. You have shown yourself to be irritated. They will pounce like hyenas.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Viessa said, her voice piercing and snide. ¡°Do tell, Nico. We all want to hear what grand contribution you offered to earn the station of Scythe.¡± She picked at her nails.


    A vein in Nico¡¯s neck pulsed. ¡°I was the one who helped Agrona understand the wreck of the Dicatheous. Without my knowledge of the other world, he wouldn¡¯t know anything of its workings.¡±


    Viessa chuckled, masking her sneering smile behind her lips. ¡°The High Sovereign allowed you to think your intellect meant something. Like a child explaining how a spellform works to their god. Nothing your petty world offers means anything to Agrona, little Nico. His fixation with you will fade once the shine has worn off.¡±


    Nico¡¯s back went rigid as a stake, black fire flickering along his palms as his mana radiated out. ¡°And what do you know of my previous world? You can¡¯t hope to¨C¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    A palpable aura¨Cdeep, apathetic, and cold¨Cradiated from the corner of the room. The shadows unfurled around Cadell Vritra as he flexed his strength. Nico¡¯s flames sputtered out weakly under the glare of the other Scythe, Viessa sinking into her seat at the wave of power. ¡°You squabble like lessers despite your station. Our High Sovereign ordered you all to speak of war plans, and you have yet to obey.¡±


    A silence like a cold fog enveloped the table as Cadell¡¯s rebuke smashed through the petty argument.


    Nico huffed, marching away from the table and throwing himself onto the same couch Dragoth had once occupied as he separated from the oncoming chaos. Jagrette¡¯s body lay unconscious not far from him.


    ¡°Sehz-Clar will contribute the bulk of medical supplies to our troops,¡± I started, speaking for the first time in a while. Now was the true time to make a difference. ¡°The distribution of which must be discussed amongst our captains,¡± I said, my eyes briefly drifting to Dragoth¡¯s.


    Uto sneered behind the Scythe of Vechor, his bravado slowly returning as Agrona vacated the room. ¡°Medical supplies?¡± he mocked. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll allow any wounded, Scythe Seris?¡± he said with a grating rasp. ¡°Give me that Spellsong of yours. Let me use him instead. He can heal and heal and heal whatever wounded we have endlessly. I promise I¡¯ll take good care of him for you,¡± he said, a smile that stretched nearly from ear to ear splitting his face.


    Toren tensed behind me once more, his mana thrumming at a perceived threat. I felt my ire rise as he was threatened in turn.


    ¡°Scythe Dragoth,¡± I said, ignoring the crass Uto despite the fire his words wrought in my gut, ¡°Your Retainer seems fond of wagging his tongue. He lets it run about in twisting circles in places it does not belong: and now, he has thrust it right in the path of my waiting blade. Show him the folly of his actions before I do. I will not give you this mercy twice.¡±


    Dragoth¡¯s face morphed into a scowl at my words. ¡°It¡¯s just a bit of fun, Seris. You need to loosen up,¡± he said. ¡°And he makes a good point, you know. That lesser has a healing regalia, doesn¡¯t he? Why not let Uto have command of your pet?¡±


    Measure yourself, Seris, I forcefully thought. He wishes to draw a reaction from you.


    ¡°Lord Daen slew Mardeth of the Doctrination for his brutal actions,¡± I said simply, turning up my chin. ¡°I question whether you wish for this war to run smoothly at all, or if you desire division in our ranks.¡±


    Dragoth chuckled lightly, his burly form rumbling with the sound of a bass drum. ¡°Fine, fine. Uto?¡± Uto shriveled slightly. ¡°Get out of my sight,¡± he said with deep finality.


    Uto sneered as he bowed. ¡°As you wish, my great overlord,¡± he mocked, slithering toward the door¡¯s exit. He sent me one last perverse look, his gaze attempting to peel back my dress, before he slinked from the hall.


    Part one is a success, I thought, taking in the new state of the room With Uto gone, it will be easier to plan. No more of his blunt interjections.


    There was a silence in the wake of that door closing. Melzri had propped her elbow up on the table, her cheek resting in her palm as she sleepily watched everything transpire. But Viessa observed me with eerie quiet, having remained characteristically silent throughout the entire exchange. ¡°Speaking of the war, we do not know what Spellsong will be doing to contribute.¡± She gave Toren a coy, almost playful look that made a buried part of me nervous. ¡°Where does he stand with you, Seris?¡± she asked, something sly creeping under her voice like rot.


    I had hoped to avoid this situation, but Agrona¡¯s words during the meeting had heightened the apparent worth of Toren severalfold. Yet he was not a Retainer; merely an untethered Named Blood under my employ. His allegiance and loyalty, in the eyes of the other Scythes, was fluid and ductile. If they prodded at the right points, could they not draw him to their side through threat or coercion?


    Furthermore, the fact that I had two supporters at my back when I¡¯d just deprived Dragoth of his¨Cand Toren had effectively crippled Viessa¡¯s Retainer for a time¨Cleft my little power block under the greatest scrutiny in this microcosm of politics.


    And you can¡¯t let them know how many of your masks he has pulled away, a quiet, quiet voice whispered in the deepest depths of my mind. He is a weakness. Don¡¯t let them use him.


    Within my mind, I immediately began to concoct a plan to divert the expectations and suspicions of my fellow Scythes. I would not allow Lord Daen to be a weakness they could exploit, and the rest of the plan should be simple if I encouraged Melzri correctly.


    What I did next would be a patchwork move. It wouldn¡¯t hold back the questions or demands, but it would give me more freedom in this council today.


    I must apologize to you later, Toren, I thought, ready to even the playing field again.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± I said, maintaining eye contact with Viessa, ¡°You are excused from this room for the time being.¡±


    I could feel Toren hesitating behind me. I remembered the promise I had made to the man; that I would inform him of every time I moved him across the political board. Of why and how.


    I may have worn the mask of Renea Shorn as I¡¯d said the words, but I¡¯d meant them all the same. And now, I broke that promise.


    ¡°As you command, Scythe Seris,¡± Toren finally said, his voice even. He walked toward the door, his hands clasped behind his back.


    Viessa watched Toren go with a raised brow, a hint of surprise on her face. I could only hope it was not feigned and that my ploy was successful.


    The Scythes could not be allowed to know how close Toren Daen had grown to my inner circle. I would not allow him to be used as a weakness. Could not allow them to focus on East Fiachra and Sevren Denoir by proxy, lest they look too deep and uncover secrets best left buried.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Toren¡¯s soulful orange gaze as it brushed past my face. I remained impassive as I saw the discontent within, flaring with that honest warmth of his. The door closed behind him with a heavy thump like the sound of a coffin¡¯s lid closing shut.


    ¡°Lord Daen does not know the plans I have for him,¡± I said to Viessa¡¯s questioning gaze in the wake of that thunder. And that was true: he didn¡¯t. But he would eventually. ¡°And neither shall you. Regardless, the conversation we have now will be between only us Scythes. Only our closest circles can know these discussions. Is this fair?¡±


    My eyes darted appraisingly to Melzri, who had gone back to sleepily fiddling with her long braid. ¡°Yeah, I suppose,¡± she agreed. ¡°Mawar, you can go talk with Toren. It¡¯ll be good, I think.¡±


    The young Vritra-blooded woman blinked, then nodded sharply at her Scythe¡¯s words. ¡°As you wish, Mother,¡± she said quietly, the shadows around her warping before she started back toward the exit.


    I shared a glance with Cylrit as he, too, prepared to leave. Keep an eye on Toren, I tried to convey silently. Serpents lurk.


    ¡°Let us discuss this war, shall we?¡± I said as my loyal Retainer nodded. It was easier than usual to force a smile on my face.

 Chapter 171: A Coincidental Gift

    Toren Daen


    The large blood iron doors rumbled shut behind me. As they finally closed, all the burgeoning thoughts and emotions and fears I¡¯d been containing throughout that meeting threatened to break free.


    I closed my eyes, then took a deep breath. Aurora may not have been here to help center my thoughts, but I needed to manage them anyway.


    Agrona¡¯s nauseating presence was gone. Though I was still within the jaws of the beast¨Cwhile within Taegrin Caelum, I would never truly be safe¨Cthe High Sovereign¡¯s discordant heartfire didn¡¯t rattle my bones and disrupt my equilibrium anymore.


    My mind jumped through all the events of the meeting room, settling deeply on Nico Sever. He pressed a near-constant aura of discontent and malice into his intent, each pulse showing me exactly what he felt.


    And he was powerful. Perhaps the other Scythes dwarfed him in strength, thus exemplifying their distaste for him and his position amongst them. Compared to the others, he was weak.


    But strength was relative.


    As I¡¯d stared at Nico, sensing the depths of his power, I¡¯d realized something. At that moment, if I threw everything away¨Cmy reservations on life, my body, core, and mind¨CI might be able to defeat the newest Scythe. If I let everything burn in an inferno, there was a chance. Right then and there, I could stop the reincarnation of the Legacy.


    I could almost imagine it. Were my blade to free Nico¡¯s head from his shoulders, the initial goal I¡¯d set for myself would be completed. The original bindings for my contract with Lady Dawn would see itself complete.


    But I¡¯d sobered quickly. No longer was my only goal killing Nico. I wanted to change this world for the better with what strength I could manage. And if I threw everything I had at this Scythe, I would out myself fully and utterly as an enemy of Agrona and his system. And with Cadell by his side while I stepped in the very heart of the serpent¡¯s den, there would be no possibility for me to even strike him down.


    So I watched, and I waited.


    The hallway outside the meeting room was lined with paintings, each depicting scenes of war. Unlike Seris¡¯ office in the Bloodstone Elixirs¡¯ headquarters, these artistic renditions didn¡¯t show the brutality of battle.


    No, they showed glory. Glimmering armor and resplendent horns adorned the bodies of the fighters in frame. Black fires, deep shadows, and caustic mists highlighted each of their victorious positions. Sometimes it was over many enemies. Sometimes it was over a single one.


    But each and every painting depicted a victor and a loser.


    My eyes settled on the two paintings closest to the meeting room. In one, a Vritra-blooded man in thick, leather armor the color of midnight scales hefted a war axe that dripped with blood. His horns stretched forward from his head like those of a ram, long black hair accentuating his snarling visage. He radiated pride and power as dark fire flowed from every orifice, another mage broken beneath his boot. The loser¡¯s horns were chipped and shattered, their face a mask of despair.


    The inscription read, Scythe Kelagon of Vechor defeats his predecessor, Scythe Neghal, in single combat.


    I pulled my eyes away from the menacing red eyes in the painting, bloodlust and battle frenzy portrayed perfectly on the still canvas. The next image sent a chill through my bones.


    I recognized Seris¡¯ features in the painting. Her sharp, attractive face with hair of liquid pearl. The same horns stretched from her forehead like an impala¡¯s, but the demented sneer plastered on her face and condescending cast to her onyx eyes sent shivers down my spine. Black blood sprayed across her elegant face, tainting it with darkness. Her arms were bare in this one, too, revealing a network of serpentine tattoos that vanished beneath dark robes at her shoulders.


    Beneath the heel of her boot, it was now Scythe Kelagon who lay broken. Or rather, his decapitated head, his mouth yawning in a silent scream. The eyes weren¡¯t bloodlusted here. Just terribly empty as they gazed into my soul.


    Scythe Seris of Sehz-Clar defeats Scythe Kelagon in single combat, ending the Redfeud War.


    Seris had told me of this battle, long ago over tea. Though I had not known it at the time, Seris had recounted her own victory over Scythe Kelagon of Vechor.


    ¡°Each of these paintings depicts decisive battles won by Scythes,¡± a quiet voice said from behind me. ¡°All in chronological order. From the start of the Sovereigns¡¯ dominion over our continent to the present, all are accounted for. It is a great honor to be depicted in the Hall of Victories.¡±


    Yet as I looked at the endless paintings, I didn¡¯t see honor. I saw a grim reminder of the cycles of manufactured war that pervaded Alacryan history. One game after another, perpetrated by the Sovereigns in an endless repetition. I looked into the painting of Seris, trying to see any sort of familiar emotion in those eyes. I couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Do you think the Dicathian war will be included in these paintings?¡± I asked, turning to look at Retainer Mawar. ¡°It¡¯s all the Scythes¡¯ victories, but they¡¯re also all the victories in Alacrya.¡±


    Mawar¡¯s brow creased, the young girl seeming thoughtful. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ll have to ask Mother. Er, Melzri,¡± she corrected, looking. slightly abashed.


    I smiled slightly, but didn¡¯t add anything. I could sense the Retainer¨Cwhom I¡¯d both battled and fought beside¨Cwanted to say something.


    ¡°Was that really how Mardeth died?¡± she finally asked. ¡°A stake through the heart?¡±


    ¡°It was,¡± I replied. Then I hesitated. I knew Mawar had borne a personal grudge with Mardeth that simmered deep and low. ¡°How have you fared recently? After our last meeting, you weren¡¯t so¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Mawar said a bit too quickly. ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just¡­ I heard about what Mardeth did to your home. I didn¡¯t get to kill him, but I¡¯m glad you did. I wouldn¡¯t have ever managed it,¡± she added in a slightly small voice.


    What happened, I wondered, looking at the girl in front of me, To turn this quiet, timid girl into the ruthless killing machine shown in The Beginning After the End?


    ¡°His actions still affect us all,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°We¡¯re still dealing with the wounds he left in Fiachra. And will be for decades.¡±


    Mawar huffed slightly. ¡°Melzri¡¯s been pointing me toward all the temples in Etril. That¡¯s been helpful; dismantling each one I come across. But it¡¯s not the same.¡± Her face took on a more abashed expression. ¡°I, uh, didn¡¯t tell her about our fight in Nirmala. Or that you were the leader of that expedition along the Redwater toward Mardeth¡¯s base. After your friend lost his arm, I realized how my interference¨Cand Melzri¡¯s interference¨Cwould ruin your chance at killing Mardeth, so I didn¡¯t say anything. But at first, it was because I didn¡¯t want to admit that¡­ That¡­¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said softly, allowing the sputtering Retainer to break off. She¡¯d grown more timid in the time I¡¯d seen her. ¡°I was wondering why Scythe Melzri didn¡¯t want to carve my face off in that meeting. You probably saved me from a very uncomfortable confrontation,¡± I joked.


    Mawar¡¯s face split into a reassured smile, a bit of the girl I¡¯d seen in the forests peeking through. Mardeth''s wounds would last for a long, long time, but they would scar over.


    The echoing sound of the blood iron meeting room doors closing shook me from my thoughts. Cylrit strode toward us, a stern, overbearing expression dominating his face.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± he said curtly. ¡°I have been instructed to keep you from trouble.¡± His eyes bored into Mawar, who wilted under the stare. ¡°Taegrin Caelum holds vipers at every corner. It is unwise to engage with them.¡±


    Mawar stepped back from me, her face falling into shadow. ¡°I¡¯ll be going then,¡± she said stiffly, her intent radiating quiet fear of Cylrit. She practically scurried down the hallway as the Retainer of Sehz-Clar¡¯s impassive scarlet eyes chased her away.


    I sighed with a hint of exasperation, feeling a note of pity for Mawar. ¡°Do you have to be so blunt?¡±


    ¡°You do not understand the position you are in,¡± Cylrit countered. ¡°You are esteemed amongst the retinue of Scythe Seris. And in the wake of Agrona¡¯s words, that esteem has been forced even higher, regardless of whether it is deserved,¡± he said harshly.


    I frowned, sensing the undercurrent of hostility in Cylrit¡¯s words. ¡°I did not ask to be here,¡± I said, squaring myself slightly as I felt my mana roil. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d rather be anywhere but.¡±


    ¡°But you are here,¡± Cylrit said, his face stony. ¡°And now, my master must adjust her plans to compensate for your shortcomings. Thus I have been ordered to keep you on a short leash.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, feeling the pent-up emotions within from this entire day boil near the surface. ¡°You sound like you have something to say, Cylrit,¡± I snapped, my patience thin. ¡°You¡¯re not one to hold your tongue in the same way as Seris. So just tell me.¡±


    Cylrit oriented on me, something flashing in his visage. ¡°That is Scythe Seris, Spellsong. This blatant lack of respect for her station is precisely why my master must extend herself so far today. The position you have put her in is untenable and dangerous, and you do not care. You endanger her with every step you take, and you still do not take action to remedy it.¡±


    I tilted my head, absorbing Cylrit¡¯s words as I squared off with him. Perhaps there was some truth to his words, but he was wrong to think I did not care.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I opened my mouth to respond, but a rasping chuckle from the side drew me sharply from my thoughts.


    ¡°You¡¯re like two axehounds fighting over their food,¡± Retainer Uto chuckled, his shadow-wreathed form loping toward us from the depths of the hallway. Bandages wrapped much of his body, a ragged cloak showing a single chipped horn beneath the cowl. ¡°It¡¯s so satisfying to watch you soft souths bicker and squabble with your tongues rather than your fists. It shows me exactly how far above you we stand.¡±


    I felt my anger at Cylrit fade away as we were faced with this new threat, my focus shifting. Seris¡¯ Retainer oriented on Uto in turn, his stern scarlet gaze boring into the lanky Vechorian.


    ¡°Retainer Uto,¡± he said sharply. ¡°My master spared your tongue once. You should accept her mercy and cease your goading.¡±


    Uto chuckled, a sound like nails on a chalkboard. ¡°You know, I was one of your biggest fans back in the day, Cylrit,¡± he rasped. ¡°We all loved the Victorious Black Tower and his brutality¡­ but now? You¡¯re everything Vechor despises.¡±


    Cylrit brushed off the taunt without pause. ¡°You were offered mercy once, Uto,¡± he said sharply. ¡°Your attempts at provocation are shallow and empty.¡±


    Uto exhaled a disappointed sigh. ¡°I would¡¯ve loved to see what that shield of yours could do back in the day. But now you¡¯ve made yourself little more than a whipped dog. If this was the result of you turning traitor to your dominion, we should¡¯ve never wanted you in the first place. Boring.¡±


    Uto eyed Cylrit for a second or two, letting the statement hang. He seemed to be looking for some sort of reaction, but when he found none, he sighed dramatically.


    Then he ignored Cylrit utterly, focusing on me. ¡°But you know what else? Good ol¡¯ Cylrit here left all fun behind¨Cbut there was another who knew how to really live it up. I always wanted to meet that Mardeth fellow. His methods really spoke to me, you know? All those bodies he left made things so much more efficient.¡±


    I felt my hands tense into fists as my face settled into an even mask, my glare piercing the bandage-wrapped man. Seris¡¯ words filtered into my head once more. Do not rise to provocation.


    Was Uto¡¯s only purpose in life to try and just piss people off?


    ¡°Cylrit is right,¡± I countered simply, a strained smile plastered across my face. ¡°Your taunts are easy to see through, Uto.¡±


    Uto stalked forward, leaning down to inspect me more as his power billowed out. I shrugged off his intent, my skill with such force surpassing his in waves. ¡°You¡¯re a shitty liar, you know. I can see how much you want to crater in my face. Like an unscratchable itch on your back that you just. Can¡¯t. Reach,¡± Uto crooned, his grating voice like sandpaper wearing away my ears. ¡°Tell me what Mardeth did, Spellsong. I wanted to know exactly what made you throw your temper tantrum.¡±


    Unbidden, images of Sevren Denoir¡¯s caustic stump of an arm loomed in my mind. I thought of the wounded mages I¡¯d been healing throughout East Fiachra on a daily basis, each scarred by the events of the Plaguefire Incursion. And then there was Kori, Wade¡¯s little sister who was broken by blithe.


    I clenched my teeth, my pulse rising as I felt anger surge at his words. But I didn¡¯t rise to his bait, instead matching his gaze as mana thrummed throughout my channels. Though I currently felt strong enough to crush steel, I showed none of that as I watched the Retainer.


    ¡°Was it a brother? A friend?¡± Uto prodded, trying again. ¡°It¡¯s always the loss of ones you lessers care about that drive you to such anger. So he took someone from you, I¡¯m certain. But who, Spellsong?¡± he continued, his eyes watching mine for any change in emotion. When he found none, I felt his intent dip into disappointment.


    It seemed Uto was a one-trick Vritra. He¡¯d tried something like this with Arthur, too. That made it easier to weather.


    ¡°Leave us, Uto, or I will be forced to remove you myself,¡± Cylrit said impassively, thankfully putting himself between us. For all that Cylrit was an uptight prick, he was no Uto. ¡°Though we may be destined to work together in this war, you can be replaced if necessary.¡±


    Uto straightened suddenly. A flash of something that made me uneasy crossed his face, a deep grin stretching there that looked like it might swallow me whole. He looked from Cylrit to me, then back again, seeming to reach an epiphany. ¡°Ah, I understand now! It wasn¡¯t any sort of loss, was it!¡± He snapped his long, bony gray fingers. ¡°Spellsong here was always with pretty old Seris, wasn¡¯t he? Executing her plans?¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s intent flared as his face dipped into something deeper than shadow. ¡°Keep my master¡¯s name from your¨C¡±


    ¡°It makes sense why she has two pretty men with her at all times now,¡± Uto said, feigning realization. ¡°She always seemed like the kind to take two at once. I understand, though. I wouldn¡¯t mind tearing her dress off myself.¡±


    As if to punctuate his horrid words, Uto¡¯s long, sickly tongue licked his lips lewdly as he narrowed his eyes at us. I could almost taste the savage thoughts running through his head as he imagined the scene.


    Cylrit stepped forward, mana billowing from him in turbulent, undulating waves as he prepared to fight Uto right in the hallway. Uto¡¯s face stretched into a maniacal grin as he finally hooked his quarry, successfully raising Cylrit¡¯s ire.


    My hand snapped out to the side, forcefully holding Cylrit back as my emotions shifted. Uto¡¯s last comment didn¡¯t spark anger in me. Maybe it would have made me furious if I were as ignorant as Cylrit, but I had¡­ perspective.


    Seris didn¡¯t need us sticking up for her ¡®honor.¡¯ She would break Uto herself, snapping off his horns and piercing his core after his battle with Arthur. She was strong enough to shrug off his blatant attempts at provocation and he would lose any hand that tried to touch her.


    My Phoenix Will rose to the surface, my Acquire Phase blanketing my mana channels with warmth. Uto¡¯s black heart pulsed visibly in my eyes as I stared serenely into his. I felt the victorious surge in the Vechorian Retainer¡¯s intent as he believed his bait was successful. He smiled deviously, holding his arms out in an invitation to battle.


    ¡°Well, it looks like Seris¡¯ leashed pups rush to defend their master,¡± he cackled. ¡°Are you that desperate to defend the one you use to wet your¨C¡±


    ¡°I want you to think of this moment,¡± I said, my voice even and sharp. ¡°I want you to remember it, Retainer Uto.¡±


    Cylrit was barely restrained by my arm over his plate armor, but at the cool impassion in my words, he chanced me a single glance. Whatever he saw there made him recoil slightly in shock.


    ¡°Speak up, brat,¡± Uto goaded, sauntering forward as he unabashedly met my gaze. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you.¡±


    I felt my lips curve upward slowly. Ever, ever so slowly, like the tenuous draw of a bowstring.


    Killing intent was easy for mages to project. It was blunt, brute confidence in the outcome of a battle. Of the surety of your power. And while I usually needed the music of my violin to truly affect the ambient mana with my intent in more complex ways, I felt a surety radiate from the depths of my mind. It shifted in tandem with the anger at Uto¡¯s words.


    I had my own source of confidence that would alter my intent. I needed no instrument for this.


    Uto¡¯s mind never broke in that otherworld novel. When he¡¯d been trapped in the dungeons of the Dicathians¡¯ flying castle, nothing the torturer did had any effect. Only Arthur¡¯s words¨Chis goading about how Uto didn¡¯t know why he lost¨Chad any sort of effect.


    Except an infiltrator into the castle activated the spells imbued in Uto, causing them to detonate before the wretch¡¯s mind had a chance to break.


    I¡¯d see about fixing that.


    ¡°Remember this,¡± I said, feeling my body relax as a contented air pressed through my limbs. ¡°When you¡¯re chained to a wall, alone in the rancid dark, I want you to feel an¡­ itch.¡±


    ¡°What nonsense are you prattling about, Spellsong?¡± Uto rasped, though I could almost taste his confusion.


    I took a single step forward, and for that instant, it seemed that I was taller than Uto. I was a foot shorter than him, but the shadow I cast in that moment was darker than any he¡¯d ever used to conjure his magic. A deep, deep uncertainty arose from the depths of Uto¡¯s mana core as my intent pressed into the air. I projected the serene, tranquil surety of my words. A soothing, lulling cadence of ambient energy threaded through that single step. I gave him no anger. No killing intent. Only peaceful calm.


    I smiled gently at the monster in front of me. ¡°Remember the words you spoke to me when you¡¯ve lost everything,¡± I said. ¡°I want you to go mad. It¡¯ll scrape against the inside of your mind in every single instant. Like an unscratchable itch on your back that you just. Can¡¯t. Reach,¡± I mocked.


    Uto stepped back into a defensive stance, his aura flaring as he finally wrenched himself from the moment. ¡°I have no idea what nonsense you¡¯re talking about, lesser,¡± he snarled, a slight wildness remaining in his eyes that showed how unsettled he was. ¡°But I think I¡¯ll take my time ripping you to¨C¡±


    The doors to the meeting room behind us slammed open, the dark power of a Scythe rippling out. I felt myself deflate slightly as Seris strode from the room, the other Scythes slow to react as her fury was wrought plainly on her face. I stepped leisurely to the side as she strode between Cylrit and me.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± she demanded, her eyes flicking to Cylrit, whose face showed a bare, uncertain expression in the crease of his brow. ¡°Your mana was palpable in the air. Explain why there has been a disruption in our meeting.¡±


    Cylrit did not waste the opportunity. ¡°Retainer Uto made comments defaming your honor and station,¡± he said succinctly. ¡°They were of a nature dark enough that it warranted intervention and punishment. In your absence, I sought to levy punishment on your behalf.¡±


    The other Scythes¨Csave Cadell, who seemed to fill the entire doorway as he impassively observed¨Cshuffled out.


    ¡°And what were those comments?¡± Seris pressed, tilting her head and raising a perfect silver brow.


    Cylrit looked deeply uncomfortable. ¡°I apologize, Scythe Seris.¡± His eyes darted to me, a mutual understanding there. ¡°I do not believe they bear repeating. Perhaps later, away from other ears?¡±


    Seris¡¯ arms settled over her stomach, her expression simmering into something quiet and deadly. ¡°I see,¡± she said. She looked at Uto, inspecting him as if he were an ant. ¡°It seems that Retainer Uto has not learned the folly of a wagging tongue. And it appears he is in need of a teacher.¡±


    Dragoth moved to stand beside Uto, who had been slowly inching backward as Seris loomed. ¡°Now, Seris,¡± he said chidingly. ¡°You¡¯re not saying you can¡¯t have a little fun, are you? You¡¯d really attack my Retainer over petty words?¡±


    ¡°I do not attack, Dragoth,¡± Seris said dismissively. ¡°I discipline. When dogs snap at their betters, they are struck to teach them not to make such mistakes again. And you have failed to whip your dog.¡±


    Dragoth¡¯s smile slowly fell away. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be wise for you to continue this track, Seris,¡± he said. ¡°Learn to live a little, and maybe you won¡¯t lose your temper so quickly over harmless banter.¡±


    The two stared off for a long, painful moment. The air felt tense, the other Scythes watching with interest. Even Nico seemed intrigued by this interplay.


    Then Seris slowly smiled. ¡°There was another who said something in the same vein to me once upon a time,¡± she said, her slight smirk a blazing contrast to the portrait behind her. ¡°Except he pushed and pushed, you see. He truly did not understand the game he was playing.¡±


    The yawning eyes of Scythe Kelagon¡¯s decapitated head seemed to glow at Seris¡¯ words, crying in empty horror. Though the expression Seris bore could not have been more different from the sneer plastered on her pastel painting, I could see a flash of that same predatory hunger flicker in the depths.


    ¡°Keep that in mind, Scythe Dragoth,¡± Seris said casually, striding forward. She exuded no aura, but Dragoth inadvertently took a step back anyway. ¡°People forget the impact of words too often.¡± S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Indeed, they do, I thought as Seris began to glide down the Hall of Victories. I pierced Uto with a stare as we walked past, giving him a soft smile that elicited a snarl in return.


    A dog indeed.


    I hoped Arthur appreciated the coincidental gift I¡¯d just dropped into his lap. At the same time, though, I also hoped that Uto wouldn¡¯t fold too quickly beneath that itch.

 Chapter 172: War Plans

    Toren Daen


    Even in the wake of the tempus warp and the sudden shift in my perspective, my body remained tensed and coiled. Even as I finally left the deep fortress of Taegrin Caelum, part of my mind still remained in those dark hallways, quietly fearing the High Sovereign¡¯s horrid heartfire thrum.


    Seris, however, walked forward without apparent care. That serene yet predatory power she¡¯d leveraged against Dragoth and Uto still burned against my tongue and pressed against the sides of my temples in memory, yet outwardly, the silver-haired Scythe appeared calm and collected.


    I focused on the change in the air as we warped into Seris¡¯ estate. I was free of Taegrin Caelum. I could relax.


    I felt the slight, burgeoning warmth of my mental tether with Aurora as it slowly simmered back to full contact. Even as I continued to follow Seris and Cylrit through their estate, my attention returned to my bond for a brief instant.


    ¡°Do you understand why you were ordered to leave the meeting room?¡± Seris¡¯ cool, even voice said, drawing me from my thoughts.


    I worked my jaw, the Scythe¡¯s words unearthing buried emotions. They were not logical, but I felt them all the same. ¡°I was a liability,¡± I said, my voice a bit stiffer than I would have liked. ¡°My political skills are¡­ subpar. And I got the feeling you needed to divert the attention of the other Scythes.¡±


    Seris looked at me over her shoulder, the shifting ripple of her hair like waves in an ocean of pearl. ¡°You are not a liability, Toren Daen. In fact, you are anything but.¡±


    I frowned, feeling slightly confused. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t understand,¡± I replied.


    Seris sighed in a suffering manner, though there was no true heat in it. She slowed in her walk through the halls of her estate¨CI truly had no idea of our destination, and part of me suspected the Scythe of Sehz-Clar had no idea, either¨Cand stood by my side.


    ¡°A month ago, Lord Daen, nobody knew your name. The crest of your Blood bore little more significance than a passing breeze,¡± she said, a painted nail tapping the aforementioned sigil where it was stitched over my heart. Seris looked up at me with a complicated expression. Her brows were knit in a way that hinted at the thoughts beneath, something deeply curious in her gaze as she inspected the lines of my face. I stared into her eyes in turn, feeling a well of uncertainty in my chest.


    ¡°But in a little under a week, your actions made the roots of Alacryan society tremble. The horrid losses of the Plaguefire Incursion have not been seen in half a century or more, and in the wake of Varadoth¡¯s death, the state church has continually been ripped to shreds by both opportunistic highbloods and Agrona¡¯s own forces. The question on the mind of every single Scythe in that meeting was simple.¡±


    Seris tapped a finger against the fiery heart sigil over my vest in turn with her words. ¡°They wish to know Who. You. Are.¡±


    I swallowed as Seris retracted her hand. Cylrit said not a word, his intent unreadable as he stared straight ahead. I was beginning to understand that was his natural response to basically anything.


    ¡°And that was why you sent me from the room?¡± I asked. ¡°To deny the other Scythes that understanding?¡±


    Seris began to walk again, forcing Cylrit and me to trail after her mutely.


    ¡°In part. But such action would have been unnecessary had Lord Agrona not implied your worth¨Cyour interest¨Cto be beyond that of his former Voice. Perhaps I could have shifted the attention elsewhere otherwise. Perhaps I could have alluded to truths rather than faced them directly were this not the case. But I needed to do something to shift the narrative. Thus, I orchestrated the removal of all conscious Retainers from the room, including you.¡±


    ¡°So you sent me from the room,¡± I said, starting to see the picture more clearly. ¡°You¡­ made it appear as if you simply wished to discuss things without lower ears present?¡±


    Seris sighed lightly. ¡°That I did, Lord Daen. It was a blunt maneuver that only served to postpone the questions and inquiries for another time rather than eliminate them entirely. Much like draping a cloak over a man garbed in overbright colors. Those who witnessed already know an inkling of what lies beneath. After all, Scythe Viessa took many steps to get your measure. From directing Melzri to talk to you, to pushing her Retainer to intrude upon your mind. Those present know your importance. But now it shall be more difficult to pry. But soon we shall go to war, and neither of us will have to face such questions for an indeterminate age.¡±


    I stared at the hallway as we continued to walk, Seris¡¯ explanation settling into my mind. It made sense, but I also recalled Aurora¡¯s words on Agrona what felt like a year ago.


    ¡°He is a manipulator. A game player. The top of the board. But when you speak to him, you feel as if he is on your side. Things will work out in your favor through his actions. You might not see how, but that¡¯s how it is. You live in this perpetual fantasy that he can manage things himself. And if a boundary is crossed that you cannot stand for, then he will weave his words to show how things will be different next time.¡±


    And when next time comes, you are convinced that you are the one at fault, I thought, my mind continuing down that path.


    But that was not what Seris had done here. At least I didn''t think so. Perhaps her political movements resembled Agrona¡¯s on a surface level, but I could sense the quiet not-apology in her explanation. She had made a pact with me to be open with how she shifted me across the board, and while her pride would not allow her to say the words ¡®sorry,¡¯ what set her apart from her High Sovereign was that same emotion that drew me to Renea in the first place.


    She cared for others, even if she did not like to show it.


    Within my mind, Aurora hummed with something markedly uncertain. ¡°I do not have the full context of what transpired within that wretched fortress,¡± she said slowly, ¡°But I find this Scythe¡¯s words compelling. I wonder if I truly should.¡±


    She isn¡¯t Agrona, I thought, furrowing my brow. But she¡¯s something equally dangerous. A blade wielded for me rather than against me.


    Aurora seemed to agree. ¡°That simply makes it harder to determine when the blade will cut you,¡± she thought, but not with her usual level of cautious guardedness.


    I looked down at my hands, quietly contemplative as we continued to walk. ¡°On the topic of that meeting,¡± I started, ¡°I still don¡¯t know what part I¡¯m supposed to play in this war. What role you wish of me, since I presume I will be under your command.¡±


    ¡°You put it that way once before. Continue to do so, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said lightly, a hint of something predatory in her tone that made me shift slightly. My earlier comparison of the woman to a blade rose back to the forefront of my mind, but Seris¡¯ shift of voice vanished just as quickly. ¡°But you have a unique purpose in this war that we must address.¡±


    Cylrit stepped forward to open a door as we approached it, allowing his master in. His usually hostile expression was strangely neutral as he allowed me in.


    Within, a personal study lined with mahogany shelves carried a homey atmosphere. In the corner, a dormant hearth awaited a lighting spark. Twin glass doors opened out onto a balcony that overlooked the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea.


    My eyes traced to the familiar kettle and teacups that sat demurely on a nearby table as we entered.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯d like me to heat that kettle again?¡± I asked, feeling a wry spark of amusement at Seris¡¯ proclivity for the beverage.


    ¡°Not today, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said sadly. ¡°Tea is perfect for politics, but war takes the warmth from the beverage. Perhaps that dark, bitter brew you drink would be more suitable.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You mean coffee?¡± I¡¯d allowed the austere woman a sip of the drink as Renea Shorn a long time ago. I was surprised she remembered it.


    Seris nodded as she swept toward a table, Cylrit following like a shadow. ¡°I still wonder at the origins of such a drink. No matter where I looked, I could not find a trace of its mention.¡±


    I felt a hint of a smile stretch along my lips. Unfortunately, my coffee stores were running a bit low. I¡¯d have to restock in the Town Zone soon. ¡°That¡¯s my secret,¡± I said, a teasing lacing my tone. ¡°I guarantee you that you won¡¯t figure it out wherever you¡¯re looking.¡±


    For whatever reason, my words seemed to spark something in the normally demure Scythe. I saw the flash of challenge that crossed her face as she stared at me. ¡°I think you underestimate my investigative resources, Lord Daen,¡± she said primly, a hint of pride in her voice. ¡°I have not faced a puzzle I cannot solve.¡±


    I felt my smile slip slightly. Seris wouldn¡¯t ever be able to figure out this puzzle no matter how hard she tried, and there was something a bit sad about that.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    But what surprised me was the slight, rumbling chuckle that threaded from Aurora. ¡°Oh, I understand now,¡± she said mirthfully over our bond. ¡°A puzzle is indeed what she sees in you. That¡¯s why she is so¡­¡±


    I felt a bit surprised by my bond¡¯s sharp intervention. What are you talking about?


    ¡°It is not my place to say,¡± Aurora replied, a strange sort of smugness radiating from our mental tether. ¡°This, my bond, is for you to figure out on your own.¡±


    I was about to ask what she meant when Seris¡¯ cool voice interrupted my thoughts.


    ¡°Nevertheless, it is time we discussed what stance we shall take when we arrive on the continent of Dicathen,¡± Seris said, imbuing a hint of her mana into a device at the head of the table.


    To my surprise, a massive, illusory map of Dicathen appeared over the table between us. I saw the borders between Darv, the Beast Glades, Sapin, and Elenoir all in an elaborate display. The illusion projected itself in three dimensions, with slight rises and falls marking areas like the Grand Mountains. Each bit of the map was tinted silver, scrawling words noting the placement of major cities.


    I breathed out in surprise. Dicathen was vast: easily larger than the United States of my previous life. The maps that TurtleMe provided showed minuscule detail compared to the holographic mana projection that hovered before my eyes.


    ¡°Our forces will arrive soon along the coast of Sapin along a fleet of steamships,¡± Seris said, her finger trailing the edge of the sea. ¡°Cylrit, you shall be in the vanguard with Retainer Uto on this voyage, as discussed previously.¡±


    Cylrit huffed angrily, something I could sympathize with. ¡°I do not believe I can weather that man¡¯s disgusting nature for weeks at sea.¡±


    ¡°The steamships are nearly at the Dicathian coast already,¡± Seris answered. ¡°Preemptively, I proposed a wish to the High Sovereign. To maximize your time and usefulness in both Alacrya and Dicathen, you and Uto will take a tempus warp to meet up with our forces as representatives in under a week¡¯s time.¡±


    Cylrit bowed stiffly and slowly. ¡°Pardon me, Scythe Seris. But I still do not trust myself to remain civil and controlled around Retainer Uto.¡± His scarlet eyes flicked to me, a silent understanding passing between us. ¡°The filth that he utters is beyond contemptible. My hands may find their way to his throat by circumstance.¡±


    Seris looked at Cylrit measuringly, before she sighed. ¡°I understand. But I need you to be placed near to the man. In case you must intervene or act as¡­ a deterrent for Uto¡¯s more reckless actions. The Retainer of Vechor could easily damage our long-term plans, but with you as a focus, it is less likely that Uto would divert his attention in undesirable ways.¡±


    I felt my eyes widen as I looked between the Scythe and her Retainer, my thoughts awhirl at the interaction. They did not say that much, but if I were to apply my own future understanding¡­


    Was this why Cylrit accompanied Uto in the original story to meet with Aldir, Arthur, and Virion? I wondered. To keep an eye on Uto, and maybe to keep his attention occupied?


    Clearly, that hadn¡¯t fully worked. Did that mean Cylrit was the one to inform Seris of Uto¡¯s attack on Arthur, causing her to intervene?


    ¡°Very well, Scythe Seris,¡± Cylrit eventually said. ¡°I will fulfill your wishes to my utmost ability.¡±


    Seris smiled softly. ¡°I know you will, Cylrit. You always have.¡± Then she turned to me, a tilt to her head that subtly reminded me of Aurora. ¡°Now, Lord Daen, what is required of you is far more complex.¡±


    I felt my brow pinch at the Scythe¡¯s words. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Truthfully, I didn¡¯t know where I would fit in in this war. A part of me had avoided thinking too deeply, fearing what may be necessary. What my hand would be forced to do.


    ¡°In you, I have a tool that can be used in a myriad of different ways,¡± Seris started. ¡°But ultimately, all of the unique roles you may take can be reduced to several innate qualities. You do not bear the appearance of a Vritra-blooded mage. You are remarkably powerful, far beyond what would be expected of your age. You bear a single rune, yet this can easily be cloaked. And most of all, your true magics are those of formless and organic casting, like those of the Dicathians we will soon meet.¡± With each point made, she tapped a finger against the hardwood table, causing the illusory map to ripple.


    I traced the line of Seris¡¯ thinking, feeling more and more uncertain as they went on. I thought I might see what she was trying to get at. ¡°Considering what you¡¯re saying,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you want me to be some sort of spy? Infiltrate the Dicathian ranks; report on information I gather?¡±


    Seris shook her head, her long tresses of shimmering silver swaying. ¡°That is a good guess, Lord Daen, but not what I had in mind. I suspect spying and remaining undercover are not among your strong suits, plenty though those may be.¡±


    Unbidden, I felt a slight smile stretch across my face. Though I was perhaps less than subtle, I had managed months of activity in a foreign world, working to try and undermine the High Sovereign in ways both simple and complex. Perhaps I was not as thorough as Seris herself, but a sizeable portion of my existence on this continent was a lie.


    Then that smile flickered and faded as I thought of Greahd once more. I hadn¡¯t been as subtle and quiet as I thought I¡¯d been, and it had cost me the life of someone dearly close to me.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll have to fill me in,¡± I said, my voice surprisingly even. That was also something I was good at faking. ¡°I can¡¯t figure out where this is going.¡±


    Seris moved around the table, her fingers brushing the silverish sheen of mana. I watched as she stood closer, facing Darv as I was on the map.


    ¡°We enter this land as conquerors for our Sovereigns,¡± Seris said solemnly, her eyes fixed on the country of the dwarves. ¡°Most enter this war for accolades. For glory and recognition. But that is not the point. These dwarves¨Cand eventually the elves and humans of the continent as well¨Cwill be under the total dominion of the Vritra Clan.¡±


    I breathed out. I planned to improve this world; to make the outcome of the war better for all. But when it came to Alacrya¡¯s technological advantage, greater population of mages, and sheer culture of warfare, I could not fathom an outcome where Dicathen emerged as the victor in this war, no matter what actions I took. Seris was right. Dicathen would come under the sway of the Vritra. It was inevitable.


    And you will help contribute to that, part of me acknowledged. You will further the imperialistic goals of a mad god. How far will you go as you do so? How will you keep your soul clean?


    I swallowed, but Seris was not done. ¡°But there is a fundamental misunderstanding among the players of this war, Lord Daen,¡± she said, looking into my eyes. ¡°We may be conquerors, but we are also integrators. There will be a time after the war between ¡®lessers¡¯ is done. When Alacrya and Dicathen must unite together as one to fight a greater threat beyond, regardless of their differences and reservations. For there are greater causes than fighting for our own petty glories.¡±


    Perhaps any other Alacryan would think of the eventual clash between Agrona and Epheotus as the Scythe spoke. The meat grinder of war that the citizens of this continent expected to one day face as they marched on the land of the gods themselves for their Vritra overlords.


    But I saw something else. I saw a woman working to pull together a thousand matchsticks into a cohesive whole, the resulting strength great enough to withstand the blow of any steel. I saw the determination of a woman set on freeing not just her own people, but all peoples from the grip of the asura.


    Seris planned a rebellion. And in her eyes, I saw her rejection of the Fate Agrona tried to lay before her people.


    I felt my heartbeat quicken in my chest as that realization threaded through me, something deep and warm coursing along my veins in tune. I was sure it must have been audible to the woman in front of me.


    I¡¯d seen so much death and destruction in my relatively short time in this world. I¡¯d faced many monsters that wanted to tear everything down; wished for nothing more than fire and death. Sometimes it felt like I was alone in my desires for things to improve. And every time I saw another with hopes for the better¨CDarrin and Greahd¨Cthey were snuffed out.


    But Seris wasn¡¯t Darrin. And she wasn¡¯t the Mother of Fiachra.


    Here is where rebellion starts, I thought. Here is where we lay the seeds. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°And what is my place in this cause?¡± I asked, my voice serious despite myself. Seris searched my eyes, inspecting them in a way that made me even more uneasy. That deep, knowing curiosity in her called to me. I wanted to step closer, to take that hand of hers in mine. To ask her how she had found the courage and power to do this.


    ¡°You bear a power with you, Toren,¡± Seris said softly. I could almost taste it in her masked intent. She wanted to move closer, too. ¡°A power to bridge unbridgable gaps. To span unspannable chasms. To foster true understanding between those who should never share it.¡±


    But in the end, the Scythe of Sehz-Clar did not take that step. She laid a palm over the Kingdom of Darv, the silverish mana rippling from her touch. ¡°Our dwarven allies will be the first you shall learn of,¡± she said. ¡°Their culture, their traditions, their wants, desires, needs¨Cyou shall endeavor to understand it all. In turn, you shall work to show the dwarves our own culture. You shall be my integrator. A go-between between our peoples.¡±


    I breathed out, closing my eyes as I allowed myself to imagine her words. Dwarves, elves, and humans eventually working together to rebel against their Sovereign gods, all threaded together with an underpinning goal.


    It was an idealistic idea. A long shot, even. Logically, I might even point at it and call it impossible.


    But so was the concept of rebellion against Agrona. Against Kezess.


    ¡°By the dragons above,¡± Aurora said in wonder. ¡°She is an ambitious soul. She is a blade indeed, wielded against her very masters.¡±


    It was the knife that you trusted that cut deepest. And Seris planned to thrust a knife deep into the heart of the Vritra¡¯s rule.


    And the more I considered it, I thought of the late djinn, J¡¯ntarion. His dying words replayed in my mind many more times than I could count. And once again, the words Norgan spoke to me as I endured my First Sculpting swirled in tandem like putty.


    The path to peace is paved with understanding.


    We would need war first. Only with war could we start working toward peace. But I could help lay those foundations.


    Maybe I wasn¡¯t some god-slaying monolith like Arthur would be. But that didn¡¯t mean I had no place in this war; in this world.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, opening my eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll be what you need, Seris.¡±


    Seris smiled softly, brushing my shoulder with her hand before she moved away. ¡°That you shall, Toren,¡± she said, standing back near the head of the table. ¡°But there is far more to war than just assignments.¡±


    What comes after the war, I thought absently as Seris began to speak of supply distributions and the captains that would be in charge of different Alacryan posts. Somehow, I¡¯d never truly engaged with what might come after I slew Nico. Some part of me always viewed that as the end of it all. There would be no need to plan after that, for all would be fulfilled.


    But as I thought of this quiet rebellion, I found that there could be something after. I just needed to figure out what.

 Chapter 173: A Piece of the Puzzle

    Seris Vritra


    I sipped at my tea, the autumn flavors caressing my throat as the slightly-bitter aftertaste lingered. The greenish liquid remained pristine as Lake Boolan on the outskirts of Etril as I set the cup down on my table.


    The breeze from the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea sifted through the open doors, bringing the scent of salt and the cries of gulls. But now, a lingering wafting smoke from the steaming stacks of Alacrya¡¯s ironclads also brushed my nose.


    I found myself drifting far, far back in time to the old Redfeud War. The last time I had truly participated in a war, I¡¯d been a brutal tactician. An unrestrained force that shifted and bled men without a single care. And I had enjoyed it, too. The feeling of fresh, warm blood trailing down my skin as the light left my enemy¡¯s eyes.


    I felt my hands tense along my teacup. So close to shattering the thin porcelain.


    Will I become that woman again? I wondered to myself, looking at the pristine liquid tea as it slowly cooled. Can I trust myself to keep in check?


    ¡°Will Spellsong be brought into your plans soon? Your true plans?¡± Cylrit asked from nearby.


    I looked up, dismissing thoughts of the war from my mind. I took in my Retainer¡¯s appearance: his stalwart posture, severe expression, and unwavering will.


    I exhaled a slight sigh, feeling bolstered by the presence of my closest aide. The sharp lines of his face stood starkly as the greatest reminder of what I feared.


    I would remain true to my goals.


    ¡°Why do you ask, Cylrit?¡± I finally prodded. Cylrit would be going to Dicathen today, and I would follow not long after.


    Cylrit shifted slightly. ¡°You have been¡­ open with him. You have been less subtle with Spellsong than most.¡±


    I watched the table in front of me. Not a day past, Toren Daen had agreed to my position for him within the war. And Cylrit was right: I¡¯d been growing less and less cautious with my intentions and plans around the Named Blood man. I still allowed my words to have an air of plausible deniability, but I was sure Toren had picked up on some of my intentions.


    Even in my own thoughts, I did not voice my true intentions, for I could not trust those to be masked from the High Sovereign himself.


    I should not be so open with Toren, I thought absently. I have been planting seeds and laying groundwork for decades, and am prepared to do so for decades more. For me to be so open now is¡­ unlike me.


    I liked to tell myself that I was simply playing another part when I teased Toren; when I granted him insight into who I was and how I thought. I was just wearing another mask to ensure his loyalty. When I really tried, I could almost deceive myself into believing so as well.


    Unfortunately, I was not one to allow falsehoods to cloud my vision¨Cespecially those I laid myself. That was how the Vritra operated: they repeated something so often that you grew to believe it. I could prod at Toren Daen all I wanted, watching his reactions and gauging his responses, but I knew my teasing was not ultimately sourced in a well-developed plan.


    Toren had that effect on me; drawing my innermost secrets and self to the surface. And hopefully, he¡¯d have that effect on the dwarves as well. Maybe, in a distant future, on the elves and humans, too.


    ¡°No, I will not,¡± I answered. ¡°I am still many, many years away from my goals, and every person who knows raises the chance of their failure exponentially.¡± I took a liberal sip of my tea, feeling disappointed as the warmth left the beverage. ¡°Though I suspect he shall be among the first to know. He has become¡­ more important to my plans than I initially anticipated.¡±


    It was in the wake of Toren¡¯s Fiachran speech that I realized what true potential he had for my eventual plans. I could scheme and plan all I wanted, but if the people were not connected, how long would we last? How much could we endure?


    Toren wished to be a symbol in Alacrya only one time. Yet I would have to break my promises to him one more time as I laid the necessary groundwork for him to be the connective tissue of my goals.


    He¡¯d already agreed to bind Darv and Alacrya together. That precedent would make it simpler to undermine his reluctance when the time came.


    ¡°If I may interject, Scythe Seris,¡± Cylrit said haltingly. ¡°I would like to speak my opinion on this matter.¡±


    I slowly turned to my Retainer. He knew I always welcomed his counsel. Further, he knew he did not require my express permission to speak. Yet some part of the man still felt somehow obligated to ask, as if his words were innately beneath my own.


    I sighed. ¡°Speak, Cylrit. I wish to know your thoughts.¡±


    Cylrit straightened slightly, looking past me from where he stood at my side. ¡°I believe it wise to allow Lord Spellsong into our plans sooner rather than later,¡± he said haltingly, the words leaving his mouth as if they were forced through an opening far too small for them. ¡°He would make an invaluable ally in your endeavors.¡±


    I hummed in surprise. Admittedly, I had been expecting my Retainer to push for the exact opposite. ¡°I must admit, I am surprised you push for such an inclusion. Your interactions with Lord Daen have been less than cordial. I am aware of the animosity you two share, even if I do not yet understand its source.¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a long moment, an uncomfortable crease to his features that made him look his true age for an instant. ¡°Your observations, as always, are accurate, Master Seris,¡± he said, bowing slightly in respect. ¡°But while I may not like Spellsong for¡­ personal reasons, I am capable of setting those reservations aside for the greater picture.¡± He straightened once more. ¡°After all, that was what your speech to him was about yesterday. Of incompatible peoples finding compatibility.¡±


    I raised a brow as I turned in my seat, sensing more in my Retainer¡¯s words. He kept his hands clasped behind his back as always, his red gaze forward to avoid meeting my own. The common protocol for a Retainer was to show respect and deference to their Scythe, even if I never truly enforced such rules between us.


    ¡°There is something more to this view of yours, is there not?¡± I questioned, seeing the waiting tension in Cylrit¡¯s sharp jaw. ¡°It has something to do with Uto, and the confrontation between you and he yesterday.¡±


    Cylrit nodded slightly. ¡°I would have struck Uto across the jaw for what he dared say of you, my Scythe,¡± he said. ¡°In doing so, I would have provoked a struggle and conflict that Uto wished to create on the eve of our departure. Such would likely set your plans awry, as it would be impossible and illogical to pair Uto and I together for the war if we had true conflict just before.¡±


    ¡°But Spellsong¡­¡± Cylrit raised a gauntleted hand to his face, brushing back his hair. ¡°I doubted his talents before. The music that you championed and pushed¡­ I admit my arrogance and lack of vision regarding those powers. I must apologize for doubting you.¡±


    I slowly stood, something ominous in my Retainer¡¯s tone. ¡°Cylrit, what happened between Uto and Toren?¡± I pushed, a strange sensation in my chest that implored me to ask.


    ¡°While I wished to lash out in anger and rightful vengeance, Spellsong was calm. So unerringly calm and confident. It was eerie, Scythe Seris, the surety that seemed to grip the air itself as he spoke.¡±


    I stared my Retainer down, and he finally spoke again. ¡°Toren Daen told Uto to remember the moment he uttered such disgusting words to us, and to lament it when he was chained in the dark. When he was broken and lashed. It was not just the words themselves, else I would have dismissed him as mad or foolish. But his utter confidence that seemed to embrace the mana itself as he goaded Uto will stay with me for a long, long time.¡± Cylrit huffed. ¡°I do not think I have ever seen Uto unnerved before that day.¡±


    I looked down at my now-cold tea, adding this event to the jumbling box of mysteries that all surrounded Toren Daen. Gradually, I saw my reflection in the beverage.


    What should I expect from this war? I found myself asking. And if I am to take my Retainer¡¯s advice, how could I allow another past so many of my defenses?


    It had been a long, long time since I had shown myself to anyone. The thought of that unnerved me in a way I did not understand.


    ¡ª


    I watched the tempus warp as it swallowed Cylrit and Uto, teleporting them a continent away. I felt a grim sort of resolve settle into my bones as the first step of this war began.


    Dragoth huffed beside me, turning around and walking away without sparing me another word. I knew he and the other Scythes viewed me with increasing wariness in the wake of Varadoth¡¯s death.


    It has been so long since Scythe Kelagon¡¯s death that they have forgotten the fear I used to instill in them, I thought. But Varadoth has reminded them that I still have fangs.


    It was truly ironic. Agrona Vritra had intended to send a message to me by slaying Varadoth¨Ca message I could easily discern. Do not lose your fear of me. Do not think yourself safe in your position.


    My lips curved upward subtly as I moved. Agrona¡¯s message had a cascading effect on all of my peers. They tread lightly around me in a way I had nearly forgotten¨Cbut that only served to cement my plans further.


    Taegrin Caelum, as always, bore vast, open hallways and expansive rooms. Yet as I strode away from the teleportation room, I felt that every wall slowly shifted inward, compressing and strangling any sort of escape.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Many, many years ago, I had investigated if this was the effect of some sort of artifact designed to instill fear in the High Sovereign¡¯s foes. But I had grown to understand it was my own psychology enforcing the terror I already felt, projecting it onto the very stone I walked.


    As I walked, I entered one of the many trophy passages that Agrona had instilled among the mazelike stretches of his sanctum. This one was unique: while many of Agrona¡¯s trophies were asuran in nature, this room seemed slightly mundane in comparison.


    Along the walls, a few dead relics were kept in stalwart containers that banished the elements, preventing further decay. Further down, I saw a hundred other small items and trinkets, each representing a small step forward in Alacryan culture and technology.


    There are major victories, and then there are the small, incremental steps forward, I mused as I strode through the hall. Agrona may be brutal, but his mindset toward victory is precise, even when he plays at cross-purposes to himself.


    I stopped before the last item displayed, inspecting it closely. It was a long strip of jagged metal, flowing script stretching across the steel.


    The Dicatheous. This was a part of the hull of the steamship sent from Dicathen, commandeered and conquered by Alacryan forces off the coast of Truacia. It marked a significant expediting of Agrona¡¯s plans as the steam engine allowed for reliable transport of troops across the oceans.


    At least that was what was claimed. I suspected that Agrona had long been fermenting the narrative that he was decades away from the true invasion of Dicathen, and the steamship was a happy little accident that allowed him to keep up that facade.


    ¡°They all think it''s so fantastic,¡± a caustic voice said from nearby, laced with deep fatigue. ¡°The wondrous invention of the steam engine! But Grey gave those schematics to some no-name artificer in Dicathen, pawning it off as his own work. But it¡¯s one of the most basic inventions from our world.¡±


    I turned, feeling slightly surprised to see a battered and exhausted Nico Sever lounging near the wall. His clothes were covered in scrapes and battle tears, and his glasses bore several cracks. His coal-black hair was in disarray from fighting, adding to his wild, rage-bent appearance. Yet I saw no injuries over his body despite his core being so dry I could barely sense his presence.


    The young reincarnate was being forced through a grueling training regimen with Scythes Viessa and Melzri. He was likely on the barest break between sparring sessions at the moment.


    While Melzri reluctantly welcomed Nico into the fold as a ¡°new brother¡±¨Cso long as Agrona approved something, she would never truly question it¨Cthe other Scythes viewed him as a disgrace to their station. Dragoth laughed, treating him like a child. Viessa sneered in distaste, and Cadell acted as if Nico did not exist at all.


    But they were shortsighted. Perhaps it was my own tendency to nurture and groom the potential and power of many mages throughout my life, but I could not bring myself to dismiss the reincarnated boy outright. He embodied caricatures of what made one strong and intelligent, true, but I found myself questioning what he could be without the touch of Agrona across his mind.


    If I did not ask these questions of the least of us, how could I ask it for us all? For the entire continent?


    ¡°You say that the steam engine was one of your world¡¯s most basic inventions,¡± I said, drawing on that line of thinking. ¡°Yet you speak as if you could contribute something greater to this war.¡±


    Nico scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°If I wanted to, I could give this pitiful world anything it could need, the pathetic achievements of the ancient mages be damned. Electricity. The transistor. The electric engine. Even the theories behind nuclear power. But Agrona wants none of it. He thinks he¡¯s all fine with his own knowledge, dismissing the achievements of ¡®petty lessers.¡¯¡±


    I tilted my head, looking down at the boy. He blinked belatedly, seeming to realize both who exactly he had been speaking to, as well as the fact that he had spoken at all. I watched his lips start to curve into a sneer, a caustic, angry remark ready to spew forth like bile.


    ¡°Those might benefit Agrona,¡± I said, cutting the boy¡¯s words off at the root. ¡°But what would you wish to bring to this world?¡±


    Nico¡¯s eyes narrowed in angry suspicion. ¡°And why would you care, Scythe Seris?¡± he said with a snap. ¡°Are you here to mock me, too, or just poke fun at the weakest of the Scythes?¡±


    I sighed, inspecting the beleaguered boy. Truthfully, I did see him as a wretch, but not one of his own creation. This was what Agrona did to people.


    ¡°Perhaps I was simply curious,¡± I responded in turn. ¡°But if all you wish to speak are insults and barbs, then I do not believe you have anything worthwhile to say.¡±


    I turned on my heel, already beginning to stride away.


    Yet a small voice called out to me. ¡°Wait,¡± Nico said, raising his hand out from where he lay, as if he could grasp the hem of my skirts. ¡°Did¡­ did you truly want to know?¡±


    I turned back slowly.


    If you want to know more of a person, you must be like Toren, I told myself. Be open with yourself, and others will reciprocate.


    ¡°I am an inventor myself, Nico Sever.¡± After all, the shield generators beneath my Aedelgard Estate were being pioneered through my own methods. I simply lacked an efficient storage method to utilize them to their fullest. Furthermore, the asura-detecting artifacts placed all throughout Sehz-Clar were also created by my hands. ¡°And if this steam engine could grant Agrona such a boost in resources, I find myself questioning what else could help our efforts.¡±


    Nico watched me with a guarded look. Like a prey animal that saw some sort of predator, or a beaten dog being offered a cut of meat, he thought he sensed some sort of trap. But ultimately, he could find none.


    ¡°There was this old creation,¡± Nico started, ¡°Called the Internet in my world. After the fall of the Gilded Age of Technology and the many wars that reduced our populations to near extinction, it was one of the only things that stopped us from reverting to true barbarism,¡± the dark-haired boy said. ¡°It was like a universal library, accessible by everyone with devices smaller than a watch. Your population is so ignorant and backward compared to the common street urchins of my world,¡± he said, a hint of arrogance seeping through. ¡°I think¡­ I think I¡¯d make something like that, if I could.¡±


    I allowed myself to imagine it for a moment, but it seemed so alien. Everyone allowed free information? How did anyone maintain control if such knowledge was freely transmitted?


    ¡°I do not believe I can truly imagine such a thing,¡± I said slowly. What would the effects of such a system be?


    ¡°Of course, you couldn¡¯t,¡± Nico said dismissively, slumping back against the wall. ¡°But it''s either that I¡¯d create. Or coffee.¡±


    I blinked as Nico said the last words. Coffee. Hadn¡¯t someone else talked about that?


    ¡°Coffee?¡± I echoed numbly, my mind blank for an instant.


    Nico scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s a caffeinated drink from my old world,¡± he said. ¡°Helped engineers always stay awake. It''s bitter and dark. Made with beans that, no matter where I tried to look, just don¡¯t exist in this world.¡±


    And just like that, my mind began to churn and roil. Toren had spoken of coffee, hadn¡¯t he? He¡¯d given me a sip of a beverage exactly like Nico described. Which either meant Nico was wrong, and that somewhere those beans existed. Or¡­


    ¡°Nico,¡± I said, my breath slightly uneven as I prepared to ask a question. Anticipation coiled along my veins like a spring, and I very nearly failed to voice the words. ¡°What were the cities of your old world like?¡±


    My mind jumped to the stories of the zone the Unblooded Party had encountered alongside Toren Daen. Of massive buildings of steel and glass that towered hundreds of feet into the air. Of structures that should have collapsed under their own sheer weight, yet somehow made a sprawling cityscape unlike anything Alacrya or Dicathen had ever seen.


    I¡¯d already concluded from the evidence around Toren that he was the source of that zone¡¯s strange architecture and design. Yet I¡¯d assumed that it was mirroring Epheotus, the land of the gods, due to the slumbering Phoenix Will in his core. But just maybe¡­


    Nico glared at me, but he answered after a bare moment. ¡°They¡¯re like yours, Seris,¡± he said. ¡°Lots of buildings. Lots of people. Lots of filth. I¡¯d say that Cardigan is more impressive than most,¡± he said caustically.


    I blinked, feeling my anticipation diminish. That high I got whenever I put the last piece of a puzzle together began to slowly fizzle away as the impossibility of my assumption made itself known.


    It was a foolish assumption nonetheless, I thought, feeling slightly dejected. That Toren had knowledge of another¨C


    ¡°Though there were some cities,¡± Nico said, withdrawing into himself slightly, ¡°That still bore remnants from the Gilded Age. Back when we made towers that touched the clouds.¡±


    My blood ran cold.


    ¡°We still had the ability to make those colossal buildings of steel, but the population just wasn¡¯t there anymore for our urban centers,¡± Nico mused, some of his anger drifting away. ¡°So skyscrapers just weren¡¯t practical to keep being built.¡±


    Skyscrapers. The same word Toren coined for the Unblooded Party.


    I turned on my heel, feeling as if I would collapse into a puddle if I did not make it to my estate in time. So many pieces of a puzzle that each tried to slot themselves into the whole, tumbling block after tumbling block careening through my mind.


    ¡°Thank you for your time,¡± I said stiffly to Nico as I began to speed away. ¡°This has been beyond enlightening for me.¡±


    Nico¡¯s face fell into something approaching shock and irritation as I practically fled the hallway, my mana burning in my core and my heartbeat like thunder in my chest.


    I grasped one puzzle piece in my mind, pulling it close. Toren¡¯s effects on the Relictombs, forcing them to create towering structures of steel and glass that he displayed intimate knowledge of. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I pulled another just beside it, the two fitting together flush. The coffee Toren carried, and his fondness for the drink. His vehement claim I would never unearth the secret, even with the resources I had.


    Another piece drifted next to that one, cementing the three in a triangular pattern. Toren¡¯s rigid view of Nico as he entered the room. His one-track focus that seemed to ignore all else.


    But still, the conclusion of these puzzle pieces did not make sense. There was a why, but not a how.


    Until the fourth and final piece, outlined in orange and purple, seemed to burn itself before my mind¡¯s eye.


    The phoenixes of Epheotus were the true masters of rebirth. They broke themselves down, then built themselves back up again. I had long suspected that the High Sovereign¡¯s knowledge of reincarnation and other worlds stemmed from the many phoenixes he kept caged in his dungeons, each providing more and more knowledge.


    And that one, final piece that made it all fit together at the center. The asura known as Lady Dawn had perished in her cell over half a year ago, succumbing to the ministrations of the High Sovereign.


    But her Will had appeared within the core of a young man named Toren Daen as he slowly grew in strength, causing cascading ripples in my plans with every step he took. Agrona himself had acknowledged her touch on his mind.


    At first, I had suspected someone from Epheotus had replaced the true Toren Daen, using the name of a boy none would miss to influence the world and keep tabs on Alacrya. But that could not be the case: after all, his actions did not align with those of a spy. They were fully counter to that of a man trying to keep his head low.


    But if it were not the body that was replaced, but the soul¡­


    Each of my footfalls felt like the crash of a gong as the impossible picture came into focus. There were still holes here and there, of course, but something that I would have otherwise dismissed as utter absurdity began to make more and more sense. One of the greatest puzzles I had encountered appeared to lead to an astounding conclusion.


    It almost appeared that Toren Daen was a reincarnate, one that not even the Lord of the Vritra had anticipated.

 Chapter 174: To Heal Wounds

    Darrin Ordin


    ¡°Uncle,¡± Pen whined as I gently tucked her into bed, ¡°That can¡¯t be the end to the story. There¡¯s gotta be more. You arrived at the scorpion¡¯s lair, but you won¡¯t tell me about the fight!¡±


    I smiled slightly as I ruffled her dirty blonde hair. ¡°Well, you¡¯ll just have to get a good night¡¯s sleep then. If you¡¯re good tomorrow at school, I¡¯ll tell you how we battled the monstrous scorpion!¡± I leaned forward, smiling sharply as I looked my daughter in the eye. ¡°Your mom was there too, you know,¡± I said conspiratorially. ¡°She was the one who finally figured out its weakness.¡±


    Pen¡¯s green eyes¨Cmy eyes¨Csparkled with tired wonder. ¡°Well, what was the weakness?¡±


    I slowly stood, feeling an ache in my bad leg as I did so. I didn¡¯t let it show on my face, however. ¡°You¡¯ll learn tomorrow night,¡± I promised, my hand reaching for the light switch nearby. ¡°I can¡¯t spoil it for you so soon.¡±


    I¡¯d been telling my daughter old tales of my ascents through the tombs with the valiant Unblooded Party. Like the old epics of mythic heroes, I wove plotlines of intrigue and excitement that allowed us to connect more and more as the months wore on.


    ¡°Uncle,¡± Pen said, only her green eyes peeking over the blanket, ¡°Do you know when momma will wake up?¡±


    My hand stalled as it snaked toward the light switch. I felt my throat clench as I thought of Dima, slumbering in a room not twenty feet from where we stood.


    Except she might never wake up.


    ¡°The doctors said momma¡¯s really tired,¡± I said, hoping my voice didn¡¯t waver. I needed to be strong for Dima. For our daughter. ¡°She¡¯ll have to sleep for a long time before she¡¯s all better.¡±


    Pen¡¯s little brows furrowed in concern. ¡°How long? They always say that. But not how long.¡±


    I forced my eyes forward. ¡°A long time, my little fire.¡± I inhaled a shuddering breath as Pen¡¯s eyes began to mist over, a child¡¯s confusion and grief overcoming her thoughts. ¡°Tell you what, Pen,¡± I said, holding her hand. ¡°If you¡¯re extra good tomorrow, I¡¯ll get you that stuffed mana beast you¡¯ve been wanting.¡±


    Pen blinked, seeming to forget the topic for the moment, her attention successfully diverted. ¡°You promise?¡± she said slowly, seeming not to believe me. ¡°Missus Danaver says that people can¡¯t break promises. So you need to promise.¡±


    ¡°I promise,¡± I said quietly.


    ¡°Okay,¡± Pen said, sounding relieved.


    Even after I shut out the light and my daughter slowly faded into a restful sleep, I watched with a crack in my heart.


    Things had been hard since my final ascent. While I¡¯d been saving up for retirement for a long time, Dima¡¯s medical services and the constant pressure from the highbloods I¡¯d battled throughout my life made funds difficult. The other members of the Unblooded Party¨Cwhich no longer included me¨Chad chipped in what they could spare, but there was only so much they could do. Soon, I might have to sell my countryside estate to make ends meet.


    But for Dima and Pen, I would do anything.


    I quietly left Pen¡¯s room, closing the door behind me. The long hallway seemed to stretch onto infinity as I walked forward, intent on my own room.


    But the talk I¡¯d had with Pen penetrated my consciousness like a hot nail, my mind burning with pain. So when I reached a certain door, I found myself compelled to open it.


    Dima lay comatose in the center of a large bed, her dirty blonde hair splayed out as it grew. Medical devices beeped around her as they provided her with sustenance and care, seeing her through a sleep she would never wake from.


    My shadow was long and dark as it stretched into the room, the light of the hallway caressing my back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whispered. ¡°For failing to protect you. For failing our daughter,¡± I croaked.


    I¡¯d said these words a hundred times at her bedside, quietly pleading for her to wake up. Even if to slap me across the face and curse my foolishness. Even if she were to impale me with hard eyes.


    But for some reason, the wound in my heart was especially raw tonight. I stepped forward, kneeling by the bedside. But where I¡¯d knelt beside Pen¡¯s bedside in quiet camaraderie, I stayed glued to the frame like a sinner seeking forgiveness before an altar.


    Tears built along the edges of my eyes as my vision blurred, the scene so long ago replaying in my mind. Within that horrid undead zone, I watched as Dima¡¯s body flew like a broken doll as she pushed me away.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t strong enough,¡± I said, my voice cracking as I took my lover¡¯s hand. It wasn¡¯t nearly as warm as I remembered. ¡°To protect you. To protect everyone. And¡­ and I won¡¯t be. I don¡¯t know what I could do to wake you up, but¡­ but I¡¯m too weak. I¡­¡±


    My words sputtered out as I broke down again, my shoulders heaving as tears struck the sheets like hammer blows. I wasn¡¯t the strong, confident leader of the Unblooded Party that I pretended to be for my daughter. That man died in the Relictombs, left behind as he watched the woman he loved break like a marionette. I was a weak, wretched thing, barely hanging onto the ledge.


    I wept quietly for a time, the emotions tearing themselves from my chest as the monitors around me beeped apathetically.


    Then I heard my doorbell ring. It was a simple chime that echoed through speakers placed in specific rooms, alerting me that a visitor was present.


    I slammed my eyes shut, feeling anger surge in place of my grief. They always did this. Highblood Patamoor especially. There were many ways they invaded my life for my actions. Threatening shopkeepers so that I could not buy from them. Prodding at Pen¡¯s school and making each day more difficult. Making it difficult¨Cif not impossible¨Cto withdraw from my different savings accounts, or unjustly seizing my assets. And even simple things like ringing a doorbell in the middle of the night, forcing me to always be on edge.


    Most days, those actions rolled off me like fire off a magma thorn¡¯s back. But today, I felt fury rise in its place.


    I stood sharply, turning as my face stretched into a snarl. Why couldn¡¯t they just leave me alone? Why couldn¡¯t they just let us be? They¡¯d won. I didn¡¯t bother them anymore in court. I didn¡¯t pester their enterprises for their sins any longer.


    But still, like sensing the defeated air from a bluntbadger, they pounced and tore chunks of flesh from my hide with every step.


    I marched out into the hallway, my mana flaring as it surged toward my emblem. If I needed to fight these bastards off, I¡¯d do it if I had to. I stomped toward the door of my estate, flinging it wide and preparing to tell off whoever stood in the doorway.


    But when I saw the identity of who had bothered me so late in the night, I felt the breath leave my lungs as if I¡¯d been punched. Toren of Named Blood Daen stood solemnly on my doorstep, the night sky stretching behind him. His hair was longer than when I¡¯d last seen it, and was tied in a sort of half-up, half-down style.


    But I met his orange eyes.


    My fury burned hot once more, but for a different reason. I spun, unable to think, and slammed the door shut with the force of a Martial Gale.


    Except Toren had stepped forward, catching the door with apparent ease. One foot stood inside my home, a quiet refusal to leave.


    I snarled in rising anger at the mage who had caused all of this. All the pain of these last months. ¡°How dare you,¡± I hissed, stalking forward as wind swirled around my fists. ¡°How dare you show your face here, after what you¡¯ve done. I should beat you into the ground and rip out your throat for what you¡¯ve done to those I love. For all the harm you¡¯ve caused this world.¡±


    Toren looked up at me, weathering my tirade without inflection. But the words he said in response hit me like an iron hyrax. ¡°I haven¡¯t come to harm, Darrin,¡± Toren said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve come to heal her.¡±


    I stood frozen, my fury warring with my hope. Without Toren, the zone we¡¯d entered wouldn¡¯t have claimed so many lives, each another failure for me to rescue. Dima wouldn¡¯t have suffered her coma because of my weakness.


    But I also had heard the stories that filtered throughout Alacrya. The growing legend of Spellsong, the White Flame of Fiachra. I heard how he had slain the Vicar of Plague, and in the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion, kept to the healing camps for weeks.


    If there was anyone who could heal Dima¡­ Anyone¡­


    I stood on a precipice. I could deny him. Should deny him, for all the pain he had caused. But he could heal, couldn¡¯t he?


    I wavered for a moment on the steps.


    Then I turned around, clenching my fists as the wind coating them dispersed. ¡°Follow me, Lord Daen,¡± I hissed, marching towards destiny. Toren followed mutely, his steps as soft as they were within the Undead Zone. ¡°And if you harm a hair on her head, I will kill you myself.¡±


    ¡ª


    Toren¡¯s eyes seemed to glow as he peered down at Dima¡¯s body. I felt my mana still roiling hot in my core, my emotions barely contained. I crossed my arms, tapping a finger against my bicep in a steady rhythm. I needed that to focus me. Keep me grounded.


    ¡°Well?¡± I grunted. ¡°Can you heal her?¡±


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    Toren rested a hand over Dima¡¯s comatose body, the steady rise and fall of her chest alluding to her current state. I watched as orange-purple light streamed from his hands as his eyes closed.


    ¡°When I first healed you and Dima, I was unpracticed with this power of mine,¡± Toren breathed out, a strange cadence in his voice. ¡°I used it by instinct, unaware of the many intricacies of heartfire. But these past few weeks, I have grown.¡±


    I felt my breath hitch as I watched that light seep into Dima¡¯s body. I remembered the last time I witnessed this, when I had been close to death and the woman I love had laid limply in my arms. But now¡­


    Then the light stopped, fizzling out from between Toren¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°What is wrong?¡± I demanded, moving over to Dima¡¯s side. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you continuing?¡± I said harshly, looking up at the solemn young man as he stepped away.


    ¡°Because it is done,¡± he said simply. ¡°She¡¯s healed.¡±


    But still Dima did not stir. The cadence of her breathing did not shift, and her eyes did not open.


    I stepped forward, grabbing the Named Blood by the collar of his expensive vest. ¡°By the Vritra, Toren Daen, if you dare to lie to me again¨C¡±


    ¡°I am not,¡± Toren said coolly. The even cadence of his words, the quiet understanding


    within them, only served to make me more angry. ¡°She is merely sleeping now, but the block in her mind has been cleared. Come morning, she¡¯ll awake as ever.¡±


    My hand felt limp as I struggled to identify what I felt after that. Anger? That was still there. Disbelief? Mistrust? Yes, that too. But¨C


    ¡°Darry?¡± a voice said from behind me, bleary and raw. ¡°What¡­ where¡­¡±


    My hands trembled as they released Toren¡¯s collar. I turned around slowly, feeling as if every muscle in my body creaked with the effort.


    Dima blinked blearily, flashing uncomprehending blue eyes as she stared around the room, clearly dazed.


    How long had it been since I¡¯d seen those eyes?


    And when they settled on me once more, I knelt, burying my head in my hands as I wept in relief.


    Toren Daen


    I turned to the doorway, wanting to leave this place behind me. I¡¯d come here because I wanted to tie up any and all loose ends I bore to this continent, for fear I might not return.


    I didn¡¯t want to talk to Darrin. He was ultimately correct in his blame for me: I had doomed dozens to a grizzly, horrible death in the Undead Zone. I had failed to save Alun and many others I would never learn the names of.


    And how many others would be harmed by me in this literal war?


    ¡°Toren,¡± Darrin¡¯s voice said from behind me as I stood in the doorway. ¡°Are you just going to leave?¡±


    I turned slightly, but didn¡¯t face the man. I fell back into the mask of the surgeon, setting my emotions aside for the moment so I could do what I needed to. ¡°I¡¯m going to war tomorrow,¡± I said quietly. ¡°And I didn¡¯t want to leave any regrets behind.¡±


    ¡°Is that what we are to you?¡± Darrin said from the bed. I could sense from Dima¡¯s heartfire that she¡¯d fallen back asleep, still too exhausted to remain conscious. ¡°Regrets? Failures?¡±


    My hands clenched. ¡°No, Darrin,¡± I said, turning around and looking at the man. ¡°I made a conscious decision in the Relictombs to ascend. I knew the impact my presence had. And before you blame me for my callousness, let me tell you something.¡±


    I inhaled, then let out a steady breath as Darrin¡¯s eyes bored into my own. ¡°To heal your lover, I needed to empathize with her. The magic doesn¡¯t work if I can¡¯t feel a modicum of my target¡¯s emotions.¡±


    ¡°Then why?¡± Darrin demanded, standing up. His leg shifted slightly, clearly not set correctly. ¡°Why did you do it if you knew the consequences, Lord Daen?!¡±


    ¡°Because there¡¯s a bigger war out there,¡± I snapped back, my voice rising. ¡°One beyond anything you can see right now. And I have to look at every fucking life in front of me and weigh it lesser. Deem it a necessary sacrifice for my goals. I don¡¯t take these steps on a whim, Darrin. I do them because I have to.¡±


    Darrin slumped back into the bed, a quiet, judging stare on his face. ¡°You think that¡¯s better?¡± he sneered. ¡°You believe the lives that are taken in your wake are worth whatever illusory goal you¡¯ve set before you? That makes you no better than the highbloods I¡¯ve always fought, Toren. This means that you looked at the value of human life¨Cthe infinite value of life¨Cand weighed it as finite. You thought this through.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth as Darrin moved forward, his presence looming as he faced me. ¡°I thank you for healing Dima, Toren, but you are not forgiven, and your actions will never be forgotten.¡±


    ¡ª


    I stalked from the room, feeling fury roiling in my veins. I took deep breaths as I moved, fearful that I¡¯d leave scorched footprints in the floorboards.


    ¡°You managed yourself well, Toren,¡± Aurora said softly in my mind. ¡°He was wrong to treat you so after your generosity.¡±


    No, he wasn¡¯t, I thought back sharply, reaching the doorway. For all that I preach of the value of human life, I believe the lives I take are worthwhile in the face of the end goal. Darrin was right about me.


    ¡°He does not know the true path you take,¡± my bond said chidingly. ¡°He does not understand the true necessity of your battles. A million lives, however precious, may always be lost in the wake of a great cause. Were he to know your goals, he would understand.¡±


    I felt my shoulders slump. How ironic was it that Aurora did not understand how this hurt me, either? At heart, she was a warrior. The loss of life¨Cthe frailty of it¨Cwas something she¡¯d always been aware of. But me? I¡¯d been raised thinking everyone my equal. That there was something fundamentally priceless in every soul. So, when I valued Dima¡¯s life below my own need to grow stronger, how did I justify my own actions?


    Darrin viewed every life the same as I did. But I had still valued my own strength more.


    Maybe that was why he bore such hatred in his intent, even after I healed Dima. I was not simply acting out of ignorance. I didn¡¯t view human life as worthless, as so many Alacryans did.


    No. I viewed it as precious and allowed it to burn away regardless.


    I sighed a deep, world-weary sigh. I had a couple more stops to make before I was ready. I strode forward, turning the door handle in front of me.


    Then I paused, sifting through my dimension ring. With a flourish, I withdrew a single book.


    Of Mana and Minds. I looked at the cover of the book I¡¯d painstakingly annotated, outlining each and every attempt I¡¯d looked for to allow true community between mages and nonmages.


    I set the annotated book on a nearby table, feeling my hands tremble as I set it down. Darrin would certainly find it in the morning. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then I fled from the estate, zipping away as if the High Sovereign himself were chasing me.


    ¡ª


    I slowly wove around the dark path, knowing where to place my feet by instinct. The thin dirt trail led me in twisting narrows under the moonlight. I kept my hands in my pockets as I strolled, observing the stars far above.


    Aurora¡¯s relic stayed perched on my shoulder, thankfully silent as I was allowed my introspection. Thoughts flowed in a steady stream as I ascended the hill, the overgrown grass brushing my legs. A summer breeze warmed my bones as I continued on my trek.


    The East Fiachran Cemetery was a place I visited often. But I didn¡¯t know how long it would be until I would step foot here once more.


    My walk slowed as I reached a particular gravestone. Without mana enhancing my eyes or the stretching moonlight far above, I might not have been able to read the name along the headstone.


    Norgan Daen.


    It was a quaint gravestone. Norgan, ironically, would have preferred to have his corpse left in the Relictombs were he to fall in battle. But I suspected, had he known what I did about this world, he would have found a little patch of land on the top of a hill surprisingly fitting.


    ¡°I knew I¡¯d find you here,¡± a familiar voice said from behind me. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten predictable, Toren.¡±


    ¡°Hey, Naereni,¡± I said softly. ¡°I thought you¡¯d still be down with the other East Fiachrans making stew and music.¡±


    The Young Rat scoffed behind me. ¡°I noticed when you left the fire a few hours ago. It¡¯s kinda my job to see things like that, but¡­¡± She sighed, something soul-weary leaving her body. ¡°You¡¯re going to war tomorrow, aren¡¯t you?¡± she said in a quiet voice.


    ¡°I am,¡± I affirmed, my eyes tracing the inlaid words on my brother¡¯s gravestone.


    A silence stretched between the two of us that could swallow even the brightest star. ¡°It feels like ever since you entered our lives, things have moved faster than I could even keep up with,¡± Naereni suddenly said, moving forward. She looked down at the gravestone with me as she crossed her arms over her chest. ¡°It was only eight months ago that we noticed you. And now Kar, Hof, and Auntie Greahd are gone. It¡¯s only me and Wade now out of the original crew, and you¡¯ll be leaving.¡± She tapped her finger against her arm. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do next, Toren. I¡¯m the Rat now. Not the Young Rat anymore. Karsien always knew what to do next, but I¡­ I don¡¯t feel ready.¡±


    I looked up at the stars, tracing the many constellations. The Struggling Ascender stayed burning in my eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t answer those questions for you, Naereni,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But I have a few people you might like to talk to if you want a bit of direction.¡±


    Naereni huffed. ¡°Oh, do tell Toren,¡± she said jokingly. ¡°I¡¯m sure your boundless wisdom will see me through this.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°There¡¯s a man in Aramoor City named Alaric Maer,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°He¡¯s been in a similar business as you for a long time. If you still don¡¯t feel ready to take on the mantle of The Rat, try tracking him down. He could probably teach you a few things, too. There¡¯s more to him than his rough exterior.¡±


    Naereni averted her gaze ¡°What¡¯s this Alaric¡¯s net worth?¡± she asked innocently, her hands twitching.


    I chuckled aloud, mildly amused. ¡°He¡¯s got about as much to his name as the East Fiachrans we care for. He burned everything else away in a search for what happened to his Vritra-blooded son. The results were¡­ devastating,¡± I said on a more somber note. ¡°But he¡¯s got connections all across Etril. I think you¡¯d find some common ground.¡±


    I paused. ¡°Also, seek out Darrin Ordin and the Unblooded Party. If you ever need a few good people to talk to, then they¡¯re good options.¡±


    Naereni was silent for a long while. ¡°What are you going to be doing in this war, Toren?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t see these Dicathians as savages, or uncultured people. That¡¯s what the mages used to say we were, after all. And you¡¯ve got some connection to the Dicathians too, but you aren¡¯t a monster. So what is the point of this war? For you?¡±


    I sighed wearily, then opened my mouth to speak. ¡°I¡¯m no Dicathian, Naereni,¡± I said truthfully. ¡°I suppose part of me isn¡¯t truly Alacryan, either. But you¡¯re right about the other continent. They are people living their lives in peace, ignorant of the hammer blow that is about to befall them.¡± I turned to the side, looking past the hill. Far away, the burning cookfires of East Fiachra¡¯s evening meeting burned in the sky. No longer was it only nonmages who attended. In the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion, these had blossomed into something that accepted and fed everyone.


    Greahd¡¯s ashes had been spread across that plaza. She did not have a will, but Naereni had proposed a solution that would allow the Mother of Fiachra to always be with her people.


    ¡°It¡¯s my job to try and bind Alacrya to the Dicathian peoples. Because there is a war greater than the one we are about to fight on the horizon. With stakes larger than either of us can truly appreciate,¡± I finally said.


    Naereni sighed. ¡°Scythe Seris¡­ she¡¯s planning something, isn¡¯t she? Using you?¡±


    I remained silent, Aurora¡¯s talons digging into my shoulder. ¡°Just be ready for things to change once more, Naereni,¡± I said finally. ¡°I wish you and all of my home luck.¡±


    I turned to one of my few friends in this world, holding out a hand. ¡°To the future of this city,¡± I said, smiling from the depths of my heart.


    When Naereni shook my hand, I had to maneuver us so that she didn¡¯t swipe my bronze cufflinks. But I felt the tremble in her hands anyway. ¡°To the future of this continent,¡± she said in turn, a fire in her eyes even as tears fell.

 Chapter 175: An Arm Toward the Future

    Toren Daen


    I stepped into the Town Zone, expecting the usual empty street stretching out before me.


    Instead, I nearly tripped over a mess of wires that was as thick around as my arms. I cursed internally as I gingerly wove around the wires¨Cwhich glowed electric blue¨Cand inspected my surroundings.


    These past couple of weeks, I¡¯d been training meticulously with Seris. But I¡¯d also been regularly going on ascents, cataloging zones for Sevren and adding to his library of mapped pocket dimensions. And every time I returned to the Town Zone, it had been a little more chaotic.


    But wires right in front of the portal? Come on. I felt my sense for cleanliness scrape against my bones at the blatant disorder.


    Those wires led from Sevren¡¯s mana-gathering setup all the way to one of the houses, the lines snaking in the front door. I felt my brow raise as I looked at the brief collage of mad science within. ¡°Stars above, Sevren,¡± I muttered. ¡°You could stand to make this a bit neater.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to tell him that for weeks,¡± a suffering voice said from the side. ¡°But he somehow manages to keep adding stuff here. And even though I¡¯m the one going on ascents with him, I still can¡¯t figure out where he gets all of it.¡±


    I felt a smile split my face as I turned to Caera. The navy-haired noble turned her nose up in distaste at the mess of wires on the ground, clearly annoyed as she also had to maneuver around the mana cables. ¡°But my brother¡¯s been expecting you. And his secret project is ready.¡± Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I walked toward Caera, making sure not to kick the live wire near my feet. ¡°This wouldn¡¯t happen to be the secret project that he¡¯s been hinting at for weeks, but neither he nor you will tell me a single bit about?¡±


    Caera smiled impishly. ¡°Well, it might just be that secret project,¡± she said, a hint of mystery in her voice. ¡°You¡¯ll have to see for yourself.¡±


    I grunted in amusement as I followed Caera into the house, quietly wondering what I would find inside. The inside of the house¨Cthis one leaning towards Alacryan in origin¨Cwas littered with various machines, humming artifacts, and tools that I had no idea as to their purpose.


    Caera stopped in front of a door, a deep, bloody light emanating from beneath the frame. When she turned to look at me, there was an uncertain cast to her face. ¡°Hey, Toren,¡± she said, ¡°I, uh¡­ wanted to thank you. For all you¡¯ve done for my brother and me. I don¡¯t know if I would¡¯ve been able to go on ascents with him and grow so much stronger without your help. It¡¯s changed my life, and I don¡¯t know when next I¡¯ll be able to express that gratefulness.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m glad I made a difference,¡± I said honestly. ¡°But you¡¯re not done yet. I¡¯m not sure how many zones there are in the Relictombs, but you¡¯ll hate it eventually,¡± I added with a wry smirk. ¡°Try not to strangle Sevren when I¡¯m gone.¡±


    Caera huffed, holding out her fist. ¡°No promises, Spellsong,¡± she said in a mocking tone. ¡°Try not to let Scythe Seris break you in her training regimens. I¡¯ll pray to whatever gods are out there that you¡¯ll manage your saber forms properly.¡±


    I shuddered slightly as I bumped my fist against Caera¡¯s. Seris was not lenient in her training. ¡°Also no promises,¡± I replied, before stepping into the room.


    Sevren stood near a bed, a pair of goggles over his head as he tinkered with something on a long table. His white hair was matted with sweat, casting it in a more silver shade. I saw how sweat soaked his clothes, evidence of long work.


    As the door shut behind me, Sevren looked up, his shadowed teal eyes finding my own. He pulled his goggles up from his face, exhaling an exhausted breath.


    ¡°Toren,¡± he said excitedly, stepping past whatever he was working on. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for the past few days¨Crelative in the Relictombs, I know¨Cbut I¡¯ve finally finished it.¡±


    I blinked as he took me by the arm, practically hauling me forward. ¡°Finished what? I know you¡¯ve been working on something for a little while, but you refused to give me any details.¡±


    ¡°Just look,¡± Sevren said as explanation.


    The Denoir heir had led me to the table where he¡¯d been tinkering, excitedly showing me what his attention had been focused on. And immediately, my eyes widened in utter surprise.


    ¡°Sevren, what¡­ Is this what I think it is?¡± I said breathily, seeing the purpose immediately.


    A mechanical arm lay stretched open across the table. It was smooth and polished, formed of interlocking plates of familiar bronze metal, though I could swear it had a more maroon undertone than I remembered. A dozen different devices protruded from the edges of the artificial limb. A long, sharp blade protruded over the top of the forearm past the fingers, extending a few feet in length. I noticed a spool of familiar hairavant wire extending from the wrist, while what looked like a chamber for bullets was propped open along the shoulder.


    It was strangely beautiful. There was an artistic way to how the plates interlocked perfectly, creating a semblance of each muscle in the arm. The curves and flows of the metal held a mathematical precision that drew the eye and awed in the way a sculpture would.


    I felt a tingling sensation spread from my core as I recognized exactly what I was looking at. After all, Sevren was missing one arm. And here was a replacement.


    ¡°The hardest part was actually forcing the metal you gave me from the relic¨CI¡¯ve taken to calling it soulmetal¨Cto even warp. That stuff is absurdly durable, and practically nothing I did to it managed to damage it at all.¡±


    I turned robotically to Sevren as he continued to speak, feeling a measure of awe as I stared at the mad inventor. Deep within my mind, Aurora chuckled with deepest amusement.


    ¡°That was until I let every relic feather you gave me soak in a vat of fresh blood for a few days. After taking the metal out, it was as malleable as putty. I was able to fashion it into the shapes I needed before it solidified back to its former strength, but it provided a unique challenge.¡±


    ¡°Sevren, you¡­ made yourself another arm,¡± I said, feeling stupid even as I said the words.


    Sevren huffed. ¡°Yes, I did,¡± he said, flexing the stump of his right shoulder. ¡°But I can¡¯t attach it. That¡¯s beyond my expertise.¡±


    I blinked, seeing what he was aiming for. ¡°That¡¯s why you need me. To connect the arm with heartfire.¡± Then I hesitated. I¡¯d reattached arms before with my healing abilities, but only when the injury was recent and there was a tether to reconnect in both limb and body. But this¡­ this was different. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I have the abilities I need to do this.¡±


    The Denoir heir¡¯s shoulders slumped as he walked back toward the arm where it lay like an offering to a god. He stared at it for a long, long moment, his eyes tracing the graceful curves of the outline.


    ¡°I learned the truth of why Abigale was taken,¡± Sevren said quietly. ¡°Do you want to know?¡±


    I swallowed, surprised by this change in direction. I looked intently at the white-haired striker, seeing for the first time the utter exhaustion that seemed to burden him like a weighted blanket.


    ¡°She gave herself up willingly,¡± Sevren continued, ¡°So I wouldn¡¯t be taken instead. She talked about it with my mother. Made peace with her fate.¡±


    I took a few steps forward, standing next to my friend in a gesture of silent support. Yet he kept talking, his eyes riveted to his creation.


    ¡°These past few months, I realized something,¡± Sevren said, finally looking up from his creation. ¡°The djinn, J¡¯ntarion, said my method of obtaining insight into aether was flawed. That I wouldn¡¯t be able to follow in his footsteps with my current methods. And perhaps he was right about that. But what that truly revealed to me was that my reasons for chasing aether¡­ they were insubstantial.¡±


    I opened my mouth to protest, but Sevren forged on. ¡°I had a vain hope that I could find something in these Relictombs, understand some sort of aspect of aether, and I¡¯d be able to magically will away all the problems plaguing my life. Aether can do anything, I thought.¡±


    The ascender looked at me with pits of molten green. ¡°I was wrong,¡± he snarled, slamming his sole fist into the table. It rattled, an indent appearing under his knuckles. ¡°Aether isn¡¯t all-powerful. It isn¡¯t the end-all be-all fix for everything. Vivum can¡¯t wipe away wounds on the mind. Spatium can¡¯t separate the people of Alacrya from their oppressors. And Aevum can¡¯t make every weathered abuse feel instantaneous. I used this search as a crutch to avoid taking the truly dangerous steps I needed to to make this world better.¡±


    ¡°You showed me the folly of that,¡± Sevren whispered. ¡°I was content to just wall myself off in these Relictombs, chasing after a vain hope. But you went out, spreading your music and understanding. Something I sneered at as impossible, simply because I was too afraid to try. And you succeeded where I failed.¡±


    ¡°Sevren,¡± I said slowly. ¡°You didn¡¯t fail. Look at all you¡¯ve accomplished here,¡± I said, instinctively trying to support his accomplishments.


    ¡°But I did fail,¡± Sevren said, his hand clenching in turn with his teeth. ¡°The outside world changes, Toren, while everything in the Relictombs remains static. But after I have this arm, that is going to change.¡±


    I felt the burning resolve in his intent, not unlike Naereni¡¯s. The surefire desire to see a better tomorrow: to make it happen.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said at last, ¡°Then let¡¯s graft an arm, shall we?¡±


    ¡ª


    Sevren laid on the nearby bed, the stump of his right shoulder slotted into the bronze soulmetal arm he¡¯d crafted. The gadgets embedded within had retreated at a few prods of mana from the Denoir heir, and he¡¯d prepared himself for this.


    I exhaled, tuning out all distractions as I engaged my Acquire Phase. Sevren¡¯s pulsing red heartfire appeared over his chest, my sense for the aetheric energy increasing tenfold. My fingers twitched only once before I allowed them to steady, the fugue state I engaged in whenever I performed surgery taking over my mind.


    The skin has fully grafted over, I thought, No exposed blood vessels or nerves to connect to the arm of soulmetal.


    I thought I understood why Sevren had decided to use this bronze soulmetal for his prosthetic arm. It was a perfect insulator for heartfire, storing it without a hint of lost energy. And if I wanted to try and connect Sevren¡¯s lifeforce to this arm, then it made a fair amount of sense.


    I chanced a glance at my friend¡¯s other arm. While I couldn¡¯t outright see the lines of his veins, I could hear the pulse of his blood as it flowed along his vessels. The way it stretched and looped.


    I just needed to do that, didn¡¯t I? I needed to mirror that¡­ that loop.


    I exhaled, then allowed my intent to mesh with Sevren¡¯s as I brushed my hand against the stump of his shoulder where it connected to the prosthetic. He remained silent, knowing the quiet I needed for this work.


    I called to his heartfire as I fell deeper into my fugue. I knew my best friend¡¯s deepest worries; how he feared for the future of his family. How he dreaded the retribution of his Sovereigns, but hated them more. I knew his burning hope and resolve, kindled in the fires of suffering and struggle.


    My hand feathered over the stump of his arm as our lifeforces synchronized.


    Nothing happened. There was no wound to heal; no pain to wash away. My usual healing abilities were pointless here. No, what I needed¡­


    I thought of how I could project my own heartfire past my body, pushing it out in familiar veins of energy. Yet those required continuous, conscious maintenance to uphold. How did I make that permanent? How did I stretch what Sevren already had, mimicking his other arm even when he no longer bore one?


    The answer came to me a moment later, flashing like a beacon in my mind. I¡¯d been practicing an approximation of Circe Milview¡¯s three point array, trying to mimic the effects of lifeforce within. And while I hadn¡¯t managed to do so yet, there was a crucial aspect to the energies of both mana and heartfire that perpetuated the array.


    The feedback loop, I thought. Within Circe¡¯s array, the energy didn¡¯t just flow to one destination, then dissipate. It continued in an endless, circular cycle, rotating around and around and around.


    Like blood flows through the body, I thought, feeling as if I¡¯d made another connection. It doesn¡¯t just flow one way. It¡¯s a reciprocal back and forth of energy. I failed to make that connection before, since the basis for my current insight¨CAurora¡¯s relic¨Conly had one-way communication.But a true body¡¯s flow of energy is a push and a pull, just like my telekinesis.


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    I smiled as I pulled on Sevren¡¯s heartfire. Just like hesitant putty, I saw as a long, thin tendril gradually stretched from the stump of his arm. I heaved slightly for breath as I guided the thin strand along the contours of the stretches of metallic muscle.


    It was akin to trying to hold formless blood in my hands as I guided the thin vein of Sevren¡¯s energy along paths only I could see. Simultaneously keeping my lifeforce beating at the same rhythm as my friend through it all added onto the strenuous nature of the task.


    Without the constant healing practice I¡¯d gone through these past few weeks, I would never have been able to attempt this.


    I looped the energy through the hand, then pulled it slowly¨Cpainfully¨Cback toward its source. I heard Sevren¡¯s groan of pain as his lifeforce was pulled past what it normally allowed¨Clike a tendon that had been stretched past its limit. I had to allow that pain into my own heartfire, too. I needed the utter sympathy.


    And then I finally reconnected the energy to the stump on his shoulder. I heaved for breath as I finally let my hands drift away, my fingers trembling slightly as I watched the flow intently.


    Would it dissipate? Was I wrong? The circular nature of the vein of heartfire should keep it perpetually stable, but¡­


    ¡°Toren,¡± Sevren started.


    ¡°Shush,¡± I reprimanded, keeping my eyes glued on that stream of heartfire across his arm. Yes, it seemed that a flow had been created. Energy seeped through the ochre soulmetal as if it were flesh, a remembered pathway reemerging.


    ¡°I can feel it,¡± Sevren said with a measure of awe. ¡°I¨CIt¡¯s like I have an arm again. But I don¡¯t. My sense of touch is so¡­¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not done yet,¡± I said, having caught my breath. ¡°That was only one strand. But there are many branching paths that the arteries and veins in your arms take. And if you want full functionality, I¡¯m going to have to extend this singular strand into a complex web.¡±


    Sevren relaxed back into the bed. ¡°Do what you need to, Toren,¡± he said breathily, his face coated with sweat.


    And so I did. For the next several hours, I worked to extend those branches of heartfire. I wasn¡¯t exactly making something new, per se, more stretching the branch of lifeforce back into what it had once been. As I continued my art, it felt more and more as if Sevren¡¯s lifeforce itself were guiding me along, showing me the paths it used to take when he still bore his original arm.


    But then I was finally done. Half a dozen arteries I couldn¡¯t name but knew by heart now pulsed within the bronze confines of Sevren¡¯s prosthetic. I stumbled backward as my Acquire Phase finally drifted back into my core, a bone-deep exhaustion permeating every inch of my body.


    ¡°I¨CI can feel my arm again,¡± Sevren said as I closed my eyes. He laughed as he stood from the bed. ¡°It¡¯s a strange sort of feeling. Not like before, but¡­ I can move it, but not like before, either. I have to focus on it like I¡¯m casting my emblem. But I have an arm again!¡±


    I sank into a nearby chair, feeling as the leather practically swallowed my exhausted body. ¡°That thing doesn¡¯t have nerves,¡± I said droopily. ¡°So you can¡¯t feel or control it like normal. Probably can through some sort of magical bullshit, though.¡±


    Sevren¡¯s chuckles reached a crescendo. I opened blearly eyes, watching as he flexed his prosthetic. At a subtle pulse of intent, I watched as a blade erupted from the top of the forearm, extending out a couple feet.


    It looked almost like a feather. The ridges and gleaming edges bore subtle engravings and runes that made it appear like the plumes of Aurora¡¯s relic wings.


    With a grin, Sevren twitched his wrist. The brassy blade¨Cdeadly sharp and gleaming in the low light¨Cerupted from his wrist like a bullet. I watched as a bolt of hairavant wire¨Cthe same wire he¡¯d used so long ago¨Ctrailed the blade from a handle. It sank deep into the wall far away.


    Then Sevren casually engaged his regalia, tugging on the wire and allowing the dagger to shoot back to his hand. With a casual movement, the dagger slotted back over his hand.


    His main arsenal is back, I thought, impressed. Now he¡¯s gonna be able to dart around and cinch enemies with his strings again.


    ¡°That¡¯s actually pretty damn cool,¡± I said, my tone appreciative. ¡°Anything fancier you can do? There¡¯s no way you made this arm without some more cool gadgets.¡±


    Sevren smiled madly, then he pointed his palm at the window. I watched in a mix of mute awe and fascination as a hole opened along his prosthetic shoulder. Sevren popped something from a dimensional storage, holding it in his other hand. I only vaguely recognized that he¡¯d somehow integrated dimensional storage into his arm.


    I stared at the item blankly. It was a bullet. A massive bullet, easily bigger than two of my fingers. It had a wicked sharp point as the cartridge extended for nearly half a foot, and a strange coil of mana churned within the projectile.


    I looked from the bullet, to Sevren¡¯s manic grin, then back to the bullet.


    ¡°Sevren,¡± I said quietly, as if I were prodding a live bomb, ¡°Maybe you should test that in a more suitable¨C¡±


    ¡°No time like the present, Toren,¡± he said with an insane cast on his face. I watched as Sevren shoved the cartridge into his shoulder, then flexed in a strange way. The arm sealed over, stowing the cartridge inside.


    Then Sevren pointed his hand at the window, the endless expanse of the Town Zone stretching into the distance. His wrist folded downward, the hand hinging as it disconnected with a bunch of clicks.It revealed yawning darkness within.


    Sevren¡¯s shoulder glowed with electric light, a buzzing sound scratching at my eardrums. The creases in the plates of his arms pulsed as light slowly raced down to his wrist, lighting crackling from beneath the metal.


    Oh. Oh fuck.


    I layered a sound shroud over my ears in expectation. Sevren¡¯s body glowed darkly as he engaged his regalia, Dictate of Mass, but strangely, his new arm glowed the inverse as it meshed with the tendrils of lightning. He shifted his stance, lowering in a bracing posture. I saw his mouth move as I jumped to the side, ducking for cover.


    A thunderclap that shook the entire house erupted from Sevren¡¯s arm. I barely saw a streak as the bullet shot through the window, but despite the Denoir heir¡¯s regalia, he was sent flying through a nearby wall from the kickback, wood splintering and dust flying.


    A few paintings on the walls shook and fell as what I presumed was a deafening sound echoed out. My eyes were glued to the crater where the bullet had impacted far in the distance.


    Caera darted into the room a moment later, her face a mask of worry. She quickly identified where her brother was located, his body making a crater in the upper stories of the house.


    ¡°What in the hells was that noise?!¡± Caera demanded. ¡°It sounded like one of your gun things, but nothing so¨C¡±


    Sevren coughed fitfully as he exhumed the dust from his system. He appeared unharmed from his makeshift flight, if a little dazed. ¡°That, my dear sister,¡± he said, his voice rasping, ¡°Was progress!¡±


    ¡°Sevren, please tell me the next time you plan to fire a hand cannon,¡± I said, though I felt a smile stretch across my face as Sevren dusted himself off¨Cwith two hands. ¡°I think you could kill damn near anything with that attack.¡±


    My best friend huffed. ¡°The real powerful cartridges are rare and difficult to make,¡± Sevren said, flexing his arms. I saw a spent shell eject from his prosthetic shoulder. ¡°But my biggest weakness before was my inability to use Dictate of Mass on my own body. It would break from the stress before I could truly use it to its full potential. But with this new arm?¡±


    Sevren clenched his fist, a sound like rending steel echoing out. ¡°I¡¯m not so limited anymore.¡±


    We stood there for a moment¨Call three of us, staring at Sevren¡¯s new arm¨Cbefore he blinked, seeming to remember something.


    ¡°And speaking of bronze gifts,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s something else I made for you, Toren.¡±


    ¡ª


    For the second time that day, I felt a deep layer of surprise as I stared at one of Sevren¡¯s creations. Except this wasn¡¯t like his prosthetic arm.


    Bronze soulmetal, tinted a slight, bloody red, stood out as it garbed a stiff mannequin. A coating of scalemail ran from the shoulders to the hips, providing ample protection all along the body in a magnificent gleam. Each of the singular scales looked like they must have been fashioned by a master smith, small feather-like details stretching on each part. A crimson cloth covered part of the torso.


    Along the shoulders, forearms, and shins of the mannequin, more solid plates of that ochre metal stood stiffly, ready to deflect any blows or hardened strikes. Etched within were glowing orange runes that reminded me of my Second Phase. They blended in seamlessly with the scalemail¨Cor was it feathermail?¨Ccreating an artistic transition that exemplified deadly grace. In my mind¡¯s eye, I could imagine those plates shrugging off all but the most devastating of my plasma attacks.


    And on the head of the mannequin, a mask awaited. It almost looked simple: a dark halfmask that covered the upper face, shielding my nose, cheeks, and forehead from prying eyes. Underneath one of the eyes, the symbol of Named Blood Daen burned brightly.


    All of it came together to create an aura of power and mystique that I rarely felt any more. This looked like armor worthy of a Scythe¨Cno, worthy of an asura. And here it was, just¡­


    ¡°I used what leftover metal I had to create this,¡± Sevren said simply, striding forward. He imbued a bit of mana into his hand, then tapped the fiery sigil of Blood Daen on the mask.


    I watched, transfixed, as the armor seemed to fold inward on itself in a flash of light. Soon, there was only a simple pendant¨Calso fashioned in the likeness of my Blood¡¯s sigil¨Cresting in his hand.


    Sevren turned, offering the pendant out to me. ¡°There are many dimensional armor artifacts talented imbuers make,¡± he said. ¡°But I¡¯d wager this one outclasses them all.¡±


    I hesitantly accepted the pendant as it settled into my hands, feeling as if it weighed a hundred tons. ¡°Sevren, I¨C¡± I started, feeling a lump in my throat. I wanted to deny this gift; to reject it. I hadn¡¯t earned something so wonderful. Then I allowed my hands to clench around the necklace.


    I exhaled a shuddering breath. ¡°Caera, could I have a moment alone with your brother?¡±


    Caera, who had been watching this moment fondly from the side, blinked in surprise. Her brows immediately furrowed as she looked to Sevren for guidance.


    The Denoir heir seemed to sense the gravity of what I was about to say. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked on the mana gathering devices in a while,¡± Sevren said. ¡°Could you make sure there isn¡¯t any overflow? You remember what happened last time,¡± he said, giving Caera a knowing look.


    She nodded hesitantly, her scarlet eyes flicking to me, before she left the room.


    I looked at Sevren. Truly looked at him, as we were allowed this time alone. ¡°I¡¯ve never told you my final goal, have I?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t,¡± the Denoir heir affirmed. ¡°Not truly.¡±


    I exhaled, feeling as my body went rigid with tension. ¡°I need to kill a Scythe, Sevren,¡± I said. ¡°Scythe Nico needs to die.¡±


    To his credit, the only showing of Sevren¡¯s surprise was a slight widening of his eyes. He¡¯d encountered too many strange things around me to view this as truly suspect. ¡°And why do you need to kill Scythe Nico?¡± he asked. ¡°Do you need to take his place, or?¡±


    I shook my head, chuckling slightly. ¡°No, that¡¯s not it. I told you some of that land I visited, haven¡¯t I?¡±


    Sevren nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as they did whenever he entered deep thought.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you everything, Sevren,¡± I said. ¡°Nico¡¯s soul is from another world beyond this one. And alongside another like him, Agrona plans to use them both to draw something truly powerful to this dimension. The soul of a being with a capacity for perfect control over mana, enough that they could rip it from the asura themselves. With her, Agrona can truly end this war he has with Kezess Indrath. No more will he need the likes of Alacrya or Dicathen. Epheotus would be his only goal.¡±


    I looked up at my best friend, feeling how my eyes flared with power. ¡°And I won¡¯t let that happen, Sevren. I¡¯m going to stop it, even if it takes every drop of blood in my body.¡±


    ¡ª


    The soulmetal armor that adorned my body¨Calongside my new mask¨Cfelt light as a feather as I walked through the halls of Scythe Seris¡¯ estate. Sevren¡¯s craft fit me like a glove, the soundless mail accentuating my physique perfectly. The plated shoulders, forearms, and greaves reflected the low light as each step infused me with confidence. I felt as my core thrummed with power, an anticipation I could not contain building along my veins.


    ¡°This is it, Toren,¡± Aurora said, her touch feathering across my shoulder. ¡°From here, there is no turning back.¡±


    The moment we bonded together, Lady Dawn, there was no turning back, I replied with a slight smile. But I¡¯m going to miss Alacrya, for all the hell I¡¯ve experienced here.


    The Unseen World washed over my vision, revealing the phoenix shade walking by my side. ¡°It may not simply be goodbye, my bond,¡± Aurora said, her eyes fixed on where Seris Vritra, Scythe of Sehz-Clar, waited ahead beside a teleportation gate. ¡°It may simply be a fond farewell. The connections you have made on this continent are not so easily left behind. They shall await your return, and whatever tidings you bring.¡±


    A smile graced my lips as I stepped toward Seris, the Unseen World vanishing behind me. And I finally reached my destination.


    Seris stood mutely at attention in front of an empty portal frame, her slim, petite figure utterly small in the face of its grandness. I thought it would make a wonderful painting. The kind that Renea Shorn would keep in her room of war.


    ¡°What do you think lays on the other side of this portal, Lord Daen?¡± Seris asked, not turning to look at me.


    I knew exactly what lay on the other side. I¡¯d read about this precise moment in a novel from another world. But as I recalled Seris¡¯ old lament of what she wished to imagine on Dicathian shores, I realized that was the wrong answer.


    ¡°I think that there is opportunity beyond this portal,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°Maybe not grand impossibilities, but more than you probably think.¡±


    Seris spared me a single glance, her face softening from the iron mask she wore. ¡°Truly a silver tongue you have, Lord Daen,¡± she said musingly. ¡°But I don¡¯t want half answers. Tell me what you imagine,¡± she commanded.


    I tilted my head, tracing my eyes over the runes inscribed on the portal frame. ¡°I think there is an opportunity for victory. Opportunity for change, across both continents. Opportunity for peace, so long as we play our cards right.¡±


    Seris was silent for a moment. ¡°We, Lord Daen?¡± she finally echoed in question.


    ¡°It¡¯s a team effort, isn¡¯t it?¡± I replied, walking forward slightly so that we were side by side. As close as I was really willing to get. ¡°I can¡¯t exactly do what you wish me to without your help.¡±


    The Scythe folded her hands in front of herself, but didn¡¯t immediately respond. Instead, the silence of Seris¡¯ estate grew, contrasted only by the distant sound of waves crashing against a shoreline. I felt my hands tense as I imagined what lay beyond. All that I had prepared for.


    This is it, I thought. This is where everything begins. Where nothing will be the same again.


    And finally, a portal slowly fuzzed into existence within the frame, casting my armor in a reflective violet hue.


    Seris didn¡¯t spare me another glance. She stepped forward, entering the teleportation gate and leaving this continent behind.


    I clenched my hands, feeling excitement, curiosity, and no little trepidation line my bones. Then I, too, stepped into the shimmering pane of purple.

 Chapter 176: Locking Eyes

    Arthur Leywin


    I held my breath as the Alacryan soldiers¡¯ conversation continued unabated. My legs burned from the mana I forced through my channels, the sweltering heat within my little crevice making me sweat even further. While I kept my presence hidden with Mirage Walk, it was a constant effort just to stand. I couldn¡¯t continue this much longer. Furthermore, maintaining the wall of earth in front of me strained something deeply in my body.


    I¡¯d come out here on a hunch, fearing the worst after defeating the Retainer, Jagrette. I¡¯d flown with Sylvie¨Cmy core empty and my body burning from my near brush with backlash¨Call along the southern border of Sapin, tracking the source of the Alacryan forces that had ambushed the divisions of Dicathen along our southern flank.


    But even if the battle near Slore was over, there were far more deadly matters at hand. The Alacryans shouldn¡¯t have been able to sneak around to our rear so easily. After all, we¡¯d expected them to attack from the sea or further east, but they¡¯d somehow maneuvered to our least defended area.


    The only way that could¡¯ve happened, as far as I could see, was that the army had been intentionally let in.


    If the dwarves had betrayed Dicathen, then we were not only potentially down two Lances, but also a third of our troops and military force. And after what I¡¯d just seen in this cavern, my suspicions had unfortunately been confirmed. Alacryan soldiers strode about with dwarves within the cavern, tending to a large teleportation gate and ferrying more troops in.


    Even as I watched the dwarves below usher in our continent¡¯s enemies, I hoped they were only a minor faction of some sort. A rebel group, unsupported by the true powers on our side. But I hadn¡¯t become a King in my past life by thinking optimistically.


    I listened as the Alacryan contingent of soldiers left my little hidey-hole of conjured earth behind, muttering to themselves about the ¡®Great Vritra¡¯ and their ¡®Bloods,¡¯ I allowed the seconds to tick by. Each further beat of my heart made the air grow a little hotter, my legs shake a little more, and my concentration on my mana slip just a bit further.


    But finally, I felt a measure of peace as the Alacryans retreated. I allowed the earthen wall in front of me to dissipate, the colder air a breeze on my face.


    We got what we came here for. Now let¡¯s go back to tell Virion so you can actually get some rest to heal your wounds, Sylvie pleaded mentally, her fox form stuffed in my jacket.


    Yeah, let¡¯s go, I thought back, already contemplating how I would tell Gramps and Aldir about this. The steps we¡¯d need to take would likely be drastic. I began to walk away from the domed cavern, cataloging this disaster into the long list of disasters I would need to overcome.


    But I was forced to turn back as I heard the entire contingent of Alacryans behind me kneel. I turned lethargically, Sylvie screaming in my head that we needed to leave, but the presence that exited the large teleportation gate made my blood congeal in my veins.


    I¡¯d thought myself ready. I¡¯d confronted two Retainers; even killed one. Even under the suspicion that the dwarves had betrayed Dicathen, I had enough confidence in myself, Sylvie, and Virion that we could win this war. But as that obsidian-clad figure stepped from the gate, I felt my already weakened knees tremble.


    Their aura was a suffocating presence throughout the cavern that sucked the breath from my already beleaguered lungs. The Scythe¨Cfor what else could she be?--looked about the cavern with apparent disinterest. I¡¯d become accustomed to viewing every Vritra with an element of disgust, but there was something terribly beautiful about this one. Terrible, like the edge of a knife, but beautiful.


    Amidst the crowd of kneeling dwarves and Alacryans, the woman¨Cwho looked only a few years older than Tessia¨Cappeared small and petite, at least physically. But the aura she cast made it clear to all around that she was the largest there, if the two horns that thrust from her pearlescent hair did not already make it clear.


    Sylvie had gone stiff within the folds of my cloak, her own thoughts and emotions forced into shock and terror as she witnessed the Scythe. Part of me wanted to run, even with Mirage Walk. Could I truly hide my presence from this creature? This Vritra of the hells?


    I felt like a gnat facing a hurricane.


    ¡°L-Lady Seris?¡± an Alacryan soldier greeted the Scythe. Lady Seris looked down impassively at the Alacryan soldier who had spoken. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Where is Cylrit?¡± the Scythe asked, her voice cool and smooth.


    I remained utterly focused on the interplay as the nervous soldier moved to respond. But then something in my core twisted.


    My gaze was forcefully drawn back to the teleportation gate as another figure stepped through. Though the kneeling Alacryans and dwarves paid the figure barely a note of acknowledgment before returning their attention to the Scythe, I felt my eyes narrow into pinpricks.


    In my coat, Sylvie shuddered and curled up further, a note of terror in her voice. By my grandfather, she muttered. I¨CI don¡¯t understand. How does he have so much aether?!


    The figure was cloaked in resplendent bronze armor that looked like scalemail, adorned with sturdy pauldrons that looked bloody in the low light. A simple half-mask of a similar make covered most of his face from my view, but I could make out the color of his strawberry-blonde hair from where I hid. A symbol like a flaming heart stood out prominently on his mask, seeming to etch itself into my mind.


    He didn¡¯t have the horns or dark features I¡¯d come to associate with the Vritra. That left me confused in and of itself, but for some reason, I felt my focus drawn to this strange man as he stood solemnly behind Lady Seris.


    His aura was what made me so uncertain. It wasn¡¯t the same powerful, dominant hurricane that the Scythe wielded; barely contained. No, this was more like a subtle, pulsing heartbeat into the ambient mana, brushing against my senses like both the beat of a drum and the ripple of lake water. With an affinity for all four elements, I was able to better discern the eddies of his power as it pushed and pulled in equal measure.


    I felt my dimension ring vibrate on my finger as I stared down at the two¨Ca Retainer and a Scythe, no doubt. I clasped my other hand over the vibrating ring, forcing it to stop buzzing. I didn¡¯t know why it was acting up, but I pushed myself to absorb the words of the Alacryan as they talked to Scythe Seris.


    ¡°Forgive my rudeness, Lady Seris, but what of the new Scythe? I was instructed to take him to Commander Uto.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not ready. Melzri and Viessa are still working on him,¡± Seris finally said, her apathetic gaze freezing the soldier to the floor. Behind Seris, the Retainer peered around the cavern, a curious expression peeking through his mask.


    Another Scythe, I thought headily, my mind swimming. Sylvie whimpered within my coat, mumbling something about aether and power.


    We need to get out of here, I thought, pushing myself to move. But as I turned to leave, I spared one last glance over my shoulder, just as the Scythe named Seris did so as well.


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    I felt my blood run cold as we locked eyes for that barest moment. And not far behind Scythe Seris, that strange Retainer¨Cthe one who had spooked Sylvie so deeply¨Calso peered in my direction.


    Yet Scythe Seris continued on, unphased. She acted for all the world as if she had not seen me at all, though I was certain she had.


    But her Retainer didn¡¯t look away. I felt his eyes searching mine, peering into and through me. It wasn¡¯t just that he could see me. No, I felt exposed.


    I¡¯m ready to fight, Sylv thought to me, her emotions still wrought with fear. I will, papa.


    I didn¡¯t dare breathe. I didn¡¯t even dare respond to my draconic bond. I was sure my thundering heart could be heard by everyone in the cavern, a drumbeat not unlike the Retainer¡¯s pulsing mana trying to rip itself out of my chest.


    The Retainer¡¯s mouth opened. My hand clenched, prepared to draw my sword from my vibrating dimension ring. If he would alert the Alacryans around us¡­


    ¡°Do not tarry,¡± Seris commanded to the Retainer as she continued to walk away. ¡°Your duty is yet unfulfilled.¡±


    The Retainer blinked, the spell between us shattering. He shook himself, as if only now remembering where he was. His mouth clacked shut. Then he turned, following after his Scythe with resounding steps.


    I would not soon forget the man¡¯s burning eyes, each like the caldera of an active volcano, nor the implications of the haunting last words of the Scythe.


    ¡ª


    I limped out of the cavern, pushing myself through the Darvish wastes as I plodded toward the southern border of Sapin. Sylvie finally pulled herself from my coat, enlarging to her full draconic form as we trudged away from the Retainer and Scythe.


    I was certain both had sensed me, yet they¡¯d continued on their way as if they hadn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t know why, and I felt a constant fear nipping at my heels as I trudged through the Darvish wastes.


    I kept Mirage Walk active for fear of the Alacryan soldiers sensing me. Even as night fell, I zigzagged from boulder to boulder, every snap of a twig or brush of wind making me tense in terrified anticipation.


    ¡°Sylvie,¡± I whispered as we finally neared the treeline of the border. ¡°What terrified you so much? Why did that Retainer scare you? I¡¯ve¡­ never felt you afraid before.¡±


    My bond had begun to view herself as an asura. Her pride swelled in her status as a true dragon, and though she had felt trepidation and worry, I had not felt such terror over her bond before.


    Sylvie was quiet for a long time, her sinuous black draconic form blending in with the night sky above. ¡°You know of my clan¡¯s aether arts,¡± she said quietly. ¡°How Lady Myre taught me to heal and use vivum to restore the body.¡±


    I slumped against a hollowed-out log. I wanted to go back to the castle. We needed to go back to the castle. But my body protested every movement I took, and I feared that flight¨Ceven here¨Cwould alert the Scythe back a way. And any use of aether or mana might alert them, too.


    I rested my back against the log, feeling my eyes begin to droop slightly. ¡°Yeah, you told me about that training. When that masked Retainer appeared, you seemed to sense something I couldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°The Indrath Clan doesn¡¯t store aether like we do mana,¡± Sylvie whispered above me, lowering her head so that it rested by my chin. ¡°The elders of my clan tried to make an aether core within an infant with a birth defect that caused them to lack a core. And they didn''t¡­ They didn¡¯t survive the procedure,¡± she rumbled weakly. ¡°But somehow, that Retainer we saw was able to compound aether. There was so, so much of it radiating off of him in pulsing waves. I¡¯ve never sensed so much in one place. Except from¡­ my family.¡±


    The added implications of this made me shudder. ¡°I thought only the dragons could influence aether,¡± I whispered, feeling unnerved. Aether was what made the dragons reign supreme over the other asuran clans, and if Sylvie thought something impossible¡­ ¡°And you¡¯re saying Agrona has¡­ found some way to store it? Using this Retainer?¡±


    Sylvie was quiet for a time as she huddled around me in her draconic form, sheltering me from the cold. ¡°Everyone has a bit of aether in their bodies. If I try really, really hard, I can sense that energy. That Retainer¡¯s power was like that, only a hundred times more powerful. I don¡¯t know if Agrona figured out a way to make that aether bigger, or if this is a sort of anomaly. We simply don¡¯t know.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth in quiet frustration, but there was a strange reservation that flowed over my bond with Sylvie that distracted me from the hundreds of questions bouncing about in my head.


    ¡°What is it, Sylv?¡± I pushed, sensing her uncertainty.


    ¡°You said it was only the dragons that could use aether, but that¡¯s wrong,¡± she said quietly. ¡°The ancient mages could, too. Before they vanished.¡±


    I blinked, feeling a sudden surge of wakefulness as I registered my bond¡¯s words. ¡°What do you mean? I thought us ¡®lessers¡¯ weren¡¯t able to touch that energy at all.¡± After all, I only had the barest influence from Sylvia¡¯s Will, slumbering deep in my core. Static Void¨Cthe spell where I separated myself from the normal flow of time¨Cwas inherited from her understanding.


    Sylvie was quiet, shifting nervously on her haunches. I had the distinct impression that she was masking her emotions from me, keeping her true thoughts hidden. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you everything, Arthur, but think for a moment. Think of all the remnants of the ancient mages that your people use. Those dimension rings you carry? The teleportation gates that your people use? And a magical flying castle? What sort of magic do you think powers all of them?¡±


    I breathed out, my eyes widening. ¡°Spatium,¡± I uttered, the words coming into place. ¡°It¡¯s all using an edict of aether. Of course! How did I not see it before?¡±


    I turned to my bond, another question immediately popping up. ¡°But if these mages were so adept at using aether that they could network an entire continent, how did they vanish?¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s bond went utterly dark. I blinked, surprised and concerned from how she turned away from me, as if¡­ ashamed? ¡°There are secrets that you can¡¯t know yet,¡± she said in a quiet rumble. ¡°One day, maybe I can tell you. But there are things that can hurt both of us, should we push too far.¡±


    Feeling somehow colder than ever, I settled back against the log, trying to decipher the meaning behind my bond¡¯s words. But the exhaustion I¡¯d been barely keeping at bay pressed against my consciousness, threatening to pull me under.


    I¡¯d fought in battle for hours on end, then faced a Retainer. After barely surviving that encounter, I¡¯d trekked hundreds of miles south to unearth the true allegiances of the dwarves. And now every action was paying its toll.


    I felt myself drifting off to sleep, promising myself I¡¯d awake in an hour or so to make the final journey to the castle. My eyes began to close as Sylvie shifted above me, her anxiety prevalent even without our bond¡¯s tether.


    And then my eyes snapped open when the dimension ring on my thumb buzzed irreverently. I cursed as I sat up, unable to sleep yet due to the irritating vibrations.


    My ring had been humming and vibrating for the past hour or so since I¡¯d left the cavern, but it had slowed down as I moved further away. I¡¯d almost forgotten it due to the chaotic nature of my own thoughts, but now¡­


    I threaded a tendril of mana into my dimension ring, easily finding the source of the disturbance. But when I summoned it from the depths of the pocket dimension, I found my jaw gaping.


    Dawn¡¯s Ballad vibrated like an unsteady hand, pulses of orange-purple striations streaming along its teal surface. The end, which had been weathered flat by the touch of the Retainer, Jagrette, sparked and sputtered light the color of a waxing sunset like blood. In my hands, the matte-black handle burned to the touch. It was winding down, the energy dispersing, but¡­


    I remembered the stickly asura, Wren, telling me about the source of this sword. He¡¯d fashioned it for a phoenix named Aurora, but she¡¯d vanished before he could present it. And apparently, it had begun to react to her presence and actions recently. Wren had practically fawned over my sword whenever it displayed reactions like this, but for it to happen now of all times¡­


    Sylvie looked at the sword with wide eyes. ¡°Papa,¡± she whispered, her voice a low croon, ¡°There¡¯s something you should know. I didn¡¯t say so earlier, because it just didn¡¯t make sense. I¡¯ll admit, part of me didn¡¯t truly believe it, either. But now, with Dawn¡¯s Ballad acting up¡­¡±


    I turned wide eyes to my bond as she matched mine with pupils of slitted gold. ¡°The phoenixes can influence aether slightly, too. But the Asclepius Clan¨Cthe resplendent phoenixes of the Great Eight¨Cdeserted Epheotus long ago with their Prince Mordain, seeking refuge with Agrona and joining his horrid cause.¡±


    Sylvie looked deep into my eyes. ¡°We don¡¯t only have to face Vritra lessurans in this war,¡± she said, coming to the same realization as me. ¡°But phoenix hybrids, too.¡±

 Chapter 177: In the Depths of Darv

    Toren Daen


    Seris strode through the cavern toward the opposite edge, a small contingent of fellow Alacryans at her heels. Most of the small cavern around the teleportation gate remained kneeling as she swept past like a graceful reaper, her onyx eyes cold and impassive as she kept her gaze forward.


    Behind us, the barrel-chested man who had first greeted the Scythe of Sehz-Clar¨Clikely the captain of the divisions down below¨Cnervously trundled after. As we walked, the pathways of people split, mages suffocated by Scythe Seris¡¯ aura as she passed. Absently, I realized that I rarely even sensed the Scythe¡¯s aura. She had a tendency to keep her cloaking artifact activated around me even now, but this presentation was a deliberately crafted one.


    ¡°What is the state of our recently deployed troops along the western coast of Sapin?¡± Seris asked brusquely.


    Behind me, I sensed as the man¡¯s heartbeat began to rapidly increase, his features paling as he swallowed. ¡°Scythe Seris, I¡­¡±


    Seris stopped abruptly, causing the captain behind us to lurch.


    ¡°What is their status?¡± Seris repeated, barely turning her head. And from the bare inflection of her intent, it was clear to both me and the poor captain that she would not ask again.


    ¡°Reports are sparse,¡± the man forced out, squeezing his eyes shut. ¡°But it appears they were routed despite their ambush of the Dicathians near the town of Slore. Retainer Jagrette accompanied the formation, but we have yet to hear back from her.¡±


    The man stood stock still, his heartbeat so loud I was almost certain it would be audible even to the untuned ears of Seris.


    ¡°You are not telling me everything, captain,¡± Seris scolded coolly. ¡°You withhold information.¡±


    The man gulped, and I felt a pang of pity for the man as his intent rippled with fear. He went back to one knee, his forehead glistening with sweat as he pressed it to the dirt beneath us. ¡°There were rumored sightings of a young man with auburn hair wielding four elements on the side of the Dicathians,¡± he whispered. ¡°It is suspected that Lance Godspell was present. And if Retainer Jagrette is not returning communication¡­¡±


    The man trembled as he left the rest unsaid. Seris¡¯ aura flared slightly in feigned anger¨Cat least I believed it to be feigned¨Cand she exhaled an irritated sigh through her nose. The air held a pregnant pause as the Scythe visibly considered her response.


    But the captain¡¯s words derailed my train of thought, calling to mind my bare brush with the newest Lance of Dicathen. I hadn¡¯t been able to sense Arthur¡¯s mana, seeing as it was masked under the effects of Mirage Walk.


    But he could not hide his heartbeat from my ears. And just like Scythe Nico¡¯s flaring lifeforce, so too did Arthur bear the telltale signs of rebirth. It was hard to describe: like a flower that had just come into bloom, or a sprouting shoot of grass after a long winter. There was a vibrant rhythm to it, utterly distinct.


    My thoughts were forcibly drawn back to the situation at hand as I heard the bated breaths and ratcheting lifeforces of the kneeling Alacryans and dwarves all around. Seris looked ever-so-slightly displeased, a slight downturn to her lips as she appeared to inspect the captain.


    This is another mask of hers, I thought, inspecting the nervous crowd around us. The fear they pulsed into the ambient mana was liquid and tarry, flowing like sap as I sensed it through their intent. The general who cultivates fear. The Scythe of Alacrya.


    ¡°Then it appears we must find the reason for this failure,¡± Seris said as she began to walk forward again. ¡°Tell me, who leads the dwarves in this establishment?¡±


    The barrel-chested Alacryan captain looked uncertain for the barest instant, but then relief washed over their features as they realized they weren¡¯t going to be questioned on this any further. He raised his head from the dirt where he had been bowing ¡°An older dwarven woman named Jotilda Shintstone commands the traitors,¡± he said. ¡°She is currently working to expand our cavern network with her people.¡±


    Seris nodded slowly. ¡°Take me to her, Captain,¡± she ordered coolly.


    The man swallowed, standing once more on shaky legs. ¡°Yes, my Scythe,¡± he said.


    Seris and I followed the man at a quick pace as he trudged through the tunnels. Everywhere we passed, dwarves and Alacryans alike bowed and averted their eyes, their fear at Seris¡¯ aura keeping them still.


    ¡°So unlike Renea Shorn,¡± Aurora mused, echoing my own thoughts. ¡°Where the employees of Bloodstone Elixirs loved and respected their master, these men cower like whipped dogs as she passes.¡±


    She needs to act like the Scythe she is, I mused. But my thoughts darkened as we threaded down dim passageways.


    I didn¡¯t like these deep, enclosed caverns. The air was stuffy and hot from the myriad workers all around, and each tunnel seemed to press on me closer and closer. I missed the open air; the sensation of sunlight on my skin.


    The deep underground reminded me of a dungeon far too much. Over my bond, I could feel Aurora¡¯s trepidation as each step took us deeper into torch-lit darkness.


    Before long, however, we reached our destination.


    I heard them before I saw them. Echoing hammer blows rung out in a steady chorus of smashing rock. Again and again it went, the floor shaking beneath us with each strike.


    ¡°Don¡¯t relent, you bastards!¡± a voice like a trumpet echoed out. ¡°Feel the stone as it breaks and weathers away under your hammers! And keep that up! We are dwarves, my lads, and the earth will break long before our bones!¡±


    I felt my eyebrows rise under my half-mask as the scathing¨Cyet simultaneously encouraging¨Crant continued.


    We finally stepped out into a wider cavern, the tunnel flaring out on both sides. Constructs of wood and stone arrayed the entire swath of rock before us, a site of massive construction stretching before us. Everywhere I looked, dwarves worked under torchlight as they hammered away at the surrounding rock. A few Alacryan soldiers lounged in the corners, bored as they stared out from their guard posts.


    I restrained the urge to let my jaw drop. Towers of stone rose along carefully sculpted pathways, leading to slowly growing buildings and hovels of rock and earth. I watched as a dwarf gradually raised a wall of stone, allowing it to meld into another wall at a perfect angle. Their large hands clenched and unclenched, a satisfied smile stretching out from under their beard, which was nearly the exact color as the stone they¡¯d just raised.


    As Seris entered the large cavern, however, the dwarves gradually stopped in their work as her aura washed over them. A hundred eyes turned to us as the sounds of industry and life faded away as if smothered by a dark blanket.


    Seris hovered in the air slightly as the attention of all in the cavern settled on her. She looked down on all those present as the torchlight flickered across her moonlight features. All around, I heard the terrified mutters of ¡®Scythe¡¯ as dwarf and Alacryan bowed in respect and fear. ¡°Jotilda Shintstone,¡± she said simply. ¡°Step forward.¡±


    There was a tense silence throughout the cavern before a female dwarf stepped forward, her head bowed low.


    ¡°That is me, your ladyship,¡± she said, her voice a deep bass rumble¨Cthe same voice that I¡¯d heard before entering the cave. ¡°Jotilda Shintstone. At your service.¡±


    The color had long since bled from Jotilda¡¯s hair from age, leaving it a long, rusty gray color as it ran in a long braid down her back. As was her race¡¯s tendency, she was quite short, the top of her head only coming up to my shoulder. She wore light-plated armor like she was still a youth, yet the wrinkles on her almost blocky face told me her true age.


    Internally, I allowed myself a bare bit of amusement at how similar her accent sounded to a Scottish one.


    Seris inspected the woman briefly. ¡°I have been told that you lead the dwarves within this hideout, Elder Shintstone,¡± the Scythe said. ¡°Is this true?¡±


    Jotilda shifted nervously, but nothing more. ¡°Aye, your ladyship. I work in direct contact with Elder Rahdeas. These dwarves follow my orders as they are handed down from the Elder himself.¡±


    Seris made a show of slowly looking at the Alacryan soldiers stationed around the cavern, then back to Jotilda. The dwarf shrank slightly as if she were facing the maw of a great beast, but I had to commend her spine.


    ¡°Your Scythe sends her messages subtly,¡± Aurora commented. ¡°Though this dwarf may follow Elder Rahdeas, Seris will not allow her to forget who truly holds power in this cavern.¡±


    ¡°I have just arrived on this continent and have many tasks to complete,¡± Seris said simply. ¡°Thus, the dwarves of Darv will not have my direct supervision or direction. In my place, however, is one equally suitable.¡±


    I felt an almost palpable wave of curiosity and confusion echo out as the many soldiers present shifted.


    ¡°Lord Toren of Named Blood Daen will act as my voice and hand when I am not present,¡± Seris said simply, allowing herself to lower in the air. ¡°Some of you may have heard of him and his exploits across Alacrya. He will work with you to enforce the further cooperation of dwarf and Alacryan throughout this war.¡±


    On cue, I stepped forward, bearing the looks of most present in the cavern. More than a few were actively hostile.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Right when I first came to this world, such concentrated attention would make me wilt and turn away. But after standing in a meeting room with every single Scythe alongside the Lord of Alacrya himself, I found that this was a rather paltry thing to endure.


    I remained silent as Seris turned, giving me one last look over her shoulder before hovering out of the room. Her aura went with her, the restrained tempest retreating and allowing the cavern to breathe. The torches¨Cwhich had appeared to dim under the weight of Seris¡¯ presence¨Csuddenly flared back to their normal brightness.


    The dwarves had been somewhat stunned into silence by the speedy entrance, declaration, and exit of the Scythe. If it weren¡¯t such a serious setting, I would have found it amusing.


    Instead, I strode forward as the dwarves all around slowly pulled themselves uncertainly to their feet, hammers and tools in hand.


    ¡°So,¡± I said amicably to the suspicious look from Jotilda Shintstone, ¡°My name is Toren Daen. It seems we¡¯ve been stuck together for the foreseeable future,¡± I said, holding out a gloved hand for her to shake.


    Elder Shintstone looked down at my hand, then back up to the mask on my face. ¡°Aye,¡± she said stiffly. ¡°It seems we have been, Alacryan.¡±


    Well, I should have expected a degree of hostility.


    Seeing as she wouldn¡¯t shake my hand, I withdrew it awkwardly with a sigh. Business only, then. ¡°I¡¯m going to need a basic rundown on the current status of your operations,¡± I said with a bit more sternness. ¡°If I¡¯m going to be your connection to Scythe Seris, you¡¯ll have to afford me that, regardless of how you feel about me.¡±


    Jotilda barked a gruff snort, her armored body rippling from grim mirth. ¡°I guess I cannot deny you that, Lord Daen,¡± she said, turning on her boots. ¡°Follow me, if you can.¡±


    I followed after Jotilda as she began to march away, the many men and women around us gradually returning to their work. She marched up a winding stone pathway, the two of us drawing eyes as we went.


    I imbued a bit of mana into a certain part of my mask, allowing the armor to quickly retreat back into its pendant form. Jotilda spared me a look as the armor retreated, vanishing as if it were never there. I simply raised a brow until she huffed again, stomping back along the pathway.


    ¡°We are making bunkers and barracks now,¡± Jotilda started, pointing a finger at a few working dwarves nearby. ¡°When Elder Rahdeas sent us to meet up with your incursion, we expected you all to have basic amenities and survivability in a cave. But apparently, that¡¯s what we are here for, because you Alacryans couldn¡¯t make something nice out of a cave even if a tunnel worm bit you on the arse.¡°


    I tilted my head as I endured the stares of the many dwarves around us. ¡°Are you always this blunt with your hostility?¡± I asked lightly. ¡°I have the distinct impression that you¡¯re going out of your way to add a barb with every sentence you speak.¡±


    ¡°You noticed that, did you?¡± Jotilda said a little caustically. ¡°Now, we¡¯re getting somewhere,¡± she said, pushing on. ¡°I am not under your command, Lord Daen. It is Elder Rahdeas I serve for his vision for the dwarven people. I don¡¯t follow your orders.¡±


    I stopped on the pathway, forcing Jotilda to do the same. We stood along a narrow strip, a long, steep fall stretching to either side of us. ¡°I¡¯m not demanding you follow my orders,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°But I also won¡¯t let myself be constantly disrespected.¡±


    I¡¯d grown accustomed to keeping my power contained with such precision that only the most adept could sense my mana, hoarding each mote of mana with a jealous grasp. My constant assimilation of energy throughout both my body and mind had further enhanced this power, as I needed to maintain a constant state of mana spread across my limbs. Thus I could understand that this woman might have thought me a pushover, considering she could sense nothing from my core.


    But I allowed a little bit of my true intent to flow along the ambient mana as I slightly loosed those restraints. ¡°I am here to work with you, Elder Shintstone, not exchange hidden knives with our words for eternity,¡± I said, my words punctuated by the ambient mana flexing slightly. I noted how the dwarven woman¡¯s hand inched toward an axe on her belt, her eyes widening as she sensed a modicum of what I could do.


    Then I pulled my power back in, holding it in constant stasis once more. ¡°We are allies in this war, not enemies. And I came here to treat you as one, not fight every inch of the way.¡±


    I stared down the dwarven elder for a beat more before she barked another bassy laugh. ¡°Stones, you aren¡¯t lying, are you?¡± she said, shaking her head. Then she turned back around, looking toward the path once more. ¡°Come along, then. We have around a hundred dwarves stationed in this hideout,¡± she grunted. ¡°Water, as always, is scarce. Food is sandshark jerky or whatever we can scavenge from the surroundings without leaving traces.¡±


    I listened to the woman as she explained the basic logistical statistics of this cavern. What they¡¯d been expecting, how long the dwarves had been there, and more. As we walked, I passed dwarves molding earth like putty, creating towers and intricate crenelations throughout the cavern.


    I felt a pang of pain in my gut as I watched a young dwarven man carve intricate designs into one of his walls. There wasn¡¯t a deep variance in color between all the stones used, yet each of the dwarves was able to use perspective and shadows as if they were natural.


    Hofal would have loved this, I thought, my eyes tracing the designs. An entirely new style of architecture for him to learn and explore.


    ¡°Are you gonna spend the rest of the day staring, Lord Daen?¡± Elder Shintstone said from a ways further down the path. ¡°Or are you going to move your arse?¡±


    I shook my head, wrenching my head away from the scene. The wounds of both Hofal and Karsien¡¯s death were still raw and tender; each reminder sending pangs through my heart. And Greahd¡­


    I needed to refocus myself. Pull my attention away.


    I pointed at a group of dwarves as they hammered their way through a cave wall, moving at an astounding pace as the rock seemed to melt away from their touch.


    ¡°How exactly do you decide where to make your tunnels?¡± I asked. ¡°You certainly need to worry about structural stability and potential collapse along these tunnels, but you seem to be doing just fine.¡±


    Jotilda snorted again, something I realized was probably a habit of hers. ¡±Our magic isn¡¯t as limited as yours, Lord Daen. We can shape the earth to do whatever¨Cto be whatever¨Cwe need. If structural stability is your concern, then a further layer of bolstering earth can be conjured along the roof and sides.¡± She slammed a gauntleted fist against her breastplate. ¡°Never underestimate dwarven craft, Alacryan.¡±


    I chuckled slightly. ¡°I never did,¡± I said lightly. ¡°Seris sent me here for a reason, I promise.¡± S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The dwarven elder gave me a sideways glance. ¡°So, that scary woman is your master, then?¡±


    ¡°In a way,¡± I acknowledged lightly. ¡°She teaches me the blade and will be in command of me throughout this war, but I wouldn¡¯t call her my master, per se.¡±


    ¡°Interestin¡¯,¡± the old dwarven woman said, turning off the path so that we were closer to the cavern wall. ¡°From what the other Alacryans say, everything in your continent is based on the purity of blood and dedication to your Vritra, and you seem awfully reluctant to admit that she is your master.¡±


    ¡°And these dwarves are reluctant to see that the Vritra shall be their masters soon,¡± Aurora commented lightly in my head, mirroring my thoughts once again. ¡°How ironic.¡±


    We reached a squat tower that overlooked the rest of the cavern. Despite the slightly tongue-in-cheek nature of Jotilda Shintstone¡¯s comment, I did find myself thinking of Seris once more, questioning where exactly I currently stood with the Scythe. I wasn¡¯t exactly in a regular military position, so I had no real authority to command anyone. Simultaneously, I would be reporting directly to her, which gave me a level of political and precedential power that was rare.


    ¡°Your quarters are there, Lord Daen,¡± Elder Shintstone said, pointing a meaty finger up at the top of the tower. ¡°Gives you a good view of the rock.¡±


    I tilted my head, looking up at the dim tower. ¡°Before you go, Elder Shintstone,¡± I said, ¡°I want to know something.¡±


    The elder, who had begun to walk away, paused as she turned back to me. ¡°Aye, Lord Daen?¡±


    ¡°Why did you decide to rebel against your countrymen?¡± I asked. ¡°To choose Alacrya over Dicathen?¡±


    The woman snorted caustically, her intent flaring with anger. ¡°We didn¡¯t choose Alacrya, Lord Daen,¡± she said stiffly. ¡°We chose Darv. Have a good day.¡±


    The elder marched away. From how her mana sparked, I was worried her steps would collapse the short pathway up to this tower.


    I furrowed my brow as I watched her go, feeling as if I had misstepped somehow. Yet I hadn¡¯t said anything wrong, had I?


    I shook my head as I banished those thoughts. There were things I needed to do.


    ¡ª


    A few hours later, I sat cross-legged in my makeshift cavernous quarters. They were large; larger than my apartment way back in East Fiachra.


    My quarters, I thought with grim amusement. How amusing is it that I finally have a stable base, and it¡¯s only on the other continent?


    In the months since I¡¯d come to this world, I never truly had a solid base to call my own. Sometimes I slept within the Cistern in East Fiachra. Other times, I rented a room in an inn within the Relictombs. And still other times I simply camped within a zone that I was trekking through.


    I hadn¡¯t had a place to truly come back to for months.


    Aurora¡¯s songbird relic settled down nearby, the bronze soulmetal talons gripping the sturdy iron bars of a bedframe. ¡°This place is stifling,¡± she said with a hint of irritation. ¡°I know not how long I can stand this underground cavern. Without the kiss of the breeze. It is¡­ anathema to the way of the phoenix.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°I know,¡± I said. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, what I need to do next will take us out of these caverns.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s steampunk songbird tilted its head. ¡°You have plans to alter this world¡¯s future once more?¡± she pressed.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I breathed. ¡°But I need to make sure it''s possible, first. Run a few tests in the Beast Glades.¡±


    Thoughts of the future, however, drew my mind back to Arthur Leywin. The reincarnated King Grey, pulled to this world as an anchor for greater things.


    It was surreal, brushing so close to the man who was my point of view for so many years. I withdrew my notes on The Beginning After the End from my dimension ring, absently flipping through the pages. If I were right about the timeline, Arthur¡¯s confrontation with Uto would happen only a few days from now. Then he¡¯d go on a two-month training spree with his elders.


    I read through my coded words, feeling a strange sort of melancholy as I deciphered them in my head.


    Lance Olfred slain by Lance Aya north of the town of Ashber, I read, noting my neat handwriting. Aya may have felt remorse. Olfred had no thoughts of regret in his death, only respect for Aya.


    ¡°Before I came to this world,¡± I said after a moment, ¡°I loved stories so, so much. I loved growing into the shoes of a character, watching them change, adapt, and fail, just so they could succeed later on,¡° I said quietly. The darkness in this entire cavern seemed to swallow me whole. ¡°But now, I am faced with the reality that it wasn¡¯t just a character. I hate Agrona for what he did to my mind, Aurora. Even more for what he did to yours. But I know the deepest thoughts and fears of so many people I may never meet, simply because of a book. It is¡­ discomforting.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s puppet fluttered over to my shoulder, landing there and allowing her talons to dig into my shirt. Though her claws were razor sharp, my bond was somehow able to stop the little construct from shredding my clothes with a bare touch.


    ¡°It is a burden you must bear,¡± she said quietly. ¡°It is not the same as Agrona though, I assure you. Were you to return to your old world, would you continue to read this novel of yours, knowing what you do now?¡±


    I shifted uncomfortably. ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°I still am not sure how TurtleMe gained such knowledge of this world. Or what he did.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s feathers ruffled, a sound like a dozen knives sharpening echoing out. ¡°Truthfully, my bond, I am not sure I wish to know.¡± She paused. ¡°I think¡­ I think it best we never know.¡±


    I looked out at the milling dwarves down below, feeling a strange sense of cold spread across my body.

 Chapter 178: Rising Animosity

    Toren Daen


    I frowned at the three-pointed array as I stared at it using my Acquire Phase, tapping a foot in irritation. In front of me, three spots of blood created a positive feedback loop that glowed with a simple silver light streaked through with fuschia-tinged ochre.


    Mana and lifeforce both swirled around from point to point. The mana somehow seemed more charged, each bit of energy bouncing off the points like a ball thrown against a wall at an angle. Its triangular flow around the array held a strange sort of allure as the silver sheen oscillated.


    But my heartfire seemed to flow within and without the mana, utterly ignoring it as it pulsed in a controlled rhythm from blood spot to blood spot. Not the rigid bouncing of the silver energy all around it, but more of a tranquil stream that burbled over bumps.


    It had taken a gamble for me to finally manage to ignite my lifeforce to flow from point to point. I couldn¡¯t activate it remotely like Circe Milvew could: instead, I needed to connect a vein of my lifeforce to one point, then let a spark drop as if into gasoline.


    But it felt like I was fighting against myself when I tried to make this array. Fighting against my insight, even if I¡¯d managed a workabout way to make it work. I¡¯d treated the spots of blood as if they were a human body, drawing on the insight I¡¯d gained from attaching Sevren¡¯s prosthetic.


    Yet it wasn¡¯t complete.


    While I¡¯d finally managed to maneuver my lifeforce into coursing around the array, it still failed to interact with or affect the mana in any way. It seemed I still couldn¡¯t replicate the true effects Circe Milview had managed with her array and lifespan.


    ¡°Do not be so discouraged, my bond,¡± Aurora¡¯s puppet said from the side, observing the triangular flow. ¡°Remember that heartfire almost never interacts with mana. You do not have a basis for this, and you are working with half the pieces. But¡­¡±


    ¡°But?¡± I pushed, sensing my bond¡¯s hesitance.


    ¡°There may be something that emulates this, though I know not for certain,¡° my bond said. ¡°The artifacts that empower and bind each Lance of Dicathen to their respective monarchs were created in a joint effort between my brother and Lord Indrath.¡±


    I turned to my bond, my eyebrows raising as I considered this information. The Lances were supposedly stronger than your average white core mage due to the strengthening effects of those artifacts. And if those strengthening effects were somehow achieved with lifeforce¡­


    ¡°Do you know how they work?¡± I asked, feeling a bit of giddy hope. ¡°If so, then¡­¡±


    Aurora sadly shook the avian head of her puppet. ¡°Unfortunately not, Toren. I will admit that at the time, I did not find your races¡­ worth my time. What Mordain did to assist Kezess in strengthening the peoples of Dicathen had nothing to do with me. And afterward, I never got a true chance to ask, as Mordain discovered the true fate of the djinn as he delivered the relics. Our clan fled Epheotus not long after.¡±


    I frowned, cataloging this story. Yet talks of Mordain and his flight made me think of something else.


    ¡°Hey, Aurora?¡± I asked solemnly, stepping away from the array of mana and lifeforce. I moved back toward the bed I¡¯d slept in last night, slumping into the surprisingly soft mattress. ¡°Do you want to go to the Hearth? I mean¡­ you could speak to your brother again. Your son, Chul. It would be good for them to know you¡¯re alive.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s relic slowly stopped moving, gradually becoming still as a statue. And after a moment, the Unseen World washed over my vision. My phoenix bond, in her martial robes and with a hole over her heart, looked at me with a deeply complicated expression.


    ¡°I have considered such action,¡± she said both over my mind and aloud. ¡°But no matter how much it pains me, I¡­ I cannot. You are not ready to brave the depths of the Beast Glades to seek my Hearth. The monsters within the deepest depths can pose a challenge to even a young asura should they let their guard down.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling a bit guilty for my weakness. Aurora, sensing my slight shame, chuckled in amusement. ¡°Worry not, Toren. We still have time for you to grow. One day, I shall speak to my family again. But¡­¡±


    I watched as my bond¡¯s expression fell slightly, a trace of a deeper emotion seeping over our bond. ¡°What is it, Aurora?¡± I asked, sensing her trepidation as I stepped forward. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°It is nothing, Toren, just¨C¡±


    My bond¡¯s words were interrupted by a sharp, angry yell, audible only due to my enhanced hearing. It cut through the moment like jagged scissors through paper, forcing my attention away from my bond.


    And suddenly, I could feel a wash of furious intent that I¡¯d somehow tuned out earlier. Over a dozen rumbling mana signatures contributed to the feeling of burning anger that churned in the atmosphere.


    My eyes widened in surprise as I lurched off the bed, the Unseen World vanishing from my eyes. I darted to the open window¨Cnone of the Darvish structures had glass¨Cand peered out, focusing mana into my eyes as I immediately honed in on the source of the disturbance.


    Not far away, a group of dwarves faced off with a dozen Alacryan soldiers. I couldn¡¯t make out their features exactly from this distance, but I could sense the anger surging through the dwarves and the contempt radiating from the Alacryans.


    Damn it, I thought, recognizing how close the two sides were to direct conflict. I shouldn¡¯t have let my attention slip!


    I jumped out of the window, rocketing off the stone sill with a burst of telekinesis. As I approached, my enhanced eyes were able to note as the lead dwarf¨CJotilda Shintstone, snarled as she shifted her hand to her axe. The opposing man¨Cclearly a highborn Alacryan, considering his proper dress and haughty upturn of his chin¨Cfeathered his hand against a dagger strapped to his hip.


    The noble, with an arrogant sneer on his face, opened his mouth.


    And I arrived, skidding to a halt opposite from the two crowds. The sound of my skidding boots drew the attention of both groups, each looking at me in turn. My skid turned into an agitated walk as I moved forward, looking between both the dwarves and the Alacryans. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°What is happening here?¡± I demanded, still sensing the anger radiating from each side. My brow knitted in irritation as I looked at both leaders. ¡°Explain to me. Both of you.¡±


    The noble spoke first, puffing out his chest. ¡±These dwarves were complaining of their lack of strength,¡± he said. ¡°So we mentioned that they¡¯d have strength aplenty once they bore proper blood. This geriatric dwarf didn¡¯t like the truth, so she started getting up in our faces.¡±


    Jotilda¡¯s face twisted into a furious scowl as she opened her mouth to retort, but I cut her off. ¡°We speak one at a time,¡± I ground out, flexing my mana. Though it irritated me to do so, I did need to listen to both sides. Even if I disliked the pompous man at the front immediately. The dwarves rustled angrily, but there was naught they could do.


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t inform me?¡± I pushed. ¡°Why are you so quick to fight our allies, lieutenant?¡±


    I could make out the lieutenant¡¯s mark on his doublet, alongside another symbol that I could swear was familiar. Furthermore, the make of his clothes was of a higher quality than most present, marking him as someone of import.


    The highblood youth squared off with me, his eyes narrowing. ¡°It¡¯s not our fault you don¡¯t keep your dwarves on a tighter leash, Daen.¡±


    I felt my brows raise at the obvious disrespect. Sensing it, too, many of the dwarves had begun to back off, watching the interplay between me and this lieutenant, though just as many grew even more furious at the fool¡¯s insinuation.


    I stared at the man. He stared back.


    ¡°What is your name, lieutenant?¡± I asked calmly, tilting my head much as Aurora usually did.


    ¡°Kiel of Highblood Patamoor,¡± he said, raising his sharp chin higher. ¡°Considering you¡¯re the only member of a Named Blood, you should know exactly where we stand.¡±


    Unbidden, I felt my lips stretch into a grin as the man said those words. Patamoor again, huh? ¡°You have no idea who I am, do you?¡± I said, unconsciously projecting a bit of my amusement into my intent.


    I noticed more than a few of the soldiers around Kiel Patamoor backing away, their faces draining of color. Kiel didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°I know you arrived yesterday,¡± he said, ¡°And Scythe Seris set you on pet duty. And my father¡¯s told me of your petty little music concerts, too. All in all, not much of anything, are you?¡± he goaded. ¡°The best you could do was get High Vicar Varadoth¡¯s attention, according to my father.¡±


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    I noticed a familiar face in the crowd of slowly retreating nobles. Lusul Hercross, the Named Blood boy who led the string orchestra in Central Academy, swallowed visibly. His dark skin was layered with a bit of sweat, and his nearly-pink eyes were focused on me.


    After a moment to think, it made sense. How long had this noble been stuck in these caverns? How often did he get news updates from Alacrya? And to be fair, I doubted Kiel¡¯s family wanted to tell him the truth of what happened after I got Varadoth¡¯s attention.


    I took a single step forward, allowing my intent to dip into something deeper for a bare instant. ¡°Varadoth is dead,¡± I said seriously, feeling what little amusement I felt at this petty boy¡¯s attempt at ruffling my feathers dissipate. ¡°I was there when his head was separated from his shoulders.¡±


    On instinct, Kiel Patamoor stepped backward, his face shifting into something uncertain. He opened his mouth to speak again, but one of his lackeys rushed forward, grabbing him by the arm and hurriedly whispering into his ears, a smattering of fear on their face. From the muttered words I could catch¨Cnamely, ¡®Plaguefire,¡¯ ¡®Mardeth,¡¯ and ¡®Doctrination¡¯--I had a feeling he¡¯d be regretting his words very, very shortly.


    Overhead, Aurora¡¯s relic drifted down on bladed wings, settling over my shoulder and peering at Kiel with her burning eyes.


    I exhaled, turning to Jotilda as Kiel¡¯s face slowly lost more and more color, each word entering his ear seeming to drain a bit more of his lifeforce. ¡°And what exactly, according to you, happened here?¡± I said.


    Jotilda''s wrinkled face warily noted the growing fear in Kiel Patamoor¡¯s face before turning to me. ¡°We broke into a new cavern last night,¡± she grunted slowly. ¡°But it¡¯s a big one, with more than a few branching tunnels. We need an expeditionary force to map it out and wipe out any lurking mana beasts within.¡± The dwarven elder¡¯s lips curled up as a bit of anger entered her intent once more. ¡°And those bastards thought our lack of numbers meant lack of strength, but they¡¯ve clearly never tasted dwarven steel before,¡± she snarled.


    The dwarves behind her churned in agreement. And from the picture I was putting together, Kiel Patamoor was beyond an idiot. The dwarves outnumbered the Alacryan soldiers in this cavern nearly four to one, and they were on their home turf. If a fight truly broke out, I could easily see his little group getting overwhelmed.


    I nodded slowly, thinking I had a solid idea of what had happened. Jotilda had been speaking to the dwarves about who she could pull away from their work, and Kiel had retorted with unsavory remarks that pushed each group nearly to blows.


    I thought for a moment. ¡°And how many people would you need for a theoretical expedition to clear out this cavern?¡± I pressed, an idea coming to mind.


    Jotilda looked unsure. ¡°I was hoping for a few yellow core mages familiar with the tunnels,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Don¡¯t know what¡¯s down there. Tunnel worms, depth bats, gallow spiders¡­ Anything¡¯s possible in those caves. We need to be able to face an S-class mana beast if we cross one.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, a plan solidifying in my mind. ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡±


    I turned to Kiel once more, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. He, in turn, was deathly silent as he held his breath, more than a little fear leaking through his intent. Evidently, his friend had finished explaining to him the Plaguefire Incursion.


    ¡°If you wish to create amicable relations between dwarf and Alacryan, you cannot have such a man in control here,¡± Aurora whispered into my ear, her clockwork construct whirring simultaneously. ¡°Act accordingly.¡±


    ¡°How many men are under your command, Patamoor?¡± I asked, following my bond¡¯s train of thought.


    ¡°Twenty-three,¡± he answered stiltedly. He looked very much like he wanted to run, but there wasn¡¯t exactly anywhere for him to run to. ¡°Twenty-three total, my lord.¡±


    Getting the answer I was looking for, I inspected the crowd behind Kiel, my eyes finding the one person I was looking for. ¡°Lusul Hercross,¡± I said, calling the young man, ¡°Come forward.¡±


    The man¡¯s pink eyes were blown wide as he stepped forward uncertainly. He¡¯d mentioned offhandedly that his father wanted him to go to war with the Dicathians, to beat some savages.


    And while I didn¡¯t like that motivation, I¡¯d rather the danger I knew, and I suspected Lusul would be slower to start any sort of fight or voice what negative opinions he had.


    ¡°Would you like to be a lieutenant leading twenty-three people, Lusul?¡± I asked casually.


    The young man blinked, clearly surprised by my offer. Behind him, Kiel Patamoor flushed red with anger.


    ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± he snapped, stepping forward and revving his mana. ¡°I earned my position, Daen! You can¡¯t just¨C¡±


    ¡°And you lost it, too,¡± I said simply, staring the man down as I squared my stance. ¡°If you go into battle beside these dwarves, do you want to be the man who alienated them? Who made them second-guess protecting your back, because you clearly wouldn¡¯t do the same?¡±


    I looked over the present soldiers, who shuffled uncertainly. ¡°The dwarves are our allies, not our enemies. Not ¡®lessers.¡¯ So you¡¯ll treat them as such, not as punching bags for your amusement. Am I clear?¡±


    Eventually, Kiel lowered his head in shame, stepping back, the wind taken from his sails.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± I heard Lusul say after a moment. ¡°I¡¯d be honored to lead,¡± he said, puffing out his chin.


    ¡°He will be indebted to you for his position,¡± Aurora added, thinking more politically. ¡°Which makes him bound to act more as you wish. Because if you can grant such a position, you can take it away just as easily.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll send a message to Seris in a moment to solidify this,¡± I said. If I explained my reasoning, I was sure Seris would ratify this action, even if I wasn¡¯t given express military command. She¡¯d told me to ensure cooperation and understanding between dwarves and Alacryans, and that started with taking those like Kiel from power.


    I turned to Jotilda. ¡°Does that satisfy you?¡±


    The woman nodded slowly, her armor clanking. ¡°It does,¡± she said slowly, seeming uncertain. ¡°If I were you, I would have whooped his arse, but I suppose this¡¯ll do, too.¡±


    I shrugged as the crowds slowly began to disperse, each person muttering and talking to themselves. I caught a few thankful nods from the dwarves, but to my surprise, a great number turned away in irritation when I tried to meet their eyes.


    This will take time, I reminded myself. Hopefully, once they see my sincerity, I¡¯ll start to make some headway.


    ¡°I learned from a very, very smart woman that some of the largest problems are best solved without punching things,¡± I said, thinking of Seris¡¯ confrontation with Mardeth in his temple. ¡°But speaking of punching things, are you still recruiting for that tunnel expedition?¡±


    Jotilda turned to face me fully, her brow creasing. ¡°And if I was?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d ask if gallow spiders have more than four legs,¡± I said seriously, looking at the dwarven woman.


    ¡°They¡¯re spiders,¡± she replied, as if I were insane.


    ¡°Then I volunteer my assistance in fighting whatever beasts get in your way.¡± I shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°I can take any S-class monsters that get in your way if that¡¯s what the ultimate problem is.¡±


    Anything with more than four legs¨Cor less than two, for that matter¨Cshould be exterminated.


    Jotilda looked about ready to protest, but then she looked at the Alacryans who still eyed me nervously. ¡°We need all the help we can get,¡± the aged dwarf said with a grunt. ¡°But make no mistake, Alacryan. The tunnels are dark and dangerous. If you want to survive, you¡¯ll follow my lead.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Leave the experts to their work. Got it,¡± I said simply.


    Jotilda scoffed, turning on her heels. ¡°Better hope you can do more than speak pretty words, Lord Daen,¡± she said back. ¡°Or you¡¯ll find the noose of a gallow spider around your throat.¡±


    ¡ª


    I pulled my glove over the chain tattoo on my hand, covering the red mark from the firelight. I flexed my hand, hearing the mana beast leather creak with a satisfying sound.


    I stood near where the new cavern system had been unearthed, a tunnel stretching before me into darkness. Aurora¡¯s puppet had been phased back into its brooch form, which was pinned to my chest.


    I had tied my hair in a half-up, half-down style, my locks brushing my shoulders. I was wearing a long-sleeved gray tunic and loose black pants, designed to be more breathable in the stifling air of the underground. Overtop my shirt, I wore a solid maroon vest that was tied off with a dark belt, allowing me a semblance of familiarity even if the make and style were more rugged than the classy look I was used to.


    ¡°You got no weapon, Alacryan?¡± I heard a familiar gruff voice say behind me. ¡°Are we going to have to protect your sorry arse?¡±


    I turned, raising a skeptical brow as I looked at Jotilda. She was wearing a helmet that covered everything but her face, allowing her long, gray braid to trail down the back of her plated armor. She must have been sweltering in that metal, but she showed absolutely no sign of discomfort along her stocky features.


    Behind her, two more dwarves trailed mutely. One had a long orange beard that stretched down to his pot belly, a stern look on his face as he hefted a mace over his shoulder. The other had hair as black as pitch with a scruffy, forked mustache that covered his mouth entirely. From how bushy his eyebrows were, I couldn¡¯t make out any sort of expression on his face. A meaty crossbow was strapped to his back.


    From what I could sense, both were around the light orange stage of core development, while Jotilda herself was a solid yellow core.


    With a flourish, I withdrew Inversion from my dimension ring. I¡¯d ornamented the dagger-shaped horn, wrapping it in a solid leather grip. I twirled the white horn through my hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got the weapon I need right here,¡± I said, slotting it into my belt in one deft motion. ¡°Before we go, though, what exactly will our roles be?¡±


    Jotilda''s hand rested solidly on the axe in her belt. ¡°These two are Borzen and Gruhnd, augmenter and conjurer,¡± she said gruffly. ¡°That means striker and caster, but more versatile than anything you can do. And you¡¯re going to stay in the middle and not mess this up.¡±


    I sighed internally at the dwarven elder¡¯s continued hostility. ¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°The best case scenario is that I¡¯m not needed in the first place anyway.¡±


    The dwarf with hair like a scraggly bush said something, but it was muffled and incoherent from his facial hair. Jotilda shook her head, while the fiery-haired mace-wielder nodded sternly.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Gruhnd,¡± the mace-wielder said. ¡°But it¡¯s not like we have a choice. Those were Elder Rahdeas¡¯ orders. And you know him.¡±


    Jotilda marched past me, setting me in the center of their formation. ¡°Borzen has a point,¡± she said, referencing the orange-haired dwarf with a pot belly, ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we need to show it. We have a job to do here.¡±


    I raised a hand quietly. ¡°Might I ask what you¡¯re talking about?¡± I hedged, feeling confused. I couldn¡¯t understand Gruhnd¡¯s words at all, but the two dwarves nearby seemingly could.


    They ignored me as they began marching toward the tunnel, forcing me to lower my hand uncertainly as I trailed along.

 Chapter 179: Gallow Spiders and Shallow Graves

    Toren Daen


    I walked with the three dwarves, Aurora¡¯s relic stashed away in its brooch form. As we stepped into the pervading blackness, I instinctively raised a hand, summoning a small candleflame over my palm to provide light. It cast the nearby walls in flickering shadow as it peeled back the darkness like a veil.


    Almost immediately, Jotilda turned around, glaring at me. ¡°Snuff it, Alacryan,¡± she said sharply. ¡°No lights! That tells everything we¡¯re hopin¡¯ to hunt that we¡¯re coming. And no sound once we step deeper into the chasms, either.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, clenching my hand around the flame and snuffing it in a single gesture. ¡°Okay,¡± I said slowly, ¡°But how are we going to direct ourselves without being able to see?¡±


    Behind me, Borzen knocked his mace against the tunnel walls. ¡°We¡¯re not so limited as you, Alacryan,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°We dwarves¨Cthose of us with tunnel legs¨Ccan navigate these chasms without sight. Just need someone with an earth affinity to send pulses into the ground first.¡±


    Gruhnd said something else, but once again, I couldn¡¯t understand a lick of it due to the beard blocking his face. It sounded like someone was speaking from under a thick blanket.


    Borzen nodded sternly. ¡°Exactly, brother,¡± he said seriously.


    I blinked. Okay, then. ¡°Well, if we aren¡¯t moving by light, then there¡¯s another way I can help,¡± I said, trying to find a way to contribute to this team, ¡°I can muffle every sound you make. No need to worry about misstepping or kicking a rock or something.¡±


    To accentuate my point, I enveloped us in a sound barrier that covered us all. I brought my foot up, then smashed it against the ground. Cracks spread from beneath my boot, but no sound escaped.


    Gruhnd¡¯s bushy brows rose ever-so-slightly as he looked at the cracked ground. Borzen nodded slowly, seeming to consider this usefulness. Jotilda, however, merely narrowed her eyes.


    ¡°Don¡¯t trip over your own feet, Alacryan,¡± she said as she turned, prepared to move deeper into the tunnels. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want you giving us away.¡±


    ¡ª


    The four of us walked through pitch-black darkness, slowly maneuvering through the downward-sloping tunnel. I couldn¡¯t see a foot in front of my face, and I found myself relying heavily on my sense of hearing to navigate without falling or misstepping. Considering the narrow corridors we weaved through and the uneven surfaces we had to swerve through, it was a constant struggle.


    ¡°There is a jutting rock not far from your current position,¡± Aurora said into my mind. Her shade wasn¡¯t so limited in senses as I was, and her input had saved me more than a few embarrassing falls. ¡°Step around it.¡±


    Thank you, I said back to my bond as I avoided said rock. Somehow, the dwarves around me seemed to have natural senses for these things, moving through the darkness without a single lick of hesitation or anxiety. I¡¯d used their steadily thumping heartfires as a way to gauge my location as well. I¡¯d also engaged my heat-vision spell, which outlined the dwarves around me in orange due to their heat signatures. That made it far easier to move as well, considering I could see where everyone else stepped.


    Every now and then, however, Jotilda would call a halt to our forward movement, then press a palm into the ground, theoretically casting a spell like Earth Sense to gauge the path forward.


    I should develop a sound spell like that, I thought. I haven¡¯t had to maneuver through dark spaces like this, but some sort of sonar spell would make this forward trek far easier.


    But the unending silence was starting to scrape away at my nerves. ¡°Say, Jotilda,¡± I said, shifting my head so I didn¡¯t smash it into a jutting outcropping, ¡°How long have you been working in these tunnels? Was this a job before, or¡­?¡± Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Jotilda snorted in front of me. ¡°Not the time for talking right now, Alacryan,¡± she reprimanded. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to miss anything. Don¡¯t distract me.¡±


    I sighed internally, but I was surprised to hear Borzen speak up next. ¡°There¡¯s not much harm in talking right now,¡± he said, and for the first time, I sensed the nervousness he¡¯d been masking in his intent. ¡°Makes the old tunnel walk easier.¡±


    Jotilda grunted. ¡°Fine,¡± she admitted. ¡±I¡¯ve been a tunnel scourer all my life. It¡¯s been my job for decades to clear out these caverns of mana beasts for settlement, exploration, and more. It¡¯s an art you humans can¡¯t seem to figure out.¡±


    I tilted my head, hearing a water droplet as it splashed against the ground far ahead. ¡°Well, I certainly haven¡¯t seen your mastery of earth magic back home. Most of our urban centers are above ground, to start with.¡±


    The dwarven elder in front of me snorted. ¡°Course they are. But I want to know now, Alacryan. What did you do before popping up in our country?¡±


    I hummed. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a very broad question,¡± I started. ¡°Mostly, I was an ascender day in and day out.¡±


    I heard Gruhnd say something through his bushy beard that had a questioning cadence to it. Though I couldn¡¯t make out what he said, Borzen was a step ahead of me. ¡°Gruhnd wants to know what exactly an ascender is,¡± he said.


    I furrowed my brow, thinking of an appropriate analogy. ¡°Well, back in Alacrya, there are these interconnected pocket dimensions. Kind of like the dungeons that litter the Beast Glades here, except arguably more dangerous. You go from zone to zone, similar to your adventurers, and try to scrape accolades and loot from each part. Ascenders, by and large, have been made exempt from participating in this war, though.¡± I paused, feeling a melancholy note. ¡°That¡¯s very lucky for your continent. Our strongest mages are our ascenders. If our High Sovereign truly cared about this war, he¡¯d send them, not puffed-up idiots like Patamoor. But I suppose it''s more interesting if there¡¯s actually a fight,¡± I said with a note of irritation.


    ¡°So what, you¡¯re saying your continent is so much better than Darv that he could just snap his asuran fingers and roll us over?¡± Borzen asked, sounding affronted by my words. ¡°He clearly hasn¡¯t faced the grit of dwarves,¡± he said, sticking up for his countrymen.


    I turned to look at the dwarf behind me. I knew my eyes glowed slightly in the pitch darkness due to my heat vision spell, and I felt the anxiety in Borzen¡¯s intent surface as I stared at him. ¡°The grit of your people has little to do with it, Borzen,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°Agrona doesn¡¯t want your people or your land. He wants to get to Epheotus, where all the other asura are. This war is a game to him to meet his true goal.¡±


    Borzen shifted uncomfortably for a moment before I turned my gaze forward once more.


    ¡°I ¡®spose tunnel scouring was not all I did,¡± Jotilda spoke up, cutting through the silence. ¡°I was sent off to fight the elves when Sapin got all uppity with Elenoir all those decades ago. Fought a few battles. Won some. Lost some more. But I learned something important there, Alacryan. Never underestimate a soldier fighting for their homeland.¡±


    I suppressed an irritated scoff. That was what literally everyone else did while these rebel dwarves let the Alacryans in. They made it easier for the imperialistic takeover of Dicathen as a whole. And if this woman had fought alongside the humans of Sapin, I didn¡¯t understand why she would sell out her continent to Agrona.


    ¡°It sounds to me like you¡¯re supporting the Triunion Council with those words,¡± I said, keeping my voice neutral. ¡°Considering we are the invaders, which you are helping.¡±


    Jotilda didn¡¯t stop moving, but I could sense a quiet anger in her intent. ¡°We fight for our homeland too. Most just don¡¯t realize it yet.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, about to respond, when Jotilda suddenly stopped. She moved forward, and in what little light I could see, I could tell she was running her hands along the cavern walls. ¡°There¡¯s slight scoring along these walls,¡± she said quietly, even though my sound barrier was still up. ¡°Looks like it was caused by the legs of a gallows spider. Expect them up ahead.¡±


    Behind me, Gruhnd unstrapped his crossbow, muttering something. Borzen hefted his mace as he revved his mana, preparing for an upcoming fight.


    My hand brushed Inversion at my belt as I honed in further on my sense for heartfire. My telekinetic shroud¨Cwhich I wore at all times by second nature now¨Cglistened slightly as I funneled more mana into it.


    We were far more cautious as we stepped forward. I wasn¡¯t nervous, but I could sense the anxiety of Gruhnd and Borzen behind me.


    And gradually, I heard over a dozen quickly pulsing heartfires ahead, each brushing against my eardrum like the sweep of a broom. There was a turn in the path up ahead that masked their heat signatures from my sight.


    ¡°Their nooses hang like tainted ornaments,¡± Aurora said in my ear, clearly seeing the waiting traps. ¡°Watch yourself, Toren.¡±


    Silently, I tapped Jotilda on the shoulder. She turned to me, an irritated cast to her face before I pointed at the ceiling far above us. ¡°About twenty I can sense around that corner,¡± I said quietly. ¡°All on the ceiling, waiting silently.¡±


    Jotilda narrowed her eyes, then gestured to Gruhnd behind me. He quietly mumbled a chant before a long, thin rod of metal appeared over his crossbow, compacted of mana.


    Gruhnd said something in a challenging tone, hefting his crossbow and aiming upward.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll tell ya when to shoot,¡± Jotilda said, inching forward. ¡°Move forward slowly. And don¡¯t let the bastards escape.¡±


    The dwarven elder held up a hand, her stocky fingers slowly counting down. Three, two, one¡­


    Our group burst around the corner, our weapons ready. Jotilda pointed at a spot far along the ceiling, and Gruhnd immediately fired his crossbow in that direction.


    The bolt whizzed out of my perception, skating into the darkness. For a moment, nothing happened.


    Then the crossbow bolt hit the ceiling just past the glowing heated outlines of the gallows spiders. It exploded into a massive sphere of shrapnel and metal, blocking the thin passage further ahead.


    ¡°Now they can¡¯t retreat further into the tunnels!¡± Jotilda bellowed, slamming her axe into the nearby wall. The cavern rippled, a shockwave rumbling up the side that somehow enlarged to form a barrier behind us. ¡°The gallows spiders are trapped here with us! Kill them, lads!¡±


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    The dim tunnel erupted into a hundred different clashing sounds as spiders fell and chittered in the darkness. I settled into a solid defensive stance as the mana-laden arachnids tried to swarm us, using intermittent bursts of telekinetic punches to crater carapace and snap legs.


    Borzen yelled as his mace¨Ccoated in a thin sheen of fire¨Csmashed against a falling spider. The thing shot off with a pathetic screech like some sort of demented baseball, smoke streaming from its shattered body.


    Gruhnd bellowed as he fired shot after shot of conjured metal at the displaced horde, his aim surprisingly pinpoint and accurate. In front of me, Jotilda swung her axe deftly, her body coated in a thick layer of earth that warded off the scraping mandibles of the spiders.


    I slipped to the side as a long, sticky rope barely missed my neck. At the end of the line, a webbed noose that was intended to cinch shut around my throat glistened slightly.


    With a sneer, I snapped my hand out, gripping the rope tightly. I felt the sticky, solid substance as it touched my gloves, but that was inconsequential.


    I sent a wave of sound magic along the tether of spiderweb, the vibrations traveling up the line in a cascading rumble. When it finally reached the top, I felt as my spell vibrated around the body of a spider on the ceiling, pulping its insides and causing it to fall limply.


    I let go of the web, a pulse of fire thrumming over my hand that burned away any remaining residue. I squinted into the darkness, seeing a few more hanging nooses that some of the spiders let down.


    I felt a smirk stretch along my face as I held out an arm, calling on my telekinetic emblem. A white sphere of pulling force drew a few of the nooses together, twisting and wrapping them around each other in a spiral.


    Then I grabbed the threads of rope once more. Funneling mana through my veins, my body¨Cstrengthened by both assimilation and my part-asuran physique¨Cswelled with power.


    I pulled my hand down. There was a brief moment of tension as the few mana beasts¨Ceach as large as my torso¨Ctried in vain to cling to the ceiling. But the raw might behind my pull compelled them utterly.


    They were wrenched from the ceiling, rocketing toward the floor in a wave of skittering limbs. As they fell, I thrust out my hand, releasing a burst of fireshot that intercepted them midair in streaks of orange light.


    Four corpses, all littered with smoking holes, hit the ground with a wet squelch.


    Jotilda lowered her axe as the battle slowly came to a close. The sounds of dying mana beasts and scent of burned arachnids filled the cave. I used a pulse of fire once more to burn away the sticky residue on my glove as I turned, making sure everything was good.


    Borzen brought his mace down on a gallows spider that hadn¡¯t quite kicked the bucket yet, splattering it with a squelch. He wiped a bit of insectoid guts from his beard, burning them away much as I had with the sticky residue. ¡°Damn spiders. Can never kill enough of these pests, and they always somehow come back.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re essential to the cavern ecosystems,¡± the dwarven elder said in response. ¡°Can¡¯t kill too many of them, either. And their silk is what makes so many dwarven creations the best on the continent.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Borzen replied grumpily. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean I have to like the buggers.¡±


    Gruhnd grunted out a few words I couldn¡¯t understand again. I turned to the dark-haired dwarf, about to ask a question, when my eyes widened in surprise.


    A single noose managed to loop its way around the dwarf¡¯s stocky neck, pulling tight and wrenching up into the air. Gruhnd¡¯s words were cut short as he dropped his crossbow, arcing up into the darkness and beyond the sight of the other dwarves.


    ¡°Mother Earth be damned!¡± Borzen cursed, rushing forward. Jotilda hissed, hefting her axe and looking into the darkness, trying to get an angle on whatever had managed to get him.


    But I was faster. Using both my heat vision and sense of heartfire, I knew where both Gruhnd and the gallows spider¨Cthe sole one remaining¨Cwere located.


    With a burst of telekinesis, I surged into the air after Gruhnd. I caught a flash of his bulging eyes as I swung a sound-shrouded Inversion at his throat.


    The webbing that cinched his neck parted with ease as the white horn of a basilisk sheared through it. The dwarf fell back down, a burble of words and what I suspected to be curses echoing from his mouth as Borzen rushed to catch him.


    I lashed myself to the cavern wall, then began to run upward as I honed in on the skittering thump of lifeforce far above. I felt as it tried to retreat, the gallows spider chittering in terror as it scurried along the ceiling.


    But I wouldn¡¯t allow that. With a forceful telekinetic pull, I wrenched the spider from where it was glued to the roof of the cave. It tumbled end over end as it fell, its eight legs¨Ceach as sharp as a dagger¨Cflailing wildly.


    I twisted as it approached me, building power through my hips and legs as I threw a fire-coated hook at the thing. For an instant, the cavern was aglow with light. I saw a flash of eight beady eyes, scything fangs, and four-too-many legs, before my fist impacted the thing¡¯s abdomen.


    I followed through, slamming the spider against the tunnel wall with a sickening squelch. It practically exploded in a shower of fire and charred insectoid guts as my knuckles cratered the rock with a tremoring rumble.


    That was so damn satisfying, I thought, still standing on the wall as I flicked my hand free of charred spider goop. There was a vaguely spider-shaped outline of ash along the wall from what used to be a mana beast.


    ¡°I worry about your hatred for insects and such creatures, Toren,¡± Aurora said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. ¡°That last strike was excessive.¡±


    That¡¯s the only language these awful creatures understand, I added back with more than a little snark. Excessive force. To their faces.


    I leisurely walked back down the cavern wall, my feet anchored to the rock by a couple of telekinetic pulls. On the floor, Gruhnd was pulling off the noose that had gotten around his neck with help from Borzen. An unending stream of angry garbled sounds left the dark-haired dwarf¡¯s mouth as he struggled to remove the sticky residue from his mustaches.


    ¡°By the stone, Gruhnd,¡± Borzen said, sounding genuinely aghast. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard anything so foul in my entire life! If you want my help, stop saying such things right into my ear!¡±


    I blinked as the dwarf¡¯s unintelligible curses slowly simmered away into irritated grumbles. ¡°So, what exactly was he saying? I only got the words ¡®mother¡¯ and ¡®spider¡¯ from all that.¡±


    Gruhnd huffed, but Borzen shook his head, causing his long, fiery beard to sway. ¡°Some of the most disgusting cursin¡¯ I¡¯ve ever heard, Alacryan. Wouldn¡¯t repeat it, else your Agrona would use those words as weapons against our people, too.¡±


    I snorted in wry amusement. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I learned some good curses,¡± I said. ¡°I might have to ask him over a drink sometime.¡±


    Gruhnd puffed his chest out, clearly welcoming the challenge, while Borzen walked closer, slapping me hard on the shoulder. ¡°Damn good fightin¡¯ you did there, Alacryan. What did you say your name was again?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Toren of Named Blood Daen, though you can just call me Toren. And I am very, very prejudiced against spiders and the like. It was my pleasure to introduce their faces to the rock.¡±


    Gruhnd slapped me on the shoulder, saying something that sounded vaguely encouraging. I decided to take it as a compliment. He hefted his large crossbow¨Cwhich had some slight, glowing runes along the edge¨Cthen gestured to the horn I still clasped in my hand.


    Understanding his meaning, I held the horn up to allow the dwarf to inspect it. He murmured as his eyes traced the perfect structure, a trace of awe in his tone.


    ¡°Gruhnd¡¯s a blacksmith by trade, makin¡¯ magical weapons and armor,¡± Borzen said helpfully. ¡°He says he hasn¡¯t seen anything so strange in his life, even as a smith.¡±


    I flourished the horn, sheathing it back at my belt. ¡°Truth be told, I doubt you¡¯d see anything like it anywhere in the world.¡± I hesitated, unsure for a moment how much I wanted to say. ¡°It¡¯s the horn of a basilisk, altered by my own powers. Inverted, you could say.¡±


    Gruhnd¡¯s eyebrows rose so high they melded with his hair. Borzen whistled in surprise. ¡°No kidding,¡± he said, quietly. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you took it offa an asura yourself, lad. As strong as you seem, I know you didn¡¯t do that.¡±


    My smile settled into a more mirthful cast. ¡°Not off an asura, no. But I did take it off a priest with delusions of grandeur.¡±


    I continued to talk a bit with Gruhnd and Borzen as we gradually resumed our trek, asking them what would be done with the corpses around us. Borzen explained that a second group of tunnel scourers would come by once we were done to clean out all of the corpses and carcasses we¡¯d left behind, salvaging whatever they could.


    But even as we spoke, it was impossible to miss the glaring daggers of Jotilda¡¯s eyes.


    ¡ª


    We spent the rest of the day clearing out small pockets of gallows spiders, a few tunnel worms, and a school of strange fish that seemed to swim through the earth as if it were water. Borzen had called them ¡®stone-swimmers,¡¯ which was accurate enough. Now, though, we sat down around a small makeshift campsite deep underground, gnawing on rations and preparing to sleep in turns.


    ¡°Say, Toren?¡± Borzen started, munching on a brick of dried meat, ¡°Who exactly was that ¡®Varadoth¡¯ person? His name was what made that pompous noble nearly piss his silken britches when you spoke with¡¯em.¡±


    I paused, remembering the darkness of the Central Cathedral. An unending tide of black blood. The discordant ringing of Agrona¡¯s heartfire, and the empty void of Greahd¡¯s soul.


    The fire was silent for a moment as I buried those dark, dark thoughts. I couldn¡¯t let myself think too deeply on them.


    I slowly lowered my tube of protein paste, thinking about the question. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what passes for religion in your homeland,¡± I started, ¡°But back in Alacrya, we have the Doctrination. A state-led church endorsed by Agrona himself, designed to enforce the worship of the Vritra and distribution of magic among the people.¡±


    Gruhnd grunted something out, but I unfortunately still couldn¡¯t understand him. The dwarf didn¡¯t seem to mind, as Borzen happily translated. ¡°He wonders what ya mean by ¡®distribution of magic,¡¯¡± he said gruffly, a few crumbs getting tangled in his long orange beard. ¡°Magic just happens, doesn¡¯t it? You can¡¯t exactly control who does and doesn¡¯t manifest a core.¡±


    I tapped my finger against my leg. ¡°The ancestors of everyone in my continent were experimented on,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°Now, everyone is born with a core. But it¡¯s dormant; only able to be activated by an artifact that the High Sovereign allows only with his church and high-level officiants.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Regardless, the church¡¯s priests are called vicars. And Varadoth was the top; the High Vicar who spoke for Agrona himself.¡±


    I felt the grim attention of all three dwarves focus on me. Even Jotilda, who hadn¡¯t said a word throughout this entire conversation, seemed to recognize the gravity of what I spoke of. ¡°And after I killed another vicar¨Cthis one for nearly burning my home city to the ground¨CVaradoth challenged me to fight. To defend my soul.¡±


    The silence that followed my statement carried the weight of a grave. With my enhanced sense of hearing, I could hear the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere far ahead, the droplets splashing against the stone.


    I buried the images of Greahd¡¯s hauntingly empty eyes.


    ¡°Well?¡± Borzen asked at last, his anxiety palpable in his intent. ¡°What did ya do? Did you kill¡¯em? Fight to the death and whatnot?¡±


    I snorted, shaking my head. ¡°You saw Seris, didn¡¯t you? The Scythe. Well, she took offense to a man such as Varadoth challenging me, who was under her protection. So she accompanied me to the Central Cathedral in our centremost city.¡± I looked up at the dark ceiling, wishing once again I was under the stars and not beneath the earth. ¡°We left that cathedral with Varadoth¡¯s head in her hands.¡±


    Gruhnd shuddered slightly, saying something under his breath.


    ¡°Aye, that Scythe is terrifyin¡¯,¡± Borzen replied. ¡°I only saw her once, but I felt how cold she was. Her aura was enough to rip the breath from my lungs, and I could swear she looked at me with those empty eyes. Made me nearly piss myself.¡±


    I felt my brow crease. ¡°Seris isn¡¯t so bad,¡± I said, feeling a bit defensive. ¡°She can be harsh, true, but she does what she believes best for all.¡±


    ¡°You say that, Lord Daen,¡± Jotilda said, speaking for the first time. ¡°But how is that Scythe supposed to know what we dwarves need? How does she reckon our wants and needs, when all she¡¯s here to do is make war?¡±


    There was an uncomfortable silence after the dwarven elder¡¯s words. She¡¯d finally voiced the question, and it was my duty to answer it.


    ¡°That¡¯s my job,¡± I admitted after a moment. ¡°I was tasked by Seris to learn of dwarven culture, traditions, and beliefs. To make cooperation possible between us all.¡± I looked at each dwarf in turn, trying to convey my sincerity. ¡°After all, peace starts with understanding,¡± I hedged hopefully.


    Gruhnd frowned slightly in thought, while I caught Borzen nodding in slow agreement.


    But Jotilda¡¯s eyes burned angrily as she turned to face away from me. ¡°There¡¯s only one big cavern left tomorrow,¡± she said gruffly. ¡°I will take the first watch. All of you should get some sleep.¡±


    I felt my mood plummet at Jotilda¡¯s quiet rejection, wondering where I had gone wrong.

 Chapter 180: Echolocation

    Toren Daen


    I awoke in darkness, blinking the stars from my eyes. I felt a momentary flash of panic at the blackness before a soothing warmth caressed my mind.


    I sat up carefully, igniting a bare spark of fire over my palm for light. I blinked nervously as my eyes adjusted to the light.


    Thanks, I thought to my bond, sighing as I remembered where I was. The darkness of the tunnels was an encroaching thing. It almost seemed alive at times, the shadows clinging to your boots and whispering in your ears. If I wasn¡¯t careful, I could imagine going mad from life in these caves. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°It is no worry, Toren,¡± Aurora replied in my mind. ¡°I dislike this darkness, just as you do. I understand your anxiety.¡±


    Around me, the three dwarves were already preparing for departure, a solid resolve in each of their movements as they cinched on belts and tested their weapons. Borzen nodded at me as I awoke, and Gruhnd offered out a palm to help me up.


    I took his calloused hand gratefully, hauling myself to my feet. I gave him a thankful nod as I ran a hand through my hair, trying to tame it with my fingers.


    I¡¯d built a level of camaraderie with those two as the day went on yesterday. Protecting each other in the darkness had that kind of effect. If there wasn¡¯t a bit of trust, we wouldn¡¯t be able to trust our backs to the men at our side.


    But as the dwarven elder narrowed her eyes in my direction, I felt a bit of disappointment. It seemed that the more time I spent, the less Jotilda liked me.


    ¡°Not everyone will like you,¡± Aurora advised in my mind. ¡°That is an unavoidable fact of life, my bond.¡±


    I sighed, tying my hair back before taking a drink from a waterskin I kept stored in my dimension ring. I know, but I still have to work with the elder. I¡¯d like to understand where her dislike comes from, at least. Even if she doesn¡¯t like me, we both have a duty to keep Alacryan and dwarven relations civil.


    ¡°Then what are you going to do?¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, adjusting my clothes and brushing out a bit of dust. I allowed the small pinprick of fire to hover near me still, bathing me in gentle light. I¡¯ll do what everyone should do when they have some sort of conflict. I¡¯ll talk about it.


    ¡ª


    Our small group continued on through the cave, the firelight I created earlier allowing us to continue. Jotilda had explained that this deep into the caverns, we would be fighting stronger monsters than tunnel worms and gallows spiders. Earlier, she had forbidden me from any sort of light for fear of scaring away potential mana beasts or allowing them to ambush us.


    But now, that fear was pointless. Anything ahead would have nowhere to run, and my senses were sharp enough to protect from an ambush.


    A team of dwarven earth mages had used an advanced Earth Sense spell to get a rough estimate of the size of these branching caverns, and according to Jotilda Shintstone, we were nearing the end now. Once we cleared out whatever was left, we¡¯d be able to return to the main hideout.


    As before, Gruhnd and Borzen trailed behind me, keeping up the rear with steady eyes and even steadier hands. They¡¯d gained a few scrapes and bruises throughout this endeavor, but by and large, nobody had gotten more than a slight cut as we cleared out the tunnels.


    Ahead of me, the dwarven elder walked with rigid purpose, her plate boots clanking in tune with her step. I allowed none of that sound to actually echo into the air, of course, but I¡¯d realized that people found the sounds they made comforting, so I let them hear the familiar rustle of metal-on-metal.


    Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself, moving forward. As I did so, I altered the sound spell surrounding us all with an effort of will, striding next to Jotilda as she marched.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I started. ¡°Got any idea of what we can expect in this final stretch of cave?¡±


    The elderly woman furrowed her rigid gray brows. ¡°The final bits are always the hardest, Alacryan. So don¡¯t let your guard down by dilly-dallyin¡¯.¡±


    I raised my hands in a what-can-you-do manner. ¡°Look, Elder Jotilda, I don¡¯t know what about me is so irritating to you, but we¡¯re going to have to work together once we¡¯re done with this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t know, human,¡± Jotilda said, not turning to look at me. ¡°You seem so ready to inject yourself into the lives of us dwarves that you haven¡¯t stopped to ask if that¡¯s what we want.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°It was your Elder Rahdeas who decided to welcome us Alacryans,¡± I said, weathering the woman¡¯s anger. ¡°Not me and not you. But we have to live with that reality anyway. So even if you don¡¯t like me, could you at least pretend that we can get along?¡±


    Jotilda stopped, turning to me. She shoved a gauntleted finger into my chest. ¡°I can¡¯t do that, Alacryan. Do you know why?¡±


    I took a measuring breath, maintaining the calm layer of my emotions. ¡°No, I don¡¯t. That¡¯s why I¡¯m talking to you right now. To try and figure that out.¡±


    ¡°You think we¡¯re traitors, don¡¯t you?¡± Jotilda spat with narrowed eyes. ¡°You might talk nicer. Might put up an affable front and try to be friends. But you think the exact same thing that sneering noble did back in the cave. You think we sold out our continent to yours, don¡¯t you? That we¡¯re dogs with no loyalty at all. Lesser.¡±


    Borzen and Gruhnd behind us clearly felt uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but Jotilda and me as their intent radiated their emotions. I finally felt my forced composure crack as my neutral face shifted into a glare.


    Because Jotilda Shintstone was right. These dwarves were traitors. It was partially because of people like them that Dicathen fell so thoroughly to Alacrya in that otherworld novel. All the loss of life, all the brutality? It was all allowed by people such as these. Because the strength of a chain was determined solely by its weakest link.


    ¡°Nothin¡¯ to say, Alacryan?¡± Jotilda sneered, moving closer and staring up at me, her chin raised defiantly as her mana flared.


    I exhaled, trying to take back my emotions. To center myself. My breath came out as hot steam instead. ¡°I do not think that you are lesser,¡± I said, trying to diffuse this situation. ¡°I don¡¯t subscribe to the idea that purity of blood defines your innate worth as a being. That is measured by your ability to think and reason.¡±


    ¡°Pretty words, Alacryan,¡± Jotilda retorted, ¡°But you don¡¯t deny you think us traitors, do you?¡±


    I remained silent, glaring down at the arrogant dwarven elder. She huffed with anger, spinning away¨Cshoving my shoulder in the process¨Cand adjusting the helmet on her head. ¡°The cavern is just up ahead. Don¡¯t forget how to fight, now. Wouldn¡¯t want the traitors to die.¡±


    Borzen and Gruhnd trailed awkwardly behind me, refusing to meet my gaze as we reached the final stretch of cavern. I felt my blood boiling in contained anger as I stared out into the expansive darkness, the little fire by my shoulder revealing a massive cave without end. A forest of stone spikes stretched everywhere I looked, each thrusting upward in defiance.


    Each stalagmite stretched at least twenty feet into the air, their points sharp and deadly. Far above, thick stalactites leaked water in a steady drip back down to earth. Some were coated in a glowing moss that provided a bare outline of greenish-teal light, adding a strange ambiance of mystery to the cave.


    Jotilda stopped in place as she stepped from the tunnel to the massive cave, scanning the room while her hand brushed her axe. ¡°Well,¡± she said quietly, crouching low in the shadow of one of the large stalagmites, ¡°It seems that¨C¡±


    My senses screamed at me as a rumbling heartfire pounded against my ears. Instincts gained through assimilation and countless hours of combat spurred me on as I rushed forward, drawing Inversion from my belt as I blurred toward Jotilda. She turned in slow motion, her eyes widening in surprise as I shot toward her.


    She tried to bring her axe up in vain, but my hand snaked past her guard with ease. I grabbed the collar of her plate armor solidly, feeling the metal bend under my enhanced strength before I threw her backward.


    Just in time for something large, dark, and covered in coarse fur to smash into my guard. I barely deflected a swipe of some sort from a massive claw, but the impact sent me flying backward, my body smashing through a stalagmite before I managed to catch my balance on another.


    I levered Inversion, prepared for another attack from that dark blur.


    But then the ambient mana warped, a familiar energy threading through the air. I winced as a strange, omnidirectional warbling attacked my eardrums, the sound reverberating from everywhere and nowhere at once.


    I sent a stream of mana to my ears, strengthening them and protecting myself from the adverse effects. With my enhanced body, I was able to shrug off the onset of nausea and disrupted balance.


    Where is it?! I thought, darting away from where I was lashed to the stalagmite. The beast¡¯s mana signature was already indistinct and murky, and my ability to pick out their heartfire was overwhelmed by the constant humming that seemed to coalesce from every side. I was about to send out a flurry of fireballs to give myself light to see, but¨C


    ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora shouted in my mind, our tether cutting through the domain of sound that seemed to coat everything. ¡°The dwarves! They are in distress!¡±


    My gaze snapped back to my dwarven companions, my eyes widening at what I saw on the ground. Gruhnd and Borzen flailed wildly, seeming to stumble over their own feet as they cursed and fell. Neither could seem to manage a coherent spell as they tried to move, the sound spell affecting them far more intensely.


    They can¡¯t cast spells! I realized. Their concentration has been disrupted by this attack too thoroughly! They can¡¯t visualize or mold their mana!


    Only Jotilda remained on her feet, though she swayed unsteadily as she levered her axe at the darkness around her. I slammed a mindfire stamp into the earth, trying to rocket back to my companions. They couldn¡¯t function through this spell like I could.


    Except I had to duck as that same dark blur nearly tore out my throat, a massive bulk blocking out the bare light for a moment as it flew past. I fell out of the sky, rolling as I hit the ground to center myself.


    Scratch that, I thought, tuning out the constant hum that seemed to assault me from all sides like a constant hammering of drums, I am a bit affected. My balance isn¡¯t as good as it normally is.


    Plus, that dark, flying mana beast¨Cwhich presumably was maintaining this constant spell¨Cwas targeting me in particular.


    That meant it was either smart, powerful, or both if it recognized me as the greatest threat. Considering my luck, I¡¯d wager the latter.


    Aurora, could you please protect the dwarves? I asked, my hands clenching as I funneled more mana into my telekinetic shroud. I need to be able to focus on this threat.


    ¡°I will, my bond,¡± the asuran shade replied nearly immediately. ¡°Do not let yourself be taken unawares.¡±


    I grabbed the feathered brooch pinned to my vest, sensing that the mana beast I fought wouldn¡¯t let me reach my companions. Imbuing Aurora¡¯s relic with a bit of heartfire, I hurled it toward where Jotilda tried to cover her fellow dwarves. At the same time, I changed the source of heartfire to the feather in my chest.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    As the relic flew, it glowed powerfully, seeming to unfold and multiply over and over as it expanded, slowly taking shape. In half an instant, a massive bronze bird of prey erupted into space, displacing the air with a push of wind as it neared the dwarves.


    Aurora would be able to protect my three allies. Now, I needed to focus on whatever was trying to kill us.


    It uses the darkness, I thought, conjuring a dozen fireballs around me that bathed everything in a deep orange glow. I levered Inversion as my eyes darted around the massive cave, searching for any hint of movement.


    Then the warbling undertone in the air mutated, seeming to rise in pitch and intensity for a split instant. I winced as the focused attack hit my ears, causing me to lose balance ever-so-slightly. The fireballs in the air sputtered as my concentration was disrupted.


    The mana beast soared in from the side. I barely had the wherewithal to pivot, bringing a sound-shrouded Inversion up against my attacker as I got a glimpse of massive fangs and an eyeless face.


    But as I swung my vibrating weapon, something in the air changed. I noticed as the air around the creature seemed to oscillate in a familiar way, and then I felt my sound spell break away as I tried to cut the creature. Instead, my attack barely scored a hit on the furred monster, while its claws scored deep cuts across my telekinetic shroud.


    What the hell? I thought as the force of our collision sent me tumbling through the many stalagmites again. I grit my teeth as I reoriented, balancing on a spire of jutting rock. I leapt directly upward as the dark shadow tried to scrape at me again. I twisted in midair, layering a shroud of sound over my fist as I tried to punch the thing.


    I was met with disappointment as an area around the creature vibrated, the spell it cast seeming to rip away the one coating my fist.


    But the pent-up telekinetic push along my knuckles wasn¡¯t affected. I let that burst as my knuckles impacted the fur, earning a raw, high-pitched screech of pain from the monster as I danced backward along the stalagmites.


    My head snapped to the side as I felt Aurora engage her magic, swiping at something far away. I could just make out a bare red glow as she fought some sort of monster.


    ¡°Worry for your own battle, Toren!¡± she said sternly to me. ¡°I can handle this fight! Do not let yourself be distracted!¡±


    My bond¡¯s advice was more than timely. That concentrated sound spell rattled my ears again, but this time I was ready. I braced myself, then rocketed in the direction I sensed the spell coming from.


    Inversion burned red as I imbued it with a sizable portion of fire mana. I saw a flash of the mana beast¡¯s face as I zipped past, flying just as fast as it.


    It had no eyes on its face, only skin and sunken pits where they would otherwise be. Massive fangs like those of a vampire jutted from its jaw, each an ivory spike as long as my arm. In the instant that I saw its face, I found myself wishing that I hadn¡¯t.


    The batlike mana beast tried to twist out of the way as I swung my dagger-like horn as I passed, but not fast enough.


    I scored a long, clean cut along one of its wings, causing it to wobble slightly and screech in pain. I saw it had two sets of wings as I twisted midair, trying to latch onto the monster with a telekinetic pull.


    But the monster still held a measure of dexterity despite its damaged wing. It surged upward unnaturally, its midnight black fur camouflaging it as it disappeared into the darkened ceiling, hiding somewhere amidst the stalactites.


    It¡¯s able to change its strange sound domain spell to cancel out my sound spells, I thought as I darted up toward the ceiling like a predator sensing prey. But it can¡¯t do anything about my fire spells. And it¡¯s fast on the wing, but I¡¯m faster.


    I quietly thanked Cylrit for the training he provided in standing my ground. In this near-absolute darkness, I needed to play a more cautious game to draw out this mana beast from where it hid.


    I sensed it coming from the side again, divebombing me with another screech that tried to rattle my eardrums. It zeroed in on where I stood on a stalactite, surging toward me on two sets of blackened, batlike wings.


    That won¡¯t work again, I thought with a smirk, preparing to deflect another swipe of its claws.


    Instead, the wind was knocked from my lungs as the thing body-slammed both me and the stalactite, shattering the stone with a resounding crash and sending us tumbling down to the cave floor. My telekinetic shroud cracked from the impact, then shattered fully as my back hit the ground, the several-ton mana beast on top of me.


    I grunted in pain as the thing¡¯s claws pinned the arm that held Inversion, my landing wrenching the limb out of socket. I snapped my head to the side as those massive fangs tried to bite down on my skull, primed to pop it like a watermelon.


    I snarled as I let go of Inversion, then latched onto it with my telekinetic emblem. When the monster reared up again in all of its ugly glory, ready to try and bite me once more, the white horn lurched forward under my command, embedding itself into the monster¡¯s midnight-black chest.


    The batlike mana beast screamed in pain, stumbling backward and releasing my arm. The ambient mana surged in turn, that warbling effect it conjured intensifying as the creature sprayed dark blood onto the ground.


    I didn¡¯t let the opening go. I kipped up, throwing a handful of fireshot at the exact same moment. The mana beast tried to fly backward, blood streaming from its chest where my weapon was embedded, but my spell peppered its wing membrane before it could get too far.


    It fell like a dropped stone, screaming in terror as its wings were ripped to burning shreds. I bounded forward once, set my shoulder back into the socket, and then concentrated a fireball over my hand. I pumped mana into the orb, feeling myself begin to sweat from the effort as it grew more and more concentrated.


    Then I hurled the compressed orb of heat, my attack casting the cavern in deep orange light as it streaked for the falling mana beast like a missile. My fireball morphed slowly, growing wings and talons as it became a burning bird of prey.


    Somehow, the eyeless bat managed to twist, emitting a high-pitched scream of sound magic that caused my fireball to detonate prematurely.


    It exploded in a nova of heat, searing away glowing moss and blackening any stalagmites that it neared.


    I burst through the conflagration, a combined layer of fire and telekinesis building along my shin as I trailed smoke. I twisted as I approached the eyeless creature, bracing for the motion with a few telekinetic stilts far below on the ground.


    I snapped a solid kick into the monster¡¯s jaw, my telekinetic pushes and contained buildup of fire exploding on impact. The monstrous creature¡¯s scream was cut short as its lower jaw smashed up into its skull. Splintered bone, blood, and a tumbling fang spurted from the thing¡¯s head, while my shinbone crunched from the pushback.


    The massive bat crashed into the ground, the constant warbling sound effect evaporating as the mana beast that caused it spasmed in death throes, lying in a crater and surrounded by its own splattered blood.


    I landed solidly on the ground, wincing as I put weight on my leg. I slowly healed my shin, allowing my heartfire to wash away the damage I¡¯d caused myself from my telekinetic recoil. My shoulder, which ached slightly, experienced a soothing warmth as I addressed its dislocation with a spread of aetheric lifeforce. And with a bit of a mental twist, I absorbed the lifeforce in the beast¡¯s blood that coated me.


    I exhaled steam as I stalked toward the dying mana beast. It was easily four times my size, but its wings were broken and mangled in the fall. Its chest heaved in a shudder as it tried to breathe, but I suspected its lungs had been damaged by the fall as well. Two of its four fangs had been shattered by my kick, turning its already ugly maw into an approximation of a burst watermelon.


    I marched up to the creature, finding the leather-wrapped hilt of Inversion jutting from its sternum. Even if the beast had managed to escape me, the connection I held with this horn allowed me to pinpoint its location precisely.


    I withdrew Inversion, a spray of blood exiting the bat-like beast¡¯s fur as it tried in vain to move. I created a shrouded blade along its length, funneling fire mana into the crystalline edge. The thing crooned piteously one more time before I swung my conjured saber across its throat.


    But I wasn¡¯t allowed a second to relax. ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora shouted over our bond, a sense of urgency threading through. ¡°You are needed immediately! Come here, now!¡±


    I bolted into action, slamming a mindfire stamp into the ground as I surged toward where I knew my bond was. I¡¯d traveled a slight ways from the start of the fight, and I had to weave and dart around stalagmites as I surged toward her location.


    What is it, Aurora?! I thought, gritting my teeth. Are you in trouble? Do you need assistance in your fight?


    ¡°No, I am well,¡± my asuran bond replied. ¡°But the dwarven elder is not!¡±


    I erupted from the forest of earthen spikes, able to finally hear heartfire without issue once again. I immediately zeroed in on one that felt weaker than the others and was fading fast.


    Aurora¡¯s massive avian relic loomed victoriously over another batlike beast, this one notably smaller than my quarry. Its fur was covered in deep burns, traces of plasma and eviscerated body parts telling the story of their struggle. Her soulmetal exterior seemed entirely unharmed.


    But illuminated beneath her wing, Jotilda lay breathing raggedly. There was a jagged cut along her thigh that had shorn through her metal armor with ease, causing the flesh to pump thick blood out onto the stones.


    Damnit, I thought, sliding to a halt near the dwarven elder. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was uneven, but I knew she was conscious. She was losing blood fast, but I could heal something like this.


    I held my hands over her leg, calling on my heartfire. My hands fuzzed with orange-purple light, banishing the darkness around us, before I let the motes of energy drip into her wound.


    I heard her heartfire, beating weakly as she slowly bled out. And as my own lifeforce met hers, I tried to sympathize. Tried to match the tone of my chest to hers so that I might heal her.


    Except¡­ Except I couldn¡¯t. I couldn¡¯t understand why this woman, who otherwise seemed like such a stalwart and honorable warrior, would sell out her own people to Alacrya. To Agrona. She¡¯d doomed them to experimentation and slavery.


    I¡¯d grown in the depths of East Fiachra, watching how the lowest of the low faced their discrimination. And I had no illusions that Agrona¡¯s blood-based society would put every dwarf even lower than the lowest slum rat in Alacrya. After all, even if the urchins bore no magic, they had the blood of the Sovereigns in their veins.


    I couldn¡¯t imagine subjecting someone to such a fate. To such a cruel state of existence.


    ¡°Why do you rebel, Shintstone?¡± I forced through gritted teeth, feeling a growing well of despair as blood continued to seep around me. ¡°What makes you reject Dicathen?¡±


    The elder was silent for a moment, and for a moment I feared she had fallen unconscious. ¡°You are a fool, Alacryan,¡± she said in a rasp. ¡°I don¡¯t reject Dicathen. I choose Darv.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me the difference,¡± I demanded, feeling strangely helpless as the woman slowly died. I had all this healing power, and it was stalled by my inability to understand the very person I¡¯d been tasked to know.


    ¡°The dwarves are never treated as equals,¡± Elder Shintstone pushed. ¡°Never been allowed to rule for themselves. Even way back when,¡± she choked out, ¡°Even during the war between Sapin and Elenoir. Darv is entirely reliant on Sapin¡¯s trade for food. In these wastes, we can¡¯t plant our own crops or rear any livestock. So we sent our warriors to fight the elves under old King Glayder¡¯s demand, even though we had no stake in the battle.¡±


    ¡°Elder Rahdeas believed it worthwhile to side with you Alacryans,¡± the old dwarf wheezed. ¡°Thought we¡¯d be able to carve out a place for ourselves under Agrona¡¯s rule. But even a continent away, you humans think us lesser,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You immediately call us traitor to our people instead of asking why we rebel in the first place.¡±


    I felt my heart clench in guilt as Elder Shintstone¡¯s words settled into my bones. She leaned her helmeted head against Aurora¡¯s warm exterior, not seeming to recognize her surroundings.


    ¡°Your Scythe Seris isn¡¯t even treating with us herself,¡± Jotilda whispered. ¡°We aren¡¯t worthy of her time, so she sends a representative in her place. A representative of a representative. No matter what we do, we aren¡¯t allowed to make our own choices. Always forced to abide by the laws and desires of others.¡±


    I settled back as the dwarven woman¡¯s words flowed through my system. She seemed to expel more energy with every breath, but there was a strange lucidity to her words as she vented what must have been years of restrained anger.


    ¡°And even now, the dwarves aren¡¯t allowed to fight their own battles. You rushed in earlier, casting yourself as our savior when we were confronted by that noble idiot. Even during a dwarven rebellion, the dwarves are never allowed to stand up for themselves.¡±


    Though each of the dwarven woman¡¯s words struck me like a blow, I still felt as our heartfires slowly moved into sync as I gained what I needed. I held out a hand over Jotilda¡¯s wound, remembering the way every single man and woman in East Fiachra had been degraded and beaten. How they¡¯d been pushed at the whims of those greater than they, unwilling to let them simply live their lives in peace.


    Jotilda''s ragged wound slowly, painfully, healed over as I felt the sympathy I needed. I wrenched my eyes shut as she drifted off into sleep, a large pool of her own blood around her.


    She would likely be very surprised to wake up tomorrow.


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± Aurora said over our bond, bowing her avian head in regret. Her eyes¨Clike roiling suns¨Cclosed as soulmetal lids covered them in shame. ¡°I was engaged with this Echo Vespertion, and was not aware that it had managed to strike at those I was tasked with protecting until it was already over.¡±


    ¡°By Mother Earth,¡± I heard a ragged voice say from behind me, ¡°You¡¯re an emitter, too?¡±


    I turned to see Borzen supporting Gruhnd under his shoulder as he stared down at me, wide-eyed. Both were covered in a layer of dust that seemed soul-deep, but they appeared unharmed, though a bit unsteady on their feet. When Aurora¡¯s relic opened its eyes, revealing stars that ripped away the veil of this cavern¡¯s darkness, Borzen stepped back, gulping in fear.


    I stood, a sour feeling coursing through my veins. I ignored the two other dwarves, too overwhelmed by my own thoughts. I walked past them, going to inspect the second corpse.


    Borzen seemed to dismiss his fears, releasing Gruhnd as he pushed his way toward Elder Jotilda¡¯s body. He laid a meaty finger across her neck, checking her pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt that she was fine.


    The orange-haired dwarf picked up her body from the stone, purposefully avoiding looking at the looming phoenix construct above him. ¡°Thank you, Toren,¡± he said quietly, looking toward me. ¡°She wouldn¡¯t say it, but I will. Dwarven pride doesn¡¯t wash away gratitude.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I sighed, looking down at the batlike mana beast that Aurora had slain. ¡°It seems, though, that I have a lot to think about.¡±

 Chapter 181: Changing Views

    Toren Daen


    I ran a hand along the midnight-black pelt laid out in front of me, surprised by its softness. It was so dark it seemed to reject any sort of light whatsoever, creating a spot of black within the small bit of firelight I¡¯d conjured.


    The Echo Vespertion¡¯s pelt¨CAurora had put a name on the beast¨Cwas utterly contrasted by the snow-white fur of the time-stop yeti directly beside it. Both were won through hard-fought battles, and I felt a strange sort of reverence for these ¡®trophies.¡¯


    I need to make some sort of cloak out of these eventually, I thought. But it needs to be undertaken by a master craftsman. I have no doubt these materials can maintain magical effects better than most.


    Aurora looked over my shoulder at the pelts, still occupying her large bronze relic. She tilted her head as she ran an inquisitive look over them both.


    I was hoping that whatever effect was negating my sound spells was somehow tied to the fur, though, I thought sourly. That would be a useful ability to have.


    Sensing my thoughts, the large metal phoenix behind me whirred slightly, orange-purple mist puffing from each crevice along its form. ¡°The beast that I battled engaged a similar ability. Whenever my plasma sought to burn out its throat, the sound mana was disrupted by its oscillation. But the explanation of this ability is quite simple, as is the method to counter its implementation.¡±


    I turned to my bond, absorbing both furs back into my dimension ring. What do you mean? I thought, interested.


    ¡°It is an aspect of resonant frequency,¡± Aurora explained. ¡°The monster had a natural ability to detect the frequency of your vibrating spells, then matched that accordingly. Once the two resonances met, they naturally unraveled each other.¡±


    Like a singer raising her voice so high that it reached the natural pitch that glass vibrated at, causing the glass to shatter in resonance. This mana beast had managed something similar.


    I blinked, surprised I hadn¡¯t thought of such an explanation myself. And I¡¯m guessing you countered it by changing the frequency of your own mana? Make it difficult, if not impossible, to maintain resonance?


    Aurora¡¯s avian head nudged my back comfortingly. ¡°You are quick to understand, Toren. It required a bare bit more effort on my end, but nothing substantial. Once this was realized, the vespertion was simple prey.¡±


    I chuckled as I brushed my bond¡¯s metal neck, her asuran pride radiating over our bond. ¡°Simple prey, huh?¡± I said aloud, allowing myself a moment to relax.


    It had been a few hours since my battle within the cavern. Not far away, Borzen and Gruhnd sat around a fire, cooking a bit of bat meat on sticks. They¡¯d both helped me strip each monster, retrieving pelts, beast cores, and what other useful reagents they could scavenge from the bodies. Unfortunately, neither I nor Aurora had been exceptionally gentle with our kills. There wasn¡¯t as much scavengeable as I would have liked.


    I slowly loped back to the fire, quietly noting how Jotilda had been propped against a looming stalagmite. She was sleeping fitfully, a blanket thrown over her aged body. Borzen had done the woman a favor and peeled off her shattered leg armor, but that also meant she was more exposed to the cold.


    It was quite chilly this deep in the caves. The sweltering heat I¡¯d associated with the tunnels was only a result of dwarven mining and industry, but naturally? They were freezing.


    I sat myself down around the fire, holding a hand out toward Gruhnd. He grunted, handing me over one of the long skewers he¡¯d been roasting.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, sitting myself on top of a short rock. I took a testing bite from the meat, my eyes widening in surprise at the savory taste. ¡°Did you put some sort of seasoning on this? It¡¯s pretty damn good,¡± I complimented.


    Gruhnd¡¯s chest puffed out with pride as he said something that sounded close to affirmation. I still couldn¡¯t make out what the hell he was saying, even after hearing him talk for a couple of days. I¡¯d long decided to just pretend this was normal, considering the other dwarves did, too.


    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, Toren,¡± Borzen said, taking a bite of his skewer, ¡°Jotilda told me you said you¡¯d be enough to handle any S-class beasts we ran into. I didn¡¯t believe you. Don¡¯t think she did, either, but the chances of running into an S-class were low enough that it wasn¡¯t worth makin¡¯ a fuss about. Lots of adventurers tell tall tales about encounters with S-class beasts and their strength, but it''s all empty bluster. Seen it meself a million times.¡± Borzen paused, taking a giant bite from his skewer. ¡°But, well¡­ Ya got two. Pretty damn impressive,¡± he said through a mouthful of meat.


    I smirked slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve fought worse,¡± I said, thinking of the dark undead serpent and Mardeth in particular. ¡°The Relictombs are particularly awful. They always adapt to match your level of strength.¡±


    Borzen slowly lowered his skewer, a strange cast to his face. ¡°Hey, ya said earlier that Agrona is keepin¡¯ his best fighters back. Those ascenders and whatnot. I just wanted to know¡­ Are they all as strong as you are?¡±


    There was a hesitance in Borzen¡¯s words and intent that gave me pause. He truly cared about his fellow dwarves, even the dwarven loyalists that wished to suppress his rebellion.


    ¡°I¡¯m among the strongest Alacrya can offer,¡± I said honestly, heaving a sigh. ¡°But I¡¯m still no match for the Scythes. One day, though,¡± I said wistfully.


    As Aurora¡¯s relic slowly moved over to me, a clank in each step as she sensed my melancholy. Borzen and Gruhnd reared back as the firelight danced across my bond¡¯s massive bronze form.


    Thinking of the dwarven rebellion conjured a complicated mixture of emotions in my gut. Only a few hours had passed since I¡¯d healed Jotilda Shintstone¡¯s wounds, but her words still resounded around in my skull.


    I would admit to myself that my perspective of the dwarven rebellion was heavily influenced by that otherworld novel. There, I saw mostly everything from the Dicathian perspective. From the point of view of Arthur and Virion, who internally decried these dwarves as traitors to the continent.


    And everything that displayed Darv after that? It didn¡¯t give them the best view. But now¡­ now I saw that perhaps my perspective was too rigid.


    As if on queue, I heard a stir in Jotilda¡¯s heartfire. I turned to look at the shifting dwarf, slowly lowering my skewer as she blinked uncertainly. When she saw the looming figure of Aurora¡¯s bronze bulk, she pulled herself backward, a primal sort of fear radiating from her.


    Gruhnd and Borzen leapt into action as she cursed, her hand darting to her belt in a vain attempt to reach for an axe that wasn¡¯t there. As her fellow dwarves laid hands on her shoulders, however, she looked to the side, seeming to realize they were there for the first time.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m alive?¡± she muttered uncertainly, a confused note in her voice. ¡°But I thought¡­ My leg¡­¡±


    Would you mind leaving the relic for now? I asked my bond. I¡¯m not sure your looming would do this conversation any good.


    ¡°Very well, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I shall be here if you need me.¡±


    Of course, I thought back, grasping the tether of heartfire that sprouted from my chest. With a simple tug, I allowed the relic to shift back into a single bronze brooch, folding inward on itself a dozen times in a display of impossible geometry. The dwarves watched, stupefied, as I caught the falling feather, then pinned it to my vest.


    ¡°I healed you before you passed the brink,¡± I said, looking Jotilda in the eyes. ¡°You might be sore for a few days, but you¡¯ll be good as new soon.¡±


    The dwarven elder looked at me warily, then her eyes darted to the skinned corpses of the echo vespertions not far behind us. When her gaze returned, her intent was laced with quiet fear.


    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Then I let it out slowly, calming my nerves. I opened my eyes once more, looking at the dwarven elder. ¡°And I apologize for the actions I took that invalidated your autonomy,¡± I said, referencing how I¡¯d stepped in to speak for the dwarves when they¡¯d nearly fought with the Alacryan soldiers. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my intention to do so.¡±


    I¡¯d been thinking for a while, but I wasn¡¯t certain what else I could have done differently in that confrontation. I wasn¡¯t sure if that made the situation worse or not: that the only way to avoid conflict in that instance was to place myself in a position that took power away from those I sought to help.


    And I had felt the effects of my actions within Jotilda¡¯s intent as she believed herself to be dying. The emotions she felt were real and powerful, not something I could outright dismiss.


    I tapped my fingers along my leg nervously as Jotilda watched, seeming just as uncertain as I. ¡°And I am sorry for perceiving you as traitors, too. I see that your position is¡­ More complicated than I first thought. Not so black and white.¡±


    I didn¡¯t think that anything I learned in the future¨Cany discrimination or wrongdoing¨Cthat the dwarves had experienced would justify their support of the Alacryan invasion. But I also had to remember that I had a near-omniscient view of the war and its eventual aftermath. How many dwarves, humans, or elves truly understood Agrona¡¯s goals? How many of the dwarven rebels truly saw what Alacrya was like; knew what they welcomed onto their shores?


    Most of the rebels likely only saw an outer force pushing in and capitalized on the political upheaval to try and enforce their own rule. They didn¡¯t see an apathetic, conniving Vritra overlord that sought their total dominion. The dwarves thought they were welcoming the French to their American revolution.


    Unfortunately, the troops they brought to their shores were of more¡­ German persuasion in this analogy.


    Gruhnd and Borzen stared at me, both seeming unable to form a coherent response. Elder Shintstone, however, spoke up with iron in her voice.


    ¡°Your words are nice, Alacryan, but you¡¯ve yet to show action,¡± she said sternly. ¡°Time will tell if you do more than say pretty words.¡±


    I exhaled, allowing her words to glance off my skin. Borzen, however, seemed more amenable to my honest attempts. ¡°Elder Jotilda, I think you should give him more of a chance. I mean¡­ he healed you, didn¡¯t he? And he saved us from those S-class mana beasts.¡±


    The dwarven elder averted her eyes from me at the reminder of my power. ¡°My old bones have faced too much in their lifetime to trust someone on words alone,¡± she said sourly, a deep cynicism coating every word. ¡°Actions make people, not words.¡±


    I put my hands on my knees, then pushed myself to my feet. ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to prove my words with my actions,¡± I said, injecting confidence into my voice. I walked over to where Jotilda still lay on the ground, holding out my hand to her. ¡°Sound fair to you?¡±


    The dwarven elder looked at my hand, a crease to her aged brows, before she finally took it, using my strength to haul herself to her feet. She looked down at her leg with raised brows, seeming surprised she could put her weight on it. ¡°I s¡¯ppose we do have to work together,¡± she sighed. ¡°Coulda been that arrogant noble instead.¡±


    I smirked slightly. ¡°It could¡¯ve been. I¡¯ve had my own tussle with Kiel Patamoor¡¯s father, and I can say it¡¯s a family trait.¡±


    I had plenty of work to do when I got back to the main cavern. If I wanted to be an honest emissary for Seris and facilitate cooperation, I needed to show it with my actions and not just my words.


    ¡ª


    The return trip proceeded at a far faster pace than before. Considering the tunnels had been cleared of the most dangerous mana beasts, I was able to keep a steady torchlight hovering around my shoulders, making it easier for us all to progress. Furthermore, though we all kept our guards up, we didn¡¯t have to watch every single step in fear.


    Several hours later, we reached the main cavern once more. The change in temperature was surprising, but I was quickly left to my own devices as Jotilda went about organizing tunnel cleaners and for workers to do more thorough lighting and excavation of the unearthed caves. The news that we¡¯d encountered and slain a couple of S-class mana beasts caused a stir amongst the dwarves, and even more when I revealed the spoils from my dimension ring.


    I needed to get the pelt I¡¯d taken from the echo vespertion cured, after all.


    But it was only after another hour or so that I was finally able to separate myself from the crowds.


    I loped toward my squat tower abode within the caverns, the twisting path feeling somewhat lonely as I gradually ascended. Aurora¡¯s relic sat primly on my shoulder as I finally stepped into the room I called my own, closing the metal door behind me.


    I felt my shoulders slump slightly as a tension that I always carried relaxed slightly. I ran my hands over my face, then through my hair, centering myself with the action.


    ¡°So, what will you do now?¡± Aurora asked, her melodic voice echoing from the relic on my shoulder.


    I walked over to a nearby desk, setting myself into the surprisingly ornate chair. ¡°Well, I tried asking if there was a library I could use to research dwarven history and culture, but that didn¡¯t work out.¡±


    When faced with a problem, my first instinct was to read about the topic first. I¡¯d done so with the Clarwood Forest, the Joans, the Relictombs, and even the Blooded families of Alacrya.


    ¡°But to your surprise, the underground base of rebels and intercontinentals does not have a dedicated library,¡± Aurora teased lightly, her steampunk sparrow hopping from my shoulder. She landed on the desk, looking around at the sparsely decorated room, which was closer in proximity to a bunker. ¡°Truly shocking, Toren.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Hey,¡± I responded, feigning affrontation. ¡°Every city¨Cbase, hideout, whatever¨Cshould have a library somewhere. You can¡¯t get anywhere in life without a dozen good books available. I think I¡¯ll have to make a library here first before I get anything done.¡±


    A melodic laugh bubbled from Aurora¡¯s relic, causing me to smile in turn. ¡°You and bibliophilic ways, Toren. I don¡¯t know what I shall do with you.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Nothing at all. I¡¯m clearly right about this. My future knowledge kind of proves it. But to answer your question,¡± I continued, withdrawing a certain notebook from my dimension ring, ¡°I¡¯m going to set a few goals for myself.¡±


    I flipped open my notebook, the item held closest to my soul. My ciphered notes on The Beginning After the End stared back. Further along the pages, I¡¯d begun to use them as a sort of journal to try and monitor my thoughts, especially after the events that preluded my First Sculpting.


    If I wanted to help this world, I needed to not


    have a mental breakdown. And to avoid the near-total collapse I experienced in the Relictombs, I needed to tend to my mental health as well.


    ¡°First,¡± I said aloud as I scribbled down on the pages, ¡°I¡¯m going to talk more with Borzen, Gruhnd, and Jotilda. They¡¯ll be good avenues to learning things like folktales, history, and general cultural perspectives. What do the dwarves think about life? Death? The journey between the two?¡±


    ¡°And second?¡± Aurora intoned, her eyes watching my hand write the swooping letters.


    ¡°I need to know what it''s like to be a dwarf,¡± I said, finishing a looping letter, ¡°So I¡¯m going to ask Jotilda to assign me work. Maybe something that can make use of my fire affinity. But¡­¡± I tapped my pen against my chin, remembering how rigid my view of the dwarves¡¯ rebellion had been before. ¡°Understanding comes from experience. And considering I need both of those, I need to do what I can to gain them.¡±


    Aurora hummed as I wrote, allowing the familiar action to settle my nerves. I was just about to say something else when a knock came at my door. I blinked in surprise, then immediately revved my mana as my hand shifted to where Inversion was strapped to my belt.


    I couldn¡¯t sense whoever was on the other side of the door, either through mana or heartfire. My first guess was that Seris was here, but she had no reason to visit me personally. Or to knock.


    I exchanged a serious look with my bond as she fluttered up to my shoulder. I carefully strode over toward the door. ¡°Who is it?¡± I asked, my body ready for combat.


    ¡°This is the first time I have been made to wait in nearly a decade,¡± a coolly familiar voice said from outside my door. ¡°I do not appreciate it, Lord Daen.¡±


    I blinked in surprise. Seris?


    I pulled open the door, feeling a genuine bit of shock seeing the dark-robed Scythe of Sehz-Clar waiting demurely on the other side. ¡°Oh, Seris,¡± I said, feeling slightly foolish. ¡°I, uh, didn¡¯t think it was you. You don¡¯t exactly have a reason to be here. Knocking at my door,¡± I said stupidly.


    Way to go, Toren, I thought, cringing internally. You really are eloquent with your words, aren¡¯t you?


    ¡°Do I need a reason to speak with you?¡± Seris asked with a raised brow.


    ¡°I mean, normally, you have a reason to,¡± I said awkwardly. ¡°You don¡¯t call for social visits. It¡¯s a little strange.¡±


    Then my mind caught up with my tongue. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.


    I squeezed my eyes shut, switching from cringing to outright cursing in my head. ¡°Forget I said anything, please. I¡¯m more than happy to talk with you whenever you wish. It¡¯s just¡­.¡±


    ¡°Just¡­?¡± Seris asked, tilting her head and letting her skepticism wash over me.


    I sighed. ¡°Would you like to come in?¡± Before I put my foot in my mouth anymore. ¡°As you said, you haven¡¯t been made to wait for a decade.¡±


    Seris smiled slightly, walking past me and into the room. If anything, she at least appeared amused by my blatant fumble. She observed the place with a slight twitch of her lips, scanning over it slowly.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing impressive right now,¡± I said a bit quickly, walking past her and swiping my notebook off the desk before stashing it in my dimension ring. ¡°But if I really wanted to make this place homey, I¡¯d probably put some sort of painting on the walls, or get more decorations. Spice the place up a bit more.¡±


    Inside my head, I heard Aurora''s chortle. I snapped a glare at the relic on my shoulder, but my irritation was cut through by the Scythe¡¯s silken voice. ¡°I am certain you will find the time to¡­ Spice the place up eventually,¡± she said in a bemused tone. ¡°But, unfortunately, I do have a few reasons for sweeping in unannounced.¡±


    I focused back on Seris, feeling a mote of confusion. ¡°And what might those be?¡± S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Well,¡± Seris said diplomatically, ¡°Word reached me rather quickly of your expedition with the dwarven elder, and I would like to know the results of such an endeavor. But word reached me even swifter of your demotion of Kiel Patamoor and subsequent promotion of Lusul Hercross in his place.¡±


    I had planned to inform Seris of my decision there, but hadn¡¯t yet gotten the time. I should have expected her grasp of information to be faster, though. Aurora¡¯s relic hopped off my shoulder, fluttering to the windowsill.


    I sat down in my desk chair, massaging the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger, something I knew I did when I felt annoyed. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can confirm with the necessary people, but Kiel was goading a fight with the dwarves in the cavern. I stepped in and put someone I believed to be more reliable in charge, considering we can¡¯t have such open hostility between our leaders if we want cooperation,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I thought you¡¯d approve.¡±


    ¡°So you aren¡¯t making a political play for power the moment we leave Alacrya?¡± Seris asked, tilting her head. ¡°I did not think you the type. I¡¯ll have to factor this in with everything else now, Toren. You seem to enjoy making my life complicated.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said adamantly, shaking my head. ¡°That was never my intention, I¡­¡± I paused, then looked more carefully at the Scythe across from me. Though she showed little on her face, there was an almost devious twinkle in her eye. Her demure pink lips seemed to curve just a bit at the edges as she pretended to inspect the dark paint on her nails.


    Had she been teasing me?


    I sighed, shaking my head. ¡°I think I¡¯ll leave the political plotting to you, Seris,¡± I said, feeling amused as a slight smile stretched across my lips. ¡°I think I¡¯m a bit too green to manage a spanning network of information. That seems like something you¡¯re better at than me.¡±


    Seris chuckled lightly. ¡°Don¡¯t you think you could learn? You have a brilliant mind. I have no doubt that I could¡­ mold you to be what you want. If you ask, I might even consider it. With the right concessions, of course.¡±


    ¡°Concessions?¡± I asked, skeptical.


    ¡°Concessions,¡± the Scythe echoed primly.


    I narrowed my eyes at the glimmer in Seris¡¯ pupils, and this time I knew for certain that she was teasing me in some way. As I focused on her more directly, she kept her expression carefully placid, as if the surface of her face were the reflective planes of a clear lake or some sort of dark stone. No shift or change at all.


    In contrast, I fought down the lopsided smirk that threatened to rise on my face.


    ¡°My poker face isn¡¯t good enough to be a spy,¡± I replied, very aware that I was trying to put on a neutral front and failing drastically. A poor contrast to the actual spymaster across from me.


    Seris¡¯ eyes flashed slightly, and I saw her lip twitch. ¡°Poker face, Lord Daen?¡±


    I paused, belatedly realizing that this world didn¡¯t have poker at all. She wouldn¡¯t know what I was talking about. ¡°I can¡¯t keep a straight expression,¡± I amended. ¡°I can¡¯t mask my gambling hand to save my life. One look at my face and you know exactly what I¡¯m trying to hide. It¡¯s worse with you especially.¡±


    My attention was drawn back to Seris as the Scythe walked closer, gracefully setting herself down in a leather, full-backed chair that diagonally faced my hearth, leaving us more or less across from one another. I watched as she crossed one leg over the other, her conservative midnight dress shifting as she did so.


    How did she do that with such poise? Every movement seemed somehow scripted, as if they fitted perfectly into the Scythe¡¯s desires. Even how she crossed her slender hands over her lap seemed to be done as if a thousand times before¨Cbut it wasn¡¯t mechanical. In the same way a river charted the same path for centuries, yet remained constantly graceful.


    ¡°You have many strange sayings,¡± Seris mused. I snapped myself from my introspection, forcing my eyes to remain on the Scythe¡¯s face and not on her legs. ¡°I highly doubt the common mage in Sehz-Clar knows what this poker is either. Where do you get them from?¡±


    My mind flashed back to the half-dozen times I had used Earthen expressions around Seris. I tended to do that more when I felt relaxed, but there wasn¡¯t exactly a way to explain¡­ all that.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been on many adventures and seen many things that even a Scythe wouldn¡¯t be able to comprehend,¡± I decided to say instead. ¡°You won¡¯t be learning where I get my wise little quips from no matter how hard you try,¡± I finished with a lightly challenging tone.


    I had a lot of sayings from Earth that I could pawn off as my own just to baffle the woman in front of me. I wondered: how many quotes from Shakespeare could I steal before people caught on?


    My mood dipped a bit as I recognized the truth about that. Only Arthur Leywin could catch me on that, I thought. The real temptation of reincarnation isn¡¯t ultimate power. It¡¯s plagiarism.


    Seris was inspecting me in a very, very strange way at my last sentence. One that almost made goosebumps run along the back of my spine and the hairs on my arms stand on end. There was something about the way her eyelids narrowed ever-so-slightly, her lashes casting shadows across her cheeks.


    I shivered slightly, feeling that I¡¯d said somethinf wrong somrhow. Naereni had told me once that my gaze in my Acquire Phase made her feel exposed. And for a brief heartbeat, I wondered if this was what she meant.


    ¡°Perhaps I shall take you up on that offer, Lord Daen,¡± Seris finally replied. ¡°But I still wish to know the results of your trek with the dwarven elder.¡±


    Thankfully, that strange prickling along my skin and itch in the back of my mind subsided as Seris shifted our conversation back on track.


    ¡°The trip into the tunnels was¡­ enlightening,¡± I said, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms as the moment shifted. ¡°I was made aware that my perspectives on what I think is true are not as foolproof as I initially thought.¡± I paused, feeling my brow furrow. ¡°Right before you came here, I was making plans on how to address that limited perspective. I don¡¯t know much about the dwarves, and the assumptions I made limited my ability to understand further.¡±


    Seris leaned forward slightly as I spoke, her pearlescent hair spilling over her shoulders. After my words, she was silent for a long time, seeming lost in thought. ¡°I¡¯ve said such before to you, but it is worth saying again,¡± she said slowly, her brow creasing as if to mirror my own, ¡°To recognize the faulty nature of our own perception, Lord Daen, is something most never do. And rarely is it so simple.¡±


    I looked up at the Scythe, sensing something in her words. She held my gaze as if in a vice, my thoughts on the nature of her rebellion against Agrona.


    There was certainly a time when Seris was no better than the other Scythes, wasn¡¯t there? When her loyalty to Agrona was solid and true?


    And I found myself wondering what experience shifted her perspective. What had changed her perception so deeply that she would risk rebellion against one of the most powerful people in the world?


    As she held my gaze, Seris Vritra¡¯s pink lips parted. ¡°There is another reason I am here, Lord Daen,¡± she said, her voice somewhere between serious and something else. The Scythe slowly stood, that movement just as graceful as anything else, before she flourished her hand.


    I blinked, feeling the moment shift slightly as I saw a strange object appear in her palm. A dodecahedron a little larger than my fist settled into her dainty fingers. It appeared to be crafted of burnished steel with intricate designs woven along the metal plates. I narrowed my eyes as I sensed the fire mana within.


    I slowly stood, walking closer uncertainly. Seris seemed to genuinely hesitate, which made me even more curious. ¡°What is this?¡± I asked, looking down at the object she held in her hand.


    ¡°It is a puzzle of dwarven make,¡± Seris said, ¡°Designed to challenge the minds of their greatest fire-attribute mages. I do believe one must imbue the device with fire mana, aiming to eventually alight this symbol at the center,¡± she continued, her dark eyes glinting slightly as she gestured toward a glyph shaped like fire at the center of one of the sides.


    She held out the puzzle, and I felt a bit confused. I gently took the item from her hand, inspecting the craftsmanship. It was surprisingly heavy, feeling entirely solid. I could sense a bit of fire mana within, and I felt the urge to imbue the little dodecahedron myself.


    ¡°Is this the next step in my training?¡± I asked. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got a good handle on using the Dicathian style of magic casting, but if there are places I could improve¡­¡± I trailed off as I looked at the Scythe¡¯s face, a bemused expression there. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Do you know what day it is, Lord Daen?¡± Seris asked.


    I furrowed my brow, internally counting the days. ¡°It¡¯s Wednesday,¡± I said, ¡°Right? Or was I in that cavern longer than I thought?¡±


    Seris chuckled slightly, a sound like tinkling bells. I felt my ears heat slightly as that sound caressed them, feeling foolish for a reason I couldn¡¯t pinpoint. ¡°What is the date, Lord Daen?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s June 12, isn¡¯t it? Is that some sort of holiday, or something?¡± I asked, feeling dreadfully confused. What was on June¨C ¡°Oh,¡± I said stupidly, realization hitting me like a truck.


    After all, June 12th was my birthday. Toren¡¯s birthday, to be exact. This body turned eighteen today, a critical age in both Alacrya and Earth. Considering everything else I had balanced on my mind, birthdays felt too inconsequential to remember.


    I hadn¡¯t even thought about it, but I¡¯d past my Earthen birthday too, hadn¡¯t I?


    I felt my face flush with embarrassment at the blunder. I coughed into my fist, forcing my eyes to remain on the dwarven sculpture in my hands. ¡°Thank you, Seris,¡± I said quietly, bowing slightly in respect. ¡°It¡¯s a wonderful gift. I¡¯ll admit it slipped my mind that today was my birthday at all.¡±


    Seris stepped away from me, taking the floral scent of her perfume with her. ¡°So formal,¡± she said, sounding amused. ¡°I will be inquiring on how you solve this puzzle, Lord Daen. I wish to know its secrets myself, but I do not bear the necessary skills to do so.¡±


    My fingers wrapped possessively around the little dodecahedron in my hand. ¡°You¡¯ll be the first to know when I¡¯ve completed it.¡±


    Seris moved back to the seat, lowering herself down with the poise of a queen. ¡°That is well. But from what the craftsman told me, it is one of their most challenging puzzles. Do not expect an easy victory in this.¡±


    I felt the fire mana churning slightly within the puzzle, like the kindling of a true flame. In turn, I felt a bit of fire building in my chest too at the challenge. I was damn good at these kinds of things. ¡°What do I get if I complete it?¡± I said, raising a brow as I smirked at the Scythe. ¡°Maybe you could train me to be a spy after all.¡±


    The Scythe slowly shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid there are some things that not even my expertise can fix.¡± Her eyes traced over my facial features imperiously. ¡°You changed my mind. That arrogant smirk on your face would give you away no matter what I tried.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s got to be something after. If you want to lead me on, you¡¯ve got to make it enticing enough.¡± I quirked up a brow. ¡°Another puzzle, perhaps? Maybe you¡¯ll eventually find one that can actually stump me. Do you think you could make me try?¡±


    Seris opened her mouth, closed it, and then raised a hand to her chin as she studied me with a tilt of her head. ¡°Such arrogant words, Lord Daen,¡± she said. ¡°You should know what you are stepping into.¡±


    I huffed. ¡°I know precisely what I¡¯m getting myself into,¡± I retorted, allowing my emblem to spin the puzzle about me in a theatrical display. I sat back into my seat with a leisurely drop, crossing one leg over the other in an exaggerated fashion as my lopsided grin grew even wider.


    Seris shook her head slowly, sighing lightly. ¡°Such bravado. I¡¯ll await your inevitable requests for assistance while¨C¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s words petered off before she suddenly frowned, her posture shifting slightly. ¡°Wait a moment,¡± she said, flourishing her hand. A small communication artifact settled there, glinting in the low light. It was flashing bright red and vibrating in her palm, simultaneously emitting pulses into the ambient mana.


    A sign of an urgent message. The Scythe funneled mana into the device, seeming to forget for a moment that I was here.


    ¡°Report, Cylrit.¡± Seris commanded, ¡°Why have you used the urgent line?¡±


    ¡°Important news, my Scythe,¡± Cylrit¡¯s voice echoed out from the other end. ¡°Retainer Uto has departed to prepare an ambush for Lance Godspell in coordination with Elder Rahdeas near our refuges along the northern border of Sapin. Your presence has been requested to ensure the battle proceeds as necessary.¡±


    Seris did not wait long to reply. ¡°Very well,¡± she said evenly. ¡°I shall be there swiftly.¡±


    The red flashing lights dimmed, and the mana pulses petered out. The Scythe looked up from the artifact, meeting my eyes. ¡°Well, Lord Daen,¡± she said simply. ¡°I believe we have your next assignment.¡±

 Chapter 182: Puzzles in People

    Seris Vritra


    I strode through the makeshift barrack created for me and my council, moving for an empty room. Outwardly, I was a picture of perfect poise. I displayed everything required of a Scythe: perfect grace and cool, powerful indifference. My mask of apathy was a weapon to be wielded as I saw fit, striking at any who stepped out of line.


    But within? I was tense; taut as a wyvern-hide bow. Cylrit had contacted me swiftly, as expected. I knew Retainer Uto had been planning an ambush of Arthur Leywin in concert with Councilor Rahdeas. I¡¯d volunteered my eventual assistance to the Councilor myself, ordering him not to inform Commander Uto of my interference.


    I will enjoy snapping Uto¡¯s horns from his head, I thought absently, suppressing a ravenous smile. The man had been a nagging thorn in my side for far too long, his crass nature and obvious mouthpiece for Dragoth¡¯s inner thoughts wearing away at my patience. Too long have I withheld from breaking that beast.


    I buried that vindictive surge. I had more important reasons for what I was about to do. Lance Godspell, above all others, needed to survive for the eventual storm. It would not be just Alacrya caught between the gazes of Kezess and Agrona, but Dicathen as well. And they could not be left without their figures of power.


    As my feet carried me forward, I thought of the first time I¡¯d seen the boy, Arthur Leywin, as he spied my entrance onto this continent. I hadn¡¯t been able to sense his mana signature, masked as it was by whatever art he used to hide it. But I hadn¡¯t needed to.


    For that barest instant, I¡¯d sensed how the ambient mana itself seemed to move with the reincarnated man, accommodating his every breath. The air and fire and earth and water bowed to his will, the world seeming to show me his importance for a split instant. Here was a mage whose presence demanded the attention of even the mana itself.


    And it was not me alone who sensed Lance Godspell¡¯s intrusion. Toren Daen had focused with singular intensity on his location as well, then spoke nothing of what he must have perceived in the aftermath.


    Lord Daen himself marched behind me, adorned in his bronze armor and mask and dressed for battle. The look of surprise on his face when I¡¯d ordered his presence with me during the ambush had been something worth remembering, but that wasn¡¯t why I took him with me.


    I will have to prepare more puzzles in the off chance Toren manages to solve the one I gifted him for his birthday, I thought. That was one of the greatest lessons I¡¯d learned from Agrona Vritra: make plans for any eventuality, no matter how unlikely. I fondly remembered the fiery glint in the young musician¡¯s eyes as he dared me to find a puzzle he couldn¡¯t solve. That challenge was a mistake, Lord Daen. I hope your mind won¡¯t give out on me so quickly.


    But for all of Toren¡¯s intellect, he was only human. The young man was entirely correct in his earlier assertion that I had no place in his rooms or knocking on his door. I was a Scythe, after all, and he but a pawn on my board. But Toren was more inclined to try and backtrack over his blunders rather than address their verity.


    A useful thing to exploit, the emotions of young men.


    Toren was a wildcard, certainly. But even as a wildcard, he had patterns. Such as whenever he was alone, or felt comfortable, his tongue and mannerisms would loosen remarkably.


    I will have to send inquiries to Scythe Nico on what, precisely, poker is, I thought as my feet carried me onward. A game of chance and cards, certainly, but if it was region-specific on Earth, or bore some other significance¡­


    Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel was a game reserved solely for the upper class and well-to-do. There was a chance that ¡®poker¡¯ could be similarly divided along lines of class and wealth.


    I could divine far more of Toren¡¯s otherworld knowledge through simple paths such as that. I had no doubt within my mind that the young mage had been intentionally goading me as he vaunted his ¡°vast experiences.¡±


    I restrained a creeping smirk at that understanding. It was so very foolish of him to think himself safe after so openly taunting me.


    But I buried the vindictive smirk beneath the cold mask of a Scythe right alongside my whispering thoughts. As I glided into one of the rooms of my make-do estate, I spotted the man I was looking for.


    Wolfrum Redwater, wearing his illusory mask of Xander, stood at attention by the teleportation gate. I¡¯d found the boy with Vritra blood early on, nurturing his talents in secret as Renea Shorn first, before eventually revealing my true identity many years later.


    When his Vritra blood manifests, he will be an invaluable ally, I thought, striding forward. Though not yet.


    I had found many whose blood had yet to manifest. I had even made a habit of it. So that I could give them the choice I never had.


    ¡°Xander,¡± I said coolly, looking at the empty room, ¡°I will be gone for a short while. You are to maintain the standard operation of our forces until I return.¡±


    Wolfrum bowed low. ¡°Understood, Scythe Seris,¡± he said reverently. ¡°But¡­ if I may, what calls you away from our operations here?¡±


    I chanced the young man a glance, feeling my brow wrinkle slightly. ¡°It is not of your concern, Xander,¡± I said coolly. He averted his eyes at my quiet rebuke, then rushed off to fulfill my orders. The tap of his shoes on stone receded into the distance as I stared at the empty room.


    ¡°Hey, Seris?¡± Toren asked from behind me, his lack of decorum glaringly apparent. I turned to look at the young man, who suddenly seemed unsure. ¡°Are we going to fly out of here? Because I can¡¯t exactly, well¡­¡±


    I blinked, then suppressed another smile as I connected the dots of his suspicions. If we were to fly out of this cavern all the way to Sapin¡¯s northern border, then I would certainly have to carry the young mage for several hours straight at the minimum. He wasn¡¯t yet of the white core, after all, and couldn¡¯t fly himself.


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    ¡°Luckily for you, Lord Daen, that is not the case,¡± I said. ¡°I have been granted possession of a long-distance tempus warp by our High Sovereign for use only during emergencies due to its proximity to degradation.¡±


    ¡°Huh,¡± Toren muttered, sounding genuinely surprised. ¡°I didn¡¯t actually think of that, to be honest. It makes sense, though.¡±


    I withdrew the aforementioned artifact from my dimension ring, holding the anvil-shaped item as I faced the wall. I funneled mana into the device, feeling as the energy drew on my deep reserves. With a bare effort of will, I directed the activation to the stone in front of me. Slowly, a small portal fuzzed into existence in front of me, the other end leading exactly where my mind¡¯s eye was directed.


    So powerful a device, I thought, And so few are its uses. A shame how quickly the works of our ancestors wear away under our greedy hands.


    I held the tempus warp in my hands, banishing my slight melancholy. I had a mission to complete, and every extemporaneous thought risked derailing an otherwise steady hand.


    ¡°Stay close behind me and suppress your mana signature,¡± I commanded Lord Daen, my focus heavy on the portal in front of me. ¡°We cannot afford detection.¡±


    Without waiting for my companion¡¯s affirmation, I stepped through the portal. The transition was seamless as always, leaving me standing in a dusty room. Above me, old timbers creaked and groaned, each unseen to for what must have been an age. A table with chairs stacked on top sat not far away.


    Toren stepped through the portal a moment later. He did a slow rotation of the room, his soulful orange eyes inspecting every surface. ¡°This place looks like it hasn¡¯t been touched in a century,¡± he said, skeptically eying the supports. ¡°Are you sure it won¡¯t collapse on us?¡±


    ¡°We are currently in an abandoned house on the far outskirts of a town called Ashber,¡± I said coolly, striding forward. ¡°Not far away, Commander Uto prepares an ambush for Lance Godspell with Lance Balrog.¡± I tilted my head, turning to face the young musician behind me as he followed mutely. ¡°We will be on standby, ready to intervene in case of unforeseen circumstances.¡±


    Toren¡¯s mouth settled into a thin line of distaste at the mention of Uto. ¡°I understand,¡± he said stiffly.


    I walked outside of the dilapidated house¨Ca shack, really¨Cand immediately felt the biting cold air of winter on my skin. In Alacrya, it was the start of summertime. Dicathen was located on the northern hemisphere, however, flipping their relative seasons. I layered myself in a sheen of protective mana, blocking out that chill.


    But even here, spring shall eventually come, I thought, quietly yearning for the season of growth. I need only wait. Even the coldest winters pass.


    We were on the outskirts of a forest, not far away from the underground bunker Olfred Warend¨Ccodename Lance Balrog¨Chad created for our soldiers. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°The dawn is here,¡± I heard Toren say behind me, quiet awe in his words. ¡°It feels so good to be under the sky again.¡±


    Indeed, the rising morning sun cast the forest around us in a turbulent mixture of shadow and light as the far-off star crested the Grand Mountains, seeming to balance on the near tips for a moment. I allowed myself a small bit of relaxation, drinking in the sight.


    But the turbulent auras that crashed through the glade banished my brief moment of relaxation. Retainer Uto¡¯s dark, compressing squeeze was familiar to me. But the dominating presence that was awash with a dozen different flavors of power was not.


    They must have been several hundred feet away. I could feel the presence of a third power there, too, no doubt Arthur Leywin¡¯s dragon bond.


    And I knew with immediate certainty that Lance Godspell would lose this fight.


    ¡°They¡¯re fighting already,¡± Toren breathed, his eyes narrowing into pinpricks as he stared off into the distance. He looked back at me uncertainly, seeming to expect something. ¡°Is this¡­ to expectation?¡±


    An especially large burst of mana shook the earth, a draconic roar echoing through the air that caused every bird nearby to scatter in waves. A wave of wind fluttered against my dress as it pushed through the trees, causing my silver-lavender hair to flutter. That roar shifted into one of furious pain as Uto¡¯s mana flared.


    Toren took a few steps forward, his eyes utterly focused on the distant fight. That same pinpoint attention he¡¯d shown Nico seemed to overtake him once again, perhaps even more narrowly. And in doing so, he fed into one of the reasons I had brought him here in the first place.


    I exhaled a breath, feeling my heartbeat rise even further as I inspected Toren. From my talk with Nico Sever not a week past, I¡¯d put together what should have been an impossible puzzle of the young man. Coffee, skyscrapers, and phoenixes all slotted into a resounding conclusion to so many of the mysteries Toren displayed.


    He told me he lay dying in the forest when he was granted the power of his Phoenix Will, I thought, watching as Toren focused on the other reincarnate of this world. But¡­ what if he truly did die? What if the true Toren Daen died, and another took his place? One from a world beyond ours?


    It wasn¡¯t a perfect theory. If this were the truth, I still could not definitively explain how Toren fit so well into our culture or why he pursued the Joans with such a vengeance. But from how he focused on both reincarnates, I felt a certainty deep in my mana core that he knew of them. By sight or by sense, Spellsong of Fiachra knew Nico Sever and Arthur Leywin were not all they appeared.


    Toren¡¯s head suddenly turned toward me, his brow rising and his mouth opening slightly. He seemed to belatedly recognize how single-tracked his focus had been, intentionally smoothing over his features.


    He was getting better at that. Better at masking his emotions, ever since the summit with the High Sovereign.


    I settled my heartbeat in my chest, the sensation one I experienced whenever I grew close to the end of a puzzle. I reined in the mana of mine that had begun to ever-so-slightly leak past my iron control and veiling artifact.


    Toren could sense the intricacies of emotion through his magic. That much I had long ago deduced. After all, one of my closest jailors was the greatest magical empath I had ever met. It might not match up to Sovereign Orlaeth¡¯s probing touch, but my cloaking artifact did protect me from Toren¡¯s eyes. So he would not know my deepest thoughts.


    But sometimes I slipped. I allowed myself to grasp onto a feeling that was too deep and too real; wrenching away every mask I laid in place. And this young man seemed to make it a habit of his to pull those veils aside, uncaring of the scars they revealed beneath.


    I forced those thoughts away. My will was iron forged in the pits of Taegrin Caelum, and it wouldn¡¯t falter simply because of this man¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Beneath our feet, there is another battle being waged,¡± I said sharply. ¡°It seems Lance Olfred is engaged in combat with another white core mage, likely a Lance as well.¡±


    Were Toren not here, I would have been forced to choose between rescuing Arthur Leywin from Uto¡¯s gnarled grip and sparing an ally deep in the earth below.


    And I¡¯d expected something like this when I¡¯d allowed Lance Godspell to leave my cavern in Darv alive. The boy was reportedly quite close with the elven royal family, Commander Virion Eralith in particular, meaning he had input and political sway that would allow him to circumvent the normal Council. I had suspected the reincarnate walking into Uto¡¯s ambush was a deliberate decision, and considering the second battle I sensed far below us, it seemed Councilor Rahdeas was soon to be a prisoner.


    But now I need not choose. I had confidence that Toren was more than a match for any of the Lances, and I could ensure the survival of a critical dwarven ally. The board continued to shift, and just as the High Sovereign had taught me, I needed to prepare for any eventuality.


    ¡°And your task is to ensure Lance Olfred¡¯s continued survival against whatever force dogs his steps, since it appears his betrayal has been discovered,¡± I said at last.

 Chapter 183: A Dance of Death

    Olfred Warend


    The thin, hair-like strands all across my armor waved like reeds in the wind, quietly dancing in tune with my inevitable demise. The air in my lungs shuddered once more, my continued breathing only allowed by the elven lance across from me.


    I kept my hands raised in submission as I faced Aya. Her eyes were sharp and deadly, like the way she treated her enemies.


    I¡¯d lured the boy, Arthur Leywin, here on instruction from Elder Rahdeas. His disposal was supposed to be clean and quick, as my father needed. But Retainer Uto¨Cdamn the man¨Chad opted to go and fight, leaving me to face off with Lance Phantasm¨Cwho Arthur had brought in anticipation of my betrayal¨Cwithin the bunker I¡¯d created for the Alacryans.


    I only hope Rahdeas survives what is coming to him, I thought, feeling a vein in my neck pulse. The Council won¡¯t be merciful to him. But¡­ but I will not be here to protect him.


    I slowly nodded at the elven Lance across from me in acknowledgment. She had burns along her arms from where I¡¯d managed to score her body, but the damage was minimal. ¡°Despite our disagreements, it was an honor working with you,¡± I said honestly, preparing myself to die.


    I thought I saw a bare sliver of remorse in Aya¡¯s hard eyes, but I knew I¡¯d never be able to confirm it. The air left my lungs, streaming out in a slow swirl. I fell to my knees, my vision blackening at the edges as I prepared for Mother Earth¡¯s embrace.


    Will it only be darkness? I found myself thinking as shadow slowly overtook my body. Is¡­ is that all?


    My eyes finally closed, and I expected to never open them again.


    But then something strange happened. A buzzing, barely audible, brushed against my ears as it neared. And suddenly, I could breathe again. My lungs burned as I gasped, my eyes shooting open as I coughed. I retched dizzily as my vision flashed, my hands digging into the earth beneath my feet.


    Someone else stood over me, blocking the elven Lance from my sight. I blinked, struggling to focus my sight. Who¡­


    ¡°You managed to sever my mana strands,¡± Aya said, the mist around us suddenly thickening once more. ¡°Peculiar man. And who might you be, to interrupt my kill?¡± she asked, her voice dropping dangerously at the last words.


    The man shifted from where he stood over me, bronze armor flashing in the low light. ¡°Leave this place, Lance Phantasm,¡± he said, his voice wavering unnaturally. ¡°Olfred Warend will not die today.¡±


    ¡°Now, that¡¯s not something you can so casually decide,¡± Aya¡¯s smooth voice said, echoing from all sides. ¡°To deny a Lance her fight. I¡¯ve heard about you, though. The phoenix hybrid, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    I groaned as I struggled to pull myself to my feet, my body sluggish and unresponsive. I needed to fight, to¨C


    ¡°You¡¯re suffering from oxygen deprivation damage to your body. Retreat into the walls, Olfred,¡± a voice seemed to whisper right beside my other ear. The voice of the man above me. ¡°Scythe Seris is here to retrieve you. I can handle this here.¡±


    ¡°So rude to leave a lady out of your conversation,¡± Aya¡¯s voice feathered against my ear. ¡°There¡¯s another Alacryan here, then? That means I can get three heads in one simple attack!¡±


    Aya flashed out of the mist, her arm coated in a whirlwind of compressed air as she struck at the intruder. To my surprise, the man managed to deflect the strike, retaliating with a fist covered in burning fire. It went straight through the illusory form of the elven Lance.


    A distraction, I thought. And it¡¯s going to hit¨C


    The Alacryan thrust his hand out, throwing a trio of fireballs to the side. They impacted Aya¡¯s wind blades, but her attack scythed right through his own. The man leveraged a burning blade of mana, swinging it and destroying the wind attacks as they nearly reached my prone body.


    ¡°Go,¡± the man snapped, his strawberry-blonde hair whipping as he spun on his foot. ¡°I can¡¯t protect you and fight her at once!¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut, recognizing the truth of his words. Then I allowed the earth to swallow me, drawing me away from the coming battle.


    Toren Daen


    I exhaled in relief as Olfred Warend¡¯s body was subsumed by the earth, settling back into stance. Mission success on that end, I thought, my eyes darting around the pervading mist. I kept my ears strengthened with mana, trying to hone in on Aya Grephin¡¯s pulsing heartfire.


    All around me, eddies of mist swirled in a familiar way. The obscuring effects were the same as Karsien¡¯s mist used to be, except even more pronounced. I felt contained; my senses compressed into a small box that was too close for comfort. Sight and sound and touch all became mute, like I was dreaming underwater.


    But I¡¯d experienced this before.


    I leapt upward, dodging a few blades of compressed wind that would have cut off my legs. I twisted midair, swiping with my blade of shrouded fire. It bisected an illusory elf as they tried to rip out my throat.


    Just like Karsien, I thought, feeling my pulse in my ears as I blurred toward where I sensed the faintest heartbeat. The illusions can take physical form, but Lance Aya can¡¯t hide her true self from me!


    The mist parted around me as I shot through it like a rocket, my blade burning away every bit of fog that it trailed through. I appeared right in front of Aya Grephin, her eyes widening in shock as her Elshire Mist spell failed to mask her presence.


    I swung my blade sideways, trying to cut at the elven shadow. But for all that I was fast, the elf herself was no joke.


    A swirling whirlwind spear of wind compressed itself around the Lance¡¯s arm as my blade neared her head. She twisted supernaturally, my attack severing a few locks of hair as she ducked. She hissed like a cat, retaliating by trying to drive her arm into my side.


    Sensing that I couldn¡¯t avoid this naturally, I made a split-second decision and engaged my telekinetic emblem. A few flashes of white appeared along the black-haired elf¡¯s body, pulling us closer with a lurch.


    Her wind-clad hand clipped my bronze armor, rattling my body from the sheer force as it was drawn off course. But the punch that I sank into her stomach was more successful.


    Except¡­


    My eyes widened in surprise behind my mask as Aya Grephin somehow caught my hand, then twisted midair to throw me back down toward the ground. I tumbled through the air, the mist seeming to swallow me whole once again.


    I twisted as I shot back toward the earth, barely deflecting another blade of compressed air with a pulse of telekinesis. But then a gust of wind streaked in from the side, sending me flying into a wall.


    My telekinetic shroud cracked from the force as the wall rumbled, a crater opening behind me. I groaned in pain as I felt my ribs creak, but I had no time to adjust. The elven lance seemed to be able to almost teleport around her misty domain spell, her pulsing lifeforce echoing in flashes all around the cavern.


    ¡°If this is all you have to offer, Alacryan, I find myself almost disappointed in taking your head,¡± a sultry voice said from all sides, the sound seeming to somehow fade both in and out as it entered my eardrums. ¡°I¡¯ll have to find Olfred after this, too. Can¡¯t have your kind making more slave camps across our continent.¡±


    I allowed myself to drop, deflecting a crescent of compressed air off the flat of my shrouded saber. I felt the impact travel up my arm, rattling my bones and making my teeth clench.


    ¡°You cannot afford to hold back against this one,¡± Aurora advised. ¡°She is exceptionally skilled in her illusions. It is worthy of respect, even from one such as I.¡±


    I pressed outward with an unfocused nimbus of fire as I hit the ground, burning away a space of fog all around me. Yet more mist just seeped in like a creeping blanket, filling the area up once more.


    Yeah, she¡¯s far more skilled than Karsien was, I thought with gritted teeth. If I¡¯m not careful, I¡¯ll lose my neck.


    ¡°That won¡¯t work,¡± Aya mocked somewhere in the mists. ¡°This mist is that of the Elshire Forest. Your incursions will never see you through the dawn, Alacryan,¡± she said, an almost simpering allure in her echoing voice.


    I took a deep breath, then let it out. ¡°I¡¯m not much of a talker during battle, Lance Phantasm,¡± I said, feeling my pulse settle slightly, ¡°But if there are any with claim to the light of dawn, then I am certainly among them.¡±


    I engaged my Acquire Phase, the familiar warmth and insight traveling along my veins. I exhaled a bit of steam as Aurora¡¯s mind solidified near my own. The chains along my arm glowed, banishing the darkness all around.


    Aya Grephin¡¯s presence concealing abilities were absurd. Even in my First Phase, I struggled to detect her mana signature accurately from how it seemed to reverberate everywhere and nowhere at once. She seemed to be able to become the very wind itself, granting near-perfect movement through the entire space.


    But she could not hide the flame of her heart from me.


    I held a hand out to the side, engaging my magic. Fire and sound mana met in a cacophonous tangle, and a beam of searing solid plasma erupted from my palm. It left a hole in the mist that refused to be filled as it trailed in an unerring line toward where I knew the Lance to be.


    There was a sudden twist in the mana around me as Aya shifted, barely dodging the line of red energy. It slipped past her head, burrowing into the stone wall behind her. She stared, wide-eyed, at the hole of molten rock where my spell had melted a dozen feet through.


    I locked gazes with the Lance, who suddenly seemed far more determined as she hovered in the air. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve got some tricks up your sleeve, Alacryan,¡± she said, floating backward as her guard raised higher. ¡°You¡¯ll have to show me how you use sound magic like that,¡± she said, batting her eyelashes slowly.


    I felt a slight frown tug at the edges of my lips as I added a layer of vibrating sound to my shrouded saber, turning it from fire to plasma. I flourished Inversion, which acted as a focusing base for my blade, then pointed it at the Lance. ¡°I told you once, Lance Phantasm. Leave this place now.¡±


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    The mist around us finally began to surge back in, patching over the hole my plasma beam had seared. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that,¡± Aya said, her voice sounding as if it were right next to my ear. ¡°Not when I¡¯m so close. You¡¯ll have to forgive me, young man.¡±


    I turned my head, tracing Aya¡¯s red heartfire as she blitzed through her mist spell at absurd speeds. There was something wrong with that lifeforce, but I couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint what. It was¡­ somehow compressed


    in a way that made each flare slow and tenuous.


    I slid my foot back, squaring my stance as I leaned forward. ¡°I¡¯ll need to show you the error of your ways, then,¡± I whispered. Then I slammed a mindfire stamp into the earth, splintering the rock in a burst of fiery force. I blurred toward Aya¡¯s location, my plasma blade ready to cut and burn.


    Within the mist, I saw how Aya¡¯s lifeforce snapped to the side, attempting to avoid my assault. A flurry of compressed blades of wind, each as large as I was tall, arced toward me from the shadows like angry swallows.


    I didn¡¯t let her movement deter me. I used a few telekinetic pulls on the ground and ceiling, changing the momentum of my surge to whip toward the Lance. My saber bisected each wind blade with ease, passing through as if they didn¡¯t even exist.


    Aya tried to move back once more, but for once, she met someone who could match her speed. I followed in hard pursuit, my blade deflecting anything that got too close.


    An illusory clone leapt from the mists, trying to spear me with wind-shrouded hands. I peppered them with plasmashot, obliterating them as they appeared. Soon, I appeared in front of the Lance.


    Her sharp face was a mask of determination as she thrust her hand out at me, a torrent of wind erupting that pushed me like a tornado. I tumbled away, each gale like that of a hurricane as it threw me back. I cursed internally as I was whipped backward, the sudden force disorienting and destructive. The mist coated my skin, seeping under my clothes and robbing me of heat.


    I snarled, swiping my blade and releasing an arc of plasma. It surged through the gale undeterred, scything toward the still-retreating Lance like an executioner¡¯s axe. I sensed my attack hit, the gale sputtering out.


    I tumbled once along the ground, then reoriented and settled myself on my feet. My breathing was slightly heavy, my pulse racing in my veins. I looked up at the hovering Lance Aya. Her face was a mask of pain as she clenched her shoulder, a smoking cut along it from my earlier attack.


    I smirked slightly as I settled my breathing. Aya¡¯s powerset was a horrible matchup for my own abilities. She relied on her high mobility and undetectable presence to be a dagger in the dark, striking where one least expected her and evading easily in turn. She was an assassin true and true, relying on guerilla tactics and sly use of her illusions.


    But I was almost as fast as the Lance, if not faster with my telekinesis. In this enclosed space, I could maneuver myself expertly using the ceiling and floor as supports. And my ability to see her heartfire negated her greatest advantage of stealth.


    ¡°It seems I need to take you more seriously,¡± Aya said through gritted teeth, making her voice sound more alluring with her sound magic. ¡°Such powerful magic for one so low,¡± she mocked.


    ¡°You are going to lose this fight, Aya Grephin,¡± I said with certainty. ¡°Leave now. My objective is not to kill you.¡±


    ¡°So kind of you to worry for my health,¡± Aya said mockingly. ¡°But if you¡¯re so eager for me to leave, it makes me wonder what you¡¯re trying to hide.¡±


    Just that I genuinely don¡¯t want to kill you, I thought with internal irritation. Ever think of that?


    I sighed. ¡°Okay then,¡± I said, allowing my plasma saber to dissipate, leaving just Inversion in my hand. The white horn glowed with a familiar warmth. ¡°Then this is going to hurt a lot more than it needed to.¡±


    I hurled Inversion at the Lance, accelerating it like a railroad spike with a pulse of telekinesis. There was a distorted boom as the horn broke the sound barrier, the mist rippling around it as it became a streak of white, orange, and purple.


    Lance Aya zipped to the side, barely avoiding the horn as it streaked past her. The horn sank deep into the roof of the cave, but I was already moving.


    I shot toward the elven Lance, my hands coated in vibrating sound as I threw a punch at her face. She ducked that easily enough, but my telekinetic knee that impacted her gut sent her body lurching higher up into the air. Even as the strike hit, however, she managed to turn slightly to lessen the impact of the blow. She grunted in pain, a bit of blood leaving her lips.


    With a pull on Inversion above, it dislodged from the ceiling, surging back toward Phantasm. Aya seemed to sense the attack as it streaked toward her, beginning to twist supernaturally as her mist shrouded her body in a wraithlike figure.


    I lashed out with a few telekinetic pulls on her body. They weren¡¯t strong enough to truly do any damage, but I didn¡¯t need them to. Only to keep her off balance. A spattering of fire appeared around Inversion as it streaked for the elven lance¡¯s body. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I surged up, and Inversion streaked down. Like the jaws of a beast, my pincer attack was poised to bite into the Lance from two sides.


    Yet somehow, impossibly, the Lance managed to contort herself in a way that made me jealous as I shot past, arcing for the ceiling. Her eyes flashed victoriously as I caught Inversion, using it to try and deflect the spear of wind that sought my skull. But as I batted that aside, I left myself exposed.


    Aya¡¯s singed hands shot out like a vicious snake, ensorcelling my dominant hand and holding it fast. She flowed like the wind as she grappled with me, forcing the hand with Inversion behind my back before slamming me up against the ceiling, pinning me against my own daggerlike horn. A spiderweb of cracks spread from the impact, and I felt my ribs creak and fracture from the blow. My weapon drove itself through my bronze soulmetal armor, piercing my stomach and erupting out somewhere around my spleen. Pain exploded across my body, blood leaking from my lips as I snarled.


    Aya leaned in close to me, her breathing heavy and her mana shuddering as she held me against the ceiling. She kept my other arm pinned with her own, effectively immobilizing me on the stone as she mounted my chest upside-down. A forearm pressed against my throat as she threatened to choke me out. I could make out the perfect curve of her face as her lips brushed against my ear.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re almost my type,¡± she said sweetly, though the words came out as gasps. ¡°It¡¯s been too long since I¡¯ve had a good chase. Shame you¡¯re an Alacryan, though. Your head will look pretty when I deliver it to the Council,¡± she whispered, seeming to think this battle was over.


    My blood streamed down across Aya¡¯s white uniform, tainting it red that flickered with orange and purple. And as that stream of crimson splashed over the Lance¡¯s chest, the interplay revealed it to me. The strangeness that I felt in her lifeforce solidified into something more, and I knew what I had been sensing. ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry about that,¡± I ground out.


    I built up a telekinetic push along my chest, a flurry of white mingling with my red blood. Aya sensed it well in time, of course, but she had to change her grapple to avoid the explosion of force. She released my hand as she shifted, building up another compressed spear of wind over her knife-like arm to drive into my skull.


    I slammed a punch into her side, feeling my ribs creak and my body protest in agony. The elven Lance barely shifted, but that was enough. Her hand drove into the rock instead of my head.


    Then I headbutted her. My metal facemask was certainly harder than the elf¡¯s bones, and I felt her nose crunch under my brutish attack. She reeled, blinking in surprise as blood sprayed from her face.


    And she released my throat. That was a mistake.


    I pressed my palm against her chest, fighting through the pain as I slowly bled out. I hissed through the blood coating my teeth, then released an explosive burst of telekinetic fire point blank across her sternum.


    She shot back down to the ground with the force of a cannonball, the expansive mist evaporating as her mana core was rattled. The impact of the elven Lance¡¯s body with the ground sent tremors through the entire structure, causing dust to fall and chips of rock to tumble to the floor.


    I fell from the ceiling myself, wincing as I tapped down on the ground. With a pained grunt, I ripped Inversion from my stomach, panting as I slowly healed over the wound. It wasn¡¯t an easy thing to mend, considering the level of damage. I had to be deliberate and intentional as I focused on healing.


    ¡°You did not fight to kill, Toren,¡± Aurora admonished in my head, her worry palpable as I gradually regrew my inner organs. ¡°And thus, this elf wounded you deeply. Were you more ready to use my plasma arts, this would not have been such a tough battle.¡±


    I don¡¯t want her dead, I thought, feeling my blood rise. But she made that kind of fucking difficult.


    I marched over to where I felt the weakly sputtering mana signature of the Lance, a cloud of dust surrounding the impact crater. But through the glowing insight of my Acquire Phase, I could still see her flickering heartfire. And now that I¡¯d seen the interplay, something else as well, streaking out from her chest.


    I released a pulse of wide-area telekinesis in front of me, blowing away the dust around Lance Aya¡¯s body. She lay unconscious at the bottom of a crater the size of a house. Though her arms were seared and ragged burns stretched across her chest where I¡¯d unleashed my last attack and I was certain she¡¯d broken a few of her ribs on impact, I knew from her lifeforce that she¡¯d survive.


    I spat a wad of blood to the side. ¡°I fucking hate mist users,¡± I bemoaned as I watched the Lance¡¯s body, inspecting it for any sign of consciousness. ¡°Stay down this time,¡± I snarled, turning away when I saw none. Her rapid heartbeat had evened out in a manner that told me she was no longer awake, and her breathing had evened out as well.


    I rolled my shoulders, running a hand over my side where my scaled armor had been pierced. It¡¯s a shame it got damaged so soon, I thought sadly. Sevren really put his heart into this.


    But as I strode toward the exit, I paused as I noticed a strange reaction from the armor. It seemed to be¡­ absorbing the remaining lifeforce from my blood that still stained it. If i looked close enough, I could swear the metal was regenerating. Like the sprouting leaves of the branches of a tree, reddish bronze metal seemed to solidify as it grew.


    Well, that¡¯s nice, I thought absently. I won¡¯t have to tell Sevren about¨C


    I snapped my hand out behind me on instinct, cinching my fingers shut like the sides of a vice.


    Aya¡¯s arm, wrapped in a shroud of compressed wind, fell limp as her spell evaporated, a cool breeze blowing through my hair as it dissipated.


    She gasped as she fell to her knees behind me, her eyes blown wide and uncomprehending as her last-ditch sneak attack failed. I held my hand out, my fingers coated in orange-purple lifeforce as they grasped empty air.


    Except it wasn¡¯t empty. I held a red tether of heartfire tightly, feeling the flow of energy as it coursed under my skin. Aya¡¯s heartbeat increased as true terror suffused her intent, a primal sort of fear threading her bones as I held her life in my hand.


    I saw how this tether led directly to Aya¡¯s heart, wrapping it in an almost familiar way, even though this vein of energy was not of my creation.


    ¡°Your Lance artifacts,¡± I muttered, my hand gently yet firmly holding the chain that bound the elven Lance¡¯s heart, ¡°They were made by a phoenix, Phantasm. An Asclepius. The tether that binds you to your monarchs is a weakness you never knew.¡±


    The Lance''s breathing increased as she knelt, held in a rictus posture of submission as I grasped her binding oaths. She stared up at me, wide eyed and uncomprehending.


    ¡°I told you many, many times to leave, General Aya,¡± I hissed, feeling anger rise in my gut at her attempted backstab. ¡°This. Is. The. Last. Time,¡± I snarled, feeling as my Phoenix Will burned against my mana channels. ¡°So go. Tend to Lance Godspell and go back to your Council. If you don¡¯t, I will pull on this tether I hold, and your heart will cease to beat, as the artifacts intended. Do you understand?¡±


    The elven Lance nodded slowly, her eyes focusing slightly through her fear. I narrowed my eyes, taking that as confirmation.


    I turned around, walking away once more. This time, however, I maintained my grip on the Lance¡¯s tether as I went, denying her any chance to strike my back once more.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Aya¡¯s voice called out, slightly nasal from her broken nose. ¡°Wait!¡±


    I paused, turning to look at the elven mage. Gone was her supernatural seductive aura, banished as her mana reserves neared empty. Her shoulder-length black hair clung to her bloodied face, her pristine skin covered in dust and scrapes.


    ¡°Why¡­ why spare me?¡± she asked, still kneeling. ¡°You could kill me. Remove a threat!¡±


    I looked into the woman¡¯s eyes, seeing the confusion within. ¡°This war is far more complicated than just Alacrya and Dicathen,¡± I said sternly, sheathing Inversion at my side. ¡°It is asura versus asura. We lessers are afterthoughts. Never forget that,¡± I said with iron, turning on my heel and stalking toward the exit at last.

 Chapter 184: To Fulfill His Wishes

    Toren Daen


    I trudged slowly up the stone staircase, a slight ache radiating from my core. I¡¯d expended a decent bit of mana fighting Aya Grephin, and each painful step told me exactly what my body thought of what I¡¯d put it through.


    But each step I took was absent, devoid of conscious intent as my body acted on its own. Even as I left the scene of battle behind, my mind was elsewhere, thoughts awhirl on the possible ramifications of my actions.


    Of saving Olfred Warend from execution.


    ¡°This is the second true divergence you have enacted upon this world, is it not?¡± Aurora questioned lightly, buoying my thoughts along. The Unseen World blanketed my senses as the phoenix shade strode by my side. Except where Aya¡¯s mist had been suffocating and claustrophobic, each swirl and eddy seeming to box me into an inescapable pit, the mists of the Unseen World were a cool blanket across my mind.


    Aside from barring Circe Milview from the war, it is my first direct change, I internally acknowledged. But I hadn¡¯t expected something like this. It¡¯s entirely outside of my realm of prediction.


    I¡¯d vowed to change this world¡¯s future for the better, and I certainly had plans in place to do so soon. But I hadn¡¯t deeply considered how else I would change this world, either.


    Would Olfred¡¯s survival make the future brighter? Darker?


    I didn¡¯t know.


    But this makes your predictions truly uncertain, Aurora said, her shade shifting to look at me with sun-crested eyes. Does this not¡­ make your plans difficult? Make our course uncertain?


    I hadn¡¯t told Aurora the exact specifics of my future plans, only vague outlines as I cemented them further in my head.


    I walked around a bend as I ascended further. There was a darkness to this cavern that no light could truly banish. Probably because of all the corpses Aya left behind of Alacryan soldiers, I thought bitterly.


    I¡¯m no puppet master like Agrona, I told my bond as I focused on the path ahead. I never deluded myself into thinking I was some sort of master architect who could set events up exactly as I needed. But¡­


    It was simply a fact of life that my knowledge of the future would very quickly become null and void once too many ¡®changes¡¯ piled up. My direct expectations for events could only take me so far.


    I had my own plans, of course: plans to hopefully shift this war to something that benefitted everyone but Agrona. I found my mind drifting towards the Beast Glades.I¡¯d have to find an excuse to visit there sometime soon.


    But I only need to alter a few choice things, I thought, resolve surging through my body. And my knowledge of people¡¯s motivations, desires, and wishes is what will truly aid me once the future becomes too derailed from what I used to know.


    Like Seris¡¯ desire for rebellion.


    I wondered why I was so ready to act on the Scythe¡¯s orders to save Olfred. By doing so, I¡¯d certainly caused ripples in time that I would never be able to account for. I could probably have allowed Aya to execute her ¡®traitorous¡¯ former comrade, then claim I was too late to rescue the dwarf.


    But it was unlike me to let one in need simply perish. Furthermore, I wasn¡¯t some god who could dictate what events I wanted and didn¡¯t want to play out. That path led to madness, each moment spent meticulously questioning the butterfly effects of my actions. I would never sleep soundly, constantly second-guessing even the inflection in my voice.


    But beyond that¡­ Beyond that, I trusted Seris.


    That realization actually made me halt in my step for a moment. I realized I trusted her to make decisions that would improve this world, regardless of what I immediately thought. Maybe I couldn¡¯t predict what good¨Cor bad¨COlfred¡¯s survival would bring Dicathen and Alacrya. But I had faith in Seris¡¯ vision.


    My hackles had been raised when I¡¯d learned Renea Shorn¡¯s true identity. The implications of all her maneuvering and the danger it represented was not lost on me. But recently¡­


    ¡°You are more than fond of the Scythe, my bond,¡± Aurora said gently, a cross between teasing and questioning in her voice. ¡°I find myself surprised by your choice of mate. After the entire debacle with your basilisk blood, I would have thought you more wary than this.¡±


    I still wasn¡¯t truly certain of Seris¡¯ short-term plans regarding me. Part of me still felt unnerved by her political ploys, but much of that had vanished in the wake of her assignment of me to be an ambassador to Darv.


    My earlier vision of Renea Shorn¨Cthe person who cared deeply even for the smallest life¨Chad been reinforced by every action I¡¯d pieced apart so far. It wasn¡¯t just my otherworld knowledge pushing me forward.


    I coughed into my fist, averting my eyes from the quiet knowing in my bond¡¯s gaze. She had a distinct way of making me feel embarrassed about this when I really shouldn''t be. Something about how I struggled to hide my thoughts and emotions from her, I guessed. ¡°If a djinn and a phoenix can find a way, I don¡¯t see the impossibility of a phoenix and basilisk.¡±


    Aurora smiled slowly, a motherly cast of amusement making me internally cringe in embarrassment. She opened her mouth to speak, before she turned to the side, her amusement washing away into something more stern.


    The Unseen World vanished as I caught the rumbling beats of someone¡¯s lifeforce up ahead, seeming to coalesce from the earth.


    Olfred Warend leaned on a conjured staff of earth for support, looking at me warily from the top of the stairs. The dwarf¡¯s bronze skin bore a few cuts from his earlier duel with Aya, and his ash-black hair¨Ckept in a ponytail¨Clooked disheveled and worn. His neatly trimmed beard shifted as he looked down at me, the light casting his shadow long and dark.


    I stopped, looking up at the dwarven Lance. His intent radiated a deep caution that seemed to seep into my own bones, drawing a mirrored feeling from my own gut.


    ¡°Is Aya alive?¡± the dwarf asked gruffly.


    ¡°She¡¯s got more than a few broken ribs,¡± I replied, narrowing my eyes, ¡°But she¡¯ll live to fight another day.¡±


    The dwarf shifted from one foot to the other, blinking his eyes to focus them. He seemed to be still fighting off the damage Aya had done via oxygen deprivation. ¡°You didn¡¯t kill her, Alacryan?¡±


    He didn¡¯t seem upset by the news of her survival. A strange sense of both relief and fear radiated from his mana signature instead.


    I marched up the stairs, facing the dwarf as he blocked my path. ¡°My orders were to save your life, nothing more.¡± I paused. ¡°And my name is Toren Daen, not Alacryan.¡±


    Still watching me with disguised caution, Olfred finally stepped aside, allowing me past. I plodded up past him, internally making plans to meet back up with Seris.


    She¡¯s probably done with Uto by now, I thought, moving toward the low light above. Which means we¨C


    A putrid stench hit my nose, causing me to gag with the suddenness of it. I coughed slightly, the scent of blood, excrement, and body odor hitting me like a wave.


    But what was worse was the heartfires above. I could sense the ragged state of a few dozen people not far away, the subtleties of their heartbeats telling me their wounds and abuse.


    ¡°Never saw what your kind used for a cover-up here, Alacryan?¡± Olfred mused behind me, quiet contempt lacing his tone. ¡°I killed the bastard who was sellin¡¯ these slaves, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough.¡±


    I remembered belatedly what I was sensing. Under the guise of ¡®Cladence,¡¯ Olfred had followed Sebastian¨Cthe disgraced former court mage of the Glayders¨Cto his little slave market, before entombing the man in a cast of burning magma.


    I turned my head over my shoulder, glaring daggers at the dwarven Lance. His insinuation that I was somehow connected to the slavers churned something dark in my gut. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that you were the one who hollowed out that bunker down below,¡± I snapped. ¡°You made this entire operation possible.¡±


    The Lance stepped back as if I¡¯d slapped him, surprise and shock on his face before anger slowly took its place. ¡°I only did so to bring about Rahdeas¡¯ vision. We aren¡¯t the same.¡±


    I marched toward the holding cells, focusing on the heartfires I could sense were in the most dire straights. ¡°Not all Alacryans are the same, Balrog,¡± I said. ¡°Retainer Uto was happy to lead this group with a callous hand, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve never chafed against the state of affairs the Greysunders left in their wake, did you?¡± I bit back.


    Olfred went silent at my rebuke, his intent simmering behind me.


    But I was lashing out for a different reason. The idea that I was complicit in these acts of war¡­ It rankled something deep inside of me. That no matter what I did during this war, my conscience would be stained crimson by my very participation, regardless of my actions.


    But as I made my way toward one of the cells, tracing the sound of the most damaged heartbeats, another threaded to my ears.


    It was small. So faint I almost couldn¡¯t hear it, a bare thump-thump-thump that seemed to struggle with every pulse.


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    The blood drained from my face as the tiny heartbeat seemed to echo like the ringing of a gong in my mind. Without sparing Olfred another glance, I engaged my telekinetic emblem, surging toward the entrance of the bunker.


    I saw two people there. One woman had her hand nailed to the ground by a dagger, her eyes rolled back into her head from unconsciousness. The other was a man with a shattered arm, whimpering on the cold stone.


    And between them was the stone coffin containing Sebastian. But I ignored them, my eyes wide and wild as I reached a specific cell.


    I tried the handle. It was locked.


    I snarled, then built a telekinetic push along my hand. I let it burst, blowing the gate away with an explosion of force. It smashed against the far wall in a crumple of metal.


    I threw myself inside, following my ears.


    And I saw it. A newborn babe, still wrinkly and red, was silent as they lay atop a stone bed. The baby was uncovered, slowly losing body heat to the winter chill outside. Their little chest barely rose.


    The Unseen World appeared around me as I threw myself at the small body, calling my heartfire to my hands as I removed my leather gloves. I cradled the small form in my arms, coating us both in a layer of fire mana to ward off the cold.


    With my assimilated asuran physique and natural fire affinity, the seasonal cold had become less than a nuisance. I¡¯d almost forgotten how the weather was barely above freezing, and these slaves¡­


    None were afforded heat. No blankets. No torches. Nothing. Only their own blood and shit to remind them of their mortality.


    And as I desperately struggled to heal this child, I found my hatred rising. Aurora¡¯s face was marred by deep worry as she watched me struggle to keep this newborn alive.


    Olfred entered a moment later, surprise rippling through the dwarf as I turned to face him, babe in my arms and nuzzled close to my heart.


    ¡°Break their chains, Balrog,¡± I said, feeling my anger churn. Aurora¡¯s surged in equal measure, her hands brushing the newborn girl¡¯s hair.


    ¡°Her mother,¡± the Lance whispered, his gruff voice somber as he stared past me.


    I knew the cold corpse of a slave woman stared out with empty eyes behind me, devoid of hope. This babe¡¯s mother, dead in childbirth.


    ¡°Council reinforcements will be here soon,¡± I ground out, my mana signature fluctuating and rippling as I struggled to hold back my fury. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here any longer, Olfred. So we¡¯re going to evacuate these people.¡±


    My heartbeat sounded in my ears, driving my steps as I marched out of the cell. I¡¯d wanted to heal as many men and women as I could, but I knew it was a vain hope.


    I went cell by cell, a sharp snap of my boot cratering each gate inward. Most of the slaves¨Cof all ages, races, and genders¨Clooked out with fear as they shied away from my barely restrained aura.


    ¡°The child, Toren!¡± Aurora said quickly, shuffling to my side. ¡°Your intent is too thick for her!¡±


    I looked down at the baby girl in my arms, belatedly realizing she was gasping for breath. A wave of guilt snuffed out my anger like water over a fire, leaving only emptiness in its place.


    As I gradually opened each cell, nearly two score people in dirty rags were revealed to the air. Elves, dwarves, and humans alike bore the scars of whips and showed ribs from malnourishment.


    Most shied away from me in fear as I stalked back toward the entrance. And while the terror in their eyes made my own anger at these slavers kindle higher, it was those with empty eyes¨Cdevoid of passion or will¨Cthat truly scared me.


    I found myself selfishly grateful that none of these slaves were mages. So I wouldn¡¯t have to feel that void in their intent.


    I stopped in front of the entrance, then turned to look at the gathered slaves. Some hadn¡¯t left their cells even after being freed, but most had.


    ¡°Are there any among you,¡± I said, altering my voice so that it sounded more welcoming, ¡°Who can care for a child? At least for a short while?¡±


    Nobody spoke. All my question earned was shuffling steps and uncertain glances.


    I recognized then how I must appear. Covered in battle armor and caked in my own blood, I must¡¯ve appeared like I¡¯d stepped straight from a scene of war. And considering these men and women had likely been subjected to my aura far below the earth, I was astounded they could even stand right now.


    I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, allowing myself to become more centered. ¡°Forces from the Triunion Council will be here soon,¡± I said more quietly. ¡°You¡¯ll be cared for. Fed. Clothed. But in the short time until then, I need someone to take this child. Please.¡±


    It took a moment, but eventually, an older man finally stepped forward on legs that looked like they could¡¯ve been made of matchsticks. He didn¡¯t speak, only held out his arms in a gesture of resolve.


    I moved forward slowly, feeling the young girl¡¯s heartbeat against my own as I cradled her close. Then I carefully; gingerly set the girl into the former slave¡¯s waiting arms.


    Olfred watched somberly behind me, gripping the haft of a stone mace he¡¯d conjured to smash the gates of the holding cells inward.


    I turned on my heel, stalking back toward Sebastian¡¯s two accomplices. With each step, my heart seemed to thunder louder, each thump resonant and deep.


    I stared down at the woman whose hand had been staked to the floor. Distantly, I remembered that Arthur had done that, leaving her behind before facing down with Uto.


    The woman remained unconscious, but the man¡­ The bearded fool clutched his broken arm, staring up at me in pain and terror. He was utterly locked in place by the fervor of my killing intent.


    I looked back at the statue Olfred had left of Sebastian. I could kill these two. They were certainly destined for the gallows no matter what I did for engaging in interracial slavery, but¡­


    I felt the trembling lifeforces of the two score of freed slaves behind me.


    ¡°No,¡± I sneered, looking down at the shell-shocked assistant, ¡°You aren¡¯t mine to kill.¡±


    I walked past him, Olfred trailing mutely behind me as we finally stepped out under the open sky. The slaves didn¡¯t follow; not yet. They had business to do with their captors.


    I walked into the forest, my intent finally cooling somewhat as I left that hellhole behind. The only other experience that surpassed the raw brutality of this was the utter monstrosity of Mardeth¡¯s experiments beneath East Fiachra.


    It seemed, regardless of race or continent, there would always be monsters.


    ¡°Where are we goin¡¯, Daen?¡± Olfred asked behind me. ¡°You were right about Dicathian reinforcements coming soon. Unless you can fly, I don¡¯t see how we¡¯re escaping this without more bloodshed.¡±


    His tone wasn¡¯t hostile like it had been before. It appeared that in our mutual act of freeing those slaves, Lance Balrog and I had reached common ground.


    ¡°Alacrya isn¡¯t as limited as Dicathen in our modes of transport,¡± I said seriously, not giving any more explanation. I was too tired to do so. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I reached the dilapidated shack soon enough. When I opened the door, Scythe Seris was waiting for me mutely within.


    The silver-haired woman turned slightly, looking me up and down with onyx eyes. I might have enjoyed the way she inspected me at any other time, but all I felt now was a deep exhaustion.


    ¡°You took longer than anticipated, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said smoothly. ¡°Were there any complications in your mission?¡±


    Her eyes flicked to Olfred behind me, who stood stock-still as her aura hit him. He narrowed his eyes, his meaty hands clenching with an emotion I couldn¡¯t discern.


    I ground my teeth. ¡°I engaged in combat with Lance Phantasm as she threatened to execute Lance Balrog,¡± I replied curtly. ¡°After a prolonged battle, she was forced to retreat. However¡­¡± I trailed off, images of the slaves¡¯ empty eyes flashing in my mind. And the newborn babe, nearly going still from the cold.


    ¡°However?¡± Seris prodded, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°I allowed myself to get sidetracked. There were prisoners held above who needed medical attention, and I could not leave them to their fate.¡±


    The corner of Seris¡¯ lip perked up nearly imperceptibly, before it smoothed back out. ¡°Very well, then. It is fortunate that you succeeded in your task, Lord Daen, as I was unfortunately too late to save Uto from his fate in battle. Lance Godspell emerged victorious in their skirmish before I could intervene.¡±


    I looked into the Scythe¡¯s eyes, and I felt a bit of my good mood return as my lips threatened to curve into a smile. She showed no indication of what she¡¯d truly done to Uto, but I quietly relished in the knowledge that she¡¯d snapped his horns and left him a shattered husk.


    It was what the monster deserved.


    Seris tilted her head, a brow raised as she caught me staring. I shoved my hands in my pockets as this good news served to balance my tumult of emotions a bit.


    ¡°Is there something else you wish to say?¡± Seris pushed, reading the emotions on my face as she always did. ¡°From the look on your face, it would appear that you are satisfied by the fall of our comrade.¡±


    Ever the pretense, I thought with amusement. Seris and I both knew she was beyond Arthur Leywin. Even if Arthur had somehow defeated Uto, she could¡¯ve easily ended his life after¨Cbut she made no mention of that. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, Seris,¡± I said. ¡°I think Uto has whatever is coming to him.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyebrows rose slightly, her eyes flashing. ¡°You are a crueler man than I thought, Lord Daen. But if all is accomplished, let us depart.¡± She turned around, mana flowing as she flourished her tempus warp, preparing to engage the portable portal.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Olfred said behind me. ¡°I don¡¯t answer to your orders, Scythe. Rahdeas is my only master. Where are you trying to take me?¡±


    Seris turned slowly, her grace suffusing her movements like the cutting arc of her namesake through wheat. ¡°And on what grounds, Lance, do you have to refuse?¡±


    ¡°I am not under your command,¡± Olfred retorted, standing in the doorway. ¡°Rahdeas¨C¡±


    ¡°Is certainly going to be treated as a prisoner,¡± Seris interrupted smoothly. ¡°His status as a spy has been uncovered, and he will be in no position to give you any sort of orders.¡±


    Olfred ground his teeth, glaring hatefully at Seris. Sensing his animosity, I stepped forward slightly, imposing myself between them on instinct as I faced the Lance.


    ¡°The way I see it, you have two options,¡± Seris continued, unphased by Olfred¡¯s hostility. ¡°You can wait here. The forces of Dicathen will arrive shortly, and though you might be able to survive on your own for a while, it will only be a matter of time before you are tracked down. This far from any base of support or sustenance you¡¯ll be hunted like prey.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Seris said slyly, a hand caressing her chin, ¡°You can come with us. You will have a base of support, shelter from the Triunion, which will no doubt decry you as traitor, and above all¡­¡± Her dark eyes flashed. ¡°Perhaps an eventual chance to rescue the man you call father.¡±


    Olfred hesitated. He clearly recognized the trap he found himself in, but there was an ounce of stubborn pride that stopped him from taking that final step.


    But the dwarven Lance, ultimately, had no choice. He stepped forward, his shoulders slumping slightly.


    ¡°Do what you need, witch,¡± he snapped.


    Seris¡¯ mouth turned down into a slight frown at his curse, but that was the only outward sign of her displeasure. She imbued her mana into the tempus warp in her hand, a portal shimmering into existence before her.


    She strode toward the portal, but paused for a bare moment. ¡°Lance,¡± she said severely, ¡°I have been lenient with you considering Rahdeas¡¯ alliance with my forces, but that only extends so far. Do not insult me again. The next time you utter such words, my retribution will be swift. Do you understand?¡±


    She punctuated her statement with the barest flash of her aura. That hurricane of power¨Cwhich usually was restrained as if stopped in time¨Cwhipped outward. Lance Olfred gritted his teeth, stumbling backward at the sudden force. I stood my ground, resisting the pulse of power through sheer practice and expertise in intent.


    When it was done, Olfred¡¯s face was matted with sweat. His hair clung to his face as he stared warily at the Scythe¡¯s back, a deep, deep uncertainty threading from his mana core.


    Scythe Seris stepped through her portal. I trailed after her, entering the gaping portal that led back to our base in Darv.


    And a beat later, Olfred Warend entered the tempus warp, before the portal closed behind us.


    Only when I emerged on the other side did I realize that Seris had never explicitly stated that she¡¯d left Uto alive¨Cand my words implied knowledge of what would happen to him after.

 Chapter 185: Lance Artifacts

    Arthur Leywin


    I drifted on eddies of thought, allowing time to myself in the aftermath of my battle with Uto. I lounged against Sylvie¡¯s body, thinking happy thoughts for the barest moments. My bond¡¯s rhythmic breathing added a therapeutic cast to my deepest subconscious.


    I let myself think of what might be after the war. When all the violence and killing and grim darkness was gone.


    Unbidden, an image of Tess popped into my mind. Older, perhaps, but still just as beautiful. And as I found my dream self staring into her shy, turquoise eyes, I found myself wanting to pull away. I couldn¡¯t afford such thoughts. Couldn¡¯t afford to let myself¡­ To let myself want happiness.


    But after the hellish battle I¡¯d just gone through and the heart-stopping arrival of Scythe Seris, I felt that I had earned something like this. To remind myself exactly what I fought for.


    The phantom image of Tess laughed at something I¡¯d just said, her smile bright enough to light up the world. She glanced up at me shyly, her pale cheeks dusted with just a hint of red. She stepped closer to me, and suddenly, we were chest-to-chest. I felt my own heartbeat rise, and even within this dream, I could feel the heat of her own heart just near mine.


    She stood on her toes, closing her eyes as she tilted her head upward. Her long lashes quivered as her blush deepened.


    Can I have this? I thought as I felt my consciousness slipping away further, growing more and more immersed in the dream. Can I ever have this without becoming too selfish, willing to throw it all away for a simple kiss?


    Just before our lips brushed, Tess was ripped away from me. I felt the sudden lack of warmth deep within my soul, feeling as if I had been thrust unclothed into a winter storm.


    I faced a mirror image of myself. The former me stared back, an unnerving void within his eyes. King Grey¡¯s emotions were banished, disposed of when they held him back.


    What makes you think you can have this happiness¨Cthat you deserve this happiness? King Grey asked, iron in his voice honed over a hundred battles.


    After what you did to them, do you think you can just forget and move on? Nico and Cecilia died because of your choices. Your selfishness tore your world apart once. What do you think will happen if you allow yourself such luxuries again? S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Whether you¡¯re King Grey or Arthur Leywin, you can only exist alone.


    I spun aimlessly through the void as names bounced against my head.


    Grey, or Arthur. Grey, or Arthur.


    A dream of the future quickly devolved into a spiraling nightmare as images of my past life flashed before my eyes. Cecilia¡¯s blood as it stained my hands, her dying body sliding down my sword. Her empty eyes as they quietly thanked me for a deed I¡¯d never wanted to perform. And Nico¡¯s own expression, wrought with deepest despair as I slew his fiance before his eyes.


    ¡°Arthur!¡±


    I jolted awake with a gasp, clutching my chest as beads of sweat dripped down my face. I blinked a few times, Cecilia¡¯s bloodstained face still popping up in my vision.


    I looked up as I centered myself, banishing thoughts of my past life. Aya stood before me, but she looked like she¡¯d been thrust through hell. Her white uniform was tattered and burned, and a deep laceration nearly seared through the bone on her shoulder. Her nose was clearly broken, a smattering of dark purple splotching around it. She was clutching her chest with one hand, and from her wheezing breath, I suspected she¡¯d broken a few ribs.


    My eyes widened as I took in my fellow Lance¡¯s sorry state.


    Her expression relaxed as I stared up at her, flickering to one of relief. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t wake up no matter how hard I shook you,¡± she said, her voice slightly nasal, ¡°I was beginning to worry something had happened during the fight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just a bit tired,¡± I said, trying to reassure the elf. ¡°But what about you, Aya? You look like you fought a volcano!¡±


    Aya hesitated visibly, her body shuddering in a distinctly un-Aya way. My worries deepened as I saw something indecipherably foreign cross her face.


    Fear.


    ¡°I encountered resistance on the cusp of executing the traitor,¡± she said after a minute. ¡°I fought. And I lost.¡±


    ¡°The Asclepius Retainer,¡± I said lowly, suddenly certain of my words. ¡°He was here, wasn¡¯t he?¡±


    Aya nodded slowly, her eyes darkening into misty pits.


    During my fight with Uto, Dawn¡¯s Balad¨Cnormally a translucent teal¨Chad begun to shift toward orange-purple. It did that sometimes at random now, indicating some sort of presence of the phoenix Wren had fancied. But unlike the usual times, it had vibrated in my hand, nearly ripping me from my focus of combat.


    At the time, I didn¡¯t have the wherewithal to process this. I¡¯d been fighting for my life and barely holding on against Uto¡¯s inky black spike magic.


    And Seris Vritra was here, I thought, feeling as my mood darkened. Why wouldn¡¯t her subordinate, the one I saw coming through the portal with her?


    I¡¯d informed Aldir of what I¡¯d witnessed in that cave. And for the first time ever, the three-eyed-asura had opened his normal eyes, focusing on me with utmost clarity as he demanded the full story. In the aftermath, the pantheon had told me to be exceptionally cautious around this Asclepius hybrid. While he was always serious, there was something distinctly stern about his warning this time.


    ¡°Then Olfred escaped,¡± I said emptily, cursing in my head. Likely alongside Seris Vritra. This new information complicated already muddy waters. If Seris was opposed to this war, then why did she have her subordinate rescue Olfred?


    I looked with narrowed eyes at the quiet elven Lance in front of me. She was uncharacteristically silent, seeming lost in her own thoughts as she stared at Uto¡¯s frozen body. I was barely past backlash myself, but I could tell that Aya wasn¡¯t in a much better state than me. In fact, she seemed to be worse.


    Did she lose her fight? I wondered. Was she spared in turn?


    ¡°We probably don¡¯t have to worry about Mica being a traitor,¡± Aya said in a small voice. ¡°But¡­ but we need to go to the council. Immediately. You can¡¯t afford to rest right now, Arthur, no matter how much you need it.¡±


    There was an urgency in Aya¡¯s words that made me pause. Of course, we needed to go to the council. If Olfred was still alive, that added huge implications for the dwarven participation in the war. But even now, I struggled to remain conscious. ¡°Aya, I¡¯m not sure I can even stand right now,¡± I said lamely. ¡°Is it so urgent that it can¡¯t wait a day?¡±


    The elven Lance looked at me, her eyes shadowed by disheveled black hair. ¡°Yes, Arthur,¡± she said weakly, ¡°Because every single Lance might be compromised except for you.¡±


    ¡ª


    Aya refused to explain any further. I had been forced to leave Sylvie¡¯s body behind as Triunion forces carted her to a nearby city, moving her through a teleportation gate to the flying castle¡¯s medical ward. The elven Lance had insisted on going ahead with me, forcing her way through the flying castle to the Council room. Rahdeas and Uto had both been interned in the dungeons far below.


    I stumbled after the Lance, barely able to move as my body protested from abuse. I¡¯d conjured splints of ice along my legs to push me onward, bolstering my shaky legs against their protests. I wanted¨Cno, I needed my rest desperately. But there was an undercurrent of deepening tension and raw, primal fear to Aya¡¯s movements and words that added weight to her plea for a meeting.


    Her seductive facade had long since evaporated. She¡¯d set her nose, and it had indeed begun to heal, but not fast enough. Neither of us had even gotten the chance to get changed out of our battle-torn clothes.


    Aya pushed open the Council doors. I blinked blearily as I stared inside, noticing the absence of Aldir and the dwarven representatives and Lances. The room had always felt overcrowded before, each voice and aura struggling to be heard.


    Now, however, it was coated in a layer of dread. Lances Bairon and Varay stood behind King and Queen Glayder, and I saw Bairon¡¯s expression of mute surprise as he saw Aya¡¯s battered form. Varay¡¯s ice-cold eyes only narrowed as she inspected the state of her fellow Lance. Compared to Phantasm, my aches seemed barely noteworthy.


    I locked eyes with Virion as I stumbled into the room, giving him a tired nod. I allowed myself to slump into an offered chair, feeling as my core trembled from near backlash.


    ¡°Well, Lance Aya?¡± King Glayder snapped, unleashing his anger. ¡°You¡¯ve demanded this meeting on such short notice, not even giving yourself or Lance Arthur time to rest. Hell, we don¡¯t even know the results of your mission to end the traitors!¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to be berating our greatest mages,¡± Alduin snapped back at the human king. ¡°I have every faith in my Lances that they¡¯d return with important news.¡±


    Merial, Alduin¡¯s wife, gave me a sympathetic look as I melted into the chair. ¡°We¡¯ve heard a bare few reports¨Cit seems Lance Godspell has managed to incapacitate a Retainer for questioning.¡± She turned to Aya. Though Lances Bairon and Varay stood behind their respective artifact holders, Aya, for some reason, stood near me. ¡°Is that why this meeting has been called? I expect that your mission to eliminate the traitor, Lance Balrog, was successful.¡±


    I winced, and I saw as Aya wilted at my side. I felt a pang of pity for the Lance, but I didn¡¯t even have the strength to pat her on the back.


    ¡°There were complications,¡± Aya said, her voice surprisingly even as she spoke. ¡°The traitor is still active, but¨C¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying,¡± Blaine interrupted, needing an outlet for his anger, ¡°That you failed in your sole mission?¡±


    ¡°Blaine,¡± Virion snapped, the old man¡¯s temper rising sharply in a way I rarely saw, ¡°Compose yourself. Let her tell her story first before we make rash judgments.¡±


    All eyes turned between the two before Gramps looked at Aya. ¡°And I¡¯m guessing these complications are why we are here in the council today?¡±


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    Aya looked down at me nervously for some reason I couldn¡¯t understand, before looking back up at Virion. ¡°Yes, Elder Virion,¡± she said, struggling to bow slightly due to her wounds. ¡°I was close to executing the traitor before interference from another party allowed his escape.¡±


    ¡°And who was this other party?¡± Priscilla asked, the dark-haired former queen of Sapin leaning forward with a crease of worry on her brow.


    ¡°The Asclepius Retainer,¡± Aya said slowly. ¡°He stepped in before I could finish my mission. He appeared exactly as Lance Arthur explained, but his abilities were nothing to dismiss, either.¡±


    I listened with rapt attention as Aya explained her fight with the Asclepius hybrid in detail. I hadn¡¯t heard the true details of her fight until now, and I found myself deeply uncertain from what I heard.


    Apparently, this Retainer was able to move just as fast as the elven Lance, and his senses were mostly unimpeded by her mist. It appeared that this Alacryan was practically the perfect counter for Aya in every way, and her state showed it.


    The other Lances watched Aya with differing expressions. Bairon¡¯s face held quiet contempt in the face of her explanation, while Varay seemed more reserved. The rest of the council hung on Aya¡¯s every word, just as I did.


    ¡°But still, I had nearly won the battle,¡± Aya said with a rasp, her lungs fighting against her broken ribs. ¡°Even after he left me in that crater, I was poised to drive my arm into his neck. His back was turned. His guard was down. But¡­¡±


    She petered off, closing her eyes. The woman shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. There was a tense, awkward silence as the woman broke down slightly, some horrid memory replaying in her mind.


    What did he do, I thought with growing horror, to cause such fear in the Lance?


    ¡°Until?¡± Virion prodded, his own sharp, weathered features cast from stone.


    ¡°He held out his hand,¡± Aya said, ¡°And I felt the squeeze of my Lance artifact around my heart. Like the jaws of a predator, I felt the restrictions¨Cthat should only activate when I threaten the life of my artifact holder¨CI felt them begin to activate.¡± She paused, swallowing slightly. ¡°The Retainer said that the artifacts were crafted by an Asclepius, and¡­ and a weakness.¡±


    The room was silent as a grave as the elven woman¡¯s words sifted through the air. For a second, I thought I must have misheard. I looked around at the similarly shocked members of the council.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way,¡± Blaine said, his voice a rasp. ¡°It was a trick of some kind. An illusion that assaulted your mind! You must be mistaken, Lance Aya!¡±


    Surprisingly, it was Merial who spoke up next, in slow, deliberate words. ¡°Aya, you might not be in your best state of mind right now. You¡¯re clearly not well. Are you absolutely sure¨C¡±


    Alduin Eralith¡¯s hand lethargically clasped his wife¡¯s shoulder, stilling her into silence. She looked at him, unsure.


    Councilman Alduin¡¯s face was white as a sheet, his wide eyes focused on his Lance.


    Even in my exhausted haze, I recognized what that look meant. ¡°She¡¯s not mistaken, is she?¡± I intoned somberly, feeling myself sink further into my seat.


    ¡°I... I felt something a few hours ago,¡± Alduin said, his hand clutching his chest. ¡°I thought it might have been an oncoming heart attack, so I submitted myself to the emitters on standby just in case. But they found nothing wrong. I thought it was just a fluke, but now¨C¡±


    The room erupted into chaos as half a dozen different conversations began, talking over each other as they struggled to be heard. Blaine cursed fiery words that even made my head swim. Priscilla glared at the table, as if she could set it ablaze with just a look.


    Merial¡¯s hand covered her mouth in an expression of mute shock, muttering something to herself.


    Through it all, I cursed internally. I gritted my teeth as this final bit of information came to life, threatening to derail my thoughts further.


    ¡°Where is Aldir?¡± I asked aloud desperately, fighting to be heard. ¡°He has the dwarven artifacts, and he knows about their origin!¡± The three-eyed asura knew more about the Lance artifacts than we did. If there was something wrong with them, or a way to fix this, then he was the person to talk to.


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t been answering the communication artifact he left me,¡± Virion said in reply as the people around us quieted down. ¡°But if there¡¯s something to be done about these artifacts, then I don¡¯t know who else to talk to.¡±


    Lance Bairon looked at Alduin incredulously. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± he spat. ¡°If this Asclepius Retainer can mess with the Lance artifacts, then you¡¯re telling me every one of us is useless against him?¡± His head whipped to Aya, a strange sort of anger there. ¡°You¡¯re lying to us. You have to be. There¡¯s no way we could be so compromised¨C¡±


    ¡°Not all of us,¡± a voice, cold as ice said. Varay spoke for the first time, her dark eyes locking onto mine. ¡°One of us isn¡¯t bound to an artifact. That¡¯s why you brought him here, isn¡¯t it, Aya? Even though he can barely stay awake?¡±


    Bairon looked at Varay with disbelief, while Virion was the first to catch on. ¡°Arthur hasn¡¯t used a Lance artifact!¡± he said, snapping a fist into his open palm. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem everything is all doom and gloom today. Even if most of our Lances are susceptible to this Asclepius, Arthur isn¡¯t!¡± the commander of the Triunion said, looking at me.


    I felt the weight of the entire Council¡¯s stares like an iron blanket crushing my lungs. I was so, so tired. I needed to rest, and my traitorous eyelids fought me at every turn. I gnashed my teeth, seeing the only outcome possible.


    ¡°Maybe what Lance Aya experienced was some sort of fluke,¡± I said, my voice sounding tired and worn, ¡°But we can¡¯t afford to risk that, can we?¡±


    ¡°No, we can¡¯t,¡± Gramps agreed gravely. ¡°If this part-phoenix has the ability to activate the Lance artifacts¡¯ countermeasures against the artifact holder¡¯s will, then we risk sending our greatest warriors on suicide missions any time they face this Retainer. Except for you, Arthur.¡±


    ¡°Hold on,¡± King Glayder interrupted, his eyes narrowing. His deep red mane of hair almost looked like true fire when it coincided with his burning gaze. ¡°If this Retainer was able to toy with the Lance artifact¡¯s tether, then why is Aya still alive? He could have killed her on the spot.¡±


    Aya shifted to look at the former king, and for a moment her stern aura returned as she faced him down. ¡°All throughout the fight, Councilman Glayder,¡± she said with restrained respect, ¡°The Retainer continued to urge me to leave.¡± She paused. ¡°And he was holding back, all throughout our battle,¡± she reluctantly admitted. ¡°He spared me at the end. He told me that this war was asura versus asura, and that we ¡®lessers¡¯ were afterthoughts. That was all he told me, even as he left me alive in a crater.¡±


    For all their political expertise, it seemed this response was not what the Council members were expecting. Blaine sat back in his chair, a deep scowl on his face. Priscilla massaged her husband¡¯s arm absently, seeming lost in thought herself. Alduin and Merial weren¡¯t in a much better state.


    But my thoughts immediately went to Seris Vritra as she snapped Uto¡¯s horns.


    ¡°Get stronger,¡± the pearl-haired Scythe had said. ¡°For both of our sakes.¡±


    Seris and the Asclepius Retainer were certainly direct master and subordinate. And it seemed that Seris¡¯ Retainer shared her goals, at least in some regard.


    But if Seris is on our side, I thought, Then why go out of her way to save Olfred? What game is she playing?


    But no matter how much I thought, I knew I wouldn¡¯t be able to figure out this puzzle. I only had a few pieces of the puzzle.


    ¡°Well,¡± Virion said with a huff, his war-aged face seeming to droop more. ¡°There is some bright news in this entire debacle. Arthur defeated another Retainer, didn¡¯t he? Arthur, why don¡¯t you tell us your story? I¡¯ve heard a few reports, but nothing detailed.¡±


    I forced myself to sit straight at Gramps¡¯ reassuring tone and the attention of the Council. Through tired lips, I explained my fight against Uto¨Cthough I left out Seris¡¯ intervention. At Blaine¡¯s skepticism, I concocted a story of shattering his horns, using Lance Alea¡¯s death as the necessary hint to discover such a weakness.


    I didn¡¯t tell anyone about Seris, not even Virion. The mood in the Council chamber was already extremely low after Aya¡¯s reveal about the Asclepius Retainer and the reveal that the dwarves¨Cor at least a faction of them¨Cwere in direct concert with the Alacryans. And I also wasn¡¯t even certain of Seris¡¯ true goals.


    Though perhaps I should tell Virion after this, I thought. There was a consistency to the Scythe¡¯s actions. Allowing me to leave the cavern in Darv, shattering Uto¡¯s mana core, and then this subordinate of hers leaving Aya alive when he had her dead to rights.


    In a span of time that felt far too long, the meeting was finally adjourned, set to meet once more in a few hours to discuss countermeasures against the Asclepius Retainer.


    I hobbled from the room, my thoughts running slow as tar. I wanted nothing more than to find a bed, lay down, and sleep for an age. My mana core didn¡¯t ache quite as bad as it had directly in the aftermath of my fight, but there was still an angry twinge whenever I moved in a certain way.


    Great job, Arthur, I chided myself internally. Great and powerful Lance you are, unable to catch a wink of beauty sleep.


    Amidst all the recurring dreams of my past life, I found myself embracing another memory¨Cone of another Council, far, far away¨Cas I limped down the halls. I saw the Council of Etharia as they bickered about what to do regarding Trayden¡¯s breach of our treaty by Lady Vera.


    The horrid ambassador¨Cwho had once been my tutor and master¨Cwas detained in our deepest cells. She¡¯d used her position in the King¡¯s Crown Tournament to try and abduct the Legacy, but had failed and found herself quickly captured. I had barely become King then, and I¡¯d been reeling from the death of Cecilia and the broken gaze of my best friend, Nico. My quest for vengeance against those who dared to hurt Headmaster Wilbeck had never had a clearer lead, but¡­ but it was my master. The one who had trained me to fight.


    And I remembered Marlorn, the conniving old bat, sensing the emotional distress I found myself in. He saw a broken, impressionable young man, a King who was more of a Pawn. And it had been his suggestion that led to what happened next.


    I felt an arm wrap itself under my shoulder, propping me up. Thoughts of my previous life vanished as I turned in surprise, noticing Virion there as he helped support my exhausted body. ¡°You¡¯ve got to stop finding yourself so tired, brat,¡± he said with a smirk, momentarily reminding me of his bright demeanor during my childhood in Elenoir. ¡°I was able to sneak up on you with ease. I know I trained you better than that.¡±


    I snorted as Gramps helped me along the hallway toward my room. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know it¡¯s only your training that got me so tired, old man,¡± I quipped with a smirk. ¡°Maybe if I unlearned every bit of mana manipulation tutoring you gave me, I¡¯d be the most powerful Lance already.¡±


    ¡°Well, it seems you don¡¯t need my help getting to your rooms,¡± Virion said nonchalantly, playfully threatening to leave. ¡°I¡¯m sure you can learn some sort of masterful technique to allow yourself to crawl there.¡±


    I cinched my hand around the former elven king¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you can¡¯t do that, Gramps,¡± I said loftily. ¡°I am a delicate man. I need tending to constantly for my great services to the continent.¡±


    My joking tone seemed to miss its mark as Virion¡¯s expression fell. ¡°In this next Council meeting, it''s likely going to be decided to keep you constantly on standby to respond to any appearance of this Asclepius Retainer,¡± he said seriously. ¡°Were the results of our trap against Rahdeas and Olfred more successful, perhaps I could have afforded to offer you a reward publicly. But it seems you¡¯ll only be assigned more work.¡±


    I ground my teeth, feeling the weight on my shoulders redouble. My new life was so different from my old one. I had people I cared for again; people I needed to protect. But I constantly found myself facing enemies stronger than I could manage. It seemed that every step forward I took, my foes took three. How could I protect Mom? Dad? Or Ellie, if I couldn¡¯t even beat a Retainer?


    I felt a phantom resurgence of King Grey in the back of my mind, whispering dark thoughts. You can only have the strength you need, he said, devoid of any emotion, If you set yourself alone. That is the true path to strength. The way to seize all you need.


    My jaw creaked audibly as I shoved King Grey back into the depths of my mind. I feared becoming him once more. Feared it so, so much. But there was one thing he was right about.


    ¡°I¡¯m not strong enough,¡± I said angrily. I took a deep breath, then looked meaningfully at my childhood mentor. ¡°I didn¡¯t defeat Retainer Uto,¡± I admitted, then started to tell the truth.


    Virion was silent as I quietly explained my interaction with Scythe Seris and the true result of our battle. I didn¡¯t want to burden the old man, but in concert with the Asclepius Retainer¡¯s words to the defeated Aya, I felt it was necessary to do so. Too many wars and battles were lost due to a lack of information, and this felt crucial.


    We reached my rooms before long, and Virion stooped in silence as he supported me. Admitting my lack of power and failure to even damage Uto made something deep in my gut clench, like scratching at an open wound. But Gramps didn¡¯t judge.


    ¡°There might be something I can do soon,¡± Virion said slowly. ¡°To help you improve in your magic. But you¡¯ve given me a lot to think about, brat,¡± he said, clapping me on the back.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know what this ¡®Seris Vritra¡¯s¡¯ goals are,¡± I said tiredly, feeling my eyelids droop. ¡°But I¡¯m absolutely certain both she and the Asclepius Retainer spotted me at the cavern in Darv, yet I was allowed to go free anyways.¡±


    Virion rubbed at his jaw, his eyes narrowing. ¡°We don¡¯t have enough information,¡± he cursed. ¡°Brat, keep this knowledge to yourself until we¡¯re more sure of things. Hopefully, with Retainer Uto captured we can get some more information out of this.¡±


    I nodded somberly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Gramps,¡± I said, my words drifting off. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    Virion chuckled as he ushered me into my room. I barely registered that my bed was in front of me before I collapsed face-first onto the sheets, and I was out like a light.

 Chapter 186: Severing Ties

    Toren Daen


    We stepped into the cavern, the transition from morning light to glaring darkness leaving me slightly cold. I immediately missed the open sky as rock stretched overhead, blotting out freedom.


    I think Aurora is rubbing off on me more than I thought, I mused as I stepped after Seris as she strode with purpose into the bowels of her hideout.


    ¡°Or perhaps,¡± my bond thought back, ¡°You simply see the truth of things. We should not be caged underground, Toren. The sky is ours.¡±


    I sighed lightly. There was something amazing about an open sky that I¡¯d only begun to appreciate upon coming to this world.


    ¡°Considering the fact that Elder Rahdeas has been compromised,¡± Seris¡¯ pure voice echoed in front of me, ¡°It is high time we changed locations for this hideout. I will be organizing our planned route shortly.¡±


    I nodded. Arthur had pinpointed exactly where our base was. It was about time we moved.


    ¡°And you will escort Lance Olfred to the dwarven leaders,¡± Seris said, turning over her shoulder to look at me. ¡°If he refuses to follow my orders, perhaps he will be more amenable to those of his father, if far removed.¡±


    A ways behind me, Olfred stiffened from the callout.


    ¡°I can do that,¡± I said, nodding. I raised a hand imbued with mana, brushing it against the symbol of Named Blood Daen on my mask. In a moment, my armor and mask reverted back to their pendant form. ¡°When I¡¯m done, do you want me to report back to you?¡±


    ¡°You have your own subordinates to organize, Lord Daen,¡± Seris said dismissively. ¡°That will be your task.¡±


    I blinked in confusion. ¡°The dwarves I work with aren¡¯t my subordinates,¡± I said slowly.


    ¡°Lusul of Named Blood Hercross was appointed to his position by you,¡± Seris said, her pristine lips twisting into a wry smile. ¡°He¨Cand by extension, his unit¨Care under your command now. Are you going to avoid taking responsibility for your actions, Lord Daen?¡± the Scythe asked, looking at me through silver lashes that could split light. ¡°I thought you a better man than that.¡±


    I noted her particular wording with uncertainty, coughing into my fist. She did enjoy her wordplay. ¡°No, Seris. I¡¯ll make sure everyone is organized and ready for evacuation,¡± I said, moving forward. The Scythe¡¯s onyx eyes trailed me until the twisting corridors blocked her from my sight.


    Olfred followed behind me mutely, a quiet irritation simmering across his intent. That emotion quieted my own, centering them on the task ahead. As we walked, Alacryans and dwarves alike stopped to stare at us. The reactions were mixed, to say the least: some of the dwarves looked on with pride as their Lance strode behind me. Others with contempt.


    ¡°You¡¯ll probably be put in charge of the dwarven rebellion here,¡± I said absently to the Lance behind me. ¡°Or have to work aside Jotilda Shintstone.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s lips flattened with dissatisfaction. ¡°That old bat is here?¡± he asked. ¡°Shoulda known that. But I¡¯m not a part of her rebellion, so I won¡¯t be leading anything.¡±


    I looked back at the dwarf with a raised brow. ¡°You literally built a bunker for Alacryans and tried to help assassinate Lance Arthur,¡± I said, my skepticism radiating from my voice. ¡°That puts you squarely within rebellion.¡±


    Olfred puffed out his chest, staring at me as we continued to walk. ¡°I answer only to Rahdeas, Daen,¡± he said irritably. ¡°His orders were to deal with the boy cleanly and to clear out that cavern. I never performed any action of rebellion.¡±


    I snorted, turning back around. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a matter of perspective,¡± I said. ¡°Perhaps you never held true loyalty to the Greysunders and their regime, but you¡¯ve been made an accomplice regardless of what you want. Rahdeas is the figurehead of this rebellion, and his capture will be seen as a major blow.¡± I sighed. ¡°Or maybe he¡¯ll be a martyr of some sort. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Elder Rahdeas won¡¯t be killed,¡± Olfred said behind me, a note of anger in his voice. ¡°Even if the Council captures him, they can¡¯t afford to execute him. It would be foolish to do so.¡±


    I walked into the large dwarven cavern at last, ruminating on the dwarven Lance¡¯s words. Were this war like any other, he¡¯d be right that the largest source of danger came from the Dicathians Rahdeas had betrayed and spied on.


    But Agrona didn¡¯t view his dwarven ¡®allies¡¯ as anything more than a number on a board. I remembered his callous words to Arthur, in a time yet to come and a time long past.


    Do you mourn for the ants you step on?


    Rahdeas would be ended by infiltration into the castle by some of Agrona¡¯s operatives, killed by the activation of a spell hidden deep within the dwarven elder¡¯s body.


    Though if Seris and I get our way, that will never come to pass, I thought.


    ¡°You can only hope, Olfred,¡± I said. ¡°You can only hope.¡±


    Jotilda marched to the front of the groups of dwarves, her face showing a modicum of shock as she spotted Olfred. She smoothed her features over quickly, however, approaching me as the dwarves slowly gathered behind her.


    ¡°What have ya done now, Alacryan?¡± Jotilda said quickly, the aged dwarven woman looking between Olfred and me. ¡°Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for the Lance to be here?¡±


    I sighed, then lowered my voice. ¡°Rahdeas¡¯ status as a spy has been discovered,¡± I said quietly, making sure the other dwarves couldn¡¯t hear me. ¡°He¡¯s likely been taken prisoner. I just saved Lance Olfred from a rather unfortunate end from one of his former Lance comrades after a failed ambush attempt on Lance Godspell. So believe me when I tell you he wouldn¡¯t be here unless he needed to.¡±


    Elder Jotilda¡¯s eyes widened progressively with each word I said, and she seemed to have to visibly control herself. ¡°We always knew it was a possibility,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m assumin¡¯ we¡¯re changing locations now?¡±


    Olfred chose that moment to step forward. ¡°Where are your baths, Elder Jotilda?¡± he said gruffly, clearly still irritated about Seris¡¯ manipulations. His clothes were covered in cuts and scrapes, and the man looked ready to boil over. ¡°I need a place to cool off before I drop this cavern on the Alacryans¡¯ heads.¡±


    I glared at the man as Jotilda directed the Lance toward the bathhouses, my ire raised by his willingness to threaten those close to me. That washed away slightly as Lusul rushed forward, then stood at military rest.


    ¡°Reporting, sir,¡± he said stiffly, his almost-pink eyes staying locked on the wall behind me. ¡°I heard you had returned and thought it necessary to check in.¡±


    At least some things are going my way, I thought. ¡°Thank you, lieutenant. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve been briefed yet, but Scythe Seris has placed you under my direct command.¡±


    The young man¨Cstill a boy, really¨Cstiffened nervously at the mention of Seris. His rigid posture broke for a moment as he looked at me uncertainly.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to be evacuating these tunnels,¡± I said, addressing both Elder Shintstone and the young son of Named Blood Hercross. There were protocols in place that were prepared for this sort of eventuality, so I hoped the going would be smooth. ¡°This location has been compromised. Lusul, gather up your men and have them ready to depart as quickly and as orderly as you can.¡± I turned to Jotilda, the short dwarven elder¡¯s face pinched with a dark emotion. ¡°I suppose you probably have your own protocols for this, Elder Jotilda,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d recommend engaging them.¡±


    Lusul saluted¨Cmaybe a bit too animatedly¨Cbefore he bounded off the way he¡¯d come, determination and resolve in his steps.


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    ¡°He is eager to prove himself,¡±


    Aurora said. ¡°He knows his direct appointment to your command by the woman you court is significant, though I suspect he doesn¡¯t know how.¡±


    I nodded in internal agreement, before turning back to the dwarven elder. She hadn¡¯t moved yet, even as the dwarves all around shuffled at the commotion, clearly sensing something in the air.


    She appeared to be considering something, scrutinizing me behind bushy gray brows. ¡°While we dwarves are more than capable,¡± she huffed lowly, ¡°Perhaps you could use that telekinesis magic of yours to assist us in packing away our things. It would make things go a lot faster. A win for both you and me, Lord Daen,¡± she said, sounding as if she were making an excuse.


    I recognized what this was quickly. An olive branch. The dwarven elder hadn¡¯t been very cordial or respectful to me despite my efforts, and I suspected the word ¡®sorry¡¯ wasn¡¯t in her vocabulary. But this was exactly the kind of opportunity I needed to soothe relations between the Alacryans and dwarves in this cavern.


    ¡°I¡¯d be more than happy to,¡± I said, nodding with a slight smile. ¡°Anything in particular suited for my talents?¡±


    Jotilda turned, marching toward one of the many twisting cavern pathways. ¡°Aye, just give me a moment, Daen,¡± she said gruffly, but not unkindly.


    As I followed after the dwarven elder, she barked out orders in a booming bass voice to the cavern. While Lusul was covert and diligent with his task, Jotilda ordered everyone she came across to pack up their things and prepare to march. The dwarves were surprisingly receptive to the blunt message, cursing back at Jotilda as they complied.


    I watched the movement with a raised brow, genuinely surprised at the efficiency.


    ¡°What¡¯re you gawking at, Daen?¡± Jotilda huffed.


    ¡°Just surprised everything¡¯s going so smoothly,¡± I admitted. ¡°I can imagine a hundred ways this could go wrong, but it''s not.¡±


    ¡°Been like this since the Greysunders,¡± the dwarven woman scoffed. ¡°The people of Darv learned to look to each other and work together because their king and queen certainly wouldn¡¯t. Greedy bastards fleeced us for all we were worth.¡± She paused. ¡°Rahdeas is good, though. A true voice for us dwarves. I trust him more than I trust any man.¡±


    I worked my jaw at the woman¡¯s words. ¡°What are you going to do now that he¡¯s been captured?¡± I said quietly. ¡°If you built your rebellion on his back, then won¡¯t this cripple your movement?¡±


    Jotilda¡¯s footsteps stomped with barely contained mana as they impacted the earth. ¡°The Triunion Council are a bunch of hypocrites,¡± she sneered. ¡°Proclaiming they¡¯re for the betterment of all Dicathen. But it¡¯s led by an elf, and there are three human Lances. And when the Greysunders were removed for consorting with you Alacryans, they only put Elder Rahdeas in charge. Only one dwarf! A single representative, while the other races got two. How is that fair to us? And the dwarven Lance artifacts were never even granted to the new representative. Elder Rahdeas never had the same standing as the other councilmembers, no matter how they liked to make it seem.¡±


    The dwarven elder turned to look at me, fire in her eyes. ¡°It was clear from the start to me what the Triunion Council¨Cor better yet, Sapin and Elenoir¨Cthought of us dwarves. Always lower; always smaller. They thought us unworthy of an equal position on their little circle jerk.¡±


    Jotilda spat into the yawning cavern beside us as she turned around. ¡°Elder Rahdeas isn¡¯t the backbone of our rebellion, Daen,¡± she said with fire. ¡°Our backbone has been built strong from all the beating and abuse it''s taken over the decades. The loss of Rahdeas only serves to prove our cause just.¡±


    The plate-armored woman stomped forward, seeming to forget that she wanted me to do something in her boiling rage.


    Internally, however, I was awash with thoughts. My first instinct was to tell the dwarven elder that the dwarves had been traitors to the council. That the placement of only one representative was a justified action due to the lack of trust.


    But I thought of the history of Earth as I plodded along mutely behind the elder. The American Revolution was built using underrepresentation as the major driving force. Furthermore, it could be argued that one of the sparks of World War 2 was lit by the perceived humiliation of the Germans from the Treaty of Versailles.


    Time and time again, history showed that punishing enemies as the Dicathian council did for the dwarves led to more conflict. With the benefit of an outside perspective, I could see this and make logical assumptions regarding it.


    It was easy to see that the situation of the dwarven rebellion was far more complicated than it first seemed. The catch-all denigration of ¡®traitor¡¯ was clearly reductionary in its use.


    I spent the next couple of hours helping the dwarves with their evacuations where I could. Carrying heavy loads, sending messages, and the like.


    By the end of it all, it appeared as if a hurricane had blown through underground, leaving a ghost town in its wake. I was finishing up helping Gruhnd¨Cwho I still couldn¡¯t understand¨Cpull something from the front of his little barrack.


    ¡°So¡­¡± I said awkwardly as I held what looked an awful lot like the skull of some sort of beast, ¡°Do you have anywhere you want me to put this?¡±


    The bushy-bearded dwarf raised up his arms, saying something unintelligible. We¡¯d gotten by on a vague mix of hand gestures and body language, and this one was thankfully easy to guess.


    I set the taxidermied skull into the burly dwarf¡¯s arms. It must have weighed at least fifty pounds, but the dwarf carried it without a sweat. He said something vaguely affirmative as he hefted the large skull.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said, wiping my brow. I guessed he was saying something vaguely like ¡®thank you.¡¯


    Gruhnd nodded, the skull in his arms larger than his own, then turned on his feet. He strode away, whistling a tune I didn¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°Is this all you do all day, Daen?¡± a familiar voice muttered from nearby. ¡°Move crates and carry messages? It seems beneath one of your strength.¡±


    I turned to see Olfred leaning against a nearby wall. The dwarf had cleaned himself up significantly and was wearing a dark tunic and mud-colored slacks instead of his earlier getup. I personally thought the rugged attire fit the dwarf more.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± I said, shoving my hands in my pockets as I turned to face the former Lance.


    Olfred¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Isn¡¯t all you do, or isn¡¯t beneath your strength?¡±


    ¡°Both,¡± I replied walking over and leaning against the same wall. ¡°We¡¯ve got so many mages who can do the work of ten men, and instead of actually contributing, they sit back and watch everyone else slave away. It isn¡¯t exactly fair. And my official designation by Seris is an ambassador to Darv. The first point of contact between dwarf and Alacryan.¡±


    The dwarven Lance looked me up and down. ¡°And I suppose Alacrya is far better than Dicathen in that regard, is it?¡±


    I watched as Elder Jotilda directed a couple of earth mages far below in collapsing a few buildings I suspected were considered key bits of infrastructure, likely to block any Dicathians from retrieving important knowledge when they came scouring through here eventually.


    My mind flashed to East Fiachra, the state of utter disrepair and disregard they¡¯d faced. And from what I¡¯d learned, Fiachra was better off than most cities. In Aensgar, I¡¯d heard that those unable to pay their own way were cast out from the city or corralled into servitude that would last a lifetime.


    And because Sehz-Clar was more humane¨Cunder Scythe Seris¡¯ covert policy changes¨Cwe were called soft souths by others.


    ¡°Not better,¡± I said. ¡°Just a different kind of problem. When one in five people is a mage and each mage can do the work of ten people alone, who wants to hire a nonmage?¡± I said pointedly, staring into Olfred¡¯s eyes. ¡°And if you do hire a nonmage, why should you pay them a livable wage? They¡¯re only able to do ten percent of your other employees. Pay them ten percent instead to make it reasonable.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s hands clenched where he held them over his chest. ¡°And would you rather that be our problem eventually, too? Do you think you Alacryans have it easier than us dwarves?¡°


    The way he said it was strange. Like he was genuinely asking the question, though there was an undercurrent of something more.


    I shook my head. ¡°I can¡¯t honestly compare, Olfred,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°But I¡¯ll say there are many on both continents who struggle for the basic freedoms of survival. That hasn¡¯t changed.¡± I looked at the Lance. ¡°Speaking of what problems we face, what do you plan to do moving forward?¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what I expected, but it wasn¡¯t for the dwarf¡¯s shoulders to slump and him to thump his head against the back of the wall. A grim, quiet silence overtook him. ¡°I am grateful to you for saving my life, Daen, but you should know there isn¡¯t much time left. I don¡¯t have any plans moving forward.¡±


    I blinked in surprise. ¡°Surely you¡¯ve got something,¡± I prodded, sensing the morose quiet in Olfred¡¯s intent. ¡°Rahdeas is still alive. If you¡¯re worried about what I said earlier about the elder being in danger, know that it shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    The older man laughed humorlessly. ¡°That¡¯s not what this is about.¡± He tapped his chest with a meaty palm. ¡°I¡¯m bound to the Lance artifact. The moment Lance Arthur and Aya reach the Council, all it will take is Lord Aldir¨Cthe asura assigned to our unit¨Cactivating the artifact¡¯s restrictions, and I¡¯ll be dead.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s words splashed against me like cold water. Not so much the words themselves, but the emotions within. The Lance was truly expecting to die soon, and he¡¯d just¡­ accepted it.


    I¡¯d never thought of the situation from this angle, because I knew Aldir would be forcefully withdrawn from Dicathen after a failed assault on Taegrin Caelum. The three-eyed pantheon asura would never get the chance to activate the Lance artifact.


    But then my interaction with Aya¨Cmore specifically, the tether between her artifact and her heart¨Ccame to the forefront of my mind.


    I reached a hand out, then laid it on Olfred¡¯s shoulder. He seemed nonplussed by the contact, but I needed to impress the reality of my words. I looked the dwarf in the eyes, pulling him from his melancholy.


    ¡°Olfred,¡± I said slowly, ¡°If you are worried about the tether around your heart, I might be able to fix that.¡±


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 Chapter 187: A Third Eye

    Toren Daen


    Olfred shook his head at my words. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve heard, Daen, but the Lance artifacts aren¡¯t so simple. I appreciate the sentiment, but I guarantee you won¡¯t be able to alter a thing.¡±


    I looked around us, making sure there was nobody present before enveloping the two of us in a sound bubble. ¡°I¡¯m not just saying this, Olfred,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Do you know where the Lance artifacts came from?¡±


    The dwarf pushed off from the wall he¡¯d been resting against, looking at me askance. ¡°The asura gave them to the leaders of the three races in days of old,¡± he said slowly. ¡°To push us to greater heights.¡±


    I nodded, looking seriously at the Lance in front of me. ¡°And if my power is derived from the same source as those who created the artifacts themselves?¡± I pushed.


    Olfred¡¯s micromovements stilled entirely as he looked at me, seeming to hear me for the first time. ¡°So what you¡¯re sayin¡¯¡­¡±


    ¡°I discovered this in my duel with Lance Aya,¡± I said, hearing as the dwarf¡¯s heartbeat picked up. ¡°The tether for your Lance artifact isn¡¯t some static, immutable thing. I can influence it, for lack of a better term.¡°


    The dwarven Lance took me by the arm, staring up at me with a warring expression of disbelief and hope. ¡°If what you¡¯re saying is true, then you could free me from the asura¡¯s control,¡± he said shakily. ¡°Free me from any control.¡±


    I gently took his hand from my shoulder. ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± I thought of my confrontation with the elven Lance. ¡°It¡¯s not nearly as simple as you might think. The tether between a Lance and their monarch is reactive. Sensitive to any sort of influence. If I¡¯m not careful¡­¡±


    ¡°Then I might simply die regardless,¡± Olfred said, filling in the blanks easily enough. The dwarven Lance¡¯s shoulders slumped as he heard my words. He turned around, looking at the many people milling about at a quick pace as they prepared for evacuation.


    ¡°Tell me, Toren,¡± the older dwarf said, ¡°Why do you offer such a thing for me? Only for your cause? I told you that I will not lead these dwarves. If you hope to rope me into service through gratitude, know that it will not work.¡±


    I exhaled, crossing my arms as I thought. ¡°I was tasked with being an ambassador from Alacrya to Darv,¡± I started, ¡°And one day, to the rest of the continent. A sort of bridge between Dicathen and the land across the sea.¡±


    ¡°You might not know my culture yet, Olfred, but Alacrya isn¡¯t so great a place to live. I don¡¯t know what went through Rahdeas¡¯ head when he sided with our continent. I will be honest with you: I don¡¯t see a future where the Sovereigns set the dwarves on an equal pedestal with Alacryans.¡±


    The dwarven Lance turned, looking at me through hard eyes that could have been carved from stone. His gaze quietly demanded I continue my story.


    ¡°But our Sovereigns upheld a system that put magic above all other arts. The advancement, utilization, and implementation of mana is the basis for personhood where I come from.¡± I tilted my head. ¡°But that¡¯s starting to change. And that process started from mage and nonmage meeting in the middle, recognizing each other for what they could do.¡±


    Olfred was silent for a long time at my implications. Gradually, the many torchlights around the cavern started to flicker and dim as their fuel sources failed to be refilled. The shadows stretched longer and darker, penning us close to Gruhnd¡¯s old home as they stretched their talons.


    ¡°If I am to die regardless,¡± Olfred said eventually, looking back at me, ¡°Then I would rather die trying to find a way out, rather than accepting my fate. Rahdeas will be waiting for me, and no others care for him as he deserves.¡±


    I nodded seriously at the dwarf, holding out my hand. He clasped it with his own, his pulse thunderous beneath his skin.


    ¡ª


    I settled down within one of the abandoned houses, Olfred sitting cross-legged in front of me. I felt my own anxiety swell as I internally made a plan of action. I clenched my hands, feeling the sweat that slicked my palms.


    Aurora, I thought, Is there anything more you can tell me about the Lance artifacts? I know you said you didn¡¯t care much for us ¡®lessers¡¯ at the time, but even a small tidbit of information could help me with this. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My bond thought for a moment, her shaded form appearing near my side as I looked at Olfred¡¯s back. ¡°My brother was concerned about the compatibility of a mage with the artifact,¡± she said eventually. ¡°If there were too much divergence between man and artifact, it risked the death of the mage. I know not if this will help you in your endeavor, my bond, but I will assist in any way I can.¡±


    I nodded slowly, absorbing this information. ¡°Olfred, I¡¯m going to run some tests. If you feel like the restrictions are too close to activation, I need you to tell me.¡±


    The dwarf grunted, his back to me. ¡°I¡¯ll do so, Daen,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m ready for this.¡±


    You better hope so, I thought. Because I¡¯m not sure I am.


    I engaged my Acquire Phase, the familiar warmth that thrummed through my veins centering my unsteady hands. As Aurora¡¯s mind grew closer to my own, I took solace in her confidence, as a child balances themselves with their mother¡¯s guiding hand.


    But what I saw in Olfred¡¯s heartfire as it flickered a deep red immediately made my brow furrow in concern. It was surprisingly small for someone of his core level and power, barely a flickering flame. In fact, my own lifespan was significantly larger than his own.


    ¡°Olfred,¡± I said aloud. ¡°How old are you?¡±


    The dwarf turned around, looking at me uncertainly. When he met my gaze, he shuddered involuntarily. ¡°I¡¯ll reach my sixtieth year soon,¡± he said. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    I frowned as I looked at the Lance¡¯s lifeforce, dancing without care around his heart. I took a deep breath, ¡°Are you aware,¡± I said slowly, ¡°That your lifespan has been severely damaged?¡±


    Olfred blinked. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    I fell into my more clinical side, detaching myself slightly as I spoke. ¡°If I¡¯m guessing this right,¡± I said somberly, ¡°You have only about ten years left to live before your body will give out on you.¡±


    The dwarven Lance huffed. ¡°That makes sense,¡± he said with a similar morose tone. ¡°I¡¯ve been a Lance for a decade already. It tracks that I¡¯d only have another decade in me.¡±


    It was my turn to be confused. ¡°I¡¯m not following what you¡¯re saying, Olfred,¡± I said, concerned.


    ¡°The Lance artifacts reduce the lifespan of the mage they touch,¡± the dwarf said as if it were common knowledge. ¡°It makes their life expectancy closer to that of their monarch for safety purposes. The times vary between the races, but the dwarven Lances before me lived for an average of twenty years after their ascension to white core.¡±


    Only twenty years? I thought, aghast. A white core Lance should live for two centuries at least! What kind of magics did this?


    ¡°You said it was to make life expectancy closer to the monarch?¡± I said, doubting the truth of that statement.


    ¡°Unless the bond is manually relinquished, as the Greysunders did,¡± Olfred grunted, ¡°Then a Lance always dies with their monarch. When we take the job, we know this and accept it. It makes for a smooth transition between leaders, as each successive king can choose a mage loyal to them alone to ascend to the status of Lance.¡±


    I frowned, rolling this information around in my head. I didn¡¯t think it was so simple. In fact, the diminished lifeforce wasn¡¯t a clean cutaway, more of an extracted drain.


    On a hunch, I called my own heartfire to my palms, then rested them against Olfred¡¯s back. The orange-purple energy of my personal aether sank into the Lance¡¯s body, threading across muscle, bone, and artery alike.


    The feedback was extraordinary. It was easy to see the effects of the artifacts if one knew what they were looking for.


    Olfred¡¯s mana channels and veins were supernaturally wide, and the paths for energy stretched in a way I didn¡¯t recognize. But the effects were easy to guess at: with wider channels and veins, the Lance could flood them with more mana at a faster rate.


    Slowly, as my heartfire flooded across the Lance¡¯s body, I gathered a clearer and clearer picture of what happened to the white-core mage. While during my Sculpting Aurora had dynamically rebuilt my veins and channels cell-by-cell, strengthening and improving them in the manner of the phoenix, what had been done to Olfred was functionally different.


    It was as if they¡¯d been forcefully stretched by an outside force, widening their pathways with brutish force. This left more area for mana to flow, true, but I could also track scars along his veins and channels that were worrisome. They¡¯d been brutally spread apart not unlike overstretching a ligament. Furthermore, the walls of his pathways were notably thin, like a layer of cardboard instead of solid wood. I suspected that any damage to the mana veins and channels would be exceptionally difficult to recover from.


    The Lance artifact used most of Olfred¡¯s lifeforce to do this pseudo-Sculpting, I thought, furrowing my brow at all the damage left behind. No wonder there is a high chance of death whenever a new Lance is made. If the artifact isn¡¯t precise, it could drain them entirely of their lifespan. Or the force of this flawed Sculpting could rip their mana veins and channels to shreds, effectively crippling them as mages.


    But if you¡¯re Kezess Indrath and don¡¯t care for the lives of the lessers under his dominion, I thought sourly, It is a fair tradeoff to strengthen their abilities.


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    Windsom had advised Arthur against using the Lance artifacts, as they inhibited further growth in magic. Further on in the books, Arthur¨Cnow attuned to aether¨Chad pinpointed scars left along each Lance¡¯s mana core that forcefully stalled their growth. But it wasn¡¯t so simple, was it?


    If I weren¡¯t so hyper-aware of my own mana pathways, I doubted I¡¯d be so easily able to notice the damage to Olfred¡¯s either.


    ¡°I¡¯ve done a cursory inspection of your body,¡± I said absently as I prepared for the true meat of this mission, ¡°But now I¡¯m going to start poking at the tether that binds your heart. Be ready, Olfred.¡±


    Olfred only grunted. From his elevated heartbeat, I could tell he was anxious, but the man was courageous at his core.


    I remembered how I¡¯d first sensed Aya¡¯s Lance artifact. Within the heat of battle, I¡¯d been able to hear an inkling of it from the start, but it wasn¡¯t made visible until my own blood splashed across her chest, creating a contrasting swirl of lifeforce that made the chains suddenly visible.


    I held out my hand, calling the light of my heart to my hands. They were cast in the color of a waxing dawn as I pressed them solidly against the dwarf¡¯s back.


    Almost immediately, the tether to Olfred¡¯s heart became visible. He gasped audibly as my hands brushed it, his heartbeat picking up immensely. ¡°Mother Earth be damned,¡± he cursed, his fingers digging into the stone.


    I stopped my inspection immediately, pulling my hand back in haste. ¡°Is there anything wrong?¡± I said seriously. ¡°Was it close to activation?¡±


    I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d pushed the artifact too far, but what did I know? Olfred was the one to truly feel the restrictions.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not that,¡± Olfred said breathily. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I felt the effect. Like someone thumpin¡¯ a fist onto my chest. I didn¡¯t expect it is all.¡±


    I nodded slowly, settling my nerves. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m going to inspect this, alright? Tell me immediately if I get too close to activation.¡±


    I set my hands back on Olfred¡¯s back, threading my heartfire down the tether in a testing probe. Olfred¡¯s breath hitched, but he didn¡¯t say a word as I inspected the chains around his heart.


    Not entirely unlike my ability to drain the heartfire from my enemies, I thought, The target¡¯s heart is wrapped in aetheric energy. Except I doubt this tether is designed to drain energy, merely cinch shut like a vice.


    And considering the already weakened state of the Lance¡¯s lifespan, there wouldn¡¯t be much resistance.


    ¡°I may not agree with Kezess or my brother¡¯s methods,¡± Aurora said sadly, ¡°But I must admit it is an ingenious way to bind someone to you. Utilizing what is once a weakness and turning it into a feature instead.¡±


    The other end of the tether stretched from Olfred¡¯s chest in a flickering tapestry of deep red, seeming to vanish like mist further into the air. I suspected there was some sort of spatial tie-in that kept the Lance bound despite any sort of distance.


    I inspected the rope of heartfire, thinking of what I should do next. I might be able to simply snap the rope connecting Olfred to Aldir, but I had no way of knowing if that would be enough. For all I knew, the tether would automatically pop back into place. Or in the act of severing the link, I could activate some sort of failsafe that would kill Olfred instead of save him.


    I looked closer at the veins wrapping Olfred¡¯s heart. They were more like the fingers of a hand cupping the dwarf¡¯s vital organ like a gemstone, ready to crush it at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to try and detach this tether, Olfred,¡± I said. ¡°It might not be pleasant.¡±


    Olfred nodded somberly, shifting nervously from where he sat against the stone. ¡°If Mother Earth takes me, Toren,¡± he said quietly, ¡°Will you do what you can for Rahdeas? As an ambassador for Alacrya, as you put it?¡±


    My hands stalled at the dwarf¡¯s words. The heartfelt emotion in them made me pause, making me need to consider his words.


    ¡°I will,¡± I promised. ¡°But I won¡¯t let you die without one hell of a fight, Olfred. And even if I fail this time, that doesn¡¯t immediately mean death.¡±


    The dwarf¡¯s shoulders relaxed. ¡°Aye. Do what you have to, Toren. I am ready.¡±


    I exhaled, smiling slightly. ¡°Then let¡¯s get this over with, yeah?¡±


    I threaded my heartfire down the length of the red tether, falling deeper into my Acquire Phase as I focused utterly. I began to slowly and carefully poke at each ¡®finger¡¯ of the hand holding Olfred¡¯s heart, testing their limits.


    When I released the pressure of my touch, the grip snapped back into place, holding the Lance¡¯s lifespan like a greedy child. I realized quickly that I would have to pull back every vice-like strand at once, all with a precision I¡¯d never managed before.


    But I was a surgeon; a healer. My hand had remained steady when I played my violin. It remained steady when I wielded Inversion. And it remained steady when I leveraged my scalpel.


    My intent would not slip now.


    I gradually began to pull back the fingers of the heartfire claw, peeling them open in a slow, purposeful draw. I felt the pushback along my aetheric energy increase as the tension of the binding spell tried to snap back into place.


    Olfred¡¯s breathing picked up as sweat streaked down his back, soaking his jerkin entirely through. Even as my own heartbeat thundered in my chest, however, my breathing never faltered.


    Breathing correctly steadied one¡¯s hand. Long ago, Trelza had taught me that a single breath could mean the difference between a clean cut and a life-ending tear. My mind became a machine as I methodically detached this claw of energy from my patient¡¯s heart.


    No different from pulling away a tumor, the part of my mind that was still conscious thought. Or tearing a parasite from healthy flesh.


    A single bead of my sweat hit the ground as I pulled the claw of heartfire away from Olfred¡¯s heart. Yet as it shifted further and further away, it began to struggle to snap back toward its original location. Like a jaw that was trying to constantly bite down on succulent fruit, the pull became greater and greater as the tether of heartfire shifted away from its source.


    I¡¯m almost done, I thought, a mote of excitement breaking through me reverie even as I fought against the driving desires of the spell. He¡¯s almost free. He¡¯s almost¨C


    And then I felt it. I felt the gaze of something great and deep and knowing as it settled over my body. My hands¨Conce so steady¨Clocked up as if under the inspection of a giant. My breathing shuddered.


    I let go of the tether, my heart roaring in my ears like an engine as I felt the attention of something else. A single vertical pupil of an iridescent violet burned itself into my brain, a foreign King¡¯s Force weighing me into the floor. That eye watched me. Peeled me apart, looking into my darkest secrets.


    I trembled, my shoulders slumping as an aura of utter terror suffused my soul. All I could see was that single, all-encompassing eye before me. Its pupil darted around as it roamed across me, judging and scraping and hating. It was everything and nothing. Absolute, primal control. Here was force. The fundamental, encompassing law of momentum molded into flesh.


    Absently, I noticed as the tether snapped back into place around Olfred¡¯s heart. It cinched shut, the claw of aether squeezing as the restraints were engaged. The dwarf toppled forward, clutching at his heart as he screamed in pain.


    But¡­ but I couldn¡¯t move. Not when that eye took up everything. My body creaked in pain as the King¡¯s Force shoved me to the ground, stealing the vitality from my very soul.


    ¡°You dare, Aldir Thyestes?!¡± my bond yelled in fury, her phantom form appearing in a flash between me and the eye. Her feather-red hair surged like the solar flare of a star, her eyes brightening enough to banish any darkness. ¡°You dare to touch my son?!¡±


    Aurora sneered, her dusky purple face cast in rictus anger as she threw her hands forward. Suddenly, the all-encompassing force of power suffusing me was buffeted back, another power meeting it in the middle in a wave of explosive force. The house we were in rattled and shook as Aurora¡¯s shade battled the foreign gaze, denying it its influence.


    I groaned, feeling my insides creak as I crawled over to the dying dwarf. I could feel his erratic heartbeat as the claw slowly closed around his lifeforce, attempting to snuff it out as one washes away a candle.


    Need to save him, I thought vaguely, my thoughts heady and weak. From that barest brush of killing intent, I¡¯d lost practically any strength in my limbs. But I couldn¡¯t let my patient die; not when I hadn¡¯t done everything I could.


    I clenched my hand around the tether, my arms burning and protesting their continued use. Olfred whimpered.


    I wasn¡¯t gentle this time, taking my time and being careful. I forcefully ripped the cinching claws around Olfred¡¯s heart apart with my own veins of aetheric heartfire, feeling the feedback along my body.


    I ripped the red tether from Olfred¡¯s chest, clasping it in a haggard grip as it tried to surge back toward its victim.


    I didn¡¯t let it. I funneled more of my heartfire around the tether, my breathing picking up as I felt my resolve swell.


    The house trembled as Aurora¡¯s shade took a step forward in defiance, each footstep leaving burning brands along the floor. Her martial robes rippled as if in a stream. ¡°You will not halt my son, Aldir Thyestes!¡± she declared, her breath steaming with the color of a waxing dawn. The phantom image of a purple eye flickered back, seeming to grow smaller as its influence was banished. ¡°His will is mine! And you shall not claim him!¡±


    You don¡¯t get to claim a victim today, I thought with a snarl, agreeing with my bond. I felt the muscles in my forearms tense, my hand cinching shut around the heartfire claw in my arms.


    Magma pulsed and roiled around the room, the walls and ceiling melting from Olfred¡¯s death throes. I felt myself sinking partway through the rock, the heat burning and scalding at my skin. Splatters of molten rock seeped over and through my flesh.


    And with a sound like shattering glass, the construct of aether broke into a million glittering pieces in my hands. I slumped forward to my forearms, heaving for breath as my damaged body struggled to heal.


    The ghostly eye of Aldir, the preeminent pantheon of the Thyestes Clan, faded away. The rumbling of the house went with it, dust sifting from the ceiling above.


    Aurora slumped in exhaustion, nearly falling to her knees. But when she saw my sorry state, she rushed over to tend to me. Her phantom hand brushed against my back, and I could feel her worry in the depths of my soul.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said softly, her comforting thoughts brushing against my scarred mind as my Will slowly retreated. ¡°Are you well? Can you stand?¡±


    I groaned, blood dribbling from my lips. I was partway subsumed in molten rock, my telekinetic shroud resisting most of it: but it still felt like I¡¯d had a close brush with a volcano.


    Then I vomited, a stream of crimson splashing onto the ground beneath me. It seeped into the cobbles in a slow, painful dribble, following the precut divots in a perfect flow. It sizzled and steamed from the heat.


    Just from his mere gaze, I thought, feeling nausea ripple across my body. Just from a look, he nearly killed me, I realized in grim horror.


    Olfred stumbled to his feet, his legs trembling as his eyes darted everywhere. ¡°What¡­ what in the blazes just happened?!¡± he demanded, his own heartbeat nearly drowning out his words. He hastily summoned a massive hammer of magma, hefting it high as he looked around. ¡°I¡¯m seein¡¯ ghosts and phantoms, now! Strange women and eyes and¨C¡±


    He seemed to belatedly realize I was kneeling in the ground, encased in heated earth. ¡°Mother Earth, Toren!¡± he exclaimed, shuffling forward jerkily. ¡°Are you okay¨C¡±


    A dark mist rushed from the doorway, sifting through Olfred¡¯s body. He collapsed with a gasp, his eyes blown wide as his magma hammer crumbled away. I blinked blearily, too caught off guard to react. The magma around my body cooled as Olfred lost control, making a partial coffin around my arms and legs.


    Suddenly, Seris Vritra stood in front of me, her hand wrapped around the dwarven Lance¡¯s throat¨Cand she looked ready to tear it out.

 Chapter 188: Shifting Scales and Twin Skulls

    Seris Vritra


    ¡°The forces in the Beast Glades are barely keeping together,¡± Cylrit¡¯s voice echoed out from the communication artifact. ¡°With the absence of Retainer Uto, they are uncertain and directionless. I have done my best to pull them into a semblance of order, my Scythe, but it is a grueling process. The Vechorians disdain being under the command of a Sehz-Clarian Retainer, especially as the majority are from war-centered Bloods. And considering my origins, many think me traitor to their dominion.¡±


    I hummed in consideration. The Redfeud war was still fresh on the minds of many within Vechor who felt I had snubbed them of their deserved victory, and it appeared they were making trouble for my Retainer.


    And it makes sense why they are so bitter being led by the Victorious Black Tower, I thought with a sigh. But I have little choice.


    ¡°Continue as you are, Cylrit. It may be some time before the forces come back under order,¡± I continued. After all, that was part of my intentions of breaking Uto. Now the majority of the Alacryan forces in Dicathen were directly or indirectly under my control.¡°But once they are, we will continue as the High Sovereign decreed.¡±


    Cylrit continued his report for a bit longer as I listened. He¡¯d taken control of the majority of the forces in the Beast Glades as they gradually collected mana beasts and corrupted them with beastwards. Eventually, the horde would be thrown at the Wall as a distraction from the eventual front along Elenoir.


    ¡°Report to me anything you deem necessary,¡± I said, preparing to end the communication. ¡°I will be moving my forces to one of the backup bases in Darv. If you need to¨C¡±


    My voice cut off as an overwhelming presence streamed through the cavern. My breath hitched and my eyes widened as I felt the sudden power, radiating from not far away. Sweat beaded along my skin, my fingers clenching.


    An asura! I realized nearly immediately. Without thinking, I rose to my feet, feeling a tremor as it raced across my body. There is an asura here, in this cavern! Likely from Epheotus!


    For all my power, I knew I was but an ant to a warrior asura. Yet my forces were theoretically protected from such an attack by Kezess¡¯ treaty with Agrona, which had been even further enforced by the failed assault on Taegrin Caelum a few days ago. Was Lord Indrath so quick to break his oaths once more? Was he that eager to invite continental destruction?


    I stood frozen for the barest instant, every single thought racing through my mind in a jumble. I hadn¡¯t felt this kind of power since Agrona slew Varadoth. The pressure redoubled, palpable even from where I stood.


    But then a single, burning thought pushed its way to the forefront of all the others. Like a nagging itch, it wrenched itself from the turbulence within my head, flashing like a warning sign in my mind.


    That¡¯s where Toren is, I realized with something between fear and resolve. He¡¯s near that pressure.


    I shot out of my rooms as the mana carried me aloft, pushing and pulling me in equal measure as I blurred toward the source of the presence. As I flew, I tried to concoct a plan. Something I could say to halt the asura¡¯s hand. There were secrets I knew, of course. Of Agrona¡¯s operations within Alacrya. If worst came to worst, could I afford to relinquish those if it meant sparing Toren?


    I felt it difficult to focus as I appeared in the dwarven cavern, my mana thrumming around me and my core revving with power. I forced my fingers not to shake; demanded my body remain cool and tranquil. I gave the tall cavern a cursory glance, noting how the dwarves cowered in a dual-attribute fear: of me and my presence, and of the aura that radiated near the end of the cavern.


    And if I focused, I could feel him. Toren was at the edge there, right in the center of that hurricane.


    My asuran countermeasures will more than likely fail, I thought quickly, my mind drifting to the half-finished item in my dimension ring. It is not enough to bar a full-blooded asura.


    I gathered my thoughts and assumptions about me like a weave as I prepared to confront this force regardless.


    Before I could make a move, however, the outpour of power just¡­ Stopped. It snapped, as if someone had stretched it too far, breaking it into innumerable different pieces. I blinked, momentarily stupefied at this whiplash of events. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But even if the asuran presence was gone, that didn¡¯t mean all was well. Toren¡¯s mana signature flickered weakly, like a slowing heartbeat. I felt my terror shift into an undercurrent of worry as my rational side took charge once more.


    I shouldn¡¯t have reacted without thinking, I scolded myself, smoothing over my features. It would have led nowhere constructive.


    I flew quickly toward the building I knew Toren lay in, going over contingency plans and the ramifications of this event in my head. If an asura had just popped in and left, then it could potentially be viewed as another violation of the treaty. Were that the case, I¡¯d have special precedence¨Chowever small¨Cto try and influence the outcome.


    But when I stepped through the doorway into the dark room that I sensed Toren within, what I saw made fury replace my trepidation.


    Lance Olfred Warend, codename Balrog, stood over Toren¡¯s body. A puddle of blood leaked beneath Toren¡¯s prone, magma-coated form, while the dwarf hefted a warhammer of lava over his head.


    I lashed out on instinct, engaging my mana. Dark mist streamed from my hands as it surged across the room, washing through the dwarven Lance¡¯s body as he stood poised to bring his hammer down on Toren¡¯s head.


    I blurred forward, my hand wrapping around Olfred¡¯s throat as his mana abandoned him. The dwarf¡¯s eyes bulged as I looked down at him, my anger ripping apart my delicate mask.


    I had gone out of my way to save this dwarf. To protect him in the wake of his discovery by the Council, then had given him refuge here in our base. For him to turn on us, to turn on Toren, made my blood boil. But even as I knew, logically, that Toren would be able to heal himself from whatever Olfred had done to him, I still couldn¡¯t stop my fingers from squeezing tighter around the dwarf¡¯s throat.


    But even as I squeezed, I was absorbing everything around me. Like a sponge soaks up blood, the world seemed to feed me the pieces of this puzzle.


    The asuran signature is gone, I thought analytically, my gaze drifting across the crumbling room. Fire-burned footprints lined the stone, as if someone had been walking away from Toren. My eyes snapped to the young mage¡¯s weakened form. His eyes were hazy and unsure as he stared up at me from the ground, the depths delirious as blood dribbled from his nose. The rocks binding his arms and legs slowly turned to sand, then nothing at all.


    Those bindings were haphazard, I thought, inhaling as I tasted the magic in the air. A paltry attempt to bind Toren. No¡­ he wasn¡¯t wounded by the Lance. The blood is from the pressure exuded by the asura, not Warend.


    I loosened my grip ever-so-slightly on the dwarf¡¯s throat, allowing him to gulp a mouthful of air: but he was still utterly under my power. He weakly gripped my arms, his eyes bulging as I watched him.


    My gaze narrowed as I focused on the slight burn marks around Olfred¡¯s chest and his absurd, abnormal heartbeat. ¡°The asura was here because of you,¡± I whispered, restraining the urge to clench my fist around his throat again. My eyes tracked up to his face, drinking in his utter terror and slotting it away into this puzzle. ¡°But you don¡¯t know why, do you, Lance? You¡¯re confused and terrified. Not just of me, no¡­¡°


    That burning, furious fire in my stomach simmered down, becoming a cool, apathetic¨C


    And then I noticed it. A single, flickering scale. A gleaming red eye that was of my very blood as it hid under the shade of my mana. It pulled on my mind; warped and twisted it with tiny, insidious tugs. Part of it had slipped out of the cage I¡¯d made for it, and I hadn¡¯t even noticed.


    Why hadn¡¯t I noticed it escaping?


    I threw Olfred to the ground as this realization struck me. The dwarf sputtered and wheezed, but I blotted it out as I focused on shoving that mutant part of my blood back into its prison. I snarled slightly, my mana warping as I reasserted myself.


    I hadn¡¯t lost control. Not truly. My thoughts and emotions were being influenced slightly, of that I was certain.But if I had been allowed to go on¡­


    ¡°Seris,¡± Toren said weakly, pushing himself to his feet on trembling legs. ¡°Don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t kill him. Not his fault,¡± he said blearily, that gaze of burning coal piercing my mind.


    And immediately, I knew what had diverted my focus from keeping that tempered part of my basilisk blood hidden.


    Not what. Who.


    ¡°Explain yourself, Lord Daen,¡± I snapped, my mana churning. I ignored the dwarven Lance as he wheezed on the ground, crossing my arms in front of my stomach. I held them there by an effort of will, refusing the urge to examine Toren for any wounds. ¡°What happened here?¡±


    Could he sense it? I wondered, working my jaw as I pinned him with my gaze. Sovereign Orlaeth could with his empathic abilities. He delighted in poking and prodding at it.


    ¡°Explain yourself,¡± I demanded again, my patience wearing thin. I took a threatening step forward. Toren didn¡¯t step back, leaving us barely a few feet apart.


    Toren looked down at Olfred uncertainly, then back to me. ¡°Olfred wasn¡¯t threatening me,¡± he said slowly, as if I were Mount Nishan on the verge of eruption. ¡°I¡¯m alright. Just a little shaken from something else, but that¡¯s solved now. Nothing to worry about.¡±


    He speaks as if he was my worry, I thought. I took another step forward, my aura flaring as I stood barely a foot away from Toren. He didn¡¯t wilt under the pressure I exuded, even though his shoulders trembled. My expression thinned as I searched his eyes, looking for any hint of recognition. What do you see, Toren Daen? What do you sense?


    I felt a cold sense of deja vu working through my veins. The last time you tore apart my cloaks, you saw a piece of it. Far and away in front of Bloodstone Elixirs when we slew those vicars.


    But Toren had improved in hiding his expressions since then. I couldn¡¯t tell what he had sensed this time.


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    ¡°I felt the presence earlier,¡± I snapped, failing to keep my voice even. I turned up my chin as I stared into Toren¡¯s eyes, still searching to see if he had felt


    it. ¡°The power that made itself known. An asura, no? You say that it¡¯s solved?


    Toren massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger¨Csomething he did whenever he was stressed or trying to think. My hands tightened from where I clasped them in front of me.


    ¡°I have some influence over¡­ aether,¡± he finally said, looking back at me. ¡°It¡¯s how I¡¯m able to heal myself and others. It¡¯s what allows me to sense people without the use of mana,¡± he said reluctantly. ¡°You probably guessed that, no?¡±


    Indeed, I¡¯d made that connection. From Sevren Denoir¡¯s obsession with Toren to his undetectable healing ability, the conclusion was simple, especially with the knowledge that phoenixes were able to rebuild their bodies with aether.


    But even as this puzzle piece was confirmed, I couldn¡¯t allow myself to get sidetracked.


    ¡°What is the point of this, Lord Daen?¡± I demanded.


    ¡°When I fought Lance Aya,¡± he said hesitantly, ¡°I sensed something that bound her heart. A chain. Tether. Vein. Whatever. But it was formed of aether, and I almost immediately knew what it was.¡± He snapped a glance to Olfred, who had sat himself up against a wall and was massaging his bruised throat. ¡°And that guess was confirmed when I felt the same tether around Olfred.¡±


    My eyes widened. ¡°The Lance artifact,¡± I said in surprise.


    Toren nodded, his golden-red hair swaying. ¡°And, well¡­ Olfred made a valid point to me. Even if I saved him from Aya, the one who held his Lance artifact was Aldir Thyestes, the three-eyed asura watching from the Dicathian side. He was bound to die soon regardless of my actions. But I¡¯m not one to let such things slide.¡±


    ¡°So you made him an offer,¡± I said lowly, seeing the logical conclusion of this. ¡°To free him of his artifact?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Toren said a bit sheepishly. He coughed weakly, massaging his chest with a bit of a pained look. ¡°If he was going to die no matter what, I asked him if he wanted me to try and free him of his bonds. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d succeed, but¡­ It worked. Olfred is free from his artifact.¡±


    For a moment, I forgot about the room around me, my mind awhirl with this new piece. The implications were immense. Truth be told, I¡¯d expected Olfred Warend to die eventually once General Aldir got around to activating the artifact. His death would motivate the dwarves, and he¡¯d be a martyr that would push them forward.


    I moved away from Toren, pacing back and forth as I held my chin in my hand. My head swirled with the possibilities, plans realigning themselves. New routes and avenues opened up as I recalculated my plans to try and account for this change. If Olfred Warend weren¡¯t going to die¡­


    At the edge of the room, Olfred Warend coughed in pain.


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t explain the presence that was here,¡± I pointed out, finally getting my mind in order. I let none of my inner thoughts show on my face, determined to keep my mask in place.


    Toren worked his jaw, his eyes flashing. ¡°Aldir Thyestes,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Pantheon and General for Lord Indrath. He still holds the dwarven Lance artifact. And I should have expected him to notice my prodding at the tether and react.¡±


    I turned back to the young fire mage, my brow creasing. ¡°And you fought through that pressure?¡± I asked, suitably impressed. ¡°It retreated when you snapped the tether, then?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Toren replied hesitantly, though the way his face twitched told me there was more to this story. ¡°He shouldn¡¯t be able to do that again.¡±


    A silence stretched between us as his words settled in. My eyes absorbed Toren¡¯s disheveled state, his warm eyes looking at me in turn. His clothing was drenched in sweat, revealing the toned outline of his upper body. I traced the contours of his chest and shoulders with my gaze, noting the steady rising and falling of his breathing.


    He didn¡¯t see, I realized, feeling slightly reassured. There are limits to his empathic senses then, hmmm? How will you play this then, Seris?


    I felt my hands twitch where I held them. I hadn¡¯t needed to rush here so impulsively. The reason why I¡¯d ignored all sense and reason stood before me, looking irritatingly content with himself and with an even more irritating glimmer in his eye as he smirked at me. Those orange pupils flickered in the recesses of my mind, overlaid with the apathetic red of my memories.


    You¡¯re letting him get too close to you, Seris, I recognized. With all you have at stake, a single person shouldn¡¯t cause you to lose all reason. To throw away all sense and risk. To give that demon in your blood a chance to crawl out of the pit you condemned it to.


    ¡°You did well with this,¡± I said evenly, coming to a decision. ¡°With Lance Olfred no longer threatened by his artifact, our alliance with the dwarves can be truly cemented. Furthermore, if it is made known that Alacryan technology is what freed the dwarven Lance, then Alacrya shall be seen as a true equalizer in this war.¡±


    Toren¡¯s smile became more genuine as it stretched across his face. I felt my irritation with myself deepen as I traced the outline of his lips.


    ¡°But you did not talk with me first,¡± I continued sternly, hovering slightly in the air. ¡°With something of such importance, it is paramount that you report to me, your Scythe, before any such attempt. Were you to fail, it would have appeared that you had assassinated the dwarven Lance right after saving him.¡±


    Of course, Toren hadn¡¯t spoken to me first. I¡¯d encouraged him to act on his own judgment and work for the furthering of his cause, bringing dwarf and Alacryan closer. And as this event showed, that was the right decision. If Toren had brought this possibility before me, it was unlikely I would have accepted it. The risks were too great, even with the rewards at hand. But he¡¯d succeeded.


    And my foolishness had stopped the man from deferring proper respect to my title and station. Why should I expect him to treat me like a superior when I never treated him as a subordinate?


    Toren nodded slowly. ¡°You¡¯re right about that,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I should have informed you. But it was Olfred¡¯s life in the balance. I thought it should be his decision, ultimately.¡± He paused. ¡°Not an Alacryan¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you would be right if the weight of our entire dwarven alliance were not at stake here.¡± I stared at Toren, narrowing my eyes as I finally cemented my plan. ¡°For circumventing authority and performing unsanctioned actions during times of war, Toren Daen, you will need to be disciplined.¡±


    Toren¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in irritation and indignation. I didn¡¯t let that stop me. ¡°Your position with the dwarves will be temporarily put on hold. There is a large contingent of soldiers within the Beast Glades that Retainer Cylrit is currently overseeing. For your actions, you will be placed under his command for a time until it is deemed you have rethought your insubordination. Am I clear?¡±


    Toren¡¯s face fell, clearly stuck in his own thoughts. I saw the traces of confusion and uncertainty in the knitting of his brow. I saw his determination in the slight twist of his lips. But I refused to look into his eyes.


    It was said that the eyes were a window to the soul. It was safer to close than avenue when at all possible.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Toren said slowly, his voice straining with irritation. ¡°When will I be leaving?¡±


    I turned away, striding toward the door. Toren was forced to move aside, lest I clip him with my shoulder. ¡°I will have my tempus warp prepared soon,¡± I said. ¡°Await my orders until then, Lord Daen.¡±


    ¡°Seris?¡± Toren called out as I reached the doorway.


    I stopped in my tracks. You should reprimand him, a part of me acknowledged. He does not call you ¡®Scythe.¡¯ He does not know his place beneath you. That is why you failed today.


    But there was something strangely comforting in Toren¡¯s earnesty. For all that I logically knew I should assert our places here and now to avoid failures in the future, I could not bring myself to do so.


    ¡°What is it, Lord Daen?¡± I asked, my voice even from decades of practice.


    ¡°If I¡¯ve offended you personally in any way,¡± he said, ¡°Know that it wasn¡¯t my intention. I only tried to fulfill the task you set forth for me to the best of my ability.¡±


    I closed my eyes in response, floating out the doorway and back into the cavern.


    Olfred Warend


    I watched the talk between the Scythe and Toren in a mute haze, my breath finally evening out as the silver-haired demon drifted away from the room.


    My mind felt like tar as I tried to make sense of all that had happened in just the past few minutes. The appearance of that phantom, purple eye. The overwhelming presence it exuded as the restrictions of my artifact finally exacted their toll.


    I¡¯d expected to die. I¡¯d resigned myself to it from the moment Aya appeared before me. But there was something terrifying about the artifact finally activating, the tension that had been building for decades finally releasing in one moment of horrifying certainty.


    But then that strange illusion had appeared; of a woman with hair that glowed like the deepest fire. Eyes that looked like they¡¯d been taken from the center of an active volcano. And when she roared in defiance, Lord Aldir¡¯s presence had retreated. I¡¯d never felt killing intent like that before. I was certain, deep in my soul, that had the artifact not been activating, I would have died from a heart attack regardless. But somehow, something had protected me from it.


    And I¡¯d sensed when Toren broke that tether.


    I rubbed at my throat, watching where the demon had left. ¡°She is a monster,¡± I muttered with a wince. The bruises around my throat were slow to heal, my mana sapped by the witch¡¯s spell. ¡°A Vritra indeed.¡±


    I¡¯d barely had time to process it all before I¡¯d found a hand around my throat, a sneering face looking down at me as it slowly choked the life from me anyway. I¡¯d seen a disgusting sort of pleasure in the Scythe¡¯s eyes as she slowly killed me.


    Toren sighed, staring off at where the woman had left. ¡°I don¡¯t think she is a monster,¡± he said in a muttered response. ¡°But considering I wasn¡¯t the one getting choked out, I can see that I¡¯m probably biased.¡±


    I snorted in disdain. Biased indeed. For all of Lord Daen¡¯s virtues, it seemed he did have one fault: getting mooney eyes for a creature like that Vritra. ¡°She enjoyed it. Enjoyed choking the life from my body,¡± I snapped irritably. ¡°I know that look in her eye, Toren. Saw it far too much in the Greysunders when they made their twisted decisions. Saw it in Sebastian¡¯s eyes, too. She¡¯s a monster, even if she wears a skin that looks pretty to you. Don¡¯t be a green boy and lose your reason just because you saw a woman¡¯s face, Daen.¡±


    Toren glanced at me, his eyes seeming to glow in the darkness. ¡°If I judged everyone only for the demons they tried to keep caged, I would be alone,¡± he said quietly. ¡°We all slip sometimes. And she¡­ slipped.¡±


    ¡°Quite the slip-up, for her fingers to so conveniently wrap around my neck,¡± I snapped back. ¡°You humans and your strange tastes in women. She¡¯ll kill one of us, Daen, and savor it all the while. Like the earth forsaken Greysunders.¡±


    The young fire mage¡¯s expression darkened slightly, but he didn¡¯t respond to my advice. ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± he asked instead.


    Strange, how such a simple question could divert my thoughts so much. I opened my mouth to reply, but I was surprised to find no words coming out.


    What shall I do now, indeed?


    I thumped my head against the wall, trying to think. Years of having my life held by a leash¨Cfirst the Greysunders, and then Lord Aldir¨Chad weighed on my shoulders like a funeral shroud. And suddenly, I was free.


    I was free, wasn¡¯t I? But¡­ what did I do with that freedom?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said a bit emptily, staring into the darkness. ¡°I never thought about it. I expected to die with my artifact holder, but that won¡¯t happen now.¡±


    Rahdeas had promised me that I¡¯d one day be bound to him. And I had been content with that: when my father died, I would too. I didn¡¯t have any other reason to go on, did I?


    Toren snorted, brushing off his pants and stretching his back. ¡°Maybe take up an instrument,¡± he said casually. ¡°It does wonders for your soul.¡±


    A simple silence stretched between the two of us as I took the time to simply think. Without the weight of the tether around my chest, what could be possible?


    My thoughts turned back to the man who had made this all possible. I¡¯d accepted his offer on a whim, expecting nothing in particular. And even if he was telling the truth about his abilities, I¡¯d expected death.


    I had so many questions. About the phantom that had roared of her son, denying Lord Aldir¡¯s eye my death. About how Toren could touch the tether. I wanted to ask him what to do next. I¡¯d never been free of any sort of tether. How could I even decide for myself what to do next?


    ¡°You¡¯re being shunted off to the Beast Glades,¡± I finally said, feeling limp. ¡°Will I be able to contact you there?¡±


    This strange, Alacryan boy was a third my age at the oldest, yet I found myself wishing for his advice.


    Toren slumped to the floor himself, avoiding the puddle of blood he¡¯d vomited up. ¡°Probably. I can try and get us a pair of communication artifacts. It¡¯s actually a bit fortuitous that this has happened. I needed to go to the Beast Glades anyway for my plans. I was going to make some sort of excuse, but now I don¡¯t have to.¡±


    Despite the positive nature of his words, Toren¡¯s shoulders slumped dejectedly, probably remembering the stern words of the Vritra as she essentially banished him.


    He¡¯s a young lad, I reminded myself. Probably not much older than Lance Arthur. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that he¡¯s gotten his heart in a twist over that monster. She portrays a nice exterior for his kind.


    It was still stupid of him, though.


    But as Toren finally left the room, I languished for a while more, questioning what I would do with this freedom of mine. For some reason, this freedom felt like its own sort of chain.

 Chapter 189: Corrupted Beasts

    Toren Daen


    I held the burnished steel dodecahedron in my hand, concentrating deeply on the flaring fire mana within. The metal was ever-so-slightly rough against the pads of my fingers, the texture helping me hold it firmly.


    I imbued a bit of fire mana into the little puzzle, keeping my eye trained on the traced flame glyph on one of the faces. It was empty and dark, like a hearth whose fire had been out for a day. But as my fire mana engaged with the internals¡­


    I frowned as I felt something¡­ expand as my mana contacted it. When the structure expanded, it shifted the fire mana within, the energy diffusing in a strict pattern. If I focused, I could sense as the fire mana brushed against the fiery glyph, just beneath the surface. In reaction, a small part of the glyph lit up.


    Seris had told me the aim of solving this puzzle was to light the glyph up fully. I furrowed my brow, then imbued a bit more mana into another portion of the internals. I felt as another bit of the structure expanded, pushing more energy toward the glyph at the front. But this expansion somehow caused my first imbuement to fade. While a different stretch of engraved lines glowed with a soft orange light, my initial progress was wiped away.


    Okay, I thought, seeing the problem. It seems I have to imbue different parts of this puzzle in a select order. Activate one section, and it deactivates another.There¡¯s a pattern I¡¯ll have to manage if I want everything to activate at once, thus solving the puzzle.


    I fiddled loosely with the puzzle for a few minutes more, imbuing it with different strains of mana. I tried to imbue two portions at once, thus dually activating those parts. I found that I couldn¡¯t: the puzzle simply refused to respond when I did that.


    There were dozens of these small interactions. Sometimes an activation deactivated two other ¡®modules;¡¯ sometimes only one. And I thought I understood what the dwarven artificers meant when they said it was a test for mana sensitivity. If I blocked out all other senses, I could just feel the path of fire mana as the activation of each module sent cascading ripples to the others, activating or deactivating them in turn.


    But it wasn¡¯t just a test for mana sensitivity, either. There was a pattern to this, like a logic puzzle from my previous life. I was reminded fondly of a dozen logic gates connected together in a computer.


    So there are two ways to solve this, I reasoned. Through tracing the fire mana, or figuring out the pattern.


    I exhaled, opening my eyes and unclenching my hands from the little puzzle. It was a surprisingly complex little thing, and I had no doubt it would take me a while to solve.


    But I would solve it. I smiled, reaching into my dimension ring and withdrawing my journal. I flipped to a blank page, then began scribbling notes on the puzzle¡¯s function.


    This was something I¡¯d done countless times on Earth. As a programmer, the fundamental method of creating an algorithm involved breaking a large, complex problem down into individual steps. Then, to achieve the desired outcome, I would solve those smaller problems, all while working toward a bigger goal.


    And I¡¯d long ago discovered that this methodology worked exceptionally well with these kinds of logic puzzles. I felt a smile split my face as I imagined Seris¡¯ reaction after I eventually solved this. I hadn¡¯t seen the woman display shock very often, and I hoped I could draw that out.


    Thinking of Seris, however, dampened my mood slightly. Yesterday, I¡¯d freed Olfred from his shackles. And truthfully, I didn¡¯t regret doing so. But the Scythe¡¯s reaction in the aftermath was what truly stuck in my mind.


    After I¡¯d pulled her away from Olfred, Seris¡¯ intent had shifted from anger to shame and even¡­ fear. The fear I¡¯d felt radiating from the Scythe as she¡¯d dropped Olfred and looked me in the eye was something that would stay with me for a long, long time.


    Her eyes had blown wider than I thought I had ever seen them. Her pink lips had trembled nearly imperceptibly, and I could swear her hands had shook for an instant. She¡¯d been so¡­ rattled. I would have attributed it to the sudden appearance of Aldir, but I felt that couldn¡¯t be true.


    But what was she afraid of? I wondered, rolling the steel puzzle around in my hand. It couldn¡¯t be of me, could it?


    Afterward, she¡¯d given me a surface-level punishment for disobeying orders: a temporary reassignment to the Beast Glades. I knew it was to send me away, but the nagging question of why still ate at me.


    Olfred¡¯s words of advice still sifted through my head. His warnings that Seris was dangerous to us both.


    He¡¯s right about that, I recognized. She is dangerous to us. But¡­ I don¡¯t think she is in the way he predicted.


    I¡¯d need to be more careful when I returned from this assignment.


    Aurora was currently resting. Pushing back against Aldir¡¯s incursion had drained her energy, sapping her of what strength she had. Our mental tether conveyed her deep sleep, a pulsing rhythm of calm and serenity peeking just over the horizon of my thoughts.


    The fact that the pantheon General had no doubt seen my bond was another can of worms I wasn¡¯t ready to open yet. I¡¯d been so focused on staying under the radar in Alacrya, avoiding Agrona¡¯s eyes and keeping my secrets close at hand, that I hadn¡¯t deeply considered the forces of Epheotus learning of Lady Dawn¡¯s survival.


    My fingers clenched around the steel puzzle, and I had to restrain my strength to avoid crumpling it. I felt a tremor go through my body.


    All it had taken was a look. The barest splash of Lord Aldir¡¯s King¡¯s Force had nearly killed me. The very mana had pulped my organs, battered my insides, and left me gasping for breath. Only my bond¡¯s intervention had saved my life.


    Not since Agrona have I felt so powerless, I thought, tracing the flaming glyph with my eyes. That was the might of a true asura.


    Again, I found myself questioning what hope I had. Me, who wasn¡¯t even powerful enough to guarantee victory against the least of the Scythes. What chance did I have to actually affect any outcome in this war? In this world? That was supposed to be Arthur¡¯s destiny. And I was no Arthur.


    In my previous life, I was just a blip in a crowd. Arthur had been a king.


    Even the weakest asura could move through me like a boot over soft grass, and I was trying to deny such a being their greatest prize.


    A knock on my door broke me from my spiraling thoughts. I raised my head, pulling the puzzle into my dimension ring.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I called out, my voice echoing slightly along the stone walls of my cavern room.


    ¡°It is Xander, Lord Daen,¡± a familiar voice said from the other side of the door. ¡°Permission to enter?¡±


    I sighed lightly. ¡°Come in,¡± I said, standing up. I expected I knew what this was about.


    Xander entered my room, his eyes darting around for a moment before settling on me. His moss-green hair coated his face like reeds, and his back was hunched as usual.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been ordered to take you to the tempus warp,¡± he said. ¡°And send you to the Beast Glades, Lord Daen.¡±


    I nodded, stretching out my back. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    Without another word, Xander turned on his heel, strolling out the door. I followed after the spy mutely. I watched as he moved with a sure purpose, each footstep intent on the path ahead.


    ¡°Say, Xander?¡± I asked, suddenly curious as he led me through the winding tunnels. ¡±How did you end up in Renea Shorn¡¯s service?¡±


    The young man¡¯s footsteps halted for a moment. He turned over his shoulder, looking at me with surprising wariness. ¡°Why do you want to know, my lord?¡± he said slowly.


    I raised a brow, surprised by how guarded he seemed. I took a moment to respond, thinking of what to say. ¡°I want to understand Seris,¡± I said after a while, thinking of that fear she¡¯d projected over her intent. ¡°And you¡¯ve been a confidant of hers for a long time. If I want to know someone, knowing those close to them is a good way, no?¡±


    Xander snorted as he turned around, a surprising level of bitterness radiating through his intent¨Ceven masked as it was by his artifact. ¡°I¡¯m not as close with her as you think, Spellsong,¡± he said with a caustic undertone. ¡°You¡¯ve managed to get into her graces faster than any I¡¯ve seen, but you aren¡¯t unique.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The man measured his tone when he spoke again. ¡°But I was young when your Scythe approached me as Lady Shorn. The offers she made to my family made my employment with her more than worthwhile. And I gradually worked up the ranks through service and dedication. But that¡¯s not really enough for my family.¡±


    Yet the young man said it with a resigned sort of air that left me confused. ¡°You don¡¯t sound happy, though,¡± I said, rounding a bend in the caves. ¡°Working this close to a Scythe is certainly a worthy station, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Xander barked a bitter laugh. ¡°My family doesn¡¯t know I work for a Scythe, Lord Daen,¡± he said. ¡°They weren¡¯t allowed to know. Which might be why¡­¡± he shook his head absently, dismissing those thoughts.


    It seems his family treats him poorly for his perceived station, I thought with a furrowed brow. He seems to come from a powerful blood.


    ¡°If it¡¯s worth anything,¡± I said into the silence that followed Xander¡¯s last statement, ¡°I think you will get the recognition you deserve. Seris is kinder than she lets others think.¡±


    The spy looked at me with hooded eyes after those words, but didn¡¯t comment. We reached the room that I¡¯d used last time to tempus warp soon after, the silence deafening.


    On a nearby podium, the tempus warp sat. If I looked close enough, I could make out a few hairline cracks across its surface, which were common indicators of a tempus warp reaching the end of its lifespan.


    Xander walked forward stiltedly, laying his hand on the surface of the anvil-shaped artifact. ¡°You¡¯ll be portalled to the Beast Glades, where the camps are under the direction of Commander Cylrit,¡± the spy said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯d wish you luck, Lord Daen, but we both know you don¡¯t need it.¡±


    I closed my eyes, internally lamenting the fact that I¡¯d be placed directly under Cylrit¡¯s command. The stern Retainer and I did not like each other, and no small part of me worried the man would set me on latrine duty or something the moment I arrived.


    ¡°Wish me luck anyway,¡± I said, stepping forward. ¡°You never know when that might come in handy.¡±


    Xander snorted, then activated the artifact. A shimmering purple portal fuzzed into existence in the center of the room, casting everything in a light violet glow. ¡°Good luck, Spellsong,¡± he said.


    I nodded, then stepped through the portal, the cool pane of violet swallowing me whole.


    I immediately shivered as I stepped into the cold winter weather. On instinct, I coated myself in a layer of fire mana, surveying my surroundings.


    All around me, trees stretched high into the sky. I had appeared in a clearing, the grass beneath my feet frosted over. The sounds of bustling work echoed into the sky as soldiers took refuge beneath the boughs of trees, most shivering uncontrollably as they huddled in small groups.


    And considering Cylrit was standing right in front of me, it seemed he¡¯d been expecting my sudden appearance.


    ¡°Cylrit,¡± I said with a nod, still surveying the area around me. I counted fifty or so mages directly around, but surprisingly, no beasts. ¡°I¡¯d say I was happy to see you again, but that would be a lie,¡± I said with a smirk.


    The annoyingly handsome scarlet-eyed Retainer pierced me with his stare. ¡°I have been tasked with directing your abilities as are best seen fit, and thus, you have been placed directly under my command,¡± he said with a voice cold as ice. ¡°And you will start by addressing me by my title, Spellsong.¡±


    Do not punch that jaw, I told myself. No matter how good it would feel, you can¡¯t mess this up.


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°Well then, Retainer Cylrit,¡± I said, feeling my smirk twitch with irritation as I did my best to make his station sound like the sort of word used to describe a pest infestation rather than the greatest honor in all of Alacrya, ¡°What do you have in store for me?¡±


    Cylrit turned around, his dark plate boots trampling the grass as he strode away. ¡°Follow,¡± he commanded. ¡°You can do that much, since you cannot fly,¡± he said, walking away.


    I ground my teeth as I fell in behind Cylrit, both of our intents radiating quiet contempt. The Retainer led me at speed through the trees, weaving on a well-trodden path. Everywhere we went, we were met with hostile stares, though many were fearful.


    Cylrit led me to a large stack of crates deeper in the forest, the shadows overhead casting them in darkness. Around the jenga-like tower of boxes, soldiers performed their duties in armor camouflaged and shaded to blend in with their surroundings.


    As we approached, the soldiers¨Cwho each looked like they¡¯d fit in better with Rambo¨Cgradually turned their attention to us. I could practically taste the hostility in their intent. And considering the strength I could sense from each mage, I knew they were powerful in their own right.


    ¡°Captain Redwater,¡± Cylrit said sternly to one of the men at the lead. ¡°Prepare me one hundred vials of liquid corruption. They are to be delivered directly to my command tent in the next twenty minutes.¡±


    The man Cylrit had addressed bore dark smudges of paint beneath his eyes. His standard-issue gray and red armor had been colored in browns and forest greens, and the pauldrons were removed to expose his boulder-like shoulders. His messy hair was cut close to his head, accentuating his guerilla-esque appearance. The soldier sat on the edge of one of the crates, looking down on all the operations below. The edges of his lips began to curve up into a sneer at being called on.


    ¡°One hundred in twenty minutes?¡± the captain said slowly. He made a show of looking around at the camps. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can manage that so quickly, Commander,¡± he said in faux subservience. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can get it done in an hour or two instead. What say you, boys?¡± he said, leaning back where he perched.


    His subordinates, all lounging around the crates themselves, snickered slightly. ¡°Yeah, might take us a little while,¡± one jeered. ¡°We¡¯ve got all this work we need done. It''s gotta wait its turn.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s cool gaze settled on the lackey who had spoken out of turn¨Ca man with his hair nearly shaved to his head¨Cand flexed his killing intent. The man fell off his seat, gasping for air.


    The captain¡¯s hand immediately darted to a pair of kukris on his belt as his subordinate toppled, gasping for breath like a fish on dry land. The mocking atmosphere shifted into one far more confrontational and deadly as each soldier glared down at Cylrit.


    ¡°You will bring me one hundred vials,¡± Cylrit said, his voice just as devoid of inflection as ever, ¡°And I will not cut off your heads for military insubordination. Am I clear?¡± he aksed, his tone dipping dangerously as he stared up at the captain.


    I could taste the tension in the air, drawn taut as a bowstring. My brow furrowed as I shifted my stance slightly, mana thrumming through my veins in anticipation. The entire forest seemed to have gone silent, save for the man slowly choking on his own breath.


    ¡°Fine,¡± the captain at the top snarled. ¡°You¡¯ll have your supplies, traitor.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s intent released the man on the ground, who had been reduced to a burbling mess of tears. I could smell the acrid stench of urine radiating from him, making my nose wrinkle. ¡°It will not be a minute late,¡± the Retainer of Sehz-Clar said with finality.


    The way he said it¨Ca plain statement of fact¨Cdared the rough soldiers guarding the crates to do otherwise. To see what he would do to them if they disobeyed.


    Cylrit turned on his heel, marching through the forest once more as he left the rugged commandos behind. I followed after a beat later, my gaze lingering on the captain. He glared at me with undisguised hatred, and I could feel that fury even as the trees eclipsed him from view.


    ¡°So,¡± I said into the awkward silence as we approached a tall tent, ¡°What exactly was that about?¡±


    Cylrit sneered. ¡°These troops were commanded by Retainer Uto before his defeat,¡± he said stiffly. ¡°They do not appreciate being commanded by one from Sehz-Clar¨Cme in particular. The military bloods in charge keep their grudges long.¡±


    Ah, I thought. The Redfeud War. That explained the hostile looks we¡¯d been receiving throughout the forest.


    And the captain had called Cylrit traitor.


    ¡°But still, it¡¯s surprising that that captain would even try to defy you,¡± I said, raising my brow in silent question. There was a story here I was unaware of.


    After a moment, Cylrit acquiesced to my silent question. ¡°Those men are the Bastards Victorious,¡± he said with a snort. ¡°A small group of powerful high-tier mages who were trained and led directly by Retainer Uto. But the former Commander picked his subordinates for their cruelty first and their strength second.¡± His lips drew to a thin line. ¡°Were I like Uto, I would simply kill all seven there. Captain Jordan Redwater in particular is a monster in his own right, Spellsong, but they carry significant repute with the troops I am forced to lead.¡±


    I exhaled through my teeth. ¡°So you can¡¯t push too hard,¡± I said, filling in the blanks, ¡°Or else you risk alienating your entire force further.¡±


    I did not envy Cylrit his current station, but if anyone could pull these Vechorians into line, I reluctantly acknowledged it would be him. ¡°And what will I be doing here?¡±


    Cylrit turned to me right before we reached the tent. His cold eyes stared me down, and I felt my fists clench at my sides as I sensed his quiet dislike radiate outward. I narrowed my eyes, matching his stare.


    Seris¡¯ Retainer was only a few inches taller than me, which made him stand out like a pillar of dark steel as I stared up at him.


    ¡°You have continued to endanger my master¡¯s wellbeing, Spellsong,¡± he said. ¡°And it appears she has sent you here for some measure of punishment. So that is what I shall do.¡±


    I ground my teeth. ¡°And how would you define punishment, Cylrit?¡±


    ¡°The task of the lower soldiers in this front of the war is to infect as many beasts with corruption as possible. As the beasts are corrupted and corralled under the effects of beastwards, they will be gathered into a horde,¡± the dark-haired man said. ¡°And considering your strength, it should be no challenge for you to join them in this task.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± I breathed out. It actually was perfect for my plans, but there was a catch here. Something the infuriating Retainer would do to grind in the knife. ¡°So, what are you going to do to make this even worse for me?¡±


    The edge of Cylrit¡¯s lip curled up barely, saying a million words just on its own. ¡°I will not have you here for long, Spellsong, and you will work for all you are worth. I expect ten AA-class mana beasts corrupted in the following week. If you fail this task, then I will be forced to keep you for an extended period until you can learn to follow orders.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. Ten AA-class beasts would be nearly impossible for anyone, me included. But I had more than a few tricks up my sleeve. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll just have to do that then, won¡¯t I?¡± I said, stalking past the Retainer toward the tent he¡¯d led me toward. I¡¯d gathered that was to be my home base, per se. ¡°Anything else, Retainer Cylrit?¡±


    There was a pregnant pause that made me turn around once more, looking back toward the Retainer. He had a pinched expression on his face: one that made my brows rise in surprise.


    ¡°Scythe Seris cares for you, Spellsong, though I cannot fathom why,¡± he said begrudgingly, his words coming out stilted. ¡°And as I am tasked with serving my master, I must insist you do not get yourself killed or hurt in this process. She would be¡­ hurt by such an outcome. In more ways than one.¡±


    As the Retainer¡¯s words washed over me, I realized I felt wrong-footed. Cylrit¡¯s intent receded back into himself, and I felt my underlying dislike for the Retainer shift in uncertainty. He and I had settled into a mutual understanding¨Cand respect¨Cof one another in the wake of the War Summit. We didn¡¯t like each other, but neither did that mean we needed to constantly try and rip out each other¡¯s throats.


    ¡°I have no plans to die so easily. Try not to trip on your ego, Cylrit,¡± I said with a sigh, striding toward the tent. ¡°I¡¯d be forced to pick you back up.¡± Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 190: Cleansing

    Toren Daen


    I lounged in the bough of a tall tree, feeling as the cold wind rushed through the bare branches. My assimilated part-asuran physique and affinity for fire mana protected me from the chill, however.


    Far below me, a small, rodent-like mana beast with greenish fur was burrowing in the dirt. I watched it from far above, twirling a small glass vial through my gloved fingers.


    The little bottle of corruption glistened like dark ink as I held it, the low light of dawn absorbed into its murky surface. The tarry substance was slow to shift within its container, and it gave off a roiling, putrid sensation through the mana.


    I¡¯d been given a hundred of these vials, and had been tasked with corrupting ten AA-class mana beasts within the next week, alongside whatever else I could infect. When the time came, teams of mages would come through here with beastwards, the magic within each dark crystal calling to the corrupted mana beasts.


    Usually, it was an entire team of mid-tier mages that were sent out into the Beast Glades, tasked with quickly and efficiently trapping and infecting mana beasts for the eventual Beast Horde. But Cylrit, the asshole he was, decided to send me out solo.


    Truth be told, I thought, looking down on the little rodent beast far below as it dug at the dirt, That was probably the best decision. I¡¯m familiar with hunting in forests, I thought, remembering the Clarwood Forest. It felt like an age ago that I¡¯d survived in those wilds, training my magic and combat forms to prepare for what was to come in this world.


    Within that forest, I¡¯d quickly changed from prey to predator, standing at the top of the pecking order. Now I was in a similar situation as I watched from above like a hawk.


    If Cylrit had sent me with a team, I had no doubt I¡¯d be hampered in my abilities to not only do what he demanded, but also complete my own plans.


    As if on cue, I felt a slight weave through the ambient mana. The intent of beasts was more¡­ blunt than that of humans. There was far less nuance in each pulse through the air.


    But bloodlust? The need to kill? That was just as fervent as any mage¡¯s King¡¯s Force I¡¯d ever experienced.


    Another mana beast burst from the ground where the rodent had been digging, surging high into the air. The rodent didn¡¯t even have time to scream in surprise before it was swallowed in a single bite, a large gullet crunching and chomping on its body.


    The mana beast that had emerged from the earth shook itself as it settled down. It looked somewhat like a cross between a boar and an armadillo. Thick tusks emerged from the front of its pointed snout, and ridged plates of earth surrounded it in an armorlike shell. It snorted and pawed at the ground, sniffing at where its prey had just been.


    The thing was about as large as me, and if I were to give it a rating, I¡¯d wager it was B-class at least. Maybe A-class if I was feeling generous.


    I exhaled, watching my breath mist on the air, before clenching my hand around the bottle of corruption I¡¯d been fidgeting with. It was time to get to work.


    I rolled off the bough of the tree I¡¯d been perched on, allowing gravity to claim me. The ground¨Cthirty feet below¨Crushed up to meet me as I plummeted toward the mana beast.


    It didn¡¯t notice me, of course. Why would it? I¡¯d been concealing my presence expertly, and at this level, I didn¡¯t even need to use ambient mana.


    The boar-armadillo was still busy sniffing the ground when my fist¨Ccoated in a shroud of sound¨Ccrashed against its earth-armored skull from directly above. I¡¯d held back the force, of course, but the vibrating wave that traveled through the mana beast made it stumble and list to the side, snarling weakly as it was knocked nearly unconscious.


    I hit the ground without a drop of noise. I tossed the vial of corruption to the side, grasping it with my telekinesis and allowing it to hover nearby. I followed that up with a quick pull of psychokinetic force on the stumbling mana beast. The creature toppled onto its back as my magic pulled one of its legs out from under it, turning it into a tangle of stocky limbs. The monster flailed weakly, its fear stinking through the ambient mana as it struggled to remain awake.


    I walked over slowly, apologizing to the mana beast within the depths of my mind. I doubted the following process would be pleasant, and I bore it no ill will.


    Strengthening my body with mana, I loomed over the monster, forcing it still as I grasped at its jaw. Its limbs flailed weakly, and its large claws¨Clikely designed to dig through hardened stone¨Ccrashed harmlessly off my telekinetic shroud as it struggled to free itself.


    Using my superior strength, I forcefully pinned the monster to the frozen earth beneath me. My hands pried open the monster¡¯s jaws as its beady eyes darted around in wild terror. Its lifeforce hammered in my ears.


    The vial of corruption hovered over, outlined in shimmering white. With the barest effort of will, the cork popped off, revealing the sickly concoction to the air. I could smell it: a stench somewhere between oil and deep black smoke invaded my nostrils.


    The monster beneath me struggled harder, seeming to understand somewhere in its primitive mind the doom that was coming for it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said quietly, looking the beast in the eyes. Then the glass vial tipped in the air, the black sludge pouring out like tar. It dripped like black molasses into the mana beast¡¯s throat.


    The creature struggled at first, but as it was forced to swallow the horrid syrup, its movements began to slow. I hesitantly released the monster, pressing a hand to its soft underbelly right where its heart was.


    I quested out with my heartfire, feeling as the corruption spread throughout the monster¡¯s system. The moment the sludge had hit the mana beast¡¯s stomach, a chain reaction had started.


    I felt slightly sick to my stomach as I sensed the change occurring in grim detail. Somewhat similar to how the blithe plague spread through its victim''s mana channels, the black particles of sludge created a cascading wave of corruption through the mana beast¡¯s flesh.


    The sludge only needed to reach the creature¡¯s mana core. I watched with grim detachment as the pure mana within was tainted black. And from there, it spread like wildfire.


    Not unlike my own assimilated body, each cell in a mana beast¡¯s physique was deeply reinforced with mana. Mana streamed from the monster¡¯s core, each bit tainted dark. This corrupting concoction attacked each of the assimilated particles of mana like a virus, infecting them and continuing the process.


    A few minutes went by as I meticulously observed the change spread throughout the mana beast¡¯s body in real-time. Cell by cell, mana particle by mana particle, this beast was tainted with the black touch of the Vritra. Its dark brown fur gained accents of oily black. The earthen armor it bore took on a color not unlike the darkest shale as the touch of the basilisk overrode its body.


    But it wasn¡¯t a true change of physique, as my own Sculpting had been. No, this was a blunt half-measure. The boar-armadillo¡¯s heartfire squeezed with agony as its core shuddered, the organ bearing the brunt of the corruption. If I focused through my own lifeforce, I could feel as the Beast Core within slowly eroded away under the effect of the decay-aspected mana.


    That¡¯s probably why corrupted beasts almost never have beast cores, I thought, feeling a pang of pity for the monster as its legs kicked absently. A stream of dark froth trailed from its gullet as the transformation took hold. The corruption eats away at the core itself. And once the creature dies, what¡¯s left of the core breaks apart completely.


    It was a cruel, cruel transformation. Through my own medical expertise and the probing touch of my heartfire, I could guess at the deep agony this corruption must have caused this monster. It was bound to die anyway once its core fully eroded, too.


    It likely took a mana beast of exceptional power¨CS-class or higher¨Cto resist the core-degrading effects of this concoction.


    That was why the Beast Core of the corrupted Elderwood Guardian survived, I assumed.


    The boar-armadillo¡¯s struggles lessened as exhaustion overtook it. Its heartfire pulsed weakly, telling me of its weariness.


    The cold wind bit into my cheek as I stared down at the corrupted mana beast. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I¡¯m sorry I cannot give you even a moment to rest, I told the creature, closing my eyes, But I can¡¯t afford to stop now.


    I fell into the detached state I always did as I threaded my heartfire through the monster¡¯s body, agitating it as I called for the creature to heal the corruption. I started at the source of it all: the monster¡¯s beast core.


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    Within, dark motes of pure mana radiated outward as they were constantly turned, perpetuating the monster¡¯s corruption. I called to the monster¡¯s lifeforce, pushing it to deny this.


    I fell into my Acquire Phase as I did so, heightening my connection to the fire of my soul. As my own heartfelt call to the beast¡¯s inherent aether increased, so too did the driving force that attempted to wash away the touch of the basilisk in the monster.


    It helped that the ¡®attention,¡¯ per se, of the dark Vritra-tinged mana diverted as my Phoenix Will rose to the surface, seeking to clash and snuff it out. Like two apex predators meeting in the center of a grassy field, even this residue of the basilisk acted to confront my own mana.


    The beast crooned weakly as the corruption of its body shifted. I grit my teeth, using this opportunity to try and heal its core. Not unlike how I¡¯d healed Seth¡¯s blood sickness, with the primary driving force distracted, I could shore up the issues underneath.


    I¡¯d never been able to outright heal mana cores before, but I didn¡¯t truly need to. I simply needed to purify the blackened mana within that perpetuated the corruption. That was my truest goal.


    I felt as the beast¡¯s mana slowly shifted in tinge, my healing having the needed effect. As I agitated the monster¡¯s core, it naturally filtered out the horrid impurities within, shifting it back toward the natural, pure mana of its race.


    But then the core shuddered and cracked, my heartfire touch too forceful. I grit my teeth, wincing as the monster cried out in horrid pain. Its mana began to stream from it, abandoning the beast as its core slowly dissolved.


    I stepped back as the mana beast slowly died, looking down on it with remorse. I sighed, aiming a finger at its writhing body.


    A beam of plasma exited the digit, searing a perfect hole through the creature¡¯s head and putting it out of its misery. As the twitching of its limbs stilled, I closed my eyes, counting to ten in my head as I let my Acquire Phase simmer back into my core.


    I¡¯d improved my healing abilities tremendously as I worked to try and ease the pains of the Plaguefire Incursion, but this was something I¡¯d never tried to do before. I needed to be able to do this, though: for the future of this world and what I hoped to accomplish.


    One of the first avenues I¡¯d determined I needed to take to intervene in this world was always regarding the Legacy. Cecilia¡¯s reincarnation felt inevitable: with Tessia¡¯s capture, it would only be a matter of time.


    But what if I looked a bit further back? Tessia was only captured in the original canon because the Vritra could track her. Track her from her corrupted Elderwood Guardian¡¯s Will. But with my abilities¡­


    This mana beast may have been my first test subject, but it would not be my last. It would be a long, long week in this forest.


    ¡ª


    A few days later, I lounged around a small flickering fire on the forest floor. The orange flames crackled and popped as they tossed their sparks into the air like children throwing confetti, unaware of the world and still bearing their burning innocence.


    Around me, frostflies glimmered in intermittent flashes of deep blue, casting the winter glade in a cold light. Far in the distance, I could hear the calls of ice wolves as they stalked some unfortunate prey.


    I¡¯d spent my time darting around the Glades, infecting mana beasts and trying to cleanse others. Each night I camped on the ground, allowing myself a small bit of rest as this week dragged on.


    I¡¯d made some progress in my quest to heal a beast core from corruption, but I¡¯d failed far more than I¡¯d succeeded. It left me feeling uncertain and worried. Not for the first time, I found myself questioning if I¡¯d be able to succeed in my goals.


    I rolled the dwarven puzzle dodecahedron through my hand, humming a somber tune that called my intent forward to the fore. I¡¯d managed to work my way handily through the little puzzle these past few days, and I¡¯d put myself near seventy percent completion. The little glyph shone brightly in nearly every spot.


    My melancholy coated my mood like a mourning shroud as I inspected the burnished steel. Such a small thing, I thought grimly, To keep me held back.


    I was drawn from my reverie, however, as I felt my bond with Aurora gradually rekindle. The Unseen World washed across my vision, coating the forest around me in a shade of mist.


    Aurora¡¯s phantom form sat across the fire, blinking as her mind gradually came into focus. I smiled warmly, glad to see my bond awake again at last. Her very presence helped lift some of the darkness shrouding my thoughts.


    ¡°Hey, Aurora,¡± I said. ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living!¡± I furrowed my brow. ¡°Well, not exactly, but you get what I mean.¡±


    My bond huffed as she focused on me, her martial robes shifting slightly. ¡°You appear unharmed at least,¡± she said fondly. She then began to observe our surroundings, her starlike eyes drinking it all in. ¡°But you have somehow found yourself in a forest again. A pattern for you, my bond.¡±


    I smirked slightly. ¡°It is a bit of a pattern, isn¡¯t it?¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll have to tell you of my wild adventures these past few days.¡±


    Aurora sat and listened as I told her about what had happened in the aftermath of her defiance of Aldir¡¯s presence, shifting slightly and asking a few questions. The interaction was surprisingly therapeutic: I relied heavily on my bond for emotional stability. Just talking about what happened to me was relieving in a way I needed.


    As I finished my story, the fire crackled lowly in front of me. I could feel the quiet consideration from the phoenix shade across from me as she stared off into the distance, her eyes unfocused and her emotions heavier than my own.


    She¡¯s staring east, I realized, a pit of guilt growing in my stomach. She¡¯s staring toward her Hearth.


    Aurora turned her eyes to me, sensing my bitter thoughts. A slow, painfully understanding smile stretched across the dusky purple undertones of her skin.


    ¡°It has been many, many long centuries since I have seen the Beast Glades,¡± she intoned softly, standing and walking around the campfire so she sat near me. She felt just as warm as the fire. No; warmer. ¡°I cannot blame you for your inability to reach the Hearth on your own strength, Toren.¡±


    Those words did little to ease my mood. I reached my hand into the fire, poking a log so that it sat more firmly at the base. The dancing tongues couldn¡¯t hurt me; not at this measly level of heat.


    ¡°It¡¯s not easy, being reminded that I¡¯m amidst something so much vaster than me,¡± I said mournfully, settling back. ¡°It¡¯s a strange feeling, Aurora. I define myself as strong, yet every barrier that guards my way is because I¡¯m not strong enough.¡±


    Unbidden, I found myself thinking of Arthur. The young man faced many of the same struggles to grow in power, always feeling out of his depth. As I began to endure the same stressors, I found myself reviewing my notes on The Beginning After the End.


    How did Arthur¨Cwho I knew so well¨Cface his actions? How did he make peace with his growth and needs?


    The phoenix¡¯s arm rubbed comforting circles on my back. ¡°I do miss my Hearth, my bond,¡± she said sorrowfully, ¡°But there is another thing to consider. I have no doubt that Mordain is aware of our presence here, especially after my clash with General Aldir a few days ago. Yet I have seen no sign from him in attempted contact. I take that as a sign that, even were you powerful enough to reach my home, it is not yet time.¡±


    I blinked, looking at the shade in surprise as she drew me from my musings about Arthur Leywin. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said. ¡°Do you think your brother could sense your shade, even so far out?¡±


    Aurora nodded slowly. ¡°In part. Mordain is powerful, my young chick, even amongst the phoenixes. But I left a token of myself behind when I was sent to parlay with Agrona. That token¡­ should affirm my current survival, at least in some manner he can dissect.¡±


    She looked up at the canopy above us. The stars were blocked out by many clouds on high. ¡°Chul would be a grown man now,¡± she said sorrowfully, a single molten tear threatening to escape her burning eye. ¡°In asuran standard, all that he would need is his First Sculpting. Yet I¡­ I failed to assist him in that. I did not tend to my son as I should have.¡±


    I felt my bond¡¯s mood plummet at the mention of her family. My heart squeezed in painful sympathy as I wrapped an arm around her back, hugging her slightly and savoring the warmth. ¡°Tell me about Chul, Aurora,¡± I said, surprising myself. ¡°I¡¯m going to meet him eventually, yeah? I think I should have a heads up on how to treat my older brother.¡±


    Aurora turned to the side, blinking in surprise at my words. I smirked at the look of mild shock on her face, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve been adopted into your little nest, haven¡¯t I?¡± I pushed wryly. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that makes Chul my older brother.¡±


    After all, I¡¯d never been the younger brother. That was Norgan¡¯s job. I would need some pointers on how to talk to Chul.


    Aurora laughed, a melodic, beautiful sound as she tossed her head back. She seemed surprised by her own emotions as she chuckled, her feather-red hair swaying in an Unseen breeze.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious, Aurora,¡± I said, feigning determination. ¡°I¡¯m an Asclepius, aren¡¯t I? There isn¡¯t some sort of¡­ brother¡¯s ritual I need to attend? Some old phoenix tradition that I must train for for a hundred years?¡±


    Lady Dawn sniffled slightly, mussing my hair affectionately. ¡°No, there isn¡¯t. You are no banished asura to deny your brotherhood,¡± she said, laughter still in her voice. ¡°But I look forward to the day you shall meet your brother, Toren. He has my fire and his father¡¯s passion for life. His eyes glow like a sun and a mirror lake trapped in a waltz, and his smile is enough to light up the world.¡±


    ¡°It sounds like I have a lot to do if I want to live up to his expectations,¡± I said jokingly.


    Aurora shook her head, pulling me closer into a hug as the fire began to die down. ¡°You¡¯re beautiful as you are, my son,¡± she said, causing me to blush slightly in embarrassment. ¡±And I suspect you two would be wonderful for each other. Chul can be brash and headstrong: something I gave to him, certainly. He needs someone like you to help him see his way.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I asked, banishing the burning in my cheeks as Aurora let me go. ¡°And what could Chul teach me?¡±


    ¡°He is a master of our martial forms, my son,¡± my bond said with utmost seriousness. ¡°And Chul is exceptional at every single method of the hunt. He was hunting mana beasts well before he reached the age of five,¡± she said with a note of pride. ¡°And he sees the truth of every person. It is his gift to look upon a person and know their worth.¡±


    I chortled slightly, feeling my spirits lift as I continued to talk through the night with my bond.

 Chapter 191: A Known Prisoner

    Toren Daen


    I rested intermittently on Aurora¡¯s back as we flew over the Beast Glades, her large bronze feathers reflecting the evening light. The wind that whipped past us was cold and biting, but I was sheltered by the even warmth of the relic¡¯s heat.


    A week had passed since my original pseudo-punishment was sent out, and I was heading back to the Alacryan encampment. I¡¯d exhausted my entire supply of corrupted elixirs, and what I had to show for it¡­


    On my final attempt, I¡¯d managed to heal one mana beast of the corruption. The process was painful, hellish, and would likely leave that particular beast mentally scarred for the rest of its life, but I¡¯d done it.


    That was what was truly important. That I could wash the taint of the Vritra from a beast core was what I set out to prove in the first place in the Beast Glades. Because if I could cleanse that corruption from a core, that meant that Tessia¡¯s Elderwood Guardian¡­


    I¡¯d also managed to reach my quota of ten corrupted AA-class mana beasts through the help of Aurora¡¯s relic. I could cover ground far, far faster with her assisted flight, meaning I had a far better range to hunt my prey.


    Fuck you, Cylrit, I thought smugly, holding the pictures I¡¯d taken of each corrupted AA-class beast with the camera artifact he¡¯d provided me. I actually managed to complete the task you gave me.


    ¡°You take far too much pleasure in irritating the Retainer, my bond,¡° Aurora prodded, flying close to the tops of the trees. ¡°I begin to worry if it is not detrimental to your health.¡±


    I scoffed, though the sound was carried away by the wind. ¡°I dislike Cylrit for perfectly justifiable reasons,¡±I argued back.


    ¡°And those are?¡± my bond queried, tilting her large avian head. The suns in her metallic eye sockets seemed to sparkle with even more amusement.


    I elected to look at the rushing forest below us instead of meeting the knowing glint in Aurora¡¯s eyes. ¡°He made me regrow a tooth,¡± I said after a minute of trying to find a good reason. ¡°That is one of the most uncomfortable things to heal. I think I reserve a right to bear a grudge.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is,¡± Aurora replied with an amused chuckle. ¡°There is no other reason. Certainly not one that has silver hair and wears dark dresses.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯d accuse me of something so shallow,¡± I retorted, crossing my arms. ¡°I thought you knew me better, Aurora.¡±


    Outwardly, I displayed annoyance and surprise, but internally I cringed.


    My bond shifted to observing the rolling hills¨Ceach littered with thick, thick trees¨Cand opted to send a comforting stream of warmth over my bond. ¡°I am old, Toren,¡± she said with slight amusement. ¡°Do not forget that I was the focus of many proposals in my time. I know what it looks like for men to squabble over a woman.¡±


    I winced. Ouch.


    ¡°Hey, Aurora,¡± I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable from how close to home my bond¡¯s words had reached, ¡°We¡¯re getting close to the encampment. I¡¯m going to revert the relic now so we don¡¯t get spotted.¡±


    The phoenix sighed audibly, which sounded like a puff from a steam engine. ¡°As you wish, my son,¡± she said chidingly. ¡°I am ready.¡±


    I swallowed, then reached a hand toward my sternum. I called my lifeforce to my hands, the light streaming with orange and purple hues as I grasped the incorporeal tether that streamed into my core.


    I couldn¡¯t see the vein of heartfire that tied the feather in my core to Aurora¡¯s relic without the use of my Acquire Phase, but I could hear it.


    With a slight grunt, I pulled the invisible vein from my chest, holding it out. The relic began to shrink and twist inward on itself as its source was removed, shifting away from its Vessel Form. I held my hand out absently as I began to fall from the sky, my mode of transportation having vanished from beneath my boots.


    A bare mental nod from my bond told me that she¡¯d retaken control of the relic in its Puppet Form. I engaged my telekinetic rune as I approached the trees, aligning myself so that I landed perfectly on a branch.


    The entire tree shook from the impact of my feet considering I¡¯d been going at a considerable velocity beforehand, but my assimilated physique¨Ccombined with the fact I bore the blood of the phoenix¨Cprotected me from any damage.


    Back to the basics again, huh? I thought, staring across the trees as I mapped my route in advance. Most of the trees didn¡¯t have leaves, though a select few species appeared to bear leaves the color of snow. I¡¯m back to parkouring across a forest. Who would¡¯ve guessed?


    I set off a bare moment later, bounding across the limbs of the trees at a considerable pace as I set a path toward the Alacryan camp. The familiar process of bounding across trees, the feeling of each stretch of wood bending underneath my boots, and the rush of wind across my hair made me feel a bit of hearty nostalgia.


    I wondered how Naereni was faring back in East Fiachra. I wondered if she¡¯d taken my advice on contacting Alaric, or if she¡¯d decided to forge her own path. She had big boots to fill now that Karsien had left them.


    I knew Wade no longer worked his job at the library in lieu of the Plaguefire Incursion, but I wondered if he would try and get another job. He¡¯d told me once in confidence that he worked at the library to try and connect himself to his family. They were normal, struggling people, and he felt he needed to do something to detach himself from the gritty work of thievery.


    And Sevren¡­ Sevren would be fine. Especially after he¡¯d gained his mechanical arm, I had no doubt he would reach greater heights of strength than before. If he were to encounter the aetheric millipede as he had in The Beginning After the End canon, I only hoped that he¡¯d leave enough of a corpse for Arthur to absorb. Especially with Caera by his side, I felt confident he would achieve whatever goals he set in front of himself.


    I had asked Sevren if he wanted to send me letters over the months, but the mage had¨Cas always¨Cbeen distrustful of the Alacryan system. He didn¡¯t trust any message that he sent to reach me un-tampered.


    ¡°The risk is too high that the message inside will be something entirely different,¡± he¡¯d said while working through old martial forms with his new arm. ¡°It would be just like the Vritra to do so.¡±


    Part of me wasn¡¯t so sure about his reasoning. Part of me still worried this was his way of shutting himself off from the world. But Caera had promised me that she¡¯d make sure her brother didn¡¯t fall into his reclusive ways again.


    I hope he finds a way to mend his relationship with his family, I thought sadly. Lenora Denoir was¡­ deeply hurt by him.


    Sevren had told me of his falling out with his mother, where he¡¯d learned the truth of Abigale¡¯s death. He¡¯d told me in visceral detail how she¡¯d left him, washing her hands of keeping him safe. But it had caused a fundamental split in their relationship.


    I fell out of my musings as I approached the encampment. I couldn¡¯t sense anyone within, of course, as a few casters were tasked with keeping up a consistent barrier to obscure the group¡¯s presence at all times.


    I dropped from the trees as I got close, my senses expanding as I passed the barrier. I walked forward, wondering where I¡¯d find Cylrit.


    Yet my thoughts were broken as I felt a fast-thumping heartfire not far ahead. The intent in the air was laced with putrid fear, while more than a few other mages pulsed indignation and satisfaction in turn.


    What is going on? I thought, feeling my brow wrinkle in confusion.


    Aurora¡¯s puppet flew forward as she sensed my worry, weaving through the trees as she surged toward the main part of the camp in a blur of bronze. I walked forward purposefully, not knowing what to expect.


    My bond¡¯s disgust hit me like a wave. Those beasts, she hissed angrily, whatever she saw rousing her ire. Do they not know shame? Is this what they do with prisoners?


    Lady Dawn¡¯s words set my heart racing in my chest. On instinct, I reached a hand out to my side, my fingers feathering through Aurora¡¯s tether with her puppet. And as I saw through her eyes for a bare moment, I felt my own mood dip into something dark and angry.


    The group of commandos Cylrit had ordered to deliver bottles of liquid corruption¨Cthe Bastards Victorious¨Ccrowded around a single man. The captain was forcing a captive man¡¯s head under a barrel of water, holding it there for an extended period, before roughly pulling him out by his hair.


    The captive gasped as they finally had air again, coughing and sputtering weakly as they struggled against their bonds.


    ¡°See, this is what we do with rats,¡± Captain Jordan Redwater sneered. ¡°We drown them, bit by bit. Isn¡¯t that right, you elven trash? This is what you like, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    With surprise, I noticed that the captive was an elf. Their ears were long and pointed like knives that stuck out from short-cropped hair. The commandos laughed as the elf cried out in pain before his face was shoved underwater again. His hands¨Cwhich were bound behind his back by thick rope¨Cshowed obvious signs of torture. His fingers were clearly broken, smashed as if by a hammer.


    I withdrew my hands from Aurora¡¯s tether, feeling fury surge in my gut at the witnessed torture. My first instinct was to call on my magic and barge into the clearing and bully the commandos into submission, flexing my intent and baring my fangs like a beast.


    But not all problems could be solved with strength alone. If I were too forceful, I¡¯d disrupt the careful equilibrium Cylrit had managed with his presence over these Alacryans. Furthermore, I couldn¡¯t afford accusations of treason were I to appear too protective of some random Dicathian.


    But I couldn¡¯t leave that elf to his cruel fate. Cylrit had told me these men were trained directly by the cruel Retainer Uto, and I shuddered inside to imagine what they would do to someone defenseless.


    I found myself thinking of Seris as she¡¯d faced off with Mardeth under the guise of Renea Shorn. Without an ounce of killing intent, she¡¯d maneuvered her way into a victorious position. I needed Seris¡¯ strength here: her cunning and foresight.


    I felt Aurora¡¯s steady anger fueling my own, but she was careful to let me think. The soldiers ahead weren¡¯t torturing that elf for information, that was certain. They were going out of their way to be cruel.


    That¡¯s my angle, then,


    I thought, steadying my breathing and bringing myself under control. If I wanted that elf out of their grasp, I needed justification. Furthermore, I needed a cool head and a firm hand.


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    I strode forward, using the elf¡¯s terrified heartbeat as a beacon as it drew me from the treeline. Soon enough, I saw with my own eyes as the captain took his time holding the elf¡¯s head underwater.


    One of Captain Redwater¡¯s cronies, whose hair looked like it had been singed in a fire and bore ragged burns all along his face, noticed me first. His eyes widened as he rushed to talk to his leader, causing a commotion.


    The eyes of the seven guerrilla warriors focused on me with intensity. Their intents surged at my presence, anger and anticipation rising. I forced myself to keep my expression steady as the Redwater man pulled his captive from the barrel, tossing him to the frozen ground and kicking him hard in the ribs.


    The elf cried out in pain as something audibly crunched. My hands twitched where I held them behind my back.


    ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t Spellsong,¡± the leader of the Bastards Victorious jeered, the dark paint under his eyes seeming to darken in the low light. ¡°Are you done with your little quest already?¡±


    ¡°Captain Redwater,¡± I said with restrained anger, my eyes darting to the elf who moaned pitifully on the ground. ¡°What are you doing right now?¡±


    He knelt, picking up the elf by the back of his ragged leather armor. ¡°We were just entertaining a guest, weren¡¯t we, boys?¡± Jordan Redwater said with a laugh. ¡°Found this one sneaking around our camp like a rat, so we had to show him what we do with rats. We found ourselves wondering at their strange magic, you see.¡±


    The captain¡¯s knowing eyes held my own, searching for any sort of reaction as I strode forward. ¡°They don¡¯t use runes, you know. But we wondered if their mana was somehow bound to their hands since they always wave them around to cast their spells,¡± he said, grinding his boot onto the elf¡¯s broken hand. The captive cried out in pain.


    ¡°But he kept on casting his magic even after we broke his hands for him. But they always chant their words, so now we need to try the next logical thing,¡± he said with a cruel smirk. ¡°He hasn¡¯t been able to cast anything with his head underwater. I think that proves my hypothesis correct, hmm? All that¡¯s left is to cut out his tongue to truly know.¡±


    The captain¡¯s jibes washed over me like fire off a magma mallard¡¯s back. Even as my emotion kindled in my breast, I knew how to keep myself under control from such jeers.


    I stood a few feet away from Captain Redwater, eying him severely. From what I could sense of his mana, I suspected he was at least in the mid-silver stage. Furthermore, the rest of his unit¨Cwhich had shifted to surround me in a half-crescent formation as they watched the interplay¨Cwere each either in the initial silver stage or in the light yellow stage.


    I narrowed my eyes. Probably regalia holders as well, I thought sourly. These men are powerful indeed.


    I looked down at the captive elf. I needed to play my hand carefully. ¡°If you truly want to discover these Dicathians¡¯ strange methods of casting,¡± I said evenly, ¡°There are certainly more efficient ways.¡±


    Captain Redwater rolled his eyes, spitting to the side. ¡°Efficient? Maybe. But fun? There¡¯s none of that. Are you upset with our methods, soft south?¡±


    At the goading words, the other Bastards Victorious¨Ceach clothed in strange camouflaged armor and bearing rugged attire¨Cfocused on me, their mana revving in preparation. They wanted a fight.


    I strode forward nonchalantly, masking my emotions. Compared to the overwhelming pressure of Aldir, these paltry seven were nothing. I walked until I was barely a foot away from Captain Redwater, the hand not holding the elf¡¯s armor clenching into a fist.


    ¡°You are going to relinquish the prisoner to me,¡± I said with grim certainty to the man in front of me.


    ¡°And why is that, Spellsong?¡± Captain Redwater said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Please, do tell. I¡¯m dying to know why we¡¯d stop such beneficial experiments.¡±


    ¡°Did you scout the surroundings for more spies after capturing this one?¡± I asked in turn, making a bet that the man hadn¡¯t.


    Captain Redwater seemed to be expecting anything but those words. He blinked, surprised at my sentence. He floundered for a moment, seeming to struggle to respond.


    ¡°It seems you didn¡¯t,¡± I said with a sneer, letting my true emotions radiate out for an instant. ¡°And because you failed to search for more scouts after catching one, you¡¯ve already proven yourself incapable,¡± I said with finality, tilting my head as Aurora always did whenever she looked at prey. ¡°You have two options, Redwater. Either you continue to torture your captive and neglect your duties,¡° I said, flicking out a finger, ¡°Or you can relinquish your prisoner to me, and I won¡¯t let Scythe Seris know of your little fuckup.¡±


    I knew there were no elves left around. My sense for heartfire would have alerted me were there any notable signatures lingering, and I had a feeling that if there had been another group here, they were likely long gone. But the Bastards Victorious certainly couldn¡¯t afford to be known as the group who had captured a single scout and then gotten so carried away in their bloodlust and torture that they¡¯d let any spies escape without any sort of chase.


    Jordan Redwater¡¯s face darkened as he recognized the bind I¡¯d put him in. While Vechor was far more brutal in its military inclinations, the punishments levied for failed tactical decisions were just as sharp and scathing as their weapons.


    ¡°Now,¡± I said, holding out my hand, ¡°What will it be?¡±


    The tension between us grew as I felt the captain¡¯s palpable fury radiate out from him. The Bastards Victorious fingered their weapons angrily, but they knew just as well as I that they couldn¡¯t be the ones to start a fight between us.


    Jordan scoffed, then threw the elven prisoner to the ground. ¡°Take him,¡± he said caustically. ¡°His screams were getting tiresome anyway. Boys?¡± he called out to his lackeys, ¡°We need to do a sweep of the area. Make sure we haven¡¯t missed any more rats.¡± The captain glared at me. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll get another to play with.¡±


    I stood stock still as Jordan and his cronies walked away, each sending their own wave of palpable intent out. But just as the captain was about to reach the treeline, he turned back to me. ¡°You¡¯re not as safe with your Scythe as you think, Spellsong,¡± he sneered. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll see. Nobody is invincible.¡±


    With those ominous words, he swept back toward the main area of the camp, leaving me alone in the forest with the captive elf. When I was certain the seven were gone, I turned to look at the man I¡¯d spared a brutal death.


    I was surprised to notice that his eyes were blown wide, looking at me with two orbs of gray. I¡¯d been so focused on the Bastards Victorious that I hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d probably witnessed the entire exchange.


    I let out a breath of pent-up emotion, striding toward the elf where he was bound on the ground. ¡°You picked just about the worst people to get caught by, friend,¡± I said casually, crouching where the bound man still lay. ¡°The Bastards Victorious were trained personally by Retainer Uto in their cruelty.¡± My face sharpened into something more serious. ¡°Can you walk?¡±


    The elf watched with small gray pinpricks as Aurora¡¯s puppet settled on my shoulders. He seemed enraptured by the relic, his focus darting between me and it in a frantic shuffle. ¡°I¡­ I can,¡± he said croakily. He shuffled, wincing as he agitated his broken hands. A bit of blood dripped from his lips, no doubt from that brutal kick a few minutes earlier.


    I laid a hand on the elf¡¯s forearm, grasping tightly before he was able to jerk away. He shouted in alarm as my hands glowed with orange-purple light, the energy washing down. His fear shifted to surprise, however, as the bones in his hand began to reknit under the effects of my lifeforce. More to the point, I eased the bruising of his ribs with a simple application of my aetheric touch.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I can do for now,¡± I said, withdrawing my healing. ¡°Without the right tools, the bones will be set wrong.¡± I cocked my head. ¡°What is your name, elf?¡±


    The gray-eyed elf¡¯s frantic eyes shot back to me. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you anything, Alacryan,¡± he said with surprising resolve, practically yelling.¡°I won¡¯t betray my people for you!¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Well, the thing is that I believe you,¡± I said. ¡°And whether you believe me or not, I am not going to torture you for information. But make no mistake: this is an interrogation.¡± I looked deep into the terrified elf¡¯s eyes. ¡°I am the only person here who can protect you from pricks like the Bastards Victorious, and that can only happen if you give me something to justify keeping you off the chopping block.¡±


    The elf swallowed, shivering as the winter wind blew through the forest. His mana reserves seemed to be nearly empty, meaning even if he was an augmenter, he wasn¡¯t able to reinforce his body against the chill. ¡°Albold,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°My name is Albold, Alacryan,¡± he spat.


    I blinked in surprise, reeling back slightly. I recognized that name. And now that I inspected the captive in front of me, I thought I recognized his features, too. ¡°Of the Chaffer House, I presume?¡± I said, nodding slightly. I brushed off how the elf¡¯s surprise and fear redoubled as I correctly deduced his family name. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±


    The Chaffers were an elven military house closely allied with the Eraliths. Albold Chaffer, stereotypical of his family¡¯s talents, bore exceptional senses. I could certainly justify keeping him unharmed if I argued he was close to the elven royal family. ¡°Now, Albold,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m going to need to know exactly why you were skulking around our encampment here.¡± S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Truthfully, I didn¡¯t expect an answer to that question. Just with the knowledge I had, I suspected I could make a valid case for keeping Albold as a valued hostage rather than a tortured prisoner, but I had to ask.


    So I was surprised when the elf answered. ¡°The¡­ the Trailblazers,¡± he muttered. ¡°I left them, going out on my own. Disobeyed orders. I¡¯m out here alone. I¡¯m probably labeled a deserter now, but I sensed something¡­ Something I didn¡¯t understand.¡± His eyes bore into the relic on my shoulder. ¡°What is that on your shoulder?¡± he asked, his voice caught somewhere between fear and awe. ¡°It¡¯s like nothing I¡¯ve ever sensed. I followed it the best I could, but¡­¡±


    Albold¡¯s words hit me like a hammer blow. I exchanged a glance with Aurora¡¯s puppet, my eyes widening at the implications. ¡°It seems the Chaffer senses aren¡¯t to be underestimated at all,¡± I muttered, staring intently at the elf at my feet. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t answer that question, Albold. Both because you wouldn¡¯t believe me, and because I¡¯m the one asking questions here.¡±


    But within me, another thought made me churn with guilt. He¡¯s only here because he somehow sensed the presence of Aurora¡¯s relic, I realized.


    ¡°Not only here,¡± my bond immediately corrected, nipping at my ear with the bronze beak of her puppet. ¡°This elf chose to disobey an order. He chose to try and track our presence over the Beast Glades.¡±


    I exhaled, then wrapped the young elf under a bound arm as I pulled him to his feet. He groaned as I did so, but I could only afford to be so gentle. ¡°You¡¯re my prisoner now, Albold,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask that you come with me willingly.¡±


    The young elf was silent, but he moved his feet sure enough as I tugged him through the forest. He stumbled every now and then from exhaustion as we neared the main camp, and I allowed him a few moments to catch his breath.


    When we reached the main camp, the hostile stares I received were just as potent as before. I let them brush over me as I escorted my prisoner toward Cylrit¡¯s command tent. I thought I received a bit more attention than before as I hauled an elven captive with me.


    Albold¡¯s eyes darted around the encampment, seemingly trying to absorb everything at once. He probably thought he had a chance of escaping, and then reporting back to his unit of the Trailblazers.


    Cylrit, unsurprisingly, was waiting for me in front of his tent. His pitch-black armor absorbed the low light, and his white cape whipped in the chill wind. His scarlet eyes flashed as he took in Albold. The elf I¡¯d been hauling forward froze like a deer in the headlights as he looked at the Vritra-blooded man.


    ¡°A Retainer,¡± he said in a fearfully small voice, trembling slightly.


    Right, I thought with a sigh. Chaffer senses. He probably has a better feel for Cylrit¡¯s strength than I do.


    ¡°Hello, Cylrit,¡± I said, flouring my hand. The pictures I¡¯d taken of the ten AA-class corrupted mana beasts appeared in my hands from my dimension ring. With a bare application of my telekinetic spellform, they arrayed themselves in front of the Retainer. ¡°I¡¯ve completed my task, as directed.¡±


    The retainer¡¯s eyes slowly scanned over the images arrayed in front of him, before snapping back to me. ¡°So it seems,¡± he said sharply. ¡°What of the elf you have captive?¡±


    I snorted. ¡°The Bastards Victorious found this one creeping around our encampment,¡± I said, gesturing to his hands and beleaguered appearance in general. ¡°I took him off their hands. Can you contact Seris and get a transport ready for the two of us?¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s eyes¨Clike pools of bright blood¨Cstared into mine. ¡°And why must you take this elf with you, Spellsong?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°This captive of mine is Albold Chaffer,¡± I said in reply. ¡°He¡¯s from a powerful elven house, closely aligned with the elven royal family,¡± I said by way of explanation. ¡°He would be more valuable as a hostage rather than a prisoner to torture.¡± I paused, knowing this wouldn¡¯t be enough on its own to convince the Retainer.


    I felt a pit yawn in my stomach as my thoughts drifted down darker paths. I worked my jaw for a moment, thinking of what I needed to resolve myself to do in war.


    ¡°And he knows Virion Eralith, the commander of the Triunion forces, personally.¡±


    Albold¡¯s frantic gaze snapped to my side at my words, his eyes blown wide with a different kind of fear. ¡°You can¡¯t use me,¡± he said with a note of deep fear in his voice as he began to struggle futilely against my arm. ¡°You can¡¯t use me to get to him! I won¡¯t betray my¨C¡±


    With a guilty application of sound magic, I silenced any noise he made. His mouth moved as he tried to yell, but no voice came out.


    Cylrit¡¯s mouth flattened out as he watched the confirmation of my words. ¡°A tempus warp will be made ready for you shortly,¡± he said with a grunt. ¡°But this elf is your prisoner, Spellsong. Your duty. Any issues regarding him will be levied on your head. Do you understand?¡±


    I nodded, cementing my resolve even as Albold¡¯s mute cries scraped at my conscience.

 Chapter 192: A Vision of Him

    Arthur Leywin


    My body ached as I sat myself down on my bed. My clothes stuck to my body in uncomfortable patches, the results of the day¡¯s training making themselves known.


    I took a few steadying breaths, allowing myself to settle back into my natural rhythm. Behind me, my window of the castle looked out on the sprawling expanse of the beast glades. A few rays of moonlight stretched through the opening, the touch of silver light on my back doing little to soothe my pains.


    In the wake of my battle with Uto, Virion had assigned me a strict training regimen in the castle. As I was on call to respond to any sightings of the Asclepius Retainer, increasing my strength had become a paramount focus. Every day, I battled with Elders Camus, Buhnd, and Hester, with assistance from Kathyln Glayder. When they became exhausted, I was tasked to spar with whatever Lance was present, be that Varay or Bairon.


    Perhaps the only thing I¡¯d enjoyed this past week or so was the satisfying feeling of my fist grinding across Bairon¡¯s face. But I¡¯d been forced to do nothing but train for every waking moment of my day.


    I shut my eyes tight. I¡¯d wanted to spend more time with Ellie in the castle now that I¡¯d basically been permanently stationed here, but I couldn¡¯t afford to with my training. My current predicament reminded me painfully of my past life. Where I¡¯d engrossed myself so much in training with Lady Vera that I neglected my friends.


    By immersing myself in my quest for revenge, I¡¯d forsaken the only two people in my life who truly mattered. Nico and Cecilia were swallowed by my selfishness, their emotions fuel for the fire of my vengeance.


    ¡°You can¡¯t think like that,¡± Sylvie pushed, her white fox form hopping up onto the bed beside me. ¡°This life isn¡¯t like your past one. You¡¯re not King Grey. You¡¯re Arthur. My papa.¡±


    I chuckled, tiredly scratching Sylvie¡¯s head. The warmth she sent over our bond as I did so was reassuring, but I found myself questioning how true her words were.


    Now, as in my life as King Grey, I found myself being forced to dedicate my mind and body to a cause bigger than I. The only difference now was that I had people I cared for. People I loved and would give anything to protect.


    My heart clenched painfully as I thought of my mother and father, so determined to enter this war. I had to do my part to protect them, so they wouldn¡¯t have to throw away their lives.


    With an effort of will, I withdrew two select items from my dimension ring. Uto¡¯s horns settled into my palms, the crisp inky objects settling solidly.


    Sylvie¡¯s ears immediately perked up as her eyes dilated, focusing on the horns. ¡°Arthur,¡± she said excitedly, bouncing over like a cat that had been presented with a treat, ¡°Are those what I think they are?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I breathed out, staring at the ridges on each horn. ¡°Seris said these would help me grow stronger. It¡¯s about time we both used this avenue. I haven¡¯t had time to absorb them with how rigid my training has been, but¡­¡±


    I handed one of the horns off to my bond, who took it excitedly. We¡¯d talked before about plans for these horns in passing, and my foxy little dragon knew she needed to get stronger just as I did.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to start absorbing this horn,¡± I said seriously. ¡°Our enemies always seem to be one step ahead of us, Sylv, but that will start to change with this.¡±


    A serious look crossed my furry bond¡¯s face. ¡°We¡¯ll face whatever comes, Arthur,¡± she said, putting a paw over the horn I¡¯d given her. ¡°And know I¡¯ll be right beside you the entire way.¡±


    I felt a soft smile split my face. ¡°I can always count on you, Sylv,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s get down to this, shall we?¡±


    After Sylvie¡¯s affirming nod, I settled myself more comfortably, allowing my shoulders to relax. With a deep breath, I began to probe the inside of the horn with my mana.


    I expected something akin to an elixir: a bundle of condensed mana that was easily distributable across the mana veins, allowing the energy to reach my core. Except after a few minutes of probing about inside the horn, I found nothing.


    Time trickled by, and I felt my brow furrow in confusion. Had the mana within dispersed after being severed from Uto¡¯s head, or¨C


    An indescribable force pulled at my mind, wrenching me from my reverie. Against my will, I felt as my consciousness was sucked into the horn. I felt a surge of panic as I began to black out¨Cquite literally. Darkness tinged the edges of my vision, my sense of awareness shifting.


    I¡¯d never experienced anything quite like this in any world, and the sensation left me distinctly afraid for a moment. I had to forcefully remind myself that I was still sitting on my bed, my bond right beside me. Yet having the sanctity of my mind touched¡­ rattled me in a way I didn¡¯t expect.


    I¡¯d grown used to the unexpected, especially after being reincarnated into another world. I¡¯d been granted a new physical body, new features, and new abilities to master. But through it all, one thing stayed the same: my mind.


    But now I was at the mercy of whatever this force was, even as a shroud finally covered every inch of my vision. Shadows warped and shifted all around me like a pot of dark ink being stirred by an invisible ladle. My perception wavered strangely, my mind absorbing information in place of a physical body.


    But after subjective hours of mindless drifting through the dark nothingspace, the shadows began to change: lifting and shifting as if a theater¡¯s curtains were being drawn away from my eyes.


    And found myself in an entirely unfamiliar space. Rows upon rows of paintings lined a darkly ornate hall, each depicting brutal scenes of warfare. Of individual battles. The low light made every shadow seem longer, but that wasn¡¯t ¡®my¡¯ focus.


    In front of me were two familiar mages, facing off with me in clearly combative stances. I recognized Cylrit on sight: he was wearing the same matte-black armor as when I¡¯d met him off the coast of Sapin. His face was narrowed in an expression of unfamiliar anger, but I quickly found my focus narrowing on the other person. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Beneath the mask, the Asclepius Retainer was a handsome young man¨Cmaybe not that much older than myself. His eyes burned with the same orange glow as when he¡¯d spotted me in the cavern in Darv, but I was able to see how his jaw clenched in restrained anger.


    I felt a well of disdain rise up as I stared at the two. A quiet hatred and contempt sifted throughout my blood, urging me on.


    I realized, logically, I should feel something else right now: maybe fear? Anger, or perhaps reservation? After all, Cylrit was my enemy. And the Asclepius Retainer had deeply complicated this war with their ability to influence the Lance artifacts.


    But I realized very quickly that whatever emotions I was ¡®feeling¡¯ weren¡¯t mine. Not exactly. They were¨C


    ¡°But you know what else? Good ol¡¯ Cylrit here left all fun behind¨Cbut there was another who knew how to really live it up,¡± I said, my voice like the scratch of nails on a chalkboard. Except I didn¡¯t consciously choose to say the words. ¡± I always wanted to meet that Mardeth fellow. His methods really spoke to me, you know? All those bodies he left made things so much more efficient.¡±


    The Asclepius Retainer¡¯s hands clenched into fists at his sides. I was vaguely aware that ¡®I¡¯ wanted something more than that.


    ¡°Cylrit is right. Your taunts are easy to see through, Uto.¡±


    As ¡®I¡¯ walked forward to stare down at the Asclepius Retainer, I tried to piece together what was happening. It appeared I was living through some sort of memory from Uto¡¯s perspective. I¨Cor Uto¨Cfelt a deep well of disdain for both mages in front of me, but particularly for Cylrit. But why, I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°You¡¯re a shitty liar, you know. I can see how much you want to crater in my face. Like an unscratchable itch on your back that you just. Can¡¯t. Reach,¡± ¡®I¡¯ said, trying to goad a reaction. ¡°Tell me what Mardeth did, Spellsong. I wanted to know exactly what made you throw your temper tantrum.¡±


    Who is Mardeth? I wondered, noting the name. A Retainer? A Scythe?


    I felt a strange sense of deja vu as the strawberry-blonde mage stared up at Uto in quiet defiance, his jaw clenching and working as his eyes flashed. But I felt a deeper sense of satisfaction from just that sentence: finally, we had a name. A title we could put to the Retainer that had been haunting Aya¡¯s nightmares.


    Spellsong.


    ¡°Was it a brother? A friend? It¡¯s always the loss of ones you lessers care about that drive you to such anger. So he took someone from you, I¡¯m certain. But who, Spellsong?¡±


    ¡®I¡¯ stared into the burning orange eyes of the phoenix-blooded man, feeling disappointed as he withstood my goading. But apart from that, I felt my true mind whirl with the implications of this interaction. I felt myself thinking as I did back when I was King Grey, trying to dissect complex motives from simple interactions I witnessed.


    It seemed that the upper echelons of Alacryan society weren¡¯t nearly as united as they were made out to be. The hostility Uto was displaying toward both Cylrit and Spellsong spoke to a true, deeper division amidst the invaders.


    It was strange, thinking amidst foreign feelings. I couldn¡¯t exactly discern Uto¡¯s thought process, but I was feeling his emotions as they came through. I hung on to every word and dip in his mood. As this conversation went by, I found more and more questions building.


    ¡°Leave us, Uto, or I will be forced to remove you myself,¡± Cylrit said impassively from the side. ¡°Though we may be destined to work together in this war, you can be replaced if necessary.¡±


    ¡®I¡¯ turned to stare at Cylrit, and it was as if a lightbulb had gone off in my brain. Uto¡¯s emotions practically jumped with joy as he made some sort of connection, piecing a dozen scattered splinters into one cohesive whole.


    I felt a simultaneous mix of dread and anticipation as Uto seemed to realize exactly what he needed to say to trigger both the mages in front of me. ¡®I¡¯ straightened sharply, looming at my full height so I could look down on both Cylrit and Spellsong. The grin that stretched across ¡®my¡¯ face made me feel violated just from the sensation, sharpened teeth gnashing. My lips might as well have touched my ears.


    ¡°Ah, I understand now! It wasn¡¯t any sort of loss, was it!¡± I snapped my fingers. ¡°Spellsong here was always with pretty old Seris, wasn¡¯t he? Executing her plans?¡±


    And true to form, Cylrit raced to protect his master¡¯s name like a loyal hound. I felt Uto¡¯s contempt as his chin turned up, mana flaring in anger.


    ¡°Keep my master¡¯s name from your¨C¡±


    But ¡®I¡¯ wasn¡¯t done. ¡°It makes sense why she has two pretty men with her at all times now,¡± ¡®I¡¯ said against my own will. ¡°She always seemed like the kind to take two at once. I understand, though. I wouldn¡¯t mind tearing her dress off myself.¡±


    I felt a wave of secondhand disgust as the words were uttered with ¡®my¡¯ tongue. Simultaneously, I got the distinct impression Uto was imagining the situation he spoke of from the ravenous, disgusting glee I felt from him.


    Even without a body, I felt sick from the emotions he had. I found myself suddenly grateful I couldn¡¯t perfectly discern Uto¡¯s thoughts: just the bits and pieces horrified me deeply.


    He is a monster, I thought, feeling tainted anger from the secondhand slime of his emotions. His threats against Tess and Alea suddenly resurfaced in my mind, adding a darker tinge of anger and disgust to it all.


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    Cylrit stepped forward, his hand to the side as if to summon a weapon. His face was cast in thunder, but I knew he wasn¡¯t Uto¡¯s initial target this time. No, ¡®I¡¯ wanted to goad someone else.


    And from what I saw, the bait was successful. Though Spellsong¡¯s hand snapped to the side to hold back Cylrit from trying to punch ¡®me,¡¯ his mana flared with power, pulsing outward. I watched as runic feather stems appeared under the Asclepius Retainer¡¯s eyes, a dark red chain glowing over his arm. His eyes seemed to glow even brighter as they locked with mine.


    Is that¡­


    I thought, feeling a wave of anticipation entirely separate from Uto¡¯s, A Beast Will?


    I threw back my head, laughing as I held ¡®my¡¯ hands out to the side in invitation. ¡°Well, it looks like Seris¡¯ leashed pups rush to defend their master. Are you that desperate to defend the one you use to wet your¨C¡±


    ¡°I want you to think of this moment,¡± Spellsong said simply, his voice cool and tranquil as a summer lake. ¡°I want you to remember it, Retainer Uto.¡±


    I felt a chill run through me at the evenness of the man¡¯s words. The way he said it sounded too much like King Grey: passionless and empty. But as each syllable seemed to morph the air around him, I realized something well before Uto.


    No, I thought. If I could control my movements, I was sure I¡¯d be in a combat stance by now. No, this isn¡¯t like my mask of King Grey. This is something else.


    ¡°Speak up, brat,¡± Uto goaded, sauntering forward and locking eyes with Spellsong. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you.¡±


    Spellsong¡¯s lips settled into an easy smile. His combative stance relaxed. Where once he was poised like a hawk ready to strike at a snake, now he looked as leisurely as if he were on a morning stroll. And finally, Uto seemed to realize something was wrong.


    The ambient mana shifted strangely. I recognized it as King¡¯s Force¨Cbut it simultaneously wasn¡¯t. Spellsong radiated a paradoxical peace. A presence-defying calm that made the hair on Uto¡¯s arms stand on end. ¡®I¡¯ felt as Uto¡¯s victorious inner chant was suddenly dislodged.


    ¡°Remember this. When you¡¯re chained to a wall, alone in the rancid dark, I want you to feel an¡­ itch.¡±


    Those words, uttered softly and evenly as if he were talking to a child, caused Uto¡¯s emotions to slip. I myself felt taken aback. I¨Calongside Uto¨Cexpected a punch to be thrown. Maybe a few spells to detonate. But these words¡­


    ¡°What nonsense are you speaking about, Spellsong?¡± ¡®I¡¯ said. Uto felt something was dreadfully wrong. The hallway we were in seemed to compress, leaving only Spellsong and I alone. The way that he brushed away ¡®my¡¯ accusation¡­ it sent deep, deep shivers down my spine.


    The Asclepius man smiled softly. It almost looked like the kind of smile a mother reserved for their child, or maybe a teacher for their student. ¡°Remember the words you spoke to me when you¡¯re lashed to a wall like the animal you are, rotting in your own filth. I want you to go mad. It¡¯ll scrape against the inside of your mind in every single instant. Like an unscratchable itch on your back that you just. Can¡¯t. Reach.¡±


    Uto felt threatened. Like a wolf that was used to preying on beasts smaller than it, yet was suddenly faced with the insurmountable wall of another predator. He didn¡¯t want to acknowledge it; didn¡¯t want to think. But the quiet fear he suddenly felt at the surety of Spellsong¡¯s words made him recoil backward.


    ¡°I have no idea what nonsense you¡¯re talking about, lesser,¡± Uto snarled, my own lips uttering the words. ¡°But I think I¡¯ll take my time ripping you to¨C¡±


    The doors to the room in front of me¨Cmade of the same sort of metal Uto was fond of conjuring¨Cslammed open. At the forefront was Scythe Seri Vritra, her face a mask of quiet anger. Her clothing was similar to the last time I¡¯d seen her, and her pearlescent hair shimmered with contained power as her aura slammed into ¡®me.¡¯ Behind her, five other figures stood in shadow, each radiating enough strength to make my knees feel like jelly.


    I felt a rush of excitement at the same time the pit dropped out of Uto¡¯s stomach. The other Scythes, I thought with determination. I¡¯ll get to see them. If we know what they look like¨C


    Yet in that bare instant that Uto met Seris Vritra¡¯s eyes, I was torn from the vision. I found myself suddenly back on my bed, an umbral haze-like substance spilling out of the horn in my hand.


    Except it wasn¡¯t streaming through my mana veins. No, it was inching toward the acclorite Wren Kain had embedded in my palm.


    I dropped the horn, doing a cursory inspection of my mana core. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t any sort of noticeable change.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± I grumbled. I¡¯d wanted the mana from Uto¡¯s horn to be absorbed into my core. I was so, so close to the white core, and I felt that with the push from Uto¡¯s mana, I¡¯d make it far faster than otherwise.


    I let out a resigned sigh as I turned to Sylvie. Unsurprisingly, she was still busy absorbing her own horn. Outside, the sun was already coming up. I blinked in surprise. How long had I spent in Uto¡¯s memories?


    I pulled myself off the bed, trying to remember exactly everything that had happened in the memory. I pulled my clothes off¨Ceach bit stinking of sweat¨Cand made my way to the shower.


    I wanted to wash myself clean of last night¡¯s training, true, but what I really needed was to separate myself from Uto¡¯s filthy taint on my mind. I couldn¡¯t sense anything different, but there was something violating about experiencing the emotions from his disgusting fantasies secondhand.


    When I was all clean, I quickly threw on a loose tunic and trousers. I¡¯d spent the time getting ready categorizing everything I¡¯d seen in my mind. The questions I now had were even more than before, but at least a few had answers.


    It appeared that Spellsong and Cylrit were highly devoted to Seris Vritra. While I doubted they were what Uto accused them of, their reactions and closeness spoke to something more than just military assignments. Confidants of the Scythe, maybe?


    And considering what Spellsong had said to Uto about being chained in the dark¡­ he might very well have known of his Scythe¡¯s plans in advance. But if I were to take that at face value, that implied Seris had long ago designed plans to allow us to capture Uto and interrogate him.


    These thoughts and more swirled around in my mind as I plodded down the halls of Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. Normally, I¡¯d go straight to training with the elders, working on honing my aptitude in combat. But I¡¯d promised Virion I¡¯d keep him in the loop on anything regarding Scythe Seris and her strange actions in the future.


    It wasn¡¯t difficult to find Gramps. This early, the old man had taken to simply sitting by himself in one of the flying castle¡¯s many gardens, meditating in the peaceful ambiance.


    I understood why he did so. This war had visibly aged my old mentor, hardening and wearing him down simultaneously. We both needed our time to rest and recuperate.


    It was unfortunate I¡¯d have to interrupt Virion¡¯s reverie.


    ¡°Hey, Gramps,¡± I said jovially, plopping myself down next to the old elf where he meditated. ¡°Learning insight into the secrets of the universe? Achieving inner peace?¡±


    Virion cracked a single eye open, looking at me skeptically. ¡°Well, I was, brat,¡± he snarked. ¡°But then I was reminded that I¡¯ll have you to deal with as my eventual grandson. Then I realized it was pointless, considering all the trouble you cause me.¡±


    I laughed slightly, rubbing the back of my neck, but it was a forced thing. The old elf¨Cwhom I¡¯d known since my childhood in Elenoir¨Copened his other eye, looking at me seriously as he sensed the gravity of my arrival.


    ¡°As glad as I am to see you, Arthur,¡± he said, ¡°We both know you wouldn¡¯t take time out of your day to see your grandpa-to-be when we¡¯re both so busy. What happened?¡±


    I ran my tongue over my lips, thinking of what to say. I didn¡¯t want to stress the old elf any more than he already was, but if there was anyone who might be able to pick this apart, it was this man.


    And so I gradually told him the entire story of the vision I¡¯d experienced. Virion listened quietly, his sharp brows pinching in a way that made every wrinkle seem as deep as a Darvish chasm. When I finally finished my recollection, there was silence in the small glade as he processed the words.


    ¡°I think we can safely assume that this ¡®Seris Vritra¡¯ had planned for Uto to come into our possession for a time before he whooped your ass in that field,¡± Virion eventually said, mirroring my thoughts on the matter. ¡°And that she told the Asclepius, at the very least. I¡¯ll say that Retainer Uto¡¯s cell is very dark, very cold, and he is very much lashed to a wall.¡±


    I snorted, the thought of Uto chained to a wall somewhat comforting.


    ¡°But this begs more questions,¡± Virion said again, shifting so he was facing me fully. ¡°Does this mean Seris Vritra only spared you from Uto to remove an enemy without repercussions, while allowing a reasonable measure of doubt? From what the bastard said, I could understand why she would do so.¡±


    I slowly shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s exactly why. Maybe part of it, true, but she didn¡¯t need to keep me alive, either. She could have simply finished off both Uto and me, then let whoever found the aftermath assume Uto and I had killed each other. No, her motives are more complex.¡±


    ¡°And this other mage¨CSpellsong, was it?¡± Virion rolled the name around on his tongue. ¡°His actions align rather neatly with Seris in a way I can¡¯t explain. Reports came in that he personally freed the captives from that slave market you uncovered. And if Seris really is on our side, it appears she¡¯s playing a game neither of us truly knows.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth, standing up as I ran a hand through my hair. I felt agitated: I hadn¡¯t slept last night, and I was tired of my enemy constantly knowing more than I did. I kicked a rock, sending it flying into a tree with the force of a bullet.


    ¡°We just don¡¯t know,¡± I sighed in agreement. We didn¡¯t know what Seris wanted. What Spellsong wanted. Where Aldir was, or even if Lance Olfred was still alive. We were in the dark. ¡°Nothing we know seems to help us in this war, and our asuran allies seem happy to leave us out to dry now, too.¡±


    Virion¡¯s face was carefully controlled. ¡°We have a place to start from now, Arthur,¡± he said seriously. ¡°It appears that our enemy isn¡¯t nearly as cohesive as we once thought. That opens up strategies for us to exploit. Furthermore, that Scythe seems to be content to wait out in Darv with Spellsong rather than making any overt moves. I¡¯d count that as a good thing.¡±


    I plopped down heavily on the grass, groaning as the stress built. ¡°Way to be optimistic, Gramps,¡± I said lamely.


    Virion ruffled my hair. ¡°That¡¯s my job, brat,¡± he said, though there was a bitter edge to his voice. ¡°Now, what do you say to getting a whole lot of our questions answered?¡±


    I raised a brow as I looked at Virion. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, feeling confused.


    The old elf stood, stretching out his back in an exaggerated way and sighing with relief as it cracked. ¡°Remind me never to sit in one position too long,¡± he commented. ¡°My legs fall asleep far faster than they used to. But anyways,¡± he said, looking at me seriously, ¡°When I said that Uto¡¯s cell was dark, cold, and he was very much lashed to a wall, I meant that seriously. This past week, we¡¯ve had torturers in the castle trying to work on him, but all he¡¯s done is scream and spit and thrash. We¡¯ve gotten no useful information from him.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, orienting more fully on my first teacher in this world.


    ¡°At first, we thought that you must have driven him mad by breaking his horns. Perhaps the mana feedback did something to his mind to leave him so unstable. But with your vision, it makes more sense, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    I felt a sinister smirk stretch across my face as I realized what the old elf was thinking. ¡°I think I see exactly what you¡¯re planning,¡± I said, standing up once more as anticipation and deadly satisfaction thrummed across my veins. ¡°And I¡¯m more than happy to help.¡±


    ¡ª


    An hour or so later, I was walking through the shrouded layers of Dicathen¡¯s dungeons. On this deepest level, I wasn¡¯t restricted in my use of mana.


    Uto¡¯s cell door loomed not far away, a caustic, rabid aura radiating from it.


    ¡°The prisoner hasn¡¯t been able to say a single coherent word to me,¡± the torturer, a weasely man named Gentry, said with a scoff. ¡°He seems well and truly mad to me, Commander. With all due respect, I don¡¯t know what could be done to get him to speak!¡±


    Virion sniffed in distaste at the tools of torture arrayed around us. ¡°Trust me on this one, Gentry,¡± he said, looking at me with a gleam in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll have what you need soon enough.¡±


    With a nod toward Virion, I stepped toward the cell. I reached my hand out, opening the door wide.


    Within the confines of my mind, Uto had left a deep, deadly impression. Throughout my entire battle with the Retainer, Sylvie and I together hadn¡¯t managed to land a single, meaningful hit. I was used to feeling powerful, but that clash left me feeling markedly weak.


    In my nightmares, Uto was a tall, lanky shadow that came straight from a demon¡¯s twisted mind. His imposing figure, like a sickly tree that had been left to rot in the elements, had earned its place among the deadliest of my enemies.


    But when I saw the Retainer in his cell, I found that mental image clashing with the broken thing in front of me. Uto¡¯s wrists were raw from how they¡¯d rubbed against his shackles, and his greasy hair stuck to his face. More than a few of his fingernails had been pulled.


    When I entered his sight, the Retainer hissed like a rabid animal, showing a row of teeth sharpened into points.


    ¡°Hello, Uto,¡± I said casually, crossing my arms as I made a show of looking him up and down. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve felt better.¡±


    The reaction was immediate. Uto¡¯s nostrils flared, his pinprick eyes blowing wide.


    ¡°You¡¯ve come to mock me!¡± he yelled scratchily, his voice pitiful and whining. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, isn¡¯t it, pup! To watch me beg and cower like you lessers!¡±


    I felt a smile tug at the edges of my lips. Already he was beginning to speak. That was more than Gentry had ever managed, and just from my presence.


    Uto began to spit profanities at me, vowing to all of his Vritra exactly what he was going to do to me when he got out. What he was going to do to my family, to Tess¡­


    I felt my eyes narrow at that. ¡°How¡¯s that itch?¡± I asked. As I said it, I did my best to emulate Spellsong¡¯s tone. I wanted that strange, peaceful inflection he¡¯d managed to imbue into his words.


    But while I didn¡¯t achieve the magical equivalent, I had no doubt it was close enough. Uto¡¯s mouth shut immediately as he cringed away.


    ¡°Spellsong knew all along what would happen to you,¡± I said with an unfamiliar coolness, walking forward with a leisurely gait. ¡°I wonder why that is, huh? If you hadn¡¯t said such interesting words about Scythe Seris, do you think you¡¯d still be here, in this cell¡­¡± The next words I said were uttered with pinpoint precision. ¡°Chained to a wall, alone in the rancid dark?¡±


    Uto had gone stock still as I looked at him, gauging his reaction. His head bowed weakly toward his chest, seemingly in submission.


    Then he slammed his head back against the stone walls. There was a crack as his skull hit the stones, and he laughed maniacally at the thudding sound. He lowered his head, then prepared to try again.


    I blurred forward, unwilling to let the Retainer kill himself. I snatched his jaw in my hand, holding it tight. ¡°You don¡¯t get to kill yourself today, Uto,¡± I snarled, savoring the madness I saw in his eyes. ¡°I have some questions for you, and you are going to answer them.¡±

 Chapter 193: The Heart Versus the Mind

    Seris Vritra


    My mana flowed through the tempus warp, following the dips and paths arrayed before it as the portal slowly activated. Gradually, a mirror-like pane of purple fizzed into existence nearby, humming audibly with a familiar sound.


    I felt an irritating knot of anticipation in my chest as I watched the portal, knowing who was on the other side. I¡¯d resolved myself to draw firm lines between us and finally reassert my status as Scythe. I had more things I needed to discuss with the man, of course, but at the forefront of my mind were the ways I allowed the man to speak and act flippantly around me.


    After a week of contemplation and introspection regarding my failure to control myself, I¡¯d come to the conclusion that the liberties I allowed Lord Daen¨Cirrational as they were¨Ccouldn¡¯t be allowed to continue as they had. They were a detriment, making my thoughts and processes flighty and unpredictable.


    I had long ago noticed that my tongue and intent became looser around the young man. I had not fully appreciated the implications of this until Olfred¡¯s release from his artifact.


    Toren stepped through the portal a bare moment later, breaking me from my thoughts. I opened my mouth, ready to command the man, then was forced to raise a brow as I saw his¡­ companion.


    ¡°Lord Daen,¡± I said seriously, looking at the captive elf he hauled behind him. The elf looked back with stormy gray eyes blown wide, trembling as they saw me, then breaking down into something more primal as they saw my horns. ¡°Explain to me why you have brought back a captive.¡±


    Toren blinked as he focused on me, his mouth turning into a small ¡®o¡¯ as he seemed to see me for the first time. The young man worked his jaw, visibly contemplating what to say. But the demanding way I raised my brow finally compelled him to speak.


    ¡°I spared this one from a squadron of soldiers who were taking turns torturing him,¡± Toren said with a sigh. ¡°The Bastards Victorious, if you know them. I managed to piece together that this elf has a position that would make him far more valuable as a hostage than as a tortured prisoner, though, so I opted to bring him here.¡±


    Said prisoner was trembling at Toren¡¯s feet, keeping their attention toward the ground.


    ¡°I see,¡± I said slowly. ¡°And you did not take this man away from his tormentors simply because of the treatment itself?¡±


    Toren stiffened slightly, his mouth turning into a frown. Knowing the young man, that reaction confirmed my suspicions exactly.


    ¡°This is Albold Chaffer,¡± Toren said, gesturing to the kneeling elf. ¡°He is the scion of an important military house with close connections to the Eraliths, with ties to Commander Virion Eralith himself.¡±


    I strolled over, inspecting the captive closely. His hands were broken, and I saw several bruising marks around his throat. The elf slammed his eyes shut as I inspected him.


    ¡°Make what arrangements you need for the hostage,¡± I finally said into the grim silence. ¡°He shall be your responsibility. Am I clear?¡±


    Toren nodded sharply, a current of relief flashing in his eyes. He masked it just as quickly. He began to pull the elf back to his feet, brushing the young Chaffer¡¯s tunic free of dust.


    But that only addressed one issue.


    ¡°And when you are done,¡± I continued, ¡°You are to meet me in my personal chambers immediately. We have matters to discuss, and you will ensure you will be free for however long I need you,¡± I said, the words feeling uncomfortable and alien on my tongue.


    Toren¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and his movement became a bit mechanical as he turned to look up at me, his expression skeptical. Belatedly, I realized the potential implications of my words.


    My face fell into a frown as I fought down my irritation. Were I performing at my optimal abilities, such a simple slipup would have never happened. I had teased Toren intentionally at first. It served as a simple but effective route to keeping him off-balance, but now foolish words fell from my tongue without conscious thought.


    ¡°Understood,¡± Toren said, his voice sounding somewhere between wary and amused as he started to move. ¡°I¡¯ll put Albold under Lusul¡¯s protection and guard, then heal his wounds the best I can. It shouldn¡¯t take long.¡±


    I watched Toren go, feeling a strange sort of dread pooling in my stomach.


    ¡ª


    I sipped at my tea as I lounged in a high-back chair. I¡¯d settled into my small suite in the new cavern with ease after my divisions had been forced to evacuate the previous one.


    My eyes trailed the ridges of stone far across from my little tea table. I felt a sobering understanding wash through me as I stared at those empty walls.


    Temporary, I thought. Nothing here is designed to last. It¡¯s all made with the intent of eventual abandonment.


    I found myself thinking of my offices in Bloodstone Elixirs. I¡¯d gone out of my way to find art pieces depicting scenes of battle and carnage, arraying them all across the room.


    Those acted as a constant reminder. No matter what I was doing, the looming actions of Agrona and his clan announced themselves with every flicker of the eye.


    But these barren walls? So deep in the earth, without the kiss of the wind to remind me there were things beyond my little hovel, it was easy to forget the bigger picture at play.


    Perhaps that is why Toren has found his way so close to you, I thought, setting my teacup down with a click. You allow yourself to get caught up in the moment, Seris.


    And without Cylrit¡¯s presence, it was harder to remember who I was. What I was.


    As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard a knock at my door. I set down my teacup, steeling myself for what was to come. ¡°You are free to enter,¡± I said aloud.


    I watched Toren as he entered the room, closing the door gingerly behind him. Despite myself, I found my eyes tracking over his body. After returning from the Beast Glades, his clothes had been in a general state of disarray, dirty, and tattered. But now, he was clearly wearing fresh attire. His hair had been washed and dried recently, and he¡¯d tied it back into a tail rather than the half-up, half-down style he¡¯d been wearing more lately.


    He turned back to me, standing uncertainly near the door. His eyes¨Ceach like simmering coals¨Ctracked to the tea in my hands. ¡°Your tea is going cold,¡± he said, sounding almost remorseful.


    I found myself chuckling lightly, amused by his comment. I took a liberal sip of the cooling drink, then set it down on the tea table in front of me. The liquid inside wasn¡¯t my favored blend of Redwater leaves, unfortunately, but I¡¯d enjoyed it nonetheless.


    ¡°It is no matter,¡± I said, gesturing my hand toward the seat across from me. ¡°Tell me, Lord Daen. How fares your hostage?¡±


    I would have to personally investigate Toren¡¯s claims of this elf¡¯s connection to Commander Virion at a later date. If he was, I potentially had a direct route to influence the Council if I so wished. The options that Toren¡¯s captive opened up were as vast as the dangers he brought, too.


    Toren moved over to the chair opposite me, sitting down in it with a contented sigh. ¡°Lusul was surprised to be saddled with a hostage to watch over,¡± he said, adjusting himself in the chair to be more comfortable. ¡°But he didn¡¯t object. I ordered him strictly to treat Albold with respect. The elf is going to be under twenty-four seven watch henceforth, but you don¡¯t exactly have humane prisons here,¡± he sighed. ¡°Olfred owes me a favor. I¡¯m thinking of asking him to make a comfortable but secure bunker of earth as a more permanent solution. I¡¯ll need to see how he¡¯s faring, too.¡±


    I crossed my hands over my lap, feeling contemplative as I sat in this room with Toren. I¡¯d chosen him to be the connective tissue between Darv and Alacrya, and already that decision had borne unexpected fruit in the case of Olfred Warend. By saving Lance Olfred, Toren had inadvertently positioned we Alacryans as liberators to the dwarven rebellion.


    Not just conquerors. Liberators.


    Without Toren¡¯s influence, perhaps I would have simply waited out this war, doing the bare minimum to see it won. Agrona no doubt had his plans in place beyond my own understanding to see Dicathen fall on his terms. But with these shifting tides of war, I recognized I could do something else.


    If Darv fell on my terms instead of Agrona¡¯s, then I would have far more influence over the continent in the aftermath of the war. I¡¯d be able to push the politics and figures of Dicathen with far more precision. The dwarven rebellion already had a far stronger leg to stand on in Lance Olfred, and it was all because of Toren.


    ¡°On the topic of Lance Balrog,¡± I said, drawing the young mage¡¯s intent gaze to me, ¡°Your actions a week ago in freeing Olfred Warend from his chains have served to be¡­ invaluable to me and my goals.¡± I raised a single hand to my chin, holding it as I stared intently at the strawberry-blonde striker with narrowed eyes. ¡°It is common protocol to offer rewards for such brilliant service, and this time is no different. So tell me, Toren Daen,¡± I slowly crossed my legs, watching as his gaze was drawn to the shifting of my long, dark dress. His eyes stayed there as if caught by a spell. ¡°What do you wish for a reward?¡±


    Toren blinked in surprise, clearly not having expected my words. His eyes snapped away from my legs, focusing on my dark pupils once more. Then they narrowed in confusion and annoyance. ¡±Pardon me, Seris,¡± he said slowly, ¡°But I don¡¯t understand why I was punished for the same action, and now am being asked to choose a reward a week later.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°It is also military protocol, Lord Daen,¡± I deflected. ¡°While your actions were ultimately beneficial, they were without authorization or clearance. Were I to allow you off without even a slap on the wrist, it would disrupt the strict military discipline we all must maintain in war,¡± I said. And my words were even partly true.


    Toren, however, didn¡¯t seem to fully believe me. His lips pursed, and his face took on an expression I couldn¡¯t decipher. Sadness? Irritation?


    ¡°For a reward,¡± he said slowly, standing up and turning away. He seemed to deeply consider my words, pacing slightly as he thought of what to ask for. ¡°Hmmm¡­¡±


    I inadvertently tapped my finger against my leather armrest in a steady rhythm as I allowed the young man to think. That was something everyone¨Cno matter their race, station, or power¨Cshould be allowed to do whenever they needed. To think things through.


    Eventually, though, Toren¡¯s walk slowed. A strange sort of look crossed his face as he flourished his hand. In an instant, an item appeared from his dimension ring.


    The puzzle I had selected for him¨Ca rugged steel dodecahedron, stamped with a branded glyph of flame¨Csettled there comfortably. Toren turned to me, hefting the fist-sized puzzle. ¡°I think I need more time to think of a real reward,¡± he said, holding the puzzle in his hands, ¡°But in the meantime, I¡¯d like to ask something of you.¡±


    I found my eyes inadvertently drawn to the puzzle in his hands, a strange sort of longing simmering in my stomach. ¡°And what might that be, Lord Daen?¡± I asked primly, not voicing an ounce of my inner emotions.


    Toren rolled the puzzle through his fingers. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to be finished with this one soon,¡± he said with a smirk, tossing it up and catching it with his telekinetic spellform. ¡°I was wondering if you could point me toward whoever made it in the first place. I¡¯ve really, really enjoyed this one and the way it has challenged me.¡±


    I frowned slightly, leaning forward as the puzzle drifted back down toward Toren¡¯s hand. ¡°It looks far from solved to me,¡± I countered, a touch of pride entering my voice as I stared into his eyes. From what the dwarven artificer had told me, the fire glyph at the center would light up, announcing one¡¯s victory over this mental challenge. Yet not a single stretch of the glyph was illuminated. ¡°You will have to pull a far better ruse to convince me of your supposed ¡®puzzle prowess.¡¯¡±


    Toren snorted in amusement, his eyes flashing as he moved back toward his seat. I stared at him in challenge as I lounged in my chair like one of Dicathen¡¯s queens, daring him to prove his words.


    ¡°Okay, Seris,¡± he said with a wry smirk. ¡°How often is the Scythe of Sehz-Clar proven wrong?¡±


    I turned up my chin, feeling the edges of my lips threaten to curl up. ¡°Very, very rarely,¡± I said. Though almost always regarding you. ¡°Do you think yourself so mighty to change that statistic?¡±


    ¡°Not mighty,¡± Toren said, tapping a finger against his temple. ¡°Just methodical.¡± He beckoned me forward with a hand as he held out the little dodecahedron over the tea table. ¡°Watch. You¡¯ll see what I mean.¡±


    I leaned forward in my seat, uncrossing my legs as I tried to get a better look. I felt anticipation well up from deep within as the little steel puzzle held my fullest attention.


    I felt a bare fluctuation of energy as mana flowed from Toren¡¯s hand, seeping into the steel construction. I watched intently as parts of the glyph began to light up under the effect of Lord Daen¡¯s mana.


    ¡°All you need is a little fire mana,¡± Toren said. The words caressed my ears like a summer breeze, making me relax slightly. ¡°And then you can work it through.¡±


    I watched, entranced, as parts of the fire glyph flickered on and off in strange patterns. Gradually, even despite the flashing, I watched as the small glyph of flame grew closer and closer to activation. Inch by inch, the engraved crevices crept toward completion.


    My breath grew shorter as I began to feel that anticipatory high. The rush of adrenaline and spike of triumph that came to me whenever I completed a puzzle. It was so, so close¡­


    And then Toren sighed. I blinked, the moment shattered like a rock thrown into a still pond. I looked up from the puzzle, feeling a strange sort of irritation in my gut. Why did he stop?


    And I met Toren¡¯s eyes. His eyebrows had nearly reached his hairline, a wry, knowing smile splitting his face. ¡°Am I to assume the enigmatic, cold Scythe of Sehz-Clar adores puzzles? Considering how you nearly fell off your seat¡­¡±


    Belatedly, I realized how much I¡¯d moved. Where before I¡¯d allowed my own tall chair to nearly swallow me, lounging on it as if it were a throne, now I was barely sitting on the edge. I¡¯d somehow shifted all the way to the end, putting me not two feet from Toren.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I furrowed my brow, my lips pursing as I glared at the young man. ¡°You are teasing me,¡± I accused. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be.¡±


    Toren chuckled, and I felt a comfortable warmth settle in my stomach as he did so. My hard mask melted slightly, and I found myself smiling as I stared down at the almost completed puzzle.


    ¡°Will you not finish it?¡± I finally asked, feeling uncharacteristically impatient. ¡°I do wish to see the end of this journey, Toren.¡±


    Toren sighed, his fingers wrapping the dodecahedron slightly as he pulled it away. ¡°I¡¯m a bit stuck on the last part, I¡¯ll admit,¡± he said sheepishly. ¡°My method for solving this puzzle is very methodical, and it''s worked well so far. But I¡¯ve hit a bit of a snag near the finish line.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said, putting a single finger to my lips as Toren¡¯s words registered. ¡°You work with a more logic-based system, you say?¡±


    Toren nodded. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll figure it out soon, Seris. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    I looked at the puzzle, feeling a bit forlorn despite the atmosphere. ¡°It is a shame that I do not have an affinity for fire mana,¡± I lamented. ¡°Else I would have attempted to solve this puzzle on my own. But without those prerequisites, it is impossible for me to actually do so.¡±


    The little puzzle I¡¯d bought Toren was partially because I couldn¡¯t complete such a thing myself. Though I quietly chafed at the idea that there were some challenges I¡¯d never be able to attempt, it was a good second-best to watch someone else achieve such heights themselves.


    And he is really close, I thought, feeling a bit of my good mood return. I suppose I will have to find another puzzle for him to conquer then, won¡¯t I? One that is more difficult than this.


    ¡°You could do this puzzle,¡± Toren said, startling me out of my thoughts. He had a contemplative, almost scheming look on his face as he stared at me. ¡°It¡¯s not as impossible as you think.¡±


    I raised another brow. ¡°Perhaps you have proven me in error once today, Toren, but I do not think it will happen twice. It is statistically improbable that I should suddenly develop a fire affinity. Or be wrong.¡±


    Toren waved a hand, beckoning me forward again. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a good thing you won¡¯t need any of those to complete this contraption. Because while you need fire mana to activate it, it''s fundamentally not a mana puzzle. It¡¯s a logic puzzle.¡±


    Toren held his hand out, the small, fist-sized construct of metal gleaming in the low light. ¡°All you need is someone to imbue each of the initial twenty-four sections with fire mana, note down their individual effects, and then activate them all in the correct sequence. Really, the fire affinity is only needed for activation.¡±


    I stared at the offered challenge, feeling a traitorous competitive urge that made my fingers twitch. Toren¡¯s eyes quietly compelled me to join him in this little game. To give it my best try.


    He really does think he¡¯ll stump me with this, doesn¡¯t he?


    I thought, feeling a predatory grin stretch across my face as I laid my hands over Toren¡¯s, the cool steel of the dwarven puzzle contrasting with the steady warmth of Lord Daen¡¯s palms. Foolish. So very foolish.


    Toren¡¯s wry smirk contrasted mine as I laid my hands over his. ¡°I¡¯m going to activate each of the modules within, announcing them as one through twenty-four,¡± he said succinctly. ¡°Now, you can write down the effects you observe¨C¡±


    I sniffed, interrupting Toren¡¯s words. ¡°My memory will be sufficient, Toren,¡± I countered. ¡°Now begin. Your Scythe commands it.¡±


    Toren rolled his eyes, but it was a playful gesture. ¡°One,¡± he said. Fire mana flowed from his hands, interweaving with my fingers before streaming into the relic. I watched intently as two segments of the fire glyph lit up, and another seemed to darken further, even without any light.


    Toren then did something to flush the artifact of mana, resetting it to its blank state. Throughout it all, I kept my focus like iron as I stared at the glyph, intent on memorizing each flicker and flare.


    ¡°Two,¡± he continued. This time, only one segment glowed, and none went dark.


    This went on for a few minutes as Toren activated the entire array of modules, their effects appearing before me and emblazoning themselves in my mind. By the time we were done, that smile of mine had widened already. In my head, I was going over a dozen patterns at a time, trying to find a concrete way to push this puzzle forward.


    Logic puzzle indeed, I acknowledged. It should be quite simple.


    ¡°What has you so excited?¡± Toren said. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve got some devious plans brewing in that skull of yours.¡±


    His jovial voice soothed aches in my muscles that I didn¡¯t even know existed. I found myself simultaneously relaxing even as I stared at the puzzle as if my gaze could weather it to dust. ¡°Quiet,¡± I rebuked softly. ¡°Now is the time for thinking, not talking. I must concentrate fully on this.¡±


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Toren said, his fingers brushing my own. ¡±Have at it, my dear Scythe.¡±


    ¡°Five,¡± I said to start. Toren complied, activating the fifth module. ¡°Thirteen,¡± I said next.


    We continued like this for a while as the minutes ticked by, his warm hands cupping mine as I methodically went through numbers. But even as I slowly began to set a rhythm for lighting up the artifact, I noticed another pattern.


    Beneath my hands, Toren¡¯s heartbeat was steady and strong. But it would change the barest bit whenever I called out: a ten here and a nineteen here. But on certain calls, the reaction was far more substantial. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As fascinating as this little craft in our hands is, I realized, It is far from the most intriguing one I have to solve.


    Almost without realizing it, I began to call out modules at random, ignoring the pattern I¡¯d been intuitively piecing together so far. I felt like a korfox catching the scent of a riftrat as I chased Toren¡¯s heartbeat. His fingers would clench ever-so-slightly depending on the words I said. His breathing would stall for the barest moment. His eyes would dance as they observed the relic, telling me more than any pattern within ever could.


    Yes, Toren knew the sequence to complete this puzzle. I didn¡¯t need to figure out the puzzle. I just needed to figure out what he knew.


    I did not know when it happened, but I eventually found myself focusing on the young mage instead of the dwarven artifact between our fingers. I absorbed his every inflection. Each shift of his pulse; each minute change of his brows. I voiced numbers in tune with Lord Daen¡¯s masked knowledge, following a trail I didn¡¯t understand, but simultaneously knew.


    And finally, Toren raised his intent gaze from the puzzle, meeting my eyes. The smile on my face was knowing as I looked at him with quiet triumph.


    His fingers squeezed my own for a heartbeat, and my hand squeezed his back. We¡¯d somehow moved closer, our faces barely a foot away. I found my eyes tracing the contours of Toren¡¯s lips, that heat in my body growing more and more.


    ¡°You managed that far faster than I ever did,¡± Toren said, sounding impressed. ¡°But it appears we¡¯re both stumped on this part, huh?¡±


    Belatedly, I realized the burnished steel dodecahedron between our palms had reached the same point of conclusion Toren had shown earlier. About ninety percent of the glyph was awash with light, just barely off from completion.


    But of course, it wasn¡¯t yet done. After all, I hadn¡¯t truly understood the logistics behind it: I¡¯d simply deciphered Toren¡¯s anticipation and knowledge of the puzzle, using that to push it just to that exact edge.


    But he didn¡¯t need to know that.


    ¡°I am not stumped,¡± I said smoothly. ¡°I have merely proven that your earlier feats aren¡¯t nearly as noteworthy as you liked to pretend. After all, I was able to achieve the same in a matter of minutes, wasn¡¯t I?¡± I tilted up my chin so that it appeared I was staring down at the young mage. It brought us just a little closer. ¡°You should be more humble, Lord Daen.¡±


    Toren leaned forward slightly, his eyes flashing. ¡°Except you don¡¯t know anything about this puzzle, either, do you? I think you should learn some humility.¡±


    ¡°You are arrogant to assume what I¡¯m thinking,¡± I countered, leaning forward as well as the moment pulled me closer. I tried to think of something witty to say to really put him in his place, but I decided that that wasn¡¯t really necessary right now. I could say something later. The puzzle slipped from our hands, bouncing against the tea table before clinking to the floor. I ignored it as my eyes drifted closed.


    We leaned closer; so much closer. I could almost¨C


    Yet I was torn from my reverie as, instead of his soft lips on mine, I felt Toren¡¯s forehead nuzzle against my own. My eyes snapped open. I felt suddenly confused, feeling a strange sense of rejection and loss as the moment simmered away.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said after a moment, his words seeming to slow. ¡°You told me once that I tore away your masks. That I hurt you by doing this. And I can¡­ sense that it isn¡¯t what you want.¡±


    And suddenly, all the passion that had been building was doused by a torrent of uncertainty. I¡¯d called this meeting to put a stop to this irritating itch in my chest. So that I could take solace in my thoughts again, without unpredictable emotions and long-buried worries getting in the way.


    So I could prevent someone from peeling me away, the same way Sovereign Orlaeth had.


    Toren seemed to sense my shift in emotions, because of course he did. He couldn¡¯t even let me plan in peace. His hands started to retreat from where they clasped mine, his body inching away.


    But I would not allow him to flee. My hands clenched around his, denying him the ability to leave. Mana thrummed through my muscles as I inadvertently clung to his hands.


    ¡°This is purposeful,¡± I said, my voice shaking with growing fury. The smile had fallen from my face as I fully embraced the Scythe. ¡°Do you know what you¡¯re doing? Do you understand everything you rip from me?¡±


    I noticed that my fingernails had carved deep divots into Toren¡¯s hands, my claws nearly touching bone. Blood streamed from his skin in slow rivulets, dripping into my teacup right beneath us. I felt the urge to grip harder and crush his bones like the fragile twigs they were.


    Toren¡¯s hands held mine, even as I wounded him. He looked at me, those terribly soulful eyes taking all of me in. I knew he was reading my emotions, strained as they were.


    I gripped his hands harder, feeling the bones creak.


    ¡°You¡¯re human, Seris,¡± he said slowly. ¡°You¡¯re not a machine. It¡­ wasn¡¯t my intention to do so, but you can¡¯t remain rigid forever. You¡¯ll break before you bend.¡±


    ¡°You are basilisk in lesser flesh,¡± a condescending voice uttered in the recesses of my memories. Flashes of sterile, white labs. The stench of chemicals and experiments. ¡°So very strange. So very unique.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not human,¡± I hissed, feeling rising, bitter hatred as I stared at the man in front of me. ¡°I am a Scythe, Toren Daen. Human? I never thought you viewed me as something so weak,¡± I snarled, my fingers scraping at bone as they carved deeper. His flesh broke and tore with a spray of blood.


    The young man barely reacted to how I marked him. Even as his blood flowed in streams to the tea table beneath, he didn¡¯t flinch, only worked his jaw. It made me even more angry. I felt those rippling scales; the unholy song of my blood as it demanded I snuff out his heartbeat.


    ¡°If being human is such a sign of weakness, then why me?¡± Toren finally asked, tilting his head inquisitively. The way he said it: not judgemental, not harsh, simply curious, was like a knife deep in my gut. ¡°I don¡¯t know everything, Seris, but I know I¡¯m here because I¡¯m human.¡±


    I felt my fury grow even further at this. A snarl built in my throat, but against my will, the press of my fingers into the bones of Toren¡¯s hands ceased.


    Because we both knew the answer to that question. I¡¯d answered it long ago, in that clinic in East Fiachra. I¡¯d given it in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion. We sat in silence for a long time, my hands holding Toren¡¯s fast. His heartbeat was slow in his blood.


    ¡°Since you claim to be such an authority onwhat makes people human,¡± I bit out sourly, ¡°What am I feeling, Toren?¡± I finally asked, knowing the answer but unable to voice it.


    Toren looked at me, his eyes unfocusing as he no doubt honed in on that empathic sense of his. Then he finally pulled his hand from mine, and I wondered if he would finally leave me in peace. Yet instead of pulling himself away, Toren gingerly held my hand in his own, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the back of my palm gently, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling away.


    ¡°That¡¯s human, too,¡± he said slowly, his expression falling as he no doubt pieced apart what raged in my head. ¡°It¡¯s the most human thing, I think. Fear is what drives us all, in some form or another.¡±


    And that was the difference, wasn¡¯t it? Toren thought me human, not basilisk. Even as I felt the call of that asuran song, Toren still thought me human. The very thing I¡¯d arranged this meeting to decay away.


    For that? I supposed he was a tragic fool.


    And finally, my breathing began to even out. My heartbeat slowed, and my thoughts focused. I had gone too far; lived too long with surprises. Even now, I found my equilibrium. The impulses of my darker side were carefully covered.


    But Toren didn¡¯t understand. How could I make him?


    The answer slithered into my mind as if whispered by the wind.


    ¡°I suppose fear is what motivates all lessers,¡± I said slowly, staring up at the ceiling. ¡°The fear of being hunted. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the dark. Fear of each other.¡±


    A silence grew between us, thick and viscous like sap. ¡°You don¡¯t fear me,¡± Toren replied quietly. ¡°That isn¡¯t why you¡¯re afraid.¡±


    ¡°So astute, Toren,¡± I mocked, still staring intently at the ceiling. ¡°So what do you think I fear?¡±


    Toren shifted uncomfortably. He made to withdraw his hand back from where he¡¯d kissed it, but I stalled him by laying mine atop his bleeding skin like a serpent¡¯s jaws snapping shut. I could feel his pulse begin to pick up.


    Yes, that was what I was looking for.


    ¡°I can¡¯t read your thoughts, Seris,¡± he said, seeming uncertain for the first time. ¡°Only emotions.¡±


    ¡°Humor me, then. What do you think drives me? What lesser fear captivates my psyche? You¡¯ve come this far already with your little insights. Why not go a little further?¡± I prodded, my mana flaring.


    Toren shifted slightly, uncomfortable. Good. He¡¯d remained stoic for too long, and it seemed I¡¯d finally pieced apart what made him nervous.


    ¡°I think you fear destruction,¡± he finally answered. ¡°I think you fear the collapse of all you know.¡±


    I sighed in disappointment, affecting a mocking tone. ¡°Please. That¡¯s too simple, and I know you better than that. Don¡¯t disappoint me again with lesser mundanities. One more chance.¡±


    The seconds ticked by as the young man worked his jaw. His red blood seeped beneath my hand as I kept him pinned like a spider binds a fly. The gallows awaited Toren for what he¡¯d learned. I could almost hear the tightening of the noose as it slowly cinched around his throat.


    And I could see it there, slotting into place deep in his soul.


    The young fire mage knew me well; knew me better than nearly any other. The worth of our time together was infinitely greater than the sum of its parts. And with this taste of my inner soul, I had no doubt he understood.


    ¡°Give me my answer, Toren,¡± I demanded again, this time with grim finality. My aura flowed, perfectly under control as the waves of my power washed over him. They didn¡¯t slam into the mage like hurricane winds. No, they coasted over his skin like poisonous mist atop a morning lake, each brush threatening death. Like snakes slowly rising up his arms as their fangs glistened with venom. He gritted his teeth, his body trembling. ¡°I think you can piece it together, hmmm?¡±


    I forced my eyes to bore holes into the young mage as I savored his discomfort like fine wine. Such a unique vintage of guilt he was feeling, too. I even made an effort to press my emotions into the air. Every flavor of them I knew would drive knives deeper into his petty little mind.


    And finally, he opened his mouth, uttering the dread truth. ¡°You¡¯re terrified of yourself.¡±


    My aura drifted away like fog before sunlight. Toren gnashed his teeth, looking away from me as he visibly tensed with guilt. I imagined it was far from a pleasant thing, reading those emotions of mine. I arranged them intentionally, after all. It didn¡¯t really matter that he said the words, either: just that he understood everything around them.


    He claimed he felt guilt for tearing away my masks, so what better way to punish him than to force him to rip them away? Force him to watch something he would rather avert his eyes to? Especially with his hatred of the High Sovereign and mind arts, I imagined such things were especially potent.


    So ironic, I thought, watching Toren as he stared at the ground. To break an empath, one just needs to understand them, too. He¡¯ll never dare peel apart my protections now. I suppose Orlaeth¡¯s methods do have merit in the rarest circumstances.


    My thoughts caught on that statement. The coiling darkness of my blood laughed as I recognized the depths of my actions. And despite my wishes, I felt the guilt and shame at what I had just done settle like bile atop the pond of my thoughts.


    I opened my mouth, closed it, then turned away. My earlier sense of triumph drifted away as I methodically suppressed the song of my Vritra lineage.


    ¡°Leave me, Toren,¡± I ordered, inspecting a painting on the wall.


    He got up without a word, walking like a ghost to the door. When he left, I inspected my bloodstained hands, feeling that very named fear rise again in all its power.

 Chapter 194: Fermenting Uprising

    Toren Daen


    I left Seris¡¯ chambers, feeling the adrenaline along my veins slowly simmer away as I finally stepped outside the door. The events of the past few minutes raced across my thoughts, leaving a weave of uncertainty and fear in my mind.


    Fear. The thing that drove us all.


    I exhaled a shuddering breath, closing my eyes and thumping the back of my head against the door. I slowly slid to the floor, my thoughts flowing like tar. I struggled to maintain a grasp on each as they passed, the thumping of my heart making it hard to discern anything. From terror or passion, I did not know.


    I held my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut so hard I saw stars behind my eyelids. I gave myself a few minutes to just¡­ acknowledge, and center myself afterward.


    Eventually, the Unseen World washed over my vision. I saw Lady Dawn standing not far away, looking down at me with an angry expression.


    ¡°She hurt you, my bond,¡± she snapped, looking at my hands. ¡°It was not her right to do so. You should extricate yourself from this while you still can.¡±


    I forced my heartbeat to slow. That final sensation¡­ where I¡¯d been forced to sense everything Seris was feeling, all at once, made my joints lock up with guilt.


    I¡¯d always viewed my empathic abilities as a gift. It was a thing that allowed me to better understand the people around me and grow to know them better. In this strangely foreign world, it gave me the pull I needed to truly form connections.


    But what if the very act of understanding another hurts them? I wondered. What if, by even trying to know somebody, you tear open their wounds?


    I hurt Seris more, I responded to my bond. She was¡­ cornered. And she lashed out in the only way she could.


    And it had been effective. I felt as if I¡¯d been forced against my will to tear away someone¡¯s clothes by that very person, where neither party involved wanted that outcome. And of course, Seris didn¡¯t want me to know her deepest fears. But she wanted to hurt me in that final moment more than she wanted to protect herself.


    Aurora opened her mouth to say something; to protest, maybe, but then she paid closer attention to my emotions afterward. We sat in silence for a while.


    ¡°Her mental attack wasn¡¯t just about your ability to sense her emotions, was it?¡± she asked, the words more statement than a question. ¡°She strikes you because you grow closer to her; because you are learning more than she wishes you to know.¡±


    It took a long time for me to reply. Aurora had left me to my meeting alone, as she usually did whenever I interacted with Seris. She¡¯d let our bond darken slightly, allowing me to feel only my thoughts and emotions. But I had no doubt the passion I¡¯d felt had radiated over our link. And my uncertainty. And then the guilt.


    I¡¯m going to stop, I said honestly. I can¡¯t do this if it hurts her, Aurora. I didn¡¯t really¡­ understand, before. But she made her statement clear.


    ¡°Many have told you that the woman was dangerous,¡± my bond said again, sounding just a bit judgemental. ¡°Myself included, my son. Yet only now you listen?¡±


    I¡¯m a different kind of masochist from Arthur, I replied with a mental sigh. I¡¯ve always courted danger, Aurora. But I didn¡¯t understand how I was hurting her. Not really. Not until she threw it back at my face like knives.


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet, looking at my hands where Seris had marked me. I could heal it over, wash away the wounds. But¡­


    I withdrew a roll of bandages from my dimension ring, beginning to wrap the claw marks in fresh linens. My natural healing factor outside of my heartfire abilities was already well above the norm: with a body partially of the djinn and phoenix and assimilated in the silver core, I healed faster than a normal white core mage. I could already feel the flesh beneath reknitting slowly, sealing the deep gashes over.


    In a day or so, it would be gone. But without the effects of my heartfire healing, there would be scars.


    I couldn¡¯t let myself forget that feeling. Of hurting someone.


    ¡ª


    The next week and a half or so sped by quickly. After my last meeting with Seris, we had not spoken since. She had her duties as Scythe that kept her constantly occupied beneath this desert in Darv, always demanding her attention.


    But so too did I. My days were filled with practicing my abilities with lifeforce, honing Circe¡¯s array¨Cor the technique I¡¯d been developing based on it¨Cand walking among the dwarves.


    The task I had been assigned was to be an envoy from Alacrya to Darv; to facilitate a better life for both in the eventual end of the war. I¡¯d spent my days talking with as many as I could, trying to learn about their culture and traditions to better understand these stubborn people.


    Thus, I now found myself reading through an old dwarven book. The handwriting was thick and stocky in its strokes and indentations, much like the dwarves themselves. The entire volume was surprisingly large, but I supposed that made sense. Dwarven hands were larger than their human counterparts.


    The title of the book was called Old Hymns and Various Shanties, by one Elder Arglaxe. I¡¯d managed to borrow this particular tome from Gruhnd a day ago, and it provided me with a solid compendium of dwarven music to sift through.


    From what I could gather, most of the music here used drums and a strange stringed instrument that looked somewhat like an acoustic guitar crossed with a lute, or simply sung to the tune of hammer blows as the dwarves mined.


    I was sitting on a bench in the square of the dwarven encampment. Their new cavern was smaller than the previous one, meaning the earthshapers among the Darvish rebellion¡¯s number worked to expand their cavern bit by bit.


    All around me, the hustle and bustle of working dwarves echoed like a strange chorus. Over time, the controlled chaos around me, led by Elder Shintstone, became like background music that tapped into a steady rhythm at the back of my mind.


    One of the things I already had an intuitive understanding of was music. The logical extension of that was to investigate the music produced by the dwarves.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find you reading a book,¡± a voice grunted from the side. ¡°Though you seem like the type if I truly think.¡±


    I turned, mildly surprised to see Olfred Warend. The dwarven Lance had often taken to scouting missions, ostensibly making sure the paths that we Alacryans used to travel around Darv were properly free of Dicathians before use. I thought he was¨Cunderstandably¨Ctrying to avoid Scythe Seris as best as possible. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That meant I hadn¡¯t actually gotten a chance to talk with the man since I¡¯d severed his Lance artifact¡¯s hold over him. He looked serious as ever, his dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Though his beard had begun to grow a bit unkempt, he seemed surprisingly put-together.


    ¡°It¡¯s not really a novel,¡± I said, flashing the cover. ¡°Unless you count all the notes as letters, but I¡¯d wager that starts getting into the semantics of what makes a novel,¡± I quipped.


    Olfred¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You really are trying to connect to us, aren¡¯t you?¡± he said, sounding slightly surprised. ¡°Elder Shintstone still isn¡¯t convinced your motives are entirely pure.¡±


    I sighed, feeling my good mood evaporate. The dwarven elder had more than enough paranoia for her entire contingent of soldiers. ¡°Well, practically every Alacryan she¡¯s met has treated her¨Cand every dwarf¨Cas lesser,¡± I said with no small flash of irritation. I shook my head. ¡°But how are you doing, Olfred? You didn¡¯t seem really¡­ there after we last spoke.¡±


    Olfred looked around with a trace of annoyance. ¡°Nothing¡¯s been done to inquire about Elder Rahdeas,¡± he said with a grunt. ¡°We all know he must¡¯ve been captured, but your Scythe refuses to take any extra steps to try and get him any sort of release.¡± The dwarven Lance tried not to glare, but he was obviously failing.


    I ground my teeth, feeling a knot of guilt well up in my stomach. Rahdeas would die in his cell from the spell embedded into him, ripped apart in a flurry of black steel. Yet Olfred still held out hope that a future with his escape was possible.


    So if we wanted to save him at all, we had a real deadline. I furrowed my brow, thinking of what could be done. Albold wasn¡¯t valuable enough as a hostage to be worth exchanging, and besides, I needed to learn what I could from him about the Trailblazer Division for my future plans. What else could I do to actually affect Rahdeas¡¯ capture?


    An uncomfortable silence stretched between us in the wake of Olfred¡¯s lament. After all, there wasn¡¯t much I could do. ¡°What is Rahdeas like?¡± I finally asked, trying to change the topic toward something else. ¡°I¡¯ve heard a bit about him from the other dwarves, but you knew him better than any else.¡±


    Olfred looked at me strangely before replying. ¡°He is kind and strong,¡± he said slowly. ¡°He took me from the streets of Burim when I was but a boy. No others even spared me a note of attention or care, even when I begged for scraps. But Rahdeas did. Even when all scorned me, he was there, asking for nothing in return.¡±


    I looked down at my hands, Olfred¡¯s words reminding me of someone else. Aurora¡¯s words echoed in my ears.


    I have often found that the selfless burn themselves away.


    ¡°I knew someone like that once. I haven¡¯t met anyone else so kindhearted,¡± I said, thinking of Greahd. ¡°You¡¯re lucky to have them.¡±


    Olfred opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted by a young man rushing toward us. Lusul Hercross¡¯ dark skin was slick with sweat as he approached, trying to maintain proper military discipline in his walk. Despite this, he was clearly stilted and nervous as he approached.


    He saluted me, his almost-pink eyes darting to the book I held in my hands with clear curiosity. ¡°Lord Daen, sir,¡± he said sharply, wrenching his gaze from the book to look at me.


    I felt my brow furrow, hearing Lusul¡¯s thunderous heartbeat. ¡°What is it, Lusul?¡± I asked. ¡°Report to me.¡±


    The dwarves around us stopped what they were doing, sensing the importance of what was about to be said. Preemptively, I raised a sound barrier around Olfred, Lusul, and me.


    Lusul gulped, settling his nerves. ¡°I have been given an order directly from Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he said stiltedly. ¡°Toren Daen is to appear before her to commence planning on the next stage of the war.¡±


    I absorbed that in the moment, feeling uncertain. I nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a moment,¡± I said, then turned back to Olfred. ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me more about Rahdeas another day. It seems I¡¯ve got a date with a war council.¡±


    Olfred frowned, but he didn¡¯t say a word as I began to walk away from him through the warm tunnels. Lusul trailed behind me in lockstep, doing his damndest to not look like he was in over his head.


    The caverns smelt constantly of smoke and oil. Men and women nodded to me in mixtures of respect and slight uncertainty as I passed. I wasn¡¯t in an official military position, but I was known for my power and having the close ear of Seris. The dwarves I passed, at least, didn¡¯t treat me with the initial outright hostility I¡¯d experienced before.


    ¡°So, Lusul,¡± I found myself asking as I nodded to Gruhnd as he carted a crate of armor past, ¡°What do you think of the dwarves so far?¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡± he said uncertainly in response.


    I sighed. This was the problem with military hierarchy and why I really didn¡¯t fit in with it. I felt uncomfortable being treated as if I were superior. ¡°You¡¯ve been interacting with them for a little over a month now,¡± I said sternly. ¡°What are your thoughts about them? Their drive and people? The cause they fight for?¡±


    Lusul was quiet for a moment. ¡°I think they are primitive,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°They don¡¯t have half the technology we do. Their kings were all horrible rulers, leading to the current strife. We don¡¯t have that with the Vritra as our overlords. The dwarves will certainly benefit from the Sovereign¡¯s rule,¡± he said, each word sounding halfways rehearsed.


    ¡°Lusul,¡± I said, feeling slightly disappointed, ¡°If I were to pick a dwarven child from this continent and raise them in Alacrya without a soul knowing of their origins, would you still think the same?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I would notice,¡± the young man said after a moment. ¡°They would be short.¡±


    ¡°And are short people lesser?¡± I prodded.


    ¡°No,¡± he said automatically. ¡°It is our basilisk blood that makes us strong. Makes us rise above all the other lessers. Height has nothing to do with it.¡±


    We were nearing where Seris¡¯ quarters were in the caverns. The presence of mages became the norm as men and women darted about, running errands and generally keeping this little hideout running smoothly.


    ¡°And if we took an Alacryan child and dumped them in the middle of Sapin,¡± I said, ¡°Would this child not be as ¡®primitive¡¯ as all the others?¡±


    Lusul opened his mouth to reply, likely to say no, but then his mouth slowly closed. He blinked, seeming to belatedly recognize the point of my words.


    ¡°Scythe Nico spent his childhood on this continent,¡± I said into the silence. ¡°And truth be told, he was barely worth a mention in Dicathen¡¯s recent history.¡± At least he won¡¯t be until he slaughters thousands at Etistin Bay, I thought cynically. ¡°But the line between Alacryan and Dicathian isn¡¯t as slim as you think.¡±


    I stepped toward Seris¡¯ rooms, leaving Lusul with a contemplative frown on his dark face.


    Hopefully, I had some impact on him, I thought as I stepped toward the door.


    A guard stood on either side, each outfitted in the red and gray of Alacrya. ¡°Lord Daen,¡± the one on the right said, bowing deeply. ¡°You are expected.¡±


    I raised a brow. Very formal.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said as they opened the door. I stepped inside, inspecting the room.


    It hadn¡¯t changed since I¡¯d last been here. There was a larger table that was stationed near the center of the room that bore a detailed map of Dicathen stretched across it. Small board pieces that I suspected indicated troop locations were scattered all throughout the continent.


    And standing near the head of the table was a single person, clothed in her stereotypical black ensemble.


    I immediately felt compelled to meet Seris¡¯ dark eyes. An ever-so-slight smile tugged at the edges of her lips as she saw me, leaving me to blink in uncertain surprise. I remembered what I¡¯d felt a week ago. The guilt returned, making my teeth clench.


    ¡°Toren,¡± she said, her tone even as ever. ¡°Your timing is impeccable as always. You are the first to arrive.¡±


    I forced myself to walk to the end of the table, feeling my stomach do an interesting interpretation of a somersault as I stared at the woman across from me. It took me a moment to realize she¡¯d called me by my first name. She hadn¡¯t done that since she released the mask of Renea Shorn.


    I shoved my empathic sense for intent into a little bottle within my mind, trying to shut it off as I stared at the woman. It was like trying not to feel. Or trying not to smell. Or trying not to hear. It made the world feel suddenly dimmer as I exerted the not-insignificant effort to quell my intent sense.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been late enough times to know I should always arrive on time,¡± I said with mild amusement, masking my uncertainty. I hoped my discomfort wasn¡¯t clear in my voice.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°You are, in fact, very early,¡± Seris replied. ¡°But that is understandable. I sent out the call for you to arrive earlier than any of the others.¡±


    I opened my mouth, catching her implications. She wanted to talk to me personally about something, then? About the war?


    Hopefully about the war. I hoped it was about the war. It had to be about the war.


    ¡°I do wonder what we¡¯ll be doing today that demands my attention. And what this ¡®next stage of war¡¯ is, exactly,¡± I said, testing the proverbial waters.


    As far as I was aware, Scythe Seris hadn¡¯t made any overt moves during this time in The Beginning After the End. Did that mean whatever was happening was a result of my influence?


    Seris tilted her head. ¡°You will know in due time, of course. But first, come here,¡± she commanded primly, gesturing to her left side. ¡°I will not have you apart from me during these proceedings. It is important that your station be understood by those in attendance.¡±


    I hesitated for a time. Seris had a tendency to push and prod at me in a playful, teasing way. I¡¯d leaned into that for a time, but after my resolutions earlier, I didn¡¯t feel comfortable taking that step and risking it again.


    The Scythe clearly noticed my hesitation. Her expression shifted into one of subtle remorse, and I forcefully restrained my empathic sense even further as she looked away in what I assumed to be shame.


    ¡°Stand here,¡± she said, more quietly as she again gestured to her left. ¡°Please.¡±


    It was at that moment that my bond with Aurora¨Cwhich had been at its usual vibrancy as she scrutinized the conversation¨Cdimmed again.


    Fuck! I thought, mentally trying to get a hold of her. But nothing I tried gave me an answer.


    I was alone. But I could do this. Belatedly realizing I¡¯d been standing in place for a few seconds, I forced out an exhale. ¡°Okay,¡± I said awkwardly, striding robotically toward Seris¡¯ side.


    I desperately squashed my guilt as I stared ahead, an awkward silence stretching over us. I had the distinct impression that Seris really didn¡¯t have an idea of what to say either.


    But I couldn¡¯t just sit in silence and stew endlessly. I needed to move. To do something. Especially because Lady Dawn had ditched me again.


    I reached my hand out, tracing the map in front of me. My finger followed one of the rivers that threaded along the Grand Mountains, stretching from Blackbend City all the way to the Pass of Burim at the southern end of the continent. The act served to calm me somewhat. I was able to better focus when the focus wasn¡¯t her.


    The river is called the Sehz as well,


    I thought, staring at the map. Just like the mighty river in Alacrya.


    I knew why. Aurora had once told me that Alacrya and Dicathen, millennia ago, had been part of a single continent. Ages before her time, the warring clashes of asuran clans had rent the world apart, splitting Dicathen and Alacrya from each other by force of mana and might.


    How massive must that continent have been? I wondered. Alacrya is already larger than Asia itself, and Dicathen is only slightly smaller. And the distance they are separated by sea is even greater.


    A supercontinent greater than any landmass I had ever seen: and the majority of it had sunk beneath the waves.


    When asura went to war with each other, it was the very world itself that lost.


    Seris¡¯s arm gingerly reached out, a sole finger brushing over the top of my hand. I looked back at her, wondering what I¡¯d see on her face.


    Her lips were pursed in an expression of severity, her forehead pinched and her eyes hard. I shifted as I realized she was drawing the soft pad of her index along the scars that had formed atop my hand.


    ¡°You bear scars,¡± she said slowly, ¡°Yet you shouldn¡¯t. Not with your abilities to heal.¡±


    I kept my eyes focused on where Seris¡¯ warm finger brushed against the top of my hand, the ridged scar tissue strangely sensitive under her touch. ¡°If I¡¯d opted to simply wash it away, there wouldn¡¯t be a scar. But I thought I should remember.¡±


    I was silent for a moment, resisting the urge to clench my fingers into a fist. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Seris,¡± I forced out, looking away from her. ¡°I didn¡¯t understand what I was doing. Not truly. So I will¡­ stay in my lane.¡±


    ¡°Stay in your lane?¡± Seris asked, sounding curious. I couldn¡¯t see her, but I imagined she was tilting her head. ¡°Another strange turn of phrase from you, Toren.¡±


    Right. Another saying from Earth, I realized. ¡°I¡¯ll keep to myself,¡± I amended. ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize what my intent really meant. Not until¡­¡±


    I trailed off, feeling the distinct urge to simply leave. I could probably reach the door in maybe¡­ One-fiftieth of a second, if I pushed it just a little?


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of running,¡± Seris said inquisitively. Not a question, but a statement of fact.


    God damnit. ¡°No, I am not. I wouldn¡¯t dare disrespect you in such a way, Scythe Seris,¡± I said, my face a mask of stone.


    Her hand flinched, recoiling slightly from where she¡¯d been tracing my scars. Against my will, I turned slightly, looking down at the Scythe. She was inspecting the map instead of me.


    ¡°It is a strange thing, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I called our previous meeting to ensure you would call me as such. Scythe. But I find that I dislike it. Deeply.¡±


    That door is not one-fiftieth of a second away, I reasserted, gauging the distance. I could probably make it there in one one-hundredth of a second. Far less than that if I were willing to use Soulplume.


    Seris sighed. ¡°Will you stop thinking of running?¡± she said with clear agitation, her face dipping into a scowl. ¡°I simply wish for a civil conversation.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I lied again. ¡°I just don¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Your entire stance says it all, Toren,¡± she said, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ve faced enough cornered fools to know what they look like.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at the implication. ¡°And you¡¯re cornering me. Again,¡± I accused, feeling more than a little irritated. It was bad enough constantly being underground, away from the open sky. ¡°What do you want me to say?¡±


    Seris shifted slightly, and I felt sweat beading on my temples as I reasserted my control over my intent sense. It was getting harder to block out that sense the longer it went on.


    ¡°I wish to clarify,¡± she finally said into the tense silence. ¡°I took actions that were inefficient at the time, and I have come to see that there were better paths available that I should have taken.¡±


    I slammed my eyes shut. ¡°Is the word ¡®sorry¡¯ not in your vocabulary?¡± I asked, feeling my annoyance shift slightly. A headache was building in the back of my skull that made my very eyelids throb.


    ¡°No, it isn¡¯t,¡± Seris bit back, and I could sense her subtly glaring at me from the side. ¡°It is enough for you to say it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how apologies work,¡± I groaned, pinching my nose between my thumb and forefinger. Instead of my earlier anxiety and desire to run, annoyance and resignation reared their heads instead. My shoulders slumped as I tried to work this all out, but it was getting harder to think.


    I grunted slightly, leaning forward over the table and closing my eyes. Fuck, that headache was getting worse fast.


    ¡°Can you sense something?¡± Seris asked suddenly, her demeanor shifting immediately. ¡°What is it that you hear, Toren? An asura?¡±


    She¡¯s thinking of Central Cathedral, I thought through the growing haze. I did react similarly then, didn¡¯t I?


    ¡°Just have been¡­ suppressing my senses,¡± I said in a clipped tone. ¡°Was harder than I thought. I¡¯ll manage.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t realized it until nearly this moment how intrinsic my sense for intent was. It truly was another sense, and the effort to turn it off was like telling my eyes not to see, or my body not to feel the rough wood beneath my fingers. I¡¯d never done this in such fullness before.


    ¡°If it is hurting you this much, then I cannot believe it is a viable path forward for us,¡± Seris said. ¡°I can propose a¡­ solution.¡±


    I forced myself to straighten, taking a deep breath. It was just pain. I dealt with pain all the time. I was fine.


    Fuck, headaches were the worst kind of pain.


    I looked down at the Scythe, squinting through the rippling agony in my head. ¡°And what kind of solution would that be?¡±


    Seris opened her mouth, her pink lips parting, then closed it again. She turned back to the map. ¡°You can put anything to song with that intent-based music of yours, yes?¡±


    ¡°If I recall the emotion deeply enough,¡± I responded.


    Seris knew this, of course. She¡¯d been the first to champion the effects of my concerts as Renea Shorn. The first to really believe in the change I could make.


    Seris nodded slowly, taking my words in with a thoughtful expression. It was somehow easier for me to think if I focused on her more directly, but I still couldn¡¯t really piece together her implications.


    The Scythe in question had seemingly found something very interesting in her dark nails, if the way she was constantly inspecting them were any indication.


    ¡°You will play a song for me when our planning and battles are done. For me alone and no other audience,¡± Seris ordered simply. ¡°I will hear your experiences of me in their fullness. Give and take.¡±


    The Scythe looked up at me with a piercing gaze past her nails, her head tilted and her small lips pursed tightly. I saw the reaching, tentative gesture for what it was. A questing hand thrust out into the unknown. Fearful of the dark unknown, but entranced by it, too.


    It was true that I sensed Seris¡¯ emotions on a deep level whenever they leaked past her cloaking artifact, but she could not sense mine. I thought that might have been the source of much of her worries. And if anything were to blossom, there needed to be¡­. Reciprocity.


    ¡°Are you¡­ certain?¡± I asked, feeling far from the emotion myself. The piercing pain in my skull had finally evened out, and I thought I might be able to manage it now. ¡°I know what you felt a week ago. If that is¨C¡±


    ¡°I have given this more thought than your petty mind could fathom,¡± Seris said with sigh. ¡°There are benefits to such an arrangement, too. More than you know.¡±


    I nodded slowly. I still felt phantom worries of what had happened barely a week past scratch their possibilities in my mind. I didn¡¯t know if this was the solution that would work, but I would give it a try.


    ¡°And you can release that empathic sense of yours,¡± Seris said sharply. ¡°I will not have you glaring and making faces at my captains like a constipated ape.¡±


    I released a breath as I complied, leaning forward on the table again as color rushed back into my perception. ¡°Thanks,¡± I groaned. I wondered if this was what a balloon felt when it popped. Dear god, was it relieving.


    ¡°You are a fool, Toren Daen,¡± Seris said simply, not acknowledging me at all.


    ¡°Took you that long to figure it out?¡± I said back, my speech slightly slurred as I blinked back double vision.


    ¡°I always knew you were a certain kind of fool,¡± the silver-haired mage replied honestly. She¡¯d gone back to inspecting her nails, pretending for all the world that she wasn¡¯t insulting me. ¡°But it took me some time to truly comprehend the depths of your absurdity.¡±


    I slowly straightened as I felt myself return to form, breathing in and out as I wiped the sweat from my brow. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I allowed, rolling my shoulders as I did my best to make myself seem more presentable. ¡°But birds of a feather flock together.¡°


    I thought I was exceptionally funny for that one. I even punctuated it with a smirk.


    Seris, evidently, did not. ¡°There is a difference between a fool and an idiot,¡± she sighed, clicking her nails along the table as my retort settled in. ¡°If you wish to be an idiot, then continue your current course.¡±


    I rolled my eyes. She didn¡¯t deny my words, either.


    A simple silence stretched over us as I let my thoughts wander. I still wasn¡¯t¡­ sure about this. Seris¡¯ proposed ¡®solution¡¯ might set her mind at ease, but I worried about hurting her again in a way that I didn¡¯t anticipate.


    But you only lived twice.


    The silence was interrupted as plated footsteps echoed out. Belatedly, I realized Cylrit had entered the war room. His face was dreadfully expressionless as he focused on his master.


    I exhaled a steadying breath as I forced myself to turn toward the Retainer. I felt a sobering wave as his presence reminded me precisely of what we were supposed to be here for.


    ¡°Scythe Seris,¡± he said, his bow even stiffer than normal. ¡°As commanded, I have arrived.¡±


    Seris crossed her hands over her stomach, a familiar mask melting into place. That of the impassive military commander. ¡°That is good, Cylrit,¡± she said surely. ¡°We only have to wait for the captains of our troops, and we will be ready to begin.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s booted feet walked robotically toward our location. Where I took Seris¡¯ left, Cylrit stood at attention at her right, just a bare ways behind her. The muscles in his neck visibly flexed as he tried to keep his attention forward, but I sensed a roiling, burning feeling radiating through his intent.


    Where before I¡¯d felt a kind of mellow warmth, that was quickly replaced by burgeoning uncertainty as Cylrit¡¯s swirling emotions radiated through his mana. The seconds ticked by painfully.


    And finally, my bond with Aurora reignited as she turned her attention back to me. I felt her amusement over our bond like a little burning fire.


    You could¡¯ve said something, I grumbled to her. I¡¯d felt like a child dropped in the deep end of the pool, kicking and thrashing to frantically swim as their parent clapped on the sidelines.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t need to be there,¡± Lady Dawn replied seriously. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my conversation to have. But¡­¡± I felt her momentary surprise. ¡°You are continuing in your course?¡±


    I felt the approaching mana signatures of Seris¡¯ captains as they approached, each one significantly powerful. Maybe, I replied. I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s complicated.


    My bond kept her reservations to herself for a few moments as she processed my emotions. She seemed just about as uncertain as I was, but she shelved them for the moment as the time for politics arrived.


    Finally, Seris¡¯ subordinates filed in. A few of them I recognized from sparse interaction, though most were unfamiliar. They all bowed deeply, addressing Seris with respect upon entrance. They crowded around the table, around six in total.


    The Scythe of Sehz-Clar¡¯s eyes swept over the gathered captains. ¡°I have called this meeting today to discuss the next steps we will take in this war,¡± she said. ¡°In light of recent events, I have decided to make a true push to capture Vildorial, the capital of Darv.¡±


    The captains received the information stoically, but I had to suppress a mote of shock at Seris¡¯ words. This never happened in the original canon, I thought. What does this mean?


    One of the captains cleared his throat¨Ca bespectacled man with arms the size of tree trunks and skin the color of ebony. ¡°Permission to speak, my Scythe?¡± he requested quietly.


    Seris spoke through my swirling thoughts. ¡°Permission granted, Captain Dromorth.¡±


    Captain Dromorth stepped forward, seeming slightly nervous. ¡°Pardon me, Scythe Seris. I know your knowledge and wisdom far exceed my own in matters of war, so I must admit my own short-sightedness. I do not see as far ahead as you, and cannot understand why you opt for a push now.¡±


    The man looked at Seris, gauging her reaction. She clicked her nails together, a single brow raised. ¡°Continue,¡± she commanded silently. ¡°I do not punish valid questions.¡±


    Dromorth swallowed, feeling reinvigorated by his allowance. ¡°As you know, I am in command of many of our infantry forces, including our attack teams of strikers, casters, and shields. It gives me a good idea of the number of troops at our disposal. So I must ask: from my limited perspective, it appears that we do not have the men to siege Vildorial. It is too large; too fortified. Further, even if we were to capture it, we don¡¯t have the men to hold it.¡±


    There was a slight silence that stretched from Dromorth¡¯s words. The other captains shifted uneasily as Seris¡¯s onyx eyes glinted. ¡°Do you all agree with Captain Dromorth, here?¡± she said smoothly. ¡°That my proposed idea for an assault on Vildorial is untenable?¡±


    There was a nervous air that scratched through the ambient mana, the intent of each mage detectable only to me. Until finally, one man stepped forward.


    He was thinner than Captain Dromorth and bore a long, stringy beard the color of clay. His eyes darted to me at Seris¡¯ side disdainfully, before focusing back on the Scythe. ¡°I believe in your vision, Scythe Seris,¡± he said simperingly. ¡°I do not see a point in questioning your strategic genius in this matter. Only fools would dare¨C¡±


    ¡°Captain Dromorth is correct,¡± Seris interrupted plainly, cutting through the captain¡¯s words like an arrow to the heart. A ripple of shock went through the nervous captains, and I watched the opportunistic one with a stringy beard go pale. ¡°With the number of troops at our disposal, holding the capital city of Darv against its original owners would be impossible. And the dwarves undoubtedly know their tunnels and home territory far better than we do. Dromorth asked the right questions: what do I see that you do not?¡±


    Aurora quietly dissected the interaction inside my mind, the familiar action helping to center my uncertainty at this development. ¡°The Scythe knew her original proposition was flawed,¡± she said. ¡°And thus allowed those present to voice their dissent, before reaffirming it. The Scythe is able to highlight who is simply a yes-man willing to hang on her every word, and who will truly challenge poor tactical decisions.¡±


    Dromorth¡¯s beating heartfire relaxed somewhat, a direct inverse to the captain who had tried to vainly kiss Seris¡¯ metaphorical boots.


    What a balancing act she maintains, I thought, my brow pinching slightly. She needs to maintain the respect and fear of her station as Scythe, while simultaneously allowing reasonable discourse and accepting critiques from those around her.


    ¡°But there has been a change,¡± Seris said. ¡°A few weeks ago, something happened that will change the course of this war and what we can do.¡±


    I blinked, feeling a strange sense of foreboding rise at the Scythe¡¯s words.


    ¡°Lord Toren of Named Blood Daen, commonly known as Spellsong, freed the dwarven Lance Olfred of the chains that bound him as a Lance,¡± Seris said, her eyes flicking to me. The attention of the room settled onto me, a roiling mix of respect, fear, curiosity, and disdain coming from the various captains around. ¡°And for those who do not comprehend the gravity of this, let me explain it to you.¡±


    Seris laid a hand over the map of Dicathen on the table, her demure hand covering a sizable section of Darv. ¡°So far, the dwarven rebellion within Darv has been relatively small and contained, operating in the shadows and striking through the tunnels when least expected. With the capture of Commander Uto and the failure of Elder Rahdeas on the council, the rebellion became a more widespread phenomenon. But still, far from enough to truly topple the powers-that-be in Darv.¡±


    Seris¡¯ finger traced the outline of the dwarven nation on the board, a slight smile accentuating her graceful face of polished alabaster. ¡°When we first arrived on this continent, instead of the liberators we truly are, the Dicathians perceived us as invaders and conquerors. Though we merely seek to free them from their asuran oppression, they¡¯ve been brainwashed and blindsided to the truth.¡±


    I found it grimly ironic that the captains nodded along in agreement to those words. No doubt Seris, too, found the Alacryan perspective amusing. The Vritra were no better than the Indraths.


    ¡°But now,¡± Seris said, tapping her finger against the map, ¡°We¡¯ve proven our true motives. If the common dwarf were to know the truth of Rahdeas¡¯ capture¨Cthat he was bound and tortured in a cell, while it was Alacryans who saved and freed their Lance, what do you think would change?¡±


    I felt my eyes widen as I connected the dots. The captains no doubt realized the same, shifting with nervous anticipation.


    Seris retrieved her hands from the table crossing them over her stomach. ¡°We do not need to hold the capital city of Darv with our paltry numbers,¡± Seris said simply. ¡°We merely need to assist a dwarven uprising in taking it for themselves.¡±

 Chapter 195: Crafting Hope

    Toren Daen


    Seris¡¯ words settled over her small council of captains like a light blanket. Each seemed to be individually contemplating her words; trying to figure out the logistics of her proposal.


    A captain I didn¡¯t recognize spoke up next. ¡°It could work,¡± he said, his eyes widening as he stared at the board. ¡°It would also provide us a more stable and reliable foothold on the continent.¡±


    The talk continued for a while after that, each captain inputting their own ideas and observations about the proposed plan. Seris interjected every once and a while, clarifying her intent and solidifying her control over the group as a whole.


    But even while this plan¨Cwhich seemed valid to me¨Cwas spoken about, a sense of wrongness threaded through my veins. Like a single edge was out of alignment on a building¡¯s foundation, leaving the entire structure unbalanced and off.


    ¡°Though all of this hinges on the dwarves cooperating with us,¡± Captain Dromorth said with a snort. ¡°The traitors have solid numbers, true, but will they follow this plan to capture Vildorial?¡±


    The captain who had spoken up first in response to Seris¨Cwhose name I now knew was Alyx¨Creplied with a gruff sigh. ¡°They¡¯re all roaring and raging about Rahdeas¡¯ capture. They¡¯ll flock after our Scythes¡¯ orders like wogarts into a pen.¡±


    My mind flashed back to Elder Shintstone¡¯s bitter words. Of the unfair treatment her people received from the Triunion Council. From their point of view, they were underrepresented and never afforded respect. And honestly, as I stared at these captains speaking of their own allies, I realized I could see it. The discrimination the short, stocky people of Darv experienced wasn¡¯t just from Dicathen. It was from Alacrya, too.


    For the first time in the meeting, I spoke up, interjecting myself into the silence following Captain Alyx¡¯s harsh words.


    ¡°We¡¯re talking of what the dwarves can contribute,¡± I said slowly, ¡°Conversing about their rebellion and their future. But I don¡¯t see a single dwarf in attendance.¡± I tapped a finger on the map. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we seek their input?¡±


    The captains present nearly all looked at me askance. Some of the looks were hostile, others were curious. I felt a cautious respect from Dromorth, at least.


    ¡°This is a meeting called by Scythe Seris,¡± Captain Alyx said, a dismissive cast to his voice. ¡°Only Alacryans are allowed here. The dwarves can tell us how to help later.¡± He paused, then focused on me with narrowed eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve been interacting with them, haven¡¯t you, Spellsong? You should be able to get them to agree to whatever we decide. After all, that was your job, yes? To ease them into the rule of the Sovereigns?¡±


    I felt Seris¡¯ eyes on my back. Instinctually, I knew she wouldn¡¯t intervene in this. Here was where I needed to prove the value of what I¡¯d been doing.


    I tapped a finger against the table. ¡°That¡¯s the wrong way to look at what my task is,¡± I said. The eyes of all in the room were focused on me. Maybe I would have felt nervous in such a situation upon my first arrival in this world, but now it was practically nothing. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be the glue that holds our alliance together, Captain. Not their leader or some manipulative schemer.¡± My gaze slowly swept over the gathered men. ¡°Many dwarves are in rebellion due to the unfair treatment from the Triunion Council of the Graysunders and Elder Rahdeas afterward. It''s clear to them that Sapin and Darv don¡¯t give a damn for the dwarves. So tell me, what do you think the dwarves¨Cwho supposedly should help and assist us once they¡¯ve captured their capital for however long we need¨Cwill think that we made the decision for them? Just as their previous allies did?¡±


    That got a few murmurs out of the military men. ¡°Trust between allies is important,¡± Dromorth grunted as he nodded slowly. ¡°If the dwarves feel they can¡¯t trust us when they hold their city, then it would be difficult to operate from it effectively.¡±


    Okay, he isn¡¯t thinking from the dwarven perspective, I thought, But it¡¯s still a step forward.


    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t need to worry about that for long,¡± Alyx countered. ¡°Once we have reinforcements from our homeland, it wouldn¡¯t matter what the dwarves think when we outnumber their mages five to one.¡±


    I sighed internally. And then there was the step back. ¡°But are you willing to endanger what operations we have in that time when it can be simply solved?¡± I said, trying to work from a more logical angle. I had a feeling that would be more effective than arguing for the sake of the dwarves innately. ¡°War is unpredictable and chaotic. Shouldn¡¯t you take what measures you can for certainty?¡±


    Alyx¡¯s brow furrowed as he looked at me, then chanced a glance to my right. Throughout all of this, Seris had remained quiet, allowing me to speak my peace.


    ¡°It makes a powerful statement,¡± Aurora acknowledged. ¡°You speak from her left hand, and are allowed to do so without interruption or intervention. It puts you in a similar position as the Retainer on her right, and these men know it.¡±


    ¡°You make good arguments, Lord Daen,¡± the man begrudgingly said. ¡°But we are ultimately here at the behest of our Scythe. Any other invitees must be at her grace as well.¡±


    The attention of the room shifted to Seris by my side. She was lightly inspecting her nails, scratching her index and thumb together. Her face was shadowed by her silver hair. We all waited on her decision, each understanding she had the final say in this.


    ¡°Captain Alyx¡¯s conjecture was understandable,¡± Seris said evenly. ¡°But Lord Daen¡¯s original point still stands. Even now, we rely on our dwarven allies to maintain our tunnels and keep us hidden from Dicathen.¡± She looked up from her nails. ¡°It is in our best interest that we keep them satisfied. After all, our High Sovereign rewards service. And these are the first to pledge their cause to ours, even if indirectly.¡± Seris turned to inspect me. ¡°Who would you recommend to attend this meeting, Lord Daen?¡± she asked seriously.


    Before she¡¯d even finished the words, I already knew my answer. There were only two logical choices for this, and thus I would call them forward. ¡°I believe Lance Olfred Warend and Elder Jotilda Shintstone would be best,¡± I said. ¡°Both are symbols for the Darvish rebellion and should have a voice in its future.¡±


    Seris nodded sharply. ¡°It shall be done, then.¡±


    ¡ª


    All things considered, it didn¡¯t take long to bring the dwarves into the meeting room. Olfred Warend was notably nervous as he stepped in tune with Elder Shintstone, his eyes avoiding Seris¡¯ at all costs. The dwarven woman, however, unabashedly moved herself right next to me¨Cand by proxy, putting herself and Olfred at the head of the table.


    ¡°So what¡¯s all this, then?¡± Jotilda said, her arms crossed and her nose wrinkling in distaste. ¡°Some sort of meeting to decide the fate of the world? Is that why we were called here?¡±


    ¡°Not quite, Lady Shintstone,¡± Seris said demurely. ¡°Our contingent has been deciding the next phase of this war. Certain parties¨C¡± the Scythe¡¯s eyes flicked to me, ¡°--have made it clear that, since these matters concern your rebellion as much as our war, representatives of the dwarves should be present. Thus, you have been brought to join in this meeting on my honor.¡±


    Elder Shintstone looked at me, her dark gray brows furrowing as she easily pinpointed who had called for her inclusion. I saw the conflicted feelings in her eyes. After all, it had taken an Alacryan to even push for a dwarven voice. To her, it must have seemed strangely bittersweet.


    She grunted in response. ¡°Aye, makes sense,¡± she allowed, her eyes scanning the room. ¡°And what exactly are these matters of concern?¡± Jotilda asked suspiciously.


    ¡°An assault on Vildorial was being proposed,¡± Captain Dromorth spoke up, then began to explain the barebones details¨Ccutting out the parts where the dwarves were ignored. I watched as Olfred¡¯s face darkened at the mention of his inclusion in the rebellion and status as a symbol, but he remained silent.


    When it was done, Jotilda Shintstone¡¯s meaty hand was rubbing her chin in thought. Though there was an undercurrent of something more irritatedly resigned in her intent, I got the feeling she was generally on board with the plans put forward.


    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s a good idea,¡± she grunted. ¡°Have our rebellion hold our homeland, granting you Alacryans asylum and free passage. It might even work. I¡¯ve already been workin¡¯ to seed knowledge of Rahdeas¡¯ capture and Lance Olfred¡¯s survival to our spies and plants across the continent. That¡¯s done a mighty job of sewing discontent, and the knowledge that Olfred is free of his Lance artifact¡­¡±


    She turned to look at Olfred. ¡°Is it true that you aren¡¯t bound anymore, Warend?¡± she said, sounding unsure.


    Olfred looked at me, his lips pursing. ¡°Aye, it is,¡± he acknowledged after a moment, sounding generally uncomfortable. ¡°Toren Daen freed me from the chains of the asura who hold my artifact.¡±


    Elder Shintstone gave me a meaningful look, holding my gaze at Olfred¡¯s words. I found myself wondering¨Chad I made the right decision? Had I proven my intentions to this dwarf? I thought I saw a grateful note in the depths of her serious face, but I couldn¡¯t be sure.


    ¡°With the knowledge that you Alacryans freed our Lance from the clutches of the asura,¡± Jotilda huffed, ¡°You might even turn the opinion of our members in your favor, too.¡±


    Captain Dromorth leaned forward on the table, looking at the dwarven elder. ¡°Then it should be possible? To march on your own capital and hold indefinitely with the forces you have, alongside our assistance?¡±


    The anticipation in the room rose several notches as the Alacryan captains¨Ceach masking their disdain for the dwarven inclusion¨Cleaned in close.


    Instead of addressing the captains, however, Elder Shintstone turned, looking straight at the Scythe. ¡°Maybe if we were humans like you, it would be enough. Set up another option to support. Have a Lance on your side. Prove yourself ¡®liberators,¡¯ or whatever. But we of Darv aren¡¯t like you humans,¡± she said, a note of bitterness in her tone.


    Scythe Seris raised a perfect silver brow in response to the Elder¡¯s address. ¡°And what are you like, then?¡± Seris said in reply.


    Elder Shintstone¡¯s hands clenched. ¡°We¡¯ve been beaten down for so long, most dwarves don¡¯t care who rules over them anymore,¡± she said with a huff. ¡°So long as the common folk can continue uninterrupted in their firesalt mines, shape the earth in their tunnels, and hammer away at the smiths, they don¡¯t care that they¡¯re treated as lesser. It¡¯s not worth the effort to risk their lives when there¡¯s stone to chip away at. And that means we have the same issue as you Alacryans. Not enough numbers for our cause. We couldn¡¯t take Vildorial if we wanted to. It¡¯s a pretty plan, Scythe, but fundamentally flawed.¡±


    A defeated sort of air suffused the meeting room in the aftermath of Jotilda¡¯s words. Seris herself was still staring down Jotilda, a quiet clash of wills almost palpable between them. Seris opened her mouth to speak.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the numbers for Vildorial,¡± a new voice spoke up. ¡°But it¡¯s not necessarily Vildorial you need, is it?¡±


    I turned, startled to see that Olfred had stepped forward. He laid his hands on the table, leaning over it slightly as he stared at Darv. His bronze skin seemed to be a part of the earth as he stood still as a statue.


    ¡°You simply need a staging ground for your people so you can gather your strength in relative safety, no?¡± the Lance said, looking at Seris.


    ¡°That is correct,¡± Seris said slowly. ¡°Tell me what you have in mind, Lance Balrog.¡±


    Jotilda was looking at Olfred, a deep crease on her face that made her look twice her age. The other captains had retreated slightly, understanding that they held no place in this discussion at the moment. Still, they watched with rapt attention.


    Olfred reached out a large hand, a single finger extended. And when he brought it down onto the map, it was situated over a single city.


    ¡°Burim,¡± he grunted. ¡°This is where you should strike for the most gain. It is smaller than Vildorial, and thus can¡¯t field as many troops or supply lines. But it is bordered on two sides by water¨Cthe river Sehz marks the city¡¯s eastern border, and it looks out onto the Grand Mountain Strait. It is Darv¡¯s only city with a port.¡± He looked meaningfully at the Scythe. ¡°And it would be perfect to field troops from.¡±


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    At Olfred¡¯s suggestion, there was a ripple of enthusiasm that went through the captains. ¡°Our ships are far superior to anything Sapin or Elenoir can field,¡± Captain Alyx reluctantly admitted, lost in his own thoughts. ¡°If we were to hold a port city, it would make resupplying and resting infinitely easier,¡± he gruffly acknowledged. ¡°Reinforcements wouldn¡¯t need to be smuggled in if we controlled the seas completely and utterly.¡±


    ¡°And by capturing a city, the dwarves would see their rebellion truly has a chance,¡± Dromorth said next, following a different track. ¡°It would be far more feasible to capture the Darvish capital afterward. Presumably, there¡¯d be far more recruits after that, correct?¡± he said, directing the question to Jotilda Shintstone.


    ¡°Aye, there would,¡± Elder Shintstone said with a tap of her plated greaves. ¡°But there¡¯s still a problem here. One Lance Olfred didn¡¯t solve. Burim is underground, just like Vildorial. But it possibly has even greater defense than Darv¡¯s capital city because of its border with the Grand Mountain Strait, not to mention the magma pits that scar its ground levels, making conventional invasion impossible. So how are we going to capture that, if we can¡¯t capture Vildorial?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s where I come in,¡± Olfred grunted, leaning forward over the table. His long hair spilled down his simple tunic, brushing against the map. ¡°I grew up in Burim under¡­ unique circumstances. I know ways into the city that most wouldn¡¯t even think of, and I¡¯m confident that I can smuggle a small strike force into the heart of the city, straight to the teleportation gates.¡±


    His eyes darkened perceptibly as he stared at Seris, his mana churning perceptibly. ¡°But I have a condition for helping you take what was once my home, Scythe,¡± he said with restrained venom.


    I sucked air in through my teeth, my hands clenching from where they gripped the edge of the table. Predictably, the mood of the gathered men dipped as their Scythe was challenged.


    Seris tilted her head, a stern expression on her face. ¡°And what terms would these be?¡± she said, entirely unphased.


    Olfred took a deep, deep breath. ¡°The negotiation of the release of Elder Rahdeas from the grip of the Triunion,¡± he said, ¡°By any terms necessary.¡±


    Seris¡¯ demure finger brushed her lips, her dark eyes seeming to drink in even the shadows. ¡°By any terms necessary, Lance Olfred?¡± I watched a slow, predatory smile split the Scythe¡¯s face. ¡°That can be arranged.¡±


    ¡ª


    As the Scythe¡¯s word was given, the meeting began to shift in scope, planning out an upcoming attack on Burim. Aurora helped me follow along with the politics of it all, but internally I was worrying about something else.


    I was currently sitting on a bench along one of the main tunnelways, the back of my head resting against the warm stone. The meeting had been adjourned for the day, but it had been made clear we¡¯d return in the morning to finalize discussions on infiltration of Burim.


    But one thing that had been made certain during the discussions was that I would be accompanying Lance Olfred during whatever infiltration mission he¡¯d concocted. Both as a measure to my station as the Alacryan bound to the dwarven rebellion, but also, I suspected, to keep the dwarven Lance in check.


    The Unseen World blanketed my vision in mute grays and dark mists. My bond sat beside me on the bench, her arms clasped over her legs.


    I don¡¯t know if I can avoid it this time, I thought sadly. I¡¯m being pointed toward conflict where I can¡¯t just point at my enemies and say they¡¯re evil, or that they deserve death.


    My mind flashed back to my last conversation with Darrin Ordin. Where he¡¯d condemned me for valuing human life beneath my goals.


    And a deep part of me knew that Seris was intentionally sending me there.


    My bond was silent for a time, allowing me to silently contemplate the blood that would soon spill over my hands. ¡°You must weigh your actions against what you hope to prevent,¡± she said after a moment. ¡°You are a soldier, Toren. Sometimes soldiers must perform acts they deem atrocious for a cause far greater than they. It is regrettable, but such is war.¡±


    I expect to kill innocents soon, Lady Dawn, I thought back tiredly. And I¡¯m not just a solder. I¡¯m¨C


    A voice interrupted my thoughts, grating like gravel and a deep bass. ¡°So ya really did pull through for us?¡± it said, begrudging respect in her voice.


    I looked up. Jotilda Shintstone loomed over me, blocking out the light from a nearby torch. Her shadow seemed to swallow me at that moment.


    ¡°You had a point,¡± I admitted with a sigh. ¡°About the Triunion Council not treating the dwarves correctly. And I saw the same play out in that war meeting myself.¡±


    Jotilda grunted. ¡°It was a good step forward, Daen,¡± she acknowledged. ¡°We dwarves will finally be respected on this continent. Burim¡¯s a tough nut to crack, but Warend should be more than able to infiltrate as we¡¯re planning. No more hiding and cowering from our oppressors.¡±


    Even as Jotilda¡¯s words stretched into the cavern, I felt my mood plummet lower. ¡°The people we¡¯ll be fighting aren¡¯t that different from you,¡± I said. ¡°People fighting for what they think is right.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what we all fight for, Daen?¡± Jotilda said, clapping me on the arm in a friendly manner that sent a jolt through my entire body. She was strong. ¡°But we¡¯ve thought it out. I admitted I had my doubts about ya, but you¡¯ve proven you care.¡±


    Actions spoke louder than words. And apparently, my actions here were enough to prove my resolve to the dwarven elder.


    ¡°Things won¡¯t be as simple as you think,¡± I said. ¡°Perhaps I have your best interests at heart, but you no doubt noticed the disdain the Alacryan upper echelons hold for you.¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Jotilda dismissed. ¡°They won¡¯t be a problem once our rebellion has a hold of Burim. The true hearts of Darv will hold sway then, and none will afford to look down on us.¡±


    It was a strange sort of optimism I detected in the Elder¡¯s voice. I¡¯d taken her as an outright pessimist, showing cynicism at every turn. Yet there was a strange sort of hope in her tone.


    That guilt made my stomach twist with self-loathing.


    The Elder walked off after that, leaving me to brood on the bench. Even as the warm firelight of the wall sconce bathed me again, I felt a chill slowly creep along my veins.


    We all fight for what we believe is right, I agreed, staring up at the jagged stone above me. But how far are we willing to go? What parts of ourselves are we ready to sacrifice for that final goal?


    I stood up, feeling an angry energy thrumming across my veins. I wanted to punch something; to leave a crater the size of a house in the nearby wall. Maybe this guilt would leave my system if I slammed my knuckles against the stone. But I knew it wouldn¡¯t.


    I began to walk. I flexed my hands, stalking through the unfamiliar tunnels as my mana churned beneath my skin. The tunnels seemed to twist and weave in a nauseating flux as I strode over the hard stone, my destination set. Inside my head, my thoughts were awhirl.


    The Darvish rebellion, no matter their support, was destined for failure. Even if the rebellion emerged victorious against the loyalists, the forces of Agrona would simply steamroll over them afterward. And I¡¯d grown to sympathize with their cause. Slowly gained respect for their grit and endurance as I helped them work and shift.


    I¡¯d been assigned to be the glue between the dwarves and the Alacryans. I¡¯d been acting as an equal, treating the rebellion as if it had a true chance of success. But I knew better; and pretended that these people would not be dominated by the disgusting asura of Alacrya because of actions I took.


    Could I look Elder Jotilda in the eye and confidently tell her that her situation would improve? That her hope¨Cthe hope I¡¯d helped to instill¨Cwould kindle into true flame?


    I knew the answer. And it made my gut churn with twofold guilt. Was I willing to use these dwarves¨Cto use their hope¨Cto justify my goals?


    I felt Aurora¡¯s deep, coiling uncertainty as we reached the same realization in tune. She retreated back, her emotions beginning to mirror my own.


    Because to use the dwarves as pawns¨Cto throw away their aspirations and goals for the sake of my own¨Cdid not Agrona do the same?


    The echo of my boots on stone seemed like the drums of some sort of broken war machine as I finally reached my destination, my intent barely kept in check. Before me, a large training platform took up an entire cavern on its own. A set of dials and mana inputs stood off to the side at a central control sector, denoting where I could adjust settings.


    I stalked forward, steam leaking from my mouth as I stepped up onto the raised training platform. Robotically, I set a few of the dials¨Cone for masking mana signatures, and another to raise a barrier around the platform. I watched, barely restraining myself, as the shield of solid blue mana slowly rose to cover the little platform.


    I withdrew Inversion from my belt and then began to work through my dagger forms. The weapon forms taught to me by an eminent phoenix of the Asclepius clan guided me along the stone platform, dust trailing in my wake as my boots slid across the ground.


    The Unseen World washed across my vision, revealing Aurora¡¯s shade. She was following my movement in a perfect mirror, our intertwined thoughts allowing for a perfect rhythm. I began to push mana across my channels, my speed increasing gradually.


    I feinted upward, then thrust forward with the spike of Inversion. The movement was so fast that the normal eye wouldn¡¯t have been able to track it. I was a blur of red and white. But still, I couldn¡¯t outspeed my thoughts.


    Faster, I thought, gritting my teeth. Sweat dripped down my brow in slow motion as I zipped around the training platform. Aurora¡¯s shade kept up with my increase in speed, her arms a whirlwind within the Unseen World. My limbs burned as I forced them onward, the pulse of mana across my limbs buoying my strength and speed. Faster!


    Soon enough, it became hard to maintain my balance as my perception started to blur. My part-asuran physique creaked as I tried desperately to escape my own thoughts in this underground cavern.


    But I wasn¡¯t fast enough.


    I skidded to a halt, a trail of scorched earth searing behind me. All around the training platform, footprints of blackened stone revealed where I¡¯d moved through my martial forms.


    Aurora looked at me with a worried crease on her brow, sensing my chaotic thoughts. My limbs felt like they¡¯d been stretched too far, my part-asuran physique and assimilated body strained by the attempt to push my limits.


    But my body could only go so fast. I could only funnel so much mana across my mana channels. There was an upward limit to what I could do. I was barred from further augmented speed by both my core level¨Cand thus, the purity of mana I could force through my channels¨Cand the strength and size of those channels as well.


    I heard my heartbeat in my ears as I grit my teeth, sweat dripping into my eye. But there was a way to circumvent those barriers, wasn¡¯t there?


    I called on my lifeforce, urging my heart to beat in a different tune. Not faster, but harder. Like I¡¯d done in the icy mountain zone of the Relictombs to escape the yeti¡¯s time-stop ability. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I growled, feeling a painful twist in my chest. But sure enough, my heart thundered. My lifeforce surged across my veins, flowing like a tide. But that wasn¡¯t what I wanted¨Cnot across my veins. I thought of what I¡¯d seen in Circe Milview¡¯s three-point array. All the tests I¡¯d done¡­ And then how the Lance Artifacts had forcefully widened Olfred¡¯s mana veins.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora said quickly, moving to my side with a face cast in worry. ¡°Be careful. I can see within your mind what you are trying, but if you fail¨C¡±


    The damage could be catastrophic, I thought back, feeling as my muscles began to heat up. I know. And right now, I don¡¯t care. I can heal myself from anything.


    My heart clenched painfully. I snarled, my hand clasping my chest as pain surged across my body. I tasted bloody copper in my mouth as I leaned forward, focusing on pushing my heart further despite my body¡¯s protests.


    ¡°You can¡¯t heal yourself from everything,¡± Aurora chastised harshly. ¡°There are limits to what you can do. There always will be! Do not force yourself to do anything before you are ready!¡±


    I remembered the echoes of Seris¡¯ greatest fear. How she feared herself. And in that echo, my worries resonated.


    ¡°And what should I do instead?¡± I snapped out loud, my words coming out pained. ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan in place for what I need! I just need time to execute it!¡± After all, with Albold captured, the one issue I needed to address for my plans¨Cthat of the Trailblazer Division¨Chad been solved. But there were factors at play beyond just my own. ¡°But when that is over, what will I do? I promised Karsien that I wouldn¡¯t become my enemies. I raged at Darrin because he accused me of being them. And now I can¡¯t ignore what I¡¯ll need to do!¡±


    ¡°That is correct, Spellsong,¡± a stern, cold voice said, resounding off the walls of the cavern. ¡°For once, you shall be forced to do something difficult.¡±


    My enforced heartbeat nearly stopped, leaving my limbs feeling like mashed paste. Lethargically, I turned, focusing on the source of the voice.


    Cylrit hovered at the edge of the arena. He stood ramrod straight as ever, his posture impeccable. His hair was swept neatly to the side, emphasizing his horns and annoyingly perfect jawline. He hovered slightly above the ground, his massive black sword¨Ceasily larger than he was¨Cfloating in the air behind him.


    I shifted, feeling my body protest at the movement. Even as my heartfire worked to soothe over whatever strains I¡¯d put it through, there were some that could only be alleviated through rest and recuperation. ¡°If you think I¡¯ve never done anything difficult in my life,¡± I sneered, feeling close to the edge as I glared at the Retainer, ¡°Then you¡¯re wrong, Cylrit.¡±


    He huffed out, floating forward as contempt radiated through his intent. ¡°You have never been in war, Spellsong. Horrendous as the Plaguefire Incursion was, it was no war. Do you think yourself prepared for war?¡±


    His eyes¨Ceach the color of curdled blood¨Croiled like the undercurrent of a storm.


    ¡°I¡¯m more prepared than you think,¡± I hissed back at the Retainer, my emotions¨Cnormally kept in control and under wraps¨Csimmering to the surface like steam off a hot stone. ¡°You don¡¯t know how I¡¯ve planned for this. How I¡¯ve readied myself for this.¡±


    ¡°And yet still you struggle,¡± Cylrit countered, his lips twisting into a scowl. ¡°It seems further instruction is needed.¡± The Retainer thrust his hand behind him, grabbing his massive pitch-black greatsword. The shadows around it seemed to warp. ¡°Prepare yourself, Lord Daen.¡±

 Chapter 196: Cementing Resolve

    Toren Daen


    I growled, settling into my Acquire Phase on instinct as Cylrit¡¯s intent¨Cserious and sharp¨Cslammed into me. The reassuring warmth of my Phoenix Will steadied my anger, focusing it and allowing me to block out the roiling guilt in my stomach. ¡°Are you really going to do this, Cylrit?¡± I hissed, my hand clenching around Inversion.


    Cylrit didn¡¯t respond. My instincts blared at me, screaming that I needed to move. That I was in danger. All at once, the hairs on the back of my neck rose, sensing an electric tension in the air. Cylrit¡¯s intent slammed into the atmosphere in tune with his mana. I barely had the time to inhale, shifting my stance in preparation.


    And then the Retainer blurred. One moment he was fifty feet away. The next, he was simply gone.


    The first thing I felt was pain¨Cthe flashing, disorienting kind, that made it hard to even think. A dull, crunching sound echoed out as the Vritra-blooded mage¡¯s gauntleted fist¨Cappearing as if out of nowhere¨Cslammed into my collarbone. My shoulder buckled from the blow, the shattering of bone and tearing of muscle radiating all across my body like fire.


    A crater the size of a house opened beneath my body as I was slammed into the ground by the force of a jackhammer. Stone rumbled around me as I cried out in pain, a wave of dust kicked up around us. My vision flashed red from agony, my decimated shoulder made all the more apparent.


    ¡°Toren!¡± my bond cried in worry, her words reaching me like lights in the fog. ¡°He isn¡¯t done! The Retainer is¨C¡±


    ¡°You are weak, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit¡¯s voice hissed from above. A dark, plated hand thrust through the cloud of dust, cinching around my bloodied robes. He hauled me up, forcing me to look him in the eye. My hands¨Cfeeling exceptionally weak¨Cgripped his metal gauntlets.


    Inversion streaked in from the side, the point sharp and deadly as it aimed for the Retainer¡¯s jaw. I snarled, blood dribbling from my lips as I glared at the Vritra-blooded mage.


    His massive greatsword shifted, and suddenly, my telekinetically controlled weapon veered off to the side. I twisted in Cylrit¡¯s grip, building a layer of plasma across my shin as I attempted to kick him in the chin with an attack coated in burning energy.


    My shin hummed audibly as my leg blurred for the Retainer¡¯s head in a streak of red. I felt the adrenaline in my veins, the pulse of both our exaggerated heartfires, and the sure sense of battle reinvigorating my blow.


    Several things happened at once. Inversion slammed into Cylrit¡¯s greatsword with a resounding clang, the magic surrounding it being absorbed into his pitch-black weapon. At the same time, my kick nearly hit his chin. Except the dark-haired man released my collar just in time, my spinning attack barely missing his jawline as he leaned back. His eyes darkened perceptibly as he sneered, the tip of my toe barely clipping his hair.


    And then his fist struck me heavily in the side. His solid attack shattered my telekinetic shroud as if it didn¡¯t exist, treating my greatest defense as if it were merely paper. His metal knuckles ground into the flesh beneath my ribs, sending a horrid jolt of pain into my liver. The force of the impact made me hover in the air for a split-second, my consciousness winking in and out from the pain as I achieved zero-gravity for the barest instant.


    I didn¡¯t even see what struck me next. I felt the impact across my jaw, the bone cracking and splintering from whatever had hit me. Against my own will, I blacked out from the attack, my brain rattling in my skull.


    The next thing I knew, I was in a heap on the other end of the training room, pain radiating from a dozen different places. I groaned, blood pooling beneath me as I tried to pull together a cohesive thought through the searing agony.


    Suddenly, I saw Aurora¡¯s shade. Her face was marked with deep worry as her hands grasped my arms. She didn¡¯t say a word as she pulled on my body, shifting me away from where I lay crumpled.


    Aurora, I thought groggily, my control of my Will faltering. The red chains on my arms flickered slightly. What¡­ what are you¡­


    ¡°And still, you refuse to dedicate yourself,¡± a voice radiated through the pain. For an instant, my head was cleared of the fire-ridden fog. Belatedly, I remembered the situation I was in. I was fighting. The pain began to clear as my lifeforce worked to wash away my wounds. ¡°To my master and to her cause. Still, you hold back. Because of selfish reasons.¡±


    I took Lady Dawn¡¯s arm, using it to support myself as I slowly struggled to pull myself to my feet. I reasserted control of my Will, cementing my control once more. I looked at Cylrit, feeling my own sweat and blood as they soaked my clothes.


    I¡¯d known he¡¯d been holding back in the several times we¡¯d trained together. But I hadn¡¯t expected the gap in power between us to be this big.


    The Retainer was hovering high in the air, clenching Inversion in one hand. The scent of burnt flesh hit my nose, and I recognized that the horn was blackening the Retainer¡¯s palm at an absurd pace. ¡°You disgrace my master with your refusal to dedicate your everything. For all that she puts on the line, you refuse to cross your petty lines in return.¡±


    Then he tossed Inversion into the air. It spun a few times in a mesmerizing way, the purple-streaked white horn spinning end over end like a flipping coin.


    I felt my instincts¨Cheightened by my assimilated Will and long combat experience¨Cscream at me to move. The mana itself seemed to command me to shift, an impending danger I couldn¡¯t see radiating through Cylrit¡¯s intent.


    The Retainer gripped his massive greatsword, cocking his arms back like a corkscrew as he levered his weapon like a baseball bat. The movement¨Cthough supernaturally fast¨Cseemed to occur in slow motion to my enhanced eyes.


    I understand, I thought, feeling dread course through my veins as I locked eyes with Cylrit. He radiated true killing intent: the desire, above all else, to drive that spike through my heart.


    I had a split second to make a decision. I could try and dodge this coming attack, and maybe I even could. But the emotions I¡¯d been restraining bubbled forward, writing themselves across my face as if in ink. I felt Aurora¡¯s sturdy hand on my back, quiet affirmation and comfort radiating over our bond. She would follow whatever I decided to do.


    And I was tired of asking questions. Tired of constantly thinking and second-guessing myself. I couldn¡¯t afford to try and justify every single action I took. Sometimes, one needed to simply act.


    Cylrit swung his sword just as Inversion came back down. His massive greatsword slammed into the back of the horn like the hammer of a god, exponential force billowing out from the strike in a flare of white. There was a booming explosion as Inversion broke the sound barrier, accelerating back toward me like a stake seeking my heart. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I exhaled, raising a single hand.


    And caught Inversion, right before it would impale me through the eye. The sudden force of the missile stopping caused another shockwave to billow out, making my clothes ripple as the force traveled across my body.


    I slowly lowered my hand, exhaling steam. My hair, which had escaped from where I¡¯d tied it into a simple knot, shifted colors to a deep crimson. It blew in a breeze none could see. Feathered runes the color of simmering coals traced their way up my arms, their hue tinted slightly by how my vision shifted.


    The entire world from my perspective was cloaked in misting shadow, only the remnants of mana that sparked around the battle platform standing out in contrast.


    My eyes were like twin suns as they pulsed with their own light. I stared up at Cylrit, my posture adjusting itself automatically to banish the weakness I¡¯d displayed before. I would not show anything less than perfection to my Vritra-blooded assailant.


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    ¡°You have been fond of testing me, Retainer of Sehz-Clar,¡± I said, my voice carrying a strange lulling cadence into the air. It was melodic and even, yet strangely chilling as well. ¡°You long for battle, and now you have found it.¡±


    Soulplume enveloped me in its burning, roaring embrace, my Phoenix Will pulsing in my mind like a star. It was difficult to separate Aurora and me from within the deluge of insight, but with the benefit of experience, I would not allow my soul to be subsumed by hers.


    ¡°So this is the power that slew Mardeth,¡± the Retainer said, his eyes squinting as they struggled to meet mine. I knew the glare to be overwhelming. ¡°Good.¡±


    I twirled Inversion, conjuring a shrouded saber. With a bare effort of will, white plasma erupted along its length, humming with heat enough to match a star.


    But then the Retainer did something I did not expect. From where he hovered in the air, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, his intent simmering away from abject anger to something far calmer. With a bare wave, his pitch-black sword evaporated away into shadow, leaving the man unarmed as he stared across at me.


    I cocked my head, inspecting Cylrit with a furrowed brow. Though the instincts from my Will urged me to lash out and strike a foe who had allowed themselves into a vulnerable position, I held myself back. ¡°What has this been for, Retainer Cylrit?¡± I demanded, leveraging my humming weapon at the man. My core pulsed painfully from maintaining Soulplume, my mana draining at an absurd rate. And though Aurora was keeping her distance from my mind, I knew it was difficult for her to maintain. ¡°You draw me into battle, and now you withdraw your blade? One cannot threaten another with a knife in the dark, and then proceed to retreat. That is cowardice.¡±


    If I had not engaged Soulplume, I had no doubt that Cylrit¡¯s attack¨Cusing my own weapon¨Ccould have killed me. Perhaps I could have avoided it, but the chances were slim enough that it could very well be treated as an attempt on my life.


    Cylrit huffed in dismissal, crossing his arms behind his back. ¡°Scythe Seris has decided to trust you. Decided to keep you closer than nearly any other,¡± he said. Though the words were even, with my sense for heartfire, I could hear as his lifeforce surged slightly at the mention of his master. ¡°But while she has dedicated everything, you refused to do so. The resolve you show here?¡± He snarled, his lips curling upward. ¡°Show it in every order from your Scythe. You will not disgrace her trust by acting halfheartedly. You will tear out the hearts of our enemies, or I will tear out yours.¡±


    The Retainer spun on his heel, stalking away from the platform with the sound of plated boots on stone. His heartfire thundered in his chest, resoundingly dark from his Vritra blood. I watched him go, making certain I was in the clear before I finally released my hold on Soulplume.


    I immediately fell to my knees as my hair reverted to its original color. My core squeezed painfully, a significant portion of my mana expended simply from maintaining my Second Phase for a minute or so. My limbs burned from exhaustion, and my mana channels strained. I blinked, my thoughts flowing like tar.


    Though I¡¯d released Soulplume, the Unseen cast to my vision hadn¡¯t changed. I noticed as Aurora stepped beside me, looking thunderously angry.


    ¡°He does not know his place,¡± she hissed angrily. ¡°To push you so far.¡±


    I wiped the back of my palm against my mouth. It came away stained red. But he¡¯s right, I thought with a snarl, pushing myself back to my feet with effort. My heart thumped in my chest as my adrenaline slowly receded. I¡¯ve been holding back. Questioning myself about if I could keep my hands clean and my soul untainted. But I can¡¯t. And I need to fucking accept that.


    I stalked away from the platform, my emotions even more turbulent than they¡¯d been when I first arrived. But now I at least felt like I could take the steps I needed to.


    ¡ª


    The next couple of days involved Seris¡¯ council ironing out their plans for an assault on Burim. Jotilda Shintstone worked to covertly distribute information and formulate a solid plan with her forces. Cylrit and I remained silent and apart for the majority of the talks, a quiet and strained tension that weighed heavily on all present.


    Seris herself never opted to bring it up, but all throughout that time, I was left to ferment in my strange sort of resolve. And all the many days of planning led to my current situation, where I stood with a few select dwarves at the edge of a tunnel. For the past few hours, we¡¯d been following a singular dwarf along this tunnel as it went deeper and deeper. The heat had been picking up in intensity as time went on, leaving me to sweat heavily.


    The dwarves weren¡¯t much better. Gruhnd mumbled something through his beard as he wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead. The grammatically-challenged dwarf adjusted his crossbow from where it rested on his back. Borzen kept his gaze forward as he trailed along, his eyes focused on Olfred.


    The dwarven Lance didn¡¯t sweat like the rest, something that genuinely surprised me. Olfred had a determined cast on his face as he marched through the stone tunnel as our guide.


    ¡°Remind me again why we¡¯re goin¡¯ this deep into the earth?¡± Borzen grunted. His bright orange beard had darkened considerably from sweat. ¡°I don¡¯t see how this helps us get to Burim. I can feel the sweat on ma¡¯ balls. If there¡¯s a better way¡­¡±


    Olfred turned back to Borzen, giving him a death glare. ¡°Burim is a fortress,¡± he grunted out. ¡°Two of its sides border the Sehz River and Bay of Burim respectively, meaning there¡¯s no easy way to assault it from there. The Sehz River itself is one of the most defended and patrolled stretches in all of Darv because of its importance. And just like Vildorial, it''s nigh impossible to assault without control of the tunnels. And it¡¯d be folly to try and make our own tunnels. We¡¯d be detected nearly instantly.¡±


    Borzen¡¯s hand rested near his mace in a manner I suspected helped comfort him. ¡°Aye, we all know that, Lance,¡± the augmenter said. ¡°But for all that we were selected for this super important mission, I don¡¯t see why we gotta be goin¡¯ toward Mother Earth¡¯s arsehole to complete it.¡±


    Gruhnd snorted from the side in amusement, his forked black mustache quivering. He said something in return, earning a disgusted look from Olfred and wide eyes from Borzen.


    ¡°By the stone, Gruhnd,¡± Olfred said, his voice low and aghast. ¡°Keep that tongue to yourself. I could have stood to never hear those words in my life.¡± He shook his head, clearly trying to rid some sort of image from his mind. ¡°But I suppose you have a point, Borzen. The resistance has been able to smuggle people into Burim, true, but the highest levels of the city¨Cour target for today¨Care even more closely guarded. That¡¯s where I come in.¡±


    As if on cue, Olfred waved his hand at the stone. With a flex of mana, it seemed to liquefy, seeping away and opening a passage. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at what revealed itself beyond.


    ¡°The entirety of Burim is built within an old volcanic cavern,¡± Olfred explained casually. ¡°The walls ruptured untold millennia ago, creating a direct passage to the Grand Mountain Strait just beyond. But while the entire cave isn¡¯t filled with magma anymore, there is still constant flow through the depths.¡± He waved his hand toward the opening. ¡°And this little river of rock? It will take us directly toward the top of the cavern.¡±


    For the first time, I felt my trepidation rise as I stared at the sight before me. A painfully slow-moving river of molten rock seeped lazily forward at a snail¡¯s pace, pulsing with untold heat. It stretched onward past our little tunnel opening, weaving south.


    I knew beforehand what Olfred¡¯s plan was to smuggle us close to the teleportation gates. Yet still, I felt my hands clench nervously. ¡°How far does this tunnel of magma run?¡± I asked, even though I knew the answer.


    Olfred grunted. ¡°Twenty miles, Toren,¡± he said, eying me. ¡°It¡¯ll be several hours of trekking, but it''s the best way to infiltrate. Especially with my abilities.¡±


    The Lance waved his hands, withdrawing a few items from his dimension ring. A few cylindrical tanks of metal were connected by pipes to what looked like ancient respirators, each designed to cover the entire face. A few straps were bolted to the metal, making it simple to sling over the shoulder. Overall, the design looked decidedly medieval.


    ¡°These tanks are filled with oxygen,¡± Olfred said, handing a set out to the flummoxed dwarves. ¡°You¡¯ll be wearing these so you don¡¯t suffocate from the lack of air.¡±


    Borzen¡¯s eyes flicked from the river of magma, to the tank in his hands, then back again. ¡°Warend, I don¡¯t know about you,¡± he said, his voice sounding strained, ¡°But I can¡¯t just swim through lava!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s magma, not lava,¡± Warend countered gruffly, cinching his tank near his belt. ¡°And ya won¡¯t be swimming, you daft lug. I¡¯ll be parting the flow for the length of our journey, allowing us to make it into the city entirely undetected. Especially as we get closer to the cavern, this magma bears magical properties that will act to hide our mana signatures. And once you put that mask on, don¡¯t talk. You only have so much air available.¡±


    Borzen nervously snapped the mask to his face, his eyes darting to me uncertainly. I shrugged, following suit. The dark river of glowing rock was certainly intimidating¨Cand for this plan to work, OIfred couldn¡¯t afford to falter for a moment¨Cbut I could do this.


    With a flex of mana, the magma in front of us parted for Olfred like a curtain shifting away from a window. It was almost mesmerizing to watch¨Cthe slow-moving tide of rolling rock bending to the will of a single mage. A bubble appeared in the river, opening a perfect area for a few dwarves and a relatively tall man. Yet despite what must have been several tons of stone parting like a sea, the dwarven Lance didn¡¯t seem strained in the slightest.


    This was the crux of Olfred¡¯s plan. Burim didn¡¯t have mages patrolling the lava flows that stretched on for miles, because why would they? It would take a white-core mage with their control of organic magic to constantly affect the flows and keep themselves safe for infiltration, and there was only one such mage with a magma affinity¨COlfred himself. It was an idea so far out of left field that I would be astonished if anyone could predict it.


    The stone beneath the magma steamed visibly, the light warping from the heat it bore and creating a haze. Olfred stepped forward without hesitation onto the rock, coating himself in mana to protect himself from the heat. Molten rock churned over his head in a slow arc, seeping in a flow I couldn¡¯t discern.


    I took a deep breath¨Cone of the last I could afford¨Cthen followed after him, entering the river of magma.

 Chapter 197: The City of Magma

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    There was a time when I thought I¡¯d experienced the worst heat in my life. During my preliminary ascent, the desert zone I¡¯d faced had been an unrelenting slog. My socks had squished with sweat and I¡¯d needed to fight off heat exhaustion constantly. It was only Jared¡¯s absorbent shield that spared the Unblooded Party the worst of the heat.


    But now, I thought I¡¯d have to revise that statement. Because while I¡¯d grown exponentially stronger since my preliminary ascent, I¡¯d at least been able to drink whenever I needed to within the desert zone.


    I was surrounded by a bubble of magma, the ominously glowing molten rock flowing around our little group of dwarves. I had to crouch slightly to keep my hair from catching on fire, and over the past few hours, my part-asuran, assimilated body¨Cthough leagues beyond what was afforded to me in the desert zone¨Cgradually began to feel the strain of being in close quarters with molten rock for such a long time.


    The effect was compounded by the fact that I couldn¡¯t afford to remove the respirator over my mouth, and consequently, couldn¡¯t even rehydrate to regain the fluids I¡¯d sweated out. There was no oxygen in this little slice of hell, so our group¨CGruhnd, Borzen, Olfred, and I¨Cneeded to wear a primitive rendition of a diver¡¯s mask and oxygen tank.


    I followed mutely behind Olfred as he trudged on silently, blinking another drop of sweat from my eyes.


    I¡¯m never going to do something like this again, I internally groused, keeping a layer of fire mana around the soles of my feet so that my shoes wouldn¡¯t melt from stepping over the hot stone.


    I understand that this might be the best route to infiltrate Burim, but no wonder nobody else considered it, I thought, looking at Gruhnd and Borzen. They fared worse than either I or Olfred. We had to take frequent breaks to give them time to recover slightly. Their skin was noticeably reddening and burned from the close contact, and each of their footfalls dragged behind them. These two are close to collapsing, but they can¡¯t even afford to do that.


    I¡¯d long since been coating them in fire mana as well to help ward off the heat. It was second nature for me to wrap myself in my own mana¨Cand my control was exceptional, especially close to my body. But trying to maintain three separate shrouds for hours at a time was taxing in a way I hadn¡¯t anticipated.


    ¡°From the maps the dwarven Lance provided, this route seems like it will provide a straight route to the more restricted areas of Burim,¡± Aurora commented in my head. ¡°Namely, the teleportation gates that you seek to subvert. And from my internal calculations, it should not be much longer before you emerge.¡±


    A drop of molten rock fell from the ceiling, splashing against my mana shroud. I removed it from my shoulder with an irritated flick. Then I looked worriedly toward Gruhnd and Borzen. I was used to putting myself through abnormally grueling and painful situations, but I wouldn¡¯t use myself as a benchmark by any means. Just because I bore the willpower to weather this trek didn¡¯t mean these dwarves could go on much longer.


    I ground my teeth, glaring at the path ahead. I hope so.


    As if on cue, Olfred slowed down, his rugged clothing clinging to his body from a light sheen of sweat. He turned, his eyes flashing slightly as he raised a hand, pointing it toward the path ahead in a predetermined gesture.


    My fists clenched at my side. We were close!


    I looked back toward Borzen and Gruhnd, who each stumbled to a halt. Taking the chance, I laid a hand over their backs, infusing more mana into the protective shroud I cast around their bodies. They sagged in bare relief, but the hope in their eyes from Olfred¡¯s gesture did far more than my magic ever could.


    I nodded toward Olfred in confirmation. I was ready.


    Olfred turned around, holding a hand toward the wall of magma in front of him. And with a bare effort of will, a small opening appeared in the flow. The Lance peeked his head out of the gap, presumably surveying the surroundings ahead of us.


    And blessedly, the dwarf waved his hand, beckoning us forward. The gap in the magma widened, granting just enough passage for a hunched human and a few dwarves to exit. I trailed after him in an exhausted plod, and even despite my tiredness, I had to restrain the urge to gasp aloud at what greeted me.


    The function of Burim and its layout had been explained to me before the mission began. It was unique among dwarven cities, as part of the cavern it resided in had a direct opening to the outside air. But it was also unique for its cultural focus on magma and the volcanic heat of the earth, seeing as the cavern used to house a volcanic hotspot that had burst out into the nearby sea.


    But no amount of explanation and mission briefing could¡¯ve prepared me for what I saw in the cavern. The various walls that I could see bled molten rock as if from a dozen tiny wounds, each dripping the lifeblood of the earth itself. What I could only describe as aqueducts¨Clavaducts?--funneled the red-hot stone through the cavern along spell-forged pathways, directing it to a hundred different locations in a network strangely similar to my home city of Fiachra.


    And all buildings I could see, instead of thrusting up from the earth, appeared to have been sculpted from the ceiling instead. Like a grapevine bursting with fruit and vitality, networks of bridges and roads spanned the top of the cavern like glowing spiderwebs.


    Gruhnd and Borzen stumbled out after me, slumping against a nearby wall as they separated themselves from the lava flow. With a flex of his mana, Olfred opened up a small ledge to the side of the opening which we¡¯d emerged from, allowing us all a moment to rest.


    The lava path that we¡¯d come from fell like a slow-moving waterfall to a stone channel below. The lavaducts were lashed to the cavern ceiling by dark, sturdy chains of iron as thick as my torso. Belatedly, I realized I couldn¡¯t spot any structures jutting up from the ground to support any of the architecture I saw. The entire sprawling city of Burim hung from the ceiling like a hive on the underbelly of a barn¡¯s rafters, each building fashioned out of¨Cor attached to¨Cmassive stalactites.


    It was a mesmerizing sight.


    Olfred pulled off his mask, revealing a slightly strained face. I felt a complicated swirl of emotions in his intent as he stared not at the city beyond, but at the grim darkness of the cavern floor far below. ¡°This brings us close to the upper-class districts of Burim,¡± the dwarven Lance grunted out, his bronze-skinned hands clenching at his side. ¡°I recommend getting a few hours of rest before the next step. Take a drink, at least.¡±


    We were more than happy to oblige. I withdrew a waterskin from my dimension ring, guzzling the sweet, cool liquid greedily. Gruhnd and Borzen both followed suit, each scrambling to relieve their near-exhaustion with a bit of water.


    When I¡¯d drunk my fill, I turned to Olfred. His gaze seemed to be forcibly fixed on the ground far below. I couldn¡¯t make anything out that far down, but the dwarven Lance seemed to be able to see something I couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°The plan for now is simply ¡®get to the teleportation gate.¡¯ Sounds simple, and that''s because at this point it will be.¡± Olfred pointed to a nearby road that was about forty feet below us. It connected two buildings, wrapping around them and continuing onward into the darkness of the cavern. If I focused mana into my eyes, I could spot a few guards patrolling with lanterns held high. ¡°We¡¯re going to approach the teleportation gate, I¡¯m going to play my part, and both of you will, too. Any questions?¡±


    Gruhnd and Borzen were both still too busy recovering from being surrounded by magma for five hours or so, so they didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°Why is everything built from the ceiling instead of the ground?¡± I asked, voicing what felt like an obvious question. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier¨Cand more stable¨Cto build from the cavern floor?¡±


    Olfred sighed in response. ¡°Because anything on the cavern floor would get erased every decade,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°This entire cavern used to be filled to the brim with volcanic rock until that far wall burst open,¡± he said, pointing off into the darkness. If I focused, I could barely make out the rims of the cavern a mile or so away, leading out into the open air. I felt a quiet longing for the sky, but banished it as the dwarf kept speaking. ¡°And while the captured lava flows around us are quite stable, every now and then, there will be a resurgence of volcanic activity from deep within Mother Earth. Her blood will flow in waves through this cavern, rising and rising until it nearly engulfs everything¨Ceverything except the ceiling.¡±


    I blinked, cataloging this interesting bit of lore. I assumed that the molten rock would flow out into the Bay of Burim afterward, but it made sense why the dwarves wouldn¡¯t build structures from the ground up if periodic surges of lava might drown everyone in hot stone.


    ¡°But there¡¯s something ya got wrong, Toren,¡± Olfred continued in a more quiet tone, looking back toward the cavern floor. ¡°There are buildings down on the floor. People, too. But they aren¡¯t well off enough to live stably in the upper estates. You just can¡¯t see them.¡±


    I felt a wave of shock roil through my system at Olfred¡¯s words. ¡°But if that¡¯s true,¡± I said, ¡°then that means that they¡¯d be washed away by the lava tides whenever they come. Surely, they wouldn¡¯t be allowed to just¡­¡±


    But as I said the words, I found myself thinking of East Fiachra¡¯s squalor, cut off from the city¡¯s canals. The highbloods of Sehz-Clar were more than happy to simply let those people rot in their own little portion of the city, and I¡¯d since discovered that things were even worse outside of Sehz-Clar. Being exiled from cities was commonplace if one was unable to maintain work that benefitted the Sovereigns, leaving many in squalor on the outskirts of society. Punishment for crimes often included amputation of a limb or the removal of the tongue.


    Should I be so surprised that people were subjected to similar cruelties a continent away?


    ¡°The poor are allowed to take refuge in dedicated shelters before the lava tides hit. Deaths from them are rare. But livelihoods are constantly destroyed whenever they wash through,¡± Olfred continued, a strange note of sorrow in his voice. I belatedly realized I hadn¡¯t heard him lament for any other dwarf like this besides Rahdeas. ¡°The nobles in Burim pat themselves on the back for ¡®saving¡¯ the poor every time it happens, but the moment the lava has passed, they¡¯re dumped right back into the pits. And then they don¡¯t even have anything left to salvage.¡±


    I walked forward, standing beside the dwarf as he stared into the abyss down below. ¡°You said this was your home city?¡± I inquired quietly, sending the man a knowing glance.


    ¡°Aye,¡± he said in return after a moment, not meeting my eye. ¡°It was my home. Once.¡±


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    We stood there for a while more, quietly staring into the abyss. And as we did so, I found myself wondering. Did the abyss stare back?


    ¡ª


    Half an hour later, our group of four trod along one of the main streets of Burim¡¯s upper-class district. As we went, I had to restrain myself from staring too long at the buildings around us, each hanging in tiers from the cavern roof.


    Throughout my time in this world, I¡¯d witnessed many marvels that stretched the imagination, but Burim was the first city that felt distinctly alien


    to me. Its hanging lavaducts directed streams of molten rock to industrial plants. These used the mana-enriched volcanic material in their craft, making it seem like something out of an artist¡¯s dream. The cavern was unnaturally dark, which made each lavaduct stand out like a beacon.


    Far away, I could see glimpses of the water beyond the walls. A massive, gaping hole burst into the sea. I was too far away to make out details, especially in the late evening light, but I suspected that sunrises would be uniquely beautiful, even from within the caverns.


    High overhead, Aurora¡¯s relic flew in the dark, providing a scout¡¯s eye. Using the aetheric tether, I saw through the puppet¡¯s eyes every now and then, providing our group with necessary information.


    Borzen and Gruhnd remained mostly silent, while Olfred¨Csurprisingly¨Cwas humming a slight tune. He¡¯d unraveled his neat ponytail and mussed his hair slightly, likely in an attempt to blend in as he led the three of us along one of the many wide bridges of Burim. With his rugged clothes and unkempt beard, he looked practically unrecognizable from the image of Lance he normally portrayed.


    I felt a slight shock roll through me, however, as I heard a voice call out. ¡°You four! Halt!¡±


    I froze in my tracks, my hands clenching at my sides. Almost immediately, sweat beaded along the back of my neck. I resisted the urge to withdraw Inversion from my dimension ring.


    Instead, I turned slowly to see who had called out to us. Overhead, Aurora¡¯s relic shifted slightly in preparation. She was ready to assist me should this come to violence.


    A blond dwarf, his face set into a distinct scowl, was marching toward our small group. His shoulder burned with the symbol of the Triunion Council, and his intent simmered with quiet irritation.


    Preemptively, Olfred stepped in front of us, his hand covertly stopping Borzen¡¯s as it shifted to his waist. ¡°Yes, friend?¡± he called out, his voice surprisingly upbeat. ¡°What can we do for you?¡±


    The blond dwarf, clearly a relatively powerful mage from his mana signature, looked at all four of us before his gaze settled on Olfred. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he scrutinized the Lance¡¯s face. ¡°The name¡¯s Skarn Earthborn, captain of the Triunion Guard here in Burim,¡± he said, slight hostility radiating from his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll need your names and purpose for being out so late.¡±


    ¡°The name¡¯s Cladence from House Ruthsen,¡± Olfred said, easily brushing off the man¡¯s suspicion. ¡°We¡¯re running some last-minute errands for our mistress, Lady Ruthsen, to the city of Blackbend. She¡¯s not very timely, you see, and that leaves us out here so late in the evening.¡±


    Skarn¨Cwhose name I recognized from The Beginning After the End¨Cseemed unconvinced by Olfred¡¯s quick deflection. Instead of focusing on the dwarven Lance¡¯s nonchalant stare, he looked at Borzen, Gruhnd, and me. ¡°And that leads you directly to the teleportation gates now?¡± he said seriously. ¡°Do you have an official order from your House?¡±


    Olfred shifted uncomfortably¨Cand for once, even with my sense of intent, I couldn¡¯t tell if it was feigned or not. ¡°Pardon, my lord, but we shouldn¡¯t need one,¡± he said, sounding guarded. ¡°Is it a crime for a dwarf to be runnin¡¯ jobs for his employers, now?¡±


    I shifted slightly as the air suddenly became far more hostile. Gruhnd mumbled something under his breath, and Borzen¡¯s hand settled near his belt where his mace lay. Skarn did the same, maintaining a taut expression as his palm rested over the head of his axe.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t have an official edict from your House,¡± Skarn said with a note of finality, ¡°then you four will have to come with me. We can¡¯t have people out and about this late without permits in these times.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s face darkened perceptibly. ¡°My mistress won¡¯t like that, my lord,¡± he threatened, stepping forward in an attempt to be menacing. ¡°House Ruthsen won¡¯t stand for its members being detained, especially if it''s by an Earthborn.¡± S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I ground my teeth as I began to call on my mana, sensing a fight incoming. Yet despite it all, I felt a strange sense of calm clearing out my thoughts. Olfred and Skarn looked like they were about to come to blows, and if they did so, we¡¯d have to fight our way straight to the portal.


    I glanced to the side, looking toward where I knew the portal frame was. From Aurora¡¯s estimates and what I¡¯d glimpsed, I¡¯d say we were about two hundred feet away. Would we be able to make it there in time before the Dicathian forces deactivated it?


    Maybe, I thought, if I leave these three behind. But I don¡¯t know how to key the portal¨Cthat was supposed to be Gruhnd¡¯s job. So I¡¯d have to grab him as well, and then fend off who-knows-how many dwarves.


    My thoughts were cut short, however, as another voice¨Cthis one far more jovial¨Cinterrupted the tension.


    ¡°Ho, brother!¡± another dwarf¨Cthis one exactly identical to Skarn¨Csaid as he sauntered over from the same direction as Skarn, a wide grin on his face. He looked at our group with a raised brow, but his intervention served to separate Olfred and Skarn. ¡°What¡¯s the issue here? You looked about to come to blows.¡±


    ¡°These four are traveling without explicit orders from their lord,¡± Skarn said sternly, glaring at the magma mage in front of him. ¡°And when pressed, they refuse to provide them. They¡¯re suspicious, Hornfels, and I¡¯m feeling compelled to take them in for questioning. If they¡¯re really on an errand for their House, they can complain tomorrow.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s face flushed a deep crimson with anger¨Cand though I knew it was faked, considering his intent radiated a strange sense of focus, I still felt myself almost believing it. ¡°You¡¯d dare take in the escorts of House Ruthsen on baseless accusations?¡± he asked, pointing a finger at Skarn and raising his voice. There weren¡¯t many people out and about, but I was certain the noise he was making would attract attention. ¡°Earthborn or not, you won¡¯t be able to get away with this. I swear it!¡±


    Hornfels Earthborn¨Cfor who else could the twin to Skarn be?¨Cstepped in front of Olfred¡¯s finger, raising both hands in a placating gesture as he looked between his brother and Olfred. ¡°Now, now, there¡¯s no need to jump straight to threats. Why did you refuse to produce your papers for him, though?¡± he prodded. He sounded far more calm¨Calmost happy, but the way his intent focused told me that, while his attitude wasn¡¯t a fa?ade, he was just as on guard as his brother.


    Olfred clenched and unclenched his fists, his eyes darting between the two dwarves. ¡°It¡¯s not necessary to do so, is it?¡± he said, his voice sounding more nervous and unsure.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Hornfels replied honestly. ¡°But times are rough right now. If you can¡¯t give us a good reason, then we will have to take you into custody. I¡¯m sure with your connections you¡¯d be out within a day, but you¡¯re clearly trying to avoid notice by heading out so late in the evening,¡± he said knowingly. ¡°But which one will attract more attention to your House Ruthsen? Being accosted here and forcing your family to extend themselves, or telling us what we need to know?¡±


    Olfred looked between the twin dwarves, his brows wrinkling in thought. He gave the perfect appearance of thinking over Hornfels¡¯ offer, and he even added a nervous glance back to me to cement the effect.


    ¡°He is a phenomenal actor,¡± Aurora commented. ¡°I know your book of prophecy commented on this aspect of his character, but to see it firsthand is something else.¡±


    Internally, I agreed. Where at first I¡¯d felt worried that this would devolve into outright combat, as Olfred began to speak and take control of the situation¨Ceven though, outwardly, it didn¡¯t appear that was what he was doing¨Cmy own confidence had returned. I had a feeling we¡¯d be getting out of this situation free.


    Olfred licked his lips and wrung his hands nervously. ¡°Lady Ruthsen has¡­ need of a specific elixir,¡± he said slowly, his eyes darting to anywhere but Hornfels, ¡°that is only produced in Blackbend City. The humans made it first, but she needs it now, and cannot afford to wait. The human we have with us is our contact to get the drug.¡±


    At Olfred¡¯s words, Skarn¡¯s brow furrowed even deeper. The creases across his skin appeared deep enough that a dwarven city could be constructed in the folds, and his suspicion redoubled. ¡°And what, precisely, is your mistress trying to get drugs for?¡± he demanded. ¡°We can take you in for that alone, Ruthsen.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not illegal,¡± Olfred shot back defensively. ¡°We need stingnettle syrup, damn you,¡± he snapped, flaring his mana for good measure. ¡°If you''re so insistent on trying to wrangle us, know the repercussions will be even deeper if you try and accuse our lady of anything uncouth. Sometimes, it''s just good to be sure and have a supply in stock.¡±


    At Olfred¡¯s words, Skarn¡¯s suspicious face shifted to one of obvious disbelief. Hornfels¡¯ eyes widened perceptibly, and most surprising of all, Aurora squawked in disgust within my mind.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Hornfels said, sounding suddenly very embarrassed. He looked at his brother uncertainly. ¡°That is¡­ Huh.¡±


    Skarn didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he stared at Olfred, even as the man glared right back. I felt dreadfully lost in the middle of this conversation. Clearly, I was missing some important context. What was stingnettle syrup, exactly?


    Hornfels coughed into his fist, his face flushing as he wilted slightly from Olfred¡¯s glare. ¡°As you were, then,¡± he said dismissively, nodding. ¡°Just¡­ show us a crest of your family, and you¡¯ll be free to go get your, uh¡­ drug.¡±


    With a scoff, Olfred reached into his jacket, withdrawing a sigil from the folds. He flashed it to the Earthborn twins, earning an even more embarrassed squint from Hornfels and a deeper glare from Skarn.


    Acting visibly affronted, Olfred swiveled on his heels, stalking back along the pathway. As Gruhnd, Borzen, and I trailed along behind him, the dwarf snapped back to the two brothers.


    ¡°My mistress will hear of this,¡± he barked indignantly. Steam practically seeped from his ears. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I let you off easy from this. But we won¡¯t let this humiliation stand.¡±


    I had to give it to the man. His performance was spot on. We continued to trek toward the portal, and this time we weren¡¯t interrupted along the way.


    When we were far enough away that I was certain we wouldn¡¯t be heard, I finally forced myself to speak. ¡°So, what exactly was that about?¡± I whispered. Borzen, obviously curious too, leaned in closer. Gruhnd didn¡¯t seem to care, his eyes fixed forward and his long mustaches shifting.


    ¡°House Ruthsen is part of the rebellion,¡± Olfred whispered back, not turning around. ¡°And I have their official crest, of course, to act as a cover.¡±


    ¡°But that part about stingnettle syrup?¡± I questioned. ¡°What exactly is that? And why did it have such an¡­ effect on those two?¡±


    I could almost feel Aurora¡¯s indignation in my head at the mention of that drug. Whatever it was.


    ¡°Stingnettle syrup is a mana-laced drug that makes every sensation feel exceptionally potent,¡± Borzen said. ¡°I¡¯ve heard it''s made and distributed around Sapin¡¯s southern border, but old King Glayder outlawed it for sale amongst his own citizens. But it''s normally used as a pleasure drug, I¡¯ve heard. To enhance the¡­ sensation,¡± he said awkwardly. ¡°Don¡¯t see how that ties into all this.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s lips curled into a wry, almost devious grin as he trodded forward. There was an almost satisfied tinge to his voice as he responded. ¡°Lady Ruthsen has a reputation for¡­ how should I put it?¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°Wantonness,¡± he said with a bit of repressed amusement. ¡°And to add to that reputation, her husband¨Cthe Lord Ruthsen¨Cis currently stationed in the flying castle. Which means he isn¡¯t here.¡±


    Gruhnd laughed aloud as all the pieces clicked together, and my own brow rose in surprise. Olfred had effectively concocted an intelligent strategy to throw off suspicion by using one of the oldest tricks in the book. Make yourself look guilty, but not of what people might initially suspect.


    ¡°You do realize you just set up one of our allies to appear like they¡¯re having illicit affairs in the middle of the night?¡± I asked, wondering how that would factor into all this. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine they¡¯ll be happy.¡±


    ¡°Bah,¡± Olfred dismissed, his joviality dipping into something a bit darker. ¡°The Ruthsens are pitiful bastards. This would hardly be the worst thing the Lady of their House has done in this city. If anything, I should¡¯ve made the rumors more damning. But that doesn¡¯t matter now,¡± he said gruffly, his eyes forward. ¡°The portal is here.¡±


    I pulled myself from my thoughts, looking up in slight surprise. Our hanging bridge of stone was converging on a massive stalactite¨Ceasily forty feet in diameter. The inside had been hollowed out, revealing a chamber I assumed held the portal.


    I took a deep breath as I settled my nerves. The hardest part was over. Now to enact our plan.

 Chapter 198: Taking from Them

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    A small line greeted us as we approached the massive stalactite that held the portal. Aurora¡¯s relic sat on my shoulder as we got closer, the starlike eyes of her construct illuminating the dark cavern.


    With a bare flex of my mana, I enveloped our small group in a sound shroud. The air oscillated slightly from the application of my power, but with my level of control, I knew none would be able to sense it.


    ¡°Is the signal ready?¡± I asked Borzen, keeping my eyes forward.


    ¡°It is,¡± the dwarf replied, running a nervous hand through his red hair. ¡°The troops we have stationed across the city are waiting for our call. And I assume your Scythe is ready to play her part too, Toren?¡±


    I nodded slowly. A small contingent from the Alacryan fleet of steamships was sailing near the mouth of the Grand Mountain Strait, ready to close in and block off any attempted assistance to the Darvish cause by sea. Seris was there, of course, waiting on my mark.


    But the primary actors in this particular conflict wouldn¡¯t be us Alacryans¨Cand that was by design. This was a dwarvish cause, and the dwarves would be the driving force behind it. ¡°She¡¯s on standby as well.¡±


    Borzen looked toward the stalactite, taking a deep breath. Gruhnd patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of support. He said something that was¨Cfor the millionth time¨Centirely undecipherable because of his beard.


    ¡°Thanks, friend,¡± Borzen said. ¡°You always know what to say to make these challenges seem less daunting.¡±


    Gruhnd said something that sounded vaguely affirming. Olfred gave us a stern look, his eyes flashing like dark coals.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be moving as planned shortly,¡± he said in a gruff voice. ¡°Stick to the plan, and things should go swimmingly.¡±


    As we reached the back of the line, I finally spotted the portal a ways ahead. A few dwarven guards, each wrapped from head to toe in solid steel armor, stood grimly on either side of the stone frame. Another mage stood in front, inspecting those in line to pass through the teleportation gate.


    As people approached the guards on either side of the stone frame, they were instructed to show identification, and for good measure, lift up their shirts to display their lower backs. Afterward, they were waved on through the portal without issue.


    My brow furrowed in confusion. It appeared that the guard was checking for spellforms¨Cbut as far as I knew, it shouldn¡¯t yet be common knowledge amongst the Dicathian military that all mages bore a rune on their lower backs. It was only after Arthur ascended to white core that he discovered this information.


    It¡¯s a small discrepancy, I thought as I followed after Olfred, but has huge implications. Did something change because of me, or was this knowledge commonplace beforehand?


    As our group neared the gates, I banished those thoughts. I needed to be in the headspace for battle, not contemplation. Aurora¡¯s relic trilled softly on my shoulder, reinforcing my words.


    We finally reached the head of the line after a few minutes. The dwarven officiant¨Ca pot-bellied man with a bulbous nose¨Cdroned on as he scribbled on his clipboard. ¡°Identification and destination,¡± he said, his monotone voice clearly exhausted from a long day¡¯s work.


    ¡°Cladence Ruthsen,¡± Olfred said, flashing the same identification he¡¯d used with the Earthborn twins. ¡°And we¡¯re all off to Blackbend City.¡±


    The officiant nodded, his glazed eyes noting all four of us. ¡°I¡¯ll need to see your lower back,¡± the man said. ¡°Just lift up your shirt so I can see the base of your spine.¡±


    Olfred turned, raising his roughspun tunic slightly to prove he didn¡¯t have any runes. When the officiant scribbled something on their notepad, he looked back at us. ¡°I¡¯ll wait by the portal frame for you to get through with this,¡± he said simply, but I saw how his eyes flashed knowingly. ¡°So we can all go through together.¡±


    The officiant waved him off, and Olfred sauntered toward the large teleportation gate. He waited a bit off to the side, rousing the attention of the guards. They tried to question him, but he gestured animatedly toward us, clearly indicating he was waiting for the rest of his party.


    I felt my nerves rise slightly as Borzen went through the check, then Gruhnd. They proceeded to move toward Olfred, lounging noticeably close to the guards on either side of the portal.


    I stepped forward next, feeling quiet anticipation running through my body that I had to forcibly suppress. My mouth felt suddenly dry as I faced the officiant.


    ¡°Identification and destination,¡± the dwarf said in the same, utterly bored tone. His eyes lingered on Aurora¡¯s construct, however, and I noticed his brows furrowing in slight confusion.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± I said honestly. ¡°And I¡¯m on my way to Blackbend as well.¡± My signet ring¨Cwhich sat comfortably on my left hand¨Cglimmered in the low light as I held it up to the officiant. ¡°This should be enough for identification, no?¡±


    The dwarf craned his neck to look up at me, a slightly curious cadence to his voice as he spoke again after scribbling words into his pad of paper. ¡°Daen? I don¡¯t recognize that house.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect you to,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°We¡¯re from the coast of the Sehz River, and only recently got back our fortunes. Truth be told, I¡¯m the last of my family,¡± I added with a shrug. The best lies always held a grain of truth. ¡°And why is everyone needing to have their back checked? Is there some sort of disease going around that only shows spots there or something?¡± I asked, trying to sound genuinely curious.


    The dwarf shook his head. ¡°No. Recent word from the Council says that all Alacryan mages have strange tattoos on their backs, so we need to check from now on. Some aren¡¯t happy with the intrusion, but it¡¯s not my decision.¡±


    I nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± I said, feeling a strange looseness in my shoulders as the officiant looked at me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to turn around and raise my shirt. ¡°And I¡¯m sorry about this.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t even have time to widen his eyes in surprise before my fist impacted him solidly in the side, right over his liver. His eyes bulged unnaturally and I felt something in his internals break as my mana-enhanced blow laid him out cold.


    The entire stalactite room erupted into chaos. Using my attack as the signal, my dwarven companions immediately moved into action. The guards near them had barely laid their hands on their weapons, their mouths opening in alarm, before they too were subdued by quick strikes to the head and a particularly brutal kick to the groin from Gruhnd.


    I immediately sensed the mana of a dozen nearby mages stationed all throughout the cavern flaring. A few spells came flying my way from the corners of the room as some more quick-witted soldiers shouted in alarm, quickly understanding what was happening.


    Sensing my quiet request, Aurora¡¯s puppet leapt off my shoulder, beelining for the oncoming spells. I quickly grabbed the tether that connected to her shade¡¯s hands, then shifted it to my core. The djinni relic glowed red-hot as it screeched aloud, the shape twisting and expanding as she unfurled to her full size as it became Vessel form.


    Suddenly, a phoenix-like automaton of solid bronze stood between me and the enemy soldiers. The few spells sent my way splashed harmlessly against her pristine, brassy exterior. She screeched deafeningly, daring the mages to try once more.


    That instant caused the entire chamber to fall still as the sudden intrusion of the massive avian construct caused waves of confusion to assault the already disorganized guards.


    I glanced to the side as I withdrew Inversion from my dimension ring, checking up on my compatriots. Gruhnd was fiddling with a device in his hands as he sat stiffly near the portal frame, clearly working on his part of the plan to change the portal¡¯s destination. Borzen stood protectively near his friend, watching for any spellfire that might target him.


    Olfred watched this all transpire from the sidelines, clenching a hammer made of magma.


    A few of the dwarven soldiers seemed to belatedly realize what Gruhnd was trying to do. They hurled their spells and tried to rush toward him, a maddened frenzy in their movements as they attempted to halt his action.


    But I was faster. I appeared in front of a dwarven augmenter who was covered from head to toe in a layer of solid stone as they tried to reach my comrade, a massive axe emblazoned with runes ready to cleave him in two. Instead, my hand smashed their attack aside with contemptuous ease.


    The dwarf¡¯s arm snapped audibly from my forceful deflection, but I didn¡¯t have time to spare them a more merciful defeat. I twisted, slamming a telekinetic fist into their chest as I used Inversion to deflect the spear of another wayward attacker.


    The axe-wielding augmenter wheezed as I cratered their ribcage, their heartfire flickering weakly to my ears. I knew in the back of my mind that my attack would be fatal if they didn¡¯t receive medical attention, but I didn¡¯t have the time to think it through.


    I used the white-patterned horn of Inversion to deflect another thrust from a spear. The dwarf wielding it had a full helmet that only allowed me to see his eyes, each pupil burning with fear and adrenaline.


    This time I didn¡¯t let my opponent pull back their weapon. I levied my telekinetic emblem as I pulled on the errant spearhead, causing the dwarven soldier to fall off balance.


    And right into the jagged point of my dagger-like weapon. Inversion tore a bloody gash across the dwarf¡¯s stomach, and their eyes widened behind their mask. I felt their intent shift from fear to outright terror as they clutched their stomach, burbling as they tried to keep their insides from spilling out. Those terrified eyes held my own in an uncomprehending manner.


    I¡¯m going to die, they accused. And you¡¯ve killed me.


    But I couldn¡¯t afford to stay in one place at all. To even think of my actions. Even as I felt the simmering heartfires of my opponents, I needed to constantly move to try and protect Gruhnd from the errant blasts of chaotic spellfire and desperate attacks of Dicathians.


    Aurora¡¯s massive relic blockaded the bridge to the stalactite, her screeches and bursts of plasma acting as more than a deterrent to most that tried to approach. Olfred¡¯s earth golems battled any dwarves who got close to the portal, and the man himself buried more than a few men and women who dared approach him.


    But by now, an alarm bell was sounding throughout the cavern of Burim, declaring that the teleportation gate was in danger.


    Exactly as planned. Yet even as a ringing alarm echoed throughout the cave, I heard as a slowly pulsing heartfire evaporated into the din, a painful void of intent taking its place. Somehow, that lack of sound was louder than anything the warning bells could create. Someone died¨Cbut from the chaos of battle and my constant efforts to just keep Gruhnd from being overwhelmed, I didn¡¯t know who. Or if I was the one to deal the final blow.


    I gritted my teeth, nausea coiling in my stomach even as Inversion embedded itself into the shoulder of an elven soldier, clearly a representative of Elenoir. He screamed in pain as his blood coated my sleeve, dropping his shortsword from where he¡¯d attempted to run me through from behind.


    I ripped my weapon from the meat of his flesh, feeling the terrible intent of my enemies all around me. Not terrible in its fury; no. Terrible in its fear. Terrible in its courage. Terrible in its readiness to die.


    I grabbed the elf¡¯s collar, barely able to process everything. I hurled his body toward the exit of the cavern, watching as he tumbled past Aurora¡¯s relic with a weak cry. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t die from that wound. Maybe he would.


    Even as the meager troops in the stalactite cave were slowly defeated or forced from the portal room, I sensed as the Dicathian response force gradually mustered beyond. At least a few score mages were slowly gathering from all corners of the ceiling-leashed city, swarming toward the stalactite in small groups as they went to arms.


    Gruhnd stepped away from the portal, giving me a solemn nod as he pressed a few buttons on a device in his palm. Even without words, I knew exactly what he was saying. This gate was properly keyed to the portal of the rebellion¡¯s forces elsewhere. Now, all that was left was to send the signal.


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    I exhaled a shuddering breath as the scent of blood and piss scraped against my nose. The heartfires of the dying rumbled in my ears, audible condemnation of my actions. Of my sin.


    I looked down at a body near my feet, feeling my throat constrict for a moment. The spear-wielding dwarf whom I¡¯d practically disemboweled in the heat of combat stared up at me with sightless eyes. Though they no longer pleaded with fear, now they were as deep as a void.


    I killed this man, I thought, my body numb as I stared down at the corpse. I belatedly recognized that I¡¯d been able to sense when he¡¯d finally bled out. When his intent¨Cso potent and real¨Cfinally misted away. Like a candle flame extinguished. He didn¡¯t deserve to die. He was only fighting for what he believed was right. And I took that from him. Took everything from him.


    ¡°Focus, Toren,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice chastised in my head, ripping through my thoughts as she focused on her own task. Her warmth was gone, replaced by the cool grit of a warrior as her voice thundered over our bond. ¡°You are a soldier. And on the battlefield, lamenting for your enemies will get you killed. The time will come to think on your actions, but that time is not now.¡±


    I forcefully pulled my eyes away from the slew of corpses around me, keeping my eyes forward as I slowly plodded toward where my bond blocked the only entrance to the stalactite cavern. She¡¯s right, I chastised myself, even as my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. You resolved yourself to this. To do what you believed was necessary. Remember what Cylrit said to you.


    I trusted Seris. I trusted her vision.


    Olfred passed me as he slowly marched to the entrance of the stalactite cavern. The man began to tie his hair back, smoothing it out in a familiar way. He conjured a bit of fire over his finger, running it over his beard to trim it down artificially.


    In a surprisingly short amount of time, the dwarf¨Cwho used to look like a wayward vagabond¨Cresembled his old self once more. A Lance marched grimly toward the bridge we¡¯d taken to come here.


    Arrayed on the opposite end, what looked like a small army of men and women watched on standby, barely restrained by their commanders. More than a few scorched corpses lay on the bridge, each an unrecognizable, smoking crisp from where my bond¡¯s attacks had struck them. The first soldiers who had attempted to cross the bridge, I assumed.


    ¡°It is a risk to try and attack this location,¡± the phoenix shade thought gravely, the casualties she¡¯d reaped already out of her mind. ¡°This narrow bridge is the only access point for the teleportation gate, meaning their advantage of numbers decreases immensely. And their commanders know that we may be able to field troops from the teleportation gates, further creating a problem. They need to think of a solution fast, and before we can act.¡±


    I leaned against the metallic outline of my phoenix bond. Despite barely having expended any mana or energy, I felt a deep sense of exhaustion thrumming through my bones as I used her solid hull as support.


    ¡°And it''s already too late for them to act,¡± I said, my eyes trailing Olfred as he stepped out onto the bridge.


    A few mages threw spells at him on instinct¨Cbolts of fire, shards of metal, or sickles of earth. But Olfred waved those aside with casual ease, beginning to float as a small army of magma golems slowly appeared around him, pulling themselves from the bridge.


    And immediately, I watched as the many dwarves within the defending contingent cried out in shock and dismay as they recognized their Lance. The intent wafting from the opposing dwarves became murky and uncertain as Olfred stared down at them from above.


    The air held its breath, seeming frozen in time as if by a dragon¡¯s aevum spell.


    ¡°You all know me,¡± Olfred said, his voice echoing through the cavern. ¡°Lance Olfred Warend, leashed to the Triunion Council of Dicathen. I was forced to keep faith with those who cared not for Darv. But no longer,¡± he said, flaring his mana. ¡°I come here not as an envoy of the Alacryans or as a dog to their whims. No, I come here to fulfill my father¡¯s vision of a free Darv. And all of you arrayed against us?¡± He scanned the nervous crowd of soldiers facing him, drawing out their tension like sap. ¡°You stand in our way. Stand aside, and you¡¯ll be allowed on your way. But fight¡­¡±


    Olfred¡¯s words settled over the soldiers¨Cmost of whom were dwarves¨Clike a thick blanket. I thought I could taste the dread and uncertainty that shifted through them at their Lance¡¯s words.


    It was brilliant, really. The forces of Dicathen weren¡¯t even given time to react before each of Seris¡¯ planned moves systematically decimated their defenses and morale. These citizens of Burim were facing their very own Lance in battle. Not to mention, his sheer power as a white core mage was intimidating enough, but this was a lot like fighting your own mascot¨Cif your mascot could summon legions of soldiers crafted from molten rock and crater your face in with a bare flick of his wrist.


    A dwarf I vaguely recognized bullied his way to the front of the opposing line, glaring daggers up at the hovering Olfred. ¡°We don¡¯t submit to the whims of traitors,¡± Skarn Earthborn snarled, hefting his axe as he pointed it up at the former general. ¡°If ya think it¡¯ll be so easy to take our home from us with your lies, you¡¯re wrong, Warend.¡±


    With those words of defiance, Olfred shook his head with disappointment. ¡°This city is my home too,¡± he said. ¡°And that¡¯s why I fight here and now.¡±


    Olfred began to gather his mana, preparing to fight as a coating of magma slowly seeped over his body. The nervous and morale-deprived forces of Dicathen across from him were slow to react, a few rushing across the bridge in an attempt to get to the portals.


    The Lance¡¯s magma golems met them halfway, holding the bridge with relative ease as they clashed with soldiers on the narrow walkway. But I knew they¡¯d break through soon.


    I turned around, looking back at Borzen. In his hand was his communication artifact, ready to send the signal to the dwarves throughout Burim. I nodded to him.


    He pressed the button.


    And chaos erupted¨Cbut not on our side. As soon as the silent pulse of mana radiated from Borzen¡¯s little artifact, it was as if a grenade went off within the center of the Council line as more than a few dwarves¨Cthough insubstantial to the total whole¨Cturned on their commanders. I watched with grim eyes as rebels revealed themselves, throwing themselves at their former commanders in suicidal charges. Cries of ¡°Darv!¡± and ¡°Dicathen!¡± echoed out as blood sprayed.


    But the massacre had barely begun. Rebel dwarven soldiers streamed from the portal in droves, flooding over the bridge and chanting war cries as they supported their Lance. The cavern, which had been a picture of strange calm as Olfred spoke a minute before, became awash with the sound of clashing steel, roaring spellfire, and shattering stone.


    Aurora¡¯s relic surged forward, flying above the rabble before screaming her defiance. She exhaled a beam of plasma, cutting through a swath of Dicathians too slow to defend themselves. A wing with feathers sharp as knives served as her shield as spellfire rained down on her, but I knew she could handle herself.


    I threw myself forward into the fray, ignoring the biting disgust that burbled in my stomach. Even though our numbers were far fewer, the loyalist forces were retreating at astounding speed from the onslaught of the rebels, tracking over bridges and giving up ¡®ground¡¯ at a breakneck pace.


    I marched with Olfred¡¯s magma golems and the roaring Darvish rebels as the loyalists slowly fell back. They still threw themselves at our approaching line, but none made it past my position.


    Time fell away as my blood thundered in my ears. My only dictate became adrenaline as my shrouded saber reaped the lives of any who tried to test themselves against me. But every unnamed soldier I slew, every masked man I ended, made the next step I needed to take a hundred times weightier. But I was a cog in the machine; a single point on a stretching line.


    I tried to be merciful with my attacks. Tried to leave those I fought alive. But in the heat of battle and the necessity of fighting for my life, I knew I failed. The air stank of blood and shit as bodies fell from the ledges of stone to the cavern floor far below, never to be seen again. With every man that fell, their eyes accused me. Condemned me, even as they vanished into the blackness.


    ¡°Toren!¡± my bond¡¯s voice thundered through my head, ripping me from my savagery. I blinked, realizing now how many corpses surrounded me. Somehow in the chaos, I¡¯d become separated from the main line of battle. In the haze, I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d slaughtered an entire division. At least ten men lay at my feet, every single one of their heartfires slowly drifting away.


    I can heal them, I thought, staring at a boy not much older than me. He was curled around a gut wound I¡¯d given him, crying for his mother as he slowly died. Soldiers lay around him in heaps. Were they friends before? Family? Did he have a lover amongst them that I killed? I¡¯m a healer. That¡¯s what I can do. I just need to use my heartfire, right? They won¡¯t die.


    I looked down at my hands, calling on my lifeforce. But what I saw made my heart rise to my throat.


    They were covered in blood. So, so much blood. But it wasn¡¯t mine. No. Not my blood. The blood of¨C


    ¡°They¡¯re threatening the portal with a group spell!¡± Aurora cried across my bond, a note of worry in her voice. She used her own emotions to rip away the slow madness I¡¯d found myself drowning in, injecting my mind with a shot of awareness. ¡°I can¡¯t get to them in time! You¡¯re closer!¡±


    Feeling my bond¡¯s mental direction, I turned away from the body of the boy as he died as well, feeling something in me crack as I did so. But what I saw on a faraway platform made my adrenaline resurge once more.


    A small group of dwarven mages were working together on a spell far away, pooling their mana as they began to form a massive boulder. It was still growing, and it was easily forty feet in diameter already. And it was aimed at the massive stalactite that bore the teleportation gate.


    My eyes widened. They¡¯ll destroy it, I realized, my hands clenching around Inversion. Even though they were slick with blood, somehow the horn refused to budge in my grip. I couldn¡¯t let them bring down that stalactite. Inside, Gruhnd and Borzen coordinated with their troops. If it fell, they would die.


    I jumped upward, using a few nearby bridges and lavaducts as anchors as I surged toward the dwarves a couple of hundred feet away. The wind whipped at my hair as I honed in on their location, fire trailing behind me.


    The dwarves noticed me coming. I gathered that most were conjurers from how they were summoning a massive cannonball of compacted earth above them, and from the fact that a few shields of metal and projectiles of magma tried to knock me out of the air. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I thrust a hand forward, creating a pushing shield of telekinetic force that redirected most of the attacks coming my way. A few splinters of metal dug into my arms as they broke through my telekinetic shroud. I shot straight through a fireball twice my size with only a few burns and the ends of my hair singed, but nothing they threw at me was sufficient to ward me away.


    I darted to the side, using a hanging stalactite as a handhold before zipping away as it was peppered with spellfire. The spike of earth fell to the cavern far below with the sound of grinding stone.


    I cocked my hand back, holding Inversion by its knife-point tip. I lined up my sights, honing in on the massive boulder the conjurers were working in tandem to form. Then I threw it with a burst of telekinesis, aiming for a single spot.


    The sound barrier broke as Inversion shot off in a white streak. The mages around cried out in surprise, and then confusion as the horn embedded itself into the outside of the massive boulder with a shattering thunk.


    I arrived barely a second later, lashing myself to the massive spherical stone¨Cwhich was nearly fifty feet across at this point. I was bombarded with a wave of spellfire that ripped my telekinetic shroud to pieces. Scythes of metal opened cuts along my body. Fire scorched my arms, and fists of earth bruised my legs. This close to their origin, each spell was far more potent.


    But I grit my teeth through it all. I imbued my fist with a layer of sound and fire, compressing and condensing the energy as I reared back. More and more mana flowed from my core as I felt a feral snarl stretch across my face. My eyes flashed with repressed fury and barely as I stared at the point where Inversion had embedded into the boulder.


    I yelled in rage as I slammed my fist into the back of my weapon like a hammer driving a nail. With the amount of force I¡¯d imbued, I felt the bones in my arm break and my shoulder strain in its socket as I used undue force. The fire and sound mana built up along my knuckles flowed through Inversion¡¯s structure even as it embedded itself deeper into the stone.


    And then it erupted. My sound mana burst outward from within, wave after wave of vibrating particles smashing together and making the entire boulder shudder. A moment later, an explosion of fire followed it.


    The boulder¨Cweakened by being split by Inversion and the subsequent sound spell¨Cexploded with a deafening sound that seemed to consume the entire cavern. Chunks of flaming rock each the size of a grown man sprayed everywhere like shrapnel, as if dynamite had been set off from within.


    But for all that the boulder was dangerous to the stalactite, it was far more deadly to its own conjurers. A few were flattened by their very own spell, several tons of stone crashing into them and silencing their cries. A few dwarves tried to run away, but the exploding rock obliterated most of the platform, leaving the soldiers to tumble to their deaths below with horrible screams as the darkness swallowed them like a gaping maw. The platform shifted slightly with a groan, cracks running through its entire structure and more than a few holes blown into it.


    My body fell to what was left of the platform below, burning and bleeding from a hundred different wounds. I sank to my knees, staring at the yawning abyss below which I¡¯d condemned these dwarves to for simply trying to protect their home. I heaved for breath as my heartfire slowly washed my wounds away, leaving me feeling drained and exhausted.


    Then I vomited over the edge, tears clouding my vision. Distantly, I could hear the sounds of battle far away¨Cthe battle I¡¯d left behind. But that sound was drowned out by the utter emptiness of the place I now knelt. My hand clenched my chest, feeling where my heart beat in erratic pulses.


    And so it was that I barely avoided the swing of an axe as it nearly cut off my head. I acted on instinct, calling toward the only thing I could to give me comfort. With an effort of will, I called out to Inversion, honing in on that strange bond I had with it. It shot toward my hand in an outline of white just as I spun, preparing to drive it into my assailant.


    Inversion sank into my enemy easily enough. Skarn Earthborn coughed up blood as my dagger pierced his mana core, burying itself deep. He dropped the axe he¡¯d tried to use to cut off my head, a bloody hand scratching at my arms as he sank to his knees, glaring up at me with hatred and fury as he slowly bled out.


    I watched, feeling a strange sense of detachment as the dwarf slowly died. I heard his lifeforce as it slowly evaporated on his blood, seeping away like water out of a punctured wineskin. My hands fell limp as I watched the dwarf die.


    He was dead. Someone I¡¯d read about. Someone I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d journeyed with. I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d killed¡­


    ¡°Brother!¡± a mournful, heartwrenching voice called out, the ambient mana suddenly sick with panic and fear. I slowly, painfully raised my head, feeling as if I were a corpse myself.


    Hornfels Earthborn, twin brother to Skarn Earthborn, stared at the body of his brother with wide, broken eyes.

 Chapter 199: Death of Brotherhood

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Hornfels didn¡¯t even seem to notice me. The blonde dwarf¡¯s eyes were entirely focused on the body of his dead twin, unaware of my existence. He looked like he¡¯d been put through a blender¨Chis hair was burned in patches, a deep cut stretched across his jaw, and standing out on his bare shoulder was a dark bruise. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The dwarf tumbled forward, kneeling at his brother¡¯s body. His hands reached out in a painfully familiar way as he tried to staunch the bleeding over Skarn¡¯s mana core. ¡°Come on, brother,¡± he wheezed, his voice breaking. ¡°Please, not like this. No! You¡¯re fine. You¡¯re okay! This¡­ This is nothing!¡±


    The words themselves were a statement, but they echoed into the din of the cavern as a silent plea.


    The blood slowly drained from my face as Hornfels¡¯ intent washed over me. I stumbled back, tears gathering at the edges of my vision as it assaulted me from all sides. It hit me like a hundred hammer blows constantly falling, grinding the nails of truth deeper into my flesh. The grief¨Cthe familiar denial and bitter terror. The pain of having a brother wrenched from you before your eyes.


    I bit back a sob as I stepped backward, twofold grief and guilt assaulting me and making my head swim. I blinked, and suddenly it wasn¡¯t Hornfels mourning the body of Skarn. No, I saw myself kneeling over Norgan¡¯s body, trying desperately to quell the flow of blood as it leaked from his sternum. My vision flashed red, the two images overlapping in an impossible truth.


    I tripped over a jutting bit of rubble, my vision shaking as painful, raw memories tore their way through my skull like liquid fire. I fell hard on my tailbone, a jutting rock slicing through my leg as I struck it.


    The sound of my fall seemed to rip Hornfels Earthborn from his grief. He looked toward me with familiar eyes. Eyes that had just lost everything and saw no reason to exist.


    I bore those eyes, once, I thought, feeling the urge to vomit once more as Hornfels held my gaze like a cruel vise.


    Aurora sensed my emotions. She felt my grief. My panic. My confusion and disgust. She felt my madness. I could vaguely hear her as she tried to speak to me; tried to pull me away. But I¡­ I couldn¡¯t. My thoughts flowed like tar as I stared at the man I¡¯d just stolen a brother from.


    And then Hornfels seemed to understand. He roared in bestial rage as he grabbed his dead brother¡¯s axe¨Cthe same one that had nearly relieved me of my head¨Cand threw himself at me like a rabid animal.


    I scrambled to the side, all form and technique gone as I clawed myself away on pure instinct. Skarn¡¯s axe embedded itself into the ground, sending chips of stone and waves of mana all around in a whirlwind. Those shards of stone opened small cuts all along my body, but that was inconsequential as I pulled myself to my feet.


    Hornfels turned wild eyes toward me, his face locked into a rictus snarl. He swung that axe at me again, the blade heavy and laden with earth mana. I barely deflected it with the edge of Inversion, all my martial forms abandoning me.


    Suddenly, I was the same Toren from nearly a year ago. The Toren who had watched his brother die to an unknown enemy, forced to watch helplessly. At that moment, I didn¡¯t know any martial arts. I didn¡¯t have any knowledge of mana or self-defense. I was just as wild as the dwarf across from me as he tried to crater in my skull.


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡± Hornfels bellowed, his cry wrought with grief. He bore no technique either as he tried to avenge his twin. ¡°You fucking monster!¡±


    The edge of his axe clipped my side, drawing a line of blood and sending me tumbling down. I rolled to the side, barely avoiding the edge as it nearly took off my head. I swung Inversion, my breathing coming in rasps as I tried to ward off my attacker.


    Hornfels screamed in pain as the point of my weapon scraped across his arm. In response, he grabbed my right hand, slamming it down to the ground. Then he hefted the axe, roaring a battle cry as he brought it down.


    For a few moments, I couldn¡¯t feel anything. Then, only pain. Roaring fire trailed up my arm as my hand was severed from my wrist by the axe. I screamed in agony, clutching at the stump of my wrist as it pumped blood.


    Hornfels threw the axe away, snarling as his meaty hands wrapped around my throat. They squeezed, cinching like a vise as he slowly cut me off from the air.


    ¡°This is for my brother,¡± he snarled, his eyes flashing as he stared down at me. I clawed uselessly at his hands, spraying them with my blood as my wrist continued to leak crimson fluid. I found it hard to focus through the pain; hard to fight.


    My vision slowly darkened around the edges as the bloodflow to my brain was cut off. My struggles slowed, even as my heartbeat thundered in my ears. All I could see above me was a mirror image of myself, taking vengeance on Kaelan Joan for their brutality.


    Then I heard something. A buzzing as a wave of unrelenting heat passed overhead, a combination of fire and sound roaring above me.


    The hands gripping my neck loosened suddenly, and light streamed back into my vision.


    Hornfels was staring wide-eyed down where his chest used to be. A massive, scorched hole smoldered where his sternum had once been, clearly the result of some sort of attack. He looked back down at me, a sense of utter despair taking hold of his eyes.


    Then he toppled off of me, falling like a wet sack to the stones with a dead thump. His roaring, grief-filled intent was gone. His heartfire evaporated.


    Aurora¡¯s massive relic crashed into the platform a bare second later, her worry and care flooding my mind as she moved over. ¡°Toren, your hand,¡± she said sternly, her massive beak grabbing something from the stones nearby. ¡°You need to stop the bleeding. You can¡¯t afford to let it keep going. Tend to yourself, my son!¡±


    The massive phoenix construct shuffled over, dropping something into my lap. I blinked slowly, recognizing what I was staring at.


    My hand.


    I numbly, emptily grabbed my own severed hand with my left, holding it to my still-bleeding wrist. I engaged my heartfire healing a moment later, watching with empty eyes as the limb slowly reattached.


    ¡°Toren,¡± my bond said quietly, sensing the void in my mind. The platform, already so damaged from my earlier attacks, groaned as the large avian construct weighed down upon it. ¡°Toren, look at me,¡± she demanded.


    I didn¡¯t hear her. I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away from Hornfels¡¯ corpse, his eyes set in a last look of despair. For that moment, my entire world was just this platform, where the bodies of brothers accused me in a rictus of death.


    Aurora¡¯s massive relic interposed itself between me and the body, blocking my sight. She didn¡¯t say anything, just wrapped me in her massive wings. I felt myself melt as I fell into her comforting embrace.


    But inside, something broke.


    Olfred Warend


    I marched forward, Hell¡¯s Armor shielding me in its protective cover. My armor of magma shrugged off any spells that came my way throughout the battle, deflecting and dispersing anything that tried to hurt me. Behind me, a small army of magma golems stepped forward unerringly.


    My eyes were trained on one of the largest structures in Burim. The bridge I walked across threaded toward it, slowly but surely. All around me, the sound of battle and dying men echoed. Far across the bridge, my final quarry waited, putting up their last stand.


    An older elf worked with an armored dwarf to weave a joint spell. The two conjurers funneled more and more mana into their spell, the ambient air reacting and swelling with their focus. I watched as a massive whirlwind grew around the defenders, shards of metal interwoven within.


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    Then they sent it rumbling along the bridge, a path torn through the stone as it sought my life.


    Two of my magma golems stepped in front of me, raising massive shields of molten stone. The spell hit them, slowly weathering away their forms. I watched with narrowed eyes as they fought against the onslaught of mana.


    But they held. Gradually, the torrent of wind dispersed against my guardians, unable to break them. They were significantly damaged, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    I reached my hand out, calling to my summons through the ambient mana. With an effort of will, I clenched my magma-armored hand shut. My two golems rose into the air, losing their forms as they became amorphous blobs of molten rock.


    I twisted my hand as if I were turning a massive doorknob. The two orbs of magma began to spin under my command, rotating faster and faster. With gritted teeth, they condensed inward, compressing themselves further and further.


    The mages on the other end of the bridge began to stumble backward in fear, scrabbling to get away from whatever attack I was about to use. They cried out in terror, lurching away from their last line of defense.


    A few stood their ground, raising shields and beginning to rush across the bridge to try and stop me. They were met with magma golems themselves, my stalwart guardians standing strong.


    The two compressed spheres arced upward, then fell like burning meteors into the center of the Dicathian resistance. A few mages tried to deflect the attack, but it was no use.


    The spheres of condensed magma exploded outward on contact, liquid stone splashing everywhere in a wave. The shockwave alone obliterated everything it came into contact with, throwing soldiers off the ledge and into the yawning abyss of Burim¡¯s cavern below.


    And still, I marched forward. I spared the poor, fallen souls below a glance, staring into that darkness. I¡¯d grown up in the deepest slums on the cavern floor of Burim, where anarchy reigned. No fires burned bright enough down below to be seen this far above, but I knew that hundreds struggled to survive in the grim darkness, always terrified of a lavatide.


    I pulled myself away from reminiscing about my past, marching onward with my golems as I approached my final destination. I had to compliment that monster that called herself Seris Vritra: she knew how to win a battle. From the very start, each action was perfectly poised to decimate the morale of the loyalists.


    Morale was so, so important in battle. Without high morale, mages would fumble with their spells. Their attacks would be weaker; their shots less sure. They¡¯d fail to act critically when they needed to; they¡¯d cow in the face of greater force.


    And I saw that here. As the outcome of the battle became clear, more and more dwarves simply¡­ stepped aside, allowing the forces of our rebellion through. How many of these people truly were willing to die for the sake of Dicathen?


    As I weathered more spellfire, retaliating with a gyrating hammer of magma, I found myself flashing back to what Toren had told me not long ago. That Agrona would not give the dwarves what my father so desperately desired.


    But for all that I spoke to these dwarves, I thought, smashing aside a boulder with my arm as it sought my skull, I do this not for them, but for Rahdeas.


    I was free of my Lance artifact. Free, for the first time in a decade. And after I was freed, I had the chance to think for the first time in what felt like years. And eventually, I¡¯d come to a grim conclusion.


    Nobody else would fight for Rahdeas as I could. Elder Shintstone was happy to point at his capture and decry the Council as corrupt and horrid. Perhaps Toren Daen might extend himself to try and rescue my father from his captors, but he was ultimately limited by that Scythe.


    And that monster wouldn¡¯t act for Rahdeas. Not unless I made it worthwhile.


    I finally reached the edge of my destination. A large divot was dented into the ceiling, easily one hundred feet across. All along the rim of the inverted crater, dwarven houses of opulent design were etched into the walls.


    This was the safest point in the entire city. After all, lava would never reach this far during the periodic tides. And so it was that it acted as the headquarters for the leader of the city¨Cand in this case, the final garrison of the military leaders of Burim.


    I stepped off the platform, allowing myself to fall for a moment before the mana buoyed me upward. I flew into the center of the crater, noting all the mages prepared to face me; each and every one preparing their last stand on the edges of the inverted dent.


    ¡°Surrender!¡± I bellowed, my armor flaring with orange light as I yelled. My voice bounced around the cavern, echoing a hundred times over and seeming to grow deeper with every second passed. ¡°Surrender, and you shall be allowed to go free! All who fight against Darv will face my hammer, but those who give themselves up willingly will be spared!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a fool, Warend,¡± a voice called out in response. It was cracked and worn with age, but still surprisingly strong. I recognized it.


    I turned in the air, focusing on one of the larger platforms. Focusing mana into my eyes, I saw who had called out to me.


    Vuhmeg Lonuid was an old dwarf: one of the oldest known. He¡¯d retired from fighting two decades ago, and even then he¡¯d been ancient. A silver beard¨Claced with braids and various trinkets¨Cstretched over his thin frame reaching nearly to his knees. He bore no hair on his head, leaving his deeply wrinkled scowl free to face me.


    He must have been a mighty warrior once, and he was one of the few silver core mages I knew that had nearly lived their entire lifespan. But now he held a metal cane for support, hunched over as he stared at me.


    This was exactly the dwarf I needed to talk to. Elder Vuhmeg had been placed in charge of Burim by the Triunion Council at the start of the war, and he¡¯d held it since.


    ¡°Elder Vuhmeg,¡± I said with begrudging respect as I hovered closer. All around, the mages poised to protect him leveled their wands and weapons at me, the stench of fear heavy in the air. ¡°I repeat myself. Surrender your city and all shall be spared. We don¡¯t come for conquest and pillaging, only to assert our station in this world.¡±


    The elder was silent as he stared up at me, leaning on his cane for support. ¡°You say that, Warend,¡± he countered, his voice surprisingly strong despite his frail appearance. ¡°But you¡¯ve invited the Alacryans to our doorstep. Allowed rot to seep into the minds of our people.¡±


    ¡°The Alacryans were not involved in the capture of this city,¡± I replied. ¡°None of their troops assist us. It is only the people of Darv who fuel our drive.¡± Except for Toren Daen, I amended, but I wasn¡¯t going to tell Vuhmeg that.


    I floated closer. The mages around Elder Vuhmeg charged their spells, ready for a last stand. The old dwarf simply tapped his cane irritably. ¡°Don¡¯t attack, you idiots,¡± he said scathingly. ¡°Do you want to die so readily? Put down your weapons.¡±


    The officers and captains around the man¨Cdwarf, elf, and human alike¨Cstared at Vuhmeg Lonuid apprehensively, clearly nervous and terrified, but they followed their leader¡¯s orders reluctantly.


    ¡°If what you say is true, then the only blood being spilled is that of the good people of Darv,¡± the aged man said, the trinkets in his long silver beard tinkling as he shook his head. ¡°The only lives lost today were from Dicathen. Don¡¯t you see it, Warend? They¡¯re using you.¡±


    I settled down onto the platform, my hammer of magma pulsing rhythmically. The mages shied back from me, fear radiating from them in waves. Yet I had to applaud their courage: Vuhmeg¡¯s guards refused to leave his side, even as I approached.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of time to wax poeticand wane when this battle is over,¡± I said gruffly, brushing off his words. I knew the Scythe was using me. I was used to being a tool for everyone powerful I came across, even before I became a Lance. The only person who didn¡¯t treat me as one was Rahdeas. ¡°Do you surrender this city, Elder?¡±


    I stared into the dwarf¡¯s misty blue eyes for a long, pregnant pause. We both knew this was his only option. The rebellion¡¯s forces had spread all throughout Burim and had dealt a critical blow to the forces here right at the start. For all intents and purposes, the rebels had already won. Vuhmeg simply needed to admit it to make it official.


    The hunched, elderly man laughed. It was a bitter, cynical sound that resounded over the dying sounds of battle. ¡°I suppose you leave us no choice, do you?¡± he said, shaking his head and closing his eyes. ¡°I surrender this city to you, Olfred Warend. I hope you do not live to regret your actions here.¡±


    Some of the men and women around the dwarf cried out in shock, but most simply lowered their heads in defeat. I marched forward, my armor falling away and being reabsorbed into the stone beneath me. I looked down at the elderly dwarf.


    ¡°Then I declare this city captured in the name of the true dwarves of Darv,¡± I said after a moment, inspecting the elder whom I respected. ¡°Everyone present shall be taken into custody until further notice.¡±


    As my golems of stone pulled themselves from the nearby rock and roughly clasped the arms of the nearby nobles and military leaders in earthen cuffs, I found myself planning for what came next after this. A few of the nobles ranted about the power of their House and what would happen to me for daring to touch them, but my golems socked those in the stomach.


    There were no complaints after that.


    A few minutes later, a small contingent of rebels led by Jotilda Shintstone finally reached the Crater. They cheered as they saw the defeated nobility of Burim, shouts of ¡°For Darv!¡± and ¡°Down with the Council!¡± echoing into the din.


    Jotilda strode over to me, her plate armor dented in many places. Her long, silver braid was burned and unkempt. She limped slightly as she strode triumphantly over.


    She smiled as she clapped me on the back. Were I a normal man, I suspected such force would break my back. ¡°Nice work, Warend!¡± she said, uncharacteristically jovial. ¡°What you¡¯ve done here is amazing. And I foresee far more successes in the future!¡±


    Vuhmeg looked at Jotilda with disappointment, his body hunched over his cane. ¡°You¡¯re a part of this too, Shintstone?¡± he said, his breath leaving as a disappointed sigh escaped his lips. ¡°I thought better of you.¡±


    Jotilda scoffed, taking Elder Lonuid roughly by the arm. ¡°You can¡¯t run our country into the ground anymore, old man,¡± she said scathingly, beginning to haul him away. ¡°It¡¯s time Darv ruled itself, and dwarves made decisions for dwarves.¡±


    As Elder Shintstone carted the elderly man away, he turned around to look at me, something deeply sad in his eyes. ¡°This won¡¯t save Elder Rahdeas, Lance Balrog,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°By inviting the Alacryans in, you¡¯ve doomed him to death no matter what.¡±


    Those words haunted me as cheers of victory echoed around me, sinking into my flesh and gripping my heart just as much as the Lance tether ever did.

 Chapter 200: Adieu to Innocence

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    The tide seemed unnaturally still as my steamship coasted into the harbor of Burim Bay. The engine deep within puffed toxic fumes into the air, a legion of black smokestacks behind me heralding the Alacryan advance.


    Cliffs loomed high above me, the canyon walls of the mouth of the Sehz River seeming eager to swallow our ships whole. A massive cavern ate into the side of one of the cliffs, just barely revealing the city far within.


    Burim was admittedly impressive from afar. From where we docked, I could see the points where magma continuously flowed into the ocean after every lavatide, cementing into more and more land. Yet the sole harbor of Darv was set a ways away from the core of their city: after all, if it were too close to the mouth of the cavern, it risked being overrun with magma whenever the lavatides struck.


    A true marvel of engineering, I thought appreciatively. To take what should have been an impossible circumstance and twist it into one of their greatest strengths¡­ I suppose I must commend these dwarves for their ingenuity.


    I¡¯d received regular updates on the status of the battle within the cavern on my communication artifact. A small contingent of our steamship fleet¨Csmall enough that we could effectively skirt around detection from Dicathian scouts¨Chad been stationed near one of the exit points of the Grand Mountain Strait. We¡¯d hidden in the shadow of the Earthmother¡¯s Isle¨Cthe sole island past the Grand Mountains that created the strait. And perhaps an hour past, I¡¯d received final confirmation of the city¡¯s capture.


    ¡°Cylrit,¡± I said to my Retainer at my side, ¡°tend to the ships and secure their landing. Ensure they are anchored safely and securely, and that no remnant Dicathians attempt to sabotage them.¡±


    My trim Retainer nodded shortly, keeping his gaze forward. I knew, deep down, that I could always trust him to follow through.


    I hovered off the bow of the steamship, allowing the ambient mana to carry me aloft. The sea wind whipped at my hair as I flew toward the yawning mouth of Burim. The opening in the cliffside seemed like the den of a predator, but no predator within could match me.


    I entered the jaws of the cave, my eyes tracing the stalactites that hung from the ceiling. Remnants of battles hard-fought still lingered. Wisping eddies of mana and spellfire drifted across my senses, telling a tale of their own. The scent of smoke and blood was heavy in the air. I knew from experience that the scent would diminish after a few days¨Cas it always did in the aftermath of war. But the scars on the people would last far longer.


    The dwarves stopped and stared at me as I slowly flew through the cavern. Those stares¨Cmost filled with fear and apprehension¨Cbecame my armor as I gradually floated toward the central crater of Burim. It had been half a century since the Redfeud War, but the similarities I witnessed were striking.


    There is one true constant in war, I thought grimly. And that is sacrifice.


    Olfred Warend was waiting for me on one of the central platforms within the city. My high heels made no sound as they settled onto the hard stone, grounding themselves once more.


    ¡°Scythe,¡± Lance Balrog said, his wariness writ clear on his face.


    ¡°Lance,¡± I replied primly. ¡°I take it your endeavors here have been successful?¡±


    The dwarf snorted. ¡°Aye, you could say that,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve rounded up the former leadership of Burim. They¡¯re under the watch of Jotilda Shintstone, and the city now belongs to the rebellion.¡±


    I felt a rising sense of pity somewhere far in the depths of my soul as my gaze panned around, taking in the scene of the dwarves as they hurried about, trying not to look at me. You say it belongs to the rebellion, I thought, looking back at the Lance, but we both know who holds the power here.


    It was a strange thing, that pity. Not so much the emotion itself: more that I allowed myself to feel it at all. My common course was to acknowledge such feelings, then suppress and dismiss them immediately afterward. But for some reason, I was indulging myself just a bit more in the emotion.


    That sent my thoughts on a different track of thought. The reason for this change in myself was easily discernible, but as I quested out with my mana senses¡­


    ¡°We will have to work on an agreement as to the placement of my people,¡± I said to the magma mage before me. ¡±But before that, I must ask. Where is Toren Daen at this moment? He was the sole fighter among our forces that accompanied you in your mission, yet I do not see him here.¡±


    Olfred¡¯s brow rose in surprise at my question, but then his face darkened and his lips pursed. ¡°Now that you mention it,¡± he started slowly, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen Toren for a long while. I saw him and his metallic beast fighting through the city, but I forged on ahead of the main battle group. I would have expected him to report here after the battle was done, but¡­¡±


    My pulse quickened slightly at the dwarf¡¯s words, and a chill ran along my spine. It was irrational, of course. I was certain that Toren was more powerful than any within this cavern barring myself. He would not be in any true danger here. But still, I could not help myself from feeling that spike of worry.


    ¡°You say he has not reported in?¡± I asked sternly, shifting my hands so that they were clasped before my stomach. ¡°When was he last seen? He must be found immediately.¡±


    As I said the words, I withdrew an item from my dimension ring. A small communication artifact settled into my palm¨Ca twin to the one I¡¯d entrusted to Toren. I began to cycle mana into it, attempting to make a connection.


    The Lance ground his teeth. ¡°I shall send word through our troops askin¡¯ for his whereabouts,¡± he said. ¡°I have no doubt Toren Daen is fine, though.¡±


    I felt my worry cement as my communication artifact failed to connect. It was more likely that Toren¡¯s was damaged in battle than anything truly happened to him, but¡­


    ¡°Toren Daen?¡± a voice said questioningly from the side. It sounded almost¡­ sad. ¡°I saw him a ways back. I tried to help him, but he was too far. I didn¡¯t see what finally happened, but¡­¡±


    My neck slowly turned as I focused on the speaker. It was a pot-bellied dwarf with a fiery red beard, standing amidst a small crowd. The onlookers parted like spooked wogarts as my gaze focused on the dwarf like iron.


    ¡°What did you say?¡± I questioned sternly.


    The dwarf stumbled back, clearly not expecting this level of attention. His face paled as my aura flared involuntarily. ¡°I¨C I saw him, Lady Scythe. He destroyed a spell that coulda killed us all. I¨C We¨C We were stationed near the teleportation gate, but they were going to wreck it. He went out. Saved us. But he collapsed to his knees afterward, and someone tried to lop his head off with an axe,¡± he stuttered out, staggering backward.


    I felt the pit fall out of the bottom of my stomach. My mana flared outward, pressing into the atmosphere with the weight of a tombstone. My hands clenched as my eyes widened, my emotions unfurling in my chest. ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± I said, my voice low as the grave and cold as death, ¡°that you watched Toren die?¡±


    My heart beat painfully in my chest as my emotions became messy. Distantly, I was aware that nearly everyone in a fifty-foot radius of me was grasping at their throats, struggling to breathe as the weight of my intent escaped my control. If Toren¡­ If Toren was dead¡­


    One of my first inventions as the Scythe of Sehz-Clar was a viscous, mana-conducting fluid that had the consistency of honey. In that instant, I felt that my thoughts only followed at the speed of that fluid¨Cso slow and uncertain.


    Deep within my core, I felt something dark resurge. All these emotions I felt¡­ I needed to release them. To take them out on something. On someone. I needed to kill.


    Even Lance Balrog was not spared from the tempest of my mana as my inner turmoil pulled itself to the surface. That darkest part of myself¨Cthat vindictive shade of my soul that had ruled me during the Redfeud War¨Cit was here. And it needed¨C


    My thoughts were cut cleanly through as a familiar creature fluttered before me. I blinked, my breathing uneven as I stared at the strange bronze construct. It looked like a bird crafted entirely of bronze, and its eyes burned in an unsettling way.


    It circled around me, crooning piteously. The noise was surprisingly like the puff of the steam engines used within our ships.


    The relic, I realized, my thoughts finally finding purchase. As a stable outcropping of stone lends itself as a foothold to a climber, I finally found a place to anchor my thoughts from their freefall. The relic that Sevren Denoir gifted to Toren. If it is here, then that means¨C


    The construct of burnished bronze darted away as I finally focused on it, flitting back down into the chasm. It looked back at me with those eerie, burning eyes, an intelligence far too deep staring back as it flew away.


    I blinked, settling my breathing. It wants me to follow, I realized, taking a few steps toward the ledge. And if it wants me to follow, then there¡¯s only one place it could be taking me to.


    I¡¯d gradually reined in my intent as I regained control of my thoughts, leaving the dwarves around me gasping for breath and running from me in droves. Only Lance Balrog remained, coughing and hacking. He stared up at me, his eyes blown wide with more surprise than fear.


    ¡°I must go. I¡¯ll be back soon,¡± I said stiltedly, the words uttered faster than I would have preferred.


    I darted up into the sky, surging after the retreating construct of the ancient mages. I knew that item well. After all, I¡¯d been the one to protect Sevren Denoir from the fallout of his theft of the item from the Relictombs. He¡¯d managed to smuggle it past the main inquirers, but hadn¡¯t been aware of the hidden ones at the entrances to the Second Layer. I¡¯d extended myself to erase those reports and readings, granting him a freedom he would never know.


    And then Sevren had given that very relic to Toren Daen. In his hands, it had changed shape from a simple feathered brooch to something remarkably lifelike. That was one of my first indicators that Toren was even more special than I¡¯d first assumed.


    I focused on those thoughts as I followed after the animated relic. I kept an iron grip on my emotions as it led me through the cavern, its avian wings sounding like a thresher as they flapped.


    I sensed him before I saw him. Toren¡¯s mana was always difficult to detect without consciously searching for it: he was good at reining in his presence. But right now, it felt like the beacon of a lighthouse amidst a storm.


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    The relic settled down on a decimated platform, crooning sadly as it nudged the young man¡¯s body.


    I felt my control of my emotions crack as I looked down at Toren. He was leaning against a chunk of stone, his hands splayed limply to the side. In each of his hands was his violin and bow respectively, but there was a defeated cast to that. He barely clutched them.


    His head was hung low, his hair shadowing his face. He radiated an almost palpable aura of quiet despair that made my heart rise in my throat.


    All around him were decimated corpses of dwarves.


    ¡°I can sense them, you know,¡± Toren said softly. ¡°Each and every heartfire.¡±


    I settled down on the platform, walking forward so that I stood over Toren¡¯s limp form. For the first time, I realized that his hands were trembling as they clasped his instrument. The relic on his shoulder crooned mournfully, nuzzling the side of his head with its beak.


    Toren raised his head, looking at me with hollow eyes. He leveraged an arm, pointing off toward one of the other stalactites hanging from the ceiling. ¡°Over there. Three just died. One after the other, their lifeforces went out. Their intent stopped weeping. Just like that¡­ Like a candleflame facing a slight breeze.¡± He tilted his head, his skull lolling to the side. ¡°A fourth, back the way you came. That one was sharp and abrupt. Like an axe splitting wood.¡±


    I stared down at Toren, feeling a solemn sort of dread as it all came together. His hands shook where they held his violin.


    I didn¡¯t know how long I stared down at him, tracing his decimated features. The strange sort of lifelessness that pervaded him.


    Then he chuckled lightly, his shoulders trembling. ¡°And at least a dozen passed away just now, too, far below,¡± he said, sounding amused. ¡°I can¡¯t even tell after a while. It¡¯s not individuals. More like paint being smeared away. And it all just¡­ releases. Like a person is so desperate to feel as much as they can in that last little bit before they¡¯re gone. They scramble to feel everything they can.¡±


    My hands clenched where I kept them clasped, instincts in my chest warring with reason.


    I slowly knelt, my dress soaking up the blood and dust everywhere. I rested on my knees across from Toren, feeling the bitter scrape of the encrusted earth beneath me.


    Toren¡¯s eyes drifted blankly to the side, observing the dead dwarves around us as he refused to meet my eyes. ¡°They were brothers, Seris,¡± he said emptily. ¡°Brothers. Not just soldiers.¡±


    The relic on Toren¡¯s shoulders wilted, seeming to cave in on itself as his arms shook. I felt an overriding sensation I hadn¡¯t felt in decades slowly work through the depths of my soul, pressing against my throat and making my silver tongue feel heavy in my mouth.


    Because I¡¯d done this. It was necessary, of course. Toren could not participate in a war without getting blood on his hands. But that did not push away the sorrow of it all. The innocence lost.


    ¡°Play me a song, Toren,¡± I asked quietly, staring at his violin where he clutched it like a newborn child. ¡°I want to hear your music now. Not about me; not yet.¡±


    I want to know what you feel.


    Toren looked at me with hooded eyes, seeming unable to move anything besides his head. ¡°My hands are trembling, Seris,¡± he said quietly. ¡°They haven¡¯t done that since I was a boy. Before I was a surgeon and a musician. Nothing I can make will be beautiful enough to satisfy you.¡±


    ¡°Play your music anyway,¡± I pushed, reaching a hand out and resting it gently on Toren¡¯s knee. ¡°Let me know what you feel. What every death tastes like, how every loss of life sears your soul. That is all I need. Please.¡±


    In my guise of Renea Shorn, I arrayed countless depictions of war and brutality across my rooms so that I would never forget. Even as a Scythe, Cylrit¡¯s presence served as an eternal reminder of what I needed to be; of what I could become if I let the shackles I kept around my blood loosen.


    But Toren¡¯s music was more than all of those.


    I looked deep into the young man¡¯s eyes, subtly imploring him. I swallowed, feeling strange. I didn¡¯t demand his acquiescence, as I did when I was his Scythe. I just¡­ asked. Pleaded for a song.


    Toren slowly raised his hands, each shaking as if they were supporting a thousand tons of stone. He hesitantly settled his violin against his collar, a bit of dust and blood streaking onto the perfect Clarwood finish as he rested the bow haphazardly against the strings.


    I lowered my head slightly, my hand clenching around Toren¡¯s knee as he took a deep breath.


    And then he began to play.


    It was not music that I heard. It was barely sound at all; more of an attack on my eardrums as Toren¡¯s arms shook. It sounded like the sort of thing a beginner would attempt before immediately discarding the instrument in horror.


    But somehow, it came together to make something that wasn¡¯t ugly. I could sense Toren¡¯s disgust with himself over his music, but I could not see it.


    It wasn¡¯t disgusting. It was terrifying. Terrifyingly beautiful as every drop of intent slammed into me like hot coals.


    Loud, streaking notes were punctuated with fluctuations in Toren¡¯s intent. Of his fear and hatred. Every low dip¨Cdiscordant and off-key¨Cseemed to symbolize another dying life. The kiss of the bow and violin strings weren¡¯t even, melodic timbres. They were the jagged draw of a chipped blade as it tore through flesh, leaving meaty chunks behind instead of a clean cut. The bow and strings fought each other like desperate soldiers seeking a way out instead of two brothers seeking a way forward.


    Perhaps that was ugly. Perhaps it was horrendous. But the message and emotions within were so whole and true that I felt I was seeing war for the first time again. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They were screams of agony that scorched their way through my soul. This symphony of two wrenched old, departed memories from the depths of my psyche, pulling themselves to the fore as the paradoxically beautiful attacks of his music thrummed across my blood.


    Adieu to innocence, I thought, closing my eyes as Toren¡¯s emotions bombarded me in waves. A fitting song.


    Toren Daen


    The next day went by in a blur. A dizzying mix of moving prisoners, shifting positions, and cementing our place in Burim. In the wake of the capture, there had been so much to do¨Ccataloging the city¡¯s resources, allocating positions, ensuring points of entry and exit were watched, and more.


    I went through the motions in half a daze. A distant part of me wondered how this would affect the outcome of the war and my knowledge of the future. But every time I closed my eyes, Hornfels Earthborn¡¯s broken expression burned itself into my retinas.


    I feared becoming my enemies. I¡¯d made oaths to others that I wouldn¡¯t compromise on my ideals, but no matter how many times I went over my actions in my head¨Cno matter how many times I justified why I took the steps I did, all that responded were visions of Hornfels kneeling over Skarn¡¯s body.


    ¡°You aren''t Kaelan Joan,¡± Aurora reaffirmed for the hundredth time, her voice soothing and compassionate as ever. ¡°You did not kill for the sake of killing, Toren. You are not a monster.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond to my bond, even as I felt her phantom hand on my shoulder. My footsteps were heavy as I trudged through Burim¡¯s prison complex. The prison itself was built into the wall of Burim and surrounded by several lavaducts, granting it superb security.


    All around me, the captured nobility of Burim were penned into their cells. Most were cold and dark without any sort of comforts, but a few had been afforded luxuries like blankets and reading material. As I loped through the passageway like a wounded wolf, the eyes of the prisoners seemed to glow as they nervously followed me.


    Seris certainly had plans for these hostages and how to leverage their use against the Dicathian council, but I hadn¡¯t asked. Since she¡¯d comforted me a day ago, I hadn¡¯t seen her. She was too busy ironing out her new position in Burim and ensuring her power was respected.


    I flashed back to when I¡¯d¡­ failed to play my music. For all that I¡¯d experienced, my inability to play even a single cohesive note made something in me crumble. Just from the memory, I needed to force my hands to stop shaking. The wretched sounds that I¡¯d produced could not be called music.


    It was ugly. So, so ugly.


    Will I ever be able to play again? I wondered, my breathing becoming a bit uneven. Or will my hands always tremble when I need them steady? Will I only be able to profess brutality and broken chords?


    I reached the end of Burim¡¯s prison soon enough. Lusul Hercross perked up when he saw me where he was stationed outside of a specific cell, snapping a salute as he came to attention.


    ¡°Sir,¡± he said seriously. ¡°The prisoner hasn¡¯t changed their behavior in the past day. The transition from the caverns was smooth and without issue,¡± he said in a clipped tone.


    I turned tired eyes to Lusul, looking him up and down. He shifted uncomfortably from the focus in my stare. ¡°Thank you, Lusul,¡± I said, my tone coming out weary. I paused for a moment, wetting my suddenly dry lips. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go speak with Elder Shintstone for now? She¡¯s currently looking for people who can help keep the Alacryans and dwarves from tearing each other¡¯s throats out.¡±


    Lusul shifted nervously, his nearly pink eyes darting to the cell behind him. ¡°Apologies, sir, but who will watch the prisoner in my absence?¡±


    ¡°¡®I¡¯ll be speaking with the prisoner for the time being,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°Feel free to return in an hour or so. Am I clear?¡±


    Sensing the weight in my words, the Hercross gulped. ¡°Understood, Lord Daen,¡± he said. He sent a look back toward the cell that seemed pitying as he began to stride away.


    ¡°Lusul,¡± I called after the man as he walked away. ¡°How do you play your music when your hands are uncertain?¡±


    Lusul paused, his intent radiating mild surprise. He turned around, his brows raising. ¡°I¡¯m part of an orchestra, sir,¡± he replied after a moment. ¡°Even if my part isn¡¯t perfect, the others around me are able to pick up the slack. It¡¯s more common than you think.¡± He gave a short bow before walking away, his footsteps echoing out on the stones.


    I took a deep breath in as I was finally alone in the corridor. My body felt loose and tense at the same time; a paradoxical dichotomy roiling across my veins.


    I steeled my nerves, then opened the cell door, stepping inside.


    Albold Chaffer blinked in surprise as I entered, a long shadow cast from the light behind me. When I shut the door, nearly every bit of light evaporated.


    ¡°Hello, Albold,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s about time I had a talk with you.¡±


    The captive elf was lounging on a bed¨Che¡¯d been afforded one of the nicer accommodations¨Cand flipping through a book. My eyes darted to the side, noting a well-hidden bar of metal that protruded from the side of his bedframe.


    He was not supposed to have that. How he¡¯d smuggled what was essentially a crowbar into his cell I didn¡¯t know, but neither did I particularly care if he¡¯d been planning some sort of escape attempt.


    The elf¡¯s expression darkened as he pulled himself into a guarded stance. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you anything, Alacryan,¡± he spat back. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you know about my relationship with Elder Virion, but if you think¨C¡±


    I strode past the elf as he stood resolute, the action stupefying him into silence. I stared at the bare desk he¡¯d been allowed, settling my own resolve. Then I sat in the chair, turning back to the Chaffer.


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to ask you about Virion,¡± I said, ¡°but something entirely different.¡±


    Albold¡¯s eyes narrowed as he kept himself near the back wall, far away from me.


    I sighed, then looked at my hands. I¡¯d washed them of the red that stained them. My body and clothes were cleaned of their burns and grime, but if I let my vision unfocus, all I could see was blood.


    ¡°Yesterday, I committed a sin I never thought possible of me,¡± I whispered, my eyes tracing the outline of my palm. ¡°The actions I took¡­ they were beyond anything I¡¯ve done before.¡±


    Albold was silent, his unease radiating from him as I spoke. I looked up at him, my eyes narrowing slightly. ¡°I¡¯m telling you this, Albold, because I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do next. What I can do next. I already crossed one line yesterday.¡±


    Albold pressed himself even more into the wall, trying to get away from me as he clenched his teeth. Absently, I realized my intent was wafting into the air, carrying the underlying thread of madness that suffused my mind. I wondered what Albold felt in that.


    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you this to make conversation,¡± I said after a long, pregnant pause. ¡±I¡¯m telling you this because I don¡¯t know what lines I¡¯ll cross next if I can justify them in my mind. I¡¯m good at that, Abold. Good at lying to myself when I really, really need to.¡±


    Albold opened his mouth, about to retort with something fiery, but what I did next made him crumple to the floor. I engaged my Phoenix Will, calling Soulplume to the fore. The light of runic feathers banished the darkness around me, each glowing with an ochre tinge. I knew my eyes burned like stars as they pinned the elf to the stones. My aura flared slightly, pulsing with the rhythmic beat of a heart.


    Albold trembled as he stared into my eyes. I knew his senses as a Chaffer were superb. I wondered, then. What did he see when he stared into the eyes of millennia of insight? Eyes that mirrored ages long past; of the rise and fall of nations? The power barely contained in my mana core was older than the elven race itself.


    Could he feel that, too?


    ¡°You are going to tell me,¡± I said, my voice melodic yet simultaneously dead, ¡°all you know of the Trailblazer Division.¡±

 Chapter 201: Seer

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    The door of the prison cell closed behind me, the echo of the metal ringing throughout the dim hallway. I let out a sigh, my banished emotions slowly slipping back into place. Like water filling in a parched reservoir, the sensations took a moment to truly settle.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this side of you, papa,¡± Sylvie said as the barrier between us gradually relaxed. ¡°You¡¯re too cold. It¡¯s¡­ scary.¡±


    A bit of guilt swelled in my chest as the heartfelt emotions of my bond made themselves known over our empathic link. Sylvie was still higher up in the flying castle, nestled around Uto¡¯s horn as she siphoned mana from it. So while she wasn¡¯t here to see me personally, she still had an intimate perspective of my mind whenever I was down here.


    Every time I stepped into that cell, I pulled on that buried, ignored part of myself. I called Grey to the surface, suppressing Arthur and his emotions.


    So I could do what needed to be done.


    I¡¯m sorry, Sylv, I said, gritting my teeth. But you know I need to, just for this.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there anyone else you can ask?¡± she asked, her voice uneasy. ¡°It can¡¯t always be you. It¡¯s not good for you, Arthur,¡± she said weakly.


    I paused outside the door, flexing my mana and burning away a few drops of black blood from my hands. Uto only responds to me, I thought back. We¡¯d had this conversation before, and I suspected we¡¯d have it again, too. And the information I¡¯ve been able to pull from him, however gruesomely, will help us in this war.


    Sylvie simply went silent, her nervous disapproval warring with the acknowledgment of the truth of my words.


    In the short time since my first meeting with Uto inside his cell, the Retainer had slowly broken more and more as I returned. The combination of Spellsong¡¯s predictions¨Cor as I¡¯d more recently learned he was called, Toren of Named Blood Daen¨Cand my own victory over the Retainer without any clear sign of loss had sent him raving mad. His mind became a jumbled mess, and those were the perfect times for¡­ interrogation.


    Already, I¡¯d managed to extract a great deal from the captive Retainer. The magic system of the other continent was one of the first things I¡¯d managed to divulge from Uto over the course of our sessions. It wasn¡¯t common knowledge amongst our troops yet that the Alacryan way of magic was entirely different: only captains were fully informed of the Alacryan¡¯s inability to use organic magic, with required checks for runes made a standard protocol to watch for infiltrators.But that was the easy part.


    I looked at Gentry, the spindly man who, until my intervention, had been in charge of torturing Uto for information. He sat dejectedly near the wall, a slump to his shoulders as I exited the vault.


    ¡°You got more out of him, I assume?¡± Gentry said, sounding strangely sad.


    I raised a brow. ¡°I did,¡± I acknowledged. My mind flashed back to Uto¡¯s broken gaze as he rattled off names. Viessa, Melzri, Dragoth, Cadell, Seris¡­ And there was one more. One he refused to utter, the barest spark of sadistic defiance lighting up in the recesses of his soul simply by the action.


    Uto was broken. But not entirely.


    ¡°We have names for the Scythes and their Retainers, now. This information will be helpful in knowing our enemy and their capabilities, but¡­¡°


    Gentry caught my hesitation. ¡°What, did he try and lie to you? If that¡¯s the case, I¡¯m sure I can do something to loosen his tongue.¡± He rubbed his hands together, looking almost like a scheming rodent.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get all I need eventually,¡± I said with a sigh, dismissing the enthusiastic torturer. I¡¯d always thought it was a good thing to be proud of your job, even in my past life. But Gentry made it¡­ strange. ¡°But Uto was exceptionally hesitant to speak about the newest Scythe that¡¯s set to eventually join the war effort. I couldn¡¯t even get their name, only that the decision to make them a Scythe was only finalized a few years ago.¡±


    Gentry sighed sadly, the opportunity to pull fingernails and break kneecaps taken away from him. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll be going off to report to the Council, then?¡±


    I nodded as I began to stride down the hallway. I started walking toward the large meeting room the Council always used, already planning what I would say. It was easy to slightly slip back toward Grey as the politics of it all rushed through my mind. I¡¯d spent most of my time in the castle either in meetings with the former kings and queens of Dicathen strategizing or training nonstop with the Elders and Lances on hand.


    My abilities to utilize my elemental magic with versatility had improved manyfold over the past month or so. The Elders had been explicitly ordered to teach me their secrets¨Cbecause there was an enemy only I could face. I¡¯d seen great use of Elder Buhndemog¡¯s force redistribution technique. Camus had begrudgingly revealed the truth of his blindness after being ordered to by Commander Virion. By heightening my sense for wind attribute mana, I could detect attacks and movement before they ever reached me, even if it wasn¡¯t at the proficiency of the blind elf.


    I¡¯d grown substantially, but that had been because I was pushing myself so hard. I hadn¡¯t been afforded the time to interact with my sister in the castle very much, which made my heart ache. I was being pulled deeper and deeper into my duties.


    Back to Grey.


    I¡¯m not him anymore, I thought, rejecting the idea entirely. I have a family to protect. People I care for.


    But those thoughts didn¡¯t comfort me as I¡¯d intended. Instead, they made a growing darkness gnaw at my skull.


    In my past life, millions had died in the wake of my revenge for Headmaster Wilbeck¡¯s death. Under my direction, Etharia had steamrolled Trayden and scorched the earth, leaving nothing behind. Even as I¡¯d ordered men on the battlefield and directed my troops to cut off supply lines to fortified cities, I¡¯d known my actions to be morally reprehensible. Yet at the time, I simply hadn¡¯t cared.


    But an unavoidable question seared at the edges of my mind. If you went to such lengths for those long dead, Grey whispered, how far will you go for those yet living?


    I was pulled from my dark thoughts as I spotted a messenger running toward me, his eyes wide as sweat streamed down his face. ¡°General Arthur!¡± he cried, stumbling over to me. ¡°You¡¯re needed, now! At the Council!¡± he said, practically hurling the words at me.


    I reached a hand out, steadying the man as he nearly collided with me in his haste. ¡°Hold on, soldier,¡± I said, feeling a wave of apprehension wash through me. ¡°I was just on my way there. What¡¯s this about?¡±


    ¡°The dwarven rebels, sir,¡± the man said between choked gasps, ¡°they¡¯ve taken Burim.¡±


    ¡ª


    The Council chamber was deathly silent as I entered. I locked eyes with Virion first, the elf looking exhausted. His face was a mask of quiet dread as he looked at me.


    My face likely wasn¡¯t any brighter. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The elven representatives, Alduin and Merial, both stood on their end of the table. Aya wasn¡¯t in her customary position behind her artifact holders, having been stationed in the Elshire Forest for the time being. Alduin was adept at hiding and maintaining his emotions, but I¡¯d learned that Merial was his superior in politics. Despite this, they both were unable to mask the same uncertain and nervous expression.


    Blaine looked about ready to explode, his teeth gritted and his face flushed. Priscilla¡¯s hands were laid gently over Blaine¡¯s in a maneuver I¡¯d long since recognized as a subtle cue from the former queen of Sapin to her husband that his temper was showing. The dark-haired councilwoman was always cognizant of her other half¡¯s emotions, acting to counterbalance them throughout her meetings.


    But still, she showed a note of her anger on her face.


    Behind the Glayders, Lance Varay stood at attention, cool as a block of ice. As I entered, she gave me a subtle nod. She¡¯d been one of my primary sparring partners this past month whenever she was afforded the chance. By clashing blades with the deadliest of the Lances, I¡¯d improved my own spellwork severalfold¨Cnamely in honing my abilities to cancel out spells before they appeared through the use of Realmheart.


    ¡°Ah, Arthur,¡± Virion said, surprisingly gruff. ¡°We were just waiting on you. While I¡¯d like to welcome you in and give you a pat on the back, we have grave news to discuss.¡±


    I nodded slowly, my eyes focusing on the map of Dicathen laid across the Council table. ¡°The man who called me here said that the Alacryans have made their largest move of this war,¡± I said, scrutinizing the dwarven country of Darv with an air of detached calm.


    The elven Commander nodded wearily, running a single hand through his shaggy beard. His eyes darkened and the wrinkles on his face seemed to sag even further, his age showing once more as the war dragged him through hell. ¡°You pointed out in our last meeting that the erratic movements and changes in the Alacryans¡¯ attacks on the Wall likely were indicative of a greater change elsewhere yet to come,¡± Virion said with a sigh. ¡°And it appears your strange knowledge of warfare has proven correct, but not how we expected.¡±


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    In the short month I¡¯d been training, I¡¯d become a more active voice on the Council. Usually, I served as a supporting voice for Virion or gave a more nuanced opinion on matters of troop deployment, and while most of the Council had been hesitant and uncertain about my abilities to contribute¨Cto them, I was a sixteen-year-old boy, after all¨Cthe results had quickly made my voice one to be respected and heard.


    And unfortunately, it appeared I¡¯d hit the nail on the head once more.


    ¡°Except we expected there to be another attack somewhere along the coast of my kingdom,¡± Blaine bit out, his brows of gray-streaked maroon furrowing in anger. ¡°But instead, there was a strike in the middle of Darv. How could we have let this happen to us? There should have been some sort of preparation. And I heard from my reports that this happened a day ago. Why are we only hearing about this now?¡±


    Alduin was the next to speak up, ever ready to act as a counterbalancing voice to the former human king. ¡°Our network of information within Darv is already strained,¡± he said sharply. ¡°Added onto the fact that it appears our enemy used diversionary tactics. It was one of my troops who finally managed to escape the city by using their magic to swim up the River Sehz to Blackbend. When they arrived, they were barely conscious and nearly dead.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Virion said seriously. ¡°And the tale that brave soldier had to tell was strange. From what he recounted, there were practically no Alacryan troops present in the attack on the city of Burim. Only dwarven rebels set to reclaim their home. In fact, the elf was surprised by the lack of Alacryans.¡± The old elf paused, seeming to weigh his next words. ¡°And at the head of the assault was Olfred Warend.¡±


    The room became quiet as a grave. The rumors that Olfred Warend had been freed of the tethers of his artifact had been circulating all throughout Darv at a pace that told me it was being intentionally seeded. Furthermore, the word came that it was an Alacryan who had done it¨Conly cementing the necessity of my training even more.


    Now that Olfred¨Cthe traitor¨Chad appeared to lead a battle without Aldir striking him down with his artifact, all doubts about Aya¡¯s experience were erased.


    ¡°We underestimated the dwarven rebels,¡± Virion admitted, wincing slightly. ¡°Truth be told, none on this council served to view them as a threat, or as a power worth contesting. But now¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the point of it all, Virion,¡± Blaine interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. When I looked at him, I was surprised to see that his eyes were misty; clouded over with long-gone memories. The anger seemed to have drained from him at the last words, replaced with an emotion I¡¯d never seen on the former king¡¯s face. ¡°Don¡¯t you see?¡±


    Virion seemed uncertain for a moment. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t, Councilman Glayder,¡± he said after a moment.


    Blaine¡¯s eyes suddenly focused as he stared at the old elf. ¡°Back when my father ruled Sapin and drove our troops to their deaths against your forces,¡± he said after a moment, ¡°I realized that I could not allow his monstrous actions to continue to break the good people of my country. Do you know what I did?¡±


    ¡°You rebelled,¡± Merial said, sounding strangely interested. ¡°We know the story of your ascension, Blaine. You started your reign by instigating civil war and tearing your father from his throne for his waste of human life. An admirable thing.¡± There was more than a hint of respect in the elven woman¡¯s eyes as she recounted the tale.


    I found myself leaning over the table, invested in my own right. The last war between humans and elves had indeed ended when Blaine executed his father¨Cand it had been passed around as a heroic tale for as long as I could remember. The valiant prince toppling a corrupt tyrant. That action and the times of prosperity that followed had cemented the Glayders¨Cbut more specifically, Blaine himself¨Cas an almost revered figure amongst the humans.


    But seeing the twist of emotions and raw pain that warred on the old king¡¯s face, I realized that the truth must have been far, far more gruesome than what every child in Xyrus was told as a bedtime story. This man had personally run his own father through with a blade.


    Unbidden, I remembered what I had done to Cecilia. I gnashed my teeth, trying to crush those old thoughts. They resurfaced too easily after the mindset I¡¯d taken when torturing Uto. After all the dreams I¡¯d been having.


    I made the connection quickly, my finger tapping against the table as I looked at the human king. ¡°There¡¯s some sort of parallel here,¡± I said, trying to bury my thoughts of the Legacy¡¯s last moments on Earth, ¡°between the dwarven rebels¡¯ attack on Burim and your own rebellion, isn¡¯t there?¡±


    Blaine looked at me, blinking with mild surprise. His eyes¨Cnormally hostile toward me by default¨Cmust have seen something in mine that kept his anger at bay. After all, I¡¯d been a king once, too, even if in another life. I knew the weight on his shoulders.


    ¡°When I first started my rebellion,¡± the Glayder man said after a moment, ¡°it was not without significant aid from several powerful noble houses. They¡¯d been losing funds consistently as they threw their men into the meat grinder of war. So when I first planned to go to battle, they wanted to fly their standards high and proud, exemplify their contributions, and regain their power.¡±


    Blaine¡¯s hand smashed into the table, making it rattle as he barked the next words. ¡°I denied them that. I forced them to fly the symbol of House Glayder and strip their soldiers of any sort of regalia denoting their family. Do you know why?¡± he asked the silent room.


    ¡°It was so I could make this struggle one of Glayder versus Glayder,¡± he spat, his temper flaring once more. ¡°Not of the nobles versus the Glayders. And once I¡¯d won my battles, all the people saw was my victory,¡± he said, his eyes narrowing.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that the Alacryans purposefully withheld their full support from this attack,¡± Virion said after a moment, ¡°to make it seem like it¡¯s the dwarves¡¯ victory?¡±


    ¡°And now that they¡¯ve captured a city,¡± Blaine continued, his fists clenching as his nostrils flared, ¡°more and more traitorous dwarves will flock to their cause. Any actions we as the Council take can only be seen as proving their lies correct. Moving troops into Darv will only make the situation worse. That Scythe¨Cwhatever their name is¨Cis doing this intentionally. She¡¯s sowing division in Darv.¡±


    ¡°And if she succeeds,¡± I said with dread certainty, ¡°it changes the perspective of the war with Alacrya as well.¡± My hands clenched over the table.


    It¡¯s confirmed, then, I thought, sharing a knowing look with Virion. It appears Seris isn¡¯t on our side, considering she must have been the mastermind behind this assault.


    ¡°Even if we can¡¯t just throw troops at the problem, we still need some sort of response,¡± Priscilla Glayder said, her icy eyes flashing. ¡°Burim provides the Alacryans with a perfect place to stage and resupply their ships. Sapin¡¯s navy already struggles to match those steamships, and we¡¯ve only been able to maintain control over our shipping lanes and sea routes through numbers and resource advantages. If they can use Burim¡¯s port as they please¡­¡±


    ¡°We should send a Lance to the area,¡± Alduin said after a moment. ¡°At least on a reconnaissance mission. We know so little, and we are uncertain of Lance Mica¡¯s allegiances.¡±


    I felt the eyes of the Council settle on me like half a dozen weights. Varay¡¯s eyes narrowed pityingly from behind her artifact holders.


    ¡°The mage who returned to Alduin said there was a man accompanying Lance Olfred as they attacked,¡± Virion said gravely. ¡°One with bronze armor and golden-red hair.¡±


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± I breathed, my hands clenching at my sides as grim certainty overtook me.


    ¡°Are you ready for a potential confrontation, Arthur?¡± Merial asked somberly, looking at me. Her eyes flicked to the scars along my throat and hands, remnants of my duel with Retainer Jagrette. Worry danced on her features.


    ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing but train for this possibility for the past month,¡± I said, forcing a smile. ¡°If I am ordered to fly out to Darv, that is where I¡¯ll be.¡±


    ¡ª


    Talks continued for a couple of hours more as plans were discussed. There needed to be a public response from the Council denouncing the attack and reaffirming their strength. The truth was that the capture of a city made Dicathen appear weak. Incompetent.


    We¡¯d broken for a lunch break a short time ago, giving me a chance to stretch my legs and settle my thoughts. I felt a bit of surprise, however, as I noticed a small, white fox trotting down the hallway toward me.


    Sylvie? I thought, watching my polymorphed dragon bond as she approached me. What are you doing out? I thought you were locking yourself away to absorb the mana from Uto¡¯s horn.


    My bond opted to hop up onto my shoulders, settling herself in the old position she¡¯d occupied on my academy days¨Cnamely, right on top of my head. I chuckled as she ruffled my hair, trying to get comfortable on her perch.


    ¡°I thought I could stand to stretch my legs a bit,¡± she replied over our mental link. ¡°And besides, you spend too much time with those old buffoons in the Council. I need to get my allotted time with you, or else you¡¯ll run off and train again.¡±


    I snorted. You know, when you act like this, it''s hard to remember that you¡¯re a big, ferocious dragon and not some sort of lazy cat, I thought, feeling a soothing warmth travel across my muscles as I relaxed, thinking days long past. Is the view alright up there? I asked as I started to walk, no particular destination in mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s absolutely amazing,¡± Sylvie said seriously, perching herself like a queen atop my crown. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten a lot taller than the last time I did this. It¡¯s almost fit for an asura like me.¡±


    I raised a brow. Almost?


    ¡°One of the nobles here has a small mana beast as a pet,¡± Sylvie explained. ¡°And she has this strange little carrier backpack that she uses to hold it. I think you should get me one of those.¡±


    I blinked. Sylv, I don¡¯t think Lord Indrath would appreciate me carrying his granddaughter¨Ca dragon that will one day be powerful enough to level mountains¨Caround in a backpack.


    Sylvie scoffed out loud, which sounded something like a dog¡¯s cough and a cat¡¯s meow. Don¡¯t listen to him on these matters, Arthur. I may be an asura, but¨C


    Sylvie¡¯s ears perked up as she went rigid atop my head. I could feel her light amusement nosedive into wariness as she spotted something across the hall.


    Instinctively, I engaged my mana core as a shadowed figure approached from the darkness. I felt tempted to draw Dawn¡¯s Ballad from my dimension ring, the damaged teal sword my lifeline in any combat scenario.


    ¡°A wyvern,¡± Sylvie said sharply. ¡°I couldn¡¯t recognize it before because I was too young, but now¡­¡±


    The figure came into focus, hobbling toward me. Elder Rinia used a cane to support herself as she approached, a slight smile on her face as she met my eyes. On her shoulder was a familiar creature¨Cthough it took me a second to place what it was. It was Avier, the late Cynthia Goodsky¡¯s owl bond. The owl stared at Sylvie with eerie intensity.


    I was immediately struck by how old the diviner looked. She¡¯d been old when I¡¯d first met her, but her wrinkles seemed deeper; her eyes somehow more hollow even as they flashed.


    ¡°Hello, Arthur,¡± she said, her voice rasping. ¡°I was looking for you.¡±


    I shifted, surprised to see the elf in the castle. Now that I thought about it, I hadn¡¯t seen her for several years¨Cnot since my trip to Epheotus to train with the asura. I found myself questioning why I was seeing her now.


    ¡°Hello, Rinia,¡± I said. I wanted to smile, but there was something ominous in the air between us. A tension I couldn¡¯t place. ¡°Considering I was in Epheotus for the past two years, I¡¯d imagine that if you were looking for me, it would be pretty difficult,¡± I joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.


    The elven seer tapped her cane against the stone tiles. Avier ruffled his feathers. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t come with good news, Arthur,¡± she said sadly. ¡°There¡¯s something I have to tell you¨Csomething you can¡¯t tell anyone else.¡± Her eyes seemed to flash, a purple hue overtaking the strange orange-green color of her irises. ¡°And it could affect the outcome of this war.¡±

 Chapter 202: Before the Dungeons

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Stannard Berwick


    I sneezed, covering my mouth with the crook of my arm as the wind blew through the barren trees. Despite the armor across my body, I shivered slightly.


    Why does it still have to be winter? I thought sourly, sniffling. I never dealt with the cold well.


    At my side, Darvus chuckled. The brutish fourth son of the Clarell House sported lighter armor than me, which made the entire situation even more unfair.


    ¡°What, can¡¯t handle a little cold, Stannard?¡± he joked, making a show of bracing against the wind, his greenish hair blowing everywhere. ¡°Look at what I do. I¡¯m sure you can manage it.¡±


    ¡°Shove off, Darvus,¡± I said, my teeth chattering. ¡°You¡¯re only warm ¡®cause you ate like a hog earlier.¡±


    And because he was an augmenter, and strengthening your body with mana helped regulate body temperature. With my faulty core, however, I couldn¡¯t do things like normal mages.


    The two of us were stationed on the outskirts of our camp. The Grand Mountains rose high above us, blocking out the sun and casting everything in shade. Which in retrospect, probably was what made it so much colder.


    The Trailblazer Division¨Cat least our portion of it¨Cwas stationed on the outskirts of the Beast Glades a ways north of the Wall. We were tasked with routinely clearing out dungeons to prevent the Alacryans from using the beasts within, while also harvesting what materials we could.


    I narrowed my eyes as I stared down the path, spotting movement. ¡°Hey, Darvus,¡± I said, ¡°think those are the recruits we were told about?¡± A trail of a few people were approaching us.


    Darvus narrowed his eyes. ¡°Probably are,¡± he said, sounding dejected. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with and get back to killing mana beasts, shall we? I hate guard duty.¡±


    The two of us had been assigned to the outer guard by our division captain, Drogo. We¡¯d been told to expect a few last-minute recruits into our numbers before the upcoming assault on the dungeon nearby. These newbies were all that we were waiting for before our attack.


    The man at the front of the group of people rode a mana beast I recognized as a skitter. He was balding all across his head, and with the way he was wrapped in furs, it almost appeared as if an egg had been placed atop a carpet. Naturally, the man addressed Darvus first. ¡°This the Trailblazers?¡± he asked gruffly, his breath misting on the air.


    Darvus shifted his stance, standing straight as he stared up at the man. ¡°That we are,¡± he said with his usual arrogant smirk. ¡°And I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re delivering us some fresh meat?¡±


    The man atop the skitter snorted disdainfully. ¡°Half these fools will be dead in a fortnight,¡± he said caustically. ¡°Not my problem anymore.¡±


    I felt the urge to wilt as the harsh man stared down at me from his mount, judging me silently. Then he turned away, directing his mana beast back the path from whence it came.


    There were only four recruits present, and most looked more than a little nervous from what their former leader had said.


    I thought of my first entry into battle. My hands had shaken and I¡¯d barely been able to act at all. Only through experience had I finally banished that weakness, becoming a true member of my squad and tearing through our enemies. But these recruits¨Cmost appearing barely older than myself¨Call looked more than a little unnerved, except for one at the back. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Alright, recruits!¡± Darvus said, injecting his voice with his usual swagger. ¡°I¡¯ve been dying to actually sink my axes into some mana beasts for the past couple of hours,¡± he said, patting the handles of the twin axes strapped to his back, ¡°And all I¡¯ve gotta do is get you checked into the camp and sent to your preliminary squads. So come on over to me and we¡¯ll get this over with.¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t worry about what that old man said,¡± I added on quickly as the first person¨Ca thin man who wore leather armor and had a curved sword strapped to his back¨Cnervously shuffled to Darvus. ¡°Our casualty rates are very low. The Trailblazer Division exemplifies teamwork¨Cnone of us will let you down.¡±


    The recruit sent me a thankful look before going up to Darvus. I smiled slightly, trying to project my reassurance.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll need your name, your specialty, and a peek at your lower back,¡± Darvus said drolly, already looking bored.


    The man in front blinked. ¡°My lower back?¡± he said uncertainly.


    ¡°Recent intel from the Council,¡± I said. ¡°Some of the Alacryans have runic tattoos on their lower spines. We¡¯re just making sure you¡¯re not a spy from the enemy.¡±


    Our squad captain, Tessia, had explained that the runes were somehow the source of the Alacryans¡¯ magic. I hadn¡¯t personally met an Alacryan or seen what their magic could do, but it was still strange to think about. How did they use magic if not through chants and forming mana? It made no sense to me.


    The young man nodded after a minute. ¡°Onyx Embers,¡± he said. ¡°Wind augmenter, solid orange core.¡± He turned around, lifting up his shirt to display his spine. ¡°Is that enough?¡±


    Darvus peered at the young man¡¯s back for a moment, before nodding. ¡°You¡¯re good,¡± he said, then pointed to the largest tent at the center of our camp a ways behind us. ¡°Check in with Captain Drogo to get assigned to a squad. For the upcoming attack, you¡¯ll get a temporary station with an experienced team who can show you the ropes. Got it?¡±


    Onyx lowered his shirt, nodding shortly with resolve. He trailed into the camp, his steps growing more and more confident as he went on.


    ¡°Alright, next!¡± Darvus said lazily.


    The next two mages were both conjurers, with water and fire affinities respectively. Considering their level of strength, I suspected they¡¯d be placed near the vanguard for this assault. I watched each of them go, wondering how they¡¯d mesh into the Trailblazers. With my unique ability and workaround for my faulty mana core, I usually was stationed near the back of the vanguard in group assaults, so I¡¯d probably be getting to know them, soon.


    ¡°And you are?¡± Darvus said, clearly anxious to get this over with.


    My attention was drawn back to the last recruit. He had golden-red hair that brushed his shoulders, with bangs pulled up into a small ponytail behind his head. He was dressed more lightly than the others, wearing only a leather vest and rugged tunic and pants. A maroon cloak sat on his shoulders, giving him minor protection from the cold.


    But what immediately drew my attention was the stranger¡¯s eyes. They almost seemed to glow in the shadow of the Grand Mountains behind us, each like simmering coals.


    ¡°Norgan Dawn,¡± the young man said. ¡°Fire augmenter, light yellow core.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, noticing for the first time that I couldn¡¯t sense his mana core. I was a dark yellow stage mage, which was already extremely rare for someone at my age. Darvus seemed to belatedly realize the same: he was at the solid yellow stage, and extremely proud of it, too. I felt a bit of resignation pool in my stomach as Darvus puffed out his chest, staring eye-to-eye with the new recruit.


    ¡°Light yellow core, eh?¡± Darvus said, tilting his chin upward. ¡°Pretty impressive, but you¡¯ll have to go to the same tent as all the rest to get assigned. That clear, recruit?¡±


    The young man shrugged nonchalantly, revealing the handle of a dagger strapped to his belt. ¡°Fine by me,¡± he said, not caring about Darvus¡¯ open competitiveness and arrogance. He began to walk forward, his eyes focused on the tent far behind. ¡°I just need to check in with Captain Drogo, right?¡±


    Darvus¡¯ strong arm shot out in front of Norgan¡¯s path, blocking the way. ¡°Not so fast, pal,¡± he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. ¡°You¡¯ve got to show me your lower back first.¡±


    A tense silence settled over the three of us. Darvus¡¯ other hand lazily brushed one of the handles of his twin axes, his eyes glinting as he stared at the mage. The fire augmenter himself shifted his stance slightly, a frown forming on his brows as his path forward was blocked.


    I found myself subconsciously reaching for my crossbow nearby, wondering if this would devolve into a fight.


    Then the young recruit sighed, lowering his head as he massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ¡°You said you need to check for runes?¡± he asked, sounding reluctant.


    ¡°If you aren¡¯t willing to do so,¡± Darvus said confrontationally, ¡°then¨C¡±


    The orange-eyed mage waved a hand dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s not that, it¡¯s just¡­¡± He looked at me for a moment, something uncertain in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve got some pretty bad scars on my lower back,¡± he reluctantly admitted. ¡°From a training accident when I was young. I¡¯d rather not show them if I didn¡¯t have to. But there¡¯s something else I can do,¡± he said after a moment, raising a hand.


    My eyes widened slightly as fire attribute mana gathered around Norgan¡¯s palm, before sputtering into a fireball. Darvus¡¯ clenched his axe, expecting some sort of attack, before Norgan turned, tossing the fireball at a nearby tree. It seared a hole straight through, dispersing in a wave of embers.


    ¡°Was that good enough to prove I¡¯m not an Alacryan?¡± he asked curiously, glancing back at us.


    Darvus frowned in confusion. ¡°Look, if you want to throw fireballs at trees, be my guest,¡± he said, ¡°but that really doesn¡¯t have anything to do with being an Alacryan. I still need you to show me your back, scars or not.¡±


    It was my turn to intervene. ¡°Darvus, remember what Head Tessia said a while back?¡± I asked, trying to remind him. ¡°About why the captains are checking for those runes? The Alacryans, for some reason, can¡¯t use magic like we can, and those runes are the reason. But Norgan here just formed a spell organically.¡±


    Darvus blinked. ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± he said, looking at the clearly unamused Norgan Dawn. ¡°Thanks for reminding me, pipsqueak,¡± he said, flashing an arrogant smile.


    I repressed a bit of anger at Darvus¡¯ words, his constant teasing of my frail body grating at my nerves. I exhaled a breath, trying to dispel that irritation.


    He¡¯s just insecure that you figured it out first, I reminded myself. That¡¯s what Darvus is like, Stannard. He¡¯s covering for his own flaws by insulting you. That¡¯s all.


    Those thoughts helped. A little.


    Darvus spun on his heel, stretching so that his back cracked as he began to stride back toward the camp. ¡°Alright, Norgan,¡± he said. ¡°Go check in with Captain Drogo, get a team assigned, yada, yada, yada,¡± he said, waving a hand. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta prep for this fight.¡±


    Norgan watched him go with a raised golden brow, his hands stuffed leisurely in his pockets. The fire augmenter didn¡¯t look like your fresh recruit. They were normally nervous and jittery in an easily-defined way, but this man held himself with a reserved confidence that was immediately noticeable.


    Maybe he went to one of the military academies, I thought. That would explain why he¡¯s so lax about his first deployment.


    Norgan turned to me, those burning orange eyes piercing mine for an instant. ¡°Is that one always like that?¡± he said with a snort. ¡°He sounds like a pain to work with.¡±


    I let out a surprised laugh. ¡°Oh, you have no idea,¡± I said. ¡°Half the time my teammates and I have to pry him away from flirting with all the noble women in camp.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve met a few people like that. Usually noble brats.¡± He gave me a look that was slightly strained. ¡°Does the Trailblazer Division have a lot of people like him?¡±


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    I shivered slightly, a brush of cold wind setting my teeth chattering. ¡°No, actually,¡± I said. ¡°Arrogance usually doesn¡¯t last under waves upon waves of mana beasts. Darvus is the exception.¡±


    The young man¡¯s brow furrowed in worry for a second, before he waved his hand. My eyes widened as a coating of fire mana swirled around me, blocking out the cold. My hands tingled from the warmth.


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, in surprise. ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± I added, my cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Norgan dismissed. ¡°You looked cold. I couldn¡¯t leave a man to freeze, could I?¡± he said, a slight smirk crossing his face.


    I felt a smile stretch across my face. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll need to do something in return,¡± I said. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll put a good word in for you with Drogo. You¡¯ll get a team that¡¯ll match your talents.¡±


    Norgan¡¯s eyes flashed slightly as he strolled over. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said earnestly. ¡°And it¡¯s Stannard, isn¡¯t it?¡± he added as we began to walk toward the camp.


    I looked toward the young man in surprise. ¡°Yeah, Stannard Berwick,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I told you my name.¡±


    Norgan kept his gaze focused on the upcoming tent. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯ve heard a bit about you,¡± he replied. ¡°I was going to join the Trailblazer Division, after all. I did my research beforehand on the standout members.¡±


    Norgan¡¯s words made me momentarily swell with pride. I¡¯d become a crucial part of our assault teams in these past couple of years as I developed my unique magic. The fact that my accomplishments were recognized despite my meager upbringing made warmth tingle in my chest entirely separate from the barrier of fire mana that warded off the chill.


    That train of thought made my mood dip once more.


    So much for being a great soldier, I thought sourly. This young mage heard about you, likely expecting someone noteworthy and proud. Instead, he had to conjure a barrier of fire mana for you so you wouldn¡¯t freeze your nose off because of your weak constitution.


    ¡°Hey, Norgan,¡± I said, my voice sounding strained, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you heard, but I couldn¡¯t conjure a barrier of fire around myself because of an issue with my core. It¡¯s kinda pathetic, I know,¡± I admitted. ¡°But the others are certainly just as impressive as you¡¯ve no doubt heard. Don¡¯t let my own inadequacies dampen your expectations.¡±


    Norgan turned to me, his face pinched slightly. He ran his tongue over his lips, his expression darkening as he visibly considered his next words. ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t entirely truthful about my words earlier. Your abilities actually caught my eyes above the others here. Even if you can¡¯t cover yourself in mana or do the things most mages can¡­ Being able to store spells in beast cores as you do reminds me of someone I knew.¡±


    I blinked at the seriousness in the young man¡¯s words, absently brushing the handle of my crossbow on my back. Because of my core deficiency, I¡¯d learned to funnel my mana into beast cores and use them instead of normal spells.


    But I¡¯d never heard of anyone doing the same as me. Hearing that someone could do the same thing I did¡­ I wanted to ask more. But the approaching tent pushed those thoughts from my mind. ¡°Well, thank you,¡± I said, feeling myself flush traitorously. ¡°But let¡¯s get you on a team, yeah?¡±


    The inside of the main command tent was awash with controlled chaos as mages darted to and fro, preparing for the assault on the nearby dungeon. I was nearly bowled over by a man whose hands were stuffed with communication scrolls, then almost run over by a woman three times my size as he darted for the exit.


    Norgan caught me with a sturdy hand as I stumbled. I nodded to him, then scanned over the tent. I spotted Drogo easily enough. The man wore barely any armor, opting to show off his sculpted chest. His massive sword leaned against the nearby table as he barked orders, gradually getting people in order.


    I approached seriously, weaving around a few people as they rushed about. Drogo noticed my approach, then turned his hard eyes to Norgan behind me. ¡°Stannard,¡± he said seriously, nodding with respect. ¡°I¡¯m assuming this is the last recruit that you were set to wait for?¡±


    ¡°That he is,¡± I replied. ¡°And we¡¯re here to get him on a preliminary squad.¡±


    The fire augmenter stepped out from behind me, offering a hand to the behemoth of a captain. ¡°Norgan Dawn, fire attribute augmenter,¡± he said. ¡°Light yellow core.¡±


    Drogo¡¯s eyes raised to his hairline. ¡°Light yellow core, eh?¡± he said, scrutinizing Norgan closely. ¡°Have you had academy training, recruit?¡± he asked, no doubt noticing the young mage¡¯s relaxed state as well.


    Norgan shook his head slowly. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± he said honestly. ¡°I was trained in magic and combat by my mother, but she had the best education possible. But while I haven¡¯t been trained in standard military procedure, I spent a lot of my youth hunting mana beasts in the forests near the Sehz. I won¡¯t hold back any of your teams.¡±


    Drogo grunted. ¡°That¡¯s nice and all, but you¡¯ll find that the dungeons we fight through are nothing like the weak mana beasts around the Sehz. You need to fight in a team and protect your comrades. But most teams are already stretched thin with numbers. Finding a place for you where you can mesh well will be difficult, and we don¡¯t have much time to get you introduced and settled in before this next raid.¡±


    Drogo¡¯s eyes drifted to me. He stared at me. I stared back.


    ¡°Say, Stannard?¡± Drogo said, leaning over the table, ¡°Princess Tessia should be able to manage another recruit for a single raid, correct?¡±


    I blinked, following our captain¡¯s train of thought. ¡°Of course, she would,¡± I said, puffing out my chest. ¡°I couldn¡¯t ask for a better leader than her.¡±


    Norgan looked between the two of us. ¡°Princess Tessia?¡± he asked, sounding slightly amused. ¡°As in Tessia Eralith?¡±


    I began walking back toward the exit of the tent. ¡°One and the same,¡± I said proudly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you heard of her.¡±


    ¡°Indeed I have,¡± Norgan said, following after me with his hands in his pockets. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m not sure how I should act around royalty.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t treat Tessia like she¡¯s some sculpture. She hates that,¡± I said. ¡°And she could kick your ass all the way back to the Sehz River handily. In fact, she¡¯s already in the initial silver stage even though she¡¯s only eighteen years old.¡±


    Norgan looked at me knowingly. ¡°It sounds like you admire her,¡± he said, a sly smirk stretching across his face.


    I felt myself blush inadvertently. ¡°I do,¡± I said stiltedly. ¡°What she¡¯s done is praiseworthy, working her way up the ranks of the military without using her connections and status as a princess to do so.¡±


    Thankfully, I was spared from any more awkward statements as I approached our section of camp. Darvus was working through his twin axe forms by the fire, already kitted out entirely in his armor. Caria, the childhood friend of Darvus and one of our squad-members, lounged on a log nearby, talking animatedly with Tessia. The elven princess tucked a lock of silver-gray hair behind her sharp ears, smiling at something her friend said.


    I felt my ears burn as I hastily looked away. Out of your league, Stannard, I reminded myself. And Arthur entrusted me to protect her. Can¡¯t do that if you¡¯ve got moony eyes.


    I felt a consoling pat on my back. I looked up, noting Norgan¡¯s sympathetic face. I understand, that face said. It made me feel a little bit better.


    I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of the three around the fire. Darvus immediately frowned as he stared at Norgan, sweat dripping from his brow. Caria looked between me and the fire mage behind me with confusion, while Tessia simply tilted her head, her hair brushing past her shoulders.


    ¡°Hey, guys,¡± I said. ¡°Drogo assigned the last recruit to us to watch over for his first assault on a dungeon.¡±


    Tessia stood up from where she lounged on a log gracefully, striding over to me. ¡°Thank you, Stannard,¡± she said with a nod, before orienting on the man behind us. ¡°My name is Tessia Eralith, head of this unit of the Trailblazer Division. And you are?¡±


    Norgan held out a hand. ¡°Norgan Dawn,¡± he said for the third time. ¡°Fire attribute augmenter, yellow core. It appears you¡¯ll be stuck with me for the time being,¡± he said with a light smile.


    Tessia raised a brow in surprise, before her demure hand shook Norgan¡¯s. ¡°You know, most people who first hear my name either bow and scrape, or simply find themselves unable to respond,¡± she said, amusement clear in her tone. ¡°But you¡¯re one of the few who appears not to care.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Caria said, the small woman jumping up from where she sat with a visible pout. ¡°It¡¯s always fun to watch those who try and approach our noble and dignified princess flounder about for a response. You¡¯re ruining our fun, Norgan,¡± she accused.


    Norgan shrugged as if to say What can you do? ¡°I¡¯ve been told by many people that I¡¯ve got a problem with ¡®deferring respect to my betters,¡¯¡± he said. ¡°I grew up being told that one¡¯s actions determine their character, not their hereditary position. It has caused some¡­ problems in noble circles, I¡¯ll admit,¡± he added sheepishly.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that here,¡± Caria said, holding out her fist to Norgan. ¡°Caria of House Rede. I¡¯ve been assigned to keep the lug over there out of trouble,¡± she said, pointing a thumb back at Darvus, who was glaring darkly at Norgan.


    Norgan bumped his fist with Caria¡¯s. ¡°I imagine that¡¯s a full-time job,¡± he said wryly. ¡°Do you at least get a salary?¡±


    Caria pouted, grabbing Darvus¡¯ arm and pulling him down to her level. He yelped in surprise as he was ripped away from his dour glare. ¡°No, I don¡¯t!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°Look at how ungrateful he is!¡± she said, feigning sadness as she pulled on her childhood friend¡¯s cheeks.


    Darvus swatted at her, trying to ward her off. ¡°You evil little mouse!¡± he cried as she swiped something from his pocket. ¡°Will you ever leave me alone?!¡±


    The two devolved into squabbling as Caria taunted him. I watched the interplay fondly, feeling my nerves settle slightly.


    Ever since the disastrous battle where we¡¯d lost many of our number against the surprise attack of beasts, Darvus had been acting more and more somber and broody. It was Caria who went out of her way to pull him from that darkness, being the best source of light she could manage for her crush.


    Darvus was crass, arrogant, and sometimes a downright bastard, but ultimately it was painful to see the effect his bout of weakness had had on his personality. It was moments like these that made our efforts feel worthwhile.


    Norgan observed the two bickering somberly, a soft¨Calmost sad¨Csmile on his face. In turn, Tessia was scrutinizing the fire augmenter with narrowed eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, Norgan,¡± she said after a moment, ¡°that even if you don¡¯t do the ¡®noble titles¡¯ thing, you¡¯ll still follow my command to the letter. Are we clear?¡±


    Norgan looked at Tessia, his burning orange eyes seeming to brighten for a moment as they locked with her turquoise ones. ¡°Understood,¡± he said far more seriously. ¡°What will I be doing in this attack?¡±


    Tessia visibly considered for a moment, looking back at me. ¡°Considering your inexperience, we¡¯ll have you on defense for the back line,¡± she said. ¡°This is a dungeon we¡¯ve cleared before, so there shouldn¡¯t be any surprises in store for us. But it¡¯ll be a good place to observe and learn more about our team dynamics.¡±


    ¡°Got it,¡± Norgan said, resting his hand on his dagger. ¡°And when are we heading out?¡±


    Tessia smiled slightly, her pristine lips parting. ¡°In ten minutes or so, Norgan,¡± she said. ¡°So you better prepare.¡±


    ¡ª


    I sat on a log as I sorted my inventory of beast cores. Fifteen low-power rounds, I counted, noting the swirling fire and wind mana contained in each core, And ten high-power rounds.


    I inspected my crossbow, which was modified to hurl beast cores like ballista bolts. Artificer Gideon Bastius, the eminent scientist in Dicathen, had made it for me personally after getting a look at my condition. The mad inventor had been the first to see any sort of potential in me despite my deficiencies, which made me constantly strive to live up to what my potential could become.


    But after walking in on that cavern full of decimated monsters and seeing Arthur Leywin looming atop that pile like some sort of king on his throne, my confidence had been¡­ shaken. It wasn¡¯t easy seeing the peak and not comparing oneself to such might.


    I turned in surprise as Norgan plopped down beside me, staring seriously at the fire. ¡°It seems I¡¯ll be in charge of keeping you safe coming up,¡± he said sternly. ¡°Anything I should know?¡±


    I aimed down the sights of my crossbow, imagining a massive mana beast on the other end. ¡°You¡¯ve got this, Norgan,¡± I said encouragingly. ¡°Mana beasts rarely make it to the back line, and when they do they¡¯re wounded more often than not.¡±


    Norgan nodded slowly, before his eyes flicked to the sack of loaded beast cores I carried. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the swirling mana, a sorrow I felt hard to define overcoming them.


    He said he knew someone who could do the same as me with beast cores, I thought after a moment. He probably misses them. Being sent away from the comforts of home and a warm bed is never easy.


    But another part of me was curious. As far as I was aware, I was the only one with this deficiency. To hear that someone else had managed to conquer it as well made my chest tighten.


    ¡°Hey, Norgan?¡± I said, my tongue feeling like lead in my mouth, ¡°You said you knew someone who could imbue spells into beast cores, right? How did they discover that ability?¡±


    Toren wrenched his eyes away from the sack of beast cores. ¡°She didn¡¯t do the exact same as you, Stannard,¡± he said quietly. ¡°She was able to work with other mages to imbue their spells into a beast core. It was a rare, rare gift, but I suppose you could probably do something similar.¡±


    I blinked, my mind immediately whirling with the implications. Suddenly, an entire plethora of possibilities opened up in my mind. I only used my mana for the beast core spells, which meant I was limited to my own reserves for stockpiling. But if I somehow figured out how to store the mana of others into a beast core, I wouldn¡¯t only be limited to my fire and wind attribute spells.


    My hands tingled with excitement as more and more scenarios rushed through my mind. If I could work with different mages, theoretically I could be the most versatile mage that ever existed, so long as I got the right diversity of spells.


    ¡°Norgan,¡± I said excitedly, ¡°you need to tell me how that worked. Or introduce me to this woman. Please!¡±


    Norgan¡¯s face drained all the excitement from my bones, ripping it away like a blanket and leaving me shivering in the cold. There was an eerie intensity that plastered itself over the rigid lines of his face, a vein visibly pulsing on his forehead.


    ¡°She was murdered,¡± he said sharply, turning away from me. ¡°Her name was Greahd. She was the kindest person I¡¯ve ever met. The most selfless woman I had the blessing to grow up knowing.¡±


    I immediately felt guilt thread through my bones. I reached a hesitant hand out, patting Norgan on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to dig up painful memories. I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    Norgan shook his head, his voice sorrowful. ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Stannard,¡± he said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s because of her I¡¯m here now, trying to make a difference. Trying to make a change. Without her sacrifice, I¡¯d probably still be hiding away, unwilling to take the steps I needed to for this continent.¡±


    I swallowed. Without my parents, I probably wouldn¡¯t be here, either. It was because of my family that I fought. ¡°I¡¯m glad you found purpose in that,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not easy, this war.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it¡¯s not,¡± Norgan agreed, his shoulders slumping. ¡°Indeed it is not.¡±

 Chapter 203: Sabotage

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Stannard Berwick


    I pulled the trigger on my crossbow, the recoil throwing me backward as the beast core within shot off with a streak of orange. I tumbled away from the blast, but Norgan caught me in time, keeping me from any further harm.


    I watched as the beast core rocketed off toward the mass of beasts a ways away. The augmenters who¡¯d worked to herd the monster together scattered, shouting for all to take cover.


    Then my spell impacted. The core cracked, and I suddenly felt as my mana burst through the edges of the beast core. A few of the augmenters were sent flying back from the force of the explosion, the wind whipping at them. I felt the heat even from where I was.


    A shard of rock flipped toward me, but Norgan leisurely batted it aside with his dagger. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on where the horde of beasts used to be. A ways in front of me, Darvus and Caria caught their breath, settling their nerves as the killshot was delivered. Tessia, ever the warrior, simply gave the whirling smoke a stern look, seeming entirely unphased by the pitched battle we¡¯d been in just a minute ago.


    When the smoke cleared, only the charred corpses of mana beasts remained to greet us. The common monster of this dungeon was a lizard-like creature with spiked clubs and a penchant for violence, but now there were none left alive.


    I¡¯ve gotten better at condensing fire mana, I thought, smirking at the results of my spell. There were at least half a dozen A-class beasts at the center, and now there¡¯s none.


    Norgan whistled in appreciation as he stared at the result. ¡°Impressive display,¡± he said honestly. He helped me up with a solid arm, giving me a light punch on the shoulder in appreciation. ¡°Do you always go flying whenever you shoot those?¡±


    I laughed a bit nervously, working on reloading a low-power round into the chamber of my weapon. ¡°Only with the high-power rounds,¡± I said sheepishly. It felt good to be acknowledged. ¡°The kickback is pretty absurd. It¡¯s because I use wind magic to help accelerate it, but that increases the recoil.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve got, what?¡± Norgan said, his golden brow raised. ¡°Ten that can do all that damage, stuffed into your little bag?¡±


    I rubbed my chin. ¡°Well, nine now,¡± I said. ¡°I need to be careful with my reserves, or else I¡¯ll run out. I¡¯m one of the biggest damage dealers for this part of the Trailblazers, so I need to always have a backup.¡±


    Norgan flourished his dagger, flicking a bit of blood from the steel edge. A few of the mana beasts had managed to skirt around the back line, but they hadn¡¯t been a problem for him.


    ¡°Eugh,¡± Caria said from nearby, grimacing at the soppy goop of innards that clung to her gauntlets. ¡°It took me half a year to get the last bit of grime from my clothes.¡±


    Darvus snorted. ¡°You should keep the grime in,¡± he said, swinging one of his axes down and beheading a still-twitching lizard. ¡°Tells everyone what you really are instead of that feisty little exterior.¡±


    ¡°Little?¡± Caria hissed, sounding offended. ¡°How many times do I need to say it? I¡¯m not little; I¡¯m petite!¡± she complained, stomping a foot.


    ¡°Saying it over and over again doesn¡¯t make it true,¡± Darvus mocked, tossing an axe up and catching it again. ¡°You should know better by now.¡±


    ¡°Please, Darvus,¡± Tessia said jovially, striding back from the point of our formation. ¡°Keep talking like that and Caria will wash all that grime into your bedroll.¡±


    Darvus looked askance at Tessia. ¡°But as our dear, dear leader,¡± he said, adopting a simpering tone, ¡°you wouldn¡¯t let that happen, would you?¡±


    Tessia raised a single gray-silver brow, cocking her head as she stared down the arrogant axeman.


    ¡°Would you?¡± he asked again, this time sounding a lot less confident as he shot a glance at Caria. Caria had a positively devious smirk on her face.


    ¡°No comment,¡± Tessia eventually said, striding away from Darvus and back toward me. No, not toward me.


    Norgan was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the interplay with a mildly amused expression. The princess of Elenoir scrutinized him closely, tilting her head slightly. ¡°You did remarkably well for your first battle,¡± she complimented, ¡°even if it was from the back line. I¡¯ll admit, I expected you to fare a lot worse.¡±


    I remembered the first time I met Tessia. I¡¯d been a blushing, stuttering mess as those turquoise eyes held me, but Norgan seemed¡­ unfazed, really. I found myself wondering how any man could maintain that eye contact without their legs becoming jelly. I certainly couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°I¡¯m more experienced in combat than you might expect, Lady Eralith,¡± he said with a respectful dip of his head. ¡°If you want me to do more, I¡¯m certain I could handle it.¡±


    Tessia shook her head. ¡°No, you¡¯re still a new recruit, Norgan. And speaking of being a new recruit¡­¡± A rather innocent smile crossed her face. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Uh-oh. I knew that expression well. I felt a twinge of sympathy well up in my stomach as I stared at the unsuspecting victim that was Norgan, but I forced my face to remain even.


    ¡°Captain Drogo is over there tallying up the remains of the mana beast corpses. I¡¯ll need you to check in with him,¡± she said sweetly.


    Norgan¡¯s brow furrowed as he stopped leaning on the wall, looking at me for some reason. I whistled, avoiding his gaze.


    ¡°This is a trap of some sort,¡± he accused. ¡°I just don¡¯t see the net yet.¡±


    Oh, it absolutely was. But as great a man as the fire augmenter was, that did not spare him from newbie duties.


    Tessia simply waved her hand dismissively. ¡°You agreed to follow my orders, Norgan,¡± she said. ¡°And that means going to talk to Drogo,¡± she added, that innocent smile of hers making her almond-shaped eyes narrow slightly.


    Norgan began to walk away, practically radiating suspicion as he went toward where the massive Drogo was looming over the corpses of a few A-class beasts.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s gay,¡± Darvus said primly, leaning back and using an axe for support as he watched where Norgan walked off.


    Caria squawked indignantly, before kicking the axe out from under his arm. He yelped as he fell in a rather unimpressive heap. ¡°Darvus, that¡¯s uncalled for!¡± Caria said, sounding affronted. ¡°Just because you don¡¯t like someone doesn¡¯t mean you should start making assumptions, or discriminate!¡±


    ¡°Oh, come on, that¡¯s not what I meant!¡± Darvus complained, rubbing at his arm from where he¡¯d landed on it. ¡°Do you need to be so punchy all the time?¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°Well, then what did you mean?¡± I said, crossing my arms and staring at Darvus. He had a habit of trying to puff himself up and demean those he thought of as a threat to his fragile masculinity in any way.


    ¡°I¡¯m not being an asshole, I promise! But he didn¡¯t even react to our amazing princess!¡± Darvus said. ¡°Literally everyone I¡¯ve met has become either an idiot, a comedian, or an idiot comedian whenever they saw our princess for the first time. But he¡¯s just not! It¡¯s weird!¡±


    ¡°And were you an idiot, a comedian, or a comedic idiot?¡± Caria bit back toward Darvus, her ire raised. This time for a different reason, I suspected.


    Before Darvus could respond, I spoke next. ¡°Actually, Darvus kinda has a point,¡± I said, snapping my fingers. ¡°He really didn¡¯t seem to care that Tessia was a princess, either. Just kinda brushed it all off. And well, most men around Tessia are, uh¡­¡± I trailed off awkwardly, feeling a bit of a flush in my cheeks.


    He was able to maintain eye contact with her for extended periods of time. That didn¡¯t seem very straight to me.


    ¡°While I am so very flattered by your images of me,¡± Tessia interrupted, rolling her eyes as she began to set up a small camp with the supplies in her dimension ring, ¡°you¡¯re all wrong about him. I think he¡¯s already got someone he has his eye on,¡± she said, pulling out a pot from her storage.


    Caria immediately oriented on Tessia, abandoning her admonishment of a crestfallen Darvus. ¡°Oh, do tell!¡± she said, ever the gossip. Her eyes practically sparkled as she zipped over to our team leader. ¡°Can you tell because you¡¯re in love, too?¡± she asked.


    Tessia¡¯s cheeks went red like a strawberry all the way to her ears, her shoulders tensing as Caria poked at her. There was only one topic that could get such a reaction out of her: the Lance, Arthur Leywin.


    ¡°No!¡± she said a bit quickly. ¡°I mean, yes? It¡¯s just a feeling, Caria. I can¡¯t explain it, okay?¡± she sputtered, before burying her head in her hands. I felt the elven princess¡¯ face might just melt from how red it got.


    ¡°If you want to, just ask him,¡± Darvus bit out, sounding sour as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Loverboy¡¯s coming back now, and he looks¡­¡± The fourth son of House Clarell narrowed his eyes. ¡°Far less angry than I expected. Huh.¡±


    Norgan plodded over to us, his hands shoved in his pockets. In fact, he was whistling a light tune as he strode over. Tessia raised her head from her hands, blinking in surprise at the mage¡¯s nonchalant air.


    ¡°That was far from the worst beast core extraction and skinning I¡¯ve done,¡± he said jovially, seeming happy. What the hell? ¡°It¡¯s a useful skill to have.¡±


    ¡°How are you so¡­ fine?¡± I said incredulously. One of the first things that new recruits were forced to do was work through the corpses of the defeated mana beasts, extracting their cores and salvaging what materials they could. It was a particularly gruesome job, especially because spellfire usually left a bloody pulp instead of an intact body. Many of our new recruits were farmhands who thought they could easily deal with the bodies, but what was left behind after fire, stone, wind, and water struck a mana beast¡¯s body was barely recognizable as anything other than sloughing gore.


    It was a good way to desensitize newbies to the blood and gore without true danger.


    Norgan looked at me with a raised brow, before unsheathing his dagger. He flourished it deftly, spinning it through his hand in an impressive display of dexterity. ¡°I was forced to live in the forest along the Sehz for a month and a half when my mother first started training me in magic,¡± he said, his voice becoming a bit more serious. ¡°When you¡¯re forced to hunt for yourself, you learn pretty quickly how to skin a charred corpse.¡±


    A strange silence settled over the group as we each individually processed that information. ¡°I guess our hazing isn¡¯t as effective on someone who hunted for themselves,¡± Caria said, sounding genuinely disappointed. ¡°But we have another question for you, Norgan,¡± she said, her face darkening as it took on a serious cast.


    Norgan¡¯s hand paused from where he¡¯d been twirling his dagger, and I thought I saw a note of real uncertainty flash over his face as he stared at Caria. His hand tensed on the dagger, his stance shifting subtly. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked.


    Caria leaned forward, clasping her hands dramatically as her iron stare bored into Norgan. ¡°Are you in love with anyone?¡±


    Norgan blinked. Once. Twice. ¡°What?¡± he asked stupidly.


    Tessia visibly struggled not to laugh as I stared aghast at Caria for her blunt question. Darvus snorted at Norgan¡¯s blank expression.


    ¡°You see, Darvus here thought you were gay because you didn¡¯t become an idiot around our wonderful princess,¡± Caria explained, throwing her childhood friend under the carriage, ¡°but Tessia thinks you¡¯ve got someone already in your heart. So what is it?¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± the long-haired augmenter said, seeming to not have expected this at all. Then his brow furrowed slightly. ¡°Well, love is kind of a strong word. For now, at least,¡± he said after a moment, before dropping down on a jutting rock to stare at the pot Tessia had set up for our dinner. ¡°Lady Eralith has a good eye. And Darvus is an idiot.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Come on, tell us more!¡± Caria prodded. ¡°Tell us what she¡¯s like!¡±


    Norgan stared intently at the base of the pot, his burning eyes tracing the outline of the logs. ¡°I could tell you a lot of things,¡± he said with consideration. ¡°But really, I¡¯m not sure if anything I could say would do her justice.¡±


    Tessia leaned in slightly, clearly interested in learning more about our newest recruit. Darvus pretended to inspect his axes, doing his best not to look too invested.


    And Caria? She squealed like a child being presented with her first mana beast pet. ¡°Come on! What¡¯s the thing you love most? Just off the top of your head!¡±


    Norgan visibly considered, before he sighed deeply. ¡°She¡¯s used to keeping everything to herself,¡± he sighed. ¡°When we¡¯re together, that persona kind of¡­ breaks away, despite the fear. And I guess I like seeing what¡¯s beneath those layers.¡±


    Darvus gagged in exaggerated disgust, while Caria gasped. ¡°Oh, a romantic! You have to tell me how you met! I bet it was romantic, too!¡±


    Norgan smirked, flicking a finger. A small ember flashed from the digit before igniting atop the wood in a flare of light. ¡°Sorry to disappoint you, but it really wasn¡¯t. She tried to rope me into being her employee on our very first interaction,¡± he said fondly. ¡°I turned her down, unfortunately for her. She had to work a lot harder after that to dig her claws into me. But once they were there¡­ well, they aren¡¯t going anywhere.¡±


    That seemed enough to finally get someone else¡¯s attention. Darvus scoffed in dismay.


    ¡°Norgan, you¡¯re going about this all wrong,¡± Darvus said with sudden seriousness, leaning forward and adopting a severe expression as he interjected into the conversation. ¡°If you want to get in the bed of an older woman of that type, there¡¯s a specific way to do it. You can¡¯t just roll over so quickly. Take it from me: you¡¯ve gotta make it a fight, first! Make her feel like she¡¯s earned being the lion!¡±


    The arrogant son of the Clarell House flexed his muscles in an exaggerated way, seeming proud of himself as Tessia sighed in annoyance and Caria scoffed.


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    Norgan, contrary to all expectations, threw back his head with laughter. ¡°Darvus, if you tried anything like that with her, you¡¯d be lucky to see the sunrise with your precious parts still attached. Or your head. I think I¡¯d like to see you try!¡±


    The fire augmenter leaned back, a wicked smirk on his face as his orange eyes shone.


    Darvus glared at our newest recruit in turn. ¡°You should stop imagining me without my most powerful asset,¡± he said haughtily, crossing his arms.


    Norgan scoffed lightly. ¡°I don¡¯t need to,¡± he said smugly. ¡°After all, you clearly carry two big axes because you have no sword to mention.¡±


    I coughed abruptly, hacking and sputtering in surprise. Even Tessia laughed at that one, while Caria forgot how to breathe from the counter.


    Darvus¡¯ eyes flashed in challenge. ¡°Okay then, little dagger,¡± he countered, ¡°l¡¯ll take you up on your challenge to prove the worth of my words. When this battle is done, I¡¯ll show you exactly how to charm a woman like that.¡± Darvus pointed an arrogant thumb at himself. ¡°So when you do eventually get with your oh-so-pretty company leader, you¡¯ll only have Darvus, fourth son of House Clarell to thank!¡±


    Caria finally took this opportunity to sock Darvus hard in the stomach. Utterly unprepared for the pint-sized powerhouse¡¯s strike, he wheezed as he doubled over.


    ¡°You crazy,¡± he wheezed, staring up at her with betrayal deep in his eyes, ¡°you crazy bit¨C¡±


    ¡°I will hit lower next time,¡± she declared, her cheeks burning from a slight flush. ¡°Don¡¯t give me the excuse, Darvy.¡±


    Caria glared down at him, and Darvus chose life as he opted to not finish that word. Instead he groaned, muttering to himself in a pouting way as he clutched his growing bruise.


    I chortled. For all Darvus¡¯ tough talk, Caria still had him beat. But then I looked at Norgan.


    His expression was gradually falling, something sad and empty taking its place. The playful banter seemed to suddenly sap the life from him instead.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get you through this,¡± Tessia said to Norgan as she noticed what looked like¡­ regret. Despair. ¡°It isn¡¯t easy being a soldier, but I¨Cand my team¨Cwill make sure you survive. It¡¯s okay to be nervous, too.¡±


    Norgan nodded slowly, turning away slightly. ¡°Yeah, thank you.¡±


    The conversation trailed off as our group stared at the cookfire, a strangely melancholy sense taking us all over.


    ¡ª


    A couple of hours later after we¡¯d all broken for lunch, the Trailblazers continued down the dungeon¡¯s twisting pathways. Occasionally, we had to fight a small wave of beasts, but with the aid of experience and teamwork, we cut through all monsters like wheat through butter.


    Drogo called a halt to our procession with a raised hand, staring at two diverging tunnels in front of us. Whispers spread throughout our number as uncertainty took hold.


    After all, this tunnel wasn¡¯t here the last time we¡¯d been through this dungeon. And unexplained alterations to dungeons was characteristic of Alacryan intervention.


    Drogo stared at the tunnel, his brow furrowed. ¡°We¡¯ll need a scouting team to check the path a little ways ahead,¡± he said seriously, turning back to look at us all. His eyes roved over the many individual teams that composed this slice of the Trailblazers.


    I knew before Drogo¡¯s eyes settled on our group that we were going to be selected. Tessia had proven herself many times over to be a tactical commander for situations like these, making her a prime choice. Furthermore, she was likely the strongest individual mage of all of us, considering her status as a silver core.


    Sure enough, our captain called out for the head of our unit. ¡°Tessia Eralith,¡± he said seriously. ¡°Will you and your team scout the path ahead and report back should you spot anything else amiss?¡±


    Tessia nodded seriously, her hand firm on her rapier. ¡°I will, captain,¡± she said. ¡°Give us a moment to plan before we go.¡±


    Drogo nodded, the burly man turning away. Tessia looked at Norgan first, lowering her voice. ¡°Do you think you can do this?¡± she said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t part of the original plan for you, and we don¡¯t know what might be down that tunnel.¡±


    Norgan nodded seriously. ¡°I came here on a mission, princess,¡± he said resolutely. ¡°And I¡¯ll do all I can to get that done.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s brow furrowed slightly, but she eventually nodded in turn. ¡°Alright then,¡± she said. ¡°Try to keep up.¡±


    Caria clacked her gauntlets together as she stared at the tunnel, the entrance like the yawning chasm of an abyss. Darvus snorted as he held his axes, his eyes focused on the darkness beyond. I swallowed as we began to walk toward the tunnel, my footsteps suddenly far more audible.


    I was small for my age. I hated to admit it, but it was true. But I felt even smaller as I stared up at the rim of the stone above me. I felt like a morsel of food entering willingly into the gullet of some giant beast. I¡¯d fought countless monsters, but there was still something terrifying about the unknown.


    It¡¯s just a cave, Stannard, I chastised myself, gritting my teeth at my foolishness. There¡¯s no need to get all ruffled. Stop being a coward.


    As expected, the tunnel wasn¡¯t any different from the dungeon outside, even as we continued on through it. It sloped downward for a ways as we all followed it, but otherwise¡­


    I stared up at the ceiling, breathing a sigh of relief. My nerves were always¨C


    My eyes widened as they caught on something far above. Two burning orange stars illuminated a metallic texture that clung to the ceiling. A sort of avian mana beast made entirely of bronzed metal stared down at me, those fiery eyes seeming to pierce my soul.


    I halted in my tracks, my breath catching. How did I not sense it before? The thing tilted its head, looking at me as if I were prey. It wasn¡¯t that big¨Cmaybe the size of a falcon, but¡­


    My eyes wrenched themselves away from the construct, just to land on something else that was clenched in its sharp beak.


    It was a beast core. Not just any beast core, but one I recognized. One I¡¯d imbued not three hours ago.


    The monster¡¯s eyes glimmered with intelligence. I felt my heartbeat stop as I put two and two together.


    ¡°Everybody, run!¡± I screamed suddenly, my legs shaking as I stared up at the metallic beast. Everyone jumped in surprise, looking back at me. ¡°It¡¯s going to blow¨C¡±


    The avian beast whipped its head, throwing the volatile core at the ceiling behind us. The core smashed into the ground, shattering into a million pieces.


    And releasing the spell within.


    The cavern was suddenly awash with heat. I felt a hand snatch my collar, grabbing it and cinching tight as it clasped my armor. Norgan threw me behind him, bracing himself against the tide of flames as he threw a hand out, conjuring a barrier of fire around us both. The edges of my very own spell singed his arms, fighting to break through the torrent.


    For a second, all I could see was orange. All I could feel was overwhelming heat, my metal armor cooking me inside. Norgan¡¯s teeth clenched as sweat dripped down his brow, his hastily conjured fire barrier struggling to stand against the overwhelming power packed into the beast core.


    I almost forgot to breathe as the torrent of mana slowly dissipated. My hands shook from where they clutched the dirt, my gaze locked on where the pathway back used to be.


    The ceiling had caved in from the explosion, leaving a hundred tons of debris between us and the rest of the Trailblazers. I felt strangely numb as I gaped, still flat on my ass.


    ¡°What the fuck!¡± Darvus cursed, glaring at me. The rest of the team had managed to get clear of the initial blast radius. ¡°Why the hell did you detonate one of your rounds right here, Stannard?! We¡¯re trapped!¡± he seethed, a mix of panic and anger warring in his face.


    ¡°I¨C I didn¡¯t,¡± I said numbly. ¡°I mean, it was one of my rounds, but a mana beast¡­ There was a mana beast on the ceiling that had one. I don¡¯t know how!¡± I said, feeling shellshocked. I struggled to think, not understanding how this could have happened.


    Caria seemed just as surprised as me, her eyes glued to the only exit that was now barred from us. She stared at it mutely, her mouth agape with uncomprehension.


    Tessia looked just as panicked herself for a minute before she forcibly calmed herself. ¡°This isn¡¯t as bad as it looks,¡± she said slowly, gathering her breathing. ¡°The tunnel may be blocked, but¨C¡±


    Something streaked out from the rubble, zipping past Norgan and me in a bronze blur. It shot past our team, heading further down the tunnel in a sinuous weave.


    ¡°That¡¯s the beast!¡± I said, jumping to my feet. Suddenly, adrenaline coursed through my veins again as my focus narrowed. To my credit, my legs barely shook. ¡°It¡¯s the thing that detonated that spell!¡±


    Darvus snarled, hefting an axe back as he focused on the retreating metal beast. His muscles visibly flexed as he clenched his hand in anger. Then he hurled one of his weapons at the small creature, the axe tumbling end over end in an unerring line. ¡°Take that, you metal bastard!¡± he yelled angrily.


    I thought for a moment that Darvus¡¯ axe might actually hit the monster, but a fireball¨Calso aimed at the metal beast¨Ccollided with Darvus¡¯ axe in midair, causing it to detonate. The Clarell son¡¯s weapon was sent spiraling into the floor, embedding itself there as the avian monster screeched in a way that sounded distinctly mocking as it disappeared into the darkness.


    Norgan¡¯s outstretched hand clenched as his face wrinkled in agitation, clearly irritated that he¡¯d missed his mark. Darvus glared at him, before marching forward with his sole remaining axe clenched in his hand. ¡°Great!¡± he said mockingly. ¡°And now the thing that trapped us here got away, all because you can¡¯t aim for shit! If you would¡¯ve just let me deal with it, then we¡¯d at least have the taste of revenge to sate this crap!¡±


    Norgan didn¡¯t back down from the Clarell¡¯s attempt at intimidation. His hand rested solidly near his dagger as he matched Darvus¡¯ stare. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sorry that I tried to help!¡± he bit back. ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯t immediately start pointing fingers. We¡¯re all trapped here, if you didn¡¯t notice!¡±


    A vine cracked like a whip between the two of them as Darvus¡¯ mana flared. They turned to look at Tessia, whose outstretched hand glimmered with green particles of mana as she reined in her plant magic. ¡°Enough!¡± she snapped, glaring at Darvus. ¡°Arguing and picking fights won¡¯t get us anywhere in this mess. But it¡¯s not the end of the world. Dungeons rarely have dead ends, and if that mana beast was willing to try and trap us here, it has likely got an escape route of its own.¡±


    Darvus¡¯ hand clenched as he lowered his axe, still covertly boring holes into Norgan. ¡°Fine,¡± he said, before marching over to where his other axe was embedded in the floor. ¡°Just tell the forest dweller not to fire spells willy-nilly, and keep his hands to himself.¡±


    Tessia turned hard eyes to Norgan next. Her lips pursed as her perfect gray-silver brows furrowed, visibly concentrating. ¡°Norgan,¡± she said after a minute, ¡°could you go check down the route a little bit as I assess the damage here?¡± she asked.


    Norgan seemed to still, sensing something hidden in Tessia¡¯s words. Then he sighed, walking back toward Caria. ¡°Got it, Lady Eralith,¡± he said with a tired sigh.


    Tessia looked at me sternly. Normally, I might have blushed or felt self-conscious under that stare, but the aura of severity that radiated off of her banished any of that. ¡°Stannard, how many of your high-power rounds do you have right now?¡±


    I blinked, cursed, then fumbled to look through the pack at my side. When I opened up my bag and began to count the beast cores within, I felt my teeth clench. ¡°Only eight,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t understand how that mana beast got one of my cores! It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s suspicious eyes flicked down the tunnel where both that bird and Norgan had disappeared. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said slowly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    I shifted uncomfortably, not understanding her meaning. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± I asked, feeling a strange sort of dread sift under my skin.


    Tessia¡¯s bright turquoise eyes snapped back to me. ¡°Stannard, when you first met Norgan, did he ever show you his lower back?¡± she asked seriously.


    I shook my head. ¡°No, he said he had scars down there he didn¡¯t want us to see,¡± I said. Then the implications of her words and suspicions caught up to me. ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t mean that Norgan is an Alac¨C¡±


    Tessia pressed her hand to my mouth, cutting off my next words. I felt myself blush as she kept narrowed eyes focused on where the golden-haired augmenter had disappeared. ¡°Quiet, Stannard,¡± she said, before removing her hand.


    I swallowed nervously, looking anywhere but the elven princess¡¯ eyes. ¡°But he showed us organic magic,¡± I said in a hushed whisper. ¡°You told us that the Alacryan mages used runes to channel their effects, not our ways of forming mana. That should mean he¡¯s in the clear, right?¡±


    Tessia¡¯s eyes visibly dilated as she let out a curse. ¡°Stannard, that information is reserved for only the highest echelons of the Council and specific Captains. I was only told because my grandfather wanted me to be informed,¡± she said sharply. ¡°All most captains know is that the Alacryans have tattoos, not that the tattoos are the source of their magic.¡±


    The obvious conclusion began to quickly settle into my bones. A chill creeped its way up my spine as I trembled uncertainly. ¡°Then that means that Norgan either knows information only privy to the Council¡­¡±


    ¡°Or he¡¯s an Alacryan spy,¡± Tessia continued gravely, ¡°sent to sabotage us in particular.¡±


    ¡ª


    My steps felt like lead as our group continued down the passageway, my thoughts a mess. Tessia¡¯s words and conclusions made perfect sense, and I couldn¡¯t think of any other way that a beast core had managed to find its way into the beak of some mana beast, except by someone extremely close to me.


    But Norgan saved my life from that explosion, I thought, not wanting to believe it. And the words we shared around the cookfire¡­ That felt real, didn¡¯t it? There¡¯s no way he just faked that.


    A sharper voice rebuked me from within as our group of five nervously descended further into the dungeon. If he¡¯s a spy, of course he could fake those things, I thought sourly, berating myself. Hell, Norgan¡¯s probably played us all for fools. And you let him because you¡¯re an idiot who gets a little happy at the barest bit of praise. You were the one who let him into the camp, after all. It¡¯s your fault if anything goes wrong. And he manipulated you, making you think that there was another just like you out there.


    A strange light appeared at the end of the tunnel, making our group slow in apprehension. My hands clenched around my beast core launcher¨Cfrom apprehension, fear, or anger, I couldn¡¯t tell.


    ¡°Keep close,¡± Tessia said, showing none of her suspicions or plans on her face. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s up ahead, so keep on your toes!¡±


    Caria crashed her gauntlets together, resolve burning in her eyes. Darvus scowled at the end of the tunnel as he flourished his axes, while Norgan simply settled his stance.


    I should have guessed it, I thought bitterly. He¡¯s too experienced, clearly. First battle, my ass.


    Norgan must have sensed my attention because he turned back to look at me. I held his eyes for a moment¨Cthose burning, swirling eyes¨Cbefore I forced myself to turn back to the tunnel exit.


    It¡¯s not confirmed yet, I reminded myself, swallowing nervously. We still need to make sure.


    Tessia strode forward out of the tunnel, and we all followed. Caria gasped audibly as the cavern shifted in its entirety. Darvus whistled in appreciation, his glare washing away in awe.


    I almost dropped my core launcher in astonishment, gaping like a new recruit as I saw the cavern.


    A massive expanse of clear crystal covered the stone like scales, refracting from a hundred floating lights. Orbs of vibrant cerulean flickered and bobbed like curious fireflies, drifting about like snow on the wind.


    It was like a garden of protruding spires, each seeming to glimmer with purpose.


    And what was even more strange was that there were no mana beasts within the expansive cavern¨Cat least none that I could sense. This felt like the prime location for a boss monster of some sort, but¨C


    ¡°Over there!¡± Caria said, pointing animatedly. ¡°I think I see something smoking over there!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°What is that?¡±


    Our group focused in the direction Caria was pointing, and I immediately felt myself pale. A massive lizardlike creature the size of a small house lay dead in a heap. Once, it must have been covered entirely in reflective spines of crystal, but now they were cracked and broken. Its eyes stared up emptily at the sky.


    A hole was seared straight through its chest and out the other side, an unerring line burned through the flesh without care for anything in its path. The rims of the wound didn¡¯t bleed, the entire wound cauterized from the heat of whatever had killed it.


    ¡°Damn,¡± Darvus cursed, his eyes wide. ¡°That¡¯s an AA-class beast at least, and it¡¯s just¡­ dead,¡± he said, sounding unnerved. ¡°But what killed it?¡±


    I felt a flash of deja vu as I stared at the corpse, thinking of my first interaction with Arthur Leywin. The scores upon scores of mana beast corpses, all piled around him¡­


    I blinked as Norgan stepped past the group, withdrawing his knife and kneeling by the large monster¡¯s head. He proceeded to prod the creature¡¯s skull with the point of his dagger, observing the way the flesh moved. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been dead long,¡± he said seriously. ¡°Probably only an hour at most, considering how rigor mortis hasn¡¯t started to set in around its face. If we want to find what did this¨C¡±


    Tessia¡¯s rapier flashed, the green-patterned steel arcing down near Norgan¡¯s hand. Her weapon smashed the dagger from his grip with contemptuous ease, before the tip snapped back up like the jaws of a serpent.


    The point of the elven princess¡¯ blade drew a line of blood from where it sunk ever-so-slightly into Norgan¡¯s throat. Her turquoise eyes were deathly focused as she kept her intent locked solely on the disarmed mage in front of us.


    Darvus immediately grabbed his axes, but he seemed momentarily confused by our leader¡¯s actions as she held our once-companion at swordpoint. Caria yelled in surprise.


    I moved to the side, trying to flank the two. I raised my beast core launcher, aiming it at Norgan¡¯s exposed back. My hands were surprisingly steady as I aimed down my sights at the man. My heartbeat rose in my ears, my nerves threatening to overwhelm me.


    ¡°Tessia, what¡¯s going on?¡± Caria said, shifting into a fighting stance as her eyes snapped between Norgan and her. ¡°What are you¨C¡±


    ¡°Norgan,¡± Tessia said sharply, ¡°You are going to show us your lower back. And if you don¡¯t, I¡¯m going to thrust my rapier through your neck.¡±

 Chapter 204: To Cleanse for the Future

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    ¡°You are going to show us your lower back,¡± I said with gritted teeth. ¡°And if you don¡¯t, I¡¯m going to thrust my rapier through your neck.¡±


    Norgan stared up at me. He was calm: far too calm. That was the first thing I¡¯d noticed about him when we¡¯d first met: he was nervous, yes, but not about battle. Anyone with the point of a sword to their throat should show some sign of fear. A bit of hesitation or anxiety. Yet Norgan was unerringly serious as he stared up at me, still crouched by the corpse of the boss monster.


    I¡¯d been on high alert regarding the self-proclaimed fire augmenter the moment he¡¯d been assigned to our squad. It was something of a bad habit of mine: growing up in Zestier amidst the royalty of my people had conditioned me to always watch for those with ill intentions. Every handshake could carry a poisoned needle; every smile could hide knives.


    Yet this Norgan wasn¡¯t like the spies I¡¯d met before. Especially with how he¡¯d spoken around the fire about the woman he loved¡­ I couldn¡¯t bring myself to believe that to be a falsehood.


    After all, I allowed myself to think for a moment as I stared down at who I was certain was an Alacryan spy sent after me, the way he described his lover was too real.


    Afraid to love¡­ That described Art perfectly. And perhaps that understanding had made me let my guard down around the man.


    I would have denied Captain Drogo¡¯s command to go down the tunnel to scout otherwise.


    That trust lasted until the ceiling had been destroyed, cutting us off from support. There were only a few ways a random mana beast could have acquired one of Stannard¡¯s beast cores, and the logical conclusion was that the person assigned to protect Stannard had swiped one when he wasn¡¯t looking.


    ¡°I told Darvus and Stannard this before,¡± Norgan said evenly, ¡°but I have scars along my back. I don¡¯t want to show them. I already proved to the others I¡¯m not an Alacryan with my organic magic.¡±


    I pressed my rapier just a bit deeper. He was lying. I was sure of that now as I stared into his burning orange eyes. His tell was remarkably similar to Art¡¯s giveaway¨Che refused to look me entirely in the eye.


    But I didn¡¯t want to kill him. No, we knew so little about our enemy. The only worthwhile prisoners the Council had were Elder Rahdeas and Retainer Uto¨Cand while Uto had been giving valuable information, this spy was likely important as well.


    I felt the edges of my lip curl up as I caught the man in a trap. ¡°The knowledge that the Alacryans get their magic from runes is classified, Norgan. That isn¡¯t known to anyone but the highest members of the council.¡± I paused. ¡°And presumably our enemies as well.¡±


    We¡¯d have to figure out how Norgan¨Cthe spy¨Cused organic, Dicathian magic when we took him in.


    Darvus and Caria, who at first had displayed shock and dismay at my threat towards Norgan, now shifted into expressions of anger and betrayal respectively. Both moved to flank Norgan¡¯s other side, making sure he was entirely surrounded. From the side, Stannard¡¯s beast core launcher kept him pinned down from range.


    Norgan¡¯s gaze slowly panned around him, taking in the hostile nature of our squad. When his eyes settled back on me, they had a resigned cast to them.


    ¡°The hard way it is, then,¡± he said, sounding tired.


    I caught something flashing toward me from my peripheral vision, my instincts blaring suddenly in warning. In a moment of panic, I tried to drive the point of my rapier forward, attempting to skewer the spy where he knelt.


    But before I could act, two glimmering white spots of mana flared around my body. I was suddenly pushed backward forcefully, my rapier leaving Norgan¡¯s throat as I was caught off guard by this strange flare of magic.


    The enemy¡¯s dagger streaked toward him, outlined in a flare of white as I barely ducked it. Norgan surged upward, catching his weapon as it returned to him. In the same movement, he spun on his heel, hurling his dagger point-first toward Stannard¡¯s incoming low-power incendiary round. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The dagger and shining beast core exploded in a nimbus of flame, steel shrapnel flying everywhere as the weapon was obliterated. Darvus rushed forward, flourishing his axes as he leapt for the Alacryan spy.


    Something happened to the shrapnel in the air, however. A current of white mana seemed to overlay the area, and suddenly all the shards of metal were zipping toward Darvus instead. He stumbled to a halt, planting his feet and raising his axes in front of his face in a protective measure.


    The barrage of metal slammed into the flats of his blade, but each impact sounded like the strike of a hammer on nails. Darvus was sent skidding back as the remaining shards of shrapnel rebounded off his armor.


    Caria darted from around Darvus¡¯ back, lithely sprinting toward our foe. Her gauntlets flared with mana as they erupted into jagged flames, the small warrior yelling a resounding battlecry as she threw herself at the Alacryan spy.


    I followed her lead, conjuring vines as thick as my torso that dug and rent the earth as they surged toward the enemy mage. He turned to look at me, but too late.


    My vines cinched around the mage¡¯s legs, anchoring him to the ground and locking him in place. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment.


    And Caria¡¯s fist thundered toward his skull like an unerring hammer, poised to crater in his jaw.


    Yet somehow, impossibly, the mage bent backward, slipping the punch even as his legs were rooted to the spot. He flexed, straining for a bare instant, then tore himself free of my spell.


    I snarled as Norgan let loose an unfocused wave of fire that sent Caria tumbling backward, her gauntlets singed from deflecting the blast. Darvus cursed as he flexed his shoulders, getting into formation near me. Caria pulled herself up too, her hair in disarray and a mask of determination on her face.


    A dozen meters away, Norgan wiped a bit of blood away from his throat where my rapier had cut him. He flexed his magic, and the red liquid burnt away. Simultaneously, something arced down from the ceiling, settling on his shoulder.


    Behind me, Stannard gasped and Darvus cursed. An avian construct of bronze metal trilled as it hopped onto Norgan¡¯s shoulder, peering at us with sunlit eyes. I forced myself to focus on the enemy in front of us and not his little contraption.


    Its eyes are like Lord Aldir¡¯s, I thought, feeling unnerved by the intensity of those burning pits. And it appears my guess was correct. That clockwork thing obeys his orders.


    ¡°I wanted to wait for a time when there was a certainty that nobody else had to get hurt,¡± Norgan said, his shoulders slumping, ¡°but it appears I can only remain undercover when the circumstances are more dangerous,¡± he said, sounding cynically amused.


    ¡°If you think we aren¡¯t dangerous,¡± I said, settling my stance and calling on my mana, ¡°then you¡¯re in for something else, Alacryan,¡± I added confidently.


    I¡¯d trained for years to master my power, fighting under the best tutors Elenoir could field. I¡¯d been tutored by Lord Aldir himself in my swordplay. If this Alacryan, however powerful he was, thought he would simply walk over us, he was wrong.


    Norgan rolled his neck, an audible cracking echoing out as he flourished his hand. A white horn¨Cstreaked through with what looked like orange-purple veins¨Csettled into his palm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lady Eralith,¡± he said somberly. ¡°I¡¯ve had a really, really bad week. But if I manage what I need to right here and now, there¡¯s a chance this world won¡¯t go to hell.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply in turn, to counter with something. But I suddenly felt the blood leave my face as the instincts I¡¯d inherited from my Elderwood Guardian Beast Will screamed at me. The shifting power, laden deep within my core, told me in no uncertain terms, that if I didn¡¯t use it¨C


    In a sudden panic, I allowed myself to fall into the Second Phase of my Beast Will. The malevolent power of an S-class mana beast surged to the surface of my skin, causing my hair to darken to a deep, forest green and my aura to mold around me like a celestial shell.


    It was only the automatic, primal defenses of my Will that saved me. Dark green vines¨Calmost black¨Cerupted from the ground, pulling me backward and away from something I couldn¡¯t perceive.


    Just in time. Norgan¡¯s fist¨Ccoated with a layer of white mana¨Cseemed to phase into existence right in front of me with how fast he¡¯d suddenly become. I barely had time to bring my sword in front of my chest in defense before whatever spell he¡¯d coated his hands with erupted, blowing me back.


    As I shot backward, my arms aching all the way to my shoulder from the effort of blocking that single attack, I sent out tendrils of vines to try and ensnare Norgan¡¯s feet once more. Caria, acting on instinct and the engrained practice of a hundred battles, rushed forward to try and sucker-punch the spy while he was trapped.


    Except something different happened. A saber of what looked like transparent crystal folded itself over the horn in Norgan¡¯s hand, becoming a blade of burning fire. The weapon flashed a few times at speeds I couldn¡¯t comprehend, severing the vines that held him.


    I felt dread growing in my stomach as Norgan turned leisurely to face my friend. ¡°Caria, no!¡± I yelled, panic suffusing my voice. My Elderwood Guardian Will screamed inside of me, angry for some reason I couldn¡¯t discern. ¡°Don¡¯t go in alone!¡±


    My friend didn¡¯t listen, too engaged in battle lust. Norgan easily avoided a flurry of her punches, ducking and weaving like a dancer amidst a hurricane. It was pristine, the way he moved. Not a bit of wasted movement that I could see.


    Where Arthur was always an impossible force, this mage shifted like the air itself with every step. Caria looked like she was trying to grasp handfuls of stormwind.


    Caria seemed to realize in the moment the danger she was facing. Like a child that runs away from their parents into the dark, she saw an insurmountable wall. A barrier she could not cross.


    I slammed half a dozen vines into the earth, halting my momentum with a sudden lurch. The change made me queasy for a bare instant, but I still wasn¡¯t fast enough.


    Norgan spun on his heel, snapping his leg out for a devastating roundhouse kick. At the speed it was going and how Caria had overextended, she didn¡¯t even have a chance to block it.


    The sound of the impact echoed as it struck Caria solidly in the ribcage. Her eyes rolled back up into her skull as her limp body shot toward Darvus, who was screaming with rage as he tried to assault our enemy.


    Yet as his childhood friend¡¯s body arced toward him, Darvus hesitated, dropping his axes and rushing to catch her in a moment of panic.


    ¡°You don¡¯t yet know true war,¡± Norgan said, his hand snapping out like a devious serpent. He clasped the surprised Darvus¡¯ face, the Clarell¡¯s eyes staring wildly through the Alacryan¡¯s fingers. ¡°You¡¯ve only fought beasts.¡±


    And then he slammed Darvus into the ground head-first. A crater opened beneath Darvus¡¯ body as he gasped in pain, going limp with his childhood friend splayed over him.


    I screamed in fury as I surged toward the mage facing us. I didn¡¯t know why, but it felt just like whenever I saw Art truly fight. There was a deadly aura to his almost casual movements that reminded me of my childhood friend.


    This is what you¡¯ve been training for! I internally yelled at myself. So he won¡¯t always be beyond your reach!


    A streak of red shot toward the strawberry-blonde mage at an impossible speed, yet a wall of pushing force erected itself in front of Norgan just in time. Stannard¡¯s high-power round veered off-course sharply, instead aiming directly for me as I blurred toward my enemy.


    I caught a glimpse of Stannard¡¯s horrified face for a split second as the attack approached, but my Second Phase was my protector. Of their own accord, vines arose around me, catching the projectile before whipping it back at Norgan.


    Norgan simply tilted his head, allowing the small marble of power to whizz right past his ear. It detonated in a resounding explosion as it hit the wall, causing the ceiling to tremble and outlining the Alacryan in fire for a bare instant.


    And then we collided. I was a flurry of vines, sword strikes, and torrents of wind as I tried desperately to land a hit on the man. My rapier darted in and out like the snap of a whip, seeking blood.


    But there was nothing. At every turn, his blurring saber of fire deflected my attacks, severed my vines, and dispersed my blades of air. Even with the power of the Elderwood Guardian suffusing my veins, even with my years of experience guiding my every step, it was like trying to pierce a veil of water. Nothing had any purchase, despite our similar speeds. It was like he could sense my desires before I even knew them.


    My anger redoubled at my futile attempts. And just like Arthur, I can¡¯t land a single scratch.


    But there was something else rising inside me, too. Fear.


    Norgan¡¯s eyes flashed a deeper orange, his face a mask of concentration as he engaged me. The only damage I¡¯d managed were a few cuts and scrapes along his arms. ¡°Humans are so much worse than beasts, Tessia,¡± he said, ducking the swipe of my rapier once more, before pivoting away to avoid the ensorcelling tendril of a vine. ¡°We plan, we fight, we exploit weaknesses. We sin.¡±


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    Darvus, his face bloodied and half-crazed from being slammed into the ground, launched himself at us with a rabid cry. ¡°A bastard and a liar!¡± he bellowed. ¡°That¡¯s what you are, Alacryan! You think you can spy on us and get away with it?!¡±


    Something in Norgan¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Get away with it?¡± he whispered through the clash of our blades, his aura redoubling.


    Norgan shifted slightly, allowing Darvus¡¯ axes to blur past his face, before rearing back a fist. I watched with horrified intensity as fire, sound, and a layer of that strange, white mana concentrated over his fist.


    ¡°You can¡¯t even comprehend what I¡¯m trying to stop,¡± he hissed, his orange eyes flashing like a bonfire.


    No, I thought desperately, feeling a terrible certainty as an absurd amount of energy swelled over the man¡¯s knuckles. Even from a ways away, the sheer volume of power made my body tense. I can¡¯t let him land that attack! I can¡¯t let him hurt my squadmates!


    Norgan¡¯s fist rocketed toward a disoriented Darvus¡¯ chest, poised to blow a hole clean through. I called on my mana, feeling my core twinge painfully as I siphoned more and more energy into my spell.


    A massive vine¨Ceasily twice the width of my torso¨Cerupted from the ground, wrapping around Norgan¡¯s body and cinching shut like a serpent. The angle of his attack was disrupted, causing his fist to fly off target.


    I had to shield my eyes from the flare of light and sound, the trembling of power in the air making my teeth rattle. When I opened them once more, a furrow half the length of the cavern had been dug through the ground, obliterating any and all crystals in the spell¡¯s path.


    Darvus gaped on the ground, having barely avoided death. Instead, one of his axes¨Cheirlooms passed down for generations through the Clarell House¨Chad become a slag of molten steel at his feet.


    And Norgan was still bound by my massive vine. I felt adrenaline course through me once more, sensing an opportunity that wouldn¡¯t come again. He¡¯ll kill us all, I thought with resolve as I surged toward the trapped mage. We can¡¯t let him recover! He¡¯s too powerful to¨C


    Norgan¡¯s fist, which was forced to remain outstretched by the vine that held him, opened. My eyes darted to his palm, feeling a blaring fear.


    A familiar kind of mana swirled there. It rippled like translucent oil, bending and warping the air. Within, a condensed bit of fire sparkled and popped. I watched as the spell fell from his hands in slow motion, almost entranced by how the sound mana split the light.


    And then it hit the ground. The flashbang erupted like the popping of the world¡¯s largest balloon, a dozen different frequencies and octaves and noises crashing into each other as the world flashed orange. My vision swam as sound and light assaulted me, causing me to stumble to the ground as my sense of everything went haywire from confusion.


    When my vision finally came back into focus, there was a familiar shadow standing over me. I was being dragged backward, the person grunting and cursing as he tried to move me. Stannard¡¯s thin arms strained from the effort.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he said to himself. ¡°We need to get you out of here!¡±


    I coughed up a mouthful of blood, struggling to keep a hold on my Second Phase. That sound spell had rattled me deeply. Distantly, I was aware that Norgan had torn his way free of my binding spell, and was fighting both Darvus and Caria at once. I didn¡¯t know when Caria had gotten back up, but the man was clearly toying with them.


    I scrambled to my feet, stumbling from disorientation. I blinked bleary, uncertain eyes. I took that point-blank, I thought, my ears still ringing and my body still numb. The vibrations from that spell¡­ they¡¯d damaged something inside me.


    ¡°Tessia, it¡¯s you he¡¯s after!¡± I vaguely heard Stannard say. ¡°You need to get out of here! You¡¯ve gotta leave while you can! We¡¯ll hold him¨C¡±


    I ignored my friend, unwilling to leave him here to die for my sake. Always for my sake, I seethed, that anger centering me. Everyone is always ready to sacrifice for me! My eyes darted to Stannard¡¯s belt, the rush of battle blurring out all else.


    On instinct and a barely formed idea, my hand snapped out, grabbing the bag of high-power rounds he had stashed at his hip. They felt surprisingly heavy, the seven rounds within clinking with barely contained power.


    Stannard¡¯s eyes went wide with fear. ¡°Tessia, you can¡¯t¨C¡±


    I ignored my squadmate¡¯s pleas as I rushed forward, clinging to my Beast Will for support. I watched as Norgan¡¯s fist obliterated the other priceless artifact of House Clarell, shattering the second of his axes into a hundred tiny pieces. Darvus gaped at the handle of his weapon, cradling its remains like a child for a split instant. Before Norgan could land the final blow, my vines reached out, grabbing both his and Caria¡¯s body.


    With an effort of will, I hurled my friends behind me, rushing to face the monster alone. He turned to face me, his expression set in a deathly serious cast.


    ¡°Maybe we haven¡¯t fought anything other than beasts,¡± I said, my voice coming out strained from exertion, ¡°but you forgot one thing.¡±


    Norgan allowed me to get close, likely expecting to engage in another fruitless close-quarters duel with me. Except the moment I was close enough, I threw the bag at the ground.


    Norgan¡¯s eyes widened in surprise and true fear for a moment as he crossed his arms over his face, expecting an explosion as the sack hit the stones and bracing from the front.


    Yet none came. A vine snaked around behind Norgan, bearing the last seven of Stannard¡¯s high-power rounds. It slammed them into the floor just as I reversed course, darting backward with a victorious grin. In that barest instant, the Alacryan spy seemed to understand that he¡¯d been duped; baited into blocking from the wrong direction.


    ¡°You¡¯re just as mortal as the rest of us,¡± I hissed, feeling a surge of victory in my veins.


    The subsequent explosion sent me hurtling backward like a comet. I smashed through a spire of crystal painfully, a few of my ribs audibly breaking from the impact as the entire cavern was awash with orange light. The ground trembled and the ceiling creaked as force traveled through the entire cave. Deep cracks¡ªeach like ravines¡ªspread along the floor. Fault lines opened like yawning abysses as they spread throughout the crystalline boss room. The flickering blue lights wavered as power washed through them.


    My body tumbled weakly down a spire, exhaustion threading through my everything. Stannard managed to get mostly clear of the blast wave, having dragged Caria and Darvus¡¯ limp bodies behind a jutting spike of crystal for protection.


    My exhausted eyes met Stannard¡¯s as the torrent of fire finally dissipated. The scent of smoke cloyed in the air from where I lay.


    By the asura in Epheotus, I thought headily, feeling a laugh bubble up from my throat, Stannard packed a metric ton of mana into those things.


    I was pretty sure that amount of firepower could level a city block. What was he doing just carting that around in a bag?!


    ¡°That had to have done something,¡± Stannard said hopefully, barely audible over the ringing in my ears. ¡°Nothing could have¨C¡±


    And suddenly, Stannard¡¯s words choked off as a suffocating presence suffused the cavern, the judgment of one beyond us all pressing into every inch of the ambient mana. My core lurched as it sputtered weakly, my body crumpling fully to the floor as I fought to remain conscious.


    I watched with horrified eyes as the smoke cleared, eyes like stars piercing the gloom.


    Toren Daen


    My body felt hot. So, so hot. Even with the support of my Acquire Phase burning along my veins, the heat of the conflagration threatened to overwhelm me.


    But I was still protected from the worst of the blast. Aurora¡¯s massive bronzed wings sheltered me in a protective cocoon of metal, the air warping around us as my bond used her construct to brace against the compounding explosion.


    For a few seconds, I feared I wouldn¡¯t make it out of this as the heat made the massive feathers warp. My breathing was strained and unsure as tinges of orange licked at the outside of my bond¡¯s shell.


    And then the heat dissipated, wafting away as the mana fueling it was expended. My skin gradually healed over as I stared at Aurora¡¯s damaged form.


    Her large avian head dipped, inspecting my wounds from above. Part of her beak was visibly melting, leaving her relic disfigured and damaged as it weakly puffed orange-purple light.


    They hurt her, I thought with sudden fury, my intent rippling out. It¡¯s my fault. She only had to do this because I got sloppy.


    ¡°That is correct, my young chick,¡± Aurora admonished. ¡°You let your guard down and allowed the Legacy¡¯s Vessel to catch you by surprise. It is only this shell that bears damage, but you cannot afford such laxness. Especially so close to your goal.¡±


    I ground my teeth as the smoke cleared, the chain on my arm pulsing in rhythm with my anger. Not at my opponents, but at myself. The air felt heavy with the swirl of my emotions as I began to stalk toward Tessia Eralith, eventual Vessel for the Legacy.


    The princess lay sprawled on the ground, blood dribbling from her once-pristine lips. Her battle armor was cracked and broken in nearly every single place, and from the terrified tremble of her heart, I knew she¡¯d suffered internal injuries.


    The fear in her eyes made my own thoughts waver. The desperation, the need to survive, yet also protect the ones close to her? My thoughts were a mess as I slowly closed the distance between us. The warmth of my Phoenix Will¨Cusually so calming¨Cdid nothing to temper the fire of my heart.


    Everything has led to this, I thought angrily, guilt churning in my mind as I spotted Darvus and Caria¡¯s bodies a ways away. Another line I¡¯ve crossed.


    Tessia tried to pull herself to her feet, but the weight of my intent and the injuries she¡¯d sustained made that impossible. She cried out in pain as she collapsed in a heap. But surprisingly, it was Stannard who stepped up next, fighting through the cascading waves of my killing intent as he stood guard over his team leader¡¯s prone form.


    His hands trembled. His eyes watered with terror. And his legs visibly shook as he placed himself between me and his leader. Yet he stood strong.


    He leveraged his crossbow at me, unwilling to abandon his teammate. I stared down the barrel, noting a final round stowed inside.


    I must look like a monster to them, I thought, pausing as I stared at the terrified Stannard. A beast. A creature of war. An unholy killing machine.


    Stannard pulled the trigger, firing off his last beast core at me with a heartfelt cry and the speed of a bullet. I simply raised my hand, snatching the marble from the air with a gentle touch. I found myself inspecting the swirling mana within, barely contained by the limiting walls of the beast core.


    What would Greahd think of me? I wondered mournfully as I stared at the core. She could do the same thing as Stannard, after all. The mana inside was volatile, barely on the brink. It was so, so close to exploding. To letting it all break away under the pressure and simply becoming fire. Would she think me a monster, too?


    I snarled at the thought, then crushed the core in my hands. Under the influence of my Phoenix Will, the mana contained inside didn¡¯t even have a chance to burst. I smothered the flames with brute force, not allowing them to burn.


    I walked forward once more. Stannard put his hands up in a crude imitation of a fighter¡¯s stance, his hopeless eyes still determined to fight one last time. I closed my eyes as he threw himself at me, not watching as my telekinetic pushes blew him away.


    When I opened them again, I stared down at Tessia Eralith. There was something sadly resigned in her face as she stared up at me, unable to move her body and bereft of any protectors.


    ¡°You were destined to be powerless in the most fundamental way imaginable,¡± I found myself saying as I stared down at the elf. ¡°But if I can stop that future¡­ If I can prevent that Fate¡­¡±


    Tessia Eralith was going to be Cecilia¡¯s Vessel. Using the anchor points of Nico and Grey, alongside the mirrored circumstances across both lives, the symmetry in Fate allowed Agrona to pull the Legacy¡¯s soul and supplant Tessia¡¯s mind within her own body.


    But that didn¡¯t need to be the case. Agrona had only found Tessia¨Conly won the war¨Cbecause of the corrupted nature of her Elderwood Guardian. It allowed him to track her wherever she went, to turn her into a remote bomb whenever he desired. It allowed him to blackmail Alduin Eralith into surrendering all of Dicathen.


    But if I took away the corruption of the Elderwood Guardian¡­ If I cleansed her Beast Will of its Vritra taint, then the Legacy¡¯s reincarnation became infinitely more complicated for Agrona. Then he wouldn¡¯t be able to so easily win this war.


    I knelt over the elf¡¯s body, my eyes tracing the motes of heartfire that clung to her blood as it dribbled down her armor. This was what I¡¯d been planning for so, so long. This was how I gave this world a better chance.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lady Eralith,¡± I said, pointing a finger over her sternum. ¡°I suspect this is going to hurt.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s eyes widened, right before a thin scalpel of plasma projected itself over my fingers. I lowered it down to her core, blocking out her panicked whimpering and futile struggles. When my blade cut a thin line over her chest, she didn¡¯t cry out like I expected. The pain must have been substantial, yet the elf only glared up at me in growing defiance despite her terror.


    That¡¯s right, I thought, feeling as her heartfire flared with emotion. Don¡¯t give in. Never give in, Tessia Eralith. Even when the odds are stacked against you. Even when you feel like there is no other choice.


    I felt her Elderwood Guardian Will as it resonated with my Phoenix Will. It was terrified; afraid of the sun encroaching on its domain as I pushed two fingers into the cut I¡¯d made and pressed their tips against the elf¡¯s silver core.


    This time, she did yell out in pain. I ignored it, falling into the fugue state of surgery as I commanded her Beast Will forward. Tessia¡¯s hair turned from its normal gunmetal gray to a forest green as her Second Phase engaged, the Elderwood Guardian putting up one last, futile struggle as my heartfire touch enveloped it.


    You are nothing, I snarled mentally, Aurora¡¯s mind bolstering my own as she assisted my fortitude. A simple beast. A paltry remnant. You are nothing to an asura.


    And as my fiery talons finally wrapped around the Elderwood Guardian, I began to pull.


    Tessia¡¯s screams became deafening as I slowly retracted my hand, sweat beading across my entire body as I tore at the Beast Will inside of her. Slowly, slowly. Ever-so-slowly, I felt as the corrupted taint of the Vritra began to separate from her core, following my goading touch as it sought to try and clash with my Phoenix Will.


    This was what I¡¯d trained in the Beast Glades for, constantly cleansing the monsters I¡¯d found of their corruption. All for this moment, where I denied Agrona his tool. Where I refused him and spat in his face. Where I ground his meticulous plans into dust.


    A black, writhing swirl of mana slowly separated from Tessia¡¯s core as I drew it out. Her hair, which had been a forest green under the effects of her Beast Will, bled to a lighter color: a reflective, emerald shade that didn¡¯t feel so dark. The roots and vines that flailed around us¨Cwhich were once so twisted and gnarled¨Cbecame smooth and healthy in a way I never expected. Flowers with petals of deep silver sprouted all along the length of the vines, budding and blossoming as if spring had already come. I thought I could smell fresh leaves around us as those flowers bloomed.


    I exhaled as I grasped the wriggling tendril of black mana above Tessia¡¯s chest, my breath coming up short. Not because I was exhausted, no. But because I¡¯d done it. I looked down at the elven princess beneath me, meeting her turquoise eyes. She¡¯d been screaming her lungs out in pain earlier as I wrenched the blackness from her core, but now there was a distinctly surprised and baffled expression on her face as her eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the shadows that squirmed in my palm like a malevolent leech.


    ¡°W-What? What did you do to me?¡± she asked numbly, her voice scratchy and hoarse. She sounded so baffled¡ªso blown away by this turn of events¡ªthat I couldn¡¯t help it.


    I laughed. It was a hearty, mad sort of sound. The weight of a thousand plans and worries and terrors and everything slamming into me all at once. Tears gathered at the edges of my vision as I held proof of my victory, of my ability to change everything in my palm.


    This world could be changed. Agrona could be denied.


    I stared mutely up at the ceiling, my shoulders slumping as I traced the outline of the crystal stalactites above. ¡°Well, Lady Eralith,¡± I said, feeling a strange mix of energy and tiredness, ¡°It seems that you¡¯re free to¨C¡±


    And my world erupted in pain.

 Chapter 205: A Clash of Wills

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Color rushed back into my vision as I disengaged Static Void. Time resumed once more as I appeared directly beside Spellsong, Dawn¡¯s Ballad shaking violently in my hands as I thrust it through his wrist.


    The blade carved through his flesh with ease, causing him to drop the wriggling mass of black mana as his tendons were severed. Not wasting a single breath, I swung my fist, a gauntlet of earth and fire forming in that split instant before cracking the disoriented man across the jaw hard.


    With the strength of my assimilated body and the torrent of mana rushing through my veins, the impact sounded like a thunderclap. Toren Daen rocketed away from me like a comet, crashing into a nearby spire of crystal. It exploded into a shower of shards, kicking up dust and obscuring his body from my sight.


    Sylvie crashed down behind me like a black comet, roaring in defiance. The echo of her draconic bellow made the entire cavern shake as she unfurled her midnight wings, snarling in fury as she glared with eyes of the deepest amber at the cloud of dust. I didn¡¯t pay attention to that, though. No, my eyes were glued to Tessia as she coughed weakly at my feet.


    ¡°He hurt mama,¡± Sylvie snarled, her fury matching my own over our telepathic bond. ¡°How dare he,¡± she hissed. Her black wings cast a long, dark shadow as they stretched toward infinity.


    I knelt over Tess, meeting her eyes. I brought a hand down to brush away a lock of silver-gray hair from her battered and bruised face, inspecting her injuries. She stared up at me, her hand clasping my wrist weakly. ¡°Art,¡± she said, her voice strained. ¡°Art, I¨C¡±


    ¡°Save your strength. You¡¯re going to get out of here. Now,¡± I ordered, my voice serious. I traced the outlines of Tess¡¯ face. I noted the damage she¡¯d sustained in battle and the wound directly over her core, feeling what I needed to do next cement within my mind. ¡°Sylv, heal her with aether. Whatever you can manage.¡±


    Sylvie wrenched her massive, draconic maw away from where she¡¯d glared at the settling dust, instead shifting to breathe purple motes of energy over Tess¡¯ body. I watched as Tess¡¯ cuts and bruises healed; how her bones reknit. Her eyes refocused as her wounds were washed away.


    ¡°Art,¡± she pleaded, her hand grasping my own. ¡°Be careful. Please! He¡¯s¡­ He¡¯s powerful. Like you. I don¡¯t know what he was trying to do to me, but¡­ It was strange. He was doing something to my core, and¨C¡±


    I allowed my voice to be soft for a moment. ¡°I¡¯ll be careful, princess,¡± I said, my fingers pressing against her palm as my mana roved her for wounds. Yet I noted her words. Spellsong had tried to infect her core somehow, and before I¡¯d reached this cavern from Rinia¡¯s instructions, I¡¯d heard Tess¡¯ agonized screams. ¡°But you need to get your squadmates and escape from here. Go directly to the castle¨Cdon¡¯t wait for me. Tell Virion that I¡¯m engaging with Spellsong.¡±


    My childhood friend¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Spellsong?¡± she said, baffled as she used my arm to pull herself shakily to her feet. ¡°You mean the Alacryan¡­ The one who fought Aya?¡±


    I nodded gravely, sensing out of the edges of my perception as the smoke finally cleared. ¡°Go. Now!¡±


    Tess scrambled away, her eyes looking back with a deep, inset worry as she moved toward her unconscious teammates. I saw so much in the lines of her face¨Cher care, her fear, her hope¡­


    Dawn¡¯s Ballad was no longer trying to rip itself free of my grasp, shaking with every twitch and pull. The edge still gleamed with fuschia splashed through by ochre, but as the blood that coated the blade was slowly absorbed into the structure, I could almost feel as the makeup within changed. From where I held the matte black handle, an alien energy flowed through the acclorite in my palm, making my hand feel warm and relaxed.


    But that didn¡¯t matter. The rising anger¨CGrey¡¯s pure, focused anger¨Callowed me to stay in control even as I felt my body light up with strength as I siphoned mana from my core.


    Spellsong¨Cor as Uto had named him, Toren Daen¨Clooked none the worse for wear as he held my gaze, aside from a few strands of hair out of place. Featherstem runes that glimmered like hot coals burned beneath his eyes, and the deep red chain inked along his left arm pulsed rhythmically. He wasn¡¯t wearing a mask like the last time I¡¯d seen him, revealing the same features I¡¯d seen in Uto¡¯s vision.


    A massive construct of bronze metal loomed behind him, matching its burning eyes with Sylvie¡¯s. It looked charred and damaged from something, the feathers and intricate plating sloughing as if they had been dunked in acid. Though I felt a different sort of trepidation and uncertainty clutch at my mana core from how that massive creature¡¯s eyes twisted, I would have to trust my bond to handle it.


    Uto¡¯s vision had made everything so much more complicated. Scythe Seris Vritra¡¯s allegiances and motives became even more murky and indistinct in the wake of that knowledge, but now I realized that that didn¡¯t matter. I¡¯d spent the last month training to face an existential threat to all the other Lances, and here he was before me. I¡¯d watched him hurt Tess, that black sludge poised to sink right into her core.


    It doesn¡¯t matter what Seris is planning, I thought, gnashing my teeth as I leveled Dawn¡¯s Ballad at Toren. Realmheart Physique slipped to the forefront of my mind, turning my hair the color of snow. The wash of insight made the entire world feel more alive as color drained from my vision. Soon, all I could see amidst the grayscale were the red motes of fire mana, the green of wind, the yellow of earth, and the blue of water.


    And one, final color. The purple of aether revealed itself to me, a veritable torrent of the energy streaming from Dawn¡¯s Ballad and into the acclorite in my palm.


    But as my eyes drifted to Toren Daen¡¯s heart, I remembered my bond¡¯s terrified words from what felt like an age ago. ¡°So much aether,¡± she¡¯d lamented. ¡°So much.¡±


    Indeed, an overwhelming mass of purple particles flared and retreated around Toren¡¯s chest in time with his heartbeat.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± Toren said, his voice carrying on currents of sound mana. I almost thought he looked uncertain. Afraid. ¡°You should leave, Lance. Now.¡±


    My eyes¨Cwhich I knew had turned purple under the effects of Realmheart Physique¨Cnarrowed. I felt a strange sort of pull from Sylvia¡¯s Will¨Ca pulsing desire to move. To unfurl and become more. It resonated with something in the phoenix hybrid¡¯s words, or maybe his power.


    After all, as I stared at the glowing runes under his eyes, I was certain he bore the Will of an asura as well.


    ¡°You¡¯ve left me no choice but to be here, Toren Daen,¡± I said, flourishing my weapon as I called mana from my core. It flowed exceptionally quickly, my insight and understanding amplified by this form. ¡°Perhaps Seris has some plans. Perhaps she¡¯s really on our side. But with the danger you represent and the actions you¡¯ve taken today¡­¡± I settled my stance, preparing to fight. My aura flared as the ambient mana trembled, the very air itself seeming to hold its breath. ¡°You will die.¡±


    Sylvie roared once more, rising up onto her hind legs. In turn, the clockwork beast behind Toren puffed out its molten chest, screeching in challenge.


    Spellsong, however, still appeared unsure. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this, Godspell,¡± he tried, and I thought I could sense fear in his tone. He took a step back from me as my aura washed over him.


    I sneered, my eyes flashing like a shark smelling blood. ¡°You can¡¯t escape the consequences of your actions so easily, Spellsong,¡± I shot back. ¡°You won¡¯t talk your way out of retribution for all your people have done to our continent.¡±


    Something in my words sparked a change in my enemy. His face twisted with anger as all fear bled away, his stance shifting as he resolved himself to fight at last. The fear didn¡¯t so much as leave him as it was devoured by something else.


    Toren pressed something on his chest, and a layer of bronze armor¨Cthe color almost matching the creature behind him¨Coverlaid his body. ¡°So be it,¡± he said in a growl that warped the air. ¡°You want to fight for what you think is right? I¡¯ll fight you, Arthur Leywin. I¡¯ll prove your folly.¡±


    Yet neither of us moved. In the background, Tessia desperately hauled her comrades away toward one of the cavern exits. My aura flared and clashed with Toren Daen¡¯s as I waited with bated breath. I felt as if the world itself was a rubber band, stretching and stretching and stretching as two impossible forces strained within its confines, each demanding release.


    Then Tessia finally left the cavern, hauling all three of her teammates behind her with conjured vines. For a bare instant, I met her eyes. Her turquoise eyes were painted in half a dozen different shades of green, each seeming to convey their own unique emotion. Fear, pain, worry, anger, something more¡­


    And then she was gone, leaving my sight.


    I burst forward, using a coating of wind to propel myself along strides of mana. Overhead, Sylvie and the strange bronze bird surged in tandem, rushing toward each other like two colossal titans. Toren summoned a blade of red plasma as I closed the distance, deftly deflecting a swipe from Dawn¡¯s Ballad. Mana flared and sparked as I thrust again, taking the initiative as energy swirled and roared around us.


    High above, my bond collided with the metal construct, a resounding clash of rending bronze tearing through the cavern. I took a step forward, ironing my stance as I engaged my enemy in swordplay.


    I swung downward, feinting with a high strike before pulling my arms back and driving my blade forward in a thrust.


    Toren didn¡¯t fall for my initial feint. He seemed to know my intent before I did as he swept my blade to the side, the interlocking of our weapons a deadly hum. Red sparks flew as the swirl of mana imbued in my sword rebounded and pinged off the agitated fire, sound, and pure mana threading through my enemy¡¯s saber. Then he flowed forward, a nimbus of swirling energy building along his fist. It erupted near point-blank, but a simple wind spell was already pulling me to the side, closer inside his guard.


    Before I could bury my blade in the phoenix hybrid¡¯s gut, though, a sparkle of whitish mana at the edge of my vision forced me to duck. That strange spell of his whipped at my hair.


    I snarled, lashing out with a kick that I hoped would crater his knees. But with impressive speed, the Asclepius Retainer shifted to the side, waving a clenched hand. His orange eyes gleamed as his aura pulsed.


    An array of tiny beads of plasma shot toward me from his palms with a thunderclap. I only had an instant to recognize their danger before I was moving again, conjuring a wall of water that hissed and steamed whenever that plasma hit it.


    I emerged from my makeshift shield, all four elements of mana swirling around my blade as I blurred back into close range.


    Toren was fast¨Cfaster than me, even. His saberwork was pristine and polished in a way I¡¯d rarely ever encountered. His movements were focused on speed and precise counters that made me hesitate to overextend, lest I find a talon embedded in my gut.


    But even if he was faster than me and physically stronger, my technique was superior. Even as his plasma saber weaved and snapped at Dawn¡¯s Ballad in flashes of red that hissed and sparked, I held the advantage through sheer skill.


    I smashed Toren¡¯s weapon to the side, disrupting his balance. My eyes flashed as I sensed weakness, stomping my foot and conjuring a shell of earth around one of the mage¡¯s feet and trapping him.


    Like a razor grimalkin honing in on a kill, I swiped my sword at my prone enemy, the blade glistening with all four attributes of mana. But I was forced to divert my attack as a flurry of stones and crystal shards¨Ceach outlined in white¨Csurged in from the side.


    Toren ripped his way free of the stone encasing his leg, then surged up into the air with a burst of fire and force. He twisted midair as his feet struck a spire that jutted from the ceiling, conjuring a score of plasma spheres around his head, each the size of a bowling ball. With the effects of Realmheart, I could see and feel as the mana coalesced at a frightening speed, sound mana agitating and goading the fire to absurd heights.


    A barrage of solid plasma shot toward me, the air around the attack warping from the heat contained within. In response, I waved a hand, commanding the particles of ambient wind mana to obey my call.


    A layer of wind magic intercepted Spellsong¡¯s attack, slowing its momentum by a frightening amount. Using Elder Camus¡¯ technique of altered air pressure allowed me to fundamentally halt most attacks in their tracks if I timed it correctly, but as sound magic was a deviant of wind, it wasn¡¯t nearly as affected as I wanted.


    I ducked, avoiding the spheres of solid plasma as they burned holes into the earth around me in slow motion. I exhaled, concentrating on the mana reserves in my core. Then I coalesced a claw of ice around my palm, before imbuing it with a stream of white flames. The result was a blue-white blaze of frostfire that simultaneously froze and burned anything it touched as the mana formed a gauntlet that encased my arm.


    So much power, I thought, feeling as I sank deeper into the embrace of Sylvia¡¯s Will. There was an almost lulling cadence radiating along my body as my white-tinged hair lengthened slightly, the familiar influence of my once-grandmother buoying my thoughts as her Will resonated with another. Let¡¯s see if you can counter this, Spellsong.


    I swung my hand upward, a violent claw of frostfire rippling out as it expanded. It hissed and popped and seared as it surged unerringly toward Toren Daen, who hastily thrust both hands in front of himself. I saw the mana coalescing there; felt as it built and built and built. A sphere of plasma slowly expanded over his palms as he prepared to try and meet my claws of frostfire as they roared toward him.


    Then he released it, the beam of red plasma surging toward my spell. They met in the middle, meshing in an intricate dance as they intertwined for a moment. A pulsing interplay of red, white, and blue hummed through the atmosphere, the ambient mana shearing apart from the clash. Fire, ice, and sound mana dueled for utmost supremacy.


    And then they exploded, a spherical turbulence of frostfire and shimmering plasma radiating outward in an expanding sphere as the tension snapped. I hastily conjured a thick wall of earth in front of me as the effects neared, bracing myself against the stone as the ground grew red-hot from the heat in the atmosphere. The spires of crystal froze over, then heated again in equal measure as the vortex of power expanded.


    I felt Sylvie¡¯s anger and frustration as she clashed with the creature Toren Daen kept as a companion. Intermittent flashes of black wings and the hum of sound and fire mana in the air kept me conscious of their battle.


    What kind of beast can keep up with an asura, I wondered with gritted teeth, much less a dragon?


    Sylv, are you alright? I thought to her as the wave of exploding power washed over my bunker, whipping at my white hair.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Arthur,¡± Sylvie shot back quickly, uncharacteristically determined. ¡°Focus on your own fight!¡±


    I engaged Thunderclap Impulse on instinct, the internal lightning mana¨Ctinged black from the effects of Realmheart¨Csurging along my nerves and accelerating my perception of everything. The billowing waves of frostfire and plasma ground almost to a halt as the speed of my brain overclocked, giving me heightened awareness.


    I watched as Toren Daen burst through the cloud of mana particles. He was singed all over, more than a few signs of frostbite on his arms and legs from rushing through the spells. He wasn¡¯t moving slowly like everything else, his determined orange eyes locked on me as he cocked back his arm. The Asclepius hybrid¡¯s plasma saber elongated, shifting form as crystalline plates overlapped it to become a massive hammer. Fire bled from it, leaving only sound. With my nerves enhanced, I could see as the purple particles of aether supported and bolstered the mana around them, unnaturally providing structured support for the entire conjured weapon. Sound mana traveled along the hammer as he prepared to bring it down on me.


    My mind flashed with a hundred different options as I calculated the best way to meet this attack. I settled on one in a nanosecond, raising Dawn¡¯s Ballad as fast as I could and bracing it against my other palm. I envisioned a tunnel of earth mana flowing along my veins and muscles and into the floor beneath me as I stood rigidly, prepared for the pain that would follow.


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    Even under the effects of my spell, my speed only barely allowed me to react to Spellsong¡¯s surprise attack. His crystalline hammer smashed into the flat of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, and for an instant, I feared my weapon might break as the sheer force of the attack rippled throughout my body.


    I¡¯d been struck hard before. I faced Elder Buhndemog¡¯s titanic blows every single day, honing my body and learning how to apply his force dispersion technique. I¡¯d faced General Varay constantly during my training, preparing myself exactly for this moment. Kordri had made sport of obliterating me at every moment within the aether orb until I could finally match his preplanned movements.


    But the amount of power behind the hammer¡¯s swing still made my entire body tremble and shake. The crash of Toren¡¯s conjured hammer and the scream of my sword on impact resounded throughout the cavern like the sound of an asura¡¯s gong. A shockwave rippled out from the epicenter, obliterating every spike of crystal in a fifty-foot radius around us.


    The majority of the force was successfully funneled into the stone beneath me as I diverted the impact. The ground cracked and shattered, a crater the size of a house opening beneath me as the force dispersed.


    I felt my body tremble and ache from the effort of it, but Spellsong didn¡¯t even give me time to reorient. I spotted a flare of mana appearing on the ground around me like stilts, before he twisted unnaturally in the air. A punch laden with sound mana thundered for my face.


    I barely had the wherewithal to hastily pull myself down, the Asclepius hybrid¡¯s unnatural maneuverability and absurd speed keeping me on the backfoot even with Thunderclap Impulse engaged. The vibrating assault whizzed past my ear, clipping a lock of hair and causing it to fall in electrically charged slow motion.


    He¡¯s used fire, sound, and that strange telekinesis, I thought quickly as I pivoted, conjuring interlocking tendrils of black lightning over my hands. I let the spell fly, the electricity seeking my foe like a tidal wave.


    He didn¡¯t even try to dodge it. Instead, the sparks surged throughout his body, electrifying every nerve and setting his hair on end. The Asclepius Retainer¡¯s teeth were clenched as he spasmed. For a moment, I thought that this was it: that I¡¯d managed a solid blow.


    Except I watched as purple aether particles surged from the Asclepius hybrid¡¯s heart, following the path where my spell had damaged him. In real-time, I sensed as the damage I¡¯d done to him healed over.


    And then his fist struck my face.


    My mana shroud shattered as I rocketed off toward the edge of the cavern. My vision flashed and my consciousness winked in and out as I hit the edge of the crater, a long furrow of dirt and debris trailing in the wake of my body. Thunderclap Impulse sputtered out as I lost focus, the black lightning fizzling away.


    It was only that strange current of aether that flowed from my sword that kept me fully awake and alert. I snarled, spitting out a mouthful of blood as I kipped back to my feet. My body ached and protested at the movement: the act of diverting the hammer blow earlier had left me boneless and tired, and I could already feel a bruise forming from the cut along my jaw. I felt like I¡¯d run a marathon after being hit by a dozen landslides. My core throbbed from the effort of maintaining Realmheart, but for some reason, it wasn¡¯t nearly as strenuous as it usually was.


    In the depths of my subconscious, I knew it was because something was¡­ unraveling. Waking up.


    The runes along my arms glowed a deep yellow as I stared at Spellsong. His breathing was slightly uneven, and from how the aether in his chest flowed, I could tell he¡¯d healed the physical damage he¡¯d taken.


    He¡¯s willing to take hits just to deal me damage, I thought with narrowed eyes. Because he can afford to heal them back over with his strange vivum arts. Part of his phoenix heritage, I¡¯m guessing. Or maybe something he can do because of his Will.


    I¡¯d spent the last month in training focusing on increasing not just the power of my elemental magic, but my versatility and tactical thinking as well. Spellsong was physically stronger than me, faster, and showed an ability to maneuver and control his body in a way that boggled the mind. He used fire, sound, and telekinetic magic to his advantage in a deadly style, each attack as graceful as an asura in a hunter¡¯s dance.


    Think, Arthur, I berated myself as my hands clenched over my sword. Something was happening between the acclorite in my palm and my treasured weapon, but I couldn¡¯t afford to focus on that. How can you circumvent this? What strategy will allow you to come out on top?


    Spellsong suddenly looked upward, his eyes widening behind his bronze mask. I felt a spike of pain and agony, but it wasn¡¯t my own. No, it was Sylvie¡¯s.


    My bond¡¯s draconic bulk crashed into the ground between Spellsong and me. And the ground shattered.


    Stones crumbled as the several tons of Sylvie¡¯s bloodied body obliterated the earth, opening a hole deeper into the dungeon. The cavern floor trembled and cracked, before the entire floor caved in.


    Sylvie! I thought with mounting worry, my eyes widening in panic and fear as we all hurtled into a blackened abyss. We tumbled in tandem for a moment, the pit beneath us a yawning maw. Sylvie, speak to me!


    I didn¡¯t get a response outside of pain. A streak of decimated bronze surged downward with the lithe grace of a predator seeking prey, and the construct of metal slammed into my bond with the force of a train. Draconic blood sprayed across the falling stones, my bond bellowing in pain. The clockwork construct¨Cwhich was torn apart in a hundred different places by Sylvie¡¯s claws and melted in more¨Cscreeched in triumph as they both surged further down into the blackness of this pit, its talons around my bond¡¯s throat. My bond bit and clawed and tried to wrestle her way out, but despite how many attacks she landed, the clockwork bird didn¡¯t seem to feel pain.


    Spellsong didn¡¯t let my fear and worry pass. He planted his feet on one of the falling pieces of rubble, a swirl of mana building along the soles of his boots. Then he shot toward me in a burst of fire and pure force. The rock beneath his feet shattered, the remnants spraying into the darkness.


    I barely brought Dawn¡¯s Ballad up in time, the clash of his plasma saber and my purple-tinged weapon sending me spinning through the dark. I caught a flash of his burning eyes and gritted teeth as our weapons collided, before he darted to another bit of falling rock.


    Sensing what was coming, I used a hasty twist of wind mana to try and change my trajectory. Just in time, Spellsong blurred back toward me. I sent out a wave of electrically charged air, meshing the black lightning with Elder Camus¡¯ air pressure technique. Toren hit the spell, but with a flex of sound mana, he blurred through it again, lightning burns littering his skin and making his armor flash as he swung at me again.


    As we fell through the abyss, I desperately tried to keep up with the Asclepius hybrid¡¯s speed and maneuverability, trying to keep him at bay as he darted around in the darkness, using each of the bits of rubble as footholds to anchor himself and shoot toward me. Our blades flashed and arced as we exchanged spell after spell, my fevered attempts to slow him down and halt his movement falling short as he willingly took whatever damage he needed and his armor turned away anything worse. Intermittent uses of Thunderclap Impulse and wind magic were all that allowed me to keep my head as each attack came closer and closer to relieving me of it.


    And far, far below, my bond¡¯s struggles had gone silent.


    I yelled in anger, the ambient mana trembling as the runes along my body shifted. Realmheart cloaked me like a shroud as I caught Toren¡¯s wrist on his next attack, then used his momentum against him to hurl him downward. Just like I¡¯d trained with Kordri¨Cusing my enemy¡¯s strength against them. Toren tried to use his telekinetic spell to latch onto more falling rubble, but I denied him. With a twist of mental effort, I forced every bit of rubble away, using the earth mana within to grab hold of them.


    I glared daggers at Toren as we hurtled downward. My body screamed at me, my muscles burning and my breath coming up short from how I¡¯d been pushing myself. Yet at the same time, it felt¡­ strange. Reinforced; invigorated in a way I¡¯d never experienced before. The aether flowing along the course of Dawn¡¯s Ballad flared brightly.


    I have it, I thought, gritting my teeth as a strategy finally cemented itself into my mind. I know how to win this.


    A light bloomed from below as we finally reached the end of our fall. I felt my eyes widen as the subsequent expanse revealed itself to me.


    A hundred buildings littered a cave below. I might have compared them to the dwarven craft, except the architecture was nothing like them. Vines and trees and other plants entirely subsumed the small city we were falling toward, creating a jungle of a forgotten civilization. The aether in the air¨Cvisible as purple particles that moved without any clear pattern¨Cwas dense and alive in a way I¡¯d never felt before.


    But I couldn¡¯t afford to divert my attention too much. The ground was fast approaching, and my mana reserves were beginning to run low. If I wanted to win this battle, I needed to act now.


    I thrust a hand out, calling to the ambient mana. Far below me, ice crystallized from the waiting particles of water mana. The frost flowed and solidified, rising a dozen yards to meet me in an inverted crescent. My feet hit the ramp, the slight gradient slowly changing the direction of my downward fall as I arced toward Toren Daen.


    I slid on boots of ice as I hefted my sword, my downward tumble changed to a near-horizontal change in an instant. Toren¡¯s eyes widened in surprise and fear as my blade¨Ccovered in a cutting edge of water¨Cswung toward his head as I prepared to intercept his own fall. It wasn¡¯t a graceful cut: no, I was swinging for all I was worth, using the momentum and leveraging both my arms to strike like I was swinging a tree-felling axe.


    The phoenix hybrid brought his saber of conjured plasma in between us. This time, he was the one who was forced to brace as Dawn¡¯s Ballad smashed into his sword. For an instant, we were locked in time as our blades collided. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As the water around my weapon evaporated from contact with the searing plasma, I called on another technique I¡¯d begun to utilize when sparring with Lance Varay in particular. Steam billowed out quickly as my muscles strained, my bones creaking from the force I exerted.


    I gritted my teeth, then followed through. The steam that had gathered in that split instant exploded along the course of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, the exponential size increase of the evaporating liquid adding another layer of power to my attack.


    A sonic boom echoed out as Toren¡¯s body shot backward in a blur. He smashed through a vine-covered building¡¯s walls, disappearing beyond in a cavalcade of dust and debris. But I knew he was still alive.


    I skated to a halt, my eyes scanning the cavern frantically. Sylv! I thought, feeling the acute absence of my bond¡¯s presence. Sylv, where are you?!


    I couldn¡¯t see her or the massive construct of bronze metal, but¨C


    I jumped upward, twisting to avoid three slashes of plasma as they cut through nearby buildings with ease. I threw myself at my enemy with a mix of anger and exhaustion, my body demanding I do anything but. I had to physically restrain my limbs from shaking as I began to close the distance with a mix of fire and wind erupting from the soles of my feet.


    A flurry of rocks and debris flew at me, controlled by the Asclepius hybrid¡¯s telekinetic magic. I swatted some away. Cut through others. And others I met with a chain of black lightning that made each bit of earth evaporate into dust as it bounced from stone to stone. A half dozen spheres of sound detonated around me, but I enhanced my ears and covered them with a layer of wind mana that blocked it out.


    And then I was upon him. Toren tried to gain distance on me again, knowing he couldn¡¯t hope to win in a battle of pure swordsmanship. That telekinetic magic of his appeared insanely fast, just like Uto¡¯s black spikes. It seemed to phase into existence without a second of thought.


    But one of the greatest techniques that I¡¯d trained in the past month was my ability to counter other mage¡¯s spells. With the effects of Realmheart connecting me to the physical realm in a way no others could replicate and granting me insane sense for the ambient mana, I could influence and affect other spells as they were being formed.


    Like now.


    I engaged Thunderclap Impulse, my nerves screaming in protest as lightning funneled down their length once more. My perception of the world slowed as my eyes tracked the formation of Toren¡¯s telekinetic pulls. Then I sent a few specks of specific mana out toward it.


    And his spell imploded before it could even form in a resounding pop.


    Toren¡¯s eyes widened in panic as I thrust my sword at him. He tried to conjure half a dozen more spells, but each time they appeared, I intercepted them. My mind burned and spun with the effort of it all, but it was necessary.


    Unable to run and unable to hide, Toren was forced onto my playing field. For all that he was faster and stronger than me, I was the better swordsman. This was a game I¡¯d played in every battle as King Grey. When my foes were destined to be stronger, I held to skill.


    And when Toren was unable to rely on his maneuverability, he was a lamb waiting for the slaughter.


    Our blades flashed as they collided in an intricate dance, humming and sparking. Each time the edges met in the intimate way only swords could, Toren left the exchange with a little more damage. A cut here. A tear to his armor there. An attack that would nearly sever his vitals. Half a dozen wounds along his body glimmered with different mana attributes.


    It¡¯s working, I thought, feeling my lips curve up into a grin as my eyes danced. Toren¡¯s face was a mask of concentration and resigned anger as I gradually wore him down. Our blades were crescents of red and blue as Dawn¡¯s Ballad demanded more of his blood, absorbing each speck that coated it and making the aether that coursed through it flare even brighter.


    I heard a resounding screech echo throughout the cavern. I chanced the barest glance to the side, feeling my stomach plummet as I saw the monstrous metal bird surging toward me. It looked like it had been through hell: slags of metal had melted in odd places, and all across its body it bore signs of its struggle with my bond.


    And Sylvie¡­ Sylvie lay prone a hundred yards away, blood streaming from a hundred wounds. She was a tapestry of broken black scales.


    The construct¡¯s claws extended, familiar plasma burning along their edge. I was forced to divert from Toren as I blocked the swipe of those talons, several tons of metal trying to crush me to the ground. I was forced onto my back as one of the talons wrapped around Dawn¡¯s Ballad. I felt a snarl build in the back of my throat as I avoided the creature¡¯s gnashing beak, before weaving my blade out from the thing¡¯s plasma talons. I rolled over my shoulder, coming to my feet as my bones ached. In the same movement, I swept my sword upward.


    When my blade tore a streak through the bronze metal, I was surprised to hear the thing scream in pain. As it did so, it didn¡¯t sound nearly as beastlike¨Cmore like the agonizing cry of a woman. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was more from surprise or agony as it stumbled backward on massive talons, the gash I¡¯d torn leaking aetheric light.


    Dawn¡¯s Ballad came away burning. Aether rushed along my veins in a way that defied possibility as it enmeshed with the acclorite in my palm, absorbed into it. And in turn, the acclorite was starting to change, too¨Ca steady warmth spread along my muscles and bones that contrasted the burning of fatigue and the aching twinge of my depleting core.


    I stumbled, feeling woozy and dizzy as the acclorite began to¡­ spread across my body, infusing my physique and¡ª


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Sylvie¡¯s voice rolled across my mind, raw and hurt and barely conscious. ¡°Arthur, you need to dodge!¡± she cried. ¡°Move! Now, please! Or you¡¯ll die!¡±


    I blinked, the world coming back into focus for an instant. And I suddenly felt it. Over the past minute or so, an absolutely absurd concentration of mana had been building. Sound and fire and telekinesis made the entire atmosphere tremble as they were just about to¡ª


    I used Static Void in a panic, the world around me freezing as aevum separated me from the world¡¯s flow of time. The particles of ambient mana around me froze in place as I engaged part of Sylvia¡¯s Will.


    As I fell to my knees on the earth, the backlash of forcing such a strenuous technique into the air making itself known, I thought I could hear her. Sylvia, my grandmother. She¡­ She called to me. Told me that this was not my fight. It¡­ It was hers. Within my core, she told me that she could handle this.


    I lifted my head, turning toward where I¡¯d felt that horrible conglomeration of mana.


    And came face to face with a spear of red plasma. I could see the still shockwave trailing behind it as it utterly obliterated the sound barrier, an inch off from striking my chest. Toren Daen¡¯s hand was frozen in the act of a throw, his arm spraying blood from a rebound of mana. A stream of mana particles stretched in front of him, almost like a guiding rail for this spear that had nearly burrowed through me.


    I stumbled to the side, my body feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and rejuvenation as the acclorite in my palm spread. I didn¡¯t know what was happening to the weapon Wren had said would form from the little stone, but I couldn¡¯t afford to think now.


    Move, Arthur! I screamed at myself. Move!


    I shifted myself clear of the streaking spear, then allowed time to resume. I slumped from the recoil of using Sylvia¡¯s aether art, my core nearing empty.


    I didn¡¯t even see the spear of plasma move as a single spell, only a streak of solid red as it melted through two dozen buildings without ceasing. My eyes widened in surprise and fear as I witnessed the destructive capabilities of the attack. The rims of the holes in the stone gleamed from the heat.


    If that had hit me, I thought, feeling my body go cold, then there wouldn¡¯t even be anything left.


    ¡°I¡¯m fucking done,¡± I heard a ragged voice say behind me. ¡°Done holding back. Done hiding away and biding my time. Done trying and trying and trying to stay myself!¡± Toren Daen yelled, anger and grief assaulting me from the ambient mana itself. ¡°You want to fight me, Arthur Leywin? You want to face me, Lance of Dicathen?¡±


    I felt my face drain of color as a foreboding feeling rose from the very depths of Sylvia¡¯s Will, the resonance within becoming a thundering heartbeat. Toren¡¯s fists clenched as he stared at me, the runic tattoos under his eyes beginning to expand as he snarled in fury. I saw as his golden-blonde hair began to shift to a deep, deep red that seemed to shift in a wind none could feel.


    And his eyes¡­ They began to glow, as if melting under the weight of a star.


    ¡°And you know what?¡± he said, his voice a raw, agonized whisper. ¡°I can complete my oath. Right here, right now. I only need to kill one. One anchor.¡±


    I engaged Static Void once more, knowing that I couldn¡¯t allow this transformation to complete. Sylvia rose up within me as the world froze to a halt, and¨C


    A heartbeat like thunder echoed through the frozen time, seeming to rattle me to my core and shaking the frozen world itself. I stared in a mix of horror and uncomprehension at Toren Daen, the aether around his heart flaring in rejection of my spell. He hadn¡¯t turned gray like the rest of the world. No, the pulse of his heart allowed him to move in this stopped time.


    His eyes¨Ceach like suns¨Cburned a hole straight into my soul. Runes like intricate feathers covered his arms, glowing in rejection of the aevum spell. Toren¡¯s voice was a melody that promised searing death. ¡°I can simply kill you, King Grey.¡±

 Chapter 206: Transcendence

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I felt Aurora¡¯s pain as if it were my own, her scream¨Cmore of surprise than of the agony she truly felt¨Ctearing across my mind.


    It only cemented my resolve further. I ground my teeth, my head feeling as if it had been dunked inside a vat of acid as I struggled to maintain control of the building mana of the Stake of the Morning. My hands clenched around the hasta of solid plasma as I felt my thoughts center on one, single thought.


    He hurt my bond, I thought, my eyes dilating as they focused on Dawn¡¯s Ballad. The sword¨Cwhich had torn a clean cut through Aurora¡¯s Relic exterior¨Cwas glowing. I could feel the reaction of heartfire within it as it began to morph and change, the blade seeming to almost melt as it streamed into Arthur¡¯s palm. He hurt Aurora.


    ¡°I am fine, Toren!¡± Aurora yelled as she pedaled away limply, though her voice was strained. ¡°Just do what you need to do!¡± she added, her mind fuzzy.


    As the spear of solid plasma settled into my palm and the guiding stream of telekinesis flashed like lights along an airway, my addled mind focused on one thing.


    Images of all those I¡¯d met in this world flashed before my eyes. Naereni, with her devious smirk and darting eyes. Wade¡¯s inherent desire for knowledge. Sevren¡¯s severe stare and burning passion for those he loved. Caera¡¯s nonchalant confidence. Seris¡¯ careful smile, something hopeful and terrible churning beneath like ever-shifting energies of yin and yang.


    And like the shadow cast by a looming mountain, the grave reflections filtered through next. The man I¡¯d failed to save so long ago in the Clarwood Forest, his abdomen melted through as I failed to reach him in time. The broken eyes of Alun as he saw his zombified wife in the Undead Zone, moments before he was ripped from life. And the hundreds¨Cno, thousands¨Cwho had died in the Plaguefire Incursion.


    And finally, Hornfels Earthborn¡¯s broken stare as he saw the corpse of his brother. The brother I had slain. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I can stop it all, I thought, a thread of resolve worming through my mind like underlying rot. I won¡¯t need to kill anymore. To take away any more brothers. To ruin any more innocent lives.


    And all I needed to do¡­ All it would take¡­


    Arthur was stumbling to his feet, the runic tattoos on his arms churning and seeming to swell as he swayed drunkenly. The hope of this world¨Cthe only being who would stand between Kezess Indrath and Agrona Vritra¨Cshifted weakly as his exhaustion was made manifest.


    I hurled the Stake of the Morning, not allowing myself to think.


    And Arthur appeared suddenly to the side as if he¡¯d teleported, my attack searing through everything in its path as it continued unerringly through this city¨Cwhich I knew was an abandoned djinni sanctuary.


    Static Void, I thought angrily, Aurora¡¯s exhaustion and weariness from whatever Dawn¡¯s Ballad had done to her bleeding through our connection. Of course it couldn¡¯t be that simple, could it?


    ¡°I¡¯m fucking done,¡± I said at last, my fevered mind settling onto that one, certain truth. ¡°Done holding back. Done hiding away and biding my time. Done trying and trying and trying to stay myself!¡± I yelled, the mana around me flexing and warping with my intent. Hornfels¡¯ rabid fury burned itself into my retinas as if by a brand, the haunting memory scraping at my sanity. Arthur was so happy to just try and attack me. And I¡¯d restrained myself so far. But if what he wanted was to die? ¡°You want to fight me, Arthur Leywin? You want to face me, Lance of Dicathen?¡± I snarled, calling on my Phoenix Will.


    Aurora¡¯s control of her relic lapsed as her mind was brought close to my own, Soulplume rising from the depths of my core. I glared at Arthur Leywin¨Cthis world¡¯s only hope. But also¡­


    Also one of the anchors for the Legacy.


    ¡°And you know what?¡± I said, speaking to nobody¨Cto nothing¨Cin particular. The words I uttered clawed themselves out like some sort of decrepit creature from the depths of Mardeth¡¯s torture chambers. The monsters within the labyrinth of Taegrin Caelum¡¯s vaults couldn¡¯t have been as vile as the resolve that surged through me. ¡°I can complete my oath. Right here; right now. I only need to kill one. One anchor.¡±


    I sensed the next act in Arthur¡¯s intent before he even held the conscious thought.


    I forced my heart to beat, just as I had when I faced the yeti within the mountain zone. My lifeforce flared like a fire that had been doused in gasoline.


    And as the world turned monochrome from the surging timestop spell that Arthur had engaged, the aether of my heart pressed back against the encroaching separation from time. My eyes locked onto those of my fellow reincarnate; one of the only people in this world who might understand me. ¡±I can simply kill you, King Grey,¡± I whispered, clenching Inversion in my hand.


    Arthur¡¯s control of the aetheric spell faltered, then broke as my words touched him. I felt his intent warp with uncertainty and fear as he registered what I had uttered. Understood that I knew his deepest secret.


    ¡°What are you¨C¡± he started. But I didn¡¯t let him finish.


    I moved. One instant I was a hundred yards away; the next I was in front of my foe. Arthur didn¡¯t even have time to react as my hand wrapped around his face in a crushing grip, the skin there sizzling from the heat of my body.


    I hurled him toward one of the larger stone buildings. His body smashed through it as if the stones were paper. I vaguely noticed as Aurora¡¯s relic receded from its Vessel form, the molten structure folding into its feathered brooch as my bond was drawn close to my mind.


    ¡°Toren, don¡¯t lose yourself,¡± I heard her think to me. Or was I thinking that? Under the effects of my Phoenix Will, it became uncertain whose thoughts were whose. ¡°Ask yourself! Do you want this?¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer her as I stalked forward, white fire trailing in my wake. My heart pounded in my chest, the noise drowning out all else as my blood churned. I¡¯d already killed innocents. I¡¯d already killed brothers. What was one more?


    Miniature storm clouds formed around me as I continued onward, the ionized insides crackling and sparking with black lightning and eddies of wind. I ignored them as the mana within built.


    Little motes of ice popped into existence around me, the ambient mana bending in one last desperate gamble. A domain of glittering snowfall finally surrounded my burning form.


    And then the stormclouds began to hurl their fury at the world. Bolts of lightning the color of night snapped out from the miniature nimbuses of mana, arcing into the snowfall. Wherever that black lightning struck, it rebounded, bouncing from mote to mote to mote.


    With each cascading chain effect, an aura of icy cold seemed to grow within the crackling roar of thunder. I was surrounded by a demented snowglobe of voltaic black death, those tendrils arcing like an impossible net.


    And then they struck, surging inward in a tide of death. Electricity skittered across my telekinetic shroud, no longer able to pierce my defenses as I stalked forward. The ice imbued in those bolts tried and failed to make my body temperature shift at all. The hairs on the back of my neck sparked and jumped as the ionized particles brushed past them.


    But as I was now, imbued with the weight of countless lives of asuran insight? This was nothing.


    I waved my hand, conjuring a dozen feathers of solid white fire as each lightning bolt skittered across my shroud. Each feather sparkled and pulsed from compressed sound mana within, their intricate makeup almost a work of art. Then I clenched my fist.


    Under the influence of my telekinetic emblem, the feathers zipped away as if of their own accord, each flitting to a single cloud as they dipped and weaved around the black lightning. Like hummingbirds seeking a flower¡¯s nectar, they delved into the originating stormclouds with glee.


    And then they detonated, rippling outward with a burst of vibrating sound mana and tongues of fire. The clouds dispersed violently, kicking up rocks and dust as they were forcefully destroyed. The snowfall was turned to steam, and then nothing at all as white fire engulfed everything.


    And I felt the heartfire of my foe dip in exhaustion, his mana signature faltering and growing dim after his last assault. From within the building I¡¯d thrown him, Arthur Leywin¨CGodspell, King, and Lance¨Clay broken in a heap of rubble, blood streaming from his lips as his Beast Will began to recede from near-backlash. His eyes watched me with quiet despair as I raised a finger, concentrating fire and sound mana along the tip.


    My anger redoubled as I stared into his eyes, preparing to deal the finishing blow, yet hesitating all the same. You¡¯re supposed to be everyone¡¯s hope! I thought with irrational hatred. Supposed to make things better. But you¡¯re a liability, just like Nico is.


    Aurora was silent in my head, a slow, mourning sap of emotion interlacing me like a smothering blanket. I couldn¡¯t tell where my emotions stopped and hers started. I was angry at Arthur: angry that he wasn¡¯t strong enough. Angry that I wasn¡¯t strong enough. But I also hated myself for seeing this option, while also recognizing its veracity.


    I can just let it all go, I thought, my eyes blurring with tears as the white plasma along my finger built. Two creatures warred inside of me: the craven fool who feared taking the next steps in this war. That knew the easy way out lay in front of him: forgoing the future and what was necessary for the world, there was a shortcut. A quick ¡®fix.¡¯


    And then there was the part of me that had been forged like iron through the hells I¡¯d faced in this world. The part that mourned the loss of my innocence, yet recognized it was a fleeting beauty that wouldn¡¯t ever come again. That knew, if I took this next step, it would be a sin beyond anything else I¡¯d done.


    Arthur¡¯s eyes were glazed as they awaited their end. Yet even in them, I saw defiance. A refusal to just die. From how his heart was beating, I knew he was trying to move. To save himself from my attack. But his limbs wouldn¡¯t respond.


    I released my spell, a blurring white line of plasma thrusting forward like the spear of a god. At the same time, I heard a mournful cry: Sylvie Indrath screamed in preemptive grief and terror as my attack neared her bond.


    And my attack burned a hole through the wall beside the Lance¡¯s head, sparing his skull. Arthur wasn¡¯t conscious any longer, having long since reached exhaustion. I gnashed my teeth, clenching my hands as I turned away. My adrenaline still pumped, and despite the closeness of my bond to my thoughts, that didn¡¯t settle them at all.


    I could separate us out easily enough, now. The emotions I felt regarding Arthur were complex and deeply rooted in the journey I¡¯d shared with him as I read the lines of a page, but Aurora had no such intimate care. Still, I questioned myself over and over, unsure of my choice. I could still turn around; finish the job. Fulfill my oath. And oaths were what made us human, weren¡¯t they? The ability to keep our word?


    I let out a howling bellow, the churning mass of emotion in my chest tearing its way from me as if ripped free with ragged, black claws. The ambient mana warped and trembled, my intent chaotic and broken as fire, sound and telekinetic force burst around me. Why couldn¡¯t I just make up my goddamn mind?!


    My chest heaved as I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes¨Cburning orange from the effects of my Second Phase¨Cdimming noticeably.


    ¡°Why does it hurt you so much?¡± a low, weak voice asked from behind me. ¡°I could¡­ feel it. Why does sparing him hurt you?¡±


    My eyes turned weakly to Sylvie. The massive dragon looked like she¡¯d been pressed through a blender as she gently used vivum on Arthur¡¯s body, the particles of purple sinking into his skin. I could feel her wariness; her own fear of me and what I could do. But this was Arthur¡¯s bond, the more mature one of the two.


    I felt my anger and chaotic surge melt away as I watched the scene. Sylvie seemed ready to act; to throw herself in front of her bond should I make a move. But my shoulders slumped, my Phoenix Will drifting back into my core as I abandoned Soulplume.


    Aurora had tended to me before in much the same way. My bond watched over me in a way none others could; just as Sylvie did for Arthur.


    In the place of my earlier irrational anger, I instead felt a sort of quiet, resigned despair. ¡°No matter what I do, Sylvie Indrath,¡± I said weakly, kneeling to pick up Aurora¡¯s molten relic, ¡°whether I spare your bond or kill him now, I condemn thousands to die. I simply damn them at different points.¡±


    The brooch looked little better than a lump of bronze slag. Apparently, the damage that the Vessel Form underwent translated to its compressed version. I could only pray that it would repair itself. That Aurora would get to fly once more.


    Sylvie stuttered to a stop in her treatment of Arthur, turning wide, reptilian yellow eyes to me. ¡°You know who I am?¡± she whispered quietly. Even at a low tone, her words made the air tremble slightly. A dragon indeed.


    I snorted. My tired mind had forgotten for a moment that Sylvie¡¯s true identity as a dragon¨Cmuch less the granddaughter of Kezess Indrath¨Chad been kept a secret from everyone, presumably most of the Alacryans as well. I felt the urge to simply lay down in this cavern and sleep. Perhaps if I did so, I wouldn¡¯t feel so broken.


    ¡°Grey was brought here for a reason,¡± I said to the looming dragon, unsure as to what I should say. How much I could afford to reveal without implicating myself should the knowledge go free. ¡°And if he¡¯s dead, then that reason will never come to pass,¡± I said weakly.


    Sylvie¡¯s eyes widened perceptibly as my tired words washed over her. ¡°You¨C You know how Arthur was reincarnated? You know why?¡± she said, shifting forward slightly.


    ¡°I¡¯m of the phoenix, Lady Indrath,¡± I said tiredly as I began to walk away, each step like a lead weight. ¡°Rebirth is the crux of our power. Did you think Arthur was the only one reincarnated into this world?¡±


    I felt Sylvie¡¯s emotions crack at my words as I began to walk away, confusion and disbelief raging like a typhoon. The mana in my core was regenerating quickly, yet the wounds all across my body were slow to heal. I had to resist the urge to limp as I surveyed my surroundings, recognizing this as a djinn sanctuary. A final resting place for them.


    And then I froze in my tracks, my eyes blowing wide as a wave of power washed over me. I nearly fell to my knees in surprise as it cinched shut around my heart like a vice, compelling me¡­ compelling my Will.


    On instinct, I embraced Soulplume once again. Power surged across my body as I followed the call of something resonating deeply with my strength. Some primal voice in my mind told me that if I didn¡¯t, I would die. That the unrelenting spear of power that blanketed me like death would claim the breath in my lungs as tribute.


    ¡°Aurora Asclepius,¡± an apathetic voice radiated out like the tide of a sea crashing against cliffs. The words themselves made the blood freeze in my veins, but I felt a rebounding terror of another sort wash through me as I felt the intent in the air.


    I turned robotically, bracing against the power in the air. Arthur stood across from me, pulsing with dread strength as his auburn hair turned snow white from Realmheart once more. The runes covering his arms elongated, shifting like a living tapestry and burning against every inch of his skin. But it was his eyes that scared me. For they weren¡¯t human: no, they were the empty, soulless husks I¡¯d seen within Greahd¡¯s void of a soul.


    ¡°An asura bound to a lesser¡¯s soul,¡± Arthur¨Cno, his Dragon¡¯s Will¨Csaid. The intent in the air¨Ca static emptiness that made fear surge through my veins¨Cswelled throughout the cavern. ¡°It does not matter.¡±


    Sylvie screamed out to her bond on instinct, telling him of the dangers of what was happening. That he could not handle it. Yet I already knew that from the way his heartfire¨Cshifting and moving from the influence of his acclorite¨Cbegan to squeeze like hands around a throat.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Arthur took a single step forward¨Cand suddenly, he was no longer in the same space. Faster than I could process, he¡¯d teleported, phasing into existence right beside me. Our eyes locked, the world moving in slow motion. His hand shimmered with purple light before smashing through my telekinetic shroud. Arthur¡¯s knuckles ground against my jaw, the bone cracking and splintering as the world lurched.


    I shot upward into the air, my vision flashing as my head rocked. On instinct, I tried to reorient, but Arthur was suddenly in front of me again.


    It was only the resonant pulse of his heartfire that gave me any indication as to his position. I pulled my arms inward on instinct, crossing them over my face as the next attack came. My forearms splintered and cracked as my foe punched me, the aether within his strike radiating across my body.


    Arthur said nothing as I shot diagonally back to the ground, a crack of thunder following in my wake. His intent said nothing; his eyes


    said nothing. The dread apathy of his Dragon¡¯s Will subsumed all.


    I crashed through a couple of buildings, the decrepit vines and crumbling ruins of the djinni sanctuary breaking from the sudden force before I finally neared the ground.


    I skidded backward, digging Inversion¡¯s shrouded saber into the ground to slow my movement. As I stared up at the Lance¨Cwho was hovering within a nimbus of purple¨CI gritted my teeth.


    His Third Phase, I thought with a spike of fear and confusion. But he¡¯s not at the white core yet. This was only supposed to happen when¨C


    Arthur held out his hand, the palm facing me. A swirling nimbus of white fire and swirling frost slowly built along his fingers, the ambient mana itself¨Cno, the very world¨Cseeming to bend under the behest of its God. The presence that radiated from him made my arms tremble and heart quake. Arthur¡¯s spell was tinged with specks of violet, the aether itself twisting to obey his call.


    Like an asura, I thought, a bit of repressed fear streaking through my mental space. The amount of power that coursed through the atmosphere was reminiscent of Aldir. Reminiscent of Aurora.


    Reminiscent of Agrona.


    ¡°You do not bow,¡± Arthur¡¯s apathetic voice said under the effect of his Will, his hand brimming with power. ¡°Unwise.¡±


    And then a torrent of aether-tinged frostfire roared toward me. Out of instinct and desperation, I threw out my hands, quickly condensing a beam of white plasma along my palms. The spell hummed with energy as the ambient mana itself seemed to reject my presence.


    I let the beam streak toward the Anchor¡¯s attack. They collided in a cascade of power, energy ripping and tearing itself apart. Steam and eddies of wind whipped and raged through the sanctuary in a roar that drowned out even my thundering heartbeat.


    For an instant, they were in a stalemate. My plasma arts and the remnant of Sylvia Indrath¡¯s barest intent smashed together, pulsing with the heat of asuran ghosts.


    My feet dug furrows into the earth as I was forced backward. Unwilling to let myself be broken by this, I threaded out my telekinesis around me, bolstering my body and fighting against the grinding push.


    It is getting more difficult, I belatedly realized as sweat streamed down my brow, to keep our minds separate. To remain distinct. We need to end this fast, lest Toren Daen cease to¨C


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Sylvie cried out mournfully. ¡°Arthur, stop! Your body! It can¡¯t take this! It¡¯s killing you!¡± she screamed, stumbling on weak legs toward where our struggle for power lay locked.


    ¡°Listen to your bond!¡± I yelled over the din, my voice melodic under the effects of my Will. ¡°You cannot sustain this power! It will be your end, Anchor!¡±


    Indeed, as both Toren Daen and Aurora Asclepius, we knew that the boy could not maintain this power. Sylvia Indrath¡¯s Will had accumulated insight for countless millennia¨Cand the secret of this ¡®Third Phase¡¯ was simple. Arthur Leywin¡¯s mind and body were being drowned in the full weight of that knowledge; that power. Perhaps he could get a little bit of insight out of it now, but his Vessel was too small. Too limited to truly make use of such might.


    Except there was something perpetuating this transformation. Something to do with the strange pulse of heartfire that had coursed from the sword after it had taken a piece of my soul and meshed with the stone in his palm.


    High above, Arthur sighed in arrogant disdain. ¡°You no longer bear the mantle of asura, Lady Dawn,¡± he said. ¡°You forfeited it with your life.¡±


    He waved his hand nonchalantly, and a tremble went through the ambient mana. A flash of black-purple lightning traveled along his stream of frostfire, before hopping onto my own spell.


    My eyes widened as the attack used my mana for purchase, redirecting itself toward me with the ferocity of a gnashing direwolf¡¯s teeth.


    I felt my mind burn as I engaged my telekinetic emblem, my reserves of mana creaking and warning me of the danger of pushing myself further. I used it to pull myself away from the streaking attacks, giving up on trying to hold back the aetheric fire.


    I pushed myself upward on stilts of telekinesis, blurring as I barely cleared the distance necessary. Beneath me, Arthur¡¯s spellfire tore into the earth, eating away at the stone with tongues of pinkish icy flame. A furrow a hundred feet long churned and roared as the lightning-enhanced frostfire carved its vengeance through the cavern.


    I watched out of the corner of my eye as Arthur took another step. Yet this time, I was prepared for his teleport.


    I spun midair, instincts honed over millennia of combat guiding me as I swung with a saber of white plasma. Arthur reappeared next to me in the air, a sword of ice touched by aether appearing to block my attack¨Cafter all, his sword had been absorbed into his palm. His apathetic purple eyes locked with mine as we struggled for a moment, steam rising between us.


    ¡°Once the greatest of your clan,¡± he said evenly, the golden runes that covered every inch of his skin flashing brighter for a moment. His heartfire cried out in anguish. ¡°Now, little more than a parasite.¡±


    ¡°You are not Sylvia Indrath,¡± I said in reply, gritting my teeth as my muscles strained against my foe¡¯s. Were I still in possession of my previous body, I wouldn¡¯t struggle so much to match this lesser¡¯s strength. ¡°You are a remnant. A wisp of a dragon clinging to life; and damning the one you care for to oblivion,¡± I hissed, blood leaking through my teeth. I still hadn¡¯t managed to heal my damaged jaw or arms, too preoccupied with this struggle.


    ¡°Then we are the same,¡± Arthur said without care, maneuvering his blade of ice beneath my saber and thrusting toward my heart in a piercing strike.


    I eased off on my telekinetic supports, twisting as I allowed the purple-tinged ice to shear past my chest. I raised a shrouded hand, gently nudging his weapon upward and to the side as I retaliated with a rising swipe.


    The Lance shifted in the air, the purple mass of particles letting him move supernaturally quickly. A coating of ice and earth misted over his hands, the atmosphere suddenly heavier than it had been before as the air pressure increased.


    The path of my saber slowed ever-so-slightly, allowing the Anchor to catch it in his outstretched palm. That gauntlet of ice and earth hissed and popped as it closed around the impossible heat of my weapon.


    And then his blade was arcing down toward my shoulder, a razor-sharp blur of cutting water churning with amethyst light as it sought my skull.


    Seeing no other option, I moved into the attack, letting the axe-like chop of his strike sink deep into the bronze armor on my shoulder. I felt it churning and cutting through, seeking bone.


    Before it could part me in two, however, my fist¨Cshrouded in plasma and awash with a telekinetic buildup¨Csurged for Arthur¡¯s sternum. Blood spurted from my clavicle as his attack dug deeper, ruining the pristine and beautiful armor made for my bond.


    But the impact of my knuckles on the boy¡¯s already damaged chest echoed throughout the room like a thunderclap. I could feel my sound spell traveling through his body, causing more internal injuries.


    Arthur shot upward in the air, the icy blade ripped from my shoulder. I grunted in pain, my meager heartfire working to heal over the injury.


    Yet still, even as he shot upward, I could tell the reincarnated soul was not yet done. Without another thought, I knew the aether was warping; bending to the demands of this foreign king. Icicles formed around me like a winter storm, before currents of wind sent them scything inward like knives.


    Blood streamed down my shoulder, the wound not yet healed. I gathered my mana inward, building up fire and force in a concentrated burst as those winter-sharp points surged toward me. White flames and flashes of force sputtered around my breaking body, the light reflecting off the glinting daggers.


    Then I let it erupt like a supernova, the pushback crumpling my telekinetic shroud. My blood sprayed and my bones creaked.


    The mindfire explosion obliterated the shards of ice, leaving naught but steam and glimmering snowflakes as I fell back toward the ground, exhaustion threading through my mind as my core heaved.


    But those glimmering purple eyes, high above¡­ They demanded an end to this.


    I swung my bloodied hands as I fell down, conjuring claws of white mindfire that tried to grasp the Lance in their grip. The Anchor retaliated with a flurry of frost that traveled over my attack like winter itself, freezing my mana as it traced back to me. Wind mana carried the icy wave onward even further, creating a storm easily the size of a building.


    And I noticed as a single, red tear traced its way down Arthur¡¯s cheek.


    Mana reserves easily less than fifteen percent, I noted, my adrenaline driving me onward as I called on my telekinetic emblem. All around, chunks of rubble and bits of decimated vines rose into the air, before surging toward me. At my command, they began to twist and churn, a vortex of force and power creating a tornado with me at the center easily twenty feet wide.


    I ground my teeth, feeling sweat bead on my temple as I focused, revving the churning mass faster and faster. My mana veins ached as I heaved for breath, hoping against hope that this whirlwind would be enough. Through it all, my heartfire worked feverishly to heal over the damage I¡¯d experienced earlier, my heart pounding and aching.


    Through the hurricane I¡¯d created, I thought I caught a glimpse of Arthur¡¯s eyes. Those two pits of violet seared into my own.


    And then the wave of frost struck my makeshift barrier. The swirl of rock and force carried the storm in its wake, the stones within freezing and cracking as the temperature around me dropped significantly. My breath misted as my swirl of telekinesis captured the storm in its confines.


    Have at you, Anchor, I thought headily, before clapping my hands together. You may be Indrath, but I am Asclepius. Know that I will not bow before you so simply.


    My telekinetic tornado exploded outward, tons upon tons of frozen stone rocketing in every direction like shrapnel. Shards thunked into the ground like a Gatling gun, and every wall within a hundred-foot radius of me was peppered with holes as the air flashed.


    I stumbled as my mana veins churned and ached, my core nearly empty. I snarled, staring upward as I sensed my foe.


    Arthur fell toward me from above, a construct of electrified water churning in his grip. He hurled it down at me from on high like a deity¡¯s spear, the air screaming as wind resistance was denied by his magic. As it surged toward me like a missile, the spear split a dozen times, becoming a writhing mass of purple-tinged tentacles. Each bore points as sharp as my talons and sparkled with black lightning as they surged toward me.


    I weakly thrust my hands upward, narrowing my eyes as I called on my magic. My core protested¨Cmy mind screamed¨Cand a flurry of solid plasma feathers appeared around me. My body trembled as I grasped each feather with telekinesis, then sent them toward the heavens like little hummingbirds.


    Of their own accord, my attacks sought tendrils of water, diving within and detonating. The resounding boom of each attack exploding rippled through me, the hammer of my heart heard above all of it. Remnant particles of water carried electricity as they splattered against me, making my body twitch and spasm as the foreign aether within invaded my system.


    And I felt something dig painfully into my chest. My mana winked out as something invaded my heart, a foreign force exerting itself.


    I lethargically looked down, my vision¨Cwhich seemed to be overlaid in red¨Cstruggling to register what I was seeing. Fingers covered entirely in golden runes thrust into my chest, their aether-laden tips no doubt brushing against my heart.


    My heartbeat nearly stopped as I felt a surge of terror course through my system. Arthur¡¯s purple eyes were cold as he stared into mine, his fingers clenching around the core of my soul.


    ¡°Yours were never the true wielders of aether, Lady Dawn,¡± Arthur said, blood dribbling from his eyes and nose. Somewhere in the distance, a dragon cried in grief. ¡°Your aether arts forgo the world for the petty, inconsequential self, while ours¡­¡± His hands pressed a mote of aether into the nexus of my power. ¡°They command the world itself to our heel.¡±


    My world exploded into pain, my heartbeat disrupted. I collapsed to my knees, screaming in agony as foreign aether tried to subsume my lifeforce. My vision blackened at the edges as I clawed at my chest.


    I felt it: that all-consuming domination as it slowly began to work its way through my veins. It usurped my own life, a strange parody of my own aetheric draining technique. But no, this¡­ this was the world reclaiming what belonged to it.


    The world outside fell away as I was left alone, my aether abandoning me. And as my consciousness slowly slipped toward oblivion I¡¯d never wake from, I found myself almost¡­ amused.


    The Anchor was right, I thought, my mind running like tar as my senses receded. Is it not presumptuous of me to try and fight against the world? What is one man¨Cone asura¨Cto the vastness of it all?


    My heartfire sputtered weakly, an encroaching tide of purple chipping away at it in a slow, methodic draw. The control of the dragon tore away that of the phoenix, leaving a withered husk.


    ¡°No,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice said, suddenly so very clear and concise despite my Second Phase¡¯s grip on my body and mind. ¡°No, you¡¯ve already proved that the world can change!¡± she said, her tone rife with mutual pain. ¡°You chose to make things better! Chose to pursue a grander future!¡±


    I blinked my eyes, visions of a mirror lake and endless expanse beneath a smiling sun flashing in and out of my perception. I vaguely recognized it: the Sea of the Soul, where I¡¯d met Norgan one last time during my Sculpting. Where my mind had been remade nearly a year ago as I and Toren became one.


    And atop that expansive lake, Aurora¡¯s shade stared at me with resolution. Her chest was bleeding anew, the hole over her heart weeping red. There was a new wound on her body, one I didn¡¯t recognize. A small cut beneath her eye made it appear as if the beautiful woman was crying blood. Her eyes didn¡¯t burn.


    ¡°You will not let it end here,¡± my bond said with iron. ¡°You will see your choices through. You believe you have sinned in killing innocents? You believe your actions worthy of retribution?¡±


    I coughed, my vision of the Sea of the Soul sputtering out as I was greeted with the frozen ground beneath me. ¡°Live to see the consequences, my son,¡± Aurora said across my mind.


    My fists clenched around the dirt at my feet. My heartfire was almost gone now, subsumed by the washing force of Arthur¡¯s power. Soon there would be nothing left. Nothing to keep my soul sustained and anchored to my vessel.


    My heart throbbed, a sputtering speck of orange-purple fire left within. I clenched my teeth, Aurora¡¯s words rumbling through me.


    Live to see the consequences, I thought. Live to see the results of your actions. Don¡¯t run now.


    I forced my heart to beat¨Cone, thunderous echo. It resounded out into the cavern like the crash of a war drum, the organ within clenching painfully. But as I enforced myself, the aether trying to dominate my body halted, uncertain as my will resurged.


    ¡°No,¡± I said from the ground. ¡°No, you¡¯re wrong.¡±


    My heart beat faster. Harder. Arthur¡¯s aether was pushed back, his pure violet banished by streams of dawnlight. Strength returned to my exhausted limbs as my lifeforce returned, flowing along not just my arteries, but my mana channels and veins as well.


    I sensed Arthur above me as he raised his hand, trying to finish me off before I could complete my goal. But an unfocused wave of telekinetic force¨Cfar, far stronger than it usually was¨Csent him flying backward like a purple comet.


    I woozily pulled myself to my feet, barely skirting around backlash. I clasped my chest as the final embers of the Lance¡¯s aetheric influence were banished from my body. I groaned in pain as my heart squeezed, the effect of this technique nearly too much for me to handle.


    Light the color of a waxing dawn streamed from the scars on my hands where I held them over my heart, meshing with the glow of the feathered runes along my arms. My entire body burned as my heartfire traced along my mana veins and channels, following the echo of my heartbeat.


    I coughed a mouthful of blood onto my ruined armor, staring at Arthur as he rose to his feet on limp arms. I blinked, forcing my vision to focus as I had to merge the many split images of the Lance that clouded my sight.


    He didn¡¯t look much better than me¨Cblood streamed from every orifice he had, coating his body crimson as the runes along his body flared weakly. His heartfire told me the state of his body¨Cit was breaking down, of course. Just as I couldn¡¯t maintain this new technique, neither could he keep himself from destruction.


    But I wasn¡¯t looking at Arthur. No, I was looking at the remnant of Sylvia¡¯s Dragon Will pulling him on like a puppet. His eyes narrowed as he observed my broken state, that apathetic mask cracking in surprise.


    My mastery of this technique was clunky, unpracticed, and extremely dangerous. Every pulse of my heart risked permanent damage to my body. But through the accumulated insight of practicing with Circe Milview¡¯s blood array, learning more from Lance Olfred¡¯s widened mana channels, and my control of lifeforce, I¡¯d arrived at this power.


    My body was my own. I was the master of my own self, and through my control of lifeforce, anything was possible. Under the effects of Resonant Flow¨Cthe name I had given this technique¨CI simultaneously widened my mana veins and channels with heartfire, allowing a greater flow of mana, while also squeezing them to concentrate everything that flowed through. Like a man pinching the end of a garden hose to make the pressure going through increase, I took control of the conduits that carried strengthening energy.


    ¡°You are¡­ different,¡± Sylvia¡¯s Will said, rising into the air on eddies of aether. ¡°Your control of aether¡­ It cannot be allowed. Not for the necessity of the Indraths and the safety of this world.¡±


    I struggled to keep my eyes open as my Vessel burned. I felt as if every channel in my body was on fire as my mana began to run dry, rippling pockets of agony spiking with every beat of my heart. Purple-orange light glowed from every one of my scars, the power trying to break its way through.


    Arthur held both of his hands to the side, then clenched them shut. Space visibly warped as he began to heave on the aether around him, pulling it into a central sphere as he glared at me through bloody eyes. I didn¡¯t understand how he could still move.


    I weakly began to call on what measly reserves of mana I had left, holding my hands in front of me. Plasma slowly coalesced as I did the mental equivalent of squeezing the last bit of liquid from a waterskin, preparing for this final confrontation.


    Aurora, I thought, my mind strangely lucid despite the pinpricks of agony subsuming everything, have you ever fought a dragon?


    She didn¡¯t respond, all her focus intent on guiding my spell along. Arthur¡¯s strange aether art of compressed and twisted space bent the light above us in a blatant disregard for physics, the haze around us from a dozen still-burning multicolored fires twisting and scattering the light into all their composite wavelengths. His blood streamed to the ground beneath him as he ignored his failing body.


    It was beautiful to watch in a strange, deadly way. Like the detonation of a supernova or the accretion disk of a black hole, there was a surreal wonder in watching Arthur bend the world against its natural confines. To watch a single man mold space itself like putty. All four elements lingered in the air around us. Snow fell around with little electric currents, and remnant firestorms pushed those about, too. And all that was drawn inward by the Lance.


    If this is the end, I thought headily, feeling a strange dissociation as I prepared one final gambit to keep myself alive, then it¡¯ll be a beautiful way to die.


    And then Arthur¡¯s spell shuddered, popping as it winked out. The dizzying array of light that streamed throughout the cavern twisted and snapped, imploding on itself as the aether returned to its normal state. I blinked, looking up at the Lance from below. I watched as his purple eyes clouded over, and then his hair shifted back to its normal auburn. The runes adorning his body evaporated into yellow motes as they whisked away, abandoning their owner.


    And then he fell, his broken heartfire snuffing out as his body finally gave in.

 Chapter 207: Threading Hearts

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Arthur plummeted from the sky like a fallen angel, an almost perfect picture of the Dragon from Revelation streaking toward the underworld as they were cast from heaven. As the Lance dared to bend the world to his whims, he was rejected for trying to usurp the true order of the cosmos.


    My power retreated as I watched the graceless fall. Resonant Flow slowed as my heart squeezed painfully, the light streaming from my chest simmering away. My hair shifted back to its normal colors as the Unseen World vanished from my view, Soulplume retreating into my core.


    I stumbled, almost falling immediately as backlash began to assault my body. Yet familiar hands wrapped under my arms, supporting me and refusing to let me collapse here. Aurora¡¯s steady limbs kept me aloft even as my vision doubled and tripled, red tinting everything within my sight. I felt as if my brain had been removed from my skull, stuffed into a blender and mixed with fire, then meticulously poured back into my head.


    Arthur¡¯s body hit the ground. There was no grand crash; no resonant boom of impact. Just a dull thump as the earth welcomed him into its heartless embrace.


    Sylvie¡¯s mournful bellow resonated through the cavern as she pulled herself on weak limbs toward her bond¡¯s dying form. I felt a strange sense of detachment as my own bond supported me, my fingers twitching limply in an attempt to form a fist.


    ¡°Art!¡± another voice cried out desperately, just as filled with pain. With how weak I currently was, I couldn¡¯t dissect intent in the ambient mana. But from the wrenching grief laden in that tone, I was suddenly grateful I couldn¡¯t. ¡°Art, no! Please!¡±


    It took my mind a minute to register what it was seeing. Tessia Eralith¨Cher face streaked with tears and horror¨Cwas running toward Arthur¡¯s body, throwing herself at his bleeding form.


    How¡­ How did I miss her? I thought headily, wavering on my feet. Each second seemed to stretch like tar, the pain coursing through my body taking my perception of time and beating it over the head. Whenever I let myself waver, double and triple images of the world overlapped my sight. How is she here? She should¡¯ve left by now!


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora said sadly, ¡°we should leave while we can.¡±


    My eyes stayed locked on Sylvie as she desperately breathed aether over Arthur¡¯s body, attempting to heal him with her dragon¡¯s arts. Nothing happened. His dwindling heartfire didn¡¯t even react as her energy spread across his body.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora implored again, her tone softer. ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, my lungs feeling like they would collapse inward from simply uttering the word. ¡°No. I¡¯m going to see my consequences through to the end.¡±


    I took a shaky step forward. The phoenix shade reluctantly complied as she helped me walk on trembling limbs toward the trio. Sylvie no doubt knew I was approaching, but she didn¡¯t turn away from her fruitless task, her tear-laden yellow eyes entirely focused on the body of her bond.


    Tessia Eralith, however, turned eyes filled with rage and grief my way as she cradled her limp childhood friend¡¯s body in her arms. Yet when she opened her mouth to speak¨Cto berate me, or hurl accusations, or demand I fall on my sword¨Conly a ragged sob tore its way from her throat.


    I stared down at Arthur¡¯s body, and I knew somehow. Knew it instinctively.


    In that otherworld novel, Arthur entered the Third Phase of Sylvia¡¯s Will far later in time¨Cand it had nearly killed him, tearing his body apart from the inside. In a bid to save her bond, Sylvie had sacrificed her own body¨Cher physical form¨Cto remake Arthur anew, allowing him to survive.


    But that wouldn¡¯t happen now, I knew. Whether that be because Sylvie hadn¡¯t yet broken her seal, or something I¡¯d fucked up in Fate, Sylvie would not be able to sacrifice herself now.


    Arthur was going to die.


    My hands clenched slowly as I came to a decision within the depths of my very soul.


    ¡°What are you willing to sacrifice?¡± I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Sylvie¡¯s desperate eyes turned to me, and Tessia¡¯s turquoise pupils seemed to shatter into a million shards of green glass. ¡°For him to survive?¡±


    There was power in sacrifice. Raw, pure power that couldn¡¯t be obtained anywhere else.


    ¡°How dare you,¡± Tessia hissed, pure venom flashing through her. ¡°After what you¡¯ve done¨C¡±


    ¡°Anything,¡± Sylvie replied in a low, low grumble, cutting the elven princess off. ¡°I¡¯ll give anything.¡±


    And I knew she was telling the truth. I strode forward, kneeling in front of Arthur¡¯s dying body. I raised a shaky hand toward his sternum, my heartfire flickering weakly and painfully as I called on it. Without realizing it, I¡¯d already touched a bit of my lifespan in desperation. I¡¯d probably shaved a decade off the top at least.


    Tessia tensed protectively around her childhood friend, looking ready to lash out like a cat as my hand neared. But then she looked at Sylvie¡¯s weakly imploring gaze, and fell into quiet despair.


    I pressed my hand over Arthur¡¯s sternum, feeling the absolute hurricane that raged within each of his cells. My eyes widened at the information I received¨Csomething within was fighting against the breakdown of his physique. Spreading energy latched to each and every cell, reinforcing them and fighting back against the inevitable degradation.


    But as my heartfire flowed along the man¡¯s veins in a soothing pulse, I felt even more surprised as that¡­ substance drank up the sparse tongues of aether I¡¯d imbued like a parched man in a desert. With how weak I was, I couldn¡¯t resist the pull, the little bits of lifeforce I¡¯d funneled along Arthur¡¯s body taken without a struggle.


    But as they were absorbed, that substance surged, fighting back against the tide.


    It¡¯s the acclorite, I realized, snapping a glance at Arthur¡¯s palm. The place where Wren had implanted the seed of a weapon¨Cone meant to grow and change, before finally manifesting into something worthy of an asura¨Cwas empty. The little black stone had seeped across his body instead.


    My mind flashed back to how Dawn¡¯s Ballad had been absorbed into the little stone as Arthur fell into his Third Phase. It hurt to think, but the sword¡¯s strange coloring¨Cdifferent from the teal described in the novel¨Cand the way it drank my blood and cut Aurora¡¯s soul told me there was more to its makeup than I¡¯d originally assumed.


    Another divergence,


    I thought. Will Regis still come to be as this weapon manifests? What was Dawn¡¯s Ballad, really?


    But those questions simmered away as I pulled my hand back, a plan of action cementing itself within my mind. I could do this¨CI could heal Arthur, I was sure. But not with the reserves I currently had.


    ¡°Tessia,¡± I croaked out. ¡°I need¡­ need the horn,¡± I said weakly, fighting to remain fully conscious. ¡°The white horn. If I want to save him.¡±


    The elven princess¡¯ eyes shimmered with distrust and suspicion, but at a mournful glance shared with Sylvie, she pulled herself out from under Arthur¡¯s body, her arms shaking as she strode over toward where I¡¯d dropped Inversion during the final bits of my fight.


    She knelt, picking it up. The touch didn¡¯t burn her skin like it did for Vritra-blooded humans, but she seemed surprised by the warmth I knew was constantly thrumming along its length. She returned quickly, but hesitated as I numbly held out my hand.


    ¡°Why,¡± she demanded, staring at me with eyes as hard as emeralds, ¡°do you need this? What purpose?¡±


    So many questions, I thought with irritation, noting as Arthur slipped further and further. He coughed weakly, blood streaming from his mouth. We don¡¯t have time for this!


    ¡°Because I don¡¯t have the energy needed,¡± I hissed angrily, pointing at my chest. ¡°But she does!¡± I snapped at the reluctant princess, a trembling hand pointed directly at Sylvie¡¯s chest.


    Tessia blinked in confusion, but thankfully, Sylvie seemed to understand. ¡°Give him the horn, mama,¡± she said quietly. Arthur¡¯s heartfire dipped lower. ¡°Do it.¡±


    I held an impatient hand out to the princess. I didn¡¯t miss the flash of anger she showed when she finally settled it into my palm. We both knew she could kill me if she wanted to. I was too weak to resist.


    But in the end, the elven princess¡¯ care for her childhood friend triumphed over her hatred of me. I laid my right hand over Arthur¡¯s chest, then clenched Inversion in my left. I stared up into Sylvie¡¯s draconic eyes, sensing her understanding.


    She could feel what was happening to Arthur over her bond, no doubt. She knew what was encroaching on his soul; how dire it was. And in turn, she knew that nothing short of sacrifice would leave him whole once more.


    Ruination painted Sylvie¡¯s once-obsidian scales a deep crimson. Blood streamed from innumerable cuts and gashes along her body, the damage Aurora had done in her Vessel Form extensive and hellish. Yet despite her current weakness, Sylvie still bore energy that could be used. That could be harnessed.


    If only it was sacrificed. I heard her stable, resonant heartbeat in the depths of my mind. The aether that coursed through her lifespan, expansive as the Southern Sea.


    Tessia¡¯s eyes widened as I lined the point of the dagger-like horn over top of the massive, black dragon¡¯s chest. The world seemed to pause for a moment as I locked eyes with the scion of the Indrath Clan, her resolve and surety bleeding into the ambient mana. Before the elven princess could cry out in alarm, I slammed my fist into the base of Inversion, driving it forward through the asura¡¯s flesh and sinking deep, deep into her body.


    Sylvie snarled in pain, but the only move she made was to block Tessia¡¯s panicked advance with a wing. ¡°No, Tessia,¡± she said with pained resolve. ¡°This is necessary. I know what I¡¯m doing!¡±


    Their words fell away as the dragon¡¯s blood streamed over my hands. The wound I¡¯d created wasn¡¯t fatal, far from it¨Cbut it was large, and it opened directly over her heart. With barely an ounce of consciousness remaining, I called on what slivers of hearfire I could spare, shaving another decade off my lifespan as I crafted chains of aether to surround Sylvie¡¯s pulsing nexus of blood.


    She could¡¯ve resisted; I was certain. With her power over aether and her inborn strength, it would¡¯ve normally been impossible to cinch these wrappings shut around her heart. But she allowed it to happen, because we both knew it was the only way.


    I began to draw her heartfire from her chest. The tip of Inversion had just barely grazed the recesses of her heart, allowing me a conduit to funnel the aether of her lifespan into my body.


    I inhaled sharply, my eyes blowing wide as the dragon¡¯s lifeforce streamed across my veins. It was rich and pure, condensed and alive in a way I¡¯d rarely ever experienced. Just the sensation of it coursing along my veins soothed my agonies, giving me a slight bit of needed reprieve as I concentrated on my craft. Within each mote, there were dozens¨Cmaybe hundreds¨Cof years worth of life.


    I felt almost intoxicated by the power as it overwhelmed my senses for a moment, the little eddies of purple changing to the color of dawnlight as they shifted through Inversion. My perception rose to absurd heights as my senses were overloaded from the sheer quantity of energy coursing across my body. Little tongues of dawnlight sparked and flared around my body as I struggled to keep it all contained.


    I felt I might burst from the swell of energy that coursed along my veins, the nectar of aether so dreadfully condensed that I found it hard to even breathe. Hard to think. My heart clenched painfully, nearly overwhelmed by the stream of power that entered it. It felt like a balloon close to popping from the influx of air. It couldn¡¯t beat fast enough; couldn¡¯t beat hard enough to contain it all.


    But I couldn¡¯t allow myself to falter here; to lose focus of why I was doing this. And my goal wasn¡¯t to keep this energy. After all, it wasn¡¯t for me.


    My hand clenched around Arthur¡¯s chest, feeling his agonies. His slow death. And I began to funnel this new aether into his body, feeding the acclorite as it resisted his destruction. And slowly, slowly, the process began to grind to a halt as the acclorite spread even further in defiance of the laws of mass and energy. After all, it was within heartfire¡¯s fundamental nature to flow. To travel from one point to another. I just needed to be that vein; that conduit.


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    I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind aching from trying to do so many things at once. My limbs felt distant and not my own as they swelled from trying to cycle all this heartfire. Above me, Sylvie crooned in pain¨Cbut Arthur¡¯s state visibly improved. His sickly skin lightened slightly as a bit of color returned to his cheeks. His breathing became a bit more even, but¡­


    But it wasn¡¯t enough. I wasn¡¯t healing him, only keeping the rampaging force in check. Furthermore, I could sense as his core began to degrade, Sylvia¡¯s Will having escaped into the wild expanse beyond us as it broke down.


    I looked up, noting Sylvie¡¯s pained expression. Tessia¡¯s mixture of horror and hope as she saw her childhood friend at least appear to edge closer to health. And I knew what needed to be done.


    I pulled Inversion free of Sylvie¡¯s chest, the action far easier as my aches and pains had diminished significantly from the torrent of soothing soultether. Sylvie¡¯s wound bled significantly, but I could heal that later.


    I shoved Inversion into my belt, then raised bloodied fingers and grasped Tessia¡¯s hand. She startled as I held them firmly, seeming to want to pull away in fear. But then I pressed them into Arthur¡¯s limp grasp.


    I looked up at Sylvie, my eyes drooping from exhaustion as I cycled the lifespan I¡¯d taken from her through Arthur¡¯s form in a steadying rhythm.


    The dragon, ever the empath, seemed to understand once more. She raised a gigantic claw, settling it over Arthur¡¯s other arm.


    Good, I thought, before closing my eyes. Now, it¡¯s time to speak to your soul.


    My healing, fundamentally, relied on my ability to sympathize with my targets. Only if I understood them could I make a beckoning call to their heartfire; a lifeline for their soul to latch onto. But in turn, their soul needed to be willing to be healed.


    And I knew Arthur Leywin. The King, the General, the Lance. The man who feared becoming what he once was¨Can apathetic tyrant without any to call his loved ones. That was why he fought so hard for them¨Cbled so much for them. Because they were what proved, in some minute way, that he wasn¡¯t a monster. Because they gave this new life purpose.


    I took a deep, surreal breath. I felt somehow lighter than a cloud, yet also burdened by the heaviest of weights as words pulled themselves from my throat. ¡°Arthur Leywin,¡± I said aloud, my hand over his heart, my heartfire caressing his degrading core. ¡°I know you. Perhaps you might not believe me. But I know you better than nearly any other. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your¡­ Your fears.¡±


    I swallowed heavily, feeling tears blur the edges of my vision as I slammed my eyes shut. ¡°I¡¯ve watched your story play out for years. I sympathized with your struggles. I stood on the edge of my seat as you failed, then cheered as you rose again. Every step of the way, I have watched and cared for your journey; for your story. I can say so, so much,¡± I said breathily.


    ¡°But for all I know you, former king of Etharia,¡± I said with a shudder that seemed to reverberate through my very soul, ¡°You don¡¯t know me. To your grand story, I¡¯m a footnote. An observer with nothing to add; nothing to give. My words mean nothing to you.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth as a tear escaped my eye, streaming treacherously down my blood-stained face. The ruined mask over my face did a poor job of hiding it. ¡°But they don¡¯t need to. I just need to be the bridge for the words of those who can. Because your anchors are here, Arthur.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s hand clenched uncertainly around Arthur¡¯s as my words registered with her, fear, confusion, and hope tracing their lines across her face. At that moment, I thought I understood why Arthur loved her so deeply in his heart. One who could display such pure, pure emotion needed to be cherished. Held close to the soul so that way they¡¯d never forget how to feel.


    Sylvie lowered her nose to Arthur¡¯s mop of auburn brown hair as my words echoed out, nuzzling his scalp weakly. I¡¯d siphoned nearly half her nigh endless expanse of years into my body, then continuously funneled it back into the quadra-elemental mage in Tessia¡¯s arms. Yet even as she struggled not to collapse, Sylvie stood stalwart for her papa, unwavering in her dedication and care.


    You have all you need, Arthur Leywin, I thought headily. Don¡¯t ever let them go. Don¡¯t ever let yourself go.


    ¡°You promised to live a full, wonderful life,¡± I said to the once-monarch beneath me, beckoning back to his promise to Sylvia. ¡°You made an Oath in this second life of yours, King Grey. And here they are. The ones you fight for. The ones you live for.¡±


    The flow of aether across Arthur¡¯s body began to slow as the work was done, his heartfire beginning to pulse at a normal resonance once more. I exhaled as his core¨Cwhich was once so close to degradation¨Cmended itself over under my call.


    Tessia wept openly as she pressed her forehead to Arthur¡¯s, relief and joy threading through her intent as he was returned to health once more. Sylvie crooned softly, nuzzling Arthur¡¯s head.


    ¡°Amazing,¡± Aurora breathed, her words running through my entire system as her shock and genuine awe simmered like steam off boiling water. ¡°To heal a mana core¨Cit should be impossible. It defies nature itself, Toren.¡±


    The core is part of the Vessel, I thought as I stared down at Arthur¡¯s body, And the Vessel is ours to command, Aurora. Mana cores are no exception, I added a little smugly. One just needs¡­ perspective.


    I¡¯d been able to sense the changes within Arthur¡¯s physique as the acclorite manifested in real-time, the strange collage of flesh and metal becoming truly one beneath my watchful eye.I didn¡¯t know what changes this would bring to his future, but¡­


    I¡¯ll see the consequences of my actions through, I thought, shakily pulling myself to my feet. I felt stretched, like taffy that had been pulled too far.


    Or butter that¡¯s been scraped over too much bread, I thought a bit giddily, a line from one of my favorite stories popping into the forefront of my mind. I stumbled backward as I began to walk away, leaving them behind. I¡­ I needed to find a way out of this djinn sanctuary. Dicathian reinforcements would no doubt be here soon, and I had to get back to where I was safe.


    I felt a lance of guilt stab through me as my mind drifted back to Burim. I¡¯d been¡­ forceful with Albold. And in return for bullying the poor elf into giving me the information I¡¯d required, I¡¯d dropped him rather unceremoniously around the outskirts of the Beast Glades.


    And before I¡¯d departed, I¡¯d left the completed dwarven puzzle on Seris¡¯ desk. I was doing something directly against orders, and if anything happened, I¡¯d wanted her to have it. To know that I¡¯d completed the task she¡¯d given me. That she hadn¡¯t managed to stump my mind.


    ¡°Toren Daen!¡± Sylvie called after me as I limped away.


    I turned lethargically, looking back toward the towering dragon. She¡¯d used a light application of aether to seal over her wound, staunching the flow of blood. And the questions¨Call the questions in her eyes that demanded answers. She hesitated, before her large jaw opened.


    ¡°Why was Arthur brought to this world?¡± she finally asked. I saw her burning curiosity and disbelief in the wake of the words I¡¯d said as I healed Arthur. I suspected she could tell I was being truthful, too. But she¡¯d decided to ask the most important question.


    My mouth suddenly felt very, very dry. I worked my jaw as Tessia raised her chin to look at me, her wide eyes darting between me and the dragon.


    ¡°He has a right to know,¡± Aurora said solemnly, her hand settling on my shoulder. ¡°The same way you had a right to know in the wake of your own reincarnation.¡±


    I know, I acknowledged somberly. I know.


    But I¡¯d been vague so far. I¡¯d hoarded my knowledge like a jealous dragon around its hoard of gold, clinging to what might be the future for some vague sense of assurance. If I told anyone why I was here, what were the chances of that knowledge making its way back to Agrona? What were the chances that things became worse than they already were?


    The truth was, I didn¡¯t want to speak to these people. Part of me never wanted to see them face to face. I didn¡¯t want to look at the possibility that I might be damning their happiness to oblivion through my actions. Sylvie¡¯s question rang clear in the depths of my soul. Tessia¡¯s confusion and desire were like a hurricane tearing apart her intent as she was left stranded in the wake of all this knowledge.


    But Aurora was correct. For all that the future had in store, Tessia and Sylvie and Arthur had a right to defy their Fates.


    Silence reigned in the djinni sanctuary, the multicolored fires that flickered and lingered all about finally beginning to die away. Blue-white frostfire kissed white flames, killing each other softly. The popping of those fires sounded somewhat like cracking wood and shattering ice as the destruction cannibalized itself.


    I rolled my shoulders, feeling the weight of Sylvie¡¯s stare. I made up my mind.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to swear an Oath,¡± I hissed through clenched teeth, ¡°That none of what I am about to say will leave your lips, except to Arthur himself.¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s eyes darkened to a deep, deep amber, but Tessia¡¯s emotions finally snapped. ¡°What is going on?¡± she begged, her tears drying up as my words reasserted themselves. ¡°What¡­ why?¡±


    I belatedly realized that Tessia didn¡¯t know that Arthur was reincarnated. Arthur had kept that knowledge from her¨Ckept it out of fear. He lied to himself, saying that it was fear that she¡¯d think him a monster. But deep down, he feared what he would do if she accepted him far, far more.


    But she already heard what I said over his body, I thought with gritted teeth. If she hasn¡¯t put it together by now, she will when the shock leaves her system.


    ¡°Just swear,¡± I said back, ignoring Tessia¡¯s question. I didn¡¯t have much time. ¡°Swear on your mother,¡± I said, pointing at Sylvie, then shifted my attention to Tessia Eralith, ¡°and swear on your grandfather.¡±


    ¡°W-What?¡± Tessia said weakly, clutching Arthur¡¯s unconscious body to her chest as if it were a single piece of wood amidst a raging storm at sea. ¡°What is¨C¡±


    Sylvie only hesitated for a moment. ¡°I swear on the name of Sylvia Indrath,¡± she said, ¡°daughter of Kezess Indrath, and heir to the crown of Epheotus that I will not utter a word of what you tell me to any other than Arthur.¡±


    I turned hard eyes toward the elven princess next. She swallowed, the yawning pits of my pupils seeming to overwhelm her. I was sure she sensed the gravity of what I planned to say. How it might shatter her world. Her confusion was shoved back into a tiny recess of her mind as the weight of what I needed to say overrode it.


    ¡°I swear, ¡± she said weakly, lowering her gaze as she failed to match the intensity of mine, ¡°on Virion Eralith¡¯s name.¡±


    I let out a breath. Took another. Then let it out again, my adrenaline flowing once more as the two looked at me with raptured expressions of hope and uncertainty.


    ¡°Your father called him here,¡± I said to Sylvie, pushing the secret from the depths of my soul. I said the words as they came to me, each escaping like a bird flying from a cage. Aurora¡¯s hand on my shoulder helped steady me, giving me direction as I continued. ¡°He called his soul to understand the depths of reincarnation.¡±


    The decimated cavern was silent as a grave. In that otherworld novel, it hadn¡¯t been made explicitly clear if Sylvie knew she was Agrona¡¯s daughter until her return. But the utter terror that washed through her told me all I needed to know.


    Sylvie recoiled visibly, her long head pulling back in rejection as her wings flared. Her teeth pulled up into a snarl as she stared at me, disbelief thrumming through her veins.


    I met the dragon¡¯s eyes. Even weak and defeated, Sylvie towered over me like a black shadow that inverted the light. Yet as a silent tension built between us, I waited. I waited for her to ask the final question. The one we both knew she needed to ask.


    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, barely a whisper. ¡°Why¡­ Why is he trying to learn about reincarnation?¡±


    I pointed a long, blood-stained arm at Tessia. My finger extended, and for a moment I thought it might appear as if I were the reaper coming to claim her soul. My shadow stretched long and dark as the fires finally abandoned us all. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°In the end, he needs her,¡± I said. ¡°So he can bring another from the Beyond. One Grey knew, long ago, before he ended her life. He wishes to bring the one who commands the world itself as she pleases. And I will never allow it, as long as my heart beats in my chest.¡±


    I let my arm fall, and then I turned around. Sylvie¡¯s intent thundered with terror, her heartbeat slamming like a gong against my ears.


    ¡ª


    I stumbled to my knees as I fell into the tall grass, my limbs aching from overuse. I struggled to keep my vision focused as exhaustion clawed at my mind. I need¡­ need to move further away.


    I didn¡¯t know if what I¡¯d said was right. If I hadn¡¯t further jeopardized the future with my words. By revealing Agrona¡¯s plans to another, I worried¨Con a deep, terrified level¨Cthat it could be traced back to me, and back to all I cared for.


    I had managed to stumble through a passageway at the edge of the djinni sanctuary. For the past couple of hours, I¡¯d been barely holding on as I pulled myself through the dungeon and then out onto the surface. Part of me worried that some random mana beast might spot me and gut me in my weakened state, but I was too tired to even be fully aware of that.


    Aurora¡¯s arms under mine helped me get back to my feet for the hundredth time. By whatever gods exist, I thought hazily, I need¡­ need to sleep.


    I wasn¡¯t far outside the realm of backlash, and though the meager bits of heartfire I¡¯d managed to retain from Sylvie had managed to heal over most of the damage I¡¯d received, I still was far from my best.


    I took another step, but tripped on a root before I could fully set my foot down. I faceplanted painfully, what was left of my mask wrenched off my face as I cracked my head against a rock. The armor Sevren had made for me wasn¡¯t regenerating. Something about Arthur¡¯s aether arts had destroyed it utterly.


    Fuck, I thought groggily, my limbs refusing to respond. I blinked, and suddenly I was rolled over.


    Did I do that? I wondered headily, staring up through the branches of the towering tree above me. I didn¡¯t remember moving.


    The low light of dusk streamed through the canopy above me. I felt cold, I realized. As weak as I was and without mana to support me, I was left to truly face the chill of winter. The season itself was nearly over, but it still had one last hurrah to give as a middle finger to me in particular.


    I groaned as I curled up into a ball, trying to ward off the cold. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the light was just a little bit lower.


    I was losing consciousness, and fast. I couldn¡¯t afford to... to¨C


    I blinked again, despite Aurora¡¯s protests. And when I stared out once more, night had fallen.


    And there was a figure hovering before me.


    Seris was outlined in little splashes of moonlight that reflected off her silver-kissed hair like radiant dewdrops. She seemed to me like some sort of lunar goddess as she floated before my battered body.


    ¡°Do you have any idea,¡± Seris said, sounding uniquely angry, ¡°what you have done?¡±


    I couldn¡¯t help it. Even as her small lips turned down into a deep, furious scowl and her intent radiated with a swirling mix of anger and fear¨Cfear for me¨CI couldn¡¯t help but admire her beauty. I felt a smile cross my face as I stared headily up at her, drinking in her perfect form as a drowning man does water.


    ¡°I¡¯ve made a change,¡± I said at last, my voice slurred from exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯ve changed the course of this war. I spat in his face. Denied him. He doesn¡¯t¡­ Doesn¡¯t get to win.¡±


    And then the darkness claimed me.

 Chapter 208: Of Lost Souls and Anchor Points

    Thanks to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    Arthur always seemed so far away. From the moment I¡¯d met him, I¡¯d struggled¨Cclawed and scraped and heaved my way forward, just for the chance to stand beside him. Yet for every step forward I took, he leapt five, leaving me behind; never granting me the chance to reach his level. To say that I had made it.


    And as I cradled his body in my arms¨Cbreathing once more, as if blessed by an angel¨Che felt so small. Not the broad, impossibly strong warrior-mage. Not the Lance, the general, or the quadra-elemental. He was so painfully human. Not the larger-than-life shadow he cast.


    He was just¡­ just Art. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his skin as I held on. I was afraid. Afraid to let go. That if I let his body shift, he¡¯d just¡­ vanish. Disappear again, leaving me alone. Leaving me cold.


    I stared mutely at Spellsong¡¯s back as he limped away, the mage appearing as if he was being carried by someone. And beside me, the words he¡¯d uttered¨Cthe strange, nonsensical words¨Chad made Sylvie stumble backward in shock and horror. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°By my grandfather,¡± she cursed. ¡°By all the dragons of the Indrath. Oh, no,¡± she said, curling inward on herself as whatever Spellsong had said rattled her so, so deeply. She sounded scared. I hadn¡¯t even known she could speak until recently, but the tremble in her voice sounded so wrong.


    ¡°What¡­ What was he talking about?¡± I asked, my mouth feeling as stuffed with cotton as I clutched Arthur¡¯s body. He felt so heavy. I was used to him hugging me, holding me in a way that made me feel safe. But his arms were limp. His smile¨Cwhich lit up the world and banished the darkness in my life¨Cwas a simple pinched line.¡°What¡­ reincarnation? Second lives? And who is King Grey?¡±


    It had all happened so fast. I couldn¡¯t even begin to process it all. After my fight with Spellsong, I¡¯d taken Caria, Darvus, and Stannard up one of the many branching pathways that led up toward the surface from the boss room. Captain Drogo had managed to carve away a small hole through the rubble that had blocked their forward path, and I¡¯d given him a hurried report before using a transmission scroll I kept in reserve to send an emergency message to the Council.


    But then I¡¯d felt the explosion of power that seemed to grip the entire dungeon in its icy claws. It had felt like my heart was being seared; that despite my distance, I was standing right next to a star.


    And I¡¯d turned back. Against Drogo¡¯s protests, against all rational thought, I¡¯d surged back toward where Spellsong and Art battled. I didn¡¯t know why: some inborn instinct, part of me knowing that Art needed me. Maybe the foolish, stupid thoughts of a teenage girl. But I couldn¡¯t leave Art down below to face that power without me.


    And when I¡¯d lowered myself down through the expansive hole in the bottom of the decimated boss room and slowed my fall with wind magic, I¡¯d seen Arthur facing off against that Asclepius hybrid. The levels of power being thrown around had sucked the breath from my lungs, robbing me of any sort of sense. I¡¯d felt doubt, then. As both combatants radiated power fit for the asura themselves, I¡¯d recognized what I was. A foolish, foolish girl trying to make herself seem more important. Bigger; stronger, worthy.


    But what was I except a speck compared to such power? How could I ever hope to catch up to Arthur, to stand by his side, when this was the extent of his strength?


    And then Arthur had fallen, and every self-deprecating thought in my mind had washed away. I knew it from looking at him, from pulling him to my chest. He was dying, and¡­ and nothing Sylvie or I could do had helped. Those brilliant cerulean eyes of his would go dull and lifeless, like all the soldiers I¡¯d failed to protect.


    But then Spellsong had stepped forward, asking what we were willing to sacrifice.


    ¡°Sylvie,¡± I said again, if just to hear something. To push away the encroaching silence that held us all like a vise. ¡°Sylvie, I¡­ I don¡¯t understand,¡± I begged, feeling heady. Lost, like I was a kid again and stranded in the midst of Elshire so far from home. ¡°What is going on? What does all of this mean? With Arthur and¡­ him having some sort of other life?¡±


    The massive black dragon only turned to look at me, her topaz eyes carrying a deep, endless abyss within them. She didn¡¯t speak, only continued to stare at me with that sad, solemn expression.


    And as I focused on those eyes, it all started to align. My thoughts had been like grains of sand swirled through a glass of water, each flitting speck unable to be captured and maintained by the constant flurry of information and overwhelming events transpiring. But as the silence lingered, each grain began to settle into place along the seabed of my mind. They formed an image that was strangely clear. That made everything fit, and¡­


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said weakly, feeling a shock of cold run through my body. I thought my face must have been as white as bone. ¡°Oh.¡±


    A memory popped into my head of its own accord. I remembered how I¡¯d listened in on Arthur and Grandpa¡¯s conversation in the depths of the castle about Cynthia Goodsky¡¯s death. Grandpa had been against telling me, of course. He wanted to keep the news of my mentor¡¯s death from me. To protect me.


    And Arthur had told me that the reason Virion didn¡¯t tell me¨Cthat he wouldn¡¯t have told me, until whenever he couldn¡¯t hide it¨Cwas because he thought I¡¯d do something stupid. Like a child.


    At that moment, I¡¯d been so furious. Arthur was younger than me, wasn¡¯t he? I¡¯d worked and worked and worked to be seen by those around me as an adult. So that¡­ So that I could stand beside him, and all those around me who constantly sacrificed themselves. So that I wouldn¡¯t just be another damsel to protect.


    ¡°Because you are a child!¡± Arthur¡¯s angry, enraged voice echoed across my mind. I¡¯d rarely ever heard him raise his voice, and the sharpness of it drove a lance of pain through my skull. The recollected words painted my vision in a blur as tears began to gather at the edge of my eyes.


    I stared down at the boy I still clung to as he rested in my lap, feeling my lip tremble. But he wasn¡¯t a boy, was he? He never had been.


    ¡°He wanted to tell you for so, so long,¡± Sylvie said quietly from above me, her voice soft and sad.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t he?¡± I asked, my voice coming out raw as tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn¡¯t know what I felt. Betrayal? Despair? Or anger? Maybe some mix of them all? ¡°We grew up together. We were as close as¡­ as close as family.¡±


    ¡°He was afraid,¡± Sylvie said, her head lowering so it was just above Art¡¯s. Her words pierced my mind, spreading through me like molten blood. ¡°More afraid of telling you than nearly anything in either life he lived.¡±


    All around us, lingering fires still burned.


    ¡°He¡¯s only ever told two people about his previous life,¡± the dragon eventually said, her voice a solemn croon. ¡°And none since.¡±


    I knew who they were the moment Sylvie said the words. Alice and Reynolds Leywin¨CArthur¡¯s parents. I¡¯d been able to tell that something had changed between them. After he¡¯d gone off to train, the Leywins had been practically devastated. I¡¯d assumed at first that they were grieving his departure; that they couldn¡¯t wait for him to return. Every conversation I¡¯d had with them about Arthur felt stilted and dry, as if I were stepping over unlit tinder just waiting for a spark. And when Art had returned from his training, a sort of tension electrified the room whenever he was present with them. If I hadn¡¯t known Art for so long, I might not have been able to tell, but¡­


    ¡°They rejected him,¡± I said into the smoke, suddenly sure of my words. ¡°He told them right before he left for Epheotus, didn¡¯t he?¡±


    Sylvie didn¡¯t respond. And in that quiet answer, I had a single thought.


    He was afraid, I realized. Afraid that I¡¯d reject him.


    A stilted laugh escaped my lips as I clutched Arthur closer. Sweet, self-sacrificing Arthur, who always worried for others before himself. Arthur, who always put my safety before his. Arthur, who could do anything he set his mind to. Swordsmanship, magic, troop tactics, speeches.


    And Arthur, who in the core of his heart, was afraid of what I might say in response to his great secret.


    Sylvie stared at me askance as the laughter¨Ca strange mix of ironic, maddened, and sorrowful¨Ctumbled from my lips. ¡°Why do you laugh?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m better at being a person than Arthur is most times, what with all his emotional suppression but¡­ I don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s not funny, is it?¡±


    I sniffled, wiping a tear away from my eye. I felt a smile stretch across my face, and I couldn¡¯t decide if it was from happiness or sorrow. ¡°He¡¯s afraid that I


    would reject him,¡± I said, my breathing finally coming back under control as the irony of it all¨Cthe true, painful irony¨Ccemented itself in my mind. ¡°Sylvie, I¡¯ve been practically throwing myself at Arthur since I was eight. And he thought I would¡­¡±


    I felt my smile falter and slip. I¡¯d always thought I wasn¡¯t pretty enough. Or maybe I wasn¡¯t strong enough. Or perhaps I needed to do some sort of elaborate ritual to prove myself old enough for him. But if this was the answer all along, then¡­


    My tears continued to streak down my cheeks as I leaned forward, pressing my lips to Arthur¡¯s forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut, immersing myself in the sound of his steady breathing. I used that. I held onto it as I counted to ten over and over in my head. Grandpa had taught me this when I was young as a technique to clear the mind of excess thoughts. He¡¯d always said it was the only thing that had gotten him through the war with the humans so long ago. The ability to think clearly.


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    And as my mind cleared, there was one other thing I recognized I didn¡¯t understand. So, so many things I didn¡¯t understand. Spellsong¡¯s parting words, where he¡¯d pointed at me as if he were a judge levying condemnation. My core ached from where that dark mass had exited it, the Elderwood Guardian¡¯s Beast Will strangely light and unresponsive. ¡°Sylvie, who is your father?¡± I asked aloud, not moving from where I kept my forehead pressed to Arthur¡¯s.


    There was a long, dreadful silence as I waited for the dragon to reply. The only sounds I could hear were the crackling of fires and the occasional tumble of loose stone around us as this strange underground city¡¯s buildings collapsed from the aftermath of Spellsong and Arthur¡¯s fight.


    Back when I¡¯d been the President of the Student Council in Xyrus Academy, there had been times when I¡¯d cornered noble brats breaking rules. Sometimes there were idiots who would graffiti over the Triunion memorial. Or sometimes spoiled upstarts who thought they could get away with picking on some of the elven or dwarven students.


    I had a specific routine I played out with them. I¡¯d ask them what they were doing, of course, using my best ¡°Student Council President voice.¡± They¡¯d stutter and make an excuse, or perhaps try and brush it off. But we both knew what was happening, so I would continue to press until I got my answers, my chin held high and my arrogance writ clear on my face.


    It was strange to admit, but those moments made me feel so mature. I was the adult in those situations. Even now that I recognized how childish I had acted in intimidating a confession, the moments were still crystal clear in my head.


    But as I waited for Sylvie to answer a question I suspected I already knew the answer to, I felt decidedly small. Weak. Insignificant.


    ¡°Agrona Vritra,¡± the dragon said. Her voice was small enough it could hide amidst the low grass of the Elshire forest, undetected by all but those with the greatest senses. And like a serpent hiding in the dark, the words sent venom through my veins and into my heart.


    ¡ª


    It was a long time before reinforcements finally reached us. I spent the preceding hours in mute silence, trying to wrap my head around everything. So when I saw a dozen rope ladders drop from the hole in the ceiling far above, unfurling themselves as if in slow motion, I found myself grateful for their intervention. Not long after, a team of mages hurried down the ladders, all outfitted in armor and ready for battle.


    I spotted Grandpa first, but not because he was familiar. No¨Che looked decidedly unfamiliar. Overtop his usual loose robes, Grandpa wore plate gauntlets and greaves that gave light protection, the dull metal seeming to glow in the low light of the underground city.


    Around his shoulders was a fur mantle with a long, red cape that made him seem almost regal, a word I rarely ever used to describe him. His expression was a severe mask of determination and suppressed awe as he stared around at the aftermath of Art and Spellsong¡¯s battle. Even now, hours later, the lingering traces of mana and remnants of their destruction still made my temples ache when I focused for too long on them. I found myself subconsciously straightening from where I¡¯d been slouching, the aura of quiet resolve and battle-ready strength practically palpable on my skin. This wasn¡¯t my Grandpa. No, this was Commander Virion, leader of the Triunion forces of Dicathen. The elf who kept us all together as a continent.


    And then he spotted me. Sheltered in Sylvie¡¯s dark wings and with Art held protectively in my grasp amidst fields of ice, fire, and rubble, we must have appeared quite the sight. And I saw how his expression softened, even as it warred with worry and fear.


    Grandpa jumped the rest of the way to the ground, clearing the fifty-foot drop with a bare application of wind magic. The rest of the accompanying mages followed suit, each landing with a solid thump of metal and armor as they arrayed themselves around my grandfather.


    Grandpa turned to a few of the leading mages, each covered head to toe in armor that marked them as elite guards. ¡°Delta squad three, four, and five,¡± he said, pointing to each battle group in turn, ¡°Perform a perimeter sweep with your specialized magic. Make sure there isn¡¯t anything lurking or ready to fight us. If you sense anything amiss, report back to me immediately.¡±


    Each of the mages nodded in turn, then began to fan out in small groups as they started trying to cover the perimeter. Virion watched them go for a moment, his gaze hard.


    And then he turned back to me. I felt a chill run down my spine as he approached. As he neared, he nodded respectfully to Sylvie, who responded with a bare nod of her own.


    He let out a weary sigh as he laid eyes on Arthur, his expression pinching slightly. ¡°When I received your report that Lance Arthur was engaged with Spellsong, I immediately prepared a contingent of elite mages to assess the scene, and if necessary, try and assist in battle,¡± he said seriously. ¡°But it appears that was not entirely necessary. Does he need medical attention, soldier?¡± he questioned firmly, staring down at me.


    I swallowed. Grandpa had promised to treat me like a soldier. It was what we had agreed upon as one of the conditions for joining this war. Yet I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms. To be comforted and told everything would be alright. That the darkness was just a children¡¯s tale; not the reality I had to face every morning.


    ¡°I do not believe so,¡± I said shakily, keeping my chin high. I must have looked like a mess. No doubt my eyes were still rimmed red from crying. My hair was a mess, and I was caked with dirt and grime. My clothes bore tatters on every inch, revealing dark bruises and splashes of blood. ¡°But it would be a good idea to get him checked, Commander,¡± I continued, hoping the tremble in my voice wasn¡¯t too obvious.


    There¡¯s no point, Tessia, a voice that sounded too much like the ¡°Student Council President¡± said. They¡¯ve already seen you graceless and battered. You can¡¯t act like a princess now.


    I pushed those thoughts away as a few emitters approached hastily, both wearing long robes and bearing top-of-the-line mana-focusing wands. I felt a surge of reluctance as I gently released my hold on Arthur, allowing them to take him away for treatment. The healers started in surprise as Sylvie shifted, giving me an affectionate nuzzle before trailing after them like a grim shadow. Even covered in blood, she made the emitters quake nervously in their boots.


    And without her sheltering wings and the warmth of Art¡¯s body, I felt cold.


    Grandpa knelt in front of me, taking me by the shoulders and looking me deeply in the eyes. I stared back, the weight of all I¡¯d learned¨Call I¡¯d witnessed in these past few hours¨Ccovering me like the world¡¯s greatest funeral shroud.


    Something in Grandpa¡¯s eyes cracked at whatever he saw in my own, his fingers clenching on my shoulders. ¡°Oh, little one,¡± he said softly, pulling me into a hug.


    I tried not to cry again. I was a soldier, not a little girl. I shouldn¡¯t get weepy over something as trivial as the sensation of my jaw resting on Grandpa¡¯s shoulder, or his strong arms as they wrapped me in an embrace.


    I failed. Tears streamed out of my eyes anew, regardless of the many mages streaming about who could see. I clawed at my Grandpa¡¯s back, the weight of it all suffocating me as if I were sinking in quicksand. Each event in the day was like another hammer blow slammed into my gut, driving the nails of pain and confusion deeper and deeper with each strike.


    Grandpa¡¯s soft embrace reminded me of when things weren¡¯t so hellish; when every day wasn¡¯t spent in war. I was reminded of my childhood in Elenoir and the days of training under his careful tutelage in mana manipulation.


    How naive I was then, I thought with a wrenching sob. How truly naive.


    It took me some time to gather myself. Grandpa was kind, allowing me this time to just let it all out. But I wasn¡¯t just Tessia, granddaughter to Virion. I was also Princess of Elenoir and a soldier in this war. And I had critical information to convey.


    ¡°Little one,¡± Grandpa said softly, pulling away from me, ¡°What happened here? I heard from Captain Drogo that you and your team were targeted; attacked specifically. It appears that Arthur somehow knew or predicted this, but what happened after?¡±


    In that instant, I thought about telling Virion everything. Even the words that I¡¯d sworn on his name. But even if I wanted to, I couldn¡¯t say everything here. Not where there were so many ears present.


    ¡°Spellsong infiltrated my squad, posing as a new recruit,¡± I said after I took a moment to gather my thoughts. ¡±I figured out that he was an Alacryan, but didn¡¯t realize just who he was. It¡­ didn¡¯t go well for us. And at the end¡­¡±


    I swallowed, my mind flashing to the horrible, wrenching agony that tore itself through my body as Spellsong did whatever it was to my core. At that moment, I didn¡¯t understand what exactly was happening: I only felt fear and terror. But combined with what he had said afterward and the writhing black mana that he¡¯d pulled from my core¡­


    I shuddered imperceptibly. Somehow, my Beast Will had been infected. Tainted. And Spellsong had cleansed it.


    ¡°Art intervened,¡± I said, unable to look my grandpa directly in the eyes. Instead, they tracked the emitters as they hovered over Art¡¯s body, casting their spells and working to assess the Lance¡¯s injuries. ¡°I didn¡¯t see the fight, just the end of it. Art just¡­ fell from the sky. And Spellsong left once the stalemate was reached.¡±


    Virion¡¯s brows furrowed as he stared at me, sensing that I was leaving a great deal out. ¡°Spellsong did nothing else?¡± he questioned, sounding skeptical. ¡°Nothing noteworthy? Or said anything that could hint at his motives for trying to get to you?¡±


    He knows something I don¡¯t, I realized as his gaze probed me for answers. Something about Spellsong and the Alacryans.


    I made a show of looking at the mages around us, before turning back to my grandpa. ¡°Not here,¡± I said quietly, my voice shaking. ¡°Not right now.¡±


    Grandpa stared at me for a second, his eyes darkening in a way that scared me. He opened his mouth to respond, but one of the emitters who was tending to Arthur rushed over with hurried steps, their face a mask of confusion and worry.


    ¡°Commander Virion, sir,¡± he said in a clipped tone, standing straight and tall. ¡°There¡¯s something strange with Lance Arthur¡¯s body. We don¡¯t know how to explain it, but we¡¯re reaching dead ends in every spell we try to diagnose him.¡±


    Virion gave me a stern look, before orienting on the emitter. ¡°What is it, soldier?¡± my grandpa said, his short gray hair seeming to lighten even further as worry threatened to escape his voice.


    The healer frowned, seeming more confused than worried. ¡°None of our spells can find purchase on him, Commander,¡± they said after a moment. ¡°One of the things we need to do before we heal any patient is assess their status so we know what to do and how to correctly proceed with treatment. This usually involves threading a spell into their bodies.¡±


    Grandpa nodded, and I found myself listening with rapt attention. My initial worry had simmered away as the healer seemed more confused and bewildered than panicked, leaving me to question whatever this was.


    ¡°But whenever we try to push our mana through General Arthur¡¯s body, we just¡­ lose control. It¡¯s as if it¡¯s suddenly not our mana anymore. We don¡¯t think the mana disappears or is really absorbed, exactly. It¡¯s like our connection to our spells is just severed the moment it enters Lance Arthur¡¯s body. Outwardly, he appears to be in perfect health. This doesn¡¯t feel like some sort of malevolent force, but¡­¡±


    ¡°This effect isn¡¯t something you must worry about, healer,¡± Sylvie¡¯s voice rumbled out tiredly. The man startled, his eyes blowing wide as the obsidian dragon loomed over us. We were cast in a long, dark shadow that seemed to move and twist with its own life as the scaled beast blotted out the light. ¡°During the course of his battle, my bond manifested a new power. An asuran weapon that is fused with his very body, down to the cells.¡±


    The healer blinked rapidly, seeming overwhelmed as they tried to process that the looming dragon was speaking to them. ¡°O-Oh,¡± they said nervously. ¡°Then I suppose, mighty dragon, that he is well?¡±


    Sylvie snorted, her topaz eyes flashing. ¡°I allowed your magics to touch him to confirm what I already knew.¡± She turned knowing eyes toward me next. ¡°Your priority should be the princess now,¡± she said, her voice a low, irritated growl.


    The poor emitter swallowed, chancing a glance at Virion. My grandpa simply nodded, bowing slightly. ¡°It will be done, Lady Sylvie,¡± he said respectfully. ¡°Is there anything else you wish to tell us?¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s tail flicked, smashing against the ground in an aggravated way as we locked eyes. She wasn¡¯t angry at anyone, I knew. She felt as I did. Powerless. Confused. Scared. And when a dragon felt fear, it manifested as fits of anger.


    ¡°Princess Tessia can brief you once you all return to the castle on what she can afford to say,¡± she said, turning her massive bulk back toward where Art¨Cwhere King Grey¨Claid in slumber. ¡°I must tend to my bond now.¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s shadow trailed after her like a cloak as she plodded back toward Arthur like a guardian deity. It made a striking image¨Cthe battered dragon, nearly broken from battle¨Csettling down to shelter their bond in a protective embrace.


    Virion exhaled as the emitter began to run his healing magic over my body, soothing my wounds and closing what cuts, scrapes, and injuries weren¡¯t already mended. A somber atmosphere rested over everything around us like a heavy layer of snow after a winter storm. Grandpa understood that, even if Arthur, Sylvie, and I made it out of this battle alive, it wasn¡¯t a true victory.


    ¡°We are going to return to the castle,¡± Virion said as the healer left me. ¡°And when we get there, I will receive a full mission report from you.¡±

 Chapter 209: Caged

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I didn¡¯t wake up all at once. Instead, I vaguely remembered flashing in and out of consciousness. Images barely recalled flickered like old film in the depths of my psyche. The low heat of someone¡¯s body close to mine. Rhythmic breathing. A dimly lit room. The cold as I was left alone. Metal biting into my wrists. Firelight. Something soft beneath my body. An effervescent ache that yawned from my core and dripped like boiling water across my veins.


    I slowly pulled my eyes open, the action like lifting the portcullis of a castle wall using only the strength of my body. I groaned in pain as the lingering sensation of backlash scratched at my channels. I blinked blearily, adjusting to the low light of whatever room I was in.


    I was in a small chamber of dark stone. There were no windows within these confines, leaving me in mute darkness that seemed to blanket everything in a chill. Yet despite the grim state of the room, the bed I lay on was remarkably soft. A blanket was draped over me with notable care, warding off the chill.


    Groggily, I tried to wipe my face with my arms.


    And realized they were shackled together.


    I felt the pit drop out of my stomach as I stared at the metal cuffs binding my hands. Belatedly, I realized I couldn¡¯t feel my own mana. I was cut off from the source of my power by the constraining effects of these chains. It felt as if my core were held in the grip of some dark beast, my usual clarity and surety of mind washed away. I was wearing simple linens, none of my usual dress on. My signet ring and dimension ring were gone, whisked away to who-knew-where.


    I felt adrenaline flowing through my veins as I slowly turned, observing the room once more. For the first time, I noticed that there were thick steel bars¨Ceach as wide across as my arm¨Cbarring the far entrance of the room.


    I was in a prison cell.


    Aurora? I asked out of habit, my mouth dry and my thoughts moving like sap. Can you hear me?


    No response. My bond was muted and compressed by the mana-suppressing shackles around my wrists, leaving me adrift and uncertain. My anxiety crested as I tried to calm myself. I was chained and in a cell, but why? What was the last thing I remembered?


    I¡¯d healed Arthur, that much I could recall. And afterward, I¡¯d pulled myself out of the djinni sanctuary, stumbling through the Beast Glades on trembling limbs. I¡¯d collapsed against the trunk of a tree some miles away, and the last thing I¡¯d seen¨C


    My head turned sharply as I heard a slight creak of metal. I blinked owlishly at a nervous guard as they peeked through a sliding window in my cell. ¡°He¡¯s awake!¡± the man called, noticing how I was staring at him. ¡°Send word to our mistress!¡±


    The man quickly shut the little viewing window, leaving me back in the cold of my cell. And just as fast as my adrenaline and anxiety had been rising, it began to simmer away.


    I¡¯d feared that perhaps I¡¯d been captured by Dicathians; that I hadn¡¯t been fast enough in my escape from the underground network of tunnels. But the lingering image of Seris as the moonlight anointed her like some lunar goddess assured me of where I currently was.


    I knew who had locked me in this cell, and why.


    I took a deep, calming breath, moving to sit in a cross-legged position on my admittedly comfortable bed. I couldn¡¯t shift my arms too much, but that wasn¡¯t a problem. I began to meditate, coaxing my lifeforce as I waited.


    I couldn¡¯t affect my mana with these shackles. But the aether of my body was entirely unmolested by the cold iron around my wrists. My lifeforce¨Cstill aching and twinging from all the strain I¡¯d put it through not long ago, flowed in cycles around my body in tune with my heartbeat.


    Breathe in, breathe out.In, out.In¡­ and out, I thought, meshing myself with the flow of energy across my veins.


    And as my lifeforce flowed, I found myself strangely contemplative. For me, meditation wasn¡¯t the removal of all thoughts and emptying of the mind. No; my thoughts and emotions were what made me whole. When I meditated, I allowed all I thought, all I felt, to flow through me in steady waves. Just like the steady meander of a river, or the gentle flush of molten metal as it filled in a mold.


    Each of my emotions filled in a groove in my mind, bringing color and contrast as they went. Anger and despair at the actions I¡¯d needed to commit in Burim flashed a painful red. The yellow of fear intertwined with those as well: the fear that I¡¯d lose myself. That the reasons I gave for justifying my needs were just rationalizations that let me taint my soul without true cause.


    And then there was the steady blue of confidence and determined resolve holding everything together. That emotion danced with the bright fuschias of care and compassion that fueled them. And on the borders of it all, there were specks of black hatred that stood like steady supports to it all.


    Like oxygen to a flame, each emotion worked together to make me me. If one was gone, then all would become unbalanced. Weighty and unstable, like a candleflame in the breeze.


    And as I immersed myself in my emotions and thoughts, I noticed another rise in waves that hadn¡¯t been as prominent. A burning, passionate red that simultaneously seared anything in its way, while keeping everything in its vicinity warm and comfortable. A true paradox of self slowly interweaved through the troughs of my mind, following its own path and pattern.


    The deepest subconscious parts of my psyche had sensed something familiar. Something that aroused those emotions as if by reflex.


    The scent of flowers¨Cof a deep perfume that invaded the soul¨Ctickled my nose.


    I opened my eyes slowly. Seris stood within my cell, staring down at me with a look of barely restrained anger. With my core shackled, I couldn¡¯t sense her intent even if I wished to, yet I suspected her emotions had pushed past her cloaking artifact nonetheless.


    ¡°Do you know why you are imprisoned, Toren?¡± the Scythe asked, her perfect alabaster face shifting as she struggled with her emotions. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I do,¡± I acknowledged solemnly, remaining in my meditative pose. I allowed my breath to flow like the blood in my veins.


    ¡°Tell me why,¡± Seris demanded sharply, her onyx eyes flashing. ¡°Why are you chained and imprisoned? I want to be certain. Certain that you understood everything that you¡¯ve done.¡±


    I met her eyes with my own solemn ones. ¡°I disobeyed direct orders, leaving Burim without notice or consultation and abandoning my duties. And along the way, I freed a high-profile prisoner, an act considered treasonous within Alacrya,¡± I said succinctly.


    The ease with which I admitted my guilt made Seris¡¯ brow twitch. Her mana¨Cher intent¨Cradiated out in a suffocating wave that sought to steal the breath from my lungs. But the pressure seemed to part around me as my meditative state allowed this, too, to simply enter my stream of consciousness.


    More acknowledged emotions.


    ¡°Then you should know the consequences for treason,¡± she hissed, striding forward. Her dark dress billowed around her on small eddies of power as she approached me. ¡°What I shall have to do in response.¡±


    I allowed my eyes to close as Seris drew closer, my meditative state beginning to shift and quake as her proximity sent ripples of unsteadying emotion through my mind. I needed to remain calm. Needed to¨C


    ¡°Why?¡± Seris demanded, her voice taut with anger. With¡­ betrayal. ¡°Why did you do it? Reports have come in; whispers from the highest echelons of the Triunion. That Godspell and Spellsong engaged in battle. What was your purpose?¡±


    I wrenched my eyes open. Seris¡¯ face wasn¡¯t far from my own, and in her hands¡­


    The dwarven puzzle relic settled in her long, slender fingers. The single glyph at the center glowed a brilliant orange, making her face seem as if it were behind a fire-kissed window.


    Before I¡¯d left, I¡¯d dropped the puzzle¨Ccompleted at last¨Coff in Seris¡¯ chambers. Just in case something happened. In case I failed, so that she¡¯d know I hadn¡¯t forgotten. That she wouldn¡¯t be left with questions.


    I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself again. To settle the tremble of my heart as Seris¡¯ eyes¨Cswirling with a mix of fury, fear, and¡­ something else¨Cbored into my own like Varadoth¡¯s horns themselves. ¡°Before our assault on Burim, I was hesitant. I would need to take actions I¡¯d never imagined. I¡¯d never comprehended before.¡± I tilted my head, allowing my long, golden-red hair to shadow one of my eyes. ¡°Cylrit relieved me of that folly, Seris. He told me that you¡¯d put so much of yourself forward, that it was wrong of me not to reciprocate.¡±


    I exhaled, then took another deep breath. I allowed my diaphragm to fully expand, the sensation of air in my lungs telling me that I was alive. ¡°He told me that I needed to dedicate my whole heart to your cause.¡±


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    Seris snorted derisively, pulling away and turning sharply on her heels. ¡°And I suppose getting yourself locked away in a cell was part of your plan, hmm?¡± she said. ¡°That this position you¡¯ve cornered me into is part of my cause?¡±


    ¡°Would you believe me if I said yes?¡± I hedged.


    Seris whirled again, and this time there was only fury in her obsidian eyes. A blade of solid black light extended from her hands in a heartbeat, and in the next, it was pressed against my chest. I grit my teeth as it opened a cut over my heart, the edge inching forward ever-so-slowly. ¡°You presume so, so much, Spellsong,¡± she said, her voice cold as a grave. ¡°You presume my emotions. My self. And now my cause? I am a Scythe, Lord Daen. My motives are not something you can assume so casually.¡±


    I closed my eyes, listening to the barest hum of the Scythe¡¯s black mana blade as blood streamed down my chest. Yet I didn¡¯t break my pose. I didn¡¯t move as that knife threatened my heart.


    I waited for a while, listening to the thrum of my heartbeat. To the thrum of Seris¡¯ rapid heartbeat as she held her blade over my chest. That tension lingered, manifesting in the shadows and within the recesses of my mind.


    Then Seris scoffed, her mana blade dissipating. I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the woman as she spun on her heel, turning to face the exit. ¡°I¡¯ll be back, Lord Daen,¡± she said, a familiar coldness seeping through her words. ¡°And I expect you to answer me more fully next time.


    ¡±


    She strode out of the room, the sound of her high heels on the stone echoing out into the stillness. The door to my cell slammed shut behind her, the metal creaking at the abuse.


    And as she left, I found myself contemplating what I should say to her when she returned. What I could say. I trusted Seris. Trusted her in a way I did very, very few, in either of my lives. And when she came demanding answers for my actions, what response could I give? How much was I willing to reveal? I needed time to contemplate all that I would say.


    I stared down at the small wound over my heart where Seris¡¯ blade had cut me. It still bled a steady stream of red liquid, and if I really, really concentrated, I could hear the little flecks of heartfire within. Without the constant noise of my mana sense, it was ironically easier to dissect the ambiance of heartfire.


    With thoughts of Seris on my mind, I refocused on my meditation, trying to center myself. Trying to find an anchor point.


    I blinked as the thought came and went like a leaf atop a steady stream. Anchor point.


    My bond with Aurora was muted because my connection to my core was suppressed by the shackles around my wrists. Aurora¡¯s essence¨Cher soul, memories, mind, whatever I could call it¨Cwas centralized around the feather that drifted lazily in my white-streaked nexus of power.


    But my bond with the phoenix shade wasn¡¯t just physical. It was deeper than that. She used not just my core, but my very soul as an anchor point for her own.


    And while I couldn¡¯t influence my mana, my heartfire operated on a more fundamental level than even that.


    I took a deep breath, then called on the lifeforce in my veins. I began to craft an ephemeral vein of cascading energy¨Cthe same kind I used as a supporting weight for my shrouded saber. Except instead of projecting it out into the world as I usually did, I allowed it to thread from my heart to my mana core.


    Immediately, sensation began to flow along the highway of energy. Aurora¡¯s feather glowed with the light of a waxing dawn as our bond came alight once more in my mind.


    I didn¡¯t know what I expected to feel as the Unseen World washed over my vision. Maybe a somber hope for my wellbeing. Perhaps a tinge of disappointment that I¡¯d pushed myself so far; hurt myself so deeply. Maybe even the same melancholy air that I experienced now as I contemplated my next conversation with Seris Vritra.


    Instead, I felt a white-hot stab of fury. Fury and fear disrupted the calm equilibrium of my meditation as Aurora appeared before me, her teeth clenched and her eyes almost wild.


    ¡°You¡¯re caged,¡± she hissed, her hair flaring. ¡°That woman dared to cage you. To put you in a cell. She knows not the violation of her actions, Toren. Of what she¡¯s done to us.¡±


    I reached my arms out on instinct¨Ceach still lashed together by the mana suppression shackles¨Cand settled them on Aurora¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Aurora, I¡¯m here,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m fine, okay?¡±


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not fine, Toren,¡± she snapped, her eyes flashing as she clenched her fists. ¡°You¡¯re caged. Locked away. Your hands shackled and your freedom stripped. It is an affront to all that you are. All that we are. Just like¨C¡±


    My bond shut her eyes, the light winking out as she visibly shuddered. My hands fell as my brow creased in sympathy.


    ¡°Just like Agrona,¡± I whispered, understanding why she was so distraught at my capture.


    Aurora shuddered visibly, before heavily setting herself down on the bed beside me. As usual, the bed made no indent as she did so, but I felt certain that if it could, the entire floor would have caved in from the weight on her shoulders.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t like this dark,¡± she reluctantly said, her eyes dimming. ¡°I know darkness, Toren. I¡¯ve seen plenty of flavors of it in my time in this world. But the darkness of a cage is one that teases the light beyond, tempting and convincing you that escape is just around the corner. That there is hope, only for you to languish endlessly.¡±


    I awkwardly patted my bond on the back with both my shackled hands. ¡°We won¡¯t be here long,¡± I said quietly. ¡°When Seris returns and I tell her a bit more about my goals and secrets, I¡¯m confident we¡¯ll be released. She can¡¯t afford to keep us locked up.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to say, my son?¡± Aurora asked, her voice quiet and sad.


    ¡°I¡¯m still thinking about that,¡± I responded with a sigh. ¡°But¨C¡±


    My words cut off as I heard a heartbeat approaching. It was quick and pounding, and I thought I could discern a hint of something more sinister beneath the resounding overtones. I narrowed my eyes as the Unseen World washed away. Even with my sense of intent muted and blanketed, I could almost taste the nervousness and barebones fear that coursed through that heartfire.


    And they were coming directly for me.


    I slowly stood as the heartbeat lingered outside my cell door. The little barred window that let in bits of light was cast in shadow as someone blocked it, breathing heavily in an audible manner. Whoever it was hesitated noticeably, leaving my own tension to rise a bit in turn.


    Who is it, I thought, and why are they so nervous?


    The door finally opened, revealing a familiar figure. Their wavy, moss-green hair clung to their face like seaweed, making their eyes shine more in contrast.


    Xander, spy for both Renea Shorn and Seris Vritra, stood in the doorway.


    I felt the tension in my shoulders relax slightly as I took him in. If he was here, it was certainly on Seris¡¯ orders. I¡¯d expected to be made to wait a lot longer before the Scythe called on me again, but it wasn¡¯t a bad surprise.


    ¡°Oh, Xander,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I didn¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°My name¡¯s not Xander,¡± the man snapped, his posture shifting like a coiled snake.


    I blinked, my wariness returning as he stared at me. That strange timbre to his heartfire scratched at the back of my skull like nails on a chalkboard, leaving me feeling uncertain and guarded.


    Truth be told, I¡¯d never asked for the spy¡¯s true name, even after I¡¯d realized he was wearing a cloaking artifact. And considering he hadn¡¯t offered it, either, I believed that was the right choice. ¡°Okay,¡± I said, ¡°then¨C¡±


    ¡°Have you ever needed to do something, Spellsong?¡± Xander asked sharply, staring at me with clenched hands. ¡°Needed to take that step that no others could? To truly rise to the occasion?¡±


    My mind flashed with a dozen images at the mage¡¯s words. The moment I¡¯d first accepted my contract with Aurora. The sound of resounding spellfire as I battled the leviathan beneath the undead zone. And the surety of self I¡¯d experienced as I engaged Soulplume for the first time against Mardeth.


    But while I¡¯d normally reply that yes, I had¨Cthere was something quietly ominous simmering through the air. I felt the hairs on the backs of my arms stand on end, my inborn instincts warning me against something.


    ¡°What is this about?¡± I asked slowly, my expression settling into something hard.


    Xander began to nervously pace at the forefront of the room. Back and forth, to and fro. Like a metronome caught in a loop, he seemed unable to stand still. ¡°I told you how I met Renea Shorn. How my family didn¡¯t know that I was under the orders of a Scythe. But I was sent to this war anyways, and they still don¡¯t care,¡± he seethed, his aura flaring. There was something¡­ dark about it.


    ¡°I remember,¡± I said carefully. I¡¯d had a talk with Xander about that before I¡¯d been sent to the Beast Glades as punishment. ¡°You mentioned this before. How it hurt you.¡±


    ¡°I never said anything about how it hurt me!¡± Xander yelled, turning on me as his voice rebounded around the cell in a resounding echo. He swallowed, his pupils narrowing into pinpricks as the sound slowly traveled.


    I watched him with that same guarded expression. ¡°Okay,¡± I said more softly, ¡°then what is this about?¡±


    Xander went back to pacing, pointedly ignoring my gaze. At that moment, it seemed more like he was the one chained and I was not. ¡°I received a sign,¡± he said. ¡°I asked for so, so long for some sort of direction. For what I should do to receive their recognition. And I was finally granted it, not a day ago. Finally,¡± he said, his breath coming as a shudder.


    I felt an ominous chill douse the warmth of my heartfire at his words, finally pinpointing what exactly was different about his heartfire. What that gnawing blackness that scraped against the inside of my eardrums truly was. ¡°What is your name, Xander?¡± I said, my fingers clasping together. ¡°Beneath that cloaking artifact of yours?¡±


    Xander looked at me, but quickly averted his gaze at the intensity of my own. ¡°Wolfrum,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Wolfrum Redwater.¡±


    I felt the bottom fall out of my stomach. Wolfrum Redwater. In The Beginning After the End, he¡¯d acted as a spy planted by Dragoth to backstab Seris during her rebellion.


    ¡°What is this step you need to take, Wolfrum?¡± I demanded, my words like commanding iron. ¡°Look at me, Wolfrum. What are you about to do?¡±


    The man licked his lips, his eyes meeting mine defiantly. For a second, I saw black fire in the depths of his pupils. ¡°I¡¯m going to bring about the downfall of a Scythe. And then nobody will be able to dismiss me.¡±

 Chapter 210: To Catch a Traitor

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Wolfrum¡¯s words settled across the room like a thick blanket. Not the kind that kept you warm in the depths of winter. No, this was akin to the sort a murderer would wrap around your mouth to cut off your screams. It was suffocating, a presence within that stole life from everything around it.


    ¡°The downfall of a Scythe,¡± I said after a minute, the words leaving my mouth as if torn. ¡°And how exactly are you going to do this, Wolfrum?¡± I challenged.


    ¡°Seris brought me in because she thought I had basilisk blood,¡± Wolfrum spat, resuming his manic, almost crazed pacing. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how she figured. But she was right. I manifested a few weeks ago. Right after you went to the Beast Glades. I¡¯d been asking myself what I should do. What options I had next, when I was doomed to just be a pawn for the rest of my life. And as if a message from the Sovereigns themselves, they bestowed me with their answer.¡±


    I licked my lips, my mind whirling at a hundred miles an hour. If I hadn¡¯t been meditating just a moment before, I suspected I wouldn¡¯t be so equipped to process all of this. I felt my brows narrow as I tried to approach this logically, simultaneously feeling the tension of it all agitating my nerves.


    Wolfrum Redwater had acted as an agent of Seris in the original canon of that otherworld novel after she¡¯d erected a mana barrier around all of Sehz-Clar, keeping Agrona and the Legacy herself locked out. Except, just as Seris had sent Caera on a mission to contact Arthur in Dicathen, Wolfrum¨Cwho¡¯d been accompanying Caera as an agent¨Chad betrayed her, revealing himself to be a double agent for Dragoth Vritra and colluding with forces from Vechor.


    But from how he¡¯s talking, I thought, centering on one thing, he doesn¡¯t appear to be working for anyone else. Only himself. Does that mean Dragoth isn¡¯t a part of this?


    ¡°And you plan to somehow harm Seris,¡± I said slowly, ¡°after all she has done for you? To try and bring about her downfall?¡±


    ¡°After all she has done for me?!¡± Wolfrum snapped, rounding on me with a spark of fire in his eyes. ¡±She made me a glorified secretary, Spellsong! Do you have any idea how long I worked under her? How long it took me to learn her true identity, apart from Lady Shorn? All those years I endured her cold remarks and errant personality. All for some upstart to surpass me in months! How good you must be in bed, Toren, for her to just¡­ throw away all I¡¯ve done!¡±


    I felt my anger rise as Wolfrum levied his accusation. I restrained the urge to throw myself at him and wrap my fingers around his throat, the implication against Seris making something dark in my gut churn.


    Instead, I closed my eyes, my fingers flexing as I took a measured breath.


    For some reason I couldn¡¯t understand, Wolfrum was confiding this to me. Talking to me while I was leashed in a cage. Even if he was using it to hurl insults and trying to raise my ire, he didn¡¯t have to approach me, did he?


    ¡°Keep him talking,¡± Aurora hissed in my ear, her fury still palpable from being caged. ¡°Never interrupt an enemy when they are making a mistake. Never.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re doing this because of me,¡± I accused, the sharp edge to my voice palpable. ¡°Because you¡¯re jealous of what I¡¯ve gained?¡±


    ¡°You gained nothing,¡± Wolfrum shot back. He looked like he wanted to march forward, but I detected a bare trace of fear in his eyes that still stayed his anger. ¡°And still I¡¯m relegated to secretary. That¡¯s all I would¡¯ve ever been, but not now.¡±


    And suddenly, it clicked. Why Wolfrum was here, monologuing about his plans.


    ¡°You¡¯ve never told anyone this, have you?¡± I said, narrowing my eyes. I took a step forward, and in turn, Wolfrum stepped back. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, telling me this. It¡¯s built and built and built for so long. And now you need someone to rant to. To try and make yourself feel justified for the sin you¡¯re about to commit. For the act of betrayal.¡±


    Wolfrum wilted for a moment, but then I heard something dark in his heartbeat twist. I hastily turned to the side, barely avoiding a burst of black wind on instinct. I lost a few locks of my golden hair as the arc of void wind dug into the floor of my cell nearby.


    I halted in my steps, sensing the danger of moving any further toward the mentally unstable mage. Wolfrum was holding out a trembling hand, his arm shaking and his eyes wide as he stared at me with a familiar madness. The same madness I¡¯d felt as I¡¯d seen the crossroads before me in Burim.


    Wolfrum engaged his mana, and a familiar object appeared out of a dimension ring on his right hand. My eyes widened as Aurora¡¯s relic settled into his fingers, and I felt the urge to launch myself at him again.


    ¡°She knew about this,¡± Wolfrum said with a shaking voice. ¡°Knew about it the moment Sevren Denoir left the Relictombs. Knew about it when it was given to you. And I have all the proof I need in my ring, along with more.¡±


    I felt my heart drop out of the bottom of my stomach as the words registered. If Wolfrum were to escape, to bring that evidence to the right people¨C


    I threw myself forward with a snarl. I was slow¨Cpitifully, painfully slow without mana enhancing my body. Yet the action still seemed to catch Wolfrum off guard. He stumbled backward as I launched myself at him, falling on his ass with a surprised cry. My eyes flashed as my hands reached for the relic.


    My shackles lurched as they tugged on something, sending my leap into a tumble. My head cracked against the stones hard, my vision flashing as I failed my objective. Wolfrum scrambled backward, his breathing quick with fear.


    ¡°Coward!¡± I called after Wolfrum, a mana chain tying my cuffs to a point further back in my cell. ¡°Envious, bitter wretch!¡± I snarled, my heart thundering with growing fear.


    ¡°I can¡¯t kill you,¡± Wolfrum said quietly. ¡°You¡¯ll be needed at a trial. At her trial. To prove that I¡¯m right. That this is what is deserved.¡±


    ¡°Deserved?!¡± I snapped, my meditative trance breaking into a million shards. At that moment, I didn¡¯t think I hated anyone more. ¡°You¡¯re so desperate to appeal to people who never cared for you that you¡¯ll betray the one who does?!¡±


    ¡°Shut up!


    ¡± Wolfrum yelled in response, his face clenching as veins of anger erupted across his face. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything, Spellsong. Nothing!¡±


    ¡°I know an envious child when I see one,¡± I snapped, words the only thing I could throw right now. Internally, I was trying desperately to think of a way to remove my shackles, to escape the binds of steel around my wrists. I just needed to keep Wolfrum here. Keep him occupied.


    Wolfrum stood, shakily dusting off his tunic. ¡°I have an appointment to keep. People to meet with. You¡­ You can¡¯t stop me. Nobody can,¡± he said, more to himself than to me.


    I watched with hateful eyes as Wolfrum stumbled out of the prison cell. I gnashed my teeth from the floor, the implications of his words striking like hammer blows inside my mind. If it became known that Seris had shielded Sevren from having his relic discovered¨Cwhich I hadn¡¯t even known¨Cthen the consequences would be disastrous.


    I could picture it in my mind. The entirety of Highblood Denoir¨Cadopted and not¨Cexecuted before the High Sovereign himself. Their empty, void-like intent clawed at the insides of my skull, each mind withered away. Sevren and Caera looked at me with hollow eyes. Lenora clutched her son, her mouth opened in one last breath of despair. I could see Wade and Naereni there, too, both condemned for associating with me. The last of Karsien¡¯s legacy would flicker away like soulfire particles, amounting to nothing.


    And at the forefront of the mental image was another body, deprived of will. One that once would¡¯ve been full of lithe, sleek grace. One who bore hair kissed by silver and lavender, with eyes that could see anything they wished. Except in my vision, they were so, so empty. The inquisitive mind behind them had been scoured away as a tsunami tears away buildings in its path. Torn away as meat sloughs off a bone.


    All of them just like Greahd.


    And above the still-living corpses of everyone I knew, I could only see Agrona¡¯s twinkling ruby eyes, each quietly mocking.


    No, I thought feverishly, my heartbeat pounding in my chest. No, I won¡¯t let him take more from me. I won¡¯t let him have them.


    I gnashed my teeth, beginning to pace in my empty cell much as Wolfrum had a minute before. I clenched my jaw so hard I feared my teeth might crack.


    What¡¯s stopping my mana core from functioning? I asked myself, taking a bare moment to look inside. All my mana was compressed into myself, like a lid forcefully fastened to a pot of boiling water. It wasn¡¯t allowed to escape, but¨C


    I froze in my tracks, my eyes widening. Like a lid on a pot of boiling water.


    In that analogy, what opening would the lid be covering, exactly?


    ¡°Aurora,¡± I said aloud quickly, my mind beginning to spin. ¡°Aurora, can you check my core? Tell me how these shackles work, the best you can! How are they cutting off my mana sense?¡±


    I felt as my bond began to trace my thoughts, her own emotions shifting to determination and hope as she saw what I was thinking. The phoenix shade¨Cinvisible to me¨Cdove into my core. And I sensed her mind light up with quiet triumph.


    ¡°This device restricts your mana veins and channels,¡± she said quickly. ¡°Just as you guessed. It squeezes them off like a clamp over a hose, stopping their flow! Which means¨C¡±


    Which means that I can counteract it, I thought with growing determination. I can fight against that effect.


    The principles of my newest technique, Resonant Flow, worked on a fundamentally similar concept. Except instead of closing off my mana veins and channels, I temporarily widened them and increased their flow, allowing for far more mana to be delivered to every inch of my body and to be utilized at a single time.


    And these shackles worked by the inverse. Which meant I could break out.


    They can¡¯t hold me, I thought, resolve settling within my bones. Those still ached, and I suspected they¡¯d ache even more after what I was about to do.


    ¡°Be careful, my bond,¡± Aurora transmitted, appearing beside me and laying a hand on my shoulder. ¡°This technique of yours runs the risk of doing irreparable damage.¡±


    I know, I thought with gritted teeth. Images of Seris¡¯ dead eyes flashed through my mind again. But I refuse to let more pay for my actions.


    I commanded my heart to beat. And under the heedful call of its master, the organ slammed against my ribcage with the force of an asura¡¯s stroke. I winced in pain. Again!


    My heartfire surged in my chest as I felt the technique begin to engage. Sweat beaded on my skin as aether surged along my conduits, pressing them outward. Something pushed back, of course, but I grit my teeth.


    The scar over my heart began to leak light, casting my cell in the vibrant kiss of sunrise. I heaved for breath as mana began to funnel over my limbs, a bare trickle inching past the restraining artifact.


    I felt strength return to my muscles as mana seeped into them. I grit my teeth, then pulled.


    For an instant, I was afraid it wasn¡¯t enough. The energy that seeped into my body was minimal and bare by my usual standards, and I felt a streak of fear as I contemplated the possibility that this wouldn¡¯t see me through.


    I heard a single whine, like the low pitch of an engine as it strained. The runes adorning my mana cuffs flashed a few times, flickering in and out as the metal creaked.


    The shackles around my wrists exploded into shrapnel as they broke apart, peppering the walls with metal shards. More than a few lodged into my skin, drawing blood and causing me to grunt in pain. I fell to my knees, Resonant Flow evaporating as I failed to maintain the technique any longer.


    I heaved for breath, my mana sense returning in one steady rush like molten honey across my veins. Yet as it cascaded down my arms, I felt the ache of my battle with Arthur make itself known once more. My arms trembled weakly as I felt a simultaneous surge of strength and burning weakness.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I pulled myself to my feet unsteadily, blood leaking from a dozen wounds across my chest where the shards of metal protruded from my linen shirt. The pain radiating from my body, however, was inconsequential to the fear that pervaded my every thought.


    I stumbled toward the door of my cell. Runes flashed along the walls, flaring a bright yellow as they attempted to drain my mana.


    I grit my teeth, clamping down on the attempted pull as I lurched forward. My internal mana control was superb, honed by many months of assimilation and chasing the prowess of my asuran bond. The draining sensation stuttered, failing to find purchase as my mind battled the protections inlaid into the stones.


    I reached the door, my breath straining as I struggled to keep my power in check. There was an ominous hum building in the back of my mind as the spellforms carved into each rock failed. I took a deep breath, feeling as Aurora helped center my mind.


    Then I punched the steel door. The block of solid metal was ripped from its hinges, flying into the hallway beyond with the force of a cannonball. A fist-sized dent was apparent on the exterior as it flew away.


    I heard the shocked cries of the guards as I suddenly appeared before them. The eyes of two Alacryan soldiers widened in surprise as I darted from my cell. One opened his mouth, no doubt to scream in alarm, but a barrier of sound enveloped him, choking off his words.


    I slammed my fist into his gut, cratering his armor. He fell limp with a whimper.


    I whirled, slipping the strike of the other guard¡¯s rabid spear thrust. I grabbed the shaft of metal, before pulling it forward. The terrified striker tried to engage some sort of earth rune, but a quick twist of his weapon sent the butt of the spear smashing into his jaw.


    He fell limp, relinquishing his weapon to me in a spray of teeth.


    I felt a wave of guilt rise through my chest as I saw what I¡¯d done to his jaw, but I couldn¡¯t afford to be gentle now. I clenched the shaft of the spear tight, mana coursing through my veins as I inspected the hallway. I tried to hone in on my heartfire senses, trying desperately to detect where Wolfrum had gone.


    Take the left path! Aurora commanded, her voice harsh and stern at once. There are lingering mana traces there! I shall guide you, my bond!


    I didn¡¯t think twice, trusting in my soul-bound companion. I blurred along the hallway, passing more guards as I followed her instructions. I spun on my heels midair, the spear in my hands flashing as I used it to bat away oncoming spells that attempted to flay me alive.


    An alarm gradually began to ring through the prison complex, thundering through the stones like a war drum. I ignored it, continuing on.


    Turn right here! Aurora¡¯s voice commanded. He¡¯s going toward the surface! You¡¯re catching up!


    I skidded around a corner, coming face to face with a dozen guards. They all stumbled backward in fear as my intent washed over them, the anxiety and worry and fury battering them like waves struck a wooden ship in a storm. More than a few dwarves began to call on their magic, raising walls of earth and metal to bar by path. The Alacryans with them followed suit, cementing the barrier to my path.


    I grit my teeth, my heartbeat resounding in my ears. My fingers trembled where they clutched the haft of the spear. Wolfrum will get away if I let him! I thought in a panic. I can¡¯t let anything bar my path! Can¡¯t let them keep me from the traitor!


    I cocked my arm back, leveraging the spear as I faced the massive wall of stone and metal before me. I could hear the heartfires of the frightened guards beyond, each trembling as my intent redoubled. I engaged my Acquire Phase, my core lurching and my body burning as the chains along my left arm glowed a bloody red.


    A telekinetic stream of force appeared before me as I imbued the spear in my hands with sound mana. It vibrated at supersonic speeds as I heated the speartip with a dose of fire magic, the structure within breaking down at the concentration of power. The tip glowed red-hot as it vibrated like a saw, the mana packed into it warping the air. Then it burst into flames.


    I gnashed my teeth, using the mana signatures of my foes as an anchor.


    Then I threw the spear. The stream of psychic force accelerated the spear like a bolt from the asura themselves, turning it into a surging streak of force. It passed through the walls in front of me without resistance, shattering rock and obliterating metal in a concussive wave that traveled in the blink of an eye.


    I didn¡¯t have time to check on the mages who had tried to use those barriers to protect themselves from me, though I was distantly aware that many of their lifeforces radiated the effects of wounds and damage. The shockwave that obliterated their protection and the shrapnel no doubt had caused untold damage among the defending guards.


    I blurred through the gap, ignoring the flaming rubble as I surged through the stone hallways.


    And then I sensed it. For the first time, I caught the barest tremble of Wolfrum¡¯s dark heartbeat in my ears. I felt my pupils dilate and my mouth pull into a snarl. I¡¯d caught the scent of my prey¡¯s fear. Their terror.


    I erupted from a doorway, emerging into the streets of Burim in a conflagration of fire. My body protested as I skidded to a halt, smoke trailing behind me from the building. The alarm ringing through the prison complex was audible even now, but it was muffled by my single-track attention as I listened for the heartbeat of my prey.


    The building I¡¯d emerged from was actually close to the floor of Burim. If I looked out from the massive stalactite I was on, I could make out small rivers of magma glowing in the darkness far below. If I were in a better state of mind, perhaps I¡¯d take more time to observe my surroundings.


    Dwarves around me shied back in shock and fear as I turned in a slow circle, many calling for help or reaching for weapons. I ignored them, looking upward.


    And I saw Wolfrum, far beyond on a distant platform that kissed the edge of a stalactite. He¡¯d relinquished his disguise of Xander, instead revealing a man with mismatched eyes and choppy dark hair. And as we locked gazes from a thousand feet away, I felt his fear skyrocket. I savored that sense like fine wine as I held him in my eyes.


    ¡°You can¡¯t escape me,¡± I whispered, feeling my body ache as I shifted my stance, crouching as I engaged my magic. ¡°You are my prey,¡± I hissed.


    Wolfrum certainly couldn¡¯t hear me, but I knew he could read my lips. Read my intent. Read what was going to happen to him when my fingers closed around his throat.


    He turned, running into the darkness as if Agrona himself were hot on his heels.


    That darkness would not save him.


    I surged upward in a conflagration of mindfire force as I arced toward another platform. My emblem flared as I thrust my hands out, latching out with pulling force as I yanked myself toward another gap.


    I smashed into the side of a massive stalactite, rock cratering around my feet as I hit it with the force of a missile. My body trembled, a shiver running through it that told me I was still weak. My body nearly broke from the strain.


    I ignored that as I began running up the length of the rock, the soles of my boots glowing white as my magic kept my feet lashed to the stone. I pumped my arms, ignoring the buildup of mana far behind me as mages prepared their spells.


    I crouched, then backflipped off the stalagmite in a burst of rock-splintering force. I rocketed toward the platform I¡¯d spotted Wolfrum on, my nostrils flaring as I honed in on the traitor.


    I skidded to a halt, my heartbeat slowing as my neck turned like a bird of prey searching for its meal. The people around me shied away as my intent radiated out, men crowding back into their storefronts and women clutching their children.


    I inhaled slowly through my nose, settling my thoughts for a moment.


    Then I turned, catching the trail once more. ¡°You can¡¯t run, traitor,¡± I said aloud, my voice oscillating ominously from unconscious use of sound magic. I stalked forward, smoking footprints left behind as the crowds parted for me.


    I found the building easily enough. His intent radiated a quiet terror, washing against me as I loped toward it, a snarl building on my lips as fire sputtered around me.


    This hatred I felt deep in my gut¡­ It was unlike me. I hadn¡¯t felt something like this since Mardeth. But just like the wretched Vicar of Plague, the traitor threatened something he should have never touched.


    And then something else surged from the building. A volley of blood iron spikes erupting from the ground forced me to quickly reorient, the shards of black metal peppering the street beyond and eliciting cries of terror from the civilians beyond.


    ¡°There is another within,¡± Aurora informed me. ¡°A colluder.¡±


    A man emerged from the building¨Cone I immediately found familiar. Jordan Redwater strutted from the smoke, the commando¡¯s eyes surging malevolently as he faced me. ¡°Maybe you should pick on someone your own size, Spellsong,¡± he mocked, the war paint under his eyes seeming to darken as a sword of blood iron appeared in his grip. ¡°Leave our little lackey out of this, eh? I¡¯ve always wanted to see what would happen if I tried to drive this sword into your gut.¡±


    Behind him, Wolfrum was staring out, trembling all across his body as my intent slammed into him. I noticed a familiar device in his hands, one that made me snarl in fury. Of course, there were more people in on the plot.


    Jordan and Wolfrum were no doubt related by blood. I should have expected this.


    ¡°Run along, little brother,¡± Jordan said to the traitor behind him. ¡°Meet up with the rest of the Bastards Victorious. They¡¯d love to hear all you¡¯ve told me here.¡±


    Wolfrum hesitated, his eyes blowing wide as anger surged through him. ¡°But if I do that, then all the credit for¨C¡±


    A rock streaked in from the side, outlined in white as it nearly brained Wolfrum in the skull. Except a spike of blood iron intercepted it, leaving the boy to stumble backward in terror.


    ¡°You should be focusing on me,¡± Jordan¨Cthe sick bastard¨Csaid as Wolfrum began to scramble away. His mana flared, revealing his status to me as a mid-silver core mage. He grinned malevolently as he flexed. Blood iron plates, each conjured scute the color of darkest night, began to layer themselves over him into full armor. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to¨C¡±


    I appeared in front of the Redwater mage, my Acquire Phase burning hot in my veins. I kept my eyes focused on Wolfrum far beyond as my hand grasped Jordan¡¯s throat, the indent of my fingers causing the black metal to warp. ¡°Wha¨C¡±


    I shifted my stance, swinging my foot back and sweeping Jordan¡¯s legs out from under him. The armor around his legs shattered into a million shards as his bones cracked. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then I thrust my hand downward, slamming the back of his head into the ground. The entire platform trembled as a crater opened up beneath him. He gasped in pain and agony as his armor of Vritra-tainted metal shattered. The shards of it dug into my fingers, adding more blood to the flow.


    I exhaled, barely acknowledging the wretch at my feet. He gasped like a dying fish as he stared up at me uncomprehendingly. I didn¡¯t say anything, just pointed two fingers at his head.


    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± he cried, blood streaming from his lips. ¡°I can tell¨C¡±


    A beam of plasma erupted from my middle and index fingers, searing through his head and out the other side. His heartfire winked out like a puff of mist. The scent of burnt flesh radiated into the air as Jordan Redwater died.


    The entire time, I hadn¡¯t taken my eyes away from Wolfrum. He¡¯d managed to get even further away, and I felt a surge of fear and trepidation roil through me as he began to input mana into the anvil-shaped device in his hand.


    The tempus warp that had taken me to the Beast Glades, covered in cracks and wear from overuse, sputtered to life in his palms. No doubt he¡¯d stolen it from Seris, too. A portal began to fuzz into existence in slow motion, a gateway of escape for this traitor.


    Images of Sevren, Caera, and Seris, each of their minds scoured away at Agrona¡¯s feet, flashed into my mind again as my Acquire Phase retreated, my exhaustion making itself known once more. I stumbled, a growl building in the back of my throat as I tasted copper in my mouth.


    ¡°You can¡¯t falter now!¡± Aurora yelled across my mind as I nearly toppled over. ¡°Do not let him escape! The portal is opening!¡±


    I groaned, grabbing a large shard of blood iron near Jordan¡¯s corpse. It dug a larger cut into my palm as I clenched it like a dagger, stumbling forward. Wolfrum was just about to enter the portal, his eyes staring fearfully back at me.


    I engaged my mana one more time, surging forward with the speed of a nascent asura. Wolfrum tumbled backward, sliding through the pane of purple just as I was about to reach him. His mismatched eyes radiated triumph as he moved through the tear of spatium.


    I saw my chance slipping away in slow motion, the world slowing down as he began to fall through the pane of purple.


    No, I thought, my eyes narrowing onto Wolfrum¡¯s hand. Where he kept his dimension ring. No. He won¡¯t escape me.


    I cocked my hand back, then threw the shard of blood-iron with a burst of telekinetic force.


    Blood sprayed. A muted scream. And then the portal snapped shut.


    I tumbled weakly across the stones, rolling to a stop as I hit the rock exactly where Wolfrum had been a moment before. He was gone, the tempus warp having successfully whisked him away to who-knew-where.


    I felt Aurora¡¯s comforting hand across my back as I groaned, my vision swimming as I pulled myself to my hands and knees.


    At my feet was a severed hand. Wolfrum¡¯s hand, still pumping blood from where I¡¯d severed it with a last-ditch effort. In its clutching grasp was the tempus warp, cracked from overuse.


    I grabbed it headily, tearing the dimension ring from the limp finger and allowing the tempus warp to clink to the ground. The macabre nature of my action was lost as I vaguely sifted through the contents.


    I felt my mouth go dry as each item revealed itself to me. Aurora¡¯s relic was in there, but so were dozens of papers that meticulously detailed many of Seris¡¯ operations. Perhaps her sheltering of Sevren and the bronze-metal brooch would¡¯ve been the largest ¡®offense¡¯ had this been presented to the Vritra, but I had no doubt that the contents of this ring would damn her to a cramped cell in the pits of Taegrin Caelum.


    I clutched the dimension ring as a greedy man hoards his coins, holding it close as I blinked with exhaustion. All around me, mages began to finally array themselves in combat formations, leaders barking orders and preparing for combat as they surrounded me.


    I ignored them all. That wasn¡¯t what mattered. Maybe Wolfrum got away¨Cand he would need to be caught¨Cbut I¡¯d deprived him of his evidence. Of his means. That¡­ That was enough for now.


    I swallowed, looking upward as the battlemages around me gradually went silent, fear radiating through their intent of an entirely different kind.


    Seris was deathly angry; that much hadn¡¯t changed. But as the hovering mage took in the devastation around me, Jordan Redwater¡¯s decimated corpse, and the severed hand at my feet, I saw her face dip more toward confusion.


    I gave her what I hoped was a winning smile as my body trembled. ¡°Hey, Seris,¡± I said weakly, holding up the dimension ring as I drank in the sight of her. ¡°I think¡­ think you¡¯d want this.¡±


    The Scythe set herself down nearby as I fell backward in exhaustion. She strode forward, the entire world seeming to hold its breath as she stared down at me, her face twisting with displeasure. ¡°What am I to make of this, Lord Daen?¡± she asked, addressing me formally.


    I felt a mark of sadness at that, before holding up the ring to her. She hesitantly lowered her fingers to mine, brushing them against the ring. Her onyx eyes flicked to the severed hand still clutched in my other grip. ¡°Wolfrum¨CXander¨Cwhatever,¡± I said tiredly, ¡°was gonna take that.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyes widened as she inspected the dimension ring, her face paling for a moment. I watched as the blood seemed to leave her body, her mouth working soundlessly as she no doubt reached the same conclusion I did.


    When she looked back down at me next, there was something strangely haunted there. An unasked question. She hadn¡¯t released my limp hand from hers. Instead, she was squeezing tighter and tighter.


    ¡°Did you search through this ring yourself, Toren?¡± she asked quietly, sounding uncertain.


    I fought to keep my eyes open, my lids threatening to close. ¡°I did.¡±


    Seris was quiet as she stood over my body. Then she slowly knelt, her dress absorbing the dust around us. She brushed a hand across my forehead, pushing my hair out of my eyes as she forced me to match her own. Her slim hand moved my head with gentle firmness, ensuring I couldn¡¯t look away. ¡°And what do you make of what was inside?¡±


    I exhaled lightly. Even without my knowledge of the future, the information in that dimension ring painted a picture of a woman who took many, many risks. Who directly defied the Vritra in covert, undercover ways, gradually working toward something.


    I allowed a smile to stretch over my face as Seris¡¯ hand clenched around mine. Her fingers twitched in tune with her brow, something between worry and exasperation threatening to break free. ¡°I told you before that what I did¡­ would help your cause,¡± I said with a breath as Seris¡¯ fingers snaked through mine in a strange, desperate draw. I blinked weakly, trying not to succumb to the intensity of the woman¡¯s biting intent as she knelt over my exhausted form. ¡°He doesn¡¯t get to win.¡±


    And then my mind left me as I slipped back into unconsciousness. I tried not to chuckle at the irony of it all as everything went black. In only a few days, this had happened twice?

 Chapter 211: Greyscale

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Grey


    ¡°We need to form some sort of response,¡± said a pudgy man with an intricate mustache, his fingers tapping in a rhythm on the council table. ¡°We have their ambassador hostage, but we can¡¯t push too far.¡±


    ¡°And how, exactly, do you think we should respond?¡± a thin man with heavily decorated epaulets said, his hawklike nose twitching as he stared at the first councilman. ¡°There isn¡¯t much we can do to Trayden, not with their trade embargos along the Mississippi. Any sort of retaliation can lead to conflict and lives lost, Councilman Breeze.¡±


    The aforementioned pudgy man¨Cone of the most powerful people in Etharia¨Csnorted in derision. ¡°We all want to avoid a war, Councilman Stint,¡± he said with distaste. ¡°But the conditions of our treaty and agreements were clear. This ambassador tried to abduct one of the participants in our King¡¯s Crown Tournament¨Cand if we let that slide for fear of retaliation, then we¡¯re nothing but cowards who dig our heads into the sand.¡±


    The heated discussion continued on as the Council of Etharia flailed back and forth, each member trying to come up with a response to Trayden¡¯s breach of our alliance. Yet the words flowed in one ear and out the other as I watched, a numb sort of emptiness clutching at my gut as I watched the men squabble.


    It hadn¡¯t even been a week since I¡¯d ¡°claimed¡± my victory at the King¡¯s Crown Tournament. My ascension to King¨Cmy one goal for the past several years¨Chad been accomplished. Here I stood, ready to take action. I had the power I¡¯d always strived for. The position, the resources, the prestige¡­


    And when I looked down at my trembling hands, all I could see was red. Cecilia¡¯s blood¨Cthe blood of one of my closest friends¨Ccouldn¡¯t seem to wash away. The image of her head lolled in a sickening matter within my mind on an infinite loop whenever I closed my eyes, Nico¡¯s distraught face as I ran his fiance through the chest burned into my retinas. I hadn¡¯t slept in several days, because whenever I allowed myself to dream, I dreamt of the mistakes I¡¯d made. The future I¡¯d ruined.


    Whenever I closed my eyes, I imagined myself taking Nico¡¯s offer¨Cfrom before my final match with Cecilia in the tournament. Before she¡¯d committed suicide using my own sword. I imagined myself taking his hand¨Cdismissing Lady Vera and helping him with his plan. What would have changed if I did so?


    The entire reason I¡¯d sought kingship was so I could wreak vengeance on those who had caused Headmaster Wilbeck¡¯s death. But I¡¯d slain one of my closest friends. How¡­ How did I continue? What did I do¨C


    ¡°King Grey,¡± a voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, ¡°what exactly can you tell us about the ambassador, boy? You were her apprentice, after all. She used you to infiltrate the King¡¯s Crown Tournament to seek the Legacy. You should enlighten us on what could make her crack.¡±


    I blinked rapidly, feeling the attention of all the Council on me as Councilman Stint singled me out. Their eyes flashed in an almost malevolent manner, wicked gleams like candlelight flaring all around.


    I swallowed, feeling small. My very first session as a member of the Council proceeded far differently from what I expected. I didn¡¯t want to be here. I wanted¡­ What did I want? The Councilmembers looked at me like hyenas that had found waiting prey.


    ¡°I don¡¯t¨C¡± I started, feeling wrongfooted.


    ¡°Bah, don¡¯t ask the boy such questions,¡± another man interrupted with a sneer. ¡°He¡¯s barely been functional after he won the tournament¨Cwhich we still know was by a fluke. He shouldn¡¯t be here in the first place.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth, feeling anger rise at the dismissive nature of the words. I restrained the urge to slam my fist into the table.


    ¡°If my words aren¡¯t needed,¡± I said, feeling my hands clench at my side, ¡°then I don¡¯t see a reason to stay in attendance.¡±


    I pushed off from the table, turning on my heel as I felt the sneers of the Council digging into my back. They all came from families who¡¯d held generational power within Etharia, some even claiming lineages back to the Gilded Age of Technology. Before the world¡¯s population was eradicated by war and combat.


    I stalked out of the Council chamber, feeling like a child that had been scolded. The position of King wasn¡¯t nearly as influential as I¡¯d initially been told. I was more a glorified gladiator, sent to beat every other kingdom¡¯s gladiator into the dirt. Perhaps I was afforded a position on the Council with all the rest, but who would ever treat me like a true voice to be heard and respected when my only saving grace was hitting things?


    I didn¡¯t know how far I walked, but I eventually couldn¡¯t move my legs anymore. I stumbled to the side, sliding down an intricately painted wall. I buried my head in my hands, resisting the urge to weep.


    Absently, I found myself wondering where Nico was. During my training with Lady Vera, I¡¯d never had the time to interact with my best friend. But no¨Cthat wasn¡¯t it, was it? I¡¯d been pushing him and Cecilia away. There were plenty of times I¡¯d had the chance to leave Vera¡¯s compound and interact with my friends at the military academy.


    But I¡¯d been afraid to pull them further into my revenge. Into the pit my drive had become.


    I¡¯d given it all up. Everything that still mattered to me, I¡¯d sacrificed so I could be laughed out of a room. I¡¯d deluded myself that being a King would let me avenge Headmaster Wilbeck, but I would never be able to do anything.


    My shoulders shook. Where are you, Nico? I thought, feeling tears gather at the corners of my vision as I clawed at my scalp. Are you alive? Or have I doomed you, too?


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the people of Etharia should know their King is curled up against a wall,¡± an unfamiliar voice said from above me. ¡°You need to stand tall, Grey. Then they will start to respect you.¡±


    I raised my head from my knees, looking up at the person addressing me. They wore the traditional garb of Etharia¡¯s Council¨Ca white military uniform streaked through with royal purple along the trim, with golden epaulets and a gray pin on the brooch bearing our country¡¯s flag.


    I recognized the man: Marlorn, one of the oldest members of the Council. The man¡¯s silver hair was long, reaching to his chest in a clean manner. His mustache and beard were similarly long, giving him the wizened appearance of some sort of martial sage.


    I felt suddenly embarrassed, my humiliation made twofold by the fact that I¡¯d been discovered pouting against a wall. ¡°Apologies,¡± I said hastily, a waver barely audible in my voice as I pulled myself to my feet. ¡°I am not¡­ I will be better, Councilman.¡±


    Marlorn scrutinized me sharply. ¡°They disrespect you because they think they can, King Grey,¡± the wizened councilor said. ¡°Appearances are paramount in politics.¡± He paused. ¡°Though I doubt many of those old bats would be nearly as sound of mind if they had slain their own childhood friend in single combat, and then had their entire view of the world upended not a minute later.¡±


    I swallowed nervously, averting my eyes. It wasn¡¯t uncommon knowledge that Cecilia and I were childhood friends. The spectators at the King¡¯s Crown Tournament had used it to drive a sort of destined rivalry narrative that they sold to the masses on live television. And while Lady Vera¨Cthe ambassador from Trayden, and the woman who had taught me nearly everything I needed to know to be a contender for king¨Chad been captured quickly after her attempted sabotage, doubts about my own loyalty were strong.


    Truthfully, I didn¡¯t know what to say as I watched Marlorn. He seemed to be gauging me, each of his narrowed eyes inspecting me with emotion I couldn¡¯t discern. ¡°Walk with me, King Grey,¡± he said after a moment, turning on his heel.


    He began to stride away, leaving me in the yawning hallway. In that instant, I hesitated. I couldn¡¯t afford to trust this councilman, could I? I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d trusted Vera. And look where that had taken me.


    Foolish boy, I chastised myself as I hurried after Marlorn. As if just walking with someone will condemn you.


    ¡°Do you know why they¡¯re so hesitant to take any sort of action in the wake of Trayden¡¯s betrayal, King Grey?¡± Marlorn asked, walking at a leisurely pace. He didn¡¯t turn back to look at me.


    I furrowed my brow. ¡°Trayden sent an official edict denying any sort of involvement with Lady Vera,¡± I said automatically. ¡°That makes it difficult to try and pin anything concrete, right?¡±


    Marlorn huffed. ¡°We all know those were empty words, King Grey. It¡¯s not Trayden¡¯s initial response to the attempted sabotage that haunts them. It¡¯s what they might do after our retaliation.¡±


    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± I said, feeling slightly frustrated. ¡°They attacked first! And now we refuse to strike back because we¡¯re, what? Afraid?¡± I said, surprising myself with my disgust.


    Marlorn turned back to me for just an instant, inspecting me with a deeply knowing look. ¡°You¡¯re young and brash, King Grey,¡± he chided. ¡°You know why Paragon Duels are supported as an institution, do you not? The loss of life and decline in population and available resources in the wake of the end of the Gilded Age made wars too costly to conduct. Conflict¨Ceven with spears and swords¨Cbecame a matter of utter extinction.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I replied. ¡°And to resolve disputes, Paragon Duels were implemented. A representative from each country¨Ca King¨Cwas selected to settle disputes with their steel and blood, instead of the blood and steel of our populace.¡±


    ¡°The actions taken by Trayden through their ambassador were tantamount to an act of war on their own,¡± Marlorn said in response. ¡°That proves that Trayden is willing to cross lines in response to whatever we come up with. But how many lines?¡±


    The aged councilor shook his head. ¡°Regardless, you will either learn to understand these intricacies as King, or you will be devoured like a minnow amongst sharks in the bloodied sea of politics.¡±


    I felt my shoulders slump as I stared at the floor, feeling a wave of despair roil through me again. How naive I was, to think I could ever avenge Headmaster Wilbeck? Nobody wanted to take any steps forward. And if I wanted to do anything, I needed to prevent my own head from being chopped off first.


    Marlorn stopped abruptly, causing me to nearly run into him. I blinked, looking up in surprise.


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± the man said succinctly, gesturing a hand.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, observing the rooms in front of me. In front of one of the doors, I read the scrawled letters.


    Holding Cells.


    ¡°Vera Warbridge is held in the cells just ahead,¡± Marlorn said simply. ¡°We haven¡¯t been able to get much out of her, but a few of the Councilmembers¨Cmyself included¨Cthink that you might have more of an effect.¡±


    I felt my blood run cold as my eyes widened. ¡°I didn¡¯t agree to follow you for this,¡± I said sharply. ¡°I want nothing to do with that woman. Not anymore; not after what she did.¡±


    Marlorn shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself, King Grey. But I know she has answers to questions of your own¨Cquestions not entirely unrelated to the ones we want answered. After all, it was one of her lackeys that ordered the murder of one Olivia Wilbeck.¡±


    I focused on the counselor with such intensity that I was certain he might go up in smoke just from my gaze. His lips creaked into a smile just a bit at the edges, like a rusty hinge swinging open. ¡°You don¡¯t know when you¡¯ll get another chance.¡±


    ¡ª


    I stared at the door to Lady Vera¡¯s cell, feeling a strange sort of numbness suffusing my limbs. The letters over the door seemed to swim and distort as my own chaotic mind struggled to come to some sort of decision.


    Marlorn had made a perfect point. I wasn¡¯t a King; I was a Pawn. Someone to be moved and shifted across the board as the councilors saw fit. That was why I was here right now, wasn¡¯t it?


    But also¡­ Also, I needed answers. Lady Vera knew more about Headmaster Wilbeck¡¯s death than any other. But also¡­


    She¡¯d adopted me, becoming my legal guardian. I¡¯d worn the crest of House Warbridge with pride, thinking myself a part of her family. I had to face her. Face what she¡¯d done.


    I raised a limp hand, swallowing as I pushed open the door.


    When Lady Vera first took me under her wing, one of the first things that struck me was the lavish nature of her lifestyle. As an orphan who¡¯d grown up on the streets, things that she treated as simple¨Clike a dedicated yard and even a pond with live fish¨Cwere alien and novel. Marks of high society; a sweet honey I¡¯d never tasted on my palette before.


    The insides of her cell could not have been more different from that. It was bright¨Cnearly unbearably so. High-power LED lights blared white anger onto the bleached white walls. White stone, white metal, white chains¡­ White was everywhere.


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    I squinted my eyes, struggling to focus them as the light hit me.


    ¡°You know, if you wanted to try again, you¡¯d only need to ask,¡± a painfully familiar voice muttered, sounding strained. ¡°Come on, I can¨C¡±


    I locked eyes with Lady Vera from where she was chained to the white walls. Her red hair was mussed and greasy, tatters and tears across her clothes that revealed signs of intentional torture. Yet from her eyes, it was easy to tell she hadn¡¯t broken yet.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, blinking in what seemed like genuine surprise.


    I opened my mouth to speak, took a shaky breath, then closed it again. What¡­ What did I say?


    ¡°So, kid,¡± Vera said with a half-smile that revealed a few missing teeth, her jovial tone jarring painful memories from the depths of my soul, ¡°I¡¯m guessing those councilors sent you in to try and interrogate me, hmm?¡±


    ¡°They did,¡± I admitted weakly, struggling to reconcile the image of my mentor with this tattered scarecrow.


    Vera scoffed. ¡°Pathetic, really. They should¡¯ve thought of something with more of a chance to work.¡± She squinted, her eyes flicking to a little bit of tech in my ear. ¡°And they¡¯ve got an earpiece in your ear, too. Please. Take that out, kid.¡±


    On instinct, I raised my hand to my ear, just about to take the earpiece out. Then I paused, noticing Vera¡¯s easy smile. I grit my teeth, forcing my hand down from where it had almost obeyed her command.


    The red-haired Warbridge chuckled. ¡°See, that¡¯s the mistake they made. They assumed I might care for you or something. But I trained you¨Clike a dog. You still move to answer my call, don¡¯t you?¡±


    And suddenly, I felt anger suffuse my pain. Like a syringe of liquid fire injected directly into my veins, I felt it building, pushing towards a crescendo.


    ¡°This is more than she¡¯s ever spoken at once,¡± a voice¨CMarlorn¡¯s¨Csaid through the earpiece, steady and calm. ¡°Ask her what you were told, King Grey. She¡¯s trying to deflect her true thoughts. She¡¯s trying to assert control in negotiation. Do not let it work.¡±


    Those words settled inside my skull. I noticed them. Understood the logic within. But even though I knew


    what I needed to ask, knew what I had come here to say, I found something else leaving my mouth instead.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I ever was to you?¡± I found myself asking, my voice raw and painful. ¡°You trained me day in and day out. Fed me, raised me to be a King. You¡­ You believed that I could do it, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Vera blinked, her eyes flashing behind her greasy red bangs. Then she laughed. ¡°Kid, you¡¯re still a naive fool!¡± she said, chortling as if I¡¯d just said the funniest joke she¡¯d ever heard. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you killed the Legacy with your pathetic skills. It should¡¯ve been impossible. But you were marked to be our pawn from the moment I burned down that orphanage and shot that headmaster whore.¡±


    It took a minute for her sentence to register. I knew what each word meant individually, but when they came together, they didn¡¯t make any sense. My legs trembled as the fury in my veins was suddenly suffused with ice colder than any winter. My mouth shook as I tried and tried and tried to make sense of this.


    Vera had¡­ to Wilbeck¡­ but it couldn¡¯t be.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, rejecting her words. ¡°No, you¡¯re lying. You¡¯re¡­ You¡¯re just trying to hurt me. To get inside my head,¡± I accused. My vision swam, the words barked through my earpiece indistinct and murky. A deep ache pounded inside my head, each thundering pulse trying to splinter my skull. The white of the room seemed to become an inverted black hole, sucking all into its blankness.


    Lady Vera watched me with a tilt to her head. ¡°That much is obvious, dog,¡± she said, that tone jovial and uncaring. ¡°But can you tell for sure? Are you absolutely certain? Maybe I¡¯m lying to you. Or maybe I¡¯m telling the truth? It would make sense if I¡¯d done it though. You¡¯re a reasonably smart kid when you want to be¨Cand I know you met my associate with the mismatched eyes.¡±


    I stumbled to the side, falling to my knees as nausea churned in my stomach. Tears blurred my vision as it all built and built and built. Cecilia¡¯s blood on my hands; the strangely relieved look in her fading eyes. The horrified expression of Nico in the stands. My¡­ My other mother, trying to infiltrate to steal away my childhood friend, but screaming in rage as I bled her instead.


    And Olivia Wilbeck¨Cmy mother before Vera¨Claying limp, a gunshot wound in her chest. The orphanage burning behind her; the perpetrator never found.


    The images came in flashes. One after the other after the other. The sorrow and anger and confusion swelled within me as I vomited onto the cold stone tiles, bile tainting my mouth. It was¡­ too much. Far too much to feel it all. What did I¡­ What did I do? How¨C


    ¡°And it would¡¯ve been an ironic twist, hmm? To give a boy¨Cwho so desperately needed a mother¨Cthe woman who¡¯d slain his first one,¡± Vera said, her tone quietly mocking.


    Something inside of me cracked. I wasn¡¯t sure what, at first. Maybe it was my mind. Maybe it was my heart. But there was a hole in some part of me that yawned open at Vera Warbridge¡¯s words. And then that void expanded, swallowing all like a ravenous beast.


    My heartbeat¨Cwhich had been thunderous and fast enough to charge an engine¨Cbegan to slow as the void consumed all. My anger went first, taken and folded into oblivion as the raging fire was met with something greater than it. Fury wasn¡¯t logical. It wasn¡¯t borne of reason. Why should I keep it, then? Such emotion blunted an edge more than it ever sharpened it.


    I discarded it. It wasn¡¯t necessary. I cut the emotion away with the sword of my mind, feeding it to the yawning pit of gray in my mind. Next was the sorrow. The wrenching agony of Cecilia bleeding over my blade, the realization I¡¯d slain my childhood friend causing me more pain than any wound a sword had ever given. Nico¡¯s haunted eyes were fed to the ravenous pit next, taking my guilt with them.


    I didn¡¯t need guilt. Sadness hindered me. It made it hard to focus. Made me sloppy. A sword was dulled by sorrow. Guilt made one hesitate to swing, leaving an opening for the opponent. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And finally¡­ finally, happiness and joy edged near that void. And for the first time, I hesitated.


    Memories of the old days¨Cof days with Olivia Wilbeck as she ran the orphanage, caring for those with nothing but her inborn altruism¨Cflashed before my mind. I remembered scavenging with Nico, the slums our very own kingdom as we slowly learned. Cecilia¡¯s introduction to our group, the brown-haired girl slowly growing to fit our squad.


    I remembered all the kids in the orphanage. Each and every one, smiling at me as we played at being Kings. How Wilbeck would watch over us all with a chuckle, then scold us whenever we got hurt.


    They shined so gold, so bright. And I found myself at a crossroads. The void waited. It wasn¡¯t hungry, but it would still swallow all I fed to it.


    And then I remembered the scent of smoke as it ravaged my nose, the crimson coating Wilbeck¡¯s dead body. How everyone forgot her afterward, moving on and leaving her behind.


    ¡°A weakness,¡± I said quietly, my voice even and dead. Once, I might have winced from the pain in my throat. ¡°I can have none.¡±


    I fed the golden light to the void, allowing it to finally subsume it all. As it left, I became calm. The apathy¡­ It was what I needed, after all. If I wanted to achieve my goals, I needed to be a weapon. It was what was necessary.


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet. They didn¡¯t tremble anymore. Why would they? I wasn¡¯t flesh. I was steel. A sword.


    Vera was chuckling to herself as she watched me rise. ¡°Wow, that was quite the display, ey kid? Do you think¨C¡±


    ¡°You mistake yourself,¡± I said simply, walking forward at a slow pace. ¡°We aren¡¯t here to talk about me, Lady Warbridge.¡±


    Why hadn¡¯t I been able to see it before? At first, I¡¯d thought this room an expanse of endless white. A painfully blank canvas that glared from how empty it was.


    But really, it was all gray.


    Lady Vera opened her mouth, no doubt about to say something else, but then she saw my eyes. Her mouth clacked shut. ¡°What the hell?¡± she said, her voice trembling for a moment.


    ¡°Grey, you are to leave the premises this instant!¡± Marlorn¡¯s voice said over the earpiece. ¡°You are not to interact with¨C¡±


    Calmly, I raised my hand to my ear, removing the earpiece. I gently put it into my pocket.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never tortured anyone before,¡± I said calmly, my eyes never blinking as they stared into Vera¡¯s. ¡°But I killed Cecilia; ran my sword through her chest. It shouldn¡¯t be too difficult to find out what will and will not leave you breathing, Warbridge.¡±


    ¡°Kid,¡± Vera said, starting to sound more panicked. ¡°Kid, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on in your head. But you won¡¯t get anything from¨C¡±


    I raised a gentle finger to Vera¡¯s lips, silencing them. ¡±I¡¯m thinking, Vera,¡± I said. ¡°You told me once that everyone should give themselves time for a deep breath. Give me a moment, then we¡¯ll talk once more. I need to gather myself just a bit more.¡±


    As she was absorbed by my eyes, Vera Warbridge trembled, but remained silent.


    She didn¡¯t scream at first. After all, she¡¯d taught me methods to avoid yelling out in pain in the midst of combat. But those could only work for so long.


    Eventually, Vera begged for mercy.


    Arthur Leywin


    I surged forward in bed, gasping and clutching my chest with eyes blown wide. Sweat beaded across my skin, soaking every inch of my body. I heaved gulps of air, my hand clutching my heart as I gradually returned to consciousness.


    It was a dream, I thought rabidly. A memory, nothing more. You can still feel. You are still human.


    I swallowed heavily, taking a moment to breathe. I allowed myself to rest in silence for a few minutes, just centering myself.


    That last memory¡­ It was particularly bad. Maybe the worst. The vivid recollection of how I¡¯d thrown everything that made me human into the gaping pit made me shudder.


    I¡¯m not Grey anymore, I thought. He¡¯s gone. He¡¯ll never return.


    I looked around the room I was in, my heartbeat finally settling down as I regained a sense of calm. I appeared to be in some sort of medical ward, the walls sterile and the scent of chemicals invading my nose.


    I furrowed my brow. My body felt strange, like¨C


    ¡°Papa!¡± Sylvie¡¯s voice radiated across my mind. ¡°Papa, you¡¯re awake!¡±


    Blinked as I saw Sylvie¡¯s little fox form bound up onto my bed. She radiated joy as she barrelled into me, hugging me with her little paws.


    ¡°H-Hey, Sylv,¡± I said, patting her on her head as she nuzzled into my chest. ¡°It appears your foxy nature still hasn¡¯t become any more draconic,¡± I quipped, trying to further wash away the agony of Grey.


    Sylv looked up at me, her small brows furrowing in concern. ¡°Arthur, what exactly do you remember last?¡± she asked over our bond, her tone surprisingly serious.


    I blinked, then furrowed my brows, realizing the discrepancy. ¡°I remember¡­ losing to Spellsong,¡± I admitted with gritted teeth. I remembered his finger, pointed at my skull as fire and sound mana built along the tip. I¡¯d seen the indecision in his eyes, but I¡¯d fallen unconscious immediately after.


    Except I thought I did remember something happening after. A hazy mist of something blanketing my thoughts, the sensation far, far too much like Grey. And then three flames in the darkness, each calling to me like the fire of a hearth. One was pinkish-purple, slashed through with streaks of orange, and the others were deep reds. But while the first flame was brilliant and dazzling, it was the others that drew my attention. Somehow, deep in my soul, I could follow them, like a man dying of thirst following the sound of a stream.


    ¡°And after that, just¡­ darkness,¡± I said slowly. I thought I remembered something. Scattered words¡­


    Because your anchors are here, Arthur.


    Sylvie trembled slightly, and for the first time, I felt that something was different about our bond. She felt not necessarily weaker, but maybe less full? It was hard to describe the difference I could feel, but I was immediately struck by a bolt of fear.


    ¡°Sylvie, what happened to me? What happened to you? And where are we right now?¡± I asked hastily, raising my hand as I tried to move. The blankets over my body were thick and smothering as I tried to pull myself from them.


    And then I saw my palm. The acclorite that Wren Kain IV had embedded into my hand¨Cwhich had accompanied me for years¨Cwas gone. Vanished, leaving only a scar.


    ¡°You fell deeper into Realmheart than you ever have before,¡± Sylvie said quietly, almost mournfully. ¡°But you weren¡¯t ready for it. Your body wasn¡¯t ready for it. And¡­ And it started to kill you. But even as that power claimed your body, it spurred the manifestation of the rock in your hand. The weapon that was developing.¡±


    I furrowed my brow, adjusting in my bed. I was about to ask what weapon, but then my words cut off.


    Because I knew. On some instinctual, fundamental level, I knew what I had been granted. And once I¡¯d connected the two, I understood what had happened to me.


    I held out a hand, calling to something deep within myself. With barely a flash of energy, Dawn¡¯s Ballad settled into my palm, reflecting the light in the small hospital ward. I called to it in a way I just barely understood, summoning the familiar weapon to my side.


    Except Dawn¡¯s Ballad had changed. Where before, the translucent blade had been a startling teal that seemed to be a reflection of my cerulean eyes, now it was the color of deepest amethyst. I never thought I¡¯d seen a shade of purple so true, so pure. I¡¯d never seen a weapon to compare to the asuran-forged edge of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, but as I stared at the reforged sword in my hand, I knew its quality¨Cits essence¨Cto be far, far beyond what it had been before.


    And I knew the other change, waiting just beneath the surface of my skin. The weapon that had manifested from the acclorite¡­ it hadn¡¯t truly become something new. No, it had spread across my muscles and bones and veins, grasping them and becoming one with it.


    I was the manifested weapon. My body was a blade, my mind the hilt.


    I swallowed, that realization inching too close to the memory at the edges of my mind. Where I¡¯d resolved myself to be simply a sword, fit to be pointed at those I needed slain.


    I needed to focus on something else. To find a different train of thought. I could process this later, when I had more time to understand everything.


    I released Dawn¡¯s Ballad, the violet blade shimmering away into purple mist, before that too phased away. I knew I could call to it once more if when I next needed it. After all, it was¡­ a part of me.


    ¡°Sylv,¡± I said in an uncertain voice, the changes to my body unsettling me deeply, ¡°what happened after? I remember three fires¨Ceach calling to me. Wrenching me from the darkness. And you said that I was dying because of this power of mine. But I¡¯m alive; safe. I need to know what happened with Spellsong. I need to know why you feel diminished.¡±


    Sylvie backed away, settling herself closer to my knees as she stared up at me. Her topaz eyes sparkled like gemstones as they cemented with resolve. She stood resolute in her little fox form, and though she did not look like a dragon at that moment, she carried the grace of the asura in how she held her head and met my gaze.


    ¡°Arthur, there is no easy way to explain what happened,¡± she said solemnly. ¡°But to start¨C¡±


    The door to my medical room burst open, cutting Sylvie¡¯s words off. I turned to see who had so abruptly barged into my room, frowning slightly as I instinctively held my hand out, ready to summon Dawn¡¯s Ballad once more.


    I locked eyes with Tess, the elven princess¡¯s emerald pupils piercing my own.

 Chapter 212: Lives

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Relief like a hot balm settled across my body as I saw my childhood friend, a tension I didn¡¯t even know I¡¯d been carrying washing away in a slow trickle.


    Tess looked far, far better than the last time I¡¯d seen her. Her gunmetal gray hair was damp as it clung to her shoulders, clearly just having been washed. No longer was her face covered in blood and bruises. Instead, milky pale skin stood out, the only bit of red remaining the flush on her cheeks from exertion.


    As I saw Tessia, I remembered the words Elder Rinia had told me. That Spellsong would be targeting the princess of Elenoir in an upcoming attack, and that only I could stop it. The seer had informed me that I couldn¡¯t tell anyone about this, lest I risk upsetting the delicate future she¡¯d foreseen.


    And so I¡¯d rushed to the place she had indicated, throwing caution to the wind. The last time I¡¯d seen Tess, she¡¯d been battered and defeated alongside her teammates as Toren Daen loomed over her.


    But that image was nowhere to be seen now.


    Tess lingered at the doorway as she met my eyes, hesitating for a reason I couldn¡¯t understand. Her turquoise eyes simmered with a bundle of emotions I didn¡¯t fully comprehend as she looked at me.


    ¡°What?¡± I eventually asked, a bit of a smile crossing my face. ¡°Am I that shocking to look at? I didn¡¯t think anything happened to my head during that fight, but if you¡¯re looking at me like that¡­¡±


    I jokingly patted my head, miming looking for scars or burns of some sort. The act seemed to break Tess from her nervous stare, and she rushed into the room as if carried by the wind itself.


    The breath was pressed from my lungs as Tess enveloped me in a crushing hug. ¡°Shut up, idiot,¡± she said, burying her face into my shoulder. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t even be talking right now, much less making stupid jokes that aren¡¯t even funny.¡±


    I returned Tess¡¯ hug the best I could, her smaller frame easily wrapped by my arms. ¡°I thought it was pretty funny,¡± I wheezed as her grip tightened. ¡°And if you keep squeezing me like that, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever be able to talk again,¡± I eked out, tapping my childhood friend on the back in a sign of submission.


    Tess sniffled as she released me, pulling away slightly and frowning at me as emotion writ itself over her face. ¡±You can¡¯t have been awake for even an hour and you¡¯re already like this again? Do you know how worried we all were about you?¡± she asked, her hand squeezing my shoulder. I got the distinct impression Tess wanted to hug me again, but there was a worried cast to her expression that stopped her.


    ¡°Tessia has been checking on you constantly,¡± Sylvie supplied helpfully from where she was curled on the edge of the bed. ¡°We didn¡¯t know when you¡¯d wake up, or what the effects on you would be. She took charge of caring for you, Arthur.¡±


    A bit of color flushed Tess¡¯ face as her eyes darted nervously to Sylvie. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ I was the one who was there, and we¡¯ve known each other since forever. And we both know that he would¡¯ve gone and run off to do something stupid if I wasn¡¯t here to curb his poor tendencies when he woke up.¡±


    Sylvie settled her head between her paws, her topaz eyes glimmering slightly in quiet amusement. ¡°That much is true,¡± she agreed. ¡°He does have a habit of doing stupid things when you aren¡¯t around, doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    Tessia nodded in agreement, a surprisingly serious look on her pristine face.


    I looked between my bond and the elven princess, my brow creasing as I crossed my arms. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s exactly fair that I¡¯ve just woken up and you¡¯re both teaming up on me,¡± I lamented. ¡°I¡¯m a wounded patient. Shouldn¡¯t I be given some¨Cow!¡±


    Tessia socked me in the arm¨Chard. ¡°You¡¯re only here because you have a horrible tendency to throw yourself at impossible situations and get yourself hurt all the time. And this time, the emitters couldn¡¯t even heal you.¡±


    I rubbed at my arm, wincing slightly. Same old Tessia, I thought, resorting to violence.


    But my childhood friend¡¯s words called to mind why I was here in the first place. I remembered Toren Daen standing over Tessia, so far away. I¡¯d engaged the First Phase of my Beast Will, stopping time and intervening in whatever he¡¯d been trying to do.


    ¡°Tess,¡± I said slowly, feeling a bit of my worry return, ¡°when I last saw you, it was just after Spellsong was trying to perform that magic of his on you. I thought I stopped it, but are you certain you¡¯re okay?¡± I asked seriously.


    Tess blinked, then her brows furrowed in confusion. She shared a look with Sylvie.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t remember anything after he engaged that form of his,¡± Sylvie informed my childhood friend.


    ¡°Tess¨C¡± I started, needing an answer to my earlier question.


    ¡°Are you hungry, Art?¡± she said instead.


    ¡°I mean¨C¡±


    ¡°Arthur,¡± Tessia asked in a surprisingly soft, yet simultaneously demanding tone, ¡°are you hungry?¡±


    I cut off as Tess looked at me, something profoundly sad in the depths of her eyes that made me hesitate.


    Maybe I can wait for her answer, I thought, swallowing as I drank in the emerald depths of my childhood friend¡¯s gaze.


    And as I gave it a bit of thought, I realized that I was hungry. My stomach clenched and twisted as I finally paid it attention, the pangs rising up through my body. Belatedly, I realized I must not have eaten since my battle. ¡°I am,¡± I admitted weakly. ¡°Famished, actually.¡±


    Then Tess did something I hadn¡¯t expected. She sat down on my bed, then swung her legs up so that she was sitting directly by my side. My eyebrows rose a little as she struggled to fit.


    ¡°Move over a bit, idiot,¡± Tess said stubbornly, her long, pointed ears colored a deep red as they drooped slightly. ¡°You¡¯re in the middle of the bed. There¡¯s no room.¡±


    I coughed, feeling strangely amused as I shifted under my covers so I was closer to the left side of the bed. My body, surprisingly, didn¡¯t even ache as I did so.


    Tess used that opportunity to position herself more comfortably, huffing in a distinctly Tessia-like way. ¡°You need to be more considerate of me, Art,¡± she said, a faux loftiness in her tone. ¡°Most people move before I have to ask them. It¡¯s one of the perks of being a princess, you know,¡± she said, bumping my shoulder with hers playfully.


    I huffed. ¡°Well, next time you decide to so greedily hoard the space that is rightfully mine,¡± I quipped, ¡°then I suppose I¡¯ll have to surrender it to the conquering Princess of Elenoir, won¡¯t I?¡±


    Tess chuckled lightly, bringing a slender hand to her lips. That laugh served to banish the last bits of darkness clinging to my mind in the wake of my dream of Grey, an emotion I¡¯d rarely felt swelling in my chest.


    Happiness.


    The laughter of my childhood friend brought a smile to my face, the sheer light


    of it scouring away the solemn thoughts in my mind. It was soft and subtle, like the rustle of leaves in a breeze. Yet I thought I had never heard anything so sweet.


    It reminded me of the simpler days long ago, of growing up in the Elshire forest under the care of the elven royal family. Of galavanting across the mist-shrouded forest with my friend in tow, living out childhood and innocence I¡¯d thought permanently gone in my previous life.


    Tess lowered her hand, looking at me once more. I saw a blush rising in her cheeks, and absently, I felt my own face start to burn as her jade eyes held my own azure ones. I turned away, coughing into my fist as I tried to settle the heightened pace of my heart, unable to maintain eye contact. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Tess said, bumping her shoulder against mine, ¡°you said you were hungry. And I know it¡¯s not much, but I have a bit of leftovers from my last meal,¡± she said, flourishing her hand and withdrawing something from her dimension ring.


    Immediately, the earthy scent of herbs and spices brushed against my nose, interlaced with a bit of honeyed sweetness. I turned back to my childhood friend, noting the items she held in her hand.


    It was an old elven treat¨Cone I recognized from many years past. A specific kind of crisp, sugary leaf native to the Elshire Forest enveloped a filling of cream, honey, and spiced nuts in a traditional snack.


    Tessia offered one to me, which I took gratefully. I bit into the snack, the sweet center enveloping my taste buds. I nearly groaned in pleasure as I devoured the treat, flashes of Tess and I stealing more than a few plates of these from the Eralith kitchens and running desperately away from the weary cooks flashing in my mind.


    Before I knew it¨Cand far, far too soon¨CI swallowed the last bite. I paused, feeling a swell of grief as I stared at my empty hands.


    Quadra-elemental mage with two deviant elements, a Dragon¡¯s Will, whatever the hell Dawn¡¯s Ballad became, and two lives, I thought mournfully as I stared at the crumbs on my fingers, and for all your power, you can¡¯t summon another leafcrisp.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t answer your question earlier,¡± Tess said all of a sudden, ¡°on whether I¡¯m doing okay or not.¡±


    I turned, feeling my mood shift at the inflection in her tone. ¡°You¡¯re okay, right, Tess?¡± I said, more than a little worried.


    Tess had pulled in her legs as she sat on the bed beside me, wrapping her arms around her knees as she rested her cheek on her kneecaps. Her gunmetal silver hair covered most of her face, and only her eyes glimmered like green gemstones from where she stared at me sideways.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Art,¡± Tess said. ¡°More than fine, actually. When you found Spellsong, he wasn¡¯t infecting me. He was¡­ cleansing my core, my Beast Will, of corruption. He was helping me.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s words were not what I was expecting. I shifted, trying to make sense of her words. ¡°What exactly are you saying?¡± I asked, utterly bewildered. ¡°I mean¡­ I heard you scream.¡±


    And Rinia¡¯s words that Tess was in danger reverberated through my mind. It didn¡¯t make sense.


    Tess took a minute to respond. ¡°After your fight with Spellsong¨Che called himself Norgan, but I suppose that¡¯s not his real name¨Che explained to us what he¡¯d been doing to me. Apparently, my Beast Will was tainted in a way that allowed me to be tracked. To be used. That black substance was taken from my core, not primed to be injected.¡±


    Tessia¡¯s words sent a cold shiver along my spine. I¡¯d given her the beast core that held her Elderwood Guardian Will. The Elderwood Guardian had been strange, sure, but I hadn¡¯t detected anything wrong with it when giving it to her. And usually, the cores of corrupted beasts would crumble away to dust.


    ¡°Tess, are you absolutely sure?¡± I asked seriously, laying a heavy hand on her shoulder as my throat constricted.


    Tess nodded slowly, making the guilt in my chest twist deeply. ¡°I can feel the difference,¡± she said softly. ¡°In my magic; in my Will. It¡¯s not so ravenous now. I don¡¯t know what changes will come from this or what it means for my powers, but it feels as if a weight has been lifted from my soul.¡±


    My shoulders slumped as her words registered with me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tess,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I didn¡¯t think¡­ If I had known¨C¡±


    Tess shook her head, her silver tresses swaying. ¡°It¡¯s fine, dummy,¡± she said softly. ¡°I¡¯m safe now. And you are too, because of Spellsong. He saved us both, I suppose.¡± My childhood friend furrowed her brows. ¡°But he still left Darvus and Caria in a bad state.¡±


    My spinning thoughts centered on that one word. Right, Spellsong! I thought, feeling energy in my veins. ¡°What happened with Spellsong?¡± I said hastily, realizing I didn¡¯t even know the outcome of our fight. Apparently, I¡¯d engaged some sort of hidden power within Sylvia¡¯s Will, and Sylvie had told me that it had started to kill me. ¡°We fought, didn¡¯t we? And what do you mean I¡¯m safe because of him?¡±


    Belatedly, I started to realize the implications of Tessia¡¯s words. If Spellsong had been healing her of a malady we hadn¡¯t even known existed, that threw all our assumptions about him and Seris Vritra into even further disarray.


    ¡°Your fight was¡­ inconclusive,¡± Sylvie said, trudging forward on the bed. ¡°Because that power you used¨Cit practically killed you, Arthur. It tore apart your body on a cellular level because of the wash of power. Toren Daen managed to survive the onslaught, but at the end¡­¡±


    ¡°You fell,¡± Tess said, her voice somber. Her body tensed as memories flashed in her eyes. ¡°Fell from the sky.¡±


    I focused on Tess¡¯ words. ¡°You came back?¡± I said, feeling my brow furrow. ¡°I told you to run, Princess, and report to the Council. Why did you come back?¡±


    Tess scoffed, a wash of anger overcoming her features. ¡°That¡¯s what you heard of my entire sentence? That I was present, not that you nearly killed yourself?¡±


    I recoiled slightly at the venom in my childhood friend¡¯s tone. ¡°Tess, I¨C¡±


    ¡°And you wouldn¡¯t be alive if I hadn¡¯t returned, idiot,¡± she said, her voice turning a bit watery. ¡°With how Spellsong needed to heal you, you wouldn¡¯t have made it if not for my presence. So don¡¯t just jump to conclusions.¡±


    I blinked, Tess¡¯ tirade washing over me. I felt a surge of irritation¨Cbut that quickly shifted into guilt as I felt my bond¡¯s scathing emotions agreeing with the princess.


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    There are people in this world whose lives I value over my own, I remembered saying to Windsom. And Tess¡­ Tess was one of those people.


    I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable at this sore spot. ¡°You said that Spellsong healed me?¡± I finally croaked. ¡°Not you, Sylvie?¡±


    ¡°Toren Daen stepped forward to heal you after you fell,¡± Sylvie said, her voice serious. ¡°But his insight into aether¨Chis touch on that transcendental power¨Cis fundamentally different from my insight. He used it directly¨Cmanipulating the aether within him as if it belonged to him.¡±


    I focused on Sylvie, who seemed to curl inward on herself. We¡¯d discussed the intricacies of aether before¨Cthe energy that allowed the dragons of the Indrath Clan to reign supreme over all the other clans of Epheotus. We¡¯d long since realized that Toren Daen had some sort of aetheric power considering the energy in his heart.


    But the way Sylvie spoke¨Cher own confusion and bafflement radiating both in tone and in mental link¨Cit made me feel even more uncertain.


    ¡°But his arts had their own limitations. Where we dragons call on the aether in the world around us, he used his very lifeforce,¡± Sylvie said, pausing at the last moment. I felt as her emotions began to retreat from me, causing a spike of worry to surge within my mind. ¡°Except there wasn¡¯t enough to actually fuel your rejuvenation. He needed another source.¡±


    I blinked. Once. Twice. Then it clicked. The strange weakness I sensed over our bond¨Cas if the dragon I called my companion was somehow diminished. As if she¡¯d given away part of herself to something.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, reeling backward. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. You shouldn¡¯t have had to sacrifice for me. There had to be another way. One that didn¡¯t involve¡­ whatever this was!¡±


    Sylvie simply stared up at me, her white fox form resolute. ¡°There was no other way, Arthur,¡± she said dismissively. ¡°It was either let you die, or give up a bit of my lifespan. And you are my bond. My papa. I didn¡¯t hesitate.¡±


    My fists clenched by my sides as my breathing became a bit uneven. My bond had given away years of her life¨Cher future¨Cfor me. That was wrong. She shouldn¡¯t have to. Should never have to. I felt my mana swell as I gnashed my teeth. ¡°There is always another way. Something you could have¨C¡±


    ¡°Are you hearing yourself right now?¡± Tessia interrupted from my side, pulling herself back and glaring at me. ¡°What, do you think only you can sacrifice yourself for others, Art? That it¡¯s all on your shoulders to bear these burdens? Do you think we¡¯re all just children for you to protect?¡±


    I ignored the emotions of my bond, embracing the swell of irrational anger in my gut. ¡°There are people I value more than my life, Tess,¡± I said sharply. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what I do as long as you¡¯re safe.¡±


    My childhood friend scoffed, turning away from me. ¡°And why do you think you¡¯re alone in those thoughts? she snapped. ¡°You don¡¯t think that Sylvie views you as someone more important than her life? That I view you as someone that precious?¡±


    My retort died on my lips as a convoluted mixture of shame and anger took the place of my earlier disbelief. My mouth slowly closed as I worked my jaw, trying to find some sort of retort as I stewed.


    That¡¯s the entire reason I¡¯ve been training so hard, I thought angrily. So Tess and my loved ones don¡¯t have to put themselves in harm¡¯s way. And I¡¯ve failed.


    A tense silence settled over the room as this impasse was reached. I was reminded painfully of my last conversation with my parents as they resolved themselves to go off to war. I remembered Dad¡¯s eyes as they flashed, the news of Adam¡¯s death in the Twin Horns spurring him to put himself at risk. Mom¡¯s quiet resolution to finally use her deviant magic again and heal those that needed it dug through my brain like old wounds.


    Why can¡¯t I ever keep the ones I love safe? I thought, memories of my life as Grey threatening to resurface once more. I was afraid that if I opened my eyes, Cecilia¡¯s blood would still stain my hands. Why do I always fail to protect them?


    ¡°Spellsong needed us,¡± Sylvie said, moving forward and curling up next to me as she sensed my thoughts. ¡°His healing¨Cthe way he used his aether arts¨Cit operated on some sort of¡­ empathy. Of a connection I didn¡¯t quite understand. But to fully heal you, Art, he needed Tessia and me. Your anchors.¡±


    I remembered those three fires in that deepest darkness, how they¡¯d seemed to call to me. Beckon me like an exhausted man to his hearth after a long day of work. The rhythm of each was like water flowing through my soul, the gentle lull telling me it wasn¡¯t yet time to sleep.


    I swallowed, burying my face in my hands as I tried to process this information. I tried to recall everything that Spellsong had said to me. I vaguely recalled¡­


    ¡°I can simply kill you, King Grey,¡± a phantom voice echoed, eyes like twin suns flaring like the corona of a star.


    My hands clenched my bedsheets as the memory returned. Spellsong knew my identity, I thought with sudden clarity as my eyes dilated. He knew of my past life. But how? Why did he heal me? What does he know?!


    Sylvie sensed my turbulent thoughts, felt my questions boiling. She spared Tess a glance, who in turn was still turned away from me in quiet anger.


    ¡°And then Spellsong started to leave after his work was done,¡± Sylvie continued, her voice starting to grow quiet. I felt her emotions retreat as a wall of uncharacteristic fear and terror surged up, pushing past her own control. ¡°But he had more to say to us. He said¡­ said that Tessia had been infected and tracked. That she was needed for¡­¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s voice cut off as our bond went fully dark. I felt goosebumps rise along my flesh as the words settled. Tessia slowly turned back to me, her turquoise eyes glimmering with an emotion I didn¡¯t understand. The air in the room seemed to still, the jovial atmosphere enveloping us earlier washing away like a scab being torn from an injury.


    ¡°Sylvie,¡± I said slowly, feeling my heart clench painfully. ¡°Sylvie, what did Spellsong say?¡±


    My bond didn¡¯t reply. She slammed shut her fox-like eyes, trembling visibly. She seemed unable to say the words, too shaken by whatever they might mean.


    What could have scared her so deeply? I wondered, feeling my own worry grow. My bond was an asura, granddaughter to perhaps the most powerful being in this world. And together, we had faced down Retainers and Scythes¨Cyet very few things had ever managed to truly terrify her.


    But whatever it was that Spellsong had said¨Cwhatever warning he had uttered¨Chad managed to instill an existential dread within my young dragon that made her hesitate to even speak.


    Instead, it was the elven princess at my side who took up the mantle, her shoulders squaring. She looked me in the eye, a simultaneous seriousness and courage writ across her features as if in ink.


    ¡°He said that I was needed,¡± Tess said quietly, ¡°to be the Vessel for¨C¡±


    The door to my room burst open, and Virion strode into the room as if his robes were aflame. He paused when he saw Tess, his harsh expression softening somewhat.


    I let out a breath I didn¡¯t even know I¡¯d been holding as Tess mechanically pulled herself away from me. I hadn¡¯t realized it, but the elven princess had been leaning toward me as she¡¯d prepared herself to speak, closing the distance in more than one way.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you awake, General Arthur,¡± Virion said sharply. ¡°The emitters in the castle weren¡¯t able to perform any diagnostic spells on you, which according to Lady Indrath,¡± the Commander nodded respectfully to Sylvie¡¯s demure fox form, ¡°was a result of your asuran weapon manifesting, so we weren¡¯t able to get a read on how long it would take for you to awaken.¡±


    I sighed, shelving the existential questions Spellsong had left me with for a bare moment. I could ask my bond about them later, and I could only focus on so many things at once.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to have kept you waiting,¡± I said, forcing a tired smile onto my face. ¡°Sylvie and Tess have been filling me in on what happened after my fight.¡±


    Gramps¡¯ eyes sparkled mischievously as a slight grin stretched across his face. ¡°My dear granddaughter has done nothing but worry over your body for the past few days, Arthur,¡± he said. ¡°You should really thank her for that.¡±


    Tess¡¯ long ears drooped slightly at Virion¡¯s words, a light blush covering her cheeks as she shifted nervously. But the response wasn¡¯t as¡­ animated as usual. Gramps seemed to belatedly sense the tension that had pervaded the room right before his entrance, his expression falling.


    Virion heaved a deep, deep sigh. It was the world-weary kind of sigh I¡¯d grown accustomed to in my life as King Grey. I had never allowed myself to display such expressions for fear of appearing weak¨Cappearing human¨Cbut the councilors and nobles that I kept close to my power block always did. I remembered Marlorn in particular heaving that exact sort of sigh more than a few times as the war with Trayden ramped upward and death tolls skyrocketed.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t have very much time to rest, Arthur,¡± Virion said sadly. ¡°We¡¯ve received reports from an escaped prisoner of the Alacryans¨Ca boy I know named Albold Chaffer. Furthermore, there have been contacts that suggest that Olfred Warend¨Cas acting leader of the dwarven rebellion¨Cwishes to parlay; likely for an exchange of prisoners. Not to mention all the complications that Spellsong created in his most recent¡­ acts.¡±


    I thumped my head against my pillows, closing my eyes as I felt a headache building in the confines of my skull. This past month and a half or so, I¡¯d done nothing but train. I was in the flying castle with my sister, but I¡¯d barely had the chance to interact with her as I¡¯d wished. I felt something in me creak at the pressure that continued to pile on.


    ¡°That is the reality of war,¡± I said somberly, laying an arm over my eyes. ¡°No rest will come to those at the forefront until it is done.¡±


    Virion sighed again. ¡°You speak as if this isn¡¯t your first war, Arthur,¡± the elderly elf said with a humorless chuckle. ¡°It makes me wonder how you got so wise at such a young age. For a human, too,¡± he snorted.


    I¡¯ve been through war, I thought, my mind flashing back to the conflict between Etharia and Trayden. And as Trayden¡¯s allies had tried to step in? They¡¯d simply become fodder to fertilize the earth they¡¯d once called home. As Grey, I¡¯d been nothing but a machine. A harvester reaping lives in the hundreds of thousands.


    In the millions.


    Surprisingly, I felt Tess¡¯ hand on my shoulder. I moved my arm from my face, feeling as she ran her fingers along my arm in a surprisingly comforting gesture. Her eyes were questioning as they stared into my own.


    And out of the corner of my eye, I noticed how Virion turned away, a flash of guilt on his face as he did so. ¡°And I bring other news from the Council,¡± he said softly. ¡°In regards to Tessia in particular.¡±


    Tess¡¯ hand tightened on my shoulder. Her silver brows furrowed as Gramps¡¯ hesitance¨Chis guilt¨Cbled through his words.


    ¡°Grandpa?¡± she asked, shifting on the bed to face the former king of Elenoir. ¡°What is this about?¡±


    Virion didn¡¯t sigh this time. I wasn¡¯t sure he had it in him. ¡°By order of the Triunion Council¨Cas ratified by a majority vote¨CTessia Eralith is to be discharged from duty as Head of her unit,¡± he said somberly. ¡°Effective immediately. She is to be taken back to Elshire and held under guard in Zestier until further notice to tend to her safety.¡±


    Tess¡¯ jaw dropped, momentarily too stunned to utter words. I felt my eyes widen in shock and disbelief as the words were uttered.


    ¡°What?¡± Tess asked, stumbling from the bed and lurching toward her grandfather. ¡°Grandpa, you¡¯re joking, aren¡¯t you? This is just a¡­ just a prank. Or some sort of misread order. Right?¡±


    Virion kept his back to his daughter as he stared out a nearby window, the clouds far beyond holding his attention. ¡°The order was signed by three out of four of the councilmembers,¡± he said. ¡°Your parents and Priscilla Glayder agreed unanimously to pull you from battle. For fear of what your capture¨Cor death¨Ccould mean for the integrity of the Council itself.¡±


    And finally, rage subsumed the princess¡¯ disbelief. ¡°No, they have no right!¡± she snapped, grabbing her grandfather¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯ve proven myself a capable commander! I¡¯ve fought hundreds of beasts, led so many expeditions in the Beast Glades! I earned the position I reached! Fought for it, for my continent!¡± She tugged on her grandfather¡¯s arms, tears gathering in her eyes. ¡°Grandpa, you¡¯re the Commander of the council! You can overturn this, can¡¯t you? You have the authority! Tell them not to just¡­ shove me into a box like a glass sculpture!¡±


    Virion still refused to look his granddaughter in the eye. ¡°I may be acting head of the Council, but I must remain impartial,¡± he said, repeating the words as if to convince himself. ¡°Were I to overturn this decision¨Cmade by a majority¨CI¡¯d undermine the integrity of the entire Triunion as a whole. I can¡¯t be a dictator, little one, even if it pains me.¡±


    Oh, no, I thought, recognizing the guilt in Virion¡¯s wizened eyes. The pain that subsumed them, the restrained acknowledgment of the real reason he didn¡¯t reject the Council¡¯s decision. Because for all his logical words, he didn¡¯t want to lose his granddaughter, either.


    And Tess saw it too.


    ¡°Grandpa,¡± she said quietly, tears streaming down her face. I felt something in my chest shift as I saw the grief play out on my childhood friend¡¯s features. ¡°Grandpa, you promised me,¡± she said in a small voice. ¡°Promised me that I could fight in this war. I fought you¨Cproved myself. Didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Virion didn¡¯t respond, his shoulders trembling as he blocked out his granddaughter¡¯s pleas.


    I expected Tessia to rage. To throw fists, maybe hurl accusations that would no doubt land right on the mark. That was what she had done in the wake of learning of Cynthia Goodsky¡¯s death, after all. Instead, the princess of Elshire simply took a few steps backward. ¡°That¡¯s how it is then,¡± she said, her voice hollow. ¡°That¡¯s what it all amounts to?¡±


    She turned away, striding toward the door with a strange sort of grace. The resigned acceptance in her voice seemed to hurt Virion far more than any outburst could have.


    ¡°We¡¯ll need to have a talk about Spellsong, Arthur,¡± Virion said, his voice shaking. The old elf had carried the weight of this war as Commander on his shoulders for years, but that single interaction seemed to compound the weight of it all tenfold as he drooped. He looked like some sort of scarecrow cast to the wind. ¡°About what his healing of you meant and why he tried to attack the princess.¡±


    The old elf stumbled out of the room as if he were half asleep, leaving me numb atop my bed.


    I should go to her, I thought, preparing myself to try and leave my bed. Tess was hurting from this. But what could I say? For all that the decision of the Council to withdraw her from battle hurt my childhood friend, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to disagree with them.


    I found myself in Virion¡¯s shoes, the logic of it fitting so, so neatly with my own selfish desires. Of course, keeping one of the princesses of the Triunion in the war would be detrimental.


    I groaned, rubbing my face with my hands. It was all so complicated.


    ¡°The Council was right to do what they did,¡± Sylvie said. I belatedly realized she¡¯d still been keeping her emotions quiet from me, her white fox form hunkered in a ball as if to ward off the cold. ¡°Withdrawing her from battle and danger.¡±


    I blinked in surprise. I hadn¡¯t expected Sylvie to agree with me on that front¨Cshe was the one who pushed me in better directions. Directions that supported the growth of those around me and myself. For her to agree with an action that limited Tessia¡¯s freedom¡­


    ¡°It is the most sensible tactical decision,¡± I said with a sigh, ¡°but it¡¯s unfortunate that Tess¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean,¡± Sylvie interrupted. ¡°This goes beyond what even the Council knows. What Virion knows.¡±


    Confused, I looked down at my foxy dragon bond. ¡°What do you mean, then?¡± I inquired, feeling a strange numbness across my body.


    Sylvie was silent for a long, long moment. That short span of time seemed to stretch like taffy as she circled on the bed, trying and failing to figure out a way to word her next sentence. ¡°Arthur, before Spellsong finally left us, he told us why he¡¯d gone out of his way to confront Tessia. And before he told us, he made us swear an oath. Me on my mother; and Tessia on her grandfather.¡±


    Sylvie turned to look at me, a trembling fear in her draconic pupils as they held mine. Her control of her emotions slipped as they began to flood into mine of their own accord. ¡°You were brought to this world as a means to an end, Art. A stepping stone in understanding what it took to reincarnate a soul. Because Agrona planned to use Tessia¡¯s body as a Vessel, Arthur,¡± she said quietly. ¡°So he can bring another from the Beyond.¡±


    I felt my mana core itself freeze in the center of my chest.


    ¡°You came to this world so the High Sovereign could bring the soul of a woman that King Grey knew long ago, before he ended her life. One who commanded the world as she pleased,¡± Sylvie said with an air of dread quotation, staring up at me.


    I thought of my own rebirth into this world. I¡¯d rebelled against the idea that it was pure, cosmic chance. It felt too purposeful, too right. But as Sylvie¡¯s words settled against my bones, I felt a different kind of fear.


    Cecilia had thrown herself onto my blade in an act of sacrifice, so she would never have to be controlled by another again. Yet if Agrona¨Cthe maniacal head of the Vritra clan¨Chad reincarnated my soul just to gain an understanding of the process, to pull another into this world under his whims?


    I tried to imagine what sort of power Cecilia might have if she were brought to this world. And I found that I could not fathom it.


    Yet as the implications of my bond¡¯s words swam within my mind like a tempest, bashing and decimating any sense of peace I might have ever found, it was strangely something else that rose to the surface first.


    Because if Spellsong¨Chowever he knew of my past life and the reasons for my reincarnation into this world¨Chad said this to both Sylvie and Tess, that meant the elven princess knew my greatest held secret.


    She knew of my past life.

 Chapter 213: For the Cause

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    Toren¡¯s body felt warm in my arms. Always, always warm. Yet as comforting as the heat radiating from his breast usually was, tonight it wasn¡¯t enough to banish the chill grasping my bones.


    I allowed myself to contemplate the dimension ring wrapped around my finger like the coil of a constricting serpent. The kind that slowly choked off the breath from the lungs of a prey animal. I couldn¡¯t allow myself to think too deeply on why. After all, not even my thoughts were safe from the touch of those so far above.


    The air around this section of Burim stunk of fear and paranoia as the remnants of spellfire cloyed in the atmosphere. The workers and common dwarves of the city shied back as I slowly rose into the air.


    ¡°Lady Seris,¡± a man called, bullying his way to the front of the contingent of mages who had armed themselves and surrounded Lord Daen. I recognized him quickly¨Cthe dark-skinned son of Named Blood Hercross whom I¡¯d assigned to be under Toren¡¯s command. As my eyes focused on him from within the crater, he fell to a quick knee amidst the uncertain guards. ¡°Pardon my presumptuous words, my Scythe,¡± he said, ¡°but might I know what is to become of Lord Daen?¡±


    I thought I caught a hint of a protective gleam in the Hercross boy¡¯s gaze as he stared at Toren¡¯s limp form.


    Such loyalty, I thought, sparing Toren¡¯s body a glance. You have inspired more in your time on this continent, haven¡¯t you, Spellsong?


    ¡°I will make a statement of an official capacity in the near future,¡± I said, still internally cursing myself for Wolfrum¡¯s flight. The dimension ring on my finger was certainly his, and from the body of Jordan Redwater¨Cone of Wolfrum¡¯s distant cousins¨Cit painted a very dark picture of what had nearly happened. ¡°Expect news of your commander to reach you by the next morning, Lieutenant Hercross.¡±


    The pink-eyed man swallowed, bowing deeply as the men around him shuffled nervously.


    ¡°You are to disperse immediately,¡± I commanded, flexing my killing intent for the barest instant as my fingers clutched Toren¡¯s shoulders. ¡°And I will have an official report of the incidents that led to this outbreak delivered to me within the next hour. Are we clear?¡± I said to the crowd of mages, a mix of both Alacryan and dwarven.


    Hercross was the first to acquiesce. ¡°Of course, Scythe Seris,¡± he said sharply. ¡°It will be done.¡±


    At his words, I allowed myself to drift away from the scene of the battle. I¡¯d rushed here after sensing the disturbance in the mana¨Cthe familiar disturbance¨Cbut what I¡¯d arrived upon had been far different than my expectations.


    For Wolfrum to try and act against my interests¡­ Part of me had recognized the buildup of anger and resentment in the young man, but I had attributed it to the stressors of war and the shifting circumstances. I had planned to address his increasingly aberrant behavior as soon as my position within Burim had been cemented more thoroughly, but once again, it appeared I was too late.


    It appears you have spared me from another disaster, White Flame of Fiachra, I thought, remembering my miscalculations before the Plaguefire Incursion. I¡¯d expected Mardeth to act at a later date as well: to act on reason and logic rather than emotion.


    It appeared I was a poor predictor of that part of people, I realized with an internally somber note. I floated toward my private quarters in the Divot, the highest point in Burim that protected the many nobles from the encroaching lavatides.


    The eyes of many followed me as I cradled Toren close, but for once, I did not feel the tingling itch to distance myself.


    Let them see, I thought, allowing that spike of rebellious emotion to drive me upward. They can draw their conclusions.


    It wasn¡¯t long before I reached my quarters, the insides dark and ominous. The only light was from half a dozen candles placed all about. The center of the room was made of a type of quartz entirely unique to Burim. The onyx-colored obsidian was normally opaque and shadowed, but when imbued with mana, lightened to a startling translucency. The material itself was rare and had been produced only once in the history of Burim: on the first lavatide, when the swell of magma had erupted from the side of the room.


    I took a deep breath as the shadowed room enveloped me. Here, I could think for the barest of instants. I couldn¡¯t dwell on the truth of what had nearly happened, of course, for I could not allow such thoughts to even grace my mind. But as I stepped into the shadowed darkness, I allowed myself the barest ounce of treasonous fear.


    I trembled with Toren in my arms. He was a life preserver, and I clung to him like a drowning woman, my breath shaking as flashes of darkness¨Cflashes of those deep, deep cells within the pits of Taegrin Caelum¨Clurked in my mind.


    I couldn¡¯t even truly think of anything else. My thoughts were no haven as they usually were, no sacrosanct hovel that would protect me from the outside world. No, he could know my thoughts if he truly wanted to. He could pick them apart like a puzzle. And I dared not even think his name.


    I set Toren down on the large king-size bed that had once been the property of a prodigious dwarven noble. As I did so, I noticed the many cuts and scrapes across Toren¡¯s hands and chest. I hadn¡¯t even noticed how his blood had stained my dress.


    You must center yourself, Seris Vritra, I thought, taking a deep breath as I brushed a lock of Toren¡¯s hair from his face. I didn¡¯t wish to leave him here just yet, even for an instant. My eyes traced to the scars on the back of his hands where I had marked him, scarred him as mine.


    I took a deep breath, and then I turned around, striding toward a chaise lounge sofa near the center of the room. The floor just before it was made entirely of that mana-attuned obsidian, and if I were so inclined, I might have imbued it with mana to give myself a glimpse of the city below.


    But as I collapsed into the long chair, I knew that I needed the darkness. I was a thing of the night, after all, and my analytical mind needed that surety.


    I withdrew a single item from the dimension ring on my finger. The bronze feathered brooch settled neatly into my hand, reflecting the barest light in the room from the distant sconces. I beheld its intricate ridges and curves, admiring the brilliant elegance in such a slim piece of attire.


    When I had found Toren in the aftermath of his excursion to the Beast Glades, it had not been by sheer luck. Acting in a panic after discovering the completed dwarven puzzle, I¡¯d used a hidden function of my communication artifact to track down his location.


    And when I¡¯d found him, he had barely been conscious, the brooch in his hand melted to near ruin. Except as time went on, the relic gradually repaired itself. And not a speck of mana could be sensed as it had done so.


    I¡¯d entrusted Xander with the safekeeping of Toren¡¯s belongings, not suspecting that he¡¯d known the true origins of the brooch. That had nearly proven a fatal mistake, because¡­


    I tried to give them another path. Those whose blood would burn their loves away¡­ I wanted them to have the choice that I¨C


    I shook my head, forcibly banishing such thoughts. I could contemplate the hows and whys of Wolfrum¡¯s betrayal later¨Cright now, I needed more fundamental answers.


    ¡°I told you before that what I did would help your cause,¡± Toren¡¯s voice echoed in my mind, his eyes burning with triumph.


    I didn¡¯t know how long I spent lounging bonelessly on the sofa. It could have been minutes, or perhaps hours. I took that time to sort out my thoughts, make connections, and try and put it all together.


    I withdrew something else from a dimension ring¨Cthis time from my personal storage. A bottle of vintage Sandaerene Red settled into my fingers, the bottle of wine unopened even after half a millennium of aging.


    I¡¯d been saving this for a special occasion. I didn¡¯t know exactly when I¡¯d allow myself to indulge in this rare concoction, but I knew I needed a touch of such drink to center myself.


    I popped the cork, the scent immediately invading my nostrils. Sandaerene wines were of the sweeter variety. Etril made the best wines, of course, but theirs were more bitter and harsh. We Souths appreciated the sweetness of grapes more than most.


    I withdrew a glass from my dimension ring, the clear crystal goblet matching the bottle I held perfectly. With a trembling breath, I poured the drink into the cup, the flow of red not unlike an artery leaking blood.


    ¡°I must commend you again, Toren,¡± I said quietly, setting the bottle down on the crystal floor. ¡°There are very, very few people who have ever vexed me to the point of alcohol. You should count yourself privileged to have reached such a station.¡±


    Toren¡¯s eyes seemed to glow like hot coals from where he watched me quietly. He shifted wordlessly on the bed, seemingly attempting to move, then groaned in pain.


    ¡°I¡­ thought it was tea at first,¡± he said, clearly only half-conscious. ¡°But the smell was wrong.¡± sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I tilted my head, inspecting Toren as he tried in vain to prop himself up against the cushions.


    ¡°Don¡¯t try so hard to sit up straight,¡± I asked with a sigh. ¡°You¡¯re getting blood over the silk.¡±


    Toren paused in his limp attempts to move, seeming to belatedly realize that yes, he was getting blood all over the nice sheets. If there were enough light in the room, I was sure I would¡¯ve seen him blush.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said a bit numbly, appearing to center himself a bit more. ¡°I apologize. It¡­ uh, wasn¡¯t my intent.¡±


    Against my will, I let out the barest laugh at the mage¡¯s amusing awkwardness. ¡°I put you there, Toren,¡± I said, covering my mouth with a hand. ¡°I should have expected you would have some sort of wound on your body after all the times you¡¯ve thrown yourself into a thresher.¡±


    That was one of the things I liked about Toren. He feared many things, but bleeding was not among them.


    A grim silence settled over us, however, as I prepared to ask my questions. I looked at the goblet in my hand, admiring the swirl of red liquid within.


    Then I took a liberal sip, allowing the taste to caress my palette like the edge of a knife. The wine washed down my throat, a sharp yet simultaneously cool aftertaste flaring in its wake. The mana imbued into the alcohol churned in my stomach, concentrating the effects of the toxin in an attempt to push past the accelerated metabolism of my physique.


    It didn¡¯t work, of course. At my level of strength, I¡¯d need more than a sip.


    Full-bodied and powerful in its initial flavor, I thought, appreciating the subtleties of the drink. Few beverages are worthy of a Scythe, yet I must count this brew among them.


    ¡°Tell me, Toren,¡± I said, the aftertaste of the Sandaerene Red still sweet on the edges of my tongue, ¡°why did you seek out Arthur Leywin?¡±


    Toren didn¡¯t immediately respond to my inquiries. Instead, I watched as he grunted in pain, forcing himself to sit up fully on the bed.


    ¡°Could you pour me a glass of whatever that is?¡± he asked somberly. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to need it.¡±


    I raised a brow, before withdrawing another goblet from the depths of my dimension ring. I poured a liberal helping of the wine, recognizing the weight in Toren¡¯s tone. If I wanted his tongue to be truly loose, a serving of alcohol would only help.


    I watched as the glass was outlined in a shaky flare of white, Toren engaging his spellform with gritted teeth. When the goblet finally settled into his hand, it barely shook.


    And he started off by taking a full-on gulp of the wine. I watched with mild amusement as the mage immediately broke down into ragged coughs as the alcohol hit his stomach.


    ¡°Damn, that¡¯s strong,¡± he said, before coughing again.


    ¡°This is Sandaerene Red,¡± I said absently. ¡°This vintage began its journey in the year 1214 in a mana distillery on the outskirts of what would become Sandaerene using mana-imbibed grapes. Since then, it fermented and aged for the past half a millennium.¡± I smiled as I watched Toren¡¯s face drain of color. So stark was the difference that I could see it even in the dark, his eyes darting to the goblet in his hand as he recognized the true worth of what he¡¯d guzzled. ¡°I¡¯ve been saving this bottle in particular for the past seventy-five years, waiting for an occasion momentous enough to warrant its consumption.¡±


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    Toren¡¯s expression slowly became more serious as he regarded me. I swirled my wine, meeting the depths of his burning eyes. He visibly hesitated as I provoked him with the silence of my stare.


    ¡°The relic,¡± he said, his eyes failing to hold my own as they darted for the brooch I¡¯d been absently stroking with my other hand, ¡°may I have it?¡±


    I relaxed my hand over the metallic feather, giving a silent signal to the mage across from me. He read it, of course, and the feathered brooch became outlined in white as it charted a wobbly path in the air toward Toren¡¯s waiting hand.


    ¡°Before I start,¡± he said, ¡°why do you think I did what I did?¡±


    ¡°I am not the one supposed to be answering questions here, Toren,¡± I chided sharply. ¡°You are. You¡¯ve kept your secrets long enough. Your relic won¡¯t let you escape from my clutches this time.¡±


    Toren sighed weakly, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m asking because I want to know where I¡¯ll need to start in my explanation,¡± he said somberly. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ good at seeing through me. And I don¡¯t know how much you¡¯ve seen.¡±


    I tapped my fingers along the edges of the chaise lounge nervously. I commanded them to stop.


    How much to reveal, hmmm? Toren was a creature of reciprocity. If I wanted his honesty, I needed him to believe I was being honest with him. A few seconds passed as I contemplated my words¨Cand gave time for the alcohol in Toren¡¯s system to loosen his tongue just a bit more.


    ¡°I have long suspected you bore some sort of vendetta against the reincarnates,¡± I allowed. ¡°You have shown yourself to be remarkably invested in them and their beings beyond what would be normally expected.¡±


    I watched Toren like a hawk as he slowly nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. I left out the part where I believed him to be a reincarnate himself from the very same land as Arthur Leywin and Nico Sever. I didn¡¯t need to reveal those cards yet.


    Yet the ease with which Toren received my words¨Cthe nonchalance and clear understanding


    he displayed regarding the reincarnates¨Ccemented my suspicions further. The mere existence of reincarnates was a heavily kept secret even within Taegrin Caelum, and the fact that Toren didn¡¯t immediately question me on what a reincarnate was spoke volumes.


    ¡°Though why you hold this grudge or for what purpose you hope it to serve,¡± I continued, taking another sip of my wine, ¡°I cannot fathom. I suppose that is for you to answer now, hmmm?¡±


    Inadvertently, I felt my heart rate pick up as Toren shifted on the bed. I found my eyes tracing his broad shoulders as he forced himself to face me fully, swinging his legs off the side and clasping his arms over his knees.


    I¡¯m close to the finale of another puzzle, I thought, allowing myself just a hint of giddiness. For all that Wolfrum¡¯s betrayal had shaken me, I felt anticipation swell in my chest as I waited for Toren to speak.


    ¡°If I want you to understand my focus on the reincarnates,¡± Toren started, his eyes flashing with the light of a bonfire, ¡°then I¡¯m going to need to tell you a story, but it might take a bit of time.¡±


    I shifted, stretching myself out more comfortably on the sofa as I stared at the mage. My fingers tightened imperceptibly around the goblet in my hand. ¡°I assure you, Lord Spellsong,¡± I said slyly, ¡°there is more than enough time in the night for such simple things between us.¡±


    Toren shook his head slowly, a mournful cast to his features. ¡°I assure you, it¡¯s all very¡­ far from simple. You¡¯re going to need to learn the source of my knowledge, though,¡± he said with a suffering sigh. ¡°Agrona Vritra kept many, many prisoners in the depths of his vaults. I¡¯m sure you know of this.¡±


    I nodded slowly, taking another small sip of my wine. Unfortunately, I had yet to feel any effect from the brew. I was intentionally taking a measured pace of consumption.


    Toren held the relic to the side, imbuing it with that strange purple-orange aether light of his. I watched curiously as the relic shifted and morphed, taking on the form of a small clockwork bird. Its eyes blazed with frightening intensity as they centered on me.


    ¡°And we both know that there was one prisoner who stood out among them all. One that was unique and special in both her origin and being.¡±


    I felt a spike of adrenaline course through my veins as I refocused entirely on Toren. ¡°The phoenix,¡± I said, hoping my voice did not sound as breathy as it did to me. ¡°The one who granted you your Beast Will, yes?¡±


    Toren nodded slowly. ¡°Yes,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°Lady Dawn of the Asclepius Clan. Sister to the Lost Prince and eminent phoenix among the asura of Epheotus.¡± Toren tilted his head in a surprisingly avian way. ¡±Do you know what happened to her, Seris?¡±


    ¡°She destroyed herself,¡± I found myself saying, the puzzle pieces aligning. ¡°She threw her soul to the wind. And though she failed to possess your body, Toren, she left something else behind as she died.¡±


    After all, Agrona¡¯s words within the unholy sanctum of the High Cathedral said as much: Lady Dawn had failed to possess a ¡°lesser¡¯s body from the slums.¡± Yet there was another kernel of information here. Toren had certainly spoken with this phoenix before her passing, of that I was certain. I suspected the asura¡¯s spell had brought another soul along for the trip: perhaps as a contingency, or maybe as cover to avoid detection from the High Sovereign¡¯s all-seeing eye.


    I waited for Toren to confirm my long-held suspicion; to verify the truth of my assumption from months past. The same sort of high that I used to feel during the apex of a battle slowly rose to a crescendo as I fought to contain myself, waiting on Toren¡¯s next words as a starving woman hovered near a table.


    ¡°That¡¯s all true,¡± Toren said, his shoulders drooping. ¡°Except there¡¯s one thing you¡¯re missing.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be, Toren?¡± I asked, feeling my lips twitch as I struggled to restrain a sly smile.


    Toren looked up at me, his burning pupils locking with my own. ¡°Why do you assume she is dead?¡±


    The buildup of momentum in my mind cracked.


    ¡°Pardon?¡± I asked, not expecting this avenue. My lips pursed uncertainly.


    It was Toren¡¯s turn to smile. His annoying, self-satisfied kind that I always felt the urge to wipe from his face with the back of my hand. ¡°Why do you think that Lady Dawn perished, Seris?¡± he asked, his eyes twinkling. I recognized that very twinkle. It was the same spark I always cultivated in my soul whenever I managed to swindle someone from a grand secret. ¡°She was a phoenix, was she not? A master of life and death. Harbinger of rebirth and artist of the soul.¡±


    I blinked, utterly thrown by this direction of questioning. ¡°I assumed so because the High Sovereign himself said¨C¡±


    My eyes widened to the size of moons as my jaw snapped shut. My breath hitched as a single possibility made itself known.


    It clicked.


    I turned my head slowly, mechanically, toward where that relic watched me with judging suns for eyes. I¡¯d always believed those eyes to be too piercing, too intelligent. But the most likely explanation was surely the one I should¡¯ve chosen. After all, it would be simply¡­ simply absurd if the phoenix had managed to just¡­ to just¡­ all along¡­


    ¡°I believe you have broken her, Contractor,¡± the relic¨Cthe asura¨Csaid in a melodic, stern tone. ¡°I must acknowledge that it is amusing to watch, but I suspect this was not your intent.¡±


    Toren simply snorted in clear amusement as my thoughts stumbled. Outwardly, all I could do was stare at the¡­ at the phoenix as I gaped like an unad witnessing her first mage.


    But internally, I was refactoring everything I knew¨Cand I suddenly could not fathom how I had missed this reality. Toren Daen was always exceptional in his spellwork, despite having no tutor in the Dicathian method of forming mana arts. His blade work and martial forms were exquisite, as if molded by a master dancer in the art of combat.


    And then the relic itself: it had led me to Toren in the wake of the recent battle. In an effort to¡­ to insist I comfort him.


    ¡°I should have seen it,¡± I said absently, restraining the urge to crush the goblet of wine held in my grip as I stared emptily at the relic. ¡°It makes everything make so much more sense.¡±


    Toren wasn¡¯t a reincarnate. No, he simply had been told of them by the very being who had facilitated their induction into the world, that knew of other worlds beyond ours. If I were to face this information logically, then my fanciful theory of Toren¡¯s reincarnation fell away like dust in my fingers.


    Yet instead of the surge of accomplishment and adrenaline I felt whenever I completed a puzzle, this revelation tasted like ashes in my mouth. The truth had been handed to me, and while fantastical, it felt less so than my previous assumption. I had gambled wrong, guessed wrong. And that painted everything in a slightly bitter tinge.


    And then I felt another wave of uncertainty. If an asura were here¨Cin my rooms¡­


    I rose slowly to my feet, feeling as my mana churned beneath the surface. I locked eyes with the relic, feeling a familiar fear surge in my stomach.


    The same that clutched me whenever I was in the presence of the Sovereigns.


    I opened my mouth to speak. Perhaps to ask what this asura wished of me. What she desired of my resources. If I wanted to, could I afford to refuse? It¨C


    ¡°I will have no bowing and scraping from you,¡± the phoenix said with a whirring hiss. It flared its relic wings, a sound like a hundred knives scraping together echoing out. ¡°You are not one to do so, are you, Scythe of Sehz-Clar?¡±


    My eyes hardened as I ran through several contingency plans in my head, still maintaining eye contact with the phoenix. ¡°Then I shall not bow, Lady Dawn,¡± I tried. I gathered my thoughts more under control, noting how Toren watched our interaction tensely. ¡°But it has been a long time since I have been in the presence of your kind.¡±


    I would have to question him later. And what this meant from him, for him¡­


    ¡°Do you think me like your High Sovereign, young fledgling?¡± the phoenix asked, the words echoing out like sweet fire, ¡°Prone to bouts of cruel humors and malevolent torture?¡±


    I remained silent.


    ¡°I know your experience with the asura of your continent has been drawn from the deepest depths of the hells, where every thought and emotion held dear is but another weakness to be stolen,¡± the relic said, its eyes boring into mine. ¡°Know that in this, we are the same.¡±


    I exhaled a steady breath, my eyes shaking. Then I sat back down on the sofa.


    But I did not relax.


    ¡°Only one other person in this world knows of this secret,¡± Toren said, drawing my attention back to him. ¡°Sevren Denoir granted the relic to Aurora on the condition that she convey any insight into its function to him that she could.¡±


    I took a deep breath, then took several gulps of the wine in my goblet. This time, when it hit my stomach, I did feel its effects on my physique ever-so-slightly. How Toren did not show any, I could not fathom.


    ¡°Have you always followed this phoenix¡¯s orders,¡± I asked, feeling dread pooling in my stomach as I voiced the question, ¡°listening to her commands from the shadows? Following her silent directives?¡±


    Toren¡¯s face softened as he stared at me. ¡°No, Seris, I¡ª¡± he sighed, running his hands through his hair. ¡°You know of Arthur Leywin and his dragon bond, yes?¡±


    I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak.


    Toren stood on shaky legs. The relic-phoenix hopped off his shoulder, sitting mutely on the bed as the mage trundled over to me. He stared at the empty spot on the chaise lounge next to me, his eyes asking a silent question.


    I turned away.


    Toren sighed, then sat down on the chaise lounge beside me anyway. Internally, I felt a spike of irritation. The gall of the man¨Cto so simply invade my personal space?


    ¡°We are similar in that manner, Aurora and I,¡± Toren said slowly. ¡°She can speak to me over a mental link, and I to her. But she has never ordered me to do anything. Every plan I have enacted¨Cevery action I have taken¨Cthey have been my own.¡±


    I found myself inspecting the lines of Toren¡¯s face. I knew his tells for when he lied to me, when he hid the truth and obscured what I wished to know. He showed none of those now. I guessed I should assume him truthful.


    But what is a man before an asura? I wondered, my eyes tracking over the shape of Toren¡¯s face. He was handsome. But was that crafted by a deity, too? A falsehood of some sort? What is his perception of reality to one who has bent it to their whims?


    ¡°I made a vow unto myself and my Clan,¡± the phoenix suddenly said from across the room. ¡°To never control the mind of another being. ¡®Lesser,¡¯ or otherwise. To never invade their sanctum or intrude upon the depths of their souls. For I know better than all before me what it is like to be ripped apart, piece by piece.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, feeling the foreign emotion of understanding as I stared at the somber little clockwork bird.


    ¡°You have cared for my Contractor¨Cmy son¨Cwell. Especially when I could not,¡± the little relic said in a notably morose tone. ¡°I would not have agreed to reveal myself had you not proven yourself wise and compassionate, Scythe of Alacrya. Had you not shown yourself someone my bond can put his trust in.¡±


    I worked my mouth, feeling¡­ feeling lost. I wasn¡¯t used to feeling so much at all in the first place. I¡¯d called this meeting with clear expectations of the outcome, but all of this¡­ I didn¡¯t know how to process all I felt.


    Because you suppress all of that emotion in every other place, I silently acknowledged. You banish it, except when in the presence of Toren Daen. And then it erupts, like the lavatides the folk of Burim have weathered for an age.


    ¡°I¡­ see,¡± I said, my usual grace utterly defunct. And part of me thought that I actually did see. That I did understand. I¡¯d seen care and compassion in the relic¡¯s eyes before¨Cwhen Toren lay mourning the loss of his innocence in the wake of the Battle of Burim.


    It was a strange thing to acknowledge. This asura appeared to care for Toren¨Cto truly desire his well-being.


    A point of control.


    ¡°But this just brings us back to the crux of the matter,¡± Toren said sadly, his voice piercing through the muddled gloom of my thoughts. ¡°Because you asked me why I confronted Lance Godspell, Seris, but that isn¡¯t the question that you should be asking.¡±


    He turned to look at me, his eyes hard and serious. ¡°I need to know, Seris. What do you know of the Legacy?¡±

 Chapter 214: Unmasked

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    My eyes widened slowly as Toren¡¯s words registered with me. The Legacy. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Agrona¡¯s secret project; his quiet endgame to disrupt the status quo of this world. I knew precious little about his end goal and motivations regarding the Legacy; the sources afforded to me were slim and indistinct. The High Sovereign regularly worked at cross-purpose to himself, confounding and confusing all who could not see his same vision.


    And none were more shrouded than this otherworld entity, known only by a title. I had managed to get some information from Nico Sever in regards to what exactly I could expect, but beyond that¡­


    ¡°I know the name,¡± I admitted to Toren, feeling my mind shift into a more analytical framework. ¡°But I do not know their purpose or what¡­ he might accomplish should he be successful.¡±


    Toren nodded slowly, the candles spread across the room seeming to dim all at once as he inhaled. ¡°The Legacy was a being of supreme power in Nico and Grey¡¯s previous world,¡± he said, wringing his hands. ¡°They bore the unique ability of control¨Cnot of themself, but of all others. Imagine a mage that with a bare taste of your mana could dominate every single speck of that energy. The world itself would bend to their whims, and not even the greatest mages¨Cbe they asura or mortal¨Cwould have a say in their own fate. For no matter how much you cultivated your control, you would be subject to their touch.¡±


    As Toren spoke, I allowed myself to imagine the picture he painted. And I found myself shuddering. If Agrona could simply deprive the greatest powers in this world of their very source of life¡­


    It could very well spell the end of Epheotus itself.


    I allowed myself to exhale slightly through my nose. ¡°And I assume you aim to¡­ influence this being¡¯s descent?¡± I asked, careful with my wording.


    Toren shifted slightly so that he faced me more fully on the sofa. ¡°Agrona brought two souls to this world from across the barrier of worlds, utilizing arts torn from the minds of the Asclepius phoenixes. And the souls he brought were not just any, no. For something as great, as monumental as the Legacy, you need supports. Points with which to anchor the soul. Like lighthouses that guide a ship to its dock.¡±


    I took a gulp of the wine once more, feeling as the liquid trailed down my throat like a sweet fire. My fingers might have trembled.


    ¡°Nico Sever,¡± I said slowly, grasping the breadth of Toren¡¯s implications immediately. ¡°And Arthur Leywin.¡±


    Toren reached a hand out toward me, no doubt sensing the mess that my emotions had become. Yet his hand halted, then curled back toward his knees.


    Unfortunate, I thought bleakly. The warmth this wine brings my stomach cannot banish the chill his words cast me into. Perhaps his touch would calm me.


    ¡°So that was why you sought out Arthur Leywin,¡± I said somberly. ¡°To deprive him of one of his anchors, thus preventing this being¡¯s descent?¡±


    Toren shifted nervously, averting his eyes from mine. For the first time, I noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, barely visible in the low light. Perhaps he was more affected by his glass of wine than he let on.


    ¡°Not exactly, Seris,¡± the last son of Named Blood Daen said. ¡°I will kill an anchor, that much I have sworn. But in this instance¡­ I sought to deprive the High Sovereign of not his anchors, but his Vessel.¡±


    I tilted my head, my hair shifting as I observed Toren. I meticulously filtered each new bit of information I received into their proper places within my mind, cataloging and marking them as needed. While I had begun to feel a slight buzz from the effect of the drink in my hands, I would not allow my thinking to be impeded.


    ¡°The¡­ Vessel?¡± I questioned.


    ¡°Tessia Eralith,¡± Toren explained. ¡°Princess of Elenoir. Her core was infected; tainted, in a way that allowed the High Sovereign to track her. And Fate is a fickle thing, Seris. It has a strange sense of irony to it, creating mirrors in destiny. More often than not, the future rhymes with the past. And using one of these rhymes, the elven Princess could have been supplanted by another. So I removed that taint in her core, leaving her far and away safer.¡±


    ¡°So you didn¡¯t seek out Arthur Leywin,¡± I said, feeling my brow furrow, ¡°but his princess instead?¡±


    Toren didn¡¯t respond.


    I exhaled a shuddering breath as he finished his story, leaning against the chaise lounge¡¯s backrest. My head swam slightly, and whether that was from the alcohol or the enormity of what Toren had revealed, I could not say.


    I could take him at face value, couldn¡¯t I? Theoretically, this knowledge was passed down from Lady Dawn¨CToren¡¯s bond, whatever that meant. If all he said were true, then¡­


    I downed the last of the wine in my goblet, then let my hand lay limply on the cushions. So long had I chased Toren¡¯s grand secret, and now that I had found it, I knew not how to move forward.


    I had so, so many plans¨Cplans I could not even afford to think of. If I wanted to account for all of this¡­ I¡¯d spared Arthur Leywin before. Did I seek his death now?


    It was too much to sort through in one, single moment. I found myself releasing a humorless chuckle as I laid my head against the back of the sofa, my eyes drifting closed as the steady warmth in my stomach compelled me.


    ¡°This is what it¡¯s all been about, in the end,¡± I muttered tiredly. ¡°All to this fascinating¨Cand troubling¨Crevelation you¡¯ve bestowed upon me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot to think about,¡± the young mage acknowledged. ¡°But you¡¯ll figure it out soon. You¡¯re too driven for this to shake you. But it hasn¡¯t all been about that.¡±


    Him and his errant tongue, I thought tiredly. That wine really had done its work on him if he was so quick to try and flatter me. He should do so more often.


    ¡°You know, Toren,¡± I muttered, driven by wine or by true desire, I could not tell, ¡±for so long, I¡¯ve been trying to puzzle you out. I wanted to discover what drove you in your antics. I have found myself lying awake at night, trying to reconcile how you think.¡±


    I felt the pressure on the sofa change slightly. I allowed my eyelids to peek open just the barest inch, revealing Toren as he mirrored my own slumped posture.


    And for the first time, I saw the weariness he carried there. The sheer exhaustion that hung over him like a stormcloud. ¡°You¡¯re not unique in that,¡± he said quietly. ¡°In your wondering.¡±


    I chuckled lightly, my fingers brushing his. Somehow, our hands found themselves intertwined. The sensation of his rough palm on mine almost banished the quiet dread and gloom that suffused everything else in my life. ¡°Do you wonder about yourself,¡± I teased, feeling sly, ¡°or of me, late into the night?¡±


    I felt Toren¡¯s pulse quicken slightly under his hand. Good, I thought, savoring the subtle change in his demeanor. You should not be so quick to influence me, Spellsong. I have every right to return the favor.


    ¡°You know the answer to that,¡± he eventually said. ¡°I¡¯ve found myself inadvertently thinking of what drives you, my Scythe.¡±


    My Scythe.


    I will have to present him with wine more often, I thought, feeling a slight smile¨Cone not unlike a contented predator¡¯s¨Ccurl across my lips. Absently, I noted as the blazing relic that bore the phoenix simmered away, shrinking back down to a brooch.


    I watched the transformation with a perplexed expression. ¡°Toren,¡± I said, ¡°where does your phoenix bond go when not¡­ here?¡±


    Toren certainly did blush this time. ¡°Aurora is nearly always here,¡± he admitted, ¡°but she can grant me privacy when I wish for it.¡±


    I hummed, cataloging this information in the depths of my mind as well. The air was quiet and somber, the revelations from a moment ago still cloaking every interaction. Yet there was also a strange sort of comfort in just being. Being with Toren, and just¡­ being, period.


    I didn¡¯t know what tomorrow would bring, how I would have to refactor my plans and preparations in the wake of Toren¡¯s secrets. But right now, I didn¡¯t need to worry about such things.


    How long has it been since I have truly relaxed? I asked myself, running a finger across Toren¡¯s hand, tracing the outline of the scars that stood prominently there. How long has it been since I allowed myself to breathe?


    ¡°I¡¯ve had my own fanciful ideas for what you are, Toren, and where you came from,¡± I finally said into the silence. ¡°Fancies of a wild mind, one that hopes for the impossible. They were farfetched, I must admit. But with what I had, I still hold that they were quite reasonable.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Toren prodded, nudging my shoulder with his, ¡°Do tell me what the enigmatic Scythe Seris thought of my origins.¡±


    I could almost imagine that annoying smirk of his plastered on his face. Were I less tired, I would have wiped it from his face already.


    ¡°You don¡¯t command me, Spellsong. I reveal this of my own volition, not because you demanded it of me,¡± I slurred, feeling my mind slip slightly as the welcoming call of slumber beckoned. ¡°You are aware of this, yes?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Toren replied, his tone good-natured. As the candles in the room continued to flicker and dim, I could just make out the curve of his inviting lips. His eyes, though¡­ they simmered like hot coals. ¡°Then this humble servant must request that his Scythe tell him just what was so whimsical about her musings.¡±


    I opened my mouth, closed it, and then furrowed my brow as I fought down a flush in my cheeks. I quietly wondered how I could convey my rather¡­ fanciful idea. It had all seemed to make sense in the moment, that Toren himself was a reincarnate. But perhaps that was my dreamlike desires projecting themselves onto the man at my side. The impossible possibility that there was a wild card outside even the High Sovereign¡¯s control.


    ¡°My initial guess was that you yourself were a reincarnated soul,¡± I finally said, the words feeling lame as they left my mouth. ¡°With the benefit of hindsight, I recognize how foolish such an idea may sound, but¨C¡±


    Toren¡¯s hand tensed around mine, his pulse surging like nothing else. Surprised, I looked into his eyes once more.


    They had contracted to the size of pinpricks, like dying embers cast up from a campfire. The shuddering breath he released seemed to shake the foundations of the very cavern we were in.


    ¡°Seris,¡± he said slowly, ¡°why do you think I¡¯m not a reincarnate?¡±


    I blinked a few times, my mind fuzzing at the edges. This time, I was certain the dizziness that impacted me was not from the alcohol. ¡°I¡­ I beg your pardon?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ like the others,¡± Toren said, seeming to have to wrench the words from the depths of his very soul, ¡°but¡­¡±


    I leaned forward toward the floor, cutting off Toren¡¯s words as my carefully arrayed thoughts were finally dashed to the wind. I grabbed the bottle of wine that lay there, feeling how the majority of it was still left.


    Good.


    I raised a shaky hand, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a wanton drink as my grace and composure abandoned me as a fresh soldier abandoned their sense of self on their first battlefield. I took several deep gulps of the wine before a hand finally wrenched the bottle from my grip.


    A slight dribble of red like a droplet of blood streaked down my lips as Toren pulled my succor away.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Now Seris, I don¡¯t think that is a very healthy reaction to¨C¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea,¡± I snapped at the presumptuous mage next to me, ¡°how long I have kept my ideas to myself?¡± I said, sounding annoyingly like a little girl all the while. ¡°And now you just¡­ just¡­¡±


    I scratched at my hair, groaning as my vision swam. That alcohol worked fast.


    ¡°You are going to explain,¡± I ordered, pointing a finger directly at Toren¡¯s face. His eyes went cross in an almost comical way as they centered on the point of my nail.


    Toren slowly shifted his hand away, moving the bottle outside of my immediate reach, his eyes focused on my accusing finger all the while. ¡°Well, I told you that I lay dying in the forest outside of Sehz-Clar the first time Aurora approached me, yeah?¡±


    I struggled to fully recall what Toren was referencing, but once I had, I found myself nodding. ¡°Yes. I thought something else could have taken your place. A soul, brought over by the phoenix.¡±


    Toren set the bottle down, then proceeded to gently push my arm out of the way so he could actually relax without risking my finger spearing into his eye. ¡°Well, that¡¯s partially correct,¡± he said. ¡°But it¡¯s just¡­¡±


    Toren groaned, running his hands through his hair and appearing genuinely unsure. Belatedly, I realized what this must mean. If Toren was a reincarnate, who exactly knew? Who had he told of this part of himself?


    And how long had he kept it hidden? All to himself, barred from the knowledge of every questing inquiry?


    A mask.


    As my intoxicated mind finally realized this, I felt a surge of an unfamiliar emotion: one that I hadn¡¯t felt in such force for so, so long.


    Guilt.


    I felt my throat clench as I shuffled away. ¡°I apologize, Toren,¡± I said, blinking rapidly to try and clear the inhibiting toxin from my sight. ¡°I¡­ I did not realize what this might mean. I am usually more adept at people, and things such as this. If you do not wish to reveal such things¡­¡±


    It was Toren¡¯s turn to grab the bottle of wine, before taking a few liberal gulps himself. When he pulled the bottle away, he heaved for breath, his eyes becoming more unfocused.


    ¡°That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve ever heard you apologize,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But you didn¡¯t need to.¡±


    The reincarnate slowly lowered the bottle back to the ground. ¡±I¡¯ve told nobody,¡± he admitted. ¡°None. Not even Sevren, who knows nearly everything else.¡±


    I found myself inadvertently remembering the darkness that had always haunted the depths of my soul. The thing that I was during the Redfeud War, before I¡¯d seen the true state of my life and all others.


    I hadn¡¯t told any of that side of me, either. And if I did, that would mean¡­


    ¡°I am called Twinsoul,¡± Toren finally said into the dread silence. ¡°In part, because Toren Daen and the man I used to be on Earth were mirrors across dimensions. But also because of what I am. I am of Earth and of Alacrya. I¡¯m a man stuck between two worlds, one eye on each life and blood of both. I have struggled for a very long time to reconcile what that must mean. And where someone like me could belong.¡±


    I found myself thinking of the first time I¡¯d heard Toren¡¯s music. I recalled his strange perception of the human person and the lengths he went to to try and uplift all: not just mages, but nonmages too. Not for the first time, I asked myself deeper questions about where he had found such ideals in a world that was crafted to break ideas of equality to shreds.


    The aftertaste of the wine suddenly tasted far too much like bloody copper.


    ¡°I am different from Nico and Arthur, Seris,¡± Toren said quietly, his shoulders slumping as he held his face in his hands. ¡°There are many reasons, but chief among them¡­ Chief among them, Seris, was that I had a life worth living on Earth. And in turn, I have endeavored to craft something meaningful for myself. For others, too.¡±


    And in that moment, I thought I knew another piece of the soulful mage in front of me. He tried so desperately to understand people¨Cto sympathize and join them in their struggles¨Cbecause there was a part of him that could never be fully understood.


    And as that revelation dawned on me, I felt a small piece of my heart crack. I¡¯d convinced myself that I could fully know this man in front of me¨Cthat I could logic and reason out all the depths of his soul and keep it for myself. But as I finally grasped that there was some part of him that I wouldn¡¯t ever be able to truly know, I felt a strange sense of grief in my chest.


    I leaned against Toren¡¯s sturdy body, slumping much in the same way he had as I rested my head against his shoulder. He smelt of hickory fires and morning dewdrops, and the sensation of him made the sleepy caress of the alcohol in my veins seem ever stronger. The act seemed to startle the young man, his body tensing as I allowed myself to truly use him as a support.


    ¡°Toren,¡± I said, my eyes closed as I allowed myself to drift closer to sleep, ¡°tell me of your previous world.¡±


    The light was low enough that, if I had allowed my lids to open, I knew the only thing I would see would be Toren¡¯s glowing eyes.


    Toren didn¡¯t respond at first. I squeezed my eyes shut harder, feeling my head swim beneath the darkness. ¡°Please,¡± I asked quietly. ¡°You once said you wanted to understand me. I¨C¡± My breathing hitched, and my body trembled slightly. ¡°Give me a chance to understand, too.¡±


    Toren wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his fingers tentatively squeezing the soft skin of my arm. I could not see him do it, but I could feel it, like a million goosebumps trailing their way through my veins. ¡°You no doubt saw the steamships in the bay of Aedelgard as they were slowly built up for this continent¡¯s fleet. An entire mechanism powered by nothing but boiling water and a heaping of coal¡­¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± I said softly, shifting so that I was more comfortable as I nuzzled against Toren¡¯s side. I pulled my knees in closer, savoring the warmth as I adjusted myself. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake, the low light and the effects of the drink compelling me toward welcoming slumber. Yet I refused to fall prey to such a trap; not while this moment remained so poignant in the depths of my mind. ¡°I found them fascinating. I spent days picking apart the design, trying to find new ways to use the idea.¡±


    Toren chuckled. ¡°Imagine a world filled to the brim with wonders beyond even that,¡± he said, his voice taut with quiet longing. ¡°Where man had conquered the earth, sea, and sky in equal measure. The drive of human progress was boundless; unshackled by the whims of deities intent on holding us down.¡±


    ¡°Earth, sea, and sky¡­¡± I said slowly, saying the words as they appeared in my mind. No rigid filter of Scythe Seris stayed my words. No simmering terror of retribution from the powers on high kept my emotions chained. ¡°That sounds sad. There would be nothing left to explore.¡±


    Toren went quiet, and for a moment I feared I had somehow ruined this precious moment; that I¡¯d thrust a dagger into the heart of our conversation. But when he spoke again, his words were sly and teasing. ¡°Do you remember that night on the balcony so many months ago, in the wake of the Denoir Ball? Where we spoke of the enormity of all before us, and how truly small we were in the cosmos?¡±


    I felt a quiet flush work up to my cheeks as I recalled that night. That night beneath the moonlit stars was the first instance when I¡¯d truly recognized that the emotions churning in my chest were no longer under control. I¡¯d fooled myself into believing that everything was in the palm of my hand, as it always had been whenever I maneuvered as Renea Shorn.


    I had been so very wrong.


    ¡°I remember you telling me the true distance we were from our sun,¡± I said. ¡°And I remember your monologue about the stars.¡±


    And how his eyes had danced, even when saying how utterly insignificant we were. I remembered thinking how strange that was. And strange was intriguing.


    ¡°Now I want you to take a wild guess,¡± Toren said, ¡°on how I knew so much about space beyond. I was no engineer, my dear Scythe, but what would it mean if such knowledge was so common?¡±


    It took my tired mind a moment to connect the threads of our earlier conversation to this new divergence. Where the implications of having scoured an entire planet would leave mankind.


    ¡°No,¡± I said in immediate denial, opening my eyes and staring up at Toren. ¡°No, that¡¯s impossible. You said yourself how vast space was. How impossible the distances were, but¡­¡±


    I couldn¡¯t see much past Toren¡¯s glimmering eyes, but from how they squinted, I got the distinct sense he was smiling. ¡°We put a man on our moon, Seris,¡± Toren said with a teasing voice. ¡°Several, actually, and delivered them safely home. And that was when our capabilities as a species were a fraction of what they eventually became.¡±


    He had to be lying to me. Had to be slipping some falsehood into this narrative, because there was absolutely no way that a man could ever set foot on the moon.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t have any sort of energy to speak of,¡± Toren said, his words settling into my mind. ¡°Only the strength of unads, the power of lightning bent to our technological whims, and a whole lot of grit.¡±


    ¡°You are not lying to me, are you, Toren?¡± I asked at last. Normally when he tried to lie to me, his shoulders would tense ever-so-slightly. His eyes would unfocus slightly, and his characteristic, annoying smirk would pull a little at the edges.


    But I could hear the slow pulse of his heartbeat, too. He was telling me the truth.


    ¡°You would be surprised what we people can do when we want something done,¡± the young man said quietly. ¡°I feel like mana hampers the progress of this world as much as it helps. Does that sound strange, going to the moon?¡±


    ¡°It sounds absurd,¡± I whispered to myself, still struggling to try and conceptualize how it could even be possible. Toren sighed in quiet longing, his fingers lightly massaging my arm. We both fell into distant thoughts about these revelations.


    The moon was so far away. And as far as the Vritra¡¯s scientists were aware, there wasn¡¯t even an atmosphere on that rock. Did that mean that these moonwalkers took the atmosphere with them?


    But how? I wondered, my puzzle-solving, Vritra-blooded scientist¡¯s brain trying to reconcile this all. Without mana, how could they be anything?


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t all perfect,¡± Toren admitted somberly as I struggled to try and make sense of his earlier revelation. ¡°I¡¯m talking like everything was amazing and fine and great. But¡­ Just like in this world, we had our fair share of corrupt politicians and greedy men and barriers to progress.¡±


    I blinked tiredly as I rested my head back on Toren¡¯s shoulder, deciding not to allow myself to spiral down the infinite expanse of questions his words had brought. ¡°I imagine that the trappings of kings and queens would always lead to strife and pain, no matter the world,¡± I replied quietly, immersing myself in his strong heartbeat beneath my ear.


    ¡°We left kings and queens behind a long time ago,¡± Toren said with an amused snort. He became more wordy and grandiose as the alcohol hit his system, I realized. His tongue truly was loose. ¡°Authoritarian power structures are wildly unstable and heavily prone to collapse. Progress can¡¯t be made if the needs of the uttermost few are all that are accounted for.¡±


    My thoughts snagged on this latest statement like an effervescent itch in the back of my mind. ¡°If you didn¡¯t have kings and queens,¡± I asked, feeling genuine curiosity, ¡°then how did you maintain order? How did you keep everything running smoothly? Surely, you didn¡¯t just leave everyone to their own devices.¡±


    ¡°That much is true,¡± Toren granted. ¡°Most countries had some form of representative system, or something close to it. Like democracy.¡±


    ¡°What¡­ What do you mean?¡± I asked, chasing that itch in the back of my mind. ¡°How can any people rule themselves without a monarch?¡±


    Toren coughed slightly, shifting so he was holding me a bit tighter as he maneuvered into a more comfortable position. He leaned against the back of the sofa, his body relaxing in turn. ¡°Well, the people chose how they wanted to be ruled,¡± he said simply. ¡°Politicians were voted into positions with a multitude of checks and balances that work to ensure the continued benefit of everyone. It wasn¡¯t perfect, of course. I mean, there¡¯s always room for human failure in those kinds of things, Seris, but¡­ It was better than here.¡±


    My breath slowed as Toren¡¯s words kissed my ear like sweet honey. Whether it be the effect of the wine in my stomach or the deepest of my desires being chipped away, I found myself unable to speak as a lump formed in the depths of my throat.


    It¡­ It was real. Something like this, where people could live for themselves, just like in my dreams¨Ca world where humanity made decisions for themselves, without the finger of something bigger pushing them about. A world where every failure, every shortcoming, and every evil committed was entirely human failure. Human shortcomings, and human evil.


    A world where every triumph was born from the depths of a person¡¯s passion and collective effort, not because some¡­ asura demanded it so. Where man sought the stars as their next plateau, not because monsters with pale, gray skin and malevolent red eyes ordered them to. But because they could. Because there was nothing that would bar their way.


    Because they were free.


    I trembled slightly. And Toren sensed it, of course. ¡°Seris, are you okay?¡±


    I opened my eyes, the weight of everything Toren had just said filling my mind with relief. With resolve. That what I worked for was possible, because somewhere in the infinite expanse of the cosmos, it had already been done.


    It was idealistic. Foolish. Emotional. Beyond the pale of logic, that such a thing might be possible in this world. But Toren made it all feel so real. He made it all feel so possible.


    I shifted, raising my hand so that it caressed Toren¡¯s face. His burning eyes held mine, and though I could see nothing else, I knew where I needed to go.


    I pressed my lips to Toren¡¯s, kissing him softly. The mesh of our lips lasted for what felt like an eternity and a single, fleeting moment all at once as I finally gave into that desire I¡¯d held for so very long.


    Far too soon, I forced myself to pull away, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as my limbs felt weak as jelly. ¡°You have given me something wonderful tonight,¡± I said softly, and I was surprised to find that my voice did not shake nearly as much as I expected. My hand caressed Toren¡¯s cheek. I could not see it, but the tactile sensation grounded me in a way few things ever had. ¡°Something so, so beautiful, Toren Daen.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ve given you,¡± he said, and his voice was almost sorrowful. ¡°Tell me, Seris. Please.¡±


    I moved back to where I had been before, curling up against Toren¡¯s sturdy form as a cat lounged around a fire. ¡°You showed me what was possible,¡± I said after a moment, feeling more than content. ¡°And that is a gift beyond any I have ever received.¡±


    As I slowly succumbed to the call of slumber, tomorrow¡¯s plans rumbled haphazardly through my mind. I would have to sort out Wolfrum¡¯s betrayal. And¡­ And then I needed to attend a parlay with Olfred and the Dicathians. There was the Aurora Constellate nearing, too. After that¡­


    After that, there was so much more work to be done. But as the welcoming abyss of sleep finally drowned out all other sounds as I lost myself in Toren¡¯s embrace, there was a foreign emotion that underlaid it all.


    Hope.

 Chapter 215: Exchange of Words

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    I rarely slept. As a white core mage with the blood of the Vritra strong in my veins, the needs of the common person were well beyond me. I could forgo the draw of slumber for days on end without negative repercussions, only requiring a mental reset after significant stressors.


    But beyond the physiological reasons why I avoided sleep, there was one that superseded them all. When one slept, they were at their weakest. Their most truly vulnerable; where any attempt on their person would be met with nothing but success. I¡¯d slain more than a few of my enemies as they slumbered in their beds, thinking themselves safe from all retribution in their dreams. But a simple drip of poison in their veins as they dreamt would herald the end of all dreams.


    And so as I gradually awoke, I found myself momentarily confused and disoriented. I had been¡­ sleeping? My thoughts flowed exceptionally slowly for some reason, which garnered quiet ire in my gut. As far as I could recall, tonight was not supposed to be a night where I slept¨CI kept to a strict alternating schedule of sleep that would look random and chaotic from the outside, and as far as I was aware, my next date should have been in three days.


    The second thing I noticed was the sensation of someone¡¯s arm around my body, clutching me and holding me tight. In any other circumstance, my reaction would be violent. I¡¯d tear the offender¡¯s arm from their socket for daring to touch a Scythe as she slept, for violating the sanctity of her rest.


    But for some reason¡­ for some reason, I didn¡¯t do such. My slowly moving thoughts struggled to formulate a reason why I was so¡­. content.


    I finally opened my eyes.


    Toren Daen lay beside me in his own stupor of slumber, his head leaning against the back of the chaise lounge in my private rooms. His golden-red hair had escaped its tail, leaving it to splay across the back of the couch like a stream of honey. His breathing was remarkably steady as he slept, both of his arms wrapping me in a protective embrace.


    And I remembered.


    The events of last night flowed back into my mind as if a dam had broken. Knowledge of the Legacy, of Toren¡¯s secret bond. Of another world and all that it contained. I remembered his story of what a world without asura could look like. I remembered what it could bring to humanity.


    And I remembered pressing my lips to his, claiming him twice over. The impossibly sweet taste of his flesh and rush of his heart as his pulse raced beneath my hands. How the moment had stretched into infinity as if touched by a dragon¡¯s aevum arts.


    I needed to move. To get on with the myriad tasks that were part of my duties as Scythe. I needed to appraise the situation with Wolfrum. I had a meeting with the Triunion Council alongside Olfred Warend, and then I needed to shift my plans to account for Toren¡¯s revelations. The reality of these anchor points weighed heavily on my mind.


    But no matter how much I told myself these things, I could not find the will to move. The room was still dim, and Toren¡¯s steady breathing and strong arms made part of me unravel in quiet bliss. I imagined this was what a razor grimalkin felt as they nestled around a fire, their claws retracted. If I weren¡¯t careful, I would fall right back to sleep.


    You have ruined me, my Spellsong, I thought, not unhappily. Soon, I will forgo all my duties just to feel the warmth of your touch. Nearly a century of precedent was overturned in less than a year.


    I sighed, the sound deep and resigned. Then I pushed against Toren¡¯s arms, gently extracting myself from him. My movements were careful, recognizing the man¡¯s need for slumber. I ran my fingers along the scars on the backs of his hands as I crossed them over his lap.


    His fingers twitched and tensed, the last scion of Named Blood Daen seeming to sense the lack of my presence. His face twisted slightly, an expression of what I could almost call worry creasing there.


    ¡°So honest,¡± I said in a low whisper, running my fingers over his cheek, ¡°even as you sleep.¡±


    I floated away from the sofa, watching Toren sleep with a fond eye as I finally resolved myself to take care of my duties.


    His aether arts would be useful, I thought absently. I don¡¯t understand them. Not yet, of course¨Cbut with enough time to pick him apart, like I had been¨C


    I halted in the air, my brows furrowing as they snagged on this strange thought. I shouldn¡¯t think such things. Why was I thinking it?


    The answer was easy enough to find. It was insidious, the way it slithered out without my attention, but my basilisk blood had managed to unravel the mental prison I¡¯d made for it. Usually, it would be more subtle


    in how it influenced my mind and thoughts. But there was something about Toren¡¯s blood; his light that made it easier to sense and dissect.


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to mentally reassert full control. I exhaled a breath, still looking down at Toren as I crossed my arms over my stomach.


    Always wanting to push and prod for more knowledge, I thought with annoyance and repressed memories. At whatever means necessary. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the wake of my disastrous attempt to shut¡­ this between Toren and me down, I¡¯d realized something important. I¡¯d realized how obvious those mental influences became under his presence. Like a spot of deep, black ink on a pale canvas, it was simple to find the place I had slipped.


    I¡¯d been treating this as a bad thing. A detriment that would lead to my downfall. But as I thought about it more, I realized that this was an opportunity.


    You are the secret, Toren, I thought, still watching him. You will be what finally breaks the song of my blood. I can destroy it.


    ¡°He trusts you,¡± a melodic voice said from behind me, ¡°more than nearly any other. But I do not.¡±


    I turned slowly in the air, feeling my throat clench at the familiar tone. The relic of the ancient mages stared back at me, perched on a nearby dresser as its burning eyes peeled apart my layers.


    Unconsciously, my eyes darted toward where Toren still rested, wondering if¨C


    ¡°Toren will not wake for anything less than a thunderclap, Scythe,¡± the phoenix said, its bronze beak moving slightly. ¡°His body is barely past a state of breakdown from the efforts of his fights.¡±


    The phoenix. I¡¯d almost let this kernel of knowledge slip from the recesses of my mind, the gravity of everything else crowding out this not-insubstantial truth.


    ¡°Lady Dawn,¡± I said, bowing respectfully as I internally recounted everything I¡¯d learned of this phoenix in my own research. She had been part of a renegade faction of asura based somewhere in the depths of the Beast Glades. A wild card against both Epheotus and Alacrya. ¡°I did not anticipate your intervention in this war.¡±


    And as I remembered the interactions of last night, I had initially treated the existence of this phoenix as a detriment. A dangerous variable that could ruin everything I worked to achieve, just like how my blood resurged in Toren¡¯s presence. I¡¯d thought of my contingencies against the asura: namely, a project deep in the bowels of my estate in Sandaerene commissioned by Sovereign Orlaeth himself, and a prototype hidden deep in my dimension ring. But in truth, this was an opportunity, just like Toren was. If I could work them into my plans as some sort of ally, with her connections to¨C


    ¡°Your eyes,¡± the phoenix said, cocking its head. ¡°They are Agrona¡¯s.¡±


    My thoughts stuttered, then ground to a halt as I shifted in the air. I felt my composure crack at the words uttered by the relic.


    ¡°I saw such the moment you met Toren, Scythe. The darkness you carry; the lessons you¡¯ve learned,¡± Lady Dawn said. ¡°I warned him against courting you as a mate many times. As you shifted him like a pawn across Alacrya, I was at his shoulder, telling him of the dangers you represented. And I could see it again not a moment ago. When you laid eyes on me, you schemed. You wondered how I could be of use to you.¡± Those knowing eyes brightened, banishing the darkness in the room.


    I felt small. Exposed, just as I had been so many years ago as a young girl in the depths of Taegrin Caelum. I ground my teeth as I stared silently down at the relic, contemplating my next move.


    ¡°But I know now that such is not the full picture, Lady Seris,¡± the construct of ancient bronze said. ¡°Toren saw something in you that I could not. He pierced your darkness, unearthed the gold beneath it all. He understood a part of you that I could not fathom. And now his heart is bound to you such that I can have no say in what actions he takes.¡±


    The little relic turned its burning eyes towards the sleeping mage once more. ¡°It was I who pushed my bond to reveal my existence to you in the wake of what he saw within that dimension ring. Because we both know you can never, ever afford to hurt him now. Not with what I offer.¡± The phoenix glared silent suns at me. ¡°I know how you think, Scythe.¡±


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    I forced a slight smile onto my face, looking through the phoenix¡¯s words for some sort of anchoring presence so that I could tear them down. ¡°Oh? And how do I think?¡±


    The relic fluttered its wings, intentionally drawing out the silence as it looked me up and down.


    ¡°Toren is your avenue to something greater in your little resistance, beyond what you want to make of him in Darv and Sehz-Clar,¡± the relic said darkly. ¡°Because I


    am an avenue to something greater. And if you do anything to hurt him, then you will never see that path open to you.¡±


    The Asclepius Clan, I thought, unnerved by how much the phoenix saw of me. She is cunning.


    I exhaled, my eyes drifting to Toren¡¯s unconscious body as I considered my words. ¡°You care for him,¡± I said at last. ¡°Truly. Deeply.¡±


    ¡°He is my son,¡± the construct said. ¡°And in turn, I am his mother. Do you know what this means, Lady Seris?¡±


    My face dipped into an expression of confusion. The idea that an asura could care for a lesser¨Cthat they would call a human mage son¨Cmade something in my core shift. The asura were brash, arrogant monsters. Yet this Lady Dawn seemed to be the exact opposite. It was an interesting experience.


    ¡°You will have to enlighten me on what you imply.¡±


    ¡°You have taught Toren the necessity of sacrifice, Seris Vritra,¡± Lady Dawn said, ruffling those metallic feathers. ¡°And because of this, he has dedicated his heart to you and your cause. But make no mistake: there are limits to what can¨Cwhat should¨Cbe sacrificed. And should any of your machinations and schemes put Toren in harm¡¯s way, know that no plan, stratagem, or idea will keep my talons from your throat.¡±


    There are limits to what should be sacrificed.


    I exhaled through my nose, my posture ironing out as the phoenix¡¯s threat washed over me. ¡°Do not assume me so shallow, Lady Dawn,¡± I found myself replying with surprising vigor, a grasping anger fighting its way into my voice. ¡°I do not give up what is mine so easily. I do not sacrifice needlessly. I do not taint the minds of those beneath me because I can. I do not look upon the lives under my care and call them lesser.¡±


    I took a deep breath, staring down the presumptuous asura. ¡°I am not Agrona.¡±


    Perhaps one day, I would believe those words.


    ¡ª


    I strode from my personal chambers not long after, my sense of earlier contentment coated in a bronze, burning hue and lurking shadow. The phoenix had opted to watch over Toren¡¯s body like a sentinel, but no more words had been shared between us.


    My personal study was much brighter than my bedroom. Sconces along the walls cast the jagged rock in shadows that writhed and twisted with my passing. I strode directly toward the central desk, which was actually a slab of molten stone that had been molded into the shape of a table before finally cooling.


    And as I had demanded, an ordered report laid neatly on top of the desk. The ink title announced it as a summation of all my intelligence forces knew of Wolfrum¡¯s actions in the past few weeks.


    I pulled back my seat, sinking into the leather as I scanned over the document. I aimed to use this familiar action to ground myself more, to settle my nerves. Yet what was reported to me unnerved me even more.


    It appeared that Wolfrum¡¯s actions had been more spur-of-the-moment. He¡¯d visited Toren in his cell moments before departing to meet with Jordan Redwater and stealing away the tempus warp I¡¯d been assigned. It was simple to connect the dots of what happened after. Toren had broken free of his shackles, then pursued Wolfrum right to the spot I¡¯d found him.


    And Wolfrum had escaped. Presumably into the Beast Glades, but he¡¯d been deprived of¨C


    My thoughts were interrupted by a ringing from one of my communication artifacts. I set the papers down on my desk, then withdrew the spherical object from my dimension ring.


    The priority was marked as urgent, and from the incoming line, I knew it must be Cylrit on the other end.


    My mind immediately jumped to the Bastards Victorious and what trouble they could have caused my Retainer. I felt a swell of additional anger and irritation as I realized that my problems may not yet be over.


    I imbued a sliver of mana into the device, answering the communication. Cylrit¡¯s rich baritone radiated out not a moment later.


    ¡°My Scythe,¡± he said, ever respectful of my station. ¡°I have urgent news to report.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°Speak, Cylrit. I believe I may know some of what ails you already.¡±


    Cylrit paused, then continued on. The spherical orb in my palm glowed slightly as his words trickled out. ¡°The Bastards Victorious have abandoned their post. As they were one of the linchpins of the assault team¡¯s cohesion in the Beast Glades, their desertion nearly destroyed what semblance of order existed in the wake of Uto¡¯s capture. I have spent the past several hours working to pull everything back together, as you would no doubt desire, but I wished to inform you of this as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°You did not manage to capture the escaping Bastards Victorious?¡± I queried, feeling no small knot of anger in my stomach. If Wolfrum Redwater had informed them of anything, their very existence served as an existential threat to my plans. Even if there was no physical proof to back his words, the very attention and accusation of disloyalty could threaten everything.


    Cylrit must have sensed something in my words, for his tone grew quiet and reserved. ¡°I failed you in this, my Scythe,¡± he said, sounding almost ashamed. ¡°Their flight was too quick and too chaotic to track into the vast expanse of forest. I chose to reestablish order and ensure our operations were still hidden from the native Dicathians rather than risk pursuit.¡± He paused. ¡°What has happened?¡±


    I took time to catalog my thoughts and ensure my next words were crisp and even. ¡°I have been betrayed,¡± I said, and I could almost feel Cylrit¡¯s attention sharpen even over the communication artifact. ¡°A traitor of the highest order attempted to steal information and documents that would serve disastrous to our cause were they to be leaked.¡±


    I left my words open-ended, as always. I knew not if Agrona could access our communication artifacts, but I dared not utter the full truth out loud. Better it be that any potential eavesdroppers believed I spoke of the war with Dicathen.


    But Cylrit knew the true implications of my words.


    ¡°Attempted?¡± he questioned, his voice tense like a bowstring. ¡°No, it could not be¡­ It does not make sense. Spellsong? But¨C¡±


    ¡°It was not Spellsong,¡± I said quickly. Cylrit knew of Toren¡¯s recent imprisonment, of course. It made sense that his first avenue of thought would be the last scion of Blood Daen. ¡°In fact, it was only because of Toren that the situation became salvageable at all. Wolfrum Redwater attempted to steal away with confidential information, but it was Spellsong who stole back such evidence. Though Wolfrum likely escaped into the Beast Glades, which lines up with the flight of the Bastards Victorious.¡±


    The line was quiet for a long time. I had the sense that my steadfast Retainer was attempting to pull all the pieces together, much as I had taught him.


    ¡°I have failed you, my Scythe,¡± he said at last, his voice notably somber. ¡°In allowing Wolfrum Redwater to reach the Beast Glades and run loose past our net, I have endangered everything. I find solace, at least, in the fact that¡­ that Spellsong did not fail.¡±


    There was an almost palpable grief that suffused the words he uttered last, a grief I didn¡¯t understand. Part of me felt it was connected to the strange tension always present between the men closest to me in my life, but¡­


    My brow furrowed as I tried to think of what I could say to alleviate my Retainer¡¯s worries. He had always been a sturdy pillar of unwavering support, and though I rarely expressed such, now I recognized that perhaps I should have.


    What would Toren say? I asked myself. How does one assuage grief?


    ¡°You did not fail me, Cylrit,¡± I finally said. ¡°Wolfrum and the remaining Bastards Victorious cannot skulk in the Beast Glades much longer. They will run low on supplies eventually, and if they desire any chance of escaping this continent alive, then they must slip past not just Dicathians but their own kin,¡± I said, trying to work from this angle logically.


    My words seemed to buoy my Retainer¡¯s mood at least. ¡°I will make finding them a top priority.¡±


    I nodded, my thoughts already shifting. ¡°It will be made known soon that Toren¡¯s original imprisonment was a result of Wolfrum¡¯s betrayal,¡± I said, seeing how I could twist this situation to my advantage. ¡°Our troops will be informed that Toren¡¯s breach of protocol was from a perceived order from me passed down by ¡®Xander.¡¯ Wolfrum likely did this as an attempt to remove a troublesome variable that might interfere in his eventual plans,¡° I said, an amused smile splitting my face. ¡°He was right, after all.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s response was tentative. ¡°In confidence, my Scythe,¡± he started, formal as ever, ¡°was Spellsong¡¯s incursion toward Lance Godspell instigated by Wolfrum in truth?¡±


    ¡°The truth can be whatever we need it to be,¡± I said, feeling a bit of that simmering warmth return to my veins as I thought of Toren. Like honey left to warm in the golden rays of summer, my blood flowed at a paradoxically fast and slow pace all at once as the memory of his lips flitted through my thoughts. ¡°But Spellsong will be released, Cylrit. He has become¡­¡±


    I trailed off as I struggled to put a word to what Toren truly was. I¡¯d long since determined him invaluable to my plans, especially in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion, but¡­


    ¡°He has become close to your heart. Beyond just your designs,¡± Cylrit¡¯s voice echoed from the communication artifact.


    As my Retainer¡¯s words reached my ear, I recognized the truth of them. The hope Toren had instilled in my core¨Cthat priceless hope¨Ccolored my vision in shades of purple and orange. And now, everywhere I looked, I could not help but find my thoughts drifting back to him.


    ¡°Why do you assume such?¡± I asked instead, savoring Cylrit¡¯s voice. It served to focus me, to help me think in the ways necessary of my station. While I found myself relaxed and free in Toren¡¯s embrace, my Retainer¡¯s firm resolve cemented my status as Scythe.


    ¡°I can hear it in your voice, Seris,¡± Cylrit said at last, his air of protocol cracking under some unseen burden. ¡°When you speak of Spellsong, you are graceful; free in a way I have not seen¨Clike a songbird that has finally remembered to sing. And such emotions only appear to grow as time passes.¡±


    I blinked, opening my mouth in surprise. Was I that transparent? Did my masks fall that much that they were discernible?


    A silence stretched in the wake of Cylrit¡¯s words, a silence cold as seawater and expansive as the ocean. I struggled to find a response, my analytical thoughts spinning uselessly in my mind.


    ¡°I am glad that you are able to express yourself with him,¡± Cylrit continued. ¡°It is in my opinion, my Scythe, that you have suppressed yourself for far too long, burning yourself away for the sake of your plans. It is good that you have found a way to be free of your chains. He is good for you.¡±


    I swallowed. What did one say in response to such things? How was a Scythe supposed to respond?


    No, I realized, that spark of dawn in my chest reasserting itself. No, how should Seris respond?


    ¡°Thank you, Cylrit,¡± I said, the words far from foreign, but the emotion held within was deeper than any sky. ¡°It means more than you could know.¡±


    ¡°It is my duty to serve,¡± Cylrit said, his formal manner of speech slowly sealing back over his cracks of vulnerability. ¡°And it always shall be.¡±

 Chapter 216: Exchange of Prisoners

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Olfred Warend


    The Grand Mountains deserved their name. The greatest of them surged miles into the sky like outstretched fingers seeking to touch the clouds, caressing the soft underbelly of the atmosphere.


    But today, they cast a shadow nearly as long as they were tall.


    I stood on a large platform of raised earth along the border of Darv, the west-blowing winds whipping sand at me like a million biting flies. My magic kept me safe from the sting of the irritable weather, my mana barrier and innate sense for earth mana warding of the hornet swarm of pebbles that sought to weather me to dust.


    This was a rather mild Darvish wind. As close as we were to the Grand Mountains, most of the strength of the weather¨Cthe strength that forced the dwarves to build their homes in the deep caverns and expansive rock of the earth¨Cwas weakened by distance and time.


    But even if the hate of Darvish air couldn¡¯t break through my magic, I still felt a simmering dread. Perhaps the Grand Mountains¡¯ shadow may have chilled my bones, but the claw of ice around my soul was from an entirely different source.


    Scythe Seris Vritra lounged comfortably behind me, a separate pillar supporting the monster as she crossed her legs. The way her aura quietly suffused the air made the hairs on my arms stand on end.


    I grit my teeth, forcing the witch from my mind. I had more pressing concerns. Even if my every action was monitored by this monster, that didn¡¯t change the objective.


    Not long ago, I¡¯d used some of my old contacts to send a message to the Triunion Council demanding parlay. They¡¯d accepted, of course. They couldn¡¯t afford not to; not after the recent capture of Burim and Toren¡¯s clash with Lance Arthur.


    I was dressed to impress. My attire, while rugged, was of the Darvish military style, accentuating the width of my body. The symbol of the rebellion¨Ca cracked geode that bled sand¨Cstood prominently on my shoulders.


    I¡¯d taken command of the rebellion in the wake of my freedom, recognizing that only I could spare my father from the grip of the Triunion. Despite the aftermath and the boggling circumstances of the event, I would never be able to fully repay Toren Daen for granting me freedom.


    And it all came down to this.


    I sensed as the representatives of the Council neared well before I could see them. The ambient mana warped and twisted as another massive pillar of earth slowly rose into the sky, familiar figures staring out from the center.


    Commander Virion was at the forefront, of course. It was only his iron leadership that kept the Dicathians from fracturing into a million pieces and bickering among themselves. The old elf bore a determined expression in the wizened lines of his face, his martial robes neat and tidy in a way that told me he was prepared for war.


    Not far behind the commander, Blaine Glayder stood tall. The middle-aged former king was a large man, even by the standards of mages, and he might have appeared impressive if not for the angry exhaustion that seemed to radiate from his very pores. His eyes still flashed with fire as they saw me, though, quietly accusing. Assuming.


    Lance Varay stood ramrod straight at Councilman Glayder¡¯s left, the picture of icy poise as she maintained protocol. The buffeting winds that reached her visibly crystallized and condensed, slowed and stopped by her aura alone.


    She only spared me a single, apathetic glance before focusing solely on the Scythe behind me, already dismissing me as a threat.


    Bairon Wykes¡¯ eyes mocked me, belittled me. In his face I saw disdain and arrogance that only made my mana core churn faster. The human Lance had always been a stain on what it meant to be loyal.


    But the last person to appear¡­ They finally made my resolve waver, my emotions disrupted by a wave of quiet guilt.


    Mica Earthborn glared at me, her eyes hotter than any magma I could create. It was her magic that had raised the Council¡¯s platform, and it was her magic that made it rise higher than my own in an act of quiet defiance.


    There was a tense, overwhelming silence as the howling Darvish winds carried their chips of stone and angry sand, screaming with mute fury.


    ¡°I knew a meeting was coming,¡± Virion Eralith finally said, his voice traveling unnaturally far through the winds, ¡°but I think we both agree that this is a very poor location for it.¡±


    I disagreed. The air above Darv was rough and uncomfortable, and too long had the Council been content to sit pretty in their chairs and dictate the war. I felt a pinch of satisfaction at Blaine Glayder¡¯s struggle to stay upright against the buffeting winds. ¡°Considering what territory we hold, Commander Virion, there was no other place that would work,¡± I said in a grunting reply. ¡°And getting out of your stuffy castle is good for you now and again,¡± I added, unable to resist the jab.


    Virion, of course, shrugged off my words without effect. ¡°We are here to parlay, as demanded,¡± he said, stepping forward. ¡°But before us, I see both a former Lance and a Scythe. It is unclear to us who we are parlaying with. Seris Vritra, I presume?¡± the elder elf said, his eyes sharp as a knife.


    The attention of Virion and his cohorts shifted to the demure Scythe behind me, who was making a show of nonchalantly clicking her nails together as she inspected them with a casual air. Even as the winds of the southern country tried to break her down, not a single silver strand of hair shifted on her head. Her dress did not flutter; her eyes did not squint to protect from the wind. It was as if the weather simply stopped when it reached her.


    The Scythe let the uncomfortable silence stretch like a man being pulled in too many directions, his arms and legs twisting and being wrenched from their sockets. Only when the proverbial man¡¯s limbs were at risk of being torn from him did she finally speak.


    ¡°You presume correct, Virion Eralith,¡± she said in a smooth, cool voice. ¡°I am Seris Vritra, Scythe of Sehz-Clar and leader of Alacryan forces in this war. But that is not why I am here today.¡±


    For the first time, the Scythe graced the opposing party with her attention. Bairon shifted his stance, appearing ready to lash out at her already as lightning popped around his hands. Varay¡¯s eyes narrowed only slightly, and though I could see no ice appear around her, I knew for fact that it would in record time if she sensed a threat.


    Yet Mica¡¯s glare remained focused on me.


    ¡°I¡¯m an observer, Commander Virion, here to ensure that all protocols are met and respected. Do not mind me. Olfred Warend has more than enough to say without my interjection,¡± the Scythe finished, tilting her head in a way that made her seem almost regal.


    ¡°An observer,¡± Blaine spat, surging upward like a world lion provoked with a stick, ¡°You mean to say that you haven¡¯t co-opted this dwarven rebellion for your own covert plans, Scythe? Come up with a better lie than that. You should start taking us seriously, witch.¡±


    I summoned my mana, calling it around me the moment the foolish human king uttered the last word. I braced like a man in a hurricane as the eye wall loomed, readying myself for hell and high water. My teeth ground together like cracking boulders. I clenched my fists at my sides as I prepared for what was coming.


    Only a single thought managed to course through my head. He shouldn¡¯t have called that monster a witch.


    And then the Scythe¡¯s aura expanded. She had kept it impossibly contained earlier, to a point where I couldn¡¯t even make out a trace of it. Her mana was coiled tight deep within her core, leaving only her falsely attractive exterior.


    But this was a Scythe. This was one of Agrona Vritra¡¯s trained killers, born of horrid inbreeding and dark experimentation. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When the aura rushed past me, I was prepared. My muscles locked up and my teeth creaked from how they gnashed together, but I didn¡¯t fall. I didn¡¯t break.


    Blaine stumbled backward, his eyes bugging out of his sockets as the tidal wave struck. Bairon nearly tripped as well, muttering a curse as his face drained of color. And though Varay Aurae showed barely a twitch in her expression, the way her mouth parted and her fingers trembled might as well have been a scream of terror.


    Virion seemed impossibly unfazed by the wave, and it took a moment for me to realize why. As a man hunkers in the eye of a storm, he had been spared the brutish force of the Scythe¡¯s uncontained mana. Yet he didn¡¯t act, his eyes narrowing and his fists clenching as he waited for the woman to speak.


    But Mica had been watching me. As I¡¯d braced, so too did the dwarven Lance. Still, her eyes bored holes into my chest as she waited out the storm.


    ¡°I take you precisely as seriously as is necessary,¡± she said coolly, her eyes pinning Blaine to the ground like a bug. ¡°Ask your Lances, Councilman Glayder, if they believe they have the slightest chance of disrupting the rules of negotiation today.¡±


    Varay simply set a single hand on Blaine¡¯s shoulder, conveying a silent message.


    Scythe Seris¡¯ aura winked out as if it had never existed, retreating back into her body. ¡°If I am needed, I will speak. But this is Olfred Warend¡¯s negotiation, not mine. Speak with him if you wish to make progress,¡± she said simply, as if she hadn¡¯t just made Bairon and Varay¡¯s lives flash before their eyes with a bare flex of her power.


    Then she went back to inspecting her nails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.


    It took a surge of effort to rein my adrenaline back under control. I was no political mind, and I knew there was some sort of significance¨Csome sort of planned action¨Cin what the Scythe had just done, but it was beyond me to pick it apart.


    ¡°You will relinquish Elder Rahdeas to me,¡± I said, my voice strong despite my inner fears. ¡°That is what I demand today.¡±


    Virion¡¯s eyes narrowed with an emotion I couldn¡¯t pinpoint across the gap between our earthen pillars. ¡°That is what you called this meeting to demand?¡± he questioned. ¡°That is all?¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, opened it to say that yes, it was the exact reason I¡¯d pushed for a meeting in the first place.


    But someone else spoke first. Mica¡¯s childlike voice echoed out, but the anger and enmity radiating from her was anything but that of an innocent girl.


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s all he wants,¡± she said, still glaring at me. ¡°Mica knows this, after all. Oldfred has only ever wanted Elder Rahdeas, regardless of the cost to Darv. Regardless of the lives it takes.¡±


    I should have ignored her. Should have pushed her goading words from my mind. But as they registered with me, I felt my anger grow and surge at her accusation, the use of her old nickname clawing at my mind.


    ¡°Elder Rahdeas is the reason I came here today,¡± I bit out with gritted teeth, feeling my mana roil beneath my skin. ¡°Lives are lost in war, Lance Mica. If you think that will never happen, then maybe you really are exactly how you look. A little girl.¡±


    Mica¡¯s nostrils flared as she shot to her feet, her face morphing into something utterly furious. ¡°That makes it easier for you, doesn¡¯t it?!¡± she yelled. ¡°Mica¡¯s already lost people, Olfred, because you killed them! Don¡¯t talk to Mica about lives lost when you¡¯re doing the killing!¡±


    Of all the things I was expecting out of her mouth¨Cmore insults, maybe a boulder or increased gravity¨Cit was not that.


    ¡°That cute little assault you led, Lance,¡± Mica said, the word mocking and slicing through my skull like bile as she spoke, ¡°my cousins died! Murdered for defending their home while you led the charge.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    And as she said the words, I knew precisely who Mica spoke of. Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn, cousins to the sole remaining dwarven Lance.


    They¡¯d been slain by Toren, and they¡¯d never stood a chance.


    I took a single step backward as Mica¡¯s hate realigned itself in my head. The platform beneath me might have been of solid stone, but in that instant, I was certain I stood on a throne of sand instead.


    ¡°Enough,¡± Virion said sharply, tearing me from my painful realization. ¡°Regardless of what you want, Olfred Warend, we cannot simply release the traitor to you because you demand such. This is war,


    Warend, and Councilor Rahdeas committed treason. Don¡¯t think a single captured city will release him from our grasp.¡±


    I ground my teeth, staring at the old elf. I¡¯d never found him personally terrifying, not as much as I did the Scythe behind me. But as his deep brown eyes simmered, I thought I saw what made the asura respect him so much. The calculating gleam of a man ready to face the hellfire of war and emerge with anything he could hold close.


    And that did scare me.


    ¡°But you agreed to meet,¡± I bit out, forcefully ignoring Mica¡¯s simmering fury. ¡°There must be something that you would be willing to trade. We have hostages; prisoners of war. An exchange would¨C¡±


    ¡°Spellsong¡¯s removal from this war,¡± Virion declared, cutting across my words like a whip. ¡°That is our condition.¡±


    My jaw flexed. I couldn¡¯t complete that demand. If I wanted Rahdeas back, then I needed some other avenue. Something within my control.


    ¡°An amusing proposition,¡± Seris Vritra said languidly, her smooth voice cutting through the silence like her station¡¯s namesake through wheat. ¡°But you would never have reached your current station if you were so prone to making foolish deals.¡±


    ¡°Spellsong is the greatest existential threat your little system of monarchy has ever faced,¡± the Scythe continued casually. ¡°For so many years you¡¯ve been propped up by the Lances at your side, making any rebellion impossible.¡±


    There was a hint of venom in the underlying traces of her tone, her voice cloying at the air like a constricting serpent.


    ¡°In fact,¡± the Vritra spawn said, flicking something from her nails into the wind, ¡°it was only because Councilman Glayder managed to fool his father into passing control of the Lance artifacts down to him that his rebellion was successful in the first place.¡±


    Blaine¡¯s eyes shot open wider than Burim¡¯s caverns. ¡°How did¡­ What?¡± he blustered. ¡°That¡¯s classified information of the highest order! How did you¨C¡±


    ¡°And Spellsong can just¡­¡± The Scythe raised two fingers, miming scissors biting shut. ¡°Cut that all away, can¡¯t he?¡±


    Even on the same pillar as the monster, I felt a chill run down my spine at the ease with which she said the words, with how she casually leveraged her power. And if the pale faces of Mica and Bairon were any indication, the words had settled somewhere deep in their cores.


    And Varay? Varay looked away.


    Seris locked eyes with Commander Virion, and I found myself astounded the old elf did not flinch from the liquid power in her stare. ¡°Spellsong is mine to order, Commander of Dicathen. We both know that your previous offer was a prelude to your true desire. Tell me what it is, and maybe I¡¯ll consider it.¡±


    I blinked, feeling quietly surprised. Virion¡¯s original question wasn¡¯t his true goal?


    The elf nodded slowly. ¡°You see much, Scythe Seris,¡± he grimly acknowledged. ¡°Then I suppose I shouldn¡¯t disrespect what it took for you to reach your station,¡± he returned, and I could not tell if his words were sincere.


    ¡°But while Spellsong is certainly a most valuable asset, we have our own counter to him,¡± the elf said, his eyes flashing. ¡°Remove Spellsong from this war, and Lance Godspell will be kept from battle as well.¡±


    Seris raised a hand to her chin, staring at Virion like he was some sort of interesting bird. ¡°A single Lance unbound by artifacts set to face the Lancebreaker. It is almost poetic.¡± She shook her head. ¡°But no. This is no simple war, Virion Eralith. I act under the command of the Sovereigns, much as your Lances do their artifact holders, and I cannot forsake the advantage I hold over your continent for a measly dwarf.¡±


    ¡°So be it,¡± Virion said through clenched teeth. ¡°Do not deploy Spellsong beyond the territory you hold, and in turn, Lance Arthur will not be sent into Darv. Is that a fair agreement?¡±


    ¡°The territory I hold¡­¡± Seris said, appearing to consider the offer. ¡°This can be arranged. But know this, Commander Eralith,¡± she said, floating off her pedestal for the first time. ¡°If I receive a single report that Lance Godspell is within the border of Darv, I¡¯ll personally escort Toren Daen into the heart of your flying castle.¡±


    She smiled, an expression almost sweet. ¡°After all, you know you¡¯re far from safe even in your greatest stronghold.¡±


    ¡ª


    I felt a strange sort of numbness as time dragged on, each present member watching the Scythe with either fear or wariness. It took nearly twenty minutes before I finally sensed a change in the mana, and I had to restrain myself from moving to the edge of the platform as I felt another rise.


    My hands clenched at my sides as I sensed Rahdeas¡¯ weak mana signature rising. So, so weak.


    I knew in the depths of my soul that whatever the outcome of his imprisonment, my father wouldn¡¯t have been treated gently. A traitor was a traitor, something lesser. I couldn¡¯t blame the Council for whatever they¡¯d done. Both my father and I had understood the risks.


    Yet as I laid eyes on the man who had raised me for the first time in months, I felt my anger rise in tune with the stone. His hair was matted and knotted, grease and grime caking every inch of his body. His single remaining eye was blank and listless, the nails on his fingers gone.


    I might have thrown myself at the Council in that instant, precautions be damned. That warm eye of his was painfully dull. The old dwarf stumbled as he was prodded forward by his captor.


    But even as my mana roiled and I snarled at the injustices done to my father, Mica¡¯s hard expression as she led the shackled man towards me¨Cprotecting him from the sandy wind and the howl of Darv¨Cmade any retaliatory action curdle in my stomach like moon ox milk left in the sun for a day.


    ¡°You traded one life for an entire race,¡± Mica hissed quietly, barely audible over the howl of the wind. ¡°Do you think the Vritra will let us dwarves be their equals? That Rahdeas¡¯ vision will come true?¡±


    Mica stood not far from me, the diminutive child-like dwarf staring at me with an expression that could warp gravity itself.


    ¡°I¡¯ve only ever worked for Rahdeas,¡± I said in response, my voice gravelly as my father slumped nearby, exhausted from his torture. ¡°His vision is not my own, but I take the steps he demands because he is my father.¡±


    ¡°And do you think your father will survive this war?¡± Mica shot back. ¡°You can¡¯t even see it, Oldfred. Throughout the entire meeting, that Scythe played you like a fiddle. She was the one calling the shots. Do you perhaps think that Rahdeas will be any different? The Council isn¡¯t perfect, but at least we treated Rahdeas as an adult. Mica might look like a child, but you were the infant here.¡±


    ¡°Are you done?¡± I said back, hoping the tremor I felt in my chest didn¡¯t reverberate through my voice.


    Mica scoffed. ¡°Mica hopes you don¡¯t live to see the consequences. You would¡¯ve died happier if Aya had succeeded in executing you months ago.¡±


    The dwarf didn¡¯t even spare Seris Vritra a glance as she floated off the rock, turning back toward her group of elves and humans. I barely noticed as Virion threw a set of keys toward the Scythe¨Cno doubt for Rahdeas¡¯ shackles.


    And for the first time, as I stared into Rahdeas¡¯ empty eyes, I felt a knot of uncertainty about my cause blossom like a creeping weed in my core.


    Virion Eralith


    The moment we crossed the border into Sapin and were free of the howling winds, Blaine Glayder unleashed his anger.


    ¡°That meeting was an utter failure,¡± he snapped, his fists clenched at his sides. The maroon-haired man¨Cnow bearing more than a few streaks of gray in his once-fiery mane¨Cvisibly tensed like a wounded lion. ¡°Tell me, Virion, just what was the point of all that? Maybe you managed to pull Spellsong away from most battles, but in turn, you gave away one of our only prisoners. And the way you did it essentially acknowledged the southern parts of Darv as autonomous land. We were both kings once. You know what it means to accede land to an enemy, even in spirit. What precedent it sets for future negotiations!¡±


    I let out a tired sigh, of a sort that was becoming commonplace nowadays. I strode at the forefront of our returning delegation as we finally reached the armed party of elite soldiers kept on standby in case of conflict.


    Not that they would have been much assistance, the poor fools, I thought, remembering as I stared into the dark abyss of Seris Vritra¡¯s power. Arthur had described it to me once, the feeling of staring down a leashed hurricane as a leaf in the air. And while I respected the boy immensely for his power, intellect, and everything else, part of me still hadn¡¯t wanted to believe we were so utterly outclassed.


    But one of the first things I¡¯d learned in war so many decades ago was that I couldn¡¯t let my thoughts linger on one piece of information for too long. That was how madness was born.


    My son and his wife were currently tending to Tessia in our estate in Zestier, having elected to visit her often in the wake of her confrontation with Spellsong. I felt a knot of guilt manifest deep within my core as I thought of Tess¡¯ expression of betrayal as I¡¯d let the Council¡¯s decision go through, but¡­


    I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. Regardless, the only other councilmember on hand that could accompany me to meet with the Scythe had been Blaine, as his wife, Priscilla, was tasked with maintaining regular operations in the castle while we were absent.


    ¡°Rahdeas held practically zero worth as a prisoner after the Darvish rebellion erupted in earnest,¡± I admitted reluctantly. ¡°Maybe he could serve as a solid figurehead to the rebellion, but it¡¯s clear that the fighting would continue with or without him. And any knowledge our information extractors would¡¯ve managed to draw from his lips was pointless as well once it was clear to the rest of the continent we had him in our clutches.¡±


    Rahdeas wasn¡¯t nearly as critical to the dwarven rebellion as we¡¯d at first assumed, and that was likely by the crafty dwarf¡¯s own design. He no doubt expected to be caught eventually, and had severed most ties to the rebellion outside minor contacts. He purposefully avoided being a cornerstone of the cause.


    ¡°But the true gain we made was witnessing Seris Vritra firsthand,¡± I said. ¡°We have the Scythe¡¯s word that Toren Daen won¡¯t participate in battle, yes, but seeing how the Vritra acted today was crucial.¡±


    Blaine looked at me sideways, his brows furrowing in slight irritation. ¡°Why was this so important, Virion? All it did was confirm what we already guessed: that Olfred¨Cthe traitor¨Cis nothing but a puppet for that¡­ that witch.¡± The way he said it, his eyes darting backward for the barest instant, made it seem he was afraid that the Scythe would follow him back here, bend him over, and spank him for daring to say the word again.


    I snorted, feeling a bit of dry humor in the king¡¯s anxiety. I could understand it. ¡°Stop staring back at where the Scythe is,¡± I said, conjuring a wind barrier around us as our large group began making our way back toward Blackbend. ¡°You¡¯ll make her think you want to be taken too if you keep staring back longingly like that.¡±


    Blaine pointedly snapped his gaze back toward the forefront, but not without giving me a covert glare.


    But in truth, speaking with Seris Vritra really had been the most important interaction so far in this war.


    One just needed perspective.


    Arthur had told me in confidence how Scythe Seris had spared him from Uto, leaving the Retainer¡¯s horns for him to use to grow stronger. Afterward, Spellsong¨Cor as his true name was, Toren Daen¨Chad left Aya Grephin alive when he¡¯d held her very life in his hands, claiming that the true war was between asura.


    I¡¯d had an inkling, then, that perhaps this Scythe¡¯s motivations weren¡¯t as simple as those of a rote conqueror. Those suspicions had been further scrambled by the revelation that Seris Vritra bore a personal vendetta against Uto, as Arthur¡¯s visions revealed¨Cwhich called her act of sparing Arthur into question.


    But then¡­ Then, the boy I¡¯d raised for several years with my granddaughter had nearly died in battle. Apparently, Toren Daen had infiltrated Tessia¡¯s squad, intent on something, but Arthur¨Csomehow¨Chad known of this, intercepting the Asclepius hybrid and engaging him in combat.


    And it was only Toren¡¯s healing magic¨Chealing from the very man whom Arthur had nearly killed¨Cthat had allowed him to survive at all. That information wasn¡¯t even known within the Council, only shared with me.


    To add onto it all, when I¡¯d tried to push Tess for the reason why Spellsong had infiltrated, it was Sylvie Indrath¨Cheir to the greatest deities in this world¨Cwho had told me to hold my tongue, only granting that Spellsong¡¯s motivations were virtuous.


    I never thought I¡¯d witness a dragon express fear in my short two hundred and fifty years.


    But if I took all this information and just¡­ shifted my perspective by the slightest margin, then every single word the Scythe uttered seemed to carry a second meaning. Her mocking words of how the Lance artifacts halted rebellion against monarchs, pinning the powerful in place. Add on her comparison of herself as a Lance and Agrona Vritra as an artifact holder, and it started to paint a very different picture of her motivations and goals.


    If I dared to take this understanding, then Seris¡¯ words no longer served as a goading prod at Blaine¡¯s weak ego: they were a subtle message about the chains that bound and drove her actions. No longer were her words on the flying castle¡¯s weaknesses an ominous threat, but a dire warning.


    My mind shifted darkly as I remembered Olivia Goodsky, my long-time friend and rival. Even through the years of the human-elf war so long ago, she¡¯d been a woman I respected.


    And then she¡¯d died from a curse on the mind as she forced herself to reveal Alacryan secrets, right in the heart of Dicathen¡¯s flying castle.


    I couldn¡¯t be certain, of course. Nothing in war was ever certain. If there truly was some sort of restriction placed on Seris Vritra akin to the Lance artifacts, then I might never receive a direct answer. But as I allowed myself to cycle over her words again and again, I realized that this continental divide became even more difficult.


    And if this Seris was truly just a pawn to her Sovereigns, as she might have implied, then that made Toren Daen¡¯s statement to Aya churn in my stomach like festering rot.


    A war between asura indeed, I thought darkly as Blackbend City appeared on the horizon, and we are but cattle for them to butcher.

 Chapter 217: To the Apex

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    A sword could be many, many things. In my previous life, the ways and arts of swordsmanship had been cataloged for thousands of years, exemplifying the variation in the weapon. Katanas were single-edged cutting weapons, designed to cleave in a single, sure strike. Rapiers and sabers operated on similar principles, but they were quick and biting¨Clike a swipe of a talon or the thrust of a finger. A gladius was short, brutish, and easy to use in close quarters when you needed to gut a foe.


    The old hand-and-a-half sword¨Cmy greatest proficiency¨Ccould cut or thrust. It offered amazing flexibility in its ability to be used with either one or two hands, freeing my body for infinitely complex maneuvers that made me a martial god in my past life.


    But all swords had something in common. Despite the innumerable cultures that pit themselves against their neighbors and drew the blood of their fellow man, when they saw a sword, they knew it to be a sword, for one reason alone.


    Swords needed to be sharp. Whether that be along the edge or the point, a weapon was purposeless if it could not draw blood. The greatest of swordmasters would fail to fell a single enemy if their weapon was faulty. No matter how powerful one was, if their steel had never felt the deceptively smooth kiss of a whetstone, they would die.


    And as I threw myself around the practice arena in a barely conscious haze, I wondered how I was a sword. Each thrust and swipe of Dawn¡¯s Ballad trailed a brilliant purple arc that seemed to distort the light itself as I ran through martial forms at a previously impossible pace.


    My body had become a weapon. I was a weapon, the true manifestation of the acclorite in my palm. Yet despite the new heights of strength I felt coursing through my body and how I could move faster than I ever thought possible before, I knew I was dull.


    I cut upward, mirroring a feint toward an invisible foe at speeds only possible with my new, enhanced body. Yet as I sheared through the nonexistent enemy in front of me with precision and power that made wind trail in my wake, their eyes seemed to shift. Becoming glowing, severe suns. I couldn¡¯t help but picture every attack I leveled healing over in a wash of purple and orange.


    Not enough, I thought angrily, my mind a furious blur. Not fast enough. Not sharp enough.


    Toren Daen knew I was a reincarnate. He knew my greatest secret; and from how he¡¯d apparently spoken to Sylvie and¡­ and Tess... And the way his magic functioned¡­ It was too intimate. Too close and understanding. I must have known him in my previous life. So why couldn¡¯t I remember him? Why couldn¡¯t I put a finger to the name?! How could he know so much?!


    I screamed in anger, the phantom vision of Toren Daen staring at me with determination as the mana around me warped and trembled. The mana around me quaked¨Cfire, water, earth and air all echoed my lament. And something else shifted, too¨Con the deepest edges of my perception, I could almost see purple.


    And Cecilia. The idea that Tess¨Cmy childhood friend¨Cwas being prepared to be some sort of vessel for the Legacy made my stomach twist and my teeth clench. If Agrona¡¯s goal was to bring the girl who had committed suicide on my sword¨Cwho had thrown her life away to escape being someone¡¯s tool¨Cinto this world as a pawn, bringing her back to the very thing she¡¯d killed herself to escape¡­


    And as my thoughts struck that one stumbling block, it all became incoherent again; a slurry of questions without answers and questions with answers I wished I didn¡¯t have. And I could do nothing.


    In a spike of fury, I threw my hands forward. Dawn¡¯s Ballad shimmered and vanished in a wave of purple particles as I released the matte-black hilt, the sword phasing off somewhere


    as I released it from its duties. Between my fingers, a bitter wind began to condense and swirl. Ice attribute mana latched onto the twisting vortex between my palms as I forced more and more mana from my core.


    It flowed easily. Far, far easier than it ever had before, the acclorite in my blood facilitating strength and power beyond anything I¡¯d used before. I forced more and more and more from my core till I began to sweat, the condensation of howling ice wind barely contained in my palm. The heart of winter twisted and churned between my palms, nipping at my fingertips with barely contained fury.


    Not enough, I thought. I need to stop Agrona; the Sovereign of Sovereigns. This pathetic display won¡¯t do anything. It won¡¯t even scratch the hems of his robes.


    Those thoughts disrupted my concentration. The spell in my hands, enhanced by the call of the ambient mana and authority within my intent, suddenly twisted as my control wavered. It expandedabruptly, growing into a nova of howling frost that flung me backward in a wave of ice.


    I flew halfway across the training room as the initial explosion made the entire floor shake and tremble, the whipping currents of wind still threatening to push further outward.


    I rolled over my shoulder, settling into stance as my auburn hair escaped from its haphazard knot. A spike of fear pierced through my earlier anger as the nimbus of frost continued to gradually expand, the pressure it emitted making my teeth ache as cold creeped up my arms and slowed my movements.


    If I let that continue to grow, there¡¯s no telling what equipment it will damage in the castle, I thought, remembering Emily¡¯s extensive work and use of these new artifacts. The lights far, far overhead flickered and dimmed as the mana raged at their sockets. I needed to halt the expanding nature of my spell.


    I held my hand out to the side, summoning Dawn¡¯s Ballad. It appeared in a flare of purple, settling into my palm as if it had been made for such. The warmth of the handle grounded me as I called mana from my core, urging it across my body. The impossibly sharp violet edge of my sword flared with heat as I imbued it with fire mana, casting a dim orange glow across the expanse.


    If I could, I would¡¯ve engaged my Dragon¡¯s Will. But I had no Will to muster.


    I grit my teeth, then forced mana across my legs, engaging Burst Step as I fired energy off in precise timings across the meat of my calves and thighs.


    The world blurred as I surged forward, swinging Dawn¡¯s Ballad in a cutting arc as I converged with the swirling vortex of wind and ice. The sword cut effortlessly through the expanding ice as my body bore the brunt of the freezing air, an angry orange streak in the churning, misty blue.


    The out-of-control slurry of ice and wind dispersed violently as I screeched to a halt, my legs burning slightly. Fire, frost, and eddies of wind glimmered through the confines of the training room as an explosion rippled out, churning the ground and making the castle walls tremble. Falling ice crystals split the emberlight around me as I took a deep breath, my hands steady despite my internal turmoil. For a moment, the world was grasped by winter as snow began to fall.


    I closed my eyes, the earlier anger and chaos I¡¯d felt now simmering toward a resigned state of quiet despair. I could rage and rage and rage all I wanted, but what did it change?


    I¡¯d somehow lost Sylvia¡¯s Will after the use of that form of mine. I didn¡¯t know if I¡¯d burned it away, or it had fully abandoned me, or what, but no longer could I rely on the sure warmth of Realmheart¡¯s insight.


    Even with my enhanced body¨CI could use Burst Step now with minimal issue, only suffering from a twinge of pain and burning in my legs that went away quickly¨CI didn¡¯t know if I was stronger than I was before my clash with Toren Daen.


    I held up Dawn¡¯s Ballad, inspecting the changed surface with a note of irritation. It was truly beautiful. From the razor edge, I almost believed that I could cut the fabric of space itself.


    Is this all? I thought angrily. All this legendary weapon of the asura can do?


    As amazing as the reforged edge of my weapon was, what was that to the ability to stop time? To see the very structure of the world from within the cup?


    My spiraling thoughts were interrupted once more as I heard a hesitant voice call out. ¡°Can¡­ Can I come in?¡± it asked, bearing a bit of awe and surprise in the tone. ¡°The mages outside all said that you didn¡¯t want to be disturbed, but Sylvie¡­¡±


    I blinked, turning my tired eyes toward the source of the voice: the loudspeaker at the edge of the training room, where Emily usually waited with Alanis Emeria to catalog changes in training data.


    Ellie? I thought, blinking in surprise. Is that what she meant when she said she¡¯d get someone to help?


    When I¡¯d entered the training room, I¡¯d explicitly told all the staff on hand to leave me be, no matter what they sensed within. My emotions had been festering like a sore for the past day as the revelation Sylvie had alerted me to ripped and tore at my sense of safety.


    My little foxy dragon had left the room a while ago, citing a need to bring someone who could help me make sense of all this. I hadn¡¯t asked who, hadn¡¯t even bothered to break away from the sword forms Kordri had taught me.


    I¡¯d somewhat expected Rinia: after all, she had a lot to answer for when I next saw her. Or perhaps Sylvie would bring a sparring partner¨Cexcept Lances Varay, Bairon, and Mica were currently off on a mission.


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    Yet as Ellie¡¯s uncertain voice echoed through the loudspeaker once more, I found myself utterly blindsided. ¡°I, uh¡­ can come back later? I guess? I mean, I know you need to train and all and stuff. Especially after your other fights, but¨C¡±


    ¡°Come on in, El,¡± I said with a slump of my shoulders, allowing Dawn¡¯s Ballad to shimmer away into the aether. I felt a twinge in my core, no doubt from overexerting myself earlier. ¡°I¡¯m just wrapping up.¡±


    There was a pause for a time, and then a door at the far end opened up. I watched with fond eyes as Ellie trudged in, her eyes wide as she observed the falling motes of snow around the training room. Boo loped in at her side, his large eyes staring distrustfully at the snowflakes that gradually fell.


    And Sylvie rested comfortably on top of the Guardian Bear¡¯s shoulders, conveying her emotions to me over our bond.


    ¡°Wow,¡± Ellie breathed as she took a step into the training room, her almond eyes seeming in a trance. ¡°Is this what you were doing in here, brother? I felt it from all the way in my rooms, but I didn¡¯t think it would be so pretty!¡±


    The wonder and awe in my sister¡¯s voice made me chuckle slightly, my shoulders slumping. I couldn¡¯t stay angry with her hopeful stare all around. ¡°Well, this is what I¡¯ve been training for,¡± I said with a tired smile that felt a bit more genuine. Not even the slight lancing pain in my mana core from how I¡¯d overexerted myself a moment ago could dampen it. ¡°You know the Aurora Constellate is coming up again, and we all know Varay is too cold to make a nice show for everyone.¡±


    Ellie opened her hand, a large snowflake falling into her palm. If I squinted, I almost thought I could see a sheen of magenta reflecting off the crystals within. ¡°That¡¯s not a very Lance-like thing to do,¡± she said absently, her eyes transfixed by the snow. ¡°I mean, I thought you¡¯d be out and about fighting Retainers and stuff, but you can make something this pretty, too?¡±


    And then the comforting warmth I felt in my chest simmered away as I was reminded why I¡¯d spent nearly twelve hours a day in this room for the past two months.


    ¡°I do have to fight Retainers, El,¡± I said tiredly. ¡°And maybe I can make pretty displays of magic, but that isn¡¯t exactly what I¡¯m here for. Something pretty big happened to me recently, and I¡¯m trying¡­ trying to make sense of it,¡± I admitted.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumors,¡± Ellie said quietly, shifting nervously from foot to foot as if she were a scolded child. ¡°That you, well, fought another Retainer a couple days ago. People in the castle don¡¯t know a whole lot about it, but you came back alright for once.¡± She looked up at me hopefully. ¡°You beat them, right? Does that mean you won¡¯t have to train so much here?¡±


    I turned away slightly, my chest clenching painfully as the downfall of frost finally sputtered out. I hadn¡¯t spoken with my sister in months. The threat Toren Daen posed was too existential to keep me away from the training yard.


    And if what Toren Daen had told me was true? Then I didn¡¯t know when I could ever afford to leave the training room.


    ¡°El, I¨C¡± I shook my head, running my hand through my unbound hair as I tried to think of something to say. I was good at fighting, good at speeches, and good at military tactics. But for some reason, I always struggled where I needed the ability the most. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know what to do next. What I can do next.¡±


    If Agrona was seeking Tessia to use as some sort of Vessel, did that mean she needed to be constantly watched? What could I do to halt that? Toren Daen had claimed he¡¯d made that harder¨Cbut not impossible.


    Sensing the spiraling nature of my thoughts, Sylvie spoke up again. ¡°Ellie, you were telling me about your own training on the way down here,¡± she said. ¡°With your magic and how you¡¯ve been practicing.¡±


    I blinked in surprise as Ellie blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not as impressive as what you¡¯re doing,¡± she said, sounding embarrassed. ¡°I mean¡­ You created snow. But I¡¯m just¨C¡±


    ¡°Come on, El!¡± I said, feeling a rush of genuine excitement banish the gloom invading my head. ¡°You¡¯ve been practicing your magic? What have you been training?¡±


    My baby sister was a conjurer¨Cmeaning her mana veins were more prominent than her channels. Every single known conjurer developed an affinity toward an element as their cores progressed¨Cbut my sister hadn¡¯t. It had been a point of confusion and uncertainty for her, and if she¡¯d managed to work past it¡­


    Ellie cleared her throat. ¡°Well, you know how Helen was always teaching me how to use a bow?¡±


    I listened with rapt excitement as my sister told me of her experiments with archery, using her own pure mana¨Cwhich she had a surprising ability to influence¨Cto create arrows fired from her bow. Ellie went deep into her testing process and how she¡¯d gone over a hundred different ideas for how to use this. I savored the way her almond-colored eyes brightened with enthusiasm the more she spoke, her earlier reservations long forgotten.


    ¡°It¡¯s a lot like the dragons¡¯ abilities to wield pure mana,¡± my bond commented from where she was rolled up near my feet. We¡¯d moved to the edge of the training ground as the minutes passed by, watching as the snow gradually melted. ¡°Once I unlock the seal my mother placed on me, I should be able to use mana as my race does. Maybe I could help you then!¡±


    Boo had stationed himself like a massive teddy bear behind Ellie, staring grumpily at the ground. Honestly, with how that bear looked, I couldn¡¯t tell if he was actually angry or if he had ¡®resting bear face.¡¯ Ellie, in turn, looked at Sylvie with a squint as she inspected my foxy dragon. ¡°You know, it¡¯s still really weird that you can suddenly talk now,¡± she said, puffing herself up. ¡°I mean¡­ It¡¯s just kind of strange, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Sylvie chortled. ¡°I¡¯ve always been able to think clearly, Ellie,¡± she said. ¡°Even way back when you first met me.¡±


    Ellie¡¯s eyes widened comically and I felt a brow of mine quirk upward at how quickly her face reddened. ¡°Then that means you remember¡­ everything?¡±


    ¡°Everything,¡± Sylvie confirmed happily.


    ¡°Everything?¡±


    ¡°Everything.¡±


    Ellie opened her mouth to speak, then bit her lip, averting her eyes. I felt my mild amusement lace itself with suspicion as my baby sister looked away from my bond.


    She coughed awkwardly into her fist in a way that reminded me distinctly of my father. ¡°So you remember¡­¡±


    ¡°When you dressed me up with your doll¡¯s clothes years ago?¡± Sylvie finished helpfully, her tail swishing playfully as a grin split her lupine face, ¡°Oh, yes. I remember.¡±


    Ellie¡¯s face might as well have bled steam from how she buried her face in her hands, groaning in embarrassment. I gaped at my sister, aghast at what I¡¯d just heard.


    ¡°To be fair, I was a very pretty dragon,¡± Sylvie said happily. ¡°I wore that dress better than your dolls ever did.¡±


    I finally managed to utter something: a weak wheeze of utter bafflement. Oh, god. If Windsom ever found out¡­ If Windsom found out, he might just deliver me to Lord Indrath himself. I could almost imagine the King of Epheotus¡¯ cold lavender eyes as they stared at me, unamused as I told him that my sister had used his granddaughter as a dress-up doll.


    I swallowed. ¡°Sylv, how about we not tell anyone that Ellie dressed you up in skirts when you were younger?¡±


    Sylvie blinked, inspected my surface thoughts, then proceeded to break down into uncontrollable laughter. The little white fox rolled across the ground nearby as she struggled to contain the image I¡¯d imagined in my head. ¡°Oh, Art! I am going to tell absolutely everyone now!¡±


    ¡°No, please!¡± Ellie piped up, her face red as a tomato as she rushed forward, falling to her knees at the laughing dragon¡¯s side. ¡°Please, Sylvie! I¡¯ll do anything. Just name it, I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯m sure you want something!¡±


    Sylvie rolled over, perching herself smugly as she stared across at my sister. In a distinctly human way, she propped her foxy chin up with a paw as she stared at my sister. My bond opened her mouth to say something, but then she paused.


    And her body flashed, glowing a deep yellow that banished all contrast. I felt our link suddenly blank out as the strange effect started, Sylvie¡¯s entire form seeming to fuzz indistinctly.


    Then she simmered back into her normal shape as I watched with wide eyes, adrenaline starting to surge in my veins. ¡°Sylv,¡± I said, rushing over to the strange mass of yellow light as it gradually became fox-shaped again. ¡°Sylv, are you alright? What¡¯s happening?¡±


    When next I heard my bond¡¯s voice, it was over our mental tether, sounding afraid, excited, and unsure all at once. ¡°Arthur, I need¡­ need Uto¡¯s horn! It¡¯s the seal!¡±


    It took a moment for me to comprehend exactly what my bond meant. And when it did, my eyes widened in surprise. The seal that Sylvia had placed on her daughter¨Cit was breaking away now. I needed to get her to the horn to help ease the process.


    I scooped up my dragon, feeling another painful twinge from my own mana core. I must have extended myself more than I thought, I thought with a wince as I stood quickly, Sylvie glowing yellow in my arms. ¡°Ellie, I gotta go!¡± I said quickly, scrambling toward the exit. ¡°Emergency! I¡¯ll talk later, I promise!¡± I shouted as I stumbled toward the door of the training room.


    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± Ellie said, running after me as I moved. ¡°Is Sylvie okay? What¡¯s wrong with her?¡± she asked worriedly.


    I grit my teeth as my own damn core sent tendrils of fire across my body, causing me to wince. ¡°Foxes need time to grow into majestic dragons,¡± I said through gritted teeth. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ve been expecting this for a while! But I need to be alone with her to ensure nothing goes wrong!¡±


    Before I could fully make it past my sister, she grabbed onto my arm with a surprisingly firm grip. I turned, inspecting her with adrenalized eyes. ¡°You promise you¡¯ll talk to me later?¡± she asked, sounding almost pleading. ¡°I mean, mom and dad aren¡¯t here, and there¡¯s nobody left in the castle my age. I just¡­ I just wanna talk with my brother sometimes.¡±


    I felt my heart melt just a little at my baby sister¡¯s request. I ruffled her head with a hand, mussing her neat hair and causing her to squawk in outrage. ¡°I promise, El,¡± I said. ¡°Now I got to go,¡± I said quickly, before running down the corridors with mana-enhanced steps.


    With the strength of my new physique, I was less than a blur as the wind itself carried me through the massive hallways of Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. I passed more than a few flustered servants and guards as I beelined for my rooms, racing against time as Sylvie¡¯s body continued to shift.


    Within my mind, her thoughts had become indistinct and watery, like sand sifting through a sieve. I felt no small measure of worry as I tried to plan for whatever might be happening. We knew her seal was close to breaking, but¨C


    Another lurch in my mana core made me miss a step in my run, causing me to tumble and fall. My vision flashed red with pain as the nexus of my power seared uncomfortably. I barely had the wherewithal to twist myself as I hurtled, shifting so my back smashed into an oncoming wall instead of my bond.


    The breath left my lungs as I collapsed to my knees, the wall surprisingly still intact despite the fact I¡¯d hit it with the speed of a moving car. That said something about the ancient mages¡¯ construction abilities. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Something¡¯s wrong with my core, I thought with a groan as I clutched one hand to my sternum. This¡­ This isn¡¯t from overuse. This is something else.


    I blearily pulled myself to my feet, wavering there for a moment as I held Sylvie close. I¡­ I needed to get her to my rooms. Whatever was wrong with my core could come after I tended to her. After I¡­.


    I stumbled forward, noting the set of doors near me. A set of massive doors, each large enough to fit an asura themself, stretched high in front of me. My core lurched again: a grasping, pulling pain that made it hard to think.


    I groaned, then pushed on the doors. They shifted with surprising ease, leaving me to almost trip as they swung inward. I blinked, my vision hazy and doubling as I inspected where I found myself.


    The main meeting room of the Triunion Council, I barely recognized. Where they sentenced me, so long ago. Before Windsom¡¯s intervention.


    I stumbled forward. Past those seats there were doors to the private chambers of the Lances. I just needed to¡ª


    I fell to my knees before the arrayed table, each looming seat seeming to judge me as I failed to take another step. Come on, Arthur! I chastised myself with gritted teeth as my consciousness faded in and out. You need to¡­ need to move! Don¡¯t let this stop you! You can¡­


    The last thought I had as I finally succumbed to whatever force gripped my core was that the room seemed far too large for my crumpling body.

 Chapter 218: Genesis

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    When my mind finally clawed itself from the slog of unconsciousness, the first thing I noticed was how much I could feel.


    Not in my body¨Cthough that felt absurdly heightened, too¨Cbut in the world around me. I blinked weary eyes as the sensation of it all¨Cfire, water, earth air, and something even more¨Cpressed against the back of my skull. It was as if I was trying to taste a hundred different flavors at once while simultaneously able to perfectly distinguish them all.


    On instinct, I checked my core and¡­


    No longer was the center of my strength a bright silver lined with cracks. No, it was a brilliant, burning white.


    The white core¨Cthe greatest peak a mage could reach. The highest power possible for a human being.


    And I¡¯d done it.


    I opened my eyes as I groggily pulled myself to my feet, and had to blink as I took in the doors to the Triunion Council room. Because not only could I feel the mana all around me, each particle like an all-consuming rush of energy, but I could see them too.


    Like Realmheart, I realized, still trying to understand what exactly had happened. But not exactly like Realmheart, either¨CI could see how the red motes of fire mana swirled around the torchlight, eddies of green wind mana carrying blue water mana about in gentle waves as yellow earth mana clung to the ground. But I didn¡¯t feel that overwhelming rush of power; of insight. This was simply visualization.


    But between the blues and reds and yellows and greens, there was another color, just barely visible. I thought I caught flashes of purple between them all.


    Aether, I thought, watching those flickers of purple with wide eyes. Yet I shouldn¡¯t be able to¨C


    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve waited a very long time for this moment,¡± a smooth, feminine voice said from behind me. ¡°And now that we¡¯re finally here, you won¡¯t even give me the time of day. I¡¯m hurt, Arthur.¡±


    I stood ramrod straight, a tingling sensation like innumerable insects crawling down my spine clutching at my bones. I felt a horrid state of wrongness overtake me as those words caressed my ears; so smooth. So confident.


    I turned robotically, the room spinning as every single ornament, decoration, and flux of mana seemed to converge on a single being.


    A girl watched me from on high, lounging in the centremost chair on the massive table. She appeared to be in her mid-teens, just a bit younger than me¨Cbut the aura she projected belied her youthful appearance. Her choppy, wheat blonde hair seemed to shimmer in the light like gold, and the onyx horns stretching from her head drank in every iota of reflected yellow. Any glow that managed to escape the trap of her horns was cast further into oblivion by the deep shades of her dress. The windows far beyond outlined her in the light of the setting sun, making her seem like a dark blot eclipsing a star.


    And her eyes¨Cthey were red. As red as blood left to dry and pool around a long-dead body.


    I knew immediately this was Sylvie. This should be Sylvie. But the way those eyes¨Ceach the color of curdled blood¨Csparkled with quiet mockery was not Sylvie. The way the barest edge of her lips curled up in a knowing smirk showed none of the compassion I knew permeated every ounce of my bond¡¯s expressions.


    This was not my bond.


    And in their hands was a pure, ripe apple, as deeply crimson as a beating heart.


    I squared my stance, feeling my mana roil in my chest as I held a hand out to the side, prepared to summon Dawn¡¯s Ballad should whoever this was try and make any sudden moves.


    Even as I faced the being possessing Sylvie¡¯s body with my magic flaring and clear readiness for combat, they didn¡¯t move, aside from twisting the apple in their hands. They stared down at me as if I were a particularly interesting bug, the malevolence deep in those eyes making my newly-white core tremble in my sternum.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t Sylvie,¡± I said slowly, ready to call my weapon, ¡°so who are you?¡±


    The being in my bond¡¯s body tilted her head. ¡°You don¡¯t know, Arthur Leywin? You¡¯re quite intelligent for a lesser, aren¡¯t you? Take a guess.¡±


    The revelations of the past few days slammed back into my mind one by one like sledgehammers. Of all that had transpired between Sylvie, Toren Daen, and what he¡¯d spoken of.


    My eyes narrowed, and I called the mana around me to my will as I summoned walls of earth to block off all the nearby exits. I finally called on Dawn¡¯s Ballad, keeping it between me and the monster possessing my bond.


    ¡°Agrona Vritra,¡± I said, suddenly beyond sure of my guess.


    Sylvie¡¯s horns split the setting sun¡¯s light as Agrona chuckled lightly, the sound of my bond¡¯s voice all wrong. ¡°You should relax, Arthur Leywin. I could have used this body to kill you while you were drooling on the floor mere minutes ago, if I truly wished.¡± Agrona twisted the apple in his hand, inspecting it with inquisitive eyes. ¡°Though I can¡¯t use mana in this form, even if I wanted to. If I wanted to have my way with you¨Cif my tastes flowed that way¨Cit would be quite difficult, don¡¯t you think?¡± he asked, raising a wheat-colored brow as he shrugged.


    I snorted in disgust, but didn¡¯t allow anything else to show on my face as I conjured a seat of earth beneath me. I made a show of settling comfortably into the seat as I stared up at the ruler of Alacrya, very aware of our positions.


    King Grey slipped to the forefront of my mind. His analytical, rational thinking was what I needed to maneuver through this minefield.


    He¡¯s placed himself higher than me, I thought, recognizing the height disparity between us two. Agrona watched me from at least ten feet above. He¡¯s made his position clear. He¡¯s presented his statement of where I stand relative to him.


    ¡°Is Sylvie safe while you¡¯re possessing her body?¡± I asked calmly, staring up at the dictator as I set Dawn¡¯s Ballad across my lap. My sword was still unsheathed¨Ca quiet message of my own to the basilisk far above.


    Agrona tossed the apple up, catching it as it fell back down. ¡°Sylvie¡­ A good name, I must admit. But yes, your bond is merely sleeping. I¡¯m using a spell I implanted inside of her when she was but an egg.¡±


    I filed that information away for the future. Right now, I needed to stay focused.


    ¡°It¡¯s easy to guess that you want to speak with me for some reason,¡± I commented, projecting a nonchalant air. ¡°Else you wouldn¡¯t have set yourself up so high, presumably waiting for me to wake up.¡±


    Agrona shifted the apple, the rays of the setting sun glimmering as they rebounded off the sleek curvature of the fruit. ¡°I have a few reasons,¡± he admitted. ¡°But recently I heard a really interesting story. Would you like to hear it, too?¡± he said, peering at me and allowing his eyes to squint into little crescent moons.


    I relaxed my posture, staring solidly at the lord of the Sovereigns. I went over everything I knew about this long-lived asura in my head¨Cthat he¡¯d practically brainwashed an entire race of people in Alacrya to do his bidding, that he was on a quest of vengeance to dismantle the asura themselves.


    And that he¡¯d reincarnated me into this world, but only for another purpose. To pull Cecilia into his clutches.


    And I knew, even if I didn¡¯t want to, I couldn¡¯t afford to let this talk slip by so easily.


    ¡°Is it going to take too long?¡± I asked leisurely. ¡°The sun¡¯s almost set, and I¡¯ll have to be getting to bed sometime soon.¡±


    Agrona chortled. ¡°Oh, you lessers and your perception of time. Always rushing to get this and that done within your stupidly arbitrary frames. Here in Alacrya, the sun set long ago. Strange, that that distant star insists on remaining in the sky here in Dicathen. But no, Arthur Leywin. This won¡¯t take too long.¡±


    Agrona twisted the apple in his hands. ¡°You see, I was told a very interesting story recently by a new acquaintance of mine. A story about two naive lessers, a bountiful tree, a wrathful, jealous god, and a serpent.¡±


    The High Sovereign¡¯s eyes seemed to darken as the rubies within were overwhelmed by shadow. ¡°Do you know the story? It¡¯s a pretty famous one, though not really a local variety.¡±


    I tapped my fingers on the edge of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, unwilling to show how Agrona¡¯s last words had unnerved me. Because of course, I knew the story¨Cthe biblical tale of Man¡¯s fall from grace. Of original sin. Of humans daring to partake in knowledge beyond their ken, and being punished for their foolishness.


    And it was not a story known to anyone in this world.


    My eyes darted to the apple in Agrona¡¯s slender fingers. His smirk widened.


    ¡°It appears you know exactly what I¡¯m talking about,¡± Agrona said, the smile on Sylvie¡¯s face like a disgusting ooze in my skull. ¡°It¡¯s such a great story. A serpent is cast from its throne in the skies of Heaven by a wicked god who thinks they¡¯re all-powerful. But the serpent sees something nobody else does. Our resourceful protagonist perceives all that the vengeful, jealous god has created, and knows that they could pull it to their whims.¡±


    I watched transfixed, my jaw slowly working as Agrona continued his monologue. He rolled the apple around his hand, the fruit seeming impossibly red. Impossibly perfect. ¡°And so the serpent concocts a plan. The god above might detest all things that crawl on the ground, but there¡¯s this one pet project he¡¯s made in a little cage, in a place the god likes to call Paradise, but is actually a zoo. And so our scheming hero comes up with an idea: if he can just ruin that little ¡®Paradise¡¯¨Cshow the dogs within the truth of their existence¨Cthen all of the envious god¡¯s plans go up in smoke.¡±


    Agrona brought the apple close to Sylvie¡¯s mouth. ¡°But the serpent needed a plan. He needed a way to convince the lessers of their station, to tempt them past their cage. And lo and behold, that god made a single rule in all of Paradise.¡±


    Agrona looked me in the eyes as he took a single bite out of the apple. The sound of the crunch seemed to reverberate through the entire Triunion Council hall as if carried by strings of sound magic. Yet for all that I could see the mana twist and ebb around the room, I couldn¡¯t understand how the sound of a single bite could stretch across the castle.


    The basilisk inhabiting Sylvie¡¯s body chewed slowly, a single dribble of juice streaking down the side of Sylvie¡¯s mouth like a dragon¡¯s tear. Agrona wiped it away with a single, pristine thumb, before running Sylvie¡¯s tongue along the juice¡¯s trail.


    I resisted the urge to shudder in disgust, Agrona¡¯s eyes twinkling with a hint of mockery as I struggled to watch this¡­ monster puppet my bond.


    ¡°To never eat fruit from the Tree of Knowledge,¡± he said at last.


    ¡°And what is this supposed to say?¡± I snapped, sounding far more irritable than I would have liked. The High Sovereign of Alacrya had unnerved me with his comparisons. ¡°The serpent, I understand. The god, too. But who is Adam, and who is Eve?¡±


    Agrona didn¡¯t answer immediately. He simply took another bite of the succulent fruit, humming in pleasure as he swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m just telling a story, Arthur,¡± he said, his voice chastising. ¡°The serpent is just a serpent; the god just a god. The cage could be anything, really. And the lessers? They¡¯re of no more importance than lessers ever are. Who and what the serpent tempts¡­ that¡¯s entirely up to your lesser interpretation.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The room settled into a grim silence as Agrona tossed the apple core up into the air, before catching it with a thunk. Every movement seemed purposefully crafted, each made to sink into my psyche like knives. The way he belittled me¨Cit was almost like he was treating me as if I were a child.


    Though I suppose, in comparison to him, I might as well be a child, I reluctantly acknowledged. Those thoughts allowed me a modicum more control. It reminded me exactly what Agrona was trying to do¨Ctrying to unbalance me. Why else would he reference a story from my previous life? He was trying to unnerve me with this knowledge he shouldn¡¯t have.


    I wouldn¡¯t let it work.


    ¡°Except the serpent fails,¡± I said into the din of silence. ¡°The snake is discovered by the ¡®jealous god,¡¯ and punished for all eternity for being greedy and envious. For tainting something pure.¡± I narrowed my eyes as I stared up at the head of the Vritra clan. ¡°For decaying


    something that was once whole. That¡¯s how the story ends.¡±


    Agrona snapped Sylvie¡¯s fingers, pointing one at me as he smiled slightly. ¡°See, that¡¯s where it¡¯s all wrong,¡± he said. ¡°You know, that story was always touted by the god¡¯s worshippers, wasn¡¯t it? They¡¯re the ones who told their side of the story, after all. But nobody thought to listen to the poor, neglected serpent, did they?¡±


    I scoffed, unamused by Agrona¡¯s comparison. He¡¯d enslaved an entire continent to his whims, experimented and toyed with the lives of millions. He had no right to speak as such. ¡°So, what?¡± I said, my voice disbelieving. ¡°The serpent was justified, all along? The snake was just acting for the greater good of all, hoping to bestow knowledge upon the poor, hapless Adam and Eve? I find that suggestion ludicrous coming from you.¡±


    Agrona shook Sylvie¡¯s head wearily. ¡°You¡¯re missing the point, Arthur,¡± he said jovially. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say that the serpent is everything the worshippers say it is. Envious, deceitful, wrathful? Maybe a bit traitorous and scheming, too. Oh, all those are perfect descriptors,¡± the mad god of Alacrya said cheerily, tossing the apple up into the air.


    But when he caught it once more, it stayed there. Agrona¡¯s slight smirk fell away, leaving a face carved of utter stone as those ruby eyes bored holes into mine. ¡°No, the point where the story is utterly wrong? That¡¯s where the gods¡¯ worshippers assume that the serpent can be made to grovel; made to writhe like a worm for eternity. They assume that the story ends there with the serpent¡¯s endless punishment. But they. Are. Wrong.¡±


    Agrona¡¯s hand clenched around the apple, and it burst into innumerable fleshy chunks. The gory sound of the pulped fruit splatting against the ground echoed like a stone thrown into the depths of a cave, reverberating over and over and over.


    I could see no movement in the ambient mana and feel no fluctuation around Sylvie¡¯s body. But as the words settled into my bones, I felt my hackles subconsciously rise as, for the first time, I realized I was facing something ancient.


    Agrona liked to appear amiable and companionable. He presented a mask that pretended at pleasant sanity, but when that mask came off¡­


    There was just¡­ just darkness. A hungry void seeking to devour. There was the face of a scorned god, angry and malevolent.


    And then Agrona smiled leisurely, the earlier display falling away as if it were merely a mask. His lips curled up at the edges, his eyes twinkling as they took in my state. I belatedly realized that my hands had clenched around the handle of Dawn¡¯s Ballad to the point my knuckles were white as bone.


    I had to forcefully calm my breathing as I stared up at Agrona, feeling small.


    ¡°But that¡¯s all besides the point,¡± the basilisk said jovially, flicking Sylvie¡¯s hand so that the juices of the fruit splattered across the Triunion Council¡¯s immaculate table. ¡°I came here to tell you something, Arthur¨Ca few things, actually.¡± Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I resisted the urge to swallow. ¡°And what might those things be?¡±


    ¡°You are one of the only two people on this continent I find worthy of my attention,¡± Agrona said nonchalantly. ¡°And so I¡¯ll give you a little warning. I¡¯ve progressed very, very conservatively in this war so far. Even your little family at Blackbend have been graced with immunity to my forces for the barest time.¡±


    My hands clenched around Dawn¡¯s Ballad as I glared up at Agrona, fury breaking through my mask of Grey as he threatened my family. But he wasn¡¯t done.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen a great deal of bloodshed, King Grey. More than most lessers. Maybe even more than most asura. So I want you to understand what I mean when I say that the blood shall flow soon¡­¡± Agrona¡¯s smile almost seemed pleasant. ¡°It¡¯s going to be the bloodiest war in history¡¯s tapestry. Numbers cannot fathom the casualties that your continent will face.¡±


    I felt the blood drain from my face as Agrona confidently made his statement. My thoughts immediately shifted to my mother and father¨Cstationed at Blackbend City. How they and the Twin Horns had already lost Adam.


    ¡°There will be no surrender,¡± Agrona continued simply. ¡°No sparing of prisoners. No recourse for civilians. Men, women, children¡­ The serpent will have its fill of the crimson tide.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± I said, my jaw gaping as I stared at the architect behind everything. ¡°You¡¯re utterly mad.¡±


    Agrona waved a hand dismissively. ¡°That¡¯s a hypocritical implication coming from you, King Grey. How many bodies did you leave in your wake from presumed insanity?¡± The Vritra shrugged Sylvie¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You lessers have such a strange predilection for hypocrisy.¡±


    Agrona rolled Sylvie¡¯s eyes, as if dismissing an errant line of thought.


    ¡°Regardless, since you¡¯ve done such a good job listening, I¡¯ll tell you something else. The asura of Epheotus that you¡¯ve grown to rely so, so much on? They won¡¯t be coming to save you. Not long ago, a coalition of asura tried to assault my fortress in Taegrin Caelum.¡±


    Agrona leaned forward, that ever-present mocking smirk stretching just a bit wider. ¡°They failed. And now, as punishment for breaking our treaty, they can no longer interfere in this war.¡±


    As Agrona¡¯s words hit me, I resisted the urge to curse aloud. The asura were our greatest allies¨Cour only insurance that this war was an equal playing field. Without them¡­ Without them, how did we¡­


    ¡°So, King of Another World,¡± Agrona interrupted my spiraling thoughts jovially, ¡°I¡¯ve done my little villain monologue, explaining all of my plans to the valiant hero. I¡¯ve played the part you so desperately need me to. So tell me, what will you do?¡±


    I stared at the ground, my thoughts grinding to a halt as all that I¡¯d learned compounded in my skull. If Agrona wanted to reincarnate Cecilia, if he wanted to bring the Legacy into another life, then I couldn¡¯t allow him. And from what this mad god said, he was ready to reap a death toll greater and more ghastly than any seen before.


    The reasons I fought for Dicathen were complicated. I didn¡¯t fight for my continent out of some sense of loyalty. With the benefit of a second life, I hadn¡¯t grown so attached to the land I lived on. It was just earth to me.


    No, it was the people who drove me to fight. And as images of Mom, Dad, Ellie, and Tess flashed through my mind¨Ctheir bodies merely an outline in an endless sea of corpses beyond them¨CI realized I had no other choice.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to fight you,¡± I said, looking up at the High Sovereign as resolve threaded through my voice. ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you have your way, Agrona Vritra. You¡¯re going to fail¨Casura or not.¡±


    I¡¯d faced impossible odds countless times. What was one more impossibility?


    Agrona clapped slowly feigning joy. ¡°That¡¯s perfect, King Grey,¡± he said with an air of pleasure. ¡°It¡¯s always Kezess with his grand ultimatums, but I can see why he¡¯s so fond of them. It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve found myself having fun.¡±


    I stood from my seat, unconsciously beginning to hover as the mana supported me. My chair of stone fell away beneath me as I slowly rose to meet Agrona¡¯s level. Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashed in the light. I leveled the weapon at the monster infesting my bond like a parasite. ¡°I won¡¯t let you take this continent,¡± I vowed, my voice even as resolve flowed through me. ¡°Ultimatum or not, I won¡¯t allow a tyrant to tear us apart.¡±


    ¡°I expect nothing less, Arthur Leywin,¡± Agrona said, those blood-curdled eyes narrowing. ¡°But before we cut this intimate meeting short, I want to correct you on something. Earlier, you asked who Adam was, and who Eve was. That¡¯s the wrong question.¡±


    I had the sensation that this entire encounter had been planned. Agrona had laid each and every piece of our meeting beforehand, meticulously aligning the conversation in the route he wanted. I wondered if this mad god of Alacrya thought he was only playing a part, and this entire council room was his stage.


    But as a genuine, easy grin stretched across Sylvie¡¯s face, morphing it into something wretchedly unlike what my bond would ever show, I felt that I was finally seeing a glimpse of the true being beneath it all. ¡°You should ask what the fruit is, Arthur. Because it might just be out there somewhere, waiting for someone to take a bite.¡°


    And then those eyes of ruby finally closed. Agrona leaned back in the chair, that soft, eerie grin still plastered on my bond¡¯s face.


    And then Sylvie slowly opened her eyes. She stared at me with a bewildered look, her topaz eyes tracing from the point of Dawn¡¯s Ballad all the way back to me. ¡°Arthur,¡± she said, ¡°Arthur, wha¨C¡±


    My bond tripped as she tried to shift from the chair, her arms flailing as she yelled out in surprise. On instinct, I released my hold of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, rushing forward in the air to catch the teenage girl as she almost fell to the floor.


    I caught her just in time, feeling her emotions as they surged across our tether. Fear, excitement, confusion, and a whole lot more confusion layered on top of that.


    I slowly floated down to the floor, holding my bond close as I did so. She clung to me, the grip of her fingers uneven and unsure as I finally settled down.


    So that¡¯s what it¡¯s like for a white core mage to fly, I thought. I could get used to this.


    I looked down at my bond, separating and putting a bit of distance between us. I held her solidly by her shoulders as I stared into her bright, yellow eyes, trying to find a hint of red.


    ¡°How long are you going to keep staring?¡± she sent me over our mental tether.


    It occurred to me belatedly that the emotion I felt over our bond felt much more¡­ nuanced. More whole and complex as she unconsciously sent her emotions over. It was strange, feeling another being¡¯s emotions. That fear, uncertainty, confusion¡­


    But that wasn¡¯t what was important right now.


    ¡°Sylv,¡± I said, entirely serious. I could come to terms with her human form later. I had more pressing matters to talk to her about. ¡°What do you remember last? I need you to tell me.¡±


    My bond opened her mouth to speak¨Cand I belatedly realized she no doubt felt my own mixture of fear, resolve, and burning fury in the aftermath of my talk with the leader of Alacraya.


    Her wheat brows furrowed¨Cthis time in a way truly reminiscent of her, and not some puppeteer, and she opened her mouth to speak.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t remember anything of your little chat with Agrona,¡± a gravelly voice said from far behind me.


    I turned robotically as the echo of a cane filled the audience hall. I watched with transfixed eyes as Rinia Darcassan, resident diviner and elven seer, plodded forward as if the world itself weighed on her back. Cynthia Goodsky¡¯s old bond, Avier, watched with unblinking eyes as it stared at Sylvie.


    The elf looked old¨Cfar, far too old. I found myself baffled by how she could even still move. From how thin her body was, I feared that a simple breeze might cause her to break down into motes of dust and drift away.


    I was told a story once, wasn¡¯t I? I thought absently, Of what happens when a diviner pushes their abilities too far?


    ¡°Sylvie here doesn¡¯t know about the spell her father planted in her when she was but an egg,¡± the aged elf said, her voice like sandpaper. Those eyes of hers¨Ceach a dance of orange and green¨Cdimmed slightly. ¡°But it won¡¯t really matter in a moment.¡±


    Rinia slowly, slowly raised a decrepit hand as she finally reached us. It appeared as if a scarecrow had suddenly come to life and been given the shape of an elf for how creakily that arm shifted.


    But then I spotted something on the tip of her finger. A single, burning flare of purple.


    My hand latched out, catching Rinia¡¯s arm in my grip. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I hissed, my eyes flicking to the mote of¡­ of aether at the end of her digit. ¡°What are you planning to do to Sylvie?¡±


    Rinia looked up at me, and her eyes flashed violet. ¡°Saving your bond from a parasite, you foolish boy,¡± she chastised. ¡°Do you want that spell sitting around in her core, strings to puppeteer her whenever he damn well pleases?¡±


    The color drained from Sylvie¡¯s face as she started to connect the dots.


    ¡°Arthur, what is she talking about?¡± my bond transmitted mentally, struggling to stand upright now that I wasn¡¯t stabilizing her with both hands ¡°What happened while I was out?¡±


    I gnashed my teeth, feeling a bit of lingering distrust for the elven seer. She¡¯d lied to me about Tess, hadn¡¯t she? She¡¯d told me Tess was in danger and that Spellsong was attacking her. In the end, however, Spellsong had been helping.


    But ultimately, the elf was right. I¡¯d need to trust her. Sylvie¡¯s needs took priority over my distrust.


    I let go of Rinia¡¯s arm. She sagged slightly, rubbing her wrist with a slight wince where I¡¯d held it. ¡°Thank you. And you¡¯ll need to learn to control the strength of your new body. You aren¡¯t used to the strength you have now.¡±


    I frowned. I was pretty sure I hadn¡¯t told anyone about¨C


    Rinia pressed that purple mote of energy into Sylvie¡¯s chest. My dragon gasped as the purple particle sunk in, her hands clenching around my shoulder as her eyes widened.


    ¡°Sylvie, are you okay?¡± I asked, trying to find any note of discomfort over our bond.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m¡­ fine. It¡¯s just that the aether felt so warm. Not quite like Spellsong¡¯s, but close, I guess,¡± Sylvie said, still staring at her chest in wonder.


    ¡°That spell is gone now,¡± Rinia said, her shoulders slumping as she leaned heavily on her cane. ¡°Agrona will know of me now, though. He¡¯ll be watching for how I alter things. Change the future.¡±


    It was only at that moment that I fully comprehended what exactly a seer was; how she was able to manipulate aether at all. ¡°Aevum,¡± I whispered, keeping my hands in a stabilizing posture on Sylvie¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You control aether, don¡¯t you, Rinia?¡±


    Rinia snorted contemptuously, and I got the feeling she would¡¯ve whacked me upside the head with her cane if she could. ¡°I don¡¯t control anything, Arthur. It would be so much easier if I could. But things have changed so, so much,¡± she said tiredly. ¡°There are still things I can¡¯t tell you. There are more things I must keep secret from you than I can ever reveal. But I will say this, Arthur: not a year ago, Dicathen had no hope of winning this war. There wasn¡¯t even a chance.¡±


    The elven diviner looked into my eyes as I held my bond close, something uniquely endless in the depths of her pupils. ¡°But something changed. Something broke Fate. And now? Now we have hope.¡±

 Chapter 219: Redirection

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Aldir Thyestes


    The mana arts of the pantheon race were unlike the other races of Epheotus. While the hamadryads focused on cultivating nature and its powers, the sylphs glided freely across the infinite winds, and the leviathans mastered the deepest of unknown depths, the pantheons embraced something more fundamental.


    I shifted my feet a fraction of an inch as the head of a spear, red as a shear-thorn rose¡¯s petals, flashed less than an inch from my face. The single eye I kept open tracked its perfect, glimmering edge as if it were moving underwater.


    The spear retracted, quicker than a snapdragon wasp¡¯s stinger after a successful kill. Yet the point of this weapon was no unerring stinger. I used minimal movements¨Cbare adjustments of my feet, waves of my hands, and changes to my position¨Cto ward off any and all attacks from the spear.


    For most asura, they would have only witnessed a blur as Taci Thyestes¡¯ weapon flashed toward me, attempting to draw lines and cuts across my being. Yet I was graceful as the wind. I was as fluid as water. I was hot as fire, and I was sturdy as earth.


    And in truth, I was none of those. I was force itself¨Cevery incarnation it could possibly be.


    I grabbed the haft of the weapon just as it neared the dark plates of my armor. And then, with the barest exertion on my part, I shifted, pulling the weapon inward and toward my center of mass.


    My sparring partner tumbled forward as I pulled him off balance. Taci lost his grip on his weapon as he was forced to raise his arms in front of himself, rolling and readjusting with incredible grace as he shot past me with equally incredible force.


    I simply turned, inspecting the young asura with my sole eye as he reoriented, planting his feet firmly on the soft grass beneath our feet once more. The young pantheon¡¯s two eyes narrowed as he fought to suppress an irritated scowl.


    I inspected the spear in my gauntleted hand, admiring the craftsmanship. It was one of the eminent creations of the greatest weaponsmiths of the asura, Wren Kain IV. Though the rigid titan had disappeared not long ago, the exquisite workmanship remained.


    ¡°The pantheons are blades, Taci Thyestes,¡± I said calmly, looking my young protege¡¯s spear up and down. ¡°We are the finest weapons, honed until we cut better than any other. It is in our blood to pursue the martial path, to make the most of our gifts. We are force incarnate, young warrior¨Cbut you do not seem to understand this.¡±


    We were currently stationed within Castle Indrath, looming over the slopes of Mount Geolus. As the young warrior had partially succeeded in training within the aether orb¨Che was extracted every few months and allowed time for his mind to adjust before re-entry¨Cnow he was granted permission to test himself across the back of the last Great Catastrophe. Few of the rising generation of asura ever achieved such a privilege, even within the Indrath Clan, which spoke to the enormity of my protege¡¯s skills.


    The spear shimmered, disappearing from my grip. In an instant, it reappeared in Taci¡¯s outstretched hands. His knuckles were whiter than Lady Myre¡¯s scales as he snapped them shut like a vise.


    ¡°You¡¯ve repeated this a dozen times, master,¡± the young asura said with restrained agitation. He wasn¡¯t even out of his teens¨Cpractically a child for an asura. Even with a decade and a half within the aether orb so far, his lack of emotional control was understandable. ¡°But I do not yet understand what you mean. I have been told by many that the force of my blade is exceptional. What am I doing wrong?¡±


    I restrained a sigh. Taci had grown fast, even for an asura. The young warrior had not been given the time to digest the philosophies of our clan, for he outstripped all near his age in martial prowess¨Cand many who were far beyond his age, too.


    I locked my hands behind my back. ¡°Come, Taci. Strike at me with all that you have. We are warriors¨Cso let me show you by the blade, rather than simple words.¡±


    Words had their place¨Cbut for one as young and brash as my protege, I suspected I¡¯d need to alter my tactics. Adapt and shift to the circumstances, rather than attempt brute force.


    Taci settled back into stance, his martial robes shifting. Yet I noticed an air of uncertainty in his olive-yellow eyes. He stood nervously far away from me, clearly worried to strike with everything in his arsenal.


    My third eye narrowed slightly as I allowed my chin to raise slightly. ¡°Do you hesitate, Taci Thyestes? Do you fear to swing your blade?¡±


    That was enough. Taci¡¯s eyes hardened into cold amber as he swung his spear, engaging the unique force-type mana arts of the pantheon race. Several invisible arcs of mana rocketed toward me, easily larger than I was. They carved sheer divots through the compacted earth of the training ground, silently humming with power.


    I shifted to the side, allowing one to slip just past my nose as I weaved like a sylph through the winds. As the second slice of force approached, I stretched my arms out, twisting as I engaged a current of invisible pressure around me in turn.


    Like a rigid rock caught in a slipstream, Taci¡¯s spell was caught in the riptide of my mana. I spun, moving the current along with me like a guiding hand. Like a fish with nowhere else to go, the crescent arc of force-type mana followed my directions as I twisted.


    And then I released my encapsulating current of force, having completed a full rotation. The spell was redirected back toward its sender, glimmering angrily as it surged toward the final spell.


    Taci¡¯s two arcs collided in an explosion of sound. They obliterated each other in a fracture of glimmering white, as iron meets iron. Wind whipped at my long, white ponytail as the force traveled outward. My third eye narrowed.


    I raised a single finger as Taci erupted from the interplay of force, his sheer mana barrier protecting him from the churning energy. His teeth were gritted and his eyes were almost wild as he thrust his spear toward my chest.


    As gentle as the winds that rolled across the Cerulean Savannah, I raised a single finger. As Taci¡¯s spear neared my sternum, I pressed it against the underbelly of his weapon, lifting it up with a bare application of force.


    The weapon shifted upward, slowly diverted from its course by the slightest breeze before I finally released a spell of my own. Starting from the roots of my feet, a concentrated nova of force traveled along my legs, gained momentum in my chest, and then surged along my arms like a racing dragon, before erupting from the tip of my finger in a wave of translucent power.


    Inborn Force¨Cone of the sole remaining secret techniques of the Thyestes Clan. By building momentum in our physiques from the furthest points in our bodies, we could multiply it exponentially upon impact if we were precise. As a simple straight punch engaged power from the twist of the hips, so too did Inborn Force draw strength from the rest of the body.


    Taci¡¯s weapon flipped into the air, a spinning arc of bloody red as it tore itself from the young pantheon¡¯s hands once more. Yet before Taci could even comprehend what had happened, I shifted my legs, sweeping them across his broken stance. At the same time, I pushed his chest backward.


    Like sticks in stormwind, he buckled, falling flat on his back as his power was diverted. Taci wheezed as the breath was driven from his lungs, a crater opening beneath him as the momentum of his charge was turned against him. The stone rumbled and cracked as Taci blinked, disoriented and dazed from how I¡¯d shifted him.


    I held an open hand over Taci¡¯s face as I stared down at him.


    ¡°You understand brute force, Taci Thyestes,¡± I said calmly, ¡°but brute power alone does not a weapon make. We are force incarnate, Taci¨Cand that means all aspects of force.¡±


    I snapped my fist closed. Taci¡¯s blood-red spear, which had arced back down after surging into the sky, was halted from driving straight through his widened eyes as I caught it by the haft.


    ¡°A sword will break if one strikes it with a hammer,¡± I said in explanation. ¡°Steel can only flex so much before it warps and breaks¨Cand such is the nature of all things. So a warrior must angle their blade to divert force, to redirect it. Not once in our spar did I strike you true¨CI merely redirected you as a swordmaster parries a cut.¡±


    I flipped the spear, holding the bright red haft out to my young student. He stared at it in quiet awe for a barest moment, before reaching trembling hands out to grasp it.


    ¡°I think I understand, master,¡± he said as he pulled himself to his feet, covered nearly head to toe in dust and dirt.


    ¡°No, you do not,¡± I countered simply, brushing off a stray bit of grass from Taci¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But you will in time.¡±


    ¡°As great a teacher as ever, Aldir,¡± a familiar voice said from the side, the muted sound of applause echoing out. ¡°I see you have only honed the edge of your blade these past millennia. The path of the pantheon is one to be respected, old friend.¡±


    I turned to regard Windsom, the barest smirk gracing my face. The envoy of Kezess Indrath was dressed in his typical dark military uniform, his close-cropped, wheat-blonde hair reflecting the light of the training yard.


    Taci¡¯s eyes sharpened as he snapped into a stiff martial bow of respect, his spear ramrod straight at his side.


    ¡°It is my duty, and Taci is a worthy student. Though it may be many decades before he blossoms as a true warrior, that is but a blink in the eyes of those such as us.¡±


    Windsom¡¯s cosmic eyes sparkled as he observed Taci with interest. ¡°Come, walk with me. I have some news of the outside world that must be addressed.¡±


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    Sensing the serious nature of my old friend¡¯s words, my expression hardened. ¡°Continue your drills, Taci,¡± I said sharply, marching toward where Windsom waited expectantly. ¡°We will continue this at another time.¡±


    I left my student to trail next to one of my oldest friends among the Indraths. Though he had spoken his earlier words with an air of levity, I knew Windsom well enough to detect the undercurrent of tension in his voice.


    We meandered about the castle for a time, going in no particular direction¨Cor so I thought. But as we finally reached a specific tapestry, I knew the purpose of this meeting.


    The famous tapestry displayed Kezess Indrath¨Cyoung, or as young as the asura could fathom him¨Cat council with his former best friend, Mordain Asclepius.


    The Lost Prince.


    ¡°You are certain that Aurora Asclepius lives?¡± Windsom finally asked. ¡°And that she influenced the Lance artifacts?¡±


    I stared at the tapestry, my eye tracing the outline of Mordain¡¯s leisurely form.


    And beneath, the golden plaque. Let Rest.


    It wasn¡¯t widely known that Mordain and Kezess had fallen out over the topic of the djinn, but more well known was their collaborative effort in the wake of their meeting and resting of animosities between dragon and phoenix clans. The Lance artifacts were one of the sole creations ever jointly constructed by both Indrath and Asclepius, an ingenious melding of opposing viewpoints of aether.


    And the artifact that remained in my possession¨Cintended to bind the Lance, Olfred Warend to my will¨Chad been severed at the root.


    ¡°I saw her shade,¡± I said honestly, remembering the ghostly form of the long-gone phoenix defying my attempts to enable the artifact; to slay the one who had dared tamper with the connection. ¡°I know not if she truly lives, but her consciousness persists, tied to a lesser being.¡±


    Aurora Asclepius was one of the few warriors I treated with the highest respect. Her plasma arts¨Ca unique expression of power even among the asura¨Chad garnered her true prestige amongst the martial artists of Epheotus.


    Windsom¡¯s eyes narrowed as he continued to inspect the tapestry. ¡°Our spies in Alacrya have reported back hints of a rising power. A lesser called Spellsong recently rocked the stability of the continent, before being sent to war. Lord Indrath believes that this Spellsong is the lesser that you witnessed, and that Aurora Asclepius has somehow¡­ anchored herself to him. Or perhaps subsumed him entirely.¡±


    I remembered as the shade forced me back, her will matching mine as I lost ground in the mental struggle. ¡°You will not halt my son, Aldir Thyestes!¡± a phantom cry burned across my mind. ¡°His will is mine! And you shall not touch him!¡±


    My hands tensed behind my back. ¡°I believe that the first option is more likely,¡± I offered. ¡°Though we cannot know the true depths of this. Of what it means.¡±


    Very, very few knew that Mordain had left Epheotus with his clan after discovering the extermination of the djinn. Rumors were intentionally circulated that the Lost Prince had left to join Agrona himself, but those at the pinnacle of politics knew this to be a lie.


    Except now a phoenix was sighted, working to further Agrona¡¯s goals. Perhaps the ruse had some truth to it, then?


    And now Wren Kain has vanished, I thought with a growing sense of unease. Vanished without a trace or word on his whereabouts. And even with Kezess¡¯ calls for him to return, we have heard no word.


    It was well-known that the eccentric titan had a fondness for Aurora Asclepius¨Cbetter known as Lady Dawn. And in that moment, I thought there might have been some sort of connection.


    Aurora Asclepius, I thought, my fists clenching behind my back. There were very few among the asura that I considered the greatest warriors, but Lady Dawn was among those precious few. We had not known each other well, but we bore a mutual respect and understanding for the accomplishments we¡¯d each achieved. Her martial style bore echoes of the pantheons¡¯ philosophy of force, yet she had come to such mastery of her own accord.


    Windsom sighed. ¡°Lord Indrath has already decided a path forward to respond to this new development in the lessers¡¯ war,¡± he said. ¡°If Agrona fielded an asura of his own, even one reduced to a shade, that warrants a response.¡± His eyes darkened slightly. ¡°For the first time, Agrona himself has broken the treaty. The treaty barring any direct intervention of asura into the war.¡±


    I observed my friend as he turned to me, his head tilted. ¡°Our lord knows what action must be taken next to meet this breach. But I suggested that you, as the eminent warrior and trainer of our youth, would be able to offer input toward this matter.¡±


    I nodded slowly, understanding his implications¨Cand agreeing with them. Almost immediately, my mind flashed to a young warrior who wielded a red spear and knew nothing yet of true force.


    But he could certainly learn.


    Chul Asclepius


    Suncrusher was hot in my palms. That much was normal. As one of the few weapons the Asclepius Clan still bore, it needed to surge with the power of a star.


    Yet right now, I could feel the sweat slick on my palms more than just the heat of my weapon. My fingers trembled and my breath was short, each inhale seeming to take more of my strength.


    I¡¯d finally resolved myself. Finally determined that enough was enough. My Mother was out there somewhere¨Cand my uncle refused to take action. All the phoenixes in the Hearth refused to take action.


    Many times I¡¯d come upon this final doorway, asking myself if I would finally take the step I needed to go out into the unknown. And too many times I¡¯d turned back, too¡­ too afraid.


    I glared at the exit to the Hearth. A tall set of black wooden doors were inlaid with silver vines that had seen the rise and fall of ages, a graceful phoenix emblazoned in orange metal. Those doors had remained forever shut, locking me in this prison. Keeping me from the truth. They mocked me, taunted me for my fear. You think you can just leave? they said. Oh, look at little Chul. Look at his cowardice!


    ¡°I am no coward, fool door!¡± I suddenly shouted, the yawning shadow of the vine-clutched wood growing too dark. The sound traveled through the thin cavern walls, echoing in a mocking way. The eyes of the phoenix flashed with contempt. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I am no coward! the stones trilled in their flickering shadows. No coward! No coward! they echoed down and down and down.


    Coward! Coward Coward! the doors finally said at last, showing their true beliefs, painting my world in shades of yellow.


    I took a single faltering step back as I felt my arms tremble and my core ache, until¨C


    ¡°You are right about that, Chul,¡± a soft, familiar voice said. ¡°You¡¯re no coward.¡±


    My head snapped to the side, my hands tightening on Suncrusher as I spotted the one who had spoken.


    My uncle, Mordain Asclepius, lounged at the edges of the room. His ember-burned eyes watched me with a measure of¡­ sadness, I thought.


    ¡°You can not halt my flight,¡± I said, puffing my chest out as my mana flared. ¡°You made an oath to deliver news of my Mother, and you have failed. I bear every right to leave this place,¡± I continued sharply.


    Mordain sighed wearily, striding toward the ancient doors to the Hearth. I could not sense it, but I knew that nature magic wreathed the doors in a cloaking tangle. The spells woven into the very doors protected the phoenixes of my clan from discovery.


    My uncle brushed a slender hand across the doors, almost as if he were a father caressing a child. ¡°I¡¯m not here to stop you, Chul,¡± he said softly. ¡°I¡¯ve never used force to try and halt you. Only words.¡±


    ¡°Then I must go,¡± I said, feeling my resolve swell once more. None would stop me from reaping my vengeance; from learning what had become of my Mother. ¡°You claim you do not stop me, so move aside, uncle. Do not darken my path with fell omens.¡±


    My uncle¡¯s hand fell. ¡°I must implore that you stay,¡± he said solemnly. ¡°Please, Chul. I can promise you that if you remain here, then you will have your answers in time. But you must have patience.¡±


    ¡°Patience!¡± I yelled, stalking forward, forgetting in that instant the power my uncle kept leashed. But his words had sparked a long-simmering bonfire in the depths of my chest that made my heart thunder with fury. ¡°Always, you tell me to refrain! To watch from the boundary and make informed decisions!¡±


    I marched up to my uncle, my chest heaving with anger as it boiled forth. ¡°But my Mother has been dead for uncountable years! Within this prison of a Hearth, I know not even how long she has been slain, how long her murder has gone unaccounted for! Decades have passed since I have last borne witness to her face because you always demand I wait! And when I question you¨Cas you have always instructed me to do¨Cyou tell me that you know not the answers, or that the answers will come! You speak to me in riddles meant to confuse and baffle, and then act surprised when I wish to find another path!¡±


    Mordain weathered my tirade as a solemn monk sits out a storm. When I was done, my body was trembling and my aura quaked. Yet the Prince of the Asclepius Clan simply stared up at me with sad eyes.


    ¡°Kezess Indrath rules Epheotus through concrete rules and iron-fisted strength,¡± he finally said, and it was not the response I had expected. ¡°When one disobeys or moves outside of his vision, they are beaten back into line. And if they are foolish enough to express true individual thought, then they are removed entirely¨Cbecause there nothing can be suffered outside of Kezess¡¯ vision.¡±


    I blinked, surprised by this train of thought. My uncle rarely spoke of his old comrade, Lord of the Dragons. At any other time, I might have been eager to hear such a story.


    But now I saw only another confounding riddle. ¡°I am leaving this place, Uncle,¡± I spat, marching past the man who had raised me in absence of my father. I stepped before those mocking doors, ready to make my way into the world. I matched gazes with the inlaid phoenix as it shimmered with autumn fire. ¡°You cannot stop me.¡±


    ¡°I thought Kezess¡¯ methods just, once,¡± my uncle said behind me, his tone soft. ¡°It took me a long, long time to understand how unjust they were. To force another to your whims because they simply cannot understand, or see the same as you¡­ that is the mark of a tyrant. Of a monster.¡±


    Internally, I cursed myself as I paused, unable to wrench myself out of his words. Mordain had a way with stories¨Ca way of drawing me into them even when I wished to escape. Like the torrent of a whirlpool that slowly pulled you in, every word he said made you want to listen.


    Mordain waved his hand, tossing something to me. I caught the item, staring at it in uncomprehension. It was a simple bracelet of woven silver vines, but the spells entrenched within were deep with nature magic and confounding mazes. ¡°What is this, Uncle?¡± I demanded, feeling uncertain from holding the item.


    ¡°The Dicathian war hinges on a lack of asuran intervention. That bracelet is woven with effects that will mask your nature as an asura to all who try to pry,¡± he said softly, turning away. ¡°I will not stop you from leaving, Chul. You are free. You always have been. But you will not find what you seek out in the great, wide world. I hope you will return to us when your understanding has grown.¡±


    I blinked, feeling as if I had been forced into a wrong-footed stance during a spar. I felt as if any words I uttered would be turned around to bite at me, so I simply closed my fist around the silver vines.


    Then I gnashed my teeth, my fear of the outside world clashing with my desire to turn around and hurl petty insults at my uncle once more. But too long had I been caged. Too long had news of my Mother¡¯s Fate been withheld from me.


    I wrapped the braided band around my wrist, immediately sensing as a sort of filter wove around and through my mana signature. I scoffed, then laid my hands on the ancient doors to the Hearth. The wood was coarse to the touch, grating and biting¨Cjust as I¡¯d expected.


    I pushed the doors open, ready to enter the world. To reap vengeance on the Vritra and to discover the truth of my Mother.

 Chapter 220: Lesser Tendencies

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Wren Kain IV


    I wrinkled my nose as I floated through the lesser sewers, the stench of excretion and bodily fluids scraping at my sinus cavities. My earthen chair edged around a particularly nasty buildup of dung and slime.


    I¡¯d initially been mildly impressed by the technology Agrona Vritra had managed to scrounge up for his lesser minions to use when I¡¯d reached Alacrya. Mana panels that projected moving images, identification and functioning facilities for the majority of the populace, and more tools and items made ordinary living trivial for the common lesser.


    But you can¡¯t even properly regulate your own excrement, I thought with annoyance. The design of these tunnels is impractical. The layout is inefficient for fluid transfer and shifting of large mass.


    I wouldn¡¯t mind getting my hands on the idiot who¡¯d designed this atrocity of a waste management system so I could show them exactly why this was an atrocity.


    I slowed in my trek through the grim darkness, focusing the barest bit. Then I turned to the brick walls directly beside me as I sensed my quarry. I narrowed my eyes as the earth mana conveyed the truth of the mechanism.


    Primitive.


    A miniature golem of earth pulled itself from the stones beneath me, before striding forward through the muck. It tapped specific bricks in the order I knew they needed, before the entire wall folded in on itself.


    My golem dissolved back into motes of earth mana as my chair hovered through the gap. Not a bare second after I¡¯d entered the underground room, the wall closed behind me automatically.


    ¡°Interesting construction,¡± I snorted, peering around the rooms. They appeared to have once been well-lived in, but hadn¡¯t seen much use in the past months. I narrowed my eyes as I floated further in, inspecting the support columns and various abandoned hallways.


    I suspected this place had originally been used as a place to store rainwater for the populace of lessers above, but as magic became more engrained and the need for relying on rainwater decreased, the petty mages had no use for this cistern any longer.


    And thus, some bottom-dwellers probably found an excuse to use this place as their own.


    Whatever. That wasn¡¯t why I was here.


    I pulled an item from my pocket, annoyed by the dust falling from the ceiling. Why couldn¡¯t those architects use better earth magic? Then every shake and tumble wouldn¡¯t coat me in debris!


    With an annoyed click of my teeth, I snapped the goggles I¡¯d prepared for this moment onto my face¨Cand immediately, my vision lit up with a dozen different colors. Differing shades of red, blue, green, yellow, and darker specks all surged in their own unique patterns as the mana itself was revealed to me.


    One of the Indrath Clan¡¯s greatest techniques was Realmheart. As evidenced by the training of Arthur Leywin, users under the influence of the technique could see mana particles as they moved and drifted through the world. After taking notes and cataloging the boy¡¯s ability, I¡¯d created a device that allowed me something similar¨Cwithout telling good old Kezzy, of course.


    I wrinkled my nose as I scanned the damp room, tracking the different particles of mana as they moved. Not perfect, I internally acknowledged, noting the inefficiencies in my design. The goggles were more adept at picking out mana flow and movement rather than individual particles. Neither could it see aether. If I wanted this to become a true masterpiece, I¡¯d use the ember of Sacred Fire that burned with me¨Cbut that would draw too much attention. But I¡¯d like to see any prissy dragon try and make something like this. Eventually, even they can be surpassed through technology.


    I forced those thoughts from my mind. I was searching for a very distinct trace¨Cone I¡¯d chased across a continent. And as my chair of conjured earth hovered deeper into the dank hovel, I thought I caught a glimpse¡­


    My fingers tensed on the edges of my chair as I spotted it¨Ca unique mix of fire-red and dark green sound. I couldn¡¯t make out the distinct particles, but the way the two flowed together¨C


    I sighed in annoyance, then conjured a small golem from the floors. The lifelike construction turned on its heels, then sprinted toward the edges of the room. I felt my brows furrow as I allowed my chair to turn.


    My conjured golem returned in a blitz, a squirming rodent caught in its grip. The little rat fought and bit and tore at the hands of the stone automaton holding it, thrashing desperately. Yet the moment it was brought before me, it stilled, its little chest heaving with terror.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s see what you are, hmmm?¡± I said irritatedly, hovering closer. I raised a finger to my goggles, changing the frequency. My vision of all four elements cycled as I twisted a dial, slowly honing in on one in particular.


    Finally, I selected the pure mana option. My golem hovered before me, holding the rat for me to see as its breathing became something beyond panicked. From how fast its heart was beating, I was sure it might have a heart attack any second now.


    And sure enough, a current of pure mana flowed around the head of the little creature, indicating it was connected to someone.


    ¡°It¡¯s rude to spy on someone, you know,¡± I muttered at the rat¨Cto whoever was on the other end. ¡°That¡¯s universal, I¡¯m sure, regardless of your inefficiencies as a species. You can¡¯t be that primitive.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, observing the interplay of mana inside the rat. It appeared the accelerated heartbeat and fear response was entirely independent of the actual spell controlling it. Interesting¡­ So the spell only acted on certain parts of the brain? Or perhaps the control was slipping?


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to drop the rat, hobo,¡± a cheery voice said from behind me. ¡°Or else you¡¯ll drop your hands, next.¡±


    I noted several mana signatures surrounding me¨Clessers, by the sense of it. At the same time, the air around me warped strangely as mana agitated the air in a precise application of sound magic. I felt a buzz of mana trying to rattle the cornea in my eye, but with the paltry level of the effect, it did nothing.


    My chair turned, allowing me to spot the intruders. Four in total¨Ceach reasonably powerful for lessers, if I used Arthur Leywin as the highest metric. The one on the far left was short and overweight for his species, with greasy gray hair and a mask that looked vaguely like a badger. I could sense he was the source of the disrupting sound magic in the air that still


    tried to attack my cornea.


    I narrowed my eyes as I observed his girth, unaffected by his spell. I would have to collect more data points, but I was sure this one would probably die in a decade. Obesity was a scourge to the lessers¡¯ health, wasn¡¯t it? Maybe he would die in a year instead. They all seemed to keel over whenever you weren¡¯t looking.


    ¡°Tell me, lesser,¡± I said, finding this train of thought interesting, ¡°How long does it take for the fat ones to die on this continent? Obesity is a killer, isn¡¯t it? Surely you have social programs to stop you from eating.¡±


    While the middle one¨Cthe one who had spoken to me first¨Cstruggled not to break out into laughter for reasons I couldn¡¯t comprehend, the fat one with the badger mask shifted backward nervously, taking on a combat stance. ¡°Miss Rat, Myopic Decay isn¡¯t working on this bugger,¡± he slurred gruffly. ¡°His vision¡¯s unaffected. Not seeing double or anything. Can¡¯t tell if it''s because of mana output or sheer resistance, but he can see us just fine.¡±


    The one called Rat stopped snickering pretty quickly. She had dark hair tied back into a braid, and I could see her eyes narrow behind her rodent mask. The other two mages¨Ca man with white hair and a woman with navy locks¨Cgradually moved with practiced efficiency to flank me.


    Rat¡¯s mana flared as she settled into something more guarded, staring at me from behind her mask. ¡°I told you once. Let go of the rat, hobo.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, looking at the rodent in my golem¡¯s grip, then back to the woman called Rat. My brows furrowed in annoyance. The golem dropped the rat, allowing it to scurry back into the darkness with a chitter. ¡°Dragons above, I didn¡¯t realize how backward you lessers were,¡± I said, feeling genuinely shocked. Leywin¡¯s continent wasn¡¯t like this, was it? ¡°Calling animals family and taking on their names isn¡¯t healthy psychological behavior, regardless of race.¡±


    Though maybe this was one of Agrona¡¯s projects¨Cforcing all the humans to adopt animals as family and take on their names. While I wouldn¡¯t mind reading the results of such a study, it was more than morally bankrupt.


    I squinted at Badger. ¡°There aren¡¯t any badgers down here, are there? Those bastards are hardly tame. I wonder how Agrona managed to make you think they¡¯re anything like family.¡±


    Badger laughed uproariously from the depths of his belly, while Rat sputtered incredulously. ¡°No, we don¡¯t treat animals like family!¡± she protested, stomping a foot. ¡°It¡¯s a moniker, you idiot! It¡¯s thematic and everything! Can¡¯t you see the masks? We¡¯re the Menagerie!¡± she added, gesturing wildly to her face.


    Yet even as she appeared outwardly annoyed by my comment, Rat didn¡¯t offer any openings past her to the door. Clever girl, I supposed.


    I snorted. Whatever.


    I started to turn in my chair, already dismissing these fools. I¡¯d heard that sometimes lessers on Dicathen dressed up as different mana beasts for holidays, but that was mostly done by children. I¡¯d thought on cursory inspection that these were all adults, but perhaps there were larger differences in race between Alacrya and Dicathen after Agrona¡¯s experimentation.


    I was just about ready to go back to my search when a blood-red blade, easily four and a half feet long, appeared in front of my face, the edge poised to cut directly into me.


    Basilisk blood, I thought with renewed interest as my eyes focused on the material in front of me. Hardened and refined in a way I don¡¯t recognize. If I wanted to learn more, I¡¯d have to do some tests¨Cbut to make a true blade solely of the substance?


    ¡°As amusing as it is watching the Rat stutter and stumble over herself¨Cthank you for that, by the way¨CI¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t just let you snoop around the Cistern so easily, mage.¡±


    The one holding a sword was a woman with long navy hair and scarlet eyes that seemed to glimmer behind her mask. Her mask itself was made of the same metallic substance all the others were, except this one bore painted whiskers and feline ears. A cat, I guessed.


    ¡°That¡¯s an idiotic thing to say,¡± I said derisively, my eyes tracing the basilisk blood sword. It appeared to be manufactured under extremely high pressure¨Cprobably with gravity magic if the lingering traces of deviant earth mana I detected around it told me anything. ¡°You¡¯re clearly not afraid at all. So why say you are? You lessers are always so confusing.¡± I squinted my eyes, noticing something odd about this Cat¡¯s mana signature.


    I raised a single hand to my goggles, the action making everyone in the room tense and flare their mana. I ignored it as I pressed another button on my eyewear, increasing the focus of the device.


    I narrowed my eyes as they traced all over Cat¡¯s body, a hidden mana flow sputtering into existence as the heightened abilities of my goggles revealed the truth beneath. I traced that flow all toward a single point¨Cthe center of her chest. Probably an artifact of some sort.


    ¡°And your cloaking artifact is pathetic,¡± I said with a dismissive wave. ¡°If the manufacturer really wanted to hide those horns on your head, they¡¯d use a multi-modal interweave to make the mana flow nigh indistinguishable instead of the common stream technique. Tell them not to release awful products.¡±


    The one I¡¯d crafted specifically for this venture used techniques even more advanced¨Cbut I wasn¡¯t revealing my secrets. But I wouldn¡¯t tolerate anything that egregious.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Cat¡¯s body went rigid as she stared at me, her grip on her large sword tightening. She shared a glance with a few people around the room, but I was already bored of the conversation. I twisted a dial on my glasses and tapped a button, changing the frequency and focus back to their original state as I hovered back toward where I¡¯d spotted the interplay of sound and fire mana from before.


    The sound of weapons being prepared echoed in the air as everyone around me settled into combat stances, each ready to fight me for whatever reason. I kept my eyes focused on the interplay of sound and fire, tracing it toward a door on the far end of the cistern.


    ¡°Just go away wherever,¡± I said as I began to hover toward the edge, my eyes focused on the room far away. ¡°I¡¯ll leave your nest when I¡¯m done so you can go back to your roleplay, or whatever it is.¡±


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± a surprisingly even voice said from behind me. ¡°Answer us now¨Cor we¡¯ll have no choice but to attack.¡±


    I turned to observe Rat as she glared at me, stroking my chin in thought. Now that I thought about it, if all traces pointed back here and these characters were all ready to try and defend their little hovel¡­


    ¡°You idiots wouldn¡¯t happen to have a bird among you, would you?¡± I asked, noting the different masks worn by these fools. ¡°She would have fiery red hair, orange eyes, and would certainly be smarter than you cretins.¡±


    I watched with growing irritation as confusion painted its way across most of the faces around me. Though all were ready to fight and fling their paltry spells, only furrowed brows and disguised questions met my own.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got the wrong zoo, hobo,¡± Rat said slowly, ¡°but you¡¯re still going to tell us how you found this place.¡±


    Except for one. The only one who hadn¡¯t spoken so far¨Cthe man with the white hair and the mask with many eyes¨Cstiffened ever-so-slightly. My gaze snapped to him immediately. ¡°You,¡± I said sharply, pointing at the white-haired one. ¡°Tell me what you know.¡±


    The mana around me began to churn as the two women behind me began to charge their spells, sensing some sort of threat.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± white-hair said loudly to his animal compatriots. ¡°Don¡¯t attack him. You can¡¯t fight what he is.¡±


    I floated closer, feeling as if I¡¯d finally found a lead. Finally! After so, so long. After centuries. ¡°Tell me, lesser,¡± I demanded, tapping my fingers on the edges of my seat, ¡°what do you know about Lady Dawn?¡±


    Badger grumbled something, but the effect trying to target my cornea didn¡¯t relent. ¡°Boy, you better give me a good reason why we shouldn¡¯t put daggers between this oaf¡¯s eyes,¡± he said with a slight slur.


    ¡°Just trust me,¡± white-hair said with gritted teeth, seeming unsure as if to run or fight. But it appeared he alone knew the impossibility of both.


    My eyes belatedly traced over the strange contraption attached to white-hair¡¯s arm. And I felt my eyes widen.


    It wasn¡¯t attached to his arm¨Cit was his arm. And from the mana-flow readings noted by my goggles, the brass-coated arm wasn¡¯t held in place by mana at all. I resisted the urge to tremble, cursing the emotions of my body as I stared at the bronze arm. What I witnessed was certainly an impressive feat on its own¨Cfrom my own cursory inspection I could detect half a dozen different gadgets expertly pushed into the craft. And if I were right, there were options for modular attachments and devices within as well.


    But that wasn¡¯t why I hesitated. My chair melted away underneath me as I finally settled down on my feet. I walked toward the boy, feeling a strange air of disbelief as I leaned forward, inspecting the craft.


    ¡°She made this for you,¡± I said quietly, looking at the mechanical arm. It was crafted with the utmost care, but there was only one thing that could suture it to his shoulder. Lifeforce. ¡°Aurora did, didn¡¯t she?¡±


    White-hair¡¯s eyes hardened behind his many-eyed mask. Unlike all the others, his bore no accentuating features beyond the many pupils spotted around. ¡°She isn¡¯t here,¡± he said in a short, clipped tone. ¡°You should leave. Now.¡± S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I tilted my head as I rubbed at my jaw. ¡°You¡¯re a smart one, aren¡¯t you? At least for your small brain. You appear to be the only one here who figured out what I am¨Cwhich means you know it would be idiotic to lie to me.¡±


    White-hair worked his jaw, and I could hear how fast his heart was thundering in his chest. ¡°She isn¡¯t here, asura,¡± he said. ¡°She left this place a long time ago.¡±


    As the word asura rumbled outward, the others of this little ¡®Menagerie¡¯ shied backward or cursed in disbelief. The one called Rat reeled backward, then started to speak. ¡°No way this hobo is a¨C¡±


    Badger punched her hard in the arm. ¡°Shut up, Rat,¡± he said, his spell finally snapping as he realized it wouldn¡¯t work. ¡°I didn¡¯t sign up for this, you crazy witch! An asura in a sewer! By Melzri¡¯s tits!¡± he cursed.


    I stared at White-hair for a moment longer.


    Then I sighed, running a hand through my bedraggled hair. I pointed a finger at the man, wanting to get a few things straight. ¡°Look, lesser. I¡¯m not here to ruin your day or mess up your little nest or whatever. But you are going to tell me where Aurora went¨Cbecause you clearly know.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t lead you to them,¡± White-hair said sharply, his body shaking the barest bit as he resolved himself. ¡°I won¡¯t be the one to doom them. You¡¯ll have to take me to the pits of Taegrin Caelum, asura.¡±


    I peeled back my goggles, revealing my eyes to the boy in front of me. ¡°Do I look like a basilisk to you?¡± I said with a snort. ¡°Their methods are crude and wasteful. I¡¯m offended that you¡¯d even make the implication.¡± My eyes snapped to the side. ¡°That room over there has the most traces of sound and fire mana¨Cthe interweave of plasma is her specialty. So I know she spent time here¨Cprobably a lot, considering the notable remnants even after time. And considering your pathetic lifespan as a lesser, we both know I¡¯m the one who will win in a contest of waiting.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t questioned the lessers of Fiachra, thinking them inconsequential in my search. If Aurora were to be free, I found it more likely she¡¯d hide herself amidst the depths, not making her presence known. Yet it appeared at least some had heard of her.


    ¡°And if you won¡¯t tell me anything, then I can just ask above,¡± I said with a snort, turning around. ¡°Someone probably knows about a phoenix who can shoot plasma beams.¡±


    I observed the trio around me¨Cand aha! I snapped my fingers, noting the flashes of recognition in most present. ¡°There, see? Plasma. That¡¯s the key. Nobody else could figure it out or get the combination right, even among the Asclepius. She said it was because of her music that she knew the right frequencies, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± White-hair said from behind me. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t go to the surface. Don¡¯t talk about it so openly!¡±


    I turned, raising a skeptical brow. ¡°I¡¯m an asura, brat. Do you really think you can tell me what not to do?¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t risk blatantly asking random people about a phoenix¨Cthat was a good way to catch Agrona Vritra¡¯s attention. But these lessers didn¡¯t know that.


    ¡°She¡¯s attached to someone. As a shade. A spirit,¡± White-hair eventually said. ¡°But she¡¯s not here anymore. She left months ago,¡± he repeated stubbornly, unwilling to reveal anything.


    I noted the reactions of both Cat and Rat. It appeared from their barely veiled surprise that they knew who White-hair was talking about, but not this specific information. Badger just seemed intoxicated.


    I ground my teeth, sensing that I probably wouldn¡¯t get much more out of this mage. He was too determined to protect his friend¨Cbut just this information changed my entire prerogative. The phoenixes were masters of reincarnating into their own bodies¨Chad Aurora somehow failed? Or was this lesser lacking information?


    No matter. I could just find another lesser¨C


    My body tensed up, and I was suddenly wrenched from my thoughts as I stared straight upward. The stone offered no barrier to me as I sensed far beyond it¡­ specks. Echoes. Ghosts.


    Wraiths.


    My sudden movement made all present shift nervously, their fear stinking the air. ¡°Boy, what is your moniker?¡± I said sharply, my eyes still focused on the ceiling.


    ¡°I¡¯m the Spider,¡± he said after a tense moment. He tensed, clearly expecting me to retaliate. To offer some sort of ultimatum.


    I snorted. ¡°A fitting name, I guess,¡± I said. ¡°But you¡¯re going to need more eyes.¡±


    I reached up, taking my goggles off my face. They were colored a sleek black, the lenses within tested to withstand nearly anything I could throw at them. The mechanisms inside¨Cthough only a prototype¨Cpushed the bounds of what was possible with mana.


    I tossed the goggles to Spider. He caught them in confusion, before engaging his magic. A yellow sheen overtook the goggles as he used some sort of inspection spell.


    ¡°Holy fuck,¡± Spider cursed, his hands clenching around the goggles as his eyes blew wide.


    ¡°Keep those safe, Spider¨Cand tell nobody of her. For her own sake. You were annoyingly correct to withhold information, even from me,¡± I said, turning on my heels and marching away. ¡°And if you want those cloaking artifacts improved, obscure the mana flow better. It¡¯s too centralized,¡± I directed to Rat and Cat. They both shared disturbed looks as I shoved them from my mind.


    Then I looked at Badger. He swayed slightly, his jaw slack as he looked back at me. Intoxicated, probably. ¡°And you,¡± I said pointedly, ¡°eat less. You are overweight for your race.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a prick,¡± Badger said, seeming to disbelieve he even said the words.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m a titan,¡± I said in response. ¡°Stop saying stupid things. You have the cranial capacity for observation. Or maybe you don¡¯t if you use that vision disruption magic on yourself all the time.¡±


    I strolled toward the edge of the wall, internally making plans as my senses alerted me. I¡¯d been dodging Agrona¡¯s hunters for the better part of a few weeks, leaving half a dozen false trails and obscuring my goals, before finally reaching Fiachra. Yet they¡¯d somehow tracked me here. The rest of the Menagerie stood in tense, uncertain silence as I faced the brick wall.


    ¡°Spider,¡± I said, the words pulling themselves from my gut, ¡°did you ever hear her sing?¡±


    The masked man shifted uncomfortably. ¡°No,¡± he eventually said. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± I said, my shoulders slumping. ¡°Keep up the good work on that arm, lesser. The modularity you implemented is genius.¡±


    Then I stepped forward into the wall, allowing it to subsume me. The moment the earth closed around me, I surged like a fish in water, the stone itself twisting and molding to allow me passage. I went low, allowing the call of the stone to draw me deeper as I continued to move.


    I¡¯d been playing a delicate dance with Agrona¡¯s half-blood warriors for the better part of a month. I didn¡¯t know exactly how they could sense me¨Cbut every time they got close, I improved my cloaking device just a little bit more, and they lost me again. Thus I was free for a time, and the cycle repeated.


    If Agrona weren¡¯t such a wasteful loon with his resources, I thought as I surged through the earth southward, I wouldn¡¯t mind working with him. But he doesn¡¯t know how to run a society at all. Just those sewers are enough to prove his lunacy.


    This time, though¨Cthis time felt different. As I moved, my senses told me I was still being followed, even miles out from the city of Fiachra. I swerved and shifted like a Darvish sandshark, but no matter what direction I took, the pursuit continued.


    I grumbled in internal annoyance as I ducked a swath of granite. My only chance was if I could find time to improve my cloaking artifact again and slip the noose tightening around my throat. But to do that¡­


    Fine. Play it your way, I thought with simmering anger. The only person I had ever danced with was Aurora Asclepius, but if they kept insisting, I¡¯d grant them their petty waltz.


    Let¡¯s dance, lessurans, I thought, emerging from the earth at last.


    I found myself in the depths of a forest, the boughs filled with silver leaves and glimmering mana. Clarwood, I was certain. But this deep beneath the canopy, the sunlight of the sky didn¡¯t reach the ground.


    ¡°Are you done running, mouse?¡± a bittersweet voice said from afar. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have expected such cowardice from the great Wren Kain IV.¡±


    I stared coolly upward, noting the half-breed as she faced me. With long hair the color of black pitch and curdled blood eyes, she looked like something out of the old stories. When the Wraith smiled, elongated fangs glinted in the low light. ¡°My name is Perhata, asura. Know this name to be the last you¡¯ll ever hear.¡±


    A mass of blood iron spikes, each twisting and writhing, surged toward me from the trees. Half a dozen golems of ornate earth leapt to meet the dark attack, each wielding weapons and ready to fight. They collided in a cacophonous explosion, black lightning erupting from the center of the iron spikes and using my summoned sentinels to conduct itself toward me.


    I raised a single fist as the decay-aspected lightning approached me, the half-breed lessuran nowhere to be seen. ¡°You should use your head, lessuran,¡± I said grumpily, before slamming my fist into the earth.


    A shockwave rippled out as the earth mana trembled. Like the effects of a stone hitting a pond, the dirt around me shuddered in undulating waves as the power I¡¯d imbued traveled outward, uprooting trees and obliterating anything in its path. The wave of power brushed aside the black-blue lightning, the earthquake churning the stones as it surged like a tidal wave.


    In barely a moment, I was left in a clearing easily four hundred feet wide. Broken trees and decimated landscape greeted me as I turned my eyes to the sky. I snorted with derision as I noticed the flitting dark figures in the air above, all having escaped the radius of my attack. Twenty Wraiths total circled me like gnats, their intent and bloodlust honing in on me alone.


    Cementing my resolve, I called on the earth mana all around me. The stone itself warped and shifted as a sailing ship conjured entirely of stone slowly rose into the sky with me at its helm. Tacks and sheets flew as a hundred conjured minions worked at their stations, manning cannons and preparing for battle. A few golems hefted massive cannonballs to their stations, ready to unleash hell upon our adversaries. With the touch of Sacred Fire coursing through my magic, everything became a bit more real. A bit more true. The very essence of the heat pushed them toward reality, inching ever-so-close to true life.


    And far, far more dangerous.


    I stood at the wheel of the massive ship, glaring upward at Perhata where she hovered as a vanguard. The half-vritra woman carried a long sword of black iron that seemed to drink in the light, the edge crackling with black lightning.


    ¡°My name is Wren Kain IV, thousandth and last wielder of the Sacred Fire,¡± I said sharply, my voice traveling into the air as the Wraiths prepared for battle and my summons readied their weapons, ¡°and you should know that your petty clones won¡¯t scratch a hem of my robes.¡±

 Chapter 221: The Depths of the Soul [End of Book 4]

    Toren Daen


    I lounged in the center of my rooms, feeling the push and pullof the mana within my core. With every inhale, a little more mana streamed through my veins, and with every exhale, I slowly edged closer to my goal.


    It had been many, many months since my ascension to the silver core. And as the deluge of Aurora¡¯s mana within my nexus of power continued without ceasing, I scraped closer and closer to the power of the white core.


    Until now, when I was on the brink.


    I inhaled, feeling not just the rush of power, but of emotion. I acknowledged my fear, cloying and pervasive. Side by side was my rationality and reason, keeping me in check and supporting my goals. Here and there, anger and hate lingered on the outskirts¨Cthe traces of Agrona and my enemies still taking space in my mind. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And surrounding it all was hope, suffusing my very being.


    It hadn¡¯t been long since my talk with Seris. As my thoughts lingered on the silver-haired beauty, I noted the increase in passion that subconsciously coursed through my veins. As my thoughts drifted toward that sole kiss, I felt my concentration waver.


    Acknowledge it, I thought, taking a deep breath as I centered myself, and let it flow.


    ¡°Once you reach the white core stage, it will be time for your true abilities to grow,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice feathered across my mind. ¡°You have struggled to assimilate knowledge from my Will because you lack the inherent insight of an asura¡¯s mana core¨Cour natural control of organic magic and connection to the material plane. But that shall burden you no longer.¡±


    ¡°Soon,¡± I muttered, my eyes closed as I sat in a meditative pose, my arms resting on my knees, ¡°soon, the ground will not hold me.¡±


    I would be reborn in fire and flight.


    I inhaled deeply, the ambient mana flexing. Like a man who pressed a piano key, the rumbling vibrations seemed to twist and warp the very air around me as the world itself sensed my ascension. Though I was underground in the depths of Burim, I might as well have been beneath the open sky.


    Aurora¡¯s feather surged with mana, scraping away the last impurities on the inside of my silver core. But for the last push, all I needed was to¡­


    An ache of pain twisted from my center as those brilliant white cracks spread further across the surface of my core. I winced, wondering if this was what it was like for a butterfly to wrench itself from a cocoon. I hissed slightly as those cracks spread, the pain arcing with it.


    ¡°Steady, my son,¡± Aurora said soothingly into my ear, centering my meditative state. ¡°Steady. This is a balance.¡±


    I inhaled, noting the pain as well. It flashed red like pincers in my mind, and though it tempted me away from peace, I had experienced far worse. More brilliant white cracks spread.


    And as those cracks spread, I found my attention shifting to my pulsing heartfire. The nimbus of energy beating around my heart, it was¡­ swelling, expanding as my core gradually advanced. A beautiful interplay of mana and aether danced in the recesses of my psyche as the bonfire grew and grew, both nurtured by my mana core and simultaneously protecting it.


    I¡¯d tried many ways to force my mana and personal aether to interact¨Cand though I¡¯d finally divined a pseudo-method through Resonant Flow, that was more of a sideways implementation. But as I watched the mana nurturing my heart onward like a hearthmother, I finally realized the foolishness of my thoughts.


    The world and the self, I thought headily, unsure of where the words came from. The world encourages the self to grow, but the self must also stand firm in the face of the world. They mix and they mingle, like yin and yang. But for both to exist, there must be a line. A curtain of shadow.


    Mana cannot interact with heartfire any more than a mother can force their child to grow, I realized. To do so would be to harm, to denigrate. So mana can only intervene in steps when it is necessary. When it is possible.


    That,


    I thought distantly, feeling as if light were scouring through the recesses of my mind, that is the essence of the Soul.


    And my vision went white.


    ¡ª


    I blinked my eyes awake, feeling a strange sense of quiet in the depths of my soul. I felt unweighted, entirely distant from concepts such as stress and fatigue. My body felt warm. Safe. Comfortable.


    I stood atop a familiar reflective lake, the edges expanding far and away. Each movement I took sent little cascading ripples through the water, reflections of light skittering across the surface like fireflies. The surface of the water might as well have been a mirror.


    A warm, inviting sun seemed to kiss the edges of the horizon no matter where I looked, shining in a gentle caress that made any thoughts of pain or sorrow slowly simmer away. This was the kind of sunrise I could sit and drink a hot cup of coffee to, watching as its rays slowly kissed mountains.


    I knew not how long I stared at that distant star in quiet awe. It painted the entire skyline in oranges and pinks that seemed to radiate pure emotion itself. While the sky above faded toward an infinite blackness behind me, I could not draw my attention away from that star¨Cso close, yet so distant.


    ¡°The Sea of the Soul,¡± I whispered, my body unnaturally loose. I remembered this place¨CI had been here twice before, after all. Once when I first became Twinsoul, Toren and I merging into one. And the second time when Aurora had sacrificed part of herself to reforge my body.


    I¡¯d met Norgan, then, on the edges of my very soul.


    ¡°Even in all the phoenixes¡¯ vast expanse of knowledge about death and rebirth, this place¡­ This place is different, my son. I spend my time here, staring out into the darkness. Wondering. Hoping.¡±


    I turned to the side. Aurora stood beside me, quietly resolute. Except when I witnessed her in the waking world, she was phantasmal and ethereal. Her eyes burned like stars and she appeared to be fashioned from the light itself.


    Here¡­ Here, she seemed solid. More real. She didn¡¯t radiate an outline of dawnlight like some sort of ephemeral goddess, and neither did her eyes burn. No¨Cher eyes were like my own, simple ember pupils instead of an unending expanse of fire.


    I raised a hand slowly, pointing at the glimmering sun far in the infinite expanse. ¡°That¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked, feeling as the sunlight washed away my aches and pains.


    Aurora smiled. As I saw my bond¡¯s lips stretch into a soft grin, I watched it with as much awe as the earlier sun. Without the glare of her eyes burning like stars, she seemed so much more¡­ so much more human. I noticed things I didn¡¯t when she was a shade¨Cthe barest indication of laugh lines at the edges of her eyes and mouth seemed to stand out as she stared at me with a measure of pride. Her pupils flickered warmly.


    ¡°That is my soul, Toren,¡± she said softly. ¡°At least as you perceive it. A morning star.¡±


    I blinked, turning to look back at the ever-rising sun. I knew that an infinite expanse of black space stretched behind me, but right now, I faced the sunrise. ¡°I can feel it,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Your soul¡­ It gravitates towards mine. As does mine to yours. I don¡¯t think I understand.¡±


    My bond wrapped me in a simple embrace, staring off at her own soul. ¡°I don¡¯t understand either, Toren,¡± Aurora said¨Cand she seemed happy with that. Truth be told, it was hard to feel any uncertainty upon the ever-still lake of my soul. ¡°So it seems we¡¯ll have to learn to understand this together, hmm?¡±


    My bond released me, before ruffling my hair in a way that made a bit of warmth rush to my cheeks. I coughed, finally turning away from the burning nimbus that was my bond¡¯s soul.


    And I finally stared into the infinite cosmos beyond.


    When I had last been here, I¡¯d spoken with Norgan on the edge of infinity, finding the resolve to push forward once more and accept Aurora both as my bond and as my mother. I¡¯d never truly questioned how Norgan could have been there, when he had died so long ago. Yet I¡¯d known deep in my soul that it was him, come back to speak with me once more.


    And as I stared into the void, which had at one point just been an empty expanse, I saw shapes silhouetted against the light of my bond¡¯s soul. I squinted my eyes, trying to focus and banish the effervescent dark.


    I could see¡­ a collection of theater masks of black ivory, encompassing a veil of shadows. When the light of the sun struck the mask, the material seemed to shrivel and burn. Yet even as the masks smoldered, the shadows beneath stayed contained, hiding whatever was within. I knew not what lurked in that darkness, but I knew that whatever those masks hid was something deep and dangerous.


    Not ugly. Not horrific, like the mask seemed to think. But dangerous nonetheless.


    And not far away¡­ There was a crown cemented together by family and steel. The golden crown was littered with innumerable cracks, Grey light seeping from its battered surface. Yet a tapestry woven of memories themselves sutured shut those cracks like a surgeon¡¯s wire. Not far away, a vine sought growth as it weaved around suppression, silver flowers blooming as it inched closer and closer to the crown. Between and beyond them both was an opal egg that shimmered and danced, pulling the two closer and closer.


    Like anchors.


    And at once, I knew what I witnessed. I knew what the void beyond represented.


    ¡°These are souls,¡± I said in wonder, transfixed by the churning mass of shadows cloaked by a theater mask. ¡°As¡­ As I understand them. And as the people understand themselves.¡±


    I knew not how I could feel my own heartbeat¨Cfor on some instinctual level, I understood that the avatar I inhabited was merely a way for me to compartmentalize something too vast, too intricate and dense for my normal mind to handle. Yet as I stared at Seris¡¯ soul¨Cso beautiful, enchanting in its shadows¨CI felt my heartbeat quicken.


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    ¡°How?¡± I whispered to my bond, tracing the flares of darkness that seemed bound within the smoldering masks far in the distance. ¡°How am I witnessing this?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Aurora said again, her eyes fondly tracing the outline of Arthur¡¯s soul as Tessia¡¯s tried desperately to inch closer, bound together by Sylvie¡¯s warmth. ¡°This is your soul, Toren. And while the arts of the Asclepius knew of the soul, they focused on the body more innately. This is unique to you, my bond.¡±


    I swallowed, tracing the vast void beyond. Would I see Hofal in the great expanse if I peered deep enough into the abyss? Karsien¡¯s spirit?


    Was Greahd¡¯s soul out there somewhere, drifting on eddies of reflectionless black?


    I sighed, closing my eyes as I recognized the futility of such questions. Maybe one day I could delve into where souls went after death, but¨C


    Something landed on my shoulder. I opened my eyes in surprise, staring down at whatever it was. I came face to face with a small sparrow-like creature¨Cexcept it appeared to be made entirely of fire. It chittered and hopped on my shoulder, swiveling its head as it peered from Aurora, to me, and back.


    My bond chuckled lightly, holding out a hand. The little fiery sparrow hopped happily onto Aurora¡¯s outstretched fingers, trilling contentedly. She raised her finger to her face, the little fire-bird nuzzling its face against her cheek.


    I was about to ask a question, but Lady Dawn was faster. ¡°This is someone you know very well, Toren. In fact, we both know this presence intimately.¡±


    I stared at the little fiery bird, squinting as I tried to place it. The bird stared back, tilting its head before chirping lightly.


    My eyes widened. ¡°My Phoenix Will?¡± I said, feeling utterly dumbfounded. I always knew that my Will had a level of sentience, but this¡­


    The fiery songbird hopped from Aurora¡¯s finger, circling us several times before darting into the sky. It trailed a bright orange streak as it slowly ascended, seeming to grow impossibly in size as it crested the edges of my soul.


    ¡°That reminds me, Toren,¡± Aurora said slyly, a glimmer in her eye, ¡°would you like to fly?¡±


    I felt a matching smile cross my face, anticipation tingling across my limbs. I closed my eyes instinctually, centering my thoughts.


    And when I opened them once more, I was back in my room in Burim¨Cbut I was floating. Instinctually, I set my feet beneath me as I restrained my joy. A quick glance inward told me that my core was indeed a brilliant, pulsing white¨Cthe highest power in the land, barring Integration. My senses felt infinitely heightened, each twist and swirl of mana around me so much more intimate than it had been before.


    I felt a rush of energy coursing through my veins, my heartfire pumping in a steady stream and flowing with impossible ease. My limbs felt stronger, my body more whole as I called on my mana, sending it coursing along my channels. The purity was far beyond anything I¡¯d ever felt before.


    ¡°The white core,¡± I muttered. This was what I¡¯d been waiting for; what I¡¯d been holding out for for so long. And the all-encompassing sensation told me that it was all worth it.


    And on my lower back, my emblem had evolved, advancing as my understanding of ambient mana grew. Now it was a Regalia, the highest plateau a spellform could reach. I would have to test that out too, but first¡­


    I reached within my dimension ring, which Seris had helpfully placed onto my finger while I¡¯d lain exhausted after our talk, and withdrew a single item. A feathered brooch born anew, appearing unravaged by the trials and tribulations it had faced.


    Aurora¡¯s relic looked as good as new¨Cthough unfortunately, the same couldn¡¯t be said for the armor Sevren had made for me. Arthur had ruined that beyond repair in our battle, but such thoughts were inconsequential.


    I called on my lifeforce, beckoning it forward. The energy flowed like molten honey through steel, so smooth and easy did it bend. I resisted the urge to gawk at how the energy obeyed me, instead imbuing the relic with a dose of heartfire.


    Immediately, the relic glowed red-hot as Aurora piloted the puppet, the little bronze bird appearing before me. It clicked and whirred in a familiar way, puffing purple mist as it stared up at me. And though I could no longer see Aurora¡¯s pupils, I could swear I saw a flash of anxious anticipation in the eyes of the relic.


    ¡°Are you ready, Aurora?¡± I whispered, every instinct in my body telling me to move. Telling me to go. Telling me to fly. ¡°Are you ready to crest the clouds?¡±


    ¡°You will understand,¡± Aurora said over our mental link, ¡°you will know freedom, Toren! You will know the breath of the sky!¡±


    The relic shot out of my room at absurd speeds, little more than a bronze blur as it entered the hallways. I laughed aloud, calling on the ambient mana around me.


    The world itself allowed my passing, the mana buoying and pushing me along in equal measure as I shot after the relic like a rocket. I blurred down the claustrophobic stone hallways of the dwarves, uncaring of the many guards and mages I made cry out in alarm¨Cthough I did use my regalia to help pick up an exasperated secretary¡¯s dropped pages as I zipped past.


    I took twists and turns at breakneck speed, maneuvering with expert precision as I honed in on my bond. It was a lot like how I¡¯d always maneuvered with my telekinetic pushes and pulls, while simultaneously far, far from it.


    I finally shot from the stone complex I¡¯d been housed in, hovering in the air for the barest moment as I observed the sprawling cityscape of Burim. I¡¯d been placed in the Divot, of course, the highest location available to dwarven nobles.


    Men, elves, and dwarves alike stopped and gawked as I emerged, and I belatedly realized I was projecting my intent into the air, coating everyone nearby. Not killing intent, no, but my sheer joy at being released from the ground was infectious. I smiled at Jotilda Shintstone as she stopped dead in her tracks, gaping up at me. I gave the dwarven elder a little wave and a wink before I was surging away again.


    The wind whipped and tore at my face as I accelerated, beelining for the large exit of the cavern. As I finally emerged on eddies of mana, I had to raise my arm in front of my face as the glare of the sun became more intense. The sounds of early-morning dockwork and harbor maintenance echoed from all around me, and my already unnaturally keen hearing raised to an even greater plateau.The heartbeats of hundreds pitter-pattered against my ears, and for the barest second, I was overwhelmed.


    I didn¡¯t know how to process so much information; so much sensation. But as I lowered my arm from my face, allowing me to see the sun peeking through the slightly cloudy sky, all of that fell away.


    The rising dawn greeted me as I hovered over the Bay of Burim, tall sea-beaten cliffs rising behind me and rays of sunlight glimmering on the calm ocean below. The sensation was so like my very own soul¨Cthe warmth, the stillness, the life¨Cthat I felt a single tear pull its way from my eye and trace down my cheek.


    Aurora¡¯s relic flapped its wings, hovering beside me in Puppet Form. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said quietly, aloud this time. ¡°The kiss of the dawn and embrace of a new day? Is there nothing more grand than the loving caress of the sun as she gazes down on her children?¡±


    I turned slightly, observing the puppet. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re called Lady Dawn?¡± I asked, feeling something in me shudder from it all.


    Aurora¡¯s relic spared me a glance. ¡°I wanted to be the sunrise, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted to light the ground where I passed; to be a beacon for something more. And what you saw of my soul¡­ How you perceived me to be that very light¡­¡±


    I sniffled, laughing lightly as I wiped tears away with my forearms. ¡°Come on, Aurora,¡± I said in a more playful tone, ¡°show me how to fly.¡±


    ¡°It would be my pleasure, Toren,¡± Aurora replied, her eyes flaring.


    On unspoken agreement, I reached my hand out and grasped the tethers of heartfire that linked Aurora¡¯s shade to her relic. And as I detached them, shifting their source to the feather in my core, the relic began to shift.


    I watched in amazement as Aurora¡¯s form changed, growing and growing twice over. Where before she¡¯d been two stories tall, now she loomed even taller with ease. The flap of her massive bronze wings created currents of wind, and a massive shadow was cast behind her as the brass plates of her wings rippled.


    It seems I¡¯m not the only one who gets an upgrade, I thought with amusement. You do, too.


    My bond let loose a victorious cry to the heavens, the sound rumbling through the ocean itself. The water rippled slightly as the sound traveled, triumph radiating from the reborn Dawn.


    And then she shot into the sky, so fast I could barely comprehend it. I was blown away by the burst of wind that trailed in Aurora¡¯s wake as she surged upward, and I had to stabilize myself quickly before I hit the water.


    I stared upward at the bronze speck that my bond had become as she arced higher and higher, approaching the clouds at rapid speed.


    You want to make this a competition, do you? I thought slyly. I had no dreams of winning a game of flight against the millennia-old phoenix, but I wouldn¡¯t give up without a fight.


    Almost instinctually, I called on my lifeforce, urging my heart to beat as I threaded it in a specific manner. Yet instead of creating a foundation for a shrouded saber, as I usually did, I allowed veins of heartfire to protrude from my back, the act seeming almost natural. Those veins of energy¨Cinvisible to me, but pulsing in my ears¨Csplit and spread in a specific manner, gradually growing and shifting around me.


    And then I engaged my new regalia, calling on my telekinetic shroud. And as the shroud spread across the twin veins of heartfire that erupted from my back, shimmering crystal shards of mana gradually grew and grew.


    And before long, I bore wings.


    Each appeared to be made of solid mana, the feathers splitting the light in strange ways as they stretched out like the fingers of an asura themselves. Each wing was easily the length of my body, and they moved as if I had always had them.


    I stared up at the sky, preparing a burst of telekinesis beneath my feet. A wild grin stretched across my face as my Shrouded Wings flapped once. Twice. And on the third flap, I released my spell.


    I surged into the sky like an arrow shot from the world¡¯s greatest bow, a crack of thunder sounding as I broke the sound barrier. I ascended like an angel returning to heaven, my wings folded behind my back as I flew toward my bond.


    I watched as her shrouded form shot straight into a cloud, the misty water vapor subsuming her whole as its mile-wide expanse shadowed everything. Were I not a phoenix, but a measly white core mage attempting to master the skies for the first time, perhaps I would¡¯ve felt vertigo. Would¡¯ve felt fear.


    But there was none. The skies were my domain, and I feared not the thunder.


    I shot through the clouds, water vapor misting and swirling around me as it tried to soak me to the bone. Yet as I continued blurring ever-upward, my telekinetic shroud and Shrouded Wings bore the weight of the mist. It all rumbled through my ears: the pounding of my own heart, the wet breath of the clouds on my skin, the rush of displaced air as I asserted my dominance.


    Images of days long past flashed through my mind. Of running through the streets with Naereni and Hofal. Of days around the cookfire with Greahd and the many souls of East Fiachra. I saw the mist of the Rat overlaying it all as it overlaid my vision now.


    And then I emerged from the clouds, surging back into the sunlight. I spun like a corkscrew, before flaring my wings out wide. The water droplets that clung to me sprayed out in a shower of rain, the sunlight piercing them as an arrow struck true in a lover¡¯s heart. Small rainbows glimmered around me for an instant as the light was split by infinitesimal prisms.


    I breathed in deeply, feeling the rush of the wind as it whipped at my loose clothes. I floated there for an endless moment, truly knowing for the first time what it meant to be free.


    ¡°You understand, Toren,¡± Aurora said, swooping around me. ¡°You see the wonders of the world. See how we are untethered from it all!¡±


    I stared at the impossibly tiny world so far below. I felt no fear, even as I stared down from miles above. The Darvish wastes stretched on farther than the eye could see, sandstorms raging all across the desert. And to the east, the Grand Mountains stretched north like the spines of a great dragon, twisting and turning as each spike pierced the clouds like spearpoints. And beyond even that, the Beast Glades beckoned with their ominous depths, unending forest and sprawling manascape hinting at the secrets within.


    ¡°So small,¡± I said, turning in the sky as I observed the earth below. As I did so, I thought of a conversation I¡¯d had with Seris so long ago. On the nature of the stars and the cosmos, and our planet¡¯s true place within it all. ¡±We¡¯re so small compared to everything.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form hovered beside me, radiating warmth and surety. ¡°And yet, for one so small, has your impact not been undeniable? A future averted and possibilities made. You have made change, Toren Daen.¡±


    I watched as the sun slowly crawled higher in the sky, casting its luminous rays down on the miles of land far below. ¡°Perhaps, Aurora, perhaps,¡± I said. ¡°But now is when true change begins.¡±


    [End of Book 4: Willfire]

 Chapter 222: To Spread the Flame [Start of Book 5]

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads! (And Infinity!)


    Toren Daen


    The musty scent of pipe smoke and fire salts stung my nose, each inhale saturated with the heart of the underground. The fire mana twisted and churned of its own accord, palpable across my skin in a way I¡¯d never experienced before.


    The drumsticks in my hands were solid and sure¨Cafter a week of practice, I¡¯d managed to achieve a level of comfort with them resting in my hands, and now they felt almost natural.


    ¡°Begin, you louts!¡± a full-bodied voice bellowed. ¡°I want to see no hair out of line! You¡¯re earning your drinks tonight, you fools, so ya better play to impress!¡±


    And as if a bomb had been set off, the music started. A concentrated mix of resonant horns, shuffling lutes, and intermittent drum beats resonated through the small cavern. In an almost tactile way, I felt the intent of the dwarves around me weave through the air. The excitement, hope, and at the deepest depths, an undercurrent of fear.


    I struck the drum in front of me in tune with the rhythm, a deep bass echoing out that made the sound mana itself tremble. I honed in on the steady beat of my own heart as a centering force. The sound of deep singing filled the air as one of the band members¨Can exceptionally thin dwarf named Talgar¨Cbegan to call from the depths of his throat.


    It was my task to assimilate with the dwarves of Dicathen, to act as a bridge between Alacrya and Darv. And as part of that task, I¡¯d approached the problem from an avenue I was most familiar with: music.


    ¡°Keep up that pace!¡± the first voice yelled over the chorus. ¡°That¡¯s the way, lads! You¡¯ll earn a wagon-full of ale with this one, I guarantee!¡± they cried with pride.


    Korsted was a balding dwarf with black hair streaked back at his sides. He had eyes that peered a little too far in opposite directions, but it was hard to notice with the laugh lines around his face and his bulbous cheeks. And he was a stickler for music.


    I¡¯d been working up a rapport with the dwarf for a while, slowly learning aspects of dwarven music and traditions. Writing it all down had become a habit¨Csomething that truly calmed me. And only recently did I finally feel I¡¯d made enough headway to ask if I could be taught the craft itself.


    I¡¯d been handed a pair of drumsticks, a drum the size of my torso, and been told to ¡°figure it out.¡± I had a feeling this was Korsted¡¯s subtle way of pushing back against the Alacryans that occupied Burim¡ªthere were notably few compared to the dwarven rebels¡ªyet he¡¯d finally relented as he¡¯d seen my earnest desire to learn of his culture.


    And right now, the motley collection of dwarves all around me¡ªwho were barely kept together and organized at all¡ªwere doing a loose imitation of ¡°practice¡± for the Aurora Constellate celebrations coming up soon. Every culture across Dicathen, be they humans, elves, or dwarves, attached ritual significance to the Aurora Borealis that stretched across the entirety of the continent for a few days at a time. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I still wasn¡¯t entirely sure how the Aurora Constellate worked. As far as I was aware, it was a similar phenomenon to the Northern Lights in my previous world, where the gravity at the poles captured charged particles from a solar storm. Except the Constellate was visible all across the continent, and while Dicathen¨Cas far as I was aware¨Cwas situated in the northern hemisphere, it wasn¡¯t far north enough to even kiss the poles.


    Probably some sort of interaction with mana, I thought absently as I continued to strike out a rhythm on the drums. But that doesn¡¯t really narrow down why.


    Soon enough, the song ended on a final echoing note. I raised my drumstick, then brought it down hard on the leather-wrapped surface. As a little extra trick, I flexed my control over the ambient mana, making the note that rumbled out resonate slightly more.


    The dwarves around me predictably cheered as the song ended, patting each other on the back and talking about how they looked forward to the coming feast. Word across Burim was that their oldest brands of Magmabound Whiskey would be uncorked for this night.


    I listened with half an ear as I observed the drumsticks in my hand contemplatively. The art of percussion certainly shared a great deal with that of the strings, and I certainly was learning more and more every day about music as I practiced this new avenue, but something about the violin just felt more¡­ right. Intrinsic. Natural.


    A meaty hand clapped me on the shoulder with enough force a normal person would¡¯ve been bowled entirely over. ¡°Solid playing, Toren,¡± Korsted complimented gruffly. His rough hands were larger than anywhere else on his body, his wrists and forearms beefy beyond belief. ¡°Always wondered why they called ya Spellsong. Guess you had a thing for music back home, eh?¡±


    I smiled slightly, twirling the drumsticks in my hands before handing them back to the dwarf who¡¯d lent them to me. ¡°Truthfully, I haven¡¯t shown any of you why I¡¯m called Spellsong. I¡¯m quite talented in my own instrument.¡±


    ¡°Oh, and what might that be?¡± Korsted asked. ¡°You¡¯ve got a musician¡¯s rhythm, boy, that¡¯s for certain. I¡¯m curious now.¡±


    My lips twisted into a slightly sad smile. I hadn¡¯t touched my violin since my hands had shaken in the aftermath of the Battle of Burim. Since I¡¯d failed to play a single even note for Seris.


    Sensing my quiet solemnity, Aurora¡¯s invisible hand brushed against my shoulder as memories of that painful moment trickled underneath my skin like wrenching knives.


    ¡°I play the violin,¡± I said. ¡°Made something of a reputation for myself back in Alacrya for it.¡±


    Korsted¡¯s brows furrowed slightly as I mentioned my home continent, his hand withdrawing nervously from my back.


    Korsted himself wasn¡¯t part of the rebellion that had taken over Burim. Like most dwarves, he didn¡¯t particularly care about who was ruling, so long as he could continue to live his way of life and just survive. But the topic of Alacrya was a sore one.


    There were actually very few Alacryans occupying Burim. Most of Seris¡¯ contingent was stationed on an island nearby called the Earthmother¡¯s Isle, alongside many of our steamships. Because of this, the reputation of Alacryans from the dwarves had become a bit more positive¨Cwe weren¡¯t entirely viewed as the conquering imperialists we truly were.


    But that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t an uncomfortable thing to stare in the face.


    Korsted opened his mouth, hesitant to meet my eyes. ¡°Well, uh,¡± he said awkwardly, ¡°that sounds fun. Was it just a hobby? Or did you play professionally?¡±


    I stood slowly, stretching. I ignored how the dwarves around me shied away a bit as I moved, treating me as if I were a live wire. It hurt something in me, the way they treated me like I was a bomb ready to go off.


    It was a strange dichotomy. Among the rebellion, we Alacryans were hailed as heroes. Liberators.


    ¡°A bit of both, to be honest,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°But it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve actually played. I should find a time to do so.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Korsted said uncertainly.


    I sighed, not feeling welcome with these people anymore. I could respect that. When we played music, we weren¡¯t Alacryan and Darvish anymore. All the divides between us fell away; the troublesome illusions and markers of identity and division blurred like Karsien¡¯s mist.


    But as everyone¡¯s sense of self and identity re-emerged, so too did the division.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get out of your hair,¡± I said with a respectful nod. ¡°Thanks for teaching me your craft, Korsted. It¡¯s been an enlightening experience.¡±


    And it had been. Dwarven music tended to use deep, sonorous rhythms that made me think of hammer blows striking iron deep beneath the ground, of somber and lilting airs that felt like the song of the earth itself. I truly believed that my understanding of the dwarves had increased through practicing their music.


    Their music evoked the sense of the tireless worker; of unending will in the face of struggle. The dwarves themselves embodied the very stones they lived beneath: stubborn, soulful, and resolute in the face of anything attempting to strike them down.


    Here was a people that would break before they bent.


    I left the arena with a heavy feeling in my chest. I had to restrain my aura as I walked¨Cfor if I was not careful, the very flames in the sconces that lined the stone pathways would flicker and dim in tune with my emotions.


    That was something I¡¯d quickly realized about being white core. The ambient mana moved and bent to my whims with fluid ease I¡¯d never experienced before, almost as if the world itself knew my thoughts before I did.


    And my sense of intent and heartfire had grown exponentially. Where before I might struggle to pick out an individual¡¯s emotions within a crowd, now I could do so with ease. I could almost taste a mage¡¯s thoughts and desires on my very tongue as the barest inflections of the mana around them whispered their secrets.


    But that went both ways. I needed to be beyond careful with my own emotions, lest I press them into the air with the weight of my white core will. I¡¯d spent a long time in the past week just learning to regulate my effects on the ambient mana¨Cenough that I hadn¡¯t had time to test out my new regalia or push my new limits.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get the chance to fly,¡± Aurora thought to me helpfully. ¡°There will be time.¡±


    I know, I thought back, my shoulders slumping as I strode through the twisting underground. Now that I was unburdened by gravity and could simply fly whenever I wished, the dwarven tunnels became constricted and cramped. The air itself seemed weighted with the tons upon tons of stone above my head.


    Being this far underground made me nervous, now. I felt a pulsing desire to just leave the caves again and soar in the air for hours on end, basking in the cool breeze of the coming spring.


    But I could not leave. Not yet.


    I strolled out of the tunnel, emerging from the side of an immense stalactite that hung from the ceiling like a massive bat, curled around itself in slumber as it tried to block out the bouncing lights.


    The atmosphere around the Hanging City of Burim was infectious as I strolled absently through the arching bridges and sturdy streets. Everywhere I looked, people were preparing in some way for the coming celebration of the Aurora Constellate. Children worked with their parents to set up streamers of shimmering scarlet, lilting green, and sky blues along the many hanging lights. When they were adjusted in just the right way, the cloth appeared like ribbons of the Aurora Constellate themselves as they snaked across the underground. Even the lavaducts seemed to participate in the delicate dance of tapestry and light.


    I noticed an over-laden dwarf stumbling with the many stacks of wood that sat in his burly arms. He looked like the kind of man who spent his entire life swinging a hammer, came home for a single drink, then went back out to swing some more. Yet despite that, there was a tired hunch to those burly shoulders that told me he couldn¡¯t continue on much longer. I halted in my tracks, hurrying my step as the man nearly tumbled.


    ¡°Would you like some help with that?¡± I offered, holding out my arms and preparing to engage my regalia.


    The dwarf peered from behind his stack of firewood. His brows furrowed slightly, and I could feel the reluctance in his intent.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Do what you want, Alacryan,¡± he muttered with a wheeze.


    Discomforted by his hostility, I still engaged my regalia. Half a dozen of the chopped logs hovered in the air in nimbuses of white around me as I relieved the dwarf from his burdens. He exhaled a breath of relief, his mustaches quivering slightly.


    ¡°Where to?¡± I asked, my hands in my pockets.


    The dwarf looked at me out of the side of his eye, clearly nervous. My appearance was well-known in Burim as one of the prominent Alacryans, and though I kept my aura and power expertly contained, rumors of my strength and abilities abounded. As was my purpose, I was also one of the most publicly active Alacryans out and about.


    ¡°Follow me, Spellsong,¡± the dwarf grunted, trundling in the direction he¡¯d been going.


    I followed after him at a leisurely pace. Eventually, we reached a small depot where a large fire was being stoked. After dropping the firewood where the dwarf directed, I was brusquely waved off without a nod of thanks.


    I didn¡¯t know how to feel about that. Part of me felt hurt and dejected by the brusque response. Another part of me recognized it was what I deserved.


    As I strolled through the network of bridges and stalactites, the responses I received from the people were notably mixed. Some opted to shift to the side of the road as I trotted along. I noticed an elf¡¯s nose twitch slightly in distaste as they glared at me, sheltering their lover from my sight. A stocky dwarven woman restrained the urge to spit in my path, her intent radiating quiet defiance.


    And still, others watched me with an air of companionship and respect. The guards patrolling the city¨Carrayed in heavy plate armor and marked with the rising symbol of the rebellion¨Cgave me salutes and nods of acknowledgment. A few even clapped me on the shoulder as I passed. One man I recognized from way back in the first cavern I¡¯d entered gave me a covert fist bump, a smile stretching beneath his helmet.


    Burim was divided. The Darvish rebels had warmed up to Alacryan assistance, namely because Seris had kept us very ¡°hands off.¡± The new leadership in Burim was allowed the illusion of control as my Scythe kept the majority of her forces off the coast in our fleet of steamships and occupied surrounding islands. The families of those defenders we had slain, however¡­


    Their hurt suffused the air like a wet, smothering blanket. The echoes of pain and loss still lingered weeks later¨Cnot just in the intent radiating through the air, but the remnants of the battle that still lingered here and there. Though the streamers and ribbons cast everything in a merry glow, there was no doubt that the smoke of battle still cast the massive cavern in shades of gray.


    Yet the utter majority simply ignored my presence. Many dwarves gave me only a passing glance, dismissing me out of hand even as I strolled.


    But as I walked, my enhanced ears caught a familiar sound. The sound of a violin¡ªmuffled by walls and stone¡ªbrushed against my ears, coasting on the currents of nostalgic tunes. Familiar music.


    Familiar because I¡¯d composed the music myself.


    Curious and drawn to the tempting sound, I altered my course: after all, I was going to no place in particular originally. I found my path sloping ever-so-slightly downward, gradually edging toward the depths of the caverns of Burim.


    I¡¯d never entered the Undercrofts¡ªwhat the dwarves called the makeshift shacks and hovels deep in the stalagmites below. But as I slowly strode lower and lower on massive stalactites towards that haunting sound, I caught glimpses of firelight and smoke in the depths. With my enhanced eyes and ears, I could just barely make out the sounds of life.


    I¡¯d have to drop by there before the day was out to talk to a certain someone, but not just yet.


    And I finally arrived at the source of the music.


    I¡¯d stumbled across an almost hidden alcove nestled in the walls of one of the deepest hanging spikes of rock. Vines crisscrossed the stones, twisting like a figure skater on ice as they created masses of green in a chasm otherwise utterly dark.


    Peering inside the nestled alcove, I spotted a very familiar person lounging on a stone bench. Lusul Hercross played his violin slowly and sonorously, his ebony skin reflectionless in the low light. He played like a master as his arm dipped and weaved with his bow, sweet sound brushing against my ears.


    And not far from him, on the very same bench, was a young woman. She had short, curly brown hair the color of chestnuts, and her aquamarine eyes danced with each swell of Lusul¡¯s music. Her hands were clasped demurely in her lap, and she seemed to gravitate toward the young Named Blood man.


    Unbidden, I felt a smile stretch across my face as I watched Lusul weave a tapestry of emotion with his lover. I stepped back from the alcove, leaning against the edge and crossing my arms.


    The Unseen World crossed my vision as I waited, savoring the music. I¡¯d played this very song to the waiting crowd at Central Academy months ago. I found myself humming along to the tune in quiet melancholy.


    ¡°Love finds a way,¡± Aurora thought to me fondly, standing beside me as she stared up at the many crisscrossing lavaducts and bridges above us. ¡°The question is what you¡¯re going to do about it, Toren.¡±


    Relations between Alacryans and Dicathians were prohibited by Agrona himself. The people of the Sovereigns were expressly forbidden from ¡°tainting¡± their Vritra blood with the touch of ¡°lessers.¡± The official punishments varied based on how far a relationship might have progressed, but the bare minimum was a dishonorable discharge from the military.


    Lusul was playing a dangerous game.


    We¡¯ll see what I need to do, I responded, listening to the song end. It depends on how the man responds, I suppose.


    After a few minutes, I watched from the shadows as the chestnut-haired girl skittered from the room on quick steps. She sent a longing look back to the hidden alcove, her hands¨Ceach covered in calluses and bearing the marks of long work¨Cfidgeting slightly.


    She didn¡¯t see me, of course. I was hovering just a ways above.


    Finally, she strode away from her forbidden rendezvous, her chin held high and her hands still fidgeting.


    I settled back down onto the hanging stalactite, watching the girl as she did her best to look inconspicuous as she walked. Part of me wondered how safe it was to wander these streets alone without escort. Considering this girl wasn¡¯t a mage, it must have been even more dangerous.


    Wanting to make certain, I grabbed Aurora¡¯s relic. Mind making sure she gets wherever she¡¯s going safely, Aurora? I thought, preparing to imbue the feather with a bit of lifeforce.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be an eye in the sky, my bond,¡± Lady Dawn affirmed. ¡°She will meet no harm under my watch.¡±


    Feeling reassured by the phoenix shade¡¯s words, I imbued a barest sliver of heartfire into the bronze brooch, before tossing it into the air. Aurora took control in Puppet Form, before soaring covertly after the retreating young woman.


    I exhaled through my nose, returning to quietly lounging against the side of the alcove. From what I could hear, Lusul was almost done.


    It took a few minutes more, but the dark-skinned second son of Named Blood Hercross finally stepped from his hideaway, his violin case clutched in his hands. Unlike his anxious lover, Lusul didn¡¯t do a full nervous swivel as he left¨Cjust strode confidently along the path as he passed me by without a note of realization.


    ¡°Interesting song you played,¡± I said leisurely, my arms crossed in front of my chest, ¡°how long did it take you to perfect?¡±


    Lusul froze in place as if he¡¯d been struck head-on by Lance Zero¡¯s ice. His intent dipped from quiet contentment into a deeper fear as he slowly turned, his almost-pink eyes the size of pinpricks as they locked with mine.


    ¡°Spellsong, I was just¨C¡± he started, his eyes darting in the direction his lover had just gone.


    I raised a hand, halting his words. ¡°I know what you were doing, Lieutenant,¡± I said evenly. I spared a glance toward where the Hercross boy¡¯s lover had left. ¡°What is her name?¡±


    There was a tense silence between us that could have been cut with a knife. Lusul¡¯s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, and from how his heart beat, I knew he was in the throes of fight or flight.


    ¡°Lia,¡± he finally said, the words creaking from his lips. ¡°Her name is Lia. She is a maid in the Divot.¡±


    I tilted my head, focusing fully on the young man in front of me. Because from the depths of his intent and the skipping beats of his heart, I knew he had just lied to me on both claims.


    I pressed off from the wall, striding past Lusul. ¡°Follow me, Lusul,¡± I said in a tone of quiet command.


    Lusul gulped nervously, but he knew he couldn¡¯t run. He followed behind me like a prisoner on death row.


    ¡ª


    This time as I walked, I did have a destination in mind. Higher and higher we crested as I strolled leisurely, the Lieutenant behind me strung as tight as a godbow. From the way he walked, I suspected he believed he was being marched towards his execution.


    Yet still, he followed behind me obediently.


    It took us around ten minutes to finally reach the destination I searched for. The platform we reached still bore signs of devastation and damage from when I¡¯d last been here, fighting for my life and for Seris¡¯ cause.


    I took a deep, shuddering breath as I stood stock-still on the broken stone. Memories resurfaced, skittering over the edges of my perception like the legs of a centipede in the dark. I saw flashes of blood. Death. The mourning intent of people as they slowly died ignoble deaths around me.


    Here was where I¡¯d executed Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn. Where I had truly lost my innocence.


    Lusul stood nervously behind me, his intent radiating quiet fear. That dread had slowly grown as we¡¯d weaved toward this abandoned location, leaving just the two of us alone. His heartbeat was exceptionally audible to my ears.


    ¡°You lied to me earlier,¡± I said, staring at a spot on the stones. ¡°When you told me the name of your lover. And where she worked.¡±


    I thought Lusul couldn¡¯t feel any more fear. It appeared I was wrong.


    ¡°I would never lie, Spellsong,¡± he said after a long moment, his voice trembling. ¡°I am duty-bound to¨C¡±


    ¡°She works to process fire salts in the fifth division of Burim¡¯s navy yards.¡±


    Through Aurora¡¯s relic, I could see where Lusul¡¯s lover scurried off to¨Cand besides, her hands were far too rough, calloused, and scarred to be a maid. The lie was easy to pick apart.


    Lusul took a step back, sputtering slightly. ¡°No, you¡¯re wrong. That¡¯s not where she¡¯s from,¡± he said, a new kind of terror thrumming through the mana around me. Not terror for himself¨Cbut fear for another.


    I turned around slowly, and from Lusul¡¯s stance and wild eyes, it appeared he was just about ready to throw himself at me. He looked on the verge of snapping, sweat beading across his skin and dripping to the floor beneath him.


    He¡¯s willing to fight a futile battle against me, I thought, feeling a smile creep along my face, for his lover. For a Dicathian woman.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t bring you here to punish you, Lusul,¡± I said, observing the young man¡¯s state. ¡°Just to give you some advice, and to teach you something valuable.¡±


    The dark-skinned Hercross blinked uncertainly at my words. It must have sounded absurd to him¨Cafter all, I served directly under a Scythe. I should be the true arbiter of rules.


    ¡°You should invest in a sound-dampening artifact,¡± I said casually, ¡°preferably something pretty strong. My ears are better than most, which was why I was able to track you down. But music has a way of drawing people in. Don¡¯t count on your out-of-the-way rendezvous locations to keep your tryst secret.¡±


    If before Lusul looked like an animal backed against the wall and ready to lash out at a nearing predator, now he just seemed inordinately confused.


    ¡°What?¡± he asked slowly. ¡°What do you mean, you won¡¯t punish me?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Why do you care for her, Lusul?¡± I asked next, ignoring his question. ¡°And don¡¯t give me some half-baked answer. You were willing to lie to your direct superior for her. I want to understand why. What makes her so valuable to you?¡±


    Lusul licked his lips, glancing covertly back the way we¡¯d come. I waited for whatever thoughts that ran through his head to run their course. He¡¯d calmed down slightly as I¡¯d questioned him, but he was still wondering if this was some sort of trap.


    ¡°She shakes,¡± he finally said. ¡°She was hurt when she was a girl in a fire salt explosion. And she has tremors because of that. But¡­ But when she hears my music¡­¡± Lusul stared at me with eyes I recognized: those of a boy in love. ¡°She can rest. She doesn¡¯t tremble when I play my violin. It started just as that, Toren, I promise. She told me that my music helped her, so I just offered to play it for her.¡±


    My smile was soft as I watched the man stumble over his words. I wondered if I ever looked like this when I spoke of Seris. And when he¡¯d finished his words, I finally reached a decision.


    I moved toward a chunk of rubble, then slowly set myself down on the dusty ground. I crossed my legs, staring at the still-nervous Lusul. I pointed at a spot not far from me. ¡°Sit there, Lusul.¡±


    He swallowed, then sat himself down like a jittery mouse still faced with a cat.


    I had an inkling of what I would do with Lusul when I¡¯d first spotted him with his lover. And that idea had only cemented itself when he faced me head-on and lied for the sake of his beau. And as the young man told me why he loved the young Dicathian woman, I¡¯d made my choice.


    I¡¯d asked Lusul once how he could continue to play his music when his hands were weak and his mind tired. He¡¯d told me of the power of the orchestra, how those beside him could carry the notes when he was too weak to do so.


    I remembered sitting in this exact place barely a few weeks ago, my hands trembling as I failed to play even a single clean note on my violin. I wouldn¡¯t always be able to profess my views, to push my perspective to others. I needed to let someone else carry that same torch.


    I rested my palms face-up on my knees as I stared at the nervous man in front of me as he reluctantly mirrored my position. ¡°You¡¯re a man of music, Lusul, just as I am. And considering your recent actions, you¡¯ve proven your strength of character.¡±


    The pink-eyed man blinked in utter surprise as I uttered the words, but I wasn¡¯t done. ¡°Many, many people have asked me for the secrets to my intent-based music. I¡¯ve given hints and directions to all who asked, because music should be for everyone. It is the purest expression of the soul. But never have I tried to teach anyone the specifics of my craft.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°That changes now, Lusul. I¡¯m going to show you how to weave true emotion into every note you play.¡±

 Chapter 223: The Undercrofts

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    The Undercrofts were dark. Burim itself always had a shadowed underglow, even in the highest reaches where the lavaducts flowed and provided the barest light. But beyond physical darkness, the stalactite-riddled base of the massive cavern was shadowed in other ways.


    I trudged through a winding pathway, noting the many haphazard wooden shacks that clung to the thick spires of rock. Like newborn babes clutching onto their mother¡¯s breast, each rickety construct of wood seemed afraid that their base of support would suddenly vanish.


    And every building I spotted down here appeared just as fragile as a newborn as well. Rickety stilts that had been eaten through by the relentless wash of time supported many of the dwellings¨Cand the dwellings themselves were packed together and layered atop one another like ridged sardines. Some of the hovels had flickering lights inside, and I could hear the lifeforce of many throughout this decrepit underground.


    My boots splashed as I stepped into a large puddle, my thoughts oddly calm. This was where the lowest of the low in Burim dwelled. The scum of the earth. The thieves, scoundrels, poor, and those who had no other choice.


    I spared a leisurely glance to the side as I heard several heartbeats approaching, each devoid of intent. Before they could even inch closer, I raised a single finger, staring into the darkness where they crouched with anticipation.


    A fireball immediately popped into existence over the tip of the digit. With casual ease, I waved the fire in front of me, causing the puddle to evaporate and clearing my forward path. The whole while, I stared into the darkness where the barest flash revealed reflective eyes.


    Recognizing the true danger I represented, the thieves¨Ceach armed with glinting knives and appearing half-starved¨Cbacked off like a pack of hyenas recognizing an elephant. They had no mages amongst their number, and one thing Wade had told me so long ago was that the smartest thieves knew when to cut their losses.


    I huffed as I continued back on my way. That wasn¡¯t the first time I¡¯d resorted to intimidating a group of starving dwarves who thought they¡¯d spotted an easy target. I stood out like a sore thumb with my expensive clothing and clean appearance, but I was no simple person to rob.


    The Undercrofts shared many similarities with East Fiachra. The destitution. The parasitic despair. The abandonment by all others, and how those in power turned a blind eye to the suffering beneath them.


    But for all of East Fiachra¡¯s ills, they¡¯d always had a measure of hope. Greahd and the Rats had begun their good work long before I finally became a true part of the community. The cookfires and strikes against the upper echelons of the city had instilled a quiet aura of rebellion and purpose in the many slum rats of Fiachra.


    That wasn¡¯t the case here. This place had no hope. It was where dreams went to die.


    My eyes caught on a thin dwarf in ragged clothes as she slept against a stalactite, huddling under an outcropping of rotting wood as she clasped her arms around herself with a shiver. As I stared at her, images of blithe addicts and exhausted unadorned trickled through my mind.


    As I passed, I called on my core. The ambient mana flexed as a wave of fire mana washed over the dwarven woman, banishing her chill. She startled, looking up at me through greasy hair with haunted eyes.


    I didn¡¯t slow down. That spell would last a good few hours at least, but I knew better than to give the ailing woman coin or clothing. That would only invite the stronger gangs to tear it away from her¨Csomething I¡¯d learned in the deep bowels of East Fiachra.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to find my target. Their heartfire rumbled a hundred times louder than any others here.


    I stood in front of what most would just assume to be a common beggar. In the darkest dark of the Undercrofts, it was difficult to see a foot in front of you without mana enhancing your vision¨Cbut my eyes glowed as they stared down at the lounging dwarf.


    ¡°Elder Shintstone wondered where you were,¡± I said. ¡°Considering the last-minute Constellate preparations are underway, she¡¯s rather adamantly demanding you be there.¡±


    The Constellate wasn¡¯t yet visible, but it was set to appear around midnight tonight. Elder Shintstone had been scrambling to get the celebrations ready, and Seris had been occupied in coordinating our own troops to interact and celebrate, too.


    But that meant that the important figures of the dwarves were needed for the event.


    Olfred Warend looked up at me through a hooded cowl. His eyes bore dark circles, and his long hair was unbound from his normal ponytail. If I hadn¡¯t followed his heartfire explicitly to this point, I would¡¯ve never believed this man was once a Lance of Dicathen considering his ragged appearance.


    ¡°You can tell that prickly old woman that I won¡¯t be joining her,¡± he grunted out, turning away from me and staring blankly down the weaving streets. ¡°It¡¯s not my job, Toren.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, feeling the melancholy through Olfred¡¯s intent. Back when I was silver core, such emotions were detectable, but they didn¡¯t have so much of an effect on me. Now, with the senses of a white core mage and my touch on the ambient mana, each sliver of intent carried so much more weight.


    I sat down next to Olfred, staring off into the distance myself. We sat in dark silence for a while before I finally broke it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t heal Rahdeas,¡± I said honestly. ¡°The mind is still something I don¡¯t have much experience in. And¡­ I¡¯ve seen what happens when things go wrong.¡±


    Olfred had asked me soon after his return for assistance in trying to wash away the mental damage Rahdeas had suffered under the Triunion Council¡¯s torture. And I¡¯d tried to¨Cbut I¡¯d faced a true problem.


    What was considered damage to the mind? I couldn¡¯t just wash away someone¡¯s mental trauma, but I could restore a djinn¡¯s psyche that had been weathered from extreme age. Where was the line between those?


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    When I¡¯d tried to use my heartfire healing on Rahdeas, I knew immediately that just whisking away all the trauma he¡¯d experienced was impossible. And I worried that Olfred still held me at fault for my failure.


    The former Lance didn¡¯t respond to my apology at first. ¡°He took me from these streets,¡± he eventually said, his voice gruff. ¡°Decades ago, in the wake of one of the worst lavatides. All these shacks and makeshift buildings were swept away under tides of magma. And when Rahdeas saw me¨Clost, alone, and having just lost everything¨Che took me in.¡±


    I remained silent as I listened to the dwarf lament his old memories, understanding that he needed to talk.


    ¡°I thought he was a con at first. Just like all the gangs and bullies I¡¯d always known in my decade of darkness in this place. And I¡¯d treated him as such for years¨Cbut I eventually realized that his intentions were true. I let myself call him Father.¡±


    Olfred slammed a fist into the ground in anger, the ambient mana warping as the ground trembled. ¡°And now¡­ now there¡¯s barely anything left in his mind!¡± he seethed, the ground beneath him heating as his aura expanded. ¡°And all that he went through¨Call that I went through to bring him back¨CI wonder what the Earthforsaken point of it all was. Why must he suffer for only doing what he thinks is right? And¨C¡± Olfred swallowed, his arm shaking for an instant. ¡°And was I even¡­ right, to act in his name?¡±


    I absorbed Olfred¡¯s tirade quietly, finding a note of solemn understanding. Questions such as these plagued me constantly. I asked myself what the point of Greahd¡¯s actions were when she was so simply broken by Agrona. I wanted to find a point for it all. To see what should¡¯ve been done better.


    ¡°Mica was there at that meeting,¡± Olfred whispered. ¡°She was there, Spellsong. Blaming me for the death of her family. And I didn¡¯t know how to face her.¡±


    I allowed my eyes to close as Olfred¡¯s confusion and hurt washed over me; so much stronger now that I could divine even deeper depths.


    ¡°I killed Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn,¡± I eventually said, my hands clenching as I flashed back to that moment. Unbidden, I felt sweat condense on my arms as I struggled to face Hornfels Earthborn¡¯s broken stare even in my memories. ¡°And every day, I ask myself if I could have done something different. If I should have done something different. Because Mica¡¯s family¨Cthose cousins of hers¨Cthey were innocent. They were blameless in Alacrya¡¯s imperialist march.¡±


    Olfred slowly turned to face me, his dark eyes churning.


    ¡°And I¡¯ve lost people, too,¡± I said surely. ¡°And I question if their deaths had an impact. If their deaths meant something. And every question drives knives through my heart, because I do not know.¡±


    Did Skarn and Hornfels need to die? Could I have spared them? And were their lives worth sacrificing for my greater goals? And was the pain of Greahd¡¯s death, the trauma I still grappled with¡­ Was it worth the resolve and drive I had cultivated in the wake of that sorrow?


    I took a shuddering breath, calming myself as I counted to ten inside my mind. Aurora, sensing my emotions, sent a stream of comforting warmth over our bond. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you if your actions were justified, Olfred. I can¡¯t say for certain if every sacrifice you¡¯ve made has given a net benefit. But what I can say is you must never stop asking those questions. Even if you find answers to some.¡±


    I slowly stood, staring up at the lights of the city far above. In a strange way, they almost looked like stars. ¡°The only thing you can truly control is yourself, Olfred. Never stop asking yourself why you act; why you take the steps you do. Sometimes you won¡¯t have answers¨Cbut you must hold out for the day you do.¡±


    I slowly rose into the air, leaving the morose dwarf behind. I knew he didn¡¯t wish to follow, and though I wanted to stay a while longer to comfort the man, I didn¡¯t have the time.


    As I rose into the air, I stared down at the hopeless hovels of the Undercroft. When I¡¯d first come to this world, I might have seen such utter despair and been overcome by it in turn. How could one see any light in such darkness?


    But I¡¯d changed. Even if Olfred couldn¡¯t see it, even if the exhausted dwarves of the Undercroft couldn¡¯t see it, I could. There was hope for these people. Hope that they could rise above their hell.


    ¡ª


    Immediately tension released from my shoulders as I exited the massive cavern of Burim. The early Spring breeze wafted in off the Bay of Burim, carrying the scent of salt and lingering dreams. The sky above was lit by a brilliant full moon, not a cloud to be seen. The Aurora Constellate wasn¡¯t yet visible, but I knew it would be soon.


    I stared contemplatively up at the sky for a moment, allowing myself to relax slightly as the breeze kissed my hair. I was wearing loose, dark pants that allowed for freedom of movement, and my dark leather boots came right up to my knee. I wore a close-fitting gray shirt that accentuated my physique¨Cand of course, a maroon vest overtop it all.


    I adjusted my vest slightly, noting how the light of the moon glanced off the orange imprint of Named Blood Daen. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± I asked aloud, staring up at the moon, ¡°was the Constellate named after you? Or the other way around?¡±


    My bond¡¯s puppeteered relic flitted down onto my shoulder, whirring slightly. ¡°I am very old, Toren,¡± she said, sounding amused, ¡°but not quite as old as the Constellate. The name Aurora is a generational one¨Cpassed through the Asclepius clan for millennia. I am not the first, nor will I be the last to bear the name.¡±


    I hummed in consideration, feeling like my bond had more to say. ¡°Do you see those stars, high above?¡± she finally asked, tilting the avian head of her relic. ¡°There¨Cbetween the Lightning Spell and the one you call the Struggling Ascender?¡±


    My eyes widened slightly as I noticed the difference in truth. ¡°Why are they only visible right now?¡± I asked curiously. There was a glimmering patch of starlight that seemed to shine a different color than all the rest around it. A little orange and a little blue.


    Aurora chortled. ¡°That is the Chulsen Cluster. It is only visible during the Aurora Constellate, the lights somehow peering through only when those ribbons of scarlet, green, and blue finally reach us. Andravhor was fascinated by the phenomenon--it didn¡¯t make any sense to him at all. He asked the exact same question as you, Toren.¡±


    I blinked in surprise. ¡°Did he ever find his answer?¡± I prodded, wanting to know more. ¡°I mean, there¡¯s got to be a reason, right?¡±


    The relic sighed, and I felt I¡¯d approached something surprisingly tender. The Unseen World washed over my vision, revealing Aurora¡¯s shade. She hovered in the sky a few feet from me, staring up at the stars longingly.


    ¡°Even ¡®till the day he died, Andravhor never learned the secrets of those stars. They evaded him at every turn, the shrouding effects of the Aurora Constellate obscuring his attempts.¡±


    Aurora gave me a light smile as she wrapped an arm around me in a motherly way, raising a single arm to point at the Chulsen Cluster. ¡°But he only found that more wonderful. Millennia of dedication made the djinn the greatest civilization this world has ever seen¨Cyet they still had gaps in their knowledge. And so when our son was born, we named him Chul: because for all the djinn¡¯s knowledge, here was something they didn¡¯t yet understand.¡±


    We stayed like that for a while as Aurora¡¯s emotions¨Cso real and brilliant¨Cflowed over our bond. When I¡¯d first met the phoenix, I never would¡¯ve been able to fathom the sheer emotion that cascaded from her at every moment. I wondered what memory she was reliving.


    Despite the depths of our soul bond and how much we had experienced together, Aurora still did not directly share her memories with me. I respected that¨Cafter all, memories were precious to her. Agrona had made it his goal to tear as many of those from my bond as he could, and that made her mind an unspoken boundary.


    I allowed myself a few moments more basking in that quiet warmth and appreciating the stars before I finally shifted, staring down at the lights below.


    The docks were absurdly crowded tonight: after all, one couldn¡¯t watch the Constellate from inside a cavern.


    Jotilda Shintstone waited far below, and it was just about time for festivities to begin.

 Chapter 224: The Dragon and the Earth

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I touched down beside Jotilda Shintstone, graceful as a falling feather. Many of the dwarves around me shied away slightly as I rolled my shoulders, giving me wary glances and uncertain looks.


    That was something I¡¯d quickly discovered once I¡¯d ascended to the white core. The mages of Dicathen viewed magical flight with an air of reverence and awe: after all, it was the marker that someone had reached the pinnacle of power in their world. To see an Alacryan so casually flitting about was a quiet reminder of my true strength.


    ¡°Olfred won¡¯t be joining us tonight,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°He¡¯s holed up in the Undercroft, like you guessed. And even if he did, I¡¯m not sure he¡¯d be the inspirational image you need.¡±


    Jotilda, at least, took my entrance without much staring and gawking. The elder had too much personal experience with me to be shocked by this.


    ¡°That man¡¯s a coward,¡± she snorted, clearly uncaring of listening ears around. ¡°Just because Rahdeas is a dimwit now, he refuses to do anything. Some Lance he is, refusing to act for his people.¡±


    From the subtle murmuring of the dwarven nobility around us, I knew they¡¯d caught Elder Shintstone¡¯s words. She didn¡¯t seem to care, the hard lines of her face deepening as she leveled a gaze across the milling partygoers.


    The setup on Burim¡¯s docks was much the same as within the cavern. Drooping ribbons charted pathways from a dozen lampposts, creating beautiful interweaves of color. Small fires danced in raised torchlight, and more than a dozen stalls were arrayed all along the streets with colorful confections and what I assumed were party games. Familiar music drifted into the air¨Cthe sound of drums and hope. There weren¡¯t nearly as many mages about as I¡¯d grown accustomed to in Alacrya, but still, the ambient mana was rippling with anticipation and enjoyment.


    It wasn¡¯t just dwarves here¨Cthough they were the majority. A few humans and elves could be spotted standing head and shoulders taller than the rest of the celebrators, their faces showing none of the wear and tear I¡¯d grown accustomed to whenever I interacted with these hardy folk.


    I let out a sigh as I stood beside Elder Shintstone, my eyes tracking Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form far in the sky as she wheeled about, enjoying the freedom of the skies. And it hit me all at once why this felt so strange. Why it felt so incongruous to stand here amidst these celebrations.


    I found myself focusing on a dwarven child¡ªnot much older than eight or nine¡ªas they sat, enraptured by a mage¡¯s grand performance. Small sculptures of clay and stone shifted and weaved in animated gestures as the dwarf¡¯s grand voice bellowed out, telling the child some grand tale of heroism. The child giggled with glee as one of the clay figures stuck up a tiny little sword.


    It doesn¡¯t feel like these people are at war, I realized. It¡¯s almost like the East Fiachran cookfires back in Alacrya, where the people were able to put down their burdens for the shortest time.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to take a look at the festivities,¡± I said, beginning to stroll away from Elder Shinstone as a nostalgic sense of fondness settled in my stomach. ¡°If you need me, I shouldn¡¯t be too hard to spot.¡±


    As I strolled through the festivities, I allowed myself to relax slightly. Where I¡¯d normally get very mixed reactions from everyone I passed, the infectious energy suffusing the air seemed to banish much of the outright hostility I normally received.


    And something drew my eye. That very same puppetmaster¡ªwho had made small clay golems holding shields and swinging swords to entertain the children¡ªmet my eye as he completed his show. I blinked in surprise as he smiled widely, revealing a few gaps in his teeth.


    ¡°Aye, Spellsong!¡± he called unabashedly, raising a meaty hand. ¡°Come here, lad! I¡¯ve got an offer for ya!¡±


    If I were a normal mage, the puppetmaster¡¯s call wouldn¡¯t have been audible over the din of people and the flow of foot traffic. And yet this man seemed to expect that; his eyes squinted slightly as he recognized that I¡¯d been able to hear and understand him clearly.


    Intrigued by this dwarf¡¯s blatant call¡ªand apparent utter lack of fear¡ªI changed my course. As I approached, I got a better look at him, and I realized he might not be a dwarf at all. He had ever-so-slightly pointed ears, but his build reminded me more of a human than the stocky frame of most of the earthen folk.


    ¡°Just the man I wanted to see!¡± the gap-toothed puppeteer said proudly, puffing out his chest in front of his little stage as I approached. ¡°I¡¯ve been lookin¡¯ for some help allll night tonight, and you seem like just the man for the job!¡±


    I smirked, amused by the dwarf¡¯s attitude. It was notably different than¡­ well, basically everything. ¡°A few things, friend,¡± I said leisurely, ¡°one, I don¡¯t know what help you¡¯re looking for, so I¡¯m not sure I can even assist. And two, do you know who I am?¡± I finished, my brow raised slightly.


    ¡°See, I knew I had the right man! Askin¡¯ about the job insteada¡¯ immediately tellin¡¯ me to shove off. That¡¯s what I like to see!¡± the dwarf laughed, his mood infectious and positively radiating over his intent. How could a person be so happy? ¡°And of course, I know who ya¡¯ are. Spellsong! Toren Daen! Can¡¯t step out ma own front door without hearin¡¯ about ya! Always flittin¡¯ about like a hummingbird and trying to help people.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Well, it appears my reputation precedes me, but I don¡¯t know who you are.¡±


    The dwarf tapped a hand against his chest, bowing with surprising grace. ¡°Bartholomew Morg, half-dwarf and puppet master by trade. And ma job is to spread stories.¡±


    ¡°Stories?¡± I asked, noting his emphasis on the word. ¡°What kind of stories, Bartholomew?¡±


    ¡°Any kind at all!¡± Bartholomew replied. ¡°That¡¯s tells us we¡¯re alive: stories! Been in the craft since I was a wee child, and my pa before that, and his before that. Can¡¯t ever seem to escape puppeteering in my family, human blood or not. And call me Barth: all ma friends do!¡±


    I observed the man¡¯s stage more closely as I approached, noting strange fluctuations of mana. I¡¯d assumed it was made of pure clay at first, but now that I looked closer, I recognized that it was actually extremely fine grains of sand¨Cand from the composition, likely extremely mana conductive.


    Probably what allowed this man to make so many detailed puppets at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°Well, Barth,¡± I said, looking at the little stage, ¡°what exactly do you need me for?¡±


    Barth smiled again, his intent radiating anticipation. ¡°Well, I¡¯m usually not one to pry, but I¡¯ve noticed that you¡¯ve gone around askin¡¯ for folk tales and stories from people. That¡¯s the kinda thing that really catches my interest, so I¡¯ve been waitin¡¯ here for you with an offer: you help me make my performances a little more flashy for the crowd, and I¡¯ll tell a story I know you¡¯ve never heard before.¡±


    I raised a hand to my chin, actively considering the proposal. I had been asking about dwarven folktales and legends, but I hadn¡¯t gotten too far yet. I was surprised to find that there weren¡¯t a lot of fairy tales or storytelling in Darvish culture. Those I asked seemed to think it a waste of time. An attempt to cover up the truth and scrub away the cold, hard reality of the world.


    But Barth was right: stories were what made us feel alive. And this random half-dwarf had unwittingly dangled perhaps the best bait I¡¯d ever seen right before my eyes.


    My smile grew to match the gap-toothed storyteller¡¯s. ¡°How flashy do you want it?¡±


    ¡ª


    Not long after, I was lounging behind the miniature stage with my hands behind my head, watching as Barth prepared his final bits. I watched with appreciation as he messed with a few covert reagents, before shifting them inside his long sleeves with a sleight of hand that would¡¯ve boggled my mind were I not a mage adept enough to see his micromovements.


    Barth had explained that a lot of his ¡°special effects¡± used pinches of bursting fire salt and colorful smoke to create illusions¨Cbut with me around, he didn¡¯t need those at all. After all, I was a very skilled fire mage.


    The people still milled about as the music continued, festival-goers enjoying their night. The atmosphere had somehow grown more lively as the minutes ticked by, each person waiting in anticipation for the Aurora Constellate that was soon to arrive.


    ¡°Alright, Spellsong,¡± Barth said, dusting off his hands with a signature grin, ¡°it¡¯s up to you how you wanna make this show really pop. You¡¯ve got all your neat magics and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got some tricks up your sleeve.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re trusting me to improvise this,¡± I said mildly. ¡°You could¡¯ve given me a script to follow.¡±


    Barth scoffed, wagging a finger at me. ¡°A script is a limit, Toren! Without a limit, a story can be anything! Now, how about you give my voice a little oomph?¡±


    I smirked, enjoying the dwarf¡¯s happy airs. ¡°You ask, and so you shall receive,¡± I said loftily.


    Barth turned back to his stage, scanning the crowd. He winked at me once out of the side of his eye, before inhaling deeply.


    ¡°Ho, people of the festival!¡± he called out, his voice automatically amplified by my sound magic. It wasn¡¯t horribly loud, just made to travel further than normal to catch the attention of all. ¡°Man and woman; elf and dwarf! All are welcome if you would but gather round!¡±


    The call certainly attracted attention¨Cand from how Barth flourished his hands in a grandiose gesture, I knew the half-dwarf knew how to hold a crowd. ¡°Tonight is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! I¡¯ve got a story to tell¨Cone none of you have ever heard. And if that isn¡¯t enough to pique your passion, to engross your attention, to reel in your regard?¡±


    The storyteller waved his hand, and I called on my magic in turn. A dozen glittering orbs of fire¨Ceach slightly different hues that shimmered in the darkness¨Cdanced around him like curious fairies. Barth took the appearance in stride, before gesturing grandly to me.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll have the pleasure to witness the performance of none other than Spellsong, mage extraordinaire!¡±


    While the attention before had mostly been mild interest, at the mention of my name, I could feel the intent of half a dozen people sharpen as more people separated themselves from the crowd to focus on the play in particular.


    I understood why. After all, the fact that Barth had an Alacryan¨Cpresumably one who was high-ranking and powerful¨Cperforming with him made his little show even more enticing. It made it different.


    Barth¡¯s eyes glimmered as he watched an interested audience slowly condense from the crowds.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you all,¡± I said leisurely with a smile, nodding to one of the most prominent groups who¡¯d been drawn by the most recent proclamation. I felt a burst of inner amusement as a trio of women stared back at me with very clear interest in their eyes. I snapped my fingers, the sound reverberating outward. As it did so, each of the fires hovering around Barth snuffed out, like the ticking of a clock inching its way to midnight. ¡°I¡¯m here to make Barth¡¯s play even more exciting: in fact, that¡¯s exactly how he roped me into this in the first place. So if all of you enjoy what¡¯s coming up, then that means our friend succeeded in his mission.¡±


    It was pretty clear that Barth was using the anomaly that was me to garner more interest and attention in his play: and I didn¡¯t mind that, so long as he delivered on his promise of a unique story.


    Barth clapped his hands just as the final spotlight of fire went out. ¡°Spellsong is right! I did bribe him with promises of a good story, one never heard before. In fact, this is an old, old tale, passed down in my family since long, long ago. It is the tradition in House Morg to tell this story, word for word, to each successive storyteller, so that they might never forget it. Generation upon generation has been tasked with keeping this knowledge.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Barth inhaled, then set his hands down on the stage. His smile fell into something serious and solemn, and I unwittingly found myself pulled along with the crowd as he stared at them all. ¡°We all know of the asura. The gods of this world who watch over us from afar, judging and guiding our progress. Even in this war, we have seen their touch.¡±


    The crowd shifted nervously, and I felt my brows furrow.


    ¡°But there was a time when the asura were not the only deities to walk the land. Yet these others were different from those we know today: far, far different.¡±


    Barth conjured two figures from the sand on his stage, drawing them up so they were each about the size of my forearm. One was simply a shifting amalgam of stone and clay, formless except in its rigidity. Beside the construct of earth, a vine of sifting sand snaked around in a repeating pattern. I was mutely impressed by the precision of his craft.


    ¡°Mother Earth tended the ground, churning and remaking mountains when they became too stale. She was an artist who crafted her work with utmost precision, molding the peaks of the Grand Mountains themselves and creating wondrous tapestries of stone.¡±


    The rigid formlessness of the first figure grew, becoming more and more human. A figure formed of clay¨Can outline of a portly woman composed entirely of soft earth and neat soil. Somehow, I felt I could feel the aura of quiet contemplation radiating from the summoned construct.


    ¡°Sister Nature saw what her mother created and knew it was beautiful¨Cbut to her, it was bland and stark. So much gray and brown¨Cwhere was the color in her art? Her mother made wondrous crafts, but they lacked fine details. But a dutiful daughter could always improve upon her mother¡¯s craft. And so she followed after her mother like a dutiful duckling, spreading green leaves and silver blossoms,¡± Barth continued, sweeping his hand.


    This time, the twisting vine solidified into another figure of more human persuasion. With my enhanced perception, I was able to spot Barth¡¯s barest twitch of his hand, two miniature vials of green and silver entering his conjured sand golem. Slowly, emerald streaks and spots of silver appeared along the lithe body of the puppet as the vials of dye burst within.


    While the homely figure of Mother Earth stood short and squat, Sister Nature was lithe and almost beautiful. Her form was trim and full, and she trailed behind the loping figure of Mother Earth with quiet resolve.


    ¡°These two¡ªmother and daughter, earth and vine¡ªthey were artists, you see. At heart, they loved to create. They roamed the land, sculpting and painting in turn to their heart¡¯s content.¡±


    The scene shifted, showing Mother Earth as she reached her fingers into the sand. I watched quietly, mesmerized as I forgot the entranced crowd beyond me as the clay figure appeared to sculpt the sand herself, drawing up mountains and crafting squat hills. Barth¡¯s magic was honed to a razor¡¯s edge as his summoned golem continued in a slow pace across the stage, leaving behind jagged cliffs, soaring peaks, and rolling plains.


    And behind Mother Earth, Sister Nature knelt. Where her mother molded and pulled, Sister Nature painted. Everywhere her hands brushed, the sand was coated in shades of green. She tended to each and every mountain and valley, granting them a splash of color.


    I heard one of the members of the audience gasp in awe. Were I not able to spot the green dye as it was expertly transferred across the sand, I might have gaped in incredulity as well.


    ¡°But there were others who were jealous of such beauty, of such imagination,¡± Barth said gravely.


    Two more figures appeared behind Sister Nature and Mother Earth¨Cthese ones far from the calm and tranquil airs of their predecessors. A twisting vortex of sand solidified into a man with a long, flowing beard, his face still indistinct. Yet despite this, I could almost sense the anger radiating from the little golem.


    ¡°Father Sky detested Mother Earth¡¯s art,¡± Barth said solemnly. ¡°For he was of the air itself¨Cand every time a mountain was raised with monumental peaks, they infringed on his territory, his home. They obstructed his freedom.¡±


    The figure of Father Sky stomped a boot down on one of the conjured mountains, flattening it as a man squishes a bug. He continued to trail after Mother Earth and Sister Nature, wreaking vengeance on the little bits of art. I heard a child in the audience cry out in alarm and sadness as the hills and valleys were swept away in an artificial tempest.


    Seeing where this was going, I added my own puff of magic. Little white whirlwinds of condensed telekinesis trailed in Father Sky¡¯s wake, my regalia assisting me.


    Before my ascension to white core and the increase of my psychokinetic abilities, such minute control and split focus would have been impossible. But now, little mock tornadoes ravaged the sandy theater, truly selling the idea of the destruction that Barth wanted to show.


    Barth shook his head, appearing saddened by the destruction on his stage. Wherever Father Sky went, the careful artistry of Mother Earth and Sister Nature were undone. Spots of green littered the earth, and in my mind¡¯s eye, I could imagine a hurricane flattening trees and obliterating everything in its path. ¡°And behind them all, Brother Fire trailed angrily, wiping away all that was left. For he hated his sister the most of all, and desired her art to burn beyond all others.¡±


    This time, Barth shot me a covert wink. Catching onto his meaning, I engaged my magic.


    A figure of solid fire appeared behind Father Sky, looking just as indistinct. But as the automaton of flame stomped in the living storm¡¯s wake, embers jumped off of him, charring the little specks of green dye that they encountered, leaving them blackened and tainted.


    ¡°On and on and on this cycle went¨Ccreation, destruction, and more creation,¡± Barth said to the enraptured crowd, ¡°as such was nature back in the age of legends. Mother Earth cared not that her creations were destroyed, simply that she could continue to make more. Father Sky wished that his territory would never be infringed upon, and Brother Fire quietly envied Sister Nature.¡±


    I stared at the tapestry of magic playing out before me with a slight smile. It was an interesting narrative that Barth weaved, one that I had seen many times in my time on Earth. It sounded like an old folk tale that explained the erosion of mountains and cycles of the world, of which I knew many. Yet this had a distinctly Dicathian feel that made it seem¨C


    ¡°But then the Dragon saw the carnage and devastation left in their wake,¡± Barth said, cutting across my thoughts, ¡°and he was dismayed.¡±


    The figures of nature continued on in their endless cycle, but I felt a bolt of surprise as a conjured dragon inspected the charred remnants of their wake.


    The scene changed. The blackened dye and figures of Sister Nature and Father Sky were subsumed back into the stage. I allowed my conjured idealization of Brother Fire to dissipate as I watched with a growing suspicion in my stomach.


    Now, it was the Dragon and Mother Earth alone, facing off against each other.


    ¡°So the Dragon spoke to Mother Earth, demanding that she stop her work. ¡®Everywhere you go, you leave destruction behind you,¡¯ he accused,¡± Barth said solemnly. ¡° ¡®You must stop¨Cfor the sake of everything.¡¯ ¡±


    ¡°But Mother Earth rebuked the Dragon, saying ¡®I destroy nothing. I only create and mold¨Cit is Brother Fire and Father Sky who destroy. They are spirits of chaos. But I? I am order, the earth itself. To command the earth not to shift and change is pointless¨Cas is demanding the sun not to rise or the moon not to wane.¡¯ ¡±


    I unconsciously found myself leaning forward in my seat, my attention entirely captured by the interplay of Dragon and Mountain. Because this story¨Cit appeared to be far, far more special than a simple explanation of erosion and weathering across the years.


    ¡°The Dragon shook his head, further dismayed and saddened by Mother Earth¡¯s response. ¡®You cannot see, for you are large and grand, Mother Earth. But beneath your feet, there are countless living beings. They live and love and breathe as any of us do, yet your creations destroy them. Each raised mountain strands them far from their homes. Each rumbling earthquake destroys their hovels and sanctums¨Cand your step has ended the dreams of thousands.¡¯ ¡±


    Between the Dragon and Mother Earth, a new vision played out¨Cbut this time, it was from the perspective of a grain of sand. Of a human. Their world shook and roiled as the very landscape seemed to turn against them. A small, cowering figure of sand clutched a family of even smaller puppets, trembling before being fully washed away.


    ¡°And Mother Earth saw the results of her actions; saw what the Dragon implied. But still, she would not relent. She was stone¨Cunyielding and unmoving. ¡®I am the earth,¡¯ the spirit of the ground replied, ¡®and I cannot stop in my purpose. These lessers may toil and try beneath my feet, but my grand art is more beautiful than anything they shall ever create. Such is existence.¡¯ ¡± S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Dragon figurine tilted its head, and I could almost feel the sadness in its posture. ¡° ¡®Then it seems we must battle, for I will not allow the destruction of life, no matter how feeble.¡¯ ¡±


    And as the Dragon reared back its head, preparing to blast a gout of sand at the other construct, I felt Aurora¡¯s attention finally settle on me as well. Just as I had become enraptured by the story playing out before me, so too did my bond.


    The battle between Dragon and Mother Earth raged across the board. I assisted where I could with little bursts of fire and miniature arcs of solid sound, adding to the spectacle. But my mind was elsewhere, even as the crowd became more and more entranced¨Ceach wanting to know the outcome of this fight.


    But I already knew how it would end¨Cbecause both Aurora and I knew this story in part.


    ¡°But finally, it was clear that there was a victor,¡± Barth said, clenching his fist.


    Mother Earth appeared worn and broken. Like a cracked piece of pottery, the lines of wear and exhaustion were evident even in the puppet¡¯s body language. It slumped, appearing to struggle to keep itself together.


    ¡° ¡®You were a worthy foe,¡¯ the Dragon said as he loomed over his defeated enemy. ¡®Never before have I fought one as great as you, and never after shall I do so again.¡¯ But Mother Earth would not fall so simply. ¡®You must cleave true and fast, Dragon,¡¯ she challenged, ¡®because I will rise once more should your strike miss its mark. But know that even in my death, those small lives you protect will always be in danger.¡¯ ¡±


    The dragon figurine reared up, a whirlwind of sand building in its gullet. I prepared my own magic¨Cfocusing deeply as I meshed sound and fire together.


    ¡° ¡®My strike is true,¡¯ the Dragon said, ¡®but we shall always watch over those beneath us: as is our duty as the strong. To protect, rather than needlessly destroy.¡¯ ¡±


    The dragon exhaled, and instead of sand, a beam of pure red plasma hummed as it surged from its mouth. As the plasma struck the stage, the sand turned to glass as it was superheated, before the beam finally struck Mother Earth.


    Carving her neatly in two.


    The audience held their breath¨Cbut the living mountain did not stir. The constructs gradually simmered away, leaving nothing but sand and glass behind. Bartholomew dipped his head. ¡°We don¡¯t know what happened to Sister Nature, Father Sky, or Brother Fire,¡± he said, and he sounded genuinely upset about that. ¡°But the Dragon set his kingdom atop the still body of Mother Earth, both as a sign of respect and warning to all. Any who brought needless death and destruction to those smaller than they would face dragonfire¨Cas it was, and always shall be.¡±


    ¡°You must ask this man the true origins of this story,¡± Aurora said in my mind. ¡°Do you know why?¡±


    I do, I thought back, noting the reactions of the crowd. Just like Barth, they seemed to want more. They weren¡¯t fully satisfied with this ending¨Cand why would they be? They wanted to know how the story truly ended for the family of catastrophes. Because this is no simple tale. It reminds one of Arkanus Indrath and his victory over Geolus, the Living Mountain.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Aurora replied internally, ¡°And the way this man told it is precisely the story told to young asura in Epheotus when they ask of the Indrath¡¯s Castle.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be the end!¡± a young voice cried out from the crowd. I focused on a young girl, no older than Benny as she pulled past her mother. ¡°What about Sister Nature? Brother Fire and Father Sky? What are they gonna do now? There¡¯s gotta be more!¡± she said.


    Barth stroked his short beard, shaking his head solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s all I know, little girl¨Cand it¡¯s in my House¡¯s strictest rules to never tell any more or any less than this. Though you,¡± his eyes twinkled as he leaned over the stage, ¡°you are free to make whatever ending you wish. That¡¯s the power of stories, after all.¡±


    The next words from the crowd, however, made me blink in surprise. ¡°You have Toren here as a performer,¡± a familiar voice said, echoing from within the many watching people, ¡°but we haven¡¯t heard him speak. You talk of stories¨Cbut should we not hear one from the Alacryan?¡± they demanded authoritatively.


    I slowly stood as the familiar voice echoed out, but as usual, I wasn¡¯t able to directly pinpoint who had said it. There was a notable portion of the audience that consisted of young women, and the voice had predictably echoed from there, but¡­


    My heart beat a little faster in my chest as I peered intently at the crowd as if I could pull apart the veil with just my eyes. I locked eyes with many of the women who watched with starry expressions, noting how their own heartfires skipped slightly when I focused on them, but that just confirmed they weren¡¯t my target.


    Barth, evidently, noticed the attention I was getting from the crowd as I stood. He smiled crookedly as he stared at me. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve done my own performance,¡± he said cheerily toward the audience, ¡°but I¡¯m sure none of you have heard an Alacryan tale, eh? Who wants to hear one?¡±


    And to my surprise, there was a chorus of agreement that surged from the crowd. But despite this, I still couldn¡¯t pinpoint the source of the voice within.


    I felt my eyes narrow and restrained a smirk as I stepped up to the little platform of sand, focusing intently on my magic. Barth stepped away, seeming just as focused on me as I¡¯d been on him as he gave me the stage. These people wanted a show¨Cso I¡¯d give them one. And as the sound of dwarven music flowed around us, I knew already what story I would tell.


    ¡°There are many differences between Alacryan and Darvish culture,¡± I started, feeling my mana as it thrummed across my body, ¡°but there¡¯s a lot alike, too. We don¡¯t have adventurers like you do¨Cbut we do have Ascenders¨Cmages who dive into the long-forgotten remnants of the ancient mages, searching for wealth, power, and prestige.¡±


    I clenched my fist, and a figure of solid fire slowly formed from the ground up. The figure of solid fire exuded confidence as they turned toward the crowd, a mask covering their upper face. If one looked closely, they might be able to spot their short ponytail as they turned.


    ¡°This story is about an Ascender,¡± I said, my smile softening, ¡°and a Sorceress.¡±

 Chapter 225: The Ascender and the Sorceress

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Another figure of flame slowly coalesced across from the Ascender. The little figurine of fire affected a severe and calculated air, her chin turned up and a mask covering her face as well. The Sorceress stared imperiously at the Ascender as they faced each other.


    ¡°Now, those among you in the crowd probably think you know where this is going,¡± I said, sparing a glance up at the watching audience, ¡°it¡¯s a really, really basic story, I guess, as far as these sorts of things go. But I implore you to listen anyway.¡±


    The Ascender¨Cformed of solid fire and burning brightly¨Cwent through a dozen familiar martial forms. Little figurines of flame popped into existence, mirroring aether beasts as they charged at the man of heat. The spectacle was something to behold.


    Barth¡¯s control of his golems was supernatural, clearly honed over many decades to a precision point. When I watched him control them and make his little play, I wondered if he was a silver core mage from the level of skill.


    But I? I was a white core mage. The world itself rushed to respond to my barest whims, and organic casting was beyond instinctual. This showed clearly in the great dance of the Ascender as they wielded a thin saber of plasma, striking out and felling aether beast after aether beast. Slowly, my little demonstration grew in size and scope, extending out past the little field Barth had conjured. The figures grew and grew as the awestruck crowd stepped away from the solid constructs, each nearly lifelike.


    The earth rose a bit from the ground, creating a slight stage as someone else used their magic. I shot a thankful look at Barth. His grin was so wide you¡¯d thought he¡¯d just won the lottery as he watched me flex my skills.


    He really does love stories, I thought, sensing his intent in a way I never had been able to before. I¡¯ll have to make this one worth remembering.


    ¡°The Ascender was a master of the blade and deadly with his magics,¡± I finally said, allowing my voice to travel with a touch of sound magic. ¡°There was no beast he could not kill; no monster that could bar his path. Up and up and up he went, as all ascenders do, through the Relictombs.¡±


    A tower of fire rose from the cobblestones, twisting and winding as I exerted my will over the forming energies. It rose like a spear to the heavens, drawing gasps of awe and surprise from all present. In tune, almost without having to ask me, Barth conjured his own tower within my fiery construct, giving it definition and detail I couldn¡¯t manage with my flames. We worked together, he and I, in this little display of showmanship.


    ¡°In Alacrya, we don¡¯t have dungeons,¡± I said, stepping out from behind Barth¡¯s little stand and toward the stage. It was around three feet off the ground, and the tower on top stretched to nearly four times my height. ¡°Instead, we grind our mettle against the unending challenges of the Relictombs. To fight and battle within brings glory to your Blood, and one hones their edge and prowess through countless trials.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t exactly model the Relictombs, seeing as how they were a nigh endless connection of pocket dimensions linked together: but a tower seemed fitting. And considering the awe-struck intent of the mages around me and the enthralled looks from the many people I was performing for, I assumed I was on the right track.


    With the barest iota of will, the Ascender figure¡ªjust about as tall as my shins¡ªstepped into the tower of earth and fire. Little applications of sound magic mimicked the roars of beasts and the clashing of steel inside as the conjured puppet rose and rose, the windows of the circular tower flickering with mimed spellfire. I absorbed the gasps of the crowd as I stood off to the side, sensing more and more people crowded around. Barth gave a throaty chuckle as he moved to stand beside me, two performers moving as one.


    I smiled, the edges of my eyes crinkling as I felt the heartbeats of these dwarves, men, and elves slowly sink into tune as they were absorbed by the wondrous display. It made me think of when I¡¯d played music with Korsted, when individuality drained away into something greater.


    I snapped my fingers, and the tower melted apart, flowing like candlewax to the stones. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, Barth allowed his conjured spell to crumble to the stage floor, too. The fiery Ascender tumbled, rolled along the ground, and came up warily, fiery eyes looking around in fear.


    ¡°Except,¡± I said quietly, my eyes glinting as I let them roam over the crowds, ¡°Things are never as they seem in Alacrya. The shadows hold trials of their own, not just the Relictombs.¡±


    And from the smoke of Barth¡¯s conjured rubble, something large and looming rose. With a push of my regalia, the stones lifted, forming a mocking, twisted grin as it strung itself out malevolently. Even as I stared at it, I felt something like bile surge angrily in the back of my throat. The massive serpent of sand hissed with malevolence, a shadow cast over the Ascender that made his light dim.


    ¡°There was a monster too great for even the Ascender. A serpent whose fangs were too sharp; whose venom stung too deep. And that serpent was crafty and intelligent. It knew precisely where it needed to sink those fangs to bring its adversary low.¡±


    I exhaled a shuddering breath as I watched the Ascender slowly back away from the massive, flaming serpent. And behind the conjured snake, the bodies of countless innocents slowly sizzled away. Barth¡¯s intent shifted as he created a dozen tiny gravestones from the stage, his emotional high from earlier at finding a new story whittling away.


    Because he¡¯d sensed by now that this story wasn¡¯t just any. It was personal. Real.


    I looked back at the crowd, meeting the eyes of as many as I could. Searching. Probing. ¡°Alacrya is not a kind place. It is a place of strength and magical might. It is a place where the weak are subsumed as sustenance for the strong, and all they can do is accept their fate. This Serpent was a manifestation of that, you understand. It was cruel and wretched, yet it only brought to light the ills already present.¡±


    Barth¡¯s movements became a bit more still beside me as I spoke. He¡¯d wanted an Alacryan story, and so I gave him one. I gave everyone one. I wanted these people to understand¡ªdwarven rebel or not¡ªwhat awaited from a continent away. If they understood it, it would not hurt them as much as it otherwise might.


    But I also wanted to find that one mana signature I¡¯d caught earlier. That one heartbeat that had made mine skip. I wanted to call to it in a way they¡¯d understand.


    I clenched my hand. ¡°Yet not everything was doomed by this malevolent creature. Because the Ascender had caught the eye of a very special someone: a Sorceress of the greatest renown and skill saw what he could become, what battles he might face. And so the Sorceress weaved an illusion about her form, before striding to face the Serpent herself.¡±


    The illusory Sorceress placed herself between the Serpent and the Ascender. The Serpent halted, rearing back and hissing with fear as the conjured woman¨Cher face still covered by a mask and her hair flowing in the barest breeze¨Cstood strong against the wretched snake¡¯s threats and posturing.


    Darkness could be contested, I tried to convey to all and one. There was a point to it all. A goal.


    ¡°The Sorceress was strong of magic, of course, but what made her unique¨Cwhat gave her true beauty¨Cwas the way she could weave her words. As strong as any spell and as solid as any construct of man, the Sorceress¡¯ words pressed the Serpent back,¡± I said, my heartbeat rising in my chest in tune with the memories. I struggled to keep my intent suppressed as I relived those tense days.


    The Sorceress raised a single hand, waving it dismissively. The act created a streak of orange that lingered in the air, a mesmerizing effect flowing like liquid fire as embers drifted down to the stage below. But the Serpent? He slunk into the darkness, dissipating until only two watching eyes remained.


    ¡°The Serpent wasn¡¯t gone,¡± I said to the crowd, ¡°for only the Ascender could strike it down. But what of the snake¡¯s victims, the ones who had been subjected to its horrid venom?¡±


    And this time, I couldn¡¯t restrain my intent fully as I remembered a girl. Kori, Wade¡¯s sister. Her pleading eyes and the broken bodies of the East Fiachrans were all around.


    My audience shied away as I took a deep breath, their eyes widening as my aura fluctuated slightly¨Cbut I refused to scare them off. ¡°The Serpent was cruel. Vindictive. Hateful. Very few could hope to surpass the sheer malice engraved into its very flesh.¡±


    The scene shifted, revealing a fiery Ascender sitting beside a hospital bed. And across from him? Across from him was the Sorceress.


    I could sense Barth¡¯s eyebrow rising as he looked at me, then looked at the crowd. He¡¯d evidently noticed I¡¯d been searching for someone there. I could sense the realization of what I was doing slotting into place in his mind, and he suppressed a sudden burst of laughter at the entire thing. His eyes sparkled and his intent rose with such merriment that a smile rose on my face, too.


    That¡¯s right, I thought, projecting my intent through the world around me. This isn¡¯t all a tale of sorrow. It¡¯s one of hope, too.


    ¡°When first the Ascender met the Sorceress,¡± I said solemnly, ¡°he thought her manipulative. Cunning. Apathetic. He believed her to be uncaring for the venom trailing in the Serpent¡¯s wake.¡±


    I shook my head slowly as the audience stayed transfixed on the static scene. ¡°The Ascender was wrong. So, so very wrong. For the Sorceress was ice to all around her, but her heart was set on her course, and none could sway it.¡±


    And within the Sorceress¡¯ chest, a different color fire emerged. Instead of the orange of common flame, a deep red bloomed over her heart, spreading through her illusory ribcage and pulsing in tune with my own. And as that red fire spread, so too did the Ascenders grow to match¨Ctwo hearts pulsing in unison.


    I smirked wryly at the crowd. ¡°I don¡¯t know how many of you have ever fallen in love,¡± I said, ¡°but those who do can surely see what¡¯s happened here. The poor Ascender made what many would call a mistake, and what others might say is the smartest thing they ever did. He let the Sorceress get close.¡±


    I felt a smirk rise on my lips as I caught another trace of what I was looking for, startlingly bright against the smoldering emotions of the crowd.


    ¡°So the Ascender vowed to prove to this Sorceress that he could complete his goal. The Serpent would fall in time.¡±


    The scene I conjured glimmered with light. The Ascender¨Ca burning bonfire of deep red in his chest standing stark against his otherwise orange composition¨Cdarted around, scraping at shadows and swinging his blade in a mimed training kata. With every swing, the fiery outline expanded just a little, swelling in strength and power as he sought the apex of his might. More and more and more it grew with every swing, bursts of fire and flame swirling about him like an intricate dance.


    I fell into my Acquire Phase as I focused on the performance. Flame cast the entire world in warm orange light as the Ascender jumped, spun, and kicked outward, little glimmering crystals of spiraling telekinesis carrying every ember in a beautiful display. Gouts of controlled and spiraling heat burst over the gathered spectators, dropping little, harmless embers like red snowflakes as they went. The crowd gasped in awe as the spectacle unfolded, watching the primal power of the flames dancing above and around their heads.


    Throughout the entirety of the Ascender¡¯s mimicked training, the Sorceress weaved about him, inspecting and watching like some sort of ethereal fae. Her heart was the same deep crimson as the Ascender¡¯s, and her mask glimmered lightly. Even as the Ascender turned, she kept to the shadows, her hands drifting inquisitively over the growing power of the fire-borne figurine. One might have almost caught a smile on her lips.


    ¡°And finally, the time came,¡± I said in a whisper that carried like an ocean current. ¡°Finally, the time came to face the Serpent for his evils. The time came for them to clash blades again. The Ascender had chased the Sorceress¡¯ vision, and now he was at the peak of his might. The Serpent had languished and committed fell atrocities to improve his strength.¡±


    The stage was set. The Ascender stood on one side, a nimbus of rising power. The night air bent and warped around the conjured construct, the light twisting as if the figure were a summer afternoon made manifest. At the far end of the stage, the Serpent rose once more, bigger and more threatening. It hissed savagely, towering over the little figurine and the crowd as well. I felt the intents of the many mages watching shudder from the mana compressed into the twisted representation of a foe long gone.


    The air was silent for a moment. Tenuous and stark, as anxiety built. Hushed murmurs and anxious grinding of teeth reached me from the many men and women gathered about the oncoming confrontation. Like an overstretched rubber band, I let the momentum grow.


    And then it snapped. The two figures¡ªone barely three feet tall, the other fifteen¡ªcollided in a controlled explosion that made gasps echo all around me.


    But even as I created a controlled rendition of a long-past battle, with little dots of colorful fireworks busting all through the sky and colorful fireflies that zipped and weaved in a display that would put any stage performer to shame, my eyes were focused on the crowd again.


    I finally caught sight of that intent I¡¯d been looking for, just for a moment. They were shrouded in a dark cloak, slightly small in stature, and seemingly blended perfectly into the crowd.


    And as everyone present kept their eyes focused on the night sky as little fireworks popped and two ribbons of flame danced, came apart, recoalesced, and crashed together again, I reined in my aura, and flowed like the breeze.


    The figure was already gone when I reached their shadowed corner, leaving only a faint hint of floral perfume. Orange light danced across the cobblestones in a warm glow as a few young women seemed to belatedly recognize I was there, each of them squeaking in surprise and backing away, flushes in their cheeks.


    I ignored those reactions, instead pushing out all other sounds. Explosions and pops of power danced overhead, light flashing behind my eyelids. I focused. I honed in. And I heard it.


    I moved again, this time further away from the growing spectacle of the fight between the Ascender and the Serpent. The crowds were thick during this festival, and I had to push my way past a number of startled men and dwarves as I wove through the party-goers. I caught a few more flashes of that dark cloak and that shadow-clung figure, but then they vanished again, swept away by the crowd.


    I felt a smirk rise on my face as the chase continued, my heartrate rising. I remembered the scene I¡¯d conjured not so long ago, of an Ascender training and weaving about a goal as the Sorceress kept out and on the side of his vision.


    I could sense her, just on the edge of my periphery. She was moving, stalking like a lioness as she drifted naturally through the crowd. Unnoticed and unseen. I was taller than most, and I could see countless different heads and faces moving like a congested tumble as the excited chatter and intent of the partygoers brushed past me like silk weaving a tapestry of infectious joy.


    Far and away, I kept the explosive clash of the play going by an effort of will, but I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold it long with such distance.


    I continued my forward walk more cautiously this time, goosebumps trailing on the edge of my skin. I could feel flashes of her. Her intent, heartbeat, perfume¡­ It was here and there, spiraling inward like water down a drain. She was getting closer, I thought, her serpentine coils ready to cinch shut around me. My eyes darted across the crowd, trying to find her¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t.


    I took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly. I closed my eyes, focusing.


    I turned around, then lifted a single finger: just in time to brush it against the pale chin of someone who had been about to reach my back. They were shrouded in a dark cloak that masked their features from all, but the pale skin beneath my hand was familiar. As little fireworks popped in the sky, casting everything in warm hues of orange, they reflected off dark eyes and glimmering, hidden horns. Seris¡¯ lips were painted black today, accenting the stark allure of her eyes and features.


    ¡°You¡¯re losing your edge, Sorceress,¡± I teased in a low voice, leaning down over Seris¡¯ hidden form. I tilted her chin up with my finger, my eyes drifting down to her lips, then back to those churning eyes. ¡°Look at this: a snake, caught by a hawk.¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s eyes shone with a predatory light as she moved a bit closer to me, both of us monoliths in the crowd. Nobody else seemed to notice us, the strange masking effect of her cloak turning everyone else into a muted haze. She ran a tongue over her lips, drawing my gaze again as she exposed more of her pale throat. ¡°Is that so, Ascender?¡± she taunted, moving closer in the press of people roving past us. The hand she¡¯d been about to use to touch my back instead wove upward, grabbing my collar in a grip fit to crush steel. She pulled me a little bit closer, her breath hot on my face. ¡°Do you think you¡¯ve caught me?¡±


    I felt my pulse drowning out anything like reasonable sense as I leaned over her, struggling to put two coherent thoughts together. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re going anywhere,¡± I said quietly, as her plush lips neared mine. Her hood fell away, revealing her glimmering horns and moon-blessed hair to the starlight high above.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Just as our lips neared, a smile like nothing I¡¯d ever seen stretched across her lips. Instead of meeting me in a kiss, she wove her small body away and past me, leaving me to stumble forward at the sudden lack of presence. I heard her laugh, something I was very rarely faced with, as she disappeared again.


    The hold I had on the play promptly broke apart, just as the Ascender dealt the finishing blow to the Serpent in the near distance in a rising cut that split the night. The entire stage erupted into fire that spewed high into the air, mana and telekinetic forces dancing in a display fit for Vesuvius. Gasps of awe and cheers thrummed through the entirety of the festival-goers as the embers became little feathers, each rising into the sky before dispersing into motes of energy.


    Meanwhile, I was left trying to remember what was up, down, and what the concept of reason was again as I tried to maintain a consistent flow of blood to my brain. That had been neglected for some reason. I couldn¡¯t tell anyone why. Not at all.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± I muttered, still sensing Seris on my periphery. I could feel her taunting, easy smile like a warm brand. I could almost sense each of those fangs of hers on my throat, each of them leading me on like so long ago. It seemed that I was still a little naive.


    I slowly turned, orienting myself toward the Scythe. She indeed bore a loose, knowing smile as she hovered just off the edge of the cobblestone docks, her hands clasped demurely behind her as her cloak fell away. Whenever Seris was amused, her eyes became little crescent moons that glittered like dark stones. And right now, she looked very pleased with herself, as if she had known all along that it would end up this way. She bore the kind of smile a master gives to a pupil when they make an expected mistake.


    I frowned a bit, annoyed as I glared at her. Her lashes lowered in a way that split the starlight wondrously across her face, and she clearly knew it, savoring my irritation as she was.


    ¡°The Ascender never earned his dance with the Sorceress,¡± Seris mouthed, lifting off the ground and drifting out over the water. All eyes ignored her, too focused on the rapturous detonation and display over Barth¡¯s distant stage. ¡°Try not to disappoint her further, hmmm?¡±


    And in a flash, Seris was gone, speeding away in a blur across the water far beyond. The abrupt acceleration kicked up wind around the crowd that made many men curse and grasp at their hats, but I simply narrowed my eyes in the direction Seris zipped toward, her subtle invitation making my spine tingle and my body tense.


    I ran toward the edge of the pier, ignoring the sudden attention of the gathered men and women. The distant, cacophonous detonations had slowed down, and the sudden sonic boom from Seris¡¯ accelerationdid much to draw attention toward this little section of the docks.


    I reached the edge of the docks. I bent my knees, mana churning around me as the atmosphere rushed to appease my whims. The world stood still for the barest moment as I focused on Seris¡¯ retreating form.


    And then I shot upward into the sky, the wind whipping at my hair as I surged after the errant Scythe. I caught a glimpse of Seris far beyond, the moonlight dancing along the surface of the still ocean. Like a single dot of pale silver amidst a sea of reflected light, I honed in on her heartfire as I flitted after her.


    The cool spring breeze caressed my face as I chased after the Scythe. I felt a laugh bubble up from my throat unbidden as the sky called to me, drawing me on with sheer purpose of will. The cliffs of Burim faded away behind us as we tracked deeper into the bay, leaving us both alone on the water.


    The Scythe dipped and weaved, skirting the edges of the waveless water. A wake trailed behind her that sprinkled me with a light shower as I gradually gained on her, the hems of her fluttering dark robes just within reach.


    I reached out a hand, the flare of her dark figure luring me like nothing I¡¯d ever felt. As I got closer and closer to her abyssal temptation, I found my heady mind thinking of the legends of my previous life. I remembered the legends of Pandora¡¯s Box, of all the risks that came with peeling back the lid. But still, I grew closer and closer. My fingers were so, so close¨C


    Seris flashed me a coy, arrogant smile as I closed in, both of us skirting the water. ¡°Not so fast, Toren,¡± she said teasingly, audible even over the roar of the wind. ¡°One should know not to edge so close to a Scythe. You might just get cut.¡±


    Then she dipped her hand into the ocean below, piercing the surface of the water like a knife through flesh, before flinging a veritable wall of water at me.


    I smirked as I surged through the water, driven forward by the pounding of my heart. I burst through the other side, my hand still outstretched, except Seris was gone.


    I blinked in surprise as I found myself alone in the bay, only the remaining ripples of the Scythe¡¯s splash cluing me to the fact that she¡¯d even been here in the first place. Like a lone seaman chasing after the haunting song of a siren, I was abandoned amidst the darkness at the end of it all.


    And just like a sailor bewitched by the allure of the sea, I listened. I listened for that sweet, sweet sound¨Cthe song that had led me along so far.


    I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as I blocked out all else. Sight, smell, touch, taste¡­ I focused solely on my sense of hearing.


    For a moment, there was nothing¨Cand I found some part of me wilt. But the more I listened, the more it became clear.


    A low rumble tump-tump-tumped in my ears, paradoxically glacial and breakneck all at once. I held onto it with my mind like a climber grasps their rope, hauling themself closer and closer to the apex. I inhaled a breath as I turned slowly in the air, orienting toward where I heard that heartbeat.


    And suddenly, a hand caressed my chest. A shiver involuntarily crossed my body as my nerves tingled, each alight with tiny sparks as the sensation of her touch seemed to spread much too far.


    I opened my eyes, staring down at the siren herself as she slowly trailed her fingertips up my chest. I felt as if I¡¯d been frozen by a spell as I watched Seris¡¯ onyx eyes, her hair drawing in the starlight. Her fingertips traced along my jaw musingly, as if she were looking for imperfections or a place to hold.


    Until finally, her hand settled on my cheek. ¡°And you have, predictably, fallen for it all again. So much pomp of being a hawk and hunter, and you are now here in my grasp,¡± Seris prodded with a disappointed frown, her skin like perfect ivory in the darkness. ¡°You should learn to rein in your arrogant tongue before it earns you a lashing, Toren Daen. There is no Sorceress who would appreciate such a thing.¡±


    Though she showed none of it on her face, I could hear the surge of her own heartbeat in the air. I snorted with no little amusement. ¡°But you liked it,¡± I countered, taking her chin in my hand. I wouldn¡¯t let her get away this time. ¡°That¡¯s what matters, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°I suppose I could learn to appreciate such arts,¡± she allowed, her tone dripping with arrogance. My eyes caught on her lips as they formed intentionally around each syllable, and her intent smoldered low with satisfaction as she caught me staring. ¡°But they are so, so unrefined. There¡¯s no definite conclusion to the story. No ending that pulls it all together into something worth enjoying. You showed what happened with the Serpent, but not the Sorceress. Altogether, unsatisfying.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes in response to that, remembering the moment not long ago when Seris had played me for a fiddle. Or would a violin be more appropriate? ¡°The Ascender still caught the Sorceress in the end, though, didn¡¯t he?¡± I teased, forcing the exact smirk Seris disliked onto my face. I pulled her a bit closer, nuzzling my forehead against hers. Shrouded wings slowly grew from my back, the crystalline plates of mana ensorcelling us both as they split the light. ¡°I still think that¡¯s quite the achievement. Maybe the next time I perform a play, I¡¯ll include that bit, too. Make it all ¡®conclusive.¡¯¡±


    Sure enough, I felt the spike of delectable annoyance in Seris¡¯ intent as her fingers dug into my skin as my smirk dug into her. ¡°It was never a matter of you catching me,¡± she said breathily, forced disdain dripping from her tone as her breath brushed my face. ¡°Because if you had a lick of sense, you would recognize that this was part of a plot all along. Can one truly claim to have won in a chase when they were led on all along? How many more times must we play this game for you to recognize I have always won?¡±


    I tried to think of a clever retort, but I was having trouble rubbing two braincells together at that point. I decided that I would think of something witty later. When reason had reasserted itself over everything else.


    As our lips drifted closer, I recalled the last time we had inched this close to the edge. ¡°Would you still like that song I promised you?¡± I asked quietly, so low only she could hear. ¡°I made an Oath.¡±


    Seris sighed contentedly. ¡°Do you always ask pointless questions when a woman wants to kiss you, Toren Daen?¡± she whispered. ¡°I can hear your heartbeat loud as any drum. That tells me enough.¡±


    We kissed there, enshrouded in the night sky as we stood over the lake. It was a short, sweet thing. I never thought a kiss could feel so fulfilling.


    When we pulled away, I allowed myself to look the Scythe up and down appreciatively. My hands drifted to wrap around her waist, holding her there in a quiet embrace. ¡°I still would like to,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I¡¯m a hopeless, foolish romantic.¡±


    Seris tucked a lock of my hair back behind my ear as she tilted her head inquisitively. ¡°You made that promise because you saw past my cloaking artifact¡­ But I think that my cloaking artifact is useless, now,¡± she said simply, her eyes searching mine. ¡°I wonder if I shall ever be able to skulk in the shadows again with your infuriating light.¡±


    I hummed in consideration, watching as the Scythe raised a hand. She pulled a pendant from beneath her neckline, before raising it up consideringly. She chuckled lightly as she imbued a sliver of mana into it. Then another. Then another.


    A slight smile split her face as she looked down at the pendant, her graceful fingers holding it like the feathers of a dove.


    I raised a brow in confusion at her actions, not seeing what she found so amusing. ¡°What¡¯s so funny, Seris? I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t see it.¡±


    Something about my words acted like a drop of kerosene into an already building fire. Seris¡¯ horns glinted darkly as she threw back her head, her pearlescent hair shimmering in the moonlight as she burst out into pure, uncontained laughter. She melted slightly into my touch, suffusing the air with intent so radiant in its amusement that I felt the urge to laugh as well, though I knew not why.


    ¡°I burned so many hours of my life trying to perfect this little amulet so I could hide away my emotions from empaths that saw too much,¡± Seris finally said as her laughter quieted. Her smile was somewhere between mirthful and truly free. ¡°And now, you cannot tell if it is attuned or not when I switch it on and off. With your ascension to the white core, your sight pierces right through to my heart regardless of what I desire. I almost feel as if it was a waste.¡±


    I swallowed slightly, recalling all the times I¡¯d sensed more than I should have. ¡°You could improve its design again,¡± I offered. Though I¡¯d probably see past that eventually, too.


    ¡°I could,¡± Seris replied honestly, looking into my eyes. ¡°But it seems I am fated to always be playing catchup in learning more about you, Toren. I have always worked with unfair odds, but this feels especially weighted in your favor.¡±


    At Seris¡¯ words, my thoughts drifted back to when she¡¯d presented me with her puzzle, and she¡¯d scarred my hands. In the end, she¡¯d demanded I tear away her masks.


    ¡°You asked me once,¡± I started, my words quiet as they left me, ¡°to tell you what you feared the most.¡±


    I could let some of my masks fall, too.


    Seris nodded slowly, the mirth in her smile overcoming the amusement at the recollection. That was a turning point for us. That was where I recognized¡ªreally began to understand¡ªwhat my ability to sense and influence emotions did to someone who wished to stay hidden in the dark.


    Things like this¡­ They were a give and a take. I felt like I¡¯d taken so, so much from the Scythe. I could give her more, couldn¡¯t I?


    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you what I feared in turn,¡± I admitted, the reality of the world seeping back in.


    Seris¡¯ smile fell away as she sensed my emotions, no doubt following my train of thought perfectly. ¡°What do you fear, Toren?¡±


    For a moment, the only sound audible to me was the ocean breeze. ¡°I fear losing you,¡± I finally said. ¡°Losing Aurora. Sevren. Naereni. Everyone I care for.¡±


    Seris was quiet for a time as she stared up at me solemnly, waiting for me as I struggled to put my emotions into words. ¡°But that¡¯s only part of it, I think. I¡¯m afraid that any loss will be because of me. I¡¯m terrified that I¡¯ll cause it all to break, somehow. That if everything goes to hell, it will be my fault.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t anyone special in my previous life. I wasn¡¯t a king like Arthur or a genius inventor like Nico. I wasn¡¯t the Legacy like Cecilia. But I belonged.


    This world seemed to have an inherent place for each of the reincarnates. Arthur¡¯s family gravitated toward him, and his place as a Lance and brother and son felt natural. Nico was a burning, dark fire of vengeance. His role was not a happy one, but it was a Fate-destined path. And so too with the Legacy. There was a rhyme in the edicts that laid a path for her, even if she didn¡¯t see it. Even if it was unfair and wrong.


    But not for me. I¡¯d carved my own places, of course. I made hearths with the people I loved, but I¡¯d had to work and claw and scrape for those embers. It was through that that I learned the truth. The people around me were who made me special. It was through my relationships that I became worthy of the blessings I received.


    But in many ways, I was still an outsider. The people of East Fiachra welcomed Toren Daen, the boy who grew up in the slums and worked night and day in the Healer¡¯s Guild, but they didn¡¯t know the man from another world who might have worked with computers or gone on to live an entire other life. The rebel dwarves of Dicathen cheered for Spellsong, the Alacryan who heralded their freedom and life. But they could never know the man who dreaded, deep inside, that he had been tasked with carrying the last embers of a civilization doomed for extinction.


    Sometimes, I felt like every step was that of an interloper, even though I knew I couldn¡¯t blame myself. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But It was hard sometimes. It was hard not to lay the actions of everyone else at my feet as I changed the future, and it was hard to find a place that fit the puzzle piece that was Toren Daen.


    I remembered the depths of the Central Cathedral. Where Greahd died because of me; because I called attention to her. And I remembered the yawning intent of Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn, each blaming me. Would they have lived without me?


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I don¡¯t belong,¡± I forced out, struggling to say the words. ¡°And I¡¯m afraid that¡­ that because I don¡¯t belong¡­ I¡¯ll hurt everyone I want to help. Because I want to help so, so much, Seris.¡±


    Seris shifted slightly, no doubt feeling the undercurrent of my emotions as my memories drew them to the surface. The truth of my fears radiated across my intent and into the air as a song in and of themselves, sinking claws deep into my beating heart. For the first time, the Scythe knew all I kept hidden.


    Seris watched me with a sad, crestfallen expression on her face. And then, she was moving forward, wrapping me in a slight embrace.


    The Scythe was a small woman. As she pressed her face into the strong lines of my shoulder, she might as well have been a willow branch before a mighty oak. But she felt far, far larger in that moment.


    It somehow felt more¡­ Intimate than our earlier kiss, as I returned the gentle embrace. When she finally pulled away from me, I struggled to meet her eyes, feeling as if I¡¯d thrust a great burden onto the Scythe¡¯s slim shoulders.


    ¡°I would never have known,¡± Seris said quietly, nuzzling closer as she savored my body heat. ¡°So desperately, you play your music. So desperately, you feel everything. Because you want¡­¡±


    She trailed off, looking up at me as understanding¡ªsweet, beautiful, wonderful understanding¡ªradiated from the crests and waves of her intent. I released a breath I hadn¡¯t known I¡¯d been holding as I stared down at her.


    ¡°You give me hope, Toren,¡± Seris said, leaning her head against my chest. I exhaled, trying to center my thoughts as I held her small frame against my body. ¡°Did you know that? Even with all this fear of yours.¡±


    I remained quiet, gazing up at the moon above. And as I recalled my fears, I imagined them as a two-sided coin. On one side was the gripping doubt and fear, cultivated in each step I¡¯d traveled through this war. On the other¡­


    ¡°You give me hope, too,¡± I finally replied, allowing that emotion to flow into the sky.


    ¡°How so?¡± Seris¡¯ quiet voice asked, muffled slightly from how she nuzzled against me like a contented cat. ¡°I want to know more of your secrets, Toren. Fears are nice to know. They¡¯re human, as you said. But they¡¯re not everything.¡±


    My brow furrowed slightly as I rubbed circles on Seris¡¯ back. ¡°When I first came to this world, my vision for the future always ended with Nico,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I need to kill him, to stop the descent of the Legacy¨Cbut I saw no path after. Everything just¡­ ended, at that point. I think I expected everything to go up in flames.¡±


    I sensed Seris¡¯ eyes on me as I traced the constellations far above, the wind buffeting my shrouded wings, yet no breeze whisked away our warmth. ¡°A bold plan,¡± the Sorceress admonished playfully. ¡°And you were barely a mage a year past, were you not? Fascinating, that a Scythe has decided to grace you as her consort in such a short time.¡±


    I chuckled slightly, tracing the Struggling Ascender as the constellation chased the Basilisk¡¯s Tail. ¡°Except that wasn¡¯t part of the plan,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Neither was Aurora, or Sevren, or Naereni and all the others I care for. And now I look forward to what will come of my days after Nico. Days beyond not just the Scythe, but the Sovereigns, too. It gives me hope that there is a place where I can belong.¡±


    We stayed like that, enjoying each other¡¯s company for an indeterminate infinity. I allowed myself to imagine it. Already I¡¯d set this world down a different track than the one I knew. I could lament and fight against the future all I wanted, but I needed to learn to act like the Scythe in my arms. To take each blow in stride and push forward. I¡¯d need to work out some sort of plan with Seris to ensure Nico¡¯s death, too.


    Even as I held Seris close, I felt my mind trickle down long-worn paths and worries for a bit. This time, though, there was a glimmering silver lining that traced my thoughts, giving each plan and idea a bit of hope. Both sides of the coin of fear reflected the light.


    But then something in the air shifted.


    I felt it in the mana first, like a dozen questing tendrils snaking across the sky. On instinct, I looked up once more: and I nearly gasped in awe.


    The Aurora Constellate weaved its way across the sky. Like curtains of delicate light, the pale greens and bright scarlets flared, yet each cascading ribbon was transparent as the most fragile fabric. Each swung like a graceful dancer, charting paths across the atmosphere.


    I knew not how long I stared up at the lights, quietly in disbelief. It had been a long time since I¡¯d accepted my place in this new world, but I felt a dreadful uncertainty sneak its way into my psyche again.


    Because it simply couldn¡¯t be true, could it? The skies crisscrossed by magic that came only once every few years, with a woman that shone like the moon itself in my arms? The surreal nature of it all washed over me in that instant, and I wondered¨Cfor the second time since I¡¯d awoken in this world¨Cif it was all a dream.


    ¡°Seris,¡± I said quietly, gently distancing myself from the Scythe, ¡°back in the ballroom so long ago, I failed to ask you something.¡±


    My wings swept behind me as I bowed slightly, mirroring my position earlier in the night as I stared meaningfully into Seris¡¯ eyes. I held an inviting palm aloft, my fingers cold without her touch. ¡°Will you dance with me?¡±


    ¡°Trying to be romantic again,¡± Seris said, smiling softly as she took my hand, squeezing lightly. ¡°Are you going to dazzle and awe me with dances from another world?¡±


    I shook my head lightly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know that much, Seris,¡± I said honestly, ¡°but I¡¯m sure I won¡¯t disappoint.¡±


    It turned out that I was a poor dancer, even in the skies. Seris clearly knew every move better than I did, but her subtle prodding ensured I didn¡¯t step on her metaphorical toes.


    But that didn¡¯t really matter. Beneath the Constellate, all my thoughts of the war drifted away. My tensions and fears of Agrona and the looming battles to come became less than afterthoughts as I allowed myself to relax for this brief moment.


    Indeed, the stars weren¡¯t so far out of reach.

 Chapter 226: Roses

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    The Royal Palace in Zestier was clean.


    I¡¯d always known this, even when I was young. Every inch and corner of the Royal Suites was kept free of dust and debris, each spot almost sparkling with reflected light. A subtle floral scent pervaded the entire complex, lending an aura of relaxation and pristine perfection I¡¯d seen nowhere else.


    And now that I¡¯d been sent back to this place, all those little details felt so much more obvious.


    It¡¯s these little things I¡¯m noticing now, I thought as I stepped out of the bath, water streaming off me. The private baths in the Royal Palace were connected directly to a natural spring, creating an air of wonder that filled the small chamber. Even the water seemed a bit too crystal-clear as it dripped onto the stones beneath me.


    I casually stretched out an arm in silent command to a nearby maid¨Can elven woman who had served the royal family of Elenoir since before I was born. Anea Asyphin strode over quickly, proffering a towel out to me.


    I gave the maid a subtle nod of respect as she averted her eyes with a bow, as was befitting our differing social stations. With the ease of long-practiced grace, I threaded the towel around my bare body, already missing the warmth of the baths.


    ¡°My Lady, would you like for me to prepare your dress for the day?¡± Anea asked in a subservient tone, still bowing with her eyes locked on the stones.


    I resisted the urge to sigh, instead maintaining the delicate mask of the Princess of Elenoir. ¡°No, Anea. That won¡¯t be necessary. I will tend to my own dress and clothing,¡± I said calmly.


    Anea nodded slightly, her gray-streaked hair more prominent in the low light of the bath chamber. ¡°If you ever wish for it, we live to serve at your command,¡± she said demurely, before backing away.


    I watched her go with complicated emotions warring in my stomach. Before I¡¯d gone off to war, Anea had tended to nearly every one of my needs. Warming the water for my baths, preparing my dress and clothing for the day, and presenting my meals.


    But then I¡¯d waded deep in the mud of the battlefield. As part of the Trailblazer Division, I hadn¡¯t been afforded the luxuries of a princess. If I wanted a bath, I needed to go find a stream myself and pull the water. If I wanted to eat, I could either take the horrid rations provided or hunt for myself. And whenever my clothes were damaged or torn, there were no seamstresses waiting on me to sew them up in a split-second.


    And now I was back in Zestier, living the high life once again. But for some reason, it didn¡¯t feel that way.


    These thoughts and more occupied my mind as I strode gracefully into the changing room. I found simple pleasure in choosing my clothing for the day¨Can elegant dress that accentuated all the features I bore in shades of dark green and silver. Yet unlike most dresses, the leggings of this one were long and designed for freedom of movement.


    I stared down at the dress with a furrowed brow. I¡¯d always loved the designs of elegant clothes and lavish attire that my position afforded me, but now I couldn¡¯t simply wear them anymore. Not without subtle assurances like this¨Cthat I could always be ready to fight and defend myself at any time.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just be a rose,¡± I murmured, running my hands along the expensive silk, no doubt worth more than most commoners could afford in their lifetime. ¡°I need to have thorns, too.¡±


    But by being shipped back here¨Cback into the heart of my kingdom and the very place I¡¯d grown up as a child¨Cmy thorns had been stripped from me. Grandpa had promised me¨Cgave his word¨Cthat I could fight for my continent. That I could make a difference in this war.


    My hands clenched involuntarily around the dress as bitter anger surged through my veins. The betrayal stung something so deep inside of me, tore at something I never knew could be torn.


    Grandpa had always, always kept his word. He¡¯d never gone back on it; not in the entirety of my upbringing. In a world of uncertainty and changing circumstances, that was the one thing I knew I could rely on. Grandpa would always come through for me.


    Mana twisted in my core as tears threatened to escape the corners of my eyes. It wasn¡¯t fair. I¡¯d worked so hard, proved myself to everyone around me. That was why I was the head of a unit! Because I¡¯d proven I wasn¡¯t just a pretty princess, damned to sit around a palace all day and be tended to like a glass sculpture!


    I blinked in surprise as I felt a familiar sensation brush against my mind, my downward spiral of emotions petering out as a cool balm, like fresh spring water, eased across my thoughts.


    The source was easy to find.


    My Elderwood Guardian Will? I thought with surprise, noting the cool brush of its touch. Like water being tossed on a red-hot iron, I felt my emotions cool slightly as the will continued to try and¡­ soothe me?


    I sniffled slightly, exhaling as my thoughts finally settled back under control. I wiped away the single tear that had managed to escape from my eye.


    My Beast Will had changed after whatever Toren Daen had done. Before, it hadn¡¯t really felt evil¨Cbut it was always heavy. Like there was a weight to every action and quiet anger surging through every utilization of it. If I wasn¡¯t careful, I could very easily lose control of myself as the aggressive nature took hold.


    But now, that weight was lifted, for lack of a better term. In fact, the Beast Will in my core felt lighter than the clouds in the sky. And though I hadn¡¯t had much time to really inspect what was different, the sentience of the power was far more kind.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said quietly, unsure if my words would be understood.


    I didn¡¯t exactly get a response, just a bit more cool nectar flooding my thoughts before my Beast Will retreated fully back into its slumber.


    With another minute to compose myself, I slotted myself back into the role of the Princess of Elenoir. I had faced beasts far worse than just palace maids and people wanting to tend to me. I could do this.


    ¡ª


    Breakfast was a dull affair. I sat demurely in a tall seat at the table I¡¯d always occupied all throughout my youth as attendants brought out steaming dishes and succulent fruits.


    In the flying castle, the meals were always prepared with the expectation that there would be leftovers. The humans ate without true care for scarcity, even when they were holed up in a floating fortress. I remembered seeing heaps of plates and expensive delicacies being brought to the waiting nobles during feasts.


    But in Elenoir, we learned to always be aware of what we had. Large-scale farming was difficult with the mists pervading the entirety of Elshire, blocking out sunlight and strangling any attempt at agriculture. The elven population relied on nature-deviant mages to artificially enhance the growth of our crops, alongside regular hunting and trade from the adventurers in the Beast Glades.


    That all showed in how I was served. Each portion was moderately sized, cut and served with exacting efficiency. Smoked slices of drowthorn elk meat sat placidly beside savory vegetables, but there was neither too much nor too little of both. If I finished my plate of food, another helping of similar portions would be brought to me.


    I exhaled a long sigh, pushing the vegetables around in a slow circle with a fork. The florets of broccoli rolled languidly in the exquisite sauce, but no matter how much the savory aroma of the dressing brushed tantalizingly against my nose, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to take a bite.


    ¡°My Lady,¡± a concerned voice said from the side, ¡°forgive the impudence, but you must eat. It is imperative that you keep up your health,¡± Anea said, giving me a worried look from where she stood a few feet away.


    My vision flashed, and suddenly it wasn¡¯t a piece of broccoli I was moving around on my plate, but the head of a mana beast. The illusion of my mind lasted only a moment, but already my fork gored through the flesh of the creature.


    And then it was just food again, my fork scraping against the bottom of my plate in a grating sound.


    I gnashed my teeth, feeling my restlessness build in my core again as I struggled not to glare at the innocent plate of food in front of me. ¡°I¡¯m going for a walk,¡± I said sternly, standing slowly and pushing away from the table¨Call with the proper etiquette required of a princess, of course.


    Anea blinked, then bowed again with a slight slump to her shoulders as she no doubt realized she couldn¡¯t force me to do anything. I strode away before she could say anything else, and I could, unfortunately, sense my hidden protectors as they shifted to follow me.


    I struggled not to march through the palace as I made my way toward the gardens, feeling like the walls inched closer and closer with every step I took. As a mid-silver core mage, the palace guards my parents had assigned as protection to me couldn¡¯t hide their mana signatures even as they kept a fair distance.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to stride from the personal quarters of the Royal Family to the solid wood doors that opened into the gardens. After all, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for the past monarchs of Elenoir to have their breakfasts in the calm solitude of the Royal Gardens.


    With a huff, I pushed open the solid doors, rays of sunlight barely peeking through as I stepped into the cool grass.


    It was peaceful outside. Amazingly so. The shoreblossoms grinned in an inviting shade of pale blue, dotting the small hills of the wall-enclosed space. All around me, different shades of spring sang their tunes to the sky.


    And as I looked up, I felt a bit of my tension quietly release. Even in the early rays of morning sun, the ribbons of the Aurora Constellate were still ever-so-faintly visible.


    When was the last time I was able to just watch the Constellate? I wondered absently, tracing the stretching path of one particular ribbon.


    The Aurora Constellate would be visible all across Dicathen for the next few days¨Cand somehow, I¡¯d entirely forgotten.


    It was that time I visited Art¡¯s family, I thought mournfully. The last time I ever watched the Constellate. Right before the attack on Xyrus Academy. Before everything changed.


    That brought up bad memories. The subtle calm I¡¯d built up from standing in the shade and drinking in the morning air all but evaporated as I remembered Xyrus.


    Where I¡¯d been powerless. Helpless to stop any of my friends and classmates from being cut down by Alacryan soldiers and corrupted mana beasts. Relegated to a damsel in distress, where someone else had to save me.


    My hands clenched at my sides as I imagined Caria, Stannard, and Darvus out there somewhere, fighting Alacryans and corrupted beasts. I knew they could handle themselves, and knew my teammates were among the best Dicathen could offer. But as the remembered scent of smoke tickled my nose¨Cthe only thing I could recall from the entirety of the Xyrus Academy attack¨CI couldn¡¯t help but imagine the bodies of my friends being reported to me.


    I couldn¡¯t even visualize their fall in battle. Couldn¡¯t even conceive it¨Cbecause that was how deaths were always reported to the ¡°Princess of Elenoir.¡± Theodore, Doradrea, and dozens more students and friends I¡¯d known personally had died around me at Xyrus, and I could do nothing. So the only image I could conjure in my mind¡¯s eye was a reluctant servant delivering a sealed letter, the names of those I cared for scribbled haphazardly inside.


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    I can¡¯t stay here, I realized. I¡¯ll go mad. I can¡¯t just let them all fight for this continent without me, die for this continent without me!


    But even as a plan solidified in my mind, I realized that I didn¡¯t have a way out of this. The mages watching me were far too powerful to escape from with normal methods. Anything I did would draw attention, and if I wanted to leave undetected, I could only hope to do so through subterfuge.


    My lips pulled into a thin line as I stood there, contemplating the best way to escape the palace. The north exit was likely the most scrutinized, so that was a no-go. Most people would recognize me if I tried to blend in normally, but¨C


    My thoughts slowed to a crawl as a presence within me shifted, spreading outward like creeping moss. I looked inward, feeling surprised for the second time that day as my Elderwood Guardian Will subtly pressed on the edges of my core. It couldn¡¯t convey much, but I could tell it wanted to be pulled to the surface.


    The presence shifted slightly, and I thought I could feel annoyance. Or maybe amusement?


    ¡°What was it I thought,¡± I whispered, just under my breath, ¡°that made you upset?¡±


    Nothing more. I furrowed my brow, feeling the pulsing insistence. It didn¡¯t feel malevolent: not like it had when I¡¯d first been working through my assimilation. Yet still, I hesitated for a moment, thinking of that dark power Spellsong had extracted from my core. Phantom pain surged through my sternum at the memory, making me shift nervously in the grass.


    It couldn¡¯t hurt me, I was sure, but¨C


    That annoyance again. And the reason it¨C


    Again.


    I felt my eyes widen in realization as I finally pinpointed what thoughts were causing such a reaction in my Beast Will.


    ¡°You¡¯re not an ¡®it¡¯ at all, are you?¡± I said quietly, my attention inward. ¡°You¡¯re a¡­ she?¡± S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A happy response¨Clike the blooming of a flower after a season of rain¨Cspread from my core. I¡¯d have to take that as a yes.


    I didn¡¯t know why, but that last realization cemented what I was going to do next. With a deep breath, I engaged the First Phase of my Beast Will, welcoming those stretching vines of energy as they spread across my mana channels.


    Almost immediately, I felt the difference. An aura of purest emerald shimmered around me, and I felt like I could sense every plant in a fifty-meter radius. But I gasped at the awareness that spread through me.


    The elves of Elenoir were uniquely gifted with the ability to peer through the unnatural mist of the Elshire Forest without obstruction, something that was beyond valuable in our ability to maintain our borders against the Alacryans and humans that plagued us of age.


    But now, as the mist swirled and twisted, it was almost as if the ethereal vapor was an extension of myself. Everywhere I looked, it felt like I could see farther, hear more distinctly, feel more acutely.


    I gasped in awe as these new sensations poked at the edges of my mind. My ears twitched as a junebug¡ªnearly at the very end of the gardens¨Cshifted on a blade of grass. And despite making practically no sound, I still could hear it.


    This is what you wanted to show me, I thought in amazement, the Aurora Constellate suddenly crystal clear far above, isn¡¯t it?


    My Elderwood Guardian Will could only give me vague impressions, but I got the sense she was pleased.


    But already, I could feel my protectors¡ªor more accurately, my prison guards¡ªrushing toward me, no doubt sensing my activation of my Beast Will. Slight panic rose in my stomach, but that was quickly squashed by a flood of determination.


    I reached out my hands, acting on the instincts provided through my Beast Will, and the mist shifted. It twisted and swirled, spinning around me like a cocoon. The touch of the vapor was soft and cool as it enveloped my body, making the silver frills of my dark green dress flare as my hair slowly fanned out.


    I watched as my hidden protectors finally emerged from their hiding spots, their mana rampant as they stared at me. I recognized one, at least: Albold Chaffer.


    And then I was covered in fog. The elven guards cried out in alarm as I was entirely subsumed by twisting mist, and I realized with a start that they couldn¡¯t see through it.


    I restrained a laugh as I slowly backed away, the large dome of swirling mist expanding in ripples as I edged toward the corners of the gardens. The guards stared, utterly perplexed by the wall of water vapor blocking their way.


    Except for one. Albold Chaffer¡ªcurse his family¡¯s keen senses¡ªhad furrowed brows. His eyes slowly, slowly tracked closer to me, and I realized that even with the presence-obscuring effects of this new power from my altered Beast Will, I still wasn¡¯t entirely in the clear.


    I cursed silently, conjuring a few vines around me to hoist me atop the courtyard walls. Yet instead of darting into the streets of Zestier, I surged toward the closest Elshire Oak. With the ease of years of practice, I bounded up the solemn grandfather of a tree, using my vines to anchor myself as I ran nearly at a ninety-degree angle.


    Soon enough, I was lounging near the canopy of the tree. There were plenty of scouts up in these leaves watching for trouble, but I was certain none had the senses of the Chaffer man far below. With my newly expanded ability to sense things in the mist, I could see the annoying young elf¡¯s brows furrowed in confusion¨Cevidently losing my trail.


    Mist still swirled around me, blanketing me from the probing eyes and ears of anyone peering in my direction. A tension I¡¯d been carrying for a week unwound around my shoulders as I breathed in deeply, feeling free for the first time in a long time. The mist seemed to edge closer as I inhaled, then sighed its own breath of relief as I slumped in the tree.


    Arthur mentioned something about facing mists when he fought the Elderwood Guardian, I thought as I gradually pulled myself back together, but I never had that power before. I¡¯m a wind and plant attribute mage, so I neve could influence water attribute mana like many of my kind¨Cbut now¡­


    My Beast Will didn¡¯t outright respond, but I hoped she could feel how grateful I was for this ability. I watched my protectors scurry about like ants, shouts of alarm and calls echoing out as they tried to organize a search party.


    I snorted in amusement, before stretching out my back. I¡¯d be long gone by the time they even thought to search the canopies.


    I turned on the branch, preparing to dart further into the forest and make my way to a teleportation gate. I was grateful the green dress I¡¯d picked out had mobility in mind, or else I wouldn¡¯t be able to¨C


    ¡°A neat trick,¡± a sultry voice said from nearby. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen the mist obey someone like that, almost with a life of its own.¡±


    I froze in my tracks, a shiver running down my spine as if I were caught in the jaws of a predator. I turned slowly, my focus narrowing onto a sole figure.


    Aya Grephin lounged on a branch nearby, looking painfully nonchalant. She swung her legs in a way that almost seemed coquettish as she observed me with startlingly dark eyes, a hint of a smirk on her lips.


    The elven Lance¡¯s eyes darted back down to the Gardens below. ¡°Smart of you to bolt for the high ground. Chaffer won¡¯t be able to follow so easily, especially with the mist weaving around you like that. Not so smart of you was trying to escape in the first place, Princess.¡±


    On instinct, I assumed the tall and stately posture I normally assumed whenever in the presence of foreign dignitaries. ¡°Lance Aya,¡± I said in a clipped tone, my nerves returning in full force, ¡°What are your orders right now?¡±


    Aya raised a pristine black brow. ¡±I¡¯ve been tasked with watching over a certain elven princess. I was told that she might be a flight risk, and that having an extra eye on her would be imperative.¡±


    And just like that, my dreams of freedom evaporated. Because if Lance Phantasm had been explicitly ordered to watch over me, then I had no chance of escape and no chance of ordering her elsewhere.


    Because only the former king and queen of Elenoir could so blatantly order their Lance. And no matter how much I wanted, their authority would always supersede mine.


    My Beast Will slowly retreated back into my core as I turned away from the Lance, feeling my face burn in quiet humiliation. ¡°Are you going to drag me back down?¡± I asked, hoping I didn¡¯t sound like a child. ¡°For punishment? For trying to flee the grounds?¡±


    Aya¡¯s lopsided smirk vanished as she stared at me. ¡°Why would I take you in, Princess? You¡¯re simply enjoying the feeling of the trees. No need to sound an alarm or call the Council.¡±


    My ears perked up as I looked at Aya with renewed hope. If she was about to let me off for¨C


    ¡°But if you were to prance off anywhere else, then I might just have to send a communication scroll to Commander Virion,¡± she finished, once again smashing my hopes like an overripe fruit against a wall.


    My hands clenched at my sides as I felt my anger build up again. ¡°So that¡¯s how it is, then?¡± I snapped. ¡°We¡¯re two liabilities to be quarantined? One touch from Spellsong and suddenly we can¡¯t even leave our own home?¡±


    In that instant, I hated Toren Daen. He¡¯d supposedly healed me, supposedly cured me of a horrid corruption in my core. And in my heart of hearts, I knew this to be true¨Cthat all he¡¯d done was help me. But his actions caused me to be locked up like some puffed-up bird. To be treated like a useless child.


    And Aya Grephin was a Lance. She could be out in battle somewhere mowing down Alacryans and tearing out the hearts of mana beasts. Instead, she was here, watching over me.


    Aya¡¯s features hardened at the mention of Spellsong. ¡°I am doing my duty, Tessia Eralith. As should you.¡±


    I scoffed. ¡°And if my duty is just to rot in a pen?¡± I snapped, gesturing angrily toward the forest. ¡°People are dying out there! Elf, human, and dwarf alike die in droves trying to protect this continent! What sort of princess am I if I¡¯m not with them? How can I ever be worthy of my station if I¡¯ve simply never experienced the same as my subjects?!¡±


    I gnashed my teeth, pointing a finger at the elven Lance as tears blurred the edges of my vision. ¡°And now everything I learn tells me that even those sacrifices are beyond the point,¡± I said, my anger and confusion at the riddles Toren Daen had uttered to Sylvie and me rising to the surface. What was a Legacy? How did so many people know about this reincarnation of King Grey? And why was I always involved, but never allowed to truly know? ¡°I just want to¨C¡±


    My arm drooped as I slammed my eyes shut. ¡°I just want to make a difference, Aya.¡±


    Like Art. Like Grandpa. Like Father and Mother. Because if I could make a difference¡­ then maybe, just maybe, I¡¯d finally be worthy of them, too.


    The forest seemed silent in the wake of my painful proclamation. Down below, elves scrambled like ants as they darted about, calling orders and readying search parties.


    Aya¡¯s face was cold as stone¨Cbut for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of something painfully familiar streak across her features before it vanished.


    ¡°I have been a Lance since before you were born,¡± Aya said, her sultry and coquettish mannerisms slipping away. ¡°And there have been times when I¡¯ve questioned my duty. When I¡¯ve wondered if all I do satisfies the former King and Queen.¡±


    I blinked, sniffling as I stared at Aya Grephin. I didn¡¯t actually know much of her past. In fact, I hadn¡¯t even known she existed until a bare bit before she was revealed to the world in the Lance¡¯s Ceremony several years ago.


    ¡°But I have learned that asking such questions is pointless. All I can do is follow the orders I am given and do as I am told; because I trust those above me in their decisions. And you seem to think that the only way you can serve this continent is with your blade.¡±


    The elven Lance shifted her attention to the palace far below us, swirling and swarming with activity. ¡°All the citizens of this country are fighting in their own way. The farmers set aside their surplus for our soldiers. The hunters sacrifice what they can of their kills. The papermakers and fletchers and leatherworkers and every part of this kingdom is working towards driving back the Alacryans. If you think the only way you can help is by fighting, what does that mean for everyone who helps without doing so?¡±


    A long silence stretched between us as her words settled in. Each word of her scolding slammed into me like hammers in the forges as they all rang true. I turned my head away, feeling my face flush further in humiliation and embarrassment. No doubt my childish outburst had soured Aya¡¯s mood even more.


    The dark-haired beauty eventually sighed, her eyes softening slightly around the edges. ¡°I can¡¯t let you just vanish into the forest. Not when the enemy might be targeting you. But¡­ But there is something I can do.¡±


    I gave the Lance a skeptical look, but she only shrugged, a bit of her playful aura returning. ¡°That mist thing you did: have you ever practiced in its use?¡±


    I reluctantly shook my head. There wasn¡¯t much of a point lying to Aya. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± I admitted with a sigh. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know it was possible until a few minutes ago.¡±


    Aya smiled slightly. ¡°If you want to do something worthwhile, then there¡¯s nothing better you can do than improve in strength. My own mists are simply an imitation of Elshire¡¯s: a good imitation, true, but still an imitation. But it seems that you can influence the pervading mist itself as if it''s your own.¡±


    My thoughts drifted inward at the Lance¡¯s words, my attention shifting to my unnaturally light Beast Will. I thought of the strange changes in its presence; how it seemed to react and coil about my mind. Its desire to help me¨Cthough I wasn¡¯t certain she knew what help was.


    What are you, exactly? I found myself wondering as I inspected the mote of emerald green power nestled in my core. I¡¯d never heard of the mists obscuring an elf¡¯s senses, yet somehow they had¨Csimply to cover me from the sight of people I wanted to hide from.


    In the heat of the moment, I hadn¡¯t realized what kind of implications that carried. For a bare moment, the Forest of Elshire had turned on her children. The same Forest that had impassively shielded us for centuries upon centuries at least, giving no other race solace but us.


    Because of me, centuries of precedent had just been upturned.


    My eyes must have been wide as moons as I stared at Aya. The Lance simply smirked. ¡°That isn¡¯t a very princesslike expression on your face, Princess,¡± she said playfully, standing up and hovering in the air. ¡°Instead of catching thornflies in that gaping mouth, why don¡¯t you get down to practicing?¡±

 Chapter 227: Back Home

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Sevren Denoir


    The thing screamed. It was hard to describe the sound it made as it stamped its near-endless feet. Like a dozen steam engines smashed together, maybe?


    Still, the massive millipede was making my life difficult. Its serrated mandibles, translucent hide, and strange flexibility had turned what should have been a routine ascent into a death trap. When we¡¯d arrived in this zone, Caera and Naereni had been content to just leave. I had, too: until my reforged aether compass had picked up absurd concentrations in the central mound of the jungle.


    But the countless piles of aether crystals had a guardian. One that looked like something forged in the depths of Taegrin Caelum itself.


    I blurred backward, slashing outward with my blade arm as I used Dictate of Mass with perfect precision. The bronze soulmetal lightened in color as the effect took it, and my arm moved at speeds that would have seen me crippled before. Then, in the instant before impact, I inverted the effect.


    The soulmetal turned dark as its mass redoubled, but it was still going at an absurd speed. With impossible momentum, the edge of my blade slammed into the creature¡¯s leg. The purplish aetheric barrier around its body shimmered, then melted away as my sword arm cut right through with the force of a guillotine.


    I would have never been able to do that before, I thought with silent relish, feeling mana as it thrummed over my veins. My teal cloak whipped as I moved, already preparing for the creature¡¯s counterattack. All because of Toren¡¯s aether arts.


    The massive leg¨Ceasily twice my height¨Cfell to the ground as purplish-red blood spurted from the stump. The massive millipede screamed, whirling on me as it tried to stamp me into a fine paste with its spear-like legs. Its mandibles clicked and whirred as it made that steam engine noise. It had no eyes to glare at me, but I could feel its hatred.


    But I had already acted, expecting this chain of events. I moved my metal arm to the side, aiming for the nearest cavern wall, then flexed.


    The blade atop my wrist ejected with the force of a bullet, trailing hairavant wire as it sank into the faraway stone. And with a simple tug, I was already flying up and away, out of the creature¡¯s reach in a blur. As I was pulled away, I took the chance to aim the gun in my left hand. Time seemed to slow as I lined up my shot, the edge of the bronze barrel glinting in the low light.


    Then I pulled the trigger, three times in quick succession. Three gunshots echoed as the buster rounds punched small holes in the creature¡¯s body, each leaking a slow stream of blood.


    Unfortunately, my attacks did little more than annoy the beast. It screamed in rage, fully intent on chasing me up the walls of the cavern. Still, I felt a subtle smirk stretch on my face as the beast forgot the true threat.


    Caera¡¯s red blade swung, a gale of violent soulfire slamming into the creature¡¯s side. The decay-aspected flame fought the creature¡¯s aether barrier for a time, before finally breaking through and opening wounds along its long, plated body.


    The cavern rumbled as the aether beast twisted about with impossible speed, mashing more aether crystals beneath its feet as it tried to gore my sister. It screeched in rage, pitching a tantrum as it tried to catch her with its mandibles. She raised her soulfire-coated blade in a defensive maneuver, bracing against those scythes of chitin. Around her raised mask, her navy hair flared.


    The creature still pushed forward, my sister¡¯s back inching at speed toward an erupting spike of aetheric crystal. Those pincers snapped and bit as she held it away from her head.


    ¡°Any time now, Rat!¡± I yelled, feeling sweat on my skin as I disengaged from the wall. I checked my ammo. Ten buster rounds left.


    ¡°Always coming to me for help, Douboir!¡± a cheerful voice echoed. ¡°You should learn to figure things out yourself sometimes!¡±


    A subtle glyph near the base of the millipede¡¯s neck flashed with dark power, and then a dozen black chains of graveice surged from the rune. They clinked and hissed as they raced backward, absorbing the light as they reached the roof of the cavern. And though I could not see it, I knew they¡¯d lashed themselves to a dagger of basilisk-tinted ice.


    The thing lurched, screaming as those chains tightened like a leash. Its head rose into the air as its momentum worked against it, Naereni¡¯s bindings tying the top of its skull to the ceiling. It thrashed, screaming in fury as it tried to escape. The bindings cracked.


    Naereni raced down along the chains, her balance supernatural as her short, dark braid whipped. A manic grin was plastered on her features as her Rat halfmask covered the top of her face. Even as the creature thrashed, pulling at the graveice chains and pushing them closer and closer to breaking, she only laughed in glee. ¡°I imbued nearly all my mana into that spell!¡± she said cheerily. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work, Kitty-cat, you¡¯re fucked!¡±


    Caera jumped upward, landing on the beast¡¯s head where the glyph shone. The red sword came stabbing down into the thrashing monster¡¯s head, ensuring she wouldn¡¯t be thrown off. She glared at Naereni for the nickname as a hand covered in soulfire pressed against the glyph.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, Whiskers,¡± my sister bit back. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of rats that get eaten by bugs!¡±


    Naereni dropped to the back of the millipede, driving a graveice dagger between the thin plates of its chitin. ¡°But how much more embarrassing would it be for Miss Boulders to get digested? That just means I¡¯ve got an excuse!¡±


    I slid forward, taking note of this all as I imbued mana into my dimensional storage. A single cartridge automatically loaded itself into the slot on my arm with a resounding clunk as I ran toward our pre-planned destination. I felt it in a strange way as the shell settled into place.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready!¡± I called, stashing my gun back in my dimensional storage. ¡°Just give me my opening!¡± I met Caera¡¯s ruby eyes from where she held to the creature¡¯s thrashing head, her hand still pressed over the glyph.


    And with a flex of her mana, my sister imbued her decay-attribute fire into the rune, and the chains changed. Black hellfire raced along the dark ice, meshing and sinking into it. The chains from high above detached as this spell merger created something entirely new, the contrasting affinities meshing together in an entirely unique creation.


    Black frostfire chains as wide as tree trunks dipped and weaved about the suddenly freed aether beast, tying it in on itself as they looped back toward Naereni. Every place those merged deviants touched burned and froze in equal measure, creating a flash-freeze effect that made the chains sink deep into its flesh.


    And when they finally reached the dagger Naereni had driven into the beast¡¯s rear, they cinched shut.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hold this for long,¡± my sister grunted, sweat atop her face as she funneled more and more mana into the spell. ¡°Finish it quickly, Sevren!¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± Naereni countered, though she looked even more tired. ¡°I can do this all day!¡±


    I skidded to a halt in front of the creature¡¯s enormous head. Though the thing had been bound, it still thrashed and fought. Those serrated pincers nearly took off my head as they snapped shut, a whoosh of displaced air echoing above me.


    I gritted my teeth, my eyes flashing as I stared into the beast¡¯s unending translucent gullet. I raised my soulmetal arm, bracing as I engaged Dictate of Mass to increase the weight of my body. Within my arm, I ensured that the bullet¡¯s mass was momentarily lesser.


    Lightning crackled around me as I engaged my mental trigger, my hand folding backward over my wrist. Soon, the barrel of my cannon arm was revealed as I aimed down the beast¡¯s maw. An electric yellow glow burned from between the plates of my metal muscles, reflecting off the purplish glass of the creature¡¯s throat. The metal hummed as the scent of ozone tickled my nose.


    ¡°I just upgraded the firing mechanism of my arm with some slight gravity artifacts,¡± I said, wondering if the creature could understand me. Even though that mouth could swallow me whole, a predatory grin stretched across my face. ¡°I hope there¡¯s enough of you left to examine so I can quantify the difference in power.¡±


    And then the shell in my hand accelerated through the path provided. The entire cavern rumbled with a catastrophic boom as I flew backward, smashing through a pile of aether crystals from the blowback. Then I hit the ground, rolling for a bit before I came to a stop.


    My head rang, the sound reverberating through my skull and making stars race across my vision. I blinked blearily as I stared up at the rocky ceiling, trying to center myself.


    Power output¡­ increased by twenty-five percent at minimum,


    I thought, feeling hazy. My body ached from the whiplash. Especially effective with solid ballistic rounds.


    ¡°Experiments needed for hollow points or burst shells,¡± I mumbled, my vision swimming. ¡°Otherwise¡­ success.¡±


    A familiar head of navy hair blocked out my wonderful view of the ceiling. Caera was leaning over me, crossing her arms as she looked at me with something between disappointment and appreciation. Her Cat halfmask rested against her forehead, allowing me to see her wrinkled brows.


    ¡°You almost broke my sword,¡± she grumbled. ¡°That was a gift from Scythe Seris.¡±


    I groaned, pushing myself up. Steam rose from the plates of my right arm. ¡±I would¡¯ve made you a better one,¡± I offered with a slight frown. ¡°Basilisk blood weapons are great, but soulmetal is a more universal base for all artificing.¡±


    I turned back to where the millipede was. Or more accurately, where it used to be. Its entire head was an unrecognizable mess. Splatters of shattered chitin lay in a ruined slop around it, red-purple blood pumping from what was left. A massive wound near its midpoint showed where the artillery shell had exited. A few of its legs twitched slightly in death throes.


    Insects often have a decentralized nervous system, I thought warily, conjuring my soulmetal pistol from the dimensional storage embedded in my right arm. I should make sure.


    I fired a few more buster shots into its skull. It didn¡¯t react.


    Dead, then.


    Naereni whooped with glee, kicking the aether beast¡¯s corpse. ¡°Take that, you big ugly lug!¡± she said, standing like a champion at one of Victorious¡¯ gladiator fights over their contestant¡¯s corpse.


    ¡°Your idea about decaying frostfire actually worked,¡± Caera said thoughtfully, resting her large ruby blade over her shoulder as she surveyed the frostfire wounds on the thing¡¯s carapace. ¡°You know, I¡¯m not one to doubt you usually, but that wasn¡¯t something I expected.¡±


    I nodded slowly. I¡¯d suggested the idea after using the asura¡¯s strange goggles to hone in on the decay deviants of both women, seeing how they flowed in and about each other. I¡¯d theorized that with a shift in frequency and alignment, they could probably make a merger.


    It had taken a lot of practice and promises, but these two Vritra-blooded mages had managed to mesh their mana to make a never-before-seen discovery with their deviant magics. I was already trying to think of ways to apply this to their abilities in and outside of combat.


    Naereni took that moment to stride over. The black-haired Striker wiped a bit of blood from her dark leather clothes, giving me a genuine smile. ¡°Damn smart thinking, Douboir,¡± she complimented, raising a fist for me to bump. ¡°I thought Boulders here would mess it up somehow, but our mana actually did synergize.¡±


    I glanced at the offered fist, then opted to observe the cavern. It was rich in resources and loot that made this ascent worthwhile a dozen times over but mainly, my eyes focused on those aether crystals.


    ¡°You could at least play along,¡± Naereni complained, lowering her hand. ¡°Toren always did. It was a game for him to try and keep his cufflinks away from me, but you won¡¯t play at all.¡±


    ¡°Well, my brother recognizes that he has better things to do than engage with your pointless games,¡± Caera countered, smirking at the thief by trade. ¡°Unlike you, he¡¯s above such pettiness. Our blood is far, far too pure to warrant such foolishness.¡±


    ¡°Funny you should say that, Boulders,¡± the young woman replied, her red eyes glinting mischievously. ¡°Since it¡¯s taken you so long to notice, I¡¯ll just spare you the despair. I already replaced all of your coins back in our hovel.¡±


    Caera opened her mouth in surprise, uncertainty, and accusation. Her face went red all the way to her ears in disgruntlement¨Csomething the Rat noticed as well. ¡°Damn it, twitter-fingers!¡± she snapped. ¡°If you nabbed my allowance from the Denoirs again I am going to stuff your sleeping bag full of that lavender bath soap you hate so much!¡±


    Where did my kind, dutiful sister go? I lamented internally. Who is this brute who dumps alchemical agents down her teammate¡¯s sleeping bag?


    Ever since Caera had started hanging out with Naereni, things had gone from bad to worse. My sister, apparently, suppressed strong criminal tendencies, which the Rat took every opportunity to try and draw out. It was only my ration and reason that kept her from trying to rob one of the Supervisory Centers with that devil in a Rat¡¯s mask. And when Naereni wasn¡¯t trying to tempt Caera into doing utterly stupid heists, they were squabbling like shintcats.


    I¡¯d tried to stop these two once. That had only united them against me, so now I left them to their squabbling. Most of the time.


    ¡°Enough of that for now,¡± I cut in wearily before Naereni could counter again. ¡°We need to do clean-up tasks before we head on to the next zone. I¡¯m going to see about getting as much of this millipede¡¯s blood as I can.¡±


    Depending on the blood I sank the soulmetal into, I could increase the rate I grew their reserves. I suspected it had something to do with how prominently the lifeforce lingered after death.


    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve seen a Named Blood man grow a lot of plants for a hobby once,¡± Naereni said, her eyes darting towards a pocket of the cave that held a few remaining artifacts and ascender¡¯s garb. ¡°I think growing metal is a bit weird in comparison. You shoulda just stuck with growing wood. Less weird.¡±


    Don¡¯t give into it, I repeated to myself, striding away. Be the mature one, Sevren. Be the mature one.


    ¡°Considering we laid down a tether the moment we entered this zone, we¡¯ll be able to return for the crystals we can¡¯t bring back this time,¡± I said, ignoring Naereni¡¯s comment. ¡°Our dimension rings aren¡¯t big enough for all of this, so it¡¯ll probably take a few trips.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The next hour or so consisted of routine cleanup in the wake of a victory. I collected as much of the millipede¡¯s blood as I could in small vats that held a few gallons, before stashing as many of the crystals away in my dimension ring as I could.


    I adjusted the goggles where they rested on my forehead, deliberately avoiding thoughts about who had given them to me. What had given them to me.


    I¡¯d made absurd bounds in progress with my manatech just from a few cursory uses of these flow goggles. Their ability to hone in on the flow of any ambient mana particle and focus their frequency was a boon for my crafting. They were too finicky for combat, unfortunately, but once I started using them, I¡¯d never looked back.


    I adjusted my cloak, the comforting teal banishing thoughts of what had happened so far south of Fiachra after that day. Naereni¡¯s lover had used his Sentry abilities to go scouting the aftermath once the earthquakes had stopped. I didn¡¯t want to think about that too much.


    I remembered Toren¡¯s words from long ago, shivering slightly. Wraiths existed.


    I slowly walked over to where my sister and Naereni were both sorting through items in an out-of-the-way cave a ways away. They were observing a few large crystals of milky purple, each of them with a different look on their faces.


    ¡°You look upset, Naereni,¡± I said, my eyes noting the four milky eggs in this birthing bed. ¡°I thought you¡¯d enjoy stealing these.¡±


    The Rat, surprisingly, bit her lip as she averted her gaze. ¡°Stealing¡¯s fine and all. But stealing from the dead, well¡­ Thieving¡¯s only fun because you can fail, right? But these people won¡¯t ever be able to stop me.¡±


    I looked at the aether crystals, recognizing what she meant. The gear and loot glimmering in the center of each of these rocks had probably belonged to ascenders that hadn¡¯t escaped the millipede¡¯s gullet.


    That would be a lonely way to die, I thought, staring at a crystal that contained a glimmering spear emblazoned with runes. All that is left of you encased in millipede excrement. Just your clothes and weapons.


    I was reminded uncomfortably of how I¡¯d locked myself away in the Town Zone for a time. In the outside world, it couldn¡¯t have been more than a couple weeks. But within the time-distorting effects of the Relictombs, it had been months.


    Would some ascender have eventually come across my bones one day, if Toren had never pulled me out of that pit?


    I wondered. Would Caera have mourned for me?


    Would Lenora have mourned for me?


    ¡°Say, Whiskers,¡± Caera said, poking at her friend with a finger as she looked sullenly at the defeated remains. ¡°Tell me again which bath bomb you hate the most. I¡¯ll make sure to get a dozen of them for you when we get back.¡±


    It was obvious bait to pull the young thief away from her dark musings, but as always, it worked. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Moose,¡± she said, a bit of her humor returning. ¡°I¡¯ll have to spend all your liberated coin if you do anything.¡±


    I never wanted to have a mask or anything as part of this group, but Naereni had insisted. She¡¯d roped Caera in first with the idea of the ¡®Menagerie.¡¯ But the animal that Naereni had first bestowed upon Caera had been a moose. Because of her horns.


    And Caera hated it.


    She narrowed her eyes back at Naereni. ¡°Moldy cheese it is, then. Bath bombs are too good for you, twitter-fingers.¡±


    Naereni snorted, sauntering away with an exaggerated sway in her hips. ¡°Okay then, Mouse. We¡¯ll see if you ever manage to catch me sleeping again.¡±


    That had been the second suggestion after Caera¡¯s refusal. Mouse. Caera had finally decided to be the Cat. Because¡ªas she¡¯d once said to me in a near rage¡ªcats ate rats.


    My adoptive sister gave an exasperated sigh as she watched Naereni go. ¡°I¡¯ll catch you sleeping,¡± she grumbled. Then she turned her eyes to me, raising a navy brow. ¡°What? Just gonna stay silent, Douboir?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work when you say it,¡± I said dryly, walking forward to look at the millipede¡¯s eggs. ¡°We have the same last name.¡±


    Caera sighed, shaking her head. ¡°You have no idea how much work it is managing you two.¡±


    ¡°You, manage us?¡± I replied, turning back to her with an incredulous expression. ¡°If I didn¡¯t pull you two away from each other, you two would¡¯ve invented weapons fit to pull the Sovereigns from their thrones, and only used them on each other!¡±


    Caera walked over to me, rolling her eyes as she observed the same crystal. She patted me lightly on the back. ¡°Whatever you say, Douboir.¡±


    ¡ª


    It didn¡¯t take long to reach the Second Layer of the Relictombs. I made sure to stash every spare aether crystal in the Town Zone before we left, and I¡¯d also convinced Naereni to return Caera¡¯s coins to her before we finally descended.


    Now, Naereni trailed after us as Caera and I slowly made our way back to the Denoir Relictombs Estate. Internally, I dreaded another chilly confrontation with my mother.


    After the revelations of how highblood society could be influenced in the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion, I¡¯d started more actively engaging in politics and being part of Highblood Denoir. It had caused tensions in the family to strain further.


    I wasn¡¯t the direct heir to the Highblood anymore, for starters. My father and Lenora had deemed my constant ascents too risky¨Cdespite the surge of wealth, accolades, and glory Caera and I brought to our blood¨Cand nominated Lauden instead.


    I didn¡¯t care. With the level of profit and glory each and every one of the Menagerie¡¯s ascents brought, Highblood Denoir couldn¡¯t afford to keep Caera and me away from the Relictombs, or exile us entirely.


    I turned back to Naereni as she loped after us, a strange sort of tightness in her shoulders. We were in the well and truly rich parts of the Relictombs. The estates were bigger than many out in the countryside, and the level of magic humming in the air was enough to make any mage¡¯s hair stand on end. Everywhere you looked, flags with the symbols of powerful highbloods glowed starkly.


    The thief never usually followed us this far when our ascents ended. I knew the young woman had stolen from noble bloods in Fiachra before the Incursion, but it seemed like the sheer magnitude of the wealth on display intimidated her in a surprising way. Her fingers twitched as her head darted this way and that, but it wasn¡¯t the normal way whenever she thought she could steal something.


    ¡°What are you so nervous about, Whiskers?¡± Caera asked, noticing the young woman¡¯s anxiety. ¡°Cat got your tongue?¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Boulders,¡± Naereni replied, though there wasn¡¯t much heat in it. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ Wade is doing his training with Alaric right now, so I can¡¯t go back there with him yet. I don¡¯t really like Alaric.¡±


    I stopped in my walk, surprised by this. ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one who dragged him into this ¡®Menagerie¡¯ thing in the first place? Why would you drag the drunken bastard in if you didn¡¯t like him?¡±


    ¡°Toren recommended him,¡± Naereni admitted with a sigh. ¡°He said that Alaric was rough around the edges, but he had really good knowledge about all this,¡± she said, gesturing vaguely to us.


    ¡°He pretends to be an oaf, but he really does, though,¡± Caera replied after a moment. ¡°Our resident Badger must have been a professional spy or insurgent at one point for all that he¡¯s teaching Wade. I¡¯ve heard a little bit about it. What¡¯s there to dislike about him?¡±


    Naereni growled, her hackles rising. ¡°I don¡¯t dislike him, alright?¡± she snapped. ¡°I just don¡¯t like watching him drink. That¡¯s all. And Wade gives him booze in exchange for Sentry and information training.¡±


    Our walk was silent for a time after that as we all separately digested that information. Naereni had told us once in confidence during an ascent that her father had died to a blithe overdose. She¡¯d gone out of her way to rid Fiachra of their blithe epidemic, and more than once our Menagerie¨Cme, Caera, Naereni, Wade, and Alaric, too¨Chad targeted and destroyed remaining blithe distributors across Alacrya.


    It¡¯s the same thing, in a way, I realized. Alaric drowns out the real world with his binge drinking, just like other addicts do.


    ¡°But Wade and he get along,¡± Naereni said, crossing her arms and looking away. ¡°Wade¡¯s learning a lot from him. Really being the Owl he¡¯s supposed to be and all, so I can¡¯t really say anything.¡±


    She kicked a pebble down the road. A carriage rumbled over it a moment later, passing us by.


    I sighed sufferingly. ¡°I suppose we can postpone going back to our estate for a time,¡± I allowed, trying not to sound too grumpy. I didn¡¯t like being out and about in the open. That was Toren¡¯s thing, not mine. ¡°We¡¯ll get you something to cheer you up.¡±


    Naereni looked at me with so many sparkles in her eyes that I winced from the glare. ¡°I knew you cared, Douboir,¡± she said happily.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± I sighed, turning back around. Where was that cafe that Renea had taken Toren and me to? That would probably be good. ¡°Just don¡¯t steal the menus.¡±


    ¡ª


    It took longer than I expected to find the cafe. Not as long to place our order. But even longer to receive it. In the end, we sat around a table with our items, a young woman delivering our food.


    ¡°Is there anything else we can get for you?¡± she asked, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear as she looked at me. ¡°Is the food all to your liking?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you,¡± I said brusquely, turning away from the server to inspect our food. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything out of order.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you see anything wrong, just give me a call, okay?¡± the woman said, leaning a bit closer. She chanced a glance at Naereni and Caera across from me, and I thought she might¡¯ve glared at them.


    ¡°I will,¡± I grunted, preparing myself to eat.


    The server¡¯s face fell slightly. Had she seen something off with our food? She left a bit quickly afterward, so even as I grabbed a fork to spear a crepe, I silently wondered.


    But the attention of Naereni¡¯s incredulous gaze forced me to look away from my food. ¡°What?¡±


    Her ruby eyes flicked to where the maid had gone, then back to me. ¡°Did you really just¨C¡±


    Caera laid a suffering hand on Naereni¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t, twitter-fingers. It¡¯s a lost cause.¡± The two shared a look full of meaning that for some reason made my insides curl.


    ¡°What?¡± I asked again, feeling more grumpy. ¡°What did I miss? Is it something with the food?¡±


    Caera rolled her eyes in a way that reminded me distinctly of Lenora. ¡°Sevren, our server was practically fucking you with her eyes,¡± she sighed. ¡°I swear, the only person I¡¯ve seen worse at picking up hints is Corbett when I try and get authorization for these ascents.¡±


    I frowned, then speared my cr¨ºpe with the fork. My metal arm whirred slightly. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for romance. Too much to do and too much to make. I¡¯ve got no time for tramps.¡±


    It was Naereni¡¯s turn to lean forward on the table, her eyes gleaming. ¡°Never say never, Douboir,¡± she said conspiratorially. ¡°The last time I saw someone try and act all aloof and away from romance was Toren, and we all know how that turned out. Good ol¡¯ Miss Beaker got him in her clutches.¡±


    I blinked, confused by this. ¡°Miss Beaker? Do you mean Renea Shorn?¡±


    Naereni nodded swiftly. ¡°Yeah, her!¡± she said, snapping her fingers. ¡°She was always dancing around Toren and leading him on when they were in East Fiachra together, but I guess she finally got what she wanted. Ooooh, the tension between them was electric,¡± she added mischievously.


    It was Caera¡¯s turn to look a bit confused. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back as her navy brows wrinkled. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about Renea Shorn or whoever that is, but there are rumors going around Highblood Denoir that Scythe Seris took Spellsong as some sort of paramour. I didn¡¯t really pay them any mind, of course. Rumors like those always linger around people of power.¡±


    I tilted my head, trying to imagine my best friend being some sort of concubine to that dreadful Scythe. I couldn¡¯t see it. Renea Shorn? Maybe. Even if I disliked the woman for her machinations and scheming in sending him to get rid of Mardeth, I could see the looks they shared.


    ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right to deny those rumors,¡± Naereni whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward. Her eyes gleamed like a schoolchild spilling gossip as they darted left and right, ensuring nobody could hear us. Her tone lowered even further, and against my will, I found myself leaning in to listen alongside my adoptive sister. ¡°Wade¡¯s rats sometimes followed Toren about. Ya know, to make sure he didn¡¯t run amok with the wrong people. We¡¯ve always got his back, after all. But there were some times he¡¯d go into the Bloodstone Elixirs headquarters with Miss Beaker, and when he left in the middle of the night, his clothes were covered in cuts.¡±


    Naereni¡¯s teeth gleamed white like fangs as she grinned, and for the first time, I thought I caught a glimpse of the serpentine blood running through her veins. ¡°And after Toren went to war, Wade lost all trace of Miss Beaker. She¡¯s gone into seclusion with a broken heart, mourning for her lost love. That¡¯s the only explanation.¡±


    It seemed we¡¯d uncovered another strange trait of this Vritra-blooded thief. As she smiled dreamily, I realized with rising horror that she was a romantic.


    Caera scoffed, making my horror rise even further. ¡°I mean, if Scythe Seris did take Toren as some sort of consort, then what could Renea Shorn do about it except lock herself away and pout?¡± she countered. ¡°I¡¯m not saying that Toren didn¡¯t have a fling with Renea, but come on. I saw how sulky he was after he left our ball a few months ago. She absolutely rejected him there.¡±


    Vritra¡¯s Horns, I realized as the two continued to bicker about my best friend¡¯s love life. This is the worst possible outcome.


    Every single word they exchanged made some deep part of my soul curl up into a little ball, die, and then somehow die again. I looked between the two Vritra-blooded women, imagining that their horns were sprouting from their heads as they continued to gossip.


    ¡°What are you on about, Moose?¡± Naereni asked, genuinely confused. ¡°All this happened after the Plaguefire Incursion, not before it.¡±


    Ignore it, Sevren, I told myself, grumpily spearing a bit of my cr¨ºpe with my fork. Ignore it, and it will go away. Or it will get easier to deal with.


    That was how I finally decided to treat Renea Shorn whenever Toren got into his annoying flirtations with her. I¡¯d pretend she didn¡¯t have that infuriating, self-satisfied smile on her face as she looked at him. I¡¯d eventually worked up the nerve to do the same whenever Scythe Seris interrupted my talks with Caera.


    In retrospect, it had been easier to deal with Renea Shorn, simply because her smile had been the exact same¡­ as Scythe Seris¡¯¡­


    It all crashed into the forefront of my mind. Renea Shorn¡¯s insistence on recruiting Toren; her hatred of blithe. Her ability to confront Mardeth directly. Her power base in Sehz-Clar, where none checked her authority. Her willingness to shift Toren about on the board.


    Scythe Seris had given both Naereni and my sister cloaking artifacts, hadn¡¯t she? To hide both their horns and shift their features?


    My fork¡ªwhich had just been about to enter my mouth¡ªdropped with a resounding clatter to my plate. ¡°Sovereign¡¯s blood,¡± I muttered, suddenly feeling far from hungry.


    Toren said he was working on his saberwork with Scythe Seris, I thought in horror, connecting the dots between Naereni¡¯s depiction of him leaving Bloodstone Elixirs and how he¡¯d shown up before our ascents. When he was really¡­ with a Scythe¡­


    He¡¯d lied to me! He¡¯d never been practicing sword forms! S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Caera and Naereni were both staring at me with curiosity, but I didn¡¯t say anything for a long moment. My sister chewed on some sort of fruit, while Naereni kept her hand behind her head. ¡°Spill the beans, Douboir,¡± Naereni demanded. ¡°Come on!¡±


    ¡°Renea Shorn probably had a necklace,¡± I groaned, propping my elbows onto the table and burying my face in my hands. My voice came out muffled and weak. ¡°Just like the ones you two have.¡±


    Naereni blinked, then cackled uproariously. Her barking laughter echoed all throughout the cafe as Caera choked on her food, her face turning red as she leaned over the table. My sister slammed a fist into her chest several times, trying to dislodge whatever had gotten stuck.


    There were only a couple patrons in the cafe, but they all glared at Naereni as her laughter interrupted everything. The waitstaff sent subtle glances our way, too, imploring us to be quiet.


    Caera finally managed to swallow her food, her face flushed. ¡°Then that means that the rumors¡­¡±


    ¡°Please stop talking about my best friend and his love life,¡± I finally begged, unable to bear this anymore. ¡°Anything else.¡±


    Naereni finally managed to settle down, but as she did so, there was a pinched expression behind her eyes. ¡°Say, Douboir,¡± she said, her eyes flicking about as she made sure we weren¡¯t being overheard, ¡°What¡­ Well, what exactly is up with him? He¡¯s trying to do something with this war. I know that. But¡­ Why did we have that intruder a couple weeks back? What exactly is Toren?¡±


    I stared down at my food, knowing that I wouldn¡¯t be eating any of it. Toren¡¯s words trickled through my mind.


    ¡°Nico¡¯s soul is from another world beyond this one. And alongside another like him, Agrona plans to use them both to draw something truly powerful to this dimension. The soul of a being with a capacity for perfect control over mana, enough that they could rip it from the asura themselves. With her, Agrona can truly end this war he has with Kezess Indrath. No more will he need the likes of Alacrya or Dicathen. Epheotus would be his only goal."


    It wasn¡¯t hard to put together. Toren had claimed to have visited the homeland of Scythe Nico, and alongside the strangeness of the Relictombs¡­


    Toren¨Cat least some part of him¨Cwas from another world beyond ours. Despite this, he sought to try and help ours with that bond of his. He sought to put down a Scythe.


    ¡°He¡¯s the key,¡± I said after a few seconds. ¡°He¡¯ll be what ends this unending war between Epheotus and Alacrya.¡±

 Chapter 228: Testing

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I hovered in the sky, taking deep breaths to center myself as my Acquire Phase burned against my skin. As a white core mage, my control and grasp of my Phoenix Will had improved drastically. While my First Phase strained my body very little as a silver core, now there was practically no noticeable decrease in mana reserves or taxing effects across my body.


    Yet as I slowly inched deeper and deeper into the burning furnace that was this nigh-infinite expanse of insight, a different kind of strain started to burden me.


    ¡°Careful, Toren,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice feathered across my mind as I worked to keep the power under control. ¡°This is the hard part. When you assimilated the insight of the Will before, you couldn¡¯t afford to dive this deep. But the perils are just as great as the rewards.¡±


    I quietly acknowledged my bond¡¯s words, using them as a centering focus. For the first time in months, I was undergoing mental assimilation once more with my Beast Will. My progress of improvement in mana manipulation and spellcraft had been nearly exponential due to the influence of this process back when I was a silver core, but there was a hard limit to what I could truly absorb. But with my innate understanding of organic magic as a white core mage, the last obstruction to assimilation was lifted.


    As the knowledge and understanding superimposed itself into my mind under the effect of this form, I imagined I was at the edges of a furnace, the heat scalding and barely contained. I needed to keep fueling the burning fire within, but if I poured too much energy in, the tongues of flame would surge outward, burning me, too.


    I felt sweat bead on my skin as I grasped at the metaphysical embers drifting from the fire, pulling them deeper and deeper into myself. Some of those embers went out, my knowledge too slim and my hold too weak. Others kindled even brighter as I grasped their true meaning, burning like tiny stars in my subconscious.


    Aurora¡¯s steady hand guided me through the process. I could feel her shade¡¯s touch on my shoulder as her intuitive understanding of this kept me along safer paths. Her watchful presence prevented me from putting too much energy into that bonfire, kept me from diving too deep. When there were paths that I could not yet comprehend, a subtle nudge from her in the right direction pushed me onward.


    ¡°You should rest for a time, my son,¡± the ancient phoenix said soothingly. ¡°One can only do so much at one time. You are still flesh and blood.¡±


    At my bond¡¯s words, I felt myself hesitate. I thought I could keep going; keep absorbing more and more insight. But I¡¯d also learned to trust what the shade had to say.


    Reluctantly, I edged back from the recesses of my Phoenix Will, and as I did so I felt a wave of mental fatigue wash over me. I blinked my eyes open in surprise, then immediately winced at the glare of the rising sun.


    Sweat beaded over my face, and I could notice a flushed tone to my skin as my eyes adjusted with abnormal speed to the glare of dawn. I exhaled a shuddering breath I hadn¡¯t known I¡¯d been repressing.


    ¡°Without the guiding hand of others, it is often easy to overwork oneself,¡± Lady Dawn said from my side as I gradually took stock of myself. ¡°Especially during assimilation. It is easy for you to get lost in the deluge of power.¡±


    I nodded slowly, feeling like my brain had been basking on a summer beach for a few hours too long. My thoughts were slow to form, each struggling to coalesce from the slurry my mind had unwittingly become.


    It¡¯s like any type of learning, I thought, using the dot of the rising sun as a focusing anchor. One can dive headfirst into knowledge and be quickly overwhelmed. It takes time and effort to truly cement what one is shown and taught.


    Right now, my mind was full, and I¡¯d need time to truly digest and assimilate all the insight I¡¯d gained. Yet when my consciousness meshed with that of the Will¡¯s, it became harder and harder to really notice the constraints of my physical body¨Cwhich was why I¡¯d nearly pushed past my limits.


    ¡°There¡¯s something about my Phoenix Will that influences my soul,¡± I said aloud as my thoughts finally realigned. I leaned backward in the air, my hand caressing my chin as I focused on this. ¡°I can¡¯t exactly put my finger on how, but there¡¯s some sort of overlap there. I can kind of¡­ sense it, for lack of a better word. Maybe it¡¯s because our bond is soul-deep and you once were connected to the Will. Or maybe it¡¯s just a facet of Beast Wills themselves.¡±


    To my surprise, Aurora¡¯s face took on a bit of a somber cast. ¡°It is true that you gained unique insight into the nature of the soul as you ascended to the white core,¡± she said, ¡°but on the topic of the Will and its deeper nature, I truly cannot say. This is beyond my realm of expertise.¡±


    I was surprised to sense the reluctance in Aurora¡¯s tone. I tilted my head, focusing on the asuran shade as her emotions receded slightly. ¡°Isn¡¯t the body and soul the specialty of the Asclepius Clan?¡± I asked, wondering what she meant.


    Aurora sighed, her star-burning eyes dimming slightly. The asura¡¯s deep red hair slowed in its Unseen shifting. ¡°While every phoenix learns the bare necessities required for their First Sculpting, most never proceed beyond that point. As you have learned, acquiring insight into the intricacies of aether is difficult, even with your entirely unique avenues of insight. But among the Elders of our clan, there tends to be a divergent path.¡±


    Aurora raised one palm upward as she stared at me seriously. ¡°That of the body,¡±


    she started, before lifting the other hand, ¡°and that of the soul.¡±


    I caught her meaning quickly. ¡°And your focus was on using heartfire in relation to the body; the Vessel,¡± I said, connecting the dots, ¡°but not the soul.¡±


    Aurora lowered her hands. ¡°Yes, my son,¡± she said sadly. ¡°I cannot help you in these endeavors. My brother would be a higher authority in these matters, yet I sense that even he may find himself adrift when it comes to your unique insight.¡±


    I felt my brows crease as that mote of sadness flowed over our soul bond again. I felt compelled to ask why, to question my ghost-like mother of the source of this quiet grief. But I sensed that to do so would be to prod at a wound Aurora was not ready to revisit.


    ¡°Speaking of phoenixes and all things asura,¡± I said into the cool spring breeze, trying to change the topic, ¡°the story that Barth told me of the Dragon and the Mountain: what did you think of it?¡±


    Aurora shifted in the air, crossing her arms in thought. Her martial robes began to blow again as an Unseen breeze caressed her once more. ¡°You were right to focus so intently on that story,¡± she started. ¡°The tale the Puppeteer weaved was an exact rendition of an old legend told to our youth when the time for their nightly rest draws near.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°So it was a fairy tale,¡± I said, feeling a bit amused.


    Aurora¡¯s expression became more severe. ¡°We do not have ¡®fairy tales,¡¯ my son, just legends with old iotas of truth,¡± she said assertively.


    A smile started to work its way across my face as I opened my mouth to respond, but I was cut off as I sensed a flash of mana and intent weaving up toward me.


    I¡¯d been lounging in the air rather casually before, and I didn¡¯t change that posture as I shifted to observe the incoming person. A thunderous pulse of dark heartfire blanketed my ears like a soft shadow.


    Seris drifted up to me, her lifeforce and intent unmasked to my senses. Unbidden, what I suspected could be called an ¡®idiotic grin¡¯ stretched across my face.


    ¡°Hey, Seris,¡± I said warmly, the mana around me conveying the fullness of the quiet passion I felt in my soul, ¡°here to enjoy the view? It¡¯s quite beautiful; the rising dawn and the last lingering motes of the Aurora Constellate. But you¡¯re forcing me to choose right now.¡±


    Seris smiled slightly in turn, chuckling at my rather overt implication. When she drifted up beside me, she took the opportunity to link her arm with mine as her onyx eyes traced the sunrise far in the east, its rays glinting off the ocean as if it were an expanse of many precious stones.


    ¡°As wondrous as this morning view is,¡± the Scythe said imperiously, her grip on my arm surprisingly strong, ¡°you did well in turning to the more attractive sight. I commend you on that, Toren. I would be displeased with you otherwise,¡± she said with utmost sincerity.


    I raised a brow as I looked at the petite Scythe at my side, watching how her silver hair blew in the sea breeze. ¡°That¡¯s a very arrogant thing to say, Seris,¡± I said, imbuing my voice with a helpful dose of skepticism.


    Seris laughed demurely, her arm tightening slightly on my own as she leaned closer the barest bit. We stayed there in the sky for a short time, observing the far-distant sun as it rose.


    ¡°I do find such views beautiful. And loathe as I am to say such, I rarely find¡­ beauty anymore,¡± she admitted quietly. ¡°I struggle not to see everything in shades of cold gray.¡± A pause. ¡°Can you sense that over my intent, Toren?¡± Seris asked¨Cand her tone was surprisingly fearful.


    I felt the urge to wrap my arms around the demure Scythe, simultaneously endeared and saddened by her uncertainty in the face of my abilities. Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact couldn¡¯t do much to restrain my sense of her intent. ¡°I can sense your hesitation,¡± I said quietly. ¡°A bit of your reluctance, your passion. But if I really, really try¡­¡±


    My lips pursed into a thin line as my words fell away, and I focused my attention on the horizon once more. Dawn had finally passed, and without the scintillating colors of light split by the clouds and atmosphere, the last remnants of the Aurora Constellate were far more visible.


    ¡°You can sense my fear,¡± Seris said, voicing what I was too uncomfortable to say. She sighed slightly as the conversation stilled, her face taking on a melancholy cast.


    ¡°That¡¯s a very human emotion,¡± I said into the stillness, sensing her shame as it rose. From the fact that I could sense her emotions or that she held them in the first place, I did not know.


    I¡¯d said those words before. I wasn¡¯t sure if she believed them then, or if she believed them now.


    Seris didn¡¯t respond, instead opting to watch the shores. She seemed to be deep in thought as the sunlight kissed her pale skin.


    ¡°I told you once,¡± she said after a moment, ¡°that sometimes I liked to imagine what was beyond the cliffs of Aedelgard. Create fantastical illusions within my mind of untouched lands and vast, unexplored reaches.¡±


    Seris observed me out of the side of her eye. ¡°Do you imagine your previous world when you stare out across these waters? A land of skyscrapers and human accomplishment?¡±


    I shifted in the air, genuinely surprised by the question. Yet it didn¡¯t take me long to respond. ¡°No, no I don¡¯t,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I¡¯ve made peace with the fact that I won¡¯t see my old world again. Sometimes, I allow myself to reminisce and mourn for what was lost, but this¡­ this life here? It¡¯s another turning of a cycle. Things grow, wither, and grow again. Like the repetition of spring. My time in this world is just another springtime.¡±


    Seris hummed contemplatively. ¡°Or another sunrise.¡±


    I smiled softly. ¡°Or another sunrise.¡±


    The Scythe hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as a slight blush worked up her cheeks. ¡°Tell me more about your world,¡± she finally said, her voice slightly quiet as she kept her attention forward. ¡°I would like to know what it was like, living in a human world.¡±


    I blinked at the surprisingly embarrassed undertones of Seris¡¯ intent. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to, Seris,¡± I replied, wrapping an arm around her and playfully pulling her closer. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


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    The Scythe pointedly turned her chin away from me as she got her thoughts in order. ¡°You spoke of how the people ruled themselves. Humans instead of gods,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I would like to hear of this. How did it work? What gears of power turned to bring life to the home you knew?¡±


    Amusement burned like a low candle in my chest at the powerful mage¡¯s hesitance. For all her power, poise, and endless skill, it seemed that even Seris had fantasies of her own¨Cand talking about them brought a nervous dusting of pink to her cheeks that I took the time to savor.


    But I also didn¡¯t want to lie to her, either. ¡°My world wasn¡¯t ideal in its leadership, Seris,¡± I said honestly. ¡°We had failures, just like this place. Maybe not the same kind. Maybe fewer failures. But everything is susceptible to human greed and lust for power.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the difference, though,¡± Seris replied, turning and nuzzling closer to me. She stared up into my eyes in a way that made my stomach do a very accurate interpretation of a somersault. ¡°Human greed. Human desires.¡±


    It slowly fell into place as Seris brushed her fingers through my hair absently. That was what she meant, when she said I gave her hope.


    My smile was wry and slightly sad as I looked down at the sculpted woman. ¡°I haven¡¯t found an asura that wasn¡¯t human in some way, Seris,¡± I said quietly, my voice low. ¡°I don¡¯t want to give you false hope.¡±


    The Scythe tilted her head, her horns absorbing the light. ¡°Intriguing,¡± she said slowly, entirely unfazed by my worries. ¡°You don¡¯t think the asura any different from man. Is that an otherworld ideal, too?¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders lightly. ¡°An asura¡¯s intent carries all the same emotions as any human¡¯s,¡± I replied. ¡°They¡¯re susceptible to all the same failures and desires. The only difference between Man and God is their power, not their personhood.¡±


    Something in my words made Seris¡¯ intent shift and crack in a way that told me I¡¯d accidentally touched something very, very intimate. The Scythe hummed lightly, pressing her forehead into my chest as her emotions fluctuated. Her horns speared up right past my eyes.


    I held her awkwardly, suppressing my uncertainty and sense of her emotions as she sorted whatever it was out. My eyes traced the horizon again, looking for new patterns.


    What would an asura see in that distance that a man could not? I wondered. In all my reading of that otherworld novel, every pitfall and failing of the asura was something so painfully human. And the more I lived in this world¡ªthe more I lived with Aurora¡ªthe more their mystique as ¡®deities¡¯ fell away.


    ¡°You wish to know what I see? I see infinity,¡± Aurora whispered somberly, her emotions startling me out of my reverie, ¡°endless possibility in the sunrise. But kindness, too. A mother¡¯s warmth.¡±


    I turned slightly, the Unseen World washing over my vision. In fact, I hadn¡¯t even been aware that it had vanished with how solely I¡¯d focused on Seris.


    Aurora was staring at me with a fond expression, but more directly at where my arm was linked with the Scythe¡¯s. ¡°I knew something had changed on that night of the Constellate, but to see with my own eyes is something else, my son,¡± she said with a slightly amused tone.


    I shifted slightly in annoyance at Aurora¡¯s knowing look, feeling remarkably close to the teenager my body technically was at the moment. Seris picked up on my change in demeanor quickly, taking her head from my chest and looking at me intensely.


    ¡°What is it, Toren?¡± she asked seriously, her intent evening out into one of focus at the drop of a dime. ¡°What is it you sense?¡±


    I averted my eyes from Aurora¡¯s burning ones. ¡°I¡¯m not sensing anything. Just, uh¡­ being put on the spot. By a very annoying bird,¡± I said, feeling a strange mixture of amusement and uncertainty from how my bond was treating my relationship.


    Seris, however, went slightly rigid at the mention of my bond, her eyes flicking about in a searching manner. ¡°She is here?¡± she said, her arm tensing around my own with increasing strength, her nerves palpable. She separated quickly, leaving me cold. ¡°Lady Dawn is watching us now?¡±


    I shared a look with Aurora, asking a silent question. She slowly nodded. ¡°I can show you,¡± I said slowly.


    Seris focused on me, her lips pursed and her eyes hard. ¡°What does this entail?¡± she asked with utter seriousness. ¡°For me to see this¡­ asuran shade?¡±


    The moon-blessed Scythe was clearly still uncertain about the presence of my bond, but I hoped what I was about to do would help assuage some of those fears. I rested a few fingers against my chest, calling on my heartfire. ¡°Nothing too absurd,¡± I said in what I hoped was a soothing tone as I drew a tendril of lifeforce from my chest, ¡°just something we¡¯ve done before.¡±


    Seris tensed as I pressed my fingers against her chest, watching¨Cyet still waiting¨Cas my vein of aether brushed against her beating heart.


    Inadvertently, I flashed back to the time I had slain Mardeth, draining him of his lifeforce as I drove a stake through his heart. At the very cusp of his demise, I was certain he¡¯d been able to see the haunting shade of Aurora behind me.


    And that suspicion was confirmed as Seris¡¯ eyes widened, focusing for the very first time on Aurora. But I was surprised to note that her fear seemed to decrease as she took in the phoenix¡¯s phantom form.


    ¡°Fascinating,¡± Seris eventually said. ¡°And all this time, she has been at your side?¡±


    ¡°I have,¡± Aurora said aloud, her head tilted as she stared back at Seris like an interested bird. ¡°And I have guided Toren as best I could.¡°


    Seris¡¯ brow raised as she stared between the two of us. ¡°Is that what you were doing earlier?¡± she asked, sounding curious, her tension far more restrained. ¡°Guiding him? The mana fluctuations were palpable even from my rooms¨Cthough I doubt any below the silver core could sense them.¡±


    I snorted lightly. ¡°Actually, yes,¡± I said with wry amusement. ¡°But Aurora was actually about to tell me a story before you interrupted¨Ca fairy tale told to young asura.¡±


    The phoenix¡¯s brow twitched slightly, but she restrained her annoyance at the term. ¡°Yes; that I was,¡± she admitted. ¡°At the Constellate not long ago, a puppeteer displayed an intimate knowledge of the story, but he knew not the full picture.¡±


    Seris hummed slightly, and I could almost see the gears turning behind her eyes. ¡°I will admit, my knowledge of the land of the gods is quite sparse, but I would have never suspected that story of the Dragon and the Mountain to have any note of truth,¡± she said skeptically. ¡°You believe the puppeteer had knowledge of that land?¡±


    ¡°Mount Geolus is the seat of Castle Indrath,¡± I explained, ¡°and from the story told by Barth, it seemed like the exact tale told to young asura. It¡¯s not unreasonable to assume that there was some spread of culture as the asura of Epheotus influenced the path of Dicathen, but it certainly catches the eye.¡±


    Aurora sighed, her hair drifting in the winds. ¡°The tale of Astranorum¨CFather Sky, as Barth coined it¨Cis also integral to the tale of the Asclepius,¡± she said almost offhandedly. ¡°Too often are the feats of my ancestors forgotten.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, then focused on the phoenix shade. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I said, far from privy to this information. ¡°I only knew the tale of Geolus, not any others.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s face tensed slightly, and a bare mental transmission threaded over our bond. ¡°You were not aware of this piece of knowledge?¡± she asked, tilting her head. ¡°You knew of Geolus, so I assumed that Astranorum was known to you as well.¡±


    No, I thought back. My knowledge of this world is limited, true, but all I learned was the source of the Indrath¡¯s great mountain. There were very few other perspectives of Epheotus.


    ¡°Do you two always settle into such strange, concentrated silence?¡± Seris asked at my side, breaking me from my contemplation. ¡°I feel as if I am being excluded from something. Are you keeping more secrets from me, Toren?¡± she asked, her voice somewhere between coy and truly questioning.


    ¡°I am,¡± I admitted with a sigh, not willing to prod at the reasons I had such knowledge of another world. ¡°And one day I might tell you, Seris, but it¡¯s not something one can just¡­ shrug off. I¡¯ve dropped enough revelations into your lap for you to process, I think.¡±


    Aurora still hadn¡¯t really processed that revelation, even after half a year of time had passed. And she was a shade, unable to really affect the world or interact. And from how she turned to look at the rising sun, a contemplative cast to her face, I knew she sensed the direction of my thoughts.


    Seris evidently picked up on the subtle interplay between the phoenix and me. ¡°If that was an attempt at deflection, it was a poor one,¡± she said slowly.


    I shook my head. I really didn¡¯t want to drop an existential crisis on Seris¡¯ head on top of everything else. ¡°Aurora was just telling me something about the old legends of the Asclepius Clan,¡± I said, and this time it really was an attempt at deflection.


    That, at least, was enough to pull Lady Dawn from her quiet musings of her own free will. ¡°Admittedly, not much is known of the Catastrophes from millennia long past. Only stories and legends that have become even more obscured and misted as time trailed forward,¡± Aurora said, turning back from the rising sun and orienting on both of us. ¡°Astranorum was one such calamity of living mana, much in the same way as Geolus. I cannot say for sure whether the tale of their motivations holds any truth, but there is something that I can say for certain.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s eyes brightened slightly as she continued her tale. ¡°In the ages long past, the Asclepius would never suffer to be bested by an Indrath, no matter the reasons.¡±


    I tilted my head, about to ask a question, but it was surprisingly Seris who spoke first. ¡°One of your ancestors slew this Living Storm, did they not?¡± she said, leaning forward slightly as her pupils churned. ¡°To contest the feat of the mighty dragons, the phoenixes needed a similar show of might.¡±


    Aurora paused, turning to look at Seris more intently. The Scythe, for her part, seemed to have settled her nerves greatly the more she talked with Aurora, though I still sensed an undercurrent of tension.


    My bond nodded slowly. ¡°You are quick to understand, Scythe of Sehz-Clar, no doubt due to your own tempest of power struggles and politics,¡± she said shortly. ¡°For countless millennia, the phoenix and the dragon were mortal enemies; contenders for the sky. And through slaying a Living Storm, one of my ancestors, Mordred Asclepius, made certain that the dragons would not upstage him. And with the corpse of the very winds he had conquered, Mordred crafted the Starbrand Sanctum so that it might forever coast along the skies, beyond the reach of all below.¡± S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I contemplated this new bit of knowledge carefully as Aurora¡¯s short story finished, rubbing my chin in thought. ¡°I feel like I should have known of this,¡± I said a bit lamely. Something as monumental as slaying a calamity of mana felt like it should have been highlighted more within The Beginning After the End, yet¡­


    Aurora sighed, tracing the directions of my thoughts. ¡°The story is not nearly as well known as that of Arkanus Indrath besting Geolus,¡± she said sourly. ¡°The mystical winds have long since begun to falter and fail millennia after the death of their source. Phoenixes must regularly imbue their mana into the whirling storm to keep it going, and it becomes more difficult every time. Storms do not linger as stone does. Indeed, there are tales told of Mordred and Arkanus¡¯ meeting in the aftermath of their great battle, where Arkanus himself said as such.¡±


    My bond enjoyed telling stories, I knew, and as I listened to her speak, I felt a quiet gratitude that this allowed her to take her mind off more existential questions. At my side, Seris listened attentively, her silver lashes contrasting the deep streaks of liner around her penetrating eyes. ¡°A petty thing for a god to do,¡± she said slowly, ¡°to slay a storm for no reason than to prove that they could.¡±


    I felt a bit of anxiety rise at Seris¡¯ bold statement, my brows furrowing. But Aurora took such ¡®criticism¡¯ in stride. ¡°Your barbed tongue loosens remarkably quickly, Scythe,¡± she said without affectation. ¡°But know that, unlike your Sovereigns, I claim no mantle of godhood. Indeed, it is a petty thing for a person to do. But the battle was so long ago that the true reasons for the act are no longer known¨Conly what the Indraths claim.¡±


    Seris¡¯ lips pursed slightly at Aurora¡¯s words, and I thought she seemed even more at ease in the aftermath. ¡°A fascinating story,¡± she said, orienting on me. She unlinked our arms, leaving me quietly sullen at the loss of warmth. ¡°But I cannot afford to linger in the sky all morning. I have already been sidetracked by you, Toren, and a Scythe cannot float on the winds all day, no matter how much she might want to.¡±


    ¡°If you wish to court a phoenix, you must accustom yourself with the sky, Scythe,¡± Aurora said, turning back to the sun. ¡°You cannot expect to always be on the ground. Worry not; it will be a valuable learning opportunity for one such as yourself.¡±


    ¡°Regardless,¡± Seris said sharply, pointedly ignoring the phoenix, ¡°I came to deliver news. Reinforcements will be arriving within a week from Alacrya on steamships, supplementing our current navy. And I have not been informed who will be arriving, but I suspect another Retainer is en route to supplant Cylrit¡¯s station in the Beast Glades.¡±


    The comfortable atmosphere¨Cif slightly tense at times¨Cdrifted away as talk of war took precedence. I focused fully on Seris as I ran over the implications in my head. I was no expert tactician, but I could immediately see the problem arising.


    Seris had practically full control of all Alacryan forces on Dicathen, both directly and indirectly. The two major fronts that I knew of were from Darv and the Beast Glades respectively, and Cylrit¡¯s position in the Beast Glades ostensibly gave her control even from Burim. If she wanted to keep that control, she couldn¡¯t afford to lose that avenue.


    ¡°To prepare for this, Cylrit will return here for a time to discuss plans,¡± Seris continued, ¡°plans you will be privy to. And soon, we must speak of your plans regarding certain anchors. Am I clear?¡±


    I shifted slightly in the air, noting the seriousness in the Scythe¡¯s tone. I nodded slowly at her severe expression, sensing the buildup of emotions beneath the surface of her masks. ¡°I¡¯ll be there for it, whatever is coming,¡± I said with surety and iron.


    The moon-sculpted mage¡¯s expression softened slightly at my tone, a slight smile pulling at the edges of her lips. ¡°I know you will,¡± she said, brushing past me before floating back down toward Burim.


    I watched her go fondly, that burgeoning warmth in my chest keeping me just as warm as the spring sunlight. Eventually, the vein of lifeforce that connected our hearts dissipated as the distance grew.


    ¡°She tests me,¡± Aurora said with a mix of annoyance and respect. ¡°She is subtle with her prodding, but she inches around me with veiled words and hidden meanings. I know not whether to find it amusing or irritating.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°All she¡¯s ever known of asura are snakes in the grass, poised to strike,¡± I said solemnly, ¡°so she treats you as if you might sink fangs into her at the slightest provocation.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t missed the interplay between my bond and my lover. She¡¯d been cautious in how she¡¯d spoken to Aurora, and her intent radiated that clearly.


    ¡°I know, my son,¡± Aurora said with a melancholy that mirrored my own. ¡°I know. I cannot forget that she is iron forged by the furnace of Alacrya.¡±


    That sentence brought my thoughts back toward what Seris had alluded to before she¡¯d left. I worked my jaw as I thought of what was to come in this war. I didn¡¯t know if these reinforcements were part of ¡°canon,¡± but I could hardly be sure any longer.


    But if I were right, it seemed as if Seris was ready to bring me fully on board with her plans for rebellion.

 Chapter 229: For the Scythe

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    This puzzle should have been easy. In fact, I was certain that under literally any other circumstances, it would be easy. I already had a clear path to victory in my head, and if I could just¨C


    The godforsaken block I¡¯d been nudging lurched a centimeter too far to the side, throwing the entire structure out of balance. And like a single card removed from a mansion of them, all my progress collapsed inward. The puzzle reset itself, scrambling my work on the way out.


    ¡°God dammit,¡± I cursed aloud, drawing a few wary looks from passersby. I ignored them as I focused back on the puzzle, walking along as I engaged my telekinetic regalia to the utmost.


    Seris had once again commissioned a puzzle for me to complete. This one was like a confounding cross between a Jenga tower and a Rubik¡¯s cube¨Cand I could only twist the blocks with my rune.


    I sighed as I allowed my anger to settle, giving myself a moment before I attempted to solve it again. It was designed to progressively require more and more delicate care and finesse as I shifted the pieces about, and the act actually served to help me discover the intricacies of my new rune.


    I had infinitely more fine control than ever before, the ambient mana itself supporting my telekinesis under the influence of my white core. Yet like a muscle I¡¯d never exercised, I needed to practice each twitch and pull.


    This mana-imbibed puzzle was perfect for that. Seris had ordered it artificed in record time after I¡¯d told her of my new abilities.


    After a few more unsuccessful tries¨CI kept getting stuck on the portions that required multiple points of steady, continuous pushing that would barely nudge a blade of grass¨CI finally stowed the puzzle into my dimension ring.


    That had thankfully been returned to me, and Seris had assured me that she had personally kept it in the wake of my imprisonment.


    Some part of me quietly wondered if the enigmatic Scythe had indeed looked through it and found my journal on The Beginning After the End, but I doubted it. If she had, though, she either hadn¡¯t deciphered it or was a better manipulator than Agrona himself.


    I let those thoughts drift away as I strolled along the hanging bridges of Burim, noting the return of tension in the aftermath of the Aurora Constellate. It felt like the last time we would have peace, and the city¡¯s very foundations seemed to agree.


    Speaking of the Constellate, I¡¯d just left a brief meeting with Barth the puppeteer. I¡¯d bought some aged leatherbound folktales from him and also subtly inquired about the source of the story he¡¯d told a few nights ago during the Constellate.


    Barth had revealed to me that his great-great-great-grandfather had helped a man along the road, and as was tradition back in the day in his House, only asked for a unique story in return.


    Apparently, the nondescript traveler¨Cno doubt an asura in disguise¨Chad told Barth¡¯s ancestor the story of the Dragon and the Mountain. Barth¡¯s ancestor had sensed the importance of the tale, even if he hadn¡¯t truly recognized its origins.


    As I¡¯d been trying to leave, Barth had tried to cajole more information from me about ¡°The Ascender and the Sorceress,¡± namely if he could get me to tell it at another of his shows. Apparently, the tale of my encounter with Seris had spread through Burim like wildfire.


    I¡¯d declined that offer. That was the kind of story I only told once.


    It¡¯s probably going to reach Alacrya soon, too, I thought, for once wondering if I really should have been so¡­ blatant. Seris had certainly found it charming, but was it really the wisest thing to do?


    I felt my shoulders slump a bit at the thought. It¡¯s a unique kind of exhausting, always trying to account for everything, I recognized. With how public of a figure I am, I have to be careful with anything and everything that comes out of my mouth.


    In that moment, I felt my respect for Seris build up just a little more. It made more sense to me why she¡¯d restrained and pulled her emotions inward so much. They could make us¡­ impulsive.


    I perked up as I sensed someone familiar rushing toward me. Lusul had a careful mask of duty on his face as he strode toward me at a clipped pace.


    I slowed in my walk as the young man approached, giving him a respectful nod that he returned. ¡°Lieutenant,¡± I said in greeting. The son of Named Blood Hercross had risen quickly through the military ranks after my initial promotion as he proved his worth, though he still reported directly to me. ¡°News to report?¡±


    The dark-skinned man nodded curtly. We¡¯d been working on the basics of what intent truly was these past few days and hadn¡¯t yet delved into the more complex workings of my music as I taught him. It would be a slow process teaching the talented musician my craft, namely because he lacked certain advantages in senses and inclination.


    ¡°A letter from Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he said, proffering a letter from underneath his coat. ¡°For your hands only.¡±


    Immediately, my brow creased in suspicion as I took the letter from Lusul. It was stamped with Seris¡¯ seal, certainly, but I knew that if she wanted to contact me, our communication artifacts were a far more direct method.


    Unless there¡¯s something compromised with our artifacts,


    I thought, feeling a bit of worry creep through my mind. Seris had alluded to bringing me into her true plans next time we properly spoke, and the Scythe spent most of her time delegating work and directing Burim from the shadows of the Divot. Today, she was tending to our troops on the Earthmother¡¯s Isle a few miles out from Burim. If Seris wants to speak to me, then maybe¡­


    I felt a certain sense of foreboding as I ran my fingers along the deep red stamp. It displayed the iconography of Sehz-Clar prominently, proudly declaring its source. Yet the smooth texture of paper beneath my fingertips felt coarser than it should¡¯ve.


    I broke the seal, not displaying any of my reservations outwardly. I felt Aurora¡¯s mind drift closer to my own in a measure of silent support as I slowly pulled the paper within from the envelope.


    There were barely a few sentences on the paper. Each letter was immaculately inked with a master stroke of a pen, and I could almost feel the grace that emanated from each swirling loop and curve.


    But this was unmistakably not Seris¡¯ handwriting, and it was not an order from my Scythe.


    I looked up from the paper, my face settling to stone as I observed Lusul. ¡°This wasn¡¯t given to you by Seris,¡± I said. A statement, not a question.


    Lusul evidently sensed the seriousness in my tone. He straightened slightly. ¡°No, Toren. It was given to me by Captain Dromorth. I didn¡¯t ask questions.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Dromorth was one of Seris¡¯ captains who held my respect. Nearly everyone who accompanied Seris to Dicathen was an accomplished military veteran or had attained their position through merit, but I knew Seris wouldn¡¯t take such a roundabout route of contacting me. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I folded the letter back into its envelope, then neatly tucked it into the folds of my vest. The words inked within weighed on my mind like a heavy blanket, smothering out everything else. ¡°Report back to your troops, Lusul,¡± I said sternly, turning away and facing the cavern exit. It was midday, and the light streamed in slightly from the Bay of Burim to cast shadows across everything. ¡°And ensure that those stationed on the docks be ready.¡±


    Lusul shifted slightly. ¡°Ready for what, Toren?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Just make sure they¡¯re ready,¡± I said, already beginning to stride away.


    There were a few beats of silence as I finally began to move, running over the implications in my head and what this could mean. ¡°Toren?¡± Lusul called after me.


    I paused, looking back. ¡°Yes, Lieutenant?¡± I said sharply.


    Lusul coughed nervously. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Are the docks in danger?¡±


    I blinked, sensing the iota of worry in my subordinate¡¯s own intent. It took me a heartbeat to remember that Lusul¡¯s lover lived and worked near Burim¡¯s docks. If something happened there, she¡¯d be in danger.


    I sighed. ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be,¡± I said promptly as I stared back at the yawning mouth of Burim¡¯s cavernous exit. ¡°But with the business I need to tend to, I can¡¯t be sure.¡±


    I ignored Lusul¡¯s panicked heartbeat as I marched toward the sunlight, determination and resolve settling in my veins. The letter¨Cthe challenge within¨Cweighed heavily in my pocket.


    ¡ª


    Burim¡¯s docks were unique. Unlike most seaside ports and cities that built wooden supports and extended pathways out into the water, the dwarven city had a unique obstacle to face.


    Whenever the lavatides erupted from the cavern, they seeped into the bay just outside the city, solidifying into rock and spreading the land just a bit further. The ingenious dwarves of Darv had taken what had once been a logistical nightmare and worked it to their advantage.


    Whenever a lavatide struck, magma mages were deployed to shape and mold the flow of certain parts of the breakout. By doing so, the guided streams of molten rock solidified and hardened into the exact shapes needed to form docks, buildings, roadways, and more¨Cand with the unique properties found only in Burim¡¯s magma, they hardened into truly resistant material.


    These thoughts and more flitted in the background of my mind as I trudged along the furthest stretches of Burim¡¯s pier. Beyond the normal hustle and bustle; beyond the chugging and churning of the occasional steamship.


    A single figure waited for me at the very end of the stone outcroppings. If I hadn¡¯t sensed their heartfire and restrained intent, I might have thought them carved of the very same rock beneath them. They stood still as a statue. Unmoving and unyielding, even as their cape blew in the sea breeze.


    I stopped several yards away, my nerves strangely cool as I stared at the dark plate armor of the figure¡¯s back. Cylrit, Retainer of Seris Vritra, radiated power that few in this world could ever hope to match.


    Aurora wasn¡¯t here right now. Even without my explicit request, she knew¨Csensed, on some level¨Cthat I needed to do this alone. She might have scoffed and rolled her eyes as she did so, but she respected me anyway.


    I¡¯d experienced many kinds of tension before. Facing enemies, fighting for my life in the Relictombs, protecting those I cared for¡­ But the wrought energy that stretched between Cylrit and me¨Ceven with his back turned¨Cwas unlike anything I¡¯d experienced before.


    ¡°Most Vritra-blooded mages know from whence their lineage stems,¡± Cylrit finally said, his words cool and even as they thrummed in the air. ¡°At the root of all power in Alacrya are the traces of god¡¯s blood that flow through the veins of all. Yet despite this, even once I manifested my heritage, I knew not the names of my scion nor the reason for my latent abilities.¡±


    Cylrit finally turned to me, like a machine turns on its axis. ¡°I grew up in the depths of hell. But it was a hell seen everywhere in Alacrya. A bloody testament to our warlike nature. And though my potential was great, I would have been swept away in the tides of the Redfeud War.¡±


    Cylrit clenched a gauntleted fist, and I could hear the dark metal creak. ¡°I would have been a mindless slave to the whims of those beyond me, were it not for Seris. She rescued me from the folly of my own hubris; showed me the truth of this world. Saved me from the soulfire of my existence.¡±


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    I clasped my hands behind my back as I locked eyes with the Retainer. His pupils¨Ceach the color of curdled blood¨Cbored into mine with singular intensity.


    ¡°And for half a century, I have stood by her side. Helped and been her support where I could. Very little has she changed, and very little has she needed to. Until you.


    ¡±


    ¡°And is that why you¡¯ve called me out here?¡± I asked, the letter Cylrit had penned floating out of my vest and hovering between us. With the effortless precision of my recently upgraded regalia, I was able to unfold the letter with barely a touch of my mind. ¡°You said I needed to ¡®answer for my actions.¡¯ But you¡¯ve yet to make any accusations, Cylrit,¡± I said sternly.


    Cylrit exhaled slowly through his nose, his mana swelling. ¡°I need not make any ¡®accusations,¡¯ ¡± he said sharply, ¡°because you know what you have done.¡±


    My eyes narrowed as my stance shifted slightly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as Cylrit¡¯s aura slowly expanded. ¡°You can hide this behind all the pretense and pretty words you want, Cylrit,¡± I bit back, ¡°but we both know what this is about. It¡¯s about you. It¡¯s about me. And it¡¯s about Seris.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s face hardened into stone as he held a hand out to the side. In a flourish of dark shadows, his pitch-black greatsword materialized beside him, easily taller than he was.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora said, suddenly worried as I began to call on my mana, ¡°I should be¨C¡±


    He wants to fight me again, I thought sharply back to my bond, focused on the Retainer¡¯s swirling intent as my aura clashed against his. So I¡¯m going to fight him.


    ¡°You are right, Toren Daen,¡± Cylrit eventually said, the edges of his lip curling into a sneer. ¡°This is simply a battle that must be fought.¡±


    When I¡¯d first fought Cylrit in the sparring ring, I¡¯d been at the high-silver stage of my core. Yet now, with the benefit of my white core, I could divine the true depths of how much he had been holding back.


    The man blurred forward in a flash of dark steel, the ground cratering beneath his boots as he launched toward me. His massive sword¨Cmore like a slab of iron than a real blade¨Ccut through the air like the blade of a god as it sought my throat.


    I barely managed to duck underneath the scything arc of the black blade, the wind it trailed in its wake causing the sea around us to churn and splash against nearby buildings. I withdrew Inversion from my dimension ring, the familiar horn warm in my palms as it pulsed with energy.


    I retaliated with a cut toward Cylrit¡¯s arm, mana churning along my veins. Right before impact, I released a gout of fire from Inversion¡¯s tip.


    Cylrit twisted his sword with impossible speed, something in the structure shifting imperceptibly. All at once, the fire I¡¯d released was sucked toward his blade.


    Perfect, I thought, building a layer of restrained telekinetic force over my hands. My part-asuran physique drank in the energy greedily as I funneled more and more energy into my arms, reinforcing my body and increasing my strength a hundredfold.


    I saw a flash in Cylrit¡¯s eyes as he no doubt guessed at my plan. With his sword caught absorbing my fire, he couldn¡¯t switch fast enough to block my telekinesis.


    I surged upward, and the Retainer predictably shifted his sword to try and deflect whatever attack he thought was coming. I could almost taste his intentions in his mana, my hands supernaturally guided by instinct and technique.


    And instead of slamming a punch into Cylrit¡¯s massive greatsword, I latched onto it. My hands wrapped around the black metal, and I twisted my body. The ground around me shuddered and cracked from the sheer force building up along my physique as mana flowed in perfect tandem with my martial form.


    And then I twisted around, focusing my telekinetic buildup into a fine, accelerated tube. Cylrit was caught off guard for barely a fraction of an instant, but that was all that was needed. With the force of a twisting cyclone, I shoved his massive weapon into the accel path of telekinetic force, and his sword was torn from his hands with the force of a cannon. A shockwave burst around us as it became less than a blur, digging into the cliff walls with the sound of shearing rock and crumbling stone.


    Simultaneously, my fist lashed out with a coating of sound mana that eagerly wrapped my knuckles. Cylrit actually managed to bring his arms into a hasty block, but the impact of my strike on his black steel gauntlets rang like thunder as my sound spell detonated in a wave of vibrations.


    Cylrit shot backward off the pier, his cape billowing red as his body blurred. A wake trailed behind him from the displacement of air as the sea roiled like an angry serpent. After a few dozen yards, he managed to catch himself, hovering just above the water as he stared at me with a modicum of surprise.


    I exhaled as I stood back to my full height, calling on my heartfire to wash over my broken hand and soothe my injuries. I floated off the pier as well, standing on the water as I stared resolutely at the distant Retainer.


    ¡°I¡¯ve learned some new tricks since we last fought,¡± I said resolutely. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to do better than a disposable greatsword if you want to defeat me, Cylrit,¡± I snarled.


    Cylrit¡¯s gauntlets steamed as he lowered his arms, his blood-red eyes flicking to the cavern walls far behind us. The handle of his weapon jutted out there, almost inviting him to try and grab it. But we both knew I wouldn¡¯t let him get that far.


    Cylrit sneered, his sharp jaw twisting as he held his hands out to the sides. I watched, my confidence never wavering, even as two new constructs of black metal appeared beside Cylrit¡¯s arms.


    A gargantuan shield¨Ceasily tall enough to cover Cylrit from head to toe¨Cemerged from a swirl of shadow. Brutal imagery and jagged lines were engraved deep into the metal, giving it a menacing appearance that seemed to drink in the light. In his opposing hand, a short spatha of dark iron settled there neatly.


    ¡°It has been a long time since I have called on these weapons,¡± Cylrit said gravely. ¡°An age since I conjured their likeness. You have made a mistake to think me powerless without my greatsword. In another life and by another name did I wield these weapons, and you should feel honored to witness their edges once more.¡±


    Shrouded wings slowly grew from my back as I faced this new threat, crystalline feathers laying over each other one by one. A shrouded blade emerged from Inversion, burning with red plasma as it hummed in the air.


    I took a step back on the water, a single ripple spreading from the sole of my boot. My wings flared as I focused intently on the Retainer, grim resolve settling in my bones. I didn¡¯t respond with a quip or a flippant remark.


    A surge of telekinesis erupted from beneath my feet as I blurred forward, swinging Inversion as I closed the distance in time with my beating heart. The air whipped at my hair as I aimed a precise cut at Cylrit¡¯s shield, my shrouded wings buzzing with sound magic as the feathers closed in from both sides.


    I knew the tower shield in his hand shifted elements when I felt the slightest tug on my wings and sword, but I pushed past the force. It was noticeably weaker than it had ever been before, because no longer was my telekinesis truly bearing an elemental affinity beyond the barest influence of gravity.


    My wings scraped across the angry black shield with a clang of metal as Cylrit was forced backward in the air. A thrust of Inversion threatened to weave around the massive wall in my path as my wings forced it sideways, but I was forced to deflect the Retainer¡¯s spatha with my plasma-laden saber in a shower of sparks. Cylrit snarled before he shoved his shield at me in a calculated bash.


    I maneuvered my wings in front of my face, bracing against the shock. I still felt my stomach lurch as they cracked. The blow sent me arcing up into the sky, and I had to roll slightly to avoid the surge of Cylrit¡¯s spatha as he threw it.


    I detached a few of the feathers from my wings, imbuing them with a mix of fire and sound, before they surged down toward Cylrit like rabid hornets. Each trailed streams of light and heat as they sought to maneuver past the man¡¯s iron defense.


    Cylrit¡¯s spatha cut at me of its own accord, somehow controlled by the Retainer in a manner entirely unlike my telekinesis. I dipped and weaved as the black sword sought my blood, deflecting it with Inversion as I built up another surge of psychokinetic force around me.


    It seemed there was no better time to test my new abilities than in the heat of combat. I quickly learned that my telekinesis operated more akin to how I flew, with the ambient mana itself assisting the movement and control of objects around me.


    That was why Cylrit¡¯s strange gravity constructs had a harder time influencing my telekinesis now. While he could target the innate spell¡¯s mana signature and alter his weapons to attract that type, it wasn¡¯t so simple anymore.


    It was also why I was able to utilize accel paths¨Cthe technique that facilitated the Stake of the Morning¨Cwith far more ease. My telekinetic shoves always bore a pushback, but now the ambient mana itself could bear the brunt of such force.


    I built up a stream of force around me, redirecting Cylrit¡¯s spatha away at the same time I twisted to block another slam of his shield. My body rocked as I made momentary eye contact with the Retainer, his speed far beyond anything I¡¯d seen during sparring.


    It was only instincts honed over many months of combat and a twinge of Cylrit¡¯s intent that saved me. A dark metal spike erupted from the dark-haired Retainer¡¯s shield, streaking toward my eye. I snapped my head to the side, but it still drew a long, deep cut along my cheek.


    That disorientation was enough. Cylrit¡¯s gauntleted fist struck me hard in the ribs, my telekinetic shroud cracking as the air was driven from my lungs. An instinctual swipe of Inversion deflected the spatha as it tried to skewer me from behind, but then I felt a flash of pain as Cylrit¡¯s leg impacted my jaw like a hammer blow.


    Why did he always aim for my goddamn jaw?


    My vision flashed as I surged backward, my world spinning as my head rocked. Yet Cylrit didn¡¯t let me go. Like an unyielding sentinel, he harried my retreat with quick swipes of his shortsword and intimidating bashes of his shield.


    ¡°I was born in the depths of the gladiator rings of Victorious, deep in the hells of Vechor,¡± he snarled, his black blade barely redirected from my throat as he kept me off balance. ¡°For twenty years I fought for cruel masters. Twenty years I bloodied my blade on untrained whelps and the greatest of masters alike. I was a brute. An animal. A monster.¡±


    Finally, I released some of my restraint as I was forced backward through the sky, my emotions dipping toward anger as another deep cut was drawn across my body. I snapped my hands out, unleashing an oscillating surge of sound mana that made the ocean tremble and the air scream. Cylrit merely grunted as it shoved him back, but I wasn¡¯t done.


    I called on my regalia, willing the world around me to shift. Water rose from the ocean as it was caught in the untethered pulls of my mana, swirling like a roaring vortex as I concentrated. Let¡¯s see you deal with this, I thought, before sending the miniature tsunami of water at the Retainer.


    I was no water mage, and I knew for a fact that a conjurer with a water affinity would be able to do what I¡¯d just done with far more efficiency and power. But that wasn¡¯t why I was currently trying to drown Cylrit in a torrent of water. He couldn¡¯t deflect or absorb it with ease like my fire, sound, or plasma attacks. That left him off balance.


    Even as I forced the bubble of water to condense around Cylrit from all sides, bashing and pushing and soaking him from every direction, I focused on my regalia, creating a thin stream of energy in front of me. An accel path of unbelievably concentrated physical force shimmered in front of me as I lined up my shot.


    I snarled with the strain as I pulled a single feather from my shrouded wings. I couldn¡¯t simply conjure telekinetic constructs everywhere I wanted, but this? This I could do.


    I stretched the feather out, imbuing it with a simple coating of plasma. The light flickered and danced within the crystalline lattices of mana as my breathing came up short.


    I could sense Cylrit within pushing against my sphere of water, unable to easily redirect or escape it due to its lack of true affinity. But we both knew it wouldn¡¯t hold him for long.


    I prepared to line up the plasma-laden feather along the accel path in front of me, my ears keenly noting Cylrit¡¯s heartfire. With this level of strength, I knew it wasn¡¯t anywhere near the level of a Stake of the Morning, but I would relish the damage the Retainer would suffer when I dropped this in.


    Then something crashed into the back of my head¨Chard. I shot forward into the water with the speed of a cannonball as my protective shroud cracked, losing control of my spells as I cried out in sudden pain. The water was cold and disorienting as I was swallowed by the depths, my ears ringing. The sudden change in pressure chilled my blood, my shrouded wings simmering away as I was cast into darkness.


    I could feel Aurora¡¯s distant worry and dismay as I sank, my vision shaking as I trailed liquid red. My heartfire worked to heal me, a twisting serpent of blood snaking after my skull as I fell deeper into the abyss.


    He managed to hit me, I thought, blinking weakly in the water as I struggled to maintain a coherent thought through the dizzying pain. I drifted lower and lower in the water, rays of sunlight smiling down in refracted shimmers through the surface above. How?


    Everything quickly came back into focus as I gritted my teeth, my heartfire washing away what was certainly a serious brain injury. My feet finally touched the bottom of the bay, and though I couldn¡¯t afford to open my mouth underwater, I felt that I might scream in frustration.


    I narrowed my eyes as I bent my knees, building up layers of telekinetic force beneath my feet. The currents whipped and churned around me as my mana quaked. I resummoned my shrouded wings, their placement on my back feeling beyond natural.


    And then I surged upward, pulling myself through the water as I flew. In a fraction of a second, I was above water again, glaring daggers at Cylrit where he floated nonchalantly.


    It was immediately clear what exactly had struck me in the back of the skull. As focused as I was on my accel feather, I hadn¡¯t noticed Cylrit¡¯s greatsword streaking back toward him. A splattering of crimson blood was apparent on the flat of the massive blade from where it had struck me in the head.


    ¡°I was forged in death, Spellsong, but my blade was quenched in duty. Seris Vritra saved me from the depths of the gladiatorial pits, but she would not have done so if I had not proved I was willing to fight.¡± The Retainer grasped his massive black sword, leveling it at me like the hammer of a judge. ¡°You do not give this fight your all, just as you refused before,¡± Cylrit intoned sharply, his three conjured weapons hovering around him. ¡°I suffer this disrespect only once, Toren Daen. The next strike will free you of your head. There is no freedom for hesitation; no room for doubt. You dedicate your heart, or you do not.¡±


    My eyes darted to the splatter of red across Cylrit¡¯s greatsword as I worked my jaw. It was clear to me that if he had cared to angle his weapon just a bit more so that I¡¯d face the edge instead of the flat, there was a real possibility of his threat bearing weight.


    I allowed my elevated heartbeat to drift away as I exhaled, relaxing my clenched fists. I could simply delve into my Acquire Phase. I felt certain that would be enough to close the gap once more¨Cno, that would exceed the gap. But as I stared into Cylrit¡¯s coldly demanding eyes, I recognized the disrespect that would be.


    We fought for greater reasons than to truly test our might.


    To dedicate my heart, fully and utterly, I thought, noting as Aurora drifted closer to my mind. My Phoenix Will shifted in the depths of my core as it slowly unfurled its metaphysical wings.


    ¡°I have dedicated myself,¡± I said evenly, my voice becoming more melodic as my hair shifted colors to that of a burning red. Feathered orange runes coursed up my arms as winged glyphs unfurled beneath my eyes. ¡°To this people. To this world. To hervision,¡± I said with surety as mana flowed anew across my channels. ¡°And if this is what it takes to prove it to you, Cylrit of Victorious, then so be it.¡±

 Chapter 230: The Benefits of Swill

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I¡¯d always known that my Phoenix Will affected my mind. Instincts, insight, and knowledge not innately my own pressed against the confines of my skull. They waited to be unleashed, to be harnessed and used. Like a roaring, raging forest fire that couldn¡¯t be stopped, but also a comfortable warmth like a grandmother¡¯s inviting hearth.


    But as I settled into Soulplume for the first time since I¡¯d ascended to the white core, I could sense¨Cjust barely on the periphery of my very essence¨Ca deeper truth about my Will.


    It wasn¡¯t just my mind that was influenced. No, it was my soul. Like a balloon that was suddenly being infused with more air, I could sense as my very essence expanded. Except that wasn¡¯t a perfect analogy either. It was more like¡­ two different shades of paint mixing together, but one was so bright and luminescent that it threatened to completely subsume the other.


    I could sense Aurora¡¯s soul, too, like guiding rays of sunlight that lit the path in front of me, showing me the path well-trodden. Even as I became more like the Will and the Will became more like me, my bond¡¯s steady hand guided me through the currents of energy. I could almost taste the bleedover between our souls.


    I gently wiped the blood away from the back of my skull, watching the motes of aetheric heartfire simmer away in the crimson. So interesting an avenue, I thought, sparks of white flames dancing along my fingertips as it burned away the blood. To reach the soul.


    Cylrit hovered motionlessly in the air further away, and from his widened eyes and the minutiae of his intent, I knew that shock pervaded his system. I kept my aura leashed, tightened and controlled. But I knew he sensed a modicum of the power in my veins.


    ¡°So this is your true power, Spellsong?¡± he said, settling back into stance even as he radiated uncertainty. ¡°It took you long enough. It¡¯s time you stopped holding back.¡±


    I let out a sigh that carried untold weight. My breath steamed as I finally turned my burning eyes toward Cylrit. ¡°We are under the sky, Retainer of Sehz-Clar,¡± I said shortly. ¡°This is no longer a battle.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s brow furrowed as he regarded me. ¡°You should not disregard me so casually, Spellsong.¡±


    ¡°I am not,¡± I said, tilting my head as my hair blew in the breeze. I straightened my hand so my fingers formed like knives, calling on my mana as I prepared to strike. ¡°I would not engage this power if I did not respect your own Will, Cylrit of Victorious.¡±


    He opened his mouth to reply, just barely peering over the edge of his tower shield.


    But I was already in front of him. My hand, vibrating with innumerable particles of sound mana and enshrouded with crystalline energy, pierced his tower shield like a hot knife through butter. My hand erupted out the other side, and with a twist of my arm, the metal spun away into the ocean below. My fingers grasped Cylrit¡¯s throat before he could even blink.


    To the warrior¡¯s credit, he reacted nearly immediately. His spatha and greatsword surged in from the side, attempting to cleave me in two, but the barest application of my regalia froze them in their tracks.


    I could feel Cylrit¡¯s mana struggling against the impossible effects of my own, twisting and clawing as each weapon attempted to wrench itself free. But his weapons would not budge, even as the man¡¯s hands gripped my forearm with deadly strength.


    I stared into Cylrit¡¯s blood-red eyes as I raised my opposing hand. Orange fire coalesced on the tips of my middle and index finger, before brightening to a frightening azure, then settling into a brilliant white ember. And with a brush of sound mana, it began to hum with the contained force of plasma.


    I levered the fingers against Cylrit¡¯s burnished black breastplate, just over his heart. The metal began to sizzle and pop as my primed spell burned through the bare metal it touched, the white-hot liquid seeping down like tears.


    ¡°I rose to your challenge, Retainer of Sehz-Clar,¡± I said evenly into the eerily still air. ¡°Do you yield?¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver from mine, even as the glare of my eyes brightened. Admirable.


    ¡°You swear your heart to her cause. You will never hurt her,¡± Cylrit said. He was in no place to make demands, yet still, his tone told me this was the highest of commands, even with my rune-burned fingers around his throat. ¡°You will never let her come to harm.¡±


    My gaze softened, and though Cylrit¡¯s weapons still strained and fought to break free of my telekinetic hold, I allowed my hold over Soulplume to slacken. The feathered runes burning along my skin slowly faded into motes of energy as the touch on my soul retreated. That rush of insight and soul-melding knowledge simmered away like blood on a hot stove as I withdrew my hand from Cylrit¡¯s throat.


    The Retainer hobbled in the air, sinking slightly as he rubbed at his pale skin, a bruise already starting to form beneath the flesh. He winced slightly as he caressed his neck, but his gaze never wavered from my face.


    ¡°I can¡¯t promise that she will never be hurt, Cylrit,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°With the nature of her vision, that would be impossible. But I will swear an Oath, that no matter her trials, I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and see those goals fulfilled.¡± I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat. The chains that ensorcelled my left arm¨Cmarks of my pact with Aurora, forged so long ago¨Cflashed as another promise was engraved into my soul.


    Cylrit stared at me for a long, long time, before he nodded slowly. His weapons slowly returned to his side under some sort of psychokinetic control, before vanishing into black shadow. ¡°Good,¡± he intoned sharply, finally averting his gaze. ¡±I expect nothing less from a man of your quality, Toren Daen. Do not disappoint me.¡±


    A tension I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d been carrying slowly loosened from my shoulders as I turned away, my thoughts coming more clearly as I stared back at the docks. Part of the pier had been destroyed just from the side effects of our battle, and there was a massive crater in the cliff face from where I¡¯d redirected Cylrit¡¯s sword with an accel path. I watched a large boulder break away from the rocks, before tumbling down into the sea with a splash.


    I¡¯ll have to get some earth mages to fix that, I thought with a wince.


    ¡°Men and their squabbles over women,¡± Aurora huffed absently across my mind, still distant. ¡°It matters not if one is human or asura. It¡¯s all the same.¡±


    I pointedly ignored that comment from my bond.


    My eyes traced along the pier as Cylrit hovered awkwardly beside me, neither of us really knowing what to say even after our¡­ mutual understanding. It felt like more needed to be said, but I didn¡¯t really know how to broach the topic. And from the constipated look on the Retainer¡¯s annoyingly handsome face, he was feeling much the same.


    My eyes finally spotted a certain establishment along the edges of the pier, a ways away from the site of our battle.


    And an idea popped into my head.


    ¡°Cylrit,¡± I said, my eyes lingering on the very specific building, ¡°have you ever gone out drinking?¡±


    If there was nothing else I gained today, I knew the absolutely incredulous look on Cylrit¡¯s face would stay with me till the end of my days.


    ¡ª


    I pushed open the door to the bar, my eyes immediately adjusting to the lower light. Scented cigar smoke drifted through the air, but it was stale. From how most of the patrons of the bar were either huddled under tables, braced against walls, or otherwise rippling with anxiety, I knew that the smoke wasn¡¯t from anything recent.


    Or maybe someone smoked because they were stressed, I thought as I loped into the dimly lit tavern, noting the stares of the hunkered people. I thought of Hofal, then, a note of melancholic nostalgia surfacing at the thought of the old, grandfatherly man.


    I restrained a sigh as the fear-struck gazes of the patrons lingered on me¨Cand even more on the person who entered behind me.


    Cylrit had to duck to enter the tavern. We were both taller than average people, but combined with his horns jutting above his head, the width of his plate armor, and the fact that most things were dwarf-sized, the poor Retainer looked like a giant among men as he strode awkwardly behind me.


    Ignoring the looks of the other patrons, I finally reached the bar counter, making eye contact with a very nervous bartender.


    ¡°What¡¯s the strongest draft you have?¡± I asked tiredly, slumping onto the barstool and laying my elbows on the counter.


    The barman¡¯s eyes flicked to the dark figure behind me. Cylrit loomed there like a sentinel of death. To everyone else, he must have appeared like an intimidating golem of black metal. To me, he looked like he¡¯d eaten something spicy and was currently struggling to pass it through his colon.


    The bartender coughed nervously. ¡°Pardon me, milord,¡± he wheezed out, ¡°But there¡¯s been disturbances all across the docks. Earthquakes, mana flares. A fight between monstrous mages. People are taking shelter here in case it escalates, so we can¡¯t¡­ well¡­¡±


    I pointedly avoided looking at Cylrit. He didn¡¯t look at me, either.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem,¡± I said, dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s done now. And you can certainly open for business again.¡±


    The bartender¡¯s eyes widened as his gaze darted from Cylrit¡¯s horns, then to the red chain inked on my palm, no doubt putting two and two together.


    Before the poor man could piss himself, I withdrew a heavy sack of gold coins from my dimension ring. When I set it down on the counter, the wood audibly creaked. ¡°A barrel of the strongest stuff you have,¡± I announced, ¡°And use the leftovers to pay for a dozen rounds for everyone still here,¡± I said loudly.


    The man¡¯s eyes bulged out of their sockets as the gold glinted in the low light. Where before the heartfires around me thumped quickly and with fear, now it shifted to excitement as murmuring and the addled drunkenness of the patrons resurfaced.


    Free booze was free booze, no matter the world.


    The bartender struggled to carry the sack of coins away, the heft nearly too much for his thinner arms. I watched him go as the tavern slowly began to increase in rowdiness as the anticipation in men about¨Cmostly dwarves¨Cgrew exponentially.


    Poor Cylrit watched this with a strained face. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was surprised by how quickly these people bounced back from their fear or was disgruntled by it.


    ¡°I did not take you for one to go to such... establishments,¡± Cylrit said as the barman disappeared behind the counter. With a helpful cover of sound mana, I made sure none of our talks would be heard by others.


    I kept my mind attuned to the flow of the people around us. None got too close, even as they pressed up against the bar in growing desire for whatever the barman would bring out.


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I said gravely, ¡°but there are some conversations that need alcohol.¡±


    As if on cue, the portly bartender stumbled out of the back with two barrels balanced on his shoulders. Cheers went up through the entire room as he set one down with a heavy thump, and miners and dockworkers just off their shifts swarmed the tap like bees buzzing to honey.


    There was a lot less fanfare as the barman set the barrel down in front of us, his eyes flicking nervously between me and the Retainer. ¡°If there¡¯s anything else, milords, just ask,¡± he sputtered out, hastily dropping a couple of tankards in front of us before scurrying back toward his other patrons.


    One entire half of the bar was completely devoid of presence aside from the Retainer and I. I grabbed the hefty mug¨Ccarved of wood and trimmed with metal¨Cand shoved it under the tap. Then I flipped the tap, watching a frothy liquid I suspected was ale slowly fill up the tankard.


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    When I was done, I handed it to Cylrit. The man took it awkwardly, seeming uncertain of how to hold it. I followed suit with my own tankard, staring at the bubbles once I was finished.


    Cylrit finally managed to work up enough courage to sit himself down awkwardly on the barstool next to me. The unfortunate stool creaked as the mage in full metal plate armor settled onto it.


    ¡°This does not make sense,¡± Cylrit finally said into the void of silence between us. ¡°For such concoctions to affect mages of our strength, only the entire barrel would suffice.¡±


    I took a sip of the ale. It tasted like piss, but ale always did.


    I set the tankard down as I chortled with amusement. ¡°It¡¯s not really about getting drunk.¡±


    Cylrit stiffly took a sip of his own tankard, and I watched with humor as his face wrinkled in distaste. He had enough manners to set the cup back down on the bar with perfect precision, but his face looked exactly like someone who had never tasted bottom-shelf ale in their lives.


    ¡°If I did not know any better, Toren Daen, I would suspect you of attempting to poison me,¡± he said with sharp disgust. ¡°That was the worst thing I have ever tasted.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°Is drinking that piss water worse than telling me what we¡¯re here for?¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s face fell. This time, he grasped the handle of the mug and took a more hearty sip, not displaying an ounce of the discomfort he must be feeling as he swallowed. ¡°I think I understand a modicum of your thought process now, Toren Daen,¡± he said sharply as he stared at the mug.


    ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s easier to do something difficult when you¡¯re already doing something hard,¡± I said wryly, taking a pull of my ale.


    Cylrit stared at the table, unnaturally rigid as the world seemed to spin everywhere but at our end of the bar. More and more dwarves swarmed the counter for a refill from the barrel, but they avoided us like a cloud of bees buzzing around smoke.


    ¡°My mother was a pleasure slave,¡± he eventually said, his eyes clouded. ¡°The gladiatorial pits in Victorious are a brutal, horrible place to live. But it is even worse for the weak¨Cand if you are a woman and lose your fights¨Cthere is only one fate for you.¡±


    I focused intently on Cylrit as I maintained the sound barrier, watching as he took another careful sip of his ale. He was remarkably calm and even as he spoke, though I had no doubt that each word was like wrenching a dagger from a wound.


    ¡°I manifested early, but did not know my father. And once my mother died, I inherited her debts. Something about disrespecting a powerful Named Blood had landed her there.¡± Cylrit shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t remember her.¡±


    I opened my mouth, then frowned. ¡°Wait, you never met her? But you were¡­¡±


    ¡°We were separated when I was born,¡± the man explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. ¡°I don¡¯t know what her name was, either. The masters of the pits never informed me.¡±


    This time, I took a harder pull of my ale, feeling its burn as it trailed down my throat. Silence trailed in the wake of Cylrit¡¯s revelation as I tried to process it.


    I was lucky enough to have Aurora to guide me when I first came to this world, I thought, frowning at the drink in my tankard. But Cylrit didn¡¯t have anyone?


    ¡°How did you learn, then? How did you grow?¡± I asked, feeling sympathy for the man I was tentatively willing to call a friend. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine it, Cylrit.¡±


    ¡°It is not something for which I should be pitied, Spellsong,¡± he grunted. ¡°I am the man I am today because of the experiences of those pits. The organizers and those who ran the bloodsport knew something more of my father¡¯s lineage than I did, so they had me trained from the moment I could hold a blade.¡±


    Cylrit sipped at his ale, his gaze contemplative. His intent was lacking entirely in sorrow or any sort of sadness as he spoke, recounting his memories as if they were barely of note.


    ¡°I killed my first mana beast when I reached the age of six. I ended my first life when I was eight. Up and up I went. I got better at killing. I got better at making it bloody, too. That¡¯s what made the crowds roar.¡±


    I worked my jaw, feeling a bit uncomfortable at how simply the Retainer said such things. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, Cylrit,¡± I said slowly, ¡°I am sorry that you had to experience such hardship.¡±


    He actually chuckled a little bit at that. ¡°A soft south indeed. I worried for a long time that you would have the spine to do what is necessary in war with how quickly you are to offer your sympathies when they are unneeded.¡±


    My discomfort grew more as images of Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn flickered behind my eyes. I looked back at the bar table as the sounds of dwarves growing intoxicated faded away into the background. ¡°I can sense the emotions of everyone around me, Cylrit,¡± I said in quiet response. ¡°Even in subtle ways, the world always reacts to the emotions of mages. And always, those senses flow back into me. I know what other people are feeling.¡±


    My eyes unfocused slightly as memories of that first battle in Burim flowed back through me like grains of sand in an hourglass. ¡°Especially when they die. That¡¯s when people¡¯s emotions really¡­ burst, before there¡¯s nothing at all. It¡¯s as if the person knows that they¡¯ll never experience anything ever again, so they try so desperately to experience it all at once. But I¡¯ve found that it¡¯s mostly regret and despair in the end, never peace.¡±


    That might have simply been because I¡¯d been an invoker of despair whenever I slew those in my path. A harbinger of Alacrya coming to wash away all the defenders knew. My fingers tensed over the handle of my mug, and I felt the sudden longing to down it all in one, monstrous gulp.


    I refused that urge. That was dangerous.


    ¡°It¡¯s part of why I value sympathizing with people, Cylrit. Because I hope that I can be a little spot of warmth somewhere in the places where there might be regrets.¡±


    Silence reigned between us for a short time. The Retainer swirled the swill in his tankard, looking at it. ¡°I apologize for the harshness of my words, Spellsong,¡± he said simply. ¡°I did not understand. That is likely why we are here in the first place.¡±


    I shifted uncomfortably. This time, I didn¡¯t have anything to say.


    ¡°I was good at my sport, Toren Daen. Exceptional, even. For years, I was the best the pits could offer. In fact, my acts were grand enough to draw the attention of a Scythe,¡± Cylrit said sternly.


    ¡°Seris took you from there,¡± I said slowly, connecting the dots.


    Cylrit nodded curtly. ¡°She did. In the aftermath of the Redfeud War, my master visited the pits and freed me personally¨Cbut no others. And for years, I wondered why I alone was freed from my chains. It was true that I had proven my worth in combat; that I showed exceptional ability and talent. But there were others that would have been apt additions to Master Seris¡¯ retinue.¡±


    Cylrit finally turned to look at me, his eyes hard. ¡°It was not hard for me to realize who my father was, Toren Daen. The resemblance is too uncanny; the circumstances too clear. He was a champion of violence and a savage among savages, just as I had become.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s hand clenched around the handle of his mug imperceptibly, and I feared it might break from how rigidly he clutched it. ¡°Kelagon, former Scythe of Vechor and warmonger,¡± he said with a sneer.


    I took a liberal gulp of my own drink at this revelation, wondering how it all fit together. Seris had slain Kelagon, hadn¡¯t she? Torn his head from his shoulders?


    My mind flashed back to the Summit so many months ago, where I¡¯d met all the Scythes and Retainers in Alacrya as a god decided the fate of Dicathen. And just outside that meeting hall, portraits of a hundred battles stood arrayed in a macabre display of victory.


    Seris¡¯ sneer as she hefted Kelagon¡¯s horrified skull drifted through my thoughts like a shadow.


    ¡°Why would Seris take the bastard son of her slain enemy as Retainer?¡± I asked, frowning as I tried to parse the reason from what I knew of my lover.


    ¡°Because I remind my master of war,¡± Cylrit¡¯s smooth voice cut through my thoughts like a blade through flesh. ¡°Because when she sees me, she sees Kelagon, and remembers what she could become if she ever strayed too far.¡±


    Cylrit pushed his mug away, and I could see his desires in the set of his shoulders. He wanted to slump, wanted to bend under the weights that burdened him at all times. But he could not, would not. This man was rigid as stone. ¡°But she suffers for it. She never allows herself to live a true life, and never takes caution for her own well-being. But that has begun to change.¡±


    Cylrit shoved a gauntleted finger into my chest. ¡°You bring out emotion in her, Toren Daen. In a way I never could¨Cbecause I am a quiet reminder. A cautionary tale made manifest.¡±


    I stared at the frothing bubbles of my ale, suddenly feeling far from thirsty. I found myself thinking of all the times I¡¯d coaxed Seris out of her comfort zone, pulling her toward full emotion. She had indeed been so suppressed. As if she wouldn¡¯t even let herself feel out of fear. Fear of becoming like Kelagon.


    Her greatest fear is herself, I thought darkly, because she fears becoming Agrona.


    We sat there in silence for a long time. No more words needed to be said, not really. Even as the dwarves around us slowly drank themselves into stupor as the hour ticked by, we stayed alone with our thoughts.


    ¡°That¡¯s where the shield came from, then?¡± I eventually asked, referencing the towering construct of metal I¡¯d thrown into the ocean. ¡°And that shortsword. Those were your weapons back during your time in those pits?¡±


    Cylrit didn¡¯t reply for a moment. ¡°One of my regalias allows me to create unique weapons, and over time, imbue them with more and more magic. The more I use and imbue, the stronger they become.¡± S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I blinked in surprise, then felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I recognized what this implied. ¡°The shield that I destroyed,¡± I started guiltily, ¡°was it¡­ uh¡­¡±


    Cylrit exhaled slowly through his nose, like a bull prepared for a charge. Yet the Retainer seemed calm despite this. ¡°There were many decades worth of imbuement in that particular construct,¡± he said sharply. ¡°But my greatsword is where the majority of my focus has been for the past decades. You did not hamper my abilities, Spellsong, and I invited your challenge.¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, but I stopped as I turned my head. A familiar, dark heartbeat was approaching this bar at an absurd speed, and from the slightly heightened nature of the heartfire in my ear, I could tell they were nervous about something.


    I slowly slid off my stool, pursing my lips as I finally realized a few implications of Cylrit and I¡¯s spar that I had ignored before. ¡°Hey, Cylrit?¡± I asked. ¡°What are we going to say to Seris when she asks about our spar?¡±


    Seris was supposed to be on the Isle of the Earthmother, preparing the Alacryan installations there for the influx of new troops that should be here in four or five days. But as a familiar intent now also threaded across my senses, I knew that wasn¡¯t the case right now.


    Cylrit caught onto my implication quickly as he noticed my focus on the door. We shared a single look of understanding as Seris¡¯ mana signature closed in. This stayed between us.


    When Seris pressed open the doors of the tavern, it appeared as if the reaper herself had come to claim her due from all who had been too careless with their drink. Her aura wasn¡¯t as condensed and hidden as Cylrit¡¯s and mine, which was by intention. As the moon-blessed mage strode into the dingy bar, I felt a spark of deep pity for the patrons who were currently struggling to breathe.


    ¡°Toren, Cylrit,¡± Seris said sharply, ignoring all the dwarves and men around her who struggled under the subconscious effects of her aura, ¡°with me. Now,¡± she said in a tone that brooked no refusal.


    I set my mug of ale down¨Cnot even half-emptied¨Cas I followed after the swiftly retreating Scythe. She didn¡¯t display it outwardly, but I could sense her agitation and anxiety as I followed her out of the bar. Cylrit was quiet as a grave as he marched like a prisoner on death row beside me.


    The late afternoon sun was still high in the sky, but it felt far later to me. I followed silently after Seris as she marched along the pier, my hands shoved in my pockets.


    Finally, I couldn¡¯t withstand the silence anymore. ¡°Seris, Cylrit and I were simply having a spar,¡± I said, hoping to assuage her worries. ¡°Nothing that could cause harm. If it upset you so much, it wasn¡¯t our intent,¡± I said with only partial honesty. Cylrit had swatted me out of the sky like a fly, and I was sure there was still a red splatter on his greatsword from the impact.


    Nothing like nearly-permanent brain damage to make a fight interesting.


    Seris halted in her steps, the swish-swish-swish of her dark battledress halting abruptly as she turned slightly, raising a silver brow. Her piercing eyes, as always, seemed to dig into my soul. ¡°That¡¯s not why we¡¯re here, Toren. Something of extreme import has put a damper on my plans,¡± she said, ¡°but do tell me more about your ¡®spar.¡¯ Is there anything you two want to tell me?¡± she asked, her eyes darting between me and her Retainer.


    Oh, shit, I thought, realizing that I had basically just dug my own grave. It seemed that if I had just stayed silent, I would¡¯ve avoided being picked apart like a hawk by Seris¡¯ too-knowing eyes. I coughed nervously, my eyes drifting toward the decimated sections of the dock of their own accord.


    Seris, predictably, followed my gaze. Because she could read me like a book.


    Her eyebrows rose high enough to scrape her bangs, and when she looked back at us, I had the distinct feeling of being a child again, being scolded by an adult after scuffling with my brother. Cylrit had simply become a statue again, so abnormally still I wasn¡¯t even certain he was breathing. If I couldn¡¯t hear his heartfire, I¡¯d be worried for his health.


    ¡°Spellsong wished to test the limits of his abilities in the wake of his ascension to the white core,¡± Cylrit lied through his teeth, pointedly not looking at his master, and also throwing me under the bus. ¡°I assisted in this endeavor. Nothing more.¡±


    Asshole, I thought, again reevaluating my opinion of the Retainer. You¡¯re the one who instigated it!


    I thought I could hear Aurora laughing as Seris clearly didn¡¯t buy Cylrit¡¯s words. The man was an even stiffer liar than I was.


    Does Seris just pick people who can¡¯t lie to her? I thought, looking in the opposite direction of the Retainer. That doesn¡¯t seem fair.


    Seris practically radiated suspicion now, but she shook her head dismissively. ¡°We can discuss whatever this was later,¡± she said with a wave of her hand, beginning to rise into the air slightly. ¡°Plans are changing now. My scouts have reported that the fleet of reinforcements will be here within the next hour or so, far ahead of schedule.¡±


    I frowned, not seeing why this warranted such seriousness from the Scythe. ¡°There¡¯s something about this I¡¯m missing. I don¡¯t see why it¡¯s causing you such stress. They¡¯re ahead of schedule. That¡¯s good, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked.


    Seris shook her head. ¡°Sometimes I forget that you can only read my emotions and not my thoughts,¡± she said. ¡°But there are many reasons this is important, Toren. First and foremost, several of my sources gave me a specific arrival date¨Ceach independently of the other. They all agreed that the earliest our reinforcements should arrive would be within four or five days. But they were all wrong.¡±


    ¡°She suspects foul play,¡± Aurora cut in. ¡°But this isn¡¯t all. There¡¯s more to this.¡±


    I agreed with my bond. And a moment later, Seris confirmed my suspicions.¡°My scouts also reported something else that wasn¡¯t relayed to me originally.¡± Her onyx eyes darkened as they stared into my own. ¡°At the head of this fleet is another Scythe.¡±

 Chapter 231: Puppeteer

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    I floated ever-so-slightly above the docks, refactoring and re-evaluating my current knowledge like clockwork. I was hyper-aware of Toren and Cylrit below me, each like a pillar of silent resolve.


    I¡¯d rushed to Burim as quick as I could manage after my scouts reported sightings of an incoming fleet¨Cthe reinforcements that were due in several days. But instead of joy and relief, this news only sparked concern and worry.


    I had several ties back to the mainland of Alacrya where I received semi-regular updates using communication artifacts and intermittent messages. There was a relay of steamships across the ocean that allowed the transport of information from Taegrin Caelum directly to me.


    The High Sovereign would not allow us to stray too far from his touch.


    This could simply be a coincidence. Perhaps the fleet encountered a stretch of calm sea that allowed for faster travel. They could have braved more dangerous ocean currents for a swifter trip.


    But I did not rise to my current station by believing in coincidences. Paranoia drove my plans onward, and this was no exception.


    And there was purportedly another Scythe on the ships. I had been told that only another Retainer would be sent to bolster our numbers in the war. But that was also wrong.


    It reeked of a setup. Of intentional misdirection. Someone had played me, maneuvering my sources of information and seeking to undermine my expectations for the war.


    The wind stilled as the steamships finally crested the horizon, inching like inevitable dreadnoughts toward the Bay of Burim. Around me, what few troops I¡¯d managed to call together as a welcoming party shuffled nervously. The sun hid behind blankets of clouds, as unhappy with this development as I was.


    As the chugging sound of the engines gradually approached over the course of the next few minutes, the tension seemed to grow. The arrival of these ships was a silent message from Agrona to the pitiable Triunion Council: the war was going to begin in earnest. And everyone around me knew it.


    A musical note brushed against my ear, soft yet serious as mana coiled. ¡°Seris,¡± Toren¡¯s voice said, carried by sound magic, ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you need me to. The last time such a confrontation happened, you sent me away to reinforce your needs. I want you to know that I¡¯ll do whatever it takes for you in this¡­ confrontation.¡±


    Unbidden, a slight smile stretched across my face at the earnesty in Toren¡¯s words. Such an honest man, my Spellsong was. We had faced some difficulties after my earlier manipulations of him in the wake of the war summit. For the mage to place himself so willingly in the palm of my hand made something in my chest smolder with reassuring heat.


    My eyes stayed focused on the horizon as the steamships coasted forward, but when I whispered my response, I knew Toren could hear it. ¡°This meeting shall be different than the last,¡± I said into the wind. ¡°I cannot deny or brush away your importance any longer, Toren. Too many stories of the Ascender and the Sorceress abound for that. But I will need to maneuver you regardless.¡±


    I paused as I sensed a familiar mana signature rising into the air from the ships. Dark and ominous, it seeped like molten tar around us all. Not quite aggressive¡ªnot yet. But taunting. Provocative.


    And as I locked eyes with the approaching Scythe, I knew for certain that I had been played.


    Viessa Vritra dressed in paradoxically bright colors, the teal and white of her blouse making the shifting tides of her deep purple hair seem more ominous and consuming. She drifted like a wraith over the waves as she approached like a general leading the charge.


    Viessa was the Scythe I was least sure of among them all¨Cand I had no doubt that was by her intention. She practically puppeteered Scythe Melzri, and through her, the Dominion of Etril as well. She never took action herself, only using those around her to play out her schemes in her stead.


    Which meant that her current approach heralded something outside my expectations and plans.


    She stopped a dozen yards away from me, her eyes empty and devoid of any sort of emotion. The vertebrae of a dozen broken foes hung macabrely across her body, a living testament to her victories.


    ¡°Seris,¡± she said simply, tilting her head.


    ¡°Viessa,¡± I said in turn, my expression smooth as marble.


    The other Scythe shifted slightly in the air, observing the lumbering masses of metal as they approached the harbor. Like great beasts of wrought iron, they cast shadows as deep as the towers of Taegrin Caelum as they vomited black smoke into the sky.


    ¡°Wonderful inventions, these steamships,¡± Viessa said. ¡°They make war so much more dynamic.¡± She swept her gaze across the retinue gathered behind me, and she focused with eerie intensity on Toren.


    ¡°And it seems everyone is here to welcome me to this battlefront,¡± she said, smiling in a manner that was almost sweet. The way her eyes seemed to shine as they centered on Toren made unease grow in my gut. ¡°I¡¯ll need to get well-acquainted with the lessers of this city once my troops occupy it.¡±


    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± I countered sharply, rising slightly. I couldn¡¯t afford to rebuff my Truacian counterpart too quickly, lest she perceive weakness or an avenue of attack. But I also could not let her exert her authority without reprisal over my territory. ¡°I have spent the last several days making preparations for your arrival,¡± I said, giving no indication of my surprise at her presence in this war. ¡°The Isle of the Earthmother will be your staging ground, and you will find food and shelter for your troops there.¡±


    Viessa was silent for a moment as she finally turned her attention back to me. ¡°Are you saying that we cannot land here, on our shores?¡± she said with a subtle downturn of her lips that was almost a sneer.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± I countered, a carefully crafted smirk deflecting Viessa¡¯s scowl. ¡°But I have spent the last several weeks turning that island into an unassailable fortress precisely for this moment.¡± I shook my head slowly. ¡°If you wish for something more lavish, I¡¯m certain it can be arranged.¡±


    Viessa sighed dramatically, finally lowering slightly in the air. From the edges of my perception, I noticed two significant mana signatures within the hulls of the nearby ships. Two Retainers instead of just one.


    The Truacian Scythe¡¯s empty eyes gave nothing away as I shifted my focus. ¡°Cylrit, you will assist our reinforcements in their landing and ensure they follow customs. Give them the courtesy that befits Sehz-Clar.¡±


    Cylrit bowed deeply. ¡°As you command, my master,¡± he said sharply, before hovering toward the approaching ships.


    ¡°Toren Daen,¡± I said next, turning my attention to the deft musician, ¡°you will inform our dwarven allies of these new arrivals. Ensure they do not misstep.¡±


    Toren pieced apart my meaning swiftly enough. He didn¡¯t bow low in subservience as Cylrit had, but he did give me a respectful nod. ¡°Of course, Seris,¡± he said, before lifting into the air under the effects of the ambient mana. He flew back toward the cavern with a grace and ease that belied the recency of his ascension to the white core.


    I turned back to Viessa, taking note of her expression as she watched Toren fly away. Her brows furrowed slightly in surprise as he went, but she noticed my attention too quickly for me to pick apart anymore.


    She was surprised by the fact that Toren could fly, I thought, marking this information away. She didn¡¯t expect him to be a white core mage. That means that there is still some information free of Agrona¡¯s clutches, or at least if the High Sovereign does know of Toren¡¯s current power, he has not informed his Scythes.


    ¡°You¡¯ve learned to control the men around you well, Seris,¡± Viessa said, approval clear in her tone. ¡°They are all the same, after all, and we are women of power. I should know better than all how this works. I have peered into the minds of so many.¡±


    Her eyes lingered on Toren¡¯s back in a way that made goosebumps rise along my flesh. ¡°But that¡¯s the thing about those simple creatures. When something more enticing shows itself, they¡¯ll turn tail so quickly.¡±


    The implications were not lost on me, and I actually chuckled at the suggestion. Viessa Vritra thought she knew people, but she clearly did not if she believed that all men would bow and scrape at the barest tease of flesh.


    I do need to be wary of foul play, however, I thought, shifting my perspective of Viessa slightly. She certainly was not interested in Toren for the reasons she implied. I recalled that she had goaded Toren for his use of emotional music far back in the summit. Considering how hyperfocused she was on Toren, going so far as to direct Melzri¡­


    ¡°We should have a proper discussion on how we shall cooperate in this war, should we not?¡± I said, beginning to drift back toward the yawning cavern of Burim as Viessa schooled her own mild surprise. I needed to move this conversation somewhere I could more deftly control.


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    ¡°Yes indeed,¡± Viessa said in reply, moving to hover beside me. ¡°I wonder what you have done with these lessers in the time since you¡¯ve conquered them. They do need to be forced into shape, yet there have been very few reports found back in Alacrya of your movements after the capture of this¡­ hole in the wall,¡± the dark-haired Scythe said with mild disgust.


    ¡°You would do well to recognize the tenacity of the dwarves, Viessa,¡± I chided lightly as we drifted into the cavern. The hanging lavaducts glowed slightly in the darkness as red-hot molten rock flowed along a hundred crisscrossing pathways. ¡°A war is lost when the enemy is underestimated.¡±


    I could read nothing from Viessa¡¯s grave-cold face as she inspected the cavern of Burim. ¡°There is a difference between facing a worthy foe and pushing aside diseased apes,¡± she said disdainfully. ¡°You know this of course, don¡¯t you?¡± Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I affected a sigh as we neared the Divot. ¡°Your previous Retainer, Jagrette, thought the same, and she paid for it,¡± I countered simply. ¡°We all know what became of her corpse. These Dicathians are more tenacious than they let on.¡±


    Viessa went silent as we touched down on one of the landing areas. I should have felt a measure of satisfaction from winning the verbal spar, but I knew I couldn¡¯t afford to perceive that as a victory.


    The battle hadn¡¯t yet begun.


    The trek to my quarters was short and swift. The Divot was staffed nearly entirely with Alacryan troops and servants, and they all shied away and bowed their heads as Viessa and I strode through the halls.


    I knew the Scythe could pick apart minds with one of her runes, but I didn¡¯t know the range or power it held. Nonetheless, I led her along a route that was purposefully lacking in personnel and staff. I wouldn¡¯t allow her easy access to the thoughts of my troops.


    When we entered my chambers, I waved my hand absently. Fires bloomed around the room as mana-imbibed artifacts responded to a flex of my will, and the lavish room was awash with dim orange light. I fondly remembered the night I¡¯d spent here with Toren not long ago as he¡¯d finally told me of his secrets.


    But not all of them.


    I forced those thoughts aside as I slid into the chaise lounge comfortably, raising a brow as Viessa sat in an opposing chair. A short table separated us, and packets of tea leaves and cups were prepared in advance.


    ¡°It is a dim and dark place,¡± I said, ¡°but not unwelcoming, once you adjust. The dwarves have adapted their primitive technology quite well to suit their needs.¡±


    Viessa focused on the fire lamps, clicking her tongue. I could tell she wanted to say something scathing about the artifacts, but she¡¯d already lost that battle of wits. ¡°You¡¯ve made yourself quite the little kingdom here,¡± she said instead. ¡°Complete with subjects and all. I never dipped my fingers too deeply into the politics of Sehz-Clar, but this is very different, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    That was a lie. Viessa was a creature of politics and manipulation, and she¡¯d muddied the waters of more political cases than I could count. I pushed and prodded at the goings-on of Truacia often enough, but I was far more subtle. ¡°This is war, Viessa,¡± I said simply. ¡°War at the behest of our High Sovereign. I wouldn¡¯t dare fail him.¡±


    Viessa laughed lightly as she shifted in her chair. Her makeup was pristine and perfect in the low light, but the pose she took seemed more and more artificial the longer I inspected her. Her motions were fluid, certainly, but they were a predetermined kind of movement. Like she¡¯d practiced the exact placement of each of her fingers across her lap a hundred times.


    It wasn¡¯t graceful, but mechanical.


    ¡°And you¡¯ve already experienced losses,¡± Viessa said, her dark lips pursing. ¡°My Jagrette fell so soon in battle, and then was used like some sort of puppet to prop up the false hopes of this continent¡¯s petty nobles,¡± she said, no doubt aware of the hypocrisy of her statement.


    She controlled corpses, after all.


    ¡°My victories have been far more substantial than any loss,¡± I said easily, stretching my arms out and inspecting the dark paint on my nails. ¡°The High Sovereign¡¯s conquest of Darv is proceeding at an exceptional pace. My victories are his victories, of course, and I would offer nothing less.¡±


    ¡°Yet I see no Alacryan troops in the streets,¡± Viessa said in turn, crossing one leg over the other in a way that highlighted the pale skin of her thighs. ¡°This city is hardly conquered, is it? The lesser rebels are the ones who took it, not you.¡±


    I raised a silver brow, smiling coyly. ¡°A feat worthy of presenting before the High Sovereign, no? To turn our enemies against themselves. A pack of wolves cannot hunt if they are tearing at each other¡¯s throats.¡± I gestured to the low table between us, noting the tea leaves ready to strain. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you for some time,¡± I lied. ¡°Care to share a cup with me?¡±


    Viessa leaned forward, grabbing one of the packets of leaves. She inspected it critically, that default grave-blank stare returning. The Scythe was like a doll¨Cone who felt and cared for nothing, but had mastered the art of pretending to be human. ¡°No, I don¡¯t drink things like this, Seris,¡± she said. ¡°Should you bring me a cup of the lesser¡¯s blood, then maybe I¡¯d consider it.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t tell whether the purple-haired Scythe was making an attempt at humor or was serious. I suspected it was both. ¡°Very well then. I think it''s high time we spoke of what¡¯s to come in this war.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been assigned leadership of the front of the Beast Glades,¡± Viessa said simply, darkening my mood. ¡°I¡¯ll be moving there shortly to replace the incompetent that was Retainer Uto.¡± She clicked her tongue. ¡°With how many Victoriad duels he won, I would have thought the brute would be able to put up a fight against a petty lesser. But it just goes to show that not all of us are worthy of the Sovereign¡¯s blood.¡°


    I felt a grim amusement at Viessa¡¯s dismissive tone. Uto was a crass monster, and I¡¯d savored piercing his core. None could be more deserving of the torture the Triunion Council had in store. But I also felt a deep uncertainty as my thoughts caught on another bit of information. ¡°The Beast Glades, you say?¡± I pressed. ¡°I¡¯ve been maintaining control and progressing our operations there smoothly for some time. What warrants this change?¡±


    Wolfrum Redwater, as far as I was aware, was still at large in the Beast Glades. My network had lost track of him and the remnants of the Bastards Victorious as they¡¯d disappeared into the forests, but I knew deep in my core that they were still alive. And though Wolfrum had no concrete proof of my plans, just the hint of them could make certain people peer too deeply at things they shouldn¡¯t.


    I couldn¡¯t let Viessa take control of these operations.


    ¡°The High Sovereign himself set me on this path,¡± Viessa said with a blank expression. ¡°He¡¯s ready to enter the next phase of this war, Seris, and that means that plans will evolve and change with the times.¡±


    Those words caused a chill to flow through my body. I openly frowned as I gave myself time to process this new information. Agrona¡¯s plans had changed? They did that often enough, but there was something ominous deep in my gut that told me this was different. I imagined the vise-like grip of Agrona¡¯s gray hand as it slowly squeezed Dicathen of blood, siphoning everything away into his maw.


    Viessa couldn¡¯t be allowed to lay her claws on Wolfrum Redwater, but neither could I defy a direct order from Agrona himself. There was a fine line I needed to thread, but¨C


    ¡°You¡¯re expressive, Seris,¡± Viessa said, a false amusement pervading her voice. ¡°So much more so than ever before. It¡¯s so strange, seeing you frown and look discontented.¡±


    I focused on my Truacian counterpart once more, tilting my head at her words. I needed more time to think of a plan to counteract her orders, and she¡¯d just provided me with a perfect distraction. ¡°Interesting that you should say that, Viessa,¡± I said, raising a single brow. ¡°I can hardly say the same for you. When I see you, I wonder how much is wax sculpture and how much is true flesh from the expressions on your painted face.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s eyes narrowed deliberately, and I thought I¡¯d struck a nerve. Good. ¡°Oh, Seris. You¡¯re so used to knowing everything. Ever since you emerged onto the stage of this continent from under our High Sovereign¡¯s cloak so long ago, you¡¯ve thought of yourself as someone truly worthy of his blood,¡± the teal-cloaked Scythe sighed. ¡°I do wonder what will be painted across your face as this war progresses. There are things in store that I¡¯m sure will surprise even you. Agrona has great plans for this continent, and we¡¯re all here to play them out.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s words lingered in the air like razor wire as they settled in. Inadvertently, I found myself reliving old memories. Memories from nearly a century ago, where I¡¯d faced Agrona and the Sovereign of Sehz-Clar regularly. Where they pushed and pushed and¨C


    I moved myself away from the memories with the clinical precision of one who regularly ignored a tear in a dress or a spot of dark paint on a canvas of vivid colors. I could quell old, glaring wounds with ease. I¡¯d done it for decades.


    But as I forced myself away from those memories, a more nauseating possibility settled into place. The Scythe across from me was taunting in her little way. Trying to tease at my ego.


    And I¡¯d assumed that the arrival of a Scythe and two Retainers was a deliberate deception to throw my plans into disarray. I was still certain of that: but I¡¯d assumed the source was the doll-faced Scythe across from me. But she wasn¡¯t touting her arrival and actions as her own.


    But if it was the High Sovereign intentionally suppressing information from reaching me¡­


    ¡°None of us can foresee His plans in full,¡± I said at last, choosing my words carefully. ¡°But even so, there must be rules between us, Viessa. I will deliver my reports and information on the Beast Glades to you, along with a catalog of all that I¡¯ve done so far so that you may more efficiently carry on.¡±


    I inspected my nails in the low firelight, noting the dark paint. Toren seemed to like the aesthetic, as did I, so I¡¯d been making an effort to dress myself accordingly.


    If you were in the room with this mannequin, I thought as I internally rehearsed my next sentence, what would you be able to divine, my Spellsong?


    Rumors said Viessa was broken. Haunted whispers told of nights in a dungeon spent under Sovereign Orlaeth¡¯s thought-melding touch in a swath of cruel experiments. I wondered, absently, what part of the Truacian Scythe¡¯s mind Orlaeth broke like a toy.


    I would need to keep Toren close in my future political engagements¨Cfor more reasons than one. His ability to decipher the emotions of others was invaluable, and though I¡¯d intentionally sent him away this particular time, it wouldn¡¯t be so moving forward. I wondered if those rumors held weight, after all.


    ¡°You are to take command of the Beast Glades, but my focus is still on the land of the dwarves. If we wish for a smooth victory, then there must be an agreement of noninterference between us as we enact our designs in the High Sovereign¡¯s name.¡± I lowered my hand, peering at Viessa. ¡°I assume this is acceptable?¡±


    Viessa watched me with eerie intensity. ¡°As you say, Seris,¡± she said. ¡°Already, Dominions are starting to form. How quickly this continent conforms to the designs of our god¡­ It is interesting, once you start to notice the patterns. Noninterference it is, then.¡±


    I smiled slightly. We both may have agreed to noninterference, but what we had truly agreed on was to make all of our interferences subtle and disguisable. Viessa¡¯s comparison to Dominions was apt. Outwardly, political interference between domains was outlawed and heavily punished.


    That just meant you couldn¡¯t be caught.


    I unfolded my legs as I gradually stood, sensing this conversation was coming to an end. ¡°I wish you luck in your endeavors, Viessa,¡± I lied to the purple-haired necromancer. ¡°It seems this war will be progressing faster than I had anticipated.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s smile was like the corpses that followed in her wake. The vertebrae that adorned her body rattled and shook as she stood in turn. ¡°Indeed, Seris,¡± she said primly. ¡±I cannot wait to see how the stage plays out.¡±

 Chapter 232: Changing Tactics

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    My thoughts were awhirl as I floated through Burim, this new development settling like a ship at the bottom of a sea. Aurora¡¯s relic¡ªin Puppet Form, of course¡ªfloated around me in circles. Aurora was blessedly silent, allowing me to parse this change.


    I made a beeline for a specific building on the edges of the Divot, one that was surprisingly small and nondescript. The simple home carved from a looming stalactite appeared paltry and pathetic compared to the rest of the grand entrances and glittering opulence of the Divot around it.


    I tapped down outside, acknowledging the two heartfires I felt within. I needed to talk to one of them, but I needed a moment to gather myself first.


    In the original canon of The Beginning After the End, additional Scythes were only introduced near the end of the main conflict¨Cnamely, Nico and Cadell.


    Alone, they had been enough to steamroll the entire resistance Dicathen could field. I momentarily found myself fearing that was what was going to happen now.


    Viessa Vritra was powerful. She was one of the deadliest of the Scythes, and the two Retainers accompanying her¡ªone of them familiar¡ªmade me uneasy.


    Is Agrona already planning to finish this war? I thought nervously, tapping my foot. So soon? Did I alter the timeline that much already?


    ¡°Peace, Toren,¡± Aurora¡¯s soothing voice said as she settled on my shoulder. ¡°You do not know enough to make conclusions. Perhaps the High Sovereign seeks to level this continent already. Perhaps he wishes to open another front. Likely, it is something neither of us can fathom. But there is one certainty in this world: to ponder this too deeply without the full array of information will only serve to harm you rather than help.¡±


    I exhaled, finally settling my nerves. My bond was right. I¡¯d realized long ago that trying to keep track of every change I made and keep the future exactly as I wanted would only lead to madness. I took solace in the fact that, even if Agrona opted to end the war right now, it wouldn¡¯t be so simple to capture Tessia Eralith any longer.


    And above even that, I trusted Seris. I trusted her plans and her designs for the future. Whatever came, we could face it together.


    Thank you, Aurora, I thought as I stepped forward, the sound of my shoes on the cobblestones echoing out in little clicks. The warmth of my bond was a constant reassurance. That no matter what happened, I would have her by my side. I¡¯ll need to try and figure this out later.


    My bond sent a wave of affirmation as I stepped toward the simple hovel. The scent of rare earth spices and minerals brushed against my nose like a smothering blanket before I adjusted. I waved it away as I knocked crisply on the door.


    ¡°Olfred,¡± I said aloud, ¡°we need to talk. There¡¯s something urgent going on right now, and you¡¯ll need to act.¡±


    No response. Nothing to indicate I¡¯d been heard, or that there was even anyone home.


    Except I could feel both heartfires within¨Ceach distinct.


    ¡°Olfred,¡± I said more sharply. ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to, but¨C¡±


    ¡°Come in, Spellsong,¡± an unfamiliar voice echoed out, catching me by surprise. ¡°We were waiting for you.¡±


    I felt my brow furrow at the voice. It was scratchy from disuse, as if whoever had spoken hadn¡¯t drunk a drop of water for days. And though I¡¯d never heard the voice, I knew immediately who it was. After all, there was only one other person inside the hovel.


    I hesitated for only a moment, wondering what this could be about, before I finally pushed the door open. As I stepped inside, I gave the room a cursory inspection.


    The inside of the hovel was just as quaint and unassuming as the outside. A desk sat against one hollowed-out wall, a stack of unread papers littering the conjured earth. I noticed a few cooking pots in a far-off kitchen, and the lingering smoke of a cookfire told me they¡¯d been used recently.


    It made me think of the old depictions of hobbit holes from my previous life. Homely and earthy, with bright tones that reminded me of autumn leaves and a quiet night reading by a fire.


    But my attention was drawn to another chamber: one that held both the waiting heartfires. I slowed in my stride as I walked, feeling a rise of guilt as I finally laid eyes on the one who had called me. He lay prone in a bed, leaning wearily against a layer of rough cushions that propped him up in a sitting position.


    The first thing I thought when I met Rahdeas¡¯ gaze was that the dwarf looked old.


    I¡¯d met many people across my lives, both on Earth and Dicathen. No small few of those had been the aged and elderly. I¡¯d visited retirement homes in my previous life; watched people as they slowly lost themselves to decay and failing memory. It was a wrenching, horrible thing to witness.


    Rahdeas didn¡¯t look like the withered, still-living corpses I¡¯d known in nursing homes. He didn¡¯t have a full head of gray hair, or innumerable wrinkles that marked his face. Though his body was stick-thin from malnourishment, I could still see the ghost of the man he had once been. His healthy bulk and solid build echoed from the past.


    No, it was his eyes that were old. They didn¡¯t seem to be staring at me, not really. They stared past me into the empty space beyond, not quite acknowledging my existence. The dwarf had the gaze of a man not just lost in thought, but trapped in his own mind.


    The second thing I felt upon seeing Rahdeas was guilt. I¡¯d attempted to heal the damage the Triunion torturers had done to this man¡¯s mind, but it was there that I learned the mind was no simple thing to heal.


    If I wanted to even heal something in the mind, I needed to truly understand the damage. But what set apart mental trauma from normal experience? If I somehow figured out how to wash away trauma, was I just removing a fundamental part of someone? What separated healing an injury from carving out a limb?


    Such distinctions were far simpler when it came to the body.


    But with the mind, I didn¡¯t know. And part of me feared trying to learn. Such limitations halted me from truly helping Rahdeas.


    It took a moment to push away that seeping guilt. There were always patients I might fail to save, injuries I might fail to heal. And just like with the future of Dicathen, focusing on it unendingly would only drive me mad.


    ¡°Hello, Elder Rahdeas,¡± I said respectfully, not expecting a response. The dwarf hadn¡¯t exactly been lucid since his return, as far as I was aware. ¡°I¡¯m just here to leave a message with Olfred,¡± I said, my eyes flicking to the Lance, who was sitting at the bedside and giving the old Elder a strange look. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your¨C¡±


    ¡°Things aren¡¯t as you expected, are they, Spellsong?¡± Rahdeas interrupted, his eyes briefly focusing on me.


    I slowly closed my mouth, my brow furrowing. I shared a glance with Olfred, who looked more worried than anything. ¡°You¡¯ll need to define things, Elder Rahdeas,¡± I eventually said, uncertain of how lucid the man was.


    In original canon, Rahdeas had been surprisingly coherent when speaking with Arthur, but I¡¯d seen none of that in the short time I¡¯d interacted with the dwarf the first time. I was still wondering if I¡¯d been duped somehow and the dwarf was maintaining some sort of facade when he spoke next.


    ¡°Darv,¡± Rahdeas croaked simply. ¡°It isn¡¯t what you expected as an Alacryan, is it?¡±


    I blinked in genuine surprise, drawn up short by this response. I flashed back to my first interactions with Jotilda Shintstone and the dwarven rebellion. I¡¯d allowed my rigid, biased view of The Beginning After the End to cloud my judgment and conceptions, but that had changed as I¡¯d witnessed the inequalities and suffering the dwarves faced.


    I¡¯d come to the conclusion that Darv¡¯s independence movement had a truly solid reason for their anger, but I still couldn¡¯t accept Rahdeas¡¯ inclusion of Alacryan forces in his plans. Perhaps the elves and humans of Dicathen had treated the dwarves poorly. But that paled in comparison to what Agrona was planning.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t,¡± I acknowledged, wondering what the point of this conversation was. I still felt on edge from the arrival of Viessa¡¯s fleet.


    Rahdeas¡¯ gaze was empty as he stared through me. ¡°What did you expect, Spellsong?¡±


    My brow creased as I thought about the question. What had I expected from Darv? From the dwarves?


    I shook my head sharply. ¡°I¡¯ll have to give you an answer to that question later, Elder,¡± I said in a quick but respectful tone. ¡°I have news to deliver to Olfred.¡±


    ¡°The war has truly begun, then?¡± Rahdeas said, shifting in his sheets. Olfred was characteristically silent as he watched the interaction between the two of us. ¡°Reinforcements have come. Your High Sovereign is done playing games with us, isn¡¯t he?¡±


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    This time, I focused my full attention on the once-councilman. ¡°How did you know that?¡± I asked sharply. Rahdeas had shown knowledge of Agrona¡¯s plans involving Nico and Arthur¨Cknowledge that had no direct source. Could he have an avenue of information that I didn¡¯t know about?


    Rahdeas simply chuckled, his loose linens shaking slightly. ¡°Surprised?¡± he prodded. ¡°I¡¯ve seen war from the sidelines before, long ago. I know what to expect.¡± He waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Regardless, I¡¯ve been talking with my son these past few days. Talking about this war. Talking about what the dwarves will do as Agrona moves.¡± His eyes, for the first time, focused on me. ¡°What you will do.¡±


    I felt goosebumps rise along my arms from the intensity of Rahdeas¡¯ stare. His gaze drifted to the clockwork bird sitting solemnly on my shoulder, and he seemed to see far too much of the little puppet.


    I carefully tore my gaze away from Rahdeas¡¯. ¡°Olfred, I¡¯ll need you to take command of what dwarves you can. Keep an eye on them and keep them in line,¡± I said, not answering the Elder¡¯s question. If all he would do was taunt me with riddles, I wasn¡¯t going to play that game.


    Olfred¡¯s face darkened. ¡°So you need someone to take the leash?¡± he asked, but it wasn¡¯t entirely spiteful. ¡°Jotilda can do it. She¡¯s enough for your needs.¡±


    I restrained my fists from clenching. I¡¯d expected this answer. Olfred didn¡¯t care for much else besides Rahdeas¡¯ orders, and even then, he¡¯d been questioning those too.


    ¡°Do as Spellsong asks, Olfred,¡± Rahdeas eventually said into the silence. ¡°Make sure our people are safe.¡±


    Olfred turned conflicted eyes toward his father. I could sense it there¨Chis confusion, uncertainty, and fear. I remembered the last talk I¡¯d had with the former Lance, where he¡¯d expressed the identity crisis he¡¯d been having.


    Olfred lacked direction, but as he gradually stood at the behest of his father, I got the sense this was enough¨Cat least for today. The dwarf trundled past me and out into the cavern beyond, and I could sense as he lifted up into the sky.


    I nodded respectfully to Elder Rahdeas once more, preparing to leave as well. ¡°I hope you recover well, Elder,¡± I said honestly. I bore the man no ill will, even if I thought his choices were¡­ deeply mistaken.


    ¡°So quick to leave a man to his sickbed, Spellsong?¡± Rahdeas mused with a distant expression. ¡°I am surprised. You didn¡¯t strike me as one to leave so abruptly. Before you go, though, I want you to tell me something.¡±


    I turned slightly, acknowledging the elder dwarf. I didn¡¯t know what to think of him. Not really. ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re different from most Alacryans, aren¡¯t you?¡± Rahdeas prodded. ¡°I¡¯ve seen your people treat me in many ways. Most are variations of disgust or condescension. But not you. What is it that you hide behind your eyes, Toren?¡±


    I worked my jaw, thinking of my age-old conversations with Darrin Ordin. Of the promises I¡¯d made to Seris that I¡¯d be a bridge between Darv and Alacrya. And the toil and struggle I saw everyday across this city. I paused in the doorway, my shoulders slumping slightly.


    ¡°I respect what you were trying to do to help your people,¡± I eventually said. And I truly did. Rahdeas¡¯ efforts to uplift Darv reminded me of Greahd and her efforts to help the people of East Fiachra. But unlike Greahd, this would only end in heartbreak¨Cheartbreak for an entire race. ¡°But despite that, I know where this leads. And I hope you can find a way to live with yourself after what you¡¯ve brought upon those you care for.¡±


    I left the dwarven leader behind with his empty stare and broken mind, quietly asking myself the same question. If I failed in my goals, could I afford to live with myself? Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡ª


    Seris was quiet as she lounged on her couch, a contemplative look on her face. Cylrit stood stalwartly to her side, while I busied myself with heating the silver-haired mage¡¯s teapot.


    I¡¯d sensed Scythe Viessa¡¯s departure to her steamship fleet, and I¡¯d caught a glimpse of them retreating toward the Isle of the Earthmother. I knew Seris had been preparing a place for new troops there, but I doubted that it was truly ready yet.


    The atmosphere within the Scythe¡¯s chambers wasn¡¯t quite somber, but it was tense. Both Cylrit and I knew we needed to give the woman we both cared for time to think. Time to develop her thoughts.


    The silver-haired Scythe was beautiful in many ways, but what shone the brightest was her mind. When she put her mind to it, there was no task she could not overcome. No puzzle she could not solve.


    ¡°The Beast Glades will no longer be under Cylrit¡¯s control,¡± Seris finally said, watching as I lowered the leaves of her tea into the steaming pot with my telekinetic rune, allowing them to steep. ¡°Scythe Viessa Vritra has direct orders from the High Sovereign to take charge of that warfront, and accompanying her are Retainers Mawar and Bilal, the latter of whom is the Truacian replacement for the late Jagrette.¡±


    My hands immediately clenched as the implications flashed to the forefront of my mind. On my shoulder, Aurora¡¯s puppet fluttered. ¡°Wolfrum,¡± I said. A statement.


    Seris only tilted her head. ¡°Indeed,¡± she said sourly. ¡°Viessa gave no indication that she knew of this particular problem we face, but I would not be surprised if she did.¡±


    ¡°Which means we need to find him,¡± I said, allowing myself to sit heavily in the tall-backed chair across from Seris. ¡°Or confirm that he¡¯s dead already.¡±


    I ran a hand down my face in irritation. I¡¯d failed to catch the traitorous bastard because of my weakness in the wake of my battle with Arthur. And now Seris¡¯ plans were in jeopardy because of that.


    ¡°Is Scythe Nico still planning to be brought to the warfront?¡± I asked next, trying to get my thoughts in order. Considering Seris hadn¡¯t mentioned anything about it yet, I didn¡¯t think Agrona was ready to end this war just yet.


    Seris looked at me musingly through silver lashes, and Cylrit also gave me a critical look. It took me a moment to realize why they were giving me such strange looks.


    Seris knew I planned to kill the newest Scythe, and she¡¯d taken that in characteristic stride. Cylrit, however, still had no context whatsoever for why I would be asking this question.


    ¡°Scythe Nico is still undergoing training in Taegrin Caelum, primarily underneath Scythe Melzri¡¯s care,¡± Seris eventually said. ¡°That has not changed. But we will need to discuss the specifics of your plans, Toren, so that you do not endanger the people and things you wish to protect.¡±


    I nodded slowly as I watched Seris¡¯ tea leaves simmer. She knew as well as I that the best-case scenario was denying Agrona the Legacy in the first place. Even if it risked the wrath of the High Sovereign, she would support my planned assassination of the second reincarnate.


    ¡°Serve me my tea, would you Toren?¡± Seris said demurely, lounging like a queen on her throne. Her onyx eyes focused on mine with surprising intensity.


    I felt something hot travel through my veins as I matched the moon-blessed sorceress¡¯ gaze, but I forcefully suppressed the sensation. Now wasn¡¯t the time for such emotions. Not when I needed to be thinking clearly and critically.


    I carefully engaged my telekinetic regalia, removing the strainer before floating the steaming-hot cup over to the Scythe of Sehz-Clar. She took it in slender fingers, her eyes inspecting the bottomless depths of the beverage.


    ¡°Now,¡± Seris said, the atmosphere drifting away as she adopted a more serious manner, ¡°there is something else we must discuss.¡±


    Seris turned her gaze away from her beverage, instead focusing on the puppet perched on my shoulder.


    ¡°Lady Dawn,¡± she said respectfully, her words clearly measured as my bond¡¯s construct stared back at her, ¡°I wish for your input on these changes. You have unique insight into the mind of the one that rules us all,¡± Seris said, her intent sharp despite her restrained aura.


    Cylrit raised a pristine black brow as he looked quizzically at the puppeteered construct, clearly confused by his master¡¯s deference to what looked like a wind-up toy. So when Aurora spoke, I savored the surprise that spread across his face.


    ¡°This war is entering its next phase,¡± Aurora said solemnly, fluttering her puppet¡¯s wings as its eyes flashed. A sound like knives being sharpened echoed out. ¡°I have played political games among the asura of Epheotus for countless years, Scythe of Sehz-Clar, but you must know that even among the gods, Agrona Vritra is not one so easily predicted.¡±


    While Cylrit gaped, Seris simply frowned. ¡°Indeed, I know as much. If the master of Alacrya were easy to predict, then he would not have proven such a bane to Kezess Indrath for so long. But I am not asking for definitive proof, Lady Dawn. I simply respect your insight.¡±


    I could feel Aurora¡¯s emotions over our bond. A mix of amusement, caution, and respect kindled like a sparked flame inside her molten breast. The phoenix shade didn¡¯t trust Seris wholeheartedly as I did, but neither did she view my lover as some sort of basilisk spawn doomed to only ruin and decay everything in her path.


    Cylrit seemed to belatedly realize what exactly Aurora was, because his hand shot out to the side in a blur of instinctive reaction. Before he could do anything foolish, however, Seris waved a dismissive hand toward her Retainer.


    He stopped in his actions cold, his blood-red eyes dilated into pinpricks as they stared at the graceful puppet on my shoulder.


    ¡°He is focusing on you,¡± Aurora finally said. ¡°I have no doubt you were sent to this continent for a reason, Seris Vritra. As some sort of experiment; to see how you will act. You might think your leash loosened, but in truth, it only tightens.¡± She flapped her wings slightly. ¡°You cannot hold back for much longer. I have seen how you do so, keeping casualties and damage to a minimum in every battle thus far. This is war, Scythe, and you must be a warrior. Blood will flow regardless, but if you are cautious, then it shall only flow in the direction you desire.¡±


    The room was silent for a long, long moment as Seris absorbed my bond¡¯s words. She sipped at her tea, her eyes misty as they fell into thought.


    ¡°You are right, Lady Dawn. We will have to be more forceful and ambitious in action henceforth,¡± she said eventually. ¡°Before, I was free to act at my own pace. But with the introduction of another Scythe¡ªa rival power in this war¡ªI must ensure that my apparent contributions match that of my counterpart, lest I risk being pressured in ways I cannot account for.¡±


    Cylrit gathered himself, trusting in Seris more than he was confused by this development. He slowly moved to stand near Seris before bowing slightly towards his Scythe. As he did so, I didn¡¯t feel the usual rush of annoyance and irritation I used to whenever I spoke with him. ¡°Your wish is my command, my master,¡± he said sharply. ¡°Do with me as you will.¡±


    Seris turned fond eyes toward her Retainer, and I found myself thinking of what Cylrit had told me not long ago. That he was a bastard son of Scythe Kelagon; a living reminder of what it meant to be a Scythe.


    ¡°I will organize our troops shortly,¡± Seris said. ¡°It¡¯s high time we made a push for the capital of Darv. It will take some time to coordinate with our dwarven allies, but I will have you in the vanguard, Cylrit.¡±


    Cylrit dipped his head. ¡°As you wish,¡± he said, before stepping backward.


    Then the Scythe turned toward me consideringly. She slowly crossed her legs, her dark dress shifting as she narrowed her eyes. ¡°I will not break the treaty I reached with Virion Eralith, which bars you from intruding upon claimed Dicathian land,¡± she said slowly, ¡°which leaves you with one option. I have some idea of where the Bastards Victorious might have fled within the Beast Glades, and it will be your task to track them down once and for all and retrieve Wolfrum Redwater.¡±


    My eyes widened slightly as I considered this, recognizing the genius of it immediately. The Beast Glades weren¡¯t officially claimed by any kingdom in Dicathen, which made it effectively neutral ground¨Ceven if there were constant skirmishes and battles within.


    A smile split my face as I recognized that Seris had no doubt planned for this when she¡¯d originally come to this agreement. ¡°Remind me never to bet against you, Seris,¡± I said. With my skills and sensory abilities, I was one of the best choices to try and track someone, even if the trail was cold for several weeks. ¡°I think you¡¯d always win.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyes narrowed into little crescent moons as she smiled slightly. ¡°Always keep that in mind, Toren,¡± she said slyly, sipping at her tea. When her mouth came away, there was a slight bit of liquid around her pale lips, but a brush of her tongue washed it away. Her smirk was palpable as I noticed I¡¯d been staring a little too long. ¡°I always win.¡±

 Chapter 233: Within the Sea

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    The wind rushed past my face in a gentle caress as I flew high above the clouds. The warm touch of sunshine made my shoulders relax, and the even warmer heat of Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form beneath me lulled me into the state of mind I needed.


    Aurora flapped her massive wings, allowing me to feel a steady wave of reassuring thoughts as I sat cross-legged across her broad soulmetal back.


    We¡¯d crossed the Grand Mountains not long ago, and now we flew toward our destination from high above, invisible to watching eyes on the ground. In several hours, I¡¯d need to touch down in the Beast Glades to search for Wolfrum Redwater in earnest.


    But right now, as the light of the rising sun anointed me in its healthy glow, I allowed myself to settle into a light meditation.


    This wasn¡¯t the same as when I assimilated with my Beast Will, though it was similar. I allowed my emotions to flow like a meandering river, each like a bright splash of shining starlight against abyssal dark waters.


    My heart beat softly in my chest, the sensation coasting along the river of my emotions like a simple boat. And following the rush of insight I¡¯d experienced upon ascending to the white core, I allowed myself to rest in that boat. To allow my emotions and heartfire to draw me where they would.


    ¡°I will be here to pull you from this place when it is time,¡± my bond informed me softly, barely audible over the rivers of emotion and contrasting color that pervaded my mindscape.


    I didn¡¯t acknowledge her words, not really. As the world outside fell away, all my senses focusing inward, I found myself subconsciously remembering that impossible void beyond death. The nothingness that awaited me at the end¨Cthe reflectionless black and oblivion.


    But this wasn¡¯t like that. There was a backdrop of void that waited beyond it all, but the flow of my heartfire still trailed on like a lifegiving river, changing that darkness into something¡­


    I opened my eyes.


    Instead of a layer of sun-kissed clouds, the Sea of my Soul spread out before me in a calming expanse¨CAurora¡¯s dawn-like essence on one end, and the infinite darkness of the Void on the other. Beneath me, a still, reflective lake surface mirrored my calm expression back to me.


    The fiery songbird of my Phoenix Will chirped happily as it flitted around the space above me. I smiled lightly as I watched it wheel about, enjoying the expanse.


    I allowed myself to bask in the heat of Aurora¡¯s comforting soul for a minute, just breathing in and out. The feather that rested in my core¨Cthe one that tied me to my bond¡¯s soul¨Chad constantly outputted mana and power for all the time it had been there, pushing me onward through core development at an unnatural pace. Yet I could tell just from the proximity that all the mana it had granted me was but a drop in the bucket compared to the lifespan of an asura¡¯s cultivation.


    There was something supernaturally calming about being here in this representation of my deepest essence.


    I didn¡¯t really know if what I stood on was my true soul or if it was just the only way I could visualize it. In fact, I knew precious little about this aspect of my abilities.


    Which is why I¡¯m here to learn, I thought¨Cexcept it wasn¡¯t really a thought. More like an echoing vibration, like pure concepts injected directly into my mind. I didn¡¯t so much think the words, as I did¡­ understand the ideas and intent behind them.


    I stared down at the mirror surface beneath me, taking the time to inspect my features. The scar Darrin Ordin had given me stood out over my brow, and I looked more hardened than I thought I remembered. My jaw appeared a bit sharper and my hair more lustrous after my ascension to white core, but besides that, everything I saw was Toren.


    This is a place beyond normal thought, I realized. The first few times I¡¯d been here, I hadn¡¯t borne the requisite understanding or insight to really listen to the undercurrent of intent that pervaded my mind, but now? Now, what I experienced was beyond mere thought. More fundamental. More primordial.


    Instead of words and pictures, my ¡®thoughts¡¯ came as liquid ideas. Formless emotion and endless knowledge. I could get lost in the sensation. Normal thinking felt slow and inefficient compared to what I experienced now.


    I slowly turned away from inspecting my reflection, recognizing the danger inherent in delving too deeply into that sensation. Instead, I focused on the endless expanse of void beyond Aurora¡¯s soul.


    The void where other souls beckoned.


    Two stood out prominently, one closer than the other.


    I¡¯d seen this one before, the last time I¡¯d entered this reflection of my essence. Like a distant celestial body, a moon enveloped in shadows danced to an unseen rhythm. I¡¯d seen it once before as it was cloaked in a theater mask of darkest ivory, but Seris¡¯ soul had since shed such covers.


    What I see changes, I thought, feeling entranced by the nearness of Seris¡¯ soul. The waves of my soul-lake rippled as if pulled by lunar gravity as I stared at the shadowed moon, its face bright as it reflected Aurora¡¯s sun. It changes based on my understanding. Or it shifts based on objective reality. I know not which.


    The towering shield of dark iron that gravitated around Seris¡¯ soul told me as much. Cylrit¡¯s essence seemed to radiate a protective aura as it orbited my lover¡¯s soul. I could almost imagine the man was there himself, dedicating his everything to her.


    I hadn¡¯t gained a deep enough understanding of the Retainer to really see this before. But now I could see how true Cylrit¡¯s words were¨Cwhen he said he had dedicated his entire soul to Seris, those words bore weight.


    I reached a hand out, the water around me seeming to gravitate with my emotions as it rose in little eddies. I could almost hear a siren¡¯s phantom cry as my fingers extended toward the moon, which didn¡¯t seem so distant anymore¡­


    And I stopped myself. The water rising about me as if under antigravity froze, droplets of soul-touched liquid suspended in the air. I slowly retracted my hand as I drew myself away from that siren¡¯s call.


    I took a deep breath, using that to focus back on task. I didn¡¯t know what sort of effect I might have if I just haphazardly tried to touch someone else¡¯s soul. I didn¡¯t know if I could touch someone else¡¯s soul. Maybe nothing would happen at all, or maybe I¡¯d somehow cause those I brushed against to just unravel.


    I clenched my fists. I could still feel the draw of Seris¡¯ soul as I stared at it contemplatively, but also¡­


    The distance between our souls was more¡­ ephemeral than physical. I wasn¡¯t sure the concept of physical distance really applied to souls, at least not in the Sea I stood in currently. But I thought I could sense just a bit of where that soul led to. The more I focused on the shadow-shrouded moon, the more it seemed to drift closer.


    On a hunch, I called thoughts and memories of others to the forefront of my mind. As I did so, the very void beyond shifted. Like an old time-lapsed video of the movement of the stars from my previous life, the canvas of space above me shifted and turned as different souls appeared to me.


    Naereni¡¯s soul¡ªat least to me¡ªappeared like a dark dagger of ice piercing a large bag of gold dust. Glimmering motes of powdered wealth flowed like blood from a wound as the bag hemorrhaged its contents.


    Not far away, Sevren was a mass of twisting gears and machinery. Like an engine, different parts churned and chugged in clockwork sync, moving toward a singular goal. I got the sense that the accumulation of bronze and mechanical parts that conveyed his essence hadn¡¯t always been running so smoothly, but just from squinting at the metal construct, I could understand something.


    A soft smile split my face. It seemed Sevren was interacting more with his sister if his soul was in such a well-maintained state.


    And while Sevren and Naereni¡¯s souls weren¡¯t distant from me in this void space, I got a different sense of their distance. They were far from me in a way, but also¡­ also not. It was hard to really put into words in this space of pure ideas and intent, but there was a strange sort of intertwining between the souls I¡¯d seen.


    A push and a pull; like my telekinetic abilities.


    I stared at the two souls for a time, immersed in the strange understandings I gained from just watching. Just as a person gained a unique perspective on life through gazing at a scene in nature, or a connoisseur could pick out characterizing details in art to reach new insight, every little aspect of this soulspace seemed to convey something new and ethereal.


    High above, my Phoenix Will expanded unnaturally in size as it flew gracefully, crying out in a reverberating echo. I shifted my attention to it as it drifted about happily, wondering how exactly it was present here.


    I knew my Will touched my soul in some way. I¡¯d have to test that next time. To see in more detail what it was like to¨C


    A pulse of heat radiated from Aurora¡¯s massive soul like a solar flare, a shimmering wall of fire funneling toward me on invisible chains. I watched, awed but not afraid, as the solar storm brushed against the phantasmal sea of my soul, before enveloping me in an instant.


    Our bond, I thought in surprise as that same soul-based intent thrummed through my system. It wasn¡¯t just thought and emotion¡ªit was that primordial touch. That deepest expression injected directly into the highest form of my being.


    Aurora was calling me. Telling me it was time. But also a dozen other complexities I¡¯d never been able to sense before¨Cso full and real.


    I closed my eyes, knowing that I couldn¡¯t spend any more time in this space. I allowed my body to relax.


    I felt the cool late-morning breeze as it brushed against my body again. My clothes fluttered in the wind, and the warmth from Aurora¡¯s soulmetal relic radiated upward like heat from a stove. Opening my eyes, I was above the clouds once again on my bond¡¯s broad back.


    ¡°That,¡± I said, blinking my eyes at the strange absence of the pervading calm of soulspace, ¡°was a trip.¡±


    Aurora cocked her massive head, twisting to look back at me. Those eyes burned with questions. ¡°You entered the Sea of your Soul, did you not?¡± she pressed, sounding eager. ¡°Tell me, Toren: what was it like? Did you divine anything new?¡±


    I slowly stood, stretching out my body even as currents of wind tried to knock me over and cast me into the clouds below. I ignored that, working out the kinks in my back as I balanced with supernatural grace.


    ¡°A bit,¡± I said with a groan as my spine popped. ¡°I¡¯ve got perspective on other people¡¯s souls, not just my own. And I think I can sense where the person is. Like an inverse of what I do to reach my soul by following my heartfire to the source, I think I can follow souls to their requisite tethers of lifeforce. But I don¡¯t want to try anything yet.¡±


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    Aurora was silent for several scything wingbeats beneath me. ¡°The soul is a domain few among the asura have ever lingered,¡± she said quietly, ¡°And fewer still understand. Even the greatest of my clan had questions that they could never answer. You are wise to maintain caution.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders as my bond¡¯s somber words registered. She lamented the fact that she could not teach me the intricacies of this power as she had with everything else, and though I did not blame her, that didn¡¯t ease her sorrow.


    ¡°We¡¯re just about near the camp I visited last time, yeah?¡± I asked. ¡°Just about time for us to drop?¡±


    The phantasmal phoenix nodded her bronze vessel. ¡°Indeed. As the sorcerous Scythe said, this is where we must start in our efforts. If you wish to capture the traitor, you must start from the beginning.¡±


    I felt a rictus smile spread across my face as I stared down at the clouds below. Just thinking of Wolfrum made anger churn in my gut¡ªanger at my failure to stop this. Seris wanted Wolfrum alive, probably so she could make an example of him. The Scythe couldn¡¯t allow traitors to galavant around without retribution.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s hunt our prey,¡± I said, my eyes burning, before I let myself fall from Aurora¡¯s back. As I did so, I tugged on the tether of heartfire that connected the relic to my sternum, allowing the phoenix to shift the relic back to its Puppet Form.


    The wind rushed past my face as I plummeted, my arms and legs tucked in so I could effectively freefall. The clouds swallowed me as I shot through them, my vision obscured as droplets of water streamed off my telekinetic shroud. The wind whistled and howled as my clothes flapped, and I resisted the urge to laugh even as I shot through the lower layer of clouds.


    The Beast Glades stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. An endless expanse of forested hills and deep secrets, beckoning me like a mother¡¯s call. I narrowed my eyes as I continued to fall for the next couple of minutes, the ground fast approaching.


    Aurora circled me in her puppeteered relic as the ground surged up to meet me. Down and down and down I went, adrenaline hot in my veins as my shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair whipped behind me.


    Just before it was too late, I shifted in the air, reaching out with my telekinetic regalia. A consistent area of pushing force quickly dampened my fall as my hurtle slowly evened off.


    Finally, I alighted on a waiting branch, not even shaking the tree as I settled my feet with the grace of a feather.


    That was something I¡¯d learned about my regalia¡¯s new abilities. I could effectively decide whether I wanted the pushback to affect me or the ambient mana nearby. With my increased abilities, I was truly a force to be reckoned with.


    I spread my senses out, searching and listening. The sounds of chirping birds and rustling mana beasts were prominent all around. The wind rustled through the leaves, and I could hear the mournful cries of a nearby creature as it became prey to another.


    I tilted my head, shifting my perception as I meticulously swept the forest. There was too much sound here. Too much life. What I was looking for was¨C


    There. A spot without any sound whatsoever, entirely devoid of noise. Most wouldn¡¯t be able to tell the difference with the ambient noise crowding everything out, but hearing was arguably my sharpest sense. I could parse through most disruptions with ease.


    And now that I¡¯d found my target, it was easy for my white-core senses to pierce the barrier. A wall of sound mana blocked any noise within a large area from escaping, but once I¡¯d laid my eyes on it, there was no mistaking it.


    Aurora flew overhead as she approached, scouting for me. I reined in my mana as I leapt from tree to tree, the familiar act bringing memories of the Clarwood Forest and the Relictombs to the fore.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to finally pass through the barrier. Most mages wouldn¡¯t be able to feel the transition, but with my heightened awareness, it was as if I stepped into a different world. I could hear the sounds of dozens of beasts clamoring within the earth. The clanking of metal, the grunts of workers, the howls of pain.


    I slowed my approach as I reined in my mana even more. Below me, countless corrupted mana beasts formed a small horde. I watched in a mix of awe and horror as they sat unnaturally still, the corruption in their veins compelling them to another¡¯s will. The mana in the air stank of decay and ill will as I watched from above.


    This is a pocket of what will be the Beast Horde, I thought, watching as a mana beast with elongated tusks that were covered in scales waited mutely beside a small avian beast¡ªone that should be flying. Instead, predator and prey stood with unnatural calm as they awaited orders from their slave masters. A single cell in a massive, demented organism.


    Knowing what I did of how the vials of liquid corrupted mana beasts, something twisted in my gut as I watched all these unwitting pawns as they were bent to the whims of a dark god. But I dismissed it from my mind as I continued on my way, ignoring these doomed souls with their tainted heartfires.


    There were greater things at stake.


    The actual Alacryan camp wasn¡¯t that far from where the beasts were sequestered. Men shouted orders and darted about as they transported vials of liquid corruption, arranged themselves in neat units, and more.


    There were many lookouts, all tasked with keeping watch on the ground and the trees. But they couldn¡¯t see me. I was the wind itself as I flew deeper into the camp, beelining for a specific location Seris had indicated.


    There were dozens of small camps like these all across the Beast Glades where troops gradually gathered an utter horde of corrupted mana beasts together. I knew that they would eventually be sent out against the Wall far to the west to act as a diversion for Dicathen¡¯s troops.


    And as the Dicathians were preoccupied on that front, Agrona would strike a death knell to the kingdom of Elenoir, sending sentries straight to the heart of the elven forest. But that plan wouldn¡¯t succeed¡ªnot without Circe Milview and her array. I¡¯d made sure of that. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I banished those thoughts from my mind as Aurora¡¯s relic finally spotted the point where I needed to go.


    When the Bastards Victorious had fled the camps, presumably with Wolfrum Redwater in tow, it had caused no small amount of issues. The Bastards themselves had a reputation for brutality and cunning¨Cwhich made sense. They¡¯d served directly beneath Retainer Uto before Seris had dealt with the wretch. But they also had the skills and talents needed to survive in hostile territory for weeks on end, scavenging from the land and working to keep themselves alive for their goals.


    Seris doubted that Wolfrum was dead. If he¡¯d managed to get protection from the malicious squad of commandos, then he could effectively disappear into the Beast Glades and never be heard from again. There was no tracker or sentry among Seris¡¯ retinue who could hope to both follow whatever traces existed while also avoiding detection from Dicathian troops.


    None except me.


    A small clearing had been cordoned off from the rest of the camp like a biohazard zone. A scene of utter havoc and chaos splayed out before me. Burned grass and decimated trees told a quiet story.


    On their way out, the Bastards Victorious had decimated everything in their wake. They¡¯d burned tents, churned up the earth with their magic, and spilt no little blood as they did so. Here was the aftermath of their crime: a brutal testament to the treachery of Wolfrum Redwater.


    Aurora¡¯s relic alighted on my shoulder, chirping slightly. The claws dug lightly into my skin-tight tunic.


    ¡°This proves that they did not plan their exit to be so abrupt,¡± she said over our bond, her burning orbs inspecting the charred remnants. ¡°They likely intended to muddy their mana signatures and make themselves difficult to track. But it was sloppily done. Panicked. They needed to do as much work as possible before Retainer Cylrit could catch wind of their treachery.¡±


    So they were quick and hasty with their spells as they tried to cover their tracks, I thought, inspecting the ash that still coated the ground. They couldn¡¯t afford to be methodical, so they just blew everything up instead.


    ¡°So there will be traces left behind,¡± my bond concluded, fluttering the puppet¡¯s wings as wind blew through the trees. ¡°Traces that we can follow.¡±


    I smirked as I dropped from the tree branch I was on, my boots crunching in the ash. I surveyed the blast radius, quickly finding the central location. It expanded out in a circular pattern, resembling a concussive wave.


    I tapped my foot. Okay, if we start by inspecting the surrounding blast radius, I might be able to pick up¨C


    My head snapped to the side as a powerful mana signature suddenly appeared in my range as if out of thin air. I tensed for a fraction, wondering who they were before I belatedly recognized it.


    Bilal, I thought, flying upward and leaving the scene of the Bastards¡¯ retreat behind. Aurora¡¯s relic hung close to me as I reined in my presence. The Retainer who accompanied Mawar with Viessa.


    My plans immediately adjusted inside my mind. While my main task was to trail the Bastards Victorious and Wolfrum Redwater, it certainly wouldn¡¯t hurt if I could get some intel on my enemies first.


    I alighted on a branch, slowly maneuvering myself toward where I sensed the Retainer¡¯s mana signature pop in. With a bit of thought, I realized Bilal must have used a tempus warp to appear so suddenly. Going on rounds throughout the Alacryan camps, probably. That was standard military protocol: when put in command of a force, the first thing one did was address what its strengths and weaknesses were.


    I alighted on a branch, staring down at the array of soldiers as they shuffled about once more. Bilal was easy to spot as he marched with an arrogance stereotypical of those with manifested Vritra blood.


    ¡°Hello, bastards,¡± he sneered, his dark robes shifting as he stared disdainfully down at the Vechorian troops. ¡°My name is Bilal, chosen representative of the Sovereigns themselves and replacement for that fool, Jagrette.¡±


    The Alacryans all around him stopped in shock as his aura washed over them like dark and sickly sludge. Internally, I scoffed in amusement.


    Pathetic compared to Mardeth, I thought as I watched the man brandish his power like a stick.


    As I watched the Retainer bark out orders and corral men into position, I thought over what I knew about this man. One of the Dead Three personally trained by Scythe Viessa, Bilal would eventually face down Tessia in that otherworld novel during an elven prisoner rescue operation, only to meet his end from her swordstaff.


    Though I wasn¡¯t so certain that was going to happen now, considering Elenoir should be spared its conquest by Circe Milview¡¯s absence. Still, I made a point to observe the man as he swaggered about, his ugly and sickly features sparking more disgust in me than any sort of fear.


    My eyes were drawn to another lanky figure, this one hunching near Bilal as they leaned against a tree. I could sense sickly mana oozing from them as well, but it was noticeably weaker than the newly appointed Retainer¡¯s.


    I furrowed my brow as I stared at the other man, trying to remember their name. I thought I recognized him, but¡­


    ¡°Bivran, brother!¡± Bilal said sharply as he finally finished berating the troops around him. ¡°What do you sense?¡±


    Right, Bivran, I thought. Wasn¡¯t Ellie¡¯s bond, Boo, supposed to bite his head off like a watermelon?


    Bivran bristled slightly at being addressed by his brother. Now that I had properly recalled him, I remembered that he was the weakest of the Dead Three. And didn¡¯t he have powers related to¨C


    ¡°This continent¡¯s trees are receptive to my powers,¡± Bivran said in a hushed whisper as he and his brother moved off to the side. With a slight application of sound magic, I was able to listen in without being discovered. ¡°But I still can¡¯t be certain of anything.¡±


    Bilal waved his hand dismissively, his dark robes shifting unnaturally around his gangly-thin body. ¡°You¡¯ll succeed, brother, or you¡¯ll be punished. We both know this. If you want a Retainership so bad, you need to do at least something noteworthy.¡±


    Bivran sneered, seeming a perfect mirror to his brother. ¡°That Mawar girl won¡¯t last,¡± he said with surety. ¡°Too timid. She¡¯s got the strength, but none of the grit or drive. I¡¯ll enjoy breaking her before I take her place.¡±


    ¡°Not yet, Bivran,¡± Bilal said in a sharp hiss, lowering his voice. ¡°This operation can¡¯t afford to fail. After we¡¯ve succeeded, I¡¯ll pave the way for you to challenge the bitch. But right now we need her, broken scarecrow as she is.¡±


    My brows furrowed. Operation? The attack on the Wall?


    Except that didn¡¯t seem right. Part of me felt tempted to just drop down and demand answers, but I knew that wouldn¡¯t work. My mission right now was supposed to be one of stealth, but rushing in risked discovery. It seemed that Bilal, Bivran, and Mawar were being readied for some sort of plan.


    I could also follow them for a time, I thought, my brows furrowing. Listen in and hope that they speak more of this plan.


    It didn¡¯t surprise me that Bivran was planning to try and usurp Mawar¡¯s position, but that information was useful. I was on good terms with Mawar, and it wouldn¡¯t hurt for her to owe me another favor.


    ¡°And if you inform the young girl of her companions¡¯ treacherous nature,¡± Aurora thought over our bond, ¡°then you can sow discord in their ranks. Water seeds of distrust, and chaos will follow.¡±


    A smirk tugged at the edges of my lips as I considered this. The next time I managed to talk to Mawar, I¡¯d need to tell her about this.


    From a cursory sense, I was certain Mawar outclassed even Bilal in direct combat power, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean anything. When I first fought Melzri¡¯s Retainer way back in Nirmala, she¡¯d been susceptible to goading and basic taunts. If Bivran was smart and played his cards right, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he could snatch a victory in a direct fight.


    I would much rather Mawar be Retainer of Etril than some sick Mardeth wannabe.


    I listened closely for a while after, trying to catch hints of anything more from the two, but they¡¯d devolved back into ordering their troops about and generally flaunting themselves like puffed-up peacocks. Eventually, Bilal pulled a tempus warp from a dimension ring and left with his brother, presumably to visit other camps littered across the Beast Glades.


    I turned slightly on my branch as I planned to go back to my primary objective. Still, something prickled at the back of my skull about the conversation between the two plague mages, even as I began tracking the scent of my prey.

 Chapter 234: Hunter

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I knelt down around a mound of ash, dipping my hand into the remnants of a campfire. I raised the dark substance to my eyes, inspecting it as I rubbed it between my fingers.


    Still warm. Barely warm. But this fire had been extinguished barely an hour ago.


    The Unseen World blanketed my vision as Aurora¡¯s shade scanned the earth, her eyes burning with sheer focus. Eddies of mist swirled around me as I projected my senses outward, pulling and twisting at the ambient mana to give me a sign.


    I¡¯d spent the past week and a half or so stalking through the Beast Glades, following specks of familiar mana, the most minute traces of human interaction in the environment, and more. Like a bird of prey, I gradually honed in on the objects of my ire.


    It would have been difficult for anyone else to track the Bastards Victorious. They clearly knew the risks themselves, and so went to great pains to cover up their trail wherever they went, even laying many false paths along the way.


    But with Aurora¡¯s millennia of experience hunting the most dangerous prey in Epheotus and a pinpoint eye on the sky, hints that most would have missed became glaring footprints that led directly to my foe. It was an irritating process considering my own inexperience, but I was learning fast.


    And even if the Bastards Victorious were expert survivalists, they weren¡¯t practiced in covering their traces. Their methods were brutal and designed to instill terror and fear in their enemies, and that showed even in how they fled. A brutal murder of a mana beast left traces in the ambient mana in a way a simple execution would not. Jagged swipes of weapons across branches and leaves to clear a pathway created easy-to-follow trails if one searched for them. And the signs of half a dozen men moving together¨Cmost of them trained to be loud and obnoxious¨Cmade it a simpler task than I anticipated.


    The Bastards were trying to tone down their vicious natures, but they slipped. I¡¯d slain their leader, and now they struggled to find cohesion and to keep cool heads.


    ¡°You are closing in on your prey, Toren,¡± Aurora said sharply as she inspected the pitch in my hands, ¡°but this time, it is different.¡±


    The songbird puppet chittered on my shoulder as I looked past the wraith-like form of my bond. Indeed, this time it was different.


    Before, the traces I¡¯d needed to follow were often indistinct and hard to spot. Things like the cuts from an axe felling a tree for firewood, bootprints in the mud, signs of brief scuffles with mana beasts, and even the scent of sweat, blood, and piss were distinguishing factors that helped me hone in on my targets. The Bastards seemed to sense that I was getting closer, too. Their efforts at hiding their paths became more and more haphazard. Less carefully planned and more panicked.


    The prey had caught the scent of their predator. They knew they were being hunted.


    I frowned at the obvious paths in front of me. Seven paths stretched forward, each carved into the dense jungle-like foliage of the deeper recesses of the Beast Glades. It appeared my prey had split up.


    Aurora strode over to me as I stared contemplatively at the branching pathways, each beckoning with darkness beyond. There wasn¡¯t much light this far below the canopy, and each trail loomed like the opening to a crypt.


    Not a crypt for me, though. Only a crypt for those who dared to cross me. Who dared to cross Seris.


    ¡°This is their final gambit,¡± the phoenix said knowingly as her glowing eyes scanned the pathways, her pupils banishing the darkness. ¡°They can no longer run from you as a group, so they have decided to separate. To brave the jungle alone.¡±


    I flexed my core, and the ash around my fingers burned away to nothing.


    I need to choose the correct path, I thought to Aurora, or else I might actually lose them here.


    My bond nodded sharply. ¡°It has been relatively simple to trail your quarry so far because they have been working together. Seven fools leave far more traces and mistakes than one, because idiocy compounds. But they also needed the power of their group to effectively brave the dangers of this deep jungle.¡±


    Aurora was right about that. This deep into the Beast Glades, it wasn¡¯t uncommon to chance across S-class mana beasts. The Bastards¨Cplus Wolfrum¨Cwere essentially gambling their lives against the chance of getting ambushed by a natural predator.


    Or getting ambushed by me.


    But I couldn¡¯t let Wolfrum kill himself in these forests. Seris wanted him alive, and an example needed to be set for traitors like his wretched ilk.


    ¡°You must think, my son,¡± Aurora said seriously. ¡°Which path has your target taken? Outwardly, the signs are minimal. But think of what you know. Prey have patterns. It is our prerogative to exploit those patterns as hunters.¡±


    I felt a bit of repressed anger bubble to the surface of my thoughts as I thought of Wolfrum. The traitor to Seris and threat to all she hoped to accomplish. My fists clenched as my jaw locked, my eyes panning over the paths available.


    Wolfrum wanted to live. He wanted to make it back to Alacrya so that he could take all the glory for unseating Seris for himself. But most of all, the traitor wanted recognition.


    He wanted to be somebody central. Important.


    ¡°A pattern to exploit,¡± I sneered, my focus settling on the middle path.


    I reined in my mana signature even further as I allowed the ambient mana to carry me aloft. I edged near the canopy as I followed the path, faster and faster now that I¡¯d grown accustomed to it.


    And as I did so, I noticed clear differences. My mind was working overtime to pick up patterns, and so even simple things became more obvious.


    My eyes trained on a few stalks of decapitated plants as I hovered above them, a rictus grin stretching across my face. The cuts were sloppy and uneven, as if someone struggled to even align their blade properly.


    Almost as if they were trying to use their non-dominant hand.


    It took less than an hour for me to find my target. A river of running water cut through the forest like the seam of a dress, separating two sides of nature. The water itself was interspersed by jutting boulders and strange plants that looked like massive venus fly traps dripping venom from their spines. Whenever the caustic liquid hit the water, it sizzled with a pop before it was pulled away by the gentle current.


    Outwardly, the atmosphere was calm and pleasant. I could almost imagine myself lounging on the banks and watching the sun set, or fishing for an afternoon.


    But my heartfire sense told me otherwise. Not far beneath the surface of the otherwise tranquil waters, the heartbeats of predators waited to strip any foolish prey of their flesh.


    I could hear all those individual heartbeats, parse and peel them apart. If I let my senses unfocus and expand, I could even feel the lifeforces of the innumerable birds and bees and insects that populated the earth beneath my boots.


    But I didn¡¯t do that. I didn¡¯t need to sense the terrified thumping of my quarry.


    I stared across the water, my eyes honing in on a specific boulder a ways out. In the shadows, I could see the entrance to a cave on the side. Aurora¡¯s puppet sat on my shoulder, the burning orange eyes focused on the exact same point.


    I stepped out onto the water, a single ripple radiating out as my body floated unnaturally over the moving river.


    ¡°Wolfrum Redwater,¡± I said as I walked forward at a loping pace, my intent radiating out like a pulsing star, ¡°you¡¯ve run long enough.¡±


    The traitor¡¯s intent dripped with terror as the heartfires beneath the water retreated in fear, my effect on the ambient mana clawing at their bones. I weaved around a massive venus flytrap, the stalk shifting as the plant itself tried to inch away.


    I finally reached the jutting boulder. I reached an arm outward, calling on my mana. ¡°We have a lot of catching up to do, Wolfrum,¡± I said, savoring the wretch¡¯s fear.


    Then I called on my telekinetic powers. The boulder¨Ceasily many times my size¨Clifted into the air with casual ease. Water streamed off of it in waves, creating a cascading waterfall for the barest moment. Then the boulder crashed into the river not far away in a spray of white.


    Wolfrum Redwater cowered below. He was small and thin from weeks without proper sustenance, and his heartfire reflected his ailments. His mismatched eyes flashed with rabid light as he threw himself at me, his sole hand flailing with a knife.


    I allowed the knife to rebound off my telekinetic shroud harmlessly, before I reached out with my regalia once more. Wolfrum¡¯s body locked up as the crushing weight of my psychic force consumed him from all sides, an outline of white flaring around him.


    It wasn¡¯t easy to control people with my telekinetic powers¨Cat least not without their inherent mana trying to fight back. But I was a white core mage, and Wolfrum had been starving in the jungle for weeks.


    The traitor¡¯s eyes darted around like a rodent¡¯s as he clenched his teeth in fear, unable to even shift his jaw or adjust his arms from how my mana held him tight.


    His life was in my hands.


    I allowed Wolfrum to hover closer to me, unwilling to let him speak. I scrutinized the mangy traitor from head to toe, noting the many cuts and scrapes along his unwashed clothes. There were more than a few deeply infected. Foreign mana¨Clikely from some sort of venomous mana beast¨Cwormed its way through his flesh in small splotches.


    It sobered my bloodlust instantly. Wolfrum might have been a traitor, but it wasn¡¯t my place to punish him or draw out his suffering.


    I sighed slightly, reaching a finger out and engaging my lifeforce. Wolfrum wanted to tremble in fear, but my cold telekinetic grip didn¡¯t let him. Only his mismatched eyes traced the pad of my index. Reluctantly, I banished the worst of the mana rot that had infected his legs and arms¨Csomething he¡¯d probably been suffering from for a week at least¨Cand stared into his eyes with a grave expression.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to answer for your crimes, Wolfrum,¡± I said simply. ¡°I won¡¯t let you die before that.¡±


    I turned, already mentally planning my route back to Burim, when something changed.


    I¡¯d been standing on the water for the past minute or so, and the river itself meandered at a cool pace. Not too fast, not too slow.


    Except now, it appeared that the water was beginning to speed up. Slowly at first, but then faster. The lifeforces and mana signatures of the mana beasts all around me fled downstream at a breakneck pace, and even the massive Venus flytraps shuddered.


    I shifted in my stance as I quested out with my senses, my eyes sharpening. The air felt unnaturally still and silent, the only thing I could hear was Wolfrum¡¯s panicked breathing. I slowly rose into the air, knowing I was being watched.


    Aurora, I thought, the clockwork bird on my shoulder tense as well, what do you¨C


    And then the river seemed to come alive. Water exploded around me as a cascading lifeforce became suddenly audible, raw and primal intent surging for me. On instinct, I threw Wolfrum¡¯s body to the side, aiming for the far bank.


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    Just in time. Something covered in rocklike carapace and churning with power snapped around me, trying to crush me with the force of an ocean. My vision went dark as massive jaws blocked out the sky, a row of razor-sharp teeth all I could see.


    I threw my hands out on instinct, engaging my telekinesis as I fought against the crushing pressure. Water surged in from all sides, the pressure absurd as it tried to crush my protective bubble of mana. I was sending out a constant stream of pushing force that barely rebuffed the wave.


    A bead of sweat traced down my jaw as my protections were forced inward, whatever beast this was trying with all its might to make me crumple like an aluminum can at the bottom of the sea.


    Foolish monster, I thought with a smirk as my telekinetic sphere slowly collapsed inward, you¡¯ve bit off far, far more than you can chew.


    Already in tune with my thoughts, Aurora prepared herself. Her relic¡¯s puppeteered wings scythed with power, and her thoughts were those of disdain. Disdain against whatever mana beast dared to interrupt our hunt.


    I pulled the heartfire tether from Aurora¡¯s shade, allowing it to latch onto my core. And in an instant, things changed.


    My bond¡¯s relic glowed like red-hot metal as the shift began, light finally piercing the encompassing darkness of the absurdly compressed water. And then she expanded.


    The monster¡¯s head exploded in a shower of water and shattered carapace as Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form emerged like a butterfly tearing its way from a macabre cocoon. She screeched in triumph, her bronzed wings tearing through what was left of the mana beast¡¯s skull.


    I flew backward as Aurora surged into the sky, observing the creature that had just tried to swallow me whole in ambush. Its bulky body was partially sticking out of the river¨Cor was the river its body? It was hard to tell, because the entire thing seemed to be made of flowing water.


    Intermittent plates of dark, beetle-black carapace as large as I was tall were held in place by joints of solid water, creating a vaguely reptilian appearance as it towered above the river. Several necks of murky water¨Ceach thicker than tree trunks and longer than telephone poles¨Cended in heads of dark-plated armor. Eyes the color of blood stared at me from three twisting necks, the intent of the beast radiating hatred for what I¡¯d done to one of its skulls.


    All three heads of the water hydra roared in anger as the neck I¡¯d escaped from gradually dissolved, frills of dark chitin flaring in challenge as it glared at me. I could sense both its intent and heartfire now that it had left the water, but what I heard and felt gave me pause even as I squared off with the S-class mana beast.


    ¡°It is a corrupted mana beast,¡± Aurora said grimly as she wheeled back down, her massive body easily as large as the water hydra¡¯s, ¡°but why is¨C¡±


    Aurora¡¯s thoughts cut off sharply as something blitzed toward her in a flash of dark electric light, a thunderbolt splitting the cloudless sky as something slammed into her. I felt a surge of adrenaline as I watched a massive avian mana beast tackle the bronze phoenix, sending them both tumbling through the air. I could only make out a crackle of black lightning and dark feathers as they interlaced with Aurora¡¯s bronze exterior. Twin cries of furious intensity echoed out in reverberating waves, the scent of a ripping thunderstorm washing over the river.


    I didn¡¯t even have a second to take this all in, because the earth itself was shaking along the riverbank. It sounded like the stampede of a hundred hooves. A trumpeting roar like a war drum made the earth tremble and shudder, and my attention snapped to where Wolfrum was trying to piteously drag himself away. Several of his bones had been broken from my rough treatment, but it seemed his survival instinct was still intact.


    The water hydra must have thought my lapse of attention a weakness, because it was suddenly lunging toward me. The river itself came alive with dark power as it tried to snap me out of the air, but I couldn¡¯t afford to give it any attention.


    I dipped and weaved around the crushing jaws of the hydra like a dancer, each large enough to swallow me whole. I pirouetted in the sky as the air was displaced by the snapping of angry jaws, rabid red eyes tracing me with fury.


    I couldn¡¯t afford to give this creature my full attention, because the forest itself was surging toward my prey. Trying to steal my catch.


    My boots settled gracefully on the side of one of the dark chitinous heads¨Cwhich looked like a strange amalgamation of a serpent¡¯s jaw and the face of a crab¨Cand then a mindfire stamp erupted from the soles of my boots.


    The corrupted water hydra roared in pain as its head whipped to the side, the skull cratering inward in a shower of fire, force, and splintering carapace. I blurred through the air in a streak, aiming for the riverbank.


    I appeared beside Wolfrum in a flash, my boots impacting the mud in a squelch. Time seemed to slow as Wolfrum locked terrified eyes with me. I growled, cocking back my leg. A helpful dose of heartfire thrummed along my thighs and calves, before I kicked the traitor hard in the stomach.


    I felt his insides crack beneath my assault, but it healed over instantly as my lifeforce washed through his body. He coughed up blood as he tumbled away, splashing through the water as he flew a dozen yards.


    Just in time for another corrupted S-class mana beast to emerge from the trees, charging with the force of a runaway train.


    I only had a split second to take in its appearance as its thunderous heartfire¨Cthumping in tune with its stampede of legs¨Cthrummed through my ears.


    It looked vaguely like a rhinoceros, except it had six stocky legs and was twice the size of a bus. Dark plates of steel covered its entire body as its single horn¨Clarger than any spear¨Cgleamed menacingly, lowered with the intent of goring me through.


    Inversion was already in my hand, a shrouded warhammer appearing as I planted my feet. I was supernaturally calm and focused as I funneled mana through my limbs in cascading waves, strengthening them to the point that my muscles began to ache.


    I reached an arm out as the living freight train of a mana beast finally reached me, the monster bellowing in fury. As if in slow motion, the back of my palm pressed against the massive spear of a horn, the metallic weapon cutting through my telekinetic shroud even as I pushed it to the side.


    In the same movement, I twisted in my stance, shoving the dozen-ton charging beast to the side by its horn. With the aid of my telekinetic regalia and a whirlwind of power, I brought my weapon upward like a spike of rock, sound mana rippling along the head of the crystalline warhammer.


    Several things happened at once. Off balance from my subtle and expert redirection of its charge, the charging rhinoceros-like mana beast was unprepared for the strike of my hammer. It crashed against the underside of its massive jaw, sound mana surging through its unbelievably tough skull as a wave of force radiated outward.


    Every tree in a dozen-foot radius was flattened from the rippling shockwave as my hammer rang on the beast¡¯s absurdly dense head, a sound like a hammer striking a gong reverberating painfully in my ears. The beast¡¯s charge was turned into a horrendous crash, its body tumbling and lurching from the catastrophic hammer-blow. I could distantly feel as the sound mana I¡¯d imbued rebounded over and over inside the creature¡¯s plated skull, pulping its brain.


    It tumbled into the water with a piteous croon, interrupting the water hydra as it was about to snap at my exposed back.


    Aurora! I thought sharply, sensing her battle with another corrupted S-class beast in the skies, How are you faring? What is happening on your end?!


    I didn¡¯t understand how there were corrupted mana beasts this far into the Beast Glades, but I could sense that easily enough from their black-stained heartfire and rictus intent. There was something else wrong with the air, though¨Csomething I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on.


    ¡°I am well, my son!¡± Aurora thought back, her words punctuated by a cry and a crash of thunder. ¡°This twinforce thunderbird is no match for me. Be wary of your own battles!¡±


    Why I¡¯d been suddenly ambushed by three corrupted S-class mana beasts¨Ceach on the higher end of the power scale¨Cjust as I¡¯d been about to catch my prey, I¡¯d have to question later. The cut on my hand healed over as my lifeforce washed away the damage I¡¯d taken from pressing against the rhinoceros¡¯ horn.


    Now that I gave myself a chance to look at the mana beast¨Cwhich was kicking its legs in futile death throes, the brain damage I¡¯d given it overcoming its tough hide¨CI recognized it from some of the manuals I¡¯d read.


    A steelhorn rhinoran¨Cone of the very few mana beasts that could even contend with an iron hyrax¡¯s defenses. And just from the single exchange, I knew that to be true. I doubted there were many things that could even pierce a hide so tough.


    Unfortunately for the beast, I had spells designed explicitly to counter such heavy armor. My hammer hadn¡¯t even dented that steel, but that didn¡¯t matter when my sound spell turned its brain into mush.


    I felt its heartfire go still as it died.


    My eyes flicked back to where Wolfrum was lying in the mud, weeping pitifully and clutching at his stomach. The charge of the rhinoran would have flattened the fool, and I had to wonder if that had been intentional.


    I blurred to the side with a mindfire stamp as a razor-jet of dark water tried to cut me in two, instead scything through a swath of jungle trees behind me. The water hydra expelled water like the world¡¯s deadliest pressure washer as it tried to tear me apart. I snarled as the hydra¡¯s beady red eyes tracked me, feeling annoyed by the constant interruptions.


    I zipped forward, shrouded wings growing from my back. I barrel-rolled out of the way of another cut of water as the hydra¡¯s heads reared up, frills of carapace shivering in challenge.


    I blurred past, my wings flaring outward with vibrating energy as they bisected one of the thick necks. Except the moment I passed, the wound¨Cif it could even be counted as one¨Csealed back over.


    It¡¯s like trying to cut through water as it flows from a spigot, I thought with annoyance as I punched one of the skulls in the head again, splintering carapace as my knuckles bled. The fourth neck hadn¡¯t returned, but I saw a churning of water like a geyser at the base of its water-bound body that made me uncertain.


    I needed to end this¨Cand the only way seemed to be to completely destroy each skull. But the monster was annoyingly smart¨Cevery time I tried to attack one of its skulls, it jerked out of the way or stalled me with some other tactic.


    New tactic, then, I thought with a sneer, reaching out with my telekinetic regalia. All around me, the obliterated remnants of jungle trees raised into the air, spinning and churning. The hydra lunged at me, but I was faster.


    A dozen tons of wood smashed into the creature from all sides, toppling it over with a cacophonous crash. Its heads were all forced into place as I thrust out my hands, the claws of my fingers straining as I grit my teeth. The waterlogged wood compressed further against the struggling S-class beast, and any moment I knew it would escape.


    I exhaled, then held out a shrouded saber. For a moment, I dipped into my Acquire Phase, the familiar rush of energy and insight bolstering my magic. Suddenly, it wasn¡¯t so difficult pinning the massive hydra¡¯s heads in place by force of will.


    Three feathers shot from my wings, guided by intent and purpose. They buzzed with compressed power of fire and sound as they whizzed through the air like cutting knives, before each sank into the writhing skulls.


    And when they exploded, there was nothing left of the carapace skulls. My shoulders slumped slightly as I released my hold, the strange solid-water corpse of the hydra refusing to just return to normal liquid. I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow as I did so, about to let my Beast Will return to the insides of my core.


    But then my eyes caught on something. Something dark and shifting that seemed to pervade the entire atmosphere like a fell wind. With my sense for heartfire heightened by this form, I could almost feel the decaying touch of the wind itself in my ears in a way I hadn¡¯t before.


    Even as the defeated body of the twinforce thunderbird crashed into the jungle and Aurora returned to my side, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.


    When I¡¯d faced off against these S-class beasts, I hadn¡¯t felt fear. S-class mana beasts were something I could handle with relative ease, even if they were boosted by corruption. But the familiar intent in the air¡ªthe way it pervaded everything like rancid smoke¡ªbrought old memories to the fore.


    Memories of looming skyscrapers and fell leviathans. Of walking dead and gray heartfire.


    Aurora, I thought seriously, I need you to protect Wolfrum. Now. Watch over him and make sure nothing gets to him.


    My bond read my thoughts easily enough. The massive construct of bronze bristled slightly, her burning eyes tracing the air around me. But she knew why I asked her such. Knew the need. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Be careful, Toren,¡± she said, no small amount of worry in her tone. ¡°I hope you know what you are doing.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s massive bronze form flew over to where Wolfrum was on the banks, before covering him in a sheltering cocoon of bronze. Her eyes dared any intruder to try.


    I could understand why I¡¯d missed this before. I subconsciously filtered out the innumerable lifeforces of the worms beneath my feet; of the tiny creatures and flitting insects and all that would overwhelm my senses if I were not careful. But unlike what I would have expected, the heartfire of my quarry was just like that.


    I turned in a slow circle in the air, the corpses of the rhinoran and water hydra suddenly seeming like poisoned daggers¨Cbut even so, they were not the greatest threat.


    My Acquire Phase burned hot in my veins as I tried to catch another wisp of that elusive darkness, but it was too subtle. Too faint and distant, like a winter breeze that sends chills down your spine.


    ¡°Scythe Viessa Vritra,¡± I finally said, enhancing the volume with a bare application of sound magic, ¡°I demand to know why you¡¯ve assaulted me. Why you have interrupted me and tried to have me killed.¡±


    That familiar sense of intent made the back of my throat feel like it was prickled with rot¨Cbut that was a sensation I¡¯d experienced before. Way back in the Undead Zone, where cords of intent and grave-still heartfires created an undead legion that sought my soul. And added in the fact that I¡¯d been assaulted by corrupted mana beasts, it wasn¡¯t hard to figure out what exactly had happened.


    I received no response. The air was deathly silent, but not in a tense way. No, the tension itself was dead. Like an abandoned graveyard that had been left to decay without attention or care.


    I pressed outward with my aura, flexing my intent and flaring my power. The red chain along my arm brightened in tune with my agitation. ¡°Can this be considered an act of treason?¡± I snapped, the water around me churning as droplets raised into the air on eddies of power. ¡°To attack one of Scythe Seris¡¯ retinue¨C¡±


    My words cut off in a stutter as warmth radiated wrongly through my body, and I lurched in the air. I stared in disbelief at my chest, fear and horror cutting through my anger as a blade of dark wind thrust through me. Blood streamed down my clothes in horrible waves, sparkling with scarlet mockery.


    I coughed, droplets of blood streaming from my mouth. I tried to call on my heartfire to heal the wound, but it didn¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t respond. I blinked hazily as I listed to the side, part fearful and part in disbelief. The wound was fatal, and my lifeforce wouldn¡¯t respond! Panic began to surge through me as I stared brokenly at where my lungs used to be.


    How had¡­. When had she¡­


    ¡°You know, Toren Daen,¡± an even voice behind me said, ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to tear out your heart. It seems I finally have the justification I need.¡±

 Chapter 235: The Scythe of the Dead

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I toppled from the sky, blood streaming from me in waves. There was a strange lack of pain as I hit the muddy banks of the river with a simple thud, my breathing coming in gasps. I stared mutely up at the sky, trying to pull together a coherent thought. I could feel the ground underneath growing softer as the blood continued to soak into the sand. It seemed to swallow me whole. I was a corpse that was gradually being laid into its final resting place.


    This isn¡¯t it, is it? I thought with a cough, my hands weakly grasping at my chest. My fingers grew sticky and wet as the blood stained my hands. I have¡­ I have so much more I need to do¡­ And¨C


    I thought I could hear something in the distance. A mournful cry of pain and anger. I allowed my head to loll to the side as I watched Aurora¡¯s relic. It was slowly being torn apart by black wind, but there was nothing she could do. She screamed and raged, but nothing. I felt no connection over our bond. No soothing warmth or gentle caress to lull me to sleep.


    Aurora, I thought headily, feeling empty. I didn¡¯t want to die, not out here. I needed to deliver Wolfrum back. I needed to talk to Seris again about her rebellion. I needed to see this world to its future. Aurora, please! Talk¡­ Talk to me, I thought desperately as I slowly died. I pressed out desperately, using every inch of my power. Of my soul.


    There was nothing. No response pushed through the haze in my mind. No helpful measure of warmth soothed my pains or told me I would be okay. My mother remained silent as I slowly succumbed to my wounds.


    That was wrong, somehow. Aurora would never just¡­ abandon me to my fate. But it was as if she wasn¡¯t there at all within my mind. Our bond was as empty as the deserts of Darv, and that made everything hurt even more.


    ¡°The Beast Glades are under my jurisdiction, Spellsong,¡± a woman sneered from above. Scythe Viessa Vritra stared down at me with contempt as red slowly spread around me. Her teal and gray robes were a stark contrast to her deep purple hair. A string of vertebrae stretched from her hip to her shoulder, all strung through with silver cord. ¡°The traitor is mine to take in; not Seris Vritra¡¯s.¡± Her lips curled up into a slight sneer. ¡°A shame you must learn that lesson with your life. Just in time to watch your beast get torn apart.¡±


    Her eyes darted to where Aurora¡¯s relic huddled protectively over Wolfrum¡¯s body. I watched in horror as her bronze form was slowly torn apart, piece by piece. I thought I should be able to feel her pain. She should be fighting.


    My foggy eyes drifted to the gaping wound in my chest. A scarlet river flowed, but even in the depths of my Acquire Phase, I couldn¡¯t see the sparkling motes of aetheric heartfire that always lingered in fresh blood.


    I couldn¡¯t sense the tether between me and Aurora. I couldn¡¯t sense Wolfrum¡¯s intent or hear his heartfire. That didn¡¯t make sense. I should be able to, but for some reason, I couldn¡¯t.


    This is wrong, I thought with more conviction, reaching and grasping. Even if my body refused to move, my mind thrashed in growing vigor. I clawed and ripped and tore my way toward what should be.


    And finally, I felt it. The touch of Aurora¡¯s mind on mine as clarity returned in waves. Our bond was as deep as our souls, and no petty magic could keep it suppressed.


    Rage replaced my existential dread, the unnatural fog over my mind slowly banished by the rising fury of my Phoenix Will. I snarled as Soulplume enveloped my features, a scouring fire cleansing the taint across my mind. Aurora¡¯s touch slowly returned, enforcing my desire and fury.


    Tiny spiderweb cracks spread across my vision, making everything I saw shift and warp unnaturally. I pulled those cracks wider with my mind, flooding them with my rage and fury. Burning red and orange suffused the crevices in my perception.


    And then the world around me fractured like stained glass, the unnatural scene shattering. I only had time to see the illusory Viessa Vritra¡¯s eyes widen in surprise before it all washed away.


    The illusion snapped. I was on my back in the dark, staring up at twin suns that burned with quiet rage. Aurora¡¯s relic wings encircled me in a cocoon of bronze, and I could feel the mana as it battered her like a fell hurricane. She rocked and stumbled with every strike as she sheltered me from the Scythe¡¯s assault, but motes of black power seeped past her every now and then.


    She wouldn¡¯t be able to hold for long.


    ¡°The witch dared,¡± Aurora seethed from above, her eyes flashing. ¡°She dared to touch your mind. Dared to put you under illusion. But you are safe, my son. You are free.¡±


    My bond¡¯s fury stoked my own. Like two fires that fed each other, Soulplume burned hot in my channels as I snarled, rising to my feet. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I realized what had happened.


    My mind, I thought, flashing back to that darkest moment in the depths of the Central Cathedral. That horrible, horrible sensation replayed like a broken record in the recesses of my thoughts: where Agrona had violated my sanctum. She touched my mind.


    Whatever illusion arts Viessa Vritra used, she couldn¡¯t replicate¨Cor didn¡¯t know how to replicate¨Cmy sense of heartfire and intent. And neither did she understand the soul-deep intricacies of Aurora¡¯s bond as it helped pull me from that elusive darkness. She did not comprehend warmth. She did not comprehend companionship.


    Beside me, Wolfrum was unconscious, unable to withstand the pulsing of power that radiated from me like an angry star. I didn¡¯t care.


    I could feel it in the air, even beyond Aurora¡¯s protective embrace. The dead intent as it began to thread toward the corpses around me like snaking rot. I¡¯d fought this before, once upon a time. Deep in the abyss of the Relictombs.


    ¡°I am going to tear her apart,¡± I vowed with a snarl, the feathered runes that ran along my body pulsing. I could feel Aurora¡¯s mind as it drifted near my own, but with my blooming understanding of the soul, it was easier to keep us separate. Her rage was as white-hot as my own, the familiar violation stoking our anger higher than any mana could manage. ¡°She won¡¯t get away with this.¡±


    The ambient mana twisted as Viessa began to focus more on her reanimation spell, the S-class mana beasts I¡¯d just slain rising. Beyond the confines of Aurora¡¯s wings, I could see the veins of unnaturally gray heartfire wash away the red of a fresh kill.


    Aurora and I didn¡¯t speak any longer. We didn¡¯t need to. We simply had a battle to win.


    I erupted from the cover of my bond¡¯s bronze wings, a shroud of white fire protecting me from the gales of void wind that sought to decay everything. I saw Viessa there in the sky as she casually swung an arm, the purple-haired Scythe a living corpse as she tried to swat me down.


    My shrouded plasma blade snapped outward, the white energy deflecting and dissecting the arcs of decaying wind as they came. I could see it now. See Viessa¡¯s unnaturally still heartfire. Feel her unerringly calm intent.


    She couldn¡¯t hide anymore.


    Shrouded wings erupted from my back as I surged upward, streaking for the Scythe in a controlled fury. She backed away with a contemptuous sneer on her face, undaunted by my appearance even as I closed the distance.


    But instead of sinking my blade into her pale flesh, I was forced to deflect the swipe of a monster as it tried to attack me in my domain. The reanimated twinforce thunderbird¡ªits feathers unnaturally dark and crackling with black lightning¡ªsnapped at my head with one of its beaks. The other skull had been torn clean off by Aurora in combat, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t dangerous.


    I deftly avoided the bolt of dark electricity that erupted from its mouth, my red hair standing on end from the discharge. I watched the black electricity as it surged into the air beyond me, my teeth gritted as I built up my power.


    This dread beast thinks it can have the skies, I thought contemptuously, that burning bonfire in my stomach driving my mana onward. Then let it face the master of the winds.


    I retaliated with a wave of pushing force, focusing my mana around the creature¡¯s large wings. The S-class monster¡¯s intent was unnaturally empty as I swatted it from the sky like a bug, its wings crumpling as it smashed through a few trees below. But that distraction was enough for Viessa to vanish once more.


    I dipped low as a cutting arc of streamlined water tried to take off my head, losing a few strands of hair in the process. The water hydra was disturbingly silent as its attack missed me before the beam of hyper-concentrated water slammed hard into Aurora¡¯s feathers. I¡¯d obliterated all of its heads before, but that didn¡¯t seem to be a problem for it. New ones simply formed of solid water that had the appearance of bone.


    The phoenix shade¡ªstill intent on protecting Wolfrum and working hard to keep our minds intact¡ªwas unable to do much other than brace as she was forced back through the mud. We both felt the annoyance of protecting multiple fronts as our enemy taunted us.


    I couldn¡¯t let this dead creature, an abomination against all heartfire, hurt my bond. With barely a second thought, I blurred forward through the air, dipping under a swipe of the hydra¡¯s solid-water tail. My burning eyes focused on the thing¡¯s beast core embedded deep within its bulky body.


    This weakness wouldn¡¯t have been so obvious to me before. But I could feel as the Scythe of Truacia¡¯s reanimation spell dug claws of murky intent into the core, using it as a nexus of control. If I could destroy the core, I would destroy the beast.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly the same method I¡¯d witnessed in the Relictombs, but it was close, adjacent enough.


    I focused my hands, creating a twining current of pushing force that weaved around me. Just in time, the hydra¡¯s focused water-cutter beam erupted from two of its three heads, the attack powerful enough to easily slice through boulders.


    When the water hit my conduit of white force¡ªconcentrated by an effort of will and my increased telekinetic abilities¡ªit was diverted like a stream, the water following the path I set for it.


    Directly toward another enemy as it charged.


    The undead rhinoran had been stampeding toward me from behind, all six of its legs stamping in anticipation of my blood. That dark plate armor, like that of a stalwart knight, was tough enough to shrug off nearly anything.


    But I didn¡¯t need to relieve the beast of its unlife just yet.


    The redirected water cannon slammed into the rhinoran, causing it to miss a step in its six-legged stampede through the shallow river. It didn¡¯t make a sound as it slipped again, its maddened charge turning into an uncontrollable tumble as its dozen-ton body kicked up water and dug a furrow into the mud.


    But the rhinoran wasn¡¯t my main target.


    I surged forward with a flap of shrouded wings, ready to tear out the hydra¡¯s beast core. I was close and fast: far faster than it. All I needed was one good strike; one simple thrust with Inversion, and the hydra would feel the sweet embrace of the Void.


    Unfortunately, the hydra would live a few moments longer. Viessa Vritra appeared beside me in a burst of shadows, a glinting dark dagger in her hands. The scarecrow-pale Scythe sneered with contempt as she thrust it for my core, the path of my trajectory perfectly positioned so that I would impale myself on the blade.


    But I was no simple mage. My abilities in the air were those of the phoenix, and momentum was my ally, not my foe.


    In a split instant, I lashed out with my telekinetic regalia, pulling on both the earth below and the water hydra itself to adjust my trajectory in flashes of white mana. I contorted at an absurd speed, the dark blade scraping along my telekinetic shroud as it missed me entirely.


    Viessa¡¯s void-black eyes widened in shock as I avoided her blow with impossible precision, but I didn¡¯t give her time to recover. I lashed out with a corkscrew twist of my shrouded wings, the razor-sharp feathers burning and vibrating as I unleashed my rage on the Scythe.


    The Scythe of Truacia was ripped apart as if she¡¯d been savaged by a woodchipper. Blood and bone splattered everywhere as she was torn into tiny fleshy chunks.


    Except it wasn¡¯t Viessa. It never had been. I¡¯d known, even from the start. It was only a corpse wrapped in an illusion to look like her. The remains of one of the Bastards Victorious fell into the water in a shower of reflective crimson.


    But Viessa was still out there in the skies somewhere. If I could only get the chance to focus, she would be unable to hide from me. Unable to hide from the sun as it peeled her protections apart and demanded its due.


    Soulplume burned hot in my veins as I weaved away from another cutting arc of void wind that seemed to appear from nowhere. The blade of dark wind traveled through several trees, cutting a deep swathe through the ground. Despite my inner rage, I didn¡¯t let it turn me sloppy as I zipped away from a few more attacks, wary of the undead creatures as they sought my blood.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Viessa¡¯s voice reverberated unnaturally through the air. ¡°To so casually tear apart my illusions¡­ Seris really did find a fascinating specimen, didn¡¯t she? But I wonder if she truly knows you, Spellsong. Knows you as I will. I¡¯ve already tasted the surface of your thoughts, and they were so full of flavor.¡±


    ¡°For one granted the title of Scythe,¡± I rebutted with an impassive expression, ¡°you are fond of running and hiding. Like a serpent in the grass, you only sink your fangs in when you believe your prey is weak. But you know not what you have provoked, lessuran. So I will show you.¡±


    There was nothing we despised more than the conniving serpent. Nothing we despised more than the slithering creature that stole from the minds of others, uncaring of the boundaries set in place.


    ¡°Please, Spellsong,¡± Viessa retorted casually from everywhere and nowhere, ¡°you should be honored. Rarely do I ever allow myself to try.¡±


    A hurricane of black wind grew into existence around me, twisting and howling as it picked up speed at an exponential pace. The warm kiss of the sun was denied as a torrent of void wind blotted out everything in a fifteen-foot radius.


    I only had a second to brace.


    I brought my wings in front of me in a protective maneuver as the hurricane imploded, collapsing inward like the start of a supernova. It howled and raged, tearing and decaying my protections. My skin splintered and broke as I was thrown about, my shrouded wings weathering away. I was like a songbird in a thunderstorm¨Cany adjustment I could make would only lead to more despair and anguish as the world itself raged.


    But I refused to let this Scythe¡ªthis tormentor of minds¡ªclaim the skies from me. Even as cuts and tears opened along my body and my magic struggled to fight back against the gales, I wouldn¡¯t allow this creature the satisfaction.


    Because even under this torrent of cutting blades, I could still see. And I could still hear.


    Scythe Viessa would not escape me.


    Thrusting a hand out, I focused on my magic, before slamming fire and sound mana together. A burning sphere of white hummed into existence on my palm even as my heartfire fought to heal me from all the abuse my body was taking. Like a single drop of white paint amidst a bucket of black, it swirled in a mesmerizing way, giving me something to focus on.


    ¡°You cannot hide from the light,¡± I said under my breath, my eyes brightening. ¡°It will always find you.¡±


    That sphere became a beam of white plasma as it cut through the black tempest without care, burning toward my target. The sight of it was enchanting and deadly all at once.


    The hurricane of decay winked out as Viessa was forced to dodge, the line of white energy humming as it carved a path through her body. I could sense it as my attack landed.


    I stared at the Scythe far across from me as the winds became as dead as her creatures. I turned up my chin as my wounds healed over under an application of lifeforce, the aches and pains washing away.


    The Scythe winced as she clutched her stomach, a hole the size of a baseball drilled clear through her midriff, just barely below her core. Black blood dribbled from her chin as she stared at me with annoyance and pain. Her tassels of vertebrae swayed slightly, her trophies barely spared the fire.


    ¡°See your arrogance, Scythe,¡± I said, my breath steaming as it left my mouth. ¡°You will not¨C¡±


    Something struck me hard along the side. My telekinetic shroud splintered as I shot down toward the riverbed, my senses in disarray for the barest moment. I skipped across the water several times like a stone before I finally had the wherewithal to adjust. I feverishly worked to understand what had hit me.


    The water hydra, I thought, allowing myself to calm slightly. My rage focused me. It made me strong, made me determined. But it also blocked out my other senses¨Cand the undead beasts were already difficult to detect by my standards. It has no intent and its heartfire is vague. It is almost a blindspot to my normal senses, and I allowed it to hit me.


    ¡°I always hated using beasts,¡± Viessa¡¯s pained voice echoed from everywhere as she vanished once more, her tricky illusions and low-simmering heartfire making her a poor matchup for me. ¡°So crude and emotionless. They have more power, but they are not interesting. Do you want to know what I prefer?¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Twisting my body, I reoriented with ease as I caught my momentum. I skated backward along the river as I kept my senses peeled for the vanishing Scythe, who had once again become less than a wisp of air. The undead hydra charged toward me without making a single sound, the water carrying it against the current. Its corrupted carapace drank in the light of the sun like a gaping maw.


    It seeks my blood, I thought at the speed of the wind itself, but it will not¨C


    But then something blocked out the sun above me. I only had a moment to feel surprised before the reanimated steelhorn rhinoran bore down on me, all six limbs ready to mash me into a paste.


    I whirled with unbelievable speed, raising my hands and pressing outward with my telekinetic regalia just before those metallic feet came down like the hammer of a Sovereign.


    The river consumed me as the rhinoran stamped its feet, the mindless beast trying to trample me underneath what must have been over a dozen tons of bulk. My telekinetic shroud cracked and splintered over and over as the monster rained attack after attack down on me, bruises appearing all along my body as my bones cracked.


    Water constantly streamed in around us, then was flung back again as the rhinoran tried to drown and crush me in equal measure. My aura of forced calm began to slip as each blow rattled through me. My heart beat thunderously in my chest, and Aurora¡¯s soul inched closer and closer to mine. My bones broke and then were reknit in equal measure by my heartfire as I fought not to succumb.


    It¡¯s stronger than it was when it was alive, I thought with gritted teeth, rolling away from a foot thicker than the greatest Charwood Tree in Epheotus. I retaliated with a vibrating punch to its steel body, feeling as the sound mana traveled through its flesh in an exact mirror of what had slain it in the first place, but the monster didn¡¯t even flinch. Even as its flesh was pulped beneath its armor and its form gradually wore away, the corpse continued to thrash. A synergy between the corruption in its veins and the lessuran¡¯s horrid magics. I need to destroy the core! That is the only way!


    It didn¡¯t matter how great a warrior I was; it didn¡¯t matter how many battles I had won. If this continued, I would become less than a red smear on the bottom of the river.


    The rhinoran reared up on its rearmost legs, water crashing around us. The creature¡ªeasily greater in stature than many prey I had hunted¡ªreadied itself to finish this. Even though it had no intent or mind to guide it, I could almost imagine a victorious glint in its empty eyes.


    I allowed more mana to flow from my core, my body aching as I prepared. Were this beast under its free will and not a reanimated corpse, I would have thought it worthy prey. A foe well bested, something to hold with pride.


    But I allowed my sunlit eyes to stare into the empty sockets of the creature as I prepared my spells, and I knew it was but a puppet. A tool meant to be thrown away once its usefulness was done. There was no vicious shine of victory in its eyes, only an undead void.


    Then the monster came down, tons upon tons of weight ready to bear me into the dirt. I raised my hands as I braced, my heart beating for one instant. Heartfire thrummed along my veins as I raised my arms in defiance, my mana channels widening momentarily. Strength almost like that I had once known flowed through me like liquid fire.


    And I caught the creature¡¯s feet as they tried to crater in my skull. A shockwave rippled out as I was forced into the muddy riverbed, sinking up to my shins as I took the blow head-on. I growled as Resonant Flow thrummed across my body, granting me superhuman strength beyond what mana could normally provide. Beyond what my body was Sculpted to withstand. As my heart clenched, I pushed outward with a wave of telekinetic force more powerful than any I¡¯d ever used before.


    The rhinoran, which must have only known the restrictive grasp of gravity all of its life, finally earned the chance to fly. It surged dozens of feet in the air as my power rippled outward, forcing it up like a child¡¯s toy.


    It hung there in the sky for a few precious heartbeats, its dark steel armor blocking out the sun above. Its grave-still heartfire didn¡¯t even fluctuate as I prepared to finish the monster off, Resonant Flow fading away as its purpose was served.


    But then I caught something out of the periphery of my vision.


    The undead rhinoran crashed into the riverbank with a thunderous rumble that made the very earth shake, but I didn¡¯t have time to capitalize on it. I whirled with my shrouded saber as I prepared to bisect the corpse that neared me.


    And I froze, the humming white of my blade almost poised to cut my enemy in two.


    Norgan stood there on the surface of the water, his short brown hair and mischievous eyes glinting. Not exactly as I remembered him¡ªhe didn¡¯t have that casual slouch I¡¯d always known. He was more relaxed. An easy smile was on his face, an unfamiliar smirk there. I could see my burning eyes reflected in his own as I stared not in disbelief. Not in awe.


    But in anger once more.


    The thing wearing an illusion of Norgan¡¯s skin thrust a blood-iron spike into my thigh, but I didn¡¯t give the witch that puppeteered it the satisfaction of even a grunt. A wave of white fire, fueled by the depths of my hatred, burned the puppeteered corpse¡ªno doubt another of the Bastards Victorious¡ªto less than ash.


    ¡°So quick,¡± Viessa¡¯s voice crooned from the winds. ¡°So quick to burn your brother to dust, Spellsong. Such an interesting fixation you have with that one in all of your thoughts. You want brotherhood again so much, don¡¯t you? You want to know other people. To understand them. That¡¯s why you¡¯re so quick to latch onto them all, isn¡¯t it? Because you¡¯re just so lonely,¡± she mocked with a faux-understanding expression.


    My pupils burned as rage suffused my very soul, Viessa¡¯s words stoking a deep fire. A fiery hatred borne from both Aurora and Toren. This witch had invaded our minds. And now, because she had ripped and torn, she thought she knew me. Thought she knew us. She thought she understood us.


    I had managed to quell my anger before. To keep myself calm and collected. But why should we be? Why should we not embrace this emotion, this power?


    ¡°How many more of your friends will you kill, Toren?¡± Viessa¡¯s voice said, brushing against my ear as I clenched my fists. ¡°Who else will you condemn to death with your foolish actions? I want to know. Don¡¯t you?¡±


    The water hydra was almost upon me, and I knew the steelhorn rhinoran was struggling to pull itself back to its feet. Viessa was somewhere around here, watching and stalking. Like an ambush predator waiting for its prey to succumb to their venom.


    That intent of hers tasted like polluted river water now as she spoke. She thought herself superior. Thought herself the victor. But she was a fool.


    I wrenched the blood-iron dagger from my thigh, already feeling the fatigue as it burned through my veins. I washed the wound away in a wave of orange-purple light. Resonant Flow was not a technique to be used lightly, and though I was able to manage it better now that I was in the white core, it still came with a cost that made my limbs feel like they were jelly. Keeping Soulplume active for so long was already taking its toll.


    It was time I finished this.


    I stood to my full height as I watched the water hydra approach through the shallow river, setting my jaw. ¡°You have made a mistake, Viessa Vritra,¡± I said with a voice as melodic as it was deadly. ¡°Do you know what that was?¡±


    I held my hands out, closing my eyes. For a bare moment, I allowed myself to drift away from the battle. From the charging beast in front of me. From the dangers and hopes and worries and fury.


    And I allowed myself to hear. Heartbeats, the splash of water, the hum of mana¡­ I heard it all in unerringly clear detail. I absorbed it like a man dying of thirst, incorporating it deeper and deeper. Aurora guided me along with steady hands as I quested out, the world itself seeming to slow.


    And finally, I heard the resonance of the mana itself.


    I slammed my palms together in a resounding clap that rattled the world. An omnidirectional wave of sound magic rippled outward with an oil-like sheen, a warbling effect causing the light to bend and twist. It oscillated at a particular frequency, one I¡¯d listened for. One I¡¯d searched desperately to latch on to.


    Suddenly, Viessa Vritra¡¯s illusions were torn away like water washing away a stain. As the frequency of my sound spell interfered and overrode the Scythe¡¯s spellform¨Ccomposed partially of sound magic¨Cshe was stripped of her mask. The air fuzzed as the Scythe was revealed to plain sight.


    I locked eyes with Viessa as the water hydra bore down on me. I weaved out of the way of its stale and predictable jaws. These beasts were dead, and they bore no capacity for intellect, no drive for creativity.


    Every movement was rigid and rehearsed. And with simple observation, it became less than a challenge. I swung my shrouded saber as the water hydra tried to swallow me once more, imbuing my blade with every ounce of deadly precision I had.


    An arc of white plasma sheared through the undead chitinous creature, the water boiling in its wake. On and on the energy went as it buried itself like a living thing, searching for its prey.


    And then it struck the mana beast¡¯s core, cutting it neatly in two.


    I continued on, uncaring even as the hydra fell apart around me like a rainstorm. The solid-water monster could no longer bear the weight of its existence, the binding effect of its beast core finally absent as it collapsed in a sudden shower. The water sizzled where it touched my skin.


    My body protested the continued use of Soulplume and my mana channels burned from exertion, but I didn¡¯t let that stop me. That rare rage pulled me onward, my aura flexing and the ambient mana churning around me.


    The Scythe hovered far away in the sky, her robes unnervingly still. She looked like a doll, one that had a painted mask. Unlike Seris¡¯ facial expressions¡ªwhich always seemed deliberate and graceful¡ªthere was something mechanical and enforced about Viessa¡¯s. Even her surprise and uncertainty looked like it was hauled into place by a machine.


    ¡°You feel fear, don¡¯t you?¡± I asked, tilting my head as I stopped for a moment. The lake was unnaturally still beneath my feet despite the utter devastation around me. ¡°You know in your core, Scythe. You understand that you have touched something that you should not have.¡±


    Viessa didn¡¯t offer any inflection on her face as she stared at me, more corpse than human. Her black heartfire twisted in her chest. ¡°So arrogant to presume you can best a Scythe, Spellsong,¡± she said in challenge. ¡°What, because you know a few parlor tricks, you think you can overcome me? You think I feel fear for you?¡± she said with a forced laugh.


    I allowed a soft smile to stretch across my face. ¡°You don¡¯t really fear me, even though you should, lessuran. No, you fear something else.¡±


    The air around us was dead, just as before. Empty. Devoid of purpose or will.


    The flare of Viessa¡¯s nostrils was the only indicator my words had an effect. She waved her hand, conjuring an obscuring wave of black wind. In the same instant, I blurred forward with a mindfire stamp, my wings flashing as plasma thrummed along their feathers.


    I tore through the Scythe¡¯s enshrouding wall with minimal effort, the dark wind popping and hissing where it met white plasma. Like a strange weave of yin and yang, the two battled and danced with each other before I finally surged through.


    Viessa¡¯s eyes widened as she tried to backpedal from me. I swung Inversion, the shrouded saber searching for the Scythe¡¯s throat as I bore down on her. She hastily conjured blades of dark wind that tracked and cut, but my saber sliced through them with ease.


    I pressured the Scythe backward. It was a dance of white fire and burning strikes, each attempting to pierce her heart. Viessa matched my every strike with a retaliatory torrent of power and decay, even as I kept on the offensive. The Vritra-blooded lessuran was fast¡ªthe fastest lessuran I¡¯d ever fought. But with Soulplume in my veins and the guiding arts of the Asclepius Clan, this was a battle the Scythe was destined to lose.


    Her power was in her illusions. In her undead minions. But once I tore that mask away and faced the wretch beneath, there was no contest. My shrouded saber scored a cut along her side. Then along her pale white cheek. And another beneath her hip.


    For every two cuts I gave the Scythe, I received one in turn. My hands ached from how I clenched Inversion as blood streamed from my shoulder and chest, but I ignored it. I focused my attention on dominating this enemy in the air.


    The purple-haired Scythe spun like a top, blades of wind erupting from her like a thresher as they tore through my magics. My eyes flashed as I saw an opportunity, the runes on my arms glowing brighter for an instant.


    Viessa must have seen the glint of victory in my eyes, because I finally sensed her intent crack. I weaved through her wind blades, then lashed out with my shrouded wings, which I hadn¡¯t used before this moment. Caught entirely by surprise, Viessa¡¯s hands¨Cboth outstretched to project those blades¨Cwere speared through the palms in a splatter of crimson.


    The Scythe¡¯s arms were forced apart, my wings making it seem as if she were being crucified. Black liquid too dark to be blood ran in rivers down my crystal clear wings as I hefted the Scythe upward, preparing to drive my shrouded saber forward and through her core. It approached as if in slow motion, humming with power as it sought her chest. And finally. Finally, I sensed the purple-haired scarecrow¡¯s delectable fear. Viessa¡¯s void-black eyes widened as she saw doom. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Viessa screamed. Her locks of purple hair flared like snakes as she defied my killing stroke. A tempest of fell wind erupted from her center in an exponentially increasing riptide. I was blown backward as the expanding sphere of decaying wind slammed into me, sending me hurtling back down toward the river. As I went, however, I deliberately wrenched my wings free, unwilling to let go of my prey so simply.


    I evened out over the water, taking a deep breath as I funneled white fire along my wings to free them of that tainted blood. I stared upward impassively, even as my core ached.


    Viessa glared down at me with a snarl on her face, her hands torn to bloody, unrecognizable pulps and a single burn mark right over her sternum where she¡¯d barely avoided being impaled. She snarled like a rabid animal as soulfire cleansed over her many wounds, her true emotions breaking free at last. The Scythe panted for breath as she finally seemed to recognize the danger she put herself in. At last, she understood that if we were to continue it would be to the death.


    ¡°You are foolish, Scythe,¡± I said evenly. ¡°Do you see it now? Your illusions are nothing. Your craft is nothing. You will lose this fight.¡±


    And as this battle finally reached a pause, I gave myself time to think. Time to plan without that effervescent rage coursing through my body. And I reached an unfortunate conclusion.


    I tilted my head, staring up at the Scythe. I didn¡¯t let it show, but I felt the burning in my limbs. The ache in my mind and pressure in my soul as I fought to keep Aurora and I distinct. ¡°Leave me to my task, Scythe of Truacia,¡± I ordered, clenching my fists. ¡°Or I will be forced to kill you.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s breathing finally evened out as she glared at me, her mask returning. Beyond me, I noticed that her undead beasts yet unliving¡ªthe rhinoran and thunderbird¡ªdid not attack. They waited under the silent command of their master at the edges of the riverbank like loyal hounds.


    I wanted to kill Viessa. For touching my mind and the deep violation it had caused. I wanted to tear her apart for daring to violate my sanctum, for daring to make me remember the putrid touch of Agrona.


    But as I thought of it more, I realized that I couldn¡¯t afford to, not unless I was forced into a corner. I had no doubt the power we were putting off could be sensed by relevant parties across the Beast Glades, and that meant if I managed to kill Viessa, which I was confident I could, then there would be no doubt as to who had done it. That would bring undue scrutiny not just to me and my mission here, but to Seris.


    ¡°Petty threats from one so small,¡± Viessa sneered, but I could see the mirrored calculations behind her eyes as she debated the value of continuing this battle. ¡°Are you willing to die to keep your prisoner?¡±


    ¡°Are you?¡± I countered sharply, shifting my stance.


    Silence. The doll-like Scythe considered me for a long, long moment as she hovered in the sky, and my fingers twitched in anticipation. The world held its breath as I prepared to end the Scythe if necessary.


    Finally, Viessa did something I hadn¡¯t expected. She smiled forcibly, her aura receding as she reigned in her mana. She stared at me with a look that made goosebumps trail along my skin. ¡°An interesting man you are, Spellsong,¡± she said slowly, ¡°not like most. So much more complex. I only scratched at the surface of your thoughts, but I could taste the roiling inner demons you have. And I want to know why a simple peek inspired such anger.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as the Scythe lowered herself slightly. She wouldn¡¯t let herself simply back down. She sounded like she was done with this fight, that she wouldn¡¯t push it anymore. But there was another catch here. ¡°You saw what happened to Jaggrette,¡± I replied angrily, my hair flaring slightly as my limbs ached. ¡°Touch my mind again, Scythe, and yours will burn. I care not for what petty reasons you have. What justification you believe you bear. I will scour you from the face of the earth if you approach my sanctum.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change as she finally settled across from me on the water. ¡°Your sanctum?¡± she questioned, her eyes widening slightly, like an interested cat. ¡°It¡¯s nothing so grand, Spellsong. Minds are made to be picked apart. They are made to be dissected. And yours is no different.¡±


    I sneered in disgust. ¡°Except we both know that¡¯s not why you try to torment us,¡± I retorted sharply. ¡°For one who can feel barely anything at all, it must be so tantalizing to be able to see all that everyone else knows,¡± I taunted with an impassive face. I savored how Viessa¡¯s eyes widened in growing rage¡ªone of the only emotions I¡¯d been able to sense over her intent¡ªas my guess was proven correct.


    I allowed my shoulders to relax as I laughed mockingly, the Scythe standing rigidly across from me as if frozen by aevum. ¡°I can sense all you feel, witch,¡± I laughed darkly. ¡°Imagine my surprise at how dull it all was. At how little you felt.¡±


    At first, I¡¯d believed Viessa to be like Seris. Utterly in control of herself and her emotions, able to project whatever she needed. But that wasn¡¯t the case, was it?


    Something in Viessa¡¯s mind was broken. Altered. Corrupted in some way. And like an even more twisted Frankenstein¡¯s monster that sought true human company, Viessa Vritra sought to tear understanding from the minds of others.


    ¡°So try, Viessa Vritra,¡± I said. ¡°Try and touch my mind again. I guarantee you that all you shall find is fire. You will feel only the flames of hell.¡±


    Viessa¡¯s nostrils flared in suppressed rage as she stared at me, her mana churning darkly underneath the surface. But we both knew she was at the end of her reserves. She would be unable to act on any threat she made.


    ¡°You think you understand so, so much, Spellsong,¡± she sneered, her purple hair flaring around her. ¡°You think yourself so knowledgeable. You¡¯ve figured out everything, haven¡¯t you? It all fits into place in your wretched little skull.But you know nothing. Scythe Seris knows nothing.¡±


    Her eyes were black as coals as they promised retribution. As they promised me a miserable, horrible death. ¡°This war has changed, Toren Daen. The objective has changed. And you will only learn of the glorious purpose when it is too late for our kind.¡±


    A forced smile curled along Viessa¡¯s lips as she forced a corpse-like grin onto her pale face. ¡°I will savor your end, Spellsong, and I will crucify your corpse.¡±


    The mana around us echoed with the threat, and despite my confidence, I found myself considering if I should end her here. If I should take the risk to Seris¡¯ operations and my cover and simply drive my plasma blade through her chest.


    Before I could make a decision, however, the Scythe spun on her heels, allowing the mana to carry her away. Her undead beasts followed after her, before eventually, an illusion washed over them all and blocked them from my sight.


    I watched the direction in which they¡¯d gone for a long, long time, my ears hyper-attuned to every shift in the breeze as I listened for any indication that this was a trap. As I searched for the oscillating buzz of sound magic or the whisper-quiet thump of Viessa¡¯s heartfire.


    When I was certain I was alone, I finally allowed Soulplume to retreat back into my core. I immediately fought against the urge to collapse. Like a man who had grown accustomed to carrying a heavy weight only noticing his exhaustion in the aftermath, it washed over me all at once. My limbs felt like mush and my heart ached from using Resonant Flow that single time. My mind felt foggy from the constant effort of keeping Aurora¡¯s soul from eclipsing my own.


    I sagged over the water, blinking sweat from my brow, Viessa¡¯s parting threat sitting darkly in my skull. I turned tiredly toward where Aurora¡¯s relic still waited.


    I floated closer, feeling a complicated churning of emotions in the depths of my mind. The ominous words of Viessa Vritra stuck with me like a pervasive itch alongside a dozen other questions. Why had she been here in the first place? Was she tracking me, or Wolfrum? What was her goal, really?


    I constantly questioned if I had been in the right or not, allowing her to leave. Should I have thrown caution to the wind and simply driven my blade through her heart? If I did, could I effectively cover up our battle? And if I tried, could I still catch up to the retreating Scythe and finish her off right now?


    I felt as if I¡¯d been the puppet of some sort of play, but I didn¡¯t know what part I¡¯d acted or what the play even was. The entire clash felt wrong, and though I knew Viessa hadn¡¯t counted on me being so powerful, I questioned why it had happened in the first place.


    ¡°I agree with you,¡± Aurora thought to me over our bond as she stared at me from forty feet of soulcast metal. ¡°It is unusual. The Scythe¡¯s stated motivations were the capture of the traitor I shelter beneath my wings, but her true intent was always you. She wanted to kill you from the start, but we did not allow it.¡±


    I leaned against Aurora¡¯s wings for a moment, giving myself a few minutes to breathe as I went over this in my mind. I need to tell Seris about this, I decided, because something is wrong here. I don¡¯t know what Viessa truly wants, but her statement at the end¡­ I felt she really believed it. She believed that Seris knew nothing. She held it with conviction.


    I only allowed myself a minute of respite before I began my trek back toward Burim with my prisoner in tow, my thoughts uneasy and my steps burdened.

 Chapter 236: One Broken Boy

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Grey


    I never liked the rain before. Distantly, I remembered dreading getting rained on and drenched as I rushed along the back alley streets of my home, hoping alongside Nico that I could make it to the orphanage before it was too late.


    On more than one occasion, my former friend and I failed to beat the stormfront. Nearly every time, Nico wound up with a cold that would keep him down for an entire week.


    ¡°Come on, Grey,¡± Nico¡¯s voice said as I gave him my rain jacket one day. ¡°You¡¯ll get sick if you do that! How many times do I have to tell you? Just keep the godforsaken jacket!¡±


    Lightning crashed overhead, and thunder rolled.


    ¡°My body¡¯s a lot stronger than yours, Nico,¡± phantom-Grey replied. Wilbeck¡¯s orphanage couldn¡¯t afford many clothes, and the rainjacket was the only one we had to spare. ¡°I won¡¯t get sick from this. Now shut up and get home already!¡±


    The rain fell around me in heavy splashes as it soaked through my uniform, ghosts of my past running and darting through the alleyway. Grey¡¯s smile, Nico¡¯s mischievous grin.


    I ignored them, even as the cool brush of the downfall cascaded down my back and along my neck. My hair clung to my head in wheat-blonde clumps as I stared impassively at the building not far beyond.


    ¡°King Grey, sir,¡± a hesitant voice said from behind me. One of the members of the Ki Enforcement Team who were ready to act under my orders. ¡°If you¡¯re soaked by the rain, then¡­¡±


    I turned imperceptibly, observing the woman who had spoken with dull eyes. She swallowed, her tactical dark vest and helmet providing protection from the elements. She quickly averted her brown eyes from mine.


    I returned to my observation. Behind me, a team of seven men and women¨Call expertly trained in ki combat and the extermination of ki artists¨Cwaited on standby. They only needed the word.


    My hand rested leisurely on the pommel of my sword, the grip made of studded leather that wouldn¡¯t fail me even when wet.


    A blade was useless if it could not be held, if it could not be directed to tear through flesh. There was no purpose to unwieldy steel.


    Lightning flashed, and I caught sight of a hooded figure as they raced toward a two-story building across from the alley where I was currently stationed. They shuffled uncertainly, trying to see through the rain as they swiveled all around, their gloved hands fidgeting with the lock.


    They didn¡¯t see us. The illuminating flash of lightning had already passed, and now there was only thunder.


    The man rushed into the building, before slamming the door shut behind him. Several seconds passed.


    ¡°Target Zeta has entered the premises,¡± a sharp, militaristic voice said over the earbud in my ear. ¡°All targets are within bounds. Permission to proceed?¡±


    My hand clenched around the pommel of my sword as I glanced back at my team. All seven were ready and waiting to do what needed to be done. They would act as the tools they were.


    I turned back to the building, raising a hand to my ear to enable communication. ¡°Permission granted.¡±


    I waved my hand in a series of simple gestures, signing to the team behind me. Not waiting to see if they heard, I called a bare sliver of energy from my ki center, allowing it to flow along the pathways of my meridians.


    I darted forward, the rain slick on my skin as I utilized a wind-style ki art that was designed to muffle the steps and eliminate all sound. Even as my boots splashed through the water as I approached the building, no sound rippled over the cascading downpour.


    I reached the edge of the doorway in no time. I crouched low, my hand on the handle of my sword. I observed the many windows analytically as I waited by the entrance, giving my men a few seconds to reach their targets.


    A heartbeat later, the seven in my squad fell in around me, blending in with their dark tactical gear as they hugged the cover of the wall. Most of the windows were boarded up, but a few allowed the barest sliver of light out.


    There were two other teams that worked to surround the structure entirely. The south entrance and the uppermost fire escapes were all watched by long-distance snipers.


    Our targets would have no way to escape.


    ¡°On zero,¡± I said into the earbud. My heartbeat was slow and even in my chest. I raised my hand, holding out three fingers.


    ¡°Three,¡± I whispered over the microphone in my ear and the elites nearby.


    I slowly drew my sword, the sound silent as a mother¡¯s breath. My blade was black as pitch, the carbon steel ki alloy explicitly designed not to reflect light. Most wouldn¡¯t even see it coming before it was far too late.


    I lowered one finger, the elites around me tensing and preparing their weapons.


    ¡°Two,¡± I continued, my intent calm and steady.


    I readied my meager ki pool, recalling the layout of the room and what the plan was. Three rooms to target, one central meeting area where all six prime targets would be located. That was where we would strike first¨Chard and fast.


    ¡°One,¡± I said, noting a member of the squad preparing a flashbang in their hands as they stood near the window.


    I took a single breath. No lightning came to mark the moment.


    ¡°Zero.¡±


    All the lights in the building went out at once as my team cut the power. I imagined what little light our targets had now suddenly became an abyss of uncertainty and fear.


    The soldier behind me stood sharply, pulling the pin out of the flashbang, before hurling it through the window. Glass shattered as the little cylinder tapped against the ground, and for an instant I could hear the panicked shouts of the men inside.


    I closed my eyes and funneled ki to my ears. The flashbang exploded in a burst of light and ringing sound.


    I stood in one swift movement, rearing back a foot before kicking in the door. I had to press harder than was normal due to my pathetic reserves, but all the same, the lock shattered.


    I burst into the meeting room, instantly taking in the layout. It was exactly as we¡¯d planned. A simple hardwood floor and no other rooms, meaning there was nowhere to run to. Only a single, vast chamber.


    Three of our targets were rolling on the ground, screaming, moaning, or otherwise insensate from the flashbang grenade. One¨CTarget Gamma¨Cseemed to have struck his head as he went down.


    But three were unsurprisingly active, already scrambling to take control of the situation. My focus zeroed in on one man in particular¨CTarget Zeta, an older man named Holden Drutha. He was already drawing a blade at his side as his wrinkled face contorted in confusion and surprise.


    I rushed him, driving my sword forward in a simple stab that would tear out his ki center. Holden managed to twist out of the way, his slightly-drawn blade turning mine aside. Instead of running him through, my weapon carved a thin line of red across his chest.


    Surprising reflexes for an old veteran. I exhaled sharply through my nose, pivoting and changing my simple stab into a fire-style cut that sought to disable his hand.


    Holden barely parried it, but he was able to reorient himself before my blade pierced his chest. In a shower of sparks, the aged commander backpedaled, breathing heavily with eyes blown wide as they took in my appearance.


    ¡°King Grey, what the hell? What are you doing¨C¡±


    Silenced gunshots echoed behind me as members of my team finished off the downed targets. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed as Gamma and Epsilon attempted to flee toward one of the side windows. The scent of gunpowder mixed with the ozone of rain.


    ¡°Ensure the Trayden ambassador doesn¡¯t escape,¡± I said evenly, my focus on the war veteran across from me. ¡°She is necessary. Do not end her yet.¡±


    Holden¡¯s eyes darkened with rage as he saw my team behind me perform their duty. He rushed me with a snarl, more ki in his steps than I¡¯d ever experienced in mine. ¡°Do you have any idea what you have done?!¡± he demanded, swinging his blade furiously.


    I ducked his attack, then pivoted to the side to avoid a slash that carved a deep cut into the floorboards. My ki center pulsed as I swung my blade across the back of Holden¡¯s knee.


    Holden howled in pain as the ki protecting him dented, but it didn¡¯t break. I angled my blade to the side as the councilman cut toward my throat, allowing the blades to skate by each other in a shower of sparks. Any lesser swordsman would have been slain in the first few exchanges with Holden.


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    But I was no normal swordsman. I utilized a wind-style movement art to flow away from the old commander¡¯s heavy strikes, the sound of his heavy breathing echoing in my ears. His hair was mussed as he tried to fight for his life.


    Another silenced shot rang out.


    Epsilon is done, then, I thought, kicking the back of Holden¡¯s knee with an unempowered strike as he stepped forward. This wasn¡¯t enough to break his ki barrier yet, either, but I succeeded in my objective.


    Holden¡¯s balance slipped as he tried to plant his foot. Where he would normally have been able to easily readjust, a combination of age and my earlier blow made him stumble.


    His eyes darkened as they met my own, both of us knowing this was a fatal mistake. His earth style of bladework was extremely versatile and had an absurdly strong defense, but the moment you shattered it?


    I brought my blade down hard on the back of Holden¡¯s knee, and this time, his ki barrier shattered. I leisurely avoided a haphazard last swing from the old man, retaliating with a snap of my blade toward his knuckles.


    He dropped his sword with a grunt, but that quickly turned into a howl of pain as I slashed the edge of my blade across the back of his unprotected knee. Blood sprayed across the eerily silent meeting room as his tendon was severed.


    Holden seethed as he tried to reach out toward his blade. I sighed, then picked it up, inspecting the crest emblazoned on the hilt.


    That of the Council of Etharia.


    ¡°You¡¯re a monster!¡± Holden raged. I looked down, surprised to see tears in the old commander¡¯s eyes. Tears of sadness and despair. ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯ve done? You¡¯ve ruined us all!¡±


    My eyes roamed over what was left of the room. While I¡¯d engaged with Holden¨Cwho was undoubtedly the greatest threat¨Cthe rest of the black ops team had quickly and effectively dealt with the rest of the targets at this meeting.


    Two Etharian councilmembers¨Cmembers I knew well from our constant meetings¨Cstared up with empty eyes at the ceiling, gunshot wounds in their chest. Beside them, two of the last remaining ambassadors from Trayden bore matching gunshots as their life¡¯s blood drained into the floorboards.


    The seven that had joined me stood silently at the edges of the room, one last target left alive. Target Gamma.


    ¡°Millions will die, boy! You horrid fool!¡± Holden yelled, lunging for me in a last-ditch effort. I simply edged to the side, allowing his momentum to carry his jaw into my outstretched knee.


    The veteran commander¡¯s teeth smashed together as he collapsed to the side, groaning as he wept. ¡°You don¡¯t know,¡± he seethed. ¡°You don¡¯t know what this will do. We were trying to achieve peace! Peace! That¡¯s why we met with the Traydens!¡±


    I left the man on the ground, strolling toward the last target left alive. The Trayden woman stared up at me in a daze, clearly still rattled by the flashbang and the flurry of events around her. I looked into her eyes as I clenched my hands around Holden¡¯s council sword.


    ¡°I know why you were here,¡± I said to Holden, my voice devoid of inflection. ¡°To broker peace between Etharia and Trayden with the last of their ambassadors. You wanted to try and ensure war would not erupt between our nations; to make sure all our allies and enemies would not leap into another regional catastrophe.¡±


    I could feel Holden¡¯s horrified eyes on my back as I inspected the silver metal of his blade. It was the same sheen of metal that had torn Cecilia from this world. The same color Lady Vera had drilled me with over and over again, all in her ambitions to steal the Legacy.


    I didn¡¯t know if my former mentor had truly ordered the murder of Headmaster Wilbeck. I didn¡¯t know if she¡¯d taken everything from me I had ever loved.


    Lady Vera had been too weak to survive her punishments, and I still did not have my answers. I still had not made things right. I had not avenged Wilbeck.


    But there was one way I could.


    Holden began to rage and scream as I hefted his blade, leveraging it over the final Trayden ambassador¡¯s sternum. She seemed to finally realize something was off, finally coming back to her senses as a trickle of blood streamed down her blouse.


    I rammed the blade through. It parted skin, muscle, and bone with ease as it erupted out the other side. I watched the light vanish from her eyes, her only expression a mute ¡®o¡¯ as she bled out onto the floor.


    I found no satisfaction there.


    I turned around, leaving the blade inside the corpse as it slumped weakly to the floor. I strolled back over to Commander Holden, one of the very few men who was old enough to have been through war and see its horrors and intricacies.


    And right now, that aged veteran¨Cwho had served on the Council of Etharia for thirty years¨Cwas weeping quiet tears as he stared up at me.


    ¡°Holden Drutha, war hero and arbiter of justice for Etharia, tried to make peace with our enemies,¡± I said in an empty drawl. ¡°In one last act of hope, he tried to meet with the remaining ambassadors for Trayden to negotiate peace terms. He hoped to avoid the upcoming war.¡±


    My eyes flicked to the elites behind me, all silent. ¡°But the Etharians were betrayed. Holden Drutha was led into a trap, he and his fellow councilors slaughtered to a man. But before he fell, Drutha managed to pierce his blade through one of the treacherous Traydens.¡±


    My men hefted the corpses of the deceased Trayden ambassadors, but they left the one I had impaled with Holden¡¯s distinct sword. They streamed past me as I stared down at the broken man at my feet.


    Holden laughed without humor as his wrinkled face was stained wet with both tears and blood. ¡°All my life, I¡¯ve fought for this country, only for a dictator to drive us to destruction. A warmonger to become everything I¡¯d feared.¡± He stared up at me. ¡°Who knew that one broken boy could topple kingdoms?¡± S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I tilted my head as I leveraged my sword. ¡°Justice will be done, Holden,¡± I said with iron. ¡°Know that, wherever the wind takes your soul, all crimes will be answered soon.¡±


    I swiped the edge of my sword across his throat.


    ¡ª


    The Council of Etharia was in an uproar. Men and women shouted at each other, fighting to be heard in the chaos. The emergency meeting had been called at the news received barely an hour ago.


    The charred bodies of the beloved Holden Drutha, alongside two other councilors, had been found in the wreckage of a burned building. The smoke had barely cleared when the shocking news reverberated throughout the country, and the public was demanding a response. They demanded retribution.


    Because another body was present: that of a Trayden ambassador, barely slain by Holden before his death.


    ¡°And what can we do?¡± Councilman Stint bellowed, the thin man¡¯s normal etiquette and well-dress entirely gone. He looked like he¡¯d been ripped straight from his bed, and his eyes were bloodshot. ¡°We need to avoid a war! Everything will be¨C¡±


    ¡°Avoid a war?!¡± another councilor bellowed, slamming their meaty fist into the table. ¡°This is an act of war! We are already at war, you bumbling idiot! Can¡¯t you see that your petty trade agreements with Trayden mean nothing now?!¡±


    ¡°You dare!¡± Stint bit back, looking about ready to throw himself across the table at the other man. ¡°Don¡¯t act like you haven¡¯t wanted this for years, Galen. You and your industry would love a war. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve always been pushing for it without any sort of cause!¡±


    I watched impassively from my seat at the table, my eyes cold as I watched councilor after councilor hurl insults and exude a fear I could almost smell.


    There were two significant factions within the Etharian Council after the events of my kingship. Those who wanted war as retribution for the Traydens¡¯ actions in the King¡¯s Crown Tournament, and those who wanted to maintain minimal retaliation.


    Before today, the latter had far outnumbered the former. At the head of the former faction had been Holden Drutha, who always cautioned of the horrors of battle. Of the lives that would be lost, and the devastation that would follow. After all, the world¡¯s population was already abysmally small after the end of the Golden Age of Technology. Any war that erupted between Trayden and Etharia would inevitably draw in all the regional powers around the Mississippi, potentially creating a continent-wide conflict if we were not careful.


    Marlorn stood nervously at my right side. He¡¯d tried to manipulate me at first, but he was the first to recognize what I had truly become in the wake of my meeting with Vera. A blade. A weapon. A tool to be pointed at our enemies.


    I could feel his uncertain glances at my back. His questioning stare.


    I hadn¡¯t told the old Councilman of my plan. He wouldn¡¯t have approved of it: after all, he was one of Holden¡¯s oldest friends, even if they disagreed.


    But he was an intelligent weasel. He had his doubts.


    Councilman Breeze said something I couldn¡¯t quite make out, directing it toward Stint. Stint¡¯s face became redder than a tomato, before he threw himself at the paunchy Breeze with a rabid yowl, clawing and punching.


    That was all it took. I watched with a detached air as the highest powers in the land¨Cthe greatest nobles I had ever heard of and had revered as a child¨Cdevolved into squabbling children themselves. The most sacred council became little better than a barroom brawl as Marlorn called desperately for guards to separate the ¡°good councilmen.¡±


    I let it continue for a time, until enough blood splattered the table from thrown fists that I could see my own dull reflection in the crimson.


    ¡°Enough,¡± I said simply, my killing intent radiating outward. It washed over the air like a cloying force as it stole the breath from these councilor¡¯s lungs. The fighting stopped immediately as everyone focused on me with wide, rabid eyes.


    I tapped a finger against the table, inspecting the now deathly-silent room. Most flinched when they met my gaze. ¡°These are the greatest men our country has to offer?¡± I asked the air, tilting my head. ¡°At the death of a single man, you devolve into barbarism and bloodshed?¡±


    I inspected each and every man as shame slowly overcame their features, men wiping blood away from their mouths as they adjusted their jackets and struggled to meet my eyes. My killing intent still hung in the air like intense summer heat, and I knew they had to work for each breath.


    Normally, it was expressly forbidden to use killing intent within the confines of a Council meeting. But today was not a normal day.


    ¡°I told you once before,¡± I said, tapping another finger on the table. The sound of it echoed like a drum. ¡°That Trayden needed to be punished. That we needed to take action for their wrongs.¡± I shifted in my seat, feeling it to be more like a throne with every passing second. ¡°I was dismissed.¡±


    A few councilors opened their mouths to rebut me, but I cut them off. ¡°I understand why. They hadn¡¯t taken anyone from you; not like they did me. None of you really understood what was at stake. What Trayden would do to us.¡±


    I watched with measured attention as more and more of the councilors began to listen intently, their rage given a different focus. They¡¯d unleashed their grief on their fellow nobles, but I reminded them of the true enemy. The one who had really stolen from us.


    ¡°But no longer can this council simply sit back and take every cut the Traydens give us,¡± I said, forcing my voice to have more passion. More energy. It was more difficult than any other part of this meeting. ¡°They¡¯ve crossed a line now. Taken someone from us that they should never have.¡±


    A chorus of grunts and angry agreement churned throughout the Council chamber as my words caught fire. Like a spark tossed into gasoline, I saw that ember grow into a burning wildfire. These people had lost someone close to them. A friend. A grandfather. An uncle.


    I once felt that fire, did I not? I wondered as men began to churn and shout. Shout for war. For blood. For vengeance. Where did it go?


    I lounged back in my seat as I watched the Council finally come to a unanimous decision, their hearts ablaze.


    It would be war, and I would lead them in the charge.

 Chapter 237: Warp

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    I opened my eyes slowly. The passing clouds were less than a blur, but as the white wisps streaked past, I couldn¡¯t help but see darkness pulled from my past. The gray murk of a roiling storm overlaid my vision whenever I closed my eyes.


    I was on my back in an endless expanse of sky, the great black bulk of my bond a comforting warmth beneath me. Sylvie¡¯s scales glinted darkly as her long tail trailed behind us.


    I didn¡¯t know when I¡¯d fallen asleep, but I wished I hadn¡¯t. I lay limply, one of my arms hanging weakly off the side of Sylvie¡¯s neck. My azure pupils watched the moving clouds as Sylvie beat her powerful wings.


    ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± Sylvie pressed over our telepathic link, my soul-bound dragon doing her best to provide some measure of support as we traversed the skies over Sapin.


    I was silent for a moment, feeling the wind as it brushed past my cheek. The sun as it provided warmth.


    No, I finally thought back. No. Not right now.


    This last memory was particularly bad. Not in the way many of my memories of Nico and Cecilia were, but because that was where the changes that had already accumulated in my life reached a point of no return. Where the world itself began to bleed because of my pain.


    It didn¡¯t take long for the figurehead position of King I¡¯d won to become a monarchy in truth. After the war began, it wasn¡¯t difficult to force the oligarchy of the Council to become a dictatorship with me at the head. The title of King was no longer an empty, ceremonial thing meant to be thrown at enemies like upjumped gladiators.


    No, I became something more. Something worse.


    Because Holden Drutha was right. Millions died because of my warmongering¨Cboth directly and indirectly. I allowed nothing to stand in my way as I cut a bloody swath through Trayden and any others who stood in my path, all to wreak my vengeance. And as the other regional powers tried to band together to stomp out the burning flame of Etharia, they simply became more broken matchsticks.


    ¡°What makes you think you deserve this happiness?¡± that phantom image of Grey asked me again, half-remembered from a lucid dream so long ago. ¡°After what you¡¯ve done?¡±


    Indeed, that was the question, wasn¡¯t it? I had my second chance. My opportunity to truly have a life worth living.


    But could I honestly say that I deserved this chance? How many innocents paid the price of my pain? How many of them were denied a second life?


    ¡°Arthur,¡± Sylvie said aloud, audible even over the wind as she interrupted the downward spiral of my thoughts, ¡°you didn¡¯t tell me how your conversation with Reynolds and Alice went after I left with Ellie. What did they say? I know it was over long-distance communication scrolls, but still.¡±


    I exhaled, sensing my bond¡¯s intentions with this question. To distract me from the gnawing pit of Grey.


    I took the lifeline gratefully.


    ¡°They¡¯re doing well,¡± I said, shifting so I was in a normal position as I straddled my dragon¡¯s thick neck. I narrowed my eyes against the wind as I stared into the distance. ¡°Dad was happy as ever, and excited to be of use. The troops in Blackbend are in desperate need of good fighters like him, and Mom is constantly healing people.¡± I shifted uncomfortably, remembering the last time I¡¯d seen my parents and the fight we¡¯d had.


    I hadn¡¯t wanted them to participate in this war. I knew what war did to people, the toll it wrought on all involved. And that sense had increased even more as Agrona¡¯s threat replayed in my mind.


    But thoughts of my family made me reminisce on other things. Sylvie had been the most surprised of us all to suddenly have the body of a teenage girl, and I¡¯d bet she was more surprised than most teenage girls were, too. Ellie had leapt at the opportunity to help my bond adjust to her new bipedal form.


    And afterward, we¡¯d worked together to flesh out her new abilities.


    She was powerful. Great beyond measure. With all the despair that clouded much of my lives, the development of my bond¡¯s new strength gave me a feeling of hope despite the threats that faced us. With the emergence of her latent basilisk heritage as it mixed with the draconian, there were very few things she could not triumph over.


    My hands clenched around one of Sylvie¡¯s dark spines. While her abilities had progressed, mine¡­


    ¡°Just¡­ feel the wind, Arthur,¡± Sylvie asked pleadingly over our mental tether. ¡°Please. You¡¯ve been locked up in that flying castle far too long. Let yourself feel some happy thoughts for a time. You deserve it.¡±


    A mirthful smile stretched over my face as Sylvie twisted in the air, banking slightly to the side. We¡¯d been tasked with patrolling the northern countryside of Sapin for signs of the Alacryans, but Sylvie was more happy to get me out of the claustrophobic castle.


    Thank you, Sylv, I thought back. I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m such a downer nowadays. It¡¯s just hard sometimes, with the war. Hard not to think of all I have. And all I stand to lose.


    ¡°I know,¡± Sylvie replied with understanding. ¡°But you can¡¯t lose yourself to it. We¡¯re all here for you when you need it, you know that?¡±


    My eyes wandered the sky as I allowed myself to relax slightly. Sylvie was right. I had people I wanted to protect in this life, but I also needed to protect myself. Grey was right in one thing: a dull sword had no use. I couldn¡¯t let myself become overwhelmed, lest I lose focus of my goals.


    Sapin¡¯s northern countryside was a vast expanse of forests and hills. Far to the east, I could just make out the peaks of the Grand Mountains, and we¡¯d flown by Ekshire City a couple hours ago.


    I allowed my thoughts to wander for a while as we flew, just taking in the air. It was something I desperately needed, just time to myself. Time to relax and¨C


    My eyes squinted as they caught something in the distance. A thin, gray line rose into the sky many miles away, but it was a stark contrast against the expansive blue of the atmosphere.


    ¡°Sylvie,¡± I said, directing her attention over my mental link, ¡°do you see that?¡±


    My bond¡¯s sinuous neck twisted as she noticed what I did. As she inspected that gray line with increasing worry, I funneled mana toward my eyes.


    The energy moved with exceptional speed, far faster than I ever thought possible. My body¨Cenhanced and strengthened by the acclorite that had bonded my very cells¨Cfacilitated the mana like the greatest conductor.


    And I could see. As my eyesight was sharpened a hundredfold by this simple application of mana, I felt my hands clench around Sylvie¡¯s neck as my suspicions were confirmed.


    ¡°That¡¯s smoke over there, Sylv!¡± I yelled, tensing as my bright white Lance uniform whipped in the wind. ¡°We need to move!¡±


    My bond¡¯s thoughts immediately shifted to those of concentration and understanding as I sent what I saw over our link. She beat her powerful black wings, denying gravity, before we rocketed forward.


    With a twist of effort, I called on the wind mana all around us. I stripped the air resistance from my bond with a touch of formless casting, and we accelerated even more as we surged toward the pillar of smoke.


    As we approached at record pace, I could smell it. The acrid stench of burning wood and widespread fire was unnaturally stark in my nose. But more than that, I could smell the coppery tinge of freshly spilled blood as it wafted through the skies.


    As we got closer, it was clear what we were seeing. A large town was on fire, many of their houses going up like tinderboxes as they belched black smoke into the sky. Far below, nondescript dots I knew were people ran about like ants.


    Because they were being hunted. My eyes widened in surprise and horror as I recognized the mana signatures of dozens of mana beasts as they prowled through the streets, tearing and ripping at every dot they could. It was a scene of chaos and destruction I¡¯d rarely witnessed.


    Adrenaline flowed through my veins as I recognized the crisis before me. ¡°Sylvie, surge down! We¡¯re going to kill every mana beast here!¡± I yelled.


    Without a beat of hesitation, my bond followed my instructions. Her wings¨Ceach several stories long¨Ctucked toward her sides as she made herself more streamlined. She dove, dark fire roiling around her massive fangs as her amber eyes squinted in concentration.


    The wind whipped past as we flew downward at absurd speed. The closer we got to the ransacked town, the more I could make out of what was happening. My blood boiled as mana flowed across my limbs, my heart pumping as I watched a large creature bounding toward a fleeing family.


    Five hundred feet. Four hundred feet.


    All around the ambient mana twisted and churned with sorrow and rage. Motes of fire mana burned themselves into my retinas as they attacked these innocent people.


    Three hundred feet.


    That mana beast¡ªone I thought I recognized, with its dark fur and shadow-coated claws¡ªstrode toward the fleeing woman and her children without fear as they wept and cried. The stench of smoke and blood tore at my nostrils.


    Sylvie snarled in anger, the deep rumble reverberating through her bulk like an earthquake. A shadow was cast over the town as we approached like a dark comet. I held out my hand to the side, calling on Dawn¡¯s Ballad. In a burst of purple particles, it appeared in my hand.


    Two hundred feet.


    I maneuvered myself to Sylvie¡¯s side, internally creating a plan of action with her even as my laser-focused intent locked on what I recognized was a shadow panther as it hunted an innocent family. My legs tensed as mana built along my limbs, my body a bowstring as I calculated the exact trajectory and burst of power needed for my planned maneuver.


    One hundred feet.


    People were staring up at us now in fear and horror even as they were torn at by mana beasts and their homes were burnt to a crisp. We blotted out the sun as we approached like an angry tide.


    I engaged Burst Step, mana firing across my calves and thighs in precise bursts just in time. Simultaneously, I commanded the wind mana around me to warp, removing any and all air resistance in my path. The green particles swerved and parted around me as I demanded their subservience.


    The world blurred, and my blade sung.


    I phased into existence just past the family, Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashing as I carved a furrow into the dirt with my simple shoes.


    Behind me, the shadow panther that had been about to leap toward the cornered family came apart in a spray of blood as I cleanly severed its head. I spared their shocked and terrified expressions little attention as the mana beast died, already looking for my next target.


    A twist of earth magic halted my forward momentum, and I immediately focused on another beast as it leapt out of a window. It looked like a mix between a rat and a porcupine as its dark fur rejected the sunlight, smoke trailing in its wake.


    I barely spared it a glance as I summoned shards of ice the size of my arm around me. I allowed them to fly with a surge of accelerating wind magic as the beast leapt for me with unnatural silence.


    The ice punched through the creature with ease, causing it to erupt in a spray of blood as it fell in meaty chunks to the ground. The large icicles I¡¯d conjured impacted the burning building in front of me, sticking into the weakened wood.


    I turned around, flicking Dawn¡¯s Ballad free of blood. I scanned the town, noting the many mana signatures of mana beasts and bloodlust that permeated the air like a stench.


    Making a split-second decision, I slammed my foot into the ground, calling on my core. Earth erupted around me as the yellow mana bent to my command, a large walled box gradually forming as I twisted the ambient energy.


    I exhaled slightly when I was done, barely feeling the strain. The mana itself leapt at my command, the power of a white-core mage indomitable and undeniable.


    My eyes flicked toward the woman I¡¯d just saved. Her two children clung to her dress, each staring with wide eyes at the dead AA-class mana beast I¡¯d slain. Their mother, however, focused on me with tears in her eyes.


    ¡°Lance Godspell,¡± she whispered gratefully. ¡°We¡¯re saved, we¡¯re¨C¡±


    ¡°You have no time,¡± I interrupted the woman sharply, but not unkindly. ¡°I need you to hide inside that box, alright? I¡¯m going to send people here in waves. You¡¯ll be safe.¡±


    I didn¡¯t give the woman a chance to reply before I surged past her, already honing in on the nearest mana beast as it tried to kill another man.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Sylv, I thought to my dragon above as she breathed dark fire down on the mana beasts around the outskirts, shadow-tinged particles of mana flowing all through her spell, I need you to guard these people. I¡¯ll handle all the mana beasts in the town. Make sure they aren¡¯t assaulted as they hide. Heal any that you can, and try and organize them.


    The massive dragon wheeled in the sky as she swerved back toward my location. ¡°Understood, Arthur,¡± she responded mentally. ¡°Be careful. There¡¯s something horribly wrong with these mana beasts.¡±


    I know, I responded with gritted teeth as I easily bisected a charging skitter, noting how it ignored the difference in power between us. They don¡¯t care for their lives, and they seem unnaturally focused on killing anyone they can. Like they¡¯re drones.


    My eyes roamed over the corpse of the skitter at my feet. Normally, the draft animals bore greenish coloring, but for some reason, these were of a more smokey tinge.


    The realization came to me far too late. Corrupted beasts. In the middle of Sapin.


    A cry of fear ripped my attention from the dead skitter, my attention focusing on the cries of terror and blood a few streets away. I snarled, feeling far too slow, before I shot into the sky.


    I took in the state of the town in a single instant, noting as best I could where the people were fleeing. Despite being faster than ever before, I felt slow as I noticed a dozen different attacks happening at once. There were precious few mages actually fighting, and I wondered how many had already been slain.


    Too weak, I chastised myself, my bloodlust swelling as my eyes honed in on a pack of corrupted thunder wolves. These, at least, displayed a predator¡¯s intelligence as they herded a large group of villagers toward a dead-end of burning buildings.


    It only took me an instant to decide. Save this large group, or save the dozen or so others that were being attacked as we spoke.


    I shot downward, Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashing purple as it hummed in my hand. I could swear the sword itself led me forward as I appeared between the thunder wolves and the helpless non-mages.


    Where before most of the mana beasts threw themselves at me with reckless abandon, uncaring for their lives or even thinking of their wellbeing, the electrically charged wolf pack actually halted as I pinned them with my stare.


    Behind me, the people cried out in relief as a savior blocked the approach of their doom. Those stares weighed heavily on my shoulders as I flourished Dawn¡¯s Ballad, my long auburn hair settling. ¡°Come on, beasts,¡± I taunted. ¡°Pick on someone who can actually fight back.¡±


    The wolves, covered in dark lightning that electrified their metallic fur, fanned out in an attempt to surround me. Maybe I would have allowed that normally, but I had people to protect. A town to save.


    I stomped my foot, watching as the yellow particles of rolling earth mana obeyed my command. A crevice opened beneath one of the thunder wolves as it tried to prowl around me. It actually managed to escape in time, jumping backward, but that didn¡¯t save it from the spear of ice that pinned it to the ground.


    The battle began, but it was barely a fight. With my body enhanced by the acclorite in my blood and the hum of Dawn¡¯s Ballad as it demanded the death of the foes that would dare threaten the people, what might have been a fun challenge became a ritualistic slaughter.


    I conjured a gale of wind that blew two of the thunderwolves into each other, causing them to go down in a pile of tangled limbs and irritated snarls. Not wasting a single breath, I funneled fire and wind mana along Dawn¡¯s Ballad, before swiping the sword.


    A torrent of wind and flame ripped the beasts apart, but my attention was already shifting. I caught the throat of one of the larger wolves, my eyes narrowing in disgust as it tried to snap at me with electrified jaws. Lightning skittered across the mana shrouding my skin, but it failed to even dent my protections. I held the mana beast aloft with a single hand, several hundred pounds not even worth a mention as my fingers closed around its metallic fur.


    I whirled, throwing the lupine mana beast toward one of its companions as it tried to leap on me in much the same way. The creature whimpered in pain. Before they could collide, I called on my mana, channeling electricity along my veins and through my sword.


    With a clap of thunder, a bolt of yellow lightning shot from the point of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, the beam of surging power piercing both wolves and utterly ignoring their electric and metallic defenses. I stepped to the side as their corpses hit the ground with a wet squelch.


    I could hear the gasps of relief and awe in the group behind me, but I paid it no mind as my eyes flicked toward the final thunder wolf. The largest of them all, no doubt the alpha.


    I took a step forward. It took a step back cautiously, its hackles raised as it snarled.


    I felt the urge to snarl back, but I kept my face an impassive mask as I slowly loped forward, ready to finish this.


    And as I finally neared, it leapt forward, its teeth frothing. I sidestepped, then rammed Dawn¡¯s Ballad through its chest. Dark blood erupted from the other side, but I was surprised as the mana beast twisted, trying to bite at my fingers with steel-glinted jaws.


    Frowning, I released my weapon, allowing it to remain inside the mana beast. I easily avoided the snap of the thing¡¯s jaws, lightning skittering harmlessly across my mana barrier, before my hands wrapped around its muzzle. The lupine beast¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, and I thought I could see a bit of lucidity there for the first time as it realized what was about to happen.


    And then my fists clenched with the force to crush boulders.


    Teeth flew everywhere as the alpha thunder wolf screamed in pain, its muzzle broken into thin paste. A simple flex of fire mana engulfed it in a torrent of orange flames that burned hot enough to melt steel.


    I watched impassively as the creature¡¯s whimpers went out, the world silent for a moment. Then I grasped Dawn¡¯s Ballad by its matte-black hilt, preparing to rip it from the corpse.


    And I sensed it. Something I¡¯d missed in my utter focus on the last thunder wolf. My eyes widened as I engaged Thunderclap Impulse on instinct, the flare of mana and killing intent making panic surge through my veins.


    The world around me slowed further as electricity ran along my nerves, heightening my reflexes and enhancing my perception far beyond what was possible before. I turned in what felt like slow motion as I stared at the back of the group I¡¯d been trying to protect.


    Something was emerging from one of the burning buildings, moving at a crawl even with Thunderclap Impulse engaged. But that meant it was absurdly fast.


    My eyes traced over the quick-moving mana beast as it closed in on those I was trying to protect, long claws outstretched as a feline face snarled with contempt and fury. A dozen plans ran through my head as I tried to find a way to kill it before it could tear everyone apart.


    I couldn¡¯t use Burst Step, lest I risk tearing everyone between me and the beast apart as well. And any mana I used could turn those people to less than a crisp.


    My enhanced eyes locked on a single young girl, barely a teenager. Her nut-brown eyes were wide in awe and adoration, her mouth open with relief as she watched me. She trusted me. Her body was caked in mud and blood, but she still stood.


    She looked so, so much like Ellie, even as the feline mana beast¡¯s claws reached for the back of her neck with a horrid glint.


    No, I thought, my perceptions burning. No. You will not have her.


    The ambient aether around me¨Cparticles of formless purple that cared not for the pain of lessers¨Cstuttered as my hands cinched tight around Dawn¡¯s Ballad. I felt a strange warmth across my blood as my resolve ironed into a demand.


    I commanded the World itself. And the World bowed.


    I stepped forward, and I was somewhere else. With an exhale, I swung Dawn¡¯s Ballad¨Cwhich glowed purple in my hands¨Cacross the mana beast¡¯s arms.


    Time resumed once more as blood sprayed from the severed stumps of the wind-quick mana beast¡¯s arms, which I now recognized was a razor grimalkin. Its clawed hands fell to the ground with thunks as the people behind me surged away in renewed surprise and fear.


    The S-class mana beast, known for its absurd speed that would appear as a blur to most mages, yowled in pain and fury. I didn¡¯t let it make another sound.


    I reared up a foot as it tried to move, but it was slow. I called my mana to me, imbuing my foot with a shell of earth, before I kicked the mana beast in its chest, cratering its ribcage with the force behind it. The oversized cat shot backward with a crackling boom, splintering the already weakened wood of the burning building as it flew through the smoke.


    I turned back to the group I¡¯d just barely saved from the thresher, my eyes softening as they focused on the young girl once more. ¡°There¡¯s a shelter for you at the center of the town,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°Go.¡±


    A few people opened their mouths to speak, but I ignored them. I hefted Dawn¡¯s Ballad, feeling that strange warmth once more. So similar to my bond with Sylvie. I could almost feel her thoughts as well as I watched the ambient aether around me. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Take me, I enforced, my palms slick with sweat, to my foe.


    The space before me bent, and I stepped forward once more. My perspective shifted as the world flashed by, my body aching slightly from the use of this aether art that I didn¡¯t yet understand.


    The razor grimalkin struggled to get itself back to its feet, electricity arcing along its nerves and synapses from where I¡¯d cratered its chest. The stumps of its arms bled corrupted blood as it yowled in pain. Ignoring the fatigue I felt from my strange new power, I marched forward with gritted teeth.


    I didn¡¯t even spare the S-class beast a second glance. Dawn¡¯s Ballad relieved it of its head, parting flesh and mana-enhanced bone with ease. I watched the corpse as it toppled backward.


    Thank you, I thought to the sword in my hand, though I didn¡¯t know why.


    I could swear it hummed in response.


    For the next half hour, I worked my way methodically through the large town, exterminating beast after beast. Most were far weaker than the S-class razor grimalkin I¡¯d slain¨Cin fact, the majority were simple D- and E-class. A threat to normal people, certainly, but barely a footnote to a Lance.


    Through it all, my head was awhirl with thoughts and worries. Why was this town attacked? What happened here? And how did these mana beasts get here?


    I clenched my hands as I slowly marched back toward the center of the town, where I knew Sylvie waited for me.


    The first thing I noticed was the utter swath of destruction around the central bunker I¡¯d created to protect the citizens of the town. Internally, I reaffirmed my decision to ask Sylvie to protect these people.


    The powers she had awakened after breaking through the seal her mother had placed on her were dark and inordinately powerful, but they were indiscriminate. My eyes lingered on the dark-stained ground where an entire house used to be.


    She didn¡¯t yet have the control she desired, but my bond and I both had places we needed to improve.


    Sylvie herself was in her human form, appearing like a girl in her late teens as she moved among the citizens. I watched as aether traveled across her fingertips and body as she worked to heal everyone that was injured the best she could, her dark dress flaring in the wind. Twin horns jutted down from the sides of her head.


    My bond turned as I approached, her choppy, wheat-blonde hair waving as she stared at me with sorrowful intensity. Though many of the townsfolk cheered at my name¨Ccalling for Lance Godspell and praising the Council¨Ctoo many simply wept or stared at the ash of their homes with broken stares.


    I plastered a reassuring smile on my face as I greeted a few of the survivors, doing what I could to ease their pains and ensure that they were seen to.


    I extracted myself from a grateful woman who hugged me with tears in her eyes, giving her a reassuring nod and a helpful pat. These people had lost so, so much, and we didn¡¯t even know why.


    I locked eyes with Sylvie, then started to lift into the sky. She followed after, her gaze focused as we brushed close, our minds conveying silent support and surety. I stared down at the burning town from far above, feeling a clench in my gut as smoke wafted into the sky. Beside me, Sylvie¡¯s amber gaze was equally mournful as she took in the devastation.


    ¡°I spoke with the townsfolk,¡± Sylvie said solemnly, her eyes lingering on the people we¡¯d saved. There were almost as many corpses strewn through the streets as there were survivors. ¡°The attack hadn¡¯t been going on for long when we arrived. But the horde came from the south, Arthur, all as one unit.¡±


    I nodded slowly. I could see the lingering traces of the monsters¡¯ passing in the ambient mana. I could almost feel the unerringly straight path the corrupted mana beasts took as they arrived at this town.


    We needed to investigate. Needed to ensure that whatever the Alacryans had done to bring these beasts here wasn¡¯t happening elsewhere.


    A new Scythe arrives on Darv¡¯s shores, I thought angrily, recalling the recent intel, and suddenly, civilians are attacked. There¡¯s nothing to be gained by murdering these people. They aren¡¯t mages, aren¡¯t part of our warforce. These villages aren¡¯t even important resource centers for our supply lines.


    Nothing to be gained except fear. Was that what Agrona meant when he said blood would flow? That he would target the common civilians of Dicathen?


    I ground my teeth as Sylvie placed a comforting palm on my shoulder. My eyes smoldered as I stared down at the fires. If Agrona wanted to instill terror, I wouldn¡¯t let him.


    I called on my mana, feeling the warmth as it traveled at absurd speeds toward Dawn¡¯s Ballad. The sword hummed in my grip as it glowed with blue and green light, gradually shining brighter and brighter.


    I felt the strain on my mind as I stared out at the roving particles of water and wind mana lingering in the atmosphere. I could see how they dipped and weaved together through the late afternoon sun in their uncaring way.


    My teeth ground audibly as I leveraged my will. The world began to warp as the mana streamed toward me in visible waves, Dawn¡¯s Ballad shining ever brighter.


    The people far below looked up in surprise and awe as clouds began to form out of nowhere. The victims of this horrible massacre shuddered and cried out in alarm as I swung my soul-bound blade in an arc around me like the conductor of an orchestra. In the world¡¯s greatest play, the winds began to twist and surge under my command as the clouds I¡¯d been summoning darkened.


    And I imposed my command. Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashed as it hummed with purple light, now the scepter of a monarch. Sylvie gasped at my side, both of us able to feel as I was pulled from our connection. Like a man drank from the purest river, I could sense as my call reverberated through steel and into the world, using our bond as an anchoring point.


    The aether in the air twisted slightly, much in the same way as an interested child, before it gravitated toward the growing stormcloud above me. Little flashes of purple darkened the effervescent gray as the purple energy danced leisurely with the blues and greens of wind and water mana.


    I felt the fatigue that had been building over the past half hour redouble as I fought the urge to slump, that simple action draining me of energy. My brilliant white core ached from the act, but the violet-brushed clouds that covered the vast expanse of the burning city rumbled as mana particles smashed together.


    But I would not allow myself to appear even the slightest bit weak. Not now. ¡°Dicathians!¡± I boomed, my voice reverberating with thunder overhead. ¡°Hear my call!¡±


    The people looked up with fear and awe wrought across their gazes as my burning azure eyes glinted against the storm I¡¯d conjured. Sylvie¡¯s hand was warm and comforting on my back as she stared down from my side.


    ¡°The Alacryans have orchestrated this!¡± my voice echoed, my hands clenched around the matte-black handle of Dawn¡¯s Ballad. ¡°They wish to hurt you. To cast you into despair. But I will not let them.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have a connection to Dicathen like all these people did. I did not innately care for this continent as everyone else, simply because I had the outside experience of two separate lives. I fought for my family to live a better life, one of joy and fulfillment. So they might have the life I never had on Earth.


    But Agrona? Agrona had taken that dream from so many of these poor souls. I could not promise them that it would be better, but I could promise that I would do all in my power to ensure that justice would be done. King Grey¡¯s haunting promise echoed through my mind¨Cthe last words he said to Holden Drutha.


    ¡°All crimes will be answered soon.¡±


    Dawn¡¯s Ballad glinted in a light none could see, before I brought it down, a grim executioner¡¯s axe.


    And rain, tinted purple by aether, began to fall. It fell in a cool cascade as it brushed against the burning buildings, dousing the fire in a refreshing spring kiss. Water streamed off my Lance uniform as I watched my conjured raincloud wash away the burning fires.


    It might wash away the stench of blood. It might smother the flames. But the scars these people bore would last for many years to come.

 Chapter 238: The Result of War

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    After I doused the flames still burning, I had to do several things before I could afford to track the source of this beast horde. I wrote a detailed communication scroll to the Council, informing them of what I¡¯d discovered and what steps I¡¯d be taking next.


    Sylvie and I stayed for a short time as we helped the town pull itself into a modicum of order. She hauled bodies from the rubble and healed who she could, while I conjured walls around the town in case more beasts came.


    But there was an urgency in my steps and my mind that finally pulled me away. I couldn¡¯t wait for reinforcements from the Council to finally reach my location and reinforce these people. I hated to leave them alone, but some gut instinct¨Csome fear I couldn¡¯t place¨Ctold me I couldn¡¯t stay here.


    Those mana beasts¨Ccorrupted, and even an S-class¨Chad arrived at this town in a concentrated group before tearing it apart. And if there was anything I knew about Agrona from my talk with the horrid psychopath was that he did nothing in half-measures. There was more to this, and I feared to understand what it was.


    Sylvie blurred through the air as we followed the lingering distortions in the mana south. They formed an eerily straight line from an indeterminate source far beyond, and traces of the mana beasts¡¯ passing were easy to spot if one knew how to look.


    They carved a path straight to that town, I thought, wondering why. They didn¡¯t stop for water, didn¡¯t take any detours that would make it easier. Like drones seeking a target.


    Sylvie was uneasy beneath me as she beat her massive wings. We didn¡¯t talk of the strange ability of Dawn¡¯s Ballad that I¡¯d just discovered, where I gained the ability to influence aether somehow by touching on our bond. I could tell questions about it lurked in the subconscious of her mind, but she was focused on trailing that path our enemies had taken.


    I will have to talk to Elder Rinia about it when we get back to the castle, I thought with gritted teeth. The aether-influencing elven seer was infuriatingly vague and shifty about both her abilities and what she saw with her visions, but she was my only real avenue to learn more about the intricacies of my manifested weapon.


    After all, the asura had abandoned us. No dragon besides my faithful bond would stand by Dicathen, all because of their failed assault on Alacrya.


    I ground my teeth as I focused forward, thoughts of war and whatever Agrona could be planning bouncing around in my skull like an infuriating itch. Eventually, however, my mind drifted toward Spellsong.


    The phoenix-blooded mage was the focus of many of my endless questions, especially as my dreams¡ªnightmares¡ªof my past life as Grey continued to return like painful wounds.


    I wondered who he was often, even though I knew I wouldn¡¯t arrive at the answer I needed. He clearly knew who I was in my previous life, but I couldn¡¯t fathom him. Was he a councilmember I¡¯d once known?


    Or, I thought with dark humor, was he some unfortunate Trayden soldier I killed? That might make sense, considering he knew so much about Cecilia. About the Legacy.


    But that also didn¡¯t fully make sense, either. And even if I somehow figured out how he knew so much of my past life, that didn¡¯t change that he seemed to know far, far too much about my new one, too.


    I remembered a faint voice that seemed to touch my soul. To reverberate with the greatest pull I had ever felt.


    ¡°Because your anchors are here, Arthur.¡±


    Sylvie and Tess.


    My heart clenched painfully as I closed my eyes, letting out a breath as I pressed my forehead into Sylvie¡¯s scales, seeking their centering warmth as I worked through my emotions. Tess knew my secret now. She knew it. Knew why I¡¯d rejected her advances for so, so long.


    When I next saw her, I¡¯d need to¨C


    Sylvie lurched in the air, a spike of horror tainting my uncertain thoughts a crimson red. I struggled for a moment to stay perched at the base of her neck as I was nearly thrown off, adrenaline coursing through my body as I prepared to fight. Sylvie crooned in a mix of disbelief and despair as she physically recoiled from something.


    ¡°By my ancestors,¡± she cursed into the wind, her shock like a bolt of cleansing fire across my system. ¡°How¡­ How could¡­¡±


    I immediately reoriented, ready for combat as Dawn¡¯s Ballad fuzzed into existence by my palm. ¡°Sylv, what is it? What do you¨C¡±


    I looked past my bond¡¯s neck as she flapped her wings, hovering in place in the sky.


    And my jaw went slack, a matching horror rising from the depths of my stomach. I stared for a long, long moment at our destination¨Cbecause I knew this was where we needed to go. I knew, in some deep part of my soul, that this was what I¡¯d been fearing.


    My eyes drank in the sight, my nose twitching from the metallic scent. Finally, I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of smoke and burnt flesh. The familiar scent, but not from this life.


    Grey suffused my emotions as I prepared myself for what needed to be done. All my questions of Spellsong. All my anxiety regarding Tess and what our relationship would be after this. All my fears for this life and my last one.


    I smothered them all as I adopted the mantle that had protected me for so long. And for once, Sylvie did not protest.


    ¡°Set us down, Sylv,¡± I said, my voice like iron.


    My bond complied without a word, circling down before she finally set her massive bulk into the dirt. The ground rumbled for a moment before I finally swung off the neck of my draconic companion.


    My shoes squelched in crimson mud. A familiar sensation, one I¡¯d experienced many times in countless battlefields. When enough blood was spilled by bullet and blade, the very earth itself would drink the scarlet flow. And as soldiers marched onward to add their own life¡¯s blood to the tide, the earth would claw at the feet of her children, trying to hold them back from further slaughter. To prevent them from marching to their dooms.


    But the red mud did not bind my feet as I marched forward solemnly. This child had long been rejected by the stones below, and no longer did Earth wish to hold me back.


    This had once been a city. Not a large one, far from it. Probably only several thousand people at most. With its well-planned roads and sturdy architecture, I knew this nameless city had once been a thriving place. Distantly, some part of me that was still Arthur could imagine children playing in the square. Could imagine merchants hawking their wares and mothers carrying their babes through the streets. As I swept my empty gaze across the shattered walls, I could almost imagine guards playing dice by the gates.


    ¡°You do not have to look,¡± I said, aware that Sylvie¡¯s trembling human form stood behind me, her feet sinking into the bloody soil.


    ¡°I need to,¡± Sylvie said, her voice firm. ¡°I need to see this.¡±


    I exhaled, my eyes forward. ¡°Okay, Sylv.¡±


    I continued my death march forward, tasting the wrongness of the ambient mana. The world itself seemed to be stained red, each particle of ambient mana weeping tears of scarlet blood. Even the aether felt unnaturally still as I waded toward the carnage.


    Lady Myre had told me that the aether had its own sort of Will. A sentience or drive that the dragons could not fully comprehend. That was why the formless energy that crafted the bowl we lived in could not be directly manipulated like mana. Because, just like one could not directly control another person, you couldn¡¯t grasp aether with your intent.


    If aether has sentience, a mind behind its unfathomable workings, I wondered, staring upward at the horrible symbol, a rotting totem to Agrona¡¯s malice, can it feel grief, too? Can it sense the tragedy?


    I thought it could. I could almost hear the world weeping.


    At the very heart of this city, a tower of corpses blocked out the sun above, stretching fifty feet into the sky. Blood streamed from broken bodies in waves, like the stories of ritualistic sacrifice from my old world. Empty eyes watched as torn entrails and broken dreams cascaded down a monument of meaningless death.


    Sylvie fell to her knees behind me, vomiting into the red-stained road. The bile leaving her throat was subsumed by the river of blood that soaked the streets.


    There were so, so many. Hundreds of bodies, maybe thousands, created a dread statement from the lord of Alacrya. Because I understood what he meant, now. Agrona had told me not long ago, hadn¡¯t he? And I didn¡¯t know then. Not really.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve seen a great deal of bloodshed, King Grey. More than most lessers. Maybe even more than most asura. So I want you to understand what I mean when I say that the blood shall flow soon¡­¡± Agrona¡¯s phantom smile burned itself across my mind as my bond wept tears of horror and sorrow into the bloody earth. ¡°It¡¯s going to be the bloodiest war in history¡¯s tapestry. Numbers cannot fathom the casualties that your continent will face.¡±


    In my mind¡¯s eye, I remembered how Agrona¡¯s scarlet eyes had sparkled with amusement as he puppeteered Sylvie. As he commanded her body to preach a horrid truth she would never subscribe to.


    ¡°There will be no surrender. No sparing of prisoners. No recourse for civilians. Men, women, children¡­ The serpent will have its fill of the crimson tide.¡±


    As I stared up at the pile of nameless bodies¨Cmany in chunks and simply torn apart¨CI found myself strangely fascinated. What sort of madness possessed the Sovereign of Alacrya? What sort of twisted psyche gripped his mind, to push for such a massacre?


    Because that¡¯s what this had been. My gaze focused on the head of a young girl¨Cthere was only a head to stare at¨Cand I wondered what she felt when she died.


    But I knew. She died terrified.


    I knelt, massaging Sylvie¡¯s back as she sobbed with sympathetic grief. I wanted to comfort her over our bond, but I could not. Right now, I was Grey. Feeling anything¡­ Feeling anything was difficult. So all I could do was be by her side.


    ¡°So many people,¡± my draconic bond said, her choppy wheat-blonde hair stark against the endless red. ¡°Why?! Why did it happen? Why did he do it?¡± she demanded, her aura warping the air, a roar pulling itself from her throat.


    I knew why this burned her so deeply. Agrona had delivered the very promise of this bloodshed through her mouth. Her lips had uttered the words; her tongue had formed the syllables. It was not her mind that had delivered the ultimatum, but my bond still felt disgusted. She felt as if this was her fault.


    I laid a hand on my bond¡¯s back as she vented her emotions, staring with dead eyes into the mound. And internally, I reasserted my vow. I would not allow Agrona to enact his plans.


    ¡ª


    Less than an hour later, Sylvie rested outside the walls. She was not physically tired, but she was emotionally wrung out by her entire endeavor. Her massive chest rose and fell in fitful shudders, and I could feel the uneasy nature of her dreams.


    Since I had first found the mound of death, I had not allowed myself to slow down. Even as Sylvie slept, I scoured the ravaged city, searching for signs of whence the horde had come.


    Because while the corpses had been deliberately piled together¨Calmost mockingly¨Cthe actual slaughter had been done by mana beasts. People had been torn apart by tooth and claw, and the lingering mana told me of the bestial nature of the attack.


    But where had the beasts come from? Where did the wave appear?


    The best I could tell, the mana beasts had appeared from the inside of the city. As if from thin air, an entire horde has suddenly spawned in the streets. But this city had no teleportation gate, and the only points of damage beyond the wall were clearly where mana beasts had exited.


    Some sort of portal technology, I cataloged with an analytical mind as I inspected a stone building that appeared to have been trampled by something massive. The Alacryans are able to call these beasts around wherever they please somehow, but there must be limits.


    This and more I noted with cold logic as I made my rounds through the city, making sure there were no mana beasts left.


    I needn¡¯t have worried. I was the only living thing within the stained red walls. I knew from experience that flies and crows were quick to feast on the flesh of the dead, but none dared to touch the testament to the basilisk¡¯s cruelty. The wind was still as I marched toward a break in the stone walls.


    I stared out at one breach in the city walls, indicating another offshoot of the horde that had torn this place apart. The town I¡¯d saved had been only one of many¨Cand now there were mana beasts surging toward the surrounding villages on a tide of death and decay.


    I exhaled slowly through my nose, calculating in my head how long ago this massacre had happened. Not even a couple hours ago, if my estimates were correct from the warmth of the blood around me.


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    I marched out of the breach in the wall, tracing the path of mana beast hooves, claws, and feet as they churned the earth, trailing blood behind them. More towns were in danger, and it was my duty as Lance to put the threat down.


    Sylvie, I thought with iron, the touch of my mind jolting my bond from her short rest, we need to move. There are places that need our help right now.


    My bond shifted as she awoke from her restless nightmare, her large, topaz eyes staring at me silently.


    She didn¡¯t speak as she lowered her serpentine head to the ground for me. I said nothing more as I vaulted onto the base of her neck, my hands tightly grasping one of her spines.


    We had monsters to slay.


    ¡ª


    The stars were bright in the night sky as I rested my back against the corpse of my foe. I observed them from below with an impassive gaze, tracing the outlines of the constellations. My arms¨Cmade entirely of aether-tinged earth mana¨Cslowly phased back to a fully-flesh form, the mana I¡¯d been imbuing into and through the acclorite in my blood sifting back to my core.


    That was something new I¡¯d discovered as I¡¯d tested myself against scores of mana beasts for hours upon hours on end. Something unique to my new body and the acclorite that suffused my very cells.


    If I wished it, I could embody the elements themselves. Fire, water, wind, earth¡­ I was the elements, and the elements were me. But as my flesh became solid once more¨Cstiff from being the earth itself¨CI wondered what other powers this strange new physique would afford me.


    Beside me, Sylvie sat in her human form. Both of us were deeply exhausted from the day, and not just physically. My dragon laid the back of her head against the defeated iron hyrax behind us.


    We¡¯d managed to reach two of the offshoot hordes before they reached populated towns. Those didn¡¯t have S-class mana beasts in them, and my bond and I rained death and destruction on the corrupted beasts with the pent-up fury of asura. They broke like matchsticks before our might, a hundred beasts easily becoming less than chattel.


    Every time we slew an offshoot horde, Sylvie and I returned to the decimated city¨Cthat place of horrible massacre, where the very mana and aether itself seemed to tremble with sorrow¨Cand then we followed another trail left by rampaging monsters.


    We¡¯d been too slow to stop what had occurred at the end of the last trail. A small farming village had been utterly decimated by the stampede of an iron hyrax, leaving mashed bodies and broken houses.


    I knew I couldn¡¯t bring back the dead, but I could avenge them.


    I stared up impassively as I sensed a mana signature approaching in the skies. My eyes narrowed as a nimbus of gold, electric mana swirled around a nondescript figure as they honed in on our location.


    Lance Bairon Wykes slammed into the earth like a thunderbolt, dirt spraying around him as his eyes focused on me. His teeth were visibly clenched as lightning crackled across his arms. The scent of ozone fizzed in the atmosphere.


    ¡°Lance Arthur Leywin,¡± he hissed, marching forward. ¡°What do you think you have been doing, darting around Sapin without authorization?¡± he snapped, clearly agitated. ¡°The Council ordered your return hours ago, but you have ignored direct orders. Is this insubordination¨C¡±


    ¡°You are late,¡± my ice-cold voice scythed across Bairon¡¯s tirade like a chill wind.


    Bairon actually blinked in surprise, his scowl deepening as he stared down at me. I waited for the arrogant Lance to open his mouth to reply, before intentionally cutting him off.


    ¡°Did you read my report?¡± I pressed, tilting my head and allowing my blood-stained auburn hair to brush against my shoulders. ¡°Did you see the massacre?¡±


    Bairon¡¯s mouth closed, opened, then closed again before he scoffed, turning around. I almost thought he might be ashamed.


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet, feeling as my body twitched slightly from how much I¡¯d used it today. I took my bond¡¯s hand, pulling her to her feet in a helpful maneuver as I stared back at the corrupted iron hyrax behind me. ¡°I have spent the last six hours killing as many mana beasts as I could, ensuring the citizens of Dicathen weren¡¯t torn to shreds. Because it is my duty as Lance.¡±


    I tilted my head, my eyes sharpening. ¡°Tell me, Bairon,¡± I said, my voice cool as a spring lake, ¡°why I should have forfeited my duty to answer the Council¡¯s calls.¡±


    Bairon finally turned, staring at me contemptuously as he clenched his fists. ¡°Because this isn¡¯t the only place that has been under attack by beasts,¡± he bit out. ¡°At several points across Sapin, reports have come in of beast hordes that seek the blood of our people.¡±


    I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in, before letting it out in a slow exhale.


    It made sense. Why would this be the only place? Why would Agrona take half-measures?


    Agrona wanted to cause rivers of blood to flow. And as my gut churned, I wondered what effect one Lance¨Ceven as powerful as I was¨Ccould have on the outcome of this war. When the goalposts shifted so drastically, what place was there for conventional warfare?


    ¡ª


    The Council meeting was a painful, unbearable slog. My patience was thin as Grey revolved around the edges of my perception, and though Sylvie hung close to me in a measure of comfort, she couldn¡¯t block out Blaine¡¯s angry, pained yells.


    I¡¯d given a succinct report of how I¡¯d discovered the massacres and what I¡¯d done to stop them; of all I¡¯d witnessed and fought across the past day. And as the questions from all built, I felt my tension rise once again.


    What was the point of it all? To instill fear? To damage supply lines? To break morale? Agrona¡¯s slaughter of civilians, from the point of view of the councilmembers, made no sense. He could have loosed those beasts on any other place. Supply lines, military outposts or simple homes of high ranking officers. Even if these were terror attacks, they weren¡¯t efficient. Just empty slaughter.


    Perhaps that was what had pushed the former monarch of Sapin into such a rage.


    ¡°So can none of you can say anything?!¡± the maroon-haired former king snarled, slamming a fist into the table. It cratered from an application of mana, fires sparking around him as his broad shoulders heaved. ¡°All you can tell me is that my people are being slaughtered? That my citizens are being torn apart in the thousands, and you have no clue why or how?¡±


    His eyes smoldered with fury as he demanded answers from us all.


    I was the only Lance present. Bairon, Varay, and Mica had been sent out to scout the entirety of Sapin, each working feverishly to try and quell the rising of beasts to stop the incoming tide¨Cbut that set me alone across from the raging councilman. Alduin and Merial both clenched their jaws in sympathy, and Priscilla hesitated to approach her husband¡¯s wrathful form. Elder Buhnd had a distant cast to his face that told me he was reliving old memories.


    ¡°You are not alone in your anger, Councilman Blaine,¡± Virion said wearily, the lines on his face seeming deeper than ever. ¡°We all lament the loss of life. And our Lances are trying everything they can to figure out how this happened.¡±


    Virion, unfortunately, provided himself as the perfect target for Blaine¡¯s outburst. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have happened in the first place,¡± he snapped, pointing a finger at the old Commander. ¡°Ever since the asura left us, it¡¯s all been downhill and downhill! You can¡¯t even protect our people, Eralith!¡±


    Alduin, predictably, rose to try and counter Blaine. ¡°Calm yourself, Councilman Glayder,¡± he said sharply. ¡°We all lament these actions, but yelling and pointing fingers will get us nowhere. Present yourself as a representative of Dicathen, not as a raging brute.¡±


    My eyes sharpened imperceptibly as I sensed Alduin¡¯s mistake. Blaine¡¯s trembling shoulders stilled as he slowly turned to face Alduin. ¡°Would you be so quick to say this, King Eralith,¡± he hissed, flames sputtering around his hands, ¡°if it were your people being slaughtered? If you saw all the ends of those you fought a lifetime to protect? Even now, your elven Lance shelters your daughter instead of tending to the people massacred by our enemies.¡±


    Blaine struck a nerve. I watched with resignation as Alduin puffed himself up, ready to retort with something just as caustic. Virion, too, prepared himself to try and regain control of the deteriorating Council.


    In the depths of my mind, I saw a grim mirror of the Etharian Council. Of how each and every one of the greatest people of the land threw themselves at each other like hyenas after the death of Holden Drutha.


    All it takes is a little wind to knock down the tallest of towers, I thought darkly, embracing Grey a bit further. At my side, Sylvie tensed, her amber eyes flicking to me with worry as she sensed what I prepared to do.


    ¡°Blaine Glayder,¡± my even voice echoed through the Council chamber, cutting through the rising tension, ¡°look at me.¡±


    Blaine seemed to belatedly realize I¡¯d called him, his anger dipping sideways as he turned to me. I saw his smoldering contempt beneath the surface¨Cand no little shame, I thought. ¡°And so the Lance finally speaks,¡± he said, his voice sounding more weary. ¡°Come on, boy. What do you have to say that will make this meeting worse? You have a talent for delivering bad news.¡±


    I let Blaine¡¯s scalding words wash over me, even as Sylvie¡¯s eyes narrowed in annoyance on my behalf.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t know his place,¡± Sylvie thought to me. ¡°He goads you so openly. Goads the chosen of my grandfather.¡±


    He is a man who has seen his people slaughtered and butchered mindlessly, I thought back calmly. Petty, yes. But human.


    Virion looked at me oddly as I tilted my head, engaging in a quiet staredown with the former human king. The other councilmembers misted away into the background as I inspected Blaine with the critical eyes of Grey.


    ¡°What makes a King, Blaine Glayder?¡± I finally asked. ¡°What makes you a King?¡±


    Blaine¡¯s eyes narrowed, and I could almost taste his growing uncertainty from the dullness of my tone. ¡°What makes you fit to question royalty, Lance?¡± he countered swiftly. ¡°You are no councilmember.¡±


    ¡°That is the wrong answer,¡± I said simply, unfazed by his words. ¡°A King is made by his people, Blaine Glayder. A true King puts them before himself. But it is also a King¡¯s duty to be calm and collected when nobody else can.¡±


    It was an ironic thing that Blaine Glayder was a greater king than Grey ever had been. Because unlike my previous life, Blaine cared for his people. He loved the people of Sapin. That was why he grew so angry and tempestuous at their slaughter, why all reason fled him and he grieved for their deaths.


    Blaine scoffed, but it wasn¡¯t as heated. ¡°And I suppose you know what it is like being a King, boy? You, who grew in the countryside and gallivanted along the Beast Glades in your youth? You surely know the burdens on the shoulders of each councilmember.¡±


    The other councilmembers watched the exchange with muted solemnity, each of them¨Cif not aloud¨Cthen internally agreeing with the human monarch. These precious few men, elves, and singular dwarf carried the weight of their continent¡¯s future on their hands. And though I offered my input, helping where I could, Blaine had a point, didn¡¯t he? What would Arthur Leywin, peasant boy and adventurer extraordinaire, have to know about kingship? The closest they knew, I¡¯d spent my childhood in Elenoir amidst the Royal Family¨Cbut that was no royal education.


    Virion looked ready to intervene, a dark scowl making the wrinkles on his face seem like deep ocean trenches. But I couldn¡¯t help it. I burst out with a hearty, mirthful laugh at Blaine¡¯s words. Ironically, it served to loosen the tension I¡¯d carried ever since witnessing the mountains of dead corpses.


    Because Blaine was right¨Cat least partially. Despite my previous life, I¡¯d never cared for the people that fell under my boot. I¡¯d become monarch to further my selfish goals, not to protect the men, women, and children I ruled over. And they suffered for it. Only as I witnessed the tired eyes and stress-grayed hair of the monarch in front of me did I begin to understand this.


    Maybe I didn¡¯t know what Blaine needed to be now. But I knew the alternative.


    ¡°I surely don¡¯t know what it means to be King,¡± I said after a minute, a solemn smile on my face as I stared at the former monarch of Sapin. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve gathered yourself, and that my input is no longer needed in this meeting.¡±


    I pushed away from the table, a strange silence following in my wake as I strode from the council room. I felt the eyes of each of the councilors on my back as Sylvie trailed behind me, her emotions uncertain.


    I let myself walk through the castle, my thoughts carrying my steps. Part of me was tempted to see if I could find Kathyln, Elder Hester, and Elder Camus. I had new abilities to train¨Cnamely, the strange aetheric abilities I¡¯d found myself capable of during the attacks, and the ability for me to meld my body with the elements. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I need to hone myself further, I thought dourly, only partially aware of my surroundings. The manifestation of Dawn¡¯s Ballad and all the imprints of mana within had led to these abilities, and I needed to find a way to maximize them. This was my path to being able to fight a Scythe. To being able to finally protect my family and home. I just needed to be stronger.


    ¡°You need to be careful, Arthur,¡± Sylvie said from behind me, her emotions shadowed over our link. She was still recovering from the bloodshed she¡¯d witnessed. Processing the brutality. ¡°Please. Don¡¯t fall back into that darkness. I know it¡¯s easier. But you can¡¯t. Not with everything you have to protect.¡±


    I didn¡¯t turn around. ¡°You can still feel the pain in your chest,¡± I said after a moment, my voice dull. ¡°I can sense it over our bond, Sylv. And it hurts so, so much. But I can¡¯t afford to let myself feel hurt. To let myself hesitate in my steps. While maybe the councilmembers carry the weight of the continent on their shoulders, I¡­¡±


    I trailed off. I carry the weight of my loved ones¡¯ lives on mine, I thought, but did not say. And those precious few felt so much heavier than the millions across Sapin, Darv, and Elenoir combined.


    ¡°I told you once not to fall back into that pit,¡± a raspy, decrepit voice said from a nearby hall. ¡°But I can see it in your eyes, boy. That pit has already claimed you. It has sunk its claws deep into your chest and heaved you down.¡±


    Sylvie reacted fast, moving to put herself between me and the flashing eyes of Rinia Darcassan. Her choppy, wheat-blonde hair covered one of her draconic eyes as she glared at the elven seer. I could feel her mana¨Cdark and tinged with soulfire¨Cchurning beneath the thin veneer of a teenage girl.


    ¡°Rinia Darcassan,¡± Sylvie snapped, her hair practically bristling as she put herself protectively between me and the scarecrow of an elf, ¡°you must explain yourself. You had to know this would happen. Had to know what would become of¡­ of all those people!¡±


    Rinia simply gave my trembling bond a sad, mournful look. On her shoulders, Avier crooned weakly. ¡±There are things I can see, Lady Indrath, and things I cannot. I am not all-knowing and all-powerful, child. Yet it is dangerous to influence the future in any way. To risk changing the outcome at all.¡±


    Sylv looked ready to lash out again, tears building at the corners of her eyes. Tears of regret and pain. Tears of sympathy. Tears that I couldn¡¯t shed¨Cnot right now.


    Instead, I cut her off, placing a simple hand on her shoulders. She turned back, looking up at me with gemstones of glimmering topaz.


    I kept my focus on the seer.


    ¡°Every time you¡¯ve approached me,¡± I said, ¡°it¡¯s always been with some motive. First, it was pushing me toward Spellsong, so we would fight even when we didn¡¯t need to.¡±


    In the aftermath of my duel with the Asclepius-blooded Retainer, I¡¯d learned from Tess that she had never been in true danger at all. Toren Daen had been healing her, removing the taint of Agrona from her core and taking away an advantage.


    Which meant that Rinia wanted us to fight.


    ¡°You appeared in the aftermath of my confrontation with Agrona Vritra, then used an artifact to break the spell he¡¯d placed on Sylvie¡¯s mind,¡± I listed second, ¡°and you told me only now we had a chance of winning this war.¡±


    I leisurely shoved my hands in my pockets, tilting my head as I observed the elven aether mage. If I really, really, really focused, I thought I could see the dying fires of her lifeforce amidst the four colors of the elements. The embers of lingering aetheric motes that denoted what remained of her lifespan pulsed lowly from her heart.


    They were pitifully small.


    ¡°Every time you¡¯ve approached me, Rinia,¡± I said simply, ¡°you¡¯ve approached me with an alternative motive. You¡¯re trying to push this world along a certain path¨Cthat much I can see. You claim you can¡¯t tell me what that path is, for fear it might diverge.¡± I rolled my shoulders, feeling how loose they were. Loose, like Kordri had taught me to be. Strong, like forged steel. ¡°Say your piece, seer.¡±


    Rinia stared at me, her multicolored eyes bearing a profound weariness¨Cone I knew from long ago. And even deeper, I saw the resignation in them, too. ¡°The pit has claimed you again, Arthur Leywin,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You might feel like you can never crawl out. Once, I told you that you couldn¡¯t let yourself fall into it for that very reason.¡±


    The old elf hunched deeper as she took a moment to catch her breath. Her limbs were thin as matchsticks, her face sunken like melted candle wax. And every word seemed to take a bit more of her withering lifespan.


    I waited for her to regain her strength.


    She took a deep, rattling inhale as she forced herself to straighten like a bent tree forcing itself against gravity to stand tall once more. ¡°But sometimes, Arthur, the only way out is through.¡±

 Chapter 239: What We Can

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Blackbend City was bustling with life as I stepped from the teleportation gate platform, the summer air pulling at my cloak. I put a hand over my head, making sure my signature auburn locks were hidden, alongside my mana signature.


    ¡°This place is different than what I expected,¡± Sylvie said, her little fox form stuffed in my coat. Her ears peeked out a little as her slitted gold eyes peered over the milling crowds. ¡°That man could have been nicer, too.¡±


    Sylv, of course, was referring to the gruff guard who had demanded to see my lower back upon leaving the teleportation gate. I¡¯d complied, but the massive brute of a man could have done without the death glare or the killing intent.


    Things are tense now, Sylv, I responded with a mental sigh, my eyes tracking over the city. Everywhere I looked, people bustled about with their chores as they sought to add to the war effort. Nobody can afford a slip.


    Blackbend City was one of the core, integral parts of Dicathen¡¯s supply chains. Located at the headwaters of one of the Sehz River¡¯s mighty tributaries, it served as the go-between to the Wall¨Cand by extension, the Beast Glades beyond¨Cand the rest of Sapin.


    Furthermore, control of the river that coursed along Sapin¡¯s southern border was sourced in the iron-walled city. Needless to say, it was a critical military and strategic outpost, and it showed in every action of the townsfolk around me.


    Burly men hauled metal plates and scaffolding to the edges of the ringed walls, then were waved on by soldiers. Armed mages and contingents of the Triunion marched through the cobbled streets, reassuring the women as they worked to chisel arrowheads along the main thoroughfare.


    They¡¯re carrying resources for the construction of the underground train to the Wall, I thought, weaving through the crowds.


    My eyes lingered on a group of three adventurers as they hauled the corpse of a mana beast to a designated station for processing. Nothing would go to waste in that body, I knew. The tendons would be used to string bows and tie fletchings. The meat would feed a few families easily, and the fur would make resistant armor. The bones could be whittled and sculpted into arrowheads, or ground up for use in mana-conductive artificing.


    The haunted expressions of the adventurer party and the blood staining their clothes told me that they were far from content with their victory. No, an aura of misery clung to them like a gravity spell that weighed down only their hearts.


    Immediately, I knew why such dread ensorcelled the three. I could read it in how the conjurer nearly stumbled into a tall, lanky augmenter. She¡¯d been expecting someone else to be there to stop her, but they hadn¡¯t. Another close-combat fighter belatedly turned, opening his mouth to scold the conjurer, but his maroon brows fell as he looked at them with defeat, unable to muster the strength. I could see the lines of loss carved into his brows like a meticulous sculpture, the emotion unwilling to escape. The final augmenter just looked away, ashamed.


    They¡¯d lost someone in their party.


    I paused for a moment in the middle of the street, flashbacks of Jona as he mourned over Cedry sparking in my head. I watched as the three remaining mages tried to pretend that the gaping hole in their hearts didn¡¯t exist for a short time.


    ¡°It won¡¯t work, Arthur,¡± Sylv thought to me, her emotions muted. ¡°The reason you¡¯re here¡­ It won¡¯t help. You know that.¡±


    I ignored the dragon stuffed into my tunic, instead inhaling the scent of industry all around. It was different from the bloodied corpses of the massacres I¡¯d been to barely a few hours ago. Oil, freshly cut wood, metal, sweat, and grime from workers¡¯ bodies¡­ It all meshed together in a tangle of wartime society.


    There was tension in the air as every citizen performed their duties, like the haunting lull at the eye of a storm. Every adventurer I passed kept their shoulders tensed, like they were still in the depths of the Beast Glades. The soldiers that marched through the streets slammed the butts of their spears against the ground in a rhythm of war. A subtle haste propelled a group of washerwomen onward like wind nipping at their heels.


    They couldn¡¯t know yet about the terror attacks ripping their country apart, but some part of this city knew that the lightning had already begun to strike.


    They were just waiting for the thunder.


    I kept my hood raised as I wove toward my predetermined destination near the outskirts of the city. Adventurers and lone mercenaries became more and more common as I roamed eastward.


    I hopped up onto a nearby crate as I reached a specific section of the city, craning my neck as I searched with my eyes as much as my mana senses. The eastern gate of Blackbend¡ªoutlined in dark steel and standing as a stalwart barrier against all that would dare try and break into the powerful city¡ªcast a shadow in tune with the walls as they stretched far into either distance.


    I sensed them almost too late.


    The doors were closing behind them, the wrought steel groaning shut like the lid of a chest as six mana signatures slowly left alongside a larger caravan.


    I forwent all my caution as the six mages exited the city. I rose into the air, earning a few surprised shouts from the people around me. A few guards hastily called for me to cease and desist, but as my cowl fell back and my distinctive features were made visible to the air, they fell back into astonished muttering.


    I flew upward, gritting my teeth as I suppressed my nausea and worry. I forced my hands not to clench at my sides as the ambient mana propelled me toward my targets.


    Within my coat, Sylv shuffled nervously, radiating anxiety and discomfort over our bond. ¡°Arthur, it¡¯s not going to go how you think it will,¡± she thought to me as I crested the wall. ¡°This is only going to result in pain.¡±


    This time, my hands did clench as I peered at the rolling hills past Blackbend¡¯s walls.


    And how would you know? I asked bitterly, snapping mentally at my bond as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. You¡¯ve never had to do something like this, Sylv.


    A wave of hurt radiated over my nerves like singed ashes. ¡°I have been doing something like this, Arthur,¡± she thought back angrily. ¡°I¡¯m trying to convince my papa now to not do this. And do you think talking to your father is going to go any better? Your stubbornness is as much his as it is from your previous life.¡±


    I winced as my draconic bond scoffed. ¡°Maybe you need to see for yourself. I thought I could convince you, but I can¡¯t. I see that now. But you don¡¯t see it yet.¡±


    This is different, I thought, trying to convince myself of that. Dad¡ªReynolds¡ªhe needs to pull himself from this war. Even from a logical position, it¡¯s the best thing to do. It¡¯s too risky in every way, especially with the massacres that are appearing now.


    The wind whipped past my auburn hair as I hung in the sky, taking in the sight beyond Blackbend¡¯s walls with a nervous heart.


    Only a little ways north of the deserts of Darv, the land was surprisingly fertile. One of the tributaries of the Sehz River Basin bordered the city on the eastern side, blocking most from an easy pathway to the Grand Mountains. Before the war, the fields on either side of the great thoroughfare of water were splashed with golden wheat and lifegiving crops, but now those had been replaced with military tents.


    I could understand why. Blackbend City was a crucial part of the war effort. It allowed the Triunion militaries to project power along the Sehz River where it split Darv and Sapin in two. If it fell to the Alacryans, then the human kingdom would lose one of their greatest breadbaskets and transportation routes.


    That was why the Wall was built so close by in the Grand Mountains. The Alacryans absolutely understood this crucial cornerstone of the Dicathian resistance, and if they could punch through from the Beast Glades to Blackbend, they¡¯d effectively neuter any potential resistance from the southern borders of Sapin in one fell swoop, while also opening up an easy front for the dwarves of Darv.


    My eyes drifted down to the street below, where a caravan pulled by a few skitters hauled goods north. I knew immediately they were on the path to the Wall, delivering supplies for an attack that might never come.


    And six mages guarded them. People I¡¯d known all my life.


    Angela Rose laughed at something one of the caravan guards said, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Durden Walker stuck to his name: the burly earth conjurer strode demurely near the rear of the carriage train, easily in place for magical support if it was ever needed. Jasmine Flamesworth lounged atop one of the cloth roofs of the carriages, my childhood mentor looking supremely bored as she twirled her daggers through her hands. Helen Shard was at the head of the convoy, the half-elf¡¯s bow held in one hand and ready to fire at any time. Though she appeared relaxed, I knew from experience that she was ready for a fight even now in the city¡¯s supposed safety.


    My mother sat on one of the benches of the lead carriage, smiling softly as she knitted something. Her auburn hair¡ªmy hair color¡ªreflected the sunlight in a way that made my heart beat painfully in my chest. And walking beside her, a jaunty smile on his face and an unfamiliar beard grasping at his face, was my father.


    I froze in the sky for a long moment, just staring down at the Twin Horns and my parents as they leisurely continued on their way. Memories of a time long gone drifted through my mind like cool springwater.


    Back when everything was still simple: before the war, before the Vritra, before magic and power and despair, I¡¯d ridden with those mages in a caravan just like that. I¡¯d been bright-eyed and hopeful for the new life I¡¯d found myself in. Mana was still this foreign, mystical energy that crafted wonders and wasn¡¯t a tool of utter war. My family was my family. My previous life could be discussed eventually. It was a problem for future Arthur.


    Back in the days of my youth in this world, I could still feel hope. A kindling certainty that this time, I would be better and nothing could stand in my way. I hadn¡¯t been reforged and rehardened by battle and bloodshed. I hadn¡¯t yet fallen down that cliff to save my new parents and into the comforting grasp of Grandma Sylvia.


    And even after her death¡ªeven after that dark Vritra soldier appeared to take her away¡ªI¡¯d still bore that naive hope for my future. With that last promise I¡¯d made to Sylvie¡¯s mother, I¡¯d believed that I could make lasting, unbreakable relationships to lighten the shade of Grey.


    But back in those days, Adam had still been a part of the Twin Horns. His absence had always been a wound, but I hadn¡¯t known him as well as many of the others. I hadn¡¯t mourned for him in the same way the Twin Horns and my parents did.


    Yet right now, I felt that death squeeze my heart in a way it never had before. Because without Adam, never again could I fool myself into believing things could go back to the idyllic way they were.


    ¡°Arthur,¡±Sylv whispered from within my coat. ¡°There is still hope.¡±


    I wiped away a single, traitorous tear that had started to escape my eye. ¡°There must be,¡± I replied quietly. ¡°There must be hope, Sylvie.¡±


    I started lowering in the sky toward the earth, descending like a leaf on the wind. Jasmine, predictably, was the first to notice me. Her red eyes widened slightly as she shifted into a combat stance atop the carriage roof, calling on her wind magic and revving her mana core. But when she recognized who I was, her conjured spells fell away as she stared in utter surprise.


    I spared her a playful wink as I floated down, allowing myself to be seen by the other caravan guards and travelers so as to not startle them too badly.


    I wasn¡¯t entirely successful. The cries of ¡°General!¡± and ¡°Lance Godspell!¡± and all the subsequent bowing and reverence kind of took this in the opposite direction from what I wanted, but I felt that slight resignation ease as I locked eyes with the Twin Horns. Helen had strode confidently back toward me as I settled onto the dirt path, her eyes welcoming and inquisitive both. ¡°Arthur!¡± she said, patting me on the shoulder familiarly. ¡°Fancy seeing you here!¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Jasmine bounded off the carriage, striding forward ahead of the lumbering Durden as he smiled softly. She looked me up and down with worried red eyes as I thought over what I was going to say. ¡°Hello, Arthur,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You¡¯re able to fly now, huh?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I ascended to the white core not long ago,¡± I said sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck. ¡°It¡¯s a nice perk of being a Lance, I suppose.¡±


    My heartbeat rose painfully in my chest as a familiar mana signature approached. And as the muttering and uncertain guards watched the interaction between me and the Twin Horns with muted fascination and awe, I had to force my stomach not to do a somersault as they drifted closer.


    ¡°We were just on a routine visit to the Wall for a resupply,¡± Helen said amiably. If she sensed my discomfort, she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Were you on the way there, too? There were rumors that a Lance was going to be stationed there pretty soon, after all.¡±


    Plans for that will probably change, I thought darkly, forcing myself to smile in spite of my thoughts. If small beast hordes are appearing across the continent, the deployment of a Lance to the Wall will probably be delayed.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said, trying not to think of the massacres that were occurring all across Sapin right now. Immediately after this, I¡¯d have to return to patrolling and sweeping the countryside for more attacks with Sylv. ¡°I have some news that I needed to deliver to my family.¡±


    Jasmine¡¯s dark brows furrowed as they caught on my words. She knew me better than the rest of the Twin Horns, and she no doubt sensed some of the tension I was restraining.


    The muttering caravan guards parted at last as that familiar mana signature approached, and I turned to face them.


    My father stood, his gauntlets already affixed to his hands. His broad shoulders blocked out the sun, taking up far more space than I remembered. He looked more tired than I last remembered, too, in his battle-scored leather armor and sporting a haircut and beard that had not seen tending-to in at least a week.


    There was a somber sort of air about him, but when he saw me, he smiled brightly, that gloom seeming to slip off of him like a coat that didn¡¯t fit. He strode forward, throwing his arms wide and enveloping me in a massive hug. ¡°Arthur, you¡¯ve grown so much already!¡±


    I froze at the action, thoughts of my last conversation with my parents tumbling like stones down the track of my thoughts. We¡¯d fought about Adam again, as I¡¯d demanded he and Mom refrain from entering the war.


    Hesitantly, I hugged him back, careful to restrain my strength. ¡°Hey, Dad,¡± I said, smiling slightly as he squeezed. ¡°While I appreciate the gesture, you¡¯re kind of suffocating Sylvie.¡±


    My dad blinked his eyes, the same light blue as mine, and hastily separated from me. He raised a brow in surprise as Sylvie¡¯s white fox form clawed out of my jacket, hacking and coughing.


    ¡°Oh, son,¡± he said quickly, suddenly seeming very sheepish, ¡°Or¡­ Lady Sylvie. I did not intend to¨C¡± S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sylvie¡¯s angry thoughts smothered anything my father could¡¯ve said. ¡°The indignity!¡± she thought to me, glaring upward. ¡°I am an asura, not some pet to be smothered in a coat!¡±


    I laughed aloud at that, my tension easing as my shoulders shook. Suddenly, it didn¡¯t seem such a daunting task, what I was about to do. ¡°That you are, Sylv. That you are.¡±


    I carefully took her from my coat, before orienting on an amused Jasmine. The wind augmenter was significantly less enthused once I dropped the ball of fur into her arms.


    ¡°Arthur, what is the meaning of this?¡± she said snippily, which was nearly more words than she¡¯d ever said during our training. ¡°Do you want me to look after¨C¡±


    ¡°Just for a time, Jasmine,¡± I said, hoping the seriousness of my words carried in my voice. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±


    Dad¡¯s smile had progressively fallen as I spoke to the wind augmenter, that gloom shrouding him like a blanket once again as his eyes became more serious. I stared back at him, matching azure with azure. He slowly crossed his arms, no doubt sensing on some level why I was here.


    ¡°Arthur,¡± Sylvie tried, peeking from where Jasmine was nervously holding the foxified dragon, ¡°Just¡­¡±


    I know, I replied after a moment, feeling resignation deep in my bones as I absorbed the rising resolve of my father as he stared me down. I know.


    ¡ª


    Reynolds and I strolled a ways ahead of the caravan, both of us mute as we put one foot in front of the other. I kept my hands shoved in my pockets, working my jaw as I tried to formulate the right words to say that would convey exactly what I needed.


    The news of the massacres would likely spread like wildfire across the entire continent in the next few days, but right now I had a rare chance to speak to my family. To really convince them that what I wanted was right.


    And Reynolds? He wasn¡¯t a fool. He knew immediately that a Lance dropping in out of nowhere on a departing caravan could only be because I wanted to talk to him.


    ¡°Your mother¡¯s going to be worried if we stray too far,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to me. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t outpace them too much.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said lamely, keeping my gaze forward. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right about that.¡±


    The quiet tinkle of birdsong rose from nearby copses of trees like an orchestra of nature. This close to Darv the landscape was mildly hilly, but mostly flat and plains-like. Not far away, a tributary of the Sehz River burbled like my thoughts.


    Reynolds let me think as I gathered myself. Just like the time that felt like an age ago when I¡¯d revealed the truth of my past life to him and Alice, he didn¡¯t interrupt or cut me off. Some part of him understood that I couldn¡¯t be rushed.


    It was strange. I¡¯d been a monster on the battlefield in my previous life. I¡¯d seen the deaths of countless enemies from battle to battle. My name inspired fear in the hearts of all the enemies of Etharia as my armies methodically and efficiently broke my enemies.


    Every time my forces lost a battle, we resurged, learning from our mistakes and winning the next time. I had made an art of learning from my mistakes in both swordsmanship and military tactics. There was a wrong way, and there was a right way. Often, it was as simple as that.


    But conversations like these always snuck up on me. I failed at them again and again no matter how many times I had them. It felt sometimes that I was destined to repeat the same cycles instead of learning from them.


    I took a deep breath, then braced. I just needed to say it. ¡°You and Mom need to withdraw from the war,¡± I said sharply. ¡°Things have changed, Dad. I can¡¯t do this if I know you¡¯re out in the field.¡±


    Reynolds didn¡¯t respond for a while. Just like me, he kept his gaze forward, but I could see the clench in his jaw as he struggled to maintain calm. He kicked a rock in his path, and it went soaring fast enough to kill any unfortunate bird that might intercept it.


    ¡°How many times do we need to have this fight, Arthur?¡± he finally replied, his voice laced with irritation. ¡°How many times do we need to tell you that we have a right to fight for our country, too?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what this is about,¡± I said back, restraining my own anger. ¡°I just got back from a mission that has shifted the Council¡¯s entire perspective of this war. I needed to talk to you before it became widespread news.¡±


    ¡°Why? Have the Alacryans suddenly retreated back to their continent?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I replied, smelling phantom blood and feeling the wraith-like traces of Grey across my mind. ¡°We don¡¯t know how yet, but the Beast Horde didn¡¯t hit the Wall. They¡¯ve been indiscriminately attacking towns and killing thousands.¡±


    Reynolds froze in his tracks, nearly tripping as my words reached him. He turned to look at me, his eyes wide as I continued.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you can¡¯t stay in the war,¡± I argued, turning to look at my father as the momentum of my words carried me on. ¡°It¡¯s not just about soldiers fighting soldiers now, like you thought it was. Now it¡¯s indiscriminate death and destruction. The rules of this war have changed. I know you want to make a difference, but you can¡¯t. Not like this.¡±


    My father¡¯s azure eyes traced over me as I stared at him resolutely. He had to understand. I¡¯d been in far more wars than he had. More wars than anybody on this continent. I was best suited to comprehend exactly what was happening and how little a single soldier meant.


    To my benefit, he appeared to have calmed slightly as my words finished. His shoulders had loosened, and the angry creases in his face had vanished.


    He gets it, I thought with a small note of triumph. I clenched and unclenched my fists, waiting for his response. He¡¯ll¨C


    ¡°How does this change anything?¡± he finally asked, his words crashing through my carefully composed mental state like a battering ram through a castle gate. ¡°Arthur, this only cements what we need to do more.¡±


    More? More?!


    The anger I¡¯d tried to keep in check boiled over. ¡°More?!¡± I snapped, my mana pulsing outward, ¡°More?! Dad, don¡¯t you get it? If you fight in this war, then everyone you know¡ªeveryone¡ªis going to die. Just like Adam! You¡¯ll die pointlessly and emptily! You¡¯ll leave everything behind!¡±


    I marched forward, struggling to keep my aura contained as I stared Reynolds in the eyes. Mine raged like the most tempestuous sea. I¡¯d grown these past few months. I was as tall as he was, nearly taller. But he still couldn¡¯t see from my point of view.


    Agrona¡¯s mocking words from barely a month ago burned in the back of my skull. He¡¯d warned me that this war would be more deadly than any I¡¯d experienced in my past life. And I was terrified that he might be right.


    That fear had been building for so long. It had peaked when I¡¯d witnessed the massacres, and now it had finally found eruption.


    ¡°Do you have any idea what this war will do?¡± I snapped, barely a foot away from my father. ¡°You don¡¯t! You¡¯ve never been in war. You¡¯ve never fought a true battlefield, so of course you don¡¯t get it. But that¡¯s all there is, Reynolds. And every. Single. Time. Every single time we talk, you don¡¯t understand what it means.¡±


    The fist that smashed into my jaw didn¡¯t make me budge an inch, but it was my mind that reeled. Something in Reynolds¡¯ hand broke as it crashed against my chin. He didn¡¯t seem to feel it as he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, staining it with his blood.


    ¡°I knew what war meant the moment Adam died!¡± he yelled, his temper erupting in turn as his face took on a demonic cast. ¡°You think that I haven¡¯t asked myself what the point was? You think I haven¡¯t talked with shadows on the wall?¡±


    He pushed me away, and this time I stumbled. Reynolds¡¯ face was as red as the blood I¡¯d seen in the catastrophe. The yellow earth mana swirling around his fists seemed wrong in that moment. It should have been red fire.


    ¡°You don¡¯t even get how selfish you¡¯re being, Arthur. Just because you got a second chance, you think this world should bend to your whims?¡± he yelled, throwing out his hands wide.


    ¡°No!¡± I yelled back, finding my footing on the uneven ground. ¡°But if you truly understood war, you wouldn¡¯t be out here, ready to die for nothing!¡±


    Reynolds took a long, deep breath. He inhaled, then let it out in a manner reminiscent of meditation. ¡°We only die for nothing if nobody picks up the torch after we¡¯ve dropped it,¡± he said, stomping out the embers of his anger. ¡°You¡¯re right. Adam¡¯s death was pointless. It was empty. He didn¡¯t kill a Retainer or beat back the Alacryans or anything. The only people who will remember and mourn him are us. You were a King, yetsomehow you don¡¯t understand it.¡±


    I wanted my dad to still be angry. Somehow, the act of his cooling rage only made me more furious. Anger was easier to fight, to beat against like an enemy. But I didn¡¯t have a target now. ¡°Then what don¡¯t I understand?¡± I barked back mockingly, raising my arms. ¡°You just admitted I was right. And if I¡¯m right, then¨C¡±


    ¡°There are things bigger than us,¡± Reynolds said, his voice quiet as his ashen hair shadowed his eyes. ¡°The deaths of everyone around us are only meaningless if we let their drive die with them. The Alacryans want to take everything we¡¯ve ever known. Our tiny desires for happiness are unimportant in the face of that. Our individual wants are a worthy sacrifice for those we love.¡±


    He raised his head, looking at me in a way that made my mana core clench and goosebumps trail along my skin. ¡°That¡¯s something you don¡¯t understand, Arthur. You think you¡¯re the only one allowed to sacrifice yourself, because then it will be all okay. But what happens when you get yourself killed, and you¡¯re just another meaningless ¡®Adam?¡¯ ¡± Reynolds said, halfway between a lament and a sneer.


    I couldn¡¯t maintain it anymore. That burning funeral pyre wavered at my father¡¯s words, the genuine question in his eyes making the acclorite in my blood freeze. ¡°If that happens, then there won¡¯t be a war after. It will be enough to win.¡±


    ¡°Is that what your experience as King Grey tells you?¡± my father asked instead, his shoulders slumping. ¡°You¡¯ve been through war. What are the chances of that?¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer, feeling shame crawl with tiny legs through every crevice of my thoughts. I turned away from my father, instead inspecting the long path ahead.


    ¡°This war is bigger than you or me, son,¡± Reynolds said, his voice soft. He approached slowly, something weary in his soul. ¡°I want nothing more than for things to be like they were in Xyrus so many years ago, with your mother, your sister, and you all together. But no family will be able to have that life if we don¡¯t fight for this.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can do this if you all die,¡± I said quietly, feeling like a child crying in the rain. ¡°You¡¯re all I have. You. Mom. Ellie. Tess. Sylv. You¡¯re everything.¡±


    A strong arm wrapped around my shoulder for a time in a comforting way. I was stronger than any mage in this war, but I felt so weak. My father shouldn¡¯t need to lift me back up.


    ¡°There are thousands of mothers and fathers and sisters and lovers and bonds out there, not just yours or mine,¡± Reynolds said with grave exhaustion. ¡°You got a second chance in this world, son. But how many others will? We need to make the world they can live in safely. We can¡¯t trust some illusory deities to give those we love another try.¡±


    ¡°But I¡­ I don¡¯t care about them,¡± I admitted with a raw voice. ¡°Not like I do you all. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m selfish. I want everything to go my way this time.¡±


    Dad was quiet for a few seconds as he processed my words. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like to be a king,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°But I know what it means to be a soldier. And sometimes, all we can do is what we can, even if it means that it hurts those around us.¡±

 Chapter 240: Torn Intent

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I killed the rest of the Bastards Victorious before I set back for Burim. They were destined to die regardless of my actions: separate and alone in a dangerous land, all that awaited them was to succumb to the elements, a predator, or the edge of my blade.


    I simply expedited the process.


    I was confident Wolfrum had told them nothing of substance about Seris. After all, the knowledge he held was the only thing that made his survival worthwhile to the Vechorian mercenaries. He¡¯d slowed them down and made them easier to track all throughout the hostile Glades, and it would have been far harder¨Cif not impossible¨Cto track them without Wolfrum in their party.


    Wolfrum might have been a traitor, but he wasn¡¯t a complete idiot. He knew what made him valuable, what kept him alive amongst monsters.


    The wind whipped across my hair as I flew on Aurora¡¯s back, her massive bronze form glinting in the morning light. Returning to Burim was far simpler than tracking the Bastards: all I needed to do was cut south and reach the ocean. After that, my bond and I flew westward with our prisoner clasped tightly in her mechanical talons as we made for our base of operations.


    I didn¡¯t worry too much about being sighted. Aurora was exceptionally fast in the sky, and superiority over the waves was held by Alacrya with our steamships.


    Currently, I was edging around the southern tips of the Grand Mountains as they pierced the clouds like spears. The Earthmother¡¯s Isle visibly swarmed with activity, even from the sky. I narrowed my eyes as I watched a dozen ironclad steamships coasting about, maintaining a perimeter and effective blockade against any Dicathian ships.


    Many of these ships¨Cand people¨Care no longer directly under Seris¡¯ control, I thought, noting Truacian colors flying from more than a few of the steamships. At the thought of Alacrya¡¯s northernmost Dominion, my mind slipped toward the Scythe I¡¯d recently dueled.


    Aurora flapped her wings, maintaining a hovering position as I stared down at the people below, all small as ants. Something was going on in the Beast Glades that I didn¡¯t understand. I remembered Bilal¡¯s words to his brother about a plan and about trees.


    Something separate from what I¡¯d call ¡°canon,¡± probably, I thought. But what? Does this change the plans to infiltrate Elenoir via sentry? By Circe Milview¡¯s spellform?


    My hands gripped my bond¡¯s burnished feathers as my brow furrowed, these and a hundred more worries bouncing around in my skull.


    ¡°You will not be able to parse the meaning of all that was exchanged so easily,¡± Aurora said over our bond kindly. ¡°We have a mission right now, Toren. Let us see to its completion before we lose ourselves in our heads, hmm?¡±


    I chuckled slightly. Yeah, you¡¯re right, I thought, forcing away questions about Viessa Vritra and everything I¡¯d heard in the Beast Glades between Bilal and Bivran.


    It didn¡¯t take long to reach the cliffs of Burim. The waters were still as always, a few steamships sitting tensely at the dwarven city¡¯s docks. And someone was already waiting for me in the sky.


    Cylrit¡¯s impassive red eyes flicked to where Wolfrum was clasped in Aurora¡¯s massive talons. The traitor had elected to pass out from the whiplash of flight rather than remain conscious, and his arms hung weakly in the air like dangling branches.


    I thought I could see Cylrit¡¯s impassive mask crack slightly as a slight smirk threatened to curve across his face, but then it was gone again.


    ¡°Hello, Cylrit. I¡¯m sure you can see that my mission was a success,¡± I said conversationally. My face darkened slightly, however, as I thought of what had happened after I¡¯d found Wolfrum Redwater. ¡°But I have more important things to report.¡±


    Cylrit nodded sharply. ¡°Master Seris is already waiting for you, Spellsong,¡± he said, and I was glad to notice that the undercurrent of disdain that usually coated our interactions was gone. ¡°And she is already aware of the complications that faced your mission.¡±


    Aurora, I¡¯m going to alter the tether now, I said in warning.


    ¡°Understood, my bond,¡± she replied seriously, her mind on the upcoming report as well. ¡°I am prepared.¡±


    With a bare tug, I altered the source of Aurora¡¯s relic from my core to her shade. In real-time, the massive bronze sculpture¨Cwhich at times appeared like a living statue¨Cflashed white as it began to shrink in on itself.


    And Wolfrum began to fall as his base of support vanished from him. His eyes blew wide open as he was awoken with a sudden jolt, his body falling through the expansive skies toward the cliffs far below.


    He opened his mouth to scream in terror, but I was faster. I reached out with my regalia, clasping the traitor with my telekinetic grip. His body flared with an outline of white as he went rigid, suddenly unable to even scream as the sound mana around him stole the scream from his throat.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said evenly. ¡°Let¡¯s go, Cylrit.¡±


    Without another word, we both flew down toward the massive cavern entrance of Burim. Wolfrum¡¯s leashed body trailed behind us like a balloon on a string, his face trapped in an expression of fear.


    When I entered Burim, however, it was easy to recognize that something was different. As dwarves and men alike traipsed about the infinitely winding corridors along the massive stalactites, I could sense the anxiety in each step. The nervous tension seemed to grasp the dwarven city like a slowly squeezing claw as it pressed the air from its lungs. Even the lavaducts seemed to take care of how fast they flowed, the normally bright molten rock dimmed in anticipation.


    Burim was always dim, but rarely did it feel this dark.


    As I flew toward the Divot, I noticed how many people were hefting supplies¨Cand unlike usual, there were far more Alacryan mages out and about. My mind flashed back to the steamships I¡¯d seen at the docks outside.


    ¡°Cylrit,¡± I started, watching as a few Alacryan soldiers worked with dwarven earth mages in a sparring ring, ¡°what exactly has happened since I¡¯ve been gone?¡±


    Cylrit clearly expected my question. ¡°Master Seris¡¯ plans are shifting to match the tides,¡± he said lowly. ¡°Above all else, she knows to adapt. And so she is.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s songbird fluttered around us, its glowing eyes seeming to take everything in around us. ¡°She prepares for true war, Toren,¡± my bond said, the words making me feel uneasy. ¡°There are battles ahead. Your lover has been content to sit and wait out this war, but the entry of a competitor forces her to change her approach to this conflict.¡±


    A heavy silence weighed across my shoulders as Cylrit and I finally settled down in the Divot¡¯s landing area.


    Seris was already waiting for us, the mask of a Scythe bleeding her face of inflection. Though I doubted anyone else could see it, I saw the flash in her eyes as she spotted Wolfrum, and the ever-so-slight softening of her features as she saw me approach from the sky.


    There was a small crowd waiting as well. Many of Seris¡¯ advisors, a few of the key figures of the dwarven rebellion, and more. They shuffled uncertainly as Seris stepped forward, her expression contemplative as she stared down at Wolfrum¡¯s rictus form. He shook as the Scythe inspected him with a casual air, but I could almost taste a dark sort of¡­. grief


    buried deep within the lavender-haired woman¡¯s psyche. Somewhere far beneath the masks.


    Seris tilted her head, savoring the attention of the crowd. I¡¯d been embroiled long enough in politics and knew my lover well enough to understand precisely what she was doing. She was performing for an audience. ¡°It is an uncommon thing that traitors last so long beneath my boot. Uncommon that the wheat forgets the cut of a Scythe. It¡¯s even a bit impressive, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    The watching audience shuffled nervously as Seris¡¯ aura coiled like a shifting serpent as it surrounded its prey. From the spiking heartbeat in Wolfrum¡¯s chest, he knew his position. His intent wasn¡¯t composed of orderly, distinct emotions anymore. It was more like a mishmashed slurry of primal fear: the kind of fear a rabbit has when it sees the reflective gleam of scales in the dead of night.


    Seris raised a brow as she looked Wolfrum up and down. ¡°I suppose you can¡¯t answer that, can you? A shame.¡± The Scythe¡¯s dark eyes flicked up to mine. ¡°Continue to escort the traitor with me, Toren. We all have much to discuss.¡±


    Without another beat, the Scythe casually swiveled on her heels, her dark dress like a hundred dancing shadows as she strode toward her residence in the Divot, her slim chin turned high.


    I exhaled slightly, sharing a glance with Cylrit, before we both moved to follow. Aurora¡¯s Puppet Form alighted on my shoulder as the darkness of the cavern abode swallowed us like a predator¡¯s jaws.


    ¡°You did well in his retrieval, Toren,¡± Seris eventually said into the darkness as she marched in front of Cylrit and me. ¡°I had my doubts about your chances of success considering how long ago the trail had been laid.¡±


    ¡°A paltry thing,¡± Aurora¡¯s construct echoed melodically, its burning eyes fixed on Seris¡¯ back. ¡°Our quarry knew not to cover their traces effectively. Their base brutality was their downfall. They thought to escape an Asclepius on the hunt.¡±


    Seris turned onyx pupils toward the steampunk puppet as we finally entered her rooms. ¡°It seemed I was mistaken once again, then,¡± she said simply, before her attention shifted to me. I could tell from the purse of her lips and the slight furrow of her perfect silver brows that there was something else on her mind. ¡°But even despite your success in your hunt, there were complications.¡±


    I exhaled sharply through my nose at that, my thoughts immediately darting to my confrontation with Viessa Vritra.


    ¡° ¡®Complications¡¯ is a weak word to use,¡± I replied with humorless mirth, my eyes roving over the many cuts and tears across my clothes where Viessa¡¯s void wind had torn into them. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you know about it, though, despite the distance.¡±


    ¡°My resources might be more limited here on this continent, but wars are won and lost by information,¡± Seris said seriously, her expression settling. ¡°But enough about this for now. We have a prisoner to detain.¡±


    I was just about to ask what she meant when the Scythe tapped her foot along the opaque obsidian floor beneath her boots. The floor rippled slightly as she applied a precise sequence of mana inputs, and my brows rose in curiosity as one of the walls at the far edges of her rooms seemed to melt away, the stone turning to sand and sinking lower and lower.


    ¡°The dwarves are no strangers to hidden passageways,¡± Seris said sadly, staring into the darkness beyond. ¡°You must know this by now, Toren.¡±


    She turned slowly, her gaze settling on Wolfrum. For once, he didn¡¯t cower in fear of the Scythe. The wretch instead stared at the darkness, subsumed by it.


    Seris strode forward, before her hands grasped Wolfrum¡¯s collar. This seemed to pull him out of his stupor, and he tried to thrash. My telekinetic spell held him, however, as Seris pulled his body through the air. With unwavering steps, the Scythe carted her prey toward the dark room beyond.


    Then she tossed him in. The traitor¡¯s body hit the ground with a few weak thumps as he rolled, his eyes staring fearfully back toward us. I felt that pity return as the boy stared out at me, a foolish, terrified hope in his eyes.


    ¡°You are right to pity him,¡± Seris said, breaking me from my thoughts. She imbued mana into the floor again in a pattern, and I watched as sand rose from the floor once more to block all light and chance of escape from Wolfrum.


    I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. ¡°Will he run out of oxygen in there?¡± I asked, hoping the young man wouldn¡¯t simply be left to suffocate.


    Seris shook her head slowly, her silver hair swaying rhythmically. ¡°This is only a temporary solution,¡± she said. ¡°I will need to outfit Wolfrum with mana-restricting shackles and provide basic amenities.¡±


    The Scythe shifted slightly, seeming to shrink a bit. Her ineffable presence became just a little bit smaller. ¡°I try to give them another path, those youths with Vritra blood,¡± she said quietly as the mask she¡¯d worn to the public fell. ¡°One other than experimentation and cruel laboratories.¡±


    I swallowed as the grief swelled in the Scythe for a bare instant, tainted by blackened wings and shifting scales. ¡°Yet despite it all, they sometimes still choose the wrong one.¡±


    I took a step forward on instinct, but I hesitated. There was something about Seris¡¯ intent¨Csomething about this grief¨Cthat told me I shouldn¡¯t push further. I couldn¡¯t afford to lay my hand on her shoulder.


    I pulled my sense of intent inward, knowing that my lover would not want me prodding at whatever wound this was.


    I thought of Caera Denoir with her hidden horns. Of Naereni as she darted about East Fiachra. And there was another woman that she¡¯d sheltered with Vritra blood, too. Maylis Tremblay, if I recalled correctly. And now Wolfrum Redwater.


    Seris had a strange habit of finding young mages with burgeoning basilisk blood before they manifested. She mentored them and raised them like a teacher. Almost like a mother.


    She doesn¡¯t want you peeling away another mask, I chastised myself, stepping back and smothering the direction of my thoughts. Don¡¯t do so. You promised her.


    ¡°Those we teach will not always follow the best path laid for them,¡± Lady Dawn said, sensing my thoughts and the air about us. ¡°Their choices are their own. Wolfrum Redwater made his.¡±


    Seris pulled her shoulders back into their naturally poised position from where they¡¯d slumped, resuming her earlier mask. ¡°Indeed, he did,¡± she said quietly, turning to look at us as she banished that dip in emotion. Her face was once again an even mask, no trace of her earlier cracks. ¡°Now, I will need a detailed report from you, Toren. I will have my talks with Wolfrum later, but I must know if anything sensitive was lost.¡±


    ¡°We ensured that none of the Bastards Victorious still bared fangs,¡± Aurora said from my shoulder, fluttering her metallic feathers as she shifted the topic. ¡°There are none left with the will or ability to speak ill of you, Scythe of Sehz-Clar.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyebrows rose as she inspected the metallic construct on my shoulder, before gesturing to the various seats around the room. ¡°Good to know, Lady Dawn,¡± she said respectfully. ¡°But I implore you to take a seat. I suspect this will be a long talk. I am going to need a very detailed report.¡±


    Cylrit moved with the clank of his dark plate armor as he maneuvered toward the door, standing guard there like a sentinel. Seris lowered herself gracefully into a tall-backed chair that faced the door with the regal poise of a queen. She settled a hand as she inspected me closely, a single brow raised.


    Slowly, I settled into the chaise lounge that faced Seris. I let my thoughts drift away from that unintentional vulnerability Seris had shown me earlier. Internally, I began categorizing everything about the fight in my mind. My eyes flicked to the small table between us, noting the lack of usual teacups.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The Scythe, evidently, noticed my attention. She sighed slightly in disappointment. ¡°No tea today, Toren. It is not a drink I spoil with prisoners about.¡± Her expression settled into something far more serious. ¡°Regardless, tell me of your fight.¡±


    I exhaled, then began to recount the tale from beginning to end. Seris listened attentively as I spoke of how I cornered Wolfrum, then became more pensive as I alliterated the appearance of the corrupted mana beasts.


    ¡°I slew them easily enough,¡± I said, tapping my foot as I recalled the scene. The unnaturally still intent of the beasts still haunted me. So devoid of any sort of inflection. ¡°But that was when it happened. I knew those beasts couldn¡¯t have targeted me without a master. And I sensed her, true enough.¡±


    My hands clenched along my legs as my expression darkened, anger surging from the pit of my chest as I fought back a snarl. Aurora bristled on my shoulder. ¡°She caught me in one of her illusions,¡± I said with irritation. ¡°Picked at my mind. I broke through eventually, but if there is one place that I hold sacred¡­¡±


    I looked up from my clasped hands, sharing an understanding look with Seris. ¡°We fought after that,¡± I said gruffly. ¡°She utilized her reanimation magics to throw the S-class beasts at me, but I nearly speared her through her core. It was only then that I truly thought of the impact killing her would have. She claimed she wanted to take Wolfrum herself, as the Beast Glades were her jurisdiction. But that was a lie. I was her target from the very start¨Cthat much was easy to deduce.¡±


    Seris was silent for a time as my words settled in. Her face shifted as she massaged her chin with her hand, something she did whenever she was thinking deeply. ¡°I concur with you on that point, Toren,¡± she said slowly. Her eyes darkened slightly. ¡°Are you certain Viessa did not obtain any knowledge from Wolfrum himself, or the Bastards he might have been traveling with?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°The Bastards would have happily killed Wolfrum if he gave away even a pinch of information. That was all that kept him alive as they carted him around like a useless doll,¡± I sneered. ¡°And either way, I made certain to finish the rest of them off.¡±


    ¡°And I can ensure that my son¡¯s thoughts were not pried at deeply. Not deep enough for the worst. The spell she used scraped at surface-level thoughts. If she were to delve deeper, she risked my fire,¡± Aurora said gravely from my side, a mirrored anger across our bond. ¡°Your schemes are safe, Scythe.¡±


    Seris actually chuckled slightly at that. ¡°No they are not, Lady Dawn,¡± she said with mild amusement. ¡°It is in the nature of my craft that I will never be truly safe.¡±


    The austere woman across from me likely did not intend the effects her words had. I slowly unclasped my hands, wondering at how long she¡¯d kept her secrets. How long had she kept her true desires hidden and worked to balance an entire plan decades in the making?


    I hadn¡¯t even managed a year in Alacrya before the Plaguefire Incursion blew every bit of security away. But before that, I¡¯d lived with a constant, nibbling anxiety in the back of my mind. The fear of discovery, that all my secrets would be laid bare.


    ¡°Nonetheless,¡± I said, pushing those thoughts away, ¡°I fought Viessa Vritra. I nearly slew her as well¨Cand I am confident I could have if I pressed. But I didn¡¯t wish to risk it. Considering your plans, Seris, I didn¡¯t want to draw more attention than was necessary to you.¡±


    The austere leader of Sehz-Clar sighed deeply at my words. ¡°You did well, Toren,¡± she said, affirming my decision after a moment. ¡°Such action needs to be considered thoroughly before it''s taken. Though I wonder¡­ you thought it possible to kill Viessa?¡±


    I locked eyes with Seris, noting the dark glimmer there. I nodded slowly. ¡°I am unpracticed with my new levels of power,¡± I said slowly, saying the words as they formed in my mind. ¡°I should be capable of far more, but this was my first true battle in the white core. There were places I wasn¡¯t fine-tuned enough. Wasn¡¯t fast enough or didn¡¯t use my senses like I could¡¯ve.¡±


    I thought back to my battle with Viessa with a critical eye. I¡¯d begun to rely so heavily on my sense of intent and heartfire as indicators of my foes that I¡¯d been caught unawares by the resurrected S-class beasts. They didn¡¯t have intent in the same flavors I was accustomed to, and their heartfires were dark and murky.


    I¡¯d been taken by surprise several times in that fight.


    I remembered distinctly as I was nearly trampled into paste by the rhinoran. I¡¯d only escaped with the use of Resonant Flow, which still was a dangerous technique to risk using.


    ¡°But I could have killed her, Seris,¡± I said, hoping the Scythe could sense the seriousness I imbued into my words. ¡°And I¡¯m confident I could if I fought her again.¡±


    Seris nodded slowly, and I knew she understood. ¡°Was there anything else unusual that you noticed during your battle?¡± she pressed after a moment. ¡°With Viessa Vritra¡¯s arrival on this continent, my information and knowledge of the Beast Glades has slimmed down significantly. I need eyes wherever I can manage them.¡±


    My mind immediately jumped to the conversation I¡¯d overheard between Bilal and Bivran in the Beast Glades. Their talk of supplanting Retainer Mawar, but also¡­


    ¡°I think there¡¯s been a change in the plans to assault Elshire Forest,¡± I said, sitting up straighter. ¡°I overheard a conversation between Retainer Bilal and his brother, Bivran. They¡¯re planning to assault the forest still¡ªlikely with sentries and mana relays, as originally planned¡ªbut Bilal, Bivran, and Mawar are going to do something soon.¡±


    Seris¡¯ serious expression didn¡¯t change an inch as she inspected me. Behind me, I was aware that Cylrit was watching me with an uncertain lacing to his intent. Seris¡¯ intent radiated contemplation and focus.


    ¡°Interesting indeed. I¡¯ll have to press for more information from our spies,¡± Seris said slowly. She tapped her fingers against her armrest. ¡°The High Sovereign has shifted his attention from Sapin¡ªat least for the time being¡ªand has shown interest in the elven forest. Perhaps because of the Vessel you told me of. Word from what spies I possess has informed me that she is being interned in the Royal Palace of Elenoir in Zestier. I must move quickly, then.¡±


    I ground my teeth slightly at that, my brow furrowing. Still, that bit of information actually made me relax slightly.


    The Dicathians thought their floating castle was the greatest stronghold they had. It drifted under a veil across the Beast Glades, giving no easy entry or exit to any enemy that dared approach.


    But it had a crucial weakness. Sylvie Indrath was a mouthpiece for Agrona Vritra, and her body could be controlled on a whim by one of the great tyrants of this world.


    Except Agrona will not find it so easy to push Alduin Eralith toward betrayal. Not with Tessia healed of her ailments, I thought, an unwitting smirk growing on my face. And the Alacryan forces will struggle to chart their path through Elenoir without Circe Milview at their forefront.


    Tessia was far, far safer than she was in canon. And that meant that Agrona¡¯s plans¨Cat least for now¨Cwere effectively foiled before they could even be enacted.


    ¡°That is an interesting smile you have on your face, Toren,¡± Seris commented idly, one perfect silver brow raised nearly to her hairline. ¡°What do you find so amusing about this?¡±


    My smile widened as I leaned back, nestling into the chaise lounge and allowing the cushions to envelop me ever-so-slightly. I crossed one leg over the other, resting my arms leisurely against the back of the seat. ¡°Healing Tessia Eralith isn¡¯t the only thing I¡¯ve done these past few months to help this world,¡± I said. ¡°Tessia will be safe in Elenoir, despite Agrona¡¯s plan to thread his way through the Elshire Mist.¡±


    This, at last, finally managed to stump Seris enough that she leaned forward, her intent radiating curiosity even if she restrained it across her person. Her eyes flashed in a way I recognized whenever she saw a puzzle to solve. A problem that needed a solution. ¡°And are these all as grand and earth-shattering as the event that led to your confrontation with Lance Godspell?¡±


    I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it slowly as I considered my response.


    Because the answer to that question was a very big yes. Probably a bigger yes than Seris could comprehend. Because how was one supposed to process the fact that I had future knowledge from a deeply intimate perspective of Arthur Leywin¡¯s life because of a book?


    My continued silence was more than enough to tip Seris off to my secrets, but she gave me time to gather myself. I¡¯d told her honestly before that I still had more of those.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you have dominoes in this world,¡± I finally said, ¡°but there were these little rectangular tiles back on Earth. You could stand them up on end and line them up by the dozen¨Cand when you knocked one over, it would knock the next one over. And the next, and the next. It would cascade to affect one at the very end. A butterfly effect.¡±


    ¡°You did not consult me on this,¡± Seris said after a moment, her earlier curiosity shifting to discontent. ¡°You acted without authorization or my authority.¡±


    I paused, only now realizing that Seris might take issue with my actions. ¡°I set up these ¡®dominoes¡¯ a while ago. Before our talk about Earth,¡± I assured the Scythe, trying to assuage her worries.


    ¡°Before you were certain you could trust me,¡± Seris replied, more to herself. ¡°Regardless of this, you will tell me of any more dominoes you lay down.¡±


    I considered this for a moment, rolling the possibility in my head. I still had plans I wanted to complete. If I wanted to ease the Dicathian resistance in the wake of the continent¡¯s inevitable fall, I would need to find the djinni sanctuary in Darv. I could leave more resources and items there than Rinia ever could. And maybe some sort of hidden message to encourage refugees about Arthur¡¯s survival?


    But how can I explain all of this without revealing the¡­ nature of my knowledge? I wondered, still uncertain about telling Seris that last secret.


    ¡°On the topic of that conversation,¡± Seris said, leaning forward, ¡°and your personal goal, we will have to make some plans.¡±


    My focus snapped back into place as I observed the Scythe with such swiftness it nearly gave my mind whiplash. Nico Sever, and my assassination of him.


    ¡°He will arrive when the High Sovereign deems the game is close to its end,¡± Seris continued. ¡°This could be in weeks, or it could be in months. But I suspect it will be sooner than you think, Toren.¡±


    My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides. Aurora¡¯s relic whirred, its eyes searing through Seris¡¯ soul.


    ¡°I can give you a chance. That is all I can promise you,¡± she said, her voice utterly serious. ¡°By necessity, it must be done with no suspicion whatsoever pointing to us. It cannot be traced back to us.¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s fingers twitched. ¡°If you had not impressed upon me the consequences of letting that cup be filled with the wrong tea, then I would never have even considered the possibility of spilling the drink. But the stakes have never been higher.¡±


    I nodded slowly, thinking Seris¡¯ coded message over in my head.


    ¡°It is greater a chance than I would have expected,¡± Aurora thought to me. ¡°And you can say for certain that Nico will join this war.¡±


    Indeed, I could. Regardless of the changes I had made to the war so far, it was inevitable that Nico would seek out Arthur and Tessia. It would probably just take a really, annoyingly long time for him to actually find Lady Eralith, considering she no longer had the corruption infecting her core.


    But throughout all of this, someone had remained completely and utterly silent. Cylrit was more like a tombstone than a man, even as Seris and I conversed about plans that must have been foreign to him.


    ¡°Is Cylrit going to be brought in on this?¡± I asked aloud, to both Seris and the Retainer. I felt a little uncomfortable talking so candidly with the Scythe as if Cylrit didn¡¯t even exist. ¡°He¡¯s trustworthy. Maybe I don¡¯t trust him like you, Seris, but I trust that he has your best interests at heart.¡±


    Seris opened her mouth to reply, but it was Cylrit who spoke. ¡°Do I need to know this information?¡± he asked, piercing me with eyes of curdled blood. He had only shifted to stare at me with a meaningful expression. ¡°Is what you¡¯re speaking and planning relevant to me in any way?¡±


    I blinked, then frowned. ¡°Well, not really, no, but¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then I do not need to know,¡± he said succinctly, turning his face forward. ¡°If Scythe Seris wishes to inform me of something, she shall inform me of it directly. I have no right to demand more when she has already granted so much.¡±


    I looked at the Scythe out of the side of my eye, nodding slowly in understanding. He is loyal. The most loyal person I have ever met. The moon-blessed mage herself had an ever-so-slight smile at the edge of her lips. Then she sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. ¡°Regardless of all of this talk of cups and tea, Toren. Was there anything else you noticed during your trek? Anything more about Viessa herself? Her emotions, perhaps?¡±


    I opened my mouth to say no, but then my mind hitched as I focused on something in particular. Seris and Cylrit¡¯s intents were all so full. Even if they did not convey emotion in any particular way, I could still almost taste the nuance behind each and every feeling and pull on their heart. Every heartbeat carried hints towards the souls beneath. Hints I could hear and feel with my own heart. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°But there was one whose intent was not so full. It was weathered away, like a rock ground to powder beneath the pounding of boots,¡± Aurora thought, reaching the same conclusion I had. ¡°Half a mind. Half a person.¡±


    ¡°Viessa Vritra¡¯s emotions were¡­ strange,¡± I said, looking up at the ceiling. ¡°Like she was a doll that had been picked apart, then put back together. But not everything was put back in the right way. Things were out of place in her intent. There were times in our battle when she should have felt something, or shouldn¡¯t have felt something, or felt something in a diagonally-upside-down way. Her intent was already difficult to detect, so it took me a while to truly pinpoint it, but¡­¡±


    I blinked in surprise as I felt Seris¡¯ emotions recede slightly¨Cthe same as Cylrit¡¯s. I looked down from where I¡¯d been tracing patterns on the ceiling, and I thought I saw a bit of Seris¡¯ Scythian mask return to her face. Like a barrier of cold stone.


    ¡°So that confirms it,¡± Seris said after a moment. She uncrossed her legs as she prepared herself to stand. ¡°It is a carefully kept rumor in Taegrin Caelum that Viessa Vritra received special attention from one of the Sovereigns early in her tenure. What reports and information I could find stated that she returned differently. Wrong. As if part of her mind had been damaged.¡±


    The implications fell into place quickly. Aurora¡¯s puppet seethed as it flapped its wings in agitation, the little steampunk sparrow tapping its feet.


    ¡°There is only one who can compare to Agrona in sheer malice and apathy in the face of the mind,¡± Aurora said across our bond. ¡°Only one who meddles with the stream of consciousness as if it were putty, poking and prodding where he shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Sovereign Orlaeth,¡± I said, certain of my words. ¡°He is an empath, is he not? A powerful one. And he toys with minds.¡±


    Sovereign Orlaeth had only been seen once. The two-headed Vritra had been¡ªwould be?¨C-summarily executed by Seris herself as an announcement of her rebellion. A proclamation that mortals could make gods bleed.


    But before that, Orlaeth had picked apart the minds of Caera and Cylrit. With barely a touch, he¡¯d divined Seris¡¯ treachery and the trap laid for him. It had gone sideways for the two-headed psychopath in the end, of course, but to so casually peel apart thoughts¡­


    Seris nodded slowly, her mask up, almost like a trained response. And it probably was. ¡°Sovereign Orlaeth is among the most dangerous of the Vritra, Toren, for one reason above all.¡±


    I frowned, my body feeling suddenly cold as the mood darkened. ¡°Because he can influence the mind. Because he¡¯s an empath who can do more than just sense your emotions. He can peel away your thoughts.¡±


    I restrained a shudder as my mind went to that grim, blood-stained Central Cathedral. Repressed memories flashed like lightning in my mind, and the resounding thunder threatened to make me tremble. I remembered the phantom pain of Agrona¡¯s dark, horrid touch as it gouged troughs across my mental world.


    There was no greater violation. No greater indignity, no greater dehumanization than to have another tear apart your thoughts against your will.


    Aurora¡¯s healing touch across our bond helped center me again. I forcefully unclenched my hands as I took a deep breath.


    Seris waved a hand as she slowly stood, her mood deteriorating as well. ¡°That is not the reason why, Toren. That is part of it, but it is only a compounding factor for the base dangers beneath,¡± she said seriously. ¡°Orlaeth is dangerous because he takes interest in lesser affairs in a way the others don¡¯t.¡±


    The air around us stewed for a time as Seris strode to the center of the room, staring down at the opaque floor. I knew it could be turned semi-transparent with barely an input of mana, which would give the Scythe a piercing view of the city far below. She could watch all the mages below like ants as they went about their days, unaware of the powers that gazed from above.


    Now, more than ever, Burim felt like a cage¡ªa place where my wings were clipped and my freedom restricted.


    What is she thinking? I wondered, restraining myself from where I sat on the chaise lounge. I sensed that my lover needed space right now. Space to think. What worries cloud her mind?


    Seris had a deeply contemplative look on her face as she gazed at the floor. Anyone else might think she was simply gazing at the glass, but I knew better. As a white core mage, Seris could no doubt sense nearly all the mana signatures across Burim. She could feel as the city itself moved and flowed with the preparations for war.


    But mentioning Orlaeth seemed to unsettle the silver-haired Scythe in a way I didn¡¯t anticipate. Her masked intent made it clear that she didn¡¯t want her thoughts to be known, and the dark cast to her features warded me away.


    ¡°Can you sense what I am feeling right now, Toren?¡± Seris finally asked, her voice cutting through the gloom.


    I worked my jaw slightly. ¡°I can. If I try.¡±


    ¡°Are you trying?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m keeping my attention inward,¡± I responded after a second, my brow furrowing. I leaned forward in the chaise lounge, resting my elbows on my knees. ¡°I got the sense that you wouldn¡¯t want me to look right now. I respect that, Seris. I always will.¡±


    Seris exhaled a breath that seemed to make her seem a bit smaller. The dark-dressed Scythe always filled whatever room she entered with her presence. Wherever she walked, none could ignore her. She drew the eye in the same way a full moon did. Beautiful, awe-inspiring, great beyond comprehension.


    But she also held most in the palm of her hand, pulling on their fear and directing them like a master. As much as she was the moon, Seris was also a grim reaper. But all of that fell away for a moment as Seris thought of what to say next.


    Except what she asked next was entirely outside of my expectations.


    ¡°I need to know, Toren,¡± she said, turning to face me with the mask of a Scythe fully on her features, ¡°do you know what the rune on your back has done?¡±

 Chapter 241: Lacking Knowledge

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I didn¡¯t know how to respond to that question at first.


    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®what it¡¯s done?¡¯ ¡± I pressed, immediately uncertain. I slowly stood, feeling the silence in the air.


    I took a step forward toward Seris, wanting to ask her more, but the guarded look on her face¨Cthe very same mask she showed me as a Scythe¨Cmade me halt in my steps. Her intent was an expanse of endless fog. Intentionally unreadable.


    ¡°Do not approach, Toren,¡± Seris said, the words sharp and commanding. ¡°Not yet.¡±


    I stood awkwardly at the center of the room, my hand lowering to my side as I peered behind me. Cylrit stared back at me from the door, guarding it like a stone sentinel.


    Out of the edge of my perception, I could sense as Cylrit¡¯s stance shifted ever-so-slightly. He was ready to move. Ready to act at a moment¡¯s notice. But he wasn¡¯t prepared to fight. In fact, I got the sense that he was worried. Solemn.


    On my shoulder, Aurora¡¯s construct fluttered its wings in agitation. ¡°They think you are a danger... No. That you are in danger.¡±


    Seris didn¡¯t respond immediately, instead maintaining a distance from me that seemed to stretch further and further. I imagined this must be what an infected animal felt like. What a dog with rabies must distantly be aware of as all avoided them.


    It clicked¨Cand my eyes widened in horror. My expression changed from one of silent hurt to dread realization as the puzzle pieces aligned.


    Seris had asked if I knew what my rune had done. She kept a distance now, fearing for not just her safety, but my own as well. My jaw tensed as sweat began to bead along my back, tracing lines toward the rune emblazoned on my lower spine.


    I could feel the water as it glided over the intricate spellform. It seemed to stay there, trapped as if by gravity.


    ¡°Runes,¡± I said slowly, tracing the paths of our conversation from before. Of how Seris¡¯ mood had darkened at the mention of how the Sovereigns so casually meddled with the minds of their slaves. ¡°they¡¯re a backdoor to the mind somehow. They¡¯re a weakness.¡±


    Seris didn¡¯t respond. Only stared at me with a cool gaze that hid the turbulence of her emotions.


    My eyes slowly widened as the implications began to settle into place. Was I in danger of Agrona just¡­ puppeteering my body? Like he did his own daughter? But no, if what Seris implied was true, then¨C


    Not just me. Everyone. Every. Single. Alacryan. Every mage with a rune was compromised somehow.


    I took a step backward as my head swirled, my heartbeat rising as I struggled to keep myself under control. I recalled back to my knowledge of that otherworld novel. Of how confident Agrona had seemed in squashing Seris¡¯ rebellion, even despite his various losses.


    I need to stay calm, I thought. I¡¯d been in too many high-stress situations to lose my head over one thing I didn¡¯t know. I need to take a deep breath. I need to be calm.


    But surprisingly, it was Aurora who spoke next, the songbird on my shoulder fluttering away and settling on the tea table nearby.


    ¡°You are safe from this, my son,¡± she said solemnly, staring up at me. ¡°The dangers within your spellform have been scoured away. Broken under will and force.¡±


    Aurora appeared before me as the Unseen World overtook my vision. Even though the songbird sat on the table, my bond¡¯s asuran shade stood by my side, a solid arm resting on my shoulder.


    Seris¡¯ eyes flashed, and her pink lips parted as she focused intently on the clockwork bird. ¡°Broken, you say?¡± she started. ¡°You say these restrictions have been broken? How, Lady Dawn? I must know.¡±


    The normally calm and collected Scythe seemed to brim with barely contained fervor as her eyes drifted from the songbird to a place just at my side. The place where Aurora¡¯s shade stood.


    Seris could not see my bond¡¯s ghost, I knew. But all the same, she seemed to understand exactly where she stood.


    ¡°It was soon after I brought Toren to this world,¡± Aurora said, both her steampunk bronze puppet and shade speaking in a melodic monotone. ¡°He knew he would not survive the trials placed before him. Not without the versatility of organic casting. So together, we broke the shackles that bound his power. By force and flow of mana.¡±


    I blinked, then whirled on Aurora. ¡°You mean that you knew about this?¡± I pressed, focusing on the implications. ¡°You knew my rune acted as a backdoor for¡­ whatever it is that Agrona wants?¡± I snapped in agitation, throwing my hands in the air.


    I thought back to my first few hours in this world. How I¡¯d recognized I wouldn¡¯t survive without body-strengthening magic to keep me alive in the Clarwood Forest. When I¡¯d attempted to strengthen my flesh and bones with mana, my very spellform had fought back, trying to suppress my will and force me away from the path.


    Aurora had helped me then. The first time she¡¯d ever helped me. Her will had bolstered mine, allowing our mana to punch past the restrictions. Something had indeed cracked in my spellform after that, but I hadn¡¯t noticed anything different. But I was also inexperienced and weak when it came to knowing my power.


    But if Lady Dawn had known all along, then that meant she knew about the restrictions placed on everyone.


    The phoenix shade¡¯s features softened slightly as she read the horror in my thoughts. Even as I stared her down, she only gazed at me with a quiet sadness. ¡°I did not know, my bond,¡± she said solemnly, ¡°but I suspected. Too long was I captive under that mad tyrant¡¯s clutches, Toren. And he never, ever


    gives gifts freely. With every bite of food, there is a hook embedded within. A deadly spike ready to tie you to his whims and desires.¡±


    My shoulders slumped as I closed my eyes, turning away from Aurora as I massaged the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. I shouldn¡¯t have lashed out at her, but it was difficult to think about this. I didn¡¯t even know exactly what the runes normally allowed Agrona to do, but¡­


    ¡°Indeed, Lady Dawn,¡± Seris said quietly. ¡°The High Sovereign can only give tainted gifts. Never would he allow lessers to grasp their own fate. Never would he give them the chance to seize their destiny.¡±


    I looked at Seris, feeling something in my heart shift as I stared at her. ¡°Seris, are you¡­ does he have you?¡± I asked fearfully. That horrible, horrible sensation of Agrona¡¯s mana tendril tearing apart my thoughts surfaced once again. ¡°Can he hurt you? Whenever he wants, just because of your runes?¡±


    Seris chuckled, the sound dark and without humor. She strode closer, finally breaking that uncrossable gap between us. Her slim hand rested on my chest as I looked down at her fearfully. ¡°He will always be able to hurt me, Toren. I¡¯ll never be free of the claws he¡¯s sunk into everything I know.¡±


    My body tensed as I clasped Seris¡¯ slim shoulders, my eyes darting across her body as if I could see the tendrils Agrona might sink into her soul. My mind worked at triple speed as I worked over everything I knew. ¡°I can find a way to free you from that,¡± I said quickly, saying the words as they came. ¡°I¡¯m certain. My rune fought back against me. It was only a crest at the time, but I was still able to break past it with Aurora¡¯s help. Maybe if¨C¡±


    My words choked off as Seris wrapped her arms around me, hugging me. I ground my teeth as she clasped me tightly¨Cbut not too tightly.


    Slowly, I wrapped my arms around the Scythe¡¯s petite form as she nestled her forehead into my chest, her horns spearing just past my head. I fought not to squeeze my arms, foolishly worried that Agrona would snap his fingers and do whatever it was he could right here and now. ¡°Seris, if he¡¯s infected you, hurt you¨C¡±


    ¡°Hush, Toren,¡± she commanded, hugging me tighter for an instant. ¡°Allow me this.¡±


    I swallowed, my fear and worry like a roiling storm inside my gut. I restrained myself from falling into the clinical mindset I took whenever I healed someone, to ask questions and diagnose problems and pains.


    At my side, Aurora watched with a fond¨Cif slightly sad¨Clook, and Cylrit¡¯s expression softened. I didn¡¯t know that was even possible.


    Finally, Seris separated from me, pushing herself away. She held her arms around my waist, and my fingers still protectively clasped her shoulders as she stared up at me with a soft cast to her sharp features. ¡°When a mage is elevated to the position of Scythe or Retainer, Toren,¡± she said slowly, brushing a lock of hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear, ¡°those common restrictions are lifted by the High Sovereign himself. They are limiters, you see. Bars to greater power and understanding of your runes. Except there are other chains placed afterward. Different ones.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak, but Seris¡¯ brow furrowed in slight annoyance. Sensing her intent, I closed it, restraining my flurry of questions. She turned her head slightly toward where Aurora¡¯s shade stood¨Cno doubt able to deduce her location from my earlier attention¨Cand adopted a strange expression.


    ¡°Did you not teach your son patience, Lady Dawn?¡± she asked with a hint of characteristic teasing. ¡°He cannot stand to wait for the answers he seeks.¡±


    Aurora tilted her head, amusement radiating over our bond in a steady hum. ¡°I tried my best, Scythe,¡± she said with both songbird and shade, ¡°but he is not one to retain reason when the lives of those he cares for are at stake. You know this.¡±


    My bond¡¯s slight prodding¨Csomething familiar and grounding¨Callowed me to center my thoughts more as Seris finally turned back to me. Her touch was warm as we held each other, a slight smile spreading across her face. One that almost looked devious.


    ¡°I broke those restrictions as well long ago too, Toren,¡± she said, her eyes narrowing into self-satisfied half-crescents. ¡°I am free from direct magics. My mind is my own.¡±


    My shoulders slumped as relief flooded through my system like a hot balm. I rested my forehead against Seris¡¯, cognizant of her sprouting impala-esque horns as they rested coolly against my forehead. ¡°You¡¯re safe, then,¡± I said with an exhale. ¡°You won¡¯t just have your mind torn from you at any moment.¡±


    ¡°No, I will not,¡± Seris said with liquid grace, her breath slow and even despite the slowly-increasing pace of her heartbeat. ¡°But not all is well. I have toiled long and hard to try and deduce the secrets of the runic restrictions placed on nearly all Alacryan mages, so that I may eventually tear them apart.¡±


    At those words, I shared a look with Aurora, a steady stream of information streaming over our bond as we formulated a quiet plan.


    Seris¡¯ face shifted as she looked up at me, her pink lips ever-so-slightly parted. ¡°It is not courteous to bar me from your conversations, Toren,¡± she said with true authority. ¡°What is it that you are discussing so deeply with your bond?¡±


    I let out a deep breath. ¡°We can show you,¡± I said after a second. ¡°I don¡¯t know how helpful it will be, but Aurora and I can give you what information we have and explain the process of what we did to break past the restrictions.¡±


    Seris separated from me at last, leaving me strangely cold as she straightened out her dress and rearranged her perfect silver hair. ¡°That would be well,¡± she said, shifting back to her Scythian mask. ¡°I will need all you can show me soon. But in the meantime, I have an upcoming meeting to attend.¡±


    Cylrit chose that moment to step forward, putting himself across from us as the mood shifted. ¡°There have been talks for the past several days strategizing for the upcoming assault on Vildorial,¡± he said primly, his eyes cool. If he was affected by the moment Seris and I had shared, he did not show it. ¡°I will be part of the vanguard, but it will be important to include you in the finalizing steps, Spellsong.¡±


    Seris nodded as she strode around toward her desk. She shifted a few papers around in an orderly manner as she spoke. ¡°Indeed. The dwarves have been more involved with Elder Shintstone¡¯s help, but this will be the first battle where Sehz-Clarian troops are effectively deployed to fight. Viessa has forced my hand with her entrance into this war, and I must push my plans forward ahead of time.¡±


    She stacked a few papers into a neat pile, before turning to me with a covert swish of her dress. ¡°You will need to read these over before the meeting,¡± she said primly, offering me the stack.


    I hesitated for a moment, before ironing out my will. I engaged my rune, feeling a strange concoction of relief as I called on my power.


    The papers floated over to me, outlined in white. I took them, doing a brief scan of the contents.


    Within was a wealth of information about the previous meetings. Which captain would contribute which troops, how many dwarves would be present, the avenues of attack, and more.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give this a comprehensive read,¡± I said absently, my eyes tracing over the flowing script. ¡°Is there anything else you need from me right now, Seris?¡±


    Seris shook her head. ¡°No, Toren, not at this moment. Though there is news of the war I will need to tell you soon. News that I will need Lady Dawn¡¯s input on.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I paused, staring up at Seris at the focus in her words. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, feeling suddenly worried. ¡°Something changing in the warfront?¡±


    I wracked my mind to try and categorize everything I knew about the war. What else could have gone differently?


    Seris exhaled slowly through her nose. ¡°Indeed, Toren. But it might¨Cno, will disturb you. I wish to learn all I can before I reveal what I know. The information I have is infuriatingly sparse. It should be higher, but¨C¡±


    ¡°Viessa,¡± I growled, already certain of my answer. ¡°She¡¯s doing something. Or has done something.¡±


    Viessa and Seris weren¡¯t on the best of terms. They were akin to ascenders competing for accolades on their ascents. And if Viessa had done something outside of Seris¡¯ expectations¡­


    The silver-haired Scythe didn¡¯t reply to my statement, which was an answer in and of itself.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, trusting the woman across from me. If she needed more information, I¡¯d let her take her time¨Cthough I worried about what would cause her to hesitate. ¡°I¡¯ll be going, then.¡±


    I nodded slowly, already working to categorize everything I¡¯d learned inside my head. I turned on my heel after a respectful nod, beginning to lope toward the door. Within my head, I contemplated all that Seris had revealed to me.


    My knowledge of The Beginning After the End was imperfect. I¡¯d always known that, and especially after I began pushing for changes. Considering the assault on the Elshire Forest was now being led by Bilal and Bivran, I knew I¡¯d affected something.


    Whether that be because Tessia was no longer so easy for Agrona to grasp or some other unforeseen influence, my actions were already affecting this world.


    As I reached the door, Aurora¡¯s shade striding beside me in lockstep, I perked up, finally remembering something. ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± I said absently, calling on my mana. I turned around as I withdrew something from my dimension ring, before floating it over to the waiting Scythe.


    I smirked triumphantly as Seris observed the completed telekinesis puzzle, savoring the way her eyebrows scraped her hairline. ¡°I figured you should probably know I completed that already. It was even a little bit challenging, but not enough.¡±


    Seris¡¯ brow furrowed in annoyance as I dropped the puzzle in her hands. She opened her mouth, clearly just about ready to retort with something to even the theoretical playing field¡ªshe hated losing in these things, after all¡ªbut I swept out of the room before she could, shutting the door with a pulse of telekinesis.


    I could hear the Scythe¡¯s exasperated sigh from behind the door with my enhanced hearing. That only made me internally gloat even more.


    ¡°That was immature, Toren,¡± Aurora said, her robed form resting against a nearby pillar. Her clockwork relic fluttered around my head. ¡°Trying so obviously to get the last word in.¡±


    I snorted. She¡¯s the one who tries to one-up me with her puzzles, I said, feeling very proud of myself for my childish antics. I get to savor a win now and again.


    Aurora rolled her eyes, before the Unseen World simmered away.


    My smile slowly slipped as I stared down at the papers in my hands, thoughts of the upcoming war and all that had changed filtering through.


    Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, however, a familiar person stepped from the room behind me. I raised a brow as I noted Cylrit¡¯s impassive, armored form looming there.


    I stared at him. He stared at me.


    Cylrit shifted uncertainly, struggling to maintain eye contact. ¡°Thank you, Toren,¡± he finally said, his tone stiff as a board, ¡°for allowing her to feel.¡±


    Then he swept past me, marching as if there were a dozen fire ants nipping at his heels. His boots clanked audibly as he practically fled the hallway, radiating quiet embarrassment over his receding intent.


    I blinked, subtly flabbergasted that Cylrit had hit me with the exact petty trick I¡¯d played on Seris a moment earlier. Aurora chortled over our bond.


    ¡°It seems Seris is not the only one that struggles to express their emotions,¡± she said. ¡°How amusing.¡±


    I looked down at the stack of papers in my hands, smiling softly despite all the chaos that pervaded my life. I needed to read these papers first, then I had a meeting to attend.


    ¡ª


    The meeting itself was a strange mirror of the first I¡¯d attended with Seris¡¯ captains as we sought a route to capture Burim. Now, however, there was a clear divide between Alacryan and dwarf at the meeting table.


    A central stone table ran the length of the cavernous meeting room, which was carved into the deepest parts of the Divot. The table itself was interlaced with barely-glowing ore that made it seem like we were camped around a vein of fire salts. All I¡¯d been able to hear for the past couple of hours was the clanking of metal gauntlets and talk of troop distribution and cavern skirmish tactics.


    On one side, dwarves of all walks of life lobbied for effective routes into Vildorial, proposing and ironing out the final strategy of assault. At their head was Jotilda Shintstone, her long gray hair tied into a thick braid as her solid jaw barked suggestions and orders alike to her fellow dwarves.


    Across from the dwarves at the long table were Seris¡¯ captains, all accomplished members of the southernmost Dominion. Dromorth, with his thick arms and small glasses, gave inputs rarely. His ebony skin was covered in sweat from the overly warm room, and he was constantly wiping away his forehead with a towel. Captain Alyx¨Cwho apparently was one of the newer recruits to Seris¡¯ retinue¨Chad shaved his stringy beard and didn¡¯t participate nearly as much in conversation.


    In contrast to the two sides, Seris, Cylrit, and I stood at the head of the table. Seris herself lounged in a highbacked chair on a slightly raised podium, giving her a perfect angle to look down on all of the attendees.


    It was a less-than-subtle proclamation about who truly held the power here.


    Cylrit was a stalwart sentinel as ever, standing proud and regal at Seris¡¯ right hand. Not a lock of hair was out of place on his head, and he observed the proceedings with a deliberately calm expression. Neither he nor his master interrupted the proceedings very often, though Seris made certain to occasionally remind her subjects of her presence.


    And I stood at Seris¡¯ left, listening intently to the conversations as they flowed around me. With my enhanced sense of hearing and perception, I was able to absorb practically everything uttered around me, processing it at heightened speed due to the mana circulating through my brain.


    Truthfully, my input hadn¡¯t been needed too much. The dwarven rebels and Alacryans had managed a surprisingly stable partnership as they hashed out plans to take Vildorial, though the more politically adept of the dwarves understandably viewed us with more caution.


    Most of the input I¡¯d presented had been as a way to mediate slight disagreements between Alacryan and dwarven parties. With greater Alacryan presence in the city, the characteristic arrogance of many regarding their blood had begun to resurface, but a slight maneuver here and there allowed me to tamp it down with precision.


    ¡°You have improved greatly in your political skills,¡± Aurora mused from the side, watching the proceedings with a calculating sunlit eye. ¡°No longer must I elucidate the intricacies of every action to you.¡±


    I¡¯ve had a long time to think of my political mistakes, I thought to my bond. It¡¯s about time I got my head in the game.


    It had been decided that Cylrit and Olfred would lead the vanguards toward the dwarven capital. We still didn¡¯t have enough Alacryans to hold the city against a hostile force, but the dwarven rebellion had been picking up more and more heat as time went on. Whispers that an Alacryan had freed Lance Olfred from his tethers to the asura while the Council had detained Councilor Rahdeas had spread like wildfire across Darv for the past couple months.


    It truly shifted my perspective of the war. In original canon, Seris had been content to lounge about in the caverns of Darv, effectively twiddling her thumbs and allowing Agrona¡¯s master plan to unfold. But as I watched Seris covertly shift her pieces across the great board of war, I recognized how lucky Dicathen had been that she¡¯d restrained herself during original canon.


    Jotilda Shintstone was currently hashing out the distribution of dwarven earth mages that she would use to assist an Alacryan strike force along the central avenue of the city.


    ¡°And I¡¯m telling you, ya big oaf,¡± she said sharply, ¡°that ya need at least three seismic sensors if you want to do this right with no complications. There are countless tunnels all around Darv, and ya need good dwarven hands on the ground sensing for others. An assault on the caverns will only serve to get rocks shoved up our arses if our enemies manage to tunnel in from behind.¡±


    Captain Dromorth sighed¡ªsomething I¡¯d learned he had a tendency to do¡ªbefore he took off his small spectacles. He rubbed at them with a cloth, clearing away the condensation from the humidity, before he slowly put them back on. ¡°That is not what I am suggesting, Shintstone,¡± he said with restrained poise. ¡°We plan to push the city from two fronts: a feint toward the teleportation gates, and a separate, undercover strike at the Council of Lords to unseat the leadership. But the second strike needs to be done with precision and as few people as possible. Three seismic sensors just means three more points of failure.¡±


    Jotilda huffed, crossing her arms and furrowing her blocky brows. She and Dromorth had something of a respect for each other. Jotilda, a begrudging kind while Dromorth sounded like a tired uncle every time he spoke with the dwarven elder.


    Aurora didn¡¯t need to prod me as I saw an opportunity. I leaned forward, subtly pressing into the air with my intent. I¡¯d gotten even better at that recently, the complexity of emotion and experience I could convey astronomically higher with my white core abilities.


    The attention of the table shifted to me as I leaned forward. I made sure to meet the eyes of both sides of the table, doing my best to convey my respect and intent. I set my hands on the table like sturdy posts as I naturally captured the attention of all present.


    ¡°Captain Dromorth raises a valid point,¡± I said slowly, nodding in respect to the dark-skinned man. ¡°The second front is a stealth mission. There are contingencies in place in case that fails, of course, but the best case scenario is that it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    I turned to Jotilda next. ¡°But Elder Shintstone is also right. You can¡¯t afford to let yourself be surrounded or caught unawares, but there¡¯s a fix to both of these,¡± I said, raising a hand. I pointed a finger at a figure shadowed at the far end of the hall.


    As the attention of the room shifted to him, Olfred Warend stepped forward with a deliberately blank expression. We locked eyes, his intent roiling and uncertain beneath the fog of his mana.


    ¡°Olfred Warend is a white core mage,¡± I said. ¡°Most people can¡¯t even sense his mana signature due to the sheer difference in core level. He¡¯ll also be able to find anyone well before they find him,¡± I continued, tapping my knuckles on the heavy stone table as I rattled off my points. ¡°A logical appointment, no?¡±


    I knew Olfred had been itching to do something for the past few weeks. The poor dwarf had enough inner demons and turbulent questions for a lifetime, and waiting in Burim at Rahdeas¡¯ bedside had only made those hellish questions fester like a wound.


    Olfred¡¯s brows creased as he opened his mouth, then he turned to a man just beside him. Rahdeas.


    I felt something in me shift in worry for a reason I couldn¡¯t comprehend as Rahdeas¡¯ hollow eyes stared through and past me again. Like he was focusing on something he thought was there, but knew didn¡¯t exist.


    The dwarven elder had been invited to the council as a measure of respect, but he¡¯d never raised a word of input. Everyone believed his mind to be broken and addled. For the dwarves, it served as a constant reminder of the Triunion¡¯s failure. For Seris, he was a convenient tool to keep the dwarves in line.


    But as the dwarf reached a single, meaty hand into his pocket, I felt a subtle wrongness pervading my system. Rahdeas stepped forward, the council all watching him with a mix of pity, disgust, sympathy, and respect.


    ¡°Aye, I see the point you make, Toren Daen,¡± Rahdeas said. ¡°I might even agree with it. But first¡­ first, I want you to see something.¡±


    My eyes flicked to the dwarven elder¡¯s hand, goosebumps rising along the back of my neck for some reason I couldn¡¯t discern. My instincts said that whatever he was hiding was dangerous, but I didn¡¯t know why.


    Rahdeas withdrew a simple envelope from his vest, before setting it on the table. ¡±Tell me what you think, Spellsong,¡± he said distantly. ¡°And I¡¯ll approve Olfred¡¯s appointment.¡±


    By this point, Seris had taken direct notice of our conversation. Her brows were furrowing in consternation as she stared down at the dwarf, and the subtle glance she gave me told me that she was willing to intervene if necessary.


    No doubt she had that very same sense as I. That something was wrong.


    Rahdeas pushed the envelope, and it slid over the table with unnatural grace. Like a dancer moving across ice, it seemed to carry its own sort of weight as it skated down the length of the twenty-foot table.


    I stared down at the letter as it finally arrived in front of me, and the pristine edges of the gray paper seemed to drip with venom. The envelope was sealed with wax, but there was no stamp or signet ring marked at the center.


    The entire room was silent as the letter sat like a solid stone before me.


    ¡°Open the letter,¡± Rahdeas¡¯ voice said, like a tempting devil on my shoulder. ¡°The contents pertain to you and what you¡¯ve done in this world since you arrived.¡± S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I looked up at the dwarven elder, suddenly feeling a numbness spreading from the depths of my mana core. I stared hard into his eyes, trying to piece apart any sort of meaning, to tear away any sort of mask he was wearing that shrouded his words.


    After all, Rahdeas had known that Arthur was a reincarnate. He¡¯d known Nico was a reincarnate. A treacherous thought wormed through my skull.


    ¡°Pertain to what you¡¯ve done in this world since you arrived.¡±


    Every other person at this table no doubt thought they knew what Rahdeas meant with his words. No doubt he was simply referencing how I¡¯d come to Dicathen and started influencing the war. Things like saving Olfred Warend, snapping his tether to the Lance artifact, my duel with Arthur Leywin, and more.


    But I saw something else in the subtle smile of the dwarf¡¯s lips. A quiet knowing¨Cthe same kind of smirk that addled madmen had when they thought they knew something everyone else didn¡¯t.


    Seris leaned forward, no doubt catching what could be a hidden message as well. She opened her mouth, about to speak. But I cut her off, reaching out my arm. Trusting my judgment, the Scythe instead turned her attention to the letter as well.


    The letter felt heavier than it should¡¯ve as I inspected the seal.Aurora¡¯s guard was up as she hovered protectively near my back, her sunlit eyes burning holes into the paper. ¡°You said that it would pertain to what I¡¯ve done in this world,¡± I said seriously, my mana coiling beneath my skin. ¡°Do you know the weight of those words, Rahdeas?¡±


    Olfred stepped protectively in front of his foster father as he sensed my unease, but Rahdeas simply chuckled. ¡°Weight. A funny term, Spellsong. Read the letter. It has everything you need.¡±


    I flicked open the seal, breaking it with ease, before I pulled the contents from the letter.


    And my face immediately drained of color as I saw what was inside. Half a dozen pictures of different scenes of carnage and brutality presented themselves in a macabre display. Bodies upon bodies upon bodies were layered like bricks in a foundation of flesh. Piles of corpses were stacked like gruesome monuments to the mocking sky.


    Each image showed a different massacre. There must have been thousands of them. Thousands of people torn apart, then thrust into broken pyramids of death and decay. Red subsumed everything in the photos, and I could almost smell the stench of death through the ink. Waterfalls of blood streamed down in slow rivulets as each body relinquished their hold on the mortal plane. The recording artifact itself seemed to struggle to capture it all.


    I swapped between each picture with a frenzied pace, my fingers wanting to shake. All the outside world fell away to the confused and worried murmuring of the council. Seris¡¯ prods to get me to speak didn¡¯t register. My own bond¡¯s increasing horror and disgust washed past my head.


    On each of the photos were simple scribbles. North of Mirror Lake. 5,753 dead. Another photo. West of Greengate. 6,413 dead. Another photo. East of Kalberk Forest. 3,874 dead.


    I cycled through the half-dozen photos in a near-trembling horror as the implications reached me. People had been massacred. Citizens. Men, women, children. Torn apart as if they were cattle, and¨C


    The final paper wasn¡¯t a photo, but a note. And as my eyes caught on each of the letters, my leash on my intent finally broke. Power finally billowed out from me, causing the air to ripple and warp. Distantly, I was aware that people were grasping at their throats and crying out in horror as they struggled to breathe.


    But I didn¡¯t care. And in turn with my outflow of emotions, Aurora felt a swell of astonishment, surprise, and uncertainty.


    There was a single line, written in bold and graceful font. It rebounded through my skull like a gong, the words echoing in my mind.


    Behold the outcome of meddling with time.


    And beneath it was a diagram: a phoenix feather that seemed to glow despite the dark ink as it burned through my skull, and an M.

 Chapter 242: Broken Future

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    ¡°Toren Daen!¡± a voice snapped angrily, cutting through my broken thoughts. The rising of another power¨Cdark and turbulent¨Cforced my mind from its downward spiral.


    My gaze darted from the pictures¨Cfrom the glaring accusation written in ink and blood¨Cto Seris. She was standing now, her face a mask of anger as she stared at me. Her power was spreading through the room, suffusing the air as it pushed back against my intent.


    I didn¡¯t realize it, but my breathing had increased. The pictures in my hands felt heavier than lead as I swallowed, belatedly recognizing that I¡¯d nearly caused the mages in this room to have heart attacks from the outpouring of my aura.


    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I lost control,¡± I said quickly, my gaze darting to Aurora¡¯s shade where it hovered by my side, her sunlit eyes wide with shock, recognition, and a strange sense of hope. ¡°I need to go. To process this.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a question. Seris might technically be my superior, but no command of hers could keep me in this room right now. The cavern felt infinitely more stifling with every second I stayed there.


    Seris, thankfully, seemed to understand. Her expression hardened as she nodded slowly. The many men and dwarves around us gradually pulled themselves back to their wits, more than a few shying away from me in terror, I allowed my thoughts to centralize on something.


    I needed to be under the sky so I could think. So I could process this¨Cprocess what it meant.


    ¡°Is there any other action that needs to be taken, Toren?¡± she asked, a subtle bite in her tone. She said nothing else, only allowing her head to tilt ever-so-slightly to the side.


    Toward Rahdeas.


    She¡¯s asking me if he needs to be accosted, I realized, forcing my hands not to clench around the pictures in my hands. If what he showed me was worth punishment.


    But it wasn¡¯t. Not really. ¡°I''ll be fine. I was shown something disturbing,¡± I said, sending a covert look at Rahdeas, who only smiled lightly in turn. The council was silent as I was allowed to speak. ¡°I need time to sort it out, but it is nothing worth any more action. For now.¡±


    At least not yet. Not until I¡¯d thought it through more. I couldn¡¯t afford to push for actions if I hadn¡¯t given them thought.


    Seris nodded slowly, and from the questioning glance she gave the papers in my hands, I knew she wanted to look at them. But as I strode away from the council table, Aurora following mutely by my side, I didn¡¯t allow her the chance to peek.


    As I stalked through the halls, I was able to rein my emotions in more thoroughly. Anger and horror evened out into more temperate lines of irritation and uncertainty. But still, as I reached an equilibrium of thoughts, I didn¡¯t speak.


    I stepped off the Divot¡¯s landing pad, allowing the ambient mana to carry me toward the cavernous exit of Burim. It was late afternoon now, and the city¡¯s industry was gradually winding down. I spied the many soldiers out and about along the stalactite-bound city, and it was clear that the tension they felt wouldn¡¯t set with the sun.


    I welcomed the sun as I finally exited the massive cavern. Like the brush of an inviting campfire, the joyful yellow dot encouraged me as it gradually dipped lower in the sky.


    I floated over the Bay of Burim for a few minutes, allowing my thoughts to flow and my emotions to settle. I wasn¡¯t quite meditating, but acknowledging all I felt in the wake of the letter. Now, though, I pushed it all aside as I let myself go for a moment.


    Aurora hovered at my side, a contrasting set of emotions radiating over our bond. After all, we both knew who had sent that letter.


    ¡°You said that your brother would eventually contact us when he was ready,¡± I said, staring into the distance as sunlight reflected off the glittering ocean. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be so¡­¡±


    I trailed off, not really having any words to describe it. Accusatory? Sharp? Confrontational?


    ¡°Mordain was always a calm and composed man, Toren,¡± Aurora said beside me, her shade¡¯s hair flowing with the wind. ¡°But he was also one to present the facts as he saw them. He did not shy away from professing his views when he believed it necessary.¡±


    I held up the last slip of paper I¡¯d received, tracing over the words. Behold the outcome of meddling with time. -M. Compounded by the images before it, it sent a message deeper than just presenting the facts.


    ¡°So this is from your brother, then?¡± I said aloud, staring numbly at the emblazoned phoenix feather. ¡°Not some sort of trick or ruse, designed to confuse me or throw me off balance?¡±


    Aurora turned to me slightly, and there was a strange sort of anticipation in her emotions. ¡°No, it is not. It may not be my brother¡¯s handwriting, but these are his words. That is his symbol. And beyond that, Toren¡­ The contents of the message could only bear weight if spoken from the mouth of one with his wisdom.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, looking at the pictures once more. Pictures of brutal massacres and horrendous sacrifice, all stamped with the number of lives lost.


    Mordain Asclepius was one of the precious few asura who showed care for the lessers in this world: care enough to flee Epheotus with his clan, sheltering them all away in the deepest reaches of the Beast Glades, and sheltering what was left of the djinn from the wrathful clutches of Kezess Indrath.


    And because of his care for them, the djinn granted him knowledge. Knowledge few ever learned. Few could learn.


    The patriarch of the Asclepius Clan was indeed wise. But he was also a seer¨Ca man who could peer into the weaves of aether that made the foundations of this world, and in turn divine some measure of the future.


    And with that context¨Cthe context that I had immediately grasped when I cycled through these photos for the first time¨CI knew what it was meant to do. Because I¡¯d been meddling with the timeline, hadn¡¯t I? I¡¯d been pushing for a better future.


    The implications of the letter were not lost on me. By healing Tessia Eralith, by sparing Seth Milview, or whatever hundred other actions I¡¯d taken, Mordain accused me of these massacres. He laid the price of these poor, innocent souls at my feet.


    I knew that massacres like the ones depicted in the photos never occurred in that otherworld novel.


    No, there was no mistaking the accusation scrawled across this paper.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to meet him soon, then,¡± I said with a sigh, tracing the horizon as a solemn resolve settled in my stomach. ¡°It¡¯s far from the worst invitation I¡¯ve ever received,¡± I said without humor, thinking of a letter Mardeth had sent me long ago.


    Aurora, for her part, felt far less pensive than I. ¡°It will be good for you, Toren,¡± she said, her voice uncharacteristically light. ¡°You will meet your family at last. The Asclepius will welcome you with open arms, I am certain. It will be good for you to meet your clan members.¡±


    I felt a slight smile stretch across my face at the thought, but it was dampened by the words on the page. The idea that I was somehow responsible for the tens of thousands of souls lost in some sort of massacre darkened any sort of hope I could feel. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Because that did open up more possibilities. If Agrona was playing so casually with the lives of Dicathians, then that showed a significant change in what I expected of his modus operandi.


    I took a deep breath, allowing the fear I felt at that name to simmer through my system. I acknowledged it as I traced the logical paths of these massacres.


    In canon, Agrona refrained from targeting civilians and the average Dicathian intentionally. He even made the point to Arthur explicitly, if I recalled correctly. He used it as leverage to convince Arthur to switch sides in the war.


    I felt my brow furrow as my brain worked toward an unnerving conclusion. If Agrona was massacring Dicathians¨CI took a deep breath, centering my emotions as I registered that thought¨Cthen that meant the High Sovereign wasn¡¯t holding back in this war anymore for the sake of recruiting Arthur.


    All that I¡¯d seen so far slotted into place around this. The introduction of Viessa and the two retainers. The increased presence of Alacryan troops on this continent.


    I squeezed my eyes shut as the realization coursed through me. Agrona wasn¡¯t going to pull his punches with the innocent anymore. No, he was intentionally laying out these massacres. To instill terror, maybe? To mock the Dicathians?


    I felt as Aurora¡¯s mood dipped lower as well, my morose and troubled thoughts affecting her in turn. Thoughts of family, reuniting, and a hopeful future bled away as the grim reality settled in. ¡°Your insights bear weight, my son,¡± she thought sadly, her blowing hair slowing. ¡°I am sorry. I did not consider this aspect of my brother¡¯s message.¡±


    It is okay, Aurora, I thought sadly. I have always been asking myself if the events I prevent push this world towards a better future, or if I only send those I care for toward the jaws of oblivion.


    I asked myself every night. I¡¯d vowed to make this world better. In the wake of Greahd¡¯s murder at Agrona¡¯s hands, I couldn¡¯t pretend anymore. I couldn¡¯t pretend that I didn¡¯t have a duty to those I loved to try and stop the tyrant that prodded us all like pawns.


    On some level, there would always be innocent life lost. It was my duty to try and minimize it, trapped as I was between two impossibilities.


    Even if acknowledging it made part of me crack, I¡¯d long since prepared my hands for the blood that would stain them. That was what drove me through the assault on Burim. It was what pushed me through as I ended Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn¡¯s lives. What made me fight Arthur Leywin after I healed Tessia Eralith.


    I remembered, not long ago, when a spar between Cylrit and I had nearly ended in my death. I¡¯d hesitated at the brink of duty, fearing the crimson that would stain my hands. But I¡¯d realized it, then. I couldn¡¯t hesitate at every crossroad. I couldn¡¯t second-guess and doubt my every action.


    In that direction laid madness.


    My hands clenched around the papers in my hands, and a slow, smoldering fire grew across the papers as I settled my emotions. Those tens of thousands of lives¡­ I didn¡¯t know if their blood was on my hands, or if I was to blame for what had happened. What would happen.


    I¡¯ll talk to you, Mordain, I thought, and I¡¯ll show you how you are wrong.


    Part of me wondered how Elder Rahdeas had any sort of contact with Mordain. Another part of me didn¡¯t particularly care. If Mordain was hoping to dissuade my actions, to shame me somehow, he only did the opposite.


    The fact that Agrona was so ready to massacre thousands only proved why his throat needed to be slit.


    ¡°My brother is a wise man, Toren,¡± Aurora said slowly as I settled myself. ¡°I will have words with him for how he has pushed you today, but I cannot imagine his motives being anything but just.¡±


    You know him better than I do, Aurora, I thought back. But I hope we can work something out.


    And as I sensed the attention of a familiar person on me, I allowed myself to push these thoughts away for now. I would have to revisit them, and soon. But for right now? Right now, I needed to remind myself of the good I had done. Of the positive impacts I¡¯d had on this world¨Cnot just the negative ones.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    On the docks far below, a familiar couple stood, mostly shadowed from the light. A dark-skinned man was pointing up toward me, saying something in hushed whispers to the woman at his side. Her hands shook slightly, but not from fear. My eyebrows rose as I recognized them.


    I slowly lowered in the air, approaching the couple. I couldn¡¯t sense any intent from the young woman¨Cshe was clearly a nonmage¨Cbut I could hear as her heartbeat spiked with worry. Her hands fidgeted nervously with the folds of her dress as I finally tapped down on the pier not far away.


    Lusul Hercross calmly worked to explain something to his Dicathian lover, gesturing animatedly to me as I slowly approached. The shy girl¡¯s blue eyes averted from mine as she sought comfort in the dark-skinned Named Blood¡¯s arms, clearly fearful at my approach.


    I slowed slightly as I neared, not wanting to make the young girl any more afraid. ¡°Hello there, Lusul,¡± I said, smiling slightly as I saw him turn toward me. His almost-pink eyes were calm now. Far, far calmer than when I¡¯d confronted him regarding his illicit affair before. ¡°Am I okay to approach? I don¡¯t want to interrupt the moment.¡±


    Lusul shared a look with his curly-haired lover¨CI¡¯d never learned her name¨Csome silent communication occurring between them. Finally, he nodded. ¡°We¡¯re good, Toren,¡± he said. ¡°Anasia was just surprised to see someone flying over the bay. That¡¯s not normal, you know.¡±


    I snorted slightly as I approached. ¡°Sorry about that. I had something I needed to ponder, and I¡¯ve always thought best beneath the open sky.¡± I shook my head, dismissing those dark thoughts. ¡°How goes your training? Any progress?¡±


    These past few weeks, I¡¯d done my best to instruct Lusul Hercross in the art of my intent-based music. It was there that my talent for the art was truly revealed, because despite Lusul¡¯s constant efforts, he struggled at the first step.


    The dark-skinned orchestra member sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck,¡± he admitted, a slump to his shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t understand how I¡¯m supposed to feel at ¡®intent,¡¯ Toren. It¡¯s just all gray. I know you¡¯ve told me that there¡¯s more to it, but I¡¯m struggling to find it.¡±


    I nodded slowly. Before I even started showing the man how to effectively manipulate his own mana signature, I¡¯d started by telling him of the intricacies of mana signatures and intent¨Cbut he hadn¡¯t been able to grasp it as instinctively as I. It was a unique experience for me, too, trying to put into words what I¡¯d first grasped by happenstance.


    Lusul''s lover¨Cwhose calloused hands still fidgeted with her curly, nut-brown hair¨Clooked between us with wide eyes. ¡°So you really weren¡¯t lying,¡± she said, her voice deeper than I expected. ¡°I thought you were pulling my leg again, saying that you knew Spellsong.¡±


    The young Hercross man¡¯s brows rose slightly as he stared down at Anasia. ¡°I told you that he¡¯s my direct superior,¡± he said, sounding confused. ¡°Why would I lie about that?¡±


    Anasia visibly deflated as she turned away from Lusul. ¡°You said that in Alacrya, you ate¡­ that you ate bugs every day. Giant centipedes.¡± She shivered slightly despite the spring breeze. ¡°And I believed you!¡±


    Lusul cringed, immediately going into damage control mode. ¡°I was teasing you, okay?¡± he said, trying to get the curly-haired young woman to look at him again. ¡°Maybe that was a joke, but I¡¯ll never lie to you. I promise!¡±


    Anasia smiled slightly as she heard the words, clearly contented with herself. ¡°You say you promise?¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Lusul said stalwartly, both seeming to forget I was watching with a bemused expression. ¡°I¡¯m a man of Blood Hercross, and Blood Hercross would never go back on their words.¡±


    I watched fondly as the two exchanged a few more words, falling into their own little world as they became engrossed with each other.


    They¡¯re good for each other, I thought. Though it would be nice if they remembered I was here.


    That thought was immediately cut off by Aurora¡¯s laughter as it echoed over our bond. I turned to the side, feeling surprise wash through my system as I watched the asuran shade laugh loudly. I blinked, shocked that she could laugh so purely.


    ¡°That may be the greatest thing I have ever heard you say, my son,¡± Aurora said as she finally cooled down, her boisterous laughter becoming a few chuckles instead. ¡°Imagine for a moment that the two across from you are a certain Ascender and Sorceress, and you shall find the amusement I do.¡±


    I felt my face grow hot as I found more embarrassment than amusement. She made a really valid point.


    Score one to Aurora. Toren at zero, I thought sardonically as I allowed the two across from me to finish their little conversation.


    ¡°I think I should probably leave,¡± I said, interrupting the two for a moment. ¡°You two seem to have everything handled here.¡±


    I turned around, ready to surge back into the sky, when Anasia¡¯s voice echoed out. ¡°Wait, Spellsong,¡± she said, her heartbeat telling me she was more than nervous.


    I turned back slowly as she stepped forward, a strange sort of determination in her aquamarine eyes as she stared at me with steel in her bones. ¡°Lus told me that your Sovereigns don¡¯t allow this. That they¡¯re supposed to keep their blood pure, or something. Like the Houses with their magic lineages. Or how people are in the Undercroft.¡± Her eyes darted to Lusul¡¯s, and I could feel a bit of his uncertainty rise at whatever she was about to ask. ¡°Lus said that you¡­ well, you found us. After he played his music. Your music. Your song, but his music,¡± she corrected nervously, her hands fidgeting with her dress.


    ¡°I don¡¯t punish questions,¡± I said slowly, sensing the young woman¡¯s nervousness as she inched instinctively closer to her lover. ¡°You¡¯re safe to ask me whatever you need.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you¡­ well, stop it?¡± she finally pushed out, her eyes imploring. ¡°They say you¡¯re the Scythe¡¯s lover. That you¡¯ve got control of all the dwarves in Burim. You could blink, and I¡¯d never see Lus again.¡±


    I felt my expression soften as I stared at the nervous girl. Lusul himself tensed as the question that had loomed between us was finally asked, his nervous eyes flicking to me.


    And then I slipped away from the slight happiness I¡¯d experienced earlier, toward something serious and resolved. ¡°The High Sovereign is far from these shores, Lady Anasia,¡± I said with a slight bow of respect. ¡°And we all must find our happiness. We all must find what brings us fulfillment, even if those above us detest it. There are things worth braving the deepest soulfire for, if you¡¯ve found them.¡±


    I gave Lusul a knowing look. He swallowed slightly, before looking away as he radiated quiet gratitude. I didn¡¯t give the two a chance to respond. I lifted into the air, feeling more myself than I had in a long time.


    ¡ª


    The meeting, apparently, was going on far longer than expected. I didn¡¯t feel comfortable returning, especially not after the atrocious way I¡¯d handled myself in front of those present. I¡¯d allowed myself to lose my grip on my emotions, and that was far from my best moment.


    I¡¯ll need to talk to both Seris and Rahdeas later. Seris needs to know what measures we can take if the Hearth is factored into the equation. And I need to know how Rahdeas received a message from Mordain, I thought.


    ¡°My brother¡¯s magics are great and powerful,¡± Aurora thought as I sat cross-legged on my bed. ¡°Among our clan, his abilities were the only ones to eclipse my own. If he wished to contact you more directly, I have no doubt he could. But I suspect there is a deeper motive beneath utilizing the dwarven elder as a messenger.¡±


    I acknowledged that as I slowly settled my emotions. So much to do and so little time.


    Is there an aether art, I wondered distantly as I closed my eyes, that could allow me to bend aevum so I may have the time for all I needed to do?


    Those fanciful thoughts and more drifted across my mind, before I finally pulled everything inward. I allowed my very consciousness itself to become a singularity as I followed the path of my beating heart, the lifeforce pervasive and all-encompassing as it led me through unseen paths.


    I opened my eyes, feeling that pervasive sense of peace and wholeness as I emerged within my very soul.


    The Sea of my Soul was vast as always. The reflective mirror lake defied physics as it bounced the all-encompassing sun of Aurora¡¯s light across my body, giving me a supernatural warmth that suffused the deepest reaches of my essence.


    Every time I returned to this ethereal plane, I struggled not to just drift on the eddies of pure concept and thought. The waves of expression and deepest knowledge.


    I inhaled, then exhaled deeply. The water around me rippled in response to my movement, the small waves of water traveling supernaturally far as if there were no air resistance to equalize their flow.


    It wasn¡¯t often that I truly believed something to be magical. To me, everything that my earthen self would have deemed supernatural was just a sideways kind of normal to me now. But as I soaked in the endless void and contrasting sunlit sky on either end of my soul, I felt I was truly witnessing something beyond nature. Beyond sensation. Beyond science. Beyond mortality.


    But I couldn¡¯t let myself drift away.


    ¡°It is a beautiful place,¡± Aurora said beside me, her eyes¨Ceyes no longer backlit by a sun as I gazed at her soul¨Cwrinkling in contentment. Except it wasn¡¯t really speech. I heard it more as a conveyance of deepest concepts.


    I chuckled lightly. In this soulspace, speech was such an inadequate form of communication. Even¡­ paltry. Even as I heard Aurora¡¯s words, ideas and emotions and the entire intent of my bond¡¯s essence washed over me like calming fire.


    Indeed. With speech, you couldn¡¯t comprehend the deepest inflections of sensation. Or the subtle dips and weaves of ephemeral care. Nor could you divine the deepest underlying passion from each shift in sound.


    But I wasn¡¯t here to bask in my bond¡¯s light, or the closeness of our souls. I was here to learn.


    I¡¯d made a plan before I¡¯d entered soulspace this time. I remembered the first ever time I¡¯d caught a glimpse of this place, way back when I¡¯d first formed my bond with Aurora. The flashes of insight as parts of Toren and the me from earth intertwined, becoming more than the sum of our parts.


    I stared down at the reflective lake, my expression thoughtful. I remembered swimming on eddies of thought, all the little bits that made me whole coalescing under the forging iron of Aurora¡¯s soul. The violin, the computer, The Beginning After the End¡­


    Souls were great, immeasurable things. But I knew the depths of my own. How else could I have reached this place of my own volition? So I acted on a hunch.


    I focused on a concept. On an idea. Driven by both instinct and preformed ideas, I grasped it.


    I thought of sound. Not just sound, but music. And all the concepts and things connected to it. Community, emotion, fulfillment of self. I remembered the first time I¡¯d played my violin. My first use of intent-based music as I professed my desire for companionship and understanding to the men and women of East Fiachra.


    And further on. The concerts I¡¯d played for the upper echelons of Alacrya. The journey my music had taken me through this strange, wonderful, and horrible world I called home.


    My soul shifted, the very space around me twisting as if by a magnet. Little eddies of water rose as they circled me, pulled inward by an invisible hand. In each bit of water, I could divine something of myself.


    As I thought of my music, parts of my soul resonated in turn. They gravitated inward like moths drawn to a flame, each floating sphere of water seeming to twist and warp in my mind¡¯s eye.


    If I stared long at the water, I would see memories. Of all the parts of me that was drawn to the very concept of music.


    Souls gravitate toward what they know, I thought, watching as the water of memories flowed around me. Each drop of purest liquid seemed to carry the weight of emotion as a small tide gradually built around me. They are drawn to what they understand.


    There was a push here. A push and a pull, just like my telekinesis. A natural back and forth, as the moon drew on the tides. But even those analogies fell apart.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly something I could truly put into words, but I understood.


    ¡°In my previous life, people were fond of saying that music was a pathway to the soul,¡± I said aloud, my voice resonating. I clenched my fist, watching as the water gradually returned to the endless mirror as I let the concept leave my immediate thoughts. ¡°I do not know if they understood the gravity of their words.¡±


    At my side, Aurora chuckled lightly. ¡°Surely not, my son,¡± she said. ¡°But I also wonder how many value the miracle of sound as deeply as you.¡±


    I hummed. She was right, after all. I doubted many others would experience such a communion of essence from the concept of music, but this was my soul.


    For the next length of time¨Cit was hard to determine the flow of time here¨CI cycled through a few ideas and concepts, watching how my soul reacted. Flight. Fire. Healing. Companionship.


    My flow of consciousness slowed as I reached that concept. Because there was something else I could use to try out the effect.


    I turned to the side, staring into the void where distant souls waited. My eyes focused on the shadowed moon of Seris¡¯ soul. And before I even tried, I knew the truth.


    Souls gravitated towards concepts. Ideas. But beyond all that, souls gravitated toward other souls.


    My eyes widened as the insight settled through me. I remembered the last time I¡¯d entered this place, as I¡¯d reached an arm out to the haunting outline of Seris¡¯ soul. Of how my very essence seemed to rise to meet hers.


    ¡°Anchors,¡± I said lowly, turning to stare at Aurora¡¯s sun-bright soul. ¡°That is what they are. The souls that we hold closest, most dear. The ones with the greatest pull on our destiny.¡±


    Aurora watched from the sidelines, smiling fondly as I gradually discovered more and more. I could feel over our bond¨Ceven more prevalent here¨Cher emotions. I could almost see myself as a chick venturing beyond the safety of the nest. Testing my wings. Pushing my limits.


    I stared up at the void of endless black beyond the waterfall of my soul. I can sense my Anchors, I thought. Can I see others?


    With a flex of intent, the entire world shifted. Like the great model observatories of my past life, the very space warped and moved as more souls appeared before my sight. Naereni. Sevren. Caera.


    Indeed, if I focused, I thought I could sense it. Sense how these souls influenced each other in tiny ways, pushing and pulling on each other.


    These people I know the closest, I thought, waving my hand as I prepared to shift my vision toward the next group, are they all¨C


    The next few souls came into sight. Arthur Leywin¡¯s¨Cthe crown of family and steel. The cracks along its surface had widened, and the Grey light seeped through despite the efforts of all the other influences that tried to press it inward. The tapestry of memories was fracturing as the seeping nothingness tried to push past those splinters.


    The opal egg¨CSylvie¨Cclung desperately to Arthur¡¯s soul. But despite that, I found my widening eyes focusing on the silver-blossomed vine of duty and desire. The last time I¡¯d seen it, it had been probing and pressing at Arthur¡¯s fractured soul, layering memories like surgical twine over every chasm in his steel-forged soul, suturing them shut.


    But no longer. I watched with horror as the silver vine withered, despair and hopelessness condemning it to darkness.

 Chapter 243: A Princess Duty

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    ¡°Send thirty measures to Blackbend along the teleportation routes,¡± I said evenly as I directed the supply manager. ¡°We were conservative with our stores this winter, so we have some remaining stockpile that can be pushed toward those in need.¡±


    The officiant¨Can older elven woman with a pad of paper and a nervous expression¨Cnodded swiftly. ¡°Of course, Princess,¡± she said, bowing slightly. ¡°There would still be overstock left, though¨Canother thirty measures of grain. What should be done with that?¡±


    I was currently in one of the Zestier Palace¡¯s more ornate rooms, meeting with my advisors and ensuring operations across the city flowed smoothly. Half a dozen other elves waited to present their issues or request authority for actions.


    Sometimes it was something petty, like a dispute between elven nobles. But most of the time, every matter brought before me was a truly pressing issue. One that I was astounded managed to wait for so long.


    Zestier had run for centuries as the center of elven rule and power¨Cand in the last few years, all of that had suddenly changed. I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised that people didn¡¯t know how to act efficiently without the regular input of the royal family.


    I furrowed my brows as I leaned forward over the table, my long hair of deep silver flashing in the late afternoon light. ¡°Leave at least five measures in reserves,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Dedicate another fifteen to the relief efforts in Sapin. With the attacks of mana beasts ravaging their countryside, people aren¡¯t able to plant their crops or sow their seeds. They¡¯ll be aching when winter next comes.¡±


    The officiant nodded, scribbling down my orders before evacuating from the room. I allowed myself to deflate slightly as the majority of the tasks were tended to. My regal poise slipped toward something more casual as I traced my fingers across my dress in thought.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly a battledress. That would be improper for a princess of Elshire to wear in the depths of her court. All that would tell my nobles was that I was ready for battle alone, but not diplomacy.


    But it was close. The deep green folds and silks allowed me freedom of movement and mobility in case anything ever did come to a battle. My arms were bare of long, trailing weaves of cloth, and the skirt was relatively short¨Conly reaching my knees.


    It allowed me to feel a bit more in control.


    I felt a wave of ¡°green¡±and ¡°happy¡±from my Beast Will, her mind catching on the slight downturn of my mood. She didn¡¯t truly understand the intricacies of my thoughts, but like a child who knows something is wrong with their parent, she did everything she could to try and make me feel ¡°better¡± again.


    Thank you, I thought back as that cleansing energy flooded across my mana channels. I needed that.


    I ran through the motions as I directed and sent out more orders, leveraging my position as Princess of Elshire to the best of my abilities. My resolve returned as I helped coordinate a shipment of elven salves and ointments imbued with nature magic.


    Yet as I watched the final attendant go¨Can elf who was barely older than I¨CI felt my restlessness return.


    News of the massacres across Sapin had rocked the continent. The brutality of them, the wantonness of blood spilled¡­ When I¡¯d heard of them, I¡¯d nearly tried to escape again, to try and find a battle where I could make a difference.


    But then the reports kept coming in. Tens of thousands dead, at least, all across the countryside. And even still, the attacks appeared at random¨Chordes of corrupted mana beasts phasing into existence in defiance of reason. And as I read reports of how the Lances were spread thin, darting across the continent like busybody housewives trying to stamp out uncountable fires, I¡¯d realized something.


    Even if I somehow managed to escape, what would I even be able to do?


    I stared mutely at the table, tracing the elegant curves of Elshire wood as they made the ornate piece. Everything in Zestier was old beyond all ken. Pictures and tables and instruments crafted generations before I was ever born made the place feel ethereally ancient.


    There was a severed knot of wood near the center of the mana-laden table. I stared at it, allowing myself to think.


    I couldn¡¯t do anything, I thought for the dozenth time, partially to my Elderwood Guardian Will. Even if I somehow managed to reach the battlefields, I¡¯d be useless. Just another dot fighting against a tide.


    She sent back waves of encouragement, not really understanding. But that was okay.


    I pressed away from the table, feeling that urge to move again. It came every day as the late afternoon drew close¨Ca remnant of my habits among the Trailblazer Division. Late afternoon was when we either geared up for an assault or settled in for camp. That meant washing duties, cooking, and firewood gathering. My body ached for a phantom past. For something that would keep me moving.


    It¡¯s not that I¡¯m weak, I thought to my Will, striding away from the table as I exhaled through my nose. I flowed with casual grace and poise as I walked the halls of Zestier. But even Arthur¨CGrey, whoever he is¨Che can¡¯t do all of it alone, either. Even despite the Lances, the attacks continue. That¡¯s what made me think of how I could make a difference. Actually make one.


    And I¡¯d found a place I could be. I was a princess, even if my parents had renounced their titles. And as the weeks drew long in Zestier, I¡¯d picked up on the lack of management. The subtle failures and inefficiencies in the vacuum left as my parents shifted their operations to the flying castle.


    When I¡¯d first started pushing for people to act and organize, I¡¯d received the same treatment as when I first entered the Trailblazer Division. Subtle pushes for me to just stay on the sidelines. They tried to treat me as a glass sculpture. One that they were fearful to even nudge for fear of it falling over and shattering into a million reflective pieces.


    I maintained my poise as I made my way through Zestier¡¯s palace hallways like the wind itself. I kept my hands clasped simply in front of my stomach in the traditional style. Always regal. Always sharp and elegant.


    That stopped eventually, though, I thought as I finally entered the gardens. I just had to keep it up. Wear down their reservations.


    I relaxed slightly as I watched the mist of Elshire Forest ebb and flow throughout the gardens. The shoreblossoms were at the height of their beauty, the plants rising higher and higher as their blue petals reflected dewdrops like the edge of a knife. Half a dozen different exotic plants from all over Elenoir glowed with innumerable shades.


    I stared past the walls, though, remembering my last futile escape attempt.


    Where do you think Aya is? I asked my Beast Will. Probably along the southern front. The Alacryans have been pushing into Elshire at greater rates lately, but they¡¯re still stopped by the mist. She¡¯s probably cutting off anyone she can.


    Can can can, the Elderwood Guardian thought helpfully. Mist mist mist.


    I sighed. I know I could probably escape, I thought, pretending that my Will¡¯s response was something more concrete. Without Aya guarding me and with you helping me increase my abilities so much, I could probably sneak all the way to the border without anyone detecting me. Don¡¯t you think? That wouldn¡¯t be too bad.


    My Elderwood Guardian Will shifted slightly. Bad bad bad,


    radiated from my core. Stay stay stay.


    I groaned. I know, I know, I thought. I should stay here. Do what I can to help and organize everyone. I¡¯ve been able to help troop deployment and everything too, so maybe there¡¯s actually going to be a change. But the thought of people dying out there¡­ Dying in pain for my country, without me by their side¡­


    Pain pain pain, echoed back. Side side side.


    I chuckled as my Elderwood Guardian tried her best to comfort and soothe me. I didn¡¯t really have anyone to talk to here. Hadn¡¯t for weeks. And I¡¯d eventually just started talking to my Will whenever I had the chance. And she always listened, even if she didn¡¯t understand.


    Are Sylvie and Art always like this? I asked. You know. Talking and all that. He said he had a bond with her or whatever. But is it like this? I feel like you¡¯re unique. Different from any other Beast Will.


    Different different different, I got back. Feel feel feel.


    I watched as the mist eddied and swirled, resisting the urge to delve into my Beast Will and engage in the training exercises Aya had assigned to me before she vanished, as she had a tendency to do. You know, I need to give you a name. Calling you ¡°Elderwood Guardian Will¡± gets pretty old.


    Old old old, she felt back, echoing my thoughts as a child mimics their parents. Will will will.


    Will isn¡¯t a good name for you, I thought back. You are a Beast Will, but you¡¯re more than that.


    Will will will, she felt adamantly. Will will will.


    I crossed my arms, my brow furrowing as I watched a shiversparrow alight on one of the towering branches far above. Willow, I finally thought. That¡¯s your name. Willow. It fits, don¡¯t you think?


    Willow willow willow, Willow echoed¨Cand I thought I felt contentment there. Acknowledgment.


    I felt a grin splitting my face as I reached that decision. The mist seemed to gravitate toward me, its wispy fingers coolly caressing my skin. I closed my eyes, shuddering slightly at the cold touch. I basked in the ensorcelling sensation for a time, the late afternoon sun casting strange shadows through the pervasive shroud of fog that always blanketed Elshire like a drifting blanket.


    And so I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise as I heard a familiar voice speak behind me.


    ¡°You know, I heard word from Lance Phantasm,¡± Grandpa said, ¡°but seeing it is something else, little one. The mists of the forest bending to your whims themselves.¡±


    I turned in surprise, noting two new figures as they walked into the gardens. On footsteps so soft I couldn¡¯t hear them, Grandpa walked with the assured confidence of Dicathen¡¯s Commander. Even though he looked older and there was a constant weariness that seemed to seep from his pores¨Cmade even more evident from how long I¡¯d known him¨CI could see how he kept himself strong, using the expectations of others as anchors.


    Beside my Grandpa, Mom strode with the flowing grace of the Eraliths. In every simple gesture and shift of her gown, I saw the sad attempts I made of imitation. She was perfect poise, even as she smiled with a kindness that I cherished.


    The mist retreated from me in a whirl, evaporating back into the trees as my concentration faltered. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks as my thoughts spun uselessly.


    ¡°Hi, Grandpa. Mom,¡± I said weakly, looking between the two. ¡°When did you get here?¡±


    In truth, I¡¯d been expecting a visit from Grandpa sometime soon. He¡¯d been very busy with his Council duties, and I¡¯d sent him a lot of messages at first. Mostly mean ones, filled with anger and hurt at being sent away and locked up in a cage again. But the most recent message I¡¯d sent was far more¡­ thought out.


    ¡°Barely a moment ago, honey,¡± Mom said, a twinkle in her eye. ¡°It was so interesting that I just had to watch. Has Aya been teaching you? You didn¡¯t have an affinity for water before this. How are you able to do it?¡±


    I nervously tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, feeling my trepidation rise as I thought of the reason I¡¯d called Grandpa in the first place. ¡°Well, since the¡­ incident, my Beast Will changed. I¡¯m able to feel everything around me, and the mist reacts to my emotions when I¡¯m not careful.¡±


    Mom¡¯s face fell slightly at the incident, and Grandpa¡¯s expression became more grave. Mom walked forward, wrapping me in a hug as she ruffled my hair. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that happened, sweetie,¡° she said consolingly. Pityingly. ¡°But you¡¯re doing better now, right?¡±


    I restrained a burst of irrational anger at how Mom fussed over me. I pushed her away as gently as I could manage, ironing out my features as I stared up at her. ¡°I was a soldier, Mom,¡± I said sharply¨Cmaybe too sharply. ¡°I was always at risk of being injured. I was ready for that from the start.¡±


    Granted, I hadn¡¯t told Mom about the corruption in my core¨Cnot like I¡¯d told Grandpa. I wondered if she¡¯d treat me differently if she¡¯d known.


    Mom¡¯s silver brows shifted slightly. ¡°I know, Tessia,¡± she said somberly. ¡°I know. That doesn¡¯t stop us from worrying.¡±


    I sighed, just letting her words wash over and through me. I struggled to blame Mom for her vote at the Council. After I¡¯d been attacked by Spellsong, it was her vote¨Calong with a nearly unanimous decision from the rest of Dicathen¡¯s leaders¨Cthat decided I would be sent back to Zestier. Like a bird in a cage.


    Only the old human king, Blaine Glayder, had voted against my retrieval. I¡¯d have to ask him why someday.


    But Mom¡­ Mom had always been like this. Worrying over me and fussing at every speck of dirt. She¡¯d never wanted me to enter the war in the first place, so it didn¡¯t hurt as much when she pushed for my removal.


    But Grandpa¡­


    I shared a look with the old elf, feeling a complicated mix of anger, regret, and determination as I tried to figure out my thoughts. I almost imagined that the forest itself was still for a time as I tried to work out what I needed to say.


    Mom sensed the air between us, of course. She backed away, brushing at her dress as she sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll have to come back and catch up later, Tessia,¡± she said, regal as ever. ¡°There¡¯s always a need for the councilmembers to show their faces around, and we recently got a call that it would be good for one of us to officiate the opening of a new statehouse. To show the people that we¡¯re still listening to them.¡±


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I sighed, feeling my nerves settle slightly. ¡°Zestier isn¡¯t nearly as stable as I thought it was,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been working to help our commanders with troop positioning, distributing supplies, and maintaining what economy I can. But they feel the lack of your presence, Mom. It¡¯s good you¡¯re here.¡±


    Mom nodded with slow understanding, a change coming over her expression as she seemed to see me for the first time. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon, Tessia,¡± she finally said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve found something to do, here.¡±


    I watched her go, feeling a knot in my stomach somehow both cinch tighter and unravel at the same time.


    How is that even possible?


    I asked Willow in irritation. Those are impossibilities. Literally opposites.


    Opposites opposites opposites, Willow echoed back with fervor. How how how. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Grandpa must have seen the troubles on my face. His expression softened slightly as he ruffled my hair. ¡°Come on, little one,¡± he said kindly. ¡°Let¡¯s go for a walk.¡±


    ¡ª


    While the Royal Palace of Zestier was clean¡ªsomething I could never ignore¡ªZestier itself could claim that title no longer. As Grandpa and I strolled down the streets of the city¡ªwhich once felt so wide and expansive as a child¡ªI couldn¡¯t help but feel that they were never big enough.


    All around me, soldiers darted about, carrying supplies and delivering messages. The merchant stalls that normally lined the streets of my childhood now asked for identification with every purchase. This place, which had seemed so mystical to me when I was young, now had an encompassing air of seriousness as pervasive as the mists around us.


    Grandpa walked in front of me, his loose battle robes flowing as he strode with confidence among his people. The elves we saw bowed with respect as we passed, vibrant salutes and calls of ¡°Commander!¡± and ¡°Princess!¡± echoing out. And whenever Virion nodded back, they stood a little straighter. Gained a little more strength.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I have not been to visit,¡± Grandpa finally said, watching as a little girl ran through the streets after her mother. ¡°I know I should have, little one. But between my Council duties and¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I said quickly, cutting him off and feeling a flush of embarrassment. I¡¯d sent a lot of messages to Grandpa when I¡¯d first been interned in Zestier. Most of them¡­ not so nice. It was understandable that he wouldn¡¯t want to see me until more recently. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been busy. And with all that¡¯s going on in Sapin¡­¡±


    I trailed off, feeling a lump build in the back of my throat as I thought of the massacres.


    Hordes of beasts appearing from nowhere, with some S- and AA-class beasts ravaging the countryside¡­ How did you even fight that? How did you even protect the people if you never knew where the attacks would come from? Or when?


    Grandpa¡¯s expression was grave as he slowed in his walk, and I could see the way his shoulders wanted to slump. How he wanted to rub his aged face with his hands. The wrinkles across his brow suddenly seemed deeper than the greatest chasms in Darv as he sighed.


    ¡°The attacks are sporadic, Tessia,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no discernible pattern to them. But Arthur has been able to notice some specifics about the corrupted beasts and the strange transportation methods they used. In the meantime, the Council has ordered as many people in scattered cities and towns to congregate toward populous places like Blackbend, Etistin, and Valden. We won¡¯t let Agrona assault our people without due recourse.¡±


    I was silent for a while as we walked, thinking about it all. ¡°Fewer places to protect,¡± I finally said, forcing myself to look at it from a militaristic standpoint and not mourn for the losses. ¡°The Lances are stretched thin across Sapin searching for these attacks. They can¡¯t be everywhere at once.¡±


    I can¡¯t be everywhere at once, I thought sadly. Even if I managed to enter this war once more, I could do nothing to help those people.


    ¡°He¡¯s trying to break us, Tessia,¡± Grandpa said, stopping and turning to me. ¡°Agrona Vritra. The High Sovereign. Lord of the Basilisks.¡± His aged eyes misted over as they absorbed Zestier around us. ¡°The elves here in Zestier were more prepared for this war. Nearly every soul living in the forest remembers the horrors of our wars with Sapin. We all know the pain of loss and the horrors of death. But the humans, with their short lifetimes? They aren¡¯t prepared to take such blows. Agrona wants them terrified, little one. He wants us to cower and shake when he waves a stick. It¡¯s all terror tactics.¡±


    Grandpa settled his hands on my shoulders, serious as he looked me in the eyes. I matched his gaze, instinctively puffing out my chest and squaring my stance. ¡°It is our duty as the leaders of this continent to ensure that our people do not break. The humans are facing the most dire catastrophe they¡¯ve seen in centuries, and it is our job to see that they do not crumble and fall from the weight.¡±


    I nodded, my expression determined. ¡°I know, Grandpa. I¡¯ve never stopped trying to help. Even here in Zestier, I¡¯ve been coordinating relief efforts as best I could. I¡¯ve seen the horrors of war, and I won¡¯t let them break us.¡±


    I remembered Spellsong¡¯s parting words. Words about how Agrona didn¡¯t even care about the lives he severed, because it was all for something different. For a Legacy and Anchors.


    Agrona doesn¡¯t care about all the damage he leaves in his wake, I thought, feeling resolve thrum from my core. He thinks the war itself inconsequential. It¡¯s our duty to prove a god wrong.


    Grandpa¡¯s hands squeezed on my shoulder. ¡°Good, Tessia,¡± he said seriously. ¡°I knew that sending you here was¡­ far from your wishes. But I am glad you have found purpose regardless.¡±


    And then I felt a bit of heat work up in my face as I remembered why I¡¯d called Grandpa here in the first place.


    ¡°Grandpa,¡± I started, ¡°you¡¯re right about that. I¡¯ve found a purpose here, yeah. But I didn¡¯t see it at first.¡±


    I looked over the churning streets of Zestier, watching as elves worked to better the whole. Even the lowest merchant did their part to uplift everyone, despite their constraints. Every attendant in the Palace. Every laborer who sowed wheat and food for our troops was doing their part.


    And if I thought I could only contribute to my continent by fighting, was I not diminishing their efforts? If the only good I believed I could do was draw my blade across the throats of mana beasts, what did that say of all the good people of Dicathen? Of all those who did good without being on the front lines?


    I inhaled sharply, squaring my shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Grandpa,¡± I forced out. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that I was so cruel to you. That I didn¡¯t let myself see it any other way. And I¡­ I forgive you. For sending me away from the front lines.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t able to sit and think when I was part of the Trailblazers. Every moment was constant action or combat or cleanup or something. There was no chance to ruminate or process anything at length, because you needed to have your head in the game if your team was set to hunt an S-class mana beast through the dungeons.


    But I could do nothing but think this past month or so. As I trained my new powers with mist and began to maneuver through the politics of Zestier, I¡¯d been forced to finally face the questions I could dismiss before.


    If Agrona Vritra¡¯s end goal was me¨Cas a Vessel for something I didn¡¯t know or understand¨Cthen I only endangered my people if I recklessly threw myself into combat from some¡­ childish desire to be seen and heard.


    And Grandpa had allowed me to be sent away for the good of the continent. That was what we all wanted. He just could see farther than I did. ¡°I was like a child, wanting to throw things and make noise just to be heard, Grandpa. But I understand why I¡¯m here now. And I¡¯m sorry I was so mean to you.¡±


    As I struggled to force the words out, Grandpa¡¯s knowing eyes melted. He cut me off, wrapping me in a hug right in the middle of the street. He ruffled my hair as I struggled not to lose my princessly poise.


    He was so strong, even with all the weight of the continent on his shoulders. I sniffled slightly as I hugged him back, not caring for the moment what everyone would think if they saw me.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, little one,¡± Grandpa said softly, his slightly raspy voice low as he held me. ¡°And I know what I promised you. I promised you could fight in this war, and I broke that promise. I didn¡¯t fight against the Council when they ruled for your dismissal. And perhaps I should have, but I¡­¡±


    He separated from me, looking me up and down. ¡°You¡¯re growing to be a strong young woman, Tessia. I¡¯ve always tried to keep myself tall. For this continent, for the Lances, and you. I¡¯ve been walking forward for so long that it¡¯s hard to remember that I stumble sometimes.¡±


    I chuckled lightly, my face heating from his words. ¡°You know, it¡¯s strange. The last time I was here, on this street, it was with Art.¡± I sniffled, thinking of days long past. ¡°When Feyrith challenged him to a duel. That really ended poorly.¡±


    To my surprise, my grandpa threw back his head, laughing sharply. ¡°Ah, yes. I do remember that. That was perhaps the greatest thing I had seen in a decade. The poor Ivsaar boy didn¡¯t even realize what had happened until Art pulled you halfway back to the castle!¡±


    I was about to laugh in turn, but then my eyes narrowed. ¡°But you weren¡¯t there,¡± I said pointedly, looking at my grandfather in suspicion. ¡°You¡¯re laughing like you saw it, but I know it was only us two.¡±


    Grandpa rewarded me with a lewd waggling of his eyebrows. ¡°Please, Tessia. Do you really think I¡¯d let you go out in the streets with a strange boy that you¡¯d just met? I was always watching, even from the sidelines.¡±


    I gasped in shock. ¡°Grandpa, you¨Cyou spied on us?!¡± I said, feeling a growing sense of outrage. ¡°That was supposed to be time for just me and Art! What, did you think Art would get grabby or something?!¡±


    Grandpa scoffed. ¡°No, I had full faith in the boy soon after I¡¯d met him, little one. I just worried for his sanctity with you and your grabbiness. His innocence needed protecting¨C hey, ow!¡±


    I glared up at my grandfather as I pinched his arm, feeling an angry flush radiating across my ears as he teased me. I would never get handsy with Art! How could he even think I would do¨C


    And then I remembered the nights I first met Art¨CGrey, whoever¨Cway back in Elshire, after nearly being abducted by slavers. Of how he¡¯d set up a tent on the ground, and the auburn-haired boy had stated he¡¯d watch from the trees and protect us both during the night.


    And then¡­ And then how I¡¯d insisted he sleep inside the tent¡­ with me¡­ And how Art had only finally done so after I pushed him over and over¡­


    That angry flush turned into a burning rush of embarrassment as I socked Grandpa in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs. He doubled over with a wheezing laugh. I whirled on my feet, feeling steam fly from my ears. I buried my face in my hands, groaning in embarrassment.


    Stupid Grandpa, I thought. Stupid Arthur. Stupid Grey.


    Stupid stupid stupid, Willow echoed in agreement. Grey grey grey.


    Yeah, that was right. It was entirely understandable that I, a small child, would want Art nearby to protect me when it was dark. That made absolute sense.


    I puffed out my shoulders as I turned back around, Grandpa still chuckling as he massaged his stomach where I¡¯d punched him. ¡°You hit harder than ever, little one,¡± he said with clear amusement. ¡°You know, I was joking at first, but considering how adamant your reaction was¨C¡±


    ¡°I never laid a hand on Arthur when we were here in Zestier!¡± I said, a little too loudly. A few of the merchants and soldiers gave us raised brows, and I cringed as Virion¡¯s smirk widened.


    ¡°Then that means you did lay hands on him outside of Zestier?¡± he countered, a brow raised.


    And then I remembered Xyrus, when Art was in the infirmary room after saving me from Curtis¡¯ attack. Where I¡¯d kissed him. Against his will.


    Grandpa must have seen something on my face, because this time his grin was even more sly. ¡°So, when can I expect great-grandchildren?¡± he said, waggling his brows lewdly. ¡°Considering how haunted you look¨C¡±


    I engaged the First Phase of my Beast Will, wind swirling around my fist as I levered it at my grandpa. ¡°Not one more word,¡± I said. ¡°I will hit you. I don¡¯t want to hear it!¡±


    Grandpa simply laughed, before grabbing me and pulling me into another hug. I melted into his embrace as he ruffled my hair. ¡°Okay, okay,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll stop teasing you, Tessia. You need to stop showing such faces so easily whenever Arthur is mentioned. That boy is your one weakness.¡±


    I mumbled something into the crook of Grandpa¡¯s shoulder. Arthur wasn¡¯t really a boy. Wasn¡¯t ever really a boy. But he was Arthur, and it wasn¡¯t his age that made me melt into a puddle whenever our eyes met or he showed me care and affection.


    At least¡­ That was what I thought.


    I need to talk to him sometime soon, I thought. About who Grey was. About¡­ About all of that.


    I still didn¡¯t know what to think about Grey. My first reaction was one of acceptance and care, but then I¡¯d been allowed to think.


    I didn¡¯t think Arthur lied to me, but neither had he been truthful.


    I pushed away from Grandpa, settling myself as I stared up at him. ¡°I, uh¡­ I¡¯ll try,¡± I said, not certain I could promise such a thing. ¡°But I¡¯m glad I got this off my chest.¡±


    Grandpa nodded slowly. ¡°It has been good to talk, Tessia. There¡¯s not enough of that nowadays, with the war and bloodshed. Not enough people sitting down and just speaking to each other.¡± He shook his head dismissively. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t have much time left to spend here. Before I do leave, I need to know what you meant when you sent your message.¡±


    I blinked in confusion. ¡°I mean¡­ I did, Grandpa. I wanted to say sorry. Sorry for how mean I¡¯d been,¡± I said, averting my eyes. ¡°That¡¯s why I asked you to be here.¡±


    I felt a mote of surprise as Virion¡¯s strong hands grasped my shoulders. ¡°What do you mean, little one? The message I got just today was that you got important information about the Alacryan push into Elshire from one of our soldiers. Something about mana beacons in the mist? That was why I was so quick to come here. You haven¡¯t sent any messages in a while, so I assumed this was important.¡± He shifted slightly. ¡°I assumed you needed your space.¡±


    I shook my head, feeling confused. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t send anything about that. But what do you mean, you didn¡¯t get any messages? I¡¯ve been sending them all the time!¡± I coughed. ¡°I mean¡­ most of them were mean. And angry. And¨C¡±


    Grandpa¡¯s eyes focused distinctly on me, his pupils dilating into tiny pinpricks as the force radiating from him expanded. ¡°Tessia, I need you to tell me what your last message was.¡±


    I felt a grim sense of foreboding rising from my core, even with the First Phase of my Beast Will active. My lips felt dry as I spoke. ¡°I wanted to apologize. For being cruel to you over our messages,¡± I said, feeling small.


    Grandpa whirled on his feet, ignoring me in a manner that left me shell-shocked. ¡°Captain!¡± he barked to a nearby elf in light chainmail. ¡°Get your troops organized now! Code poisonthorn-three-five! This is not a drill. Organize with your higher-ups immediately!¡±


    The man stuttered in his step, his eyes widening as he snapped a quick salute. ¡°Understood, Commander! I¡¯ll rally all I see on my way!¡± he said, sounding panicked, before he engaged some form of wind magic that allowed him to blur along the streets.


    I didn¡¯t understand. The poisonthorn protocols were all dealt around infiltrating enemies and¨C


    My eyes blew wide as my mana began to thrum across my body, my high silver core quaking in sudden fear. ¡°Grandpa, you never got any of my messages, did you?¡± I said, realizing why he was so panicked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t, Tessia,¡± Grandpa said, whirling on his feet once more as he prepared to dart back toward Zestier¡¯s Royal Palace. ¡°Which means the last one I received was a fluke. A false trail, meant to lure me here to Zestier. We¡¯ve been had, and that means¨C¡±


    It was only the recent training with Aya¨Cwhere I meditated in the mists and allowed them to spread across my senses¨Cthat allowed me to detect something was wrong. On barest instinct, I leapt forward, the First Phase of Willow guiding me as I tackled Grandpa. A streaking knife of oozing green mana sank into the cobblestones where we¡¯d been a moment before.


    I whirled on instinct, withdrawing my swordstaff from my dimension ring as I felt the auras slam into me. My body trembled as I stared, wide-eyed, at the tree where the mage had attacked from.


    A short man with pale, sickly skin and a lanky frame gave me a perverse look as he conjured another glowing green dagger. The tree he¡¯d erupted from¨Cone of Elshire¡¯s great oaks¨Cwept tears of mist and rot. ¡°Ho, Bilal,¡± he said casually, his dark hair clinging unnaturally to his skull, ¡°I think these are the targets. Exactly as planned, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    Another mana signature radiated across me in a way that made my teeth clench. A second person emerged from the Elshire oak, further up. They looked like the first Alacryan, except greenish twin blades of mana promised sickly pain as they pulsed with poison. ¡°Only because of your magic, Bivran,¡± he said, his voice sickly and scraping. He was notably stronger than the other, despite their physical similarities.


    A Retainer, I thought, feeling my mana thrum across me as I engaged my Second Phase. The mist of Elshire swirled around me as I focused on my power, glaring at the two Alacryans in the heart of my home.


    Grandpa reacted swiftly as he pulled himself to my side, falling into a familiar martial stance as he extended his hands, glaring at the Retainer and their carry-on. His teeth were gritted as howling wind formed like claws around his outstretched fingers. But even as my Grandpa and I prepared to fight, my instincts told me to look higher.


    And I spied crimson eyes piercing the mists so far above, a presence barely detectable amidst the fog. And with a clench of my will, I tore apart the mists that blanketed her presence.


    The second Retainer blinked in surprise as I ripped their protections away, revealing them to the world. Abnormally light skin¨Clike it had been bleached and then barely suffused with color once more¨Cmatched pale white hair. It outlined their ethereal, wispy form, and tendrils of solid shadow writhed beneath the cracks of her slight dress.


    She focused on me with the quiet intensity of a cat as I spotted her. ¡°Tessia Eralith,¡± she said softly, almost meekly. ¡°And Commander Virion of the Triunion Council. Agrona Vritra has decreed that your lives are forfeit.¡± Her eyes flashed as the other two mages pressed outward with their auras. ¡°And we are his messengers.¡±

 Chapter 244: A Soldiers Duty

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    Tessia Eralith


    I descended into the Second Phase of my Elderwood Guardian Will on instinct as I faced off against the three noxious auras. My hair brightened to a verdant green, and vines erupted from the cobblestones in waves of silver blossoms. Beside me, Grandpa fell into the Integrate Stage of his Shadow Panther Will as well, his features gradually overcome with darkness. Dark motes of energy misted off his form as he became naught but shadow.


    ¡°Tessia,¡± he said in a gravelly voice that carried a predator¡¯s undertone, his feline eyes locked on the Retainers, ¡°you need to run. Now.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even wait a second to respond. ¡°No,¡± I hissed back, my hands clenching around my swordstaff. ¡°There are three of them, Grandpa, and only one of you! I won¡¯t let you fight alone!¡±


    Grandpa opened his mouth to say something else, but then the sickly one with green mana blades snorted. ¡°Bivran, you have another mission. Mawar and I can handle these cretins.¡±


    The shorter Vritra-blooded mage¨Cwho had emerged from a tree not moments before¨Csnarled. ¡°Fine, brother. But you¡¯ll give me the spoils after. These trees resist my magic and I can¡¯t stand being in them too long.¡±


    My eyes widened as Bivran melted back into the tree. With my enhanced senses with Willow¡¯s insight, I could feel the path he was taking as he traveled supernaturally through the Elshire Oak, his path veering away from us and into the heart of Zestier. Like a buzzing fly that darted from branch to branch.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just run!¡± I snapped, putting a foot forward as I engaged my magic, prepared to tear Bivran from his hiding place. The Retainers had appeared in the middle of the most populated city in Elenoir, and if we let them near our people¨C


    A bullet of black wind slammed into the ground in front of me as Mawar casually cast a dozen spells. I snarled as vines grew around me, the serpents of green batting each projectile away and resisting the decaying wind as best they could. Silver flowers blossomed, spewing mist that combatted the fell air as it sought to degrade my lungs.


    Grandpa disappeared in a shadowy blur, less than an afterimage left behind as he sped toward Bilal. The Retainer cackled as he leveraged his dual-green mana blades, inviting the former king of Elenoir to try.


    They became a flurry of blades and wind-enhanced claws as they bounced around the trees, the crash of their mana echoing across the forest. People screamed and ran as scythes of cutting wind and pustules of acidic rot ate at houses and homes.


    I gritted my teeth, my eyes focusing into pinpricks as I spotted the leisurely Retainer high in the trees. She matched me with an expression that could¡¯ve been apathetic.


    I need to kill this one! I thought. And then I¡¯ll go after the other!


    Vines as thick as trees erupted from the ground around me as I embraced my Will, and then I was lurching through the air. The verdant tendrils of blossoming life hauled me through the trees of Elshire at record speed as I approached the intruding Retainer.


    The shadowy Retainer, however, didn¡¯t seem perturbed at my approach. She backed away slowly, balancing perfectly on the tree branch as tendrils of shadow emerged from beneath her dress. Each was black as pitch and disturbingly close to my very own vine-shroud spells.


    Mawar¡¯s face furrowed into an expression of concentration as she glided away from me, sending out more tendrils of shadow and wind as I tried to close the gap. They twirled and danced with the hulking mass of my vines, the shadowy tentacles more than able to keep me at bay. My blossom-covered vines withered and decayed wherever they touched the shadows, but for every vine broken, another surged to take its place.


    I alighted on the branch Mawar had just been on, before surging after her once more. The mists seemed to carry me along as I chased my foe, urging me to remove this trespasser in the elven domain. I jumped through the air, arcing to meet the Retainer as her tendrils of shadow tried to pull her toward another bough.


    I conjured half a dozen vines around me like a celestial shell as I closed the gap with the wispy Retainer, the wind rushing past me as my magic dulled air resistance. My eyes flashed as I swung my swordstaff, intending to gore her through the chest. Instead, the silver of my mana-coated weapon skated off armor of solid shadow, more whips of darkness leaking from the cuts in Mawar¡¯s dress. Those cloying tendrils of darkness surged and snapped, trying to gore me and tear at my flesh.


    But I was ready. Blossom-covered vines surged from my chest as well, lassoing around the Retainer¡¯s whips and holding them fast. Like an overly complicated knot, both of our conjured constructs tightened like shoestrings as they pulled fast.


    I could feel her whips trying to eat away at the life-giving structure of my vines, but I wouldn¡¯t let them. With a flex of my will, the mist that always blanketed Elshire drifted closer, suffusing my vines as they decayed and bolstered them against the effect.


    Mawar¡¯s scarlet eyes widened slightly as she was suddenly caught. Behind her, conjured whips of dark mana tried to pull her toward the boughs of the trees far above. On another end, her summoned constructs were locked in a deadly knot of conflict with mine. If she relinquished even an ounce of control on either end, I would find an opportunity to strike.


    I drove my swordstaff into the bough of a nearby branch, using it to anchor myself before I could fall. Gritting my teeth, I heaved on the mana in my core, demanding it to flow across my channels. ¡°You are a fool, Retainer,¡± I bit out as I began to strain, pulling on her tendrils as more and more mist surged around us. ¡°You challenge an elf in Elshire! The very air you breathe clouds your senses!¡±


    My arms strained as sweat beaded on my brow, but then I heard it. An echoing crack of splintering wood. One, then two. And finally, the branch Mawar had been trying to use to escape gave way.


    It exploded in a shower of wooden shrapnel as Mawar slingshotted toward me. In barely an instant, I ripped my swordstaff from the wood, bolstering it against my side like a lance. The unnaturally pale Retainer was primed to impale herself like a fruit upon the end as she rebounded with the force of our conjoined tendrils.


    But then the Retainer did something that I hadn¡¯t expected. Even as I fell¨Cand Mawar hurtled¨Cshe managed to adjust herself slightly as she approached, her tendrils snapping and moving in a strange way.


    Her deep red eyes flashed as my swordstaff scored a cut along her side, drawing dark blood that splattered across our intertwined constructs, before she smashed into me shoulder-first with the force of an iron hyrax. My vines tried to redirect to protect me, but they were busy in their interweave with Mawar¡¯s. The breath was driven from my lungs as I wheezed in pain, feeling the blow travel through my body.


    We fell in tandem to the city streets below. I blinked, trying to get my bearings. Willow crooned in my core.


    ¡°That might have worked once upon a time,¡± Mawar¡¯s soft voice said into the air, ¡°but I fought someone once who taught me about terrain advantage.¡±


    And suddenly, she was barely a breath away. Mawar¡¯s hands reached out, our tendrils and vines battling and snapping and surging around us like angry Darvish sand-octopi. But despite it all, the Vritra-blooded woman had somehow managed to get in close.


    ¡°I know everything the mists do for you, Princess Eralith,¡± she whispered softly. ¡°And I won¡¯t let them work. I¡¯ve always found myself fighting at a disadvantage. It¡¯s nothing new, really.¡±


    I felt panic swell as the ground rushed to meet us, but the Retainer¨Cwho was still trying to grapple with me¨Chad a carefully cool face that showed the barest inflection of concentration as my back approached.


    If I hit the ground, I¡¯ll take all the damage, I thought quickly, the wind shifting my hair into an inverted curtain of bright green as I fell. It weaved and darted past my face just like the automatic defenses of my vines. I need to change this!


    I called on the mana in my core, directing it to the atmosphere around us. The mists eddied and swirled as they washed over us both, and the Retainer startled in confusion as they surged across her face, blocking her vision and robbing her of every sense imaginable.


    At the same time, a large vine¨Ceasily bigger than a house¨Cthrust from the ground like the world¡¯s greatest natural spear. Flowers the size of my entire body bloomed along it, breathing eddies of illusory fog. The elves along the streets screamed in fear as they were thrown from their feet and pelted with bits of rubble, but I couldn¡¯t afford to shift my attention.


    The titanic limb of living forest wrapped around us both, slowly constricting as it curled in on itself like the slow vise of an anaconda. Down and down and down we went, the pressure increasing more and more as my mana core squeezed.


    I exhaled, allowing myself to be drawn in and through the vine. I flowed like the wind as I pushed past the burning in my arms, before I emerged near the base of the vine.


    I rolled as I emerged from the sea of green, thicker around than most Elshire oaks. I exhaled as I snapped to my feet, taking in the state of the battlefield with a soldier¡¯s trained precision. If I focused my hearing, I could hear the echoing clashes of Grandpa¡¯s fight with the other Retainer. The wicked pulse of their power was tangible even from where I stood, shadow panther and basilisk blood vying for supremacy.


    But my focus was drawn away from the far-distant battle as the sounds of boots on cobbles, cries of terror, and shouts for order as I noted a few soldiers darting about as they ran to try and assist wherever they could. Their mana flared as they tried to both tend to citizens wounded by the crossfire and approach me in scores to help me in battle.


    ¡°Assist our people!¡± I snapped at them, focusing on a leading elven captain. Albold Chaffer, I thought. ¡°Get them away and to safety! You can¡¯t afford to intervene!¡±


    Mawar was still trapped within the grip of the vine. With the mist assaulting her senses and the vine pressing against her, she shouldn¡¯t be able to¨C


    My eyes widened in surprise as I sensed a change in the Retainer¡¯s mana. It deepened and darkened for an instant, even as the vine continued to try and squeeze the life from her lungs.


    ¡°Brace!¡± I yelled, conjuring a wall of stalwart vines in front of me. They thrust through the cobblestones like angry swords, raising a protective wall between the Retainer and the soldiers behind me. ¡°Brace for impact!¡±


    The house-sized vine constraining the Retainer shuddered¨Cthen exploded. Shrapnel blew outward in an omnidirectional wave as it carried the broken remnants of my spell like a hundred miniature arrows.


    I braced against my conjured wall of vines, feeling and hearing as each spear of decimated plant matter embedded itself into my living barrier. I gritted my teeth as the shockwave traveled over me, but the soldiers and civilians behind me were spared the worst.


    When it was done, I lowered my wall hesitantly, my sweat-slick hands gripping my swordstaff like a lifeline. I could feel the strain of using my Beast Will for so long, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as strenuous as it was before. I steadied my breathing as I shifted back into stance, aware of the elves behind me as they evacuated into the mists.


    I focused on the center of the decimated street, knowing my foe waited there.


    Mawar had changed. Her pale, bone-white skin was now an ebony so deep it seemed to drink in the light. Her eyes had shifted to a feline, amber gleam that promised me vengeance. And her aura¨Cit swelled and redoubled as it pulsed outward, pushing the mists themselves away. I could feel Willow¡¯s anger as the decaying shadow-winds radiating from Mawar¡¯s body ate away at the protective fog.


    Paint paint paint, Willow seethed as the mists eroded around Mawar, gone gone gone!


    The Vritra rolled her shoulders, a snarl growing on her face as she looked down at her arm. It was clearly dislocated, the thin shoulder wrenched cleanly from its socket. A dribble of blood spilled down the edge of her mouth.


    The Retainer grabbed her arm, then grunted as she shoved it back into the socket with an audible crack. When she glared back at me, I could finally see the kindling embers of rage and anger in her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re better than you should be, Princess,¡± she snapped, her aura surging. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to do this the hard way.¡±


    I exhaled, then moved back into my fighting stance. I leveled my swordstaff at the Retainer, feeling confident in my abilities to handle her, even with this new form of hers. ¡°You¡¯ll see there¡¯s a lot you pathetic Alacryans don¡¯t know about me, Mawar Vritra,¡± I shot back. ¡°Underestimating me will lead to your death.¡±


    Behind me, the civilians finally managed to clear their ways from the street.


    Perfect, I thought, ready to surge back into the fight.


    But then I felt something blurring towards me, the mists conveying quiet companionship as a blade of crescent green surged through the low light.


    Acting on barely a hint of instinct and the long training I¡¯d done with Lord Aldir, I weaved to the side, watching with wide eyes as the second Retainer¨CBilal¨Cseemed to phase into existence with absurd speed. His blade of bright, caustic green mana severed half a dozen strands of my hair as I haphazardly avoided his surprise attack, his beady eyes gleaming as his dark hair clung to his head.


    I pivoted, desperately trying to right my balance as something else surged toward my sternum. Bilal was covered in a dozen cuts and weeping wounds, but still, he forged on as he tried to drive a syringe toward my chest. A needle glinted, filled with a familiar dark liquid.


    And then Grandpa was there, a wisp of shadow as his claws scraped against Bilal¡¯s arm. The Retainer hissed in pain as he was forced to retract the syringe, backpedaling away from the once-King of Elenoir. But Grandpa was faster.


    With the force of a hurricane wind, he shifted his stance, driving his fist into Bilal¡¯s unprotected stomach. The Retainer¡¯s eyes bulged out of his wiry little head as the air was driven from his lungs. I thought I could hear something crack.


    Then, with the flowing grace of long practice, Grandpa pirouetted around a haphazard swipe of Bilal¡¯s mana blade, before he struck the Retainer solidly in the sternum.


    Bilal¡¯s scarecrow-like body shot away as wind erupted from Virion¡¯s blow, sending him smashing into the ruins of a nearby house. Dust flew as stone crumbled.


    But despite his victory in the short scuffle, Grandpa was covered in nearly as many cuts as the Retainer, and he heaved for breath just as his foe. Slow rivulets of blood traced down his hardened physique. Little bits of acid and rot littered his shadow-clad form, and I could tell from the narrowing of his eyes that he was feeling the strain of using his Beast Will for so long.


    ¡°Tessia,¡± Grandpa said sharply, his breath short, ¡°you need to track the other Alacryan! They¡¯ve got another target, little one! You need to go now! We have this handled!¡±


    Mawar¡¯s eyes narrowed as she glared at us, but she didn¡¯t make a move, rightly worried about trying to test both Grandpa and me at once. But I couldn¡¯t leave my Grandpa to fight this battle alone.


    But then something in the atmosphere changed. I noticed it first, my ears twitching as the mist sensed their sister¡¯s call. I perked up, my eyes going wide as I felt the incoming effects. Grandpa didn¡¯t react, though I had no doubt he knew what was coming as well.


    Mawar barely had time to react as Aya¡¯s wind-clad form phased into existence, before slamming into her. I heard a howl of pain and anger as the two blurred through the misty streets, furrows of wind¨Cboth fell and whole¨Ctrailing in their wake as the assassin made her mark.


    Thank you, Aya! I thought, reining my mana in as I focused on where Grandpa had thrown the other Retainer. Bilal was pulling himself from the rubble now, and he looked angrier than I¡¯d ever seen him. The syringe of dark liquid churned in his grip, making phantom pains radiate from my mana core. My eyes widened as I recognized the putrid toxin.


    That¡¯s what Spellsong ripped from my core, I thought, taking a step back involuntarily as my vines churned in agitation. The same corruption! And he was trying to stab me with it!


    ¡°Go, Tessia!¡± Grandpa said, sweat and blood mixing as they coursed along his skin. ¡°Go now! The teleportation gate! That¡¯s where they¡¯re headed!¡±


    My eyes widened as his words registered with me. If Bivran was heading to the teleportation gate, then¨C


    ¡°But I can¡¯t leave you, Grandpa!¡± I said, grasping his shoulders. ¡°Please! You don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll win! I can see it in your eyes! You don¡¯t have to fight him alone! Together, we can beat him easily, then we can go!¡± I tried, feeling panic swell as my heart raced.


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    ¡°You have your orders, soldier!¡± Grandpa shouted, his mana straining as he placed himself between me and Bilal. ¡°See to the enemy in our home! Do your duty! This is the battlefield, Head Tessia Eralith! There is no place for sentiment!¡±


    The words rang like a reverberating bell across my body, causing my throat to constrict as my heart clenched painfully. My eyes darted to the syringe in Bilal¡¯s hands, to Grandpa, and then toward the teleportation gates as I struggled to make a decision.


    But Grandpa, no¡­ Commander Virion was right. The battlefield was no place for sentiment. I was a soldier, and that meant I sacrificed what I wanted for the sake of my continent.


    I felt my emotions even out as I finally found direction. I snapped a quick salute to my Commander as he faced off against the existential threat to all of Zestier. ¡°Understood, Commander,¡± I said sharply.


    And then I was moving, the mists carrying me toward my goal. Behind me, I could hear Bilal¡¯s enraged voice as he tried to pursue, but Grandpa¡¯s angry howls and wind-enforced strikes kept him at bay.


    I would trust him. I had to trust him.


    Because Grandpa was right. Bivran had been running toward the teleportation gates, and any tampering with them could spell doom to the entirety of Elshire.


    The mists carried me as the resounding clashes of both battles echoed around me, each creak of metal and barrage of spellfire making the streets tremble and crack.


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to spot the teleportation gate. And what I saw made my heart quake with fear.


    A squadron of elven soldiers lay decimated, all in various states of broken heaps. Caustic mana sizzled and popped through the air as a sole fighter put up a desperate last stand against Bivran.


    My eyes widened as I spotted who the struggling warrior was¨Cbut then dipped into something even more horrified as I spotted one of the broken bodies laying in the street.


    Albold Chaffer was the only mage left standing, despite his many wounds. His gray eyes burned with terrified determination as he stood tall against the loping predator that was Bivran. ¡°You know, I would have expected more from one of the monarchs of this country,¡± he mocked, clearly enjoying how Albold shuddered, ¡°but it seems that even I¨C¡±


    I yelled in fury as I phased onto the teleportation gate¡¯s platform in a windswept blur, vines writhing angrily as I emerged in front of Bivran. He didn¡¯t even notice my approach, too focused on toying with his prey. Too entranced by the bloodshed.


    The Vritra didn¡¯t even have the time to blink in surprise before my vines wrapped around his throat. His smile¨Cwhich he¡¯d been directing at a specific woman on the ground¨Ccut off as the blood flow to his brain began to slow. He choked and wheezed as I held him in a grip, his acid trying and failing to decay my vines.


    ¡°You fucking monster,¡± I hissed, seeing only red. Then my swordstaff gored him through the chest, tearing a bloody streak through his core and eviscerating his spine. I watched the light go from his eyes¨Cfilled with more disbelief than pain¨Cbefore I hurled his body to the ground. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For good measure, I conjured half a dozen vines as thick as my torso, allowing them to slam into the corpse over and over and over and over again. My breathing hitched as I whirled on my feet, feeling tears prick at the edges of my vision as I darted toward one of the bodies laid out before the teleportation gates.


    ¡°Mom,¡± I said nervously, my hands shaking as I inspected her poison-ridden form. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯ll get you to the emitters.¡±


    Her eyes were closed, her face clenched in a mask of pain as she shuddered, clearly unconscious. When I laid my hands on her chest, I could feel the Vritra-tinged mana eating its way through her mana veins, seeking her core and leaving horrid poison in its wake.


    Clearly, my mother had put herself between the wretched Vritra and our teleportation gates, risking life and limb for our people. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes as I made note of her wounds, before looking over the rest of the broken soldiers around me.


    ¡°Captain Chaffer,¡± I said, my voice wavering as I pulled myself to my feet, ¡°you need to organize a defense around the teleportation gates. The Alacryans want to create a route straight into our forest, and we don¡¯t know what sort of devices they might have.¡±


    What did I need to do next? I was the Princess of Elenoir. It was my duty to lead. To take charge when¡­ when nobody else could.


    I forced my jaw to stop trembling as I wrapped my arms beneath my mother¡¯s, holding her in a simple princess carry. Her head lolled sickeningly, her skin deathly pale rather than the healthy, milky tone I was used to. Green writhed beneath her muscles, standing out starkly against the alabaster of her flesh.


    My vines stopped beating the corpse of Bivran into bloody mush. I stood on shaky feet, holding my mother close as I forced my thoughts into something more deliberate. Willow sent encouragement over our bond, trying her best to help me focus. Help me be a Princess.


    ¡°Guard this gate with your life, soldier,¡± I said. ¡°I will be taking Councilwoman Merial to the Emitters Guild, along with all I can carry. Any order you give henceforth bears the weight of the Eralith House.¡±


    Albold nodded slowly, his choppy blonde hair matted to his head by sweat. ¡°As you command, Princess Tessia,¡± his tone of utmost respect. Entirely unlike the simpering soldiers who tried to treat me like a glass sculpture. Like something that would break at the slightest nudge.


    Maybe there was a time when that would have filled me with pride and joy. I was being taken seriously! When I levied a command, people listened. Listened as they did to Dad. Like they did to Grandpa. Like they did to Arthur.


    But as I wrapped as many dying bodies as I could with my vines, doing my best to be gentle even as the toxic decay ate its way through their mana channels and veins, I realized I found no satisfaction in the sensation. Not right now, when so much was at stake. When any second could spell death for those I cared for.


    I bounded down the streets, quietly determined even as the clashes of power continued to radiate through Zestier. I knew the paths through the elven capital by heart¨Cno, by soul. As I ran through the battle-torn streets, I called out to any I could, ordering civilians to take cover and for soldiers to amass at certain points. Reinforce Albold. Guard the choke points of the city. Ensure that nobody infiltrated key locations. As I ran, I allowed Willow to drift back toward my core. I didn¡¯t need her power right now, but nonetheless, she poured soothing water across my mind as I continued to act.


    Everything was a blur as I moved through the city, absently commanding a few water mages to put out fires that had started from the collapse of a few buildings. I forgot how to think. How to feel. How to even be as I continued my unerring line toward the Emitter¡¯s Guild.


    And when I reached them, it was to a massive crowd of panicked people, all pressing for their loved ones to be healed or seen by the overwhelmed mages within. Yet as I arrived at the front, I hesitated. Could I command these people to step aside for me? For my mother and her¨C


    ¡°Make way for the Princess!¡± someone called, sparing me the need. ¡°She has wounded! I repeat, make way!¡±


    And as the crowd saw the limp form of my mother in their arms, they parted. Like a rock thrust into a river, every elf who saw the broken body of their former queen made way. Women put their hands to their mouths in shock and fear, while the men gritted their teeth and stared on in horror at the form in my hands.


    I set the soldiers I¡¯d carried with my vines down around me, feeling only half aware as I started trudging toward the clinic. My feet were heavy and my mind was clouded with a fog not of Elshire as I kept my Beast Will close to the surface of my skin.


    I blinked as a man approached¨Ca human I didn¡¯t recognize. His glasses were haphazard on his crooked nose, and his expression was one of barely-contained anxiety as he looked over the former queen of Elenoir.


    ¡°I can try,¡± he said quickly, ¡°try to help her. I¡¯ll do my best, Lady Eralith, but¨C¡±


    I whirled as I sensed a beacon of dark mana approaching. The people around me all fell to their hands and knees as the pressure overwhelmed them. I called Willow to the forefront of my mind once more as I put myself between the dark power and the people, feeling the beat of my heart increase as I clutched my mother desperately in my hands.


    Mawar alighted atop a building not too distant from us. She was covered from head to toe in bloody cuts, and her dark skin seemed to absorb the equally-dark blood back into herself. Her amber eyes narrowed as they took in my form, the body in my hands, and then the healers around me.


    My shoulders stiffened. With every second that passed, my mother dipped further and further into the abyss. I could feel as her core began to clench, her beautiful skin willowing away. I needed to get her to safety, but with the Retainer¨C


    Mawar cocked her head. ¡°Your mother?¡± she asked, her almost meek voice echoing.


    I gnashed my teeth, refusing to respond. Where the hell was Aya? She couldn¡¯t be dead. I would have felt that, I was certain. My eyes shot to the Healers Guild not far behind me. If I dropped Mom off there, would I¨C


    ¡°Give her to the healers, Princess Eralith,¡± Mawar said, her breathing strained. ¡°She is uninvolved in our fight.¡±


    Her intent receded somewhat, allowing the healers and civilians around me to breathe as they cried out in renewed terror. Like startled skitters or terrified frostflies, they surged back, becoming more and more a mob as they struggled to get away from the Retainer, who stood like a dark scarecrow atop the distant building.


    I swallowed. This could be a trap. Some kind of lure to get me to lower my defenses. But I couldn¡¯t afford to risk it.


    I turned sharply, staring at the healer behind me. I didn¡¯t give him a chance to protest as I gently¨Cbut still forcefully¨Cdeposited my mother¡¯s body into his arms. He took a few steps back, seeming overwhelmed by the weight.


    I swiveled on my heel, staring back up at the Retainer, watching her for any movement as the healer ran with my mother¡¯s body back toward his clinic. There was none.


    I thought I saw something in her eyes as she watched my mother be taken into the clinic. Some sort of longing. Or maybe a distant memory.


    I withdrew my swordstaff from my dimension ring, flourishing it as I prepared to fight once more. My mana channels ached from my previous battles and my constant trek through Zestier¡¯s streets, but¨C


    Then something smashed into the building by my side, less than a blur of darkness. My eyes widened in surprise as I felt Grandpa¡¯s mana signature within the cloud of dust, but¨C


    The dust cleared.


    Grandpa laid broken in a pile of rubble, his Shadow Panther Beast Will receding as his mana lurched. As the shadows of his power were overcome by an even deeper darkness. Because at the center of his chest, there was a syringe¨Cemptied of dark liquid¨Cdriven directly into his core.


    And I knew what that meant. I could feel as it attacked and tore away at my Grandpa¡¯s system, so much worse than my mother. I¨C


    I watched, only half-seeing, as the man who had all but raised me coughed a spittle of dark blood. My swordstaff slipped from my hands as I rushed to him, feeling as if I was in a dream, all thoughts of Mawar forgotten.


    ¡°No, Grandpa,¡± I blubbered as I stumbled to where he lay beaten in the rubble. All across his aged skin, little cuts showed where Bilal¡¯s acid swords had reaped their due. ¡°Grandpa, you¡¯re alright. You¡¯re going to get back up.¡±


    I knelt by the rocks, my trembling fingers clasping Grandpa¡¯s shoulders. My eyes darted to the syringe embedded in his core, to his face, then back frantically. He didn¡¯t even seem to notice, the corruption worming its way through him causing his body to tremble and his eyes to quiver.


    The outside world fell away as his eyes fell on me, and they seemed to focus. His arms shuddered as they tried to grasp my own. He whispered a few words, nearly too low to be heard.


    ¡°Run, Tessia,¡± he croaked, delirious from this attack. ¡°Run.¡±


    ¡°Utter fucking wretch,¡± a caustic voice said from behind me. ¡°We only had two of those vials. Mawar, you¡¯re going to give me your syringe now. We got the wrong target.¡±


    ¡°You got the wrong target,¡± Mawar¡¯s voice quietly countered. ¡°This misstep is your fault.¡±


    Tears fell from my eyes as Grandpa¡¯s arm went limp, his body giving out. As his very body turned against him, the corruption ravaging his insides.


    Bilal scoffed, something wet and pained. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. He was still one of the targets. Kill the old bastard, stab the young bitch. Shouldn¡¯t be a problem if we stab him and kill her instead.¡±


    And just like that, my sorrow and fear was overwhelmed with fury. I turned slowly, my tear-stricken eyes blurring my vision.


    But I could still see Bilal. Could still see the mess of wrongly-bent limbs and sweat-slicked dark hair. He was bleeding from a hundred wounds, and he looked like he was barely able to stand.


    But when he saw my eyes, he laughed. ¡°Look, Mawar. She¡¯s crying. Like you did when¨C¡±


    I blurred forward, my swordstaff forgotten. Mawar appeared to be the only one thinking with any sort of sense, because she tried to intercept me. She blurred in from the side, a score of her tendrils tearing a bloody gash across my stomach as I charged unerringly toward the Retainer who had infected my Grandpa.


    I didn¡¯t care. My vines surged, stained in my own blood, as they batted Mawar away. My ribs creaked as blood streamed across my chest, but I couldn¡¯t feel the pain. Bilal¡¯s eyes widened as he haphazardly tried to summon more green mana blades, but I closed the distance too fast.


    I yelled in bestial rage as vines erupted around us, my Second Phase burning hot in my skin and my high-silver core aching from abuse. My vines smashed aside Bilal¡¯s green blade, shattering them into tiny motes of caustic mana.


    I closed the distance, swiping my hands as I summoned blades of wind to try and tear the Retainer apart. They blurred with the humming force of a whirlwind as I ignored my wounds.


    Except when they struck the disoriented Retainer¡¯s body, tendrils of familiar shadow peeled out from under his thin robes, protecting him against the blasts of cutting air. They shattered into infuriatingly small gales that did little more than spread the bastard¡¯s blood further into his robes.


    Bilal, who seemed frozen in utter fear in the moment I¡¯d reached him, quickly regained his composure as a sneer overtook his horrified expression. As I closed the distance, he conjured a blade of bright green mana, preparing to drive it through my core. ¡°Finally doing your job as Shield, Mawar? It¡¯s about time!¡± he hissed.


    My eyes darkened with burning fury as I saw the blade approaching. I was too close to avoid it; too driven by my anger and fury. But I would see Bilal¡¯s core torn from his chest.


    I shifted to the side, allowing the caustic mana blade to drive up and through my shoulder. I felt as it emerged from the other side, my eyes wild and pained as I finally got in close.


    ¡°You crazy bitch,¡± Bilal hissed with wide eyes as I finally neared my target. ¡°Are you willing to die just to¨C¡±


    My hand¨Ccoated in mist and wind and a smattering of vines¨Cthrust into his chest. He tried to pull away, but my other arm cinched tight around his where he¡¯d impaled me. My fingers dug through his spindly flesh, finally finding what they were searching for.


    My fingers cinched around his core, even as the tendrils of black shadow battered and smashed at my arms. My skin broke and withered. My bones trembled and cracked. But I wouldn¡¯t allow this to stop me.


    I stared into Bilal¡¯s horrified eyes, feeling blood dribble down my chin. Then I clenched my fist.


    His core cracked, then shattered. I tore my hand from his chest in a spray of dark blood, the fatal wound weeping dark-stained crimson. He fell to the cobbles in a wet flop, unable to even make a sound.


    I immediately felt my knees tremble as blood streamed from the wounds across my body, my reckless charge demanding its toll. I coughed, the liquid in my lungs rattling about.


    I turned woozily on my feet, glaring at Mawar. I knew my wounds were bad. They might even be fatal if I didn¡¯t seek attention soon. But the other Retainer was here, too. I needed to deal with them.


    Willow¡¯s power breathed softly, sadly across my mind as I forcefully kept control over my mana. The gash across my side wept a steady stream, and the wound in my shoulder ached fiercely.


    There was something complicated in Mawar¡¯s eyes as she watched me slowly bleed out, but she didn¡¯t attack just yet, even as I forced myself into stance. Aya, where are you?


    ¡°I was supposed to leave you alive, Tessia Eralith,¡± Mawar said slowly. ¡°But if you wish to die, I cannot stop you.¡±


    I snarled, feeling my heart clench as I spotted Grandpa as he lay unconscious in the rubble. He would die too, I knew, if he didn¡¯t get attention soon. I needed him¡­ needed him if I wanted to keep going.


    Mawar conjured a torrent of dark wind around herself, prepared to finish this confrontation. Her eyes glinted with manifested amber as her power swelled, her breathing strained.


    But then I felt it. A warm, burning-yet-not touch that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It thrummed across my body, but not. More like a touch on my mind? I blinked in surprise, recognizing it. It wanted me¡­ wanted me to listen?


    It was like my connection with Willow, but also something entirely separate. More ethereal and indistinct. I couldn¡¯t even tell why I thought it was a fire. Why I thought it was warm. It just was. Or as close to warm as I could think.


    But what good would listening do right now? My foe stood across from me, ready to tear apart everything I¡¯d ever known. I needed to stay focused. I needed to tear out Mawar¡¯s core, too. So that Grandpa could get help from the emitters behind her.


    I blinked tears from my eyes at the insistent fire as it pressed against the confines of my skull. Nagging, like an insistent itch. More and more and more I felt it poking and prodding, demanding to be let in.


    And I could almost sense its intention. Its desire. Why it¨Che¨Cwas being such an annoying pest.


    ¡°Fine!¡± I yelled aloud, feeling my ire rise. ¡°Fine, I don¡¯t care!¡± I hissed. ¡°Just give me what I need to break my enemies!¡±


    Mawar¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as I accepted the touch of the demon whispering into my ear¨Cand the change was instant.


    My heart clenched slightly as I exhaled in surprise. Light the color of a waxing dawn flared across my wounds, making me gasp in surprise. A familiar sensation of a resonant hearth thrummed across my entire body as the gash over my shoulder closed, mending as if it were never there. The broken fingers and decayed flesh around my hands sealed over. And in a wash of orange-purple light, it was as if I¡¯d never thrown myself into the thresher in the first place.


    Even despite the crisis that still faced me, I found myself staring down at my body in quiet awe. My heartbeat was strong in my chest as it pulsed in rhythm with that strange hearthfire. Willow crooned in awe.


    But the first to speak was not me. It was Mawar. ¡°Spellsong...?¡± she said, backing away with a tremble in her lips. ¡°He healed you. But he isn¡¯t here.¡±


    My emerald gaze snapped back to the Retainer, whose body was still littered with half a hundred cuts. While I¡¯d been healed, she experienced no such succor. Her blood stained the cobbles, and she seemed to realize it.


    Then she did something I never expected. She slowly raised her hands, allowing her mana to dissipate as her shadow whips disappeared. Her aura sifted away, her dark skin shifting back to its normally pale color as she abandoned her form.


    I could feel Aya¡¯s mana signature as she raced from some far corner of the city¨Chow she¡¯d been taken there, I did not know. I gritted my teeth, feeling the exhaustion across my body even as I stared at the Retainer.


    Was this some sort of trick? Some sort of trap to lure me in?


    But the Retainer hadn¡¯t struck me when I¡¯d given my mother to the healer.


    ¡°I surrender,¡± the short-haired Retainer said softly, averting her eyes, causing mine to widen in turn. ¡°And tell Spellsong¨Cwhen you see him next¨Cthat our debt is settled.¡±

 Chapter 245: Branching Paths

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I pulled myself out of the Sea, feeling strangely detached for a bare instant. When I emerged from my meditative inspection, an odd sort of weariness stretched across my bones.


    I didn¡¯t move immediately. I wasn¡¯t sure I could. Physically, I was in perfect health. But mentally¡­


    When I¡¯d witnessed Tessia¡¯s soul withering¡ªa vine ever-blossoming with motes of silver and life¡ªI¡¯d acted on instinct. I¡¯d reached out with more than flesh. More than the mind. I pressed outward with my very soul.


    The sensation was like nothing I¡¯d ever experienced. I was moving something that was me, but was also beyond and above and through me. It was impossible to put into words. Language simply failed to describe something so vast.


    And as my soul had approached Tessia¡¯s, I was able to do a sort of¡­ inverse of how I traced my heartfire up to my essence. When I sought my soul, I was a fish fighting against an upward current of heartfire. Yet by knowing the dips and weaves of that lifeforce¡ªby understanding myself¡ªI could follow that life-giving river to its source.


    When I¡¯d approached Tessia Eralith¡¯s soul, I saw the downward trickle of her pained heartfire. I could see and sense and feel the anguish that radiated through her blood. And I¡¯d done all I could. I¡¯d reached out, offering whatever I could to help her.


    And she¡¯d accepted the help I¡¯d offered. But what I sensed as I healed her¨Cthe damages I¡¯d detected in her flesh and bones¡­


    Decay. The wounds Tessia Eralith bore could¡¯ve only been caused by void wind and bile water.


    ¡°Agrona has made his move,¡± Aurora said gravely at my side, her shade pacing back and forth. ¡°He has levied an attack on Elshire. The Heart of Elenoir, no? That was where your nest-mate¡¯s intel placed the elven princess.¡± Her eyes dimmed for a moment as they flicked to me. ¡°Has he succeeded in the capture of Elshire? As you worked to prevent?¡±


    I allowed myself a deep breath, steadying my heartbeat. I wanted to panic. Wanted to rush to Seris and demand what intel she had on the elven forest.


    But that would solve nothing. I needed the calm that my meditation left me in to sort this through, to understand the facts I had at hand.


    No, I do not think so, I thought to Aurora. But the wounds on Tessia¡¯s body¡­ they matched the abilities of a specific few people. Mawar and Bilal, the ones who were about to enact some sort of plan soon.


    My mood darkened as I exhaled. Aurora¡¯s emotions matched my own, questions there. Viessa Vritra had made her move. The only question now was what the outcome was.


    ¡ª


    I struggled to maintain my composure as I walked through the deep chasm of the Divot, wary of every shadow that appeared a bit too deep. In my head, I constantly weighed the possibilities of this war.


    The weight of Mordain¡¯s message had redoubled in the back of my mind, a headache growing that no amount of heartfire healing could wash away. My head throbbed with piercing pain as I approached Seris¡¯ quarters.


    Mordain laid the weight of Agrona¡¯s massacres at my feet. If not directly blaming me, then at least asking me if what I worked for was worth the cost.


    And now another divergence from what I knew. Bilal, Mawar, and presumably Bivran¨Cgoing off the conversation I¡¯d heard not long ago between them¨Chad somehow infiltrated the elven forest. Was I willing¨Cwas I able¨Cto bear the weight of whatever lives were lost on my shoulders?


    I could feel Seris in her room, alongside Cylrit. I could not hear them through the wards, but I suspected they were deep in conversation.


    Internally, I lamented the fact that I¡¯d only increase their stressors.


    I knocked on the door, mentally preparing myself for the talk to come. Aurora rested her ghostly hand on my shoulder, quietly conveying her support.


    ¡°Come in, Toren,¡± Seris¡¯ pristine voice echoed out. ¡°You are always welcome in my rooms.¡±


    I sighed audibly before I pushed open the door. Seris leaned over a simple desk, several items prominent as she inspected them. I spotted a few tools I didn¡¯t recognize but could swear I¡¯d seen among Sevren¡¯s messy collage in the Town Zone, and a few scattered communication artifacts that helped coordinate her with her forces across Darv. Her brows were furrowed in thought as she cross-referenced a map on one end and her devices on the other. And there was something else on the desk, too. A familiar horn that sent subconscious shivers down my spine.


    One of Varadoth¡¯s horns, I thought gravely, remembering the distant boom of his heartfire. It was still stained with his blackened blood.


    Cylrit stood guard by the door, as he always made sure to do. He nodded to me curtly as I stepped inside. I nodded back.


    Seris seemed preoccupied with whatever she was doing with her paper map¨Ca map of Dicathen, I realized. An elegant fountain pen traced red ink across the map as she swiped lines across certain points on the fresh parchment. ¡°I expected you sooner than this, Toren. Are you here to explain your reaction to Rahdeas¡¯ message to me now that you¡¯ve collected yourself?¡±


    My eyes snapped to the crimson lines Seris was drawing across the board, each a bit too much like blood. One north of Mirror Lake. Another a little bit to the left of Greengate. And one east of Kalberk.


    But those were the ones with the largest strokes of the brush. There were a dozen tinier lines in no distinct pattern radiating from the center. I almost imagined they were veins of blood reaping their toll.


    Seris obviously noticed my attention. She slowed in her annotations, becoming far more serious as she sensed my emotions.


    ¡°It was about that,¡± I said, nodding my head toward the map Seris was making of the points of massacre. I ground my teeth, the points of each mass murder burned into my mind¡¯s eye. ¡°The massacres. The corpses left in our wake, and who is responsible.¡±


    Seris¡¯ dark eyes softened slightly, a reserved mournfulness shadowing her pupils as she stared back at the map. ¡°I was going to tell you soon, Toren. I wished for your bond¡¯s input on this. What she thinks it might mean, considering her¡­ tenure with the High Sovereign,¡± she said sadly. ¡°But I haven¡¯t gathered all the knowledge I could of the attacks. They¡¯ve been happening sporadically all across Sapin, starting shortly after your battle with Scythe Viessa. I don¡¯t have the full picture, but I believe she ordered the start of these attacks not long after your battle. And she has declined to inform me of her plans or even what purpose these bloody assaults serve, beyond instilling terror and fear into every Dicathian,¡± she said with a sigh that seemed to carry her soul.


    Her words did little to quiet my unease. In fact, they only served to make my vision swim slightly. ¡°If I¡¯d killed Viessa when I could have,¡± I said slowly, intentionally annunciating each syllable so that my voice wouldn¡¯t tremble, ¡°would those people still be alive?¡±


    Seris head turned slowly as she caught on the deliberate nature of my words. Her expression fell into something deeper¨Cjust as somber as before, but quietly understanding. I waited on her words as one might wait by a rope in a chasm, the dangling hopes set to pull them out.


    But I didn¡¯t know if what awaited me was a rope or a serpent.


    ¡°No,¡± Seris said after a moment of contemplation. ¡°This is not the work of Viessa, Toren. It is done through her, true¨Cbut it is the work of one beyond her. One above us all that compels her hand, for reasons I cannot yet divine.¡± She shook her head slowly. ¡°No. This would have happened regardless of your choice.¡±


    The first thing I felt was relief. Relief that the lives of so many dead couldn¡¯t be so easily laid at my feet. That Mordain¡¯s quiet accusation was still foggy and unclear in my mind. That I could not trace the flap of the butterfly¡¯s wings to the tornado that ruined lives.


    But then I felt a wave of guilt as I realized this in turn. Guilt that I was afraid to face the truth, whatever it may be.


    ¡°What does it mean,¡± I started solemnly, my eyes locked on the map bearing the weight of blood, ¡°if nothing we do can change the outcome?¡±


    Seris smiled slightly. It was a resigned, knowing thing that dug into my chest like a razor. ¡°We continue anyways, Toren,¡± she said, and it had the echo of a statement repeated constantly to herself. ¡°We do what we can with what we know.¡±


    There was a beat of long quiet silence that stretched through the room like tar.


    We do what we can with what we know, I thought. Is that not what I have always done, since the start of this war? Can I just¡­ keep doing that? Like a machine?


    I felt Aurora¡¯s reassuring hand on my shoulder as she let me process this. ¡°Your nest-mate is right, Toren,¡± she said with the weight of millennia of wisdom. ¡°Even among the asura, there is no such thing as true foresight.¡±


    ¡°Except there is,¡± I said cynically, responding aloud. ¡°There is one who knows the answer, Aurora.¡±


    My bond¡¯s tenuous touch shifted as she turned away mentally, feeling a bit of guilt of her own as I reminded her of her brother.


    Seris peered at me, something indecipherable in her eyes. ¡°There is more to why this bothers you so,¡± she said, holding her chin in her hands in the way she did whenever she thought on something deeply. ¡°Something I do not have the privilege of knowing.¡±


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    I snorted. It appeared there was one constant in this world¨Cthat the moon-blessed Scythe would always be able to pick apart what I was thinking with just a glance. ¡°There is,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°But it isn¡¯t important right now. Not as important as what I came here to say.¡±


    I stared at the Scythe across from me, knowing the mana around me warped from the intensity of my focus. ¡°Mordain Asclepius sent me a message through Rahdeas. Me in particular. But that can be addressed later,¡± I said, pulling myself back on track. ¡°Because Viessa Vritra has made her move on Elshire.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take me long to give a vague rundown of what I¡¯d sensed. I couldn¡¯t really explain too much of my abilities regarding the soul, only that I was able to sense when Tessia Eralith was under duress¨Cand further, that when I healed her, I¡¯d washed away the distinctive marks of void wind decay and bile water rot.


    Seris listened to my explanation with characteristic calm, and if I could not sense her emotions beneath her mask, I would have thought she was entirely unphased by my revelations. She asked occasional questions, which I answered to the best of my ability. Was the capital directly invaded? I didn¡¯t think so, but it wasn¡¯t impossible. Could you sense the state of any others in her vicinity? No, I couldn¡¯t. Were you able to pick apart Tessia Eralith¡¯s thoughts? No, I couldn¡¯t¨Cbut I did get a feel for her intent.


    Which led us to our current situation, where Seris was meticulously sending out requests for information to select spies across Dicathen. She didn¡¯t have enough information to make any conclusive statements, but that could be remedied.


    My Scythe had informed me that her network was weakest in Elenoir. It was difficult to seed spies amidst the long-eared people for multiple reasons: namely, the best spies couldn¡¯t be Alacryans. Humans stood out in Elenoir, which narrowed candidates for spies significantly. The most viable option would be to turn an elf against their very nation¨Cand that was a difficult thing to do.


    Which was why Seris had pushed for a workaround. She didn¡¯t even have true spies in the city of Zestier, but¨Camong similar places¨Chad plants within the neighboring merchant guilds that had opened branches from Sapin as the Triunion came together so many years ago.


    And a secondary problem that faced the Scythe was Elshire¡¯s mists. They made long-range communication difficult and spotty, their strange nature disrupting mana travel as they blanketed the forest. Apparently, Seris¡¯ plants had to use some creative methods to get their messages beyond the forest. One of them simply strapped their communication artifact to a flying artifact and allowed it to hover above the trees so it could convey its messages.


    So it was that it took nearly forty-five minutes for Seris to gather enough concrete reports to paint a clear picture of what had happened¨Cor as clear as she could manage. Some sort of attack had gone down in Zestier itself. It wasn¡¯t clear yet what exactly had happened. Some reports said that four assailants had tried to strike at the Elven Royal Family, but had been beaten back with a single casualty. Others said that the Commander of the Triunion had managed to singlehandedly fend off a Retainer, but had been wounded in the process. And still others claimed that Princess Tessia Eralith had killed half a dozen Alacryan infiltrators in a rage after her grandfather was wounded.


    And Zestier was on lockdown¨Cno movement allowed in or out of the city.


    ¡°There is a throughline to this,¡± Seris said as she strode to another desk with characteristic grace. ¡°All reports my spy included mentioned the royal family in some way, and always at least one of their number being gravely wounded or slain. The rumors were consistent with a small team of Alacryan infiltrators rather than a full breach or assault, and they were beaten back¡ªbut not without cost.¡±


    While Seris meticulously pieced together this puzzle with confidence and grace, I was far less composed. I paced across the opaque crystal floor, my hands shoved in my pockets as I did my best to sift through the muddy waters.


    ¡°Tessia Eralith is alive,¡± I ground out as I loped, voicing my thoughts as they came. ¡°At the time I brushed against her emotions, she was on the cusp of grief. The cusp of loss. But it wasn¡¯t quite there yet.¡± My brow wrinkled as a bead of sweat traced its way down my forehead. ¡°I don¡¯t think any one of the elven royal family is dead. Wounded, more likely. I¡¯ve felt similar reactions elsewhere.¡±


    I stopped in my tracks as a dark, gauntleted hand rested heavily on my shoulder. I turned with slight surprise to see Cylrit, his blood-red eyes quietly compelling. ¡°Do not pace, Spellsong,¡± he said gravely. ¡°Such an action does not serve to settle anxiety, only enhance it. You must take deep breaths and watch the pace of your heart so that it does not rip itself from your chest.¡±


    I forced myself to stand still as I inhaled through my nose, letting the air fill my lungs, before exhaling slowly. Cylrit nodded slowly as he retreated back to the shadows, his countenance as even as ever.


    I can understand why Seris relies on him so much to maintain her masks, I thought as I allowed my thoughts to settle. His presence demands you mirror him. When he is silent, you are silent. When he speaks, you can speak. He is a model of what I must be right now.


    Seris shifted through a few papers of notes she¡¯d marked down in exquisite handwriting after each subsequent message. ¡°I concur, Toren. Death of a family member seems unlikely, but wounding is not off the table. The true intricacies of this come into play once we can discern who was wounded, and what became of Retainers Mawar and Bilal.¡±


    I felt the hand of Aurora¡¯s shade on my shoulder¨Ccomforting and warm. ¡°The targets of this attack are easy to deduce,¡± I said, finally letting myself down in one of Seris¡¯ comfortable chairs as I forced my emotions to settle. ¡°Virion and Tessia Eralith are the most important by far. So the one most likely to be wounded, if Tessia is not¡­¡±


    I trailed off, my lips coming to a thin line. If Virion Eralith were wounded in battle, it would be simple work¨Cunless the damage was deep and pervasive¨Cfor them to patch him up in a week at most.


    Seris withdrew something from her dimension ring as she marched over to her chaise lounge across from me, settling herself down in it like a queen in her baths. Yet despite the grace and elegance in each movement, there was a sharpness to her intent and focus that told me she was deep in preparation.


    The Scythe hefted the item in front of her. A communication artifact.


    ¡°It¡¯s time I had a talk with Viessa Vritra. We¡¯ve put this off for far too long, and she has questions she must answer,¡± Seris said sternly, setting the communication artifact on the desk. ¡°We can make as many guesses as we wish, but ultimately, we can learn them directly from the source.¡±


    Seris tapped something across the artifact in quick succession, slight mana pulses radiating out as she presumably entered a sort of cipher. I leaned forward in my seat, clasping my hands together as I stared at the device.


    I could hear the warbling ping that announced an outgoing call. It rang once. Twice. Thrice.


    And finally, it stopped. My hands clenched as I narrowed my eyes.


    ¡°Hello, Seris,¡± Viessa¡¯s grave-smooth voice echoed out from the artifact. ¡°I expected a call from you. You¡¯re slow, by your standards.¡±


    My brow twitched. Cylrit glared at the artifact.


    Seris simply smiled.


    ¡°I have more things to do with my time than babysit your operations, Viessa,¡± the Scythe of Sehz-Clar countered playfully. ¡°But maybe I should reserve more of my time for monitoring your operations. War is won and lost on information, you know.¡±


    Viessa was silent for a moment, and I understood why. Seris had a way of weaving words that made you question every subtle inflection within, tearing them apart for some sort of hidden meaning.


    ¡°Truer words have not been spoken,¡± the Truacian Scythe eventually said. ¡°The one who knows the most is always the victor in any war. But in the slog of battle, it can be easy to lose track of what information is known.¡±


    ¡°Masked words,¡± Aurora chortled in my head. ¡°A vain attempt to hide how she withholds critical information from her allies.¡±


    Seris clicked her fingers together. ¡°We all make mistakes, Viessa,¡± she said with faux sympathy. She paused, and the grin that stretched across her face as she spared me a glance was enough to send shivers down my spine. ¡°Speaking of which, I¡¯ve arranged a shipment of soothing cream produced by the finest craftsmen in Burim. It should arrive at your encampment in the Beast Glades within the next few days. The dwarves of this continent have long dealt with scalding burns and aching limbs from their quarries with lava and fire salts. They are accustomed to delving too far into fires that burn and char.¡±


    I felt a wry smirk rise to match Seris¡¯ as she savored the silence for a pregnant pause. She was also good at that. Measuring how much silence could be concocted into one recipe of a conversation. ¡°I hope it will serve to soothe the troubles you recently endured.¡±


    And at my invisible side, Aurora laughed lightly¨Csomething that was rare. ¡°It has been a long time since I have seen a subtle ploy so exquisite,¡± she chortled. ¡°But I suspect the burns Viessa Vritra endured will not be so simply remedied. They are the kind that taint the mind more than the body.¡±


    An uneasy silence lingered in the aftermath of Seris¡¯ words. She seemed content to wait for whatever Viessa would have to say in response to the subtle barb.


    ¡°We know why you called, Seris,¡± Viessa finally said. ¡°You can¡¯t stand to be left out of the circle of information. It¡¯s what drives you. That sense of power is what gives you purpose. So go ahead. Ask me for what I have to give. Maybe I¡¯ll consider it.¡±


    Seris¡¯ expression darkened as the taunt landed. I felt a bit of anger well up at the barbs Viessa levied at my lover, but I knew she had this under control. I trusted whatever plan she¡¯d come up with.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t call to ask questions, Viessa,¡± Seris said. ¡°In our very first meeting, I espoused the importance of working together to further the goals of the ones we call Sovereign. And yet you have repeatedly taken action without informing me or seeking my advice¨Cmy expertise. I¡¯ve allowed this for a time.¡±


    ¡°Allowed it?¡± Viessa responded, a dark undertone to her words. ¡°We are both Scythes, Seris Vritra. You have no more power over me than I do over you. Our operations are our own. Separate. Distinct.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why you failed,¡± Seris said casually, cutting across her counterpart¡¯s growing irritation. ¡°None of the objectives our High Sovereign gave you were accomplished today. The Elven Royal Family limps, but the two you needed¨Cthe two he commanded you to target¨Cthey don¡¯t bow.¡±


    Viessa didn¡¯t appear to know how to respond. I could almost imagine her gnashing her teeth on the other end. I leaned forward, feeling my heartbeat quicken as I awaited the outcome of this gambit.


    ¡°He told you?¡± Viessa finally said.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he?¡± Seris countered. ¡°I am the only one among us who has been to war, Viessa. Our High Sovereign knows my expertise in warfare is the greatest of the Scythes. The only other contender for that position fell beneath my boot like a wretch half a century ago,¡± she said, and there was something hungry that flickered in the depths of her intent that gave me pause.


    ¡°Bold,¡± Aurora said, the Unseen World manifesting as she stared at Seris with a mixture of respect and no little uncertainty. ¡°Very, very bold.¡±


    Because Seris didn¡¯t know what Agrona¡¯s plans were¨Cbut just from this simple interaction, she¡¯d divined much. It wasn¡¯t outright said, but I could read between the lines.


    There had been two targets in the assault. Viessa had failed in some way, and she was being given explicit orders from Agrona himself. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°The Commander and the Princess didn¡¯t quite fall as you needed them to, did they?¡± Seris prodded. ¡°The Princess escaped without any wounds at all, as a matter of fact.¡±


    ¡°Commander Virion Eralith is comatose,¡± Viessa bit back. ¡°My foolish Retainer may have failed to inject the Princess with the corruptive concoction, but they at least staked the Commander. And without him, Dicathen¡¯s resistance crumbles.¡±


    My eyes slowly widened as the words sank in. I shared a look with Cylrit as I registered what exactly Viessa had said.


    Virion is comatose, I thought, only starting to grasp the implications of the words, and if he¡¯s comatose, then¨C


    Seris received the news in characteristic stride, however, not nearly as rattled by the news as I. ¡°True enough,¡± she said lazily. ¡°But despite the central nature of Virion Eralith¡¯s position in this war, he was not the true focus of our High Sovereign. Furthermore, the piercing assault through the Elshire Forest hasn¡¯t borne the fruit we expected. If you had spoken to me, Viessa, these could have been avoided.¡±


    The rest of Seris¡¯ tense conversation with Viessa fell away as they continued their charged back and forth.


    But I didn¡¯t hear it. I was too lost in the storm of my thoughts, running the implications over and over and over in my head.


    Because if Commander Viiron Eralith was removed from the playing field, it was only a matter of time before the Triunion Council fractured at the seams.

 Chapter 246: Intentions Uttered

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    When I finally ended the call with my Truacian counterpart, there was a long, long silence that seemed to deaden the room.


    Viessa Vritra was open. Though she proclaimed success in her assault on the elven forest and stated she¡¯d taken the Commander down, the underlying tension in her voice and anger told me that there were more losses she hadn¡¯t spoken of.


    Retainers Mawar, Bilal, and Bivran, I thought. Something has happened to them. Something she doesn¡¯t wish me to know. That was why she was so ready to tell me of Commander Virion Eralith¡¯s coma.


    Something like the Commander of the entire Triunion being sent into a coma couldn¡¯t be hidden for long, if at all¡ªespecially if the nature of the attacks were public. I¡¯d played a gambit to divest Viessa of more information, and it had both confirmed Toren¡¯s speculation of Tessia Eralith¡¯s importance, but also made everything all the more dangerous.


    Viessa is being given orders different from mine, I thought, standing slowly. Distantly, I was aware that Toren was looking at the dark crystal floor, his face marred by a complicated expression. Probably conversing with his bond. Orders directly from the High Sovereign. Is Agrona playing us against each other intentionally? Or is he going for something else?


    At the start of this war, Agrona had stated he required the Dicathian populace alive and healthy for his needs, but the massacres and genocides flooding across Sapin said otherwise. Had he changed his modus operandi? Or had the Lord of the Vritra always planned for such bloodshed?


    I sighed, recognizing the rabbit hole that those thoughts would lead down. One couldn¡¯t predict Agrona Vritra. It was fundamentally impossible.


    Not impossible, my blood whispered. You can. If you are willing to take that step.


    It had been resurging lately. More and more, as I let my masks fall. As Toren wore away the protections I¡¯d layered to keep the song of my blood contained, so too did that monster rise¡ªlike bubbles of rot in the flesh of a corpse.


    I spared a glance toward Cylrit, watching the stern face of my stalwart Retainer. Using it to give me strength: the strength to resist. He met my eyes, sensing the need. And as I traced the lines of Kelagon¡¯s old features, as I saw in my Retainer all that I once had been and fought against, I found the strength to quell that rising tumult in my veins.


    Thank you, Cylrit, I thought, but did not say. For keeping the worst of me contained. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Cylrit didn¡¯t hear me, of course. But in a way not unlike Toren, but also so very different, he seemed to be able to sense the intention behind my eyes. He nodded slowly, the barest twitch of his lips acknowledging how he¡¯d helped me.


    No, I couldn¡¯t predict Agrona. But I could adapt.


    And then Toren spoke up, his voice serious. ¡°This war is going to end soon,¡± he said. ¡°Without Commander Virion keeping the Triunion Council together, they¡¯ll tear each other apart. Brick by bloody brick, they¡¯ll become a mirror of what we¡¯ve seen in Darv.¡±


    I turned slowly, taking the time to drink in the features of the only other person I allowed close to my heart. He bore an expression so deeply complicated that I fought back the urge to chuckle with mirth.


    The news rattled him in a different way than I¡¯d suspected, however. The sadness I saw there wasn¡¯t entirely what I expected. I knew Toren sympathized with the Dicathian struggle, their futile resistance against their inevitable domination by our Sovereign. But what I saw in his features seemed too personal. As if the news of Virion Eralith¡¯s fall were not the news of an enemy combatant¡¯s defeat¡ªone you respected, but needed to break regardless. No, it was as if it were the news of a personal friend being hurt.


    He said he was able to heal Tessia Eralith through some connection to her soul, I mused. But all of Toren¡¯s aetheric magics require some level of harmony with his target. How can he know a Princess he¡¯s never met? Or a Commander of another continent?


    More delectable questions in the neverending puzzle that was my lover. For now, though, I pushed those thoughts aside.


    ¡°You are right, Toren. Our intel says that Commander Virion Eralith was all that kept the Council from tearing itself apart. Without him, they shall fall like¡­ dominoes,¡± I said, testing the word Toren had taught me. I thought it fitting. ¡°There is more that Viessa did not tell me, however, despite what I drew from her lips. I have the sense she feels like she lost more than she gained, and even as this short war draws to a close, there are things we must attend to.¡±


    Toren perked up at that, and I saw a glimmer of that vindictive, wry emotion burn behind his irises. ¡°The sentry-chain through the elven forest, where they tried to pierce the mists,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°It failed.¡±


    I blinked in genuine surprise at that, wondering how Toren had deduced such a fact. As I thought about it more, however, I found that it was plausible. The plans to thread a needle through the heart of Elshire were meticulous and carefully laid. Had been for months. But as far as I was aware, Toren had never been explicitly informed of the operation, nor how it worked.


    So why is he so certain that it failed? Does he have some sort of knowledge I don¡¯t?


    Yet as I remembered my conversation with him not long ago, where he explained the earthen concept of dominoes, I remembered that same flash in his eyes. That same self-satisfied expression, though far more prominent.


    A smile finally graced my lips as I put it together. ¡°Because you sabotaged it, then?¡± I said, tilting my head as I stared at Toren. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me you did this during your trip to the Beast Glades, Toren. You should have.¡±


    Toren simply scoffed. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything to sabotage the sentries during my time here on Dicathen,¡± he countered easily. ¡°And if I did, I would have told you.¡±


    I focused in on his strange wording, no doubt intentional. He didn¡¯t do anything to sabotage them on Dicathen. I felt my satisfaction at piecing something together rise slightly. More puzzles. Always more puzzles. But that is what makes it fun.


    I shook my head. ¡°Regardless, we know too little as of now. More information will come soon, I have no doubt, but this only reaffirms our planned push into Vildorial. With the Council on its deathbed and my troops ready, taking the Darvish capital, and by extension, the entire land of the dwarves¨Cshould prove far easier. It will only serve to drive the nails of crucifixion deeper into this continent¡¯s morale.¡±


    The High Sovereign¡¯s terror attacks on the people of Sapin were making my task of integration more difficult¨Cbut I¡¯d already started threading the narrative through my spies that there were two separate Alacryan leaders. One benevolent and merciful; one cruel and vindictive. I could use these deaths to my advantage. If Agrona would make Viessa Vritra a reaping Scythe that harvested all the lives in her path, then I could present myself as the savior. The benevolent enemy.


    He makes a stick of her, so I shall be the carrot, I thought darkly. I must adapt. Always adapt.


    And with the upcoming capture of Vildorial, I wondered how long the Council could truly remain together. They would be setting out in less than a day¡¯s time to complete their mission, and each successive blow would be like the ringing of a hangman¡¯s bell. I would capitalize on Viessa¡¯s momentum.


    But there was more that needed to be done. As I cycled through plan after plan after plan, I finally turned to observe Toren in full. Sensing my attention, he straightened slightly, still wearing eyes that cared far too much for an enemy to be logical.


    ¡°You said that Elder Rahdeas bore a message from Mordain Asclepius related to the deaths,¡± I finally said. ¡°Does this mean the Hearth is ready to enter this war? To intervene to stop our advance?¡±


    If there was one thing that could throw my plans into disarray, it was the phoenixes of the Asclepius Clan, deep in the Beast Glades. But also¡­


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Toren shook his head slowly. ¡°No, I do not think so,¡± he said. ¡°Mordain is an isolationist. Has been for centuries. The message he sent to me was¡­ personal. But¨C¡±


    Toren¡¯s head turned to the door, his stance shifting perceptibly to one of a threatened predator. Belatedly, I sensed the thrum of mana as well as it approached.


    A familiar signature.


    A solid, heavy knock echoed on the doors. A single stroke that made Toren tense.


    ¡°I have news, Lord Spellsong,¡± Elder Rahdeas¡¯ voice called. ¡°I think y¡¯all would like to hear it.¡±


    I shared a glance with Toren. He nodded slowly.


    At a wordless gesture to Cylrit, I gave the Retainer my permission. Cylrit moved toward the door, before opening it with a stiff, intimidating pull.


    Elder Rahdeas stood at the entrance of my doorway, staring emptily inward. He didn¡¯t focus on me, instead looking at Toren. Past and through him, in a way that reminded me of the broken things in the depths of Taegrin Caelum. ¡°I have a message, Toren Daen,¡± he said, completely ignoring the wall of dark metal that was Cylrit.


    ¡°Is it the same message you gave me last time, Elder?¡± Toren said back, his voice calmer by force of will. ¡°Because that wasn¡¯t a message. That was a knife.¡±


    Rahdeas chuckled, then sauntered into my rooms without care. I was quietly fascinated by the dwarf¡¯s utter lack of survival instinct as Cylrit¡¯s aura flared behind him, suffocating enough to break nearly any mage on this continent. But Rahdeas wasn¡¯t really there to even feel it. He was flesh and bone, to be certain, but his mind was elsewhere.


    ¡°You know, there was a time when the voices never made sense,¡± Rahdeas said. ¡°When they all rambled and spoke of shadows on the wall. That told me of illusions I could see but also couldn¡¯t. Of breaks in my perception.¡±


    Rahdeas set himself down slowly on the edge of my chaise lounge, which served to heighten my irritation. But I restrained myself, watching the exchange between the man I called my own and the addled dwarf.


    ¡°But then one of the voices¡­ It started makin¡¯ sense, ya see. Started saying things that were too clear. Too consistent, ya understand? And all the others would change and grow and warp, but this one was always warm. Tellin¡¯ me secrets. I didn¡¯t listen to the others. But I gave this one a chance.¡±


    Toren¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°And this voice told you to print those pictures? Told you to write that final message at the back?¡±


    Rahdeas only chortled. ¡°It¡¯s a voice in my head, Spellsong,¡± he said back. ¡°Followin¡¯ it would be what a madman does. But regardless, what do you think of it? It was an interesting statement, to be certain. Are ya willin¡¯ to pay those prices? There will be more numbers.¡±


    Toren¡¯s hands clenched, and his aura warped. ¡°I¡¯ve resolved myself to do what I need to change this world,¡± he countered heatedly. ¡°I have the power to do so, Rahdeas. It is the burden of that knowledge to use it.¡±


    ¡°I thought the same, young fire,¡± Rahdeas said sadly. ¡°Before I saw the truth. That doin¡¯ what ya think needs to be done only breaks you.¡±


    ¡°If I break, Rahdeas,¡± Toren said after a moment, ¡°I won¡¯t look like you. I won¡¯t become you.¡±


    Rahdeas laughed. It was an empty, maddened sound. The sound of the inmate who thought he knew all in the world, but nobody else could see. ¡°The Lost Prince beckons for you, Toren Daen of the Asclepius,¡± he said after he quieted down. ¡°The Hearth calls you home.¡±


    I watched, perplexed, as the addled dwarf pushed himself to his swaying feet. He gave Toren a meager salute, then turned around, stumbling back the way he¡¯d come as if he had never seen me or Cylrit at all¨Conly Toren. As Rahdeas went, he whistled a tune I distantly recognized.


    And Toren? He watched Rahdeas go with hard, hard eyes, fire sputtering around his fingers.


    ¡°It appears that there is more to the madman than meets the eye,¡± I eventually said. ¡°And you have finally received your summons, Toren. Summons to the Hearth.¡±


    Toren didn¡¯t respond. Only stared at the door as Cylrit closed it, unwilling to answer me.


    ¡°Toren,¡± I started.


    He turned to look at me, and I felt the distinctive urge to take a step back. I hadn¡¯t been able to see it¡ªnot in full, as he faced the dwarven elder. But there was a churning, raging wildfire buried deep in his soul that felt hot. That felt like it would burn me, too, if I stared too long. Inadvertently, I flinched backward, feeling as if I¡¯d touched something I shouldn¡¯t have. And at the same time, his intent was suffocatingly hot. Choking and cloying, like the heat of a desert sun. His heartbeat pulsed almost audibly through the waves of mana he was letting off.


    The look on my face must have been particularly dire, because I could sense the effect of Toren¡¯s mana in the air as it shriveled inward. He took a deep, calming breath as he forced himself not to glare.


    I do not believe I have ever seen him so¡­ so angry, I thought with surprise. Toren was a star, to be sure, but he was always the morning star. The cozy light of dawn as it misted through the trees. But for the first time, I saw the supernova as it churned beneath the surface.


    What did Rahdeas say, I thought, feeling my reservations at approaching Toren, that could push him to such anger?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Seris,¡± Toren finally said. ¡°I lost control. Again.¡±


    I kept my distance for a moment, fearing that I might get burned should I approach. But I forced myself to think rationally.


    I approached, maintaining a scance few feet between us. ¡°The Hearth has called for you, Toren,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Will you answer the call?¡±


    Toren looked between me and Cylrit, his jaw working. ¡°I need to, Seris,¡± he finally said. ¡°I have a brother there¨Canother one. One who will gladly fight against the injustices of the world. And I need to know more of my powers. Of the Soul and what Heartfire truly is. And Mordain¡­ Mordain has a gift, Seris. A gift that can¡¯t be ignored. I don¡¯t dare ignore his call.¡±


    I worked this through my mind. I could probably afford Toren¡¯s absence for a time, though some plans would have to be put on hold. But more importantly¡­


    I watched out of the side of my eye as the clockwork relic that contained Lady Dawn¡¯s mind slowly unfurled from Toren¡¯s breast. It glowed white hot for a moment, before settling into the shape and form of a sparrow.


    ¡°We will go to the Hearth, Scythe of Sehz-Clar,¡± Aurora Asclepius¡¯ mechanical container said. ¡°Know this shall happen regardless of your wishes. But we will not go without purpose.¡±


    I stared at the burning eyes of the little construct for a time. I knew that Toren¡¯s bond, Aurora Asclepius, disliked how I saw her family as tools to further my agenda. Another piece on the board. But regardless of the dead phoenix¡¯s thoughts, I needed to voice my questions.


    ¡°Can you call the phoenixes to banner?¡± I finally pressed, looking between Toren and his clockwork puppet. ¡°Can you influence them, Aurora Asclepius? Can you draw them into this war?¡±


    Aurora¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°For what purpose must I bring my family into harm¡¯s way, Scythe?¡± she said sharply. ¡°If you wish to push and prod at all those I hold dear within my clan, Seris Vritra, I demand a reason.¡±


    My expression settled into something impassive as I stared down at the bird. It stared back.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± Toren said slowly, looking to his side where the true manifestation of the phoenix no doubt stood, ¡°we know what she plans to do. We know the cause she works toward; the purpose she needs to fulfill. I cannot think of a reason why the Hearth should not be brought into it. To help better this world.¡±


    ¡°I wish to hear her speak the words, Toren,¡± the phoenix who haunted my lover¡¯s steps replied. ¡°She is of Agrona¡¯s blood. She speaks in half-truths and riddles. She wishes for us to put my family in more mortal danger than they have experienced in millennia.¡± The clockwork sparrow¡¯s eyes flashed, and I sensed Cylrit as he slowly shifted to stand at my back in silent support. ¡°I will have her word. Her oath on what their blood is worth.¡±


    Whatever reply Toren had on his lips, it died as the whirring of dawnlight steam echoed into the still air.


    Indeed, the ghost wished for the lives of her clanmates to have a purpose, to have meaning.


    And as I quietly deliberated in the still room, I found myself flashing back to the first time I had truly understood the breadth of Agrona¡¯s plans. When I had battled with my blood inside, and found my humanity triumphed. Where I¡¯d recognized what would become of this world should Agrona and Kezess have their way.


    My endgame had always been to let the two tyrants throw themselves at each other. They would annihilate each other in mutually assured destruction, for no lesser being could match blades with an asura.


    But these past few weeks, as the truth of the Hearth had settled into my blood, I¡¯d found another, brilliant flare of hope in Toren.


    There was a chance¨Chowever slim¨Cthat the lessers of Alacrya could field warriors capable of snuffing out the Vritra clan. Maybe not entirely, and there would always be dangers. But the very prospect of a clan of asura capable of fighting the basilisks¨Cwilling to fight the basilisks, and not from under Kezess Indrath¡¯s tyrannical boot¨Cwas more captivating than nearly anything else.


    But all it would take¡­ All it would take was for me to say the words. I¡¯d promised as much to Toren, if in spirit. But as I stared down at the phoenix, I felt it strangely difficult to muster the courage.


    I worked my jaw, my eyes flicking to Toren¡¯s, then away. I opened my mouth, then closed it again as I failed to find the right thing to say.


    Toren reached out a hand, laying it comfortingly on my shoulder as he no doubt sensed my inner turmoil. The warmth of it helped. Helped center me.


    You released your shackles during the Aurora Constellate, I reminded myself. You are as free as you can be, this far from your gods. It is only a few words.


    I exhaled, then stared at the location where I knew Aurora Asclepius¡¯ haunting form stood. ¡°I wish to draw your family into the bloodiest conflict the asura have seen for an age,¡± I said honestly. Such searing honesty. ¡°If you do as I wish, they will die and be torn apart by Wraith and by Sovereign¨Call in the service of something many would call worthless. Because one day, I will bring war to the Vritra, Aurora Asclepius. I bring them war for the atrocities they have committed, and the lives they snuff under their boots.¡±


    I took Toren¡¯s hand, then gently removed it from my shoulder as I found the strength to stand taller. Saying the words I¡¯d kept leashed for so many decades left me feeling oddly weightless, yet when I checked once more, my boots still kissed the ground. ¡°I ask your clan to die fighting the Vritra. I beg their aid, Lady Dawn, because no other will give our people succor.¡±

 Chapter 247: Manaborne

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    The dragon of ice approached with raging fury, a hurricane of winter wind trailing in its wake. Off-balanced as I was from the previous attack, it was poised to swallow me whole. In its sheer blue eyes, I almost imagined a level of intelligence. The bitter apathy of the unending cold.


    I didn¡¯t let it intimidate me. As I called on the acclorite in my blood, I demanded my form to change.


    It happened quickly¨Cfar faster than when I¡¯d first discovered this ability. My normal flesh and bones shifted as I became the air itself, a tempest leashed into human form. My perspective of the mana in the atmosphere shifted as the green motes of wind mana became far, far more prominent. My sense for the yellow earth mana bled away entirely, as if I¡¯d never borne the affinity in the first place.


    But as I became windborne, paths first thought impossible and indecipherable opened themselves up to me. The wind mana itself showed me currents along which I could flow and travel, like a calm spring breeze. And as the pale skin of my flesh became a translucent green, I could almost imagine myself drifting away, free and untethered. Purple particles of aether lashed each of the green particles of wind mana together like a king¡¯s subjects.


    The ambient wind mana moved me away from Lance Varay¡¯s attack as I dodged with aerial grace. I slid under and over her massive conjuration of ice magic, lashing out with blades of wind to cut away at her construct.


    The winds told me in their strange whispers of the next attack that came my way. A whirling thunderstorm of snapping electric tendrils surged unerringly toward my airborne person. And not just this one: there was another attack heading my way as well. A gale of black fire churned silently as it tried to intercept me from another end.


    Immediately, I recognized the danger of both attacks. In my windborne form, I was more susceptible to lighting and fire. Which was likely the plan of my sparring partners, and why they¡¯d tried to push me into this position in the first place.


    I didn¡¯t really have blood that could thunder in my ears, but I imagined it anyways as I let the windborne form drift away. My senses returned, my awareness of all four types of ambient mana evening out again as I disengaged. But just before the storm of electricity and curtain of hellfire struck me like a pincer attack, I called on the earth mana all around.


    And in an instant, I was stone. Tough, durable, and unrelenting. My body felt stiff and coarse as I slowly braced in the air, certain in my defense. After all, that was the essence of earth mana itself. To be unmoving and inviolable.


    I lethargically raised a hand to the side that faced the black fire, commanding the mana in the atmosphere. A gauntlet of fire and stone arose to face the unerring curtain of darkness.


    And then the silent black fire and the angry thunderstorm crashed in on me from opposing sides. Electricity skittered harmlessly across my earthen form, chipping bits of rock from my skin and making little flakes of dust tumble away into the arena below. The black fire, however, proved far more difficult to resist. It weathered and ate away at my stalwart protections, consuming them for fuel and growing ever stronger. Even as I called on the fire and earth mana to create a protective ward, I could feel those dark tendrils quickly growing in threatening potency.


    I ground my granite teeth as I held strong against the twin spells, each trying to break me down. I could distantly perceive the mana of Lance Varay¡¯s ice dragon as it wheeled, preparing to dive headfirst toward me and finally shatter my defense.


    I wouldn¡¯t let it.


    I called on the aether around me, feeling the tremble in the atmosphere as the weapon of my blood encroached on Sylv¡¯s bond. The black fire weakened slightly in its bombardment as my dragon recognized what I was about to do.


    ¡°Lance Bairon, on your two oclo¨C¡± Sylvie started, but I¡¯d already stepped forward.


    The world shifted as I engaged Warp Step, leaving the tempest of raging mana behind. The sudden change in sound as I left the growing clash of electricity and black fire might have been jarring any other time, but it was hard to surprise stone.


    I emerged in front of Bairon Wykes, steaming and popping with energy. The Lance¡¯s face was beaded with sweat as he tried to keep up his barrage. Even with his version of Thunderclap Impulse across his nerves, he was slow to notice me.


    My earthborne form slowed me tremendously¡ªbut I was still faster than my foe. Bairon tried to backpedal as he saw my strike coming like the unrelenting drive of a train, but quick calls to the ambient mana saw his feet lashed and bound by stone.


    My blow struck him solidly in the sternum, making his ribs tremble and creak. I might have taken pleasure in it once, the expression of pain and anger on his face as I rattled his mana core. But as he flew backward, certainly out of the fight for this sparring session, the unbothered earth kept me static.


    Lance Varay blurred toward me next, encased in her Ice Ninja form as she tried to shift tactics. But I¡¯d improved drastically in these past few weeks of battle. My earthborne form bled away, quickly replaced by windborne once more.


    I easily flowed around each of the Lance¡¯s glittering attacks and conjurations of mana. She held dual blades of ice that she used to try and reap my blood¡ªmana?¨C-but with the grace of a bird on the wing, I flowed around and through each one. Little explosive grenades of ice crystals burst and popped around me, trying to spray me with shards of reflective glass, but conjured walls of wind and fire washed them away, steam sizzling around us as I pressed Varay backward.


    Even as I casually dominated Lance Zero in close quarters, her eyes remained cold. Apathetic. Sweat froze on her skin as I slipped around a blurring strike, before absently slamming a fist¨Ccoated in fire and woven through with electricity¨Cinto her stomach.


    Her barriers of ice cracked, and the lightning seeped through, causing her body to seize spasmodically as the tendrils brushed against her neurons.


    Sensing an opportunity, I flowed forward, sweeping Varay¡¯s ice-laden legs out from under her. Before she could hit the ground, I spun with the wind, using the momentum to generate a gale that sent her hurtling toward her returning ice dragon spell.


    As she went, I threw bolts of lightning-wrapped fire, accelerating them onward with wind magic. Varay haphazardly conjured little shields of reflective ice to try and staunch the assault, but that left her wide open to the returning maws of her ice dragon.


    They collided in a cacophonous crash that shook the castle grounds. At the same time, I Warp Stepped, evading another barrage of black fire.


    I emerged to the side, staring up at Sylvie where she hovered in the air, the wheat locks of her human form sifting in the winds. I could sense over our bond¨Cmuted as it was for this sparring session¨Cthat she wasn¡¯t truly exerting herself yet, same as I. Yet this castle was too restrictive for us to truly go all out, to really test our abilities.


    ¡°Well,¡± Gideon¡¯s voice said gruffly over the loudspeaker, ¡°that was a whole lot of nothing. Sparring¡¯s over. You can stop trying to beat each other into the dirt, now¨Cbecause you¡¯ve so thankfully made decades¡¯ worth of mana progress obsolete! Again!¡±


    I let out a breath as I disengaged from my windborne form, my translucent, greenish skin returning to my normal, healthy tone. My sense of the atmosphere around me shrank back inward, cutting off the freeing feel of the air.


    But in turn, I could also feel the ground again.


    Sylvie slowly lowered to the base of the training room, her brows furrowed slightly as she shared a few of her thoughts with me. I sighed aloud, my long auburn hair drifting in front of my face.


    I know, Sylv, I thought back. It isn¡¯t enough.


    A ways away, Varay pulled herself from the wreckage of her ice dragon. She maintained her layer of icy apathy as she straightened, her cool eyes flicking to the side. Bairon snarled as he wrenched himself from the wreckage of the wall, glaring at me hatefully, his fingers twitching with crackling electricity.


    I ignored it. The current state of the war washed away former feuds and grudges. I didn¡¯t have time for petty rivalries when every other day was spent endlessly scouring the continent, always on the lookout for more dead. For more massacres.


    The human Lance forcefully put his hair into a neat part, then stalked away with barely contained rage. He gnashed his teeth as I watched, feeling disappointed in what he could bring.


    ¡°I was once the strongest of us,¡± Varay¡¯s even voice said from the side. ¡°But today, I remembered what it was like to wield a blade for the first time. Though this spar has been enlightening for me, I wonder what good it will serve for you, Lance Godspell.¡±


    Sylvie turned away, suppressing a mask of slight guilt as Varay practically spoke her own thoughts. I¡¯d limited myself to using only my windborne and earthborne forms¡ªthe weakest and least practiced of my elements. Furthermore, I restricted the use of Dawn¡¯s Ballad. I bore no blade as I sparred with Bairon and Varay. And yet, even with those handicaps, it had been a simple affair to pick apart the white core mages.


    ¡°Your strength is still needed, Lance Varay,¡± I said, offering her a solemn smile. ¡±My strength may be growing yet, but I am one man. One mage. This war isn¡¯t won by singular mages.¡±


    The ice-cold Lance nodded sharply, but I could tell my words did little to quiet her reservations. Each and every mage the Council could employ was feeling the strain of our constant missions and battles against the beasts ravaging Sapin¡¯s countryside. Even as the citizens of Sapin were encouraged to flock toward the more populated cities for protection, we still found ourselves spread thin.


    I wasn¡¯t the only one lamenting my lack of power.


    Thoughts of my last conversation with my father welled up like magma from a trench, but I refused to let those thought find purchase. I compressed them back down, suppressing everything that risked throwing me off my point.


    I turned to the side as Gideon stomped forward, bags under his eyes and the usual crazed glimmer in his eye. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have some sort of magical idea to detect and read absurdly subtle fluctuations of mana inside that overly-big head of yours, would you?¡± he ground out, his greasy hair popping up in frizzles. ¡°Because this entire thing was pointless if not! I couldn¡¯t catch a thing of those strange forms of yours. It was like they didn¡¯t even register to the sensors in the ground.¡±


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    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± I admitted, scratching the back of my head as I stared at Sylvie. ¡°I think if we need more training, we¡¯ll have to do it outside the castle.¡±


    ¡°Maybe in the Darvish wastes,¡± Sylvie said helpfully, only partially joking. My draconic bond was still uncertain about her ability to really keep control of her dark, Vritra-coded powers. ¡°There isn¡¯t much to destroy on the surface there.¡±


    Gideon huffed in annoyance at the mention of Darv. ¡°The Council should have left me in Vildorial. I was doing good work! But noooo, they thought the city was under threat. I was close to a breakthrough with the fire salts, I tell you. But they didn¡¯t want to listen,¡± he exclaimed, throwing up his arms.


    ¡°If by breakthrough, you meant intermittent explosions and shrapnel every five hours of the day,¡± Emily Watsken said as she approached, ¡°then yes, you were about to have a breakthrough.¡±


    As Gideon devolved into irritated mumbling and lamentations of the Council¡¯s foolishness, Emily focused on Sylvie and me, her eyes uncertain behind her glasses. Her green hair shadowed much of her face. ¡°Did you figure anything out about those new abilities of yours?¡± she pressed, fidgeting slightly. ¡°Gideon was right; we did struggle to get concrete readings. I know you asked, but¡­¡±


    I sighed. The abilities of my manifested weapon were unique and many-faceted. When I embodied each element, making myself an amalgamation of fire, water, earth, or wind, it became infinitely easier to sense and manipulate said element, but I also lost every ability to sense and utilize the opposing element and their deviations. The aether that coursed through the acclorite in my blood served to bind it all together in one cohesive whole.


    ¡°I noticed that my thoughts and emotions are affected by each manaborne form,¡± I said after a minute of thinking. ¡°When I embody wind, part of me seems to really think I¡¯m the summer breeze. And when I become the stone, I wouldn¡¯t mind sitting and meditating like a boulder for an eternity.¡±


    Emily whipped out a notepad and began quickly jotting these things down as I said them. Sylvie moved off to the side, working with Varay to clear away the aftermath of our spar with controlled bursts of conjured black fire, while the human Lance worked to ensure that the dark flames wouldn¡¯t spread out of control.


    This was Sylvie¡¯s training, in a way. To ensure she could maintain a grip on the decaying and devouring nature of her spells, she made certain to wash away the traces of our battles the best she could in small, incremental steps.


    I slowly outlined the strange effects of each form to Emily. How I felt more emotional and passionate when fireborne, filled with a desire to move and explode and strike. The graceful movements of waterborne were similar to those of windborne, but not the same. How I felt cool and tranquil, able to be still and silent.


    Despite the caustic words he¡¯d thrown earlier, Gideon watched with rapt attention as Emily continued to scribble down her notes.


    ¡°Say, brat,¡± he said, pointing a finger at my mana core, ¡°you said you lost that Realmheart form of yours when you nearly killed yourself for the dozenth time. You told us way back when that it gave you a burst of insight into mana, which was how you were able to manipulate it to the ninety-ninth percentile.¡± His eyes narrowed, a true scientist¡¯s gleam there despite his bedraggled appearance. ¡°Is this the same? You¡¯re able to influence the ambient mana in an absurd and unparalleled way with these ¡®manaborne¡¯ forms of yours.¡±


    I blinked, surprised by this avenue of questioning, then furrowed my brows. I watched as Sylvie continued to work to burn away linkering spikes of earth and ice that littered the too-small training room, focusing on the flickering black fire between her palms.


    ¡°No,¡± I said after a minute, recalling the overarching presence of Realmheart¡¯s insights as they scoured through my veins. ¡°When I used Realmheart, it was as if I was looking at all the mana from above. I was¡­ larger than the mana. I could see from outside the cup, I guess. I could see from the perspective of one unburdened by it all.¡±


    I felt my expression darken as I compared the two states, saying each word as it came to me. ¡°But these forms¡­ I¡¯m not above the mana. Not beyond it, like I was with Realmheart. It¡¯s like¡­ it¡¯s like I am the mana when I use them. I see from the perspective of fire. From the viewpoint of earth and wind. And I know the thoughts of water,¡± I finished, feeling slightly embarrassed by the pseudo-philosophical words I put to it all.


    I had far greater insight into each individual element when using my manaborne forms compared to Realmheart, but that came at the cost of losing an entire affinity as well as no strengthening of my other powers. Overall, I couldn¡¯t be certain it was a worthy tradeoff.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think like that, Arthur,¡± Sylvie chastised over our bond. ¡°You have the tools you need. A path for growing stronger with your strange influence over aether and your call to the mana. We just need the time and space to grow.¡±


    I know, Sylv, I thought darkly, images of the past dozen battles I¡¯d had with offshoots of the beast horde as it spread through Sapin, but it just feels like it¡¯s not enough. Like it¡¯s never enough.


    Sylvie finally returned, looking down at her hands. I could feel a bit of her trepidation as she did so, uncomfortable with the concept of these decaying fires bending to her will. After all, her aetheric path was vivum. She was a healer. Yet her new powers seemed fundamentally opposed to healing entirely.


    It was ironic. She had partially broken past the seal her mother placed on her, but it led in an entirely different direction than what she desired.


    ¡°There is a path here,¡± she thought to me, almost quietly. a smattering of dark soulfire appearing between her fingers. ¡°Insight that connects my powers, Arthur. It scares me. What I might be able to do. A healer, but¡­ not.¡±


    Gideon and Emily both watched the flickering flames in Sylvie¡¯s hands with a level of healthy caution, unwilling to get too close. Even Varay showed wariness, keeping a distance from the abnormally silent fire.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get to tallying all these numbers,¡± Gideon said gruffly as he began to move away, muttering something under his breath. ¡°Always more problems you present me with, boy! Damn you and your intrigues.¡±


    Emily trailed nervously behind her master, shooting us apologies as she tried to get him to listen to something about a schedule. Varay wasn¡¯t long behind, giving both Sylvie and me a look I couldn¡¯t fully decipher.


    And finally, we were alone in the training hall. I allowed my bond¡¯s earlier worries to filter through my head as I tried to find the right thing to say.


    It¡¯s not easy, I know, I thought to my bond, walking over and laying a hand on her shoulder. No others would close that distance. But I¡¯ll help in any way I can. There are¨C


    I turned my head in surprise as I felt a familiar mana signature approaching, my internal thoughts falling away. It was surprisingly strong¡ªfar stronger than I expected it to be. But I also could sense the grim, turbulent aura trailing in its wake.


    I felt a knot grow in my chest as the mana signature drew closer and closer. Sylvie sensed it too, her eyes widening and a smile finally banishing her earlier consternation. I felt a slight smile of my own grow in response at how giddy my bond became¨Cliterally bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation that slowly swelled like a balloon.


    Even with the foreboding aura that followed after the familiar signature, it was hard not to feel a measure of contentment as Sylvie¡¯s eyes sparkled.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s been so long,¡± Sylv said excitedly, seeming torn between staying at my side and blurring over to the edge of the room to await the new arrival. ¡°Quick, Arthur! Do you think she¡¯ll recognize me? She has to, right?¡± my bond said, blinking up at me as she gripped my hand tightly.


    If I were to tell anyone that the anxious teenage girl right beside me was a mighty dragon, granddaughter of the most powerful being in this world, and part-time fox-shifter, I thought with wry amusement, then they¡¯d tell me to eat my shoe.


    Tessia finally appeared at the edge of the training room¡ªand I immediately felt my rising good mood vanish. My childhood friend¡¯s clothes were covered in innumerable cuts and scrapes, the once intricate garment torn to shreds. Her face was covered in a smattering of dirt and blood, and her gunmetal gray hair was mussed and windswept.


    Her turquoise eyes were hard. Far, far too hard.


    She paused at the edge of the training room as she observed the barebones landscape. But before she could even focus on me, Sylvie was already rushing for her on swift steps.


    On apparent instinct, Tessia shifted her stance, her hands twitching as if under threat as she focused on Sylv¡¯s approach.


    Oh, no, I thought grimly, recognizing the signs of battle shock from two lifetimes of experience. She¡¯s just left a fight. Her mind is still there, but she shouldn¡¯t have been battling at all. Not in Zestier.


    Sylvie slowed abruptly, shifting in confusion as she saw Tess¡¯ wary look. ¡°Oh¡­ Tessia? It¡¯s me. It¡¯s Sylvie. I broke part of my mother¡¯s seal, so I can take a human form now! I should¡¯ve said something, of course, but¨C¡±


    Sylvie cut off abruptly as Tess hugged her¡ªhugged her hard. I slowly approached as worry began to seep in from everywhere at once, my mind working to try and piece this together.


    My bond returned the hug with genuine warmth. Despite the absolute crushing grip Tess held her in, she didn¡¯t show any discomfort as she held my childhood friend. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Tessia,¡± my bond whispered softly as I finally reached them. ¡°It¡¯s okay. I¡¯m here.¡±


    It was with surprise that I noticed glimmering tears streaking down Tessia¡¯s dirt-stained cheeks. Her eyes were shut tight as she buried her face in Sylvie¡¯s shoulder, bits of blood and dust grinding into Sylvie¡¯s dark dress as she held on as if there were nothing else in the world.


    I finally came to a stop at Sylvie¡¯s side. I felt tempted to reach out a comforting arm and rub circles on Tessia¡¯s back¡ªlike I used to do whenever she wept long ago in our youth on the borders of the Elshire Forest¡ªbut I hesitated.


    Tess sniffled, finally pulling herself away from my bond as she took a few deep breaths. Sylvie was slightly taller than my childhood friend, but Tessia looked older. I couldn¡¯t tell if that was because of her actual features or the look she had in her eye. The set of her jaw and the dullness in her cheeks.


    The Princess of Elenoir looked at Sylvie¡ªreally looked at her. Then she turned to me, doing the same.


    I felt exposed. ¡°Hey, Tess,¡± I said awkwardly, resisting the urge to scratch the back of my neck. Instead, I diverted my attention, looking her up and down and noting the many patches of blood and debris clinging to her. She truly appeared as if she¡¯d rushed straight from battle. The scent of it clung to her. I felt the urge to poke and prod at the tears in her dress, looking for wounds. I hadn¡¯t even known she¡¯d been in any sort of danger. ¡°Are you injured anywhere? Do you need healing for whatever happened? I can¨C¡±


    Tess¡¯ eyes didn¡¯t waver. ¡°When were you going to tell me?¡± she asked in a soft voice.


    The question I¡¯d always feared.


    My words died in my throat as I fished for something to say, my thoughts beginning to spin as I tried uselessly to come up with an answer that would satisfy her question. That didn¡¯t show how selfish I was, and¨C


    Tess looked back down to Sylvie, her brow creasing slightly. ¡°You told me a while ago that you were expecting Sylvie to awaken soon. Something about the mana in Uto¡¯s horn.¡± She peered at me from behind shadowed bangs of deepest silver. ¡°You should have sent a message. Sent a word of some kind, Art. About something so¡­ world-changing.¡±


    Sylvie detached from Tess as we stared at each other, the young asura sensing the unspoken conversation between us.


    Because I had given my answer to Tess¡¯ question. The true question that she¡¯d asked beneath the veneer of Sylvie¡¯s human form.


    And I¡¯d answered it with my silence. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I only gained this form a few weeks ago,¡± Sylvie said slowly, sensing¡ªand no doubt understanding¡ªthe tension between us. ¡°Almost every day, Arthur and I have been on the wing, though, searching for mana beasts across Sapin. He hasn¡¯t had the chance to do much else, Tessia. Nothing but train, and fight, and¡­¡±


    Sylvie shook her head sharply, her locks swaying. ¡°I can sense that you aren¡¯t hurt, Tessia,¡± she said calmly, ¡°but there¡¯s something more. We didn¡¯t know about any battle you could¡¯ve been in, but you look like you¡¯ve gone through half a dozen dungeons without even stopping to change.¡±


    Tess looked at Sylvie, her eyes welling up with sorrowful tears once more. Her lip trembled, but when she spoke, no tears fell and her words were like iron. ¡°The Alacryans,¡± she said. ¡°they attacked Zestier, and Grandpa won¡¯t wake up.¡±

 Chapter 248: The Once and Future

    Chapter 248: The Once and Future


    Arthur Leywin


    Tessia didn¡¯t explain anything more, despite my pushes and protests. She simply turned, telling me that the Council was being gathered. What members could be gathered.


    The next few minutes were a whirl of activity and slowly rising panic as questions churned in the back of my mind.


    We were silent as Sylvie, Tess, and I marched toward the council room like convicts approaching the guillotine. The fact that the Alacryans had somehow attacked Tess and Gramps in the heart of the elven forest wasn¡¯t lost on me. The implications of it all¨Cnot just of the fact that Virion was somehow comatose, for reasons that hadn¡¯t been explained to me yet¨Cswam through my head as I gritted my teeth.


    Sylvie held Tessia¡¯s hand as we walked, taking on the role of an older sister as she gave my childhood friend something to use to anchor herself. Tessia didn¡¯t squeeze her hand back, but neither did she take it away.


    The large, embellished doors of the council room stood like beckoning gates to a doomed trial. Though the golden filigree and ornate symbols on the doors usually evoked a sense of grandeur and impossible size, now they only seemed to mock our antlike forms for daring to approach.


    Yet Tessia didn¡¯t hesitate as she reached the doors. She gently pulled her hand from Sylvie¡¯s, then pushed open the door.


    And as the council room revealed itself to me, my earlier statement only became more certain.


    An aura of death pervaded every person in sight, clinging to their skin and making their cheeks hollow. The former king and queen Glayder both sat limply in their seats, looking as if they were already corpses. Across from them, Alduin Eralith¡¯s cheeks were stained wet with tears.


    His wife was not by his side. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The only councilmember who didn¡¯t appear to have the life drained from them in some sort of vivum spell was Elder Buhndemog Lonuid. He alone stood, his overly muscled form tense and agitated. He glared down at the table, though, unwilling to voice a word.


    It was deadly silent as Tessia led me inside. Aya Grephin refused to look in our direction from where she stood behind Alduin, and Varay¡¯s eyes were even icier than usual. Even Bairon Wykes appeared unsettled, his expression darkened by indecipherable emotion.


    Aya is here, I immediately noted, and Merial Eralith is not.


    The attention of all present slowly shifted to my childhood friend as she marched into the room. Solemn and tear-red eyes honed in on her, each whispering quiet despair and condemnation.


    Normally, I would sit by the council table whenever I took part in the meetings. But right now, with the stares of the most powerful people in the continent quietly demanding some sort of divine message from my childhood friend, I felt I couldn¡¯t leave.


    Sensing my quiet decision, Sylvie moved to Tessia¡¯s left, hoping to bolster the elven princess with her presence. In turn, I stood on her right, hoping that I was welcome. Even if I had¡­ lied with my silence, I knew the elven princess well enough to understand what must be going through her mind right now.


    I was already starting to put together the pieces, Grey¡¯s analytical mind churning like clockwork in the back of my head. Lance Aya¡¯s uniform was battered and worn¨Cnot as truly decimated as Tessia¡¯s was. But her mana signature still showed signs of quiet exhaustion like Tess¡¯. The shame in her normally glassy eyes was haunting as she refused to look down at the elven princess.


    And Merial wasn¡¯t here, while Alduin wept.


    Somehow, Zestier had been attacked. Merial, Virion, and Tess had fought, and only one emerged whole.


    ¡°Well, lass,¡± Elder Buhnd said gruffly, resting his tree-trunk thick arms on the table as he leaned forward, ¡°I heard ya¡¯ve got some bad news for us. We¡¯ve all heard a little of it, but better to show the broken pickaxe than keep usin¡¯ it.¡±


    Tess raised a hand, brushing her hair to the side to retain a modicum of order. She shifted her stance as she stared up at the council, slowly beginning to look more like the regal princess I knew once more.


    ¡°Three hours ago, three Alacryan infiltrators managed to pierce the veil of Elshire mist protecting our capital, Zestier,¡± she said sharply, turning up her chin in solemn resolve. Her gemstone eyes passed over the entire council. ¡°Two Retainers and another Vritra.¡±


    The council listened with rapt attention and rising horror as Tess recounted the attack with the precision of a soldier delivering an after-battle report. My mood darkened into smoldering pitch the longer the tale went on, but the councilmembers were growing more and more agitated by the second. Alduin in particular no longer sat in his chair. He paced back and forth as his daughter told him of her battle with the tree-melding Vritra.


    ¡°Councilwoman Merial was wounded in an effort to protect the teleportation gates,¡± Tess said succinctly. ¡°She is receiving care from the best emitters in Zestier, but it is because of her actions that the entire teleportation network in Elenoir remains uncompromised.¡±


    There was no wavering in Tess¡¯ voice. No tremble in her lips¡ªsomething I found astonishing.


    She had grown strong.


    ¡°But you killed the one who did this,¡± Alduin whispered, though it somehow felt like a scream. From the slump of the former monarch¡¯s shoulders, I felt that he wanted to yell. That he wanted to shout. But he didn¡¯t have the strength. ¡°They can¡¯t pierce our veils anymore, can they?¡±


    ¡°I slew Bivran in battle,¡± Tess said with an aura of stone, so unlike the young girl I used to know. ¡°But despite my victory, there were still wounded.¡±


    Tess continued her story, elucidating how she brought her wounded mother to the Healers¡¯ Guild. I ground my teeth as she spoke of the Retainer Mawar¡¯s return, their tense standoff, and then¡­


    Tess fell quiet, for the first time seeming to shrink inward as the weight of whatever came next swelled up within and around her, compressing her slim shoulders inward with the force of a hundred gravities.


    ¡°But Commander Virion was bested in his fight,¡± Tess said at last. ¡°The enemy injected his core with a toxin¡ªa corruption. One meant to darken and twist their insides. It did not kill our Commander, but none of the emitters in Zestier have managed to wake him. It spreads like an infection across his mana veins and channels, leaving only shadow in its wake.¡± Her eyes drifted to the side, staring at me knowingly even as the council fell into mute shock again.


    I felt a chill slowly work through my nerves as we stared at each other for an unending infinity, an unspoken message passing between us. Because we both knew who that toxin was meant for.


    Spellsong had removed a taint from Tessia¡¯s Beast Will, afterward claiming that it had allowed Agrona to track her. That the High Sovereign could detonate it at any time. And if what Tess said was correct, then this toxin that struck Gramps wasn¡¯t meant for him.


    My teeth clenched as I considered this. The Council, too, seemed to be in grim shock, even as Tess continued to explain how the Retainer Mawar had surrendered after the death of Bilal.


    The death of a Retainer and the capture of another, however, was inconsequential to the news of Virion¡¯s defeat.


    ¡°They tried to heal him,¡± Alduin said slowly. ¡°But¡­ they failed, you said? And my father, he¡¯s corrupted. Like the mana beasts are,¡± he continued weakly, his shoulders slumping as he sank into his chair. It seemed to swallow him like a grave.


    Nobody spoke into the silence. Because, if Virion¨Cthe Commander of this war¨Cwere removed¨C


    ¡°We need more troops in Elenoir,¡± Alduin said suddenly, a shifting nervousness overcoming him as he stood abruptly. His voice rose sharply as he puffed out his chest, his body trembling slightly. ¡°The Alacryans are focusing their attacks on Elshire, now! We need to divert troops there to prevent this from happening again!¡±


    ¡°And what good would more troops do, Alduin?¡± Blaine sneered, but it was a weak imitation of his usual haughtiness, of the arrogance he wore like a cloak. ¡°The Vritra that allowed the Retainers to infiltrate is dead, killed by your very daughter. You won¡¯t have another attack because of that.¡± I thought I saw a measure of approval in the old human king¡¯s eyes as he referenced Tess, but it was gone too fast. ¡°And even if the Alacryans staged one attack on Elenoir, there are still dozens of attacks happening all over Sapin every day! You lost, what? A score of elven lives today? While there are thousands lost from the massacres in my kingdom!¡±


    Alduin whirled on Blaine, his fists clenched at his sides. ¡°So you would be content to just let the people of Elenoir be slaughtered, then? All while reserving elven lives in your armies to fight human battles?¡± the former elven king accused, his eyes dancing with suppressed rage. ¡°So like your father, Blaine.¡±


    If before the council room had felt dead, now it felt like a powder keg ready to blow. I didn¡¯t have all the context for why, but I knew instinctively that Alduin had crossed a line. Tess raised a hand to her mouth, staring at her father in shock. Priscilla¡¯s eyes hardened as she forced herself to remain calm, but the worst part¡­


    Bairon¡¯s mana crackled slightly, and I could sense Varay¡¯s ice slowly choking the room. Aya¡¯s expression was blank as her mana radiated outward as well, sensing the volcano that was about to erupt.


    And finally, like a spark in gasoline, it blew. Blaine pushed himself to his feet, seeming to heave his body as if it weighed a dozen tons as he glared spitefully at Alduin. His face was as crimson as his hair, but when he spoke, it was with forced, vindictive calm. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that it is human healers that even allow your wife to live at all right now,¡± he snapped, his hair flaring. ¡°You want to take back your soldiers, Alduin? You want to keep elves in Elshire? Then I¡¯ll take back all the humans, too.¡±


    Alduin threw a punch laden with grief and frustration at the former human king. The Lances prepared their spells. Tessia began to cry out in alarm, and Elder Buhnd was trying to move across the table to intervene.


    I stepped forward, the space around me warping.


    And I appeared between the two monarchs. I caught Alduin¡¯s punch with ease, my eyes hard as I held him fast. Blaine, who had clearly been bracing for the blow, stumbled back in surprise at my sudden teleportation.


    I turned hard eyes to the Lances all around me as their mana revved, silent warning threading into the air. ¡°This isn¡¯t a barroom. This isn¡¯t a pit of mud or arena for combat,¡± I said gravely. ¡°If you cannot communicate with words, then you shouldn¡¯t speak at all,¡± I made the ultimatum with all the cold familiarity of Grey.


    My intent suppressed those of the white core mages around me, pressing around and in on them as they were forced to recognize the power I wielded. I stood between the two theoretical sides, a foot in both worlds as I became a living barrier.


    ¡°And who¡¯s to say we can communicate at all?¡± Blaine said, an undercurrent of vitriol still in his voice. ¡°I know you see it, boy Lance. Alduin would happily withdraw all the elves from Sapin¡¯s front just because his family was threatened. Any time harm comes to them, he forsakes the duty of his people for the very few.¡± The former human king¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°He doesn¡¯t care about the sanctity of this Council. Not compared to his family.¡±


    ¡°And what man wouldn''t?!¡± Alduin bellowed, fresh tears streaming down his face as his arms shook weakly. ¡°Tell me you have never put the lives of your loved ones beyond your people, Blaine! Look me in the eyes and lie!¡±


    Blaine gritted his teeth, but he did not respond.


    For the first time, it was Priscilla who spoke up. ¡°Watch your tone, Councilman,¡± she said in a strained voice. ¡°We are monarchs. That means we must do what others cannot. What they are too weak to do! And sometimes that means making sacrifices! Even if it means our families are at stake!¡±


    Alduin thrust a finger toward Tessia down below, who was clutching Sylvie¡¯s shoulders for support. ¡°Hypocrite!¡± he snapped with accusation. ¡°You are a hypocrite, Priscilla Glayder! You voted with us to send my daughter to our home to protect her!¡±


    As the men around me snapped their jaws at each other in growing frustration, I felt it building. Clawing and worming its way through my gut. The outside world seemed to lose its color as life bled from my perception. The echoes of my past life as Grey became resounding drumbeats across my skull while councilors struggled to tear each other apart. Etharia, Dicathen¡­ It was all the same. I stood stock-still, feeling it grow, compounding within.


    But before it could burst, someone else interrupted.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Elder Buhndemog roared, finally placing himself between the bickering humans and elves. ¡°Look at yourselves, bickerin¡¯ and squabblin¡¯ like fuckin¡¯ children!¡±


    His voice carried through the entire council chamber, swallowing the words of everyone else. It stunned the two deteriorating sides into silence like a punch to the gut. Buhnd slammed his fist into the council table, making it shudder and crack. ¡°Now we are going to talk this out like reasonable people and not snivellin¡¯ babes,¡± he snapped, fire punctuating his words. ¡°Without Virion, there is still a war to be won. Every day, my people are subverted and tricked by the monstrous Vritra. And what do I do? I work with ya! Even when all of your attention is elsewhere! So pull up your fuckin¡¯ bootstraps and pull your heads out of your arses!¡± he boomed, slamming another fist into the table.


    I didn¡¯t realize it, but my fists had been clenched as my mana churned inside of my core. The councilors¨Cwhile still angry¨Clooked momentarily ashamed.


    Virion had only been gone for a few hours, and already the greatest people on this continent were itching to tear out each other¡¯s throats. Even as they averted their eyes, quietly chastised by Buhnd¡¯s rebuke, I found myself wondering. Questioning, deep inside. Without Gramps to keep it all together, how long could it last? If Dicathen wanted to win this war, we needed unity. A collected front to battle the Vritra and their bloody schemes.


    Divided, we would fall¨Cand we were already so, so divided. How long until the Council reached the edge?


    Fate, it seemed, was a cruel, cruel mistress. Because I got my answer.


    A horrendous, blaring noise echoed from Elder Buhnd¡¯s pockets. He cursed, grappling with his jacket for a moment before he finally pulled a communication scroll from the inner folds. ¡°What now, you pricks?¡± he snapped, clearly agitated as his massive fingers struggled to turn off the alarm gem at the top as it flashed red and pulsed with sound mana. ¡°Do they have no sense of what they¡¯re interrupt¨C¡±


    Elder Buhnd¡¯s features paled, his rough skin becoming whiter than a sheet as he read whatever was on the communication scroll. His hands didn¡¯t tremble, but they didn¡¯t need to for us all to see the damned words on the scroll.


    Because in big, choppy letters, a message had been scrawled as if it were the last thing the person had ever done.


    Vildorial under attack. Falling back. City lost. Overrun.


    The Council was silent once more, stunned. Already exhausted from the charged conversations before, they didn¡¯t even have the wherewithal to come up with a plan of response, to even order some sort of counterattack or order troops to reinforce Vildorial, the largest bastion of Council presence in Darv.


    And if Darv fell, then Sapin would be fighting a battle on all fronts. My military mind could imagine it¡ªthe human kingdom was already ravaged within its borders and facing harrying attacks along the Wall. If another front were suddenly opened in earnest along their southern border, they¡¯d have no way to truly resist.


    My eyes drifted to Sylvie as she stood ramrod straight on the floor not far away, her arm around Tess¡¯ shoulders. I remembered how Agrona had promised this war would be bloody and brutal through her lips¡ªand as I thought about it more in the horrified silence, I realized that I could see it. The marks of intention and a well-crafted beatdown to everything that held the union of Dicathen together. Take away the Commander, efficiently breaking elven resolve and enforcing a desire to reinforce their borders. And then break Darv, leading the Council to choose. The biased councilors would have to choose between Elenoir and Sapin, all without the level head and steadying hand that was Virion Eralith.


    Agrona is a genius, I thought distantly. A mastermind. This¡­ This is a masterstroke: Two swift cuts sever the arteries, leaving us to bleed out onto the cold, hard earth.


    ¡°You can¡¯t give up, Arthur,¡± Sylvie thought, marching over to me with Tess in tow. The elven princess¡ªwho had looked so regal and poised earlier¡ªappeared hollow as she trailed behind my bond. ¡°That¡¯s what he wants! That¡¯s how he wins. We can fight this somehow. There must be a way.¡±


    I felt strangely loose as her words washed through my thoughts. If there is a way, I don¡¯t see it, I thought absently as I watched the councilors descend into another fit of arguing and back-and-forth bickering. Now, however, it was like I was watching it all play out from afar. I was staring down at the slow collapse of the Triunion from above, not within.


    Grey made it easier to watch. Easier to understand.


    ¡°Papa, there is always a way,¡± Sylv started, sensing as I dipped deeper into that murky pit. She marched right up to me, clasping my shoulder and holding it tight. By her side, Tessia stared at me with eyes of empty emerald. ¡°We just need to¨C¡±


    ¡°It is clear that this council of lessers, which we left in the hopes of being able to support itself, has failed,¡± a familiar, even voice cut through the air like the tip of a sword. Elder Buhnd¡¯s resounding chastisement from earlier had made the room tremble and shake, but these words? They seemed to make the mana itself tremble with unseen force.


    I turned robotically as the familiar aura radiated outward, feeling something in my gut clench. I could sense that aura better now. In a way I hadn¡¯t before.


    Aldir Thyestes, arrayed in black battle armor with only his third eye open, stood just past the council doors. The pantheon asura radiated a carefully controlled aura¨Clike a swirling thunderstorm, a rockslide, wildfire, and torrential flood all packed into one impossibly tranquil singularity. His long gray hair was tied into a simple ponytail as he observed the suddenly silent council, nothing different about him since the last time I¡¯d seen him.


    Except for one thing: he¡¯d brought someone else with him. Someone I vaguely recognized.


    The other figure wore minimalist martial robes trimmed with squarish-gold patterns. Dark undertones made his pale, shaved head stand out even more. His olive-green eyes flickered with masked contempt as he stared out at us all, focusing on me in particular as his lips twitched.


    Taci Thyestes looked older than the last time I¡¯d sparred him: nearly as old as I was. And from the power he kept contained, I knew he had grown as well. A spear red as blood seemed to cut the atmosphere itself as it stayed glued to the young pantheon asura¡¯s hand.


    I should have felt relieved at their appearance. Should have felt reassured by asuran presence. Ever since I¡¯d returned from my battle against Jagrette, we¡¯d been lacking asuran direction. Agrona himself had told me the warriors of Epheotus had led a failed assault against Taegrin Caelum, thus succeeding in negotiating a pact of noninterference. But something in Taci¡¯s expression made me hesitate.


    Instead, it was my bond that stepped forward, radiating power as she tried¨Cand failed¨Cto match Aldir¡¯s. She put herself between the Council and the two asura, her chin upturned as she embraced the strength of her bloodline.


    ¡°Aldir and Taci Thyestes,¡± she said, sheltering the rest of the humans here from their auras, ¡°It has been a long time since this Council has been graced by the warriors of Epheotus.¡±


    Over our mental link, I could tell that my bond was just as unnerved and worried¡ªno, even more so¡ªthan I was at the appearance of these asura. Yet she refused to communicate why.


    Aldir bowed slightly in respect, his hands clasped behind his back. ¡°Lady Sylvie Indrath,¡± he said. ¡°You have grown in power and prowess as a young asura. Indeed¡­ your grandfather would be proud. I am glad to see you have pushed past the seal your mother placed on you, at least in part.¡±


    At his side, Taci bowed even deeper than his master.


    Sylvie looked between them, waiting. Finally, Aldir acquiesced. ¡°It is clear that, without the leadership of the lesser being, Virion Eralith, the Dicathian resistance as a united front will inevitably crumble,¡± he said succinctly, casually uttering the words that all were afraid to put a voice to.


    I took a few steps forward, standing a ways behind my bond. Behind me, the Council shuddered in shame and uncertainty as Aldir¡¯s proclamation, like the mandate of a god, struck true to their hearts.


    ¡°And you have a solution to this?¡± Sylvie said, doubt deep in her voice.


    ¡°Indeed, Lady Sylvie,¡± Aldir said, resting a gauntleted hand on Taci¡¯s back. ¡°He is here, with the full confidence of Lord Indrath himself.¡±


    Taci stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the council as if they were interesting pieces on a gameboard. He spared me no attention at all. ¡°My name is Taci Thyestes,¡± he said, his voice somewhere between stern and angry despite the impassive expression on his war-tattooed face. ¡°I have been tasked with proving myself to Lord Indrath through leading your armies to victory in this war with the lessuran scum of Alacrya. I will take the place of your Commander and ensure that every single one of your encounters emerges as a victory for Lord Indrath,¡± he said succinctly, his chin upturned.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°And we bring other gifts from the Lord of Epheotus as well,¡± Aldir continued nonchalantly. When he withdrew his hands from behind his back, there was a simple, ornate box settled there. Within was a scepter that positively radiated aether and mana in a way that made my teeth clench. ¡°Lord Indrath has seen your plight, lessers of Dicathen. Despite his earlier reservations, he will invest more in this continent. In my hands are the means to push your Lances beyond their current limitations, giving your people a true fighting chance against the Vritra¡¯s legions.¡±


    I could sense it: the change in the air around us as hope began to swell in the Lances and councilors behind me. They felt it¡ªthe resurgence of possibility. With Epheotus on their side, they could win this war. Even without Virion¡¯s assistance, we could push our mages beyond their limits. Yet I stared into Taci¡¯s olive-yellow eyes.


    And I saw disdain.


    I took a few steps forward, moving to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my bond. Taci¡¯s brow furrowed in anger for a reason I couldn¡¯t discern, his mouth opening to speak.


    ¡°What does this mean for the treaty?¡± I ground out instead as I stared at Aldir, shifting my stance into something solid. Not the same one as Aldir, but the turn of my jaw and squaring of my shoulders told him that I wouldn¡¯t take a half-answer. ¡°Agrona delivered the news to me himself of why you and Windsom withdrew from our Council in the first place. He negotiated you out of this war. Is returning here not a breach?¡± I pressed, my eyes darkening.


    Taci¡¯s intent began to leak out as I spoke. ¡°You question my master, lesser?¡± he said, his fists clenched around his spear. The power that radiated from him was absurd, and I was sure that if I had not grown in strength so rapidly, it would have seen me gasping for air. ¡°These are the words of Lord Indrath himself. What place do you have to challenge them?¡±


    I pressed outward with my mana, silently calling on the aether as well. Around me, I rebuffed Taci¡¯s sweltering intent, feeling my limbs creak from the effort. Yet he was not the leader here. Not yet.


    ¡°Calm, Taci,¡± Aldir said with the chiding note of a mentor to their student. ¡°Arthur Leywin raises an important question, one that cannot be dismissed.¡±


    The three-eyed asura focused on me, and not for the first time, I felt as if his third eye were peeling me apart. Seeing deeper and further than it should.


    It reminded me disturbingly of the effect of Spellsong¡¯s eyes, how he peered deep into my soul.


    ¡°Agrona has breached the noninterference treaty first,¡± Aldir finally said, seeming to measure his words. ¡°Within the ranks of the Alacryan army, a shade of an asura watches over a lesser being. You know of them.¡±


    My fists clenched. ¡°Toren Daen,¡± I muttered, sure of my guess.


    Aldir nodded gravely. ¡°Indeed. Aurora Asclepius, an eminent phoenix of the Aslcepius Clan, haunts his steps like a ghost. It is unknown how much influence she has, or how much of Toren Daen is asura or man. We shall know soon enough, but that is another matter.¡±


    ¡°But this will only serve to escalate the conflict,¡± Sylvie said at my side, resolute as we shared our thoughts and worries. ¡°If an asura is introduced into the war, then what is stopping Agrona from introducing his own? We face Scythes now. Two of them. But with this, we could face Wraiths. How can my grandfather risk something so dangerous?¡±


    Aldir shifted slightly, acknowledging my bond with muted understanding. ¡°A valid question, Lady Sylvie. It has been decreed that Taci Thyestes will only be allowed on the battlefield when rumors of Toren Daen abound. Though great in power and skill, especially for his age, Taci Thyestes does not yet bear the mantle of warrior asura. His strength will not elicit the retribution you fear.¡±


    ¡°I will not need to enter the battlefield to win this war,¡± Taci said, his eyes narrowing as he finally glared at me. ¡°I have been trained in the art of war by the greatest masters of battle within the aether orb. I have studied and practiced and bled for years-within-months. You lesser beings will win this war through the blood you shed and the front you present. Any failure that occurs will not be because of me, but because of your petty weakness.


    ¡±


    ¡°And how is that any way to lead troops?¡± I shot back. ¡°What methods do you have that are so much better than the ones used before?¡±


    Taci¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°It¡¯s clear the Lord of the Lessurans wants your people to bleed, Arthur Leywin. So I say we let him do it. Let him spend his forces in your countryside while the true powers of this war strike a mighty blow at the heart of our foes. I can see it all from above with a tactician¡¯s mind. Your council has darted about like headless raptor squirrels, unable to form cohesive responses to the Vritra¡¯s assaults, cowed by a little blood. But I am above that. Beyond that. I will make you strike like the asura, or as close as a lesser can be to one.¡±


    Taci¡¯s words echoed out, full of pride and conviction. Yet as I stared into his hard, unrelenting eyes, I saw it. I saw Agrona¡¯s victory.


    Because if this boy-asura took the helm of Dicathen, it wouldn¡¯t matter if we ¡°won.¡± Because the Lord of Alacrya demanded the blood of lessers to flow. He wished for men and women and children and babies to die in the tumultuous landslide of war. He was indiscriminate. Cold. Apathetic.


    But Taci? Taci was vindictive. And he would only serve to send more men into the meatgrinder of battle. The numbers didn¡¯t matter to him. I¡¯d seen it so many times. The commander who thought themselves better than their troops, who thought the blood of those beneath them to be worth less than their own.


    I could see it: see Taci leading thousands into battle, all for the grim sake of victory. Because that was what he would fight for. Not for the lives of Dicathen, not for the betterment of all beneath his banner. No, this child wanted victory above all else. At any cost.


    And he¡¯d happily pay Agrona¡¯s price¡ªjust as Grey would¡¯ve.


    Nowhere would be safe. Already, Agrona tore at the safest places in this world, turning them into places of massacre and bloodshed. Zestier, the plains of Sapin, the Beast Glades¡­ My family was never out of his reach. And if Taci took this crown¡­ what few places they might have had a mote of safety would evaporate. Mom, Dad, the Twin Horns, everyone I had ever known at Xyrus¡­


    They¡¯d be meat. Everyone I loved would be another dot on the board fit for a cruel master to send to die.


    I turned around, feeling numb as I swept my gaze across the council. The Arthur deep within compelled me to look at them, to see them for the people they were.


    Elder Buhnd looked pensive, his fists clenched and his jaw working. But there was desire there. The desire to crush his enemies, if only this offered rope would be enough. He couldn¡¯t see that it would hang him.


    Alduin stared at Aldir as if he were a true god bringing salvation in the midst of the rapture, tears blurring the edges of his eyes. He didn¡¯t see the trap. Didn¡¯t see the danger of it all. The hand he sought to hold would squeeze his neck until there was no air left, before breaking it when there was no more use.


    Priscilla? She shifted in her seat, visibly uncomfortable. But she couldn¡¯t hide the questions in her eyes. Maybe this little deity would bring salvation to Dicathen. Maybe he¡¯d lead us all to victory.


    There were only two who saw what I did. Only two paled with growing fear.


    Blaine Glayder stared at Taci as if he were a reaper coming to take his soul. And as the former human king sensed my attention, he looked at me.


    And I could see it, too. His expression begged; it pleaded. So different from the worshipping, awe-filled gazes of my previous life, but so similar. Just like Alduin and Elder Buhnd, he wanted salvation. He needed salvation. His eyes pleaded for some way to escape this horrible future.


    And Tess? Tess simply looked away, her shoulders slumping as she resigned herself. All the others sought some sort of hope. They wanted some sort of life preserver that would pull them from the approaching tide of war and indiscriminate death.


    But as I watched the slump of her shoulders and the emptiness in her eyes, I realized she had already given up. She¡¯d given up when her grandfather was injured and had only presented a front so far.


    That was what finally cemented my resolve. Seeing my ever-hopeful, ever-soulful childhood friend¡­ Greying. The Arthur inside¡ªdifferent from that distant King¡ªwouldn¡¯t let her eyes be so empty.


    I came to a decision.


    From the depths of Tess¡¯ shadow, a figure grew as if molded from null light. They took on familiar features: sandy blonde hair. Grey eyes. Solid armor. And a crown. A crown so gold it made everything else seem lifeless in comparison.


    King Grey stared at me, looming like a demon behind Tess¡¯ husk. His eyes asked those questions, that expressionless face still carrying the hard lines of logic.


    There is another way, that crown seemed to taunt. There is a path to victory. One that will save these people.


    ¡°No,¡± I said, still staring at the defeated scarecrow of the elven princess. ¡°Taci will not lead this council.¡±


    ¡°No?¡± Taci snapped behind me, his aura flaring once more. I might have struggled to rebuff it as I had earlier, but the encroaching mask of Grey banished it. The color drained from the room as I slowly turned, tuning out Sylvie¡¯s horror in my mind. Her hands clenched on my arm, and I sensed her distraught gaze on me as she focused solely on my loosening posture.


    ¡°Papa, no,¡± she thought weakly, forgetting all about the asura nearby. ¡°Don¡¯t go there. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t follow.¡±


    I ignored her.


    ¡°No,¡± I reasserted once more, staring at the pantheons across from me. ¡°What is the purpose of Taci¡¯s appointment here, Aldir Thyestes?¡±


    Aldir studied me: really studied me. Before, I¡¯d felt unnerved by the piercing lance of his sight. But as that same figure of King Grey stepped out from Aldir¡¯s shadow, somehow always on the edge of my vision, I realized I didn¡¯t have anything to hide. ¡°Taci is to gain experience in warfare as a commander, as a soldier, and as a warrior,¡± the general said.


    I tilted my head, seeing through the overlaying pretenses. The dull eyes of the figure behind Aldir watched me intently. ¡°That isn¡¯t everything. There¡¯s more to why. And as the people of this continent¡ªthe ones dying and bleeding and suffering¡ªwe have a right to know.¡±


    Taci opened his mouth to retort, his face clenching, but Aldir¡¯s hand on his shoulder quieted him. ¡°He has yet to learn what it means to truly be force,¡± the three-eyed asura said, that single pupil of his darting about as it roved over me. ¡°To be anything more than brutality and pure destruction. A battlefield where the targets and enemies are more abstract is the greatest teacher of such tactics. But you must tell me in turn, Arthur Leywin. Why do you think yourself fit to defy a command from Lord Indrath?¡±


    I stepped forward, ignoring the gaze of the living ghost behind Aldir. Because Grey¡ªKing Grey¡ªhad manifested from the very pits of hell to watch me. His cold, empty eyes asked me if I¡¯d continue. Asked me if I¡¯d make the same mistakes.


    And I remembered Elder Rinia¡¯s words, the seer no doubt predicting the future. No doubt seeing precisely to this moment.


    Sometimes, the only way out was through.


    I took a deep breath, settling my resolve. ¡°I will lead this continent,¡± I declared, my voice iron and my will steel. ¡°I will take them to victory.¡±


    Sylvie closed her eyes in sorrow, a tear streaking down her pristine jaw as her lips quivered. I heard the surprised mutters of the councilmembers and Lances behind me, no doubt thinking me insane.


    King Grey began to circle around the council chamber, his ghostly eyes focused on me as he stalked like a predator. Distantly, I wondered if part of my mind had finally broken, if this manifestation of my inner psyche proved me truly mad. Why else would I be seeing ghosts?


    Taci swelled with anger. ¡°And what claim do you have, lesser being, to lead in place of me?¡± he hissed, his aura swelling again. ¡°First, you presume to share the same training grounds as I. Then you impose yourself in a talk between pure-blooded asura, unaware of your station. And now¨C¡±


    ¡°Quiet, Taci,¡± Aldir interrupted sharply, his voice rising with true ire for the first time. ¡°You must know patience. You must know restraint. If you cannot let those you deem beneath you even open their mouths, then a failure of a leader you will make. Perhaps I was too swift in your recommendation here if you are so quick to anger.¡± The three-eyed asura looked at me consideringly, his ire simmering away. ¡°And though the man before you is no asura, he was once royalty.¡±


    The council chamber grew silent as Aldir¡¯s power drifted about on eddies of shimmering force. The only sound that reached my ears was the nigh undetectable sound of Sylvie¡¯s tears as they shattered against the stones.


    ¡°This¡­ This I did not expect, Arthur Leywin,¡± the pantheon general mused. ¡°Why should I grant you this privilege? Are you so desperate to lead men into battle again? Is this what it has all led to?¡±


    Taci was seething. His face looked fit to break from how hard the muscles within clenched. But I didn¡¯t care. ¡°I do not want this,¡± I said evenly. Not far from me, the phantom ghost of King Grey stared at me. Always judging me. Always weighing me. ¡°But I know what this continent stands to lose: but unlike Taci, I live on this continent. Every loss that occurs is a blow to my home. And because of that, I will fight that much harder than Taci ever will. I will fight that much smarter than Taci ever will. My tactical experience eclipses even his. You know I am what is needed.¡±


    For the first time ever, Aldir opened his normal eyes. They were the same piercing violet as his third. His aura finally rose, so much more than Taci. It was like Kordri¡¯s King¡¯s Force, except truly primordial. And for the first time, I felt even the mantle of Grey creak from the pressure bearing down on me from all sides.


    ¡°I did not ask why you were greater than Taci, King Grey,¡± Aldir countered, every syllable a hammer on a reverberating drum. ¡°I asked what made you worthy of this station. You profess that you are what is needed, heedless of your status as a mortal man. You speak of knowing, so I shall tell you what I know.


    ¡°I know the blood that trailed in your wake,¡± he said, each syllable growing louder and louder. His tone was soft, but the reverberating volume made my bones ache. Each word echoed and rebounded across the council chamber. The stones of the castle shook as dust rained from the ceiling, the asura¡¯s aura making the very floating bastion we stood in tremble. ¡°You claim that you care for others, yet that blood taints your very soul and haunts your footsteps. Your very intent is soaked red with the lives of those you¡¯ve slaughtered. Through the press of your King¡¯s Force, I can taste their tears. There are countless more dead in your wake than Agrona has ever laid claim to in this war, and even now, your mind is more pantheon than man. Tell me. You have a warrior¡¯s intent, but not a king¡¯s. I did not ask if you were greater than Taci. I asked if you were greater than yourself.¡±


    Greater than myself¡­ What made me better than King Grey? What made Arthur the only choice for this?


    Aldir¡¯s King¡¯s Force was every flavor of power rolled into a devastating gale. Knives, hammers, swords, spears, axes¡­ It cleaved, cut, thrust, and crushed the mana itself around me, threatening to tear my balance out from under me. An unending storm of humanity¡¯s art of war flowed through the mana itself, trying to tear me down. I was a man lost in a storm, the waves reaching their fingers along the bow of my sinking ship and trying to pull me under. I trembled slightly.


    Despite the pressure, I turned, staring back at the Council once more. Most struggled to breathe and stand beneath Aldir¡¯s intent, suppressed as it was. The Lances stared wide-eyed in disbelief and incomprehension at the interplay. But I saw Tess¡¯ eyes¡ªand for once, I thought there was hope in there once more. Wherever I looked, that phantom figure of Grey was always at the edges¡ªexcept for when I stared at her.


    I was Grey now. But deep in my mind, there was a kindling of Arthur, a spark that would keep me on my path. Arthur was not just a machine, seeking a goal under the grinding of apathetic gears. He was the lighthouse amidst the hurricane.


    He was what made me better. He was what made this possible.


    ¡°If you cannot trust my selflessness, Lord Aldir, then trust my selfishness,¡± I said, feeling my mana swell. It was paltry in comparison to the pantheon¡¯s, but the weight behind it was just as impactful. Fire and water and wind and earth rose, pressing against axe and spear and mace and sword. They wove together in a dance known only to the General and I, the sound of clashing blades ringing in the depths of our minds. The sound of war. ¡°I made a promise to Sylvia Indrath before she died, that I would craft a life for myself in this world different from my last with people to love. But Agrona will never give them a place to live their lives in peace. I will fight and I will bleed and I will win.¡±


    The lighthouse shone.


    The faces of a dozen friends and comrades flashed through my mind as I reasserted my will. I thought of Mom, working so hard to heal every person she could for her continent. I thought of Dad, his gauntlets roaring as he sought to make good on the death of Adam. Ellie¡¯s shy expression as she asked to train with me, hoping to show me every new technique she learned from Helen Shard. Tess¡¯ beautiful face as she slowly grew from a young child to a mature woman, and Sylvie at my side as she wept tears of sorrowful understanding.


    ¡°Every battle I fight, I fight for them,¡± I said with the command of a King. ¡°Every beast I slay and town I protect, I do so in the hope that they will have a future, that they will have a life to live and hope to endure. That is what will give this continent a chance. That is my claim to royalty.¡±


    I summoned Dawn¡¯s Ballad, the asura-forged blade appearing in a flash of purple particles. I slammed its violet blade into the crust of the castle floor, the splintering of earth heralding my declaration in a flare of brilliant aether. All four of the elements in the air shifted and swirled around me, the aether of this mortal plane cementing my candidacy. Another sword joined the storm.


    ¡°I will be King again,¡± I declared solemnly. ¡°So long as it is necessary. As long as Agrona harries our shores with war and I am needed, I will serve that end.¡±


    After all, hadn¡¯t Dad said something about this? Sometimes, all we did was what we could, even if it hurt those we cared for.


    My aura of desaturation warped around the crushing grip of Aldir¡¯s King¡¯s Force. He watched me. Measured me, my resolve, and everything that I was. Through it all, I stayed strong, letting the scrutinizing gaze peel at my layers of steel. The storm of swords ripped me apart, rending metal and looking for weakness within. War raged as sweat seeped from my iron shell.


    Let him know the truth. Let him know that I will do all I can to see this continent safe. Let him know that Agrona will not win.


    And finally, Aldir¡¯s intent simmered away, banished by my declaration as it sank in and through the stones. The castle ceased its tumultuous rumbling. He watched me for a time, his eyes peeling back the meaning behind every wordl. The very world held its breath, every bit of air stolen by my affirmation.


    ¡°It is as you say,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Very well then, King Grey. No¡­ King Arthur. By the authority of Epheotus, you will lead this council in our stead. Some part of me was turned aside when I first came here, but now¡­ I think I am beginning to see.¡±


    King Arthur.


    Sylvie shook, tears streaming down her face. Tears I could not shed. For a moment, she glared hatefully at Aldir, a young girl¡¯s hatred condensing on the one who stole something she couldn¡¯t understand. You took him from me, those glistening topaz eyes accused. You took him from me.


    But my bond did not speak. Aldir barely spared the granddaughter of Kezess Indrath a glance, merely tilting his eyes at her grief. It was only then that he turned to the other asura in the room.


    ¡°And Taci¡­¡±


    The young asura¡ªwho was gaping at me with an expression that couldn¡¯t even afford true comprehension¡ªturned to acknowledge Aldir mutely. ¡°Master¡­¡±


    ¡°You will stay your course in this castle. You will watch Arthur Leywin, and you will learn under his guidance. Of all the lessers, he is one you must take care to emulate. Yet if you find taking orders from Arthur Leywin to be unacceptable, then turn to Sylvie Indrath. She is of her mother¡¯s blood; of her grandfather¡¯s blood. Trust that she will not lead you astray, my pupil,¡± he said, laying a solid hand on the teenage-looking asura¡¯s shoulder.


    Taci stared up at Aldir, equally uncertain and angry. ¡°But master, I¡ªwhat does this do to serve my growth? How does it¡­ How does it prove me worthy?¡±


    Aldir was quiet for a moment. ¡°Three eyes, and sometimes I am still blind,¡± he muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Arthur Leywin has knowledge that you would be wise to emulate. His mind is a weapon sharp as any pantheon blade, honed through battles more numerous than you would believe.¡±


    The asuran general strode toward me, sparing a solemn glance toward Sylvie as she quietly wept. She could no longer stare him in the eye, and her anger had given way to sorrow. I wondered if Aldir understood why.


    King Grey watched silently as the pantheon proffered the box containing the scepter to me. ¡°This will bind the Lances to you, King Arthur. They will be yours, no longer belonging to the monarchs of this land. They will be unshackled from the limitations on their power.¡± His eye narrowed slightly, and I thought I saw a hint of fondness in the depths. ¡°The greatest path of a warrior is not conquering their enemies. It is conquering themselves; rising above what they once were in a constant struggle to overcome the self of yesterday. I look forward to seeing what you will do in this war, and I wish you strength on your inner battles.¡±


    And then he left, swiftly as he had come. Aldir did not spare us any more words of wisdom. He didn¡¯t give the rest of us any tips or hints toward success. The wind seemed to carry him as he strode out the Council doors.


    Taci stood still, seeming dumbfounded by the entire interaction. His knuckles were white on the shaft of his red spear, his eyes wide.


    I would have to watch him and ensure he did not overstep.


    I pulled the scepter into my dimension ring. I inhaled, feeling the oxygen fill my lungs. Then I exhaled slowly. The sensation of air across my skin and my slow heartbeat in my ears told me I was alive. That while I was a sword, I was also flesh and bone. The analytical mindset I¡¯d always adopted as Grey was at the forefront of my mind, but there was also something else there. A solemn resolve lingered on the corners that wasn¡¯t Grey. That was Arthur, and all he cared for.


    I grasped the hilt of Dawn¡¯s Ballad, then drew it from the stone. I inspected its edge, already imagining the weight of the metaphorical crown on my head.


    I¡¯d made a promise to Sylvia that I would live a fulfilling life. And for me, that meant my loved ones. That meant I wished for my family to live and grow and prosper. But they needed a home that they could prosper in. A world where they could live without fear of bloodshed and war.


    I wondered then, what Sylvia would think of this. When I was a young boy, she knew me to once have been a king. Did she know I would be in the future, too?


    I turned, staring back at the council. In their fearful, confused, and horrified eyes, I saw the Council of Etharia. I saw men and women who didn¡¯t know war: not fully.


    Alduin fell back into his seat like a sack of dead flesh, staring at me as if I were a stranger who¡¯d come to haunt the shell of something he¡¯d once known. He would question all he knew of my childhood, but he would bend. He¡¯d been broken before, and that made him easy to mold. Priscilla Glayder¡¯s eyes shook, sweat making her illustrious black hair cling to her neck, her eyes darting between me and the place the pantheon general had left. For her part, I suspected she¡¯d follow her husband¡¯s lead in my rule. Elder Buhnd was paler than ivory as he trembled visibly, the dwarf¡¯s mouth agape. Blaine¡¯s expression was hollow, nearly as empty as my soul as he limply stared at me.


    What are you, Arthur Leywin? those eyes asked. Who are you? What have you done?


    Bairon seemed to have forgotten what it was to wield the storms, his body shaking¡ªwith rage or fear, I would have to determine at a later date¡ªas his wild green eyes darted about me. Varay alone stared into the distance, impassive and empty as she traced the path the pantheon general had walked. Aya? Aya was silent as a grave.


    With the scepter, I¡¯d take control of their tethers. That was the simplest start in centralizing power.


    Tess was there, too, staring at me with an indecipherable expression. Though the councilors and Lances alike stood starstruck in silence, unable to process the shift in power that had just taken place, I thought that my childhood friend was the only one of them who fully fathomed what had just happened.


    Her eyes were still so hollow.


    I acknowledged it all, even as Sylvie slowly sank to her knees, trying not to sob at the choice I had needed to make. She buried her face in her hands, the young dragon crumbling as she recognized that this was the only way forward. Some part of me could understand her horror as I dove headfirst into the cloying pit. Her fear that I would never find my way out again burned like a dying star.


    ¡°Papa,¡± she thought weakly, each of her tears shattering like droplets of glass as they met the floor, ¡°Papa, I don¡¯t want to lose you. I don¡¯t know how to make you better.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t say the words to Aldir, but that was the dream she felt slipping away. The dream that I would be better. Some part of me, hammered away and reforged into what I needed to be, saw it fading too. I had the lighthouse there, flickering in the dark. But I couldn¡¯t follow that light. I could not embrace the gold.


    I didn¡¯t respond to my bond, still enmeshed in the hardened shell of Grey. I did not have encouragement to give her: only steel.


    Only steel.


    I surveyed the members of this new council with a steady gaze, recalling every trial and misstep I had encountered in Etharia as I centered absolute power.


    These people were weak. They¡¯d squandered resources, men, and the future of this continent. So much inefficiency. So many limbs jutted from this monstrosity that could be cut away, severed at their root and replaced with iron.


    I had work to do.


    ¡°It has been many decades since I stood at the head of a war council,¡± I finally said into the silence, my voice carrying unnaturally, ¡°but I have not forgotten how to break an enemy.¡±


    ¡°I will ensure that Dicathen survives this war. And when that is done¡­¡± My hands clenched around the hilt of Dawn¡¯s Ballad. ¡°We¡¯ll see if Agrona¡¯s blood is as black as his soul.¡±

 Chapter 249: Catharsis

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I watched from the side of the cookfire as Captain Dromorth directed his troops through the Undercroft. The dim and dark cesspits of Burim always seemed to try and swallow any light that streamed down, but the lighting artifacts strapped to the belts of our soldiers and the task they were performing served to bring some much-needed warmth to the decrepit mishmash of rickety homes lashed to stalagmites.


    Personally, I waited at the edge with a cloak covering my hair, doing what little I could here and there to assist in the distribution of food. Not far away, Bartholomew Morg spoke in animated tones as he peddled a story to some of the nervous dwarven children.


    As I watched the slowly gathering operation, I found myself drifting back to winter nights in East Fiachra. Where Greahd would give out everything she could to bring about a sense of community to the downtrodden of the city. I thought of Naereni and Wade. Sevren and Caera.


    I spotted a young dwarven girl as she stared up with awe at Barth¡¯s conjured play, clapping her hands. The sparkle in her brown eyes was so much like Benny¡¯s.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ sad,¡± Lusul said beside me, almost invisible against the shadows because of his dark skin. ¡°I didn¡¯t know this place was down here. I couldn¡¯t even imagine¡­¡±


    I exhaled sadly through my nose. ¡°Places like this exist on every continent,¡± I said. ¡°You can¡¯t escape poverty, no matter your system.¡± I tapped my fingers along my leg, noting the wary looks of nonmage dwarves as they stared at our cookfires and offerings of food. They sensed some sort of trap. Some sort of danger here, even though there was none.


    At least not any they can understand, I thought solemnly as I leaned against the back of a stalagmite. None they¡¯ll ever be able to understand.


    Seris was playing a game with these people. After she¡¯d recognized the changes in Agrona¡¯s modus operandi through Viessa¡ªwhere the Truacian Scythe enabled massacres on an untold scale across the continent of Sapin¡ªshe¡¯d confided in me that she was going to push a certain image: not dissimilar to mine, where I attempted to act as a connective tissue for dwarf and Alacryan.


    Seris would present the differences in her and Viessa¡¯s power blocks. If Viessa were the monstrous demon, Seris was the noble one. One could run from Viessa into Seris¡¯ clutches, thinking themselves safe. A pretty lie, I supposed, but a lie nonetheless.


    And so here we were, distributing spare rations of food to the poor of Burim. A sound political move.


    Lusul was silent for a time as he shivered slightly in the darkness. ¡°On every continent, Toren?¡± he said weakly.


    I snorted slightly. ¡°It¡¯s worse in Alacrya,¡± I said. ¡°Better in Sehz-Clar, of course, but still much worse.¡±


    I tapped my fingers against my arm as I thought of the destitution that gripped the unadorned of my home city. ¡°There¡¯s a reason people need to be mages to even purchase things like food and basic necessities in most Dominions. Why most of the time, unadorned are exiled and banished from the truly populous city centers if they fail a single tax.¡±


    Laws such as that inadvertently helped strengthen the blood of mages in Alacrya, as evidenced by nearly two millennia of experimentation. By pushing those with a low aptitude for magic away from the urban centers¨Cwhere most of the industry and means of survival were centralized¨CAgrona created a culture where those with magic potential naturally congregated and perpetuated their bloodlines, gradually strengthening and enhancing their magical potential through manipulation of civilization itself.


    ¡°Then these people will be even worse off when¡­ when we conquer them?¡± Lusul said, his pink eyes haunted.


    I suppressed a bitter laugh. Lusul had grown so much over the past few months¡ªfrom believing all Dicathians were inherently lesser, to fearing for our victory. I remembered when he¡¯d told me that beating down ¡°Dicathian savages¡± would serve his spine well.


    But it was a tragic thing, in a way. Seeing the truth, and never being able to lie to yourself again.


    So many of the youths of Alacrya were kept away from places like these, only allowed to see the high and mighty powers. Some part of me had been afraid that Lusul would justify it inside, or that he¡¯d feel only scorn. But all the training we¡¯d been doing had finally convinced me otherwise.


    ¡°Seris means well for these people,¡± I said after a considering moment. ¡°When we have our victory, it will be easier to implement Sehz-Clarian practices, which are more tolerant and respectful of nonmages. They won¡¯t be mistreated like in most places in Alacrya.¡±


    And with further influence as we slowly chip away at the foundation,


    I thought with grim resolve, we¡¯ll see them soar. But things will get worse before they get better.


    Aurora¡¯s puppeteered relic settled on my shoulder as a grim silence stretched around us. She was silent as well. Her thoughts were almost constantly on the Hearth, a growing well of anticipation churning there whenever I looked her way.


    I¡¯d be leaving tonight. Setting off into the Beast Glades for however long it took to find Mordain and ensure a promise of Asclepius intervention.


    I slowly stood, unraveling myself like a bow being unstrung. I gave Lusul¡¯s shoulder a comforting squeeze. ¡°Come on, Lusul,¡± I said to my friend. ¡°You¡¯ve been having trouble sensing intent as I¡¯ve directed, yeah?¡±


    Lusul looked up at me, his near-pink eyes bright in the darkness. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said quietly, sounding slightly ashamed. ¡°I think I¡¯m close to getting it. Like¡­ I feel the texture of it, as you describe. But I can¡¯t decipher it, not really.¡±


    I stared out over the milling Alacryan soldiers, every one of them mages. Each of them with intent.


    ¡°I know what you need to really grasp that feeling,¡± I said, rolling my shoulders. ¡°I have for while. But truth be told, Lusul, I¡¯ve been a bit afraid myself to try. To actually give it a shot.¡±


    I flourished my hand, calling on my dimension ring. A familiar case set into my hands, gleaming silver and flashing in the darkness. With barely a word, I withdrew my violin and bow, inspecting the burnished Clarwood.


    Images flashed through my mind of the last time I¡¯d tried to play my music. Where my hands had shook, stained as they were with the blood of innocents. How my fingers had trembled and failed each time I tried to play a single note.


    Because all I could see was my blade ending the life of Skarn Earthborn, and the deep fire in Hornfels as he tried to wreak vengeance for his twin.


    I settled the violin against my collar, my hands steady despite their desire to tremble. Around me, Seris¡¯ troops had started taking notice, their eyes widening as they saw my preparation. Muffled whispers quieted their work as they inadvertently forgot their duties.


    I stared across the meager crowd, remembering the hundreds who had attended my concerts in Central Academy. The multitudes that had stood enraptured with every pull of my violin bow.


    ¡°Music is how we express our souls,¡± I whispered quietly, low enough only Lusul¨Cwatching with nervous eyes¨Ccould hear. ¡°It¡¯s how we connect with each other; cement our resolve and ensure our humanity.¡±


    I felt Aurora¡¯s comforting hand on my shoulder, warm thoughts streaming over our bond. Like cool spring water on a hot day, it seeped into my muscles and bones as I relaxed, drinking in the smoky air.


    These people no doubt heard of my performances in Alacrya. Hell, some of them might have even attended. And the reactions of the guards and mages served to heighten the anxiety of the watching dwarven nonmages.


    I rested my bow across the strings of my violin, the familiar sensation seeming to reverberate through my nerves and mana core.


    Then I began to play.


    This time, I pulled on my resolve. The resolutions I¡¯d made in the wake of my battle with Arthur, of the certainty that I wouldn¡¯t always make things better. That the consequences of my actions might sting and burn as they revealed themselves.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I thought of the Hearth as I played a somber note, my mind focusing on Mordain¡¯s taunting letter. Maybe my actions had resulted in the deaths of thousands. Maybe they hadn¡¯t. The accusation hurt me. The thought of it hurt me, carving tracks and scars through my soul. But neither could I ignore the potentiality that it was because of me.


    I can never dismiss my actions or their potential effects, I thought as I continued to play, the ambient mana twisting and warping as my intent spread like a cool mist. I will always be conscious of them. Always acknowledge them. But never will I let the fear of what might be prevent me from taking action.


    The blood of innocents was on my hands. Red trailed in my wake, but that would not stop me from seeking a better path. A brighter dawn.


    I could sense the awe-filled intent of the mages around me slowly growing in sync as they basked in the music I created. Gradually, even the skeptical dwarves began to listen, watching in shock and confusion as my magic brushed against their heartfires. Against their souls.


    As I gradually slowed my song, ending on a hopeful note, I observed the bow of my violin. It was a beautiful thing, my instrument. I could think of few things more wonderful.


    I could sense the intent of the soldiers around me in the empty aura of silence that trailed in the wake of my music. I was aware that it must have been far more powerful. Far more gripping than nearly anything else I¡¯d played before. The effect of a white core mage on the ambient mana was beyond anything a silver core mage could normally produce.


    And also¡­ I could almost feel it. The connection with each and every soul around me.


    If I stare at the sea of void beyond my soul, I thought, gazing at the ornate strings of my bow, will I be able to see the souls of these nameless mages, now?


    ¡°I can feel it,¡± Lusul said beside me, his voice cracking. ¡°Their intent¡­ Great Vritra, I can feel it.¡±


    I smiled slightly, patting him comfortably on the back. ¡°It¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡± I said wistfully. ¡°People feel so much. There¡¯s nothing quite like it.¡±


    Lusul stared at me, his almost-pink eyes blown wide. ¡°You can feel this¡­ with everyone? Every mage?¡± Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I can,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I wanted to show you this first, Lusul. Before I started teaching you how to project your intent into the mana, I wanted you to be able to know what exactly you were influencing. You needed to know the burden of it.¡±


    Lusul stared out across the crowd, who were shifting nervously and muttering as they looked at me as if they couldn¡¯t decide if I were a live wire or an inviting fire. ¡°This is what you seek to influence, Lusul,¡± I said solemnly. ¡°Each and every one of those intents? It''s more than just dough for you to manipulate and twist. Beneath every pulse and flare of intent is a person, a human being with thoughts and desires as deep as the sea.¡±


    I turned, pulling my violin back into my dimension ring. ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll show you true music.¡±


    I left the young Named Blood there, his eyes glassy and his intent trembling with realization.


    ¡°You do good work, my son,¡± Aurora said, her clockwork relic flitting around my shoulder. ¡°I always loved to sing, but I kept it to myself. As I watch you, I wonder¡­ I wonder if it was wrong of me to do so.¡±


    Not wrong, Aurora, I thought back. But it is a part of me, to be so open with my emotions and self to those around me. It isn¡¯t something anyone can do.


    Aurora was silent as I approached Barth the storyteller, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that ya were called Spellsong,¡± he said. ¡°I asked around; heard from yer troops that it was because of your magic music. Caught my attention, ya see. Cuz of my own craft. But hearin¡¯ it¡­¡±


    ¡°It is unique,¡± I said, noting how the dwarves around watched me. ¡°But I wanted to talk to you again, Barth. You¡¯re a storyteller, and I¡¯ve been reading up a lot on dwarven culture. But there¡¯s only so much you can learn from books and not firsthand experience.¡± I¡¯d gone through a dozen books on dwarven myths and legends, as well as their musical tomes to gain a better understanding of the stocky people. ¡°And pardon for pointing this out, but you are a half-dwarf. I figured you might be able to, well...¡±


    I trailed off awkwardly as Barth raised an eyebrow, a smile growing on his face. ¡°Tell ya in human terms, aye?¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°There ain¡¯t no better place, Spellsong! Come on and listen. There¡¯s never an excuse ta avoid a story!¡±


    And for the next several hours, I sat with Barth, helping distribute food and listening to folk tales not just from Darv, but Elenoir and Sapin too. It was a familiar action; one that made me think of Greahd and East Fiachra. It reminded me of Hofal¡¯s quiet talks that supported you like the stones and architecture he was so proud of.


    But even so, part of me felt¡­ Distant and detached. Guilt gnawed at my insides as awareness of this war¡¯s end loomed like a shadow in my mind. I¡¯d fostered unity among dwarves and Alacryans, but they would soon be conquered.


    And just like East Fiachra, this hovel of community I¡¯d carved for myself would shrivel away. I¡¯d be a part of it, true, but those within could never afford to know all of what I was.


    The realization was painful. I¡¯d scraped out little communities for myself in this world, but nothing that could truly accept everything of me. East Fiachra welcomed the young boy who grew up at the Healer¡¯s Guild. The dwarven rebels cheered for Spellsong, the Alacryan who brought unity. And the Rats needed a knife to sink into the stomach of Blood Joan and every blithe producer that ravaged Fiachra.


    But in the wake of my somber talk with Lusul, I realized that these small pockets of community would only ever know shades of the dawnlight in my heart. Never the full thing.


    The darkness of these caverns was affecting me more and more.


    But all good things had to come to an end. Eventually, as Barth finished up an old folk tale of how a dwarf sought to court Mother Earth herself¡ªhe¡¯d failed, simply becoming another bit of stone as all dwarves supposedly did on death¡ªI felt a slight mana pulse radiate from my breast pocket.


    I gracefully extracted myself from the storyteller, promising him another performance of my violin, before lifting into the air.


    I followed the mana pulse, trailing it like a hunter tracing a lead. Aurora¡¯s puppet flitted around me as I trailed out of the massive cavern of Burim, taking in the setting sun as it kissed the wine-dark waters in the bay.


    Seris waited for me high in the sky, regal as ever. The wind blew her silver hair like waves of platinum turned into pristine threads. As I rose into the air, she turned to greet me.


    ¡°Your performance for the dwarves was enlightening, Toren,¡± she said as I drifted close. ¡°With every passing day, I find the place I¡¯ve made for you to be even more fitting.¡±


    I kept my focus on the distant water, tracing the milling steamships as they belched black smoke into the darkening sky. Even as Seris linked her arm with mine, the wind cascading around us, I kept my focus forward. ¡°It¡¯s not an easy thing,¡± I started, ¡°integrating myself with these people as I work to bring about their subjugation.¡±


    Seris inspected me from the side, her arm squeezing mine in an imploring manner. Aurora¡¯s puppet settled on my shoulder, crooning softly. ¡°I wonder,¡± I said, feeling solemn. ¡°I¡¯ve learned so many stories from the dwarves in these past months. And I know what you¡¯re planning and hoping for in conquering them. But I can¡¯t help myself worrying, that when this is over, I will be the only one to know these stories. I¡¯ll be the last to remember them.¡±


    Seris would be able to push for Darv to be operated like Sehz-Clar if she were to personally emerge victorious over the dwarves. I already saw it in how the Alacryans under her command interacted with the dwarves, but¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be an archivist of the dead, Seris,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a grave keeper for them, masked as an inviting hand.¡±


    My lover was silent after my words. I could sense it in her intent¡ªmy words were making her think. She absorbed and cycled them within that terrifyingly brilliant mind of hers, looking for the perfect response to settle my mind at ease.


    ¡°You may very well be. I won¡¯t lie to you. I can¡¯t lie to you,¡± she said in a bit of a whisper as she drifted closer, savoring my body heat as our shoulders touched. ¡°I received word not long ago that our assault on Vildorial was successful. Alacrya holds the capital of Darv, and the country as a whole will not last much longer under our assault. And I will try to push my agenda as Agrona¡¯s hand sweeps across this continent, but we both know he will not tolerate dissent.¡±


    I took a deep breath, thinking of all the pieces in this war. Tonight, I would set out toward the Hearth, and I knew not how long I would be gone. The war could be over by the time I returned.


    ¡°There is something I need your advice on,¡± I said, pushing away from Seris slightly. ¡°About my fight with Viessa, and what I did wrong. Where I need to improve.¡±


    Seris¡¯ tilted her head as she looked at me. ¡°Where you need to improve, Toren?¡± she questioned.


    I hovered backward. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, my brow furrowing. ¡°I haven¡¯t been a white core mage long, Seris, but my battle with Viessa really cemented that for me. Not just that, though. I have so many abilities and capabilities, but I didn¡¯t utilize them all effectively. And beyond that, I¡¯ve grown reliant on certain senses. Specifically for heartfire and intent. When they were absent, I struggled to predict and react to my opponents.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s puppet fluttered on my shoulder, speaking her mind openly for the first time. ¡°I have taught Toren nearly everything he knows of combat, Seris Vritra,¡± she said, her clockwork puppet whirring. ¡°And we both agreed, on past review, that my son is in need of¡­ outside perspective to help him grow and utilize every ability in his arsenal, and truly soar as his bloodline demands.¡±


    My bond was reluctant to say as such. She held pride in her teachings and the warrior I had become, but admitting that they could be refined by another¡ªmuch less a Vritra-blood¡ªwas something that burned her.


    But my bond wouldn¡¯t let her pride get in the way of helping me improve. Of helping me become everything I could be.


    ¡°I need your help, Seris,¡± I said seriously, ¡°and I don¡¯t know when I¡¯ll get the chance again.¡±


    Seris¡¯ face slowly lit up with a genuine smile¡ªthe kind that always made my heart beat just a bit faster and the blood rush to my head. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, the gears of her brain turning.


    ¡°A puzzle you¡¯ve presented me with, then,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to help you solve it.¡±

 Chapter 250: Puzzles in Powers

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to explain,¡± I said, frowning at the three patches of blood in the sand. I could hear the little flickers of my heartfire within as they stayed for a short time in the crimson. ¡°But the aether within kind of¡­ pushes the mana along. Squeezes it and perpetuates its flow.¡±


    Seris stared down at Circe¡¯s array with a very, very speculative face. ¡°When you said you would tell me of your abilities, Toren,¡± she said slowly, ¡°I¡¯ll admit I was expecting something more¡­¡± She hesitated, finding her words. ¡°Impactful.¡±


    I snorted. After Seris had agreed to help me refine my abilities in combat, I¡¯d taken her up to the sands above Burim, and immediately laid out this little array. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like much, I know,¡± I said, sensing my tenuous connection to the dissipating lifeforce, ¡°but just watch.¡±


    I reached out a tendril of invisible heartfire, connecting me once more to the burning embers in my blood. Then, as I felt the strange connection between me and the blood, I snapped my fingers.


    The array flared to life, and mana and heartfire began to cycle. They perpetuated each other in a feedback loop as I withdrew the active touch of my heartfire, cycling round and round as they hummed with light. The effect was palpable in the ambient mana, a beacon to any nearby.


    Seris¡¯ eyebrows rose. ¡°I think I see now,¡± she said, stalking around the array as she scanned it over. ¡°The mana flow is far higher than it should be considering the previous dormancy of the mana you inputted into your blood. There is something else I cannot sense influencing this¡­ heartfire?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not able to use this exactly in the way the person I studied could. It was only when I realized that I can¡¯t influence lifeforce beyond my body that I truly realized my limitations¨Cand my strengths.¡±


    My insight into heartfire was derived from my personal experiences and a mesh of phoenix and djinnic insight. Circe Milview only had the touch of djinnic ancestry to guide her, as well as an entirely different perception of the world and all that was in it.


    Maybe somebody else could, but I wouldn¡¯t ever be able to manipulate heartfire that was no longer connected to me. Why could I? When a limb was severed, was one still able to move it? To twitch a finger or draw lines in the sand?


    It was contrary to my path of aetheric insight. Only with this understanding did I begin to focus inward instead of outward, leading to Resonant Flow.


    Seris¡¯ eyes widened as they traced the rebounding path of mana and aether. She moved a bit closer, seeming entranced by the interplay. ¡°And all it took was a little blood¡­ No, lifeforce. Such a ritualized magic could be used for many, many more applications than just a beacon.¡±


    A slight smile rose on my face. ¡°You¡¯re right about that,¡± I said a bit smugly, thinking of the technique I¡¯d developed using this concept.


    Seris strode from point to point to point, following each node of blood. Her eyes were fixed on the mana rather than me. ¡°Theoretically, the excess energy could be siphoned off and used to power artifacts,¡± she mused. ¡°It is an effective way to essentially increase mana production. Just use a little blood and an ignition primer of some sort¡­¡±


    My excitement very quickly started to dwindle. My arrogant smirk felt very frozen on my face as Seris continued nonchalantly.


    ¡°And if these flows were tuned correctly¡­ Hmmm¡­ Perhaps they could even be used to¡­ No, that would be supremely difficult.¡±


    Damn¡­ I probably should have thought of that, though doing so would be contrary to my insight.


    Seris looked up from her inventor¡¯s ramble, blinking as she saw the uncertain expression on my face. ¡°Why the look, Toren?¡± she queried, raising a brow.


    I coughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± I dismissed. ¡°Sometimes I forget that you''re a genius of many talents, including mana craft and artificing.¡±


    Seris¡¯ brows rose high in incredulity. ¡°If you have ever forgotten my virtues in any capacity, then I¡¯ve failed to live up to my moniker as Scythe,¡± she said simply. But her gaze softened as she noticed my slight awkwardness. ¡°You certainly wanted to create some sort of extravagant and wry show with this little array as a prelude to something bigger that you wanted to show off. Did I ruin your fun?


    I grumbled in slight annoyance. ¡°Yeah, a little,¡± I admitted with a bit of a sulk. ¡°It would have been very impressive. But it¡¯s also amazing that you saw so many possibilities so quickly, Seris. That¡¯s far more important than any sort of theatrics I could have played.¡±


    Seris rolled her eyes. ¡°Your sense of theatrics is what led to that entire scandal with the Ascender and the Sorceress. It was needlessly showy and over the top. If reminding you of my talents and virtues is all it takes to wipe that arrogant smirk off your face, perhaps I should do more to curb your excessive tendencies, Toren.¡±


    I snorted in response, feeling light at the recollection of that time. ¡°Please. You thought I was charming.¡±


    That earned a slight glare from the Scythe across from me. ¡°Charming? Absolutely not. Earnest, foolish, and overly idealistic? Yes.¡±


    I swiveled on my foot, not gracing the Scythe with a response other than a smug grin that was purposefully more shit-eating than usual. The emotions I sensed over her intent were enough to satisfy any sort of argument we might have had. ¡°Sure, sure,¡± I said leisurely. ¡°Tell that to your intent.¡±


    Seris: zero. Toren: one.


    Seris huffed in annoyance behind me, but I ignored it. ¡°Now, before you so rudely interrupted my theatrics with how brilliant and wonderful you are,¡± I said, closing my eyes as I focused on my heartbeat, ¡°I was going to show you this.¡±


    I took a deep breath, stoking my lifeforce. Then I pressed my heartbeat, demanding it to pulse.


    A wave of power radiated out from me as Resonant Flow engaged, heartfire streaming along and through my mana channels. I felt as they constricted and expanded in equal turn, the flow of mana perpetuating itself in a loop of power. The mana around me warped strangely.


    I opened my eyes, maintaining the technique for a few seconds as I stared at the Scythe. The scars across my body all burned with dawnlight as lifeforce misted from them like light through a window pane. Orange-purple cracks seemed to stretch over my heart, hands, and brow as I flexed my power.


    With every beat of my heart, it made the air around me tremble and resonate, the power behind it like a war drum. Seris¡¯ brows rose a fraction of an inch as her eyes roamed over my body in a way I couldn¡¯t tell was entirely appropriate, a bare smile tugging at the edges of her lips.


    And then I let it go, exhaling as I felt my heart ache from the use of the technique. I resisted the urge to groan, healing over the lingering strain on my mana channels and veins.


    Seris strode over, her eyes flickering as she traced a pristine finger along the scar on my chest. The flesh felt tender in the wake of Resonant Flow, and I restrained the urge to tense as the Scythe teased me. She raised her finger so it brushed against the bottom of my chin, then leaned forward ever-so-slightly. ¡°An interesting technique,¡± she said approvingly. ¡°Yet I can see from the sweat along your brow and the way your shoulders heave that it isn¡¯t one you use lightly. You cannot use this for extended periods, only short bursts. But is this all you want to show me? Or is there more? We need to know all you can do, after all.¡±


    I took Seris¡¯ hand in mine, squeezing it for a beat before I pushed it playfully aside. Her eyes narrowed. ¡°There is always more to show,¡± I said innocently. Then a little bit less innocently. ¡°But what you¡¯re doing with your intent¡­¡±


    Seris¡¯ smile¡ªand her intent¡ªwere both hungry in a way that made me realize I might be out of my depth. Aurora pointedly scoffed, turning her thoughts from mine as I digested interesting sensations from the Scythe¡¯s emotions.


    ¡°There¡¯s always room to grow stronger, Toren,¡± Seris sighed. ¡°I¡¯m merely practicing one such avenue. You see, I had a question of my own.¡±


    The Scythe circled me a few times, her face a careful mask. I turned, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I kept her in my sight. ¡°I¡¯ve been experimenting somewhat in your absence¡ªabout what intent is, and how it might be detected and controlled. You are not the only person to utilize this method to sense emotions, and I thought it wise to understand all aspects I could.¡±


    It was slow at first, but I could taste the emotions she ritually cycled through as she stared into my eyes. I could taste in some way that they were false, pretenses. There was amusement, distaste, melancholy¡­


    ¡°Hmm,¡± I said, not entirely impressed, ¡°that¡¯s neat, but I can tell when an emotion is only surface level. That¡¯s not going to fool¨C¡±


    Oh. And then there was that earlier¡­ hunger. Okay. That wasn¡¯t fake.


    ¡°Oh,¡± the Scythe teased coyly, drifting forward. ¡°I wondered if you could sense that. Interesting. Is it an entirely separate emotion or more¡­ distinct?¡±


    The way her lips curled around the word distinct served to do wonders in distracting me from what we should have been doing. Which was training. And figuring out mana. Something like that.


    ¡°And considering you can sense the intent of every mage that crosses your path, then have you felt this before?¡± The Scythe¡¯s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as she inspected me, a hand holding her chin.


    I blinked, opening my mouth to say something. ¡°Well, yeah,¡± I said a little dumbly. ¡°I¡¯ve sensed it from plenty of other¨C¡±


    That was when I finally felt the trap. As a mage who had been in and out of combat, I¡¯d gained a sense for when a serpent¡¯s jaws were closing around me. It was a crucial instinct that kept me alive. And as one of Seris¡¯ pure silver brows rose speculatively and sweat beaded down my neck, I realized that I was in a very, very precarious position.


    ¡°Plenty of other who, Toren?¡± Seris prodded again, raising her chin as she stared at me expectantly, still bludgeoning my intent sense.


    The Scythe¡¯s eyes narrowed into little pleased crescent moons as she watched me try and figure out what exactly I was supposed to say in response.


    In my previous life, there had been video games I¡¯d played where there were things called quick-time events. As I stood frozen for a very, very long second, I had the very real sense that I had missed a quick-time event of some sort. But I had no idea what sort of metaphorical button I should have pressed at that moment. I halfway considered begging Aurora for the right answer.


    Finally, I sighed in defeat, recognizing there was no way out. ¡°You win,¡± I admitted, ¡°I¡¯m still not going to say it.¡±


    Point to Seris. I supposed we were even, now.


    The Scythe patted me on the shoulder, seeming very, very pleased with herself. ¡°I told you that I always do,¡± she replied, amusement written clear across her features. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to try again, though? You might get a win somewhere.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes slightly at the very prim and proper-looking woman, noting the way she very intentionally kept a stoic and dignified exterior while basically attacking my intent sense. ¡°You are a scheming woman, aren¡¯t you? We¡¯re supposed to be sparring, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°Careful, Toren,¡± Seris replied playfully, a dark saber of mana sizzling into existence in her hands. ¡°I know my way around the blade. And the last time we sparred, I proved your superior.¡± Her silver eyelashes danced. ¡°Do you think you can manage a victory this time?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t one to back down from a challenge. I gradually felt a wry smirk grow across my face as I fell into my Acquire Phase, a shrouded saber coated in red plasma shimmering in my hands as I stretched my lifeforce out through my hands.


    ¡°You know something, Seris,¡± I said slyly, ¡°you might just get burned with the way you¡¯re pushing.¡±


    Without a hint of warning, I blurred toward the Scythe with a mindfire stamp, the saber in my hand flashing as shrouded wings grew around me. I felt the rising surge of adrenaline as I swung my sword in a crescent arc.


    But Seris easily shifted, parrying my blow in a dance of red and black. A buzzing sound echoed out as my shrouded saber rebounded off her dark mana blade. Her thin lips stretched into a smile as she flew back toward the Bay of Burim behind us.


    She swung her sword, and tendrils of dark energy grew from the tip of her weapon. They expanded, wreathed in purple-tinged dark fire as they raced for me like biting serpents.


    I parried a few with my blade, red sparks flying, before weaving around the snap of another. My shrouded wings flared as I coated them in a layer of disrupting sound, before using them to bat away a few tendrils.


    My sound spell detonated on contact, reverberating along Seris¡¯ dark energy as it traced back to her. Predictably, the Scythe sensed it coming, allowing those darting snakes of mana to fuzz away before my attack could land.


    I exhaled a breath, then blurred forward again, my wings carrying me through the air as my Acquire Phase burned hot in my veins. Seris casually flicked her mana blade at me, arrows of dark energy appearing whenever she swung her sword. They hissed as they flew toward me, promising decay and pain.


    In response, I pulled a dozen feathers from my shrouded wings, accelerating them toward each mana arrow like flickering wasps. Motes of contained fire and sound were barely compressed within as I sent them off like hummingbirds to intercept the Scythe¡¯s dark arrows.


    Wherever they met, my shrouded feathers detonated in a conflagration of fire and disrupting vibration¨Cyet surprisingly, Seris¡¯ mana arrows managed to fly through most of my retaliatory attacks relatively unscathed. I was forced to bat them aside with my shrouded saber and smash them out of the sky with fire-coated telekinetic pushes, yet wherever my blade sheared through a black arrow, they burst into spheres of purple-tinged soulfire that tried to bite at my skin. I had to dodge and weave out of the way of the remaining arrows, adrenaline pounding in my chest.


    I¡¯d been occupied by maneuvering around Seris¡¯ attacks, but I certainly sensed the next one coming. A wave of decay-attribute soulfire surged toward me from above, seeking to wither away my protections and consume me whole.


    I gritted my teeth as it approached, then engaged my regalia. A trilayer barrier of pushing force, oscillating sound, and humming fire thrummed as it rose to intercept the moon-blessed mage¡¯s attack.


    I felt Seris¡¯ fire eat and worm its way through my protections, gradually breaking them down as the expansive tide of dark casually pushed through. Sensing I wouldn¡¯t be able to maintain this, I flapped my shrouded wings, surging upward and relinquishing my barrier.


    And came face-to-face with the woman herself. My eyes widened in surprise as her lips neared mine, our heartfires roaring with adrenaline as the world seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes danced in a way I had never seen, her dark dress flaring around her as she blocked out the darkening sky. I tried desperately to pull my wings in closer; to move my blade between us as I sensed what was about to happen.


    Seris¡¯ hand, in a painfully slow movement, brushed against my chest. And then she pushed.


    I shot backward like a bullet, my telekinetic shroud splintering and breaking as a shockwave echoed around us. My body broke the sound barrier as I hurtled through the air, a tumble of limbs and wings as my vision spun.


    I didn¡¯t know how far I flew, but when I finally managed to get my senses back and stabilize my flight, I was halfway over the Bay of Burim, the sea glimmering beneath me with unfathomable depths.


    I focused on where I sensed the dark hurricane of Seris¡¯ power as she hovered far away, her hand still outstretched from her casual shove.


    Damn, I thought, gritting my teeth as my telekinetic shroud healed over. I flapped my wings, watching the dark mage warily. I knew Seris was powerful, but I never imagined the difference between us was this much.


    The Scythe¡¯s amused expression was my only reward for this entire spar.


    ¡°Come on,¡± she said chidingly as she locked her hands behind her back with the grace of a queen. ¡°I know you can do so much better than this. Where¡¯s the heat you promised me? I¡¯m not burned yet.¡±


    And then she fuzzed¡ªand blurred. She blurred, both in intent and heartfire. Not because she¡¯d masked them, no, but because she was just that¨C


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    I felt Seris¡¯ hand near my back, tinted with dark decay as it traced along my telekinetic shroud, withering it away with casual ease. I felt a rise of unconscious fear as she leaned over my shoulder, her silver hair splaying across my chest like patterns of moonlight. I froze as her lips brushed against my ear.


    ¡°Not fast enough, Toren,¡± she said in a low, haunting tone, her hand poised right over my heart. ¡°If you want me to help you¡­¡± Her fingers pressed deeper, finally touching my back. I felt the skin wither and die. ¡°You¡¯ll have to stop showing me so little.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t even sensed her approach, her speed that much beyond mine.


    I restrained the urge to swallow, feeling as if a reaper loomed over my shoulder with a scythe across my throat. My heartrate rose, in part from adrenaline and in part because of her closeness. I chanced a glance to the side, looking Seris in her dark, haunting eyes. Her lips were curled in what was almost a malicious smirk.


    ¡°You are a Scythe indeed. I think I let myself forget that too often, alongside all the genius.¡± I took a deep breath, even as Seris¡¯ warm fingers pressed against my skin in silent threat. ¡°But you can¡¯t discount me, either.¡±


    I embraced my Second Phase, feeling as my eyes burned and my hair shifted color. Mana rushed through my body in rejuvenating waves as the insight of countless asura hummed secrets of the world in the flow of my blood. I flexed my wings, then let them burst with a flare of telekinetic feathers, each imbued with white plasma.


    Seris was blown backward, her dark dress tumbling as my feathers chased her like streaks of light. She shifted her mana blade, then let it elongate into a many-tailed whip with ends of scathing soulfire. She snapped it, each of the tails surging for my feathers as they burned silently.


    Yet under my precise control, each of the feathers dipped under her questing whips. They surged unerringly toward her, primed to riddle her with sizzling holes.


    Seris frowned slightly, unperturbed, then flexed her mana. A translucent, dome-like barrier of black energy encompassed her like a cocoon, sheltering her.


    And then my feathers hit. They thunked into the barrier, the plasma and dark mana sizzling and burning as they sought to destroy each other. Yet Seris¡¯ stalwart shield easily repelled my telekinetic feathers.


    I shifted in the air, then raised a hand to point at that dark barrier. Fire and sound mana built in an intricate dance as I called on my core. When I exhaled, a beam of pure white plasma blurred forward like the spear of an asura, seeking the Scythe.


    Yet my brows rose in surprise as my white plasma struck Seris¡¯ barrier, and her barrier held. She was forced backward in the air, her shield sapping the mana from my spell and weakening it even as I maintained a continuous stream of energy. White fire sputtered around her as her small cocoon of energy strained. I could hear the increasing timbre of her heartfire as she finally began to struggle.


    I saw it through the translucent mana and interplay of our power. Seris¡¯ mana blade flashed, and a beam of dark energy began to push back against mine in a rumbling crash of mana particles.


    For a single moment, I could see the intricate mix of yin and yang as our inverse spells fought for purchase. I ground my teeth, feeling Seris¡¯ mana beam bearing down on my spell.


    Finally, I relented, allowing the Scythe¡¯s dark attack to overcome mine. I rolled to the side as it blurred toward me like an unrelenting eclipse of darkness, hoping I wouldn¡¯t get caught.


    I was too slow. The dark beam seared right through my shrouded wings, the humming energy passing by me and churning the waters.


    I stared down at the impact of Seris¡¯ attack on the ocean far below, feeling slightly annoyed. Was that what it was like to fight me when every burning attack simply ignored your defenses?


    I turned critical eyes to my drooping shrouded wings, a hole sheared straight through the right one. With an effort of will, the hole in the crystalline structure sealed over.


    I turned wary eyes back to Seris as she hovered in the air, her silver hair slightly mussed and her eyes sparkling. There was a slight grin on her face as she stared down at me, still protected by her mana barrier. She mouthed the words down to me, her intent simmering.


    Not hot enough.


    I rolled my shoulders, aware of Aurora¡¯s distance from me right now. It was harder to maintain control, harder to draw out the depths of my power in Soulplume without her. Yet this was a test of my abilities.


    I slowly lowered down to the surface of the water, still staring up at Seris as she hovered over the Bay of Burim, protected in her little shield spell. From the brief exchange we¡¯d had, I suspected she was a Shield by trade, her strengths in defending and waiting out the horde. I knew she wasn¡¯t giving her all in this spar¡ªafter all, she had other runes I knew of. One that drained the mana of the target in a dark fog, and another that detonated the enemy from the inside in a burst of black light.


    I narrowed my burning eyes¡ªlacking pupils, now¡ªas I stared up at the Scythe. She waited for me, of course. This little session was to help me grow and utilize everything in my arsenal¡ªwhich meant I should use everything in my arsenal.


    The water of the Bay of Burim was calm this time of night, even as the moon began to show her pale glow down on the water. A few ships still patrolled around the outskirts, huffing toxic smoke and chugging through the waters¡ªbut they were far enough away. When the soles of my feet touched the water, a simple ripple flowed outward.


    I allowed my shrouded wings to dissipate, relinquishing my hold on my heartfire as I slid my foot back, settling my stance as I stared up at the Scythe.


    You want heat, Seris? I thought, engaging my regalia. I¡¯ll show you why it¡¯s dangerous to dip your hand in fire.


    A long tube of focused, white telekinesis appeared in front and above me, humming and churning with energy. I felt a bit of strain on my mind as I pushed myself, lining up my sights with the Scythe on high. The amount of mana contained within the accel path made the air warp strangely.


    It was far easier than the first time I¡¯d performed this technique, but despite my emblem¡¯s upgrade to a regalia, it was still slightly taxing to maintain this pushing stream of power.


    I stared up at Seris, maintaining the stream with an effort of will. When she saw what I was doing, her eyes widened slightly behind her shield.


    Another shield grew, encompassing her like a blanket as she redoubled her defenses. I smiled through gritted teeth, then shook my head.


    Nope. Not enough.


    Seris¡¯ lips pursed, her intent clear with annoyance. Then she layered another shield over herself.


    I shook my head again.


    Seris huffed in exasperation, then conjured a fourth barrier around herself. By now, I could tell it was growing slightly strenuous for her as she reinforced it all with her mana, flushing an absurd amount into her defenses.


    I shrugged. It was worth a shot on her end, I supposed, but she wouldn¡¯t be able to stop this attack no matter how many shields she layered in front of herself.


    I conjured a shrouded saber in my hand, then flushed it with white plasma. The edge hummed provocatively as I stared up into the accel path in front of me.


    Seris¡¯ eyes darted to the blade in my hands, then widened even further as she finally recognized what I was about to do. I¡¯d told her the story of how I¡¯d slain Mardeth, after all. She knew this attack.


    My Scythe finally allowed herself to slowly fall, phasing through her shields as she made the smart choice. I only had a bare moment to see her expression¡ªequally interested and partially annoyed¡ªas I ground my teeth.


    Horizon¡¯s Edge, I thought internally¡ªthen let myself be taken by the accelerating path of telekinetic force.


    I¡¯d never be able to teleport like Arthur would. I¡¯d never get to truly bend the rules of this universe to cross space in a single step. My aetheric path was of vivum. Everything I did was focused on the body and the soul, not the space of dimensions or the twisting knot of time. Yet as the sound barrier broke like thundering glass around me and I felt the air burn for a split second, I wondered if this was what it was like, to teleport at a moment¡¯s notice.


    My body lurched for a split instant as I ascended at impossible speeds, my saber flashing. I could barely comprehend what happened as I swung my saber midway through my stairway to heaven, an arc of brilliant white that banished the night for an instant.


    And then I was at the top, looking down. I exhaled slightly, noting the darkness of the sky around me as night finally fell. My limbs burned and my core ached from the single use of that move, but my heartfire worked to ease over my sizzling skin.


    I slowly turned in the air, watching what was left of Seris¡¯ shields with a critical eye as they fell apart, cut cleanly in two. The shields belatedly exploded into conflagrations of dark fire and seething black mist, only now realizing that they¡¯d been cut.


    I looked down at where Seris observed what had happened to her spells with a critical eye. Sensing my attention, she turned to look up at me.


    ¡°Hot enough for you?¡± I mouthed, raising a brow as I casually flourished my shrouded saber. The blade hummed, my lifeforce coursing faster due to the beating of my heart.


    For once, I felt a bit of pride swell in my chest as Seris¡¯ face flushed slightly, before she settled down to the water below.


    Damn, that was satisfying. That was point two for me, then.


    I let my Second Phase drift back into my core as I followed suit, letting the currents of ambient mana set me down on the tides as a mother set her child on the ground.


    Aurora¡¯s Puppet Form flittered overhead, her emotions still slightly muted.


    I shoved my hands in my pockets, humming slightly as I approached. Seris managed to control the blood flowing to her cheeks, forcefully suppressing it¡ªbut the underlying currents of her intent told me another story. ¡°So,¡± I said casually as I looked down at her, ¡°I¡¯m wondering what lessons the great Scythe of Sehz-Clar has to teach me after all I¡¯ve shown her.¡±


    That elicited another spike in her intent, and absolutely no change on her face. She really wasn¡¯t accustomed to all this.


    This was fun. I could sense Seris¡¯ annoyance growing at the self-satisfied smirk on my face, which only served to heighten my amusement. She turned up her chin in a holier-than-thou way, narrowing her eyes.


    ¡°Your last attack¡ªwhile an impressive use of your abilities¡ªwould be very impractical in fast-paced combat,¡± she said sharply, crossing her arms in front of herself. ¡°I very graciously allowed you to try, but were we in true combat, I would have closed the distance or maneuvered out of the way of your attack well before you could pull it off.¡±


    I felt my smirk shift slightly as her words washed over me. No more fun, now. Now was the time to focus on what we were supposed to be doing. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said slowly. ¡°And it¡¯s difficult to adjust the accel path I put in place after I¡¯ve started compressing it¡ªespecially for an attack like that. Horizon¡¯s Edge is something of a last-ditch effort. A kill shot, if you get what I mean¡ªbut it leaves me open and predictable.¡±


    Seris considered. ¡°You can lay projectiles within these ¡®accel paths¡¯ of yours, yes?¡± she pushed. ¡°That is the origin of one of your other attacks. Your ¡®kill shots.¡¯¡±


    I nodded slowly, thinking of the Stake of the Morning. ¡°But it runs into the same problem. It can be formed faster now¨Cinfinitely faster than when I was a silver core with an emblem. But by their nature, it¡¯s easy for an enemy to predict the path of my attack and adjust accordingly. With the concentration of power required¡­¡±


    Stake of the Morning worked well on large, slow targets¨Cnamely, the final boss of the Undead Zone and Mardeth¡¯s static spell that I¡¯d obliterated. But when people were moving fast enough and trying to close the distance, it wasn¡¯t so easy to charge up an attack like that. If I wanted to use them, I needed to make an opening for them.


    Seris tilted her head, her mind shifting to a more analytical point of view. I could sense the change in her intent as she narrowed her eyes. ¡°Your regalia¡­ It is dreadfully versatile. Almost an affinity on its own. Yet you do not engage it like you should. Though the speed of your organic casting is notable, it is still a step behind that of your spellform,¡± she said after a moment. ¡°Is there not more you can do to integrate this ability into your others?¡±


    I opened my mouth, raising a hand. Then I closed it, considering Seris¡¯ idea as my eyes widened. ¡°You know, I never thought about it that way,¡± I said, feeling foolish for not having seen it before. ¡°I told you about the mental technique I use¨Ctemplate spells. As a white core mage, it isn¡¯t as effective a middle ground as it used to be, but maybe¡­ I can probably figure something out.¡± sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After all, Seris had given me my last puzzle to test my senses and fine-tune my control. My regalia indeed wasn¡¯t limited like other spellforms, and I needed to stop treating it as if it were.


    I trailed off, thinking deeply. Seris hovered closer, nuzzling up to my side in that way of hers. She felt surprisingly warm as she nearly purred like a cat. On instinct, I wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders. ¡°And how do you plan to make up for your lacking senses?¡± she asked with a contented sigh.


    I stared up at the moon, feeling the paradoxical rising and settling of my blood. Seris had that strange, strange effect on me. Where she made me both so relaxed and so passionate all at once.


    ¡°I fought a creature a while back in the depths of Burim¡¯s caverns that was able to track me using a sort of¡­ sonic echolocation,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m going to develop a spell similar to that to keep active.¡±


    ¡°And your heartfire abilities,¡± Seris said next. ¡°They can be used for more than healing.¡±


    I looked down at Seris, feeling suddenly uneasy. ¡°I use them mostly for healing,¡± I said slowly. ¡°That¡¯s the source of my insight.¡±


    ¡°I know, Toren,¡± Seris said with a suffering sigh. ¡°You might have been raised a healer, but medicines can become poison if granted in doses too potent. The petals of the shear-thorn alea make a wonderful tea, but when concentrated, their juices create a toxin so great that it causes most mages to die in minutes. The root of the gingernesh has herbal remedies, but when mixed with a simple spark of fire mana, it causes horrid rashes and itching that finally result in permanent loss of sensation across an affected area.¡±


    I swallowed uncomfortably.


    The silver Scythe gave me a deeply serious look. ¡°I can sense your reluctance, Toren. You know of what I imply, so I shall leave it there. But if you wish to grow stronger¡ªfor both of our sakes¡ªdo not disregard this path.¡±


    A silence grew between us as I stared off at the sea. Seris, thankfully, gave me time to think as she rested her head against my shoulder.


    I¡¯d been brought up on the principles of healing deep within the sterile halls of the East Fiachra Healer¡¯s Guild. The ideals and methods of saving lives were instilled deep into my soul there. And everything else stemmed from those desires and thoughts. That if someone was yet living, there was a chance to save them. That though one may wield a sword one day to kill a foe, the scalpel was never meant to kill. It was a blade wielded for your patients, not against them.


    I ground my teeth, acknowledging the truth of Seris¡¯ words as they contrasted darkly with my ideals.


    Ideals that I can¡¯t hold in war, I knew. Anything can be a weapon. Even a scalpel.


    I¡¯d never let myself think of what Seris said so openly. But she was right.


    ¡°There¡¯s also the matter of the soul,¡± I said after a while, desperately forcing my mind away from this topic, ¡°and what I can do with it.¡±


    Seris looked up at me, deeply curious as I spoke. ¡°You said something of this before,¡± she said slowly. ¡°About how you can touch your soul. And recently, you were able to heal the elven princess, no? Without direct contact.¡±


    I nodded slowly. The soul was a fickle thing, and I still had much to learn and understand within my Sea. ¡°I can see the souls of those close to me,¡± I said, tracing the constellations high above. ¡°Those that I am most connected to, and those who are most connected to me in turn. They burn in the abyss beyond my essence. Pushing. Pulling. Changing. And I can¨C¡±


    I blinked as I felt Seris¡¯ intent warp slightly, her hands clenching around my back. I looked down, feeling a spike of worry at what she felt.


    The Scythe was staring up at me, and her curiosity drifted to deep, deep uncertainty. ¡°You can see the souls of others, Toren?¡± she asked, her body shrinking slightly.


    ¡°I can,¡± I said softly, sensing why this must have been a sore spot for the Scythe.


    ¡°You can see mine.¡±


    ¡°I can.¡±


    Seris turned away, biting her lip as her emotions became more shrouded. I felt a pang of guilt and sorrow for her at the depths of what she felt. I squeezed her shoulder, hoping to convey my silent support.


    ¡°Seris, do you want to know what I see?¡± I asked, taking her chin and turning it back to me. ¡°I can tell you.¡±


    The Scythe looked up at me consideringly, and I could see the desire there. She did want to know what I saw in her soul.


    ¡°No,¡± she lied. ¡°I don¡¯t want to know, Toren.¡±


    Another mask taken away.


    Seris rested her head on my shoulder, burying her fears there for a moment as she gathered herself. I let her do so as we sensed what had to come next.


    ¡°I am envious of you,¡± she finally said, her voice muffled by the cloth of my loose clothes. ¡°You grow in strength and power so quickly. You¡¯re already nearly a match for me in strength despite the short time you have spent in this world. So rarely do I find the opportunity to grow. To change and improve. But you¡­¡±


    I rubbed circles on Seris¡¯ back as she absorbed my warmth, quietly contemplative. ¡°You have changed, Seris,¡± I said solemnly, taking her chin in my hand again. I tilted it upward, looking her in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it. I¡¯ve sensed it. Please don¡¯t doubt that. It¡¯s what makes you so very human.¡±


    Seris smiled slightly. ¡°You and your sharp tongue, Toren,¡± she chided, though her words were soft.


    We shared a brief kiss there, hovering over the water. When we separated, I felt that infuriating pull even longer. The acknowledgment that I would soon have to leave.


    I pulled something from my dimension ring, feeling its heft and weight. Inversion radiated subtle waves of power as it shone against the darkened night, that strange connection the horn shared with me becoming prevalent once more.


    I held the horn out to Seris, looking into her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ll be gone, but this horn carries something of me inside of it,¡± I said. ¡°I know it¡¯s not much, but¡­¡±


    Seris¡¯ dark eyes danced as she gingerly took the burning white horn from my hand. Her hands immediately began to blacken as the texture of Inversion burned against her blood, but she didn¡¯t show any sign of feeling it. I¡¯d seen her eying the horn more than once with a characteristic intensity that told me she was itching to figure it out.


    ¡°So strange,¡± she murmured, looking at the patterns of orange and purple along the veins. ¡°You said this horn once belonged to a basilisk, no? One named Brahmos.¡±


    I nodded slowly, eliciting a contemplative hum from the Scythe. ¡°Yet now, it rejects my blood,¡± she said with quiet wonder. ¡°It is fascinating, Toren. Do you understand how it does this?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Truthfully? No. I told you of how I first turned the horn to¡­ whatever it is now, but I still don¡¯t entirely understand what it is, or how it works.¡±


    Seris looked back up at me, the horn clenched tightly in her fingers even as her hand sizzled. ¡°Then that will be my gift to you upon your return,¡± she said. ¡°This is the puzzle I will work on. I admit that I was in the process of making more puzzles for you to solve while we were apart, but I think the pieces I¡¯ve laid before you tonight will prove more challenging than anything else.¡±


    I chortled lightly. Indeed, trying to centralize my fighting style and improve upon my abilities was an interesting puzzle¡ªbut that had been why I¡¯d asked Seris for help in the first place. She had an uncanny ability to see everything from afar. Not just each individual piece, but how they all interacted and meshed together.


    Already, I had several ideas for how I would push myself to develop my powers in this proceeding time. I just needed to assemble the puzzle she¡¯d laid before me.


    But as Aurora¡¯s relic flitted around us, the understanding that I couldn¡¯t keep Seris in my arms for much longer settled across my shoulders like a lead weight. ¡°I¡¯ll bring good news from the Hearth, Seris,¡± I promised. ¡°I won¡¯t let your hope go to waste.¡±


    Seris sighed contentedly as we finally separated. ¡°I know you will, Toren,¡± she said. ¡°It will not be easy, all on my lonesome in the depths of Darv. But I will manage.¡±


    My heart sank a bit at her playful words as I was reminded of Cylrit¡¯s current position in Vildorial. Seris would be alone, but she could take care of herself. I suspected the war would be over by the time I returned, but I still worried for my Scythe.


    My emotions settled as Seris drifted back toward the cavern of Burim, her passing like some sort of ethereal fae.


    ¡°Are you ready, my son?¡± Aurora¡¯s thoughts eased against mine like the stroke of a painter¡¯s brush. ¡°Are you ready to meet our family?¡±


    I turned slightly, orienting on the far east expanse of this continent. The Grand Mountains and hundreds of miles of the Beast Glades barred my way, but it wouldn¡¯t stall me.


    ¡°I¡¯m ready, Aurora.¡±

 Chapter 251: Between the Colors

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    ¡°It¡¯s your fault, you know,¡± I said softly, leaning my back against the cool stone outside the cell. ¡°None of it would¡¯ve happened without you.¡±


    The target of my words didn¡¯t respond. She didn¡¯t shift or speak. But she never did. Still, I¡¯d been coming down here for the past week, just talking. Accusing.


    I tilted my head, my silver bangs covering an eye. ¡°I asked myself why. And I realized¡­ Your people¡­ you had to enjoy it. I don¡¯t see how else you could do so many horrible things. Kill so many and ruin so many good things.¡±


    People people people, Willow crooned within my core, shifting slightly. Good good good.


    I¡¯d said the same things over and over. Maybe if I said them enough, it would start to hurt my enemy. Start to really get under her skin.


    But as I chanced a glance into the cell where Mawar was chained, I knew none of my goading words had any effect. The Retainer¡¯s pale skin was clammy and sunken from a week of deprivation, her cheeks hollow and white hair disheveled. Yet her red eyes were empty and devoid of inflection.


    It had only been a week. Only a week since¡­ since Art¡ªGrey?¨C-declared himself King. And I still didn¡¯t know how to¡­ didn¡¯t know if I could process it all. Things seemed to happen around me, fading into the background noise as the world parted like a stream around an uncomprehending rock.


    When I was a child in Elenoir, a human merchant showed me a toy popular in Sapin. It was a wind-up bird with a gear on the back that you twisted and twisted, and once you let go, the little toy would bounce and peck at the ground as if compelled. But there was no thought behind the action. It was just that: mechanical. Preordained.


    I felt like one of those toys. Every action I took nowadays was like the peck of that toy, driven forward by tension and gears within my soul. My bones were brass. My muscles gears, and my blood oil.


    But there was a time when I allowed myself to think. When I gave myself a chance to try and remember being Tessia.


    ¡°It¡¯s tiring,¡± I said quietly, slumping against the back of the wall. ¡°Fighting all you Alacryans off. Day in and day out. Before you, things were getting better, you know? The races had fought for so long. Even back in Grandpa¡¯s day. But we were making progress toward peace. But then you swept in, like a plague.¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t a plague,¡± Mawar said suddenly, shocking me. I blinked in surprise, baffled to hear her voice at all.


    I shifted, inspecting the inside of the cell. Mawar turned away, seeming to belatedly realize she had spoken.


    Plague, I thought with dark humor, noting how this was the first time I¡¯d ever heard the Retainer unsettled. She doesn¡¯t like being compared to the rot her people are.


    ¡°You are a plague,¡± I bit back, glaring into the cell. ¡°A rot that creeps up into our healthy flesh, withering and decaying and breaking it all down. That¡¯s all you¡¯ve ever been when you landed on our shores.¡± I laughed humorously as I watched Mawar cringe inward, each of my words striking her somewhere deep in her mana core.


    It was so amusingly simple. She¡¯d remained stalwart against all my taunts and words so far. But really, plague?


    ¡°Even the men you attacked my family with¡ªattacked my mother with¡ªonly served to infect our veins with poison. That¡¯s what you did to my Grandpa,¡± I hissed. ¡°That¡¯s what you did to my mother.¡±


    Mawar turned away, cringing inward as the word mother echoed around her cell. She looked weak, like a chained scarecrow. No longer was she a dark shadow, the same one I¡¯d fought and battled over and over in my nightmares.


    Battle battle battle, Willow echoed. Over over over.


    And as I stared at the broken figure as she tried to shy away from me¡ªas if I were a burning fire¡ªI suddenly felt a swell of guilt. I remembered how I¡¯d moralized and belittled other children at Xyrus, leveraging my perceived high ground over them.


    But I ground away that guilt: because this Retainer was exactly what I accused her of being. She wasn¡¯t some sad, broken girl. Her actions had consequences.


    ¡°My mother will come,¡± Mawar finally said, trying desperately not to look at me. As if the very outline of my figure would burn her to her core. ¡°She¡¯ll take me from here.¡±


    She didn¡¯t seem to convince herself of that, either. I thought about how I could reply. I didn¡¯t know who Mawar¡¯s ¡°mother¡± was, but Uto¡¯s mind had been shattered months ago, and he had found no salvation. He had discovered no respite from the demons crawling about his wretched head.


    I could make that point, grind it in even further. But as I stared at the Retainer, I realized that she already knew that.


    She would never see the light of the sun again, and no words I uttered would hurt her more.


    I chuckled darkly, wondering where this vindictive, hateful side of me had come from. Had it always been there, or was this what war did to people? I didn¡¯t know.


    I turned around, feeling darkly resolved. I rolled my shoulders, my eyes tracing the damp ceiling high above. The stench this far below was horrible. The kind that clung to your skin and clothes and nose and wouldn¡¯t leave without a thorough shower. ¡°Sometimes, Mawar,¡± I said absently, ¡°your parents¡ªyour mother¡ªwon¡¯t come to save you. You think they¡¯re the most powerful, greatest thing in the world. But sometimes you fall, and there are no arms to catch you.¡±


    And all you can do is haul yourself back up, I thought, feeling my mind finally clear for the first time. All you can do is take action for yourself.


    ¡ª


    I took a shower after that. A deep, cleansing shower that seemed to draw the stench and sweat from the very pores of my pale skin. I lingered there for a time, letting the steam twist and warp around me like the mists of Elshire.


    When servants came to clothe me, I allowed them to pat me down with scented towels, but I reserved my selection of dress for myself. There was a balance I needed to maintain between the soldier and the princess, especially for what I planned next. The vague idea that had been sifting through my mind had finally cemented into something truly concrete.


    As I walked through the halls of the flying castle, my mind¡ªseeming cleared of an effervescent fog¡ªpicked up on more than it had in the past seven days. The march of guards and the movement of clerks and servants were subtly different. There was an aura of uncertainty within each and every shifting soul as they trailed through the castle, but there was also something else. Something I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on.


    A shuffling servant gave me a short, respectful bow as she passed, a handful of papers in her hands. ¡°Princess Tessia,¡± she said, before making a step to move away.


    I caught her by the arm before she could, causing her to freeze in surprise. ¡°Easy, miss,¡± I said calmingly, releasing my hand as she stared up at me. ¡°Could you tell me what you¡¯ve been doing these past few days? Not just you, but your department as a whole?¡±


    I recognized her as part of the information division from the patch on her shoulder, but as I thought about it more, dredging up deeper memories, I realized I¡¯d seen a lot more of the information division recently.


    ¡°Oh, Princess,¡± the woman said in a hushed tone, looking both ways. ¡°Well¡­ the new King has been ordering things differently. He said that our network was inefficient, or something. He made a lot of nobles angry, my lady. But he¡¯s forcing us to change how we report and deliver information. Miss Alanis Emeria is in charge of the reorganization as acting secretary.¡±


    I asked a few more questions of the nervous woman, before giving her leave. She rushed away with a strange mix of anxiety and inspired drive. My brow furrowed as I took the time to digest all of the things she¡¯d told me.


    Things are being restructured. Before, many of the information networks that served to deliver reports to the Council were threaded through a dozen different nobles in appointed positions, but from what I gathered, those had been summarily pushed from their positions with an iron fist and different men placed in those positions. And sometimes the entire branch is just¡­ closed. Like he¡¯s cutting off an unneeded limb.


    I stood there in the hallway for a time, just thinking about all of it. Grey¡­ he¡¯d done this before, hadn¡¯t he? Or something like it? I¡¯d never seen a coup d''¨¦tat in my life, but as part of my royal upbringing, I¡¯d read about them. They were usually messy, bloody affairs filled with carnage and chaos.


    But this was so orderly.


    Efficient, like an unerring spell that shot toward a target.


    I felt a bit of a looseness in my bones. Did I ever really know Art? I wondered. Is this him? Is this Grey?


    Willow¡¯s soothing balm across my mind didn¡¯t help this time, but I¡¯d already made my decision. I smoothed out my clothes¡ªdesigned more for battle than for aesthetics¡ªand resumed my march toward my destination.


    I reached the council doors easily enough. Those looming monoliths always seemed to mock me in days long past. Look at the little Princess, they¡¯d say. Look at how she seeks to enter a place fit only for her betters. Turn back, pane of glass, they¡¯d continue. Turn back, and go do something fit for one of your fragility.


    But as I stared up at those doors, I saw the truth. Those doors kept themselves locked to keep me safe. To protect me from whatever was inside. They didn¡¯t want me to dip my toes into the blood, lest I submerge myself and drown.


    I pressed my hand against the door, feeling the smooth texture of the metal beneath the pads of my fingers. The entire council room was warded, of course. Warded by magics and powers unfathomable to even the greatest of Dicathen¡¯s artificers. I couldn¡¯t hear anything inside, but that wouldn¡¯t stop me.


    I exhaled, then called on my Elderwood Guardian Will. The power flowed through my veins like morning dew. Willow rose to the forefront of my thoughts, bolstering me as I exhaled.


    And as my power¡ªmy insight¡ªdeepened, I could sense the rhythms that flowed through the air beyond me.


    ¡°¨Cbut the sketches you showed me¡­ We don¡¯t have any sort of chemical material that reactive,¡± the familiar voice of the mad artificer, Gideon, echoed out uncertainly. ¡°I see how it could work if there were something like that! It¡¯s genius, I tell you. To make the muzzle threaded to make the projectile spin¨C¡±


    ¡°Gideon,¡± Art¡¯s voice¡ªso stern and cold¡ªscythed across the artificer¡¯s rambling. ¡°You say you don¡¯t have the means to make the explosive substance?¡±


    There was a grim silence following Arthur¡¯s words. I could almost taste the discomfort as I pressed myself closer to the doors. Gideon coughed a few times. ¡°Yes, er¡ªArthur. Everything else can be done: maybe even mass-produced as you wanted. But the powder¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple ratio, Gideon. Seventy-five percent saltpeter. Fifteen percent charcoal dust. Ten percent sulfur. I expected this continent to have more advanced knowledge of chemistry, but I can understand why you wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    A hesitant voice spoke next. My father¡¯s. ¡°Arthur, I¡­ I don¡¯t see how this helps us. This new weapon of yours is great, certainly¡­ But how does it solve the problems we face now?¡±


    There was another beat of silence before Arthur responded. ¡°The citizens of this continent are weak,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Weak, easy prey. The mana beasts from the Glades tear them apart as if they are ants at the bottom of the food chain. Agrona has reminded us all where the nonmages of this continent truly stand. What their true value is.¡±


    A voice sneered in contempt, crackling through Arthur¡¯s words. ¡°For all your talk of being a good king,¡± Lance Bairon hissed, ¡°That¡¯s an awfully wretched way to talk of the people you¡¯re supposed to be protecting, Arthur Leywin.¡±


    A beat of silence. Two. And then the pressure radiated through and around me, suffocating the air from my lungs. I felt my hold on my Will slip as my legs turned to jelly, the mana itself compressing inward on me. Judging me. Holding me in contempt. It was as if the World itself had deemed me unfit.


    Arthur¡¯s intent, I realized, sweat beading on my temples as I struggled not to fall. And I¡¯m not even the focus. How in the name of the forests¨C


    ¡°I am your King, Lance Wykes,¡± Arthur¡¯s cool voice said. ¡°And that I will be, so long as the Vritra threaten all of Dicathen. The very tether of your artifact is bound to me. You. Are. My. Subject. And in turn? I am your king.¡± A long, uncomfortable pause. ¡°You will treat me as such, or you will not speak at all.¡±


    Arthur¡¯s intent lessened, receding back and allowing me to gasp for breath. I blinked stars out of my vision, trying not to stumble back or make a sound.


    Bound bound bound, Willow communicated unhelpfully. King king king.


    ¡°But I have yet to answer Councilman Alduin¡¯s question,¡± Arthur said after a moment. ¡°Mankind is a fickle thing. Our bodies are weaker than those of mana beasts. We¡¯re prone to death and disease. But what sets us apart? It is our ability to craft tools and solutions to solve the problems in our path. You know of swords and axes and shields, councilors. But you do not know what a little gunpowder can do to ravage the balance of a war.¡±


    I leaned my back against the cool, metallic doors, trying and failing to process all that Arthur was saying. He was introducing some kind of weapon from his previous life?


    ¡°You are all dismissed,¡± Arthur¡¯s voice cut through my thoughts. ¡°You will attend me here tomorrow at the same time, where we will discuss how to inform the wider continent of the changes in their leadership. The morale of the people is low, and we need a way to make an¡­ impact.¡±


    I blinked, registering the words. Then I cursed, recognizing my position. I hastily scrambled to my feet, then conjured a swirl of vines around me. With a twist of willpower, silver flowers blossomed along their verdant lengths, before breathing cloaking mist along my form.


    Hastily, I darted to the side of the room. I bent my legs, trusting I would be fast enough, before I jumped. I surged upward, before jamming my vines into the walls near the ceiling. The mist hung around me, hopefully making my presence difficult to sense.


    The doors slammed open with the sound of a ringing gong, wind blowing in their wake. I watched with hard eyes as Bairon Wykes stormed from the room, little crackling nimbuses of electricity following him like fireflies. He clenched his teeth so hard I feared they might crack, his face red with fury and shame. His hair was mussed and in disarray, and his forehead was bleeding slightly. It appeared as if he¡¯d slammed his face into a brick wall with undue force.


    I had never liked the human Lance. He¡¯d always come off to me like the arrogant noble kids at Xyrus, but aged up. That holier-than-thou attitude had always grated against my nerves.


    Perhaps that was because I bore the same attitude, I thought as I watched the man stomp away. I wasn¡¯t always the¡­ most gracious of Student Council Presidents.


    The rest of the councilors weren¡¯t far behind. Mom and Dad trailed out uncertainly, but there was a solidness to their steps that told me they weren¡¯t broken. Dad¡¯s face was pinched slightly, and Mom looked somewhere between confused and hopeful. She¡¯d finally been healed in the past few days, enough to rejoin the Council. It must have been a painful return.


    Mom had talked to me, thanking me for saving her. She¡¯d held me as I cried, weeping for all that was lost in so little time. And Dad? Dad had questioned me on¡­ what Arthur was.


    And I had answered truthfully: that I didn¡¯t yet know.


    Blaine and Priscilla Glayder were next. Priscilla¡¯s normally even expression was taut in a way that told me she was restraining her anger, while the former human king just looked¡­ tired. Weary and exhausted, with the slump of his broad shoulders and the hollowness in his eyes.


    Elder Buhndemog Lonuid exited last, with Gideon clinging nervously to his side. The artificer always seemed frazzled, with his greasy dark hair and burned labcoats, but the man seemed especially nervous about the prospect of even looking back. A notebook was clutched tightly in his hands.


    I prepared to lower myself to the ground in preparation for my plan. After all, the councilors had all left, and I knew Lance Varay and Lance Mica were stationed along Sapin¡¯s southern border in preparation for a potential forward assault from the Alacryan-held capital of Darv.


    But as I prepared to enact my plan, I felt the sudden urge to just turn around and race back to my rooms, pretending I¡¯d never been there in the first place. Here was the point of no return, after all. I was afraid of what was going to happen. Afraid of what I might hear and learn.


    I¡¯d told Dad that I¡¯d learn who Art truly was. Did I¡­ Did I want that?


    But then another person walked out. Elder Rinia looked like a simple gust of wind would blow her away, each individual bit of flesh fit to just dissolve into ash. Director Goodsky¡¯s old bond sat primly on her shoulders. Yet when she looked up at me, seeming to know exactly where I was, there was a kindly smile on her wrinkled face. A knowing smile.


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    I opened my mouth to speak at how easily she pierced my veils¡ªmaybe to apologize or make some excuse¡ªbut she only continued on her way, acting as if she hadn¡¯t seen me at all. The tap-tap-tap of her cane on the solid stones echoed as she heaved herself away, seeming to lose a bit more of herself with each movement.


    I felt a surge of worry grow in my chest as I watched Aunt Rinia go. Grandma died because of overusing her divination powers, I thought, feeling a bit of adrenaline course through me. She saved Grandpa, but¨C


    ¡°You can come in, Tess,¡± Arthur¡¯s voice echoed from within the council room. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been listening.¡±


    That pushed away all other thoughts. And as I searched deep within myself for my resolve, I pushed away my earlier doubts.


    I dropped to the floor without a sound, pulling Willow back into my core. I took a deep breath, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders.


    I was the Princess of Elenoir. It was my duty to present myself as regal and capable, especially when facing other royalty.


    I stepped through the wide-open doors of the council room, each door silently sorrowful that I had finally breached their barrier.


    Arthur lounged casually on a throne conjured of ice and earth. He wasn¡¯t elevated highly, but as I craned my neck slightly to look up at him, I felt something in my body tremble. The throne was intricate, splashed through with streaks of red fire, green wind, and bright electric patterns. It seemed to encompass the entire world in every one of its elemental expressions, even though it was barely larger than the other councilor¡¯s seats all around it.


    He was dressed deceptively simply. A close-fitting gray tunic hugged the sculpted muscle of his chest, and loose, combat-oriented black pants completed the ensemble. I was used to seeing royalty array themselves with gaudy jewelry and luxurious robes, flaunting their wealth and power. The Glayders wore priceless artifacts, and even my parents made sure that their robes were of the finest silks within Elenoir.


    But Arthur didn¡¯t need such ostentation. The aura he radiated was of quiet strength and surety. Jewels and precious stones would only sully the sharpness of what he was, diminish the authority he radiated.


    He had cut his long, auburn hair. Where before it had trailed down nearly to his back, now it brushed his shoulders and hung in loose waves. A slight stubble the color of autumn leaves adorned his sharp jaw, which looked surprisingly fitting on him.


    But his azure eyes¡­ there was something cold in them that made me hesitate as he stared at me, one leg crossed over another with regal surety.


    He looked like a king.


    I remembered that time when he¡¯d looked down on the Trailblazers atop a mountain of mana beast corpses, his expression hard and empty. I¡¯d felt worried and uncertain, then. Fearful that who I was looking at wasn¡¯t my childhood friend.


    And as I stared up at this new King of Dicathen, I wondered if I had ever known him.


    Yet I froze in my painful introspection as Taci Thyestes¡¯ olive-green eyes bored in and through and past me. The young pantheon asura¡ªappearing younger than me¡ªstood ramrod straight at Arthur¡¯s left hand as he gave me a look I recognized was reserved only for enemies.


    Arthur¡¯s face wrinkled slightly. Sylvie¡ªwho had been looking at me with a sad smile from Arthur¡¯s right¡ªshifted.


    ¡°Taci,¡± Sylvie said, her smile fading away as she broke the silence, ¡°follow me, please.¡±


    Sylvie stepped out from Arthur¡¯s throne, her dark dress swishing and the horns along the side of her head darker than night. She stared at Taci, quietly commanding. For the first time, I didn¡¯t see a young woman. I saw something of the asura she was.


    Taci¡¯s eyes flicked to Arthur, who had remained silent, then to Sylvie. His brow wrinkled. His hands clenched. ¡°I am your servant,¡± he finally said, though the words seemed to physically pain him.


    Sylvie began to walk toward the doors, her amber eyes softening slightly as they met mine. She led Taci out the door, his intent sending goosebumps along my flesh.


    And then the doors closed behind them with a subtle click, leaving me alone in the room with Arthur. Gazing down from his throne.


    My mouth suddenly felt dry as I once again felt doubt about my plans.


    Then, Arthur sighed, uncrossing his leg from where it rested on his other knee. As he stared down at me, I thought I could see something pushing through the cold apathy that burned in his pupils like winter ice.


    The throne began to melt and crumble beneath him, the ice and earth and splashes of other elements fading away as he heaved a breath. And before long, we stood on the same level of ground once more. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tess,¡± he said, breaking eye contact and staring at something on the council table. ¡°Taci will only listen if the orders come from Sylvie, and I can¡¯t¡­¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t show weakness around him,¡± I finished, thinking of the charged interactions I¡¯d seen between the two on that fateful day not long ago. ¡°You need to¡­ need to be a king.¡±


    Arthur¡¯s auburn hair shadowed his face slightly as he kept his intent focused on whatever was on the council table. ¡°I do.¡±


    The silence lingered for a time. I got the sense Arthur knew what I was going to ask. His shoulders weren¡¯t quite taut like I saw in most warriors when they were worried or ready for battle, but that wasn¡¯t how Arthur showed his worry. Throughout my upbringing in Elshire, I¡¯d learned that Arthur didn¡¯t tense up when he expected a fight, when he expected to be struck. He loosened instead, his body becoming limber enough to roll with each blow.


    And as I noticed this¡ªnoticed the traces of things that could only be Arthur¡ªI allowed myself to finally speak.


    ¡°Who was King Grey?¡± I finally asked. ¡°Who was he, in this other world?¡±


    Arthur didn¡¯t respond at first. He had a look on his face that told me he was thinking deeply. It was etched into the lines of his jaw and the twist of his lips, only accentuated by his slight beard.


    It made him look so much older.


    ¡°Could you come here, Tess?¡± he finally said, looking up at me. ¡°I can¡¯t just tell you if you want to understand. I need to show you.¡±


    He asked for you to move, I thought, beginning to walk forward. Kings don¡¯t ask. They command.


    I thought I was starting to understand already. I walked silently around the table, before standing a few feet away from Arthur. Distantly, I was aware of a small dent in the nearby tiles and a splash of blood there, but Arthur paid it no mind.


    I could finally see what he was looking at with such a fierce expression. A map of Dicathen, annotated and marked with a hundred different scribbles and notes. With a cursory glance, I noticed the places where beasts had massacred towns laid out with tiny pins, and another few pins where Aya had managed to disassemble the Alacryans¡¯ attempted sentry chain through Elshire.


    ¡°You know what it is like to fight on the battlefield,¡± Arthur said, his tone soft. ¡°To bleed and watch your comrades die around you.¡± His calloused hands brushed against the map, circling a town I knew. Slore. ¡°And you¡¯re a good person, Tess. One of the best I¡¯ve ever known. You feel each loss of life in your heart, wondering if you could have done something different. Could have saved more people.¡±


    I felt my chest clench painfully as I inched closer, staring down at the map. There were so many pins for each slaughter across Sapin. Easily a dozen.


    ¡°Grey isn¡¯t really a person,¡± he said after thinking for another minute. ¡°He is a weapon. A sharp blade that can be wielded to cut anything in his path. But steel doesn¡¯t care what it cuts; not really. And steel can cut its wielder as easily as anything else.¡±


    For the first time, Arthur looked up at me. That cold, dread apathy was gone from his azure eyes¨Cand in its place, I saw another familiar emotion. One I hadn¡¯t expected.


    Fear.


    ¡°In my previous life, I was not a good man. After a time, I wasn¡¯t even truly a man. Just a husk, going through the mechanical motions of life. But I left much in my wake.¡± S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I remembered Aldir¡¯s words to Arthur, barely heard as I struggled not to succumb to his leashed intent.


    There are countless more dead in your wake than Agrona has ever laid claim to in this war, and even now, your mind is more pantheon than man.


    I swallowed, trying to reconcile that with all I knew of Arthur. Of the boy I¡¯d played with in Elshire; who I¡¯d teased all throughout my time at Xyrus Academy. And I found I couldn¡¯t. It didn¡¯t make sense.


    But if I twisted my vision, just a little bit. Whenever Arthur got angry. Got truly scary. Like when lounged atop that mountain of mana beast corpses like a king, or when he sparred with Grandpa when we were little. A dozen smaller interactions like that¡­


    Arthur couldn¡¯t do any of this. But Grey could.


    ¡°When I awoke in another world,¡± Arthur continued, his attention glued to the map where it listed the dead, ¡°I found a second chance. A chance to be everything that Grey wasn¡¯t and make good on everywhere he failed. I didn¡¯t think I deserved it, but that didn¡¯t stop me from trying. Trying to have a fulfilling life¡­ with family. Loved ones. People I could call my own, that would keep me from becoming what I once was.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond, still trying to understand it all. To make sense of how my world had been shifted.


    I¡¯d been worried, in the recesses of my mind. Worried that what I¡¯d known of Arthur was all some sort of elaborate lie. That everything we¡¯d shared had been fake; that his true face was Grey. But in a way, this was worse. Because I didn¡¯t know how to respond, not really. If it were all just a lie, I could rage and shout and lash out at Arthur. I could have a target for my fury.


    ¡°And I can see him even now, Tess,¡± Arthur said, turning his head away from me. He stared at the far wall, his blue eyes sharpening as they caught on something I couldn¡¯t see. ¡°A phantom of King Grey, lingering always at the edges of my perception. Whenever I turn my head, he¡¯s there in the shadows. I can feel the weight of his gaze on my back whenever I close my eyes, and I worry that I am growing mad. That something in me has broken.¡±


    Arthur¡¯s shoulders shuddered. His chest trembled, and suddenly all that sculpted muscle seemed to sink inward, unable to bear the weight that it was tasked with upholding. ¡°Sylvie can¡¯t see him, even when I share my memories. So I¡¯m left alone to feel his judgment. To wonder if I will be able to win this war; to be what this continent needs. But if I¡¯m already mad before I have even begun¡­¡±


    The council room was silent. No clashing of of blades, no surreal mage king. Just a person not knowing what to do next.


    And finally, I held out my hand, taking Art¡¯s in mine. I interlaced our fingers, clasping them together like two halves of a locket shutting closed. He seemed surprised by the gesture, looking up at me with eyes deep as the sea. I found myself tracing the lines of his sharp features, admiring the beard he was growing out. It fit him well. Looking at him, I couldn¡¯t imagine he was only seventeen, only a year younger than I was.


    But I supposed he never was.


    ¡°Come on, Art,¡± I said softly, tugging on his hand. ¡°I want to show you something.¡±


    ¡ª


    The trek to our destination could have gone faster, were we to engage our mana and truly rush. But I set the pace as I held Arthur¡¯s hesitant hand in mine, feeling the intricacies of how his worn and calloused palms interlaced with my fingers. His hand was larger than mine. Much larger, but somehow, they seemed to fit together like a glove.


    How can two hands so easily become one? I wondered as I gently led Arthur along familiar hallways. It doesn¡¯t really make sense. It shouldn¡¯t.


    But the encompassing warmth of Art¡¯s palm on mine did feel right. It felt right in a way I could never really put into words.


    He followed near me in contemplative silence. I wondered, distantly, if he felt the same about the electric touch of his skin on mine. Did it feel right to Arthur?


    Did it feel right to Grey?


    We arrived at our destination far too soon. Arthur stared at the doors with an expression close to resignation and sorrow, as he no doubt had guessed where I was taking him. But I didn¡¯t let it hamper me.


    I strode forward, raising one hand as I pushed open the doors to the private suite.


    The scent of cleaning chemicals and the slight churning of the ambient mana alerted me to the medical equipment in the room and the painstaking measures that had been taken to ensure the health of the patient. The room was lavish¨Cfar more lavish than the occupant would have liked, but it didn¡¯t really matter now.


    Grandpa¡¯s comatose body lay in the center of a large bed, half a dozen different mana artifacts and medical devices hooked up to him. His skin was sunken and pale, and his long, white hair seemed to have been drained of more color. It shouldn¡¯t have been possible, but the man I¡¯d always relied on to pick me up when I fell down looked even older than the mountains themselves.


    His veins were dark, marking the corruption barely held at bay. The emitters had managed a sort of equilibrium, stopping the corruption from truly penetrating too deep and hurting him further, but his shallow breaths told me he wouldn¡¯t wake up any time soon.


    I¡¯d been here often in the past week. Like clockwork, I¡¯d laid myself limply into one of the seats, staring at Grandpa¡¯s body. Hoping against all hope that he¡¯d just open his eyes. Ruffle my hair and call me little one again. We¡¯d laugh this entire thing off, this brush with death, and then he¡¯d go back to doing what he always did. Giving me hope. Giving this continent hope.


    But he had never opened his eyes. Even as the emitters on duty had told me Arthur had ordered for corrupted beasts to be captured, dissected, and studied for some way to reverse-engineer the toxin¡ªand hopefully heal the infected¡ªI knew that any results from our mages would take weeks to come back. Maybe months.


    Arthur¡¯s face wrinkled in visible pain as he looked at Virion¡¯s body, and then he turned away, unable to bear the sight. His hand clenched mine for the first time as he failed to look our Grandpa in the eye.


    ¡°I always looked up to him, Art,¡± I said, releasing our hands as I moved over to Grandpa¡¯s bedside. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling as it swallowed me whole. I stared at the sunken eyelids of the former king of Elenoir, remembering how the eyes beneath had always sparkled with mischief and love whenever he spoke with me. ¡°He was perfect, you know? I didn¡¯t think he could do anything wrong. Not really.¡±


    Maybe that was why I always pushed so, so hard for his approval. For him to accept and treat me as if I were worthy of the love he gave me. Because he was so perfect. Because Art was so perfect. And I was so not. I was so flawed and broken, while everyone around me radiated everything a person could be.


    I felt tears fighting at the edges of my vision, but I didn¡¯t cry. Now wasn¡¯t the time for weeping.


    ¡°But Grandpa made mistakes,¡± I said somberly. Arthur made mistakes. ¡°In this war. With me. With you.¡±


    How ironic was it that it took a war to show me that those I idolized weren¡¯t perfect? That there were cracks beneath the surface?


    I turned, looking at Arthur. ¡°And you¡¯ve made mistakes, too,¡± I said softly. ¡°Without Sylvie¡­ without your family¡­¡±


    Without them¡ªwithout me¡ªArthur would fail. He wasn¡¯t some immortal god-king, blessed by the asura and sent as a hero to rescue us all from damnation. He was a person. A person like Virion. A person like me.


    ¡°You need me, Arthur,¡± I said, echoing the resolution that had been building inside of me for so long. That had been whirring and growing since my failure to fight Spellsong, since my internment in Zestier. Since I had chosen to do my duty as a soldier before that of my personal attachments.


    I stood slowly, moving to stand so I was less than a foot away from Art. The man¡ªwho had looked so kingly and regal and above earlier¡ªnow felt like flesh and bone as I rested my arms on his shoulders, looking up into his uncertain eyes.


    I¡¯d thought about this. I¡¯d gone over everything we knew of what Toren Daen had told us. Over how I was a weakness in Dicathen¡¯s line, a target to be taken at any point. I was Agrona¡¯s end goal¡ªbut there was a way to solve those issues. To face them and conquer them.


    ¡°Make me your Lance, Arthur,¡± I demanded, finally echoing what was needed. ¡°That is what this continent needs. What we need.¡±


    At my words, Arthur shuddered slightly, taking a step back. I watched him as he processed my demand, seeing how his jaw worked and his mind whirled.


    I knew he was smart. He had to see what I did, how it was the best way.


    The other monarchs had all transferred control of their artifacts to Arthur, before he had used the scepter to bind them further to him and release the shackles on their potential. But he also had a power: the power to cinch shut their binding oaths and deprive them of life on a moment¡¯s whim, should they become traitorous.


    Should they be captured by the enemy.


    The atmosphere in the room grew tense as Arthur began to pace back and forth. I stood still, watching him with a serene gaze.


    ¡°No,¡± he said at last, clenching his fists as he looked away from me. ¡°No. No, I won¡¯t do it. I won¡¯t do this.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± I asked, though I thought I knew the answer. ¡°It¡¯s what makes the most logical sense. I am a risk to this entire continent. By binding us together¨C¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly the problem!¡± Arthur exploded, raising his voice as he whirled on me. ¡°You will be bound to me! Are you just ignoring that?¡±


    I remembered the last time Arthur had erupted in fury at me like this. Way back when Master Goodsky had died in this very castle, I¡¯d been taken by the childish desire to run out and avenge her somehow. But Arthur had exploded. He¡¯d berated me for wanting to act for myself rather than for Goodsky. It was all an attempt to soothe my ego.


    Arthur never raised his voice with me. Never, except when he saw something that terrified him. And this time, Grandpa wasn¡¯t awake to separate us.


    ¡°No, I am not,¡± I dismissed, utterly calm and unfazed. ¡°I¡¯m willing to give my life for my continent. I¡¯m willing to be a soldier beyond my childish desire to be a part of this war. I know every inch of what it means. And I know it¡¯s the most logical thing to do. It is the best way to make use of my strength while curtailing Agrona¡¯s ambitions.¡±


    I strode forward, brushing aside my childhood friend¡¯s intent as his azure eyes trembled with fear.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t rejecting this because it¡¯s foolish. You¡¯re terrified of how much sense it makes. Because Grey would do it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem, Tess,¡± Art countered. ¡°Grey is a monster. He¡¯d take you and lock you away. Or kill you. And what I want to do¡­¡±


    The man I¡¯d known all my life turned away in shame, his expression breaking. Because he wanted to accept this, too. Because if I was bound to him, then he could hide me wherever he wanted, keeping me safe like some sort of glass sculpture to be protected.


    It was so strange. I¡¯d been so terrified, deep inside, that everything I¡¯d known of Arthur was some sort of elaborate lie. But when I confronted him, he couldn¡¯t help but be the sweet idiot I¡¯d grown to love. His shoulders narrowed, no longer broad and powerful as he looked away from me in shame.


    I sighed into the silence, realizing that if I pushed any further, it would be Arthur who would break. He was so fragile.


    Break break break, Willow echoed. Fragile fragile fragile.


    I slowly strode around Arthur, staring up at him from where he slumped. His hair shadowed his face and eyes from me in a curtain of auburn.


    ¡°You took the mantle of King because there was no other choice,¡± I said, my expression softening. Gently, I wrapped the man I¡¯d known all my life in a simple embrace. ¡°In a better world, we wouldn¡¯t have to make these decisions. Maybe you could¡¯ve remained a Lance. Grandpa would still be awake. We could fight this war on our terms.¡±


    I squeezed my fingers along Arthur¡¯s broad back, resisting the urge to bury my face in his chest. ¡°But we don¡¯t always get what we want. If I became your Lance and you decided to just hide me away, I couldn¡¯t stop you. I suppose I couldn¡¯t begrudge you either, considering how pushy I¡¯m being. If you say no, I can relegate myself to Zestier, directing troops and filing away notes. I can find some way to be what I need to be in this great cog of war. But we both know why I ask this.¡±


    Arthur returned the hug hesitantly, his arms loose and weak. ¡°I can¡¯t be trusted with that sort of power, Tess,¡± he said weakly. ¡°Already, I¡¯ve moved my parents away from the warfront to keep them safe. And the last time I was in power, I was a monster.¡±


    I raised a hand, pushing Arthur¡¯s auburn hair from his eyes so I could see those lakes of pure crystal blue again. ¡°Then that just means you need to become something other than what you were. What you are.¡±


    I¡¯d seen it in that throne room, and I saw it here with Grandpa. Arthur tried to keep those parts of himself separate, shying away from Grey and hunkering like a man before a hurricane. But it was tearing him apart, and it had not even been a week.


    ¡°Neither Grey nor Arthur can be the King Dicathen needs, just like the Tessia I was couldn¡¯t be a true soldier for this continent,¡± I said quietly. ¡°We need to grow. We need to be something new. Something united. Even if it has the potential for us to hurt.¡±


    I stared up at my childhood friend, sensing as his emotions warred within for supremacy. In this moment, despite the height of Arthur¡¯s stature and the enormity of the shadow he¡¯d always cast, he was just as human as anyone else.


    Then he finally separated his arms from me, pushing away and holding my shoulders. ¡°Just¡­¡± he swallowed, his eyes refusing to meet mine. ¡°Just wait for me. I need to think. Please.¡±


    I smiled slightly. It was a sad, acknowledging thing. ¡°I promised to wait for you years ago, Art,¡± I said softly. ¡°I¡¯ll wait.¡±

 Chapter 252: A Promise

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    I trundled from the sickroom, leaving Tessia behind as the door closed. Her final words rang in my head like thorn-filled vines.


    I¡¯ll wait.


    Questions and worries about what to do next swirled in my head like those effervescent visions I¡¯d been having of my past life. All the while, Grey watched me from the sidelines.


    I groaned, pressing my face into my hands as I fought to keep a lid on my rising fears and uncertainties.


    ¡°Arthur,¡± Sylvie thought to me, concerned and uncertain as I failed to keep my dread to myself. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Are you okay?¡±


    I stood still in the hallway, the darting particles of ambient mana around me bathing me in their subtle hues. No, Sylv, I replied mournfully, still weighing the veracity of Tess¡¯ subtle demands. No, I¡¯m not.


    My bond couldn¡¯t come to me now. She was busy keeping Taci occupied, and if she returned, so too would the pantheon. So instead of explaining it all, I let my memories of the past few minutes trickle by over our bond.


    She listened. She always listened. I could feel her happiness as she sensed how I¡¯d opened up to Tess, grateful that I¡¯d taken that terrifying step. She felt my uncertainty as Tess led me towards Virion¡¯s medical wing, then deeper worries as Tess continued to speak. Continued to make sense.


    And when she saw Tess¡¯ ultimate demand¡ªher ultimate proposition for what would see us through this war and curtail Agrona¡¯s plans¡ªher mind slammed to a halt, too.


    It¡¯s foolish, I argued, staring upward. I could sense Tess back in the room, sitting back near Virion. She didn¡¯t appear nearly as rattled and unsettled by our talk as I was. Or not in the same way. It¡¯s just another attempt of hers to try and put herself in danger. Just like it was with Goodsky. She¡¯s just trying to do the same thing she¡¯s always done.


    Sylvie didn¡¯t respond for a moment. But when she did, her words washed away the anger I¡¯d been wearing like a shield.


    ¡°We both know that¡¯s not why she¡¯s done this,¡± Sylv thought back. ¡°If it was just another attempt to make herself useful or a desire to prove herself, you wouldn¡¯t have such internal turmoil.¡±


    That¡¯s not true, I thought stubbornly. It¡¯s¡­


    ¡°I can read your thoughts, Arthur,¡± Sylvie said back somberly. ¡°Tessia isn¡¯t the same as when we last saw her. She¡¯s willing to sacrifice herself for the good of this continent, whether that be in war or being locked away. It¡¯s just that being a Lance¡­¡±


    My bond¡¯s words trailed off, but she didn¡¯t need to finish that sentence. Because being a Lance is the best way for Tess to serve this continent.


    She¡¯d read my memories. The moment my childhood friend had offered herself to be my Lance, I could feel Grey¡¯s teeth sink deeply into the idea.


    If Tessia were to become my Lance, it would essentially ensure the loyalty of all of Elenoir. Already, Alduin was willing to bend the knee to my rule, but not out of loyalty. It was out of exhaustion and desperation, and he could be swayed by the other elves. If Tessia were to become my Lance, I would functionally bind the elven kingdom to me¡ªand set a precedent for their subservience to my commands. After all, their princess would obey me. Power would be further centralized around my authoritarian regime.


    And Tessia was powerful. At the mid-silver stage, she was one of the most powerful non-Lance mages Dicathen had, if not the most powerful. To keep her locked away in the castle or Zestier effectively wasted a powerful asset. And if she were to become a Lance in the white core, I could imagine her eclipsing even Varay in strength in due time. She would become a powerful military force, able to be sent anywhere across the continent.


    That was especially important, considering with my rise to power, I stood in a position that didn¡¯t allow me to take the same risks and make the same actions as a Lance. While Dicathen had gained a King, there was a power vacuum left with the elves. Tess could more than fill that void.


    And if Agrona ever captured her and tried to make her into the Legacy? Well, a simple snap would see an asset broken.


    Those were the logical reasons. The dictator¡¯s reasons who only saw control and power. Those all called to me, from every side of the Greyscale shade of my past.


    But it wasn¡¯t just Grey who wanted to accept her offer. I did, too.


    Because if Tess was a white core mage, she could protect herself. She¡¯d be powerful enough to fight anything that might try and harm her, be they Retainer or Scythe. She¡¯d be safe.


    And I could send her away, too. I could order her to shelter herself in some far-distant reach of the Beast Glades, outside and away from civilization. It was just as valid an order as sending her into combat against the Alacryans. Just like Virion had done, I could rationalize it away. Agrona wouldn¡¯t be able to get his Legacy. Cecilia wouldn¡¯t be brought back by a megalomaniacal god.


    ¡°But we both know that wouldn¡¯t work,¡± Sylvie said softly. ¡°That¡¯s part of why you took up your position as Commander. Because we both know that no matter where she goes on this continent, she won¡¯t be outside Agrona¡¯s reach. The attack in Zestier proved that.¡±


    I snarled, resisting the urge to slam a punch into the wall and destroy it. I stalked away from the medical wing, feeling the need to move.


    And the ultimate reason I didn¡¯t want to take this offer¡­ The ultimate reason was because I was afraid of what I¡¯d do with that power. I¡¯d already moved Mom and Dad to Xyrus with covert excuses, and they didn¡¯t even know I¡¯d done so.


    The relationships between Tessia and I had always felt¡­ Unbalanced, in some ways. I was a man with memories of another life, while she¡¯d been a girl enjoying her youth. I could never give her what she wanted, because it would have been wrong. I outweighed her in martial experience. In leadership experience. In real-world experience. So many things were unbalanced.


    But if I were to be her King and she my Lance, could we ever have a relationship of any kind? Could I even still call her friend? If I took this option, was it the first step to me becoming Grey again?


    I¡¯ve already taken the first step, I thought darkly. I bear a crown on my head.


    What do I do, Sylv? I asked, wanting to melt into a puddle. I could imagine my skin and muscles seeping from my bones like wax, my bones crumbling to ash as everything that kept me together washed away.


    My bond was silent for a long, long time. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Arthur,¡±


    she finally admitted. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­ I¡¯ll think. I promise. But I¡¯ll stand by any decision you make, I swear it.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling Grey¡¯s empty eyes judging me. It contrasted so darkly with Sylvie¡¯s acceptance and love. I never thought I¡¯d felt the contrast as deeply as I did right then. The two pulls of my lives, present and future as they waited on my decision.


    My eyes drifted away from the phantom of King Grey as I continued to walk, my mind in turmoil.


    The glimmering motes of red fire mana clung to the torches all along the medical wing of the castle, hiding within the dancing orange. Yellow earth particles rolled like boulders across the floor, coalescing like landslides. Blue water mana drifted with the green wind energy as they danced lightly through the atmosphere.


    And beneath and behind and within and beyond it all, the purple motes of aether swirled.


    The mana had always seemed welcoming and helpful to me. It was always ready to answer my call and assist me in my endeavors. Even more so as I embraced my manaborne forms and embroiled myself in what it was to be each element, I could pinpoint what each element would say about my current predicament.


    Fire would tell me to burn away all my enemies, to never sit still and let them approach. I should use them all as fuel in the inferno of my glory. Earth would tell me to subsume my thoughts and bury them in the graveyard of action. Water would say the same, too. Drown them all. Don¡¯t allow them to breathe. Wind would want me to fly away and ignore it, leaving all this needless stress for the carefree sensation of freedom.


    None of those were the answers that would see me through.


    But as I walked, each of my footfalls threatening to crater the ground from the weight on my shoulders, all watched with the same eyes I¡¯d experienced in my past life. Guards stepped aside and bowed as I flowed past them, keeping my chin held high and my gaze perfect. Members of nobility whispered in quiet awe, fear, and anger as I moved, whispering about all I¡¯d done in the past week.


    The world fell away into a vague sense as I walked aimlessly, no particular destination in mind. Walking helped me think. It helped me plan.


    The castle changed around me as I strode endlessly, Sylvie¡¯s warm presence like a balm in my thoughts as I processed everything. I slowly found my calm as I continued to walk.


    I looked up, blinking in surprise as I finally left the confines of my own pulsing head. Somehow, I¡¯d arrived in the castle¡¯s private quarters for the upper nobility and echelons of the council.


    I walked a long way, I thought absently, staring about. How long have I been moving?


    The centerroom of the castle¡¯s council quarters was a nice, simple suite, filled with luxury amenities. Gold lined the windows as they opened out into the distant skies, clouds drifting past in lazy waves. The natural light made the fire mana coalesce like a cat beneath the sun, drawing my gaze away from the ornate furniture.


    But as I stood in the central meeting room of the councilor¡¯s chambers, I felt the attention of someone else. Someone familiar, that I¡¯d missed in my fugue.


    I turned my head, furrowing my brow as I honed in on the familiar person as they lounged bonelessly in a chaise lounge.


    If the Blaine Glayder I¡¯d first met as a child were a perfectly crafted letter to his people, with all the flowing prose and elegant penmanship of a regal diplomat, then what lounged on the couch before me was what happened after the pages had been torn apart, pieced back together with tape, then crumpled into a ball and thrown against the wall.


    His normally fiery hair looked sullen and small. Where the maroon locks used to flare about his head like a mane, now they clung to his head like jealous moss held to rocks on the seashore. His eyes¡ªeach the same, dull shade as his hair¡ªwere slightly hazy as they tried to center on me.


    ¡°Are you here to gloat?¡± he asked, his voice slightly slurred. ¡°You¡¯ve got the kingship now, Leywin. You¡¯re the most powerful man in Dicathen.¡±


    My eyes darted to the bottle clenched lightly in the former monarch¡¯s hands. He was drunk. Very drunk.


    I carefully schooled my features as I looked at the decrepit remnants of Sapin¡¯s king. ¡°You say things you don¡¯t mean, Councilman. We both know the circumstances of my ascension,¡± I said in a neutral tone. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to your¡­ indulgences.¡±


    I turned around, already wanting to leave this room. The image of a king, stricken and torn because of the events of their reign, hit too close to home.


    ¡°I know,¡± Blaine slurred. ¡°It¡¯s just easier when I can blame someone. It makes ruling so much easier. But we both know that¡¯s¡­ not the right way.¡±


    I paused, then turned back to the former king, inspecting him with narrowed eyes. I wanted to march away. I should have marched away. But my feet stayed rooted to the spot as if by a shell of earth made by a conjurer. Thoughts of Tessia and all my failures halted in my mind as I stared at this strange reflection of what all rulers were destined to be.


    ¡°There is no right way to rule,¡± I responded carefully. ¡°Only different levels of wrong.¡±


    Blaine barked a cynical, drunken laugh, before lifting the bottle back to his lips. He took a few greedy gulps of whatever was inside. ¡°That crown is already heavy on your head,¡± he wheezed, resting his head on the back of the couch. ¡°I used to be everything. Everything. Now I¡¯m¡­ nothing. And you are everything I ever wanted to be.¡±


    I blinked, startled by the man¡¯s words. How much had he drunk? ¡°You should not be drinking¨C¡±


    ¡°I saw it there in you, way back in that Indrath-forsaken auction hall,¡± Blaine grunted, cutting off my words. I wasn¡¯t certain he was even talking to me, with how unfocused his gaze was. He only saw a phantom, just as I did Grey. ¡°I saw a king.¡±


    My words cut off as I recalled the first time I had ever met the king of Sapin. It had not been a positive experience. The former court mage, Sebastian, had tried to scheme his way into acquiring my bond. He¡¯d wanted Sylvie for himself, even going as far as to call in a favor from Blaine to demand it.


    ¡°I saw it there, when you defied me,¡± he whispered, his eyes widening with a glassy, distant look as he stared at the ceiling. ¡°I always loved the power. I shouldn¡¯t have, but I did. I loved it and I hated it all. It was everything. But you said¡­ no. You defied me. You drew from something I couldn¡¯t understand, boy. When someone did something wrong, you stood your ground.¡±


    My eyes flicked to that bottle. He loved it and he hated it, I thought, understanding. Just like a broken man loves and hates the drink.


    From the slack expression on the former monarch¡¯s expression and the distance in his eyes, I could almost imagine he was back in that scene from nearly a decade ago, watching it all play out. His hands clenched on the throat of the bottle in his hands.


    ¡°You did it again, too. I never thought¡­ Never thought I saw a king until you stood under General Aldir¡¯s stare. I¡¯d never seen someone so perfect,¡± the maroon-haired man said, speaking to himself as much as a ghost. ¡°And it seems you always were a king. Always, in some other life.¡±


    I exhaled a deep, world-weary breath, feeling a strange sense of pity as I looked at the broken man before me. I hadn¡¯t explained anything of my reincarnation or past life to the council, even though I knew questions and theories and fears abounded through them all.


    ¡°I was never a good king, Blaine,¡± I said quietly, hoping in some way to soothe what ailed him. ¡°In another life far away from here, I was little less than a machine of war. What you think to be so amazing wasn¡¯t something innate to me. It was built on failure. My magic was worthless, and my life was empty. It¡¯s only been the lessons I learned there that made me who I am today.¡±


    Blaine¡¯s eyes became even more unfocused. ¡°Another life¡­ Another chance¡­¡± The aging man raised an absent hand, pressing the clawed fingers of his hands over his core. I thought I saw tears gather at the edges of his eyes. ¡°If I had another life, maybe I could stop all this death from happening to my people. I wouldn¡¯t be a useless red core. I could be someone great. A king.¡±


    The clouds drifted past the window, casting the room in sudden shadow as the sunlight was stolen from the room. In the lack of light, the phantom of Grey seemed more real than ever in my peripheral vision.


    I had never liked this man. He¡¯d been selfish, vain, and a threat to those I¡¯d cared for even before the asura had intervened to put down the Greysunders.


    But right now, I thought I saw two phantoms of Grey in front of me. The King, who had become an apathetic machine, watched from the sidelines. But on the couch lounged the broken boy whose ki center had never been up to par and thought himself doomed to unending failure. The boy who wished he could do it all over.


    It took me some time to find my words, stuck as they were in the back of my throat.


    ¡°You were a better king than I ever was, Lord Glayder,¡± I said with pained respect. ¡°We¡¯ve had our differences, but I see how you care. I know what you did to pull your country from the depths of unending war. I only ever did the opposite.¡±


    It was common knowledge that Blaine Glayder had slain his tyrannical father to stop the bloodshed of the human-elven war. He¡¯d stepped up and taken that burden upon himself, driving his blade personally through his father¡¯s stomach for the greater good.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    I looked down at my hands, my mind flickering back to long buried memories. I remembered Cecilia¡¯s blood on my hands as her body slid macabrely down my sword.


    Blaine had started his kingship by killing someone he loved for the greater good, taking all that weight onto his shoulders. I had begun mine by slaying one of my closest friends for nothing more than selfish needs.


    And in the end, neither of us had found peace in our rules. The end result of Sapin¡¯s glorious, revered king lay in a drunken stupor before me.


    ¡°But if you ever got another chance, Blaine, I think you could do better,¡± I said. I hoped. ¡°That¡¯s what makes second chances so important.¡±


    The former king lolled his head, staring at me with hooded eyes. For the first time, his attention seemed to fully focus on me. I seemed real to him again.


    And then the tension shattered with a worried shout. ¡°Blaine,¡± Priscilla Glayder said quickly, emerging from one of the rooms that I recognized belonged to the former royal couple, ¡°Damn it, Blaine.¡±


    The woman who had once been the queen of Sapin looked slightly disheveled with her black hair in disarray. Her dress was clearly that of a woman who had barely put herself together. I suspected she¡¯d been sleeping up until just a few seconds ago.


    She didn¡¯t even notice me as she moved to her husband, her face taut in an expression of worry and anger both. The black-haired woman looked Blaine over, noting his dreariness and broken demeanor. ¡°Blaine,¡± she said, her voice sinking with wear and sorrow. ¡°You promised you wouldn¡¯t do this anymore.¡±


    Blaine didn¡¯t really seem to hear her, just clenched his bottle tighter. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have,¡± he said. ¡°I betrayed your trust.¡±


    The former queen¡¯s pale face flushed with pained anger as she took her husband by the shoulders. ¡°You beat it so long ago,¡± she said harshly, her voice cool despite her clear emotion. ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t give into the bottle again. We made a promise. You and me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a¨C¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t hear a single excuse from you, Blaine,¡± she snapped, cutting him off before he could say a word. ¡°We¡¯ve spoken about this. To no end. You promised me. You promised our children.¡±


    The former queen shook her head, fighting to keep her expression under control. I could see it all there, in this moment of rare vulnerability. She loved the man lying on the couch. Loved him with all of her heart. She was angry not just because he¡¯d broken her trust, but because seeing him like this wounded her. She¡¯d worked to help him from falling back into his old ways. She¡¯d worked to build him up and be better.


    And when he fell again, she was here, scolding him as she prepared to pull him back up.


    I¡¯d only ever seen Priscilla the councilwoman. Now, I caught a hint of Priscilla the wife.


    And it was only then that she caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of her eyes.


    The councilwoman straightened suddenly, her eyes widening in sudden fear. Priscilla put herself in front of her husband, bowing lightly. ¡°King Leywin,¡± she said quickly, calculations running behind her eyes. ¡°I apologize for my husband¡¯s unsightly appearance. It is unbefitting of a councilor of Dicathen to present themselves as such to their Commander.¡±


    I forced a light smile onto my face as Priscilla stood like an icy sentinel between me and her husband. She¡¯d been the cold front to Blaine¡¯s hot whenever they worked together in the councilroom. She was the voice of reason and conservative action, tempering the human king¡¯s more impulsive anger.


    ¡°I took no offense,¡± I said honestly, waving away the woman¡¯s concerns. I could see the worried questions behind her eyes, too. ¡°Everything that happened here won¡¯t leave my mouth. Any others learning of your husband¡¯s¡­ stupor would only be detrimental to the unity of this continent.¡±


    Priscilla had watched me with a measure of fear throughout this week as I near-ritualistically purged the nobility of their unearned and unjustified stations all throughout the Triunion Council¡¯s echelons. She was the only person who could truly comprehend the absurdity of my actions, truly recognize how horrifying my efficiency was.


    She saw me as King Grey. And King Grey would hold this incident as political leverage over Blaine if he could.


    The weight on Blaine¡¯s shoulders isn¡¯t on his alone, I realized, noting how Priscilla stood nervously between us. I slowly recalled all the times they¡¯d subtly worked together, balancing out each other¡¯s flaws and exemplifying their virtues to the best of their abilities.


    It wasn¡¯t perfect. It never could be. But they tried.


    And then the clouds parted, and the sun streamed back into the room through that distant window. I felt, for the first time, like a breath of fresh air had entered my lungs.


    ¡°Ensure Councilman Blaine doesn¡¯t trip over his own shoes,¡± I said, turning around. ¡°I have a duty to attend to.¡±


    I began to walk, doubt already worrying in my mind about what I was about to do. The image of it felt clear in my mind, but I risked it falling like streams of water through cupped hands.


    ¡°Wait.¡±


    I halted in my steps as Blaine¡¯s slurred voice reached me. I frowned, turning to face the former king of humans again.


    Priscilla had been gently working to pull him to his feet, using her shoulder and augmented, slim frame to support his heroic figure. He still looked at me with addled intensity, though.


    The man tossed the bottle in his hand towards me. I caught it easily, baffled.


    ¡°You¡¯re gonna¡­ need that,¡± he slurred, seeming surprised that the glass hadn¡¯t hit the ground. I wondered if his addled mind was debating if I was some drunken apparition and the bottle actually had shattered, or if I was really there.


    That only earned more angry words from Priscilla, who hastened her slightly-fearful movement of her husband as she hauled him away. I stared in amusement as the woman apologized profusely to me, before trying to get away as quickly as possible, tired brute of a king in tow.


    I looked back at the bottle in my hands, for once feeling like I could use a dash of liquid courage in my coming plan. I stared into the bottle, then turned it upside down.


    A single drop of whiskey slipped from the rim, then hit the floor.


    I sighed, my shoulders heaving. ¡°Fuck you, Blaine,¡± I muttered, looking at the empty glass mournfully. ¡°You¡¯re still an asshole.¡±


    ¡ª


    I found Tessia in one of the castle¡¯s training rooms, working to nurture her powers.


    I knew from reports that Tess had been training with Aya to master some sort of new aspect to her Elderwood Guardian Will. According to the elven Lance, Tess had the ability to not just create true Elshire mist, unlike the thin fa?ade that Phantasm leveraged, but control preexisting mist as well.


    But watching it was an entirely unique process. A few vines with silver thorns rose from several points on the dirt training grounds. Silver roses bloomed all along their length, the centers breathing mist that danced and reflected the light. At the center of it all, Tess stood like some sort of ephemeral fae.


    Her back was to me as she held out her pale arms, each of them covered in bright green runes. Her breathing was slow and even as the mist rose and fell around her in tune with her chest. Her hair¡ªlight and verdant under the effects of her Will instead of its usual gunmetal silver¡ªflowed within the light-splitting stream of mist.


    I narrowed my eyes contemplatively as I focused on the elven princess, noting the flow of the water and wind mana around her. The mist made it hard to even sense those particles, as dense as it was. Even with my understanding of water mana and my senses as a white core mage, it was hard for me to truly pierce that veil and see the woman beneath. The way the water vapor enshrouded her made me think of the old stories of my previous life of mystical creatures and ethereal, tempting things hidden in the shadows.


    ¡°Are you just going to keep staring, or are you going to say something?¡±


    I blinked in surprise at Tess¡¯ words, noting the twitch of her long ears. I shook my head, snapping myself from my daze. ¡°I can¡¯t see the mana particles around you where the mist is the most condensed,¡± I said honestly, unable to restrain the wonder in my voice. I felt the urge to embrace waterborne and see what else I could learn about the magic that enveloped my childhood friend. ¡°I¡¯m wondering how it works.¡±


    The mist slowly drifted away, lowering to the ground and dissipating as the elven princess let go of her beast will. Her hair shifted back to its natural shade as she let out a breath that sounded like it had been caught in her lungs for an age.


    She turned around, looking at me with an expression of utmost disappointment. ¡°That¡¯s your first thought on seeing my great new powers? Just, ¡®Wow, my stupid super-senses are blind now?¡¯ Not, ¡®My childhood friend has become beautiful and pretty now, and I¡¯m still an idiot?¡¯ ¡±


    I frowned, feeling just a little bit wrongfooted. ¡°I mean, you being beautiful isn¡¯t the reason I¡¯m here.¡±


    Tess sighed, rolling her eyes as she strode down from the platform. It had only been a few hours since we¡¯d last seen each other, but the weight of our last conversation seemed distant in this moment as she looked at me with narrow, scrutinizing teal irises. ¡°So you¡¯re not here because you admittedly find me beautiful,¡± she said slowly. Her brow slowly rose. ¡°So, that crosses off so many reasons you¡¯ve decided to spy on a princess¡¯ training. You¡¯ll need to enlighten me, Art.¡±


    I scratched the back of my neck nervously, feeling thankful that I couldn¡¯t see Grey¡¯s phantom when Tess was in front of me. I¡¯d gone over my plan with Sylvie, and she¡¯d approved¡ªbut she¡¯d left me to my own thoughts afterward, telling me it was something I needed to do alone.


    I opened my mouth to say something witty, thought better of it considering Tess¡¯ inquisitive, no-nonsense stare, then closed it again.


    I let out a pained groan instead, burying my face in my hand as I felt my mind working at about one mile an hour.


    ¡°You are really bad at this,¡± Tess said, stating the obvious as she observed me with crossed arms. ¡°Really, really bad at this.¡±


    Thanks, Tess, I thought with annoyance. I never would have guessed that!


    ¡°Would you like to go for a walk?¡± I asked, forcing the words from my throat.


    ¡°A walk?¡± Tess replied skeptically, turning to observe the training room around us. ¡°Art, I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m inside a flying castle. Where should I walk to?¡±


    I gave the elven princess as deadpan a stare as I could manage, feeling emotionally drained already. That, at last, earned a chuckle from the demure elven mage.


    ¡°Very well, King Leywin,¡± she said, walking forward. She extended her arm in the courtly gesture common in Elenoir, tilting her head up lightly as her eyes flashed teasingly. ¡°Lead me wherever you please. But mind you, I am a princess.¡±


    I laughed lightly, accepting the gesture as I linked my arm with hers. Her bare skin was warm, even through the fabric of my shirt. ¡°You¡¯ve never let me forget,¡± I said, feeling the tension drift away like Elshire mist across the trees of Zestier, just like it used to long ago in the distant past. ¡°I hope this foreign king can successfully woo the cold and aloof elven princess.¡±


    Tess¡¯ silver brows furrowed in annoyance as we began to walk towards the exit of the training grounds, arm in arm. ¡°Cold and aloof?¡± she said, sounding genuinely annoyed. I winced as she pinched my arm particularly hard. ¡°Cold and aloof? Me?¡±


    I forced a smile to stay on my face, unwilling to give my childhood friend ammunition to use against me despite the pain radiating through my acclorite-infused arm.


    Is she using mana for that? I thought, genuinely surprised. Does she want me to tap out or something?


    We reached the hallways soon enough as I continued on my forward trek. ¡°I think you¡¯ve made your point,¡± I said through gritted teeth. ¡°How about fiery, impulsive, and rampaging instead?¡±


    Tess scoffed, and I could sense that she wanted to sock me with a fist. But that would mean she¡¯d have to unlink our arms to do so, so she didn¡¯t. Instead, she opted to sigh dramatically. ¡°Only when the foreign king goes and does something foolish,¡± she said, her ears drooping slightly. Her hand squeezed where it held mine. ¡°Princess and king share that in common, don¡¯t they?¡±


    I felt the blood rise in my cheeks at Tess¡¯ words, seeing exactly what she meant. ¡°Maybe,¡± I replied quietly. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    As we continued to walk through the castle toward that predestined goal, I felt my good mood shift slightly. As I saw more and more guards and more and more nobles, the smile on my face threatened to fall as the needs of Grey reasserted themselves.


    Be strong. Be unassailable. Show no weaknesses. Show no emotion.


    Tess sensed the shift in my demeanor. As I felt the struggle not to fall fully into the trap of my crown, her hand tightened on mine.


    She moved ever-so-slightly closer to me as we passed a few guards, watching them salute to me. ¡°You look good with a smile, Art,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I like your smile.¡±


    My smile had been falling, but at her words, it found a sort of equilibrium. Instead of the grin I¡¯d worn when I¡¯d teased the princess earlier, now it was something soft and measured.


    But it didn¡¯t go away.


    We reached the council rooms before long. The very same council rooms I¡¯d been in earlier today. I stared up at the doors, feeling how vast they were deep in my soul.


    Tess waited at my side, seeming to understand what it was I felt looking up at those daunting windows to possibility. Part of me wondered if she¡¯d wait for an eternity for my foolish, uncertain self.


    I exhaled a weary sigh, the crown on my head heavy as ever. And then I stepped forward, pushing open the doors.


    I unlinked my arm with Tess¡¯ as we entered the council room. I strode forward into the vast expanse, memories of all my meetings here flickering inside my head. So many life-changing events had happened here in so short a time.


    Agrona had taunted me from a high chair, staring down at me as he puppeteered my bond. The council had broken under the weight of Virion¡¯s coma. And in the same stroke, it had been reforged.


    My eyes lingered on the multi-elemental throne I¡¯d conjured for myself, tracing the flow of the mana within.


    ¡°When I was a King in my previous life, I made many, many mistakes,¡± I said. I felt hyper-aware of everything in this room. Each flow of mana, each twist of all four elements. The low light of evening streamed through the distant windows, anointing me with subtle warmth. ¡°So many mistakes that I could not name them all.¡±


    Tess didn¡¯t say anything while she waited behind me, silent as I spoke my thoughts.


    ¡°But the biggest one¡­ the biggest one was that in everything, I was alone. In my duels, I was alone. In my life, I was alone. In my goals, I was alone. In bearing the weight of the crown on my head, I was alone.¡±


    I turned back around, staring at the princess before me. All her life, she¡¯d been raised with the expectation that she¡¯d eventually take up her father¡¯s mantle as the ruler of Elenoir Kingdom. At every single step of the way, she¡¯d been granted a noble education that taught her what was necessary to lead.


    I flexed my hand, drawing a single item from my dimension ring. A black coin the size of my palm settled into my hands.


    The Lance artifact. Tess¡¯ eyes flicked to it, then back to me.


    ¡°I can make you a Lance, Tess. This artifact can give you the power to ascend to the white core and be a true force for this continent.¡± I swallowed slightly, feeling the words wrench themselves from my throat. ¡°But I can¡¯t let myself go astray either. So I need you to promise me something, in exchange for this.¡±


    Tessia strode forward slowly, her steps soft in the low light. Her expression was serious, serene, and understanding all at once as she moved to stand barely a foot away from me.


    ¡°What do you need from me, Art?¡± she asked, her tone cool and Lancelike.


    ¡°You can¡¯t let me go astray,¡± I said. ¡°When I¡¯m acting as king, I need you to be there to ensure I stay in check. You were right, earlier. You said that Grey can¡¯t be king. And I need you to ensure he isn¡¯t.¡±


    Tess¡¯ deep, teal eyes searched mine as I laid out my conditions. ¡°Do you think I can?¡±


    I felt a slight smile grow on my face¡ªthe kind I¡¯d always worn whenever Tess said something a little foolish when we were younger. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met someone as stubborn as you,¡± I said quietly. ¡°If there¡¯s anyone who can curb my worst impulses, it¡¯s you.¡±


    The princess took another step forward, and suddenly, I felt terribly aware of how close we were. I could smell the shampoo she¡¯d used in her last shower, and lingering dewdrops clung to her skin and clothes from her earlier conjuring of mist.


    ¡°To be clear,¡± Tess said slowly, ¡°You¡¯re asking that I stand by your side during all of this, no matter what? Whether you¡¯re feeling sick or well, you need my advice and counsel and help? Till¡¯ whatever tears us apart?¡±


    I blinked, furrowing my brows slightly at her strange wording. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I need,¡± I said quietly. Especially if I somehow became sick and this phantom of Grey at the edges of my vision expanded, I couldn¡¯t count on myself alone. I needed an anchor. ¡°It¡¯s too much for me to do all alone, and I¡¯m¡­ very flawed. And I don¡¯t think very many things can break the Lance tether and tear it apart, besides maybe Spellsong.¡±


    Tess¡¯ ears turned red all the way to their tips as they drooped, a blush turning her face red as she stared up at me. She sighed, a weary, disappointed kind of sound that came deep from her soul.


    ¡°You¡¯re truly an idiot, Art. I cannot believe I ever was hard on myself when you¡¯re so oblivious,¡± the elven princess said. The way her silver-gray hair brushed past her eyes made it very, very hard to think clearly. ¡°But I think I can do that for you. Curb your worst impulses, and all. Be there, until whatever tears us apart.¡±


    I coughed, scratching the back of my neck with one hand as I failed to maintain eye contact with the princess. Instead, I looked down at the black coin in my hands. ¡°It just needs a drop of my blood and yours. That¡¯s all it takes.¡±


    Tess moved a hand between us, conjuring a simple vine adorned in thorns between her fingers. She didn¡¯t even hesitate as she pressed the pad of one of her fingers to the thorn, before allowing that singularity of red to fall onto the coin.


    The coin absorbed it, the surface shimmering lightly.


    I moved my finger to that vine, struggling with hesitance. ¡°When this is all over, and we¡¯ve achieved everything we need to,¡± I said quietly, ¡°I want to find a way to break this tether. I don¡¯t want you to be bound to me in this way.¡°


    I slowly pressed the tip of my index against that point. I felt as it parted the barest surface of my flesh, drawing a single dot of red to the tip of my digit.


    The little dot hovered there, slowly growing as it drew every ounce of my attention. If I focused, I could almost see the purple mote of aether within. I could almost sense the lifeforce deep inside.


    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Tess said with a light chuckle. ¡°There are other ways to bind people together.¡±


    That drop of my blood fell like the tear of some god in slow motion. And when it hit the surface of the coin, I could sense the change immediately, just as I had when I¡¯d claimed control of all the other artifacts. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I let out a slight grunt as I felt the strange aetheric magic sink into my heart. I opened my mouth to say something as Tess¡¯ face twitched, wondering and hoping that it hadn¡¯t hurt her.


    She cut my words off as she rose up into her toes, pressing her mouth to mine. She kissed me softly, her eyes fluttering shut.


    ¡°Gods, Art,¡± she whispered, pulling her lips from mine as she went red all the way to her ears. ¡±Do you have any idea how hard it is to get you to stay still for a kiss? And how do you make a proposal not a proposal?¡±


    A proposal? What? I wasn¡¯t¨C


    I stood there, stunned more by the kiss than anything else. I felt as if I¡¯d been caught unawares by Static Void and frozen in time, something in the back of my head unable to compute what had just happened. ¡°Tess, I¨C¡±


    ¡°I think the magic¡¯s working,¡± the elven princess said, her breath quickly starting to come in short pants as her flush turned her face even more red. Her eyes started to contract slightly, the teal shrinking. In my hand, the black metal coin was starting to vibrate. She clung to my shoulders nervously as she trembled, her ears drooping. ¡°Do you think this is normal, or am I that nervous about wanting to kiss you?¡±


    Fuuuuuck.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said, feeling my mind shift as I scooped the elven mage up into a princess carry. Her legs had been starting to shake. I calculated the quickest route to the medical wing. The artifact was really starting to fight in my grip. ¡°Look, the change might not be pleasant. It¡¯s going to push you to the white core by force. We need to get you to a medical bay in case anything goes wrong!¡±


    Tess looped her arms around my neck, a wide grin spreading across her face as she stared up at me, her features entirely red. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to pass out in a second, Art.¡±


    Don¡¯t say that with that goofy grin on your face! I thought, mana pumping through my legs as I started to run. All my earlier worries about appearing dignified before the guards and nobles of the castle evaporated as potential side effects of the Lance artifact belatedly surged in my head.


    Tess pressed her head to the crook of my shoulder, exhaling a shuddering breath as sweat began to bead across every inch of her body as the Lance artifact began its work. ¡°You really are a dummy.¡±

 Chapter 253: The Justice of Beasts

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Chul Asclepius


    The dirt crunched beneath my feet as I marched forward, stalwart in my resolve. Around me, the children of men laughed and played with the frivolity of youth. I kept my eyes alert and focused, wary and ready for any kind of cowardly assault from our vicious enemies. Suncrusher rested leisurely on my shoulder, the glowing mace ready for any wayward strike.


    None showed their corrupted faces as we walked along the trail, hundreds of feet stomping and plodding on their way to promised salvation. Yet I would not let my guard down, for that would be tantamount to forsaking my sworn duty.


    When I had left the Hearth a few months back, I had not known what direction to take. The sky was so vast. It was impossibly great and large and expansive. I had barely seen the sky, trapped as I was within the confines of stone and nature that was the Hearth for all my life, but once I let my wings kiss the breeze, I wondered even more how my family could intern themselves for so long. How could they deny themselves the sweet taste of freedom?


    I frowned darkly. They fear the Vritra more than they love the skies, I thought with disdain. I was no coward. It was they.


    Beside me, one of the human children stumbled as a rock proved too great a challenge for their balance. They flailed their short arms, crying out in distress as they fell in slow motion to the ground.


    I would not allow it. With a quick shift of my feet and a deft scoop of my free arm, I interceded, denying gravity her prize. I caught the little human before they could taste the earth, ensuring that they remained safe.


    The little human looked up at me with big, brown eyes. I thought that was strange. Eyes should be orange or red. Or perhaps blue or purple. But these humans all had strange colors.


    I did not voice my concerns. Instead, I made sure to set the young human down, ensuring they had their feet beneath them.


    ¡°Do not let your steps falter, young one,¡± I said, my voice rumbling as I tried to keep it hushed. Mother always said that I needed to be quieter when speaking, lest I scare away my prey. This young boy was not the object of a hunt, yet he shivered and acted like those things I hunted so long ago with my Mother regardless. ¡°Ensure that your stance is steady and strong, and no rock shall rob you of your balance.¡±


    The little human shuddered slightly, his mother rushing over. I turned away as I saw her, unable to look. Too cowardly. Instead, I patted the young human on the head once. ¡°Try not to fall again, young man. We will not always have our mothers to pick us up.¡±


    The boy nodded in a daze before his mother smothered him with worry and affection. Though before I had kept my senses out and beyond, now I stretched them yet further so as to avoid hearing the words of the woman beside me.


    ¡°You are a very strange mage,¡± a familiar voice said from not so far away. ¡°I do not know much about mages, Lord Chul, but I do not think they are all like you.¡±


    I readjusted Suncrusher from where she rested on my shoulder, ensuring the sunlike-rays from the burnished cracks along its head would not blind the kind elder. ¡°I do not think it strange, Mayor of Men,¡± I said. ¡°My Mother taught me that all children are sacred. It is law where I come from, and surely you see this.¡±


    The Mayor of Men was a short, squat, and thin human. His arms could wield no weapons, and the aged complexion of his skin told me he could not fare on the battlefield. But when I had found his great city under assault by the rabid, corrupted monsters of the Vritra, he had stayed strong.


    The Mayor looked up at me, squinting as he observed my face. I looked back down. ¡°That is not really what I meant, Lord Chul,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°But I do not think it matters.¡±


    We were on a quest now. In the wake of the corrupted beast attack, the great city of the humans had been decimated. A few hundred of their kind had been displaced, hurt, and broken. I had contributed all I could to try and alleviate the pain caused by the monsters from Alacrya, but I could not bring back their dead, and I could not rebuild their houses.


    That is something the people of my clan could do, I thought once again. I may be limited to the arts of fire and war, but they can build and create. Yet they do not help the poor souls of this land.


    A messenger had come not long after, claiming to be carrying word from the great union of races. All were to evacuate the countryside and move toward the place where black bends.


    It was a strange name for a city. Why should they call it Blackbend when there was no true warping of color there? Yet another oddity.


    ¡°You¡¯ve spoken a bit about your mother,¡± the Mayor of Men said with questioning intent. ¡°You speak of her with great pride.¡±


    I nodded sharply. ¡°My mother is a valiant woman,¡± I spoke from the depths of my heart. ¡°She was the greatest of my clan, Mayor of Men. But she was betrayed by the cowards of the Vritra clan. They could not have faced her head-on, for her prowess was mighty and her fists strong. But now¡­¡±


    I thought of all I knew from Uncle¡¯s words. He knew not if Mother was alive or dead, but something had changed. And he would not tell me everything, so now I sought answers for myself.


    ¡°I know not if she lives,¡± I said, my rumbling baritone quieting as the fire in my core burned low. ¡°Yet I will learn of her and what has become of her in the wake of the Vritra¡¯s schemes.¡±


    The Mayor of Men sighed, his shoulders sagging. ¡°I am sorry for that, Lord Chul,¡± he said. ¡°If it is worth anything, you are not alone in your plight. With the Alacryans attacking our shores, our supplies for farming became scarcer and prices skyrocketed. We were a small village, you know. Only a few hundred people. The taxes were already hard, but then the dwarves started pushing us from the south.¡±


    The old man looked at the convoy around us. His eyes lingered on the few mana beasts that hauled the carts of wounded and supplies each, the creatures barely more than skin and bones themselves. ¡°And now this, with the attacks from mana beasts and rumors of the dwarves siding with the Alacryans¡­ We can¡¯t even farm now. We can¡¯t grow our crops or sow our seeds.¡±


    My fists clenched at the good Mayor¡¯s words. ¡°You say these dwarves hurt you, Mayor of Men?¡±


    The man looked up at me, his face sad. Yet he spoke not.


    I felt that familiar fire growing in my stomach. The surge of righteous fury that fueled every strike of my explosive power. I kept my attention focused, though, fearful that any leak of my mana would cause the hearts of these good people to shake and seize. ¡°I will see justice done for you, Mayor of Men,¡± I said staunchly, thumping my fist against my broad chest. ¡°The Vritra take all that they can, but I will rain fire on them for their sins. Mark my words¨Cyour people shall be avenged.¡±


    The Mayor shuffled slightly as he walked. ¡°I may not be a fighter, Lord Chul, but I have seen them. Back in the last war between humans and elves, when I was young and spry. I knew too many friends who threw themselves into the horrible meat grinder of war for whatever reason.¡±


    ¡°Worry not, good leader,¡± I said, dismissing his fears. I was great and powerful, especially in comparison to the many mages of this land. The Vritra would only feel fear as Suncrusher cratered in their skulls. ¡°I am more than I let myself seem. The strength of my magic is bound by blood and heartfire. The justice I bring will be true.¡±


    The Mayor of Men was a great leader, and he was certainly wise. I could see no other way that a sole man could lead several hundred. After all, my clan numbered in the same range, as did most asuran lines. It was a tragic loss of life and livelihood that he had experienced, but the blood spilled by the Vritra would be repaid in turn.


    My head snapped to the side in alarm, however, as I heard the sound of wood creaking. My dark orange hair shifted slightly as I saw the source of the commotion.


    One of the great pack beasts¨Ca skitter, as it was named¨Cwas stumbling and failing to pull a covered wagon. One of the wheels appeared to have broken, and in turn the axle of the craft had shattered. This part of the procession of men, women, and children halted as the wagon tumbled into the road haphazardly, no longer able to move.


    Immediately, I stepped forward, Suncrusher heavy on my shoulder as I observed the wreckage. I stood head and shoulders taller than these famished people, allowing me a clear vantage to understand. Around me, the people kept a small distance, unwilling to look into my eyes or talk for too long.


    I could hear the groaning of the wounded within. The quiet moans of pain as they were jostled and moved about unduly by the failure of their craft.


    The Mayor of Men stepped forward, parting the small crowd. ¡°What¡¯s happened here?¡± he said urgently, his hand trembling around his staff.


    A man I recognized had been leading the skitters wrung his hands after struggling to detach the agitated skitters, his face shifting between a dozen emotions. ¡°The wheel and axle broke, Jonathan,¡± he said. ¡°We can¡¯t move the wounded without some sort of repairs.¡±


    ¡°And can you repair it?¡± the Mayor asked with plain worry.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± the carriage driver responded. ¡°But that will take time. Several hours at least! But these people are already in critical condition. The woodswoman that saw to them said we can¡¯t wait long to get them to an emitter or healer at Blackbend, but this would delay that,¡± he said, his voice growing progressively quieter as he spoke, trying to avoid the panicked looks of the people around him.


    A ripple of uncertainty and fear radiated through the crowd as more and more stopped to gaze upon the unfolding situation. My free hand clenched and unclenched, that fire in my gut surging as my blood heated.


    ¡°You only need this carriage taken to the walls where black bends, yes?¡± I said, stepping forward as I looked down at the driver.


    The man sputtered as he looked up at me. ¡°Y-Yes, Lord Chul,¡± he said. ¡°But it¡¯s a dozen miles still to the city!¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, adjusting my grip on Suncrusher as I stared down at the carriage. ¡°Then it is light work,¡± I said, shifting so that I was at the front of the carriage. ¡°Tell me, carriage driver. Where must I hold this cart so that it will not fracture further?¡±


    The carriage driver blinked, looking at me without understanding. ¡°The front frame can support the weight of the carriage. It has to for repairs, but¡­ but that¡¯s several tons at least! You can¡¯t¨C¡±


    I knelt, holding out my free hand behind me. I grasped the sturdy wood, feeling it beneath my palms. It was made of good stock, but had been battered and worn by overuse. It would last the journey.


    With hardly any pull on my meager mana reserves, I stood, lifting the carriage up so that it rested on its hind wheels once more. The jaws of the watching humans dropped as I stared down with a will of iron at the carriage driver.


    ¡°I will take you to the city where black bends,¡± I said seriously, flexing my muscles as I settled my resolve. ¡°And your people will see justice.¡±


    ¡ª


    My mana core was quick to burn through its reserve. As I bore the blood of both phoenix and djinn, my powerful asuran body was restricted by the peaceful nature of my Father¡¯s people. My body consumed mana to survive like Mother¡¯s people, but with a weakened core, it was easy to burn away like a wildfire that consumes all its tinder.


    But the cart was light, despite the many wounded within. As I carried it for mile after mile, the awestruck people of the destroyed city gradually drifted back into the mess of the moving crowd.


    As we drew nearer, I watched with surprise as more and more moving trains of people flocked in our direction. The sight was like hundreds of sureswipe ants returning to their colony after a successful hunt.


    But as the train of refugees became a marching army, uncertainty rose in my mana core. There were so many people. My Mother and Uncle had told me, of course, that the humans reproduced faster and spread greater distances than we asura of the Hearth. But there were just so many.


    And then the city crested the horizon.


    Massive walls of tall, dark granite surrounded an impossible sprawl of buildings within, the looming earth snaking around for what must have been miles. With my enhanced senses, I could make out the distant smells of oil, leather, and sweat. The city itself stood in the great shadow of the Grand Mountains, and if I squinted my eyes, I could make out a dot further in the sky far to the north.


    I watched, my jaw threatening to gape as our train slowly approached the looming walls. Yet we were halted at a gate, a long line of dirty peasants and nervous humans barring our way. Hundreds¨Cno, thousands of humans milled about in camps outside those great walls. More refugees bearing the same worn and tired expressions of my comrades. Thousands of men, stretching all around the city.


    I slowed in my march, not yet feeling the ache in my muscles. But I gently set down the cart of wounded anyway.


    ¡°Mayor of Men¡­ This cannot be a single city. It is too large. Too big. I have never seen a place of living so vast. Do you not have a greater word for it?¡± I said, staring up at the tall walls.


    The Mayor turned to me, his face wrinkled. His gaze darted to the cart of wounded, and then back to me. ¡°Blackbend City is one of Dicathen¡¯s densest cities,¡± he said slowly, ¡°but it is still just a city, Chul. After all, I was only the leader of a small village.¡±


    I blinked, then looked down at the Mayor in surprise. ¡°But you led a dozen score men!¡± I said, my voice booming. ¡°If that is not the marker of a great population and bountiful people, I know not what is!¡±


    The Mayor was unsurprised by my outburst, simply taking my confusion in stride. Were humans truly this numerous? It was hard to imagine. I had thought his hearth a city, not a mere village!


    The Mayor stared with uncertainty and doubt at the line before us. ¡°I did my best, Chul. But I still¨C¡± the man shook his head. ¡°Regardless, this line will stall us by several hours, and the wounded need attention now. There might be another line for those who are strictly injured, so I¡¯ll have to send some of the townsfolk to do a perimeter walk of the city to see. And looking at it, I doubt we shall even be allowed entrance. All the refugees are camping outside the walls.¡±


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    I shook my head, clearing my mind of my surprise. It was no good to let oneself be taken unawares in battle, as Mother said, and life was just the same.


    ¡°No need, Mayor of Men,¡± I said sternly, looking up at the sky. ¡°I will see to the scouting of greater paths.¡±


    The sun was well past its zenith, and soon, dusk would fall. I felt the rising timbre of my blood as it began to sing, fire racing along my veins as I clenched and unclenched my free hand.


    I wanted to soar.


    ¡°Keep watch over your people, good Mayor,¡± I said, my blue-and-orange eyes narrowing as I stared up at the sun. ¡°I will return soon.¡±


    Then I bent my knees, imbuing my legs with mana. My bright orange martial robes flared as I gathered power to myself.


    Then I leapt upward.


    The mana in the atmosphere carried me, lifting me higher and higher and higher. I barely had a moment to comprehend the surprised look on the Mayor¡¯s face before I was a child of the winds, hauled aloft by her touch.


    I stopped eventually, staring up at the sky as the wind ruffled my robes and pulled at my short hair. Unable to restrain the vigor flowing through my blood, I bellowed a hearty laugh that came deep from my soul.


    I am so free, I thought, feeling the cool breeze this high in the sky. I am unburdened.


    I knew it, then. I would never be able to live within the Hearth again¨Cnot when I had tasted this glorious brush of freedom and the embrace of the sky as she denied the tyranny of gravity. My blood sang in a way I had never felt before. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stared out at the sun as it inched down toward the horizon far to the west. Miles upon miles of rolling plains and dotted hillsides and small mountains arrayed themselves as far as the eye could see, but my focus was drawn only to the setting star.


    ¡°I will find you, Mother,¡± I vowed again, my hand clenching around Suncrusher. ¡°I promise you. Your son has not forgotten you.¡±


    I ground my teeth as I felt the well of petty sentiment rise in my chest. I forcibly snuffed it out, burying it as one does a kindling ember. I sniffled as I observed the sunset, then turned to gaze back down at the city of men.


    It was so vast. Large beyond my comprehension, even this high in the air. I could see the many people milling about and darting through the streets in a hurry and reserve both. It was one large, packed bundle of life. So very, very different from the Hearth.


    They are always moving so fast, I thought, my eyes sharpening as I enhanced them with mana. I spotted a young man as he darted through the streets, in such a rush he didn¡¯t notice one of the apples he was carrying as it fell asunder. Can they not slow down? Can they not take the time to watch their steps?


    That was the kind of thing my Uncle would say to me, but as I saw thousands¨Cno, tens of thousands, maybe more¨Cdarting about all in confusion, I thought for the very first time that he might have held a point.


    If only he would be here to say it to the humans, I thought, my expression evening out. Then it would mean something.


    I swiveled my head around the perimeter of the city, noting the singular line from whence I had come. So many people. But as I traced the outline of the granite walls, I saw another place where people were entering.


    There, I thought, calling on the magic in my core. Surely, that is the place where the wounded are allowed in.


    I descended slowly toward the ground nearby, careful not to alert or startle the mana beasts and men that approached the opposite gate.


    Yet as I lowered, I noticed strange discrepancies. The carriages moving into the city were gaudy and rich, flashing deep purples and reds and golds all across their linings. The smell of scented perfumes and churning greed caused me some hesitation as I finally touched down a ways away.


    Suncrusher settled resolutely on my shoulder as I began my march toward the tall gates, noting how slim the line was. Men in gaudy clothes and pompous attire peered out from their carriages as I touched down, their eyes wide and their mana trembling.


    No, I thought as I neared. This is not a line for the wounded. It is something else.


    There was a large man in gaudy clothes talking with a gate guard, gesticulating wildly as he held some sort of badge aloft. ¡°And who are you to deny my noble house their entry into this city?¡± the fat one snarled, his body bristling like an angry beast. ¡°The esteemed house of Beynir will not stand to be kept waiting for so long outside the walls, guard. What is your name?¡±


    The guard visibly paled beneath his plate armor. ¡°You are free to enter, Sir Lionel Beynir,¡± he said pleadingly, his posture hunched beside the tall gate. ¡°It is just that we may not have the high-quality accommodations you¡¯re looking for¨C¡±


    The big one¨CSir Lionel Beynir¨Craised a meaty fist, smacking it across the guard¡¯s plated helm. The guard stumbled back, dazed. ¡°That is tantamount to refusing me, fool,¡± he snapped, his love handles bristling. ¡°To have a noble of my bloodline in anything less than the best quarters is denying my entry. I will have the name of your superior, immediately!¡±


    The guard stuttered, and I felt a rising fury grow in my gut. My face dipped into a scowl as I watched the guard sputter to respond, the fat one raising his hand to strike him once again.


    I pulsed mana across my bones and muscles, then I pushed forward.


    The displacement of air blew bits of dust and chips of stone around me as I appeared beside the ¡°noble,¡± catching his fist in my hand. It was a petty strength that pressed into the meat of my palm.


    The noble Beynir sputtered in surprise and horror as I interceded between him and the guard. He tried desperately to pull his hand back from my grip. ¡°What in the¨C¡±


    ¡°You will not lay a hand on the weak,¡± I said, my voice resonating. ¡°Only strike those who can strike back, Fat Noble. This is no worthy contest.¡±


    The Fat Noble squawked in surprise as he finally pulled his hand back, stumbling as his undue girth unsteadied his balance. Sweat beaded on his skin as his pinprick eyes narrowed on me, his other hand massaging his knuckles. ¡°How dare you lay hands on a noble of Sapin!¡± he hissed, raising a finger thick as a sausage as he stumbled backward. ¡°I¡¯ll have you flogged, you damn fool!¡±


    His neck swiveled¨Cor what could be called a neck¨Cas he stared angrily back at his carriage. ¡°Guards! See to it that this idiot is on his knees and bloodied for his crimes!¡±


    The guard trembled behind my study bulk as I watched half a dozen human mages crawl from their caravan, their eyes hardening as they stared at me. All were arrayed in different forms of rune-covered armor, no doubt considered impressive by the standard of this people.


    ¡°Sir, you need to run¨C¡± the guard said behind me.


    ¡°Worry not, Small Guard,¡± I said, shifting my stance as I held Suncrusher on my shoulder. ¡°So long as I stand between you and evil, you will have protection.¡±


    My eyes watched as the mages began to surround me, attempting in vain to block me in. ¡°Wasn¡¯t smart of you,¡± one of them said as they passed the Fat Noble. ¡°Tryin¡¯ to pick a fight with House Beynir. But it isn¡¯t anything personal,¡± he said, flourishing a spear.


    I inhaled, then let out a breath. I slowly heaved Suncrusher off my shoulder, the mace suddenly seeming far more heavy. It looked like the scale of the earth¡¯s crust as if kissed by fire, little rivulets of light pulsing between chasms along the head.


    As these petty men saw the face of my weapon more clearly, they hesitated, watching it with uncertainty. I kept my mana leashed, so they did not comprehend the predator they faced. They did not understand that they faced a warrior of the Hearth.


    ¡°My Mother preached mercy,¡± I said lowly, feeling the fire in my blood rise as my mana trembled. ¡°But mercy is dead, Petty Men. You will find none should you continue on this doomed path.¡±


    A pulse of power radiated from the depths of my being, agitating the ambient mana as it traveled in a swell. A flurry of wind trailed in its wake, causing the clothes of the mages to whip backward and pebbles to dance along the roads. The Fat Noble stumbled, his eyes widening as his carriage shook.


    I raised Suncrusher high, feeling the kiss of the sunlight behind me as she radiated her power. ¡°Take one step forward,¡± I said, glaring at the guards as they began to tremble from the barest glimpse at my strength, ¡°and I will bring the sun down.¡±


    I could sense their hesitation. They were starting to recognize what they faced.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, idiots!¡± the Fat Noble said behind them, blubbering as he stumbled back to his cart. ¡°Attack him!¡±


    The lead soldier¡¯s arm shook where he held his spear, indecision warring there. Suncrusher stayed in the air, ready to reap her vengeance.


    ¡°This is unseemly,¡± a new voice said, interrupting the tension. I turned my head a fraction of an inch as I saw a new figure approach.


    A man in a dark suit trimmed so perfectly to his body I wondered if it were of asuran craft stepped forward, walking from another carriage a ways back. His close-cropped black hair clung to his head in perfect style, his posture radiating arrogance and status. Along his breast, a stylized brooch bearing a flame hung neatly. His expression was severe and cold.


    ¡°Lionel Beynir,¡± the man said, addressing the Fat Noble, ¡°you should withdraw your troops.¡±


    The Fat Noble¡¯s beady eyes snapped to the newcomer. ¡°But he interrupted me, Trodius. He stopped me from¨C¡±


    ¡°Lord Beynir,¡± Trodius interrupted coolly, ¡°you are not conducting yourself in a manner fit for a noble. Settle yourself, then speak again.¡±


    The tall, dark man¡¯s words cut through the fat one¡¯s sputtering like the greatest asuran knife. ¡°I apologize, Lord Flamesworth,¡± he ground out, his eyes flicking back to me. ¡°But this lumbering brute put himself in front of our convoy when we were set to enter. He is obstructing noble business.¡±


    The now-named Trodius Flamesworth looked me up and down with his cold eyes. I matched his gaze with mine, my eyes still burning with fire. His gaze flicked to Suncrusher, still hefted in silent threat, then back to me.


    I could see the schemes behind his eyes.


    ¡°I do not believe I have ever seen you, newcomer,¡± Trodius Flamesworth said, stepping forward without showing fear. His hands were locked behind his back, and he radiated no killing intent as he stood before me. ¡°Yet you arrive from the sky and threaten the men under my protection.¡± Trodius turned slightly, acknowledging the trembling soldiers as they finally retreated.


    ¡°It was your man who first erred,¡± I rebutted, fire rumbling in my voice. The ambient mana churned from my power as it was slowly unleashed after being kept in check for so long. Behind Trodius Flamesworth, the Fat Noble trembled, the stench of urine radiating from his pants. ¡°He thought to strike a man who could not strike back.¡±


    I leaned down so that I was eye-to-eye with this Trodius, matching his red pupils with my mismatched ones of orange and pale blue. I bared my teeth in a threatening snarl. ¡°And it is only just to return every strike given. An eye for an eye.¡±


    To his credit, the nobleman did not tremble or shake. I saw his schemes in his eyes, but he did not waver as the men around him. The only sign of his discomfort was how his hands clenched behind his back and the slight gritting of his teeth.


    ¡°What reason did you come here for initially, mage?¡± he asked instead.


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°I seek protection for the ravaged people of Sapin. I shelter the wounded beneath my wing, but they will not see the dawn if they do not see your healers. So I sought another place of entrance, yet happened upon injustice instead.¡±


    Trodius¡¯ eyes narrowed. ¡°That is all?¡±


    Suncrusher flared, sparks fluttering across its head, and Trodius swallowed imperceptibly as the heat washed over him. ¡°That is all.¡±


    There was a tense, tense silence for a long moment as we stared at each other. I saw the schemes in his eyes finally solidify, finally cement into something sharp.


    ¡°Lionel Beynir, our entrance into the great city of Blackbend will be delayed for a time,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°This warrior has brought his people to safety. It is only fitting that the nobles of Sapin tend to her people, and the healers of the Flamesworth House are the best that anyone can find. And considering how you have inconvenienced him, it is only fair that we repay it in turn.¡±


    I blinked, slowly straightening as I stared down at the nobleman in confusion. Though the men behind him tried to fight it, he did not give their words due heed. Simply stared up at me.


    I thought about it for a time, weighing what I should do. ¡°Very well,¡± I said after a moment. My eyes turned back to the guard I had interceded for. ¡°But should those under my protection see any sort of harm, I will repay it in turn upon you and your men.¡±


    Trodius Flamesworth nodded sharply. ¡°Be on your way, then,¡± he said. ¡°My convoy will wait for your return.¡±


    I sensed no trap, yet I could not help but feel as if I had been led by the nose as I let the wind carry me back into the sky. The mages stumbled backward as the wind pushed them aside and I flew toward my charges.


    ¡ª


    It did not take long for me to haul the cart of wounded to the noblemen, the Mayor of Men trailing nervously with me. When I had told him of the deal I had struck, he had grown fearful and afraid, and while I did not admit it, I felt a sort of twist in the depths of my core as I laid the cart of wounded before the mages said to be healers.


    I still stood by the cart as the emitters worked, watching their craft. I felt my jaw clench as they nervously called on their healing magic, beckoning the ambient aether to their call. Aether I could not sense or touch.


    Trodius Flamesworth strode up to me, his shoes seeming to ignore the dust as a concept. He watched me with hawklike red eyes as I observed the mages do their work.


    ¡°I never received your name, warrior,¡± he said sharply as he observed with me. ¡°I must know what to address you as.¡±


    ¡°I am called Chul among my people,¡± I said, staring at the healing mages.


    My father was the last of the living djinn in the Hearth. It had been so many years¡­ Years that just faded into the background of repetition. Centuries since I had witnessed the arts of the djinn.


    It seemed something of my father¡¯s lineage remained in the people of this continent, if in trace amounts.


    Will I ever be able to feel the aether of my heart? I wondered as I stared down. Or the aether of the sky?


    I could sense neither, despite my dual lineage. It was suspected by the elders of my clan that the two blood-tied insights were incompatible and could not mesh. But that felt wrong, somehow.


    Maybe if I had ever undergone my First Sculpting, I thought, my fist clenching around Suncrusher. Maybe then I would be able to drink of aether.


    ¡°Chul,¡± Trodius said slowly. ¡°It is not a Dicathian name.¡±


    ¡°It is not.¡±


    A silence spread between us as we both watched the emitters do their work. I knew not how long they tarried, but before long, the wounded and injured were cured of their surface and critical maladies. Few awoke or were conscious, yet I could tell from their eased breathing that they were indeed healed.


    I turned to the noble beside me, scrutinizing him darkly. He was a schemer. The kind that my Uncle warned me of. Yet he had also acted justly to assuage the guilt of his subordinate.


    ¡°You have acted justly today, Noble of Flames,¡± I said, my eyes narrowed. ¡°I will not forget it, but I will not give you my trust.¡±


    Trodius Flamesworth shifted at my words, pulling on a set of gloves that he retrieved from his pocket. ¡°I did no such thing as justice, Lord Chul,¡± he said sternly. ¡°Because justice does not exist.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, then scoffed. ¡°Sense is lacking in your words, Noble of Flames.¡±


    Trodius looked up at me. ¡°When the beast horde attacked these people in the countryside,¡± he started, his eyes roving over the wagon as the Mayor of Men bowed and prostrated before the emitters in thanks, ¡°were they acting with injustice? Did they conceive of any sin?¡±


    My brow furrowed. ¡°They are beasts. How could they?¡±


    ¡°They were beasts,¡± Trodius agreed. ¡°Corrupted, perhaps. But following instincts inscribed into their blood. They did not think the act of biting into a child and tearing them apart was wrong, nor believe their actions were unjust. It simply never crossed their minds.¡±


    ¡°But they were beasts. You are not,¡± I said, confused at this avenue of thought. ¡°I sense you wish to make a comparison, but it is false. Do you not have a conscience?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t beasts have a conscience?¡± Trodius countered, staring up at me with narrowed eyes. ¡°When a mana beast grows in the wild, they gradually develop a subtle, subconscious voice. Just as any other creature. One that tells them that they should not attack their pack-mates, for they will fall with fewer numbers. That they should not leave their children out to die¨Cor that they should abandon those children should they serve unfit to continue the lineage.¡±


    I felt anger growing in my stomach at the man¡¯s words, for I knew them to be false. Yet I could not conjure an immediate response in this duel of words. ¡°That is not what a conscience is,¡± I finally said, sure of my answer. ¡°It is more than a voice trained by the world. It is innate; a whisper of the aether itself.¡±


    Trodius snorted in disdain. ¡°You are free to think so. But just like any mana beast, we shit. We piss. We sweat. We kill, and we die in turn. But it is those who rise to the top who position themselves as the greatest. A law of the jungle, regardless of any ¡®conscience.¡¯ ¡±


    Trodius¡¯ words settled across my bones as he turned back to his carriage. ¡°There is no such thing as justice, Lord Chul. Our tools for putting us above our prey are just more advanced than the mana beasts that grovel beneath our feet. Conscience is just another tool. The lineages and legacies we claim are not done so through any empty morality, but through the power of our fist and the cunning of our minds.¡±


    The well-dressed man strode away without another word, leaving me quietly simmering in anger and disdain.

 Chapter 254: Long May He Reign

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Chul Asclepius


    It did indeed take several hours for the line to dwindle enough to allow the good people of the countryside into the city. I stayed with them, wary of some sort of cowardly strike from the noblemen from before. The Mayor of Men had explained to me in the aftermath that many nobles were callous and cruel to those they deemed lesser, and I had risked their wrath in saving that lone soul.


    The way he described them made me think of how Soleil described the dragons of the Indrath Clan. With their holier-than-thou attitudes and upturned chins, the bearded phoenix had recounted to me how they held the other clans with a measure of disdain.


    But the Flamesworth noble, I thought as I stared down at the bed in the rented room. He was different. Yet I do not understand how.


    The Mayor of Men had graciously offered coin to an inn owner. Apparently, many of the inns and taverns within Blackbend were packed and crowded beyond belief due to the influx of refugees. The city itself seemed fit to bursting, even as many tents and campsites were arrayed outside the walls.


    The Mayor of Men had counted himself lucky even being able to gain entrance to the city at all, a token of the Noble of Flames¡¯ allowance. But once inside, it was nearly impossible to even walk.


    People were everywhere, radiating fear and anxiety as they were packed like arrows in a quiver. More than once on my way to the inn, I had to measure my step so that I would not trample those smaller than I beneath my feet.


    Now, I ate a small meal of oats and dried meat in the common room of the inn, keeping my bulky form in the corner and away from prying eyes. Suncrusher hung simply from my belt, her light low in the tense room.


    The good inn owner had explained that rations in the city were low. With the farmers and countrymen being forced to cluster around the cities, food stores were dwindling rapidly as demand outpaced supply.


    But I did not need great sustenance to maintain my body. Mana was the driving succor of the asura, and I was no different.


    Still, as I tasted the humans¡¯ strange concoction of oats¨Cit was more bland than the fruits grown from the Hearth Trees¨CI let myself listen in on the conversations happening around the common area.


    ¡°Think you¡¯ll be going back to the Wall, Nathan?¡± a bulky man asked a thinner mage. ¡°I know your unit is technically here just for resupply, but there¡¯ve been a lot of reassignments lately. What with all the¡­ dangers of the countryside.¡±


    The stringy one called Nathan sighed, sloshing a drink in his mug. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Saul. We are here for a resupply, but this feels different. The attacks on the Wall have started to slow, ya know?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re¡­ slowing?¡± Saul said with uncertainty, leaning forward in his seat. ¡°Didn¡¯t hear anything about that from my garrison¡¯s reports.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been slowing for months,¡± Nathan said sharply, his voice lowering. ¡°We expected some sort of massive horde to attack us, so we prepared and geared up en masse for an assault. But it never came.¡±


    ¡°It did come, though,¡± the other responded quietly. ¡°Just not at the Wall.¡±


    The patrons around the common room jumped in surprise as Nathan slammed his mug into the table with the thunderous crash of a judge¡¯s gavel. ¡°What¡¯s the point of it all?¡± he lamented, his voice breaking. With a start, I realized he must have been intoxicated. So early in the morning? ¡°We built the entire fucking Wall to keep people safe, Saul! And still, people die!¡±


    The inn common room¨Cwhich had been bustling with steady noise¨Cfell silent at Nathan¡¯s outburst. All eyes turned to him as he stood, his flushed cheeks barely hiding the blurring tears. ¡°We¡¯re useless up on that slab of rock and stone! We¡¯re all trying to save our families back here, but it¡¯s useless!¡±


    The man didn¡¯t seem to realize that he¡¯d captured the attention of the inn as tears started streaking from his eyes. ¡°Now Darv has fallen! Our entire southern flank is just open! And we haven¡¯t heard from the Council in over a week, and there are rumors that the Alacryans managed to attack Zestier itself! Have we lost already?¡±


    The man slumped back into his seat like a sack thrown to the floor. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ What can we even do?¡± he asked, and I could almost sense the rest of the patrons asking the very same question.


    I swallowed the last of my meal of oats in silence, then set the bowl on the table. The words of the Flamesworth noble rang in my head. That there was no such thing as true justice; only that the strong dominated the weak.


    I stood up from the table in the corner, the scraping of the chair piercing the silence. I stood at seven feet tall, and as I pushed to my full height, all eyes in the room focused on me.


    I looked over at the trembling mage, Nathan. He did not seem aware of my presence, but when I set a hand as large as his head on his shoulder, he jumped in surprise.


    ¡°Take heart, soldier of man,¡± I said gravely. ¡°You suffer now, perhaps. But it will not last. There is always a Dawn.¡±


    I made up my mind there. I would join these poor souls, helping them toward their victory against the wretched Vritra. I had seen the devastation the decaying beasts laid in their wake. I had borne witness to the plight of the common folk.


    Mother taught me to stand for my ideals, I thought. And so I shall. I will not allow these folk to come to harm. The Vritra take mothers and children every day, beyond my own. So I shall see justice done.


    Nathan looked down at my hand, blinking in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when another man slammed open the doors.


    The newcomer¡¯s eyes were wide, his breathing uneven. His dress would have been considered tidy, but it was unkempt and covered in dirt. ¡°A message from the Council!¡± he bellowed, his voice radiating with sound magic through the inn. ¡±All in the city are to gather in the central square of Blackbend, or near as you can! An announcement is soon to appear by projection artifact! All questions will be addressed there!¡±


    The man flashed a symbol¡ªlikely the emblem of the Triunion Council¡ªbefore running like the wind from the door. The people within stood in shock, but I was not so struck by stars. I moved to the door, peering my head out and watching as the messenger continued to go door to door and give his message.


    The wide streets were already crowded, but I could foresee the true chaos that would soon unfold, the many humans crowding the streets as they tried to edge closer to wherever the projection artifact was.


    I exhaled through my nose, then stepped out into the slowly congesting roads. I allowed the ambient mana to carry me aloft, disregarding the awe-struck stares of the many small dots below as I gradually rose into the air once more.


    I oriented in the sky, watching the streams of humans as they pushed toward one point¨Cno doubt the central square.


    I wonder what this message may be, I thought as I pulled in my mana, hovering closer and remaining in the shadow of a great building. All questions would be addressed, the messenger claimed. But was his heart true in such words?


    I had yet to witness this Council of humans, elves, and dwarves. But as my new resolution to assuage the ills of this land settled in my stomach¡ªburning beside the desire to discover the whereabouts of my Mother¡ªI realized I would need to know their hearts were I to join them in their quest.


    I quickly pinpointed the artifact in question. It was large and bulky, easily great enough to match a score of men working together. Half a dozen humans darted around it, checking levers and performing tests. It was raised in such a way that it garnered great attention from the masses far below, and I found myself curious as to its workings.


    The Hearth did not have much in the way of artifacts and mana tools. I knew of their existence, of course. Father had told me a great many wonders of his people when I was still a child, and no few of his wondrous stories were supplemented by the great items of the djinn. He waxed poetic about the great abilities of his people¡¯s tools. How they eased the lives of all for millennia.


    The humans do the same, I thought, watching as the mana within the artifact began to build. Father told me of the projection artifacts of his people. How they would display stories and memories for all to view and enjoy on panes of light itself.


    Unbidden, I felt my heartbeat thunder in my chest as I stared down at the artifact, feeling my anticipation rise. I had doubts deep in my heart that this device could match the austerity of my late father¡¯s people, but still. Hope bloomed.


    I wonder what the great monarchs of this land look like, I wondered, already feeling a grin splitting my face. Will they be great and powerful? Wise and noble?They must be, to resist the Vritra so. I know not how an elf appears, nor dwarf. I have heard descriptions, though, and inquired on the names from the Mayor of Men. But¨C


    The artifact snapped, and a panel of mana fuzzed into existence high in the sky. It stretched through the empty space, vast as any river. And I could see it. See the figure displayed prominently in the artifact.


    My jaw dropped as I stared up at it, able to see the figures present.


    A man with maroon hair like a world lion stood resolutely alongside a pale woman of dark hair and ephemeral grace. Their clothes were adorned with gemstones and silks of quality to match the oldest asura in my Hearth. I immediately knew these to be the human monarchs, Blaine and Priscilla Glayder. Their backs were straight and solid, their expressions graceful. Yet despite their majesty, I could see the marks of wear and battle in their postures.


    At their side, another pair stood in stark contrast. With hair of silver and robes that flowed and curved rather than clung, the elven leaders radiated a sort of beauty that I knew not existed before today. But as I stared closer at Alduin and Merial Eralith, my wide smile began to diminish.


    They hid it well, those elves. Even through the projection artifact, I wondered if there were any who could truly divine the emotions behind their eyes. I saw weariness. Exhaustion. Despite how strong they stood, something in their very being was trembling from the effort.


    And finally, a dwarf stood by the side. He was not as short as I expected, but his body was packed with an honorable density of muscle. As I stared at his resolute form, I wondered what his training regimen was. Such a great physique could not be achieved by chance.


    The crowd below cheered as the councilmembers were revealed, their dark backdrop making them stand out all the more in contrast. Yet I immediately felt my mood sour and my gut clench as my smile fell away.


    These were not great and strong leaders as I had expected. They put on a valiant front for all who sought to know their hearts, but I could see it. See how they were barely able to stand. See how their hope was thin.


    ¡°War hurts everyone, Chul,¡± my Father¡¯s voice sifted softly over my mind. ¡°It is impossible to remain unaffected. To keep one¡¯s soul clear.¡±


    They look like my Father, I realized with growing fear. As he was when he allowed himself to lament my people¡¯s fate.


    The one named Blaine stepped forward, the act causing the many cheering humans in the crowd to quiet down.


    ¡°People of Dicathen,¡± he said, his voice loud and strong as he stared into the recording artifact, ¡°It has not been long since we all addressed you like this. Not long ago, Commander Virion announced the appointment of a new Lance. Of a new power in this war.


    ¡°But since then, things have changed.¡±


    The crowd stilled as Blaine¡¯s eyes misted. ¡°There has been much uncertainty in the war these past few months. I have received many a report of the lives taken from us. Torn from our people by the monstrous Vritra. And while we are being slaughtered, a faction of rebellious dwarves capitalize on our sorrow. They seek to aid the Alacryans while we weep over the innocents and dig graves more vast than any dug before.¡±


    Blackbend had bustled and toiled, the sounds weaving through it always audible. But as a silence fit for a grave stilled the hearts of all, I felt my teeth clench.


    ¡°You have all been asking questions. Demanding answers of your leaders,¡± Blaine Glayder continued, his hands clasped behind his back. ¡°And here, we give that. That and more.¡±


    Blaine stepped back, his eyes shadowed as he said his part. The elven king was next, his light robes flowing with an ethereal wind as he stepped toward the recording artifact. His eyes were hollow, but simultaneously hard. ¡°A week past, the Alacryans¨Calready proven cowards by how they slink and hide from direct battle¨Cfinally showed their scales once more. They struck at the elven kingdom of Elenoir, seeking to hurt us deep in our hearts. They sought to tear the spirit of the Council asunder. Because they assaulted our Commander.¡±


    The elven king looked up at the sky, seeming to sense the utter silence and shock that grasped the people of Dicathen. ¡°Our Commander fought valiantly for all of you. In his battle, he felled two Retainers of the enemy, but he suffered for it. Even now, he lingers on the edge of death.¡±


    When the elven king looked back down, his face was painted with such rage that it made me shudder. A swell went through the crowd as they collectively reared back, the sharp and thin features of the handsome king turned ghoulish and demonic from fury.


    ¡°They wanted to break us!¡± he snarled. ¡°Break our hearts. Break our resolve. Tear apart our unity!¡± he yelled, raising a fist. ¡°And do you know what we said in turn?


    ¡°We chose loyalty.¡±


    A single step echoed from the recording artifact. The sound of boots on stone reverberated through me, seeming to echo across the entire city of Blackbend. They continued as Alduin Eralith stepped back, each resounding clack sending shudders through the crowd.


    Never before did I imagine footsteps to be a thing of power. But the steady, measured sound of each step made my breath catch and sweat grow on my palms.


    Each step built and built, but from where and what, I could not fathom. Like stone after laborious stone laid in the foundations of a great temple to the heavens, each of those footsteps seemed like little pieces working toward an impossibly great whole that I could not yet see. The monarchs stood solid and still as they stared gravely toward the artifact.


    It has all led to this, I thought. The despair shown before in their eyes. The hope and anger they speak of now.


    And then the monarchs parted like a curtain, moving aside for another.


    It was a young man¡ªyounger than any in the frame. He bore hair the color of fall leaves, the locks brushing his shoulders. A dignified stubble traced his sharp features, and his sea-blue eyes seemed to pierce me where I stood. It was his footsteps that radiated with the power of an asura¡¯s heartbeat.


    And at once, I realized my mistake. It was not a temple that those footsteps built, but a throne.


    His expression was severe, but there was a serenity to the deep azure eyes that made me freeze. His dress was simple in comparison to the other monarchs, with a close-fitting tunic that accentuated the power of his toned frame, while loose, dark pants allowed for ease of movement. A mantle lined with white fur sat neatly on his broad shoulders, and a beautiful rose with petals of silver was pinned to his shirt.


    He did not wear ostentatious jewelry. He did not clothe himself in gemstones or fine silks. But somehow, he appeared more regal than any other.


    Atop his head was a crown of gold. It was a simple thing, but there was a power in that simplicity.


    But behind him¡­ behind the young man, a monster lurked in the shadows.


    I felt my eyes widen as I stared at the figure that trailed the new King. For I recognized the sharp, angled horns that thrust from her pale wheat hair. Knew the reptilian glimmer in her amber eyes. And though her mask was that of a beautiful woman in a void-black dress, I understood at once what plagued this continent¡¯s steps.


    A dragon, I thought, my fists clenching. Of the Indraths.


    The new figure stared into the recording artifact, their expression reserved. ¡°The last time I spoke to this continent as Lance Arthur Leywin,¡± he said, his voice an even baritone as it washed over me, ¡°it was in a time of hope. Of belief in our people, where loyalty was strong. Where it was simple to cheer for our kings and queens as we wrenched victory from our defeated enemies.


    ¡°I come here to give no grand speech,¡± Arthur Leywin said, his head tilting. His eyes narrowed. ¡°Only a two-fold promise. A promise to the people of Dicathen, and a promise to Agrona Vritra.¡±


    And behind the king, the dragon began to glow a brilliant yellow, as if she were the sun itself. Her form became little more than light as she shifted and expanded, the crowd beneath me gasping in awe and shock as the disguise of a fair maiden fell away.


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    She grew and grew and grew. Larger and greater she became, till her midnight wings eclipsed the entirety of the stage. Till the men and women beneath her great, scaled bulk were little more than ants.


    The people far below cried out in awe and reverence as they beheld the sight. I heard many a cry for the false deities of the Indrath Clan. Many a lament that the asura had come to save them in their time of need.


    But I knew better.


    An earthshaking roar resounded from the recording artifact as the mighty dragon bellowed to the sky, yet I felt my anger rise in turn.


    The dragon lowered her great skull beside the auburn-haired king, allowing him to run a hand along her graceful scales. Those intelligent, otherworldly eyes only served to make me churn.


    ¡°I have trained with the asura of Epheotus for years,¡± Arthur Leywin said softly. ¡°When first the Vritra started their incursions on our home, I was taken from here to be molded. To be honed into what this continent needed. And now, that time has finally come.¡± The king looked away from the dark dragon¡¯s skull as it bent before him, staring back at the crowd. ¡°This I promise you, people of Dicathen. To fill the void left by Virion Eralith, I will be your Commander, for good or ill. Till the Vritra no longer threaten our shores. Till the monsters no longer ravage our countryside and it is safe to laugh beneath the sun once more.¡±


    The crowd was silent, stunned into a stupor as they tried to make sense of the declaration. But my mind was spinning as I looked at the Good King.


    Does he know what they are? I wondered, grinding my teeth. Uncle told me that the asura keep a guise of benevolence that they cast like a shroud upon the humans, elves, and dwarves. Does he know the dragon behind him is only poised to tear out his throat should he err?


    I sensed no falsehood in the king¡¯s promise¡ªbut it was just like the Indraths to groom a worthy puppet.


    ¡°That is my message to you, people of Dicathen,¡± he said sternly. ¡°But I have another oath to give. One for Agrona Vritra¡¯s ears.¡±


    If the footsteps of this king were great and resonant, then the ones that came next were soft and ephemeral. And when the scene changed to show another elf approaching, I felt my heartbeat rise. Though the elven woman drew the gaze in her own right, it was the bound prisoner that they dragged behind them that made the crowd¡¯s anger grow. Like mana thrown into a raging wildfire, the tumult of the crowd rose with fervor.


    A Vritra lessuran was there, chained and shackled. Their twisted limbs showed the wretched shape of their soul, and though their horns were shattered, I could make out the pointed rows of their teeth. Even as they were hauled closer and closer to the looming dragon and waiting king, a wretched, knowing smile was plastered on its face.


    The elven woman¡ªher hair the same color as the long-eared councilmembers far behind her¡ªthrew the broken prisoner like a wet sack at the king¡¯s feet. The king shared a look with her for a moment, before she turned, marching with the precision of a soldier to stand with the rest of the Council.


    The Good King looked down at the groveling Vritra at his feet, his gaze cold as the thing shuffled to its knees. Its red eyes were mad and wide as they stared up at Arthur Leywin¡¯s crown, no small hint of mocking there. ¡°Wow, pup,¡± it ground out, its voice like nails on stone, ¡°look at how far you¡¯ve climbed! I never thought you had it in you, ya know? I¡¯m so proud of you, falling back into old habits!¡±


    The king ignored the wretch, turning to the recording artifact. His hands were clasped leisurely behind his back. ¡°This is Retainer Uto. He was one of the Alacryans¡¯ greatest forces. But now, he is little more than an ant.¡±


    The Retainer turned his frazzled eyes to the recording artifact, noticing the king¡¯s attention. ¡°Wow, boy. You¡¯ve set all this up for me? And they can alllll see it?¡± Its eyes gleamed malevolently. ¡°I wonder what they¡¯ll think when I tear out your throat for all to see!¡±


    Suddenly, the Retainer lunged at the king, its mouth opened wide with teeth sharp as knives, each glinting in the sunlight. I could see its aim as it sought to bite into the king¡¯s throat.


    I sneered. Fool.


    The king leaned back slightly, allowing the teeth to easily miss him, before he brought a solid knee straight into the lunging Retainer¡¯s gut. The sound of bones crunching was audible even over the recording artifact.


    The Retainer fell like a broken puppet to the stones, coughing out black blood as its insides were broken. I could no longer see its malevolent eyes as its dark, stringy hair shadowed its face, but I could hear the low timbre of its horrid laugh through the pain.


    Arthur Leywin watched the wretch writhe on the ground, noting its pain as one might note a passing breeze. He slowly unclasped his arrms from behind his back, before holding one out to the side. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°This, Agrona, is my promise to you,¡± the Good King said. ¡°You laugh now. You laugh like the creature at my feet. You mock this continent, thinking yourself fit to rise from the Hell into which you were cast.¡±


    A purple blade shimmered into existence as if from nowhere, the edge sharp enough to cut space itself. The king gripped its matte-black handle as he stared in and through and past me. He raised his blade high, the edge glinting in the morning light.


    ¡°But when we are done?¡±


    He brought down his sword with the judgment of an executioner. Black blood sprayed, and a grotesque head rolled.


    ¡°There will only be silence.¡±


    Reynolds Leywin


    Alice was quiet today as we walked from the Helstea Manor, but I could tell from the hunch of my wife¡¯s shoulders that something was on her mind.


    As we took the familiar pathways in the morning light, I allowed myself to relax slightly. Alice would tell me when she was ready. That was something I¡¯d learned early in our marriage¨Cthat if I pushed, it would only push her away. I didn¡¯t always understand why. But I didn¡¯t always need to understand to help. So instead, I busied myself with thinking of the familiar streets.


    A week ago, Alice¡ªalong with many of the emitters stationed at the Wall¡ªwere called away from the healing that they had been performing. Apparently, new methods of anatomy and medical knowledge important for improving the abilities of our healers had been extracted from the Alacryans, and many of the more talented emitters were being temporarily re-stationed from across the continent so that they might learn this knowledge.


    And the preeminent center of learning in all of Dicathen was Xyrus Academy. Thus, my wife had abruptly found herself enrolled in school. I had followed her, of course. I would not place myself anywhere else but by her side, supporting her however I could.


    But in this calm place, my core still itched for battle. My fists clenched with a desire to bury themselves into the skull of some horrid mana beast; to return the pain and suffering they had wrought on my home. On my family, and on my comrades.


    And I had a feeling as to why my wife didn¡¯t wish to speak just yet. The elf, Albold Chaffer, trailed us from a ways away, his gray eyes alert beneath his sandy blonde hair. And though I could not sense him, I knew Camus, an elder of Elenoir, was trailing us too.


    Their stated reason for always shadowing us was that attacks on healers and emitters had increased recently, but I sensed a lie. If it were Albold Chaffer alone, perhaps I would have believed them. But I knew Camus¡¯ type. The kind that only followed orders from really high up.


    And finally, we stood before the gates of Xyrus Academy. The inside was bustling with students as they went about their normal classes, each blissfully ignorant of the horrors far outside. I watched them fondly, remembering the days of my long-gone youth.


    Ah, what a fool you were, I thought simply, watching as a few noble kids kicked around a ball as they used their free time the best they could. All rough and rowdy, thinking yourself fit for greatness.


    I chanced a glance down at my wife as she walked beside me, feeling warmth swell in my chest. I still didn¡¯t really understand how I ever managed to entrance a woman as beautiful as her. With hair the color of autumn itself, a face so kind even the deities in Epheotus would melt at the warmth, and a heart great enough for the world, I sometimes wondered what made me so special. What set me apart from all the other unlucky men of the world?


    Lucky man, I am, I thought, reminding myself once again. I could never let myself forget how blessed I had been, especially as the war dragged on.


    If I did, I would lose myself.


    My wife looked up at the gates with a strange sort of sadness in her eyes. ¡°Rey,¡± she said slowly, leaning into my arm, ¡°do you think Ellie would be here, if the war hadn¡¯t started?¡±


    I felt my throat constrict, but didn¡¯t let it show. I needed to be strong. Strong for her. ¡°Aye, I think she would,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I can imagine it, Allie. She¡¯d prance around with her bond, Boo, terrorizing all the teachers!¡±


    Alice chuckled lightly. ¡°Now, Rey,¡± she said, ¡°I didn¡¯t raise someone disobedient. I don¡¯t think our daughter would terrorize anyone.¡±


    I huffed. ¡°I said I could see Ellie here,¡± I said, rubbing my nose with a finger, ¡°but she¡¯s just like me, Allie. She¡¯s got the heart of an adventurer beating in her chest. This small place couldn¡¯t hold her for long at all.¡±


    My wife hummed, but didn¡¯t respond. And as she finally took the first steps toward the gate, I felt my mind drifting toward the last letters we¡¯d received from Ellie about a week ago.


    They were short and blunt, as they had been recently. Alice worried greatly about them. How could she know how our little archer was truly faring from only a dozen letters saying ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± and ¡°Nothing new?¡±


    I didn¡¯t worry. I¡¯d gone through a similar phase myself when I first set out to become an adventurer as I sought to put the passing of my parents behind me.


    I halted in my steps for a moment. Maybe I should send a more detailed letter back, I thought. Ellie knows we¡¯re not dead. But we shouldn¡¯t let her feel it.


    I walked with my wife to the outside of her classroom, where a dozen other mages waited inside for a professor. I stood to the side, allowing her to enter with a solid nod of my head.


    All the other emitters within didn¡¯t have people willing to wait for them. That only made my resolution to be there for Alice whenever she went to and from her classes grow stronger.


    I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms as I gave myself a bit of time to think. My body was still raging for combat. Raging for something to do to make a difference. But whenever I reminded myself of the good I was doing now, the boiling in my blood cooled somewhat.


    I chanced a glance to the side, noting Albold Chaffer¡¯s stiff posture as he stood ramrod straight by the doorway.


    ¡°Loosen your shoulders, son,¡± I said, nodding at his stance. ¡°Can¡¯t hit things with that spear of yours if your joints lock up.¡±


    Albold forcibly relaxed at my words. We didn¡¯t talk much, but I didn¡¯t have anything against the lad. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, forcing his gaze forward.


    My expression shifted as I noted the look in the man¡¯s eyes. I¡¯d seen it enough in my brothers-in-arms. Knew what it meant.


    Battle shock.


    ¡°Lad,¡± I said slowly, looking at the young elf with a closer eye. He couldn¡¯t have been much older than Arthur. Or Arthur¡¯s body. ¡°How many battles have you been in?¡±


    The elf snapped me a glance. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Too many. Or maybe not enough.¡±


    I¡¯d heard soldiers say they¡¯d been in too many battles before, but not enough? ¡°Why not enough?¡± I asked, curious.


    The young man hesitated, his grip tightening on his spear. ¡°Every one,¡± he said after a moment, his eyes going somewhere far, far away. ¡°Every one, I¡¯ve failed to really make a difference. And after every failure, I¡¯m put somewhere else. Out of sight.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a stupid way to think,¡± a familiar voice said as it approached. ¡°Especially considering what you did a week ago.¡±


    I turned, looking at Elder Camus. The older elf had long blonde hair pulled away from his face, a cloth band over his eyes. When he¡¯d first been assigned to us, he had stunk to high heaven¨Cbut a thorough scolding from Alice had finally convinced him to take a shower. Or three.


    ¡°Elder Camus,¡± the young Albold said, bowing slightly in his direction. ¡°It is an honor to see you.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t say the same,¡± Camus replied nonchalantly.


    Albold cringed.


    Camus hesitated, seeming to realize how callous his words had sounded. ¡°I do not mean to insult you, Albold. I simply cannot see.¡±


    Albold swallowed, looking away. ¡°Yeah. Thanks, Elder.¡±


    I coughed into a fist, wanting to break the awkward tension. ¡°Say, how about we¨C¡±


    I was interrupted, however. A voice blared over a nearby loudspeaker, echoing through the ambient mana. ¡°Everyone on Xyrus Academy grounds, report to viewing platform 3A,¡± it said. ¡°Repeat: everyone within Xyrus Academy grounds, report to viewing platform 3A. The Council is making an announcement.¡±


    Camus sighed. ¡°It¡¯s about time,¡± he said with annoyance. ¡°It took him long enough to organize it all.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± I asked Camus as Albold turned away. ¡°Is this about the fall of Darv? Does the Council finally have a response?¡±


    The morale of the troops at Blackbend had been horrendously low at the news of Vildorial¡¯s fall, which was only compounded by rumors of an attack on Zestier. I ground my teeth, my hands clenching unconsciously.


    ¡°That¡¯s part of it,¡± Camus grunted with a shrug. ¡°You¡¯ll see soon. But you should prepare for what you see. It will shock you.¡±


    Camus took the opportunity to walk away, going who-knew-where. Albold groaned, rubbing his forehead as if in pain.


    Those ominous words cast my emotions into a dark pit as the emitters in the classroom behind us gradually shuffled out. Alice immediately looked at me, moving closer as her class¨Ccomposed mostly of older men and women¨Cbegan following the professor.


    I inched closer to my wife as we walked through the crowded hallways. The chattering voices of a hundred academy teens echoed around us as other classes let out, each person desiring to know what the Council would say. Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware that Albold was trailing us silently.


    ¡°What¡¯s this about, Rey?¡± Alice asked quietly, her hands trembling slightly. ¡°An announcement from the Council? The last time we saw one was¨C¡±


    ¡°When Arthur became a Lance,¡± I said quietly, finishing her sentence. ¡°But things have been bad on the waterfront, Allie. Really bad. People have been asking questions; needing answers. And they¡¯re finally going to get some.¡±


    Alice was silent as the world around us came alight with chattering students. ¡°This feels wrong, Rey,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t shake this feeling in my gut. That whatever this announcement is¡­ It¡¯s not what we expect.¡±


    The Council won¡¯t surrender, I thought with resolve. Darv might have fallen, but I know that they would not bend so easily or sue for peace. Arthur would never allow it.


    That thought sobered me, but it also gave me a grim certainty. My last talk with Arthur had not gone well. He had been angry that we were willing to fight for our continent. He didn¡¯t understand the loyalty we held for our comrades; didn¡¯t know the drive we carried to fight for our homeland.


    But I knew that my son¡ªof this world or another¡ªwould never let the Council surrender to the monstrous Alacryans. For all of his faults, he wouldn¡¯t let this continent fall.


    I need to talk to him again, too, I thought, gritting my teeth and turning up my chin. I wrapped an arm around my wife, making myself a sturdy pillar of utmost support. Not just Ellie.


    ¡°Whatever comes our way, Allie,¡± I whispered, ¡°we¡¯ll get through it. Together, as we always have.¡±


    Alice leaned into my arms slightly as we walked up and up, finally reaching the viewing platform. It was a wide space, clearly designed to host a great gathering. It was akin to an open-air auditorium, with half a dozen sigils and different banners of noble houses draped around the walls.


    We waited nervously for a few minutes as noble kids filled in around us. I heard half a dozen theories and fantastical ideas only possible with the naivete of youth. Maybe we¡¯d decimated the Alacryans in the most recent battles. Maybe we¡¯d forced their surrender, or killed another Retainer.


    They¡¯re so hopeful, I thought, my eyes focusing on a young boy as he talked animatedly with one of his peers. It¡¯s so strange to see.


    I nearly jumped out of my skin, however, as a brush of wind caressed my ear, bringing a voice in its wake. ¡°Prepare yourself, Leywin,¡± Camus¡¯ voice said. ¡°What you see will not be easy.¡±


    I looked about, my brow furrowing as I tried and failed to locate the source. But my anxiety only rose further.


    But finally, a display artifact snapped on, a bright panel of mana illuminating the open-air auditorium. The attention of the gathered students and professors finally centered on the projection. And I could just make out the figures there¨Cthe Triunion Council.


    Minus Virion Eralith.


    ¡°Honey,¡± Alice said, her hands clenching around my jacket as her beautiful face twisted with growing anxiety. ¡°I don¡¯t want to watch. I don¡¯t want to listen to this.¡±


    I wrapped her in an embrace, only partly paying attention to the words of the Glayders as I held her. ¡°You don¡¯t have to watch,¡± I said, trying to be what she needed. ¡°Just listen.¡±


    Because I could sense it too. The other students around us all looked up with awe and reverence at the glory of their leaders, but there was something that seemed to whisper despair into my soul. As Alduin Eralith stepped up, appearing so different from when I¡¯d met him, I allowed my wife to bury her face in my chest.


    ¡°We chose loyalty,¡± Alduin¡¯s angrily resolved voice surged through the crowd.


    And then a footstep. A single, dread footstep. And they built and built, one after the other as the monarchs parted for another.


    And as I stared at the regal figure as they strode forward¡ªgarbed in simple silks and bearing a crown of startling gold¡ªI felt the blood drain from my face.


    Arthur would never allow it, I remembered thinking earlier. He would never allow our surrender.


    I was right, after all. Arthur would never let us lose. He would never let his family come to harm. He would burn himself away to ashes before he risked a hair on our heads.


    And as I stared up at the ghost of a man I called my son, bearing the crown of a king with the monarchs of the continent bowing their heads in submission, I felt my knees tremble in horror.


    Alice wept.


    Seris Vritra


    ¡°But when we are done?¡± Arthur Leywin¡¯s voice echoed out as Uto groveled beneath him.


    A smile twitched along my lips as the newly crowned king brought his blade down on the wretched Retainer¡¯s neck.


    ¡°There will only be silence.¡±


    The recording ended, the light fizzling out as I was suddenly enshrouded in shadow once more. My rooms were cold and dark, but my mind was alight with fire.


    And it all comes together, I thought. This is the great shift in the Council.


    When I had sent Toren on his journey to the Hearth over a week ago, I had expected our enemy¡¯s leadership to crumble in a snowball effect. I had seen it happen before, and had orchestrated such internal divisions a thousand times amidst my political foes in Alacrya. I could see the trajectory of this war and how the Triunion would fracture and break.


    Except instead of increasing disorder and chaos, something had changed. Many of my spies within the upper echelons of Dicathen¡¯s hierarchy had suddenly gone silent, their reports fizzling out. The flying castle itself had ceased to send any sort of information out, going on complete and utter lockdown except for a few select orders and necessary functions.


    I would have assumed this a last-minute attempt to staunch the critical wound that was Virion Eralith¡¯s loss, but my intuition told me otherwise. It was too orderly, too linear. There was something else shifting. Something I hadn¡¯t anticipated.


    Impressive, I thought, standing and striding toward my desk. On it, half a dozen reports from my spies and subsequent stores of information lay. Not far away, Inversion rested serenely.


    I reached a tentative hand out, brushing my fingers over the pale white horn. I focused my senses, feeling how the energies within the horn meshed and intertwined with my decay-attribute mana. It was as if the horn targeted the very darkness of my blood in its purest form, scouring it away at a fundamental level.


    I retracted my hand, looking at the burns that stretched along my palm.


    The fact that Arthur Leywin had so blatantly allowed his draconic bond to shift form for all the continent to see told me much. The authority he touted was sourced in his training in Epheotus and the dignity of the asura there, meaning¡­


    Kezess Indrath had broken the treaty. The asura had intervened a week ago in some fashion, installing Arthur as a king. His announcement hinged entirely on that idea. That his right to rule was borne from the asura beyond him.


    But it was an unstable thing. The people of Dicathen didn¡¯t know Arthur Leywin was a King in a previous life, didn¡¯t know his qualifications. His authority was tenuous and unsure for now. He made a statement by executing Uto, but he needed to cement his abilities in the eyes of the populace.


    Why the asura of Epheotus had risked such intervention¡­


    My mind flashed to Toren and his confrontation with Aldir Thyestes. It seemed that Kezess Indrath was taking any justification he could after the failure to break Taegrin Caelum.


    I allowed my soulfire to wash over my wound, cleansing the flesh and leaving healthy skin. I looked down at a map of Dicathen splayed across my desk, my eyes tracing the many different points of territory held by Viessa, Arthur, and me.


    If Arthur wished to endear loyalty in the people of Dicathen, he needed to prove himself to them beyond empty words. Which meant¡­


    My finger brushed across the vast Beast Glades. I wondered if Viessa had any idea what was coming for her.


    ¡°A master play, King Arthur Leywin,¡± I said, a grin stretching across my face. ¡°Maybe this war isn¡¯t so close to ending after all.¡±

 Chapter 255: Willbearer

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I sat atop the ever-still waters of my soul, my legs crossed and my breathing steady. As ever, the void was silent and beckoning, while the even heat of Aurora¡¯s soul on my back gave me purpose in what I needed to do.


    ¡°I do wonder what you shall perceive during this test of yours,¡± my bond said, sitting in a mirrored position across from me. ¡°Though I was Willbearer of the Asclepius for many an age, we asura do not know the true intricacies of what a Beast Will is, nor the effects it has on the deeper essence.¡±


    The flame-shrouded bird of my Phoenix Will sat nestled on my shoulder, the sentience within sensing my upcoming plan. After all, I was about to enmesh with it on perhaps a deeper level than any user ever had.


    I did not truly need to breathe where I sat in my soul. Already, I knew the form I bore was like a shadow cast on a wall. This ¡®body¡¯ was like an image of me drawn on a page as opposed to the true vastness of my soul beneath me.


    But my thoughts and flow of perception were still that of something beyond. I restricted myself to a degree to this piece of two-dimensional paper, but my thoughts were far, far more pure than anything in the outer world. A true flow of concepts and emotions and intent I did not understand.


    But still, feigning the need for breath and life enhanced the calming effects of this soulspace.


    ¡°Our Phoenix Will has been the avenue of greatest growth for me,¡± I said absently as I prepared myself. ¡°And if I understand how I absorb this insight and what goes into my assimilation on a more fundamental level, I might be able to improve the process. Or improve my understanding of the soul.¡±


    Aurora smiled kindly across from me. ¡°I¡¯ll be here to help, however you need me.¡±


    The Asclepius Will trilled on my shoulder in agreement, before hopping off and sitting casually on the surface of my soul. Beyond anything else, the intent of the Will was to be passed down and honed. To help its users grow.


    And so I took one step forward and allowed myself to be engulfed in fire. At my command, the Phoenix Will became indistinct¨Ca formless mass of orange and yellow¨Cbefore it sank beneath the waters.


    The change was immediate. I felt the rising tide of insight as my soul meshed with the expanse of the Will. Wherever I looked, I saw fire growing beneath the surface of my ever-still soul as I engaged my Acquire Phase. The water did not boil or churn, the concepts and ideas that made me me still whole despite the roaring energy deep below.


    I stood, feeling the warmth of Aurora¡¯s soul grow hotter. Though her shade stood before me, I opted to turn, gazing at the impossible star of her soul as it turned the void into a wonderful sky.


    But it was closer now. The heat increased from a pleasant spring breeze to the bare discomfort of a hot summer day. The waters of my soul glowed with light, the burning fires of insight radiating from my Sea and making the colors refract and change in strange ways as Aurora¡¯s soul drifted closer over our bond.


    My mother¡¯s shade stood beside me, staring up at her soul. ¡°I see,¡± she said slowly, watching the interplay of our souls as the sheer presence of her vast power influenced the pulse of the Phoenix Will as the waters of my soul bled light. ¡°This is how you perceive my effect on our Will. But this is nothing new, yet.¡±


    I nodded slowly as I looked down at my reflection in the impossibly flat sea. I thought I could feel a bit of it¨Cpart of my essence stretching ever-so-slightly from the growth of kindled fire deep in my soul.


    ¡°The Acquire Phase is the barest fraction of this power, though,¡± I said, my voice calm. ¡°It is like dipping my toes in the water. But if I want to really understand, I need to take the plunge.¡±


    I turned my head to Aurora, noting the human lines on her face. She was a beautiful woman¨Ca beautiful person. It was easier to see that, here. So close to the truth of her. ¡°I¡¯m going to delve deeper,¡± I said. ¡°And I want to feel the effects with and without your influence on the Will.¡±


    Aurora gave me a sideways hug, running a hand through my hair. I blushed slightly as she squeezed me tight. ¡°As you wish, my son,¡± she said kindly, before moving away.


    I didn¡¯t need to adjust my hair back into place, simply will it toward what I believed to be the ¡°proper¡± state. As I did so, however, I found myself contemplating Aurora¡¯s place here.


    In the outer world, she was hesitant with her touch. Sometimes I would feel a comforting hand on my back or shoulder. Aurora would grace me with a hug when she felt I needed it. But here¡­ it wasn¡¯t so much me that needed the tactile sensation, I understood. With the true purity of our bond and the formless weaves of intent that threaded between us at this fundamental level, I could tell.


    She did it for herself, here. While in all other times the ghostly phoenix supported me, the simple act of ruffling my hair and holding me within our souls centered something deep inside of her spirit.


    ¡°Okay, Aurora,¡± I said, finally ready. ¡°Here I go.¡±


    I dove deeper into my Phoenix Will, embracing the touch of Soulplume.


    And the change was immediate.


    My entire soul swelled. That wasn¡¯t truly what happened, but it was the closest word I could give the experience. As insight swam within my mind, the water all around me began to shift and change. No longer was it just the waters of my soul. Now, the fire that grew from the center was overwhelming it. Overriding it with sheer volume.


    I reasserted my being, and the sudden expansion of the Phoenix Will slowed. For the first time, the ever-tranquil trace of my soul changed. I wasn¡¯t reflectionless water anymore. Waves churned and roiled all about me, breathing fire and refracted light. The sheer injection of energy served to stretch me beyond what I was ready for.


    Waves crashed over me, the water somehow fire-yet-not. I was left unaffected¨Cthis was but a projection¨Cbut I understood deeply what was happening¨Cand I finally knew precisely what an asuran Will was.


    Its intent meshed through me. The desire to learn and grow and observe. Even as my once-still Sea rocked and churned, expanding exponentially as knowledge was injected deep into its core, I finally understood.


    Without the need to consciously call for her, Aurora¡¯s soul edged closer to mine in the void. Or did mine grow closer to hers? It was difficult to tell with the sheer difference between us. Even as the growing expanse of Soulplume turned my tranquil spirit into a roiling storm, she was still a star.


    And as she grew closer¡ªas she always did to help me draw greater power from my Phoenix Will¡ªI began to burn. I felt it, felt it deep in my essence. The searing light scraped away at the roiling waters, leaving steam in its wake as my very spirit began to boil. Mist of what I was rose higher into the void, concepts and ideas and the foundational parts of my being becoming less than full.


    Memories, I thought distantly, trying desperately to understand and know as much as I could all at once. It was hard to comprehend everything with so much bombarding me at once. I was so much more than I had been a moment ago, but also so much less. The water is what I am. And it evaporates as she grows closer.


    But I needed to learn. Needed to take this insight back into myself. Needed to¨C


    Then came the pain. The searing, burning, overwhelming pain. Of my very soul scouring away. I watched the water that contained my memories of Naereni and Sevren as they simmered and boiled, drifting out toward the void. The life-giving motes of water that were my love of books and care for the dwarves were next, overwhelmed by the tide of energy.


    But pain wasn¡¯t even the right word to describe it, because pain was a physical thing. Pain was the sensation of nerves firing signals to the brain in electrical waves, indicating something was wrong. But this¡­ this was void. The burning, then sudden absence as it drifted away. The sensation that there should be more, but the ache of nonexistence in the face of it.


    And suddenly, Aurora¡¯s soul blurred, drifting away from mine at speed as sheer and utter panic-horror-guilt-worry-fear washed over me over our bond.


    It sobered me instantly, and I achingly reasserted control.


    The roiling tempest of fire-water gradually stilled as I pulled my Phoenix Will away from the edges of my soul. Where we were once a collage of intent and insight, now we were separate again, the birdlike form of the Will drawing itself from the surface of the Sea.


    I collapsed onto the water, noting how fast the churning expanse had become serene once more. Despite this, however, I didn¡¯t feel that normal peace. I stared out into the sky-void, my gaze hazy as I stared at the gathering clouds above.


    ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora¡¯s voice shouted, thundering in every manner possible as her shade rushed for me. She grabbed my limp form, holding me tight with trembling arms as her eyes roamed over me. ¡°Oh, by my father, no. Please. I didn¡¯t want to¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to¨C¡±


    I felt a weak smile stretch over my face as I brushed an arm against my bond¡¯s trembling shade, noting her panicked tears. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Mom,¡± I said weakly, before pointing up at the sky. I knew what she was worried about. What she feared she had done to me. ¡°The rain is coming.¡±


    And then those clouds of condensed soul-essence finally began to weep their tears. The pitter-patter of each drop in my soul reminded me of something I had forgotten. The way Naereni¡¯s fingers always twitched when she wanted to grab something. Sevren¡¯s passion for artificing and creation. How the page of a book felt beneath my fingertips.


    Souls were strange. The way they pushed and pulled on each other and themselves, greedily demanding memories and knowledge.


    I breathed out as I gradually became whole once more, the rains washing away the scalding heat of my bond¡¯s soul. Aurora watched with an expression that told me of her deepest fears and horrors as all paradoxically returned to what it once was, the silence of the endless expanse marking it all.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Aurora,¡± I said after a moment, my bond still holding me as if I would simply melt into the water beneath me. ¡°We both expected this. Or something like it.¡± sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My bond swallowed, turning away as guilt wracked her features. Her soul. ¡°I know.¡±


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She didn¡¯t need to say any more. As close as our souls were, I understood what she feared.


    Agrona¡¯s cruel malice in tearing apart my mother¡¯s thoughts was at the forefront of her guilt. Of that gaping, awful wound in her mind that let Agrona know the face of Chul, but not she.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the same, Aurora,¡± I said quietly, putting voice to the intent already radiating over our bond. ¡°He did it to hurt and scald. But we¡¯re working to understand something together. I knew the risks involved at the start.¡±


    Aurora didn¡¯t respond, staring back at the vast expanse of her soul far beyond. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be your mother, Toren,¡± she said at last. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to know the path forward, so that you may tread a better one. But I know nothing of this path you take, and every touch of mine risks scalding instead of warming. You travel it alone.¡±


    I contemplated this for a moment, before sitting up and staring at the shade of my bond. I waited there silently. Because there was more to this feeling of hers. More to this grief that she had yet to share, but wished to on some level.


    ¡°You¡¯re growing so fast, Toren,¡± she finally said, staring down at the now-tranquil sea. ¡°Growing faster than I can help you. Already you have found a nest-mate close to your soul, and now you seek to spread your wings with the teachings of others around you. I have hardly had the time to keep you in my nest, yet it feels as if you are already straining to fly.¡±


    My inner world was silent as these thoughts coursed through me¡ªand I found I did not know how to respond. I sat there quietly in the wake of this revelation, trying to find the right thing to say. To convey with my soul.


    Before I could do so, however, Aurora shook her head, her feather-red hair swaying. ¡°It is not my duty to burden you with such worries, Toren,¡± she said after a moment, retreating slightly from our bond. ¡°Think nothing of what I said. It is inconsequential.¡±


    ¡°No, Aurora,¡± I responded, shifting closer on the tranquil waters. ¡°This is something that¡¯s eating at you. We should talk about it. Our bond isn¡¯t just a one-way thing. That¡¯s not how souls work.¡±


    But then the shade of the phoenix looked up at me. ¡°Please, Toren,¡± she pleaded in a way that made me hesitate. ¡°Not right now. Not so close to the Hearth. Just¡­ tell me what you have discovered in this trial. I do not wish to linger on unhallowed thoughts.¡±


    I clenched my fist at my side, feeling strangely helpless. I should be able to help her. Be able to address these fears of hers that she kept locked up deep in her soul. That was my job as Spellsong, wasn¡¯t it? To give hope and joy?


    But there was one thing I¡¯d known for a long time about souls that only became more and more apparent. Within the depths of each, there was a push and a pull. A gravity that drew souls together and thrust them apart. And it was a universal thing across all worlds that pushing too much would only break things.


    ¡°My Phoenix Will is a remnant of a soul,¡± I said after a moment-turned-distant. ¡°I suspect that¡¯s what all Beast Wills are. Slivers of souls imbued to grow and collect more insight. That¡¯s why I can mesh with it at all. But this sliver has grown far, far more than what a normal soul should be, I think.¡±


    Aurora tilted her head, her attention finally drifting away from her darker thoughts. ¡°What do you mean, Toren?¡± she asked, sitting leisurely across from me.


    ¡°I can barely contain all the insight I receive in my Second Phase,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°And I know that that is still barely scratching the surface. It threatens to tear me apart from within if I am not careful. I suspect that if I were to use my Third Phase¡ªto its truest, greatest extent¡ªI would eventually just¡­ pop.¡±


    I could imagine it, too. Referencing what I knew from The Beginning After the End and what I had seen personally, Arthur was lucky that his body gave way before his soul. I wondered if some bare remnant of Sylvia within had limited the power granted, or maybe some unseen hand of Fate pulled the strings.


    But that wasn¡¯t all. As I let my eyes drift to the far edges of my soul, I recognized that it had changed. By absorbing the insight held within Aurora¡¯s Will, I expanded the boundaries of my spirit. I hardened them and prepared them for more knowledge, like muscle training to grow stronger.


    I rolled my metaphysical shoulders. ¡°But we can talk about this more outside,¡± I said, feeling my grip on the Sea of my Soul shifting slightly. ¡°It¡¯s getting harder to maintain this state.¡±


    Aurora nodded slowly, her thoughts awhirl as she acknowledged the need. It was easiest to enter the Sea of the Soul when I was the most tired¡ªright before bed, or right after waking up. I suspected the soul was less bound to the body during rest, but I couldn¡¯t be sure just yet.


    I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I found myself lounging on a sideways-thrusting trunk of a rust-colored jungle tree, a few vines drifting nearby.


    Except it wasn¡¯t really a tree¨Cmore like a hundred snaking roots thick enough to be called trunks. The light was low where I lounged despite the rising sun, and the air was cool and humid.


    I was in a wide ravine deep in the Beast Glades¨Cbut it wasn¡¯t a normal ravine. The walls were coated in stretching plants that crisscrossed the space, creating a tapestry of browns, reds, and greens as I sat high above the bottom of the chasm. The entire place was incredibly noisy to all of my senses. The chirping of insects, croaking of mana beasts, and grumbles of things far deeper in the darkness.


    It had been a couple of weeks since I¡¯d first set out for the Hearth, and the going had been slow. Working with Aurora, I¡¯d intentionally been taking roundabout and seemingly random paths forward, the fear of discovery or being tracked by Viessa Vritra always present in the back of my mind. That had slowed progress immensely, however, as I intentionally went along more dangerous routes and put myself through deadly peril.


    I¡¯d used the time wisely, though. Seris¡¯ recommendations and hints on how I could craft the puzzle of my abilities into a cohesive style had begun bearing fruit.


    I slowly stood, stretching out my aching body. As I did every morning, I took stock of myself. Hair all in one piece? Check. All my fingers and toes where they should be? Check. Dimension ring with literally everything I owned? Check.


    I sighed as I sifted through the aforementioned dimension ring, listening to the sounds of the not-forest around me. The twisting patterns of roots connecting across the ravine looked like the world¡¯s strangest spiderweb, and part of me worried that I¡¯d suddenly find myself face-to-face with a massive arachnid.


    As I sifted around in my ring, I noticed a few items that I hadn¡¯t had the time to tend to in a while. The glimmering white pelt of the four-armed frost yeti from the Relictombs stood out to me, alongside the contrasting darkness of the Echo Vespertion¡¯s black hide. I¡¯d promised myself that I¡¯d eventually make some sort of cloak or mantle of the two, but I¡¯d never found the time.


    Instead, I withdrew my journal. It had started as notes on The Beginning After the End, but had slowly evolved into a way of keeping my thoughts and plans centered throughout the time I¡¯d been in this world.


    As I leaned back against the bark of my perch ready to write about my recent experience, however, I had a thought.


    I¡¯ve been in this world for over a year, I realized, blinking in surprise. Easily.


    ¡°And with luck, you shall stay here for many more,¡± my bond said as her shade shimmered into existence nearby.


    I smiled slightly as I began to scribble in my worn and faded journal. I was going to run out of pages soon. Here¡¯s hoping, I thought back to her. But as I wrote down my observations in the Sea of the Soul, a thought occurred to me.


    Aurora, I thought, feeling a slight breeze drift through the canyon. How should I expect the phoenixes of the Hearth to treat me? I mean, I¡¯m basically a stranger to them.


    Internally, I worried how the phoenixes of my adopted family would react to the anomaly that was me. Was I family to them? Or would they view me with disdain, as most asura would? As Aurora had for a time upon our first meeting?


    I¡¯d been having doubts as I gradually trekked deeper and deeper into the Beast Glades under my bond¡¯s direction. I¡¯d never really allowed myself to think about it before. I¡¯d never been married in my previous life, but I wondered if this was what it was like to meet the in-laws.


    Except the in-laws were functionally deities, most of which usually had a discrimination complex and reacted poorly to change.


    I knew the phoenixes of the Hearth were different from most asura, but part of me still worried about being accepted.


    My bond tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she thought. ¡°I have no doubt in my mind that my brother¡ªand your brother¡ªwill accept you for who you are, Toren,¡± she said soothingly. And that did brighten my mood somewhat, but¡­


    Aurora, I thought to her as I finally scratched out the last of my observations on the soul, that¡¯s leaving out, like, ninety-nine percent of your clan, I pointed out, feeling my anxiety grow a bit at my bond¡¯s roundabout words.


    Lady Dawn sighed, setting her shade down on the branch. ¡°I understand your worries, Toren,¡± she finally said. ¡°I admit that¡­ I bear them too. Or at least similar fears.¡±


    Then should I prepare to be called ¡®lesser¡¯ a lot? I replied sardonically, feeling a bit miffed.


    ¡°That is not my worry, Toren,¡± Aurora replied sourly. ¡°You are Willbearer of our Clan, now. That has meaning that you may not comprehend yet in full. But in asuran tradition, it is the Willbearer who is elected as the leader of the clan and is tasked with choosing their direction. My brother was already one to break tradition in passing his Will to me while maintaining leadership of our clan, but precedent ignored once does not negate its existence.¡±


    I frowned, absently keeping my senses alert for mana beasts and predators within the darkness of the ravine as I oriented on my bond. So you¡¯re saying that¡­ what, I¡¯ll be some sort of contender with Mordain for power over the clan?


    The phoenix shade slowly shook her head. ¡°You shall represent a force of power in the clan, Toren, but not in the way you suspect,¡± she said cryptically. ¡°As I said, my brother was something of a tradition-breaker, and that includes how he leads. But in a very real way, Toren, you represent the Will of the Asclepius Clan itself.¡±


    The Will of the entire clan? I asked, surprised. But isn¡¯t the Phoenix Will just a compounding of the direct line between you and Mordain?


    Aurora¡¯s hair¡ªwhich was blowing in an Unseen breeze¡ªstilled. ¡°No, my son,¡± she said softly, speaking as if she were teaching an important lesson. ¡°The greatest clans in Epheotus practice the tradition of Willforging¡ªwhere the collective insight of each dying asura is passed to a singular being: the Willbearer. As the Willbearer naturally holds the Will with the most compounded insight, theirs swallows and draws the dying asura¡¯s into itself, compounding even further. The cycle continues ad infinitum for millennia upon millennia, concentrating unfathomable power into a single sliver of a soul.¡±


    My eyes grew progressively wider as Aurora spoke, the implications making my blood run paradoxically cold and hot. ¡°Then what you¡¯re saying,¡± I whispered, shocked, ¡°is that the Asclepius Will has slivers of every phoenix soul that has ever graced the clan inside it?¡±


    Aurora nodded slowly. ¡°This is the basis for leadership among the greatest of clans,¡± she said somberly. ¡°But you must look at our arrival in our Hearth from a broader perspective, Toren. You, who bear the collective weight of a hundred generations of the Asclepius, will arrive to speak with asura who have never known you. They will not look upon you with prejudice, as you worry. No¡­ they may look upon you with fear, Toren.¡±


    Fear¡­ Why fear? I asked, feeling numb.


    Aurora was silent for a time, falling deeper into her thoughts. ¡°When you see,¡± she finally said, ¡°you will understand. That is your gift. I have told you of the Forum that we must call when we reach our home. You will know then.¡±


    I swallowed slightly, feeling unnerved from the conversation. With a flourish, I withdrew my notebook back into the dimension ring on my left hand. I moved my limbs as the Unseen World misted away.


    Indeed, Aurora had told me of the Forum. An old tradition taken and altered from the djinn, but it was an all-or-nothing gamble.


    My mother and I didn¡¯t have the time to slowly convince and talk to the Hearth. We worked on a lesser¡¯s timescale, not an asuran one. One of days, weeks, and months, not centuries. The war with Dicathen would be ending soon, and I could foresee no other time when we would have a chance to directly assure intervention from the phoenixes.


    I felt the anxiety building in my stomach, twisting and churning it with questions I could not answer. But as I attuned my ears to the reddish root canopy around me, listening for worthy prey, I knew the best way to relieve my stress.


    Through a hunt.

 Chapter 256: Siphon

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    The Asclepius Clan touted themselves as the greatest hunters in all of Epheotus. While I had not met them yet, there was a way I could know them better.


    I shifted on my root-branch, clenching and unclenching my fists as I called on my mana. My regalia burned with warmth as I focused on my newest technique.


    When Seris and I had sparred, she¡¯d asked me what I could do to address my lacking senses. Here, I had her answer.


    Sound magic built over my heart as the resounding beat came slow and steady in my mind. I listened to that rhythm, attuned myself to it. And then I released my spell.


    A subtle wave of sound magic¡ªinaudible to normal ears and shivering at a frequency so as to be nearly undetectable¡ªradiated outward from me in an omnidirectional wave. I could just barely hear it, even with my advanced hearing.


    The sound mana traveled over everything around me, bouncing off the stone walls and rippling through the reddish roots. And as it did so, it rebounded back to me.


    An image slowly formed in my mind. A shaky, blurry image, but an image nonetheless. The spell I¡¯d just used¡ªtitled Sonar Pulse¡ªwas designed after the echolocation abilities of the Echo Vespertion I¡¯d slain so long ago. It fed a model of the world around me in three dimensions directly into my brain.


    I tilted my head, internally overlaying the model filtering through my brain with what I physically saw, the intent of the many mana beasts hiding amidst the brush, and the heartfire of every living thing.


    The world is so much more alive than the eyes alone can see, I thought, giving myself a minute to hone the technique. For all that I envied Arthur his ability to see the mana in the world, I¡¯d wager the image in my head is just as comprehensive.


    Seventeen mana beasts in my immediate range, I thought, focusing on the mental image Sonar Pulse returned. Most are A-class. A few AA-class beasts. And one¡­


    There was one I got a fuzzy outline of¡ªand the quiet intent of all other beasts radiated quiet fear of it. From what I could sense, it was barely S class, and it was slowly moving closer and closer through the ravine. Every beast it swung by ducked and hid, even those that I suspected would be a worthy battle.


    The first rule of a hunt, my son, Aurora¡¯s voice feathered across my ear. When all other monsters fear one, you must cultivate a controlled fear yourself. There is a reason.


    I nodded slowly as I decided on my quarry. The approaching creature bounded along the roots in a strange, erratic manner, darting to and fro in no discernible pattern. I rolled my shoulders, mentally preparing myself for a battle.


    Then I leapt, pulling in my presence as I bounded with casual ease from reddish branch to reddish branch, moving closer and closer to my quarry. I was hyper-aware of how many mana beasts there were around me, the trifold relay of Sonar Flow and my other senses telling me how everything else shied away from the approaching monster.


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to close in on the creature. I could swing and maneuver through the tangled webs of roots with an ease that I suspected was greater than even the native beasts. I narrowed my eyes as I clung to the cliffside, my hand sinking deep into some sort of moss as my telekinetic pulls kept me anchored.


    And I saw it: the creature all the other mana beasts were desperately avoiding. It stumbled along a far-away root, lurching this way and that as if something inside of its mind were broken. It was a pale, creamy color, and appeared to be made entirely out of some sort of plant matter. It had no discernable facial features that I could see, though it appeared vaguely bipedal.


    Aurora, I thought to my bond as I watched the thing nearly stumble and fall from its branch, do you know what it is?


    From my mana sense, it could tell that it would be barely within the acceptable range of S-class. But the way it stumbled about on blocky, puffy legs of whitish plant matter made me doubt its abilities.


    ¡°I do not recognize this creature,¡± Aurora¡¯s shade whispered into my ear. ¡°But do not let your guard down because it presents a foolish appearance.¡±


    I nodded slowly in agreement. Yeah, I know, I thought, observing the creature from above as a hunter spies their prey. Thank you, though. It doesn¡¯t hurt to keep being reminded.


    As I focused more mana into my eyes, I realized I had to change my original description of it. It wasn¡¯t plant matter that it was composed of. It looked more like some kind of mushroom was vaguely molded like clay into a human shape. Its heartfire sounded strange to my ears, too. As if it were thin, like dripping sap rather than a steady heartbeat.


    The thing jerked to a halt, going still as a grave. Then its head snapped up to me.


    I suppressed a sneer of disgust as I looked at the thing¡¯s face. It had no eyes. No mouth. No nose. Just a featureless, blank canvas. But I knew without a doubt that it had somehow sensed me.


    It lunged from its branch, the rust-colored root splintering beneath it as its legs expanded unnaturally, warping in such a way to give it more strength. It swung its arm halfway through its lunge, aiming to gore me with a hundred expanding tendrils of mycelium.


    I have to reprise my statement, I thought calmly, summoning a shrouded saber. I imbued it with a helpful dose of sound magic, causing it to hum and vibrate like a plucked guitar string. This thing does have the ability to be S-class.


    I maneuvered slightly to the side, noting the creature¡¯s errant trajectory. As it sailed harmlessly past me, I casually swung my crystalline blade. It bisected the creature three times, the spongy material parting with absurd ease beneath the vibrating power of my sound magic.


    I hovered out of the way as five chunks of pale mushroom fell to the cavern floor far below, bouncing along each and every root on the way down. Internally, I felt a bit of annoyance at how simply this hunt had ended. The pent-up emotions I¡¯d been carrying hadn¡¯t had a chance to be vented in the slightest.


    I sighed as I let myself fall, tracing the falling mushroom parts of the fallen monster. I wouldn¡¯t let this thing¡¯s body go to waste, and I¡¯d have to cook it for¨C


    My eyes widened as I noticed a discrepancy in the heartfire of the beast. Where normally a creature¡¯s heartfire evaporated on death, misting away into currents of aether, this monster¡¯s didn¡¯t.


    My eyes tracked the falling chunks of mushroom, hearing as one chorus of strange sap turned into five.


    It¡¯s not dead, I realized, slowing in my descent as I weaved around roots. No, it¡¯s far from it.


    And then the change occurred. The chunks clung to nearby roots as they fell, and I sensed as it drained


    the lifeforce from the roots like parasites. The roots blackened and died as each chunk reformed larger than before, five in total.


    One thrust its hands into the cavern wall, anchoring itself there before glaring up at me with a faceless maw. Another thunked against a root, before scrabbling for purchase. Another continued to fall, bumping against roots aimlessly. One of the creatures actually managed to land on an outcropping of stone, while the final identical mushroom beast tried to grab a vine.


    The vine, however, wasn¡¯t equipped to handle this sudden weight. It snapped, sending the eerily silent creature into the chasm below with its brother.


    They stared up at me, their intent laser-focused. It wasn¡¯t the focus of intelligence, not really. It was like a machine was analyzing me. Picking me apart for my secrets.


    We hung there for a moment as I cataloged what had just happened, my brow furrowing as I called on my magic.


    Then they lunged at me. In the same, easily predictable pattern as before, three monsters used the walls, roots, and vines around me to jump in an unerring line as they prepared to tear out my throat.


    I grit my teeth, easily avoiding each attack. An elongating swipe of mycelium claws sailed over head as I contorted, while the rabid lunge of another barely missed the hems of my robes. I used a gentle push with my boot to maneuver the last attacker out of the way, feeling the air on my cheek.


    And then they hurtled back toward the walls. In that split instant, I allowed myself to think. I can¡¯t cut them, I thought, my hands ghosting for the sensation of a shrouded saber. If I cut them, they might just duplicate again, then use the trees nearby to regenerate. That means I need to stop whatever is allowing them to duplicate.


    A fourth creature finally surged for me, jumping up from below and wrapping my legs in its crushing grip. My telekinetic shroud creaked as its mushroom-like arms seemed to grow over my legs, stretching higher and higher as the thing looked up at me silently.


    Perfect, I thought, feeling a grin on my face, even as the thing tried to consume me alive. I focused on a different spell, feeling the ambient fire mana tremble.


    Scorching orange flames burst from me in an unending wave. As the heat washed over the beast clasping my leg, the pale mycelium blackened and burned, sizzling away as it became less than ash.


    The creature screamed as flames raced along its body, a mouth opening from nowhere as it tried to detach. Thin strands of plant matter connected the ¡®lips,¡¯ creating a grotesque effect that looked a bit like melted cheese.


    Burn, monster, I thought, my eyes flashing as I felt a bit of vindictive pleasure.


    Then it exhaled a cloud of greenish spores from its blackening body. I felt the strange heartfire in its body misting through those spores as they blurred toward my nose and mouth.


    Absolutely not.


    I conjured a shrouded saber in a flash, imbuing it with a coating of fire. I swung it deftly, unleashing a wave of flames that battled against the spores, before burning them all away.


    I felt as the heartfire of the monster finally died, its body drifting away in ash. Its blackened motes fell away into the cavern below.


    I frowned as I turned to look at the three other mushroom creatures. Their intent didn¡¯t display any sort of anger or fear as they watched me, only grim calculation.


    ¡°This is why all the monsters avoid this creature,¡± Aurora conveyed to me over our bond, ¡°it duplicates and spreads like a virus¨Cand though you allowed none of those spores to touch you, I am certain you can guess their effects.¡±


    It spreads the infection, I thought, calling on my mana.


    Then I engaged another one of the techniques I¡¯d been working on.


    While I bore the blood of the Asclepius in my veins, I was not an asura. I could not take on a pure mana form like those of purest blood, shifting into great birds of titanic size and power.


    But there was something in my very soul that gave me wings; that made each shrouded feather that stretched from my back feel right. I just needed to hone in on that sense for my blood.


    Thin veins of heartfire pressed up and around and through my body as my form seemed to expand slightly. Like coursing arteries delivering vital nutrients, the structured strata of orange-purple energy followed ghostly passages that should be present, that were intrinsic parts of my blood, even if I could not directly transform.


    And overtop of this, a telekinetic shroud that sizzled with protective fire layered itself like feathers. Armor that glistened like crystal and shone with the physique of a phoenix¡¯s skin slowly pressed outward. A ghost of a man¡ªboth different and the same¡ªsuperimposed itself across my body. Stylized wings grew from above the avatar¡¯s ears out of crystalline mana, rising up like tailfeathers kissing the breeze.


    This Shrouded Spirit was a blood-borne extension of my normal telekinetic shroud, my new knowledge of my regalia, and the insights I¡¯d gained that allowed me my wings. The light that encompassed me now was strangely detailed, and it was hard to tell if it mirrored armor or flesh.


    My telekinetic shroud had always enhanced my strength and speed, adding multiplicative weight behind each of my attacks. But now, that effect multiplied on itself again as my heart strained ever-so-slightly underneath the burden of reflective feathers.


    It had only taken me a split second to conjure a shrouded spirit about myself, but in that time the creatures seemed to come to some sort of ¡®decision.¡¯ They moved toward each other in their jerky, uncoordinated way.


    The three remaining monsters charged for each other, something strange in their heartfires resonating. Lurching back for a whole.


    My eyes widened as I sensed what they were about to do, uncountable hours of combat and battle practice telling me precisely what was going to happen as the three meshes of sap-like lifeforce gradually began to resonate.


    I blurred forward, conjuring a shrouded hammer as I prepared to stop the creatures from merging back together.


    Unfortunately, life had other plans. The fifth creature struck me from the side, tackling me out of the air and slamming us into a cluster of nearby vines. My shrouded armor cracked from the impact as my limbs were tangled in a mishmash of roots and twisting plants, the wood resisting my coating of fire surprisingly well.


    I snarled in anger, increasing my output of fire in response as I was suddenly trapped. But it wasn¡¯t enough. The pale creature grew and grew as my fire ate away at it, using the nearby tree to regenerate at a breakneck pace. As fast as I could burn it with my fire, it surged, trying to bury me in a coffin of white mycelium. The sensation of its squirming, twisting tendrils as they coated the entire area around me like a blanket sent nausea roiling through my gut.


    If fire won¡¯t burn you fast enough, I thought angrily, feeling my heartbeat increase, then let¡¯s see how you like it when I do the same to you.


    I called on my lifeforce, coating my hands in refracting dawnlight even as the strange creature sought to blot out the sun. My shrouded armor resonated, talons sharpening from my fingers. Then I thrust them forward, sinking my fingers into the putty-like creature¡¯s soft body.


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    I felt my heartfire mesh with its own. And then I heaved.


    The monster shuddered, then began to squirm as I siphoned its lifeforce from its very body. It shrank inward, dehydrating at a rapid pace. It tried weakly to absorb more energy from the nearby roots, but my fire burned hotter now, erasing the plants while simultaneously charring any mycelium that got too close.


    Normally, it was difficult to directly take another creature¡¯s lifeforce as I did now. If I wanted to dominate their energy, it was more efficient to weaken them first, before targeting their hearts where all heartfire flowed through.


    It was even harder to grasp this thing¡¯s soultether. There weren¡¯t veins to follow. There weren¡¯t clearly defined pathways and arteries that made it easy to intercept. The entire thing didn¡¯t even really have a circulatory system or a nexus like a heart.


    I came here to learn and grow, I thought angrily as I felt the energy coursing through my blood, making the world feel more alive and aware. My muscles felt stronger, my will more sure. My heartfire¡ªwhich had been depleting from the strain of maintaining my armor¡ªfinally found equilibrium once more. And I¡¯m going to use your corpse to do it. As many corpses of you as I can!


    I engaged my Acquire Phase on instinct as something barreled toward me, barely perceptible outside the rush of energy. I managed to get my arms in front of my face as they were finally freed from their bindings, bracing for impact as I flooded mana through my channels.


    And then it finally came. With my enhanced perception while under the effects of my Phoenix Will, I could sense the slurry of lifeforce within the massive mycelium monster¡¯s limb as it slammed into my arms, cracking my telekinetic shroud. The fire coating my shrouded armor was blown out from the sheer force traveling in the wake of the monster¡¯s blow.


    I saw a flash of a gaping maw, felt the strangely mechanical intent. And then I blurred away from the impact.


    I smashed back-first into the cavern wall, a crater the size of a house opening behind me. I felt something in my back break despite my armor, but the excess lifeforce I¡¯d stolen from the earlier mycelium monster quickly rushed at my command, sealing over the damage before I even had a chance to feel it.


    I sensed the next attack coming. I rolled to the side, conjuring shrouded feathers in my hands as I dipped and weaved around nearby branches, before throwing them like telekinetically accelerated darts at my foe.


    The massive beast¡ªfully formed now from the three earlier creatures¡ªslammed with a jerking halt into where I¡¯d just been a moment before. My feathers of fire thunked into its body, before exploding in a nimbus of charring heat.


    The creature didn¡¯t care. It leapt for me, its body blackened and singed as it tried to grasp me in puffy hands. Unwilling to play that game, I surged upward, deftly avoiding the attack as instincts honed through my Phoenix Will guided me away.


    I watched the beast from high above like an asura gazing down on an ant, noting the changes in its movements. Before, the individual creatures had been jerky and unrefined. But now, they seemed more¡­ purposeful. Intentional.


    It looked up at me with its faceless expression. The beast was easily twenty feet tall, towering over me severalfold. It looked somehow more monstrous than the creature it had once been.


    It reached an arm out to the side. I watched with keen interest as its tendrils of mushroom-like appendage burrowed into the nearby roots. The thing didn¡¯t take its ¡®eyes¡¯ off me as it gradually absorbed nutrients and sustenance from the vine, using them to rejuvenate its stores of lifeforce and grow just a bit larger.


    Aurora emitted a wave of increasing worry as she put together what this creature was doing. It was using me. Using me to grow, to learn, to change.


    But that was fine. Because part of the reason I¡¯d entered these Beast Glades in the first place was to improve my skills. To truly push the limits of what I could do. And for once, I had prey that wouldn¡¯t break the moment I sank my saber into its stomach.


    I used my telekinetic regalia, grabbing as much debris as I could from around me that wouldn¡¯t simply strengthen the monster. A hundred shards of smashed rock from my earlier crater slowly floated around me, each bit of shrapnel under my precise control. A shrouded saber grew in my hands, burning with red plasma. The light glinted off my crystalline armor.


    Let¡¯s put this puzzle of my style together, shall we? I thought, my eyes tracing the murky, indistinct flow of the monster¡¯s lifeforce. The entire chasm felt unnaturally still and silent as we faced off with each other. I¡¯m going to use you, just as you¡¯re using me.


    I shot forward, a grin on my face as my aura expanded. Focusing on my magic, I sent a storm of rocks at the creature with a wave of telekinetic force. The creature lurched backward as the storm of stone peppered its body like shrapnel, suddenly off balance from the tiny strikes. In an effort to make some sort of defense, the monstrous beast swung its hand, its fist enlarging as the spongy material swelled.


    My shrouded saber easily bisected the hand with the sound of sizzling flesh. The limb¨Cnearly as large as I was¨Cbegan to fall, the lifeforce within squirming and twisting as it began to regrow.


    Not willing to let that happen, I lashed out with my regalia, grabbing the arm in a flare of psychokinetic white.


    At the same time, I finally closed the distance with the massive monster. It reacted slowly as my saber shifted to a hammer, before I drove it across its head.


    My plasma phased through the head as if it wasn¡¯t even there, burning it to less than ash. Without a second to waste, I planted my feet on the massive monster¡¯s abdomen, allowing fire and telekinetic force to build up along the soles of my shoes.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be better than this, beast,¡± I sneered, my blood hot in my veins.


    The thing seemed to sense what was about to happen. Its remaining arm latched onto my torso, trying in vain to crush my telekinetic armor. The crystal cracked and shuddered like diamond slowly breaking. Eventually, I felt my bones begin to creak and my organs bruise from the pulping force, but it wasn¡¯t enough. With a bare mental thought, shrouded wings grew from my back, flaring wide as they hummed with sound mana, before severing the limb as well in a sizzling twist.


    Then the fire and force erupted from my feet. The mindfire stamp blew a hole straight through the creature, but the force of the impact still sent it hurtling down to the chasm below. It smashed through half a dozen roots on its way down, smoking and sizzling.


    I lost sight of the monster as it reached the bottom of the ravine, but from my sense of heartfire, I knew it was far from dead. It didn¡¯t seem to feel any sort of pain from what I¡¯d done or reflect any real emotion in its intent.


    I grabbed the severed limb that was still trying to crush my torso¨CGod, did that hurt¨Cand sank lifeforce-coated talons into its putty-like flesh. I slowly drew on its heartfire as a man drinks cool springwater from a straw. Simultaneously, I brought the other arm closer to me with my telekinesis, before driving my saber into its fleshy form. Lifeforce flared brightly around my shrouded weapon, before I drank from that cool spring as well.


    My wounds healed over as the hand grasping my torso shrank in on itself, becoming weak and brittle as opposed to the spongy texture it had before. I exhaled a breath of steam as I worked my limbs, a beat of Sonar Pulse telling me precisely where the monster was far below me.


    I rolled my shoulders as I let the thing regenerate and grow just a bit more, letting myself think. The feathered pauldrons glimmered in the low light.


    I¡¯m starting to get an idea, I thought, of what this style of mine should be.


    The creature shot straight upward again, but this time, it had wings. Thin membranes of mycelium carried it upward as it surged for me, fully whole and now twenty-five feet tall.


    My eyes widened slightly at the sheer speed of it, a boom of sound trailing in its wake. I saw its fist coming, though, and maneuvered my hand to the side as I tried to use my plasma saber to cut it away once more.


    Except that punch never came. Out of the corner of my perception, I noticed as one of its massive wings¨Cfar too large for this chasm¨Cswung in from the side.


    It cracked against me with the force of a hurricane, sending me hurtling across the root-crossed cavern. A few of the roots tore bloody gashes across my body as I scraped across them.


    Finally, I managed to right myself in the air as I flapped my shrouded wings to stabilize myself. The crystalline wings covered me as I refocused on the fight.


    The creature was already blurring toward me at the speed of sound¨Cbut I could still react. In that microsecond of time, I sent half a dozen telekinetic feathers after the creature like glimmering fireflies, each imbued with a churning buildup of plasma. When they sank into the creature¡¯s fleshy hide, I smiled.


    Just before the creature reached me, fingers outstretched to spear through my eyes, the feathers detonated. An explosion rippled from each point of impact, sending waves of searing plasma through every inch of its body.


    A husk reached me, still speeding with the force of a train. I snapped my hand out, conjuring fire around my hands as I grasped it by the ¡®skull.¡¯ It halted abruptly in the air, its limbs limp as smoke rose off its near-corpse.


    Then my wings flashed half a hundred times, carving the body into uncountable pieces. A burst of fire from my hands burned it all away.


    There was nothing left of the creature in the silence. Nothing but¨C


    ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora shouted in my head, her voice reverberating through my skull. ¡°There are more! Do not let your guard down!¡±


    I shot forward, barely avoiding two identical creatures as they nearly cut me in two. My eyes widened as I stared at them, recognizing what had happened.


    The wings, I realized, the monster recognized that I was going to destroy it, so it detached its wings!


    Two new creatures¨Ceach as large as the last¨Cstared at me, their intent focused and dark. And for once, I felt the inklings of intelligence growing there.


    Not good.


    Okay, I thought as I made up my mind. Enough is enough. I need to end this now¨Cbut I need to find a way to stop that regeneration. To really ensure that it won¡¯t come back.


    This creature adapted quickly with each exchange in some way I didn¡¯t understand. But if it started to develop true intelligence, and actually used its abilities intelligently¡­


    I fell into Soulplume as the creatures rushed me, drawing on the depths of asuran insight I had at my command. Their blurring forms suddenly snapped back into focus, seeming to move at a snail¡¯s pace as my hair turned the color of fire and my eyes burned. Mana flowed through my veins with impossible purity, granting me a sense of awareness that felt divine.


    I thrust my hands out, each covered in feathered runes that seemed to overlay my shrouded armor. My unease and anxiety misted away as I called on my regalia.


    The monsters each hit a wall of solid force, rebounding off like ping-pong balls striking a windshield. I exhaled a breath, then waved my hand. A wave of white fire and force smashed into one of the mushroom monsters, blowing it to the side with a swell of singed flesh and paltry strength. When it reoriented, trying to strike at me again, I conjured a storm of white fire, sending it out to burn in waves forty feet tall.


    When the heat washed over it, there was nothing left.


    And the second monster? I didn¡¯t even allow it near me. I thrust my hands out, focusing on my spellform as I gritted my teeth. It stayed there, suspended in the air as I ran through what I had to do next.


    With my insight into lifeforce enhanced by my Second Phase, I could truly see the flow of heartfire as the energy¨Ctinted a strange greenish color¨Cseeped through the creature¡¯s body.


    I drifted forward, holding out my shrouded saber. It flared slightly as I imbued more lifeforce into it. I remembered how I¡¯d drawn and nurtured Sevren¡¯s heartfire as I connected his arm. My eyes narrowed in on a particular flow of heartfire in the creature¡¯s body.


    And if I could heal¡­ why couldn¡¯t I break as well?


    I raised my blade, the shrouded saber flashing with the color of a waxing dawn. The world seemed to hold its breath, and for an instant, I thought the beast before me might feel fear. It had grown some form of intelligence over the course of our battle. Was it aware enough to dread the swing of the reaper¡¯s scythe?


    Then I brought my blade down, severing the creature in two. And when my flare of lifeforce intersected that flow of energy, I could feel as my power burned and tore and sundered at its primordial root. Where my lifeforce blade cut, it left only destruction in its wake. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The creature screamed. It hadn¡¯t ever made any sort of sound before, but as I cut it in two, it bellowed a mournful, pained wail. I silenced it with a wave of sound magic, still holding it in place.


    My eyes drifted to the second half of the beast, watching. Waiting. I had acted on a hunch. An insight I¡¯d borne for a long time, but had suppressed deep in my soul.


    But it did not regenerate. It did not duplicate into a new creature, the ends of its heartfire veins burned and charred by my severing attack in a way that denied any sort of regrowth.


    Just like Seris said, I thought a bit sadly. A scalpel can be wielded just like any blade.


    I could cut people so that they would never heal.


    The creature continued to scream in abject pain, the ends of its metaphysical flow¡ªstill visible under the effects of soulplume¡ªsizzling with dawnlight mist that only I could see. Those wounds would never heal.


    I sighed, deep from the depths of my soul. Then I thrust my blade deep into the wretched mycelium, before beginning to pull.


    When I¡¯d first tried to drain one of these creatures, it had taken some real effort to exert my will over its soupy lifeforce and really dominate it. But it was unnaturally simple now, as my blade drove through its flesh. And the longer I did so? The easier it became. Strangely easy, in fact¨Cas if the lifeforce of the monster itself still held some sort of understanding of its abilities to drain and rejuvenate from damage. The more I drained, the more I incorporated deep into my pulsing heart, the greater my knowledge grew.


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to siphon all of its vital energy. I felt a grim sort of detachment as I did so, allowing the husk to mist away.


    How much of that is truly me gaining knowledge from siphoning their heartfire, I wondered grimly, And how much is it just because I¡¯m loosening my restraints?


    If I needed to do this again, I doubted I¡¯d even need to truly drive my blade through a foe. The mere exposure of my enemy¡¯s blood on my shrouded saber would be enough for me to tear away chunks of their vital fire.


    There were a few instances before this where I¡¯d siphoned my enemies¡¯ strength. Usually in a pit of dire need, or to help another. But even as I did so, there was a bit of reluctance holding me back. Not so much, now. And as I allowed that side of myself to become more prevalent, I realized that this was only the beginning. Only the start of what I could eventually do with my heartfire.


    And finally, the creature became a withered husk as I drained all of its heartfire away. A bare flex of my mana engulfed its second half in white fire before that too became ash.


    As I let Soulplume fall away from the forefront of my mind, I felt a strange sort of melancholy. It was nice to have ideals of healing and helping, but that couldn¡¯t always be the case.


    I felt Aurora¡¯s comforting hand on my shoulder, helping me feel a bit better in the silence of the chasm.


    As grim as it was, I was starting to put together the pieces of what my personal fighting style would be.


    ¡°I suppose it''s natural,¡± I said wistfully, noting how all the nearby mana beasts had shied far away, ¡°that predators hunt prey.¡±


    Windsom Indrath


    The corpse of the Wraith was limp in my arms as I stared down at the ravine from miles above, careful not to focus too intently on the sole area where the target of my attention lounged. Though the clouds masked my physical presence, I knew it was not infallible.


    A troublesome phoenix, I thought with a slight upturn of my lips. Her senses are sharp. Far, far too sharp.


    The lessuran wretch in my hand¡ªor what was left of the thing trailing Toren Daen¡ªdidn¡¯t seem to understand this, dim-witted as it was. Its ability to mask its presence was exceptional, especially for one of the basilisk¡¯s blood, but it could not hide from me.


    I hefted the corpse, inspecting its empty eyes and shattered horns. Once, it had been female and covered in shadows. The dark hair of the lessuran had spiraled up to wrap around its horns strangely, but now there was little remaining of the skull at all.


    A petty thing to face a dragon of the Indrath Clan.


    The Wraith had begun to inch too close to our mutual target. At first, I had restrained myself from wiping its filth from the face of the continent, aware of the possibility that it might alert the one we both followed. But the Wraith clearly didn¡¯t know the stories of Aurora Asclepius and her power, else it wouldn¡¯t have risked getting so close.


    I snorted in distaste. Besides, if this Wraith found Toren Daen, the phoenix lessuran would have emerged victorious in any battle they held, I thought. Typical of the Vritra to overestimate themselves. And if this Wraith is part of a battlegroup, then the other four are not present.


    But that was beside the point. It appeared that Agrona Vritra placed as much interest in the one called ¡°Spellsong¡± as Lord Indrath, for there could be no other reason he placed a spy to follow the mage.


    I¡¯d been deployed a week ago by my lord to observe Toren Daen and confirm General Aldir¡¯s initial report, as well as to gather as much information as I could. As such, I almost could not believe the fortune bestowed upon me as the lessuran set off to the east, tracking through the Beast Glades in a seemingly erratic pattern.


    But I had quickly deduced the true meaning of such movements. Without a doubt, the lesser was being guided by the ghost of Lady Dawn to the resting place of the Asclepius Clan. If I wished to deduce the location of the phoenixes¡¯ cowardly nest, then I need only follow from afar.


    But the presence of the half-blood corpse in my grip complicated things.


    My eyes darted down to the lesser I¡¯d been tasked with investigating, ensuring I did not focus too greatly. In truth, I had learned all that had been tasked of me, and much more as well.


    But the introduction of Wraiths to the warfront spelled a greater change. Agrona Vritra had always been cautious with his use of the half-blood warriors, reserving them only to deter the forces of our warriors.


    But if he is deploying them now, I thought, then I must inform my lord immediately.


    I ground my teeth in quiet anger as I contemplated my options. Continue tracing Toren Daen to the traitors¡¯ den, or inform Lord Indrath?


    I sighed. Too long had I been envoy to the lessers, ensuring they grew upon predetermined paths. In the end, there was one duty that preceded all others. ¡°Lessers and their irritating tendencies,¡± I said with distaste, making up my mind.

 Chapter 257: The First Strike

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    I waited at the edge of the sound barrier, my eyes tracing the currents of dark green mana as they enshrouded the hidden camp. Behind me, a hundred and thirteen elves and men all waited silently, anxious for my command. The moon barely shone overhead in the pitch darkness of the night.


    One of the many Alacryan camps of the Beast Glades waited before me, shrouded to most. But between Lance Phantasm¡¯s reconnaissance, the knowledge of the Trailblazer Division, and the information Tess had drawn from Mawar, it was only a matter of time before we started finding the hives of these parasites. This was one of the largest camps we¡¯d found, easily housing hundreds of Alacryans and beasts alike.


    I had debriefed all of my soldiers on the plan before this, but I could taste the uncertainty they held as they lounged in the nearby trees and foliage, tense as bowstrings. It was a familiar thing, one I¡¯d experienced long ago in another world. When I first became King Grey, my troops were hesitant to follow me. Deep in their souls they didn¡¯t know me, couldn¡¯t trust my authority.


    Until I showed them the strength of my sword; the sharpness of my mind.


    Once upon a time, I had spoken to Dicathen of what it took to foster loyalty among the citizens. But to foster loyalty in soldiers was a different matter.


    I needed to show them that I was worthy of their support.


    Sylv, I thought over my mental tether as I waited leisurely by a tree, how goes your end?


    It took a minute for a reply to come. ¡°It¡¯s all ready, Arthur,¡± she replied, her voice tense and emotions wired like the strings of an instrument. ¡°But¡­¡±


    I shifted slightly. What is it, Sylv?


    Our bond darkened for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ll tell you after the battle, when we can afford distractions.¡±


    I frowned slightly as our tether darkened, my foxy dragon focusing on her emotions and settling her thoughts. But despite my worry, I trusted my bond would do what she needed.


    I turned slightly as an elf phased into existence by my side, the wind magic that muffled his steps billowing slightly. Immediately, he knelt, his face covered by masks that reminded me of a ninja from my past life. He lowered his eyes as he sank a fist into the soft earth.


    ¡°Lances Silverthorn and Phantasm sent word. They are each in position and awaiting your orders,¡± the man said quietly. ¡°Permission to proceed?¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, calling on my mana as I prepared myself for what was to come. ¡°Granted,¡± I said. Over my bond with Sylvie, I repeated the same order. She had permission to proceed.


    All across the Beast Glades, several distinct strike teams had been gathered. Led by Tess, Aya, and Sylvie respectively, they prepared to send daggers right into the throats of our enemies. And like a trap drawing shut, we would all strike at the same time. The Alacryans were fielding their massacres from these hidden camps, but once they were destroyed? There would be no more deaths plaguing the countryside of Sapin.


    I held a hand out to the side as I dismissed the informant, cycling through a few hand signs to alert the troops behind me.


    Then I stared at the sound barrier, calling on my mana. My core thrummed, and I felt my mood dip into something cold and hard.


    I called on the power inherent in my blood, and I turned fireborne. My very skin began to glow a translucent orange as the fire mana in the atmosphere flared to my perception. I felt the urge to move; to rush and explode and let it all go.


    I felt what it was like to be fire itself.


    And as I built mana along my translucent legs in a precise pattern, staring deep into the heart of the Alacryan camp, I restrained the fury of the flames themselves for an instant. Holding them back like a wildfire. At the same time, I called on the wind mana, removing any sort of resistance from my body.


    Then I let Burst Step go. I blurred forward in a stream of heat, flames erupting from the soles of my feet in perfect conjunction with the timing of mana along my muscles and bones. Combined with the explosive nature of my fireborne form and the lack of air resistance, I streaked forward like the arrow of a god.


    I phased into existence right at the center of the Alacryan camp, a trail of cinders burning in my wake. I had a moment to register everything around me as my fiery form illuminated the darkness.


    A dozen or so men lounged around a campfire as I appeared in the middle of it, none of them armed or armored. Half a hundred mana beasts lounged unnaturally around the outskirts, corrupted beyond ken and unable to feel fear.


    I clapped my hands together, following the demands of the fire itself. Beneath me, the campfire of the utterly astonished Alacryans exploded upward in a pillar of flames that banished the night. It would¡¯ve been seen for miles around as a plume of orange battled against the stillness.


    The Alacryans didn¡¯t even have a chance to scream as they were turned to ash.


    Those fires roared for a moment, twisting and churning in a nimbus as wind magic amplified them with me at the center. Motes of purple aether flashed within, further guiding the destructive power of my spell. The flames roared.


    But it wasn¡¯t enough. Not yet.


    I grasped the tornado of fire as it swirled around me with my mind, harnessing its power as I pulled it closer and closer inward, as I compressed it with an effort of mind and aether.


    I shifted my stance, changing to my earthborne form. Where before I felt the impulse to move and strike and burst, the effects of the stone in my veins¨Ctinting me the yellow color of earth mana¨Cdemanded that I slow down. That I weather anything that came my way. The rolling surety assured me nothing could harm my body.


    I reared back my fist as I stared at the ground, focusing on the roiling tumult all around me. I could hear the screams of burning men, feel the tremble of the earth. A swirl of stone built like a gauntlet over my hand, interlaced with flames and motes of crackling electricity. A pillar of rock rose up directly beneath my feet like the head of a nail.


    Then I lined up precise points of mana along my robust body, keeping my focus on the enraged campfire and pillar of stone beneath my feet.


    Then I activated Burst Strike.


    My fist accelerated downward like a hammer, my shoulder nearly tearing itself from my socket as the mana activated my muscles in precise timings. My gauntleted spell slammed into the conjured pillar, slamming it deeply into the soft earth like a pile driver. The stone beneath me cracked and shattered, and then a shockwave traveled outward.


    As the earth broke from my strike, the shockwave carried my fire like a ship on the waves of a storm. In the next instant, I was windborne, glowing green with the freedom of the air. And with the power of my wind magic enhanced, I used the opportunity to push the fire even more, to really make it spread around me.


    When it was done, there was only destruction. Fires burned as the earth cratered and fell inward around me, smoke rising to the sky in a hundred-foot radius. I felt a twinge from my mana core and a strange sort of exhaustion from the quick changes in form, as if my mind had been pulled in too many directions at once.


    There had been hundreds of Alacryans and beasts before I initiated my strike. And as I looked about at the charred corpses and remnants of a garrison screaming in pain and weeping for their mothers¨Cas men did in every world¨CI felt a grim sort of acknowledgment, even through the flighty effects of windborne.


    I easily drifted to the side, evading a few buzzing saws of ice from a faraway caster that zipped back and forth erratically. As the initial shock of my attack ran its course through the survivors, spells began to hurtle toward me in strange mishmashes of color.


    For an instant, time seemed to slow as I watched all of the attacks stream for me. My auburn hair¨Ctinted green by the effects of windborne¨Cblew with the breeze as men tried to put up some sort of defense.


    I summoned Dawn¡¯s Ballad in a flash of purple, calling on my bond with Sylvie. And the world began to twist.


    I flowed forward into the bending space provided by Warp Step, appearing beside a faraway Shield. They¡¯d barely managed to survive my initial assault by creating pillars of ice beneath themselves and their comrades, but they didn¡¯t even see the flash of purple that took off their head in a graceful sweep.


    I ignored the shocked and horrified screams of the Casters and Strikers. Those weren¡¯t my targets. My eyes scanned the battlefield as mana built along my limbs once more.


    I Burst Stepped forward as I spotted another Shield, fire and cutting wind coursing along the blade of my sword. They¡¯d been creating little bubbles of metal around nearby mana beasts and their comrades, but that only highlighted them to me as a target I needed to eliminate.


    When I normally used Burst Step, the movement was uncontrollable once I¡¯d started. But with the effects of windborne, I was able to shift ever-so-slightly through my trajectory, calling on the currents around me to guide my strike.


    I breezed into the center of these Alacryans, casually thrusting the burning edge of Dawn¡¯s Ballad into the heart of an AA-class mana beast. From within the strange interlocking plates of metal, casters threw a myriad of spells at me, trying to pin me down. But I simply flowed upward, balancing on top of the mana beast¡¯s corpse as it was peppered with a hundred wounds.


    I became fire once again, feeling my affinity for the flames rise. And in turn, I could feel my knowledge of the lightning deviation heighten. I raised my sword into the night, calling on the ambient wind and fire mana. My blade crackled as electricity built along its edge, tinged with motes of aether.


    Little stormclouds grew around my small section of the battlefield. At the same time, I raised walls of earth to hem in my foes and ward off as many attacks as I could from the outside. My core strained and my body ached.


    Then I swung my blade down.


    Bolts of yellow lightning erupted from the stormclouds, streaking down in a crack of screaming yellow energy. The aether I¡¯d imbued followed it as it pierced the protective bubbles of metal, ionizing anything that got too close. And then the tendrils jumped from the metal, biting at the Strikers that were rushing me madly.


    Some managed to redirect the energy, or use some sort of rune to evade the chain lightning. Most didn¡¯t, instead becoming charred husks or twitching as they fell to the ground.


    I flew upward into the sky as more attacks tried to converge, aware that I couldn¡¯t defend against them all. Holding the wall of earth had already drained my reserves significantly.


    I looked down on the smoking ruins of the Alacryan camp like a vengeful deity as I allowed my fireborne form to fall away. It was in utter chaos. Men burned from fires. Twitched from lightning. Or simply couldn¡¯t escape the rubble from my initial earth spell.


    I¡¯d only directly impacted perhaps a third of the Alacryan camp so far, but that was the plan.


    I called on my mana, imbuing Dawn¡¯s Ballad with all four elements as I waved it in the air. ¡°Charge!¡± I snarled, the training I¡¯d done with Wren burning under the surface of my mind. ¡°Tear them apart!¡±


    And just like that, the elves and men waiting patiently at the edge of the camp erupted from the trees, surging inward toward the already chaotic battlefield, just as planned.


    I let myself think for a moment, casually batting aside a few spells that made it close to my position in the air, before I scanned the carnage for more Shields. And when I found them, I called on my bond with Sylvie, warping the space before me and stepping through.


    The battle didn¡¯t last another hour. With my disruptive initial assault and the chaos I¡¯d instilled, my troops wreaked bloody vengeance on the invaders. And as I tore apart their Shields, the enemy found it more and more difficult to resist.


    At some point, something had happened to turn the unnaturally docile corrupted mana beasts back to their feral nature, but that had only served to help my assault. While we took casualties, the odds were overwhelmingly in Dicathian favor.


    At the very end of it all, I stood at the center of what was once the camp as my troops continued to scour the area for any Alacryans still alive. With their gray and red battle armor, they were easy to spot and dismantle, and I had no doubt they regretted stepping foot onto my continent.


    A familiar man marched up to me with the precision of a trained soldier. Captain Janus Auddyr clanked as he walked, his glaive clenched tightly in his hands. His armor was dented and stained red in a dozen places, and it looked as if he¡¯d lost part of his hair in a fire. But there was a hardness to his eyes that belied the arrogance he¡¯d first shown me when I entered this war. When I shifted slightly, indicating I was aware of his presence, he immediately knelt.


    ¡°The Alacryans are all dead on our side,¡± he said grimly, his hand clenching around the haft of his halberd. ¡°Survivors ran deeper into the Beast Glades, and the corrupted beasts scattered. Will you send runners in pursuit?¡±


    I considered this for a moment, running over the pros and cons as I saw them. ¡°No,¡± I responded. ¡°What matters is that the Alacryans¡¯ control over the mana beasts is severed. Those mana beasts are the greatest threat to our people, and we don¡¯t have the resources at the moment to risk sending runners. I¡¯ll have a secondary sweep go over the area when this operation is done.¡±


    I paused, allowing myself to survey the remnants of the battlefield. ¡°Gather your men, Captain Auddyr. We have time yet in the night to strike a few more camps, and we cannot let the element of surprise go to waste.¡±


    Janus kept his eyes low. ¡°As you command, King Leywin.¡± He stood, then marched back to his men. He began to bark orders to them, forcing them into a semblance of unity once more.


    That was something the Captain¨Chowever arrogant he had once been¨Cwas talented at. He could rally his troops and soldiers into fighting fashion quickly and efficiently. And it seemed that my display on this battlefield was already making the impression I needed, seeing as the last embers of defiance in the Captain¡¯s eyes had gone out.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    My eyes flicked to the side, noting the phantom shadow of King Grey as he observed my interactions. Judging them as I once judged my enemies. I wondered what the hallucination was thinking. Were my choices respectable to King Grey? Or were they shallow and meaningless, tainted by the emotion of Arthur Leywin? I felt my anxiety rise as I stared at the hallucination, feeling the urge to try and tear it apart.


    I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, looking away from the shade as smoke rose into the sky. I thought I could feel his eyes on my back as I refocused my thoughts.


    I would need to talk to Sylvie when this was over. Tess as well.


    I approached the other leader I brought along with me on this expedition. Jesmiya Cruwer was the captain of the Trailblazer Division. Her soldiers had the greatest experience in expeditions through the Beast Glades and in striking dungeons, and as such her loyalty was paramount if I wished for my designs to go according to plan.


    She was deep in conversation with a few other men, but when they saw me, their words died on their lips as they stared at me with awe.


    The blonde-haired leader of the Trailblazers didn¡¯t share the same reverence I saw in the eyes of her soldiers¨Cbut there was respect. And hopefully, I could pull that respect into allegiance. When I approached, she bowed slightly.


    ¡°Commander Leywin,¡± she said sharply, sticking to protocol. ¡°I assume you are here to receive a report on our fighting forces.¡±


    I nodded, locking my hands behind my back as I stood tall, a contrasting mirror to the phantom of King Grey looming behind Jesmiya. ¡°I will need an accurate report of what losses we¡¯ve incurred, Captain,¡± I said, ¡°but more importantly: get your men ready to move. We will strike at least two more camps tonight, and we need to be prepared.¡±


    Before this attack, I¡¯d laid out my plans on a map to the Captains. They knew what was coming next.


    ¡°Pardon, Commander,¡± Jesmiya said, ¡°but there are wounded among us, and many are exhausted. We need to ensure our troops are rested before another march.¡±


    I glanced at the woman from the side of my eye, allowing a silence to linger between us for a short time. Enough to make her slightly uncomfortable.


    ¡°We will give them fifteen minutes to recuperate,¡± I said sternly. ¡°And then we move once more.¡±


    The woman ground her teeth slightly but finally nodded in acquiescence.


    As I strode away, using mana rotation to replenish my reserves of energy, I had an amusing thought.


    Grey would have allowed them only five minutes of rest.


    ¡ª


    The sun rose on a decimated hillside, the mountainous terrain absorbing the light from the distant east. But within the command tent, there was very little light beyond the torches arrayed at each of the four posts. The leaders around me radiated quiet exhaustion from the nightlong battles.


    ¡°This is a likely spot for a hidden teleportation gate, probably with a dungeon attached,¡± I said gruffly, pointing at a spot on our map a ways from our location. ¡°All of the camps we struck tonight have been within a twenty-five-mile radius of this location. During the recent downtime between our last assault, I scouted the land from the sky, and can say with certainty that there are dungeons in this area.¡±


    The task of the Trailblazer Division was to clear out dungeons of mana beasts regularly so the Alacryans wouldn¡¯t have an endless supply of monsters to throw at our citizens. This had become only more imperative as Agrona threw beasts across the continent, but the Division was also tasked with eliminating any teleportation gates found within the ruins of said dungeons. The Alacryans could somehow hijack those portals, allowing them to ferry troops and supplies over.


    Captain Jesmiya had told me that each teleportation gate was rumored to influence all four elements of ambient mana. Combining these two factors¨Cand the trend I¡¯d noticed of the Alacryan camps we knew of residing in relatively small clusters of three or four at a time¨Chinted to me that there was likely a dungeon with teleportation gates nearby.


    A quick flyby while I cycled through my earthborne form also allowed me to sense some ever-so-slight discrepancies in the earth mana in a certain radius, indicating there might be something underground.


    Captain Jesmiya nodded sharply, despite the weight I saw beneath her eyelids. ¡°Understood, Commander,¡± she said. ¡°Permission to gather my troops for the returning march?¡±


    I looked over the gathered captains and lieutenants, each exhausted beyond belief. ¡°Permission granted, soldiers,¡± I said, allowing my baritone to carry across the tent. ¡°But before you go¡­¡±


    I considered the weary men around me, all in various states of battle exhaustion. Most were missing parts of their armor or had clearly bandaged injuries in the wake of our strikes. But there was a rekindled ember in their eyes as they looked back at me. I even allowed myself to imagine that the shadow of King Grey looming in the far corners had a mote of resolve in his eyes as well.


    ¡°You have all done well today. Long have the Alacryans nipped at our sides and taken their pound of flesh. But tonight, we¡¯ve taken our first strike of vengeance,¡± I said, raising a fist into the air as I watched the soldiers and leaders shuffle with growing anticipation and fervor. ¡°The first of many!¡±


    Janus Auddyr was the first to take up the cry. ¡°The first of many!¡± he echoed, drawing the rest of the soldiers into a weary cheer.


    I felt regret as I dismissed them from my tent once the cheer died down, ensuring that they returned to their duties.


    I conjured a chair of earth, allowing myself to slump into it as my ramrod-straight posture melted away. I restrained the urge to groan as I finally began to feel the effects of all the fighting I¡¯d done throughout the night. The only other person in the room was my hallucination of King Grey, watching me apathetically.


    It was a decisive first counterattack, I thought wearily, allowing myself to run over plans I¡¯d made. As far as I could tell, I¡¯d executed them perfectly. It seems you still have the skills you cultivated, Arthur, but it would¡¯ve been impossible with the former Council.


    As Commander, Virion allowed everyone to reach a democratic decision on how to proceed with the war. The trouble was that each former monarch had ideas of how their kingdom should be run. How their troops should be distributed and their Lances assigned. All of this came together to create a ship filled with a hundred holes, each leaking water.


    And when the crew was too busy shoveling out the water with buckets and broken dreams, there was nobody to steer.


    Now, however? My word was law. I was King. With my direction, I was able to take quick and efficient action without being burdened by the squabbling of the Council.


    Namely, Lance Thunderlord had been assigned to watch for any more reports of mana beast attacks across Sapin. That was the safest option to assign the raging man, considering his simmering anger and the unpredictable actions he might take were I to enforce anything too sharply.


    There was a balance I needed to maintain with the Wykes and his aristocratic family. I didn¡¯t like him. He was brash, arrogant, and unwilling to recognize the wretch his brother had become which necessitated me putting him down. But our personal squabbles didn¡¯t matter when it came to the safety of the continent.


    I¡¯d assigned Zero and Ohmwrecker to positions along Sapin¡¯s southern border to deter any potential incursions from Seris Vritra¡¯s forces. The Scythe had managed to efficiently subsume most of Darv in the last couple of weeks in a manner that impressed even me, but I couldn¡¯t let her push any further north.


    I tilted my head to the side as I sensed someone approaching from the sky. I felt a smile feather across my face as the sensation of Tess¡¯ mana brushed against mine.


    I waited with growing anticipation as she settled down outside the tent, earning a few audible gasps and cries from the nearby soldiers.


    It didn¡¯t take her long to brush into the tent. The newly-dubbed Lance of Elenoir pushed aside the flaps, her posture perfect and her teal gaze serene. The woman I¡¯d known since childhood wore the sleek white uniform of the Lances, tailored to her tastes. Though a red sash stretched across her chest, drawing the eyes to the gold epaulet on her shoulder, the flow of the streamlined attire was made even more brilliant by the weave of vines and silver roses that adorned her shoulders.


    She smiled slightly as she looked at me, her eyes roaming over my form. She approached slowly as I pulled myself to my feet.


    And as Tess took up my entire field of view, the phantom of Grey in my background fizzled away. As I stared at her, my mind felt suddenly lighter. A weight lifted from my shoulders.


    Tess narrowed her eyes as she stared at my simple gray and black attire, paltry compared to hers. ¡°You could at least stand to use some armor, Commander Leywin,¡± she said with annoyance.


    I chuckled. ¡°Yeah, but then you wouldn¡¯t have come close enough,¡± I said deviously, reaching out a hand and ruffling her silver-gray hair in the way I knew annoyed her. Tess pushed my arm aside with an aggravated huff, before working desperately to try and fix her hair back into its proper place.


    ¡°Damn it, Art,¡± she complained, pushing me away. ¡°Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep dirt out of my hair during fights? And I had to use wind magic all the way here to make sure it wouldn¡¯t get ruined! And now you¡¯ve just¨C¡±


    I backed away slightly as she threw a fist at me, but it had no heat in it. I caught her strike, before twisting her in such a way that she was pulled closer into my arms.


    The noise around us fell away as Tess realized how I was holding her. I blinked, realizing what I¡¯d done on instinct a second too late. My body locked up as remembered hesitations surfaced in the back of my head. Tess looked back up at me.


    Tess¡¯ ears drooped slightly, her arms trapped between us. There was a slightly expectant look on her face as she stared at me, and I suddenly found my mind freezing. Even if I could no longer use Absolute Zero, I felt as if the spell had been cast on my mind, freezing both my limbs and thoughts in place.


    My childhood friend must have seen something in my eyes. Her eyes lingered on my lips, and I could sense what she wanted me to do. But I couldn¡¯t bring myself to acquiesce.


    She finally pulled herself away slightly, a look of slight sorrow on her painted features as the moment escaped us. I turned my head to the side even as I held her close. I worked my jaw, trying to pull my thoughts into something solid. Something to distract me from the guilt in my stomach.


    ¡°Do you still see him, Art?¡± Tess asked quietly, running a hand along my face as her fingers tickled at my growing beard.


    ¡°No. And yes,¡± I admitted. ¡°When you are here, I don¡¯t see him. But I feel him in my mind. Deep inside.¡±


    Tess nodded slowly, before pushing away from me at last. I felt a strange mix of reluctance and relief at the loss of her body heat.


    I felt the temptation every day. To order Tess to run and hide, far from Agrona¡¯s reach. She wouldn¡¯t be able to refuse me, either. I was King. She was my Lance.


    And then the shame would swell again. Part of me wondered if Tess had done this on purpose to cause me such internal questioning. I couldn¡¯t imagine why she¡¯d trust me so much. I had done nothing to earn it.


    And there was nowhere that Agrona¡¯s claws could not reach. That understanding¡­ That was why Tess had demanded the restrictions of the Lance artifact in the first place.


    What makes you think you deserve this happiness, King Grey¡¯s phantom voice repeated, after all that you¡¯ve done?


    My childhood friend narrowed out her features, pushing away her worry as she adopted the mantle of Princess and Lance. ¡°General Aya is still attending to our units as they meet up in the wake of our assaults. But I discovered information important to the war effort, so I elected to return to you as soon as possible to deliver it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Tess,¡± I said, pushing away my turbulent thoughts and doubts. ¡°What did you find?¡±


    And then the Princess of Elenoir began to speak. I listened with rapt attention as she delivered a sharp report of her battles and assaults against her assigned Alacryan camps.


    Tess had been adapting well to her new powers as a white core mage, and her growth had been visible with the use of the potential unlocking abilities of the scepter Lord Aldir had given me. But there were some notable differences to the other Lances, however, namely in how her Beast Will had interacted with the effects.


    ¡°But what instigated my rush back here was another discovery,¡± Tess said, standing taller. ¡°As I dispatched our enemies, Willow reacted to something. She grew angry, drawing my attention to one of the Alacryans in particular.¡±


    I leaned forward with interest. Tessia¡¯s Elderwood Guardian Will was an anomaly, even before Toren had siphoned it of corruption. But as the Lance artifact had activated, drawing forth Tess¡¯ latent potential and purifying her core, something else had happened, too.


    It hadn¡¯t just drawn out the princess¡¯ potential. No, it had augmented the Will as well. As if to punctuate my thoughts, a little vine peeked out from the Lance¡¯s sleeve, separate from any normal spell.


    ¡°What did Willow sense, Tess?¡± I pushed, sensing the gravity in my childhood friend¡¯s words.


    ¡°The Alacyran was holding some sort of black crystal,¡± Tess said. ¡°I couldn¡¯t sense anything from it, at least not until I engaged my Beast Will. But then I could tell. The crystal was somehow linked to all the corrupted beasts in the area. It was controlling them. Making them docile.¡±


    My childhood friend flourished her hand, drawing something from her dimension ring. As she said, a black crystal rested there, drinking in the darkness. ¡°I felt tempted to crush it, but considering what could be done with it¡­¡±


    I felt my mind light up with possibilities as I stared down at the crystal, a smile splitting my face as I walked forward. ¡°This is perfect, Tess,¡± I said excitedly. ¡°If we can manage to pick apart how these work¡­ Not even that. Even if we don¡¯t know how they work, just the fact that we know what directs these corrupted mana beasts could change the entire course of this war!¡±


    Tess¡¯ fingers curled around the crystal, a blush working up her pale face as she looked away from my dancing eyes. ¡°Y-Yeah,¡± she said, sounding flustered. ¡°But if we get this to Gideon, then we might have a chance to heal Grandpa.¡±


    I felt my smile fall at the mention of Virion¡¯s state. I¡¯d done all I could immediately after assuming my mantle, reaching out for any emitters I felt certain I could trust across Dicathen. I¡¯d ordered Gideon not just to create matchlock weapons, but also to try to dissect the nature of the corrupted mana beasts. It had only been a few weeks, and progress had been¡­ slow.


    I looked down at the black crystal. Maybe, I allowed myself an ember of hope. Maybe.


    Even if Virion was healed, I wouldn¡¯t be able to relinquish the mantle of King I had taken. Not with all that I¡¯d abruptly changed and the policies I¡¯d set in place. The binding oaths of the Lance artifacts were all tethered to me through use of the scepter Aldir had provided, and though they could be reassigned, the power could never truly return to the Council with the steps I¡¯d taken.


    But if Gramps were to awaken, then it wouldn¡¯t all just be on my shoulders.


    Tess and I stood there in silence for a time, each of us in our own thoughts. But the quiet was interrupted by a slight nudge from my bond.


    ¡°Arthur,¡± Sylvie said, ¡°I¡¯m coming down.¡±


    I glanced to the side, questing out with my mana sense. And a minute later, I could feel both Taci and Sylvie as they approached by air. A slight smile stretched across my face as Sylvie¡¯s draconic form pulled in her wings, diving through the clouds and down toward our location.


    The low light in the command tent dipped even lower as Sylvie¡¯s massive wings blocked out the rising sun. The ground rumbled as her legs hit the ground, sending tremors through the stones and the hearts of all lesser men.


    Taci, however, stayed high in the sky. I could feel the restrained anger in his intent.


    Tess shifted in anticipation as she sensed Sylvie change her form. She inched closer to me, her gemstone eyes intent on the flaps of the tent.


    When Sylvie pushed aside the flaps of the command tent, it was with the powerful poise of an asura. Her chin was tilted upward, emphasizing the curve of her sharp black horns. Her dark dress stood starkly against her choppy wheat-blonde hair. Her expression was serene as she entered, her amber-draconic eyes glowing in the low light.


    But when she looked between me and Tess, I felt a burst of amusement and happiness over our bond. Sylvie smiled slightly, reminding me that she was still technically a young girl, even if she looked as old as I was.


    ¡°If I¡¯m interrupting something between you two,¡± she said slowly, ¡°then I can just come back later.¡±


    I averted my gaze, remembering the moment Tess and I had shared a bit ago as I scratched the back of my neck. Tess, predictably, blushed all the way up to her ears. ¡°No, no! You aren¡¯t interrupting anything,¡± she said hastily, striding over to Sylvie. ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect you back so soon.¡±


    Sylvie smiled knowingly, sharing a look with me as she and Tess shared a long hug. I watched the scene, feeling that kindling warmth in my chest once more. The burning ember of happiness that I was so afraid to stoke.


    Watching the two together, embracing like sisters long lost, made something inside of my soul shift in a way I couldn¡¯t understand.


    And then the guilt returned, burying that rising fire.


    Sylvie¡¯s expression fell slightly as she sensed my emotions, separating from Tess.


    ¡°Arthur,¡± she thought, questing out mentally. She didn¡¯t need to say anything more. I darkened our bond slightly, feeling that shame again as I did so.


    It¡¯s nothing, Sylv, I said dismissively. But we need to hear your report.


    Sylvie reluctantly nodded, some quiet grief shining in her eyes. ¡°My assaults on the camps were successful,¡± she said. ¡°We were entirely victorious in each attack¨Cexcept for the last one. There were no mana beasts stationed there, and decay-aspected mana lingered in the air there. I suspect I just barely avoided a clash with a Scythe,¡± my bond said gravely.


    My brow furrowed at this knowledge. With my current abilities, I felt confident in being able to face a Scythe, and my bond was similar. I¡¯d intentionally sent Sylvie further south, trusting my instinct that that was where the Scythe was stationed. Taci had of course followed her, and while the young pantheon asura couldn¡¯t actually intervene in the war or fight at all, his presence would serve as a deterrent to protect Sylvie from any sort of direct clash.


    But this had its own slew of implications.


    ¡°Probably Viessa Vritra,¡± I said slowly, balancing what I knew of the two factions of Alacryans working for our subjugation on this continent. I knew a little about her abilities, courtesy of what I¡¯d wrangled from Uto before I executed him. ¡°But you said there were no beasts there?¡±


    Sylvie nodded sharply. ¡°And something else. The aether there felt¡­ a bit strange. My edict is vivum, not spatium, so I couldn¡¯t be certain. But I think portals were opened there recently when I arrived.¡±


    ¡°So you think that this Viessa Vritra is going around to each camp, opening portals for the beasts to travel through?¡± Tess said, looking with concern at my draconic bond. ¡°It would make sense why we haven¡¯t seen her¡­ But nothing of our intel says the Scythes have such direct control of aether.¡±


    ¡°It''s probably some sort of portal tech,¡± I intoned, my mind flashing back to the first time I¡¯d seen the site of a massacre in the middle of Sapin. So many dead, with both mana and aether stained red.


    Even now, the sites of each massacre felt tainted whenever I visited. Stained by the atrocity.


    ¡°Did you get any lead on where Viessa might be going next?¡± I said, engaging the cold thinking of Grey. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sylvie shook her head. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. But the traces I found were faint anyway, likely several hours old. And with the speed of flight¡­¡±


    ¡°She could be anywhere,¡± Tess filled in, a dark cast to her features.


    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, deciding on the next course of action. Between Sylvie¡¯s reports and Tess¡¯ discovery, there was much to do and plan for. ¡°I¡¯m going to send orders out shortly for our men to retreat back to the last camp, then set up tents to rest. Then we¡¯ll return to the Wall to formulate a more concrete plan.¡±


    Tess shifted, her posture becoming that of the Princess once more as talks of duty washed over her. But Sylvie showed visible reluctance.


    ¡°Arthur,¡± she said aloud, looking suddenly nervous, ¡°we need to talk about Taci Thyestes.¡±

 Chapter 258: Second Chances

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Tess¡¯ jaw clenched in rising anger at the mention of the pantheon asura, while my shoulders loosened. ¡°What did he say to you, Sylv?¡± I asked, sensing the quiet distress of her emotions.


    Sylv¡¯s eyes darted up, staring at the roof of the tent. Her gaze pierced the cloth, traveling through the ambient mana and toward where we both sensed Taci waiting far above.


    ¡°He demanded to know if the bond between us was forced upon me,¡± Sylv said. ¡°Though I told him in clear words that I partook in this war¡ªthat I stood by your side¡ªof my own free will and desires, that did not serve to settle his ire.¡±


    Unbidden, I felt old memories rise to the surface of my mind. Of that wretch, Sebastian, as he¡¯d tried to take Sylv from me using the authority of the Glayders.


    ¡°How could he say such a thing?¡± Tess said sharply, her fists clenching at her sides from anger. ¡°Anyone who even watches you two for a second would be able to tell that you¡¯re here because you want to be. The nerve!¡±


    I sighed, feeling a headache build in the back of my skull at the reminder of Taci Thyestes¡¯ constant anger. He bucked and fought against my authority like a raging bull wherever he could, barely listening to my bond when I set her to talk with him.


    I¡¯d trained with Taci in the aether orb, honing myself using Kordri¡¯s teachings. Alongside a few other young pantheons, my technique was forged into something capable of facing even the asura. And in the aftermath, I¡¯d known Taci bore a grudge. Something about being forced to train with a ¡®lesser,¡¯ and how it stained the honor of Epheotus itself.


    ¡°This can¡¯t continue,¡± I said with resignation. I needed to have a firm grip on all my subordinates. I needed to be certain they would act as I commanded. But with the live bomb that was Taci threatening the careful balance I¡¯d begun to craft¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Arthur,¡± Sylvie replied. ¡°But what can we do? I¡¯ve talked with Taci plenty enough. Most of the time he just refuses to speak, or hurls veiled insults. I¡¯m worried what he¡¯ll do if this goes on. If he¡¯ll reach a breaking point.¡±


    It was clear that I needed to do something. Something to fix this, or at least set an equilibrium.


    What would King Grey do? I asked myself, working from a familiar angle. How would he assert his authority?


    I knew immediately. The person I was in my past life would dominate his foes, breaking them and forcing his killing intent through their very bones. He¡¯d snap their limbs and cripple them for trying to defy him.


    But I couldn¡¯t do that here. Taci, however much I hated to acknowledge it, was an ally. An invaluable one, simply because he was an asura.


    No. King Grey couldn¡¯t bring Taci to heel. Even if I could beat the toddler asura in direct combat¡ªof which I was beyond doubtful¡ªTaci wasn¡¯t a human from Earth. He was an asura: something entirely different from what I¡¯d known.


    So what would King Arthur do?


    I made up my mind.


    ¡°Tess, I need you to start organizing our troops to retreat back away and set up their camp, as before,¡± I said, already preparing for what was to come within my mind. ¡°Make sure they¡¯re far from here.¡±


    My childhood friend sensed the gravity in my voice. She looked at me, worry overcoming her features. ¡°Art, if you¡¯re going to do something foolish¨C¡±


    ¡°Foolish, maybe,¡± I said, moving to the exit of the tent. ¡°But it¡¯s what needs to be done.¡±


    Sylv read the surface of my thoughts, and I could feel her worry as well. But she stayed silent despite the anxious expression and worried timbre of her thoughts.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be nearby,¡± she said. ¡°In case anything goes wrong.¡±


    The newest Lance hesitated behind me, noting the interplay between me and my bond, before she finally squared her shoulders. Tess walked up behind me, then gave me a quick hug. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll get the troops moving. Just¡­ come back in one piece from whatever you¡¯re going to do. That¡¯s what matters.¡±


    I ran a hand along her pale arms where they clasped my torso, using the closeness to reaffirm my decision, before I finally stepped out of the tent.


    I looked up, noting the clouds in the sky high above the hills around me. The sun was rising in earnest now, casting her warm touch all across the smokey remains of the camp. And without Sylv or Tess in my line of sight, King Grey once again made his appearance.


    I ignored him.


    Thankfully, the captains and leaders of these strike forces were still relatively nearby the tent. I strode over, careful to keep my shoulders squared and my chin high. When they noticed me, most nodded in respect. A few bowed deeper.


    I scanned the small gathering slowly, making sure to look each captain in the eyes. That was something I¡¯d learned to do long ago. It made those under my banner feel seen and acknowledged.


    ¡°I have some business to attend to that will take me from this camp,¡± I said sharply. ¡°In my absence, Lance Silverthorn will oversee your retreat and regrouping at a former camp so you can get a few hours of rest.¡±


    There were no complaints as I ensured they understood. Tess left the tent a moment later with Sylv in tow. As I lifted into the sky, the newest Lance approached the leaders, calmly relaying orders and calling them into line.


    Sylvie rose with me, her wheat hair shifting as we ascended at speed. My thoughts were grim and severe over our bond, and hers matched them. What I was about to do was dangerous. Maybe the most dangerous thing I¡¯d ever done.


    Taci hovered just below the clouds. His blood-red spear stood out against the clouds, the edge sharp enough to shear through the world itself. His martial robes hung loose on his body, allowing for perfect freedom of movement.


    All in all, he looked like the perfect depiction of what a warrior should be. With the ceremonial tattoos of his clan inked over his forehead and beneath one eye, I felt a rising swell of intimidation.


    But while he looked the epitome of a warrior, there was one place he failed. I recognized the expression on his face as he turned to look at me. One of masked contempt and anger, smoothed over by an attempt at apathy.


    ¡°Taci,¡± I said simply. My eyes shifted slowly from him, to Sylvie, then to the ground far below. ¡°On the ground.¡±


    His olive-green eyes flashed, and a sneer threatened to pull at his lips. He knew the path of the warrior as much as I did. There was no mistaking the implications behind my words.


    We both lowered back to the ground. I chose a clear expanse of rolling grass a significant way from the other camp, making sure there were no obstacles. As my boots settled down on the ground, I felt the loose soil compress ever-so-slightly. Blades of long grass waved in the summer morning, dewdrops glistening in the sun.


    Sylv settled a ways back, watching the both of us keenly as Taci and I squared off. The young asura clenched the haft of his spear tightly, silently staring at me.


    I rolled my shoulders, then began to stretch my body. I pulled on my arms, ensuring my tendons were loose and mobile. I hopped a few times, getting my breathing in sync as I prepared myself for what was to come. Mana flowed along my veins and into my muscles, enhancing my strength and dexterity as my focus sharpened.


    ¡°What do you hope to accomplish with this, Arthur Leywin?¡± Taci sneered from across the field. ¡°Do you wish for me to break your bones so badly that you¡¯d call this bout?¡±


    I snorted in amusement, feeling strangely light. ¡°Please, Taci,¡± I said playfully, settling into one of the stances Kordri had taught us as I finally loosened my body. ¡°At the very end of our time training together, you failed to land a single blow on me¨Cwith your fellow pantheons assisting you.¡±


    Taci¡¯s face went carefully blank at my words, his King¡¯s Force radiating out from him. I suppressed a shudder as it washed over me, and I felt Sylvie¡¯s rising worry.


    ¡°Art, maybe this isn¡¯t a good idea,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°I can still call this off. He¡¯ll listen to me if I do.¡±


    No, Sylv, I thought back, time seeming to slow around me as my fighting instincts kicked in. Every time you two talk, he listens less and less. One day, he¡¯ll simply ignore you. We can¡¯t let that happen. And should anything happen, I¡¯ll have you to heal me.


    My bond looked between us with rising apprehension, but I finally tuned her out of my mind.


    Taci twirled his spear, the red flashing, before slamming it into a nearby rock. The sheen of red easily parted the stone, sliding in like a hot knife through butter. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he settled into a familiar stance as well.


    ¡°This will end differently than before,¡± Taci snarled. ¡°With mana, you are nothing to an asura. A lesser.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think so?¡± I said, feeling the hum of mana in my acclorite-infused body. ¡°You might be surprised.¡±


    Taci blurred toward me, a flash of gold and red robes. I barely managed to duck the swing of his fist, losing a few strands of my hair as the razor wind carved it away. Engaging Thunderclap Impulse, the world slowed around me as my reflexes and micromovements increased tenfold. Taci¡¯s hazy outline shifted into focus.


    Good.


    Low as I was, I took the opportunity to kick out with my leg, attempting to sweep the young pantheon¡¯s feet out from under him. He expertly raised a foot, moving at accelerated speed despite my enhanced perception, before swinging an elbow toward my skull.


    Thinking quickly, I engaged my windborne form. I flowed around Taci¡¯s strike with supernatural grace, my hands latching onto two points of his arm.


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    The asura watched me with cold eyes as I shifted into waterborne. Thunderclap Impulse sputtered out as I temporarily lost my affinity for fire mana, using the flowing momentum to hurl him to the side.


    But even as I executed the throw with perfect precision, Taci managed to snap out with a fist. His knuckles scraped across my face as I instinctively rolled with the blow, the enhanced abilities of waterborne allowing me to shift like a ship on the tide.


    Still, even as I hurled Taci a good dozen yards away, the gash he scored across my forehead with the edge of his knuckle was deep. My mana barrier had simply parted from the sheer force imbued into his casual strike.


    The wound didn¡¯t leak blood. No, it bled mana. I felt my core empty ever-so-slightly as the wound shone.


    Taci had easily gotten his feet back under him, but I recognized the look on his face at this first exchange. One of shock and surprise. He didn¡¯t understand how I was still standing.


    ¡°I never paid attention to you during our spars in the aether orb, Taci,¡± I said, settling back into stance as I let waterborne drift away. This time, blood did leak from the cut over my brow. ¡°You were my partner there, true. But I didn¡¯t care about you. Didn¡¯t think to really understand what you felt during each trade of blows and every throw.¡±


    Taci¡¯s shock dipped back toward anger again. ¡°Then that is your mistake, Arthur Leywin,¡± he snapped. ¡°Because all I have done for years is train within the aether orb, ensuring that the next time we fought I would prove to you your insignificance.¡±


    The grass between us wove in the breeze, entirely uncaring of our spar. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you felt so strongly about me, Taci,¡± I said jokingly, a jaunty grin rising on my face. ¡°I don¡¯t know about asura, but there¡¯s something in human culture about unrequited lo¨C¡±


    It was only instincts honed over decades that saved me next. Without consciously being aware of it, I fell into earthborne, my defenses increasing a hundredfold as the earth mana called to me.


    Just in time for Taci to phase into existence in front of me, the sound barrier shattering in his wake and the soft soil erupting behind him like a tide.


    The fist that slammed into my ribcage wasn¡¯t entirely unexpected. On sheer instinct, I tried to redirect the force through my body and into the earth, dispersing it as Elder Buhnd had shown me.


    It was only partially successful. As I hurtled backward like a bullet, I managed to only suffer from a few cracked ribs instead of ruptured internal organs. I wheezed, mana misting from my mouth instead of blood.


    He used Burst Step, I thought. That¡¯s how he was so¨C


    Taci phased into existence over top of me, a leg raised high in preparation for a devastating axe kick. I could see the sheer amount of mana churning and roiling there, ready to be unleashed in an explosion of force.


    I barely switched to windborne in time, engaging Thunderclap Impulse as I flowed to the side. Taci¡¯s heel slammed into the ground with the force of an earthquake, the entire field rumbling from the eruption of mana beneath his boot. The sound of splitting earth and breaking stone told me how much strength his casual blows carried.


    I settled my feet beneath me, feeling the ache in my mana core and the protests of my body. I gritted my teeth, before engaging fireborne. I lashed out with an explosive punch that singed the edges of Taci¡¯s robes, before switching to waterborne once more to try and redirect another of Taci¡¯s attacks.


    Taci simply caught my arm. He shifted into a pose I knew, his sneer evidenced in his killing intent. He tensed, preparing to snap my elbow in half with a simple tug.


    Half a dozen options to counter this flashed in my mind. With my arm bound, I was weak. Defenseless, at his mercy.


    I settled on one quickly, a technique I¡¯d learned in my previous life. A signature strike of the fire style of swordsmanship¨Cbut it could be adapted.


    Instead of trying to escape his joint lock, I engaged fireborne. As the roaring desires of a wildfire coursed through my mana veins, I shifted so that I was closer to the pantheon. I looked him in his eyes as a slight smile spread along my face. I twisted my hand ever-so-slightly, angling it just right. A gauntlet of stone formed along my knuckles, giving each of them a wicked spike that sparked with flames.


    Then I engaged Burst Strike.


    The force of mana activating specific muscles along my shoulder and arm¨Clike the eruption of lava from a volcano¨Ctore the limb from Taci¡¯s grip. But not just that: my pistoned fist soared upward with the force of a burning orange missile, fire, earth, and wind mana gathering along my knuckles as they sped for Taci¡¯s jaw.


    And then it connected. With a whiplash I¡¯d never seen, Taci¡¯s head rocked as my blow obliterated his defenses. The thundercrack of contact echoed across the ambient mana as the asura sailed through the air, tongues of fire and bruising lining his jaw. His eyes stared wildly up into the sky.


    I heaved for breath as Taci¡¯s body hit the ground with a flop. He seemed too stunned for a moment to even move, working his jaw as a trail of blood leaked from his mouth. I winced at the pain in my shoulder, this modified technique of Burst Step far from perfected. The knuckles of my hand ached, the bones cracked from this explosive attack. Mana leaked from my wounds.


    Taci raised a hand, wiping the blood from his face. He stared at it in disbelief.


    Then in anger.


    The asura rose to his feet slowly, the King¡¯s Force radiating from him redoubling. ¡°I¡¯ll make you pay for that,¡± he hissed, his aura stealing the breath from my lungs.


    He was holding back, I thought with gritted teeth as the pantheon bared his fangs at me. His pretense of martial calm had long abandoned him. All along, he was toying with me.


    The asura set his stance, feeling fury grow. And when I felt pain next, I knew not where it had come from. I crumpled to my knees as Taci¡¯s fist somehow phased into existence by my side, striking solidly at my liver.


    I wheezed, coughing out blood as my fireborne form drained away. ¡°Every one of my peers will soon undergo their first journey as Yaksha. They embark on their first Warrior¡¯s Path, seeking worthy foes to give them experience. To make them blades,¡± Taci hissed down at me, clenching and unclenching his fist. ¡°At their knees shall be warriors and mighty beasts, conquered through their strength. And before me¡­ before me kneels a lesser. A lesser who thinks to point and prod and manipulate me. It is beneath me.¡±


    Despite the pain wracking my body¡ªand Sylvie¡¯s blaring worry over our bond¡ªI eked out a laugh that rattled the broken parts of my insides. ¡°Beneath you¡­ Is that what you you really think?¡± I pressed through bloody teeth. ¡°Because I¡¯ll tell you something, Taci.¡±


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet, feeling my bones ache and my body protest. ¡°When we sparred, I didn¡¯t look at you because I thought you were unworthy. That I was some sort of asura and you a lesser.¡±


    I looked toward the pantheon, with his upturned chin and arrogant features. His fists dripped with my blood. ¡°No. I never saw you in the first place. Because you know what¡¯s bigger than just you? Than me? Than those peers that are becoming Yaksha or whatever? Bigger than Kordri and Aldir and everyone else?¡±


    I spat out a wad of blood, before shifting back into stance. ¡°It¡¯s this war, Taci Thyestes. The war I fight for the sake of those I love. That was why you never factored into the equation. Because even asura are lessers in war.¡±


    The world erupted with noise and mana as our spar continued. I fell into an old, familiar flow as I dueled the young asura. The weapon arts of my previous life¡ªthe ones that focused on molding ki to mimic elemental expressions¡ªcame back to the forefront of my mind as I began to pick up a rhythm.


    As the asura and I exchanged a dozen sweeps, parries, strikes, and throws within the space of a single second, a grin began to stretch across my face. I left every exchange the loser as the pantheon kept me on the back foot. Every clash left me with bruises and cracked bones as Taci worked through the martial forms taught to both of us. He still wasn¡¯t trying, I knew. He still wanted to prove himself my better.


    But even as I bled mana, my body aching and my core trembling, I was beginning to catch on.


    Fire to wind; earth to water. Water to wind and back. The information the ambient mana fed me kept me moving and fighting, even as we flashed around our makeshift battleground. My simple robes were stained with blood and mana as we phased about, disregarding the sound barrier with every thunderclap.


    And through it all, Taci¡¯s expression shifted. It was anger at first. An overwhelming, clouding anger. But as my martial form gradually improved; as I used his expertise to hone myself like steel across a whetstone, he forgot his fury. He became focused, focused like I was. I felt it in the exchanges of our fists as he pushed himself in new ways, in different forms.


    Taci backed away from me at last, his body covered in a dozen small cuts and scrapes. He looked down at them disbelievingly, before staring back at me.


    I was far, far worse off. I dripped blood onto the grass beneath me, and my limbs felt like cotton. My mind was tar, the whiplash of shifting between all the different mindsets of mana causing me to feel stretched beyond my means. More than a few of my ribs were cracked and broken, and I could feel the blood seeping across my innards.


    ¡°How long has it been since you¡¯ve really been challenged, Taci?¡± I prodded weakly, wavering on my feet. ¡±Whatever this ¡°Yaksha¡± is, could it match this? How long has it been since someone has made you improve?¡±


    Because I knew Taci. I knew the anger in his body and the fury that drove him. It was the fury of Grey. The child locked in an unending quest for martial prowess, who could never afford to be bested in the skill of the sword.


    Taci Burst Stepped toward me, his face expressionless as his intent bled away. He hadn¡¯t been able to do that before, too enraptured by his emotions. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But I let my foggy mind connect the dots, pull understanding from the hazy expanse of my misted thoughts. I¡¯d been tugged in every single direction as I engaged my different manaborne forms, to the point that each and every mindset blended together like colors of light.


    And those mindsets¡­ They weren¡¯t so different. What really separated fire from earth? Water from wind?


    It wasn¡¯t just earthborne that I became next. It was waterborne, too. Striations of translucent blue and yellow coursed across my body as my sense for fire and wind mana bled away. A gauntlet of stone and flowing liquid encased my arms as I conjured them in a split instant.


    I caught Taci¡¯s straight punch in the mana of my hand. Before, I would¡¯ve been too slow. Too encumbered by the weight of stone and soil coursing through my blood. But the flowing nature of water greased my stuttering limbs, giving me the mobility of a well-oiled machine.


    I eased the excess force through my body with a redirecting wave of earth mana, the ability enhanced by the flow of water in my veins. Taci and I slid back a dozen feet as we carved furrows in the dirt, grass uprooting. The land cried out in pain as I funneled the force of his energy into the ground, bleeding off his momentum.


    And then I let go of water, and embraced fire.


    My Burst Strike¡ªamplified by the sturdy momentum of earth and the explosive rage of a volcano¡¯s eruption¡ªcratered Taci¡¯s mana barrier, then smashed against his solar plexus. I felt his ribs crack and break beneath the strength of my blow before he flew backward faster than I could even perceive. Distantly, I heard the smashing sound of rock shattering.


    I fell to my knees, my mana core creaking in protest as I struggled not to fall unconscious. My acclorite-assisted form became flesh once more as my strength abandoned me. I knelt there for an indeterminate time, barely able to hear myself think.


    Then I blinked, looking up as Sylv rushed over. She held her dress up, bouncing between the utterly obliterated area around me as she bounded forward. Her amber eyes were awash with worry and fear.


    ¡°Hey Sylv,¡± I said, my broken ribs rattling. ¡°You¡¯re a little late to the party.¡±


    My bond didn¡¯t say anything, only knelt by my side. She held out her hands, her expression focused as aether particles began to swirl around her. I watched like a child observing their first toy as the vivum sank into my body, easing my wounds. And also¡­ something else.


    Soulfire sputtered along her hands, following and tracing the path of the aether as it melded into my flesh. And my body began to reknit.


    I exhaled a breath of surprise and relief as my wounds slowly sealed over, leaving only a chilling numbness in its place.


    But then a shadow was cast over my body.


    Taci Thyestes¡¯ breathing was rattled, blood streaming down his chin as he gingerly held his visibly destroyed chest. His eyes were hard and venomous as they stared down at me.


    And in his hands was his spear.


    The asura looked between my bond and me, his teeth grinding.


    ¡°Ensure the Lesser King is healed, Sylvie Indrath,¡± he snapped, his fist clenching around his spear and veins along his face bulging. ¡°I demand a rematch when his lesser body is no longer broken. He doesn¡¯t yet understand his place, and it is my duty to teach it to him.¡±


    The young pantheon marched away, dust and dirt and blood caking his once-immaculate robes. And after a second of waiting at the edge of our battlefield, he rose into the sky, turning north.


    I collapsed onto my back, feeling the ache of my fight more in my mind than my body any longer. I felt strained, as if I¡¯d pushed too hard while on too little sleep. My consciousness flared in and out as I chuckled weakly.


    ¡°Arthur, what in the name of my grandfather were you thinking?¡± Sylv said sharply, still kneeling by my side. ¡°You could¡¯ve gotten yourself killed! After what Taci said, what he deserved was¨C¡±


    I didn¡¯t know why, but my bond¡¯s words made me laugh. Phantom pains raced across my chest as I laughed harder than I had in a long, long time.


    Grey¡¯s phantom challenge reverberated through my mind again, images of Tess and Sylv and my family pressing against the fog of my head. What makes you think you deserve this happiness?


    I didn¡¯t deserve the happiness I was finding. I didn¡¯t deserve a second chance; not after the millions who had died in my wake.


    But I¡¯d been given this chance anyway, regardless of what was just or right or fair. And all I could do was ensure that the King I was now was better than the King I was then. That I could atone for the wrongs I had done, even a world away.


    And if I could find a way to make use of this new life, this second opportunity, what right did I have to deny another person the opportunity to grow?


    ¡°If I am a King of anything, Sylv,¡± I muttered weakly, watching the sun as it finally rose above us, ¡°it is the King of Second Chances.¡±

 Chapter 259: Prodigal

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    Aurora Asclepius


    My talons tore into the flesh of the monster as I fought to press it to the ground. Though my plasma burned and shredded the flesh of the venator, its claws still tore rough gouges across my bronze form.


    I pinned the creature, unable to feel pain through the stark metal of this Vessel. Then I allowed the mana afforded to my brass form to build along my maw, before a beam of white plasma erupted from my beak.


    It took precious few seconds for the heat to scour through the S-class mana beast¡¯s crocodilian hide¨Cbut its struggles weakened as my mana arts scoured a molten hole through its skull.


    And from the watchtower-thick trees nearby, my son blurred from the canopy, using telekinetic pushes and pulls¡ªalongside his beautiful wings¡ªto freefall close to the ground. Wind trailed in his wake as Soulplume brightened his eyes. Feathered runes burned along his arms as he twisted supernaturally.


    Half a dozen bone spears erupted along the path he¡¯d just avoided, thunking into the underbrush as he rolled and zipped like the phoenix he was. He was covered in half a dozen cuts, each weeping blood. A few fingers on his right hand were missing, replaced by shrouded replicas. His shrouded armor struggled to rejuvenate, his heartfire pounding and heaving.


    And high above him in the canopies, half a score S-class mana beasts¨Call part of a wretched pack¨Csquawked and hollered down, bones stronger than steel growing supernaturally along their hides. Whenever they grew large enough, the quadrupedal creatures would grab them, snapping them off before hurling them down like ballista bolts from a godbow. And whenever they hit the ground, they exploded into a thousand storms of shrapnel that shredded nearly anything.


    ¡°They don¡¯t allow me to get close,¡± Toren thought quickly. ¡°I¡¯m having a hard time focusing on just one when nine others focus in whenever I¡¯m on the brink of tearing out their throats. I¡¯m thinking Operation Throw-Feather?¡±


    I felt a bit of annoyance build in my metallic chest at the title given to our team attack, but there was no time to push against it.


    Very well, my bond, I thought, feeling the heartfire that linked us and gave this Vessel life. I am ready.


    Over the past month of our journey through the treacherous Beast Glades, my son was not the only one to grow in his abilities. While he focused on a specific ability with heartfire, his shrouds, and put his everything into assimilation, I opted to seek deeper understanding of the energy that bound my soul.


    And thus, no longer was I limited in Toren¡¯s ability to connect me to my relic. I could spread my wings as I pleased, seeking the skies at will.


    I pressed my will into the long vein of heartfire that bound this Vessel to my feather, and the connection fuzzed, then dissipated. My shade floated out and away from the relic as it shrank inward on itself, becoming a feather once more.


    Just in time for Toren to swoop in like a falcon on the wing, snatching the bronze brooch from the air. A dozen more spears of bone tried to strike Toren as he settled on the ground, but with a twist of his mana, a rising vortex of fire and telekinetic power diverted everything like twigs thrown into a hurricane. Some were caught in the tempestuous flow, whipping around like fish in a slipstream. A few exploded in waves of shrapnel, but those innumerable shards of bone were caught in turn.


    This was another avenue Toren had sought to improve on. The synergy between his regalia and other powers allowed him a distinct avenue of growth.


    The mana beasts howled in anger. More and more attacks pelted his vortex of fire and force, but that only served to fuel the white flames higher. Our minds were nearly perfectly in sync as I kept my distance, careful not to influence his soul as he drew on my common understanding of insight.


    A few ribbons of telekinetic force appeared around Toren, before they all corded together in a result greater than the sum of its parts. It became a familiar accel path, one primed for a lance of light or for he himself to throw himself into it. He shifted, lining up his sights as he focused on the heartfires and sonar outlines of the distant S-class mana beasts.


    They were moving closer, I knew. As I laid a phantom hand over Toren¡¯s shoulder, I gazed upward, sensing the intelligence of these creatures as they shifted tactics.


    And finally, one peered over the edge of the swirling tornado of fire. Quickly, I extended the shades of my hand as I brushed them against the relic, drawing on the heartfire pulsing within.


    Toren let the relic accelerate within the line of force he¡¯d created at record speed. The sound barrier cracked as it shot through the skull of the arrogant beast.


    I emerged once more in my Vessel Form, fully in the midst of the pack of monsters. My bronze wings glistened in the low light of the orange-leafed trees. For an instant, I felt the majesty of what it was to be free again.


    But I was no longer flesh and blood. I would never be again.


    I flapped wings coated in white plasma, sending a hundred tiny arcs of burning energy into the disoriented bone-covered mana beasts. They howled and raged, priming spears to try and pin me like a snapdragon wasp to a board.


    But they¡¯d let themselves be distracted.


    Toren surged into their midst a moment later, pulling on the branches they used to balance themselves. Even as I tackled a few of them, the majority of the mana beasts were ripped from their posts, falling with screeches and angry eyes down and down.


    One of them managed to claw at my son as it fell, drawing a bloody gash across his torso as it punched through his weakened armor. Unperturbed, Toren swiped at it with a shrouded saber, stealing some of its vital energy in that quick intersection of lifeforce. Without wasting another moment, he slammed half a hundred telekinetic punches¡ªeach coated in reverberating sound spells¡ªinto its armored hide, shattering and breaking bone as they carried pulping vibrations deep into its body. The blood that sprayed onto Toren¡¯s skin sizzled away as he absorbed the energy inside by second nature.


    His wounds healed over in a wash of light, and his fingers gradually regrew as the shrouded variants dispersed.


    The rest of the S-class beasts fell into the forty-foot-tall vortex of white fire and force below and were utterly torn apart. As they were drawn into the tempest, the very bone spears they¡¯d thrown into it before proved their downfall as they were accelerated into each of the creatures with the force of a thousand bow-shots.


    In my beak, I held the corpse of one of the monsters, while the other two lay broken on the ground. I heard the mechanisms making up this strange Vessel creak as I turned to observe the aftermath of our fight.


    Toren pressed a hand into my side, funneling some of the excess lifeforce he¡¯d drained into my structure. I was somewhat aware of the soulmetal shifting and reorienting, fixing itself as it was provided sustenance.


    ¡°Thank you, my son,¡± I said fondly, ¡°The metal of this frame has undergone more trials than I ever expected.¡±


    Toren looked down at the ash of the mana beasts far below, lost deep in thought. I could not sense it, but I knew he was using the art of mana rotation. When I entered my Vessel Form, Toren could not rely on the constant stream of mana that emanated from my feather, as it was redirected to my metallic body.


    As I released my hold on the Vessel, becoming a shade once more as I hovered by my son¡¯s side, I felt the resonant focus of Toren¡¯s mind even as he let Soulplume drift back into his core.


    ¡°These mana beasts were guarding something before they started to chase me,¡± Toren thought, not showing the exhaustion that plagued his body and core. ¡°I caught a hint of it, but there was something about its blood that called to me. I¡¯m gonna go back to see what it is.¡±


    I settled my ghostly, transparent hand on Toren¡¯s shoulder, holding it there in the way I knew he found comforting. He couldn¡¯t see me right now, as I did not allow it. But he was reinvigorated by my presence.


    As my son zipped back into the watchtower-like trees of the deepest parts of the Beast Glades, I allowed myself to think of all that had transpired this past month. Day in and day out, Toren trained himself as a hunter of the Asclepius should. Every morning and every evening, he worked through his assimilation, absorbing knowledge from our Will. And when his soul was stretched to bursting, he engaged in combat with the countless mana beasts that roamed this deep in the Glades.


    It had not been easy. There were very few beasts that could pose a threat to my bond¡¯s life in single combat on this continent, but the monsters of the Glades did not work alone. Rarely did he get the chance for rest or recovery, which pushed him to rely even more on mana rotation and his new life-siphoning technique.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    But we were close. So, so very close to my home and Hearth. With every step closer we weaved, I felt my very soul tremble in anticipation. A growing joy¡ªand twofold fear¡ªgripped me as I guided Toren closer to my home. To his home.


    They will think him mighty and great, I thought, watching the young man as he weaved through the trees, retracing his steps. He has grown from my teachings, becoming more. A true phoenix. They will accept him as their own, of that I am certain. He is my son, and he has undergone his First Sculpting, after all, but¡­


    I feared to tell Toren the worry gnawing in my stomach. I longed to meet my family so dearly. Longed for them to meet him. Deep in my soul, I waited for my sons to finally meet.


    If there was anything Toren knew, it was brotherhood. I had left my Chul, abandoned him in grief when the opportunity for an envoy to speak with Agrona had arrived. Yet still a child, I had left him alone, hating myself for the sense of loss I experienced every time I looked at his beautiful eyes.


    Toren slowed in the air, twisting slightly as he turned toward my invisible form. ¡°Aurora,¡± he thought worriedly, that scar over his brow wrinkling in turn, ¡°are you okay?¡±


    I pushed away my reminiscing. Toren had taught me long ago the importance of change; of growth. It had taken much for me to finally grow past the prison I had been in.


    Past the prison I¡¯d placed myself in.


    I am well, my son, I thought, knowing he could sense the melancholy pervading my soul. I am simply allowing myself to remember what is lost. But also knowing what is to come soon.


    Toren smiled slightly. His hair had grown now, reaching to the top of his chest. He¡¯d lost his hair tie somewhere along our constant battles, and now only wore it loose. Something in me melted at the simple expression.


    He looked so much older than he had when I¡¯d first brought him to this world.


    ¡°I¡¯m here to talk if you need me,¡± he thought back, raising a hand and squeezing my arm. ¡°You know that, right?¡±


    Toren¡¯s sense for the soul had only grown this past month as he grew more and more accustomed to it. Now, I didn¡¯t even need to push at his essence for him to see me. He could sense my ghost as it wove about him.


    Focus on your task, Toren, I chided in turn. We are almost upon your destination.


    Toren¡¯s face evened out again. ¡°Of course.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take us long to find what we were looking for. Though I bore no flesh and blood Vessel any longer, I was certain my son could smell the carnage from where he hovered in the sky.


    Two creatures lay slain on the forest floor, their once-pristine pink scales darkened to purple by blood. Their beautiful wings were sundered and torn, the flesh ripped apart by half a dozen bone spears that thrust from their bodies.


    Toren slowly set himself down from across the dead mana beasts, hesitating on the sidelines. The entire forest was covered in shadow, but it seemed darker still at that grim center-point of death.


    ¡°Phoenix wyrms,¡± the young mage said aloud softly, saddened by the display of broken beauty.


    I strode forward, kneeling by the broken bodies. I ghosted a hand across them both, feeling a different sort of sorrow in my gaping heart.


    ¡°How were they killed?¡± Toren asked himself as he strode forward, the forest eerily silent. ¡°Phoenix wyrms should be able to teleport when close to death, shouldn¡¯t they? Or something like that?¡±


    I closed my phantom eyes. They can, Toren. When near their end, these beasts can elongate their pink scales, crafting a cocoon around themselves. And when that cocoon shatters, they use all that is left of their mana to teleport elsewhere, I thought to him mournfully. But this phoenix wyrm would not risk fleeing. They had something greater than their own life to protect.


    Toren came up short, realization dawning as he looked between the two broken bodies.


    A mother and a child, wrapped in a broken embrace.


    We were silent as we stared at this tapestry of sorrow, each of us feeling something different. The beasts Toren had slain earlier were worthy prey indeed, but this was not the skillful strike of a hunter. This was the cowardly attack of creatures who knew their quarry would not risk their fullest abilities.


    Take their cores, Toren, I thought to him, turning away. You have told me of what can be done with them. Take them.


    Toren looked at me hesitantly. ¡°I didn¡¯t win this victory,¡± he thought. I had taught him much of the arts of the hunt these past few months, and he knew that the greatest of us never took what we didn¡¯t slay ourselves.


    This isn¡¯t just a hunt, I told my son, ghosting my fingers along the pristine white scales of the fallen mana beasts. This is war. There are times for honorable contests between predator and prey. And sometimes¡­


    I turned away, falling back into my thoughts.


    ¡ª


    It was evening again when Toren was finally finished processing the corpses. The retrieval of the beast cores¡ªboth still brimming with mana¡ªwas a simple thing. But my son did his due diligence in stripping the corpse, taking apart everything he could use.


    Now he sat by a small fire, watching a filet of meat he¡¯d sliced as it slowly cooked. The trees loomed high above us, stretching hundreds of feet into the air.


    A few mana beasts¡ªeasily S-class¡ªhad attempted to ambush my bond as he¡¯d worked. But with the growing bloodlust and anger that suffused his soul, he¡¯d scared most of them off with a simple flex of his intent.


    The sight of the dead phoenix wyrms had affected us both.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± Toren said, looking deep into the fire, ¡°what will happen to you when I reach the Integration Stage?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond. I wasn¡¯t ready to, yet. Instead, I stared at the fire.


    ¡°I can still feel my core purifying, but it¡¯s not¡­ the same as it was before when I was at the yellow or silver stage. And it¡¯s even stronger with the effect of mana rotation.¡± He looked up at my shade. ¡°When a mage undergoes Integration, their core shatters. Their body becomes their core. But what does that mean for you?¡±


    I chuckled lightly, dismissing his worries. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Toren,¡± I responded honestly. ¡°You know how unique my circumstances are. Perhaps I will drift away on the wind, an anchor point gone. Or maybe the feather that reflects my soul will meld with you in full. I cannot be certain.¡±


    My words did little to assuage Toren¡¯s fears. ¡°I¡¯m learning more and more about the soul every day,¡± he said, a swell of resolve burning over our bond. ¡°I¡¯ll find a way to keep you here when the time comes. I promise.¡±


    I settled down next to my son, kneeling in the traditional manner as I wrapped an arm around him. ¡°Remember to tend to your food, my bond,¡± I chided lightly. ¡°It will burn without steady care.¡±


    Toren blinked, then cursed as he finally realized the filet of meat he¡¯d been cooking was beginning to blacken. He haphazardly adjusted it with his telekinesis, ensuring the spread was even.


    I smiled slightly. ¡°Integration is a mystery even to we asura, Toren,¡± I said in a careful tone. ¡°It is the pathway to becoming more, this much we know. All I can say for certain is that your magic will change, and the heavens shall open for your future insight.¡±


    Toren was silent for a time, prodding at the fire. The lingering embers that sparked and danced from his fire made him look melancholy: a single traveler hunched around the only source of warmth. ¡°Aurora¡­ what was it like for you, growing up in Epheotus?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond for a time, sensing my bond¡¯s emotions as he asked the question. The uncertainty and worry pervaded him like a fog, all the questions about how his family might be his finally bubbling to the surface.


    ¡°It was far from lonely, my child,¡± I said quietly, kneeling by my son¡¯s side. ¡°But, in a way, I was still¡­ alone. I never earned the privilege of meeting those who brought me into the world. For all intents, Mordain did what he could to raise me, the elder brother protecting his vulnerable little sister against the cruelty of asuran politics.¡±


    Toren¡¯s face wrinkled slightly in consternation. ¡°I can¡¯t really imagine you being a child,¡± he said, sounding genuinely amused. ¡°I¡¯m trying, but I just can¡¯t form the image in my head. You¡¯re too¡­ you.¡±


    I ruffled my son¡¯s hair as I chuckled lightly, feeling a smile creep onto my face. How selfish I am, I thought morosely, the emotions in my chest so coiled and pained. I want him to be like this forever. I want him to look to me as he does now. But he can¡¯t.


    ¡°Perhaps the elders of our flock can give you a better vision,¡± I said with a gentle laugh. ¡°I was far from a problem child, my son, but neither was I easy to raise. I was quite¡­ headstrong and fiery. Those beyond me said I kept my head too far in the clouds to care for what was down below.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re still very fiery,¡± Toren muttered, abashed as he fixed his hair. ¡°When we¡¯re in my soul, all I can ever see you as is a rising dawn.¡±


    Memories of who I used to be bubbled to the surface, flowing upward like a deepscape drowner as their fingers breached the surface of the sea. Of that brash, volcanic nature that I¡¯d learned to harness in my plasma arts, honed by my brother¡¯s teachings and the ways of the pantheon as I sparred with their martial masters.


    That fire¡­ it wasn¡¯t what it used to be. Not since Agrona. I opened my mouth to speak, to say something that would change the topic. Something that would shift away from wounds that I wasn¡¯t ready to address.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fine night for a fire,¡± a voice said from nearby. ¡°Would you mind if I join?¡±


    Toren leapt to his feet, his mana burning as a person appeared across from us. Their features were masked slightly by the flickering flames, creating strange shadows in the glen. My son cursed as he summoned his power, caught entirely off guard by the sudden presence.


    But I froze, my thoughts grinding to a halt as I stared at the lounging figure. At his long, feather-red hair¡ªthe same shade as mine. At his loose, relaxed robes that seemed to sigh with the energy of the solemn forest. Their burning orange eyes and the featherstem runes that shone beneath them simmered with old wisdom.


    I didn¡¯t hear what Toren said. I only stumbled forward, crossing the fire without care as I approached the lounging man.


    He looked up at me. By all the asura in Epheotus, he could see me. He could see me.


    His eyes wrinkled fondly. ¡°Hello, Aura,¡± he said softly. ¡°You¡¯ve changed quite a lot, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Distantly, I was aware that Toren was watching us, realization thrumming across his mind. But I couldn¡¯t think about that now. I reached an arm out, burning tears simmering at the corners of my eyes as I tried to touch the man I called my brother.


    ¡°Mordain,¡± I exhaled like a tragic song, my voice trembling. I wanted to say something else. Something more. About how I was sorry it had taken me so long to return to my family. How I was sorry I¡¯d abandoned him and our Hearth. How I¡¯d missed him for so, so long.


    I¡¯d rehearsed what I would do and say for months. For over a year as I¡¯d slowly grown to know and love my new son. One day, I was certain I would return to our home. But the speech I¡¯d prepared in my mind fell apart like molten glass seeping through unsteady feathers as all abandoned me.


    My brother stood slowly, the patriarch of the Asclepius Clan burning starkly against the grim shadows around us. He held out his arms to me, his eyes soft and inviting.


    And suddenly, I remembered. I wasn¡¯t flesh and blood any longer. I was a ghost, a phantom. A shade. A shadow on the wall. There was only one in this world who could feel my touch, and I theirs. And Mordain, for all his power, was not Toren.


    My lips trembled as I retreated slightly, feeling ashamed. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to,¡± I said weakly, feeling my emotions crack. ¡°I am a ghost. A wisp of flame. I am dead, brother. You cannot¨C¡±


    My brother laughed, the same laugh he¡¯d always had since childhood whenever he thought I had missed some sort of point or done something slightly foolish. It wasn¡¯t condescending, as one might expect. It was a gracious sort of sound.


    And then his arms wrapped around me¡ªand I could feel my brother¡¯s heartfire pulsing as he held me softly.


    And I wept. Tears of fire trailed down my cheeks as uncountable years of loneliness and solitude burned away under this simple, familial embrace. I remembered the days when I was a chick amidst the Starbrand Sanctum as my older brother protected me from all that would harm me. I remembered how his steady hand and wise words helped me choose what was best for me.


    ¡°Welcome back, Aura,¡± he said softly into my ear as I cried. ¡°It¡¯s been far too long.¡±

 Chapter 260: A Note in the Symphony

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I watched in a mix of guarded fear and surprise as Aurora embraced the stranger, weeping from the depths of her soul. The splash of her tears on his cream-colored robes sizzled slightly, contrasting the sounds of her soul-deep emotions that radiated over our bond like fire.


    Very, very rarely did I feel such overwhelming emotion from my bond. I felt panic and fear for a moment at how fast this person had managed to get close to me without triggering any of my senses.


    Sonar Pulse didn¡¯t even register him until he was right next to me, I thought, keeping a ways away from my bond as she bled her sorrow and loneliness. I¡¯d gotten in the habit of keeping my echolocation spell always active, binding the pulses of sound magic to my heartbeat so that I¡¯d always have a perception of the people around me. And his heartfire and intent¡­


    I could sense none of them. They were utterly blank to my perception.


    Yet even as I acknowledged all of these things, my panic and fear began to settle as I recognized the person embracing my mother.


    I¡¯d only met one asura before this, but Mordain Asclepius was nothing like Agrona. He didn¡¯t make my head throb and my body tremble from fear. Though I could sense no distinct mana or heartfire from him, there was a sort of¡­ resonating warmth that seemed to flow from him into the very air.


    My bond and her brother seemed entirely lost in their reunion for a time. I thought I saw a tear blurring at the edge of the Lost Prince¡¯s eye, but when he blinked, it was gone.


    I worried so much about what would happen when I reached the Hearth, I realized, feeling slightly guilty, that I didn¡¯t consider how my mother would feel. What it would be like for her.


    A slight smile stretched over my face as the shade of my mother was comforted. I didn¡¯t know how Mordain could see her, nor how he could even hold her. But that didn¡¯t worry me.


    Too long had I been the only one to see my bond, to hold her and give her support.


    Finally, Aurora let her arms slacken around her brother¡¯s back. He gently pushed her away, his breath shuddering. For an instant, I thought I felt a mote of his intent, before he leashed it back underneath hidden wings.


    ¡°You never were one to cry, Aurora,¡± he said softly, firmly holding her shoulders as he looked down at her shade appraisingly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that you need to.¡±


    Aurora laughed, a raspy sound that was beautifully ragged from her happy tears. ¡°I have known more joy and sorrow in the past year than we saw in an age, brother,¡± she pressed out. ¡°I worry that I might not be who you once knew.¡±


    Mordain chuckled lightly, before embracing his sister once more. His hands clenched around her body protectively, and it was his turn to hug her tight. ¡°We are phoenix. Change is in our nature. No matter who you are, I won¡¯t stop loving you.¡±


    Aurora turned slightly, her tear-streaked face, lighting up with a smile fit to raise the sun once more from its slumber. She looked at me, her phantom eyes flashing. ¡°Brother, there¡¯s someone I need you to meet,¡± she sniffled.


    Mordain turned to me, tilting his head in the exact same way Aurora did as his burning orange eyes roamed over me. He still bore a slight smile on his face, and though his eyes were welcoming, I got a sense of hesitance from him.


    I shifted uncertainly, before raising my hands together in a standard martial salute. Aurora had grilled me on a lot of Asclepius traditions on our bare moments of downtime as we approached the Hearth, and this was the traditional bow of respect of an asura to a clan patriarch.


    I began to bow, but Mordain shook his head. The glowing orange runes beneath his eyes¡ªthe exact same kind that appeared beneath mine whenever I engaged my Acquire Phase¡ªflickered slightly. ¡°There is no need for that between us, nephew,¡± he said, neither sharply nor softly. ¡°I¡¯m still wondering from earlier, though. You may not have slain the Phoenix Wyrm, but you honored it well. Am I free to partake around this fire?¡±


    I stopped hesitantly, recognizing what this was. The Hearthrite of the phoenixes. If I allowed Mordain to eat around my fire, then he was under my ¡®protection,¡¯ and he was oathbound not to hurt me in any way. A subtle pact of community.


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Of course,¡± I said, nodding to the fire where I¡¯d been cooking slices of Phoenix Wyrm meat. ¡°Though I¡¯m not the best cook, and I didn¡¯t have much room for spices in my dimension ring.¡±


    ¡°I never found the time to teach Toren the arts of luxury cuisine,¡° Aurora said quickly, a bit of embarrassment radiating over our bond. ¡°I have shown him how to honor fallen prey in the traditional way, of course. He will not be found lacking.¡±


    Mordain chortled slightly, his shoulders shaking as he slowly set himself down cross-legged around the fire. ¡°It¡¯s no matter, Aura,¡± he said, sighing in contentment as he lounged on the ground. ¡°You know I was never the best cook, either.¡±


    Hesitantly, I set myself down across from Mordain, crossing my legs as I looked at him uncertainly. His taunt from Rahdeas shifted in the back of my mind, leaving me wary of getting burned.


    ¡°While I¡¯m not a good cook,¡± I said, looking at the slices of meat as they neared perfection, ¡°I like to think I¡¯m not bad, either. You won¡¯t be disappointed, Mordain.¡±


    Mordain shrugged nonchalantly. ¡°If your bond told you anything about me, you¡¯d know that I wouldn¡¯t judge a young asura for such a thing. But that¡¯s beside the point, Toren. I¡¯m here to make sure you make it to your home safely, because too often falcons fly high and forget that cats sometimes lurk on the ground.¡±


    Aurora¡ªwho had been fidgeting slightly as she watched us interact¡ªlooked at Mordain with a furrowed brow. Then her eyes narrowed, her martial robes flaring with power. ¡°We were followed?¡± she said sharply, divining the Lost Prince¡¯s hidden meaning with lightning speed. ¡°But I made certain that my son covered his traces. The undead Scythe could not have followed us.¡±


    Mordain chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re too quick, Aurora. I almost let myself forget how you won¡¯t let me have my hidden words.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t a Scythe following you, sister. You caught the attention of someone far more dangerous, which was partly why I sent my message when I did.¡±


    A cat, I thought, leaning forward as I noted Mordain¡¯s focus on that word. My eyes narrowed as my blood chilled in my veins. Wasn¡¯t there an asura who could shapeshift into a cat? One who was tasked to oversee all the ¡®lessers?¡¯


    Mordain turned to look at me, his expression less strained than it was before. Still, his eyes had something I couldn¡¯t really read. As we locked gazes, I felt a sort of¡­ trembling resonance shudder across my soulspace. ¡°You¡¯re quick to catch on, Toren Asclepius,¡± he said sadly. ¡°Windsom has always been a plague on these lands and peoples, and you¡¯ve managed to draw the attention of some very dangerous people with your actions recently. I intervened soon enough to waylay any chance of the Hearth¡¯s discovery, but it is worth a mention regardless.¡±


    I thought of how I¡¯d snapped Olfred¡¯s tether. My confrontation with Aldir Thyestes, and the burning all-encompassing eye.


    I leaned back slightly, filing this information away as I inspected the skewer holding the phoenix wyrm meat. I¡¯d been in this world for far too long and had far too many close encounters with death to be deeply rattled by this. But still, the implication that I¡¯d nearly led Windsom to the Hearth made me darkly irritated.


    ¡°I guess I have drawn the attention of some dangerous people,¡± I said after a moment, hoping my words didn¡¯t sound too bitter as I thought of Mordain¡¯s letter. ¡°But that¡¯s par for the course considering my plans.¡±


    Aurora looked between us, a slight sadness radiating over our bond as she sensed the tension between me and her brother. Her face of sunshine fell slightly, the woman seeming to wilt.


    Mordain¡¯s eyes flicked to the shade near imperceptibly as she seemed to darken, then back to me. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ¡°Regardless of all that,¡± the asura said dismissively, ¡°We of the Hearth will have to show you how to cook. It¡¯s a useful skill, one I¡¯m certain you¡¯ll exceed at,¡± he offered like an olive branch.


    I snorted. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that,¡± I said, taking the metaphorical peace offering. ¡°I never was a good cook in my previous life.¡±


    Mordain rolled his eyes, picking up one of the skewers and inspecting the smoking meat. ¡°Speaking of which, you do know that ¡®par for the course¡¯ is not a saying of this world, yes?¡±


    I blinked, noticing my slip. Most people didn¡¯t pick up on those, but Mordain could see further in ways I didn¡¯t really understand. It would probably drive me mad if I tried to figure out how he knew about my reincarnation.¡°You don¡¯t have golf in the Hearth?¡± I prodded. ¡°You seem like the exact kind of person to enjoy it.¡±


    Mordain raised a single orange brow. ¡°Is that an insult, or a compliment?¡±


    A smirk stretched across my lips. So there were limits to his sight? Brilliant. ¡°Yes,¡± I responded, feeling self-satisfied.


    The Lost Prince simply rolled his eyes, this time more exaggerated than the first, before taking a bit of the phoenix wyrm meat from the skewer. He tossed it up, before catching it in his mouth with casual ease. He observed the skewer critically when he swallowed. ¡°I think you might be right, nephew. It will be a long time before your cooking skills are anything noteworthy. Something we share in common, then.¡±


    Aurora squawked slightly beside me, settling down and glaring at Mordain. ¡°That isn¡¯t fair, brother,¡± she snapped, grasping my shoulders firmly. ¡°Toren is fit to accomplish anything he sets his mind to. He is a prodigy worthy of the greatest station in our clan.¡±


    ¡°You speak as if you are an ancient Malleus smith and he your Fury,¡± Mordain said playfully. ¡°Have you grown more arrogant in the time since we¡¯ve last met?¡±


    My mother huffed, shooting her brother a very unAurora-like glare. ¡°Please, Mordain. A Deinos smith made every bit of armor and weaponry for their Fury. Toren¡¯s only ever forged his own.¡±


    A Malleus smith? I wondered absently, missing a great deal of context. I tentatively raised my hand. ¡°And, uh¡­ Mind if I ask what a Malleus smith is?¡±


    Aurora blinked, looking down at me. ¡°Ah, just an old tradition in one of the old city-states of the titan asura. A master smith would deem himself Malleus, and craft weaponry for a dedicated champion.¡±


    ¡°The Fury,¡± Mordain nodded sagely. Something complicated flashed in the depths of his eyes. ¡°A shame that the practice ended after Kezess¡¯ rise. The titans forge for their clans now instead.¡±


    It belatedly occurred to me how much context I¡¯d almost always be missing whenever I spoke with the members of the Hearth. They knew all about Epheotus and its customs, and had a shared history that I simply lacked.


    It¡¯s fine, I repeated to myself for the dozenth time. It¡¯s just like meeting the inlaws. If the inlaws were nigh immortal gods who could level continents. No pressure.


    I pulled a bit of meat off my skewer with my telekinetic emblem, then let it settle in my mouth as Aurora hovered protectively behind me. When I tasted the meat, my face fell a bit.


    With all the mana inside and the way it was cooked, it should have a lot of innate flavor, I thought with annoyance. But somehow I¡¯ve managed to not bring that out. Somehow.


    Mordain and my bond continued to talk for a short while as we settled into eating around the simmering fire. They didn¡¯t really talk about anything of importance, just reminiscing and testing and teasing at old memories.


    I could sense Aurora¡¯s worry and fear over our bond with every word, nearly as great as her hope. She worried that she¡¯d changed. She worried how I would be accepted by the Hearth. She had so many worries that I hadn¡¯t even realized she¡¯d carried. I¡¯d been too wrapped up in mine.


    But as she chatted with Mordain, seeming more elated and emotive than I¡¯d ever seen, I felt my world-weary soul drifting toward something fond.


    ¡°I instructed him on the proper form of Hidden Talon early on,¡± Aurora said proudly. ¡°Toren used it to great effect on his enemies in the short time he has been under my tutorship. I can say with certainty that his use of the Distracting Wing rivals that of our greatest clanmembers.¡±


    The way my bond puffed out her chest and her words burned with pride was unlike anything I¡¯d ever seen from her. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, holding me tight as she smiled at her brother. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said slowly, coughing into my fist. I felt a bit like a child who¡¯d been brought along to a ¡®bring your kid to work day¡¯ from my previous life as Aurora showed me off to her brother. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have gotten as far as I did¨Cor really anywhere at all¨Cwithout Aurora¡¯s help. But her martial arts are the core of my fighting style.¡±


    I never really used the technical terms for the styles Aurora taught me despite her insistence. They felt over-the-top and flamboyant most of the time, but Mordain took it in stride.


    Mordain nodded slowly, crossing his arms leisurely behind his head and leaning back slightly. ¡°A good thing, sister,¡± he said appraisingly. ¡°But the combination of Hidden Talon and Distracting Wing leaves the user weak to attacks from the side, especially from a more experienced martial artist. I¡¯ve told you this before, of course, but I never got to hear your solution.¡±


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    Aurora smiled again. Not the warm, soft smile I was so used to or the motherly expression that had been stamped deep in my soul. But the passionate grin of someone engaged in something that they loved. ¡°Indeed, your words bear truth. To this end, the Distracting Wing technique I taught my son is more derivative of Swooping Feather with elements of warding rather than simply hiding.¡±


    Mordain laughed slightly, leaning back more. ¡°Leave it to you to improve on millennia of martial tradition, Aura. You¡¯ve still got that fire deep inside.¡±


    At those words, however, my bond¡¯s smile slipped from the ecstatic and joyous one she displayed. Her eyes darted down to me, her hand massaging my shoulder as a bit of melancholy overtook her earlier happiness.


    I frowned, looking up at my bond in worry. Aurora¨C


    ¡°Worry not, Toren,¡± she chided over our bond, ruffling my hair. ¡°It has simply been¡­ far too long since I felt unburdened enough for joy.¡±


    ¡°That fire was not extinguished,¡± the phoenix shade said aloud, the joyous atmosphere darkening slightly. ¡°But that was not for lack of trying, Mordain.¡±


    The Lost Prince removed his arms from behind his head, lowering them and settling them in his lap as his face was overcome with shadow and sorrow. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Aurora,¡± he said, his voice a deathly whisper. ¡°I did not¡­ did not foresee what would happen to you. Whether that be because of something Agrona Vritra did to obscure his actions from my abilities, or my own failings¡­ I cannot ever do anything to truly mend what I let happen to you.¡±


    Aurora wrapped her phantasmal arms around me from behind, using the anchor of our bond to draw what heat she could. She buried her face in my hair, and I heard her inhale a shuddering breath.


    I raised a hand, holding Aurora¡¯s delicately as she relived memories of darkness and untold pain. I massaged my finger along her translucent skin, sending my hope and warmth and comfort over our bond.


    I¡¯m here, Aurora, I thought to her, closing my eyes and trying to let her know that she wasn¡¯t alone. And Mordain is, too.


    The air was still around us as my bond let those repressed emotions of hers flow. It wasn¡¯t something she always knew how to do. No, this was something akin to my meditation technique that let me reach my soul. Something she¡¯d learned from me.


    Acknowledge your emotions, and let them flow, I thought as my bond¡¯s feathered hair flowed across my chest in light-splitting waves.


    Mordain didn¡¯t watch for long. Even though I could not sense his intent, I could taste his guilt as he turned his head away, unwilling to look his sister in the eye.


    ¡°It is done, brother,¡± Aurora finally said, burning tears sizzling across my decimated clothes. ¡°You could not have known what awaited me as the Asclepius¡¯ envoy. The Lord of the Vritra followed every protocol, even sharing the Hearthrite. But when his betrayal came, I had never suspected it. Only when I languished in his dungeons did I recognize my folly.¡±


    Mordain didn¡¯t respond, staring into the fire.


    ¡°And it was I who volunteered, so soon after my Andravhor left this plane,¡± she said softly. Aurora¡¯s hands massaged mine, finding comfort there. ¡°It was my decision to take the offer and travel.¡±


    A tense silence permeated the slight clearing as the fire slowly died. Mordain only stared at the embers, his face cast in shadow. ¡°I will try to ensure it never happens again,¡± he said sadly. ¡°I see much when I look at you, Aura. But¡­ but I can¡¯t let myself look further. It burns me to stare too long. And all I can do¡­¡±


    Mordain shook his head, then stood slowly. ¡°Regardless, our home is close. Come, Toren and Aurora Asclepius. It¡¯s time you met your family.¡±


    ¡ª


    The dark tunnel we walked through was made of simple, packed earth. I felt strangely compressed and contained as I strolled behind Mordain. The lack of the sky made my metaphorical wings quiver with the feeling of being trapped.


    ¡°Do the others know of my arrival?¡± Aurora finally asked from where she walked at my side. She didn¡¯t seem as nervous as she¡¯d been before, but that was more from emotional exhaustion than a true lack of worry. ¡°It has been a long time since I have seen my family. Soleil, Roa, Sundren, Lithen¡­¡±


    My bond trailed off, her fists clenching at her sides. ¡°And my son. Chul.¡±


    Mordain slowed in his step, looking back at the phoenix shade. His eyes glowed with light as he thought of what to say. ¡°They know a little, sister,¡± he said softly. ¡°When I became certain that you yet lived, I sent out my message and informed the rest of the clan. Soleil, Sundren, and all the others should be waiting in the Sunswept Gardens.¡±


    The Lost Prince tilted his head, slotting his hands into the belt of his robes. ¡°And Roa doesn¡¯t go by that nickname much anymore, though. Upon your presumed capture and death, she took up her full name at last. We call her Aurora of the Vine now. In remembrance.¡±


    My bond went silent, running through these thoughts and more. But I spoke up next. ¡°Does Chul know?¡± I asked, feeling strangely awkward as I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ well, I¡¯ve been looking forward to meeting him. I¡¯ve heard a lot about my brother-to-be.¡±


    Mordain smiled slightly. ¡°Chul knew something of your survival,¡± he said, turning to look forward. ¡°About you, though? He didn¡¯t know much at all. I imagine he would be¡­ surprised.¡±


    I frowned, feeling something off about the way Mordain spoke. I opened my mouth to question more, but my bond was faster. ¡°How is he, brother?¡± she said in a small voice. ¡°He must be a young asura now. A man grown. Does¡­ Did he mourn me? He¡¯d just lost his father when I left, and then¡­¡±


    Fear and guilt radiated like hot iron through my bond with Aurora. I remembered the story she¡¯d told me so long ago; that she¡¯d practically run from the Hearth after Andravhor¡¯s death. She¡¯d left a young Chul behind without any parents due to her inability to process her husband¡¯s passing.


    Mordain was silent for a long, long time. So long that Aurora¡¯s step began to falter behind me as she withdrew deeper and deeper into herself.


    ¡°Chul never gave up hope in you, Aurora,¡± he finally said. ¡°When you did not return at the designated time, we worried for a long time. But soon, that worry turned to grief and sorrow. To mourning one we thought destined for the Beyond in our hearts. But your son never gave up hope.¡±


    Mordain paused in his step for a moment. ¡°He showed us the folly of clinging to our perceptions, I suppose. He was right about your survival. He never despised you, Aura. We never did.¡±


    We walked in silence for the next twenty minutes. Though Aurora had no heart in her chest, I could feel the swell of warmth and relief deep in her soul at the confirmation that Chul did not despise her for her mistakes.


    And finally, we arrived before a set of grim doors. They were small, barely seven feet tall. Yet the stylized phoenix emblazoned onto the black wood shimmered with light the same color as the runes of my Acquire Phase. Vines stretched down from the ceiling, brushing against the wood with leaves the color of autumn fire.


    I paused at the edge, feeling a lump building in my throat. Beyond these doors were the phoenixes of the Asclepius Clan, long fled from Epheotus after the revelation of Kezess¡¯ genocide of the djinn. For over a year I¡¯d been aware of this place in the back of my mind. Aurora¡¯s very purpose in reincarnating me initially had been to draw me to this place so she could warn her clan of Agrona¡¯s plans.


    That had changed, of course. My bond¡ªmy mother¡ªhad shifted in her goals as she placed what little faith she had yet burning in my small lesser form. And against all odds, we had arrived here.


    I took a deep breath, feeling how the ambient mana flexed and churned with my trembling emotions. I reached out a hand, taking Aurora¡¯s for a moment as she stared at the doors. I squeezed it for a moment, finding solace in the smooth texture of her palm.


    Mordain seemed to sense that we both needed a moment to center ourselves because he waited simply at the doors, letting my eyes trace the beautiful filigree and unnaturally black wood.


    I released Aurora¡¯s hand, feeling just a bit stronger as I squared my shoulders. Without another word, the phoenix raised a hand, pressing it into the doors.


    Then he pushed it open, like the lid of a chest swinging open. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Or Pandora¡¯s Box, I thought, squinting slightly as light streamed through. Bearing hope at the very bottom.


    The Prince of the Asclepius Clan strode forward casually, his loose cream-colored robes swaying as I stepped behind him. I followed after him with jilted steps as I felt my heartrate rising traitorously, my anxiety threatening to overflow.


    We found ourselves in a twenty-foot square room with marble walls. To the left, a towering mirror of the small doors we¡¯d just exited stood strong and imposing. On our right, another set of smaller doors.


    When Arthur visited the Hearth, I thought, trying to use something familiar¡ªlike thinking of The Beginning After the End¡ªto center my racing heart and sweaty palms, he came through that door after passing through a dungeon. One with an emperor scourge.


    I turned around, and was surprised to see that the door we¡¯d entered had vanished entirely. Only marble greeted my gaze instead of a small set of dark doors.


    ¡°The nature magic pervading this place allows passages in and out to dynamically form for those who are attuned to the Hearth¡¯s magic,¡± Mordain said simply. ¡°I¡¯ve chosen to take us close to the place where all the others are waiting.¡±


    And I couldn¡¯t sense the nature magic, but the sheer quantity and quality of the ambient mana around me was like night and day compared to outside. Though the concentration of mana far in the Beast Glades outstripped that of the wider continent, it was still as if I¡¯d stepped straight into a sauna as the purity of it all caressed my senses.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been to Taegrin Caelum, you know,¡± I said with a nervous laugh. ¡°But I don¡¯t think I was this nervous, even then.¡±


    Mordain patted my shoulder in a surprisingly friendly way. Beside me, Aurora¡¯s gaze was laser-focused on the final set of doors barring our path. She seemed to have forgotten how to even think.


    ¡°We cannot wait forever, Toren,¡± he said sympathetically, ¡°but we can take as long as you need to ready yourself.¡±


    I exhaled a shuddering breath, sharing one more look with Aurora. ¡°I¡¯m ready, Mordain.¡±


    The phoenix looked to Aurora, measuring her emotions a bit, before smiling softly. ¡°Very well then.¡±


    He strode toward the final set of doors, before pushing them open. I followed after Mordain as he led us down a pathway of gray marble, silver sconces, and snaking vines. The scent of fall leaves tickled my nose, swirling in tune with the ambient mana in a way that made me almost think of Seris¡¯ perfume.


    It smelt of home, in a way that called to my very blood. As the entwining spice of autumn wind and sweet cinnamon pervaded my very soul, I felt something in my veins sing in response.


    We walked for a time as I stared about the passageway in wonder. In Taegrin Caelum, I had been barred from staring and taking in my surroundings. But here, I gave myself the privilege of staring at every twisting silver vine and glimmering sconce.


    And then we finally reached the end of the passageway, where it opened up to a grand balcony.


    For a moment, Mordain blocked the path and I could not see past him. The light streamed across him, casting a long shadow that enveloped me and kept me contained.


    But then he stepped aside, a light smile on his face as he gestured forward.


    When I stepped in past him, my jaw threatened to gape as I stared at the scene before me. Aurora¡¯s strong hand rested on my shoulders as her shade stood behind me, the Unseen World wafting around us. The airy and tantalizing beauty of the gardens before me made my heart stop in my chest.


    ¡°The Sunswept Gardens,¡± Mordain said from beside me, though I struggled to hear him.


    The room before me was utterly enormous. Massive trees draped in dresses of silver bark stood tall and proud at every inch of the glade. Bright orange leaves absorbed light from hovering lights near the roof¨Ceach like tiny suns. Those globes drifted about like fireflies as they cast the gardens in light summer heat.


    I watched it from above, uncertain if I should feel detached or overwhelmed. Because far below, milling about the trees, were dozens of phoenixes, all speaking in quiet and soft tones.


    My eyes traced over them, noting the colors of their hair. Some had locks of a pure red, as deep as the strongest forest fire. Others bore shades of a deep gray or the smokey black of a withering campfire. Their heartfires rose like a lilting song to my ears, beckoning me forward at their familiar tunes.


    I left Mordain behind as I lifted into the air, the ambient mana itself seeming to barely restrain its excitement as I hovered off the marble balcony, before settling myself down and down and down. The sunlit grass bent beneath my feet as I finally reached the ground. Not far away, a peaceful stream meandered across the impossibly large gardens.


    Aurora¡¯s hand still held my shoulder as I strode forward, carried by a strange sense of Will. Deep inside my soul, I felt my Phoenix Will churn as it sensed familiar souls.


    I strode along a pathway that somehow felt right. My boots had never tasted the soft earth beneath my soles before, but as Aurora¡¯s emotions built and built, I knew the path I needed to take as I wove closer to my destination.


    And I finally arrived before them. Three dozen asura at least, with more gathering every second in the small clearing. Many stepped hesitantly forward, radiating curiosity over their intent. I was almost swarmed with the pressing effects of the mana, but for some reason, I could parse this easier. Filter it down and through my soul without suffering the crushing weight any other man would no doubt suffer.


    The air was silent as the gods of this world watched me questioningly. Those I saw seemed hesitant to approach as if they were afraid. I saw a few phoenixes opening their mouths, then closing them as they waited.


    They couldn¡¯t seem to see Aurora¡¯s shade¡ªat least not with the casual ease of her brother. All their eyes were focused uncertainly on me; no attention spared for the trembling shade behind me.


    I felt her grief and fear begin to surge as she realized this. As she internalized the truth of her nature as a ghost; a phantom spark of something once great.


    I gritted my teeth, feeling her pain. And I refused to let it continue.


    Wordlessly, I raised a hand. Heartfire the color of a waxing dawn flickered there as I called on the depths of my reserves, drawing gasps of surprise and curiosity from the many asura all around me. From my family.


    I pressed two fingers to my heart, feeling the paradoxically slow timbre of my pulse. And when I pulled it away, I drew a vein of pure life from my chest. The asura watched with anticipation, most seeming to sense something was about to happen.


    Then I settled my hand over Aurora¡¯s where it clenched my shoulder. I let the energy of my lifeforce flow through her, before it finally found purchase where her heart used to be.


    The world itself seemed to freeze in place as Aurora¡¯s shade became visible to all. I could sense no touch of a dragon¡¯s spell, but I could hear half a hundred heartbeats simply stop in their respective chests. Shock and awe and disbelief pulsed across me like the coronas of a dozen suns.


    And then it snapped as a few of the phoenixes walked forward, stumbling over their feet. And then more followed them, cascading inward like the collapse of a star.


    Aurora stepped out from behind me, her head darting everywhere as her family finally saw her. I sensed her emotions begin to break as a woman I didn¡¯t recognize reached my bond.


    This phoenix had deep green robes, setting her apart from the lighter colors of her peers. She was shorter than most, her hands trembling at her sides. I thought she looked young, and her burning orange hair barely brushed against her shoulders.


    ¡°Roa,¡± my bond said weakly, ¡°oh, you¡¯ve grown so¨C¡±


    The one my mother called Roa reached her first. My bond¡¯s words choked off suddenly as the phoenix hugged her tightly.


    It was as if a dam broke.


    Gradually, phoenixes crowded around my bond, wrapping her small, weeping shade in the world¡¯s greatest hug. I stepped back slightly, smiling, but then the first phoenix¡ªthe one my bond had called Roa¡ªlooked at me with a trembling lip as she separated ever-so-slightly from the swirling maelstrom of emotions.


    ¡°You brought her back,¡± she said, tears falling down her face. ¡°You brought Aurora back to us.¡±


    My words caught in my throat as more of the phoenixes began to focus on me. I felt small. Unworthy of the admiration I felt radiating over half a hundred intents. Their emotions carried on the wind like mine did, telling me perfectly of their passion.


    ¡°I¨C¡± I started, my eyes darting to where Aurora was still being held by another member of her family, ¡°I did, but¨C¡±


    And then I was pulled into an embrace by the weeping phoenix. I felt her warmth and gratitude over her intent as she clasped me in shaking arms that I knew could crush me like a grapefruit if they truly tried. But she held me gently, unwilling to let my comparatively frail physique crumple.


    Hesitantly, I returned the hug, feeling undeserving of the purity of the emotions directed at me.


    I didn¡¯t know how, but somehow the rest of the phoenixes managed to pull us all into some strange, complex group of hugs and disbelief and gratitude. My thoughts stuttered atop the sea of my soul, trying to maintain some sort of direction. And finally, the sheer weight of all the happiness around me broke through my barriers.


    I couldn¡¯t hold back the tears anymore as everyone else around me struggled to maintain their inverted grief. I began to weep in tune with the rest of them, my intent joining their happy song, one more note in the chorus. A hundred tears watered the glade of the Sunswept Gardens.


    In some way, I¡¯d always felt myself out of place. An intruder in this world, changing and altering and breaking things that I had no right to influence. A Discordant Note in a symphony already set. There was no room for Toren Daen in The Beginning After the End.


    But as the ambient mana itself carried the weight of a clan¡¯s worth of grief and sorrow and joy and relief, I found that I wasn¡¯t Discordant. No, the emotions I professed somehow fit perfectly into a groove I didn¡¯t know was waiting for me. That, too, flowed back to me, making something deep in me crack as I fell to my knees. I felt my very soul tremble deep in its foundations, drowning in wonder and beauty and family and home.

 Chapter 261: Shadows of the Soul

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Asclepius


    I sat amid the Sunswept Glade for a time, breathing in the swelling passion all around me. The intent of all the phoenixes had settled slightly in the wake of Aurora¡¯s reunion, and the press of bodies and warm emotions around me still made something in me creak.


    I heaved for breath, staring mutely at the ground beneath my feet. My eyes traced the curve of a blade of impossibly sharp grass as it bent from the weight of a teardrop. Whether it was mine or another phoenix¡¯s, I did not know.


    The phoenix with short hair and a dark green dress¨Cthe one who had finally stepped forward to talk with me¨Cknelt by my side alongside a few others. I didn¡¯t even know their names, but the interweaving of our intents made it feel like I¡¯d known them all my life. I thought I could almost feel their souls calling mine.


    Aurora¡¯s shade weakly pushed its way through the crowd of phoenixes, her head swiveling like an owl¡¯s as she looked at all her family. More and more were still arriving, but her burning suns couldn¡¯t hone in on whatever she was looking for.


    She knelt by me, abruptly pulling me to my feet and breaking me from my reverie. I almost fell, still feeling overwhelmed by everything swirling around me.


    ¡°Chul!¡± she beckoned out, her voice somewhere between ragged and joyful. ¡°Chul! Where is my son?¡±


    And suddenly, the intent of the phoenixes around us dipped away from the joy and happiness of reunion. With it came confusion and worry, and I felt my focus suddenly sharpening at the change.


    Aurora didn¡¯t seem to understand the intent, too enraptured with her reunion. ¡°He¡¯s here, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    Aurora, I thought, looking around at the members of the Asclepius Clan as they watched us with sad features and wincing grimaces. Something¡¯s wrong.


    ¡°Chul isn¡¯t in the Hearth any longer, Aura,¡± Mordain¡¯s voice echoed out sadly as he settled down onto the grass a little ways from us. ¡°When your truefeather showed signs of life once more, his fire began to burn hot again. I tried to convince him to stay for a time until I could be certain of your condition, but his heart was closed to my words, and I would not bar him his freedom.¡±


    Aurora froze, the Unseen wind in her hair abruptly stopping in its movement. Her eyes traced the gathered phoenixes again, searching and probing as if she could somehow prove Mordain¡¯s words wrong.


    ¡°He isn¡¯t here?¡± she whispered, seeming to shrink in on herself.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you when we arrived because I didn¡¯t want to sully your mood,¡± Mordain said sadly, walking through the murmuring crowd. ¡°But I will beckon him back now that you are here. You need not wait long, Aura. I promise.¡±


    The shade trembled, and I felt a strange sort of loss at the missed opportunity to meet my brother. I shifted slightly, then spoke up.


    ¡°If he isn¡¯t here, where is he?¡± I asked, worried about the implications of the young half-asura roaming about in Dicathen.


    ¡°From my last divination, Chul is currently traveling around the countryside of the land you call Sapin.¡± Mordain tilted his head. ¡°He¡¯s been striking at each and every rogue beast horde he could find, working to ensure none of the men and women of that land suffer any more tragedy.¡±


    Tragedy you caused, his eyes subtlely accused.


    Mordain¡¯s eyes flashed orange for a moment as he stared at me, the implications of his words making me exhale in annoyance. I felt my soul tremble in resonance.


    ¡°He¡¯s doing a good thing,¡± I responded, turning to Aurora as she slowly absorbed Mordain¡¯s news. ¡°I couldn¡¯t be there to stop it, but my brother can. He¡¯s using his power well.¡±


    Mordain slowly shook his head, seeming slightly disappointed. But before we could trade subtle barbs anymore, another stepped forward. They had a mostly bald head and a beard that almost looked like fire itself. ¡°Regardless of any of this, this occasion is worthy of celebration and joy. One we thought lost in our hearts has returned, and has brought another into our flock. Now is not the time for this.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Soleil,¡± another phoenix said¡ªthe same one who had hugged me first. She blinked a few times, her breath stuttering as she smoothed out her dark green robes. ¡°We must celebrate. We need to do something to mark this occasion!¡±


    She spun around slightly, finally spotting me. She strode forward sharply, grabbing me roughly by the shoulders. Her orange eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down quickly. ¡°We need to get you better clothes. Something fitting and not so disgusting!¡±


    I coughed in surprise, raising my hands in a warding gesture as the phoenix began to shift me about. Laughter rose around me from the phoenixes as I was subsequently carted off to the side. ¡°Hey!¡± I said aloud, trying to peer back at Aurora and silently pleading for her help. ¡°Do I get a say in this?¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t!¡± the young, short-haired phoenix chirped, her chin upturned. ¡°Lithen, help me! You know threads better than I do. We won¡¯t let another moment go by with this travesty of attire!¡±


    Another member of the Asclepius¡ªthis one tall and burly and with a solemn and stoic face¡ªinserted himself on my other side in this sudden abduction. He narrowed his eyes, casually grabbing my long, haphazard tail of hair and inspecting it as we went. ¡°You haven¡¯t washed, young blood,¡± he said, shaking his head with disappointment. ¡°Too greasy. Roa is right; you¡¯ve got to present yourself better.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been doing nothing but fighting for the past month!¡± I complained as I belatedly remembered how decimated my clothes had become. Silver-dressed trees passed by as I was slowly led away from the central glade. ¡°It¡¯s not exactly my fault!¡±


    A few other phoenixes fell into the procession around me as I got carried away. Aurora¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, a bit of her good mood returning as I was abducted by half a dozen gods and carted off to who-knew-where.


    ¡°Go with Lithen and Roa, my son,¡± Aurora thought to me warmly, smiling as I was carted away. The tether of lifeforce between us stretched unnaturally far for some reason I couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°They are your cousins of some variety. Get to know them.¡±


    I looked back at Aurora for a time, seeing the hope in her sunset eyes, before finally surrendering to the wave of chattering phoenixes as I was drawn into a nearby tunnel.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever got your names,¡± I finally said, my voice laced with faux-annoyance as the squadron of asura marched me away. ¡°Considering you¡¯re carting me off to who-knows-where, I¡¯d like to at least know the identities of my captors.¡±


    I winced as Roa slapped the back of my head lightly. ¡°We are your elders, Twinsoul,¡± she said playfully. ¡°But yes, you will have the grace to know our names. I am Aurora of the Vine, but¡­ I guess you can call me Roa. I was named after your mother.¡±


    The burly one grunted lightly. ¡°I¡¯m called Lithen,¡± he said, his eyes wandering as more phoenixes we passed gradually melded into the group like a school of fish. ¡°We¡¯ve been waiting for you for a long time, new blood.¡±


    The other phoenixes slowly introduced themselves. Sundren, Diella, Aubuen, and a few others. They each said a little about themselves, but almost universally they stared at my heart, their eyes twinkling and intents curious.


    The names swum around my head, but I cemented them with surprising ease. ¡°Well,¡± I said a bit sheepishly, ¡°I¡¯m Toren Daen. Spellsong. Twinsoul. Whatever you want to call me, I guess.¡±


    Roa bristled lightly. ¡°Toren Asclepius is a fine name,¡± she asserted, her steps confident. She slowed slightly, then stared back at me with a quizzical gaze. Her eyes snapped to my miscolored lock of hair¡ªthe one that streaked feather-red and faded to a purple-silver. ¡°But I do find myself curious.¡± S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There were a few murmuring agreements from the phoenixes around me, their intents wide and open to my senses. ¡°About what?¡±


    Lithen pushed his way forward as we reached a bend in the road. ¡°The Sculpting of your body is different from what we know,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°Usually, each successful Sculpting is celebrated in the Clan. Normally in a way that emulates the event and chosen path itself. But yours is¡­ strange.¡±


    I blinked, turning back to the other phoenixes who watched. Diella shrugged. ¡°It is pretty weird,¡± she said, brushing a lock of hair the color of campfire ash from her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m close to my next Sculpting. Only a hundred more years or so before I need to remake myself, and I¡¯ve been looking for some sort of inspiration. How did you do something so strange?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said slowly, finding my thoughts, ¡°it wasn¡¯t me that performed my Sculpting. I was¡­ in a dark place. And Aurora helped push me through it. She used a djinn bone dagger and a feather from her brother, but the process is¡­ lost on me,¡° I reluctantly admitted.


    Roa hummed, a noise that sounded remarkably like the undertones of a songbird¡¯s call. ¡°Your mother did something fascinating. Sculptings are only possible when the body and soul are on the brink of severance. And all of us have to work through the changes slowly over the course of decades,¡± she said. ¡°My specialty is in nature magic, you see. And from what I divine, the changes to your body were not incremental or a slow buildup. More like a sudden riptide, unlike any body-reformation I¡¯ve seen before.¡±


    I raised a hand, looking down at it as I inspected my body. Then, with a bare tug, I called on my lifeforce.


    Dawnlight flickered through my fingers as I stared at the light. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t deny the benefits of it. They were¡­¡± I trailed off as the intent of the phoenixes nearby all seemed to snap into focus, the procession halting abruptly.


    All of them¡ªevery single one¡ªwas staring mutely at the dawnlight misting through my fingers as if in a trance.


    ¡°You can control your lifeforce,¡± Sundren said, his voice belying his shock.


    I blinked, feeling uncertain. I knew that my control of my body¡¯s vital energy was unusual. Even visceral and primally gripping in a way Aurora claimed was like nothing she¡¯d seen from phoenix or djinn. But I¡¯d forgotten that for a while as I¡¯d grown so accustomed to its use.


    ¡°I can,¡± I said slowly. ¡°But my abilities with it are¡­ limited. My insight isn¡¯t what I want it to be.¡±


    Roa took my hand slowly, watching in awe as she brushed her fingers through the light. She shuddered lightly, the act strangely intimate in a way I couldn¡¯t really pinpoint. The other phoenixes inched closer, their hands touching mine as they brushed against my lifeforce. Hesitantly, I allowed more aetheric heartfire to flow from my fingers, bathing every pale hand as they ghosted over mine.


    They¡¯re so open with physical contact, I thought, restraining my slight discomfort with how ready the asura were to touch me, none really aware of what most humans would probably consider boundaries. It¡¯s strange.


    When the hands retreated, a few of those I¡¯d spoken to trembled lightly. Diella pulled her hand close to herself, her fingers shaking. She looked at the floor, her body heaving slightly. Sundren stumbled back a step, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes and his breath coming up short. He looked at me aghast.


    The other phoenixes generally fell away, only really seeming halfway-there. Their intent radiated a sudden, familiar sorrow that struck me like a hammer.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I apologized instinctually, feeling like I¡¯d done something wrong. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¨C¡±


    Roa abruptly pulled me into another confusing hug, sniffling slightly as we stopped in the hallway. ¡°No, we are sorry, young blood,¡± she said, her voice choking. ¡°We did not know.¡±


    Lithen laid a hand on my shoulder, keeping his eyes forward as the other phoenixes gradually hobbled away, their minds and emotions churning to my senses. I felt like I¡¯d driven them away. Done something obscene or horrid that implanted them with such grief.


    I hesitantly returned the hug, feeling confused and worried. ¡°Did I do something? I didn¡¯t mean to¨C¡±


    ¡°It is nothing, Toren. It is just¡­ very rarely are Bloodties so visceral. You have great insight into what it means to feel, and we did not expect to delve so deep.¡±


    ¡°Bloodties?¡± I echoed. Aurora had told me of those, where phoenixes dipped their fingers in the blood of those they cared for, drawing sensation, emotion, and knowledge from their lifeforces. It was usually done on the rare occasion of funerals as the flock shared their pain. But¡­


    My eyes widened as I connected the dots. My lifeforce wasn¡¯t like most phoenixes, and neither was I dead. But if I¡¯d just subjected these members of my new family to my memories or emotions¡­


    Before I could protest, Roa separated, taking me by the shoulder. She and Lithen began to walk with me alone, and I felt a strange knot of emotion in my stomach.


    By tradition, what was seen or experienced in a Bloodtie was never spoken of again after the event: only during. It was made to allow emotions to pass on and symbolically leave you as you grieved for another.


    I could ask what they saw in my soul just this once, but I realized I didn¡¯t really want to. I¡¯d experienced enough darkness that I didn¡¯t want to taint this space with shadow.


    We walked in silence for a time as I fell deep into my thoughts. We didn¡¯t see any more asura as we trailed along marble rooms with trailing silver sconces and auburn-leaved vines that shone like platinum, before we finally arrived at a specific suite.


    ¡°This is where I spend my days,¡± Roa said aloud, leading me into a small, homey room. Almost immediately, I was hit with innumerable different scents as the ambient mana warped and bent with each smell. I blinked as I tried to separate vanilla from cinnamon from chives and half a hundred others that were distinctly supernatural. A light layer of familiar mist coated the stone floor of the room, swirling and churning like fog overtop a lake.


    Roa didn¡¯t stop as she strode toward an ancient-looking desk made of black wood. Lithen took the opportunity to stroll to the side, before letting himself collapse onto a nearby bed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mess up my sheets!¡± Roa snapped at the bulky phoenix. ¡°You did that last time I had you in here, and it took me ages to reset the spellforms!¡±


    The phoenix groaned. ¡°I won¡¯t, I won¡¯t,¡± he dismissed. ¡°Just¡­ need time to think.¡±


    Roa paused for a moment, then got back to whatever she was doing at the desk. I worked my jaw, feeling awkward for whatever I¡¯d dumped into their minds.


    My eyes traced along the ground instead, noting the eddies of mist that dampened my senses and kissed my boots in a familiar way. ¡°This is Elshire mist,¡± I said wonderingly, finally latching onto something familiar. ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever see any so concentrated. Did you take it from the Elven Forest?¡±


    ¡°That I did not,¡± Roa said, turning around as she held something in her hands. A dark green vine with silver blossoms that looked vaguely familiar breathed little swirls of mist from each petal, creating a cascading fall of water vapor that made the phoenix in front of me look truly ethereal. It sat snugly in a gilded pot, the vine twisting in and around itself in a rhythmic way. ¡°In truth, the Hearth concocted the Elshire mist with this remnant of great power. It is still my greatest work to this day. Never before had another divined a way to use the remnants of a Catastrophe in such a way.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°The remnant of a Catastrophe?¡± my thoughts snagging on that tidbit of info. ¡°Like, Brother Fire? Mother Earth? Father Sky, and¨C¡±


    ¡°Sister Nature, yes!¡± Roa said animatedly, pushing the little potted plant toward me. Instinctively, I took a step back as the vine quested outward with a life of its own. ¡°Though not really her, either. Just what is left.¡±


    Distantly, I recalled the story Barth had told me a couple of months ago. Where the story of Geolus¡¯ fall to Arkanus Indrath was told in fantastical prose and I became aware of other beasts of mana.


    Hesitantly, I allowed my hand to hover near the plant. The silver petals and bright green vines reminded me of something, but for the life of me, I couldn¡¯t place my finger on what. ¡°It¡¯s so¡­ small,¡± I said in amazement as the little vine curled around my finger. I could hear a slight pulse of lifeforce radiating from it. If I hadn¡¯t been told otherwise, I would have never guessed this was some sort of¡­ legacy of a Catastrophe.


    ¡°This is all that the Hearth has left,¡± Roa said. ¡°There were pieces we left behind across the Beast Glades and Elshire Forest, hoping that they would be able to find some sort of path forward or grow as needed. Some acted as protectors for hidden glades, too. But now¡­¡±


    I blinked as the pieces finally clicked into place. ¡°The Elderwood Guardian,¡± I said, my eyes widening as I finally remembered where I¡¯d seen these colors. When I¡¯d healed Tessia Eralith¡¯s beast core. ¡°That¡¯s a remnant of a Catastrophe!¡±


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    Roa slowly withdrew the potted plant, flexing her mana in a way I couldn¡¯t follow as she passed energy to and from it. ¡°Why yes, I think the humans and elves of the land did stumble upon a few of what we left behind. But it¡¯s not anything noteworthy, unfortunately. The parent Catastrophe¡ªwhile not slain like the other walking disasters of Epheotus¡ªwas divided and split into countless pieces. No single piece could rise above the others. Not really.¡±


    Roa¡¯s eyes darted to the ring on my finger. ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to create some thread from the offshoots here for a Sculpting gift, considering you never got one¡ªbut our little ¡®remnant¡¯ feels like there¡¯s something else she needs to really make things nice. Something in your dimension ring.¡±


    I blinked. Lithen finally pulled himself from the sheets, stumbling over. ¡°Yeah. The plant wants whatever is in there for its ¡®art.¡¯ It¡¯s always wise to listen to the plant.¡±


    Roa glared at Lithen, whose shoulders were drooping slightly. He had a suddenly tired air about him. ¡°The ¡®plant,¡¯ as you called it, is going to make Toren garb worthy of his Asclepius name. And you are going to help me, too, you ungrateful lout.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Lithen said, raising his hands in submission. ¡°You¡¯ve got it.¡±


    Hesitantly, I withdrew a few items from my dimension ring, one at a time. The phoenix wyrm beast cores. A few of my remaining rations. The black and white pelts of the echo vespertion and timestop yeti settled across my arms. I raised a brow at the phoenix, thinking this was probably what she was wanting.


    She shook her head, her short orange hair swaying. I furrowed my brow, trying to think of what else it could be. Then I blinked, remembering that there was one other item inside my dimension ring. A few of them.


    I withdrew the djinni relic from my ring, alongside a few scuffed and damaged soulmetal feathers that had been torn from Aurora¡¯s relic as she piloted it.


    The plant immediately reacted, twisting and churning in and around itself as if it sensed the relic.


    I mutely offered up the bronze shards to the waiting phoenix, who inspected them closely. Her eyes flashed, and I heard her heartfire pick up in rhythm slightly. ¡°This is¡­ an artificial Vessel?¡±


    ¡°Of a sort,¡± I said as Lithen took the remnants of the bronze metal, inspecting them closely as he murmured something under his breath. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a djinni relic. Something they made that my mother is able to use to interact a bit with the world.¡±


    Roa took the bronze metal brooch, holding it lightly as she turned it over with delicate fingers. I felt a question building in my gut as she did so, the effort of holding it back tearing at me as she reverently observed the feather.


    I remembered the quiet desires buried deep in my bond¡¯s soul. The ones she tried to keep hidden from me, for fear that I would feel more guilt about her true feelings.


    Long ago, I¡¯d lamented that I felt Aurora¡¯s state as a mere spirit was just another prison. She¡¯d honestly told me that she felt more free than she had in uncountable years.


    But that didn¡¯t mean she was free.


    ¡°Is it possible to make a more permanent Vessel?¡± I blurted, my fists clenching at my sides. ¡°One that is flesh and blood and isn¡¯t just a shell?¡±


    The room fell silent for a time after my words. I thought I could hear the mist as it brushed against my tattered leggings.


    ¡°To create a true flesh-and-blood Vessel¡­¡± Roa¡¯s words petered out as she looked at me, seeing far too much with those orange eyes. ¡°Toren, what do you know of the soul?


    I was silent for a moment, digesting the question. It was one that most philosophers in my previous life would have struggled to answer, and I was no different.


    ¡°If the Vessel is the body, then the soul is a balloon anchored down by strings of heartfire,¡± I finally decided on, ¡°But that balloon can swell and shrink with insight and knowledge. It can deflate and pop, but it can also be pulled on currents of air around it towards others. The air inside that balloon is everything that makes us us.¡±


    It was far from a perfect analogy, I knew. One of the most fundamental experiences I knew was the pure intent I¡¯d known in the Sea of my Soul. Where the line between thought and existence became blurred by desire.


    Language was designed to convey understanding. But there were some things that language would never truly capture.


    ¡°A good perspective, if a flawed one,¡± Roa allowed. ¡°Truthfully, I suspect you understand the soul differently than most all of us in the Hearth. But it was the djinn who delved into the soul. Truly pried at Fate.¡±


    Roa casually waved her hand. Though I could sense no change in the ambient mana, I saw as a small tree rose from the ground. Autumn leaves and rich bark crowned its trunk as its roots dug lower and lower into the compact earth. Those leaves stretched upward like the morning stretch of a young child, each finger grasping for something. A split second later, a little burning ember rose above the tree like a star.


    Each of the autumn leaves reflected the burning light above it, absorbing the corona. I furrowed my brow, uncertain what this was supposed to mean.


    ¡°I asked about the soul, once. A woman named Yun-El showed me something akin to this and told me it was the truest representation of the soul she could understand.¡±


    I squinted, staring at the tree and sun as they seemed to draw at each other. I did not have an affinity for nature magic, but even this tree had heartfire in it. This felt significant. ¡°This is interesting,¡± I said slowly, sensing how life and mana coursed through the plant. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t answer my earlier question.¡±


    Roa hesitantly let the conjuration of nature magic and fire evaporate. She stared at me uncertainly for a time, and I got the distinct sense she wanted to talk about anything but what I¡¯d asked. I wondered how many distractions she¡¯d try to lay to divert my question.


    But the intensity of my focus compelled her.


    ¡°Do you know why you were able to be reborn in this world?¡± she finally pushed out, relenting under my gaze.


    I hesitated for a moment, feeling a sudden discomfort at the phoenix¡¯s words. I had only told Seris and Aurora that part of me was from another world, and to have that secret stated so simply made me feel unnerved. I didn¡¯t even really understand how Roa had divined this truth about me. Though I felt truly welcome around these asura in a way I really couldn¡¯t define, it was suddenly apparent once more that I was chatting casually in a room of what was the closest thing this world had to gods.


    I still have an aura of rebirth about my lifeforce, I reminded myself, taking a few seconds more to think. Thankfully, Roa seemed happy to let me do so. She isn¡¯t just¡­ casually tearing apart my mind.


    ¡°I am Twinsoul,¡± I finally responded. ¡°On this world and another, I had a mirror. A reflection in the Edicts of Aether that created a sort of symmetry. A gravity that allowed one soul to travel to another world.¡±


    Roa nodded slowly. ¡°The soul is a strange thing, Toren. It appears you have greater insight into it than many of our greatest already, but there is an overlap with Vesselcraft. And that is that a soul must fit a Vessel in a fundamental way if it is to reach any permanence. Yun-El explained it to me like this: the sun nourishes the branches, but the branches must know the sun.


    ¡°As one with parallel lives across worlds, the Vessel you bear now is a natural fit for both halves of your spirit. Your branches naturally received the light of your sun,¡± Roa continued. ¡°So your rebirth was simple and easy. But when it comes to your mother¡­¡±


    The phoenix nervously chewed on her lip, before her eyes darted to Lithen.


    The bulky asura gently set the collage of soulmetal down with careful clinks. ¡°Aurora¡¯s condition is not like anything I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± he said quietly. ¡°The mind is a shadow of the soul, Toren. And it is that shadow that drives and pushes our arts of rebirth as our Vessel falls towards singularity: our mana cores. Throughout the entirety of our Sculptings, our cores keep us bound to the physical plane. The feather in your core is proof of Aurora¡¯s physical death, Toren. It serves to anchor her spirit to you, I think. But that is the only reason she yet persists.¡±


    I felt my shoulders slump, my eyes drifting to the floor as a subtle thread of despair wove its way through my system. ¡°Then is there no way to make her whole again? To really give her a body she can call her own?¡±


    Lithen patted my shoulder. Half a dozen items weakly streamed back into the dimension ring on my left thumb as my hopes withered.


    Aurora loved the sky. There were few things she enjoyed more than flying, the sensation of wind beneath her feathers and the freedom it brought.


    And she was happy with piloting the djinni relic; at least, she said so. But in the deepest depths of our bond, I knew she felt otherwise. It was a better situation than before, but she couldn¡¯t feel. The closest thing we had was when she ruffled my hair or clutched me tight when she needed the comfort. But my mother was still bound as a shade with a hundred prisons reminding her of her death.


    The heartfire tether between me and my bond hummed slightly.


    ¡°If she found her original Vessel,¡± Lithen said, pulling me from my subtle grief, ¡°then there might be a chance with our knowledge. To really give her another life.¡±


    I smiled sadly as I looked at Lithen, my shoulders slumping. ¡°My mother¡¯s body decays in the depths of Taegrin Caelum itself,¡± I said sorrowfully. ¡°It might as well be a lightyear away.¡±


    Aurora Asclepius


    I walked for a time through the Sunswept Gardens, feeling light and airy in a way I had not known for an age. If I still bore a heart, I was certain that it would thunder with every single step. I imagined the bending of grass beneath my boots. The scents that I¡¯d once smelled constantly, that of autumn and sunshine and burning hickory. I could hear the babbling of Chul¡¯s stream not far away.


    Mordain and Soleil walked with me as well as I admired the trees of purest silver. Falling leaves might have phased through my phantasmal form, but if I thought deep enough, I could remember how they felt as they nestled in my hair.


    The Sunswept Gardens were our deepest attempt at mirroring our old home of Epheotus. It wasn¡¯t as grand as the Starbrand Sanctum, of course. I did not have the sense that a breeze was always beneath my tailfeathers, nor was I able to see the constant flittering lights of swirling fire mana that illuminated our old streets.


    But this¡­ this was more than enough. I let my eyes roam over everything, drinking it in.


    We strolled for a time, stepping through the gardens with learned grace. Half a dozen of my clanmembers watched and stared, and I shared heartfelt and tearful reunions with each and every one I could see. Mordain and Soleil allowed me my reunions in peace, smiling and helping me as I finally felt home again. Every now and then, I simply stopped, letting myself absorb the emotion as Toren had taught me. Really acknowledge each swell of joy and relief. Immerse myself in them.


    Despite it all, though, it couldn¡¯t last.


    Finally, we stepped into a different passageway. The marble darkened more and more as we strode down. The tether of heartfire connecting Toren and I frayed from the distance, then bled away.


    My brother could still see me, even as that tether vanished. His eyes saw much in this world and peered deep beneath its layers. He looked through times in unfathomable ways that no other Asclepius clanleader had ever managed as he learned under the last of the djinn.


    My attention shifted nervously to Soleil, one of the oldest members of the clan. He indeed had to focus for a time, his eyes staring at where my phantasmal shade trod. But eventually, he seemed to be able to see me again as he nudged his lifeforce.


    ¡°A strange thing,¡± he grunted. ¡°It seems I can only see you because of some connection between our souls. Connections that I can only sense when you are near.¡±


    I exhaled, feeling a measure of peace returning. They could see me.


    ¡°I have grown accustomed to being naught but a ghost,¡± I commented, staring forward. Then I hesitated, biting at my lip. ¡°I have¡­ worried about what might come when I finally reached home.¡±


    ¡°It is fortuitous that we can see, you, Aura,¡± Mordain said, pausing as he looked me over again. Something he did for my benefit, to make me feel seen. ¡°I made sure to call the members of our clan forth when I sensed your approach. But it seems I did not take into account your potential fears.¡±


    ¡°It is no worry, Mordain,¡± I said with a soft smile, remembering the warmth with which my brother had always treated me. All throughout our childhood, he¡ªthe eldest among us¡ªhad been the only one to truly support me. To encourage me to take a path of my own forging.


    Even if that path led me to pain.


    My brow furrowed as the dreaded subject matter loomed like a fanged basilisk in the dark. Mordain¡¯s earlier assertion that all of the clan had been gathered reminded me of something that was missing. ¡°I have not seen Evascir yet. Is he performing his duties¡­ elsewhere?¡±


    Evascir, resident titan forger of the Hearth, was an odd sort, for many, many reasons. He was the only asura not of the phoenix race to join us in our flight from Epheotus, and all in secret.


    Considering he had long since been Banished from the Grandus Clan, he was already an anomaly. Given no respite from his race after a failed creation of an artifact, he¡¯d been adrift and aimless till Diella¡ªone of our younger members of the Asclepius¡ªwelcomed him in in secret.


    ¡°Evascir is currently stationed in the city of Klethra, keeping his ear close to the ground,¡± Soleil muttered, confirming my suspicions. Considering that the wayward titan was not a phoenix and had no visible ties to any clan due to his Brand, he acted often as a spy for the Hearth within Epheotus itself. ¡°Dangerous rumors seep like the water of the Mighty Hosh through the Last Bastion. Rumors about what Lord Indrath¡¯s plans may be, and where the lesser¡¯s war may proceed.¡±


    I favored Soleil with a scowl, irritated by his use of the word lesser. I knew why he said as such: the wounds deep in his soul compelled him to cope in unsavory ways. But that was no excuse. ¡±They are not lessers, Soleil.¡± I recalled some of the painful sights I¡¯d witnessed in Alacrya, where even those I might have once deemed lessuran were simply¡­ people. It was discomforting. ¡°They are humans and elves and dwarves. That is a distinction that I have found is important.¡±


    ¡°They are lessers in strength,¡± Soleil muttered, keeping his eyes forward and refusing to meet my gaze. ¡°That is what matters.¡±


    I opened my mouth to retort, feeling emboldened by all I¡¯d had the grace to learn in this past year, but my brother cut me off.


    ¡°It would be well to measure your words, Soleil,¡± he said in that measured tone of his. Always laced with silver acceptance, but still firm. ¡°We both know why you are so insistent in your words, but times have changed. This can, and should, be discussed later: but now, there is more we need to deliberate.¡±


    I forced the rising fire in my stomach to settle at my brother¡¯s logical words. Where so many of our kind were slaves to our emotions, Mordain found the perfect balance between reason and passion. That ideal was why we followed him as a clan: out of respect, and not fear.


    We emerged into a familiar room. One of darkness and shadow, where a hundred and a half small pyres burned in dedicated sconces all around in a circular pattern. I watched each of the fires in their sconces, feeling sorrow and pain renew themselves in my heart.


    This was where the pyres were lit for the dead. When the heartfire of an Asclepius went out and would never be rekindled, those left behind lit an ember in eternal remembrance.


    Since the formation of the Great Eight, it had become rare that an asura was slain. More often, the oldest of us lost hold of their sense of self. The constant struggle to put one foot in front of the other with every passing day became too great a burden for their minds, and they just¡­ let go.


    Uncountable thousands more pyres burned in the Starbrand Sanctum. But this small haven of sorrow was still seared deep in my spirit.


    Are those pyres even lit, now? I wondered mournfully. Word says that the Avignis Clan¡ªour replacements in the Great Eight¡ªmoved the heart of their home to the Featherwalk Aerie. The Sanctum is now just¡­ a husk. An empty Vessel.


    My eyes traced over the fires, recalling familiar names as the sons and daughters of my clan burned in the back of my soul.


    But there was one that drew my attention first and foremost.


    ¡°I don¡¯t wish to burden you with your sorrows, Aura,¡± my brother said softly, walking toward where a single pyre flickered for me. ¡°But we must know what led to your current circumstances. I know some¡ªsome that I could glean through my sight. But not all.¡±


    I took a shuddering breath, my eyes locking on the truefeather that lay kindling just beneath the fire. The feather¡ªlong as an arm and brimming with heartfire¡ªtold the truth of my survival. ¡°It is a long story, brother,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Fit for the greatest of our clan¡¯s songs. I have seen much in this past year. Though much was taken from me, I have known that much more.¡±


    And so I told them of my arrival at Taegrin Caelum under guise. The way Agrona had taken me in with a grand welcome, sharing the Hearthrite. How we¡¯d spoken and bargained for several months as he tried to tease the location of my home from my lips.


    And when the High Sovereign had learned that I would never divulge the hiding place of my home, he had shown his true colors.


    I stared long at the fire of my feather, lost in the dreadful memories. Of the claws and decay and mindshearing horror. Of how every bit of my being was picked apart.


    And I had never been given the chance to fight it. The cowardly Vritra had poisoned my food, unwilling to give me the chance of honorable combat. And for uncountable years¡ªof a number I was still unsure¡ªI¡¯d languished in his dungeons.


    I shuddered slightly as I stared at my truefeather. Mordain settled a hand on my shoulder, and Soleil looked away.


    ¡°I learned of his plans, deep in the dark,¡± I whispered. There were patterns to some of his questions and desires as he tore through my mind. A throughline that revealed aspects of his plans, reinforced only by what Toren had revealed. ¡°He hopes to bring the Legacy to this world. To bind her to his whims and use her power to wrench Lord Indrath from his mountain throne.¡±


    The silence that pervaded the room made it feel even more like a graveyard for the gods. The flames about us seemed to dim.


    ¡°The Legacy¡­¡± Soleil said gravely, beginning to pace. His fire was always the bluntest, but when it was perturbed, it flared in equal measure. ¡°The insight compounded within that one, forbidden soul¡­ In the legends, it was already enough to nearly tear apart the world. The old stories of the Wraiths¡­¡±


    The old stories¡­


    Even in asuran folklore, knowledge about the Wraiths were slim and indistinct. Legends told of a warlike asuran race that ripped the life and insight from their foes and feasted on it in an unending cycle of misery and despair. And the Legacy was their greatest weapon, as so many hushed rumors told.


    But those tales were older than Epheotus itself. Hundreds of thousands of years had passed since the presumed existence of the so-called race of Wraiths. Only exaggerated tales and questions remained.


    And a deep, undying fear. A fear of the Legacy. The Singularity of Mana.


    ¡°We know the stories, Soleil,¡± Mordain said, his tone ever-so-slightly snapping. That was the only indicator of how my declaration had affected him. ¡°Fretting over Agrona¡¯s plans will only serve to make our steps hasty and uninformed.¡±


    I allowed my thoughts to drift away from the terrors of the unknown at my brother¡¯s words. He was right.


    ¡°I threw my soul to the wind,¡± I said quietly. ¡°After the Lord of Alacrya took something that he should have never taken. Truthfully, I did not know what would come of my aetheric arts. I did not truly understand what I was even attempting. I sought¡­ I don¡¯t know what I truly sought. What I hoped to find. But I think¡­ I found something that I needed.¡±


    ¡°You are going to call a Forum, aren¡¯t you?¡± Mordain said, his jaw clenched as he stared at my truefeather. ¡°That is why you are here, in the end.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± I said honestly. As an elder of the clan, it was within my right to demand a gathering of all members of the flock. ¡°I risked life, limb, and spirit to bring this message to those I love. And though I may enjoy this reunion for a time, there are greater things in play.¡±


    The room was silent for a time as this sank in. I didn¡¯t look at my brother, but I knew his underlying thoughts. Knew what he thought of my resolve.


    Before my brother could speak, however, another presence slowly entered the room. I turned, the melancholy coursing through my spirit evaporating ever-so-slightly as Toren appeared.


    He was clothed in loose robes that fit his broad shoulders nicely, and his long hair¡ªnow brushing his upper back¡ªhad been delicately washed and groomed, turning it into a curtain of golden-red. Though he normally tied back his hair, he let the locks hang naturally and unrestrained today. He looked more refreshed than I¡¯d seen him in a long time.


    Toren¡¯s eyes roamed over the fires, a solemnity passing through our bond. I had told him of this place, of course, and he recognized it for what it was.


    ¡°I dropped off the phoenix wyrm beast cores with Lithen,¡± he thought to me. ¡°And they¡¯re making some sort of clothing for me right now. How are you doing?¡±


    I settled an arm on Toren¡¯s shoulder, staring at my truefeather in turn. ¡°I plan to call a Forum soon,¡± I said aloud. ¡°To present what we know and demand a call for action. Our timeframe will not allow for anything more long-winded or the traditional routes.¡±


    The Forum was one of the old remnants of the integrated djinn. A mirror of their freehearings, where a single person could speak to the masses and be heard. My brother had given up sole authority in the Hearth to allow this unique form of group governance to bind our hearts in its stead.


    We honored those of our flock in eternal slumber through kindling fires. We honored the forgotten djinn as we carried their ideals of everyone having a voice.


    ¡°You recognize the dangers of this,¡± Soleil said sharply, stopping his pacing as he turned to face me. ¡°You only get three chances to air your desires and make your argument, Aurora, in the face of opposition and questioning. And if your call is rejected, then that is the Will of the Clan. You cannot change their minds, and you will be oathbound to acknowledge it. You will divide us, Aurora.¡±


    ¡°I know. This I know better than any other. But I came here ready to preach words of fire and call for action. I am certain that I will be understood.¡± I looked into Soleil¡¯s eyes, watching the man I¡¯d known for countless millennia. ¡°We of the Hearth have stood on the sidelines for far too long. But now, with what is coming, we cannot. We must make a stand. If not now, then soon.¡±


    I knew Soleil would try and push against us in this Forum. He was one of the greatest voices for isolation as the only option after the destruction of the djinn. Half the current measures of the Hearth were because of his stalwart efforts to keep us contained. He stared at me, his eyes burning and his fists clenched.


    Toren caught on quickly to the nature of our discussion. ¡°Aurora and I can attest to this on any stage,¡± he said, turning up his chin with determination. ¡°The horrors we¡¯ve witnessed¡ªthe horrors that pervade the world even now¡ªthey can¡¯t continue. And there is power in this place that can help stop it.¡±


    Mordain sighed, a sound that seemed to sap all of his life from his very soul. Though he bore no wrinkles, each shadow cast over the sharp lines of his face made him seem older than Geolus itself. ¡°You are young yet, Toren Asclepius,¡± he said, turning subtly as he faced the exit. ¡°I will inform the clan that a Forum is to be held to determine the future course of the Hearth. I hope you know what you are doing, sister.¡±


    Mordain plodded to the exit of the sanctum. He stood in the doorway for a moment, seeming as much a shade as I for the barest instant. He seemed to think for a moment, looking back at us and searching for something to say.


    But then he dismissed it all, leaving the room with heavy steps.

 Chapter 262: Two Fronts

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads


    Arthur Leywin


    I stared impassively at the corrupted mana beast, my hands locked behind my back. Its cage rattled and shook as it tried in vain to lunge at the crowds. The hot summer breeze brushed past the mantle adorning my shoulder, letting it blow in the heat.


    At my side, Trodius Flamesworth¡ªthe leading commander at the Wall¡ªlooked just as poised as I. But while I carried the airs of a Lance and King, Flamesworth seemed to look down on everything from above with a scrutinizing gaze.


    And beside him, King Grey watched with something empty as steel.


    ¡°And that should do it,¡± Gideon said sharply as he made some final adjustments to the weapons the nonmages were holding. ¡°Ready when you are, uh¡­ King Leywin,¡± he said a bit nervously.


    I made a show of turning slowly, observing my surroundings and the people around me. A few hundred men and women from the Wall had all gathered in this courtyard at my command. Cooks and merchants and adventurers and bakers all watched with nervous anticipation. The countless different colors of hair absorbed light from the cloudy sky far above.


    ¡°Every single one of you here knows a bit of what war is,¡± I started, sweeping my water-blue gaze across the crowd. Wherever my eyes settled, people averted their eyes slightly, the weight of my presence made manifest in my words. ¡°No doubt many of you have lost loved ones in this conflict. Those that have been blessed to not suffer such tragedy know those who weren¡¯t so lucky.¡±


    I paused, savoring the tension of the crowd for a moment. I listened to their rising breaths and shuffling feet.


    ¡°The first time I spoke with all of you, I gave you a promise. A promise of retribution and protection both. And over this past month, I have worked to see that promise kept. Every day, strike teams have ventured beyond the bastion of the Wall, attacking teleportation gates and disrupting Alacryan camps under my direction. And we have seen success. No longer are the attacks on our countrymen so prevalent. No longer must we cower and hide in our homes, fearful to even sew our crops or work our leather!¡±


    More than a few cheers rose at that. They died quickly as the air I projected belied their sudden victory cries.


    ¡°But while these dangers have lessened, they have not ceased. The Alacryans¨Cthose wretched invaders who seek the blood of our countrymen¨Cclaim that they are here for liberation. But still, the claws of beasts and the weeping of orphaned children fill our city¡¯s streets.¡±


    The crowd went silent, drawn into melancholy. I allowed my head to lower, sharing a moment of grim silence with them.


    ¡°But today is where that changes for good,¡± I said, looking back up as I flexed my mana slightly. ¡°Because today is not a day for Lances or strike teams or the Trailblazers, though they would certainly enjoy what we are about to unveil. Today is a day for every single one of you.¡±


    I waved my hand to the side in a wide, flourishing motion, gesturing to the line of soldiers right behind me. A dozen men and women stood arrayed in distinct black uniforms behind me, their hands tight on the stocks of their weapons. Sweat beaded slightly down their fingers, but they had practiced for this moment.


    ¡°Let us all show you how you are going to fight back against these beasts,¡± I whispered, my eyes tracing over the men. ¡°Ready!¡± I barked.


    As practiced, the soldiers readied their weapons, settling into position. They aimed the long barrels of their muskets upward, their grips firm.


    ¡°Load!¡±


    The soldiers pulled out small bullets from their pouches, alongside charges of Gideon¡¯s unique gunpowder-combustium concoction. They poured the contents into a small pan, before swiftly loading the bullets into the chamber.


    ¡°Aim!¡±


    My fists clenched behind my back as I gritted my teeth, watching as those rifles lowered into position. Each promised death to the B-class mana beast as it snarled and thrashed within its cage.


    Deep in my mind, I remembered my past life. The automatic weapons as those barrels aimed down at me. The muscle memory twitched in my body as I remembered the patterns needed to evade and distract the aim of trained gunmen.


    ¡°Fire,¡± I hissed.


    The world erupted with a dozen claps of thunder, and then silence.


    The mana beast didn¡¯t even have a chance to lament its end. A dozen golf ball-sized holes opened along its normally impervious hide in splatters of blood and fur. It fell limp quickly.


    Smoke misted up from the tips of the rifle barrels. Gunpowder wafted her familiar, stark breath across my nose in a taunting, teasing way. King Grey suddenly seemed to demand my attention, an inexplicable and inexorable pull drawing my eyes toward his.


    I breathed in the scent of death, welcoming it like an old friend as I met the ghost of my past. Then I turned, looking back at the shocked crowd. Near me, Trodius Flamesworth¡¯s hand clenched and his eyes flashed with surprise as the mana beast died. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°These weapons will allow our nonmages to kill even mana beasts with ease!¡± I said triumphantly. ¡°Those of you at home will no longer need to fear the creatures of the night as they stalk by your door.¡±


    A cacophonous cheer arose from the silence. A few calls for Dicathen as the common folk celebrated this rise. I watched a cook bellow vengefully as they thrust a meaty fist in the air.


    But there were a few different cheers. Some for King Arthur Leywin and the new union.


    I made my exit, then, striding past the people and leading Gideon and Trodius back toward the Wall itself, letting the familiar praise and adoration wash over me as I kept my head high.


    These new manalock muskets¨Ca unique mix of flintlock, percussion, and mana based upon Gideon¡¯s improvement on my design¨Cwould change the face of warfare in Dicathen forever. I suspected any beast below B-class could be killed by a bullet with relative ease, and any mage below the yellow core stage wouldn''t even be able to react to the speed of metal.


    ¡°War is going to change,¡± I muttered darkly as I strode into a nearby meeting room. ¡°This is where everything shifts for this world. Everything.¡±


    Gideon scoffed, scratching at his greasy hair. ¡°Say it for yourself, wonderboy,¡± he snapped, withdrawing a pen and paper. ¡°The ignition charges went off, sure! But the aim of those buffoons wasn¡¯t worth skittershit!¡±


    I fixed the old artificer with a stare at his address. He paused, scratching nervously at his face with the back of his pen as he recognized his mistake. ¡°Not wonderboy anymore, eh?¡± he said nervously at the intensity of my gaze. ¡°Wonderking, then?¡± he said, his eyes darting away.


    I exhaled through my nose. Gideon was not the kind of person to respect any sort of authority. I might have worked with him extensively on this project, but he still wasn¡¯t used to my new position. Probably wouldn¡¯t ever be. ¡°Regardless, the weapon proved effective,¡± I said truthfully. ¡°And soon, they will be ready for implementation in our assault teams and soldiery across Sapin. The Beast Hordes will be easier to put down, especially with how centralized everyone has become in the cities.¡±


    The regular assaults on the Beast Glades had been a monumental success after the first initial foray. With the discovery that the control of the corrupted beasts was centralized on those dark crystal artifacts, it became commonplace to take several mages with beast bonds on every assault so that they could sniff out the mages with crystals.


    No longer was it a mad fight of a squad against Alacryans and beasts. With a few targets, the operations became essentially assassination missions.


    Lance Phantasm had reaped her due in the past month more than any other. And finally, the massacres had slowed down to a trickle. Every now and then beasts still appeared, but they were less and less frequent.


    ¡°You have full authorization in the development of weapons, Gideon Bastius. Focus on the creation of cannons and mobile artillery alongside improving the musket design. You will be granted whatever resources you need in this pursuit, so long as you can justify it to me.¡±


    Gideon smacked his lips, visibly salivating at my words. ¡°Wonderking, indeed,¡± he muttered, his eyes lighting up with stars. ¡°You¡¯ve got it. You¡¯ll see more explosions. We¡¯ll rip these Alacryans to shreds.¡±


    A maddened smile split his face as he sauntered toward the exit, muttering something. I heard him talking about Emily there for a time, too.


    When we¡¯d started this war, I hadn¡¯t truly understood how little of a chance Dicathen stood against our enemy. But as I slowly grew to understand, I realized it was my duty to give my people a way to fight back against the monsters that held our continent by the throat.


    Agrona broke rules in warfare. His soldiers mowed down civilians as his corrupted beasts committed massacres that made our entire continent weep in sorrow.


    When you cross lines, when you escalate in war, I thought, exhaling as the weight of what I planned to do sank in, There is nothing that stops your foes doing the same.


    There were¡­ other things I could give Gideon. The last resort, the lines I truly feared to cross. Chemical formula.


    The sort that would make dwarves fear the dark of their own tunnels.


    I won¡¯t cross those lines, I reasserted to myself. I won¡¯t cross them.


    But I was finally alone with the man I really wanted to speak to. Alone with him except for the spirit of King Grey.


    ¡°Permission to speak, King Arthur,¡± Trodius requested at my side. His voice was cool and crisp. He looked in every picture the perfect Dicathian noble. He even bowed his head slightly as protocol demanded.


    I turned to the dark-haired nobleman, observing him impassively for a few moments. If the man were someone less refined and honed in the political sense, I might have waited longer so as to unnerve him. ¡°Granted, Lord Flamesworth.¡±


    He straightened slightly, his eyes flashing as he adjusted his cravat. The sigil of the Flamesworth House burned prominently. ¡°From my intel, the Alacryans gained knowledge of the steamship from the failed expedition of the Dicatheous. If we were to introduce such weapons to our people, then it only stands to reason that they will be taken as well. If it makes destruction and killing so simple, the casualties will be immense.¡±


    I smiled slightly at Trodius¡¯ question. He was good at the game. One of the best I¡¯d met since I¡¯d become King of the United Forces of Dicathen. It almost appeared as if he cared about the commoners that we led into battle.


    Any lesser politician might have missed the true reason he asked this question. I did not like Trodius Flamesworth. He was a poor father to Jasmine Flamesworth, my childhood mentor. He was opportunistic and cunning. But in war, one made sacrifices.


    ¡°A good question, Lord Flamesworth,¡± I said. And it was a good question. One I¡¯d asked myself over and over and over in my sleep. King Grey¡¯s eyes mirrored that very question. ¡°But I want to ask you something else in return. How many people do you think live on the enemy continent?¡±


    Trodius met my gaze with one of cool serenity. ¡°I cannot begin to guess, Your Majesty,¡± he said simply, offering platitudes with a silver tongue. ¡°But I would venture that they are not that much greater than ours.¡±


    ¡°Estimates gathered from the captive Retainer Uto put numbers at a conservative estimate of five times,¡± I said with ease, watching Trodius like a hawk. ¡°And that is simply the difference between our populations.¡±


    Alacrya¡¯s technology surpassed ours by leagues. And that meant better food production. Better population control. Better urbanization. Better everything. Like the industrialized nations of my previous life, their population exploded beyond the natural confines of feudalism and monarchy.


    The dark-haired man nodded slowly, taking this in stride. He wasn¡¯t surprised just yet. ¡°Dicathen has always fought at a disadvantage, Your Majesty. This is nothing new.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± I said simply. ¡°But what do you think the number of mages in Alacrya is?¡±


    Trodius finally seemed to sense the direction I was taking this conversation. His gaze sharpened as he focused on me more deeply. Not hostile, but gauging. Measuring. ¡°I am ignorant of this knowledge, King Arthur,¡± he said slowly, ready for the jaws to close in.


    ¡°This is knowledge kept secret deep within the Council,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I would not expect you to know it. As you know, the rate of mage to nonmage in Dicathen is somewhere around one to a hundred. But in Alacrya?¡±


    I let the words drift from my tongue like flesh falling from a corpse. This time, I did maintain my silence for a time. I wanted to give the man time to really think. And from the bead of sweat I saw suddenly drip down the side of his neck¨Cbarely perceptible¨CI knew his expectations had plummeted.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Those numbers are one in five.¡±


    Trodius¡¯ nostrils flared, his eyes widening slightly. ¡°That is impossible,¡± he said abruptly. ¡°To have so many¨C¡±


    ¡°Would mean the enemy has a battletrained mage for every person on this continent,¡± I interrupted simply, turning toward a few scattered papers. I walked toward them calmly, picking them up and sifting through them. I withdrew a light sketch of one of the muskets. ¡°That they have one hundred times as many mages as us, each hardened by warfare, and they haven¡¯t even fielded their greatest warriors yet? That is what it would mean. Those bastards talk a lot about the purity of their blood and how great it is. And being experimented on by a mad god for millennia does appear to have some¡­ benefits.¡±


    I raised the blueprint of a simple flintlock to the firelight, tracing the lines of the intricate design. It was utilitarian, in a way. Trodius remained silent, understanding that it was time for his silence in the face of someone greater.


    I had been systematically purging much of the old regime of Dicathian nobles during my short tenure. I focused on those whose record of incompetence and failure drained Dicathen¡¯s resources further and bled our abilities into the dirt. Many Houses that survived from their close ties to the Glayders or Eraliths alone were subsequently demoted or pushed into meaningless positions.


    With the Lances bound to me and an asura at my back, there was little they could do to resist the initial push against their idiocy. I¡¯d seized assets and pooled their resources as I elevated those I knew to be competent to better positions. Blaine and Priscilla had argued for a short time regarding my acts, and Alduin had mutely accepted my actions as the defeated man he¡¯d become.


    The Dicathian bureaucracy was in the process of wartime restructuring: something I had plenty of practice in from my previous life. But I also could not maintain my grip on power without a solid base of allies.


    ¡°These simple weapons¡ªon their first prototypes¡ªallow nonmages to fell B-class mana beasts with a simple pull of a trigger. I¡¯d wager they¡¯d prove similarly effective on the majority of the enemy mages, too,¡± I muttered quietly, conjuring a tongue of flame over my finger. It hopped eagerly onto the parchment. ¡°And already we¡¯ve replaced many of the dwarven metalworkers at the Wall with steam hammers and similarly powerful technology. Anything¡ªanybody¡ªcan be replaced.¡±


    I looked back toward the nobleman, who for once looked genuinely ruffled. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes narrowed as the implications of all this ran through him like slow poison ¡°My point in all this, Lord Flamesworth, is that Dicathen is going to be undergoing some very real changes in regards to how we fight. How we live.¡± I tilted my head, letting the light reflect off my crown. ¡°How we rule.¡±


    Times were changing. I needed competence. And if the nobles of Dicathen wanted to keep their power, they needed to exude it. Trodius could join me in this change, or he could be swept away.


    The nobleman bowed deeply, understanding my message. ¡°You are wise, King Arthur.¡± It appeared to me he actually believed it too. ¡°You have given me much to think about.¡±


    I nodded slowly, about to dismiss the man. Then I turned my head to the side as I sensed a familiar presence approaching from afar at a rapid pace.


    I slowly walked toward the exit of our meeting room, stepping back out beneath the Wall under its dark, dark shadow. I stared up into the cloudy sky, my pupils searching as they darted back and forth along the gray.


    And finally, I spotted it. A few miles up, a black blot of ink in that endless gray was approaching quickly.


    Am I going to rise to meet you, Sylv? I thought as the massive dragon inched closer and closer.


    ¡°That isn¡¯t necessary,¡± my draconic bond replied, her emotions coming across with a somber tinge. ¡°We should speak on the ground. I have news from my scouting about the fires and decimated beast hordes along Sapin, and rumors of a rogue hero slaying the corrupted monsters. But Tessia¡­ She¡¯s with me. She met up with me on my scouting, and she received the news she was waiting for.¡±


    The emotions I felt from my bond were shadowed and mournful, and I felt my heart clench painfully in my chest. I closed my eyes, even as that dark blot became more and more prominent in the sky.


    They haven¡¯t made any progress on curing the corruption, have they?


    Silence was my only answer.


    My mind flashed back to Virion¡¯s comatose state. The way his skin seemed too hollow and his pulse too low. Those old eyes of his, which had once danced with such light, now were closed for what seemed would be an eternity.


    Tess had held out hope that our forays into the Beast Glades and discovery of the crystal contraptions that controlled the monsters would allow us to work toward healing her grandfather, but now¡­


    People finally began to look up toward the sky at the flapping of thunderous wingbeats. Gasps of awe and fear rose as Sylvie plummeted like a comet of darkness, approaching the wall like a comet of unutterable power and majesty. Her dark scales¡ªeach the size of my palm¡ªreflected the light as she surged downward like a thunderstorm.


    Then she flared her feathered wings wide, a wall of wind erupting around us as people scrabbled for cover. The ground shook as her four powerful limbs hit the ground. People knelt and whispered in awe as she flared her wings, steam misting from her massive maw.


    A figure slid from Sylvie¡¯s neck, falling to the ground with the grace of a spring breeze. Tess appeared like the perfect Lance with her white uniform and serene eyes, but I could see through it.


    Sylvie let the people watch her for a time, each of them basking in awe. She audibly rumbled for a moment, before flashing with yellow light. My bond shifted forms with ease, folding in on herself as she became a young woman.


    Those who hadn¡¯t knelt before did so now. Behind me, Trodius Flamesworth shuddered as Sylvie¡¯s amber eyes passed over him contemptuously.


    Tess and Sylv approached me in tandem, my two anchors appearing perfect to the outside eyes. No doubt the morale of all would rise at the presence of an asura and Lance. Their spirits would be bolstered even further in the wake of my show of gunpowder.


    But I could see the tense anxiety in Tess¡¯ shoulders. I could feel the sorrow in my bond¡¯s emotions.


    Trodius Flamesworth slowly knelt as Sylvie and Tess approached, cowed by her status as a true asura. Her eyes judged him coolly before returning to me.


    ¡°King Arthur,¡± she said, stepping forward as she bowed her head. She stood at my right side. ¡°I have news to report about my scouting.¡±


    Trodius exhaled through his teeth where he knelt. Sylv was playing her part well. An asura showing deference to me as leader of the Forces of Dicathen lent me credence and authority.


    ¡°Very well,¡± I said impassively, feeling a twinge of interest and worry both. I sent a subtle message to my childhood friend as she withheld her emotions. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    My eyes flicked to Trodius as I turned, looking back whence we came. ¡°Consider my earlier words, Lord Flamesworth,¡± I said honestly. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to talk to you again.¡±


    I strode back to the earlier meeting room, Tess and Sylv in tow. I took silent reprieve in the absence of King Grey at the edges of my vision as the two of them banished his ghost for the time being. I felt my shoulders unconsciously loosening and my posture becoming more fluid and natural.


    When we finally entered the room, I clenched and unclenched my hands. I turned, looking toward Tess first. ¡°Tess, I heard a bit from Sylv. I¡¯m sorr¨C¡±


    My childhood friend simply hugged me tightly, shutting her eyes. Her slim and pale arms clenched around me in a desperate cry for support.


    I returned her hug, pushing away my hesitance as I ran my hands through her gunmetal gray hair. I tried to convey my silent understanding and mirrored sorrow as she buried her face into my shoulder.


    Sylv slowly walked over, running a sympathetic arm along Tess¡¯ back.


    ¡°They still can¡¯t do it,¡± she said weakly. ¡°All the emitters¡­ they¡¯ve made no progress in healing Grandpa at all. Even with the new information we got, they told me that they have no idea if it¡¯s even possible.¡±


    My childhood friend didn¡¯t cry. She¡¯d exhausted all her tears for this war long ago. As a Lance and Princess, she¡¯d grown strong and powerful. But still, I knew this was a devastating blow.


    We¡¯d hoped that the new information we¡¯d discovered about the corrupted beasts would help us to heal Virion of the corruption that kept him comatose. Tess in particular had held out hope for the past few weeks of some sort of breakthrough, but it appeared that even the best emitters in Dicathen continued to be stumped.


    ¡°There¡¯s still a chance, Tess,¡± I said, trying to comfort her as I held her tight. ¡°They haven¡¯t been looking at the toxin long. There¡¯s always a chance for a breakthrough.¡±


    Tess sighed sadly, but didn¡¯t respond. Her hands only clenched around my back, her face buried in the hard planes of my chest as she drew strength from my posture.


    ¡°I looked at the strain of corruption,¡± Sylv said quietly. ¡°My aetheric path revolves around healing and protection, so I thought I might be able to assist. The corruption reacts negatively to my soulfire arts, but I was able to learn something new. The strain that is infecting Virion Eralith isn¡¯t the same as those of the other mana beasts. It¡¯s more¡­ concentrated. Controlled. Any nudge of the taint risks doing irreparable damage.¡±


    I exhaled, feeling my mood plummet. I¡¯d been hoping for Virion¡¯s recovery, too. It wasn¡¯t possible for things to revert to the way they were before his collapse. I¡¯d changed too much and centralized too much authority and power around myself for that. But his input and steadying advice would be a true godsend in helping me balance Grey and Arthur.


    And Gramps¡­ he¡¯d raised me nearly as much as my own parents. Seeing his scarecrow of a body in the sickroom of Zestier made something in me wither.


    ¡°There might be a way,¡± Tess said, pushing away from me and looking up with imploring eyes of turquoise. ¡°A way to heal Grandpa.¡±


    Sylv opened her mouth, then closed it as she looked at my childhood friend consideringly. She seemed to catch onto whatever she meant before I did.


    ¡°What do you mean, Tess?¡± I asked, brushing a lock of her hair back into place as she stared up at me with resolution.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± she said with conviction. Conviction that made the blood in my veins freeze. ¡°Toren Daen can heal Grandpa. He did the same for my mana core, cleansing me of corruption. And he healed me again, deep in Zestier with his strange phoenix arts. He can do this.¡±


    I worked my jaw, exchanging a complicated look with Sylvie. I let Tess¡¯ words sink in, but I immediately knew of their impossibility. ¡°Tess,¡± I said sadly, ¡°Spellsong might have healed you, but he won¡¯t heal your grandfather.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes, looking at me with a mote of sizzling defiance from where she still nestled in my arms. ¡°He would,¡± Tess asserted instead. ¡°I felt it in his magic, Art. We both know it¡¯s possible for him to do so. He¡¯s shown that he¡¯s on our side, hasn¡¯t he? He healed me. He healed you. And he told us about the Legacy and Agrona¡¯s plans! He¡¯ll absolutely help us if we ask him, won¡¯t he?¡±


    I separated from Tess, pushing away as I moved back to the table. I ground my teeth as I let myself think. ¡°He isn¡¯t on our side exactly, Tess. He¡ªand Scythe Seris Vritra, too¡ªare against Agrona, of that we can be certain. But that doesn¡¯t align them with us.¡± I looked back at her, my gaze solemn. ¡°The Sehz-Clarian front at our southern border still supplants Dicathian influence and sends probing strikes every week. Make no mistake, they still intend to see us conquered.¡±


    I recalled the time Gramps had told me of his meeting with Seris Vritra where he negotiated Toren Daen¡¯s removal from the active warfront. The disguised and cloaked words of the Scythe implied much of her motivations. Enough for me to truly create a picture of what she intended.


    Rebellion against Agrona, most likely. But rebellion from within, not without. That meant she still intended to see Dicathen conquered and brought to heel. That was something I could not allow.


    ¡°Then play to what Seris Vritra wants!¡± Tess said, moving forward and grabbing my arm tightly. ¡°We¡¯ve been pressing into Viessa Vritra¡¯s positions on the eastern front of the Beast Glades, haven¡¯t we? And you told me how the two are hostile toward each other. It doesn¡¯t need to be under the conditions of total surrender, either!¡±


    ¡°Tessia is right,¡± Sylv finally said, approaching as she laid a hand on the table, too. ¡°The healing of Virion Eralith would still be considered a major act, but not nearly as much now that you are the commander of Dicathen. It¡¯s worth a try, Arthur.¡±


    I tapped my finger along the hardwood table slowly, Grey¡¯s analytical thinking suffusing my mind. But also Arthur¡¯s.


    ¡°The two fronts of the war push for opposing methods of subjugation,¡± I grunted, staring at a haphazardly drawn map of Dicathen on the messy table in front of me. It wasn¡¯t hard to notice the rumors seeded throughout Dicathen of the differences between the two Alacryan fronts, no doubt pressed by Seris Vritra. One a welcoming angel, the other a conniving demon. ¡°They¡¯re hostile to each other, even if they¡¯re on the same side.¡±


    ¡°Play them off each other,¡± Sylvie said quietly, following my train of thought. ¡°Engage with one, while disrupting the other. Fester their cooperation with rot.¡±


    ¡°If we want Spellsong to heal Virion, we need to offer something enticing enough to warrant it,¡± I said slowly. I turned my eyes to Tess, whose face lit up with brilliant hope. ¡°Tess, what is your true opinion of Mawar?¡±


    The captured Retainer had been helpful in locating the camps of Alacryans across the Beast Glades. While I¡¯d tortured Uto for information, Tessia had taken to simply¡­ talking to the captive. While Mawar didn¡¯t outright say anything damning, my childhood friend had remarkable success in weaving around and through her naivete to extract information that the Retainer didn¡¯t even know she¡¯d been giving away.


    Tess shifted slightly, her eyes softening. ¡°She is¡­ a girl too young for war,¡± she replied. ¡°She¡¯s startlingly naive, though you¡¯d expect her to be more mature for her station.¡±


    I chuckled lightly. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re talking about the Retainer?¡±


    Tess scoffed, punching me lightly in the arm. ¡°Shut up, Art,¡± she said quietly. ¡°But she¡¯s desperate for recognition from her mother. I don¡¯t think she held any true loyalty to Viessa Vritra, but I get the impression that Viessa was possessive of her in a way.¡±


    I nodded slowly, a plan already forming in my mind. To play Seris and Viessa Vritra off each other while also extracting what I needed.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send an envoy of Dicathen to Vildorial soon,¡± I said, tapping my fingers against the table. ¡°Seris Vritra has engaged with treaties and deals with us before, and considering she used Spellsong as a bartering chip last time, it sets a precedent that will compel her slightly to at least hear us out.¡°


    And even if this went nowhere and all I received were empty words and false promises, the act of opening negotiations of any sort would slow the assaults from the southern front, giving our troops room to breathe and recuperate. I could use that time to teach them the basics of firearms and weaponry as I focused on the eastern front more directly. And the Lances¡ªwhose limiters had finally been removed¡ªwould have the chance to grow in strength once more with ease.


    This could be the break we needed to finally clear out the Beast Glades and cement our attention on a single front. And once we pressed Seris Vritra and the others from Darv, I could focus more on the battlefield of the sea where we were most disadvantaged.


    Tess untensed slightly, looking up at me with strangely cautious eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll actually try, Arthur?¡± she asked, seeming uncertain. ¡°I¡­ I know it isn¡¯t the most sound strategic move. I don¡¯t want to sound like a little¨C¡±


    I laid a hand on Tess¡¯ shoulder, cutting her off. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ okay, Tess,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Sometimes, what we want aligns nicely with what we need. It¡¯s okay for you to be a little selfish sometimes.¡±


    Tess shifted closer. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, you¡¯re right. I can be a little selfish.¡± She stood on her tippy toes, kissing me suddenly. The act still left me feeling slightly unsure, but this time¡­ This time, I didn¡¯t feel the stabbing knives of guilt so deeply.


    For once, I allowed myself to kiss Tess back a little bit more. She yelped a bit in surprise as my beard brushed her pale skin. When I pulled back, her ears were drooping in their usual way and a flush was apparent on her cheeks.


    She coughed anxiously as I stared down at her warmly. ¡°Well, yes, um¡­ I do have duties. And uh¡­ Things that Lances have to do.¡±


    I felt my smile rise a bit more as I stared at the flustered elf. ¡°You¡¯re free to act on those, Lance Silverthorn,¡± I said teasingly. ¡°Your king will always let you do as you wish.¡±


    Her face burned starkly as she pounded a clenched fist against my chest, but it had no heat in it. ¡°Even if you¡¯re a king now, you¡¯re still an idiot,¡± she said, before turning around and marching from the room with a posture a bit too mechanical.


    I watched her go fondly, feeling my resolutions burn softly in my chest.


    ¡°You¡¯re figuring it out,¡± Sylv said quietly as she walked closer to me. ¡°How to do this. Be who you want to be, even if you struggle.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not easy,¡± I admitted. King Grey always judged me. Always reminded me of what I could become if I let my anchors go. ¡°But I¡¯m on my way. I¡¯m fighting for it.¡±


    That brought my mind to another topic. Taci waited at the castle still, always insistent on another brutalist spar that left half my bones broken. But it wasn¡¯t done entirely out of spite any longer. More that the young asura just didn¡¯t know anything besides brutality.


    But he hadn¡¯t been raging anymore. Just quietly arrogant every time he landed a blow.


    I¡¯d also need to talk to Ellie again. I¡¯d have to tell her about my secret, so she could understand why I¡¯d become King.


    ¡°I do still need to tell you about my scouting mission,¡± Sylv said seriously, the happier atmosphere drifting away. ¡°I know you thought the rumors of a rogue hero attacking the remnant hordes across the countryside to be false, but contrary to your expectations, it appears there is some real truth to those words.¡±


    I focused on my bond again as she began to talk, adopting the mantle of Grey again as he was needed. I slotted Arthur away for the time being, but he was still there.


    And always would be, so long as I had those I needed to protect.

 Chapter 263: To Those Who Pray

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Circe Milview


    The sound of my boots kicking up cold, winter dirt didn¡¯t do much to block out the slight exhaustion burning in my veins. I heaved for breath, my long hair sticking to my face as I trod after Seth. My younger brother bounded across the rocky terrain with impossible ease as he tracked toward something I couldn¡¯t see or understand.


    ¡°Just a ways over this ridge, Circe!¡± he called back to me as he stood triumphantly atop a boulder. ¡°I recognize this place! We¡¯re so close!¡±


    I finally managed to reach my baby brother, before collapsing in a heap atop the ridge. The winter chill tugged at my thick clothes, but the sticky sweat lining the inside of my jacket made me feel like I¡¯d simply jumped into a hot river.


    ¡°Give¡­ me a moment, Seth,¡± I wheezed, laying out across the rock as I fought to get my breath back. ¡°Can¡¯t¡­ Can¡¯t move like you.¡±


    Ever since Spellsong had healed my brother, he¡¯d borne an impossible sort of vitality that defied belief. Anyone who saw him would never have guessed that he¡¯d spent his entire life stuck in a bed with twigs for arms and blood fits that brought him low.


    He did still have fits. But they¡­ they were different.


    ¡°It¡¯s just over this next ridge, Circe,¡± Seth said, his slightly-high voice resolute. He¡¯d turned thirteen recently, and he¡¯d really started to shoot up. ¡°You can still use True Sense, right? I think you¡¯ll be able to figure it out when we get there.¡±


    I finally sat up, groaning slightly. ¡°You didn¡¯t see the place we need to go, exactly?¡± I said. ¡°I thought you did.¡±


    Seth shook his head, his short dark hair waving slightly. I¡¯d finally gotten around to cutting it regularly. ¡°The visions aren¡¯t like that. Not really. I can tell that it¡¯s really important that we¡¯re here. Or somewhere around here. But it¡¯s really weird. You wouldn¡¯t believe it!¡±


    I sat up slightly, staring around at the expanse of boulders where we stood. We were far, far from civilization. At Seth¡¯s most recent fit, he¡¯d demanded that we leave to come here, traveling to the middle of nowhere. Dozens of miles from the closest town and near the headwaters of the Heart¡¯s Blood River.


    He hadn¡¯t even been able to ask me why. Just had a feeling.


    He¡¯d told me I needed to have faith.


    Faith in what? I thought bitterly, feeling my body tremble as the events of the past seven months sifted back through my mind. Faith didn¡¯t save my brother. Faith didn¡¯t give him back his life.


    I¡¯d always been an avid worshiper of the Vritra, believing in their promises. Following their vows of salvation for all. The lie that I would bring glory and honor to my Blood if I just dedicated my soul.


    But my faith hadn¡¯t been rewarded. Far from it.


    One of the first times Seth had another one of his fits, I¡¯d descended into deep, primal worry. I feared that his blood sickness had somehow resurged, coming to reap its vengeance. But though he¡¯d shaken and his eyes had rolled into the back of his head, he¡¯d emerged from it no worse for wear.


    Except he spoke of impossible things. He told me that we needed to leave our house and take our things, because it was a bad time to be there. I didn¡¯t understand what he was saying. I didn¡¯t really believe it, either. But I¡¯d been so grateful to have my brother back that I¡¯d acquiesced anyway.


    And I¡¯d watched from a block away as hooded men in robes of the Doctrination battered down our door, before ransacking every meager possession we had. I¡¯d heard them as they¡¯d walked by our hiding place, claiming that this was worthy tithe they were taking. Because I¡¯d stopped sending in my monthly donations.


    They¡¯d robbed us blind. They¡¯d taken nearly everything we owned. And they said it was worthy tithe.


    The Doctrination was a lie, I thought angrily. They lied to me. They lied to Seth.


    And then Seth continued to have his fits at their regular frequency. Except whenever he had them, he was granted knowledge.


    Where we needed to be to avoid a rampaging carriage that would¡¯ve flattened us both. Where I had to stand in the academy to catch a girl who fell from the roof and would have otherwise snapped her neck.


    I didn¡¯t understand why or how. But Spellsong had bestowed something divine upon my brother. I remembered the wash of power that had held the air as he used that impossible light to bring us salvation.


    ¡°Do you know what¡¯s so important about this?¡± I asked weakly as I finally found strength again, pushing myself back to my feet.


    ¡°No, not really,¡± Seth said simply, unperturbed. ¡°I just know we gotta be here. And this is more important than anything I¡¯ve ever had to do, somehow. And I¡¯ve got faith in that.¡±


    That¡¯s okay. I don¡¯t need all the answers, I thought. I can have a little faith in him.


    ¡°You just need me to use True Sense here?¡± I said, already reaching for my emblem. Seth nodded.


    I settled down into a cross-legged pose atop the rock, taking a deep breath. I¡¯d graduated from Khaernian Academy as one of the top sentries the school had ever produced. I might have immediately gone into the Relictombs as an ascender or worked in some sort of medical field, but Seth had insisted we take this trip to the middle of nowhere.


    Have faith, Circe, I repeated to myself like a dead mantra. Just have a little faith in him.


    I engaged True Sense, and my spirit left my body. I immediately felt as if I¡¯d been dunked in cold water, or left outside in a tempest of snow. But I was familiar with that sensation by now.


    I gritted my teeth, feeling the strain on my core immediately even as I slowly panned about. All about me, I had an almost instinctive sense for the ambient mana.


    Fire, I thought, honing in on the easiest element for me to sense. Red mana particles lit up in my vision, abounding close to the ground and higher in the sky as the sunlight carried them about.


    I scanned the world, trying to see some sort of discrepancy. Seth thought that I¡¯d just be able to piece it together without much effort, whatever it was.


    I didn¡¯t see anything out of the norm. I shifted to wind mana, scanning the sky where the green particles were most present. Nothing out of place. Water mana, too, showed no signs of influence.


    I was starting to get a little frustrated as my ghostlike form drifted about haphazardly, trying to see some sort of distortion or break or something. I could feel the time limit of the emblem nearing, and it would be a while before I could afford to use it again.


    With a grim sort of resolve, I finally switched to earth mana.


    And that was when I sensed it. Almost like a bleeding wound, there was some sort of tear in the earth mana right near where Seth stood. Like a jagged claw across the normal flow, there was a distinct gap in the normal weave of sturdy stone that always pervaded the world.


    I focused in on it, feeling a measure of surprise. It was a small little tear, and I wouldn¡¯t have even noticed it without Seth¡¯s direction.


    My mana core twinged, and my head felt foggy for a moment. I groaned as I was pulled back toward my body. I gasped cold air as my body trembled from that single use. Seth patted my back in a comforting way, his hands jittery despite his strangely solemn gaze.


    ¡°You were right, Seth,¡± I heaved, trying for the second time in five minutes to catch my breath. I pointed a ways forward at the edge of a nearby stone. ¡°Over there. There¡¯s some sort of tear in the earth mana. Like someone sank claws into the earth and churned it apart.¡±


    Seth waited for me to catch my breath, patting me on the back with a concerned furrow to his brows. He looked toward the place I¡¯d highlighted, appearing hesitant for the first time.


    I heaved myself to my feet, feeling a twinge in my mana core. Once Seth saw that I could move, he turned suddenly nervous eyes toward the boulder I¡¯d indicated.


    ¡°I¡¯m going first,¡± I said with conviction. I placed myself in front of Seth as I looked at where I knew the strange tear was.


    ¡°Circe,¡± Seth started, sounding unsure as the wind whipped at his hair. His lips looked dry. ¡°You don¡¯t know what¡¯s over there.¡±


    ¡°Which is why I¡¯m going in before you,¡± I said, reaching a hand back and ruffling his hair. He didn¡¯t look amused. ¡°You¡¯ve got the strange future sense or whatever it is. That¡¯s way more important than whatever I have.¡±


    I didn¡¯t give him a chance to protest. I walked toward the boulder, squaring my shoulders and presenting an outwardly brave front. After all, I was still Seth¡¯s big sister. Earlier, I¡¯d thought his faith unshakeable, but I¡¯d forgotten in some small way that he was still a young boy.


    But as I trotted toward the boulder, I felt my anxiety spike. It wasn¡¯t much larger than I was at all, but in the cold winter afternoon, it seemed to loom with impossible height. The edges¡ªrounded by weathering and smoothed by time¡ªdistorted into sharpened claws.


    I swallowed as I finally stepped forward, right before the boulder. It¡¯s just a rock, I chastised myself, feeling the sweat inside my jacket all the more as goosebumps trailed along my skin. Stop holding yourself back.


    That was something Professor Entrun repeated over and over and over. Our greatest limit was ourselves. We held ourselves back from greatness. Too often we quit before we could give it our all; before we drained every last drop of mana and blood for our Sovereigns.


    I laid my hand on the rock, not knowing what to expect. But I wasn¡¯t entirely shocked to feel the stone rippling unnaturally beneath my palm.


    ¡°Woah,¡± Seth echoed behind me, entranced as he leaned closer to the rock, watching as it churned like the surface of a lake. ¡°That¡¯s so weird!¡°


    ¡°A barrier spell,¡± I said quietly, recognizing this from my lessons at Khaernian Academy. ¡°But like nothing I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Most illusory barrier spells had some sort of sign that could identify them to sentries, especially with True Sense. But this was an unnatural entry point, as far as I could tell. Which meant the spellwork had been perfect enough to avoid detection from my emblem in all ranges of ambient mana. Only this entrance point¡ªan unnatural, wrenching one¡ªwas what gave it away.


    I felt my worries resurge again as the implications washed through me. A mage who could cast a barrier strong enough to avoid True Sense? They must have been using a regalia at least.


    ¡°Circe?¡± Seth asked behind me, sensing my trepidation.


    I gritted my teeth. Have faith in Seth, I thought. He¡¯s been there for you so far.


    I stepped forward, the rock rippling and pulsing around me. For an instant, all was darkness as the claustrophobic sense of the earth swallowing me took hold.


    Is this what a grave is like? I thought for an instant, my breathing instinctively ratcheting up. Is this what it''s like to be a corpse?


    And then I was falling. It happened so suddenly that I didn¡¯t even have time to scream. The sense of the stone around me vanished as I was suddenly embraced by the air instead. I breathed in sharply, ready to scream in surprise.


    I hit the water, submerging instantly. The sudden sense of my thick clothes and jacket being submerged swallowed me. I paddled my arms in surprise as I desperately swam to the surface of whatever I¡¯d been, my thoughts a jumbled mess.


    I gasped as I splashed to the surface, coughing and hacking as I treaded water. I blinked, trying to adjust to the utter darkness I found myself in. I could barely see a foot in front of me as I oriented in the water, looking for some spot of land or something.


    Then there was another splash. I turned about abruptly, noting that Seth had fallen from the ceiling as well. He thrashed in surprise and fear as he was nearly pulled underwater, kicking and sputtering.


    My instincts kicked in as I swam over to him, grabbing his hand and trying to steady him. ¡°Seth!¡± I called, giving him a place to hold. ¡°Seth, it¡¯s just water! Remember the river! I taught you to swim! Remember!¡±


    My baby brother continued to kick for a moment, but then he managed to meet my eyes. His fear and terror managed to even out slightly as I held him tightly. I gritted my teeth, trying to convey my care.


    Seth¡¯s frantic kicking and pushing¨Cwhile still fast and unwieldy¨Ctook on the pattern necessary to keep him afloat. He wasn¡¯t the best swimmer. I¡¯d barely had time to teach him as his blood sickness went away. But he didn¡¯t need to be a good swimmer right now.


    I held Seth¡¯s shoulders lightly. ¡°I think I spotted the far bank behind me,¡± I said quietly, noting how my voice seemed to echo. ¡°We¡¯re going to swim toward there, okay? Slowly and carefully. You go in front of me. I¡¯ll be here to help if you start to panic.¡±


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    Seth nodded quickly, his face pale. He took a deep, shaky breath, orienting in the water and facing toward where I indicated.


    And then he began to swim.


    I followed behind him, my mind alert and buzzing as I focused on keeping Seth above water, but also on where we were. It appeared like an underground cavern of some sort, the stone above likely an entry point of some kind. We¡¯d fallen through the stone to reach this place, but what was this place?


    Seth finally reached the shore. He hauled himself to a rocky outcropping, dripping with water as he lay there bonelessly for a moment. I reached a moment later, resting on my hands and knees as my sopping clothing clung to my body.


    ¡°We gotta get these clothes off,¡± I muttered tiredly, shivering as the cold water bit into my very soul. Professor Entrun¡¯s lessons on wilderness survival bounced around in my head. ¡°Cold clothes sap body heat faster. Gotta let ¡¯em dry,¡± I wheezed, water dripping from my shoulder-length hair.


    I was a sentry, not a striker or shield, so I had no way to augment my body and keep myself warm. Neither did my brother.


    I sidled over to Seth first where he lay, my brother looking up at me tiredly. The exhaustion in his eyes mirrored mine, but I wasn¡¯t about to let him freeze. He shivered, his teeth chattering.


    I helped Seth work at his buttons, my body starting to tremble more and more as the chill set into my bones. He finally managed to get his jacket off, tossing it to the side to air.


    With the hardest part out of the way, I let Seth continue on his own in undressing. I hobbled a bit further away as I worked at my thick jacket, inspecting my dimension ring for our spare clothes and some towels to dry ourselves.


    It took only a few minutes for us both to lay our clothes out to dry. I handed Seth a spare set of pants, a shirt, and everything else he needed. But he would still be cold without his jacket.


    I trembled, my teeth rattling as I pulled on a new shirt in the darkness. I could barely see anything in this cavern, but there was almost an¡­ aura that made the cold bite harder, sink deeper into my very soul. The ambient mana felt strange in a way I couldn¡¯t describe, like the legs of a hundred spiders ghosting across my freezing skin.


    Well, we¡¯re here, I thought as I withdrew a flare from my dimension ring. One of the only ones we had. But what exactly is supposed to happen now?


    I struck the flare, giving me solid light for a moment. A tiny ember of red banished the darkness in a small radius around me as it hissed, sputtering in little sparks. Seth sidled up to it, hugging me for warmth¨Cand I thought a bit of comfort.


    My fingers brushed against the dagger on my thigh, my throat drying out as I was suddenly very aware of the possibility of mana beasts in this little cave. I couldn¡¯t see much, even as I rotated around. ¡°Any idea what we need to do next, Seth?¡± I asked, wrapping an arm around him as we shared body heat.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said in a small voice, the fear radiating from him as his eyes darted everywhere about the lake. ¡°I just feel like we need to be here. Or somewhere nearby. That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s all I got.¡±


    I gritted my teeth, feeling my heart rate increase. Did his vision just lead us here to die? I wondered, looking up at the ceiling. We wouldn¡¯t be able to get out from whence we came.


    No, Circe, I chastised myself. You can¡¯t think like that.


    I moved the flare in a circular manner, trying to find something of note in this darkness. I was starting to lose hope even more until the light reflected off of something a ways away.


    ¡°Seth,¡± I said hastily, patting his shoulder and gesturing toward what I¡¯d noticed. ¡°Look! A stream. Probably what leads to this underground lake.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll follow you, Circe,¡± he said, huddling down. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not any use here.¡±


    I exhaled lightly, that pervasive sense of death in the air resonating with my blood. I trembled lightly. ¡°Okay. I¡¯m gonna try and follow that stream to see where it goes,¡± I said, already beginning to lead us toward the water. ¡°It would be good if we can find a way out of here, then come back for our wet clothes.¡±


    The sound of my shoes squelching on the stone echoed into the din, nothing responding. The silence was eerie, the kind that almost felt like a noise of its own. The kind that demanded your attention in the same way a subtle whisper did.


    And then I reached the stream, and I felt my heart drop out of my chest.


    It wasn¡¯t a stream that slowly trickled toward the lake. I¡¯d thought the glimpses of red I¡¯d seen were simply the reflections of my flare off the surface of the water, but I¡¯d been wrong.


    It was blood.


    My hands clenched around the flare as I turned slowly, following the slow stream back to its source.


    And I saw a god. Dead, ruby eyes stared out from a face of gray skin. Shattered onyx horns spiraled from their blood-drenched skull, the Vritra judging me like a lesser. I froze utterly, my eyes locked onto the corpse.


    Only a torso remained, the lower half crushed entirely by a large boulder. The Vritra¡¯s arm was outstretched toward us, almost demanding. Accusing.


    My breath sharpened as I began to hyperventilate. In, out. In, out. In, out. In, out.


    By the Sovereigns, I cursed internally, unable to tear my eyes away from the dead body. As if it would just rise again and curse me for my lack of faith. The aura in the air suddenly made far, far more sense as it clenched in around me like the constricting scales of a serpent. It¡¯s here. A god. An asura. It¡¯s dead. Why am I even here? What¨C


    And beside me, Seth began to shake violently, collapsing to the floor as he seized. My mind was torn from the shattered body as my adrenalized mind focused in a scattered way on my baby brother. He groaned as his eyes rolled up into his head, the trembling intensifying.


    I knelt, my body shaking nearly as much as his. ¡°Seth,¡± I cried, terrified. ¡°Seth, please! What¡¯s happening? Are you okay? What¨C¡±


    And as quickly as it had come, it passed. Like a flash of lightning, Seth¡¯s shaking evened out as he heaved for breath.


    And when he looked up at me, it was with a fear and terror fit to match mine. He quickly pushed himself to his feet, his head darting around like a startled prey animal. ¡°We need to go, Circe!¡± he said in a shaky voice. ¡°We need to go right now!¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± I snapped, the stench of copper invading my nostrils. ¡°We need to leave! To get out of here!¡± I felt on the verge of tears, my arms trembling.


    Seth¡¯s attention finally centered on something past the crushed Vritra, his eyes widening. And he didn¡¯t even respond to me, just started running. His boots sank into the blood, red staining his shoes as he darted away from me.


    ¡°Seth!¡± I cried frantically, all my reason and sense abandoning me as fear took hold. The eyes of the dead god flashed dully in my mind as I began to try and chase after my brother. ¡°Seth, no! Don¡¯t go!¡± I pleaded desperately.


    My heart beat like a hammer in my head as I stumbled limply through the darkness, the sound of Seth¡¯s footsteps all that could guide me. The red light from my flare cast consuming shadows everywhere it went. But no matter how fast I ran, I didn¡¯t seem to catch up. All I caught were whispers as terror suffused my entire being.


    Seth was going to get himself killed. My baby brother was running toward something with no care for his wellbeing, drawn by whatever horrid power had taken him in the wake of Spellsong¡¯s healing.


    As I ran, I saw more dead Vritra. One had been pinned to the wall by a massive spear of stone, their core pierced as they hung lifelessly. Another was stuck in an eternal wrestling match with golems of earth as they choked the life from his body. And somehow I registered a rolling skull near my feet with no clear sign of death besides decapitation.


    ¡°You know, Wren Kain, nobody has ever managed to escape the pits of Taegrin Caelum before. Man or asura. That¡¯s a feat worthy of praise,¡± a hissing, pained voice echoed out as I lurched deeper into the darkness. ¡°You might have managed to kill us all if you weren¡¯t stupidly insistent on protecting that husk. But now you¡¯re going to¨C¡±


    The gravelly voice paused, then grunted in surprise. ¡°And what is this?¡±


    Dread power radiated like a graveyard up ahead, but I didn¡¯t even pay that mind as I stumbled forward. I felt half mad as I chased Seth¡¯s footsteps.


    And then I finally caught up to him, and I felt despair.


    Seth stared up at a Vritra in the center of a massive cavern. Dust and debris and destruction painted every inch of the place in shadow, but my eyes could only focus on my brother as he was pinned by the scarlet gaze of the armor-clad woman.


    She had short, reddish-black hair with horns that thrust downward to her chin. Her black battle armor leaked blood from a hundred places, and she was favoring a single arm that held a large axe. Half of her face appeared to have been run across gravel, tearing out her eye and making her gray skin weep crimson. There was someone behind her, too, but I didn¡¯t really see them.


    The Vritra cocked her head. ¡°An unad?¡± she laughed. ¡°A strange plan to escape the blades of the Wraiths, Wren Kain, but a foolish one.¡±


    Seth stared mutely up at the looming figure of the god. I stood frozen, too, only able to really watch as my flare began to sputter sparks like a limb pumping blood.


    And then it all rushed back into focus. I screamed a hoarse cry of terror and fury as I ran forward, cocking my arm back. I hurled the flare in my hand like a knife, throwing it toward the Vritra as my fingers scrambled for the dagger on my hip.


    The Vritra winced as the light reached them, shying away with a slight snarl. ¡°Pathetic lessers,¡± she hissed, the flare bouncing ineffectually off their black armor. ¡°Get out of my way.¡±


    And then the Vritra swung their axe. Casually, I watched as the flat of it struck Seth in the chest. I could hear him break, the strike rumbling through his small, frail body as it flew like a broken doll.


    He hit the wall in a wet crunch. I screamed tears as I finally reached this monster, swinging my dagger down as I tried to aim for their wretched heart.


    The thing caught my arm with the same contemptuous ease as it had struck my brother. She snarled as she looked down at me, clenching her gauntleted fingers around my wrist.


    My bones crumpled like a tin can, blood spurting between her fingers as she stared down at me. She hefted me up by my arm, roughly dangling me as she hefted her axe.


    She killed Seth. And now she was going to kill me.


    How could I have ever worshiped them? I thought through the pain and grief and horror, my dagger clattering to the floor. How did I think this was a being worthy of my faith?


    ¡°You¡¯re like a gnat,¡± the beast hissed down at me, blood sizzling beneath its teeth. ¡°How an unad and a wretched little sentry got here, I have no clue. But after I¨C¡±


    The Vritra coughed, their single eye weakly peering down at their armor where it had parted. Blood streamed from their mouth anew as a spike of earth slowly erupted from her chest, right where her core should¡¯ve been.


    The monster dropped me, allowing me to hit the ground with a flop. They stumbled backward, forgetting about me entirely.


    ¡°Typical lessuran,¡± a pained voice said from further away. ¡°Even as you slay deities, you forget how mortal you are.¡±


    I didn¡¯t hear the voice. Not really. I didn¡¯t even really feel my obliterated wrist as I stared at Seth¡¯s weakly sputtering form. Blood pooled around him, red and stark and wrong.


    I pulled myself to shaky legs, not fully conscious as I hobbled over to the body of my brother. His eyes stared up at me pleadingly as I knelt weakly by his side. Begging me, his big sister, to do something.


    I wrenched out a sob as I pressed my forehead into Seth¡¯s chest. He didn¡¯t even seem to be able to make a sound beyond wet gurgles, his end slow and painful.


    The Doctrination always promised valiant deaths. Deaths that brought meaning to our Sovereigns in our small lives. But where was the meaning in this?


    ¡°Seth,¡± I sobbed, feeling his bones rattle with every wheezing breath, ¡°Seth, please. Don¡¯t leave me. Not now. Please!¡±


    We¡¯d finally found a way for him to have a life. To not be burdened by his sickness and consigned to a sickbed for eternity beneath a cruel world.


    I felt the distinctive, wrenching urge to pray. That horrible habit that the Doctrination had imbued into me for years on years on years surged up to the edges of my mind.


    Yet praying would do nothing. It was a Vritra who had broken my brother; who had taken him from me.


    But then a frantic, rabid thought wormed its way to the front of my mind. Like a star in the darkness, I remembered the only person who had ever noticed Seth and me. Who had ever heard our plights and assuaged our suffering. And I felt my blood tremble in my veins.


    I looked up toward the ceiling of this cave, my body limp and weak as I knelt. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the last kindling ember of my faith find something to latch onto.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± I wheezed, kneeling over Seth¡¯s body like a devout faithful, ¡°please.¡±


    That single word carried so much of me as I sent out my prayer. I bundled every ounce of my gratitude and fear and anger and love and passion and everything into that tiny little word. The prayer I uttered, like a single feather thrown to the breeze, echoed from my lips with a grim silence.


    But nothing came. The room remained dim and dark, quiet save for Seth¡¯s dying breaths. Because why would it? Prayers were never answered. Spellsong himself had told me that it wasn¡¯t my faith that saved Seth before.


    And as my final, desperate prayer went unanswered, something in me broke. As I knelt like a groveling petitioner before an altar, I realized that I¡¯d never had a single prayer be noticed.


    I wept silently, staring upward in quiet despair as that realization sank deep, deep into my blood. That nothing I had ever tried had meant anything. That my brother would die at my feet because I¡¯d put faith in those visions of his, because I had faith at all.


    And then I felt it. Like a little ember at first, approaching from the edges of my mind. It cast rays of sunlight across my mind, soothing and warming my very bones. I felt something in my blood resonate with that pulsing star.


    It flowed through me, welcomed in like floodgates. Coursing power of a kind I could never put into words rushed in orange-purple weaves along my bones, banishing my aches and pains. The chill that had made my teeth chatter in unending rattles was banished by the warmth of a hearth. The crushed bones of my wrist reknit under the tender care of something truly divine.


    I stared down in gaping awe at the light misting from my body, given freely. I felt my heart pounding in some strange resonance as that burning ember gave me what I needed. As it answered my prayer.


    I reached out my hands, feeling a kindling fire roar from within my soul. I pulled on that light, using that warm sun to guide me along. To show me what I needed to do, like a parent watching over my shoulder.


    Seth watched the light as it misted from my fingers, his eyes barely comprehending as his breath began to slow. But I knew him. I knew his struggles with his sickness, knew how it made him feel worthless and useless. I knew that feeling of hopelessness. But I also knew the utter joy and elation he¡¯d felt at the sense that he could truly walk and run again.


    Memories of our shared experiences ran through my mind like a cascading tidal wave as my hands rested over his chest, little misting dewdrops of dawnlight leaking down into his chest in a perfect mirror of the very first time.


    I called to his heart in a way that Spellsong showed, and his heart responded.


    Seth¡¯s body slowly healed. His ribs re-sutured themselves. His internal organs realigned as their pulped flesh became whole once more. My brother was reborn in fire and light, brought back from the very brink.


    He coughed blood as he lay limply, exhausted despite the sudden healing. The light suffusing my blood drifted away, the powers I¡¯d used¡ªI¡¯d channeled¡ªleaving my spirit as their use was done. I felt as that warm, happy light wrapped me in its understanding embrace for a moment. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Because he knew what it was like to lose a brother before their eyes. He knew what it was like to see their life¡¯s blood drain onto the stones. He knew what it was like to fight and struggle.


    And then it was gone, finally misting away. I stared weakly upward, unable to feel. To truly understand.


    Footsteps echoed out on the stone as a figure slowly approached. I turned my head to the side, looking at the broken and battered god.


    But that was wrong. This wasn¡¯t a god. It was simply an asura, the same one that had been threatened by the Vritra from before. Their greasy hair was matted with blood, and they were covered in a million wounds that bled slowly. And they were holding someone in their arms.


    I met the asura¡¯s eyes, noting their beetle-black color. I might have felt fear before. Fear that they would strike me down for being lesser, would break me for intruding on their battle.


    But that rekindled ember in my chest gave me faith. I would not die here. This asura would not strike me down; could not strike me down.


    ¡°It has been a long time since I¡¯ve seen something I didn¡¯t understand, lesser,¡± he muttered, clutching that ash-haired husk closer to himself. ¡°That light. The color of it¡­ I¡¯d recognize it anywhere.¡± He grunted in pain, shifting before spitting out a wad of blood. ¡°What was it? How did you¡­ It shouldn¡¯t be possible. She¡¯s dead.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond for a moment, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything that had just happened. But something seemed clear despite it all.


    ¡°I had faith,¡± I said numbly in reply. ¡°I was answered.¡±


    The asura crumpled to a sitting position, groaning in pain as they did so. They clung tightly still to the body in their arms as if it were the last thing in the world.


    I thought it funny as I stared at the being in front of me. Not long ago, I might have bowed and scraped. But for the first time, I could see the oh-so-human emotion in their eyes as they stared down at the corpse in their arms. Those thin arms trembled.


    ¡°Faith,¡± he uttered weakly. ¡°Something you lessers have so much of. In spades and spades. It never seems to run out.¡±


    He let out a low, humorless chuckle as a tear traced down the edge of his eye. It splashed brokenly against the body in his arms. ¡°Tell me, human,¡± he said in a shattered voice. ¡°How do you keep your faith when everything you love breaks away?¡±


    Seth¡¯s breath rose and fell in an even rhythm. As I finally started to piece things together, I felt a strange sense of calm in my bones. ¡°That¡¯s when it¡¯s the most important,¡± I whispered. ¡°When it seems that everything is gone.¡±


    It was strange, understanding the truth¡­ The asura weren¡¯t gods. None of them. Not Toren, either. But there was something up there above even them, guiding it all. Sending visions and insight down¡­ It had guided me here. Guided me to Toren in a way that could only be divine.


    It must have guided Toren, too, pushing him on currents. He¡¯d healed Seth, hadn¡¯t he? Opening the way for whatever it was to bestow its sight?


    Almost as if it were¡­ destined.


    Fated.

 Chapter 264: The Dragon Within

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Asclepius


    I pulled back from my sense of the soul, a strained breath leaving my body. I leaned forward from where I¡¯d been sitting cross-legged, my hands clenching around my knees. My heartrate wasn¡¯t exactly fast, but it was uneven.


    Circe Milview, I thought distantly, blinking as I relived memories of Norgan¡¯s death. How it felt superimposed over her emotions. And Seth. What happened to him?


    I knew Seth was healed, now. Whatever¡­ however Circe had managed to channel my abilities¡ª


    A worried hand clasped my shoulder. I looked up, noting a phoenix as they looked down at me with visible worry. ¡°Are you well, young blood?¡± he asked in a concerned tone. ¡°We sensed¡­ a disturbance in you. A break in your emotions that was unnatural.¡±


    I blinked, remembering where I was. I was meditating in one of the glades of the Sunswept Gardens with many of my clanmembers. It was something of a tradition here every morning to center oneself and cultivate both mana and serenity. Aurora herself was off somewhere else doing the same thing as she caught up with her loved ones. For now, our bond was distant and slightly muted as we allowed ourselves time to grow and mesh with our family.


    And speaking of family, many of the other Asclepius members had broken from their trances as well and were staring at me with burning orange eyes laced with concern.


    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± I replied hesitantly, recognizing the man who¡¯d asked after me¡ªSundren, one of the older phoenixes. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ something happened. When I¡¯m meditating, I¡¯m closer to my soul. And just now, I¡­ felt something.¡±


    I rolled my words around in my mouth, trying to find the right way to describe it. I hadn¡¯t been truly in the Sea of my Soul, but I¡¯d been coasting about the edges of it. Feeling the dips and weaves and mists of my essence.


    And I¡¯d felt a sort of¡­ cry. A resonating tug on my being that echoed of grief-despair-faith-pain-death. A terrible, mournful plea that resounded with the true language of souls as it washed over me.


    It was a familiar emotion. And when I¡¯d answered the call¡ªthe same way I¡¯d followed Tessia Eralith¡¯s soul to her body when she¡¯d been attacked in Zestier¡ªI¡¯d been able to heal Circe¡¯s wounds. But her emotions hadn¡¯t settled from that.


    And then she¡¯d done something. Something I didn¡¯t really understand as my power resonated with her blood. Like a sort of¡­ pseudo bond, she¡¯d drawn on my insight to heal her brother.


    I turned my head, looking in the direction I knew the two resided now. Far, far, far, far to the northwest, Circe knelt in Alacrya with her brother.


    Ever since Seris had expressed her uncertainty about how I peered at her soul, I¡¯d restrained myself from actively looking at the spirits of those I could see. Arthur, Sylvie, Tessia, Cylrit, Seris, Naereni, Sevren, Wade¡­ Though I could see them, I kept my eyes averted. It was Agrona¡¯s domain to pick apart the mind and tear away a person¡¯s deepest secrets. I would not do so without the consent of those in question.


    But this was the first time someone had called out to me.


    ¡°Someone called out with their soul,¡± I said quietly, my eyes unfocused. ¡°I answered them.¡±


    The phoenixes about me shifted, looking with a mix of interest and worry. Sundren slowly sat himself down, the grass bending like a graceful dancer beneath his loose robes. ¡°Called to you with their soul¡­¡± he said slowly, sharing a few uncertain looks with the rest of the clan gathered.


    ¡°The soul¡­ Our heartfire arts are potent with the Vessel. The soul was the domain of¡­ others,¡± Aubuen¡ªa younger phoenix¡ªsaid. A solemn silence slowly grew throughout the glade, silver-barked leaves reflecting light in orange ribbons in a truly fantastical way. But despite the alluring and almost phantasmal glow, I suddenly realized that no wind blew through this little slice of attempted paradise.


    I had only been with these asura for a few days as Aurora and I prepared for the coming Forum, but already I felt like I had known them for a decade. The way their intent and emotions seeped through and around me was so like my own that I felt each phoenix had watched me grow through my childhood and into the person I was now.


    If the basilisks were creatures of decay and cold, apathetic science, then phoenixes were beings of passion. They felt each emotion in their hearts with the greatest potency possible. When they felt joy, it was with every cell of their body, with every swell of mana. When they were confronted with a challenge, no matter how small, their drive and conviction swelled like a bonfire.


    And when they felt grief, it was with every sense of their soul.


    I felt that sudden switch as Aubuen¡¯s words resounded across the glade. With every stretch of sound, the emotions of those present dipped. From the tranquil serenity of meditation to an almost wrenching, overwhelming grief.


    Aubuen looked away. Sundren slumped, and Soleil ground his teeth. Lithen simply opted to shut his eyes tightly.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I started, feeling worried that such a topic brought those close to me to such sudden grief. ¡°What¡ª¡±


    ¡°It is nothing of consequence,¡± Lithen lied in a poor attempt to deflect my inquiry. I could almost taste the pain radiating through his emotions as he ignored my words. ¡°If you wish to learn more of the soul, then speak with Mordain. He is the only one that can assist you in your unique quest for insight.¡±


    I worked my jaw, sensing that I¡¯d somehow stumbled across something raw and painful.


    But before I could ask more¡ªor apologize¡ªI felt another resonant pull on my soul.


    It was like what Circe Milview had somehow done, but also not. It wasn¡¯t nearly as full or desperate as what she¡¯d tried. More measured and purposeful rather than a cry of despair into the void.


    ¡°Toren,¡± a voice feathered through my spirit, ¡°talk with me.¡± sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I perked up, turning my head to the side as I sensed the source of the call to my soul. It was a strange thing. Like I heard something without hearing. Smelt an aroma without smelling. Felt an emotion without feeling it.


    ¡°Our prince calls for you,¡± Lithen said quietly, noting my sudden attention. ¡°Mayhaps he has answers to your inquiries, young blood. Do not tarry here long when he calls. It is always for a good reason.¡±


    I slowly stood, looking over the meditating asura. They¡¯d managed to pull their sorrow back beneath their feathered wings with surprising swiftness, but¡­


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back when I can,¡± I promised, before I began to walk from the glade.


    It was only when I reached the far exit of the Sunswept Gardens that I realized something.


    There was only one other people whose aetheric arts were potent enough to reach the soul. One other people who might instill such grief into the Asclepius clan.


    The djinn.


    ¡ª


    It was easy to find Mordain. His strange form of soul-telepathy gave me a vague sense of spatial location, just as every other interaction with a soul had done for me. But what wasn¡¯t simple was the place I found him in.


    Mordain¡¯s personal study was far more homey than I would have expected from the head of an asuran clan. A dozen knick-knacks and items that felt weighty pressed against my senses in ways I couldn¡¯t quite define. Bookshelves lined the walls, each and every tome appearing simultaneously old as the continent, but also fresh from the pen of whatever author had put down their words.


    Just like Mordain himself, I thought, noting the lounging phoenix. And the room itself¡­


    It was constructed of the same, gleaming marble as the rest of the hearth, with dark Charwood accents and runic filigree inlaid throughout. But above all else, what surprised me the most was that it was the exact same as Roa¡¯s, in everything except decoration.


    ¡°You look surprised, Toren Asclepius,¡± Mordain mused, lounging casually in an admittedly comfortable-looking chair. The runes underneath his eyes flickered warmly. ¡°An ember for your thoughts?¡±


    I slotted my hands into my pockets, tracing the mana in whatever small way I could throughout the room. ¡°I¡¯m a little surprised, is all. You¡¯re the head of the Clan. I thought you¡¯d have something¡­ I don¡¯t know. Grander.¡±


    The phoenix shrugged, gesturing to another seat across from him. His long, orange hair brushed well past his shoulders¡ªnotably longer than mine. ¡°At my age, I¡¯ve learned to recognize that it''s the smaller things that tend to give life meaning. They have a way of keeping score, especially on lives as long as ours.¡±


    I meandered over to the seat, inspecting the well-worn leather. As I sat down in the plush, comfortable chair, I decided to push away the thought that it was likely older than any civilization on this continent. ¡°Considering the way you called me, are you finally going to show me a thing or two about the soul?¡± I asked, dwelling on all the expectations I¡¯d built.


    As Aurora had talked to me and guided me along my path, I had become increasingly aware that the only one who could truly guide me along my journey was Mordain. And though I enjoyed spending time with my family, I knew that these aspects of my power needed more direction; especially after whatever the hell it was that Circe Milview had done.


    ¡°I do not wish to disappoint you,¡± Mordain said, leaning his cheek onto a propped fist, ¡°but I can not yet lend you knowledge on the Soul.¡±


    I let out an irritated sigh, my shoulders loosening. ¡°Is it because I¡¯m actually trying to act on my future knowledge?¡± I pushed out with a huff. ¡°That seems incredibly shortsighted of you.¡±


    Visions of the letter Mordain had sent me burned at the back of my vision. The deaths. The people, all laid at my feet. Because I¡¯d changed the future.


    Mordain didn¡¯t react to my words, instead choosing to remain seated. Unaffected and unmoved.


    ¡°That would be hypocritical of you, Mordain,¡± I bit out, feeling the temper I¡¯d restrained break past my barriers for a moment. I fidgeted, leaning forwards in my seat. ¡°You trained Rinia and Lania Darcassan as seers, but you won¡¯t train me?¡±


    ¡°I can understand why you would misinterpret my words, Toren Asclepius,¡± the Lost Prince said, tilting his chin downwards slightly. ¡°I cannot teach you while the Forum still goes on. Mana, martial arts¡­ These won¡¯t influence any potential victory. But the soul will. And I must remain impartial.¡±


    That sentence wasn¡¯t just about the Forum. I could read between the lines, see the stance Mordain was presenting.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll always remain impartial?¡± I pushed, stilling myself as I smoothed out my irritation. ¡°Even though you can see the future itself, you opt to sit on the sidelines?¡±


    The phoenix nodded slowly. ¡°A simplification,¡± he allowed, then tilted his head. ¡°But it is not in the Hearth¡¯s interest to step out onto the world stage. They can make such a decision on their own, of course, and should they take that step I will follow.¡±


    ¡°Then what about Rinia and Lania?¡± I countered. ¡°They learned here. They were trained by you here, and then set out to use their powers.¡±


    The Lost Prince looked older again, that strange shift in his ethereal, eternally youthful projection letting in the wear and tear. ¡°My sight of the future is not perfect, and I have never claimed it to be as such,¡± he said softly. ¡°I am most skilled in scrying the outcomes of the immediate short term. Of hours and days, rather than months or years. There are some absolutes that I can weigh the probabilities of¡ªthat are almost always guaranteed to come about, no matter my intervention¡ªbut I admit that my sight of the distant future is deeply flawed.


    ¡°So I found two elves who had the gift of foresight in their blood, instilled from the ancient djinn. And over the years, I taught them what I had learned from my own escapades, and what the last of the People of Life left behind. For a purpose. But I was wrong to do so, in the very end.¡±


    I rested my elbows on my knees, working my jaw as I filtered this information away. I thought I could glimpse the final throughline that he was trying to get me to reach. ¡°And those two could see farther, couldn¡¯t they? With more accuracy?¡±


    But if Mordain couldn¡¯t even see the future¡ªand if Rinia acted independently of him, now¡ªthen that removed any possible excuse for his inaction. It wasn¡¯t as if he foresaw an event that justified it all: he just sat still. Refused to move.


    And Rinia is working to try and change the future, I thought angrily, finally forcing myself to stand. The seer was currently gathering resources to prepare for the aftermath of the war and create rebellion from within. Which was more than Mordain did.


    ¡°You chastised me for intervening in the world, Mordain,¡± I said, my body swelling with mana and indignation. ¡°You sent a letter blaming me for the deaths of thousands. Thousands, because of my actions.¡±


    My fists clenched at my sides, my nails nearly drawing blood from my palms. ¡°So tell me why.¡±


    My intent warped around me, carrying all my desperate agitation. Like a sweltering summer day that only wished to warm, but could not help its intensity, my aura cloyed at the edges of Mordain¡¯s. Begging that he would give me something that wouldn¡¯t leave me with hatred.


    The Lost Prince¡¯s features took on a solemn expression like a well-worn coat, each of the threads of exhaustion fitting perfectly over limbs of skin. He slowly stood, his cream-colored robes flowing with him. ¡°I need to show you something. I think we should get to know each other better, and this study is not the place.¡±


    ¡ª


    A room nearly as vast as the Sunswept Gardens greeted me as I exited a marble tunnel. The walls were covered in silver sconces and autumn-fire leaves, of course, and the scents of cinnamon and hickory and home still pervaded everywhere.


    But what truly drew my eye were the countless floating islands all across the room. Each was held aloft by a swirling vortex of wind beneath. Those tiny islands¡ªeach about as large as I was¡ªbore varied arrays of plants and stonework atop of them. Some stood stationary under the effects of their little storms, others rose and fell intermittently, while some drifted about lazily like fish in a stream.


    Every little island had a wax candle atop it of varying sizes. All about the room, small storms gradually grew, churned across the air, and then dissipated once more with a crackling of summer force.


    ¡°Marvelous, isn¡¯t it?¡± Mordain said with amusement, watching my stare of restrained bafflement at the otherworldly display in front of me. ¡°It¡¯s a poor recreation of a featherwick board compared to what we had in the Starbrand Sanctum, but it does have its charm.¡±


    ¡°Featherwick board?¡± I echoed, watching how a specific island seemed to drift upside down and around one of the intermittent storms. It did a little loop-de-loop, like a ballerina performing a graceful flip.


    ¡°It¡¯s an old game of phoenix design,¡± Mordain explained. He rested his hands leisurely in the waistband of his loose robes. ¡°See all the candles? They¡¯re all lit before the game starts, and the objective of each player is to snuff out as many candles as they can at once.¡±


    I tracked my eyes back to the Lost Prince of the Asclepius clan. ¡°With magic?¡± I asked skeptically.


    The runes beneath Mordain¡¯s eyes flickered warmly in tune with his eyes. ¡°Not at all.¡± He withdrew his hands from his waistband, revealing something in them. ¡°With our feathers, of course.¡±


    I blinked in surprise at the familiar aura radiating from the item in Mordain¡¯s hands, remembering a time long ago when I¡¯d held a mirror of it. A phoenix feather nestled there, glimmering with a healthy orange sheen.


    ¡°If you wish to play a game with me, I¡¯d be happy to provide what feathers I have to spare,¡± he said amiably. ¡°There are many variations of the game, but we can choose the simplest so as not to overwhelm a new player.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I considered this for a moment before shaking my head. I waved my hand, focusing on my regalia as I conjured a vein of heartfire, before layering it with a telekinetic shroud. Mordain had brought me here intentionally. He wanted to prove some sort of point.


    The result was a glimmering feather of crystalline mana that sat lightly in my hand and refracted dawnlight. I flourished it through my fingers, staring at Mordain with a raised brow. ¡°Will this work?¡±


    Mordain inspected it for a moment, his eyes flashing with a hue of orange. ¡°So long as you don¡¯t manipulate it with that spellform of yours, then I think it¡¯s a fair substitute. I can take the first move so you can grasp what the objective is.¡±


    The phoenix snapped his fingers, and suddenly every single candlewick was alight with tiny orange flames. The Lost Prince¡¯s control was so absolute that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to tell the fires were even lit with mana without looking at them.


    It was eerie.


    ¡°You cannot cross this line before your throw,¡± the man said casually, strolling to the edge of the massive array of floating islands. ¡°And you cannot use magic to influence the feather after it has left your hand. Try to cut the wick of your target, and the fire will go out. The objective is to put out more fires than your opponent. Observe, Toren Asclepius.¡±


    The Lost Prince casually cocked back his arm, tilting his head like Aurora always did whenever she focused. The feather between his fingers glistened with a soft light, and from its sheen, I could not tell if it was sharp like a blade or unweighted like cotton.


    Then the asura threw the feather. Contrary to my expectations, it didn¡¯t break the sound barrier from an explosion of force or zip about unnaturally. It flew forward like a paper airplane at a leisurely pace, moving toward the ground below us.


    I furrowed my brow, seeing immediately that it would hit the ground. But instead, something strange happened.


    One of those unpredictable storms suddenly churned into existence, a small tornado rising upward from the ground in a manner that would be impossible in nature. The little tempest caught the feather, pulling it in a swirl of orange as it flew higher and higher.


    One of the drifting islands intercepted the tempest, and I watched as the interplay caused the tiny storm to finally break away. It unraveled from within, the wind expanding outward. The little feather was thrown unnaturally far by the collision.


    My eyebrows rose slightly as Mordain¡¯s feather gracefully crested over another floating island, before its paradoxically sharp edge casually snipped one candle¡¯s wick.


    The fire went out, and the feather finally drifted to the island¡¯s base unscathed.


    ¡°This is not the most impressive of plays, of course,¡± Mordain said with candid humility, ¡°but I assume you grasp the measure of this game?¡±


    I nodded slowly, stepping up to the throwing line. My eyes traced the dozens of floating islands and shifting storms, imagining a charted path in my mind. I meshed myself with my senses, feeling the air, the push and pull of mana everywhere about me.


    ¡°Say, Mordain,¡± I said, my eyes intent on a faraway wick as it burned merrily, ¡°how much of me can you see?¡±


    The Lost Prince was silent for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re quick to ask questions, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re quick to give a nonanswer,¡± I countered, subtly aligning my shot. ¡°The entire reason we¡¯re here is so we can ¡®get to know each other better,¡¯ isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Mordain sighed. He bore an air of eternal youth and impossible grace about him like a cloak, but the way his eyes aged in that split instant told me how ancient he was. ¡°An aura of rebirth clings to you, Toren,¡± he said simply. ¡°It is clear enough from that that you¡¯re a reincarnate.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders. ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°The future knowledge you spoke of¡­ It is taken from Earth. The same Earth as the others reincarnates, just from a different time. I truthfully do not understand how it came to be.¡±


    I threw my feather. While Mordain had casually let his catch the wind, I hurled mine like a throwing knife. The currents of air brushed and redirected it as it curved around a surging tempest, before expertly severing a wick that floated closer to the ground. My mana dissipated the moment my shot was successful.


    I stepped back, feeling satisfied. I looked at Mordain, tilting my head inquisitively. ¡°Very astute,¡± I said, my tone laced with a bit of sarcasm. ¡°And how did you figure that out?¡±


    ¡°Your soul cannot lie,¡± Mordain said simply, stepping back up to the plate. He flourished a hand, conjuring another feather from thin air. ¡°And as far as I can tell, neither can you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve chosen to treat it as a virtue rather than a flaw,¡± I commented, watching as Mordain leisurely readied another shot. ¡°Honesty is a path of insight in and of itself.¡±


    ¡°Coming to this world must have been a unique experience,¡± the Lost Prince remarked, ¡°even if your nature as Twinsoul made it easier. There were no asura in your old world, after all. No energies beyond aether itself and the long-forgotten ki arts of days past and future.¡±


    He tossed his feather higher this time. It coasted for a while, drifting down before it got caught in another rising tempest. ¡°I must question what it was like, living in another world. Did every breath taste the same? Did every smell elicit the same memories? When you touch your skin, do you feel your flesh, or that of another?¡±


    The questions left me feeling strangely philosophical. In the Hearth, an undertone of cinnamon always tickled my nose, and I could feel a breeze coasting along my arms as if I were standing on a great precipice before the winds.


    ¡°It was a change,¡± I admitted, feeling uncomfortable but unwilling to let it show. ¡°But I¡¯ve seen far more alike than separate.¡±


    I rarely ever talked with anyone about my previous life, and the candid way Mordain spoke about my deepest secret unnerved me. I tried to keep my voice even and companionable, but it was difficult.


    Not that it would matter. He can see my soul in some way. Discern my innermost self from that.


    I would have to get Seris flowers of some sort when I returned to Burim. Maybe a puzzle. I suddenly felt like I had a far better idea of how she felt whenever I peeled away her masks.


    ¡°But I did adapt, as you can see. Even thrived in my own right,¡± I said, watching with narrowed eyes as Mordain¡¯s feather approached another island. I thought for a moment that it was about to sever a wick, but it drifted past it instead.


    ¡°Ah, your nest-mate. I will admit that a lessuran with basilisk blood is an¡­ unconventional choice,¡± Mordain said leisurely. ¡°And this comes from me. I¡¯m known for breaking many traditions. I got a bad reputation for it back in Epheotus. Klethra especially cemented that.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, not recognizing the name Klethra, but unwilling to let myself be sidetracked. Mordain had guessed that I¡¯d been thinking about Seris¡­ Or had he read my mind? I let out a breath as Lost Prince¡¯s feather finally snuffed the life from a candle wick. ¡°Well, considering my mother grew to love a djinn¡ªand no doubt many of the phoenixes of the clan did, too¡ªI think that says something about what is possible.¡±


    Mordain shrugged. ¡°That is different,¡± he replied, slipping his hands into his belt again. ¡°There was an inborn compatibility between our races. We had two reflections of life cast through our very blood. The djinn were known as the People of Life for a reason, for they made true life possible. They made the most of their short lives, creating works of art and beauty to ease the struggle of existence. In turn, we of the Asclepius endeavored to push our existence with each Sculpting. There was a middle ground in these paths. You¡¯ve felt in your blood what it is like when opposites collide.¡±


    Mordain¡¯s old eyes¡ªall too knowing¡ªflicked to me, then toward the setting line. I couldn¡¯t sense his intent.


    I exhaled, walking up to the throwing line again as I filtered the phoenix¡¯s words through my blood. I remembered the clash of my Phoenix Will and long-gone basilisk blood. How they hated each other on a fundamental level, seeking to tear each other apart. Then again how Seth Milview¡¯s Vritra heritage tore and battered at his djinni ancestry, causing his blood sickness.


    I conjured a glimmering shrouded feather between my fingers, my eyes following an unseen path as I let my blood tell me of the air. ¡°It¡¯s not as black and white as you¡¯re proposing, though,¡± I countered. I¡¯d granted Seth his health back. I¡¯d found love with Seris Vritra, a Scythe of the deepest basilisk heritage. I¡¯d forged a community between Alacrya and dwarf both, and showed highbloods what it meant to stand up with and for the weak. ¡°Your implications aren¡¯t lost on me, Mordain, about what you mean about wider integration between asura and ¡®lesser¡¯ peoples. You¡¯re wrong, though. The Hearth shows this. You can¡¯t dismiss this so simply by saying your peoples were compatible, because there were just as many incompatibilities.¡±


    I threw my feather. It arced upward as the currents granted it lift, glimmering with a crystalline sheen. Then a descending tempest neared. The turbulence altered the course of my feather slightly, sending it in a diagonally downward streak.


    ¡°Your clan were hunters. The greatest of predators in Epheotus. Yet the djinn were a people of true pacifism. Your aetheric arts are focused on the Self only, while the djinn could take the World into their palms and share it with everyone.¡± My feather sheared through one candlewick, but still, it continued downwards in an errant fall. ¡°And though each djinn had limited existence, phoenixes are the only asura who have a claim to truly infinite life.¡±


    Another candlewick was extinguished as my feather¡¯s edge cut through the thin twine like a knife severing a hangman¡¯s rope.


    Mordain nodded approvingly. ¡°Good on you for spotting this part of the game, Toren,¡± he said. ¡°You are indeed encouraged to extinguish as many candles as you can at one time.¡±


    The leader of the Asclepius clan stepped up to the plate as I moved away, my limbs feeling strangely tense. ¡°I suppose that makes it three to two in your favor. I¡¯ll have to try a bit harder, considering you¡¯ve gotten the hang of this faster than any other I¡¯ve met.


    ¡°And on the topic of what you just said,¡± the phoenix continued, casually tossing his feather into the wind, ¡°it is a solid counterargument. But it doesn¡¯t account for the sheer difference in power between asura and ¡®lessers.¡¯ ¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noted as Mordain¡¯s feather flew about like a bird on the wing. But for the first time, he looked at me directly. ¡°There is a reason that the humans on this continent revere the asura as deities, Toren Asclepius. Because when it comes to the power even the lowest of us can wield, that is what we are. Windsom likes to prattle on in faux-humility about how we asura aren¡¯t truly gods, but what a god is is a subjective thing.¡± Mordain tilted his head as his feather snuffed out a far-away candleflame, inspecting me with ever-so-slightly sorrowful eyes. ¡°We phoenixes live for uncountable years. Our powers eclipse all of the races native to Dicathen and Alacrya by orders of magnitude. And whether that qualifies us as gods or not is irrelevant.¡±


    Mordain¡¯s feather snuffed out another fire as it slowly drifted downwards. ¡°Because there is an innate difference in power between us, and nearly every other creature we encounter. And it is that difference in power that demands we keep our weapons sheathed.¡±


    Those glimmering tufts of orange didn¡¯t sever the next wick. The feather coasted down upon the fire itself, quickly suffocating it of oxygen.


    Five to three.


    And here we were. The ultimate reason why we were both at this board, playing this game. Why Mordain clung to his inaction in the face of every evil in the world around him, and why he wished the Hearth to stay in isolation. Anger rose at this, but I forced it down. Now was a time for debate, not impassioned degradations of my opponent¡¯s character.


    ¡°You seem to think that because you have more power than those around you, you cannot use it,¡± I said as I took my stance at the throwing line. Sweat beaded slightly between my fingers as the tension of this game began to increase. Though I knew my hold on my telekinetic feather would not slip as I stared at the array of floating islands and turbulent storms, my pulse still reminded me of the edge. ¡°But that ignores everything that can be done with power.¡±


    I lined up my shot, narrowing my eyes as I let my blood sing into my ears. I remembered the currents of force I¡¯d grown attuned to. I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ¡°With power comes obligation, Mordain,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It is our duty as those with strength to use it for the greater good of those around us. Even if the future may be bleak, even if our chances are slim. That is our burden.¡±


    I reared my arm back, preparing to throw. I planned on snuffing out at least four of the candles this time, with a low chance of striking a fifth.


    ¡°Kezess Indrath said the same thing to me before the founding of the Great Eight,¡± Mordain lamented, the wrinkles on his face deepening in a way that made him look like a corpse. ¡°That belief is what secured my allegiance.¡±


    My arm stuttered and shook as I threw the feather, the uttered words breaking my careful equilibrium into a million shards.


    Instead of a graceful curve, my feather shot forwards, almost striking the targeted wick. Instead, it buried itself deep into the rock of a floating island.


    I turned to the Lost Prince robotically, this game forgotten in its entirety for the moment. I looked into his eyes, seeing a profound sorrow there.


    ¡°Kezess Indrath saw the state of terrible war that gripped all of Epheotus. That had gripped it for countless millennia. And when he became The Absolute, he decided that he possessed an inborn duty to use his strength for the betterment of the world. I followed Kezess Indrath in his warring, Toren Asclepius,¡± he said, his shoulders slumping. ¡°I was the first he sought to recruit, you know. He came bearing ideals of eventual peace and unity. And what better statement that he meant what he claimed than to draw the oldest of enemies¡ªthe dragons and the phoenixes¡ªinto alliance? And peace was achieved between our clans. We even commemorated it with a saying. Let rest,¡± the Lost Prince uttered sourly. ¡°Let rest all our past burdens. Let rest all our past bloodshed. Let rest our animosity.


    ¡°It was only when I met J¡¯ntarion¡ªthe Watcher of the djinn, and one of the very last yet living¡ªthat my delusions were checked. The feather I gave him was used as the catalyst for your Sculpting. The very foundations of your being prove the folly of your words.¡±


    ¡°Am I anything like Kezess?¡± I countered, grinding my teeth at the implications. ¡°Is my soul anything like his? Can you look at me and mean that?¡±


    Mordain shook his head, his deep orange hair swaying as he closed his eyes. ¡°I apologize for the implication that you are like the Lord of the Dragons. You are not.¡±


    He stepped back up toward the game line, a feather already between his fingers. I felt some sort of pulse in the air; a flex of heartfire that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to sense if I hadn¡¯t been listening so acutely.


    Then he opened his eyes, and I saw infinity.


    I felt a pulse radiate across my very soul that made it shudder. Like a swallo watching the forest it had always known burn for miles around it, I felt my very essence tremble as the weight of something great and vast and beyond rippled through me. Mordain¡¯s eyes were not focused on me as they shone with light the color of a waxing dawn, but I felt seared by the heat regardless.


    I remembered what it had been like within the depths of my soul as I embraced Soulplume. As the normally serene waters instead became raging, angry seas that thrashed and fought against their bounds. I remembered the sensation of my spirit swelling from the inside, like a balloon being filled with too much air.


    This was not like that. This was like standing beneath the shadow of a boot as it threatened to come down on your very mind.


    And then Mordain threw his feather, just as that impossible expanse simmered away. I inhaled a shuddering breath as my eyes charted that glimmering orange feather as it dipped and weaved like a songbird through the air.


    Mordain did not hold back anymore. He did not even pretend to match my skill. With every turn and twist, his plume of vibrant life struck another wick. It banished another fire. And whenever it drifted close to the ground, as if preordained by cosmic decree, a storm would rise to throw it back into the sky.


    One, five, eight, twelve, fifteen¡­ I watched it in silence, feeling Aurora¡¯s sudden panic as she asked me what was wrong. As our bond reignited from fear and motherly worry at the shudder that had gone through my soul.


    But for now, I didn¡¯t answer her. Even as Mordain¡¯s feather somehow snuffed out every. Single. Candle.


    All but one.


    ¡°It is the duty of those with power to keep it to themselves,¡± Mordain said, staring at the result of his work. ¡°Because even if you are not Kezess; even if you are not Agrona, there is a piece of them inside all of us that desires power. It demands control at the expense of all. Kezess Indrath did not begin as a genocidal warlord. He was once a man, pleading to his fellows to stop the violence. But the use of his power made him into what I failed to see.¡±


    I worked my jaw, my hands clenching at my sides. I exhaled an angry breath as I stared at what was left of the board.


    ¡°You might point to your nest-mate as one who has mastered her inner demons, but she has not. And even if she had, she is yet beneath the leash of a tyrant. In this world, there are only tyrants, Toren Asclepius.¡±


    Mordain looked at me, and for once I thought I could see deep into his soul.


    Fear is what drives all lessers, Seris had once said to me. Afterward, she had demanded I rip away another of her masks. Tell her what she feared.


    And I saw that same fear there in Mordain¡¯s very soul; the same one that held my lover in a grave of her own making.


    ¡°Have you ever known a world where men are free of tyrants?¡± he asked, tilting his head. His orange hair ran over his golden robes like a dying wildfire.


    The room was silent for a time as I absorbed this. ¡°Then that is your stance?¡± I asked, staring at that final ember. It was the furthest away. With the most obstacles and the greatest challenges to its completion. Whirlwinds and stone and dread barred any path to its elimination. ¡°Agrona will destroy the Hearth if he can manage it. You¡¯ll be swept away, just like the ¡®lessers¡¯ of this world. The coming conflict demands the action of all. Agrona heralds the descent of the Legacy.¡±


    Mordain huffed, but it was an empty thing. ¡°You don¡¯t know Kezess¡¯ strength,¡± he said sadly. ¡°Legacy or not, Agrona will fail. Kezess could have laid waste to Alacrya at any time he wished. He alone would be enough. He is Absolute. The only difference is how many bodies trail in the wake of that failure. But Alacrya stands as a unifying force amidst his people. The enemy that keeps them all beneath his yoke. And if the Hearth joins? That number will only grow infinitely higher.¡±


    I settled my stance, gritting my teeth as I glared at that final, flickering fire. Dozens of little islands and tempests blocked my path, but I wouldn¡¯t let it deter me. I wouldn¡¯t let it stop my power.


    My telekinetic regalia burned. Around me, a quarter score tendrils of telekinetic power slowly formed, fuzzing white as they hummed lightly. They spiraled around me, held in place with ease.


    I gestured with my arm, pointing forward. The telekinetic tendrils wove around and through each other, meshing as they stretched in front of me. Like ropes being corded together, five different tethers became one. A spinning accel path formed with record speed in front of me as I lined up my shot.


    This was my answer to the slow buildup of the Stake of the Morning. This was how I made it effective in battle.


    ¡°When you looked into the future a minute ago, Mordain,¡± I said seriously, feeling a slight strain from maintaining the accelerating highway in front of me, ¡°did every path you see result in death?¡±


    The Lost Prince didn¡¯t answer.


    I sneered, then threw my feather into the slipstream. It accelerated with an eardrum-shattering boom as it zipped along the improved pathway. The construct of mana and heartfire blurred forward in a streak of white light, twisting as the accel path rotated it like the barrel of a gun.


    The stones and storms gave my feather no resistance. I stared at the holes that had been sheared through every obstacle in its path, noting how it had utterly obliterated the candle in the following shockwave. A dark hole in the far wall expanded like a yawning pit, my casual strike piercing who-knew-how-deep into the depths of the marble.


    ¡°In my visions of the future, Kezess brought genocide to an entire race. The elves in Elshire were wiped out by the atom-crushing expanse of the World Eater Technique. Millions upon millions died in an instant, and you¡­ you didn¡¯t even intervene. You, who can supposedly peer into the pathways of the future, did not lift a finger to halt the death of an entire race. By your own admission, you could have seen it.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, glaring at that distant hole in the wall. I¡¯d tried to see it from his perspective. I¡¯d tried to ask questions, tried to see Mordain as a good man.


    But I couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°I think I hate you, Mordain Asclepius,¡± I admitted, no longer able to keep my contempt bottled up for Aurora¡¯s sake. ¡°Kezess set out to repeat his swath of endless death. He repeated his actions that led to the deaths of the djinn you claim to have cared for. And I can¡¯t fathom why you would just sit aside. Watch with your all-knowing gaze.¡±


    The Lost Prince was silent as my anger radiated through the air, eddies of intent carrying my rage.


    ¡°Because it would have stopped with only the elves, Toren Asclepius,¡± Mordain said quietly. His voice was infuriatingly patient, the manner of his speech making me feel like a child in a conversation with an adult. ¡°You think like a human with a hundred years ahead of him, not thousands. If I were to confront Aldir Thyestes as he tried his World Eater Technique¡­ There would be a reprisal. Reprisal that would not stop with the elves, would not stop with the humans, and would not stop with the dwarves. That is what Kezess has become.¡±


    I laughed bitterly. Such a utilitarian way to look at countless lives from the leader of a race that could never truly die.


    ¡°If there is a chance of life, Mordain,¡± I said, not looking at him, ¡°then I will take it. Even if it¡¯s hard. Even if it means facing my inner Kezess and Agrona. Because I¡¯m not willing to let the High Sovereign have his way with those I love. I have this power for a reason. I have my knowledge of this world¡¯s future for a reason.¡±


    I turned back to him, clenching my fist as I stared up at him with resolve. ¡°Tell me how many futures you saw where this talk did anything to dissuade me from my course.¡±


    Mordain met my eyes, and in them, I found my answer.


    There were none.

 Chapter 265: The First Hearing

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Asclepius


    The Forumground was familiar. I had never seen about it before, but I had read of it.


    Balconies of black wood encircled a raised platform of gray marble, giving the many gathering phoenixes of the Asclepius Clan a place to sit with ease to peer down at the central platform. Those familiar vines¡ªeach with leaves the color of autumn fire¡ªencircled the pillars of dark wood in an almost caring way. As with everywhere else in the Hearth, those vines inched everywhere I looked, caressing the gray marble and leaving a true sense of wonder and beauty.


    The smells of burning hickory and fall leaves were ever-present as I sat out of sight on the side, covertly watching as more and more phoenixes drifted into the large chamber. I spotted Sundren as he entered with a pair of others, before he drifted up and toward to sit into a seat with the rest of his kin.


    There were no stairs to the balconies, of course. Phoenixes flew.


    A central, raised platform not far from me gave me a place to speak. And inlaid into the gray marble was another thing I had read about in a novel from another world.


    The cityscape of the old Faircity of Zhoroa¨Cone of the djinn¡¯s great bastions of life and learning¨Cstood prominently in etched beauty in a central display.


    At my side, Aurora rested a hand on my shoulder in her usual way. ¡°This will be your time, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You know the rules of the Forum, what it entails.¡±


    I sighed lightly, feeling my nerves tingle from the stress. I would be given three chances to plead my case to the Clan before a deciding vote would be held. The Forum was unique in that it allowed a single member to plead their case to the entire collective Clan, something that Mordain had taken from the long-departed djinn. A way of honoring their memory, I supposed.


    But it also gave me an opportunity. I wanted to call this family of mine to action, and this was the best way. But the price of failure¡­ if the Hearth voted to stay out of Seris¡¯ rebellion, then that would bind Aurora and I, too.


    That just means I can¡¯t fail this, I thought, grinding my teeth as I took a deep breath. Simple.


    I had three chances to take a stand and respond to any questions from my audience. Three chances to sway their hearts and draw them to my point of view.


    Aurora and I had planned our arguments out precisely. I would take the first stand, she the second. And depending on how we were received, we could direct our third and final argument as needed.


    Mordain stepped from the shadows, seeming to glow with his own light as he observed the central podium. Aurora stared at him forlornly, noting the quiet tension between us.


    I knew it hurt her. She loved her brother deeply, and seeing the strained emotion that rippled in the space around us made something in her wither that hurt to feel.


    But regardless of our squabbles, Mordain was here as an arbitrator. He was the mediator of the talks, ensuring everyone who wished to speak would be heard.


    ¡°It seems everyone is gathered,¡± the Lost Prince said, his hands slotted in the waistband of his loose clothes. ¡°Have you made sufficient preparations, Toren?¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, looking out at the crowds gathered around the balcony. Though their hair were all different shades of a hearty campfire¨Cfrom burning orange to smoldering darkness¨Ctheir eyes were like half a thousand breathing embers at the bottom of a dying bonfire as they contrasted the black wood around them.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to do this, Mordain,¡± I said sternly, suppressing my burning contempt for my mother¡¯s sake.


    The asura only sighed, his eyes aging rapidly. ¡°So you shall.¡±


    Mordain didn¡¯t say another word, just stepped up to the central platform. Little motes of orange energy cast rays of faux sunlight about the chamber, granting everything an equal amount of healthy glow.


    But as he took center stage, those lights all shifted as if they had a life of their own. Their rays of light focused like spotlights, rays of luminescence highlighting the phoenix like a performer in a play.


    At that moment, I was briefly reminded of the true nature of the man as he swept his eyes over my clan. I¡¯d forgotten in some way the power this being held, the authority he¡¯d wielded for countless human lifetimes. I¡¯d spoken with him casually, an inherent disregard for normal positions of authority allowing us to debate with surprising candor.


    But as his ageless airs were exemplified by those beams of light, I remembered again. This was an asura. This man was one of the most powerful beings in this entire world.


    ¡°It has been countless years since we last gathered for a Forum,¡± he said, allowing his voice to travel across the sea of orange eyes. ¡°The last was called as news of Lord Indrath¡¯s assault team failed to break Taegrin Caelum so many centuries ago. We had many of us argue for different paths to take, before we finally settled on one: sending a representative to learn more of the Lord of the Vritra. And now, our representative has returned to call another Forum.¡±


    Mordain tilted his head as the collective attention of two hundred asura focused on him. He raised an arm to the side, his robes falling like curtains of molten gold.


    On cue, I stepped forward. I felt my nerves tingle as those eyes watched me with varied emotions.


    Fondness. Uncertainty. Exhaustion. Sorrow. The intents of every phoenix conveyed their emotions to me as Mordain stepped back, giving me the place of speaker.


    Preemptively, I pressed two fingers to my chest, drawing out a vein of heartfire before connecting it to Aurora¡¯s shade. As she suddenly became visible to the majority of her clan, I felt those emotions fluctuate once more.


    ¡°Toren and Aurora Asclepius,¡± Mordain said serenely, ¡°do you swear to uphold the ideals of the Forum, such as they have been told to you? As an Asclepius, will you abide by the will of the clan, no matter the outcome?¡±


    ¡°I swear,¡± I said surely, noting how the chains on my arm flared with red light. I felt this promise settle somewhere in my very soul, binding me in a way I only really understood now. ¡°As part of the Asclepius Clan, I will follow whatever is agreed upon by the whole.¡±


    I¡¯d always held oaths and vows close to my soul. Ever since Trelza¡¯s assertion that they were what separated us from beasts, that had settled somewhere in my spirit as a fundamental truth. Ever since my Oath with Aurora, vows to myself and others were how I kept myself on track.


    The chains on my arm represented the very first I had ever made. If I failed to prevent the descent of the Legacy, the chains that bound my arm would squeeze my core instead. And now another oath sizzled beneath those runes. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That belief is what makes it clench so deeply in my soul, I thought, taking a deep breath as I felt those metaphorical chains constrict. I cannot go against my word.


    Not without consequences.


    ¡°I swear in turn,¡± Aurora said confidently behind me, her voice echoing even as she sent me weaves of comfort. ¡°I will follow what my clan decrees.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s soul was not bound as mine, but I still knew her resolve was as great as mine. I let my gaze travel over the gathered phoenixes as Mordain sank into the background.


    I did this for the people of Alacrya. I did this for Seris. I did this for all the dwarves and humans and elves I knew on Dicathen. Aurora did this because of the horrors of Agrona and the experiments he had wrought on other asura and the dread he had instilled in me.


    But, on some level, we both did this for ourselves.


    ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with most of you,¡± I said, relaxing as I felt Aurora¡¯s warm touch on my shoulder. ¡°Though I arrived a little over a week ago, I¡¯ve had the blessing to meet and speak with this clan of mine. I¡¯ve been given a welcome greater than I could have expected. You all held your arms open as I arrived, showering me with grace and an¡­ understanding that I would have never expected.¡±


    In the crowd, Roa and Lithen smiled slightly. Sundren, Diella, and half a dozen more looked on with warm expressions. Soleil and a few more¡ªthose I recognized as older phoenixes¡ªgazed down at me with disapproval.


    ¡°I want you all to know¡­¡± I closed my eyes, exhaling a shuddering breath. ¡°You all know that part of me is not of this world. When I came here, I did not expect to truly find a family. Find a people that can understand me.¡±


    I opened my eyes, feeling the enclosing attention from two hundred gods as they let me speak. ¡°It is with this in my heart¡ªthis comforting, warm sense of home¡ªthat I must speak something sorrowful. What my mother discovered in the depths of Taegrin Caelum is dark enough for me to risk all of what I¡¯ve already grown to care for.¡±


    I turned my attention back slightly, looking at my bond. She nodded slowly, resting both her hands on my shoulders so that she stood backlit like a guardian angel.


    ¡°I am one of three reincarnates in this world,¡± I said quietly. ¡°And the other two? They are set to be used as anchors.¡±


    I took a deep breath as I felt the attention and tension rise in the Forumground. Distantly, I wondered if the djinn had ever held such a charged Forum. Phoenixes were so innately passionate, so soulful.


    I let the tension draw out for a time. Partly by intent so that it would have that much more impact. Partly because I genuinely struggled to force the words from my mouth.


    ¡°Agrona hopes to call the Legacy down to this world, to use her against the Lord of the Dragons.¡±


    The balconies erupted into hushed whispers and chatter as my words reached them. They didn¡¯t outwardly seem rattled, but the turbulent twist of their intent told me otherwise.


    Those whispers and words started to grow in volume as the Asclepius Clan gradually started to recognize the implications more and more. I heard whispers of dragons and retaliation. Of escalation and wraiths.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to deny him his prize!¡± I said suddenly, my voice echoing with sound magic. The lights seemed to brighten around me, my spotlight becoming that much more intense. ¡°I have sworn an oath to kill an anchor, to deny Agrona Vritra his weapon! But that isn¡¯t why we called this Forum today!


    ¡°This shows how far Agrona will go!¡± I continued, my voice rising as the phoenixes quieted. ¡°He¡¯s willing to bring a soul like that of the Legacy down to this world. He is serious in his bid to unseat Kezess Indrath from his golden throne atop Mount Geolus!¡±


    I distinctly remembered a time long ago when I¡¯d held the attention of a crowd. When I¡¯d first played my intent-laced music to a waiting audience. How I¡¯d pulled and drawn their emotions in tune with mine.


    I can do this, I thought, my resolve hardening as I stared across the listening asura. Seris gave me a task, and I will see it done.


    ¡°There is one planting seeds for a rebellion,¡± I said, more measured this time, but just as firm. I held the attention of my clan¡ªmy family¡ªlike a vise. ¡°From deep within the reaches of Agrona Vritra¡¯s society, there is a dagger poised at his underbelly. It isn¡¯t sharp yet. It can¡¯t cut the scales of a basilisk¡¯s hide. But with the right assistance, it can.¡±


    A phoenix rose from the seats, staring down at me with a cautious expression. Soleil. His bearded face showed the depths of his uncertainty. ¡°This dagger,¡± he said slowly, controlling his emotions. ¡°It is a human, is it not? A Scythe. One of Agrona Vritra¡¯s greatest lessuran tools.¡±


    Aurora had told me that I should expect pushback from him in particular.


    I had expected this question. ¡°Yes,¡± I echoed, focusing on Soleil, but directing my words to all around. ¡°Scythe Seris Vritra has seen the depths of Agrona¡¯s machinations. She knows that all that awaits those beneath the High Sovereign¡¯s boots will be crushed in the clash between Agrona and Kezess.¡±


    ¡°And how can you be certain that her intentions are true?¡± another phoenix echoed, standing up. Aliara, if I recalled correctly. ¡°What makes this nest-mate of yours any better than the wretched basilisks?¡±


    The phoenixes around her looked at her askance, their discomfort clear. The woman seemed to belatedly realize what she¡¯d just said to me, because her intent evened out as she lowered her hand.


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    But she did not yet sit. Even as her eyes averted from mine, she did not withdraw her question. And from the emotion radiating through the rest of the crowd, I was certain that all present wished for an answer to this very question.


    ¡°I can vouch for her character,¡± Aurora said from behind me, standing taller and hovering slightly. ¡°I have seen this woman when she thought herself unseen. I have felt the depths of her emotions through my bond with my son. And through the actions she has taken, I can assure you all of her sincerity.¡±


    I remembered the first time Aurora had interacted with Seris, the way they¡¯d exchanged every bit of barb they could. To hear my bond stand for her warmed my heart.


    Thank you, Aurora, I thought. Thank you. ¡°Alongside this, Seris has taken steps throughout the war between Dicathen and Alacrya to ensure the survivors on the Dicathian can mount an eventual resistance. I could list a dozen more reasons to all of you if you wish.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, sensing the still-present uncertainty of many-a-phoenix. ¡°But your very prince¡ªMordain himself¡ªleft Epheotus in an act of ¡®treason.¡¯ Every single one of you followed him in defiance of the established tyrant. Is it so great a stretch to believe that a Scythe would wish for the people of Alacrya to escape the yoke of another?¡±


    The comparison rippled through the crowd like a physical force. The phoenixes looked at each other, quiet muttering and conversation beginning once more.


    Aliara looked from Aurora, then back to me. She slowly sat down. She¡¯d found an answer in my question. And not long after, Soleil found his seat as well.


    So far, so good, I thought. ¡°Seris works for the lives of the lessers in Alacrya, but it is no simple thing for a human to cast off the noose of a basilisk.¡±


    Soleil rose once more, his eyes piercing. ¡°You wish to draw the Hearth into this conflict,¡± he accused, restraining his biting tone. ¡°This will only lead to death and despair. It was seen with Kezess Indrath¡¯s assault on Taegrin Caelum. Twice now he failed. And twice now, needless asuran blood was shed.¡±


    This time, the entire Forumground was silent. The muttering died down as if a sudden gust had extinguished the candle flame of interest. The intensity of all present redoubled as the truth of this meeting came to the fore.


    ¡°Chul called for the same,¡± Soleil grunted, looking down at me in a challenging way. ¡°He demanded that we rain fire down on Taegrin Caelum and burn as many as possible for daring to hurt your mother. But we of the Hearth know the folly of such things. We¡¯ve kept ourselves here to avoid the deaths of countless lives. Asuran intervention will only make the world weep.¡±


    Soleil was blunt. He reminded me of Trelza in that way. And as he spoke, it became easier and easier to see those he swayed and those he didn¡¯t.


    And what he asked? It was a valid question. And in a way, that was exactly what I was calling for my family to do: to risk their life and limb for a thin chance at victory.


    ¡°In a way, I am asking you all to join a war,¡± I allowed, staring up at Soleil as I raised my arms, gesturing emphatically at every word. ¡°But not a blunt, bloody battlefield that you might think. I¡¯m not here to demand you all give up your lives for a hopeless endeavor. I haven¡¯t yet met my brother, but I am not as brash as he, and neither am I as brash as Kezess Indrath.¡±


    From the side, Mordain closed his eyes.


    ¡°The phoenixes of the Hearth can do more than throw their weight against Agrona¡¯s Wraith squads. With your knowledge of magic, you can make Hearths for those seeking refuge from the Vritra. You can create advanced spellwork to help the ¡®lessers¡¯ resist. You can heal and teach the men and women of Alacrya the arts of asuran battle. There is more to war and battle than bloodshed!¡±


    ¡°But it would still demand we intervene,¡± a familiar voice said. Roa. ¡°Demand we leave our Hearth and put our faith in words and promises that we cannot verify! And Toren, we¡­ we saw your Bloodtie. The woman, Greahd¡­ What is to stop all those we love from becoming like her? We¡­¡±


    I looked up at the short-haired woman, sensing her intent as it radiated down and past me. Many shied away from her in rising horror as tears built along the rims of her eyes.


    One was never supposed to speak of a Bloodtie after the day it was shared. But in an act of passion¡ªor folly¡ªit seemed that Roa had broken an old tradition.


    I scanned my eyes across the reluctant phoenixes. My words had an effect, certainly. But as I sensed the growing emotion in every single one of them, I felt something in the back of my mind align.


    Aurora had spoken to me once about how she didn¡¯t fear that my family would reject me. She didn¡¯t worry about me truly being a contender for power against Mordain, or causing political troubles of that sort.


    But she did say that the phoenixes would feel fear from my arrival.


    Seris had said to me once that all lessers were motivated by fear. But that wasn¡¯t true, was it? Asura were held in the grip of it just as much as men. Because the phoenixes of the Hearth feared the change I demanded, they feared to step outside the safety of their home. Even those who were drawn to my words, like Lithen, Sundren, and a dozen younger members of my clan. The kiss of sunlight scared them, now. Because as much as it could warm, it could burn, too.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t safe in your Hearth, Roa,¡± I said quietly. ¡°That is what Greahd¡¯s Fate told me. That no matter where I run to, so long as Agrona holds power, he would always take my warmth. Just as he took Aurora¡¯s warmth from you. Just as he will take the warmth of countless asuran lives from this world if he is allowed to continue. Regardless of Seris¡¯ rebellion, Agrona Vritra will climb up a mountain of corpses to reach the heights of Mount Geolus.


    ¡°The Dicathians will lose this war with Alacrya. And once that is done, Agrona will use this continent as a staging ground to strike at Epheotus. Maybe the Hearth can remain safe for another century. Maybe another two or three. But as the millennia march on, you will not escape his notice forever.¡±


    My eyes swept over the Asclepius Clan. Most refused to meet my eyes. ¡°The power all of you wield eclipses mine by magnitudes, and already I have brought change to this world. I have no doubt in my heart that you can do wonders for the people of all continents.¡±


    I lowered my head, Aurora¡¯s thoughts warm and solemn against mine. ¡°My first plea is done,¡± I said, looking toward Mordain. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you all to think about my words.¡±


    ¡ª


    Not long after, I found myself atop a training platform in the lowest reaches of the Hearth. In my hands was a shrouded saber, glistening like crystal as my heartfire flooded through it.


    I moved through a dozen and a half martial forms, mana thrumming across my limbs. I felt the strain on my heart as I summoned a shrouded spirit about myself, the myriad veins of lifeforce coursing back to the thundering engine in my chest. I could understand now how it enhanced my strength and speed with my enhanced sense of mana as a white core mage.


    The constant flow of force through the strata of my telekinetic shroud subtly pulled my strikes forward through the world, adding multiplicative force with every attack. Every blow held the force of a train behind it.


    I moved faster than lightning as I swiped my blade upward, mimed a parry, then shifted into a forward lunge. At my side, Aurora¡¯s shade mirrored my actions. Our forms flowed in near-perfect sync as she performed the hand-to-hand equivalents of my saber forms. Though we did not mesh as we did in Soulplume, our minds and hearts beat as one as we worked through the arts of our clan.


    I remembered the lessons I¡¯d taught myself throughout my hellish trip through the Beast Glades. Every day was filled with constant and nigh-unending battles as I was given no time to rest or recuperate.


    It seemed that every forest I entered became a battleground. A place for training and shed blood. And over this past month and a half or so, I¡¯d grown exponentially once more as I put together the pieces Seris had given me.


    I swiped sideways, imbuing my saber with a flare of lifeforce. The saber flashed with a brilliant sheen of dawnlight. Siphon their heartfire and cut their strings, I thought, reorienting my feet. Deny them recovery. Move with every pulse of your heart.


    I jumped, flipping sideways as I used my telekinetic pulls and aerial abilities to rev up a momentous upward slash. Red plasma hummed across my saber as I forced sound mana along the coursing energy of fire. The world spun around me as I expertly reoriented back to my feet, bending my legs as I planted my stance. Take what hits you can and rip what it takes to heal from their Vessels.


    And even without the Unseen World layering my vision, my sense of the soul had increased manyfold. By spending so much time in the Sea of my Soul, I¡¯d gained an almost instinctive sense of the edges of my mind and spirit. And now, if I focused, I could see Aurora¡¯s shade without her direct help.


    With the barest twist, I engaged my regalia. A dozen spheres of force appeared around me, before immediately being subsumed with burning red fire faster than I could even blink. Then they belched fire toward me, little glimmering motes of force helping propel them onward. The ambient mana itself amped the mindfire strike higher.


    I whirled, conjuring shields of solid force all around me. And just like with the fire, sound magic quickly imbued my panels of compressed kinetics. The two clashed in a wash of absurd heat, the buzzing vibrations and pushing force dissipating the oncoming flames.


    I exhaled a breath, feeling my core twinge slightly. My telekinetic regalia was so much more than it was before. I could cast with it almost faster than I was consciously aware of, the flow of force following my intent. And if I used this absurd casting speed and versatility, I could enhance my other spells, too.


    My fire and sound magic still required me to¡ªin some way¡ªsubconsciously designate a location for the spell. Augment its shape, formation, everything. But that took time. Even if it was in the thousandths of a second, the time it took to form a spell could be the difference between life and death.


    But my regalia wasn¡¯t so limited. While manipulating the ambient fire and wind mana for flames and sound was like another limb to me now, my telekinesis was more like an extension of my thoughts rather than another body part. I¡¯d continued to use my template spells since my induction into this world, but only now did my internalized view of ¡°object-oriented casting¡± find an even better way to get the ¡°variables¡± for input.


    I used this to increase my casting speed, versatility, and power. I didn¡¯t need to dedicate that tiny bit of my mind to forming a fire or sound spell if my regalia could direct and guide it beforehand, generating my ¡°variables¡± and slotting them where they needed to be. If my regalia could feed me every bit of miscellaneous information, I became truly powerful.


    All of this was being pulled into a single, cohesive fighting style. Resonant Flow, Sonar Pulse, my shrouded spirit, my sense for intent and lifeforce, my telekinetic abilities¡­ It was starting to take shape.


    I moved in tune with my heartbeat. Every thump heralded an action in the delicate dance of fire. Every pulse opened up a momentous continuation of the last in my style.


    I slowly let my shrouded spirit dissipate, withdrawing those veins of orange-purple energy that supported it back into my heart. I couldn''t hold that technique for long, either. My heartbeat thumped with slight pain in my chest.


    If I had more lifeforce and a stronger heart, I wondered how I might be able to expand my shrouded spirit technique. But right now, I struggled to maintain the minimal shroud.


    I understand what you feared, now, I thought as my movements slowed down. I could sense it there, at the very end.


    Aurora lowered her hands, exhaling as she wound down. Her whipping hair slowly stopped in its constant flow as she measured her emotions.


    ¡°Change is a terrifying thing for we asura,¡± she said, keeping her attention forward and her emotions somewhat distant. ¡°The Asclepius have embraced change more than any other clan. With my brother¡¯s progressive ideals and manners, they have shifted more in one generation than most do in dozens.¡±


    She looked at me from the side of her eyes. ¡°But change is exhausting, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°For the first time in thousands of years, we phoenixes finally had a chance to¡­ rest. To acclimate to something, when we reached our Hearth. And now we seek to pull our family into something grander than anything before. Something that has a small chance of success.¡±


    We won¡¯t fail in this, I repeated, resolve burning over my blood. Change is never easy, but it is necessary. When we stop changing, we die inside.


    My bond¡¯s response was mute silence as we finished our martial forms.


    But my manyfold senses¡ªSonar Pulse, my understanding of intent, my ears for heartfire, and the inherent understanding of the physical plane brought by being a white core mage¡ªalerted me to a few spectators.


    I turned my head, looking up toward where Roa, Lithen, and half a dozen other phoenixes looked down from a nearby balcony. I locked eyes with Roa, sensing the guilt that radiated through her emotions. At her side, Lithen averted his eyes slightly.


    I smiled softly, waving them down. ¡°You¡¯re all free to join me,¡± I echoed. ¡°Don¡¯t just perch up there!¡±


    That was enough, finally. The phoenixes drifted down, all varying shades of awkward, unsure, or guilty. Roa especially.


    She didn¡¯t look at me. ¡°I, uh¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°For saying¡­ what I did in the Forum. It was wrong. I just¨C¡±


    I patted her on the shoulder in the way Norgan always did whenever he tried to comfort me, quieting the nervous phoenix. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Roa,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m not all caught up on Asclepius traditions, but I know your intent wasn¡¯t to hurt me.¡±


    She bit her lip, nervously looking away. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make what I did right,¡±


    ¡°The loss of the woman, Greahd, is what spurred my son to action,¡± Aurora said, distancing herself from me slightly. I could feel that she was lost deep in thought. ¡°It is a sorrowful tale, but an important one to tell.¡±


    I got the vague sense from my bond that she needed some time to herself. I gave her an understanding nod, before looking at the phoenixes around me.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to work through my forms again,¡± I said somberly. ¡°You can make it up to me by joining me in my practice. Deal?¡±


    The phoenixes exchanged a bunch of uncertain looks. ¡°We have not used these training grounds in a long time, young blood,¡± Sundren said. ¡°We will not make adequate grindstones for your blade.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter right now,¡± I hedged, gesturing with my arms. ¡°We¡¯re family. Maybe sometimes I seek to hone my edge. But maybe I just want an excuse to get to know those around me.¡±


    I raised a brow, a defiant smirk rising on my face as the members of my newfound family appeared entirely baffled by my words.


    A few of the others stepped forward, drawn in by my words. Roa¡¯s face softened slightly. ¡°You know, your brother always talked about this kind of thing before he set out for the human lands. He insisted that we should join him on the training grounds. But he was not¡­ kind.¡±


    ¡°He thought us cowards,¡± Sundren cut in. ¡°But he never did understand what battle meant. But you¡­ you do. There is death in your eyes, young blood.¡±


    Unbidden, my thoughts returned to the Battle for Burim. The casual death I had wrought on every soldier who had crossed my path made my palms sweat and guilt churn in my gut. Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn¡¯s empty, accusing eyes still lingered in the night.


    I was quiet for a moment, the knowing expressions of the phoenixes around me telling me they knew exactly what I thought of.


    ¡°It¡¯s despite this¡­ understanding of battle that I called for this Forum,¡± I said, turning away. ¡°No, it''s because of it. Because if I don¡¯t oppose Agrona, then that is the inevitable fate of all those I love. Just¡­ endless war.¡±


    J¡¯ntarion had told me I was taking the first steps towards understanding and peace before he died. But the djinn were people of utter pacifism. Their vision crumbled before the tyranny of asura, which meant I needed to meet the asura on a level they could understand.


    That was what I¡¯d done with the nobles of Fiachra, after all. Though my music compelled them, their truest language was that of brute force. And when I spoke with both of those, I pushed them toward the former.


    I looked up at the milling phoenixes, sensing their discomfort. ¡°I understand your reluctance. I do. It took¡­ Greahd for me to resolve myself to really intervene. And I wouldn¡¯t wish such an experience upon anyone.¡±


    Before Agrona had sent his message within his very church, I would have been content to simply wipe away Nico. Then I could let Arthur get his aether core. Let him ascend and fight the gods, as he was Fated to do. But at that moment, I realized I had a sort of power. Why else would Agrona try and put me down, as Wade had implied?


    And as I¡¯d told Mordain, power begot duty.


    Roa looked down, blinking a few times. Covertly, Lithen took her hand, interlocking their fingers in a gesture of silent support. I understood these asura. I knew their hesitance.


    ¡°We know,¡± Lithen eventually said, a smile on his broad face. ¡°I did notice that your martial forms were slightly different than what we know of, though.¡±


    My smile returned at the olive branch. ¡°Well, the style I¡¯m developing is derivative of the martial arts of the Asclepius, but it¡¯s not exactly the same,¡± I started, shifting into stance as my family watched.


    And as I started to explain the changes I¡¯d applied to Hidden Talon and the other forms, I felt my good mood return. Because as long as people were willing to listen, there was a chance at understanding. A chance at community.

 Chapter 265.5: Christmas Special 2024

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    The sound of celebrations and rising glee flowed around us, the mana itself alight with life and light. Yuletide preparations rumbled through the great cavern of Burim, one of the oldest Dicathian festivals giving a bit of new life to the beleaguered dwarves. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I found it truly strange, the idea of Yuletide. It was an old Dicathian tradition. During the coldest months of the year, no matter the race, the people would gather together, giving gifts to those they cared for.


    We Alacryans had no such holidays. Even in Sehz-Clar, where I had worked to foster communal support and responsibility over the decades, the idea sat strangely. To give without expectation of receiving? To give for the sake of giving?


    Toren had laughed when he¡¯d heard of the upcoming festival, his eyes alight as they usually did whenever he found something he thought particularly amusing. After some prodding, he¡¯d revealed that his previous life had had a concept much the same: a season for giving gifts and fellowship.


    It is still quite illogical, I mused, staring down at the blueprint I¡¯d delivered to the burly smith in front of me. If one truly cared for their fellows, one would gift things truly needed. That would be true selflessness.


    My eyes flicked to a young dwarven child as they scampered past, toddling on little feet. They spared me no mind, instead racing after their parents as they shouted their desire for certain toys.


    The greatest gift should be simple currency, I thought with a hint of irritation. Such would give the most freedom to the receiver. To be able to purchase whatever they wish is a greater good than a restrictive item.


    I¡¯d said as such to Toren, and he¡¯d been puzzled for a time. For all his virtues, he did not know his way around logic as I did. And I¡¯d made a solid point: for a season supposedly about selflessness, it seemed quite selfish to me. Granted, I had only ever granted gifts out of pragmatism, hoping for the best outcome. Toren¡¯s saber and dagger, Caera¡¯s blade, and a dozen others¡­ I could not fathom granting a gift for selfless reasons.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, miss,¡± the boulderish dwarven merchant muttered, stroking his beard. The lavaducts cast him in a low haze as he stared at the design I¡¯d laid out in front of him. His beard was bound by cords, and there were no few gaps where sparks had tunneled their way through his graying hair. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can do this.¡±


    The man¡¯s words cleared my head of earlier contemplations. Thrumir was one of the foremost fire mages in Burim, a master artificer of the dwarves. So talented was he in his craft that he could match some of Alacrya¡¯s Instillers. Without spellforms, runes, or formal training in the extensive sciences of my home continent, this singular smith still excelled.


    I frowned down at the blueprint I¡¯d presented to the smith. ¡°Is it a matter of funds?¡± I queried, clasping my hands in front of me. ¡°That should be no problem. I am not limited monetarily, and I have always been generous in my commissions.¡±


    Thrumir shook his head. ¡°Apologies, Lady Shorn,¡± he said carefully, ¡°but this isn¡¯t like the fire puzzle I created before, or the craft of interlocking blocks after. These designs are more complicated than those, true, but it¡¯s more than that.¡±


    I let out a sigh, brushing a lock of raven hair behind my ear. I¡¯d donned my age-old mask of Renea Shorn for this outing, and I already felt somewhat foolish for trying this at all. Despite this, I still felt a measure of disappointment. ¡°Explain it to me, then,¡± I said, knowing that I sounded more disappointed than I wished to let on.


    The dwarf laid a meaty finger on the design, tracing the small gates with an inquisitive look. He traced the rigid pathways and strata of the design. ¡°I can recognize some of these. Makes me think of the passageways for the lavaducts¡­ When some of them are close to overflowing, channels will trip and divert the flow across the city.¡±


    ¡°Logic gates, yes,¡± I replied, tracing the paths with my eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve worked with such concepts before, have you not? The fire puzzle you crafted for me was based on such circuitry.¡±


    Thrumir nodded. ¡°Aye, that is true. But I work with fire mana. It¡¯s explosive. Wants to move, wants to burn. It¡¯s been my greatest pride to harness that to my will, utilizing that surge for my creations. But this device here would fail quickly. The channels are too close together, and the fire mana wouldn¡¯t keep contained to such filaments. If you scaled it up, maybe¡­ or used pure mana instead. But that is beyond my expertise. And with so many of these gates, in all of these different configurations¡­¡±


    My shoulders slumped slightly against my will as I stared at the blueprints, my suspicions slowly confirmed. I didn¡¯t have the tools I needed to make something like this myself: those were all stored safely in my Aedelgard Estate. It had been a loose hope, but still¡­


    I slowly began to roll the blueprint for the ¡®computer¡¯ up again, wondering at my next move. ¡°Thank you for your time, Lord Thrumir,¡± I said with a sigh, rolling up the blueprint for the makeshift ¡®computer.¡¯ ¡°I shall find a workaround, I suppose.¡±


    I turned, realigning and reconsidering my plans. I had crafted a gift for Retainer Cylrit, of course. A way to show my appreciation for his service and stalwart loyalty. So too had I attempted to make something for my pupil far back in Alacrya. Something to show that I¡­ what? Cared?


    ¡°Lady Shorn,¡± Thrumir called out behind me. The burly man was wringing his hands, his eyes cast downward slightly. ¡°Forgive my presumptions, but is this puzzle another gift?¡±


    I paused, then turned to look quizzically at the smith. ¡°Another, Lord Thrumir?¡± I asked, displaying curiosity and mild amusement. ¡°I do not believe I¡¯ve ever told you what I do with my commissions, and yet you are quick to make assumptions.¡±


    I raised my brow, aware of my irregular defensiveness. I didn¡¯t want this man to know I was giving gifts. Strange.


    The dwarf wrung his meaty hands, working his jaw with discomfort. ¡°Aye, that¡¯s true. And I¡¯m sorry for intruding. But, well¡­ Spellsong comes by every now and then. Helps a little bit, then leaves again. He does that for a lot of the dwarven forges. And one time he was here, I saw him with the puzzle I had made.¡±


    The dwarf shuffled, growing more and more and more uncomfortable as I kept him pinned with an icy stare. ¡°If I may suggest something¡­ Lady Scythe¡­.?¡± he muttered, ¡°I might have something that can help remedy this failure of mine.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. He¡¯d put it together. That was irritating.


    Toren had explained some about his previous life and his former passions. The idea of computers were not foreign to me: after all, many such devices were made with mana that mimicked thought and action. But those were not quite the same as what my Spellsong had explained.


    I slowly strolled back to the blacksmith, a vision in shadow. ¡°If you cannot craft something to these specifications, I do not believe I will be satisfied,¡± I said. ¡°Nonetheless, humor me.¡±


    Thrumir nodded sharply, regaining his wits. He bent beneath his counter, and I could hear him shuffling around and cursing slightly. When he resurfaced, there were half a dozen gears, springs, and bits of metal clutched in his hands. He set all the various components onto his desk.


    Silence stretched between us. I stared at the miscellaneous items, a brow raised, then looked back at the sweating dwarf. ¡°And this is significant to me because¡­?¡±


    The dwarf coughed into a fist. ¡°I am deeply sorry that I could not fulfill your specifications, Lady Scy¡ª¡± I glared at the man. ¡°Lady Shorn. But if you wish to give a gift, might I suggest making something yourself?¡±


    I blinked, looking down at the various components. In my mind¡¯s eye, I could imagine the dozens of ways they could mesh together. My basilisk¡¯s blood churned slightly, the scientifc part of me drawn forward.


    ¡°And, pray tell, what purpose would that serve?¡± I asked, leaning forward slightly. ¡°Anything made by you would most certainly be of higher quality than what I might put together.¡±


    The dwarven blacksmith scratched at his beard, his eyes a little uncertain. ¡°I make all my gifts for my children, Lady Shorn,¡± he said slowly, treading forward as if the only thing beneath his feet was thin lake ice. ¡°They¡¯re not all my best work, true. But I put my heart into it. That¡¯s what matters most.¡±


    My brow wrinkled. Toren travels to the Hearth to bring me an army, the greatest gift I have ever received. I felt strangely small as I stared at the clump of clogs and springs, like I was a confused little girl again in the depths of Taegrin Caelum. Should I not have something just as grand waiting for him?


    ¡°It seems¡­ lacking,¡± I muttered quietly. ¡°Anything I can make will be quite small.¡±


    The dwarf grunted. ¡°Pardon, my Lady, but gifts aren¡¯t just about what the other person receives,¡± he said, strangely gentle. ¡°A small toy can hold so much more of our care for those we love than the grandest of structures.¡±


    I tapped my finger against the counter, considering. ¡°That is quite selfish,¡± I said. ¡°As if the gift is for ourselves as well as the recipient. To convince ourselves that we care.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think its so simple,¡± Thrumir said, bolder now. ¡°We need to remind ourselves of why we love those close to us sometimes, no? Yuletide helps us. We find our gifts and we think of our families, and we remember what draws us together.¡±


    That is a little selfish, I mused, coming to a decision. But not so bad as I thought.


    I felt my lip quirk up into a slight smile, feeling just a bit vindicated. ¡°I suppose so,¡± I allowed, sweeping the scraps and springs into my dimension ring. In its place, I left a heavy sack of coins. ¡°Thank you, Lord Thrumir.¡±


    I strolled away from the dwarf, feeling satisfied. Yuletide was very strange, but perhaps I could grow to appreciate such a custom. Already, I was planning ahead. What I¡¯d make for Toren, how I needed to moderate the celebrations¡­


    I would need to revise my gifts to Caera and Cylrit, too. With this new understanding, I found my earlier presentations lacking.


    Maybe I can institute something like this in Sehz-Clar in the years to come, I thought, feeling warmth in my chest despite the chill. A little selfish selflessness could go a long way.


    Toren Asclepius


    ¡°I think this is a terrible idea,¡± I said for the dozenth time, knowing that it was hopeless. ¡°You really should spare yourselves the trouble!¡±


    Roa patted me on the shoulder unhelpfully. ¡°Nonsense, Toren!¡± she chirped happily, tossing me a few more fruits to dice. ¡°This is a group effort! No excuses! You¡¯ll help whether you like it or not!¡±


    All around me, a couple hundred phoenixes darted about, chattering and chirping amiably as they zipped about the Sunset Gardens. Asura shapeshifted into small hummingbirds, tracing streamers across trees in their little birdie forms, while others worked at a haphazard pace to set up more and more cookpots. Half a dozen fires lingered in the air, the asura dancing about them merrily.


    All in all, the Yuletide celebrations were going well so far. A celebration of community, life, and love glimmered about me, carried on currents of birdsong. I¡¯d spent the past couple of days putting together nice gifts for those I cared for.


    Naereni would get a feather cloak that would hide her from all prying eyes. Wade was going to get an Asclepius beastiary detailing different ways to care for mana beasts. I¡¯d give Sevren a clipping of Sister Nature herself so he could run wild with it. I¡¯d gotten Cylrit a history book on old asuran warriors and folklorish tales as they kept to chivalric ideals. And for Seris¡­well, her gift wasn¡¯t done yet.


    Things were rolling toward a beautiful crescendo as the night wound down, the clock ticking to midnight. And now we would eat together, as family should. A wonderful gathering of Hearth and home swirled about me as the great firebirds prepared to celebrate.


    Why is it that such celebrations exist on this world, too? I wondered absently. Is it just more multiverse mambo-jumbo? Existential bullcrap that can¡¯t really be answered?


    I didn¡¯t really think so. There was something deeply human about this, gathering close during the coldest times of the year. Something that called to the heart itself in a way that couldn¡¯t be explained by multiverse theory or aetheric hypotheses.


    And I really didn¡¯t want to ruin it.


    ¡°Roa, I really don¡¯t think you comprehend how bad of a chef I am,¡± I said weakly, my shoulders hunched nervously in front of the bubbling stewpot. If it could even be called a stewpot. A liquid like molten gold flowed in the cauldron, glimmering like captured sunlight. The scent of freshly baked apples, cinnamon, and warm maple wafted up from it, wrapping me like a gentle blanket. The nectar of the gods themselves slowly simmered, inviting me to take a sip.


    ¡°Mordain told me you were nearly as poor a chef as he!¡± Roa said with a smile that only made her features shine. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here. I¡¯m going to teach you how to make a real dish!¡±


    I stared into the glowing pot of god¡¯s ambrosia. It simmered lightly beneath a magical flame, and the more I gazed at it, the more I could sense the sheer level of magic imbued within. It was already near completion, and I wondered what it would taste like. Apple pie turned to pure liquid? Or maybe an autumn day condensed with all the spices and warmth of a fire? Or perhaps it¡¯d taste like cider¡­


    Regardless, if I laid a single finger on it, it would lose anything that made it taste good.


    ¡°Roa, this seems like a really bad idea,¡± I tried one last time, ¡°This can only end in chaos!¡±


    Diella, one of the older phoenixes of this generation, floated forward imperiously. Her hair was ashen, indicating she was close to her second sculpting. ¡°We¡¯ll help you, Toren,¡± she said imperiously. ¡±Everyone else has gathered the ingredients. You¡¯ll do fine.¡±


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    I looked over to Aurora, pleading silently over our bond. My mother met my eyes from where she lounged with Mordain, Soleil, and a few others, then looked at my family about me.


    Please, Aurora, I thought desperately, afraid to ruin the moment. I felt a pit of quiet shame at my reluctance. You know I¡¯m not a good cook. I really¡­ really don¡¯t want to ruin this. Could you get me out of it?


    All around me, the swirling emotions of my family embraced and enveloped me like a cloak, warding away the chill. The hovering lights of the Sunset Glades told me I was home, that I had a place to stand. That, even in another world, I had a place that I could belong.


    And everyone was so good at what they¡¯d set out to do. Lithen arranged the trees, weaving nests with a smile on his face as he bantered with Aubuen. Soleil¡¯s fiery beard flowed around his face as he directed the chaotic hubbub, the flock knowing his commands. And Mordain drifted like an errant feather through it all, smiling warmly and laying a hand on every shoulder, giving a comforting smile and warm affirmation.


    I don¡¯t want to mess this up, I thought, feeling slightly ashamed at how childish I must have sounded.


    My mother¡¯s smile became a bit more somber. ¡°I¡¯ll be right over, Toren,¡± she conveyed warmly, sensing my distress. She whispered something to the phoenixes around her, before beginning to drift over, our bond alight with reassurance.


    Almost immediately, though, I felt a spark of shame. Really, Toren? Calling your mom over to bail you out of a difficult situation?


    I squared my shoulders, reassuring myself with my steady hearbeat. Wait, I told my mother, finding my form one more. Wait. I can do this!


    I had faced countless battles! This was no different! I could face down countless foes without fear. This stew was no different!


    Aurora¡¯s smile widened as she sensed me settle in. You¡¯ll succeed, my son, she conveyed gently. You only need try.


    I shook my head, banishing my earlier reservations, before looking back up at Diella and Roa. Aurora was right. I made a show of rolling up my sleeves and taking a deep breath, the golden liquid within the cauldron in front of me seeming to mirror that calming motion. ¡°You¡¯re all right. I can do this!¡± I declared, staring down at the ambrosia as if it were an SS-class mana beast barring my path. I had crossed the boundaries of worlds, faced amalgamations of utter fear in the Relictombs, and triumphed over the Vicar of Plague himself. ¡°I can learn to cook!¡±


    Diella chuckled, a beautiful sound like music. She sidled closer to me, staring deep into the golden stewpot. ¡°I am the best cook in the Asclepius Clan,¡± she declared confidently, turning her chin up. ¡°You won¡¯t fail in this, I promise. The expertise of thousands of years of culinary masters will guide your steps!¡±


    I nodded, feeling myself confidence return as I watched the swirl of gold.


    ¡ª


    Diella stared in awe at what had become of the stew, her jaw slack and her intent rife with confusion and disbelief. ¡°You only dropped a single fruit in,¡± she muttered, uncomprehending. ¡°What¡­ how?¡±


    My shoulders slumped mournfully as I stared at the cauldron. What had once been a whirlpool of life had turned¡ªsomehow¡ªto a maelstrom of dark shadow. The smells, which had once been inviting and lovely, had become sharp and bitter, the sweet turned sickly.


    ¡°This doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± she whispered, poking at the stew with a ladle. I could have sworn it poked the ladle back. What the fuck?


    ¡°This is scientifically impossible!¡±


    I glared angrily at the stew. The stew might have glared back, a Frankenstein¡¯s monster in the making. ¡°One day,¡± I muttered angrily. ¡°One day, the stew won¡¯t win.¡±


    Roa nervously poked at the stew, then shrieked when a tendril of darkness snapped out from the pot. A blaze of phoenix fire ignited on her hands, before it funneled with a powerful fwoosh into the cauldron.


    Diella and I both stumbled back, covering our faces with our arms. I could hear the thing scream.


    When it was done, there was nothing left in the pot except for ashes, and Roa¡¯s eyes were feverish and wide as she stared at the charred remnants.


    Half the Sunset Glades were staring at us, curiosity and confusion radiating from a hundred living deities.


    Roa chuckled nervously, waving at them while she hid the pot behind her back. ¡°Nothing! Don¡¯t worry about it!¡± she declared with a smile that was a little too brittle.


    I licked my lips, before raising my hand. I still felt that fire in my gut: it was personal now. ¡°I think we should try again,¡± I said slowly. ¡°Maybe if we only try putting in half a fruit¡­¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Roa squeaked, grabbing the pot and moving it away from me. ¡°You aren¡¯t allowed to touch he pot ever again!¡±


    Diella, thankfully, was on my side. ¡°Come on, Roa!¡± she said, her eyes shining slightly. ¡°Imagine all we could learn if he puts random things in the pot!¡±


    My eyes narrowed as I focused on the pot, calculations running in my head. Roa wasn¡¯t looking at me, her intent entirely focused on Diella.


    ¡°That¡¯s not how science works!¡± Roa said back, keeping the pot even further away. ¡°It¡¯s gotta be reproducible, right? I don¡¯t think anyone can be trusted with this.¡±


    A hand settled on my shoulders, taking me from my silent schemes. I blinked, turning to see my bond hovering behind me, a soft smile on her face. Mordain fluttered next to us a moment later, fondly watching Roa and Diella argue the ethos of letting me near the cookpots again.


    ¡°I am proud of you for giving it your best effort, my son,¡± Aurora said helpfully, ruffling my hair. ¡°Perhaps you might not excel at everything, but it is no matter.¡±


    Mordain hummed, staring at the pot inquisitively. ¡°Your mother is right, Toren. Sometimes certain things are beyond us. That is no fault, simply fact.¡±


    I grumbled, turning and looking down at the ground far below. ¡°If I used a quarter of a fruit instead of a half, then¡­¡±


    Roa and Diella oriented sharply on us, noticing Mordain¡¯s presence. ¡°Mordain!¡± Diella cried, zipping forward. ¡°Please, tell Roa that it would be a great idea to keep trying to let Toren make stew! The advancements we could make in magic would be amazing!¡±


    ¡°No, I was wrong!¡± Roa interjected, speaking over her clanmember. ¡°We can¡¯t let anyone else suffer the consequences of our mistakes!¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± I retorted, puffing out my chest. How could someone shift from supporting me so wholeheartedly to trying to prevent me from trying again?


    Mordain coughed lightly into one of his fists, drawing attention back to him. ¡°Unfortunately, Diella, I will have to side with Roa on this matter,¡± he said candidly. He gave me a little wink. ¡°If Toren wishes to improve his cooking skills, I would advise a secure bunker and plenty more precautions than what can be brought to bear here. Perhaps the ¡®Relictombs,¡¯ as our Friends in Life used to call them. But I think I have a better suggestion for us all.¡±


    Mordain leaned forward, his eyes taking me in in my fullest. ¡°We have everything necessary for a wonderful night. Good food, good company¡­ but not good music.¡±


    My eyes slowly widened, and I spared my mother a glance. Damn, Mordain was right. Though the preparations for dinner were nearing completion and all the setup was nearly ready, the only sound was the constant chatter of excited phoenixes.


    Roa¡¯s frantic worry about my eldritch cooking capabilities slowly misted away as she blinked, looking between me and Mordain. ¡°Music?¡± she echoed, blinking. ¡°Toren, you¡¯re a musician?¡±


    I looked out at my gathered family, our intents laced with so much life and happiness and joy. Though the winter chill bit through the night sky, deep in this pleace of peace, one could stop with a mug of cider and laugh about the olden times, when things weren¡¯t so complicated. You could hold those you loved, and they¡¯d hold you back. The sense of it wrapped around me, hundreds of heartbeats a symphony on their own.


    Am I a musician? I asked myself, sensing how my heartbeat found its home among all the others. Aren¡¯t we all, when we have someone we love?


    I blinked, and I realized that my vision was blurring. I let out a shuddering breath, pulling myself back to the moment. ¡°Y-yeah,¡± I muttered. My mother¡¯s shoulder massaged mine, her emotions a warm balm across my mind. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m a violinist. Pretty good, if I say so myself. Anyways,¡± I said, pushing forward, ¡°there¡¯s a song I¡¯d like to play, Roa. And I¡¯d love if you¡ªand Lithen, Diella, and everyone else¡ªcould join me.¡±


    I looked back at my mother, my eyes hopeful. ¡°And if you¡¯re able to¡­ I¡¯d like you to join me, too.¡±


    ¡ª


    It¡¯s the coldest months, I decided, setting my violin against my jaw. They take our warmth, leaving us shivering.


    My mother stood beside me, looking down at me fondly, finding solace in our emotional tether. Finding foundations.


    That¡¯s the same on every world, isn¡¯t it? The harsh bite of winter, taking away your solace. Making your fingers turn blue as the blood freezes in your veins, ripping away the illusion of eternal safety¡­


    Roa stood by my side, a lyre strung with fiery threads of magic that I couldn¡¯t identify glimmering in the low light. Diella lounged in the air, a stringed instrument I didn¡¯t recognize in her hands.


    ¡°We¡¯ll follow your lead, young blood,¡± Diella said quietly, much calmer than before. ¡°I look forward to it.¡±


    Above us, our family was finishing their preparations for the celebration. Some had noticed us and begun to drift down, interested. And still others noticed, yet continued on in their cooking, tasting, and laughter.


    But I didn¡¯t need their attention yet. I was just a part of the whole, not a sole concert like in Alacrya. Not a monument of magical prowess or an otherworldly enigma.


    Just¡­ me. Just Toren.


    ¡°It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve sung,¡± my mother whispered quietly. ¡°I wonder if I¡¯ve forgotten.¡±


    I¡¯d heard my mother¡¯s angelic voice only once. A long, long time ago, deep in the expanse of the Relictombs. When I¡¯d stared into the endless abyss of aether, she¡¯d sat with me, singing a lullaby she¡¯d first learned from her own mother.


    I hadn¡¯t heard her voice since.


    I let go of my violin handle for a moment, clasping Aurora¡¯s hand softly with mine in reassurance. ¡°You know how, Mom,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard anyone sing as beautifully as you.¡±


    Aurora stared up at her family as they flew through the skies, her eyes narrowed. I thought she was struggling against tears. ¡°Maybe I do remember,¡± she whispered. ¡°Maybe, if I try, I can recall¡­¡±


    Mordain, with his hands tucked characteristically into his belt, spared the few of us a smile. I¡¯d always considered him a being of utmost age, an ancient marble statue fighting against the wear of time. Today, though, as his eyes lingered on his sister, I caught the first hint of happiness I¡¯d ever witnessed from him.


    You¡¯re home, Aura, those eyes said. You¡¯re with me, with us. Our family is whole again. We¡¯re whole again.


    As he stepped forward, a collective breath of wind seemed to flow through the entirety of the Sunswept Glades. It tickled at my ear, laughing at the absurdity of things like responsibility and care. It banished every bit of cold I could ever feel, brushing my fears aside as if they were only paper mache.


    ¡°Friends and fellows!¡± Mordain called, raising his arms. His loose robes flowed like molten honey, drinking in the light. ¡°Lend me an ear!¡±


    The fluttering and flapping of wings slowed as the attention of the entire clan gradually shifted to their leader. Mordain¡¯s gaze drifted about the glades, meeting the eyes of each and every phoenix. I could see how he inspired their loyalty, their respect with each heartbeat.


    ¡°Not long ago, we welcomed a long-lost member of our family home,¡± the Lost Prince said, gesturing back to my mother¡¯s shade. ¡°We gathered here, embracing and remembering days long-gone. And now, as we reach the coldest times of the year, we gather together once again to remember what it is to be together.


    ¡°We have set up food, community, light, and color. But it has been so long since we¡¯ve let ourselves sing. And I believe it it high time for music.¡±


    Mordain glided to the side, giving me a warm smile. We had our differences, and my animosity ran truly deep. But right here, right now? When I swam in a sea of pulses, blessed with this rhythm in my chest?


    I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°When I first came to this world,¡± I called up to the flitting firebirds, feeling their growing love for me, ¡°it was in a place of utmost sorrow. The strong ruled the weak, and there was no solace for those on the ground.¡±


    My fingers clenched around my violin as I remembered the first woman to inspire me in this world. The one who helped me learn to love music and love my neighbor. Greahd, the mother of Fiachra.


    ¡°The first time I found that I belonged¡­ was among the cookfires of those people, deep in the heart of winter. Because even with their sorrow, even with their pain, they held a wisdom that eludes even some of the greatest gods. A wisdom that is lost on Epheotus, so-called land of deities.¡±


    It was so terribly ironic. The lowest of the low, squeezed of every ounce of hope and joy, knew something of living more than their Sovereigns. More than Kezess Indrath could ever grasp. As men went from cookfire to cookfire, giving thanks for Greahds little kindnesses, they understood something of each other that transcended worlds.


    I let my words hang, the intents of my family drifting down like a hundred warm feathers. Smiles were exchanged, hands squeezed. Arms wrapped around shoulders, and the many firelights bathing the Glades in light began to dim lower and lower.


    Not like a dying fire, no. But a Hearth that everyone needed to gather round, or a classic tale whispered by your old uncle that demanded your utmost attention. Every one of us somehow gravitated towards each other, unbound by the winter cold.


    ¡°I played them a song, long ago,¡± I called, settling my bow on my strings. ¡°A song from my old world, about love and friendship and days past. And I want you all to know it here, too.¡±


    I took a deep breath, pressing out with my intent¡­


    And then I began to play, familiar chords drawing themselves from the depths of my soul. And like a miracle fit for a story, my mother began to sing.


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And never brought to mind?


    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,


    And days of auld lang syne?


    Earlier, I¡¯d wondered why Yuletide existed in this world. Some sort of multiversal shenanigans? Or signs of another reincarnate somewhere? Her voice was so angelic. Like the breath of the universe itself, holding my soul in its hands and coaxing every beat. Around us, our family drifted closer, carrying their plates of food and their instruments and tapestries and everything else they¡¯d been setting up.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    Roa played her strings, Diella her own instrument. And more and more of the phoenixes reached for their voices and instruments, a wonderful tapestry joining the display. A somber, loving melody, professing something that transcended Fate itself. The lights fell lower, our hearts rowing us along.


    Drinks were shared, bowls of stew handed around. The scent of apples and cinnamon warmed me as I paused in my playing to take a drink from a beautiful mug, knowing I could afford to do so. Because those around me could carry me on when I needed to rest.


    We have traveled ¡®round the slopes,


    And picked the daisies fine.


    We¡¯ve wandered many weary foot,


    Since days of auld lang syne.


    For auld lang syne, my dear,


    For auld lang syne.


    We¡¯ll take a cup of kindness yet,


    For days of auld lang syne.


    As the music threaded through hundreds of hearts, drawing them into one, I found the truth. When we were coldest, the heat of our bodies seeping away in the chill¡­ That was when our Hearths mattered most. That was when the embrace of our loved ones meant the most, because no longer could we stay warm by ourselves.


    As the song ended amidst a chorus of laughter and good cheer, my mother trembled. She stared at her family, and I knew she could sense their joy. She trembled lightly, her voice exhausted. A single song took so much from her, leaving her exhausted. But as the joy she¡¯d allowed to kindle and burn echoed around her in shouts and echoed singing¡­


    She turned, wrapping me in an embrace as she struggled not break into tears again. Though her shade no longer bore a heart, I knew she¡¯d felt this with all her soul.


    I smiled, returning her hug, grateful that we had this time together.


    Christmas, Yuletide, Saturnalia, the Solstice¡­ They all meant the same thing, in a way. A way to share our warmth and remember that we had a Hearth. That, no matter what, we were never alone.

 Chapter 266: Temptation

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Aurora Asclepius


    I watched as my son gently began to draw the youngest of our family into a slow routine of flowing steps. He conversed with them, explaining much of his recent attempt at growth and improvement in his martial abilities.


    I smiled, watching as they gravitated about him as if he were a star and they a dozen planets. And gradually, more and more of my family floated down to the training platform, drawn in by the sudden fervor.


    We flock together so easily, I thought, feeling a kindling warmth in my heart as they became engrossed in their talks.


    ¡°My style focused a lot on parries and counters,¡± Toren said to a few listening phoenixes as he worked through the strikes and deflections. ¡°It¡¯s effective and really good. It meshes well with my maneuverability and abilities, but I¡¯m also not as limited as most are in taking damage.¡±


    Toren held out a hand, then conjured a small shrouded dagger. A few of those who hadn¡¯t seen this before muttered in surprise at the formation of a heartfire vein that the weapon used as support.


    After all, if they wish for anything similar, they must spend untold years slowly building it instead of the casual manipulation my son can do.


    Toren casually struck the dagger across the inside of his palm, drawing blood. Then, with just as casual an effort, he flared his lifeforce.


    The wound sealed over in a wash of dawnlight. Surprised squawks erupted across the increasing crowd as they leaned in to see what exactly he¡¯d done.


    Toren smirked as he gestured with his now-healed palm to the intrigued members of our clan. ¡°I can afford to take far more damage than most with my abilities. So while a style based around evasion is good, I have a larger margin for error. So a lot of my movements now¨Cwhile they still seek to avoid and deflect damage¨Cthey take into account this fact.¡±


    A few of our family raised their hands, asking questions and inquiring about Toren¡¯s abilities with heartfire. He responded best he could, trying to lay out his insight and what had granted him such power.


    My eyes drifted to Roa and Lithen as I slowly walked away, noting their clasped hands. It seems in the time since I have lived here, they have finally come together, I noted. Some things do change in my Hearth.


    I slowly lifted into the air, hovering away. I surveyed the myriad shades of red and darkening black hair of my family as I drifted about them like a ghost.


    Sensing my bittersweet melancholy, Toren stopped suddenly, looking toward my ghost with worried eyes.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± he thought. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    I am well, my bond, I replied back with honesty. I simply wish for some time to myself before my upcoming plea to the clan.


    Toren could sense that that was not all there was to my current emotions, but he did not press. He nodded slowly, darkening our bond slightly as he let me go.


    There was a time when our connection never darkened. When he was always listening for my heartbeat and steady praise. Where my advice was always quick and earnest in the wake of his needs. But those questions¡ªthat need¡ªhad fallen away somewhat.


    I settled down on a balcony high above, a tunnel opening behind me as I watched like an angel on high. At least forty of our clanmembers milled about, talking with Toren. Learning more of him as he learned of them.


    I turned around, pushing those thoughts from my mind for a time. I centered myself, remembering how I¡¯d always focused on my inner fire as I¡¯d been lashed in Taegrin Caelum¡¯s vaults. That fire¡­ it had shifted. It wasn¡¯t just within me, now, but with my son. Through him, I found the strength for what needed to be done.


    I strolled through the Hearth, the sounds of the training ground leaving me behind. As a ghost, I had no true sense of taste, smell, or touch. Sight and sound were all that were afforded to me. The wonderful music of my son¡¯s acceptance into our flock slowly drifted away on an Unseen breeze as I walked down familiar halls.


    The Hearth was originally a sanctuary, one for the long-gone djinn. My Andravhor had taken great pride in his art of crafting it. Even until the end, he found joy in the enchanting effects of the place. His room in particular¡ªthe observatory¡ªwas where I had finally realized my feelings for him.


    But the vines and autumn fire leaves that snaked along the walls? The Charwood and Sunswept Gardens? Those were our personal touches. Our attempts at making something truly like our past home. The Starbrand Sanctum was empty now, but we tried to bring a mote of it here.


    My gaze lingered on one of those silver vines. An affinity for nature magic was rare among the phoenixes. Even rarer that one of us mastered it in any sense of the word.


    Aurora¡ªnamed after me¡ªhad found a way. Barely past her first Sculpting, the young phoenix had discovered a way to use the barest remnants of an age-old Catastrophe¡ªone that the djinn had possessed¡ªto not only plant the seeds of the Elshire Forest, but also to weave obscuring layers about our home that enhanced those of our djinni brethren.


    She had earned the moniker all knew her by now. Aurora of the Vine, as I was of the Talon.


    It is our young who push what is truly possible, I thought. Roa. Lithen. Sundren. Chul. Toren. It is they who strive for more than what we have now.


    But the laughter of children no longer echoed through these halls. The only offspring of the Asclepius Clan that had been born in the past millennium had been of the union between djinn and phoenix. And among them all¡­ among them all, Chul was the only such star that bore our lifespan.


    I paused, the utter silence of the halls seeming to close in on me for a time. Without the laughter, it felt so empty in a way I had never realized before. Like a theater devoid of the music that made it what it was.


    But the deaths of the djinn¡ªand the children we few had in such unions, I thought, swallowing at the memories, it broke something in every one of us who experienced it. The phoenixes alone claim the mantle of eternal life. But we could not spare our husbands and wives and children who bore djinni blood.


    That was something else Toren had to fight against in these Forums. He had to push past our grief.


    I wandered for an indeterminate time, allowing myself to contemplate my long-desired reunion. It was something Toren had taught me as much as I taught him: letting myself acknowledge and feel each emotion. It was different than the meditation techniques of nearly every clan. Instead of finding serenity through the absence of feeling, one found it through the embrace of emotion.


    I paused in my reminiscing, however, as I heard something else reach my ears. The sound of brushes across the canvas, the clatter of utensils and tools and hurried footsteps. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Belatedly, I realized where I was. Though the passages were nigh endless in their twisting and wandering, I knew them by heart. Here was the Passage of Art, where many of my kin had their pastimes.


    I drifted to the side, noting an entrance to the grand chamber. And inside I was immediately greeted with an almost overwhelming sight.


    Dozens of pages drifted on calm eddies of wind in one corner, each yellowed page coasting about like a swallow in a cool breeze. They flapped slightly as they flowed from phoenix to phoenix. Those that caught them scanned them over slowly with burning eyes, scribbled a few notes onto the edges, and then let them back into the air to be caught on currents once more.


    In another corner, I recognized a few individuals as they sang a light melody. It was a sad, somber tune, one I had not heard in an age.


    The Lament of the Lost, I thought, stuttering to a stop as the mournful melody washed over my phantom ears. For those fallen in war and battle.


    I did not need to swallow as the music rushed around me, but I did anyway. I forced my eyes away from the singers and their haunting song, unable to focus on the memories it brought to the fore.


    There was a single phoenix in another corner. Aphora was painting something on a broad canvas with blue and yellow paint, making a deep weave with every stroke of his brush. That brush glistened with orange runes along the edges, flaring with every swipe. This far from my bond, I could not draw on his mana sense to peer at the inner workings of the artifact. Nonetheless, I knew he somehow imbued mana into each and every line of paint.


    I could not see what masterpiece he was creating. His hunched form sat in front of it, blocking it from my view.


    ¡°We still spend much of our time in the Passage of Art,¡± a familiar voice rumbled. ¡°Though it is not the same without the sound of your voice every morning.¡±


    My burning eyes drifted back to those who sang the Lament. ¡°Rarely have I sung since Andravhor left us,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I do not expect to do so again any time in the future.¡±


    Soleil stopped beside me, looking in at the many writers, singers, and painters of the Hearth. ¡°But you have sung?¡± he asked, quietly imploring.


    My mind drifted back in time, coasting along my journey with Toren in this world. I remembered when we¡¯d stared out into the infinite purple void of a Relictombs Zone, contemplating music and platforms and life.


    ¡°I sang the Oldest Lullaby,¡± I said wistfully, remembering the simpler days of trekking through my husband¡¯s Lifework. ¡°You know the one, Soleil. I think I needed it more than my son did, at least at that moment.¡±


    It was that moment when I¡¯d recognized what Toren had truly become to me. Contractor and bond, true¡­ But son. I had not recognized him truly as such until he¡¯d heard the old lullaby of the Asclepius breathed from my lips.


    Soleil spared me a single glance, his eyes sad. ¡°Mordain hummed it to you when you were young. I remember it fondly.¡±


    A ghost of a smile feathered across my lips at the old memories. My upbringing in the Starbrand Sanctum had been¡­ unkind. My mother had perished soon after my birth, taken in battle, and my father had fallen to Kezess Indrath¡¯s predecessor.


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    That left only Morn and I, one hatchling and a fledgling forced to fly far too soon. But as Mordain found his footing within our clan, becoming a politician and a force of fire itself, he¡¯d reserved a tender care for me, raising me in the absence of our parents.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard Mordain sing in a long time either,¡± I said consideringly. ¡°Not since we first came to this place. I did not understand why he kept himself quiet¡­ Not until now.¡±


    Soleil considered this for a while. As one of the oldest members of our clan, he had seen many things. I wondered what was going through his head as he considered what might best soothe my pains.


    ¡°When this Forum ends, you may have a chance again,¡± Soleil said. ¡°There is healing here, in this place of refuge. This you know.¡±


    I shook my head slowly. ¡°It is unwise to discount our upcoming plea so easily,¡± I said with a sigh. ¡°Toren and I will still push for our plea, despite the¡­ temptation.¡±


    Soleil sighed himself. ¡°Your son¡ªToren Asclepius¡ªhe has a draw with our younger generations. Those who know little of battle and bloodshed and loss. He still holds the fire of youth, not unlike his brother. But it is not enough to sway us all. I understand your hopes, Aurora. But¡­ it will not bear fruit.¡±


    ¡°You see the impact he has on our younger flock,¡± I replied softly. ¡°We both know that the tides can turn in our favor.¡±


    ¡°That matters not,¡± the older phoenix cut in harshly. ¡°When asura battle on lesser grounds, it can only lead to bloodshed and death for those we wish to protect. I know this, Aurora. Which is why I can¡¯t understand.¡±


    Soleil was one of the originators of the concept of the Hearth. He was one of the elders who discovered the ruination of the People of Life alongside my brother, and it was through him and his ideals that we managed to save so many of my husband¡¯s people.


    A silence settled between us that made the Lament of the Lost ring painfully in the back of my mind. And at Soleil¡¯s words, I remembered the frantic flight from Epheotus. How many we lost when the Indraths put together our plans. The scorched fires of the Faircities and broken remnants of survivors we squirreled away.


    Soleil was right, in a way. I did not see a path forward without bloodshed. I looked down at my phantasmal hands, noting their purple-pinkish undertones. A gift from Andravhor.


    ¡°I¡­ know it will result in warfare,¡± I admitted, my voice small. For the first time in countless millennia, I felt like I was a young chick again. ¡°I do not want this, Soleil. I don¡¯t want to see them die again. Something of me withered when Andravhor left. So many of us withered when our family suffered. I do not¡­ I don¡¯t know if I can see my family break.¡±


    We¡¯d all died with those we loved, in some small way. And the ashes smothered us, burying us all beneath their shadows. How could we ever hope to claw ourselves up from such a death? How could we¡ªphoenixes of life and light¡ªcomprehend such a darkness?


    The older phoenix finally turned, his hard face scrunching up. Soleil was always a blunt man, one who rarely engaged in any sort of emotion. But as I stared at him, watching as he worked his jaw and struggled to put words to his thoughts, I realized he felt just as much as any other phoenix.


    ¡°Please, Aurora,¡± he said, forcing the words out as if they came from a hole too small. ¡°We wish for you to return. To be a part of our clan again in truth. We all do. But this insistence on intervention drives a wedge through our community. You know that you and Toren are welcome here. He can live his life here freely if that is what you truly fear. But this path you tread will lead only to despair. Because we are firestorms to them. They are lesser. In being, no, but in power. And they can only suffer beneath us, should we step into the light. But if you abandon this course, it can be as it once was.¡±


    I stared up into Soleil¡¯s eyes, quietly pleading. He knew on some level that I was¡­ different from when I had last been here. That some part of me had been burned away in Taegrin Caelum. It appeared he thought that our family could heal those wounds, too.


    And for an instant, I allowed myself to dream. I could see Chul returning to meet his brother. I could be a mother to them both in a way I¡¯d failed before. I could sing with those I loved beneath the happy lights of the Sunswept Gardens. It was a life of contentment that I had enjoyed before for countless years.


    We celebrated the Aurora Constellate every few years. We could not risk stepping out under the stars, but the festival we threw in our little slice of Epheotus was grand and wonderful. The food and drink never grew old. Toren would surely love our festivities. It was the sort of thing that drew him closer to the people around him.


    And the training grounds wouldn¡¯t be so empty. Chul would find a brother in not just blood, but in the blade as well. He wouldn¡¯t be alone in his training any longer, for Toren shared that same love for magic.


    And maybe¡­ maybe I could sing again. Andravhor said it made me seem even more beautiful, the way I could truly relax as I breathed out each note. He¡¯d told me that when I sang for him, I was more alive than any of the People of Life.


    But that wonderful dream cracked as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw what Aphora had been painting. He stood up, seeming to heave himself as he did so with an effort of will. And when he stepped aside, that vague impression of yellows and blues became one, beautiful whole.


    It was the sky. The vast, endless, expansive sky. The robin¡¯s egg-blue of reflected light was so immersive I could almost feel the air beneath my long-gone wings. The sun was woven in brilliant gold with rays that seemed to shine beyond the scope of the canvas. Just the sight of it made me feel warm, drawing on my innermost psyche.


    And beneath that was an endless sea, reflecting those waters like Toren¡¯s soul. And looking at that painting, drawn from the depths of Aphora¡¯s heart¡­


    I felt free again, for a bare moment. And then my dream fractured and broke into a million shards. Each falling fragment sent reverberating waves of renewed sorrow through my mind as I finally understood what I¡¯d wanted to avoid for so long.


    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, holding back fiery tears. ¡°It won¡¯t ever be the same, no matter the outcome of this Forum.¡±


    I stared at this man I¡¯d known all my life, finding a tragic resolve, even as I felt the slow, mourning realization. ¡°We¡¯ve let ourselves die,¡± I murmured. ¡°We, phoenixes. Masters of life and death. We¡¯ve clipped our wings and snuffed our fires. We¡¯ve forgotten what it is to live, sequestered for so long in this place. We don¡¯t feel pain¡­ but neither do we grow.¡±


    Soleil¡¯s expression darkened, somewhere between fury and sorrow both. ¡°Yet we do live! That is the difference, Aurora. That is what you do not understand. We live, and no others suffer for it! None suffer the kiss of our boot!¡±


    ¡°Where is the laughter of our children, Soleil?¡± I asked quietly, staring back into the Passageway of Art. The Lament of the Lost had ended, and those members of our flock within were staring at their flutes. But I knew they heard us. ¡°When did you last hear it?¡±


    Toren had given me that sound again. That sound I hadn¡¯t known had been missing, until the terrible contrast of these empty halls, silver vines reaching for something that no longer was there.


    Soleil was silent.


    ¡°What is life without pain?¡± I asked somberly, turning away from the Passageway of Art. Turning away from that great depiction of the sky. ¡°What is life without suffering? How can we ever know joy and light without the darkness that precedes it? We¡¯ve forgotten what it means to be phoenix, Soleil.¡±


    My old mentor and friend knew much, and was as wise as one of his age could attest. But he couldn¡¯t fathom rising from our defeats. He could not understand pushing past the heartbreaking sorrows of loss. When all had died, he¡¯d forgotten how to rise from the ashes himself.


    I knew what it meant to die. I knew the touch of deepest misery in the depths of Agrona¡¯s dungeons. Only in death could I love life all the more.


    Toren and I shall prove him wrong, I thought, seeing the heartbreak in the elder¡¯s eyes. We know what it is to rise again, like a sunrise over the world. No matter what comes our way, we can overcome it.


    ¡ª


    It was early morning when I took the stand at the Forumground. I stood over the engraving of Faircity Zhoroa as I stared out at my clan, the lights of the faux suns streaming down on me.


    But I did not feel warm. I¡¯d felt cold since yesterday, when I¡¯d recognized that the void in my heart was wider than I¡¯d ever expected.


    Beside me, Toren¡¯s hand brushed my arm supportingly. Not far away, my brother looked on with old, old eyes. Before I¡¯d left the Hearth, I did not truly understand how he could look so old despite his airs of eternal youth. We of the phoenix were unburdened by age. We alone among the asura could tout an eternal life.


    But now I knew how age burdened what should have been undyingly graceful. I knew how one whose body could not feel the ravages of time could still feel it passing.


    All of the Asclepius looked down at me, their eyes like four hundred fireflies as they glimmered against a night sky. While I did not have Toren¡¯s sense of emotions, I still knew the hearts of my flock.


    Today was different than yesterday. Toren¡¯s plea had been one of emotion, of pathos. But at its core, it was born of logic. And his words had sway, particularly with the younger of the Asclepius. Those who saw the most of themselves in Toren.


    My plea would be different from his.


    ¡°When I last left the Hearth,¡± I said into the grave-still silence, ¡°it was to fulfill a single mission. As the result of our last Forum, it was decreed that I would act as a representative of the Asclepius to investigate Agrona Vritra¡¯s rebellion. To see if it was worth joining.¡±


    My hands clenched at my sides. ¡°But I was betrayed.¡±


    My family shifted glowing eyes exchanging uncertain glances. They murmured as the silence hung, discussing among themselves quietly as they sensed what I was about to say.


    If I still bore a body of flesh and blood, I suspected I would be sweating. My breathing would be heightened as the effects of adrenaline made my movements choppy and my thoughts run blurrily.


    For all that we Asclepius tried to honor my husband¡¯s people with our Forum, we were different from them. The djinn had an almost impossible patience for silence as they allowed every person to have their say. But the silence was anathema to us. We needed to fill it with some sort of noise, be that the ruffling of wings or the chattering of beaks.


    I restrained a tremble. I needed to present myself as strong, even if I did not feel it. I needed to show my family why they needed to fight.


    ¡°Agrona Vritra shared Hearthrite with me,¡± I said loudly, ¡°and with poison and treachery, he saw me imprisoned in the depths of his dungeons.¡±


    A surprised chorus rumbled through the gathered phoenixes. A few stood up, opening their mouths to ask questions. But when they saw my eyes, their mouths closed. Silence slowly grew in the Forumground. Out of the corner of my eye, Mordain slowly turned away.


    And I finally wrenched the words from my throat. Slowly at first, each word burning and tearing as they left me. Then faster and faster.


    I told my family of the horrors I witnessed in the bowels of Agrona¡¯s bastion. The experiments and grim darkness that tainted the edges of my vision black. The mind-rending horrors that pulled at my very soul whenever I let myself drift for too long. The lengths and measures to which Agrona was willing to go.


    I was not interrupted. As I spoke of broken wings and even more broken minds, there were none who sought to interject and question me. The stage was mine as I spoke of the first-hand pain and sorrow that was my life for a millennium.


    Despite my desires, my voice became more and more hoarse. My breathing grew ragged and pained as I clawed the deepest secrets from the depths of my psyche, tearing them as if I were severing tumors in the recesses of my mind.


    ¡°But you know all this,¡± I wheezed out, clenching my fists. ¡°I espouse the horrors and pain I experienced deep in those depths, but what does this change? Nothing. We all understand the monster across the sea. That is not the struggle that binds your hearts from action.¡±


    I looked down, my eyes tracing the intricate carving of Faircity Zhoroa. I had never seen the city, and I never would. ¡°The beasts of the Indrath Clan razed the djinni Faircities to the ground,¡± I said quietly. ¡°A civilization that existed for five millennia¡ªthat preached ideals of peace and coexistence¡ªwas erased in the blink of an asuran eye. And we sheltered them the best we could. We tried to save what was left.¡±


    The tension in the room shifted, caving inward at my recollection of our old allies. Of our friends and adopted flock.


    I had not known grief before Andravhor. I had not known what it was like to watch one you loved¡­ waste away. In one moment, I was greater than any star in the sky, made more through the love we shared. And in the next, his bones were nearly ash. His breath was ragged dust as it told me to live for our son. To embrace life.


    But I had not. I¡¯d feared it so, so much. Feared it so deeply that I¡¯d left Chul¡ªmy little battling songbird¡ªalone in a cage.


    And that grief was shared by everyone in front of me. They knew that strange grief. A few of my family even stood abruptly, but not to speak against me. To leave.


    I knew those few. Those who had taken a djinn to love as their nest-mate. Who had born children of mixed lineage, only to watch it all crumble.


    ¡°We mourn them still,¡± I said quietly. ¡°But Agrona does not.¡±


    More phoenixes stood. These ones did not wish to leave, but to demand answers. Their eyes churned a deep orange, and though they spoke no words, I could feel their questions.


    ¡°He has their Lifework,¡± I said somberly. I set my hand on Toren¡¯s shoulder, using him for support. ¡°Like a parasite leeching off something once beautiful, he picks and prods and tears at their greatest creation. As a worm burrows into healthy flesh, he tears apart the last remnants of our brethren.¡±


    I swept my gaze across the gathered phoenixes, knowing that my words had sunk in. ¡°He seeks power over Fate. Yet instead of the beautifully woven song crafted by the People of Life, the Lord of the Vritra seeks to turn it into a dirge of damnation as they march over this world.


    ¡°I know you worry of bloodshed and destruction. We all fear the lives that could be lost should we intervene in this war in any way. But we failed to stop a genocide once. We failed to halt the atrocities that befell the djinn, and now their memories are being tainted by the deepest rot.¡±


    More phoenixes stood, staring down at me with clenched fists and growing resolve. Roa. Lithen. Aphora, and half a hundred more. Like an infectious wave, they rose in silent support.


    ¡°I leave you with only one last question, my clan. If we had the chance to turn back time to the days before the slaughter of the djinn, would we have sat by the sidelines as their Faircities burned?¡±

 Chapter 267: Gaze Not at the Past

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    Toren did not know the worth of the item he had used for a simple weapon. The young man thought it a simple focus for his mana and aether, but that was such a baseline application. Inversion was so much more.


    Atop my laboratory table, the horn¨Cwhich reflected orange and purple along its pristine white length¨Cglowed lightly in the relative darkness. Half a dozen measuring artifacts were hooked up to the item, tallying a dozen more metrics.


    Not far away on an opposite table, two mana beasts lay dead. One corrupted, one not.


    A test group and a control group.


    Each had been pierced by the Inversion, then the horn had been flushed with pure mana. Though the test subjects had died, the knowledge I¡¯d gained in the wake of their deaths had been worthwhile.


    I hummed contentedly as I focused on the readings from the recording artifacts. Progress was an intoxicating thing.


    The unique deviation of mana Inversion creates when filtered with mana dissipates quickly without active control, I thought, noting the exact measurements for mana concentration around the item after every few seconds. They were automatically recorded in a memory bank, but I didn¡¯t need to graph each number to see this pattern.


    When suffused with mana, Inversion ever-so-slightly altered it. The mana that left the horn was imbued with a subtle sort of deviant nature. One wouldn¡¯t be able to notice the difference¡ªat least until it met corrupted flesh.


    That mana deviation¡ªwhat I conservatively called anti-decay¡ªwas abnormally proficient at scouring away any taint of the basilisk. The mana seemed to hone in on anything touched by the Vritra, systematically annihilating it in an almost familiar manner. Like antibodies piecing apart a virus, it was an almost methodical deconstruction that I watched beneath a microscope.


    That comparison was near perfect for what was happening, too. I suspected that it was related in some way to how Toren¡¯s insight into his abilities stemmed from blood and biological processes.


    Aetheric insight is such a strange thing, I thought, picking up a nearby vial of blood that I¡¯d injected with a viral strain. It appears to almost follow a common logical path, but it is conceptual in a way that mana is not. While I can almost understand how Toren¡¯s insight works, simply the fact that I am not Toren bars me from it. The fact that I am trying to follow Toren¡¯s path innately bars me from understanding.


    I supposed that was why the High Sovereign and Lord of Epheotus both could not truly master aether. I suspected that every pathway of insight was unique to each on the road.


    I gingerly disconnected Inversion from the testing devices, unclipping and untying them all. I held the beautiful horn, my eyes tracing its intricate grooves up to the sharp point. Even if Toren was far from me now, the pulsing warmth in my hand told me that he would return soon.


    But beyond that, when close, the presence of Inversion served to silence the churning of my blood.


    I knew why I held such a darkness. Many with potent strains of basilisk blood spoke of the sensation, the strange animus it could have. Sovereign Orlaeth had once told me that it was one of the more difficult things to account for when merging lesser and basilisk blood.


    Most who experienced such drives from their Vritra ancestry went mad, unable to distinguish their true thoughts from those encouraged by the darkness in their veins.


    And I suppose I am among those maddened few, I thought, letting myself lounge in the light of sanity for a time. It was¡­ strange, my mind feeling so silent. Especially after an experiment.


    I had to always be hyper-aware of myself whenever I stepped into the laboratory. Always listening. Always watching for the barest twitch of my blood. Because that was what that creature in my veins latched onto. I had to set a dozen limits and lines for myself whenever I stepped into a lab to ensure I would not cross them.


    Don¡¯t experiment on others without their consent. If experimenting on another, ensure they are aware of what is being done. Inform them of the results. And many more absolute boundaries.


    I would need to find willing test subjects to verify Lady Dawn¡¯s method of breaking Agrona¡¯s runic control, I thought absently. But I do have options.


    I allowed myself to breathe. For decades, I¡¯d dedicated a part of my mind to suppressing that darkness, ensuring it would not resurface. But right now, it was almost like it hid in the face of Inversion.


    It is so ravenous whenever I am with Toren, I thought, clenching my gloved hand around Inversion. The more I open myself, the more it rises in turn. But for it to be so silent¡­


    This was the secret. This was how I destroyed it for good.


    I thought again of Toren¡¯s powers. Of how he could see my soul.


    I had shown my Spellsong much of myself, but that was where I drew the line. In the same way I would not allow myself to cross borders during experimentation, the soul was a place I would allow nobody to see.


    Those thoughts brought me back to reality. It was a nice sensation, being free of the song of my blood, but I couldn¡¯t let it last. With a sigh, I pulled Inversion into my dimension ring, feeling the immediate rise of my basilisk blood after.


    That inner fear kept me sharp. It kept me wary. That constant, paranoid attention I dedicated to myself was what made me so proficient in my crafting and planning. Like balancing on a tightrope over a chasm, it forced my movements and politics toward a razor-sharp point. I couldn¡¯t let it stay suppressed, lest I lose my edge. Watching for shadows in my mind allowed me to recognize them outside of it, too.


    When I destroy it¡­ What shall I do to keep myself wary? I wondered. Though you will find something, Seris, you must be aware of that reality.


    I slowly pulled the gloves from my hands as I left the makeshift laboratory. The underground caverns of the Divot were dark and shadowed, even with the many sconces that burned with light. They felt more empty than usual as I strode toward a specific place.


    The war is changing again, I thought with a slight frown as the few dwarves I passed bowed respectfully. I would have expected it to end soon, but King Arthur has shown himself to be a master of the political game.


    I finally arrived at my destination: a meeting room for the dwarves. Within, Elder Rahdeas and Elder Jotilda worked together to push their goals for the Darvish rebellion forward.


    With the assistance of Alacryan forces, the dwarven rebellion had conquered most of Darv. There were a scarce few pockets of resistance left remaining, but the entire desert was functionally under Alacryan control.


    The conversation within the meeting room died away as my aura slowly washed over the two dwarves, surrounding and suffusing them for a moment. I didn¡¯t speak all as I waited outside the meeting room, just let my silent message course through their veins.


    Rahdeas finally answered my silent command. The aged dwarf pushed open the door, looking up at me with a blank expression. He smiled at my appearance as if I were a long-lost friend.


    ¡°Ahh, Scythe Seris,¡± he said, making a gesture of welcome. ¡°We¡¯ve been waitin¡¯ for ya. I think you¡¯ll appreciate the plans we¡¯ve got down.¡±


    I said nothing as I strode into the room, my eyes sweeping over the entire space as I quested out with my mana senses. All I saw was Jotilda¡¯s ramrod-straight back as she sweated beneath my casual intent.


    A circular table carved of glimmering crystal stood at the center of the tall meeting room. The table glimmered green as it reflected the firelight, and half a dozen chairs made of the same material stood waiting.


    ¡°The last time we spoke, you were uncertain about your abilities to fulfill your task,¡± I said evenly, striding toward a nearby chair. ¡°Tell me, are you still so doubtful of your abilities?¡±


    A week past, I¡¯d ordered Elder Jotilda to start arming our Alacryan troops with provisions, weapons, and supplies on my behalf. She had started doing so, of course.


    Jotilda swallowed nervously as Rahdeas casually strode back beside her. ¡°No, your ladyship,¡± she said haltingly. ¡°It is going just fine. All your troops are gettin¡¯ what they need.¡±


    I tilted my head slightly, pinning the rigid elder with my gaze. Her sweating increased as I pressured her with my intent, ever-so-slightly.


    She was lying to me, I knew. Our troops were getting supplies and provisions, but the meticulous numbers I kept did not add up. Somehow, a small portion of each shipment of weapons, artifacts, and war supplies I ordered Jotilda¡¯s dwarves to carry simply¡­ disappeared.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a lot easier recently,¡± Rahdeas said simply, unphased by the power I pressed into the air. ¡°Seein¡¯ how we¡¯ve finally¡­ finally captured Darv for ourselves. We don¡¯t have to watch our backs all the time as we transport things. Not like before.¡±


    I let my intent diminish from Jotilda, turning my attention to the maddened Rahdeas. ¡°That is well,¡± I said, giving no indication that I knew Elder Shintstone had lied to me. ¡°I suspect we will have an influx of new troops and supplies soon as Viessa fails on her eastern front. Your tunnel networks and knowledge of the continent will be invaluable in seeing them delivered to where they need to be.¡±


    I could have found a dwarven leader who would follow my actions to the letter. There were certainly many who would deliver my supplies and rations without skimming from the top.


    But Elder Jotilda was one who saw through the Alacryan guise of civility and liberation. The weapons and armor she hid away who-knew-where would serve to bolster and supply the dwarves when this war with Dicathen finally ended and Agrona revealed his true colors. And with every press of my intent, she learned a bit more about how to mask her true thoughts.


    It was a good trial run for what would be her life for the foreseeable future.


    I have made headway. Planted seeds through Toren in linking Alacrya and Darv, I thought. But when this war ends¡ªor even before that, now that I¡¯ve practically conquered this country¡ªI will be forced to enact policies closer to the High Sovereign¡¯s edicts.


    ¡°I like that about you, Seris,¡± Rahdeas said casually, his eyes far away as he interrupted my thoughts. ¡°Strange thing, it is. The Council and the other humans and elves¡­ They didn¡¯t take us seriously, ya see. Even at the highest parts of the Triunion, they thought us small. But you value us. It¡¯s nice to have an ally in rebellion.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the elder, noting his empty smile. He was well and truly mad, but it was a sort of controlled madness. I knew Mordain Asclepius whispered secrets in his ear as well, and that only made me more uncertain.


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    How much does the Lost Prince see? I wondered, looking at the dwarf¡¯s distant expression. How much has he told this broken dwarf?


    ¡°You are casual with your words, Elder Rahdeas,¡± I said, tilting my head as I adopted a severe expression. Rahdeas¡¯ flippant attitude served to stoke annoyance in my core. ¡°I work with you, true, but you are too loose with your words. Rein them in lest you lose your tongue.¡±


    Rahdeas chuckled, while Jotilda¡¯s face went white as bone. She was quick to speak. ¡°Lady Scythe, I assure you¨C¡±


    ¡°No, no,¡± the old elder said, his single good eye closing as he waved dismissively at Jotilda. ¡°But it would be good to speak about things alone. If you would, Lady Shintstone.¡±


    The dwarf¡ªcoated entirely in plate armor¡ªlooked uncertainly between me and Rahdeas. She opened her mouth, about to protest.


    Then she saw something in her counterpart¡¯s expression. Something about how peaceful he appeared, I thought, before bowing stiffly. She shot Rahdeas one last uncertain glance, before marching from the room.


    The door rumbled shut like the closing of a coffin lid, leaving Rahdeas and me alone in the room. I stared at him for a time, tilting my head as I adopted the mask of Scythe even more deeply.


    I was accustomed to many reactions upon being left alone in a room with someone. Most of the time, I was greeted with fear and terror. When my aura pressed into someone, I became accustomed to groveling and submission. On some rare occasions, they would try and put up a diplomatic front. They¡¯d try to bargain and weasel their way to some sort of deal through empty flattery and scheming eyes.


    But as I stared across at the dwarven elder, I found myself experiencing something new for the first time in a century. Because Rahdeas simply sighed in contentment, appearing more relieved to be alone with me than he had with Elder Shintstone present.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard sometimes, talkin¡¯ to them all,¡± he said languidly, his muscled body settling into his crystal seat. ¡°We see things from so far above, ya know. It¡¯s weird, tonin¡¯ down my perspective. Filtering out the truth.¡±


    I tilted my head, staring down at my hand, roving my eyes over their pristine manicure as a man examines an interesting painting. ¡°Rarely have I met one as mad as I,¡± I said appraisingly. ¡°You seem to think you see things no others do, but that only proves your folly. You speak as if you have nothing to lose.¡±


    I inspected my dark-painted nails, noting how the firelight reflected off of them. ¡°But Olfred Warend is still assisting my Retainer in Vildorial in holding the city against assaults from the Lances and Triunion. Beyond that, the entire station of your rebellion rests in the hands of the High Sovereign.¡±


    I flicked a bit of dirt out from underneath my nails. I let the silence air like a dread secret brought to light, savoring the tension that rose between the dwarf and me like fine wine.


    ¡°I would say that you still have plenty at risk, should you step over the ledge.¡±


    For the first time, it seemed like I¡¯d gained Elder Rahdeas¡¯ full attention. He looked at me, his single eye searching my face instead of roaming past me. ¡°Aye,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Aye, I suppose you have a point, Scythe.¡±


    Silence reigned between us. Elder Rahdeas had the airs of a man who had lost everything. In many a way, he acted as if he already had.


    ¡°I wonder,¡± the man said musingly, ¡°what my son will think of me when he is old and gray as I am, when I¡¯m long gone and naught but another bit of soil in Mother Earth¡¯s embrace.¡±


    I looked up at the dwarf, sensing a change in his tone. He stared straight up at the ceiling, his hands rumbling a steady rhythm across the crystal table.


    ¡°Always thought maself an idealist. A man of my people. But ya know¡­ When all is said and done, I wonder how I¡¯ll be remembered by¡¯em all.¡±


    I sighed, letting my eyelids close. I¡¯d asked myself that question a few times, but it did not plague me like it seemed to haunt this dwarf. ¡°It matters not what others think of you when all is said and done, so long as you¡¯ve said your peace and made your choices. Fact is fact, Elder Rahdeas. It is objective, regardless of the subjectivity of perception.¡±


    Rahdeas shifted, trying to get more comfortable in his seat. ¡°I suppose.¡±


    A long silence stretched as the dwarf¡¯s eyes wandered. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you here, I s¡¯ppose,¡± he said in a low mutter. ¡°Ya¡¯ve got an important call comin¡¯ in. Should tell you, though. Toren¡¯s met that family of his. Lad¡¯s makin¡¯ headway in his attempts to sway them, too.¡±


    I nodded slowly, retrieving my communication artifact from my dimension ring. I was no seer, but I knew that Mordain Asclepius was. According to Toren, the Lost Prince dabbled in aevum arts that let him see the future in some manner.


    I wonder what it would be like to match minds with a seer, I wondered absently, tracing the speakers and many buttons on my artifact. Such sight cannot be perfect, else the High Sovereign would have never managed his empire.


    I had countermeasures for nearly everything I could think of, and my countermeasures around Burim had increased in the wake of Lord Aldir¡¯s inherent threat to Toren. But it would seem that I¡¯d need to concoct some for the future.


    I stared down at my artifact as Rahdeas slowly pushed himself to his stocky feet. The dwarf gave me a stiff bow that wasn¡¯t quite respectful, before hobbling toward the exit.


    ¡°Elder Rahdeas,¡± I said, still waiting for whatever fated call was about to come.


    The dwarf paused, but didn¡¯t turn back.


    ¡°Doubt your future, but do not doubt your past,¡± I said from the depths of my soul. ¡°There are some insanities that cannot be mastered.¡±


    The dwarf finally stepped out of the room just as my artifact began to ring.


    Cylrit.


    I let out a world-weary sigh, before answering the call. ¡°Hello, my Retainer,¡± I said. ¡°I was expecting your call.¡±


    There was silence on the other end for a short moment. ¡°Your sight is great to perceive such,¡± he finally decided to say. He was always one to default to flattery. ¡°I presume you know for what reason I call?¡±


    I chortled lightly, taking a measure of strength from Cylrit¡¯s familiar tone. He said it in an almost dry and emotionless tone that would lead most to think him insincere, but I had long since learned he believed them from the depths of his soul. I feared the day I let down his expectations. ¡°My sight is not as great as you suspect, Cylrit,¡± I replied. ¡°Speak as if I know nothing of what you call about.¡±


    ¡°Of course, my master,¡± my Retainer¡¯s loyal baritone echoed back. I let my head rest against the back of my seat, letting that familiar sound ground me once more. Made it easier for me to rise above that serpent in my veins. ¡°I bring news. A messenger from the Triunion Commander arrived today, bearing terms of parlay.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, crossing one leg over another as my Retainer¡¯s words washed over me. ¡°And what might those terms be?¡±


    ¡°They were vague,¡± Cylrit said honestly. ¡°The one sent was a captain known as Vanesy Glory. It was implied that the Council wished for something more from Spellsong.¡±


    I tapped a few fingers against the arms of my chair. ¡°Did they wish to push for his exclusion any further?¡±


    ¡°That was not the understanding I gained from the meeting,¡± Cylrit replied. ¡°Captain Glory alluded often to the captive Retainer Mawar during our brief parlay. Enough that it was abnormal for the subject matter.¡±


    That implied on some level that Retainer Mawar was on the table for negotiations. The last time I had negotiated with the Council, it was in an exchange of hostages for Spellsong¡¯s withdrawal from the war. It was likely that King Leywin wished to use this established precedent once more.


    Retainer Mawar was a valuable prisoner the Dicathians held, but releasing her to me instead of Viessa¡­


    It could simply be because we had spoken before, but my gut told me otherwise. From the covert spy warfare Arthur Leywin and I had engaged in this past month and the subtle tactics we both utilized, I had a measure of his character. This was a calculated move.


    He wishes to drive a further wedge between Viessa Vritra and me, I realized quickly. But how would Toren play into this?


    The pieces aligned quickly. ¡°Ahhh,¡± I said aloud, a smile stretching across my face as I held my chin with one hand. ¡°Another solid play on this gameboard, King Leywin.¡±


    ¡°Your sight is indeed all-encompassing,¡± Cylrit said in that usual flattering manner of his, ¡°but I do not understand what play this is.¡±


    ¡°Arthur Leywin wishes to sow further division between Viessa and I,¡± I said simply. ¡°And what better way than to release the Retainer she lost to me instead, while having my subordinate heal the sole major casualty she accomplished in her assault on Zestier? My sources in Elenoir tell me that the former Commander Virion Eralith is still comatose from corruption.¡±


    Cylrit was silent for a moment. ¡°That is a brash move,¡± he said slowly.


    ¡°It is bold,¡± I acknowledged. ¡°But it is no great secret that Viessa and I are on questionable terms. With the ways we operate in war and the rumors I have seeded across the continent, that much is clear.¡±


    But this wasn¡¯t all. There was more to this than just trying to push Viessa and me into further division. My spies also brought reports regarding the new weapon that King Leywin had been developing and tested recently.


    It was during war that technology truly developed. This was a fact of life and society, something the Sovereigns in Alacrya exploited to the greatest degree. Our histories were filled with instances of new technology being introduced that disrupted the space of warfare.


    The communication artifact in my hands was one such innovation. So too were tempus warps, beastwards, and most of all the manatech all across my home.


    And in Arthur Leywin, I saw a man stalling for time. Time for his new technology to spread and bolster his troops for another wave. He¡¯d already pressured Viessa¡¯s troops and position in the Beast Glades nearly to the breaking point. His attention was surely going to focus on Sapin¡¯s southern front soon, and he wanted to be prepared.


    ¡°What should my official response be?¡± Cylrit asked. ¡°The representative is still here, waiting for your response.¡±


    ¡°Allow me to think for a moment,¡± I said, standing. My dark dress flowed around me as I sighed in contentment.


    I walked to one of the paintings adorning the room. It depicted an old scene, I suspected. A fire salt miner swinging his pickaxe as he struck at the orange vein of ore.


    It was likely that King Arthur wished to stall for time¡ªbut that was something the both of us were able to do.


    I could sense it in my veins. Even if this war would last longer with King Arthur¡¯s actions, there was only so much he could do.


    Scythes Nico and Cadell would intervene soon, likely within the next few months. And the moment they did, this political game would be over. That was why I¡¯d started to make covert movements to bolster the dwarven rebellion in the underground.


    Two could stall for time. But this parlay also opened up another absolute opportunity. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Toren had told me more of Agrona¡¯s ultimate goal: the reincarnation of a being known as the Legacy, a weapon to threaten the reign of Kezess Indrath, using Tessia Eralith as a Vessel.


    Who has recently become a Lance, I thought with a twitch of my lips. A happy circumstance. If the worst outcome were to occur, it would be simple for Toren to snap her tether and stop her heart.


    Something King Arthur absolutely knew. I suspected Tessia Eralith was made a Lance for this very reason, so that the man could deprive Agrona of his Vessel at a moment¡¯s notice.


    ¡°Tell your guest that we are more than willing to enter a term of parlay regarding Spellsong and Retainer Mawar,¡± I said, my eyes tracing the pickaxe in the painted dwarf¡¯s burly hands. ¡°And also let them know that their cup is at risk of being taken by those who wish to fill it with something other than water. For greater trades, we might offer our assistance in ensuring it is kept secure. But don¡¯t pressure them on it too greatly.¡±


    Cylrit caught my meaning swiftly enough, the code in my words simple. ¡°Should I let them out through the public or private exit when they leave?¡±


    I pretended to consider. It was another simple way we masked our words. ¡°Private,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°It¡¯s a delicate matter. And for their going-away gift¡­ try Earth.¡±


    Cylrit would write down the latter portion of my response in a heavily encoded letter using the word Earth as a cipher. We couldn¡¯t afford to utter our intentions so plainly, even if I was sure our line was secure.


    I locked my arms behind my back. I wouldn¡¯t let King Arthur take advantage of this implied pause in hostilities along our southern front. I¡¯d have to order our steamships to harry Sapin¡¯s coast more aggressively. Perhaps I would finally answer Viessa¡¯s desperate pleas for assistance and resources too. Make it more difficult to finally shift fronts.


    I would not allow more massacres of innocent Dicathians, but diversionary tactics throughout the Beast Glades could keep King Arthur¡¯s attention split between three different fronts instead of a singular one. I could probably push a feint through Zestier as well. My spies in Elenoir had very little leeway, but there was a chance.


    Additionally, King Arthur had ruffled many, many, many feathers among noble houses through his ascension. A few houses in particular managed small power blocks to resist and stall his authoritarian efforts. If I played my pieces right, King Arthur wouldn¡¯t get the chance to fully utilize the time he was trying to play for.


    ¡°Understood, master,¡± Cylrit said sharply. ¡°I will see it done.¡±


    Now was the time I¡¯d usually tell my Retainer that he was dismissed and hang up the line. But for some reason I could not discern, I was feeling especially contemplative today. My eyes drifted to another painting: one of many dwarves laughing around a hearth with mugs of ale. A tavern of joy and happiness.


    ¡°I have never known you to be one to drink, Cylrit,¡± I said quietly. I hesitated slightly, feeling as if I trod on unspoken grounds. ¡°Might I know what pushed you to such lengths after your¡­ spar with Toren?¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a time. My hands clenched together behind my back as I ground my teeth slightly.


    I should retract my question, I thought suddenly. I shouldn¡¯t have asked such.


    Toren had instilled in me a strange desire. A desire to know those around me. But I had¡­ pushed. I opened my mouth.


    ¡°Cylrit, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Your sight is all-encompassing,¡± my Retainer repeated quietly, in a tone so hushed I almost did not hear it. ¡°I have no doubts within my mind that you understand what brought us to that tavern.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling off-kilter. I felt the sudden urge to simply¡­ hang up the call. Pretend that this conversation had never happened.


    But that would be lying to myself. That was what Agrona Vritra convinced us all to do. Lie to ourselves so deeply so that he never had to sink his fangs in himself.


    ¡°I care for you, Cylrit,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°You know this.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    I resisted the urge to scoff at myself, my mana churning in my chest at each successive blunder.


    How does Toren do such things with ease?


    I could not¡­ logic my way through this. ¡°I cannot offer¡­ more,¡± I finally pressed out. ¡°But you are still invaluable to me. Without you by my side, I do not know what I am.¡±


    Cylrit was silent for a time. I slammed my eyes shut. ¡°I am not proficient in emotions, Cylrit,¡± I said. ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°You are more open with yourself,¡± he affirmed suddenly. ¡°That is a good thing. You will learn, Seris. And¡­ thank you. For your words.¡±


    He said nothing more. Without my express approval, he hung up the line, leaving me to listen to the ending dial tone as I shuddered with inner anger at myself. Anger for bringing up the topic at all. Anger for the emotions I let myself feel now. The questions I asked as I let the lies I told myself fall away.

 Chapter 268: Bloodtie

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Asclepius


    I¡¯d spent only a week and a half in the Hearth, but it felt like a lifetime. Between the constant talks with my clanmermbers, the stories I gradually got to hear, and the time I¡¯d spent every day with them, I felt as if I¡¯d known each phoenix for years instead of a few days.


    ¡°Well, this is it,¡± Diella said matter-of-factly as she led our little group forward. ¡°Our kitchens.¡±


    I struggled not to gape as I stared at the scene before me, because it wasn¡¯t really a kitchen. It was like a living, shifting garden. A dozen different plants floated around the space on islands kept aloft by whirlwinds. The scents of each of them drifted back to me in an almost dizzying array of aromas. Cinnamon and vanilla I recognized amidst the smells, but most were so alien and rich with strange and untold flavors that I couldn¡¯t even begin to decipher them.


    The ambient mana itself seemed to carry the scents of those hundred different ingredients in a truly fantastical way. My eyes darted about, focusing on one plant. Alathora. Its clover-shaped leaves were ever-so-slightly purple, and each of them seemed to move individually of the others.


    My attention shifted to the side again. Norsican wildflower. That one did look like a bright white flower, except it was constantly furling in on itself over and over and over in an almost mindbending manner. I felt that if I stared too long at it, I¡¯d be drawn in like a fly into a spider¡¯s web.


    ¡°Careful there,¡± Lithen said, patting my shoulder as he walked past me. ¡°Norsican wildflowers grow in large patches on Epheotus. Their innate mental magics ensnare their prey. A single one isn¡¯t really enough to warrant the fear of an asura, though.¡±


    I blinked, abruptly pulling my attention from the flower. With my growing sense for the soul¡ªwhich cascaded in an almost trickle-down effect toward my Mind¡ªI could belatedly sense the effect the flower had in siphoning my attention like water down a drain.


    ¡°This is more than a kitchen,¡± I said slowly, struggling not to sound like a teenager in over my head. ¡°It¡¯s an entire garden in and of itself.¡±


    Indeed, there was even a stream that ran through the large chamber weaving through the entire room in a gentle, meandering manner. Every now and then, the islands would dip down toward the water like animals roaming for water, allowing the roots to drink of their sustenance, before rising back into the sky.


    ¡°Kitchen is the best word we could use,¡± Diella said simply, putting her hands on her hips as she strode forward confidently. Her hair was dark as dying coals as her lifeforce simmered away, indicating she was close to her Second Sculpting. ¡°But we of the Hearth don¡¯t really have normal kitchens anymore.¡±


    She waved an intentionally impassionate hand toward the jungle of plants around us. ¡°All our ingredients are grown fresh here in the Hearth, saturated in the ambient mana as they await the table. We only pluck them when needed, ensuring maximum quality.¡±


    To punctuate her point, the phoenix reached out, casually plucking a glistening fruit that looked somewhat like a plum from a nearby branch. She bit into it, trying her best to appear unaffected by the taste.


    Diella liked to present herself as nonchalant and unbothered, but I knew she was just as passionate as the rest of our clan through the rumble of her low-burning heartfire and the pulse of her intent. It was a strange quirk of hers I¡¯d observed over these past days.


    Roa strolled in next, a wide smile on her face. ¡°It was one of my ideas,¡± she said proudly, puffing out her chest as she strolled toward the stream. ¡°We can¡¯t hunt like we used to, of course. But we can grow and nurture any food we need!¡±


    She sat down heavily on the ground, the ethereal grass bending easily beneath her. Roa patted the space next to her invitingly. ¡°Come on, sit down, Toren!¡±


    I strolled closer, setting myself down next to the phoenix. A second later, Lithen plopped down heavily next to Roa. Roa leaned against his arm slightly as the bulky phoenix leaned backward, settling there like a bird on the nest.


    I still wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the two were. Lovers, I was pretty sure about. Husband and wife? I didn¡¯t exactly know if there was an equivalent of that in Asclepius culture beyond ¡°nest-mate.¡± Apparently, Lithen himself had been adopted in from another clan: those of the Avignis, long ago. Before the sundering.


    I felt a smile stretch across my face at the relaxed atmosphere. There was a warm little fire in my chest that simmered with each interaction with these phoenixes.


    I haven¡¯t felt so at peace in a long time, I thought. It has been such a long time since I¡¯ve allowed myself anything like this. Not since¡­


    Not since Greahd¡¯s death, I realized. That was the last time I¡¯d truly felt this warmth of community with so much of my soul.


    Diella slowly lounged a ways away, then waved her hand nonchalantly. Without an ounce of detectable mana, vines slowly grew from the stone, weaving together like the embrace of friends as they gradually corded into the vague shape of a table.


    ¡°Now that that¡¯s done,¡± she said simply, ¡°we are going to cook.¡±


    And then my sense of warmth slipped slightly. I raised my hand, grimacing a bit. ¡°I, uh¡­ can¡¯t cook. At all,¡± I said lamely. ¡°The last time I tried, I somehow made a phoenix wyrm flavorless. I don¡¯t want to ruin whatever you¡¯ll be making.¡±


    Roa chuckled, while Diella shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that, Toren,¡± Diella said imperiously. ¡°We¡¯ll teach you. Just watch!¡±


    She waved her hand, and a parchment settled over the table written in glowing ink. ¡°This is our recipe! You can¡¯t mess it up, you know. Not with us helping.¡±


    I scanned over the ingredients, noting that I had no idea what any of them were. But as Diella gradually began to explain the process, I fell back into that warm fire again.


    All things considered, it was a relatively simple meal¨Cbut there was something chaotic about the preparations that started as we finally set our plans in motion. Lithen was in charge of maintaining a steady fire underneath a few pots of water and keeping the temps in check. Roa and I were both sent out to forage for ingredients, while Diella coordinated it all like a master chef.


    And thus I found myself hovering about the chamber, drifting from plant to plant and checking their descriptions against a little scrap of paper in my hands. A few ingredients hovered around me like an orbital asteroid field under my telekinetic control.


    I furrowed my brow as I looked at the plant in front of me. It looked slightly like a mushroom, except the head of mycelium appeared to be coated in some sort of glassy, reflective scale. The note on its little island read ¡°shimmerfreeze shroom.¡±


    Not what I was looking for. The last ingredient was indeed covered in glassy scales, but it was not a mushroom.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just tell me where the ingredient is?¡± I called out, amplifying my voice with sound magic so the phoenixes below could hear me. ¡°This last one is evading me purposefully. I know it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta learn to hunt for it!¡± Diella called back.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t hunting!¡± I echoed back, feeling annoyed. ¡°This is foraging! There¡¯s a difference!¡±


    I scratched my long hair with irritation, turning about in the air. My eyes tracked all of the floating islands, my mind trying to remember which I¡¯d visited and which I¡¯d missed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Roa said, hovering close to me after a moment. She smiled lightly, gesturing with an arm full of random herbs and spices. ¡°As you can see, of course.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as I looked at the scaled leaf. It had one hundred percent been trying to avoid me somehow. I was absolutely certain about that. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, bringing my ingredients in closer. ¡°I don¡¯t care what Diella says. These islands were avoiding me in some way.¡±


    Roa chortled, before waving me forward. ¡°Come on. We¡¯ve gotta actually cook all this now.¡±


    As the two of us settled down to the ground, my eyes traced the plants all around me. And unbidden, a hope welled up from within my breast. ¡°Hey, this is a longshot,¡± I said slowly as I finally touched down on the grass, ¡°but you wouldn¡¯t happen to have coffee plants here, would you?¡±


    Roa tilted her head, confused. ¡°Coffee?¡±


    Welp, there goes that possibility, I thought morosely, hanging my head. ¡°It''s a plant from my old world,¡± I explained with deepest sorrow. ¡°They had beans you could take out and roast. And when you steeped them for a while, you¡¯d get the masterpiece of all beverages. It helped you wake up in the morning with smoky undertones and caffeine. And this world just doesn¡¯t have it.¡±


    The stores of coffee I¡¯d nabbed from the Town Zone were running low again, but while it was nice, it was the cheap stuff. Canned Folgers was nothing to some good arabica beans.


    Roa patted me on the back consolingly. ¡°I could probably try to make something like that,¡± she offered. ¡°I am a master of nature magic, I¡¯ll have you know! If it¡¯s a mundane plant without mana enhanced properties, it shouldn¡¯t be too hard for me to engineer it for you,¡± she offered warmly.


    ¡°Thank you, Roa,¡± I said, looking at her as if she were a true deity. ¡°I would be in your debt beyond words if you did this for me.¡±


    The short-haired phoenix coughed in an embarrassed manner, looking away slightly. ¡°Of course, of course,¡± she said. Then she paused right as we neared the edge of the cooking area. ¡°And your Sculpting gift isn¡¯t done yet, sadly. It¡¯s going to take me longer than I expected.¡±


    I patted the woman on the back lightly. It was strange, my relationship with her and the others. They were older than me by a factor of a hundred at least, but our conversations made it feel as if we were the same age.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± I said. ¡°In my mind, you¡¯re already going out of your way to make it for me. I can¡¯t demand speed, too.¡±


    Roa¡¯s shoulders slumped slightly. ¡°Well, I do have some good news!¡± she said, trying to sound upbeat. ¡°You told me about how there was an artificer in Dicathen who could extract the abilities of a phoenix wyrm from their beast cores and store them inside a pendant. Well, I did not disappoint!¡±


    The phoenix pulled a couple of items from the folds of her robe, before pressing them toward me. ¡°They¡¯re pendants, just like the ones you talked about before. Break the core, and you¡¯ll be surrounded by shining scales. And when that cocoon is finally shattered, then zip! You¡¯ve teleported away!¡±


    I felt a grin break the surface of my face as I took in the pendants. They were simple things, wrapped in slight roots like a helix with a marble-sized beast core at the center. I took them gratefully, feeling reassured by the fact that I had this option.


    ¡°What are you two talking about over there?¡± Diella called, looking at us from where she still knelt in the seiza position. A few cooking utensils hovered about her under currents of wind as she awaited our ingredients. ¡°We need to start cooking!¡±


    Roa shook herself, pulling herself from her reverie. She patted me on the shoulder in a reassuring way, looking back toward Diella as we moved closer. ¡°It¡¯s nothing of importance,¡± she deflected primly, settling down beside Lithen again with an upturned chin. ¡°You probably wouldn¡¯t really care, Diella,¡± she said simply.


    Diella visibly shifted, that faux nonchalance of hers cracking under interest and curiosity as she looked between Roa and me. ¡°She gave me something that could really save lives,¡± I said honestly, crossing my legs as I sat on the grass. ¡°Now I¡¯m trying to think of who to give them to.¡±


    Diella¡¯s brow furrowed slightly as she looked at Roa more intently. ¡°You know, the Forum isn¡¯t¡­ decided yet,¡± she said. ¡°The clan could rule that this is unfair accommodations before a verdict was reached.¡±


    The oath-chains on my arm burned beneath my robes, a reminder of the soul-bound words.


    I felt my gut clench as the atmosphere darkened. Today was the day of my final appeal, and I¡¯d already decided on what I would do with my bond. Aurora herself was talking with some of her older kin, interacting and easing her burdens. But while we both felt confident in our success, it was still a¡­ touchy topic.


    The Forum had divided the Hearth deeply. In the few days since I¡¯d begun my speech, there was a clear delineation between the older and younger generations of Asclepius on what should be done.


    And no matter the outcome, I will be bound to it, I thought with a swallow. I¡¯d never really contemplated failure before, but I couldn¡¯t imagine myself losing ground. Professing my intent and desire for understanding was my greatest strength.


    ¡°I was just helping out a family member,¡± Roa said, squaring her shoulders as she looked at Diella. ¡°That isn¡¯t direct assistance in the war. You know that.¡±


    Lithen leaned forward, poking his massive finger into one of the pots he¡¯d been allowing to boil. His close-cropped hair reflected the light. ¡°But this does prove Toren¡¯s point in the Forum, doesn¡¯t it?¡± he asked, looking up. ¡°All of our elders fear direct combat and bloodshed. And I get that, you know? But we don¡¯t have to bleed ourselves.¡±


    His eyes darted to mine, before looking away. ¡°We didn¡¯t get to help our brothers in Life in time. I was little when it all happened, but I remember them still. I remembered feeling helpless.¡±


    My hands clenched around my knees. Indeed, many of the Asclepius were moved by my words to action. But in the process of doing so, I unearthed old wounds that had never truly healed.


    Diella poked at a stewpot with a ladle, her nonchalant airs simmering away like the water atop it. ¡°I¡¯m older than both of you, you know,¡± she said. She looked up, staring at Lithen, Roa, and me in turn. ¡°I understand the fire you all have. You want to make a difference. Want to help things. But¡­ you weren¡¯t here for the aftermath like so many of us.¡±


    Diella rhythmically moved through the process of preparing her ingredients. ¡°It was our elders who set out, searching through the scorched fires of djinni civilization as we looked for survivors. For weeks and months, we all did so, seeing atrocities and hellscapes that unbridled asuran battle brought. There were hundreds of millions of djinn across Dicathen, Toren. And in the wake of the Indraths¡¯ attempted coverup, we saw so much fire. So much ash. So much death.¡±


    She laid a peach-like fruit over a conjured cutting board, grabbing an intricately etched knife that had been hovering beside her. Her hands trembled for a moment, before she brought the knife down like a guillotine on the mana-imbibed fruit. Its juices splashed across the table.


    ¡°I know you think us fearful of intervention. But it is not so simple, Toren Asclepius. Even as one of our clan,¡± Diella said, looking up at me. ¡°You are¡­ fragile. It all is so very fragile. Many of us struggle to call flames to our fingers for their remembrance of dragonfire and what it could do when unmatched.¡±


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    I swallowed slightly, sensing the truth in her words. ¡°I understand,¡± I said. ¡°At least in part. Before Greahd, I would have likely sat out this war and let it play its course as I foresaw.¡±


    Diella gently set her knife down on the table. ¡°I know, Toren. I agree that something must be done. I will vote for you at the end of this next plea. It seems that the tide is shifting heavily in your favor regardless. But the others cannot be blamed for their reluctance. When asura go to war, lessers die.¡±


    Silence held the air for a time, the earlier aura of contentment simmering away as we all fell into our thoughts. Me, of what would come after I brought the Asclepius to Seris¡¯ cause.


    I won¡¯t that happen, I thought with grim resolve, my hands clenching over my knees. I won¡¯t let the people I¡¯m protecting be hurt. They keep saying that it can only end in death and fire, but they¡¯re wrong. They don¡¯t understand what we can do.


    My thoughts were interrupted, however, as Roa piped up in her chipper way. ¡°Diella!¡± she said, clearly intent on changing the topic, ¡°have you heard any word of Evascir? The titan is currently in Klethra, is he not? Keeping his ear close to the ground?¡±


    Diella blinked a few times, then a smile stretched across her face. ¡°Oh, yes!¡± she said after a moment. ¡°I suspect he¡¯ll be back soon. He owes me a book from the Great Library. I never got to read much when I was back in Epheotus, and I could do with more of the outside world.¡±


    Lithen¡¯s brows furrowed at this. He was a deeper thinker than his partner, and as he leaned forward to help Diella with her cooking, I could sense something bubbling to the surface. ¡°The outside world¡­¡± He kept his orange eyes trained on the cutting board as he shuffled ingredients toward the older phoenix. ¡°I struggle to remember what the sky felt like. When I try and see the blue, all I see is¡­ the white of marble. I joined the Asclepius for love of my Roa, and I shall never regret that, but¡­ I envy your Guardian, Diella. I envy that he can explore, dangerous as it is.¡±


    Roa melted into his side, for once silent as she stared upward, a longing there I¡¯d seen so much in her namesake. A longing that threaded through us all. The desire to fly.


    But even though they wished to feel the kiss of the wind, they feared leaving this place they¡¯d known for nearly all their lives.


    Roa¡¯s attempt at changing topic had only led from one avenue of sorrow to another.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had the chance to stay still,¡± I said, finally joining in to help with the divvying up of ingredients. ¡°Ever since I came to this world, I¡¯ve never had a place to call home. No Hearth for myself, or a place I could be certain to rest my head.¡±


    The phoenixes listened as I continued to speak from my heart, our arms a blur of repetition and motion. I conjured a shrouded knife over my fingers, using it to mince vegetables before passing them to Roa, who used some sort of magic to concentrate the mana within, before Lithen used a tongue of fire to roast them.


    ¡°I¡¯ve found that it isn¡¯t the place that matters most. It matters, yes. But it''s the people that are most important. If I¡¯m being honest¡­.¡± I squinted my eyes, staring up at the stones. And if I pushed past the fugue of love and acceptance and happiness in my heart, I could find the seed of discomfort being beneath the earth brought. How the lack of sky and stars made me feel trapped. Through the weave of silver vines and autumn leaves, this place was still a cave, barring me from the freedom my blood desired.


    ¡°It¡¯s the people that matter,¡± I said, thinking of how even those in the hell of East Fiachra found happiness in community. They pressed onward because they were together. And though this Hearth felt so very constricting, it was the phoenixes that made it a place of home. Not the marble or the leaves. ¡°The right people can make any cage beautiful. I don¡¯t think you¡¯re wrong for wanting to fly, or see the world. And I think that home will stay with you, wherever we go.¡±


    In the end, the food we made together was the most delicious I had ever tasted in any world.


    ¡ª


    ¡°Today we hear the final plea of Toren Asclepius,¡± Mordain¡¯s voice rang through the cavern. ¡°Today is the final push. If a majority decision is reached, either we shall bind our collective flock in support of Seris Vritra¡¯s eventual rebellion, or all will be forbidden from doing so.¡±


    The Lost Prince¡¯s eyes swept across his clan from where they sat in the balconies on high. ¡°Over the past week, many of you have thought long and hard on what shall become of us. But after Toren and Aurora finish their plea, the future of this world will be set in stone.¡±


    The ancient asura seemed old as he watched me gradually approach, his eyes and intent unreadable. Aurora¡¯s expression was somber as we passed, each like soldiers marching to war.


    The warmth of the hearthlights above was familiar. The weight of the asuran attention was familiar. As I finally took my stage above the mosaic of Faircity Zhoroa, I once again wondered what the djinn felt in every freehearing.


    I felt like the captain of a ship as I stood there, quietly absorbing the intent and heartfires of the phoenixes. The sea of their desires and fears was a challenge to overcome, every rise and turn of my wheel navigating my little boat of hope through a raging storm.


    But I was close. I could sense it in the storm like an old weathered sailor knew the skies and oceans. I was almost on the other side of this hurricane, and there would be warmth and sunlight waiting for me. For us all.


    I felt my heartfire pulsing in my chest as I inhaled. In and out. In, and out.


    ¡°The djinn were our brothers,¡± Aurora said behind me as I concentrated on my heartbeat. ¡°Those few who could not bring themselves to continue the Lifework. Those few who sought to live a quiet life, away from the lingering dragonfires. Who wished to mourn in peace.¡±


    My bond rose into the air slightly, our hearts beating as one as she called to those who yet were hesitant. The magical light outlined her in a warm, fuzzy halo, granting her mystical grace. Deep in my soul, I remembered the time I had first met the phoenix as I lay dying in the Clarwood Forest. She¡¯d seemed like the concept of beauty itself. Ethereal in robes of impossibly crafted sunlight.


    ¡°Our final plea will be different from the rest,¡± my mother said. ¡°Before, we offered words and logic. But while sophism and conversation is something of we phoenixes, it is not our truest nature.¡±


    ¡°I only recently became aware of what a Bloodtie was,¡± I continued, drawing the attention back to me. ¡°A way to share memories and emotions in the wake of loss. A way to leave behind your grief and step forward. But my bond and I¡­ we decided that the best way to show you all what drives us is through a shared death.¡±


    More conversed chattering. A few phoenixes looked at Mordain with growing uncertainty from where he lounged on the sidelines.


    Soleil predictably stood, a wildfire condensed in his core. I locked eyes with him, sensing the utter turbulence that roiled beneath his chest. He was angry. At me. At Aurora. At himself. ¡°There is no death you can show us, Toren Asclepius, that will outweigh the countless that will follow our intervention,¡± he hissed bitterly. With every plea, something in the man seemed to wither slightly as I clawed myself closer to victory. ¡°Do not expect us to be swayed by such things.¡±


    I let myself observe the gathered phoenixes, sensing their intent. I only needed a majority. And I was close.


    ¡°I have already swayed many,¡± I said, but not harshly. Where Soleil became more and more fiery with each plea, I knew I needed to keep my calm. ¡°There are more in this place who wish to spread their wings and do good. I can understand your fear, Soleil. I know it.


    ¡°I am the Willbearer of the Asclepius,¡± I echoed, punctuating my words with a flex of sound magic and intent. ¡°Countless generations have compounded their insight and desires into one little sliver of a soul. And on and on that soul has built into something truly great. Something that burns like a star and eclipses the world!¡±


    Soulplume threaded through my veins, my eyes burning as I fell deep into my Will. Feathered wings stretched beneath my eyes as the oath-chains on my arm burned red. Runic weaves of orange feathers traced over my body as I let myself dip deeper into that power, Aurora guiding me. The world sang.


    And as my power echoed out like a song, a few phoenixes stood in turn. Not to voice their questions, but to show the draw of my power.


    Roa. Lithen. Diella. Sundren. Aliara. Half a hundred more took their stance as Aurora held the room. The young of the Hearth pulsed out with their mana, our hearts beating as one as the sun seemed to shine in the relative darkness of this dungeon for a brief instant. Soleil winced, his once-stern eyes looking about with a measure of growing worry.


    A few of the older phoenixes shared his uncertainty, but none quite like he.


    So close, I thought to myself, feeling reassured by the chorus of heartbeats. So very close.


    I gestured wide with my arms, as if I were ready to embrace every single one of the phoenixes of our family. And when next I spoke, it was in sync with Aurora above me. ¡°I have marched through flames hot enough to burn even fire itself. I know the deepest darkest of the deepest dungeons. But that will not sway those yet fearful.¡±


    I exhaled, and then I let my heart beat. I showed none of the pain of the action as veins of heartfire emerged from my chest like the roots of a tree. They stretched for a dozen feet around me, splitting and twisting before circling back to me.


    And as I did so, I thought of one memory. One particular death that had changed everything I¡¯d ever known.


    J¡¯ntarion, dying in our arms. The last of the djinn as he told me the path I trod was one of his people.


    More phoenixes stood, not in support like the others, but in shock and surprise as those veins of heartfire threaded about us. I could see their orange lifeforces in each of their chests as they leapt with surprise at our blatant control of aether.


    ¡°A Bloodtie,¡± we whispered. We imbued all we could into those veins. ¡°We are not only Willbearers of the Asclepius. We bear the Will of another in our souls.¡±


    They floated forward. Like cautious fireflies, more and more of our family floated down. As moths were drawn to light, a hundred different people drifted about us. I felt their hesitance, each like a man who had never yet seen fire. Murmurs rose and abounded like currents on a sea. I met the eyes of those I had known for endless time and naught but a week, an encouraging smile growing on my face.


    We never shared our memories before with another. Our mind was our sanctum. It was the only place we could be free of the touch of others. But for the first time in an age, we let ourselves be truly open.


    And then the first brushed their hands through where they knew the warmth of a hearth awaited. Roa was the first. She thrust her hand forward as if it were into an open fire, but when she found the gemstones within, she gasped. Then more and more sank their hands into the lifegiving tethers. Haladrun. Anasa. Duskar. More and more and more let their fingers mist through.


    And they knew. That crux in Fate where it all had changed. I was a nexus of emotion and power; a beating heart delivering truth to all who touched my vessels.


    I sensed it. The very air was heavy with power and intent as all saw to the depths of our souls. I remembered as J¡¯ntarion¡¯s breath feathered across my ears, telling me I was on the right path. The last man of an entire race had died in my arms. He had whispered in my ears words of the path forward.


    I was not only Asclepius. I was djinn, too, carrying the last breath of their people as I fought for the future.


    Aurora and I were closer than we had ever been as the entire Hearth trembled with emotion. I felt myself dip deeper and deeper into my Will, feeling my body strain and protest. But our souls¨C¨Cthey were in perfect sync as we welcomed our home into the world¡¯s purest embrace.


    I was Aurora and Toren both in that pivotal instant.


    ¡°You fools,¡± a familiar voice uttered, sounding utterly broken. Like a shifting chord in a symphony of melancholy and hope, Soleil suddenly burned like a dark star of despair. ¡°You still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    We turned to the one we had known for long and short. Tears of fire streamed down his cheeks as he heaved, his blunt fa?ade finally breaking. He clutched that vein of heartfire close to himself, drowning in what it showed him.


    ¡°We do understand,¡± we whispered back. ¡°This is why we are here, Soleil. So that when all is done, everyone can have the chance to understand without the boots of tyrants across their very souls.¡±


    Soleil¡ªstill immersed deep in the vision of J¡¯ntarion¡¯s death¡ªshook his head. He clutched his hands together hard enough his nails drew blood, each sparkling with embers of orange lifeforce.


    ¡°I offer my rebuttal to your plea,¡± he said, before allowing his blood to cross with our veins.


    We had opened ourselves so fully¡ªexposed the depths of our hearts so purely¡ªthat there was no way to resist what happened. Like electricity racing along a conductive stream, Soleil¡¯s burning orange heartfire-blood used my veins as an outlet. It tracked back to my heart in an instant nearly too fast to comprehend.


    ¡ª


    The beast of the Indrath Clan choked on his blood as I kept my boot over his throat. His face¡ªonce an immaculately sculpted visage¡ªwas blackened and charred by my fire. Little flakes of blackened skin fell from his face, his lips nearly burnt away.


    The world around us heaved and trembled from the spatial spell he¡¯d used to keep us encased. Ripples of light misted in from everywhere and nowhere, before fracturing into countless streams and then swimming away.


    My core ached. It had not done so in a very, very long time. Blood streamed from my countless wounds, and though my mana fought to heal them over and char them shut with an effort of fire, I felt the struggle.


    This was no simple soldier I had felled. I knew not his name, but from the potency of his aetheric arts, I knew he was a full-blooded warrior of the Indraths.


    ¡°I have not known a monster such as you in my countless years of life,¡± I wheezed angrily, pressing my boot further into the dragon¡¯s throat. Broken gold scales flashed within the bloody flesh of my foe. ¡°Worthy opponent you might have been, Indrath. But you are as much a beast as those in the Glades despite your reason!¡±


    The little pocket dimension of reflectionless light trembled as the Indrath coughed up blood, the caster of the spell slowly bleeding into the dark stone. Red stained their impossibly blonde hair, their eyes misty purple as they struggled not to fade.


    His spatial domain had proven difficult to circumvent, but by coating my body in my blood and focusing on my heartfire¨Cthat warmth I vaguely felt around and through me¨CI had been able to navigate through it to my foe.


    ¡°They must all die,¡± the beast muttered mindlessly. He only had one arm, the other charred at the stump. Golden scales stretched up his left arm, the armor he¡¯d once worn broken and seared beneath the cuts of Lightdream¡¯s blade.


    The dragon¡¯s muttered words¡ªlikely one of his last¡ªmade my heart beat with rising hatred again.


    ¡°You were supposed to be protectors!¡± I seethed, slamming another fist into the dying body. Another. Then another. The near-corpse shuddered from the impacts, offering no resistance. My foe¡¯s mana sputtered as blood splattered across my arms. ¡°You told us all that you kept the lessers safe!¡±


    Mordain had told us all of the atrocities the dragons were wreaking on their subjects. The lessers¡ªthe People of Life¡ªwho knew not the arts of war and defense.


    I had not believed him at first. I was one of the first to rush from our nests in the Starbrand Sanctum, seeking out the Old World and the cities within.


    It had not taken long for me to discover the truth. I had searched for days to find a hidden alcove of lessers, knowing not what to expect.


    I had found them eventually, barely two hundred in a small cavern as they sheltered from the sky. Their rattled, broken, sorrowful forms. Even as lesser beings, the wretched sight I had seen had compelled me to action.


    The Indraths touted themselves as protectors. The lessers feared the sky itself, instead opting to cower in the depths of the stone. It was wrong.


    The dragon had arrived not long after, commanding the capture and submission of the lessers sheltered beneath my wing. With spear and shield in tow, they had demanded surrender of all.


    I had refused the fool. And so he had cast his spatial spell, drawing us into a strange labyrinth of twisting existence where every attack I threw threatened to come back toward me.


    But the scaled lizard had proved far from enough to overcome phoenix fire.


    I snarled, siphoning mana from my core, before I slammed my boot into and through the pale throat of the dragon, feeling as mana-enhanced flesh squelched. My boot impacted stone, sending reverberating power through the entire world. And the domain about me broke.


    I expected to return to the small coven formed by the djinn. But when I returned to the cave, it was only darkness.


    Strange, I thought, wavering from exhaustion. My arms burned. Was it not lit by motes like stars before I engaged the dragon?


    I needed to bring this news to Mordain. That I had slain an Indrath directly would endanger me to the dragons, but even more was that I had proof of their atrocities firsthand beyond just the words of the one called J¡¯ntarion.


    I stumbled into the twisting cavern. ¡°Rul-Kae?¡± I moaned, feeling my stomach twist from internal injuries. ¡°The beast is dead. Your people¡­ they are safe.¡±


    No response. Why was there no response?


    I only felt half an asura as I trailed my blood through the caverns. Searching. Calling. Uncomprehending.


    But I finally smelt it. The scent of charred flesh. And as dread coiled about my heart like the squeeze of a basilisk¡¯s venom, it began to fall into place.


    I arrived before them long enough. What survivors I had hoped to shelter beneath my wing.


    Except there was nothing left. Not even ash; only dark outlines amidst the stone. The entire cavern still glowed red-hot with my lingering fire mana, a slew of molten rock gleaming like a volcano. The small cave had expanded to the size of a thousand aurochs as the heat suffused the air.


    There was nothing left of the lessers. Not even ash.


    In the depths of my mana core, I realized that the spatial domain spell had not been what I suspected. It did not fully separate us from the world around us. I had thought our mana contained, our presence fully separated from the mortal plane as we battled about unseen platforms and refracting skies.


    ¡°Our people are done,¡± Rul-Kae had said. ¡°No matter what protection you offer, we shall only burn, phoenix. The only thing that can be done is hide away what is left.¡±


    They had been so broken inside. So defeated and awash with despair. And in place of the Indraths, I had deigned to offer myself as a weathering wing.


    ¡°Your power will only hurt ¡®lessers,¡¯ asura,¡± the woman had mocked. ¡°No matter how you try. It is the nature of power itself to corrupt those who wield it. Such is why we kept to peace for five millennia. Until power washed us away.¡±


    I swiveled my head slowly around the cavern, where once hundreds of hearts beat.


    Now there was only the sizzling of molten stone as the fire in my chest slowly died.

 Chapter 269: Icarus

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Aurora Asclepius


    Our soul-merger broke.


    As the Bloodtie fell away, the beautiful balance of our spirits became null and void. Toren fell to his knees, Soulplume retreating back into his core as the light of his eyes winked out. He heaved for breath, his lungs making ragged, wet sounds. Sweat ran down his skin.


    That sweat dripped down, running into the intricate mosaic of Faircity Zhoroa beneath him. Each drop of sweat seemed to refract any light that reached that impossible carving, twisting and distorting it.


    I didn¡¯t know how to feel. Didn¡¯t know what to feel. My spirit and essence both were weary and strained from the balance of Toren and I. I blinked, my vision choppy and slow as I looked up, searching for the help of our clan. My soul burned, and I needed¡­ I needed a balm. Something to ease that pain.


    And I found my family recoiling in dismay. All those eyes that had gazed down on us with awe and wonder and hope were now stained with ash and horror.


    They saw it, too, I realized. They saw Soleil¡¯s Bloodtie.


    ¡°You preach and preach about how to help the humans,¡± Soleil said, floating down to the platform. His eyes burned with old grief. ¡°But you don¡¯t understand what it means. You can¡¯t save every ant from an exterminator when your very boots tear apart their lives!¡±


    ¡°Then you won¡¯t even try?!¡± another voice interrupted. Roa. ¡°Sure, you tried to fight the dragon head on! But Toren said we don¡¯t need to battle! We can teach and assist! We know so much!¡±


    ¡°And what would that do?¡± Aluthar cut in, floating upward as well. One of Soleil¡¯s more fervent supporters. ¡°They¡¯d track us down eventually. We can try and try to support as we are, but it all ends the same! The Indraths or the Vritra¡­ they¡¯ll make examples of all those who receive our assistance!¡±


    ¡°Then we do it better! Hide it better! I thought you more than a coward, Alu!¡± another cut in.


    Aluthar¡¯s eyes flashed with his intent, his skin reddening. ¡°You saw! You saw what happened when Soleil tried to help!¡± S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°And you saw what J¡¯ntarion said!¡± another echoed.


    The noises and arguing built around us as my family rose from their perches, hovering and shouting and clenching their fists. The sound washed around and through my disoriented form as our collective broke into arguments and sharp gestures. Fire mana popped around us as the world twisted in response to their rage.


    I blinked, then hazily looked down at Toren. The swells of mana around us¡­ I couldn¡¯t feel it. Not really. But Toren¨Che was gasping for breath, clutching at his chest as his hair clung to his skin. His heartbeat stuttered as the weight of two hundred angry asura closed in on us.


    No! I thought suddenly, drifting down and wrapping Toren in an embrace as I tried to bolster his mind against the pervading effects. No, they need to stop! They don¡¯t understand!


    Toren¡¯s mouth gaped, opening and closing as he struggled to draw in air. He slowly drowned beneath the emotions of his own clan.


    ¡°Cease your arguing!¡± I yelled, trying to be heard as I desperately clung to Toren¡¯s trembling body. ¡°Please! Stop it! You must!¡±


    My head whipped around desperately, my feathered hair turning as I frantically tried to find someone who could listen. Roa looked about ready to fight with Soleil, but they stared not at me. Aliara and Lithen were so close that I could taste the bloodlust. Diella was rushing about the room, trying to separate who she could, before another pulled her into an argument.


    They couldn¡¯t see me. Toren¡¯s tether had evaporated as his intent broke and now I was but a ghost again. Ignored. Separate. Dead.


    They¡¯ll kill him, I realized with horrid certainty. They¡¯ll kill my son with their obliviousness! They turn their eyes from what is in front of them into their own little worlds!


    That knowledge rested in my spirit for a moment, burning like an angry fire. And as the seconds stretched and my chick¡¯s heartbeat stuttered beneath me, I felt that flame rise. I opened my mouth, ready to scream and shout and admonish them for their foolishness. For hurting Toren with their folly.


    ¡°This is by far enough,¡± a sorrowful voice spread across the Forumground. ¡°This plea is over. Your arguing only hurts those you seek to protect.¡±


    My head snapped around. Mordain.


    My brother looked at us with sad eyes as he stepped forward. The fire he bore was not one of rising rage and fury, as I felt in my gut. It was a cool, low burning thing that nonetheless drew the attention of all.


    Mordain¡¯s warm aura encompassed Toren like a blanketing shield, blocking out the smothering waves of my clan¡¯s passion.


    My son inhaled a ragged, wet breath from where he knelt, coughing as his body suddenly responded to him once more. I hugged him tightly, pressing on his back to better force him to breathe.


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    In and out, Toren, I thought, measuring his intake as my sole focus became the young bird in my arms. Careful. In and out.


    His eyes stared up at me with incomprehension and dreary terror as they blinked, sweat pooling around us. His body was weak and limp in my phantasmal arms.


    ¡°You¡¯re safe, Toren,¡± I said, trying to be comforting as I brushed his hair from his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re safe, alright? It¡¯s fine.¡±


    He limply raised a hand, taking mine for a moment as he drew strength from it. ¡°The plea,¡± he said with weak, broken breaths. ¡°The plea.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not important right now,¡± I said, hugging him close. ¡°You¡¯re safe. That¡¯s what matters.¡±


    His drunken eyes lolled to the side, staring toward the balconies. Mine followed suit.


    Where before the Hearth had been yelling and screaming and ready to hurl fists, now they were silent as a grave. Not even the crackling of fire could be heard as each member of our clan seemed to understand what exactly had just transpired.


    Mordain still stood before us, his aura sheltering and warming. He stared up at the rest of our clan with a face that looked older than Geolus itself.


    ¡°This plea is over,¡± he repeated. ¡°We are a flock of doves, not vultures. Do not let your talons tear into those around us.¡±


    Roa stared down at Toren¡¯s body in mute horror. Soleil looked away.


    I watched on as Mordain held out a hand to either side. Like the scales of justice, his hands opened in an almost benevolent way. ¡°Burn your feathers now,¡± my brother ordered, a rare note of¡­ anger rising in his chest. ¡°Cast your votes.¡±


    The ground around the stage shifted, and two pillars rose. Atop them, two nests of woven silver vines and autumn leaves grew as if from thin air. Each glistened as if held in the palm of a god. My brother stepped aside as he let the options show to our clan.


    On the right was salvation. On the left, destruction. One for, one against.


    Toren coughed weakly, the sound echoing and reverberating through the stadium. His trembling body shook as he tried to stand, but it gave out on him before he even managed to get his feet out under him.


    ¡°Need to stand,¡± he said, his eyes widening. ¡°If I can¡¯t stand, then they¡¯ll¡­ they¡¯ll let it fall.¡±


    I understood what he meant. I understood deeply his intent, the knowledge that if Toren could not stand, then our plea would fail. If a lesser could not stand beneath the weight of the Asclepius aura, then there would be no hope for intervention.


    The phoenixes of our clan slowly drifted down, feathers appearing in their hands. I could see in their eyes that many wanted to rush forward, to tend to my son. But shame held them back. Fear held their tongues.


    Soleil was the first to cast his vote. He stared down at Toren¡¯s kneeling form, his brow scrunching and his bearded face twisting with his unique brand of cowardly sorrow.


    He placed his feather into the nest to the left. The one that denied us. Though all the other phoenixes of the Hearth could not see me, I knew the old warrior could if he tried. Yet as he laid the first brick in a monument of despair, he acted as if he could not. His eyes roamed past me as he masked his guilt. And he walked to the left, standing in defiance of all that I was.


    And that fire in my gut reignited. That ember that had been extinguished since my capture in Taegrin Caelum. That fury and drive and power that saw me sing began to rage against the confines of my spirit, fueled by the very cowardice of those I called my flock.


    ¡°We will see you stand,¡± I said, half a vow and half a curse. ¡°You will stand before them, my son.¡±


    My hands snaked under his arms, holding his sides tightly. His robes were drenched entirely through with sweat as another stepped forward.


    Diella. Toren stared into her eyes as he gritted his teeth, struggling to move. He shifted, moving painfully slowly.


    She saw his resolve, saw the clench of his teeth. And she placed her feather in the nest to our right, her coal-dark hair seeming to brighten as she did so. She stepped to the right, placing herself in silent support.


    More came as Toren finally raised a single foot. His will and drive screamed across our bond as I supported him, gave him a source of power and drive.


    One for. One against. Two for. Three against. One for.


    The numbers continued, racing like stallions to the finish line. Feathers lined the nests in glistening orange waves as time pushed on.


    This is just like with that wretched vicar, I thought to Toren as he planted his feet. More and more of our family streamed by, solemn eyes staring at his struggle. Some saw its worth. Others saw futility. We will stand despite what they think, Toren. We will stand!


    One foot planted. Toren¡¯s boot burned itself into the marble of the Forumground. His consciousness winked in and out, threatening to fade. But the light of my soul kept him present.


    Sundren and Lithen voted true. Aluthar did not. More and more continued on.


    Toren began to rise, his knees trembling and shaking beneath the strain of lingering intent.


    And it was almost over. Ninety-nine for. Ninety-nine against. Our lives balanced on the brink as the final voter stepped forward.


    Aurora of the Vine, named in my honor. Roa¡¯s face was wrought in a mask of guilt and sorrow as she stood between the paths, her feather clutched close to her chest. On either side, near a hundred asura watched in grim silence. Her will would decide the fate of our clan. The fate of our world.


    ¡°You can stand up, Toren,¡± she whispered, clutching that feather close to her chest. Tears blurred the edges of her vision. ¡°Please.¡±


    Toren¡¯s jaw clenched so hard that his teeth cracked. The pain of it sent startling clarity through his soul, pushing away his fatigue. The trembling of his leg ceased as the attention of our clan focused on this final gambit.


    Toren¡¯s mana pulsed around him, thrumming through his body in strengthening waves. And with my arms at his back, he began to slowly rise.


    It was a slow thing. Something in Toren¡¯s spirit had been strained by the weight of my clan¡¯s intent, but it was not enough to keep him down.


    That is right, Toren, I thought as I felt the burning of his muscles. The ache in his core. You are Asclepius. Even with the physique of a human, you can stand beneath the gods. Show them all.


    He rose, pulling his shoulders back as he stumbled, nearly toppling. But he looked Roa in the eye, his hazy consciousness solidifying as he faced this hurdle.


    Roa¡¯s trembling lips began to shift into a relieved smile as Toren finally stood, his intent proud and defiant. She moved her feather to the side, ready to place it in the rightmost nest. Because men could live beneath the auras of the gods. Because there was a path forward. Because¨C


    Toren¡¯s mana finally winked out. I felt it first in his soul, the exhaustion he carried deep in his essence traveling down his spirit and into his Vessel. His core gave one, final heave.


    And he fell forward, his mind abandoning him as he succumbed. Blackness overrode his mind like shadow.


    I failed to catch him. I moved forward, trying to slow his fall. But the sound of his body crashing against the stone platform was louder than any sound spell he had ever created as it reverberated through the Forumground.


    My phantom eyes slowly traced up to the woman who was named after me, hoping against hope.


    And I found my hope extinguished as she stared mutely down at my son¡¯s body, a mirrored despair in her soul. Those tears finally streaked from the edges of her eyes.


    Never taking her eyes from Toren, she placed that final feather in the leftmost nest.

 Chapter 270: Branded

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Asclepius


    In my dreams, I flew. My feathers were a glistening, translucent silver as I coasted about the winds, free and unburdened. The scent of summertime eddied about me as the land passed far below.


    Gravity tried to take me, but it could not hold me. The sky was mine. Gravity? It was a paltry, petty thing. An arrogant thing.


    I coasted about, enjoying my freedom. That sweet kiss of the breeze let me know I was alive. For such a long time, I coasted on the winds. The embers of those I loved drifted about on my feathers. In my talons was a hope so precious I could not put it into words.


    I let a tailwind push me higher as I flapped my wings, calling into the expansive world. It echoed as the reverberating joy of a falcon, yet there was music inside, too. I continued my cries, singing to the world as my heart beat.


    This is life, I thought, flying high above a continent I could not name. This is wonder.


    But then the winds started. I flapped my wings in surprise as the world began to churn, winds picking up and ruffling my feathers. I turned an uncertain look behind me as I felt the scent of a storm approaching.


    I swiveled, my beak poised as I followed that scent. What could intervene in my domain? I would see their wings broken and their¨C


    My heart went cold.


    A black hurricane approached, the wall a hundred miles high. Never had I seen a storm such as this. Never had I felt such power as it surged forward. The shadows that storm cast over the land were dark enough to trap light. It howled and raged, a million shifting scales and batlike wings churning inside.


    And everywhere it went, the land was rent asunder. Lightning bolts the color of a grave flashed and screamed, carving across the earth with the sound of thunder. Winds that decayed and eroded and took the souls from their victims turned mountains to dust and trees to corpses.


    I cannot face this! I realized, flapping my wings as I did an about-turn, looking east for a reason I could not understand. I cannot!


    I sped along with the force of lightning. The hurricane laughed at me as I flew, my wings flapping faster and faster. It mocked me as I struggled like a mourning dove facing entropy itself. Each crackling bolt and tumbling mountain behind me sounded like a sneering cackle.


    The hurricane could move faster, I knew. Even as it reaped the lives of a million souls, I knew it still was toying with me.


    It was gaining. The winds pushed me to the side, tearing at my feathers. I nearly fell from the sky as lightning crashed overhead, taunting tendrils misting across my beak and making me spasm.


    Can¡¯t fall, I thought, terrified. I saw that shadow inching closer, casting the world into a darkness blacker than the blackest night. It will tear me apart!


    I opened my beak to scream. To call out as those winds teased at my tailfeathers, staying just out of reach. I wanted to cry out. To who, for what, I knew not. I just needed to cry.


    Then something flashed, binding my beak in a weave. I blinked, stupefied, as vines stretched up from the forest floor far below.


    Silver vines erupted from that forest, cascading upward with smothering love. I struggled against the tendril binding my tongue, ripping and tearing at it with my claws. The glittering plant came apart beneath my talons, freeing me.


    I breathed, looking upward as that storm and the vines both sought my soul. The stars. That is the only place I am safe!


    I flapped my wings, changing my angle. I began to ascend, the turbulent winds and crashing devastation of a damned god pulling away my feathers. More and more of them fell away, ripped from me and with them taking my flight.


    There was a moment there. Where I was but a gnat in the face of a typhoon as I hung motionless, stripped of all that kept me safe.


    And then the vines caught me. They swiveled about my wings. Wrapped my feet. Created a noose about my throat. My skin began to decay and wither as silver vines wrapped my feet. I struggled and thrashed against that untold care as the storm cackled.


    I couldn¡¯t even scream as autumn leaves blocked my sight, and I was pulled back toward the ground. I felt it approaching, the gravity that I had denied for so long finally finding me.


    I surged upward, crying out in pain and terror. My eyes shot open as I clutched at my chest. Sweat beaded down my face, drip-drip-dripping in a rhythm that outpaced my heart.


    I was¡­ I was in my rooms? In the Hearth?


    I turned around numbly, trying to understand why I was here. What had happened.


    The sound of a page turning brought me back to reality. I turned numbly, noting Mordain as he sat nearby. The way he lounged in the chair was almost effortless, a book in his hands. He casually turned the page, the sound of the paper echoing in the room.


    It filtered back to me slowly. My memories of my final plea. The utter union I¡¯d held with Aurora as our souls were in perfect sync. As we laid out that core memory of ours to all.


    We didn¡¯t share memories. Aurora and I¡­ we couldn¡¯t afford to. Not with the darkness that plagued us. That haunted our minds and soaked into our thoughts. But here, deep in this Hearth? With our family and clan?


    For the first time ever, we¡¯d felt safe enough to open our minds. To let others see our memories. But Soleil had¡­


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been asleep long,¡± Mordain said as if remarking upon the weather, breaking me from my downward spiral. ¡°Only a couple hours. Your body and soul were strained from what happened today.¡±


    He peered up at me, each of his pupils like the caldera of an active volcano. ¡°You opened yourself up too much,¡± he admonished. ¡°You would not have suffered as you did if you had not laid your soul bare.¡±


    I opened my mouth to speak. To say that that was what was necessary if I wanted to impress upon¡­ upon my family. The gravity of it all.


    I was Spellsong. It was my gift¡ªmy purpose¡ªto instill understanding. I ingrained that deep in my being with every single concert in Alacrya. With every shift and sway of my music, I brought people closer together.


    And then in Darv. Seris¡¯ directive was to bind Dicathen and Alacrya together; to really be the connective glue that made resistance against the High Sovereign possible. And I¡¯d¡­ I¡¯d been succeeding.


    I¡¯d come here with that confidence. That belief in my abilities. That if I spoke from my soul, all would listen. That was something etched deeper into my essence than any rune. The foundations stretched lower than those of Taegrin Caelum, and I¡¯d thought them sturdier than the ground of Mount Geolus.


    But now¡­


    ¡°There was no other way,¡± Aurora said, appearing beside me. Her emotions ran hotter than I¡¯d ever felt them as she laid a hand on my shoulder. Her phantom shade glared daggers at Mordain as her fingers dug into my tunic. ¡°We are beings of emotion and passion, Mordain,¡± she sneered with a smoldering fury. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve forgotten such, with how you¡¯ve extinguished every bit of fire in your blood. But that is our truest essence. It seems only some of us remember this.¡±


    I was once again reminded of how ancient this being was as he turned his eyes up to us. But right now, he didn¡¯t garb himself with the old wisdom of a sage. No, he looked more like a withered husk. A corpse that still moved.


    ¡°You¡¯ve found your fire again, Aura,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I am glad for that.¡±


    ¡°And all it took was my family burning everything!¡± my mother yelled, more anger and rage pouring out of her than I had ever seen. ¡°Do you know what will come of us now?! Do you know what will happen to this world? It will be torn asunder by war and plague and death while we watch! My son and I are bound here! Bound by Oath and the Will of the clan!¡±


    While Lady Dawn burned hot as a funeral pyre, I couldn¡¯t think. If I thought, then I¡¯d think of Seris. I¡¯d think of Naereni and Sevren and Lusul and all those I¡¯d failed.


    The oath-chains on my arm glistened, telling me that any betrayal of the vow I¡¯d sworn would result in the breaking of all I knew. I couldn¡¯t break my oaths. For the same reason I could never afford to let the Legacy return.


    ¡°Indeed, you¡¯re both bound to Clan Asclepius,¡± the Lost Prince sighed, closing his book. ¡°That was the basis of the oath. And it is Toren who is truly trapped by our clan.¡±


    Aurora opened her mouth again, fiery words and caustic insults ready to surge. But then she met her brother¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Oh, Morn,¡± she said instead, her voice coming out as a whisper as some unspoken message passed between them. ¡°No.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what had happened between the two, but I felt it as it doused the fire in Aurora¡¯s heart. It wasn¡¯t like a hurricane tide ripping away the flames. No. This was a smothering, loving thing that snuffed out her inner candle.


    Mordain smiled softly, and I thought I saw tears glistening at the edges of his eyes. When he blinked, however, they were gone. ¡°It¡¯s nice to hear you call me that again, Aura,¡± he whispered, standing up. ¡°It¡¯s been millennia since you¡¯ve acted like the little sister you are.¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be that way,¡± Aurora pleaded, sounding¡­ like a young child. She floated forward, her hands grasping Mordain¡¯s robes like a lifeline as grief flooded through her. ¡°You¡¯re the head of the clan. You can do something. This isn¡¯t the way forward.¡±


    ¡°This is what I can do,¡± Mordain said, not looking his sister in the eye. ¡°Your son made his choices. He made his oaths. And these are the consequences, Aurora.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have the energy to ask what this was about. I could sense the gravity of my mother¡¯s talk with her brother, but I couldn¡¯t look past my failure.


    ¡°But there must be another way. You look into the future. You have the arts of my husband¡¯s people. There must!¡±


    Denial flooded over our bond as Aurora pleaded with her brother like a subject praying for salvation from their lord.


    ¡°You agreed to the terms, Aura,¡± Mordain repeated, his voice straining somewhere deep in its timbre. ¡°I cannot break them. I am clan head, but I am not everything. This is the only way. I told you before. I warned you.¡±


    I thought I could see it. See how each of my mother¡¯s words wore down something that had been close to breaking for a very, very long time. His last word came out sharper, an edge revealed as it gleamed.


    ¡°Then make an exception! Anything but this. We found another way with Kezess. This¨C¡±


    I started to shift as I finally felt the Asclepius man¡¯s intent flare, his heartfire pounding outward once. He seemed to swell like a growing wildfire, his teeth gnashing as he grew ready to burst.


    ¡°There is no other way!¡± Mordain erupted, glaring down at his sister¡¯s ghost. ¡°Don¡¯t you see? I warned you before this started! I told you that it would divide us! And you didn¡¯t listen! Didn¡¯t think!¡±


    Aurora recoiled as if she¡¯d been struck, floating backward as Mordain¡¯s heartfire finally pulsed. The Lost Prince shoved a finger forward, the tip seeming to bore deep into my bond¡¯s heart. ¡°You think it¡¯s only Toren that will have to do this? It¡¯s you as well, sister. That is what your son did. And Chul? If Chul does not obey the demands of the Clan, he will be subject to the same fate! He will have no choice but to join you in your punishment!¡±


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    The phantom shade of my mother stopped in her flight, stumbling backward as Mordain¡¯s words struck her like physical blows. ¡°You never think! You never look to the future, Aura! Always it¡¯s emotional, impulsive decisions; always fueled by that fire! You can never look past those feelings of yours to what truly matters!¡±


    With every word, my mother took a single step backward, and Mordain stepped forward. Cracks stretched through her at every syllable, yawning wider as Mordain sank his talons deep into her heart.


    Until finally, she broke.


    Aurora fell to her knees, tears streaming from her eyes as Mordain¡¯s words tore at her soul. I found the strength to push aside my failure as her grief and sorrow tore at a part of me I didn¡¯t know could hurt.


    I stumbled, pulling myself off the bed. I hobbled over to where the shade of my mother wept fiery tears, hugging her as I tried to offer some sort of comfort. I forced my way through my internal conflicts, using her form as an anchor.


    I glared up at Mordain, my teeth gnashing. For the first time, he glared back down, that aura of endless grace and patience evaporating as his fists clenched. ¡°Why do you need to be cruel?¡± I hissed, holding Aurora. She wept fiery tears into my robes, sobbing uncontrollably as she clung to me with the pull of a star.


    I remembered the emotions that had gripped me like a vise in the wake of Norgan¡¯s death. The utter horror and disbelief, followed by the thoughts of what could have been. When I¡¯d grieved him, I didn¡¯t just lament his loss. I lamented everything that could¡¯ve been.


    And Aurora grieved. As if hundreds had died at once, it washed over me in a tide. My earlier self-sorrow was quenched in that typhoon of internal tears.


    She felt so small in my arms.


    ¡°Why did you hurt her?¡± I snarled, staring up at Mordain as I gave my bond comfort. ¡°You¡¯re her brother! You aren¡¯t supposed to hurt her!¡±


    Mordain laughed. It was a dry, sardonic thing like coarse sandpaper. ¡°Me? Me hurt her?¡±


    He leaned forward, his eyes flashing orange as he stared through me. ¡°You still don¡¯t understand, do you, Toren? You swore an oath when you started the Forum. When you rushed forward, led by your impulsive desires, you devoted yourself to the Will of the clan.¡± His eyes flicked to the oath-chains on my left arm. ¡°And if you betray this oath, you know what will happen. You can never leave the Hearth to intervene in lesser affairs, lest your core shatter. You must prevent the descent of the Legacy, lest your core shatter. And if your core shatters? Then Aurora is lost to us all.¡±


    I clenched my arms around my mother as her sobs reached a crescendo, that grief worming through my soul as dread slowly weaved alongside my earlier fury.


    In a furious mockery of his earlier presentation, Mordain held his hands out to the side. ¡°Two impossibilities, Spellsong. But these oaths bind your Clan. They bind Aurora¡¯s Clan. They bind Chul¡¯s Clan.¡±


    My eyes slowly widened as the implication finally clicked; the only way out of the grave I had dug for us all. My mouth felt dryer than the deepest depths of Darv as I trembled in turn with my mother. Each tear that struck my shoulder held the weight of a hammer breaking skulls. Memories of all I had experienced in the past weeks coursed like molten sap through my mind, scouring channels of burning pain as I finally understood.


    The companionship. The understanding and sense of belonging I had finally accrued, where I¡¯d never thought it possible before.


    I said nothing as I stared up at the Lost Prince, my body suddenly feeling as weak as it had when I¡¯d been barely stronger than an unadorned. Because this meant¡­ This meant that I had, to my mother¡­


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I whispered, the words like hot, scalding ash leaving my throat. It hurt to breathe, as if the plume of a volcano had coated my lungs in smoke. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me this would happen?¡±


    ¡°You had every chance of victory in the Forum, Toren,¡± Mordain said, his ire abruptly cooling. The hint of the supernova was carefully suppressed and systematically murdered as the Lost Prince regained control. He stood like an unfurling willow branch, all unnatural calm and neutered fire. ¡°But I did warn you. I tried to dissuade you from this course. But you made your choices. After all, what was it you said to me at the very end of our talk?¡±


    I knelt, feeling parts of my soul crumble as I held my inconsolable mother. I had nothing else to say. My own words flickered back to me. I¡¯d felt so powerful in that moment, so assured of my own righteousness. But now I saw them for the naive, damning words they were.


    ¡°Tell me how many futures you saw where this talk did anything to dissuade me from my course,¡± a vision of the past muttered, condemning the future. Because I knew, before my wax wings burned, that even if I had been told the great implications of failure I would have still tried.


    And as I stared into Mordain¡¯s eyes now, a burning volcano mirror of that time not long ago, I saw inevitability once again.


    ¡ª


    I didn¡¯t have much to pack. My dimension ring held most of my belongings, namely a few changes of clothes, the pelts of the echo vespertion and timestop yeti, a few miscellaneous trinkets. My notebook on that otherworld novel.


    And the phoenix wyrm pendants Roa gave me.


    Each of my steps through my rooms carried a burning fire. I used the despair in my mind for kindling, letting it burn in an enraging tempest. I never allowed myself to think of the weight of my failure here and all it implied. I tossed it into the pyre of fury.


    My intent warped and welled as I marched over to the desk I¡¯d been given. I began packing up what other clothes I had as I struggled to keep my mana bound in my core.


    ¡°You can hate me,¡± I grunted. ¡°I deserve it.¡±


    I felt no response from my bond. Our tether was cold and dead, the feather in my core granting me no mana. I knew not if she blamed me for what was about to come.


    She might even hate me as much as I hate myself, I thought with a sneer, marching toward my door. I¡¯m going to steal something from her more precious than anything Agrona ever took.


    I could sense her shade as it lingered around me. If I really tried, I knew I could see her if I pulled on that sense. But I knew what I would see.


    I couldn¡¯t afford to see it. I stared down at the black charwood of the desk for a time, feeling it build and build. All that emotion fuelling my phoenix-fire higher.


    Mana built around my knuckles, a shrouded spirit outlining me as my heartfire trembled. I felt the power I could output increase as mana and fire sputtered around my fist.


    I screamed in rage, whirling on my feet. I hurled a wild haymaker at the wall, wanting to punch something. Wanting to hurt something.


    I slammed that fist into the nearby wall. My fingers shattered and broke from the sheer force, blood splattering before it was instantaneously burnt away. The reverberating sound mana traveled through the marble, attacking it and wearing it down from within.


    But the wall didn¡¯t even crack from the rumbling force imbued into it. The wash of flames hot enough to turn men to ash in an instant left no mark beyond soot and broken dreams. Blood ran in rivulets along my hand.


    I¡¯ll have to tell Seris I failed, I thought. I failed her. I failed her rebellion.


    Maybe she¡¯d reassign me from my position in Darv after this. I was supposed to be that one big tether, wasn¡¯t I? Never before had I opened myself to anyone as much as I¡¯d opened my soul in that final plea. And I¡¯d failed.


    But beyond that¡­


    ¡°I¡¯ll find Chul,¡± I vowed, my broken hand healing over in a wash of lifeforce. ¡°I¡¯ll find my brother. If the Asclepius will not help us, I know he will. He¡¯s my brother. He¨C¡±


    My words choked off as reality came back to me. Chul was my brother now, yes. But if he wanted to help¡ªif he wanted to assist the lessers of this world against the tyrants of the Indrath and Vritra¡ªhe¡¯d have to make the same sacrifice I was about to undergo. The same sacrifice that I forced upon him without thought or care.


    I¡¯m sorry, Mom, I thought, my fire dying down slightly. I¡¯m so sorry.


    She did not respond.


    I stalked from the room, little scorch marks following my footprints. My body felt burning hot with anger as the phoenixes I passed shied away, averting their eyes in shame.


    But as my direction became clear, I found more than a few Asclepius hesitantly following after me. Silent, of course, like the muted songbirds they were. But they were will-bound to try and stop what I was about to do.


    They could sense my anger.


    When I reached the doors of the Hearth, there was already a contingent of phoenixes waiting for me. Soleil stood stalwartly at their front, his stance like iron and his mana like a controlled wildfire. His gaze was solid and determined as he stared down at me.


    And far to the side, Roa slumped in the shadows.


    I stopped, staring off with Soleil and his half-dozen compatriots. I swept my eyes over them, clenching my jaw. ¡°You move quickly.¡±


    ¡°The Forum came to its conclusion,¡± Soleil answered. ¡°If your intent is to leave in defiance of our clan, we will stop you.¡±


    I laughed. It was a dark, sardonic thing. It sounded an awful lot like Mordain¡¯s earlier laugh, devoid entirely of humor.


    ¡°Our Clan,¡± I echoed back, not really looking at Soleil. ¡°Our Clan.¡±


    It was a beautiful dream. A fleeting one, like the kiss of a sun just as it sets. The aromas of home and hearth still lingered about me, sinking into my skin and caressing me with the promises of fall leaves.


    I inhaled deeply, taking in those smells. The scent of hickory and cinnamon and spice. They suffused my entire being for a moment as I just let myself¡­ feel.


    I remembered the sense of warmth and companionship I felt when I first came to the Hearth. A warmth and companionship I never thought I could feel. Here, everything of me was accepted in a way I¡¯d found in no other place.


    They can separate us, I thought to my bond. My mother. I felt something in me lurch as I proposed the possibility, fearful. They are the masters of rebirth. They are your clan. Your family. I¡­ we can break this bond while maintaining your life. If there are any¡­


    Aurora¡¯s shade manifested slowly. She¡¯d always looked like an ethereal angel, like a goddess that brought the dawn. But as her feather-red hair clung to her, unable to sway in a breeze, she appeared more a husk. A corpse. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°So I would trade the unlife I have earned for another cage?¡± she asked, hollow. ¡°A birdcage of oaths for one of silver vines and autumn leaves?¡±


    I recoiled, stung by her words as they pierced my soul.


    My bond swept her eyes over the gathered phoenixes. More arrived by the moment, the intent in the air simmering lowly. Guilt. Worry. Anger. Uncertainty. It all pervaded each and every member of our clan.


    Most could not see her. Not without my tethers of heartfire. ¡°No matter what, we will always be caged. So we move forward, Toren. As we always have. Agrona will not stop. Kezess will not stop. They will find this place eventually and tear it apart if we let them.¡±


    I stared at the ghost for a time. I wanted to tell her I was sorry again. To beg and plead for some sort of penance.


    ¡°If they will not fight for themselves,¡± my mother said, looking up at me, ¡°then we will.¡±


    I nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. We will fight for them.


    Roa approached next. Hesitant, on feet that seemed like they might crumble from the barest shift. ¡°Soleil is right,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to go, Toren.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond, still staring at the engraved phoenix on the exit of the Hearth as I tried to work up my courage.


    ¡°We¡­ maybe we can send a message to your friends,¡± Roa tried, insistent at my silence. ¡°She can come here too. You don¡¯t need to be alone. It¡¯s not the end of the world. You can try to overturn the Forum in a few decades, too.¡±


    But we didn¡¯t have a few decades. And it would be the end of my world, I thought, moving forward instinctually. I wrapped Roa in a hug, squeezing tightly in a mirror of the first time we had met.


    She began to cry, sensing the emotions I subconsciously projected into the air. ¡°I can make you that coffee, right?¡± she said, a frantic edge entering her voice. ¡°You loved that drink in your old life. You can have it here. You can¡¯t leave.¡±


    So desperate are they to pull my wings inward, I thought sorrowfully.


    I pushed the young phoenix away, looking up at her. I didn¡¯t blame her for her choice at the end of the plea. That would be too easy and too simple. Ninety-nine other phoenixes could have voted differently, and it was I who called the Forum in the first place. Neither did I blame Soleil for his pain.


    It was my failure. Mine and no other¡¯s.


    It was strange. Roa¡¯s words only served to heighten my resolve. Though she had been like an older sister to me in the short time we¡¯d known each other, I was reminded once again that this Hearth would never have what I needed. No coffee strain they made would be true. Every note of music I¡¯d play would never be beneath the sky. My wings would never feel freedom.


    Aurora shivered, turning away.


    ¡°You never really understood, Soleil,¡± I said quietly. I pushed Roa away, slowly walking toward the phoenix. ¡°You¡¯ve tried to smother the fire that drives me. And when that failed, you¡¯ve tried to cut off its oxygen.¡±


    I looked at him with a measure of pity in my eyes, an emotion that made his blocky orange brows furrow in the first moment of uncertainty.


    ¡°You underestimated the lengths a fool will go to for their ideals. Did Kezess¡¯ restrictions ever stop you from leaving to do what was right?¡±


    My eyes drifted to the side. Mordain lounged like a hunched corpse, out of sight. He raised his head, staring at me. He looked just like his sister at my side. Withered.


    ¡°Coward,¡± I accused, feeling a spark of white-hot fury deep in my soul. ¡°You¡¯re so afraid of becoming Kezess that you don¡¯t realize how much it¡¯s molded you into him. Fear is what made Lord Indrath a monster. Fear makes you one, too. You think that action is sin, Lost Prince, but inaction is what made Epheotus a land of endless warfare for countless millennia.¡±


    Mordain shrugged off my insults, staring up at me with hardened eyes. He remained silent. Always silent, when he could have spoken at any time.


    Until, finally, he spoke, when it was already far too late.


    ¡°Toren and Aurora Asclepius are bound to the oaths of their Clan; through their Clan,¡± he said dully. ¡°But I will never stop someone from leaving when they need to, Soleil. That is indeed what Kezess does.¡±


    Roa put it together first, her hand darting to her mouth. ¡°Mordain, no! Don¡¯t¨C¡±


    Time seemed to slow as the Lost Prince opened his mouth, my perception heightening as mana flooded through every passage in my body. I braced from all sides. Braced my body, my mind, my soul. And though I wasn¡¯t sure it was welcome, I tried to brace Aurora for it, too. I reached out with my mind, trying to cover her in a mental hug.


    I found relief when she accepted it. Her phantom hand found its way to mine as she clasped it in a death grip, her teeth bared as if in a snarl. Tears trailed down her cheeks anew.


    Agrona is pathetic, I thought, seeing Mordain¡¯s mouth move but unable to hear the words through the turmoil in my mind. A pathetic thing he was, thinking he could hurt Aurora. What he did was nothing.


    Tearing the image of Chul¡¯s face from Aurora¡¯s mind did hurt her. Indeed, it drove a dagger deep in her spirit. Deeper than any other hurt she¡¯d experienced before.


    But as I felt the Brand of the Banished burn itself across my neck, pierce my heartfire, and send hot pain through my very soul, I could only focus on the trembling form of my mother. As her shade began to shift and smoke, a symbol of a crossed-through fire appearing on her neck, I knew how to hurt someone more than the High Sovereign ever could.


    My grief and pain were paltry, petty things. The smoking rune on the side of my neck might sear my deepest essence, but it was nothing to the assaulting grief that nearly shattered my mother¡¯s shade into a million tiny pieces.


    ¡°No longer are you of the Asclepius, Toren Daen and Aurora the Clanless. Never can you meet another of your former home. Never can you embrace them or know their warmth,¡± Mordain said into the grave-still silence of the Hearth, his voice a whisper. ¡°You are banished.¡±

 Chapter 271: Lightening the Shade

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Ellie¡¯s pure mana arrows thunked solidly into half a dozen floating targets. The glowing yellow projections glimmered with victory as she shouted in triumph, pumping her arms in the air and whooping. Boo even grunted in appreciation. Kathyln Glayder nodded in slow acknowledgment, her small lips quirking up into a smile.


    I stood near the edge of the training ground, a slight smile on my face as I watched Ellie give Kathyln an exuberant hug, and the poor ice princess awkwardly patted my sister on the back in return. The former princess of Sapin still didn¡¯t do physical contact well.


    This specific training yard wasn¡¯t even really a training yard. It was more an expansive, grassy balcony that looked out on the endless sea of clouds around Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. The kiss of the wind pulled at my shoulder-length hair, which I rarely kept in a knot anymore.


    Ellie said something, then grabbed her bow again. She prepared to line up a few more shots as Kathyln stepped backward, observing with a critical eye.


    I exhaled, letting my hold on Mirage Walk¡ªwhich I¡¯d improved even further with my constant sight of all four elements¡ªslip. For an instant, my mana signature flared slightly.


    Kathyln perked up, her high core purity allowing her to just barely glimpse what I released. Her hand darted to her waist, where her crystal-topped wand waited for battle. She swiveled her head around, covertly scanning the grounds for intruders or enemies.


    When her eyes finally found mine, she relaxed. The former princess said something to Ellie¡ªwho also glanced briefly in my direction. My little sister¡¯s nose wrinkled slightly, her brows furrowing. Then she turned away, her posture rigid as she lined up shots with her bow. Each one made me want to wince, especially with the compounding gaze of King Grey at the edges of my vision.


    The thunk-thunk-thunk of arrows slamming into targets followed Kathyln Glayder¡¯s footsteps as she glided over to me, her expression serene and icy cool beneath her long, black hair.


    The former princess of Sapin wore a conservative navy dress that covered much of her pale skin. The flaring sleeves were lined with light blue trim that almost seemed to sparkle like ice, drawing the eyes to the way the young woman seemed to float like a dainty ghost. With each flow of that embroidery, she became a flash of blue light in a small dark expanse.


    I stood straighter as the former princess of Sapin approached me, locking one arm behind my back in the noble manner. She lowered her eyes slightly as she took the edges of her dresses, curtsying lightly.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± she said coolly. ¡°How can I assist you today?¡±


    I restrained a bit of a sigh. Kathyln had been more formal than ever since my ascension. She¡¯d been reluctant to assist me in my endeavors as well until she¡¯d spoken in private with Blaine for a time.


    I raised my other hand in a covert gesture for Kath to rise. She did so, staring at me serenely. The perfect picture of a Dicathian noblewoman. ¡°I received news that House Flamesworth have been more cooperative recently with your efforts to reel them in.¡±


    Kathyln nodded slowly, brushing a single lock of hair behind her ear. ¡°They have been more receptive to my offers and pushes since I drew Elder Hester into your sphere of control,¡± she said, her voice nearly a monotone. ¡°The contract for production of steel barrels has gone through successfully. And those bullets have become a higher production priority than arrowheads near Blackbend. With their influence it is progressing far more smoothly.¡±


    Regardless of what the former princess said, I would still keep my eye on Trodius Flamesworth. He was a dangerous man who understood the game far too well, but I had him on a close leash.


    What he desired the most was status. And the only way for House Flamesworth to keep their status was through me.


    I let out a quiet sigh of relief. The game of noble politics was one I couldn¡¯t navigate without allies, and Kathyln Glayder had served to be an invaluable supporter in my current position. She knew every noble in Dicathen, having been raised as their princess. Her cooperation acted as a legitimizing force for my command. With her as a go-between, it helped grease the gears of my plans immeasurably.


    King Grey¡¯s eyes darkened from the edge of my perception. You¡¯re already viewing people for what they can get you rather than as people.


    ¡°That is good news,¡± I said sincerely. ¡°You¡¯ve made my job far easier. We wouldn¡¯t be able to put up as united a front from Sapin.¡±


    ¡°I am sure you would have managed without me, King Leywin,¡± Kathyln replied modestly. ¡°Your talent for these arts surpasses mine.¡±


    There was a slight chill in her eyes as she said so, and I felt the urge to wilt. Though the princess and I had grown closer over the course of our training together, my ascension to Commander of the Triunion had changed our relationship again.


    I found myself wishing for the shy noblewoman that helped me push myself to be the best mage I could be rather than the stern politician who stepped around me as if I were a lounging predator.


    ¡°We know each other well enough to leave the formalities aside, Kathyln,¡± I said wearily. My eyes drifted to where Ellie angrily shot arrow after arrow of pure mana into waiting targets. She didn¡¯t miss a single one. ¡°How is Curtis doing these days?¡±


    How did he take the news of my ascension?


    Kathyln loosened slightly. ¡°My brother was insensate for a time,¡± she said honestly. ¡°He wanted to march back to the castle and demand an explanation for why you usurped our father¡¯s position.¡±


    Though I kept my eyes loosely focused on my quietly angry sister as she pulled her arms back, lining up another shot on her bow, I let myself see out of the corner of my eye. ¡°For a time?¡±


    ¡°I impressed upon him the necessity of the current situation,¡± she said after a moment, also pretending to keep her focus forward. ¡°I¡­ know you, Arthur Leywin. You are not one to make needless plays for power. For most of the time I have known you, you have done all you could to keep your power and gifts hidden.¡±


    The princess coughed lightly, averting herself as she stared more to the side. ¡°My father told me some of what came before your ascension. I find your actions justified.¡±


    Let¡¯s hope she continues to think so, I thought, a wry smile stretching across my face.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said after a moment. My mind drifted back for a little bit to the simpler days of the Disciplinary Committee at Xyrus. The young Kathyln had always tended to her duties with exceptional care and precision, even way back then. ¡°For helping me with this. For helping and watching over Ellie. I couldn¡¯t trust anyone else.¡±


    The pale woman shifted slightly, seeming uncomfortable in her dress. Her expression took on that slightly flustered expression she got whenever I unintentionally got too close way back in the day. She raised a dainty hand, adjusting her collar in a bid for time. ¡°It is nothing,¡± she finally said once she¡¯d gathered herself a bit more. ¡°Your decisions and politics are sound. I have no reason to deny a simple request for keeping our continent safe.¡±


    My fists clenched slightly. To keep our continent safe.


    I would be heading out soon to meet with Cylrit regarding matters of Spellsong¡¯s healing and the ominous letter Cylrit had delivered with Vanesy. The implications regarding a filled cup were not lost on me.


    The golden crown on my head suddenly felt ten times heavier.


    ¡°I do need to have a talk with my sister,¡± I said, exhaling a world-weary sigh. ¡°Do you have any tips, Kath? How did you convince Curtis not to try and challenge me to a duel for the throne?¡±


    Kath¡¯s lips shifted into the barest approximation of a frown. ¡°Siblings are complicated things,¡± she said. ¡°Your sister struggles to adjust to her new title as princess. I would advise against dismissing her difficulties.¡±


    I closed my eyes, feeling guilt seep through my veins. Already, Ellie struggled to live a normal childhood. I could not imagine this would make it any easier for the thirteen-year-old girl.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t plan to, but your advice is always valuable.¡±


    The former princess curtsied again, lowering her head so her dark bangs shadowed her expression. ¡°Of course, King Leywin.¡±


    She excused herself with grace, flowing back into the castle.


    Now it was only me, Ellie, Boo, and a looming ghost.


    I walked forward out onto the large, grassy expanse of the balcony, my eyes tracing the many clouds. Boo grunted slightly as he saw me, but the massive bear didn¡¯t acknowledge me in any other way. The end-of-summer breeze was warm despite how high we were in the clouds.


    A banister stretched all around the garden, preventing anyone from falling to an untimely end into the Beast Glades far below. Hovering just beyond the stretch of the bannister, half a dozen targets floated with wind artifacts. Solid arrows stuck out of a few of them, before vanishing into yellow particles as Ellie''s control faltered.


    My little sister didn¡¯t turn to look at me as I stood beside her. Instead, she continued to fire arrows continuously at the targets. Faster and faster she went, sweat beading along her face and making her ash-brown hair cling to her neck.


    ¡°Ellie,¡± I said.


    My sister ignored me, her arms trembling as they continued to pull back her bow. I exhaled through my nose, recognizing that she needed this bit of time to vent.


    She moved as if in a rhythm. Each thunk of an arrow resounded louder than the last as she pulled, aimed, then released her arrows of pure mana in a mechanical precision. I could see the countless calluses on her fingers, the skin worn and bruised from endless practice.


    But she was straining now. Her arms shook ever so slightly with each released arrow, and I could sense the exhaustion in her core.


    So when her next shot finally flew, I knew it went too wide. The yellowish mana arrow surged with untold speed, but it would miss the target by a mile.


    Except a simple twist of wind magic pushed the target to the side, directly into the path of the arrow. It thunked as it landed solidly in the bull¡¯s-eye.


    Ellie groaned in annoyance, stomping her foot. She turned to me, glaring upward. ¡°Don¡¯t you have something else to do?!¡± she hissed. ¡°Not interrupting my training?¡±


    ¡°I finally got the free time to talk to you,¡± I responded. ¡°I just¡­ wanted to see how you were doing.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m fine,¡± she snapped, turning back to the targets and ignoring me. Her hands clenched around her bow. ¡°You can go back to being King or whatever.¡±


    I sighed, closing my eyes. Her words sent sharp pangs of pain through me, each piercing my core like a needle. ¡°Please, El,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t have much time. I¡­ can¡¯t afford to stay for long.¡±


    Soon, I¡¯d need to attend that meeting with Cylrit. Then I¡¯d need to parlay with him for however long. And after that? Who knew when this war would let me speak with my baby sister?


    ¡°So you can talk to me, then?¡± she snapped, firing another arrow. It barely hit the edge of the target. ¡°Mom and Dad have been angry, too. And you won¡¯t talk to them. But here you are with me. That doesn¡¯t seem really kingly.¡±


    Out of the edges of my eyes, King Grey¡¯s eyes darkened.


    I wished Sylv was here. She¡¯d know what to say, but she¡¯d been tracking leads on the Rogue Hero through the northeastern reaches of Sapin. I¡¯d repositioned my parents from the active warfront, confining them in Xyrus so as to keep them from being war hostages or targets.


    I knew that made them angry. I knew the damage it did. But I could do nothing else.


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to them when I can,¡± I promised with a world-weary sigh. ¡°I need to. But I¡¯m not here to talk about Mom and Dad.¡±


    I conjured a little chair of earth, leaning back into it as I let my legs rest for a time. I stared at the targets as Ellie continued to fire arrows alongside the endless sea of clouds beyond her.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been fine,¡± Ellie lied. ¡°Just lots of people fawning over me. Treating me like a princess or something. All this ¡®Princess Leywin¡¯ this and ¡®Princess Leywin¡¯ that. Nobody will just treat me normally anymore. And that¡¯s all your fault.¡±


    I closed my eyes, exhaling a sigh. If before I wished Sylv could be here, now I wished for Tess. Ellie had told me once that she used to hate me for how I made her life difficult. Made it different. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, El,¡± I said. ¡°I know it isn¡¯t easy¨C¡±


    ¡°Kath helps,¡± Ellie interrupted, firing a few more arrows. ¡°She knows what to say. How to be some sort of ¡®princess.¡¯ But now I¡¯m even more alone than before. Nobody talks to me unless they want something.¡±


    Ellie continued to talk, rambling now. As if all of the pent-up emotion was finally reaching a crescendo as it burst. ¡°Kath told me that you didn¡¯t really have a choice in your King thing. That it was either my brother put on some stupid crown or we get driven to extinction or whatever. But it¡¯s just easier to blame you. But now I don¡¯t even know what you are! My brother? My king? Or what?¡±


    Ellie¡¯s face had become red as a tomato as her hands shook. Every single arrow she¡¯d fired had missed wildly. She finally threw her bow down with a huff of disgust and anger.


    ¡°I can tell you why,¡± I forced out. ¡°Why I had to be King. But also why I¡¯m still your brother.¡±


    Ellie huffed for a time, her sweat-slick, ash-brown hair clinging to her face. She heaved from exhaustion, before she finally looked at me again.


    Her eyes¡ªthe same shade as my mother¡¯s¡ªwere scared, slightly. Uncertain. ¡°It¡¯s about what you told Mom and Dad before you left,¡± she said weakly. ¡°That¡¯s what this is all about. They wouldn¡¯t be so angry about it otherwise.¡±


    I sank a bit deeper into my earthen chair, nodding slowly. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than I was when I was your age,¡± I said with wry amusement. ¡°I should¡¯ve known you¡¯d started putting it together.¡±


    Ellie averted her eyes slightly. ¡°When you were my age, you were going off to train with gods. And teaching classes at Xyrus. And giving Inventor Gideon a whole lot of tech.¡± She kicked a nearby pebble weakly. ¡°I¡¯m not really anything special in comparison.¡±


    I opened my mouth, closed it, then sighed. It was the kind of sigh that Marlorn always did when we talked about the catastrophic losses of life. That Gramps did whenever the war pulled deeper on his shoulders and psyche.


    ¡°Well, when I was thirteen,¡± I said slowly, carefully choosing every word, ¡°I was scrounging about in dark alleyways, robbing rich couples, and then giving the proceeds of my thievery to the orphanage that raised me. I think you¡¯re doing pretty well.¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Ellie turned back to me, blinking in confusion. ¡°But that¡¯s not true,¡± she said, seeming more confused than angry now. ¡°You were never in an orphanage. You always had Mom and Dad.¡±


    A real great impression she has of you, Arthur, I thought with mirth, That she doesn¡¯t think robbing rich couples and scrounging in alleyways is out of character.


    I remembered deep down how Alice and Reynolds had reacted to my greatest secret. I¡¯d seen it as a moral duty to tell them before I left. I couldn¡¯t leave them out of such a crucial part of my being, but I¡¯d shattered our relationship in the process. And even now, with my parents confined to Xyrus on my covert orders, I wondered if it would ever be repaired.


    I¡¯d vowed after that to never tell another soul. But Tessia had learned of it. And she hadn¡¯t¡­


    ¡°In this life, I had a family to love and cherish,¡± I said honestly, leaning forward and clasping my hands together. ¡°But I wasn¡¯t always Arthur Leywin, son of Alice and Reynolds Leywin. Once upon a time, I was Grey. Street rat and all around nobody.¡±


    Ellie listened as I slowly told her a bit about my past life. Her jaw dropped as I spoke, and I couldn¡¯t tell from what emotion. But I continued anyways, telling her about my stint as King. How lonely I¡¯d been. How empty of purpose or will I¡¯d eventually become.


    Time seemed to stretch as I rambled in turn, my eyes clouding over as I stared at the cloudless expanse. My mouth felt dry when I finished.


    ¡°So¡­ you weren¡¯t just super good at everything,¡± Ellie finally said. ¡°I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°I was never some super genius, El,¡± I admitted, not looking at her. ¡°The only thing really special about me was my sword arm, you know.¡±


    My little sister was silent for a time, joining me in my observation of the sky. ¡°Does this mean you aren¡¯t my brother?¡± she said after a moment. ¡°I mean, if you¡¯re from some sort of other¨C¡±


    ¡°No, Ellie,¡± I interrupted, standing from my chair. I laid a hand on my baby sister¡¯s shoulder, pulling her so she could look me in the eye. ¡°No, this only makes you more my sister. I know what it¡¯s like to lose everything. It makes everything I have that much more important.¡±


    Ellie sniffled. I wasn¡¯t certain if my words had any effect, but she didn¡¯t push me away. Boo grumbled a ways away, staring down at us.


    ¡°But you were never a princess,¡± she muttered, staring down at the ground.


    ¡°I mean¡­ no. I wasn¡¯t ever a princess,¡± I said, confused.


    My little sister looked up at me, the strangest smile on her face. I blinked in surprise as she hugged me hard, her sweat-drenched form clinging to me like a baby koala.


    I felt a lump rise in my throat as I hugged her back, my arms feeling loose and boneless. ¡°You¡¯re okay, right?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t change anything,¡± Ellie muttered, her face burying into my chest. She¡¯d gotten really tall somehow. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t really get why it would.¡±


    I chuckled humorlessly. ¡°Maybe one day you¡¯ll get why.¡± S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My sister pushed away from me, pouting as she glared at me. ¡°And now you¡¯re treating me as a little kid again.¡±


    I raised a hand, nervously scratching at the back of my neck. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, El. It¡¯s a¡­ bad habit of mine. Tess really laid into me about it.¡±


    Tess had laid into me about it, and in great detail. My childhood friend had seemingly kept a list of every time that I¡¯d treated her like a child. And no amount of apologizing had really fixed that.


    I talked a bit more with my sister, explaining details about my old world and why I did the things I did. I almost didn¡¯t notice when King Grey¡¯s phantom form misted away, so engrossed was I in our talk.


    ¡°So everyone just had mana in your old world?¡± she asked, leaning in a conjured chair of earth herself. ¡°That seems really weird. I can¡¯t imagine everyone being a mage.¡±


    ¡°Well, not mana, but ki,¡± I corrected. ¡°Ki was kind of like pure mana. There was no ambient ki floating about the atmosphere.¡±


    To emphasize my point, I flexed my core, and a little tornado appeared from my palm from ambient mana. With barely another twist, the whirlwind was rimmed with burning orange flames. The aether in the air gravitated toward the spell, enhancing the tiny whirlwind with hints of purple.


    For a second, I found myself entranced by the aether as it wove in and between and around my mana. It was almost as if the aether wanted to make my spell more powerful.


    Sylvie says that the dragons don¡¯t manipulate aether. They influence it, I thought, staring at those purple particles as they meshed and danced. But even though I rely on our bond to influence aether, it¡¯s almost like the energy is already waiting for what I wish before I even desire it.


    Influencing aether felt like trying to force someone else¡¯s muscles to tense. When I made my commands for space to bend or for the energy to travel across my spells and bolster them, the aether rushed to my call. But it was¡­ lacking in some way.


    I¡¯m getting even better at this, I internally acknowledged. Meditating with my manaborne forms really has increased my insight.


    The little fire whirlwind zipped up into the sky, drawing Ellie¡¯s awed eyes as it twirled. And then, when it went a bit higher, the fire whirlwind changed. It grew four muscular legs. Two majestic wings. And a maw with glimmering teeth.


    A tiny dragon of fire and wind belched its fury into the air, before dissipating with a sudden pop. Ellie blinked.


    ¡°And we were called ki practitioners, not mages,¡± I corrected smugly.


    ¡°If there was no ambient mana,¡± Ellie said absently, ¡°then that would make ki practitioners¡­ like me.¡±


    I blinked in surprise, amazed I hadn¡¯t seen the connection before. Ellie hadn¡¯t manifested an element like most mages did, meaning she was limited to the pure mana she could draw directly from her core. And considering she was a conjurer, this was normally a detriment.


    ¡°Ellie,¡± I said excitedly, grasping her shoulders. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what they were like! Which means I might be able to help you get even better at this!¡± I said, gesturing with my head to the targets she¡¯d been shooting at. ¡°Everyone else is teaching you like a mana-wielding mage. But you aren¡¯t one. Not in the conventional sense. If you were to learn like a ki practitioner¡­¡±


    For a second, my sister¡¯s eyes lit up like stars as she considered the possibility. Then she visibly hesitated.


    ¡°But¡­ I want to learn this on my own,¡± she said, turning away and crossing her arms. ¡°I can¡¯t just rely on you for everything, brother. It¡¯s¡­ I want to be me, not the little sister of the King. Or of the Lance. Or the quadra-elemental mage.¡±


    I slowly pulled my arms away, feeling a bit guilty. ¡°I understand,¡± I said after a minute of silence. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°You said you learned from books first?¡± my sister inquired. ¡°All on your own when you were Grey? You just¡­ read books to learn about all this?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± I said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of my neck as I smiled wryly. ¡°My instructors would teach me utter trash, and then I¡¯d go home and remove all their teachings from my head through better training I¡¯d found in books. Why do you ask?¡±


    I looked back down at my sister, who was turned away from me slightly as a flush worked up her cheeks. ¡°Well, if I had a book that explained it all, then I¡¯m just¡­ doing what you did, right?¡±


    I coughed in surprise, about to open my mouth to respond, when a flaring mana signature and harsh steps caught my attention.


    On instinct, I shifted in front of Ellie, putting myself between the approaching mana signature. The person shoved open the balcony doors, rushing toward me with a worried expression on their face.


    Kathyln Glayder rushed toward me as if winter itself were nipping at her heels. The serene princess¡¯ normally doll-like expression was morphed into an uncertain frown as she skated across the grass. Her hands were clenched as she hastily curtsied. ¡°Your Majesty,¡± she said quickly. ¡°An unforeseen problem has¨C¡±


    ¡°Leywin!¡± a familiar voice boomed with crackling thunder. The air itself took on an electric charge as someone approached with earth-shaking steps. ¡°Explain yourself!¡±


    Bairon marched from the balcony, lightning crackling between his fingertips. His aura swelled like a storm, washing over the air like an approaching cloud. His close-cropped pale hair jumped and sparked with his power, his teeth set into a snarl.


    I stepped in front of Kathyln before the Lance¡¯s aura could hit her, shielding both the former princess and my sister from it with a flex of my own mana. King Grey slowly fuzzed back into existence behind the mad Lance as Ellie left my field of view.


    But I could still sense her trembling in fear, even as Boo moved to cover her with a fearful croon.


    Bairon stopped when he saw me, his face set in a scowl. ¡°I demand that you explain your actions, boy. For daring to impose on House Wykes!¡±


    I stepped forward, letting my aura expand as it clashed against the Lance¡¯s. ¡°I have no need to explain anything to you, Bairon,¡± I said coldly. ¡®You are a Lance. I am your monarch. To assume that I have any sort of duty to¨C¡°


    ¡°Quiet, boy!¡± Bairon interrupted, marching closer as his aura seethed. ¡°I heard what you did from my father! Selling off our trade routes¡ªones we¡¯ve held the rights to for generations¡ªto the Flamesworth House? It is a disgrace beyond your station,¡± he sneered.


    ¡°The contracts for each trade route rest in the hands of Sapin¡¯s leaders,¡± I said coolly, dismissing the raging man¡¯s anger. ¡°It is up to the crown to redistribute them once their tenure ends. And when one House disobeys stated law, they cannot expect consequences to simply avoid them.¡±


    And in truth, I would have liked to do more. The trade routes in question edged along the northern rims of the Grand Mountains, and some cursory investigation revealed that House Wykes had been using the covert mountain passes to sneak into Elshire Forest for the purposes of interracial slaving.


    That¡¯s probably how Lucas came about, I thought, matching Bairon¡¯s eyes. ¡°House Wykes made several critical mistakes that hampered the war effort, Lance Thunderlord. Do not expect your noble status to shelter your family from the consequences of their actions any longer. Times have changed.¡±


    ¡°Times have changed? And you get to decide that, why? Because you usurped a throne?¡± Bairon¡¯s aura swelled as his nostrils flared, his pupils dilating into pinpricks. ¡°Convenient for you that the elf Commander just went up and collapsed,¡± he seethed. I could see the lightning mana crackling along his nerves as it enhanced his reflexes in preparation for a fight. ¡°It all fits too neatly, you scheming rat. Born in Elshire. Bedding their princess. In cahoots with their Commander. And now suddenly an attack happens that just gives you power.¡±


    The Lance took a threatening step forward, goading me. ¡°You always knew too much about the Alacryans, boy. Uto was only talkative around you, and only behind closed doors. And then Alea dropped by Xyrus to talk to you before her final assault, didn¡¯t she? And then she was found¨C¡±


    ¡°You think you want to fight me, Lance. But you do not want this. It will not end how you think,¡± I interrupted, my anger rising. Boiling to the surface. ¡°Do not think that position can shield you¡ªor your family¡ªforever if you continue to make¡­ unwise insinuations.¡±


    Bairon scoffed. ¡°And you think your title as ¡®King¡¯ can shield yours¨C¡±


    I was already moving, mana thrumming across my limbs. A barrier of earth erected itself behind me as I engaged earthborne, sheltering Kathyln, Ellie, and Boo from what was about to happen.


    Slowed as I was by the craggy effects of this form, Bairon actually had a chance to react. He erupted with lightning as he called down a bolt from a thundercloud that had been forming on high. After that, he started to fly backward, attempting to gain some distance.


    The electricity struck me, but the absurd defensive abilities of my form shrugged off most of it. Little ionized bits of mana pinged and crackled around me.


    And then I was fireborne. I snarled, building up a burst of mana along my body, before I erupted upward in a conflagration of Piston Stamp. Wind magic made me little less than a blur as I seared toward the airborne Lance.


    Enhanced as he was by Thunderclap Impulse, though, Bairon had a chance to respond. His eyes glowed as he waved an arm, lighting traveling like a net toward me as it sought to catch me in my blur.


    His mistake.


    The aether bent and twisted in front of me, and suddenly I was just past the Lance. I swung my arm down in a vertical chop, a gauntlet of stone encasing my fiery fist.


    The Lance was already twisting to try and react, but not fast enough. My chop cratered his shoulder, a boom echoing out as I followed through.


    Bairon shot toward the ground, his lightning winking out from the force of my blow. He smashed into the soft soil with a cacophonous boom, electricity sputtering and dancing over the once-green grass and charring it black.


    I landed a moment later, letting my manaborne form drift away as I marched forward. In my fireborne form, I was exceptionally resistant to flames and their deviants, so I bore little to no injuries from the short scuffle. Still, a few lightning burns marred the surface of my skin as I stalked toward the downed Lance.


    Bairon was growling, struggling to stand. Before he could, however, chains of earth erupted from the ground, cinching around his wrists and forcing him back down. I held out my hand, summoning Dawn¡¯s Ballad as Grey drew me onward.


    This man had threatened my family. He had isinuated that I had orchestrated the attack on Virion Eralith; that I had led Uto to Lance Alea. My mana billowed around me like a storm as it slammed into the rogue white core mage, and for once, I thought he saw an iota of what I truly was.


    My emotions began to bleed away as I pressed my boot against Bairon¡¯s chest, then slammed him back into the dirt. Lightning skittered over my body, but it couldn¡¯t pierce my shroud.


    The tip of Dawn¡¯s Ballad pressed into Bairon¡¯s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. And finally, the man stilled as he seemed to recognize what position he was in.


    The world went still. The phantom ghost of King Grey stood at my shoulder. He compelled me to kill the man beneath my boot. To end a threat to everything I cared for.


    I stared down into Bairon¡¯s eyes, weighing the value of his life. I could simply pull on the tether between us and crush his heart. I could think of countless mages more suitable to the position of Lance, too. Most would not match the power of the lightning mage, but they would be more amenable to my kingship.


    ¡°Foolish lessers,¡± a familiar voice uttered caustically. ¡°Keep your petty squabbles to yourself.¡±


    I turned my eyes to the side, noting as a certain asura stalked onto the balcony, winged red spear in hand. ¡°Taci Thyestes,¡± I said with frigid apathy. ¡°Discipline was necessary, though it seems we¡¯ve interrupted your meditation.¡±


    Taci paused in his steps abruptly as he stared into my eyes, his olive-green ones blinking. ¡°More pantheon than man,¡± he said, echoing the words of his master long past. ¡°I see it now.¡±


    That snapped me from my thoughts. I stepped off the restrained Lance, keeping Dawn¡¯s Ballad summoned but not poised.


    King Arthur, I reminded myself. Not King Grey.


    I would not rule through tyranny and bloodshed. Killing a Lance so simply would set the precedent of my previous life of fear and terror. It would undo all that I¡¯d tried to accomplish.


    Bairon snarled as he pushed himself weakly to his hands and knees. ¡°He knows about the Alacryans¡¯ plans,¡± he wheezed, looking at Taci. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense how much he knows. How much he¡¯s maneuvered everything.¡±


    Taci¡¯s eyes¡ªwhich were starting to darken toward beetle-black¡ªnarrowed. The war paint beneath them made him look all the more intimidating. ¡°You imply that King Leywin is in league with the enemy, lesser?¡±


    Bairon didn¡¯t respond, still struggling to stand.


    Taci¡¯s attention flicked to the dome of earth still protecting Kath and Ellie, then back to the Lance. He scoffed. ¡°The lesser king cares too much for your measly, worthless lives to barter with Agrona Vritra. If he let go of that attachment, he¡¯d have already won.¡±


    Ellie didn¡¯t see me like this, I reaffirmed myself, letting out a breath. She didn¡¯t see the weapon.


    ¡°Keep Otis Wykes in line, Bairon,¡± I said, my nerves finally cooling as the Lance stumbled to his feet. ¡°You are a Lance of Dicathen. I serve not myself, but my continent. I will let your comments slide just this once out of respect for the service your family has kept to the crown of Sapin for centuries. I understand that the execution of your brother¡ªdeserved as it was¡ªhas unbalanced your reason. But I will not tolerate this again.¡±


    I gave Taci a second chance. I could not deny Bairon his.


    ¡°We are not at war with each other,¡± I stressed, the fire in my blood settling slightly. ¡°The Alacryans are the ones that kill our people and enslave every race. If you want someone to blame, then blame them.¡±


    The Lance¡¯s mana crackled as he gnashed his teeth, sending a look so hateful back toward me¡ªtoward the bubble shielding Ellie¡ªthat I felt a burgeoning mote of Grey return. Should I simply run Dawn¡¯s Ballad through his chest? Be done with it?


    But before I could act on that thought, the Wykes turned, hobbling toward the exit of the balcony.


    I turned my attention back to Taci, still feeling Grey¡¯s presence just behind my shoulder. ¡°Your assistance was unneeded, but I thank you nonetheless,¡± I said to the young pantheon, letting the barrier around Ellie and Kath fall. The former clung to Boo, while the latter trembled silently as she tried to keep to herself.


    I turned toward them, ready to assure them of their safety. I would still order heightened security around my parents, though, and greater observation of the Wykes household. The way Bairon had threatened my family¡­


    ¡°You have the makings of a great warrior, lesser Leywin,¡± Taci interrupted, stepping forward. ¡°You do not embrace the weapon within. I demand to know why.¡±


    I turned, looking at the young pantheon warrior. In him, I saw a strange mirror of the Lance I had just sent away.


    Taci and I trained together often. Though I left each sparring session sporting wounds that would leave most mages bedridden for months or permanently crippled at worst, I never stopped my sparring. Sylvie would heal me, her brows furrowed and worried as she commented on my willingness to let myself be hurt.


    But both Taci and I had grown in our martial abilities in each sparring match. We used each other like whetstones, honing our technique and skill in every clash.


    ¡°That way leads to only emptiness,¡± I replied. ¡°I traveled it once, Taci, that pantheon mindset you hold so highly. In another life. But in the end, being a weapon leaves nothing.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what a Yaksha is, lesser Leywin?¡± Taci asked instead, his tattoos seeming somehow darker despite the sun. ¡°You trained with more than just me inside the Aether Orb. So surely you must know. And because you must, then you must understand how foolish your words are.¡±


    I restrained my annoyance at the young pantheon¡¯s condescending tone. ¡°Kordri never told me much besides the forms I was learning,¡± I responded, intrigued despite myself. ¡°Unless you forget, I was never even told the names of our sparring partners. Only yours.¡±


    Taci¡¯s nostrils flared, and the grip on his spear tightened. ¡°Because they were burgeoning Yaksha. The Wandering Warriors, the nameless blades. They cast aside their birth names before entering the aether orb, before sparring with¡­ you. Because poorly forged weapons are undeserving of names. Undeserving of recognition, undeserving of emotions. Only once they had left on their Journeys, honing themselves through a hundred Trials, would they have earned the right to a new Name, as all great weapons are honored.¡±


    Something in my blood chilled down to my very heart. I traced the path of Taci¡¯s implications, saw what he was trying to say. ¡±But you did not sacrifice your name,¡± I countered, turning away. ¡°You have not sacrificed your emotions. Because that was not your path within the Aether Orb.¡±


    ¡°You still pretend not to understand, Lesser King,¡± Taci snapped, irritable. ¡°My peers travel the path of the Yaksha, forging their names, and I am here. I would have led armies, would have commanded legions of your petty kind, all to become steel. But you have stripped my purpose from me, Leywin. And you will return something to me for the disrespect.¡±


    The boy who sought to outstrip all his peers, I thought. Though Taci¡¯s aura was oppressive and cruel, I could only feel pity in my soul. And he goes so far to strip himself of his personhood.


    ¡°I can teach you everything about what it means to lead armies. Strategy, troop movement, how to command the battlefield like a general. I can show you methods not even known to your masters because they come from a world away,¡± I whispered.


    Memories of feeding that black, Greying wave within me resurfaced, like a bloated corpse bobbing to the surface of a bog. That moment when Vera had uttered the words to make me crack, like a stone sculpture struck one too many times.


    And the cracks had yawned so very deep, consuming all. Anger had disappeared into the deep. So too had sorrow. It didn¡¯t hurt anymore when I¡¯d thrown it all away, and what I would have given to only stop there. What I would have given to live in eternal, unending bliss, empty of my guilt and misery.


    But what was joy without sadness? How could light be known without the dark? Happiness and hope could not exist without the pain. So they had to be devoured, too, leaving me an empty husk of a person, fraying at every edge.


    I looked Taci in the eyes, and I knew he saw my pity. Yet I could not change the truth.


    ¡°But I will never teach another how to break themselves.¡±

 Chapter 272: Negotiations in Fire

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    My footsteps didn¡¯t echo as I walked toward the flying castle¡¯s teleportation gates. My body felt strangely light as I ran through the conversations not half an hour ago.


    But right now, I had more pressing duties. I would meet with Cylrit soon¨Cin secret and in silence. The potential for Virion¡¯s healing was too great to pass up.


    And Seris knows something more of the Legacy, I thought, grinding my teeth as I walked through the halls. Servants bowed and curtsied as I passed, maintaining my air of casual regality as I strode. Agrona plans to use Tess somehow, but I don¡¯t understand how.


    Maybe I could wrangle that information from Cylrit as part of our negotiations, but I didn¡¯t become king by thinking optimistically.


    My march stopped, however, as I felt a familiar presence approaching. One that I¡¯d been on the lookout for what felt like an age.


    I didn¡¯t acknowledge it, continuing in my slow stride as I gave an air of disinterest. This continued for a time as that presence followed me weakly, struggling to keep up with my steady march.


    Before finally, it scoffed in annoyance. ¡°You can stop in your kingly antics of making me wait, Arthur,¡± Elder Rinia croaked, ¡°neither of us has time in this world for such immaturity.¡±


    I stopped in the hallway, forcing the mage following me to do so as well. Then I slowly turned, noting the empty passageway as I did so. Devoid entirely of listening ears or watching eyes. That had to be intentional on her part.


    ¡°You¡¯re dressed spiffily today,¡± Rinia said, looking me up and down. ¡°Makes me wonder what¡¯s got you marching as if you¡¯re going to battle.¡±


    Indeed, I was. Silver gauntlets and greaves protected my extremities, the golden runes etched over them glowing protectively. A light layer of inscribed chainmail protected my torso and upper legs while still allowing me freedom of movement. And atop it all, a fur mantle completed the regal look.


    I looked down at her with a cool expression, measuring my words. ¡°A king must always be ready for threats to his person,¡± I responded sternly. My eyes flicked to Rinia¡¯s empty shoulder. ¡°Avier is usually with you whenever you corner me in dark, secluded hallways and give me dire information, but I don¡¯t see him right now.¡±


    The elf groaned slightly as she shifted, appearing as if a stiff breeze could knock her over. Her scraggly gray hair clung to her skin. ¡°He¡¯s off doing something for me,¡± she said, her old bones creaking. ¡°He¡¯ll be back eventually.¡±


    The old elf seer had an uncanny ability to slip through nearly every encirclement around her. When I¡¯d first been elevated to king, she had hovered by my side, whispering words of advice and counsel into my ear. But then she vanished just as quickly, appearing within and without the castle like a phantom. Even Taci¡ªwho had been strangely focused on the decrepit elf¡ªhadn¡¯t been able to keep track of her.


    I hadn¡¯t yet resorted to outright detainment of the seer because I knew that such attempts would only fail and further strain relationships. But as the weight of this continent¡¯s future settled onto my shoulders, I¡¯d recognized that Elder Rinia functioned as a dangerous variable.


    ¡°What grave and important piece of misinformation do you have for me today, Rinia?¡± I asked, staring down at her with my hands locked behind my back. ¡°I have a meeting to get to.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, yes,¡± Rinia said, taking my obvious brusqueness in stride. ¡°The talk with the Retainer. That is important. But I don¡¯t have information for you today; just advice.¡±


    ¡°Information would serve this continent better,¡± I argued back, narrowing my eyes as I looked down at the elf. ¡°Though I¡¯m grateful for your help in freeing Sylvie from her father¡¯s control, that doesn¡¯t change the fact that you knew that spell was there. Nor the fact that you guided me into an unneeded conflict with Spellsong.¡±


    ¡°But it was needed,¡± Rinia said with a world-weary sigh. ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t see it now, Arthur, but that fight of yours with Toren Daen was necessary if you want this war to end in any way suitable for the people of Dicathen.¡±


    ¡°And yet you do not tell me why, Rinia,¡± I countered. ¡°War is won and lost on information. You speak of the futures you are trying to bring about, but my responsibility is to the people of Dicathen. I cannot risk all those lives on riddles and hearsay from someone who won¡¯t tell me the full story.¡±


    Rinia tilted her head, leaning on her cane as she smiled up at me. ¡°Keep that motivation close to your heart, King Arthur, and Dicathen will have a future.¡±


    I scoffed, feeling increasingly annoyed. ¡°And I suppose I¡¯ll think of this exact moment when I need a sudden emotional epiphany to win against my enemies?¡±


    Rinia chortled slightly, unaffected. ¡°No, nothing so grand this time, King Arthur. I¡¯m not quite the Merlin you think I am, manipulating the board like a politician or warmonger. That was simply an old woman¡¯s advice. Maybe you¡¯ll stop seeing that ghost one day, too.¡±


    My mind flashed back to my conversation earlier in the day, where the phantom of my past had sizzled away as I¡¯d spoken with Ellie.


    I turned, feeling more than ready to leave this conversation behind. ¡°Then tell me what you came here to say.¡±


    Rinia tapped her cane on the floor. ¡°Very well then, impatient boy. Many years ago, I told you that the most dangerous enemy isn¡¯t the one on the throne leading the forces, but the soldier with nothing to lose.¡±


    The diviner¡ªwithered and shrunken like a tree root that had been deprived of water¡ªshuddered slightly. ¡°The futures I¡¯ve seen have changed since I last said those words to you, but they¡¯re still true. Keep that in mind.¡±


    Despite myself, I found myself contemplating her words from as many angles as I could.


    I¡¯d studied symbology in my previous life, and prophecies were a large part of that. The characters involved almost always honed in on one interpretation, losing sight of every other hint that led to another outcome.


    Some gut instinct in me told me that this was similar. There was a twist to this that I didn¡¯t quite understand.


    Who is the enemy on the throne?


    ¡°Is this a warning for Dicathen,¡± I finally asked, ¡°or Alacrya?¡±


    Rinia simply smiled.


    ¡ª


    I had improved even further on Mirage Walk since the manifestation of my acclorite. The technique involved drawing the ambient mana in at the same time you expelled some as well, creating an effect in the world around you that masked your mana usage. It was an expert skill, worthy of the pantheon¡¯s designation of a secret technique. With the correct usage, an enemy would never even sense my mana signature as I approached. I was a wraith on the wind.


    But with my constant vision of all four elements in the air, I¡¯d been able to detect inefficiencies in my utilization of it. There were patterns that fire, water, earth, and wind played in the atmosphere. The way orange fire mana drifted high as the sunlight beckoned it. How water mana rippled around with moisture and clouds in a slow churn. How earth mana rolled across the stones like boulders down a hill, and wind mana danced in little eddies.


    If I wanted to be truly invisible to even the greatest of mana senses, I couldn¡¯t just press my mana into the atmosphere after absorbing it. I needed to smooth out my presence in the aftermath, ensuring that nobody would ever catch a fleeting trace of me before I was already gone.


    And as I slowly flew through the light forest many miles south of Blackbend, I focused on keeping myself as less than a ghost. Pull the mana in with mana rotation, expel it and weave it in its natural state.


    It was easier to do than I¡¯d expected. By spending so much time in my manaborne forms, the diffused insight into how each aspect of mana affected the world had become almost a part of my body.


    I reached the agreed-upon meeting ground easily enough. Beyond the edge of the treeline, I could make out the gap in the forest.


    A serene, peaceful lake glimmered with reflected sunlight not far away. There was a boulder at the center of the lake that thrust upward like a fist, denying the water perfection. A simple dock with a sunken canoe stretched out into the water, but the wood was clearly rotten and stale from disrepair. There was a slight hill at the far edge with overgrown grass that led to an overgrown, decrepit cabin.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I slowly walked around the edge of the forest, inching my way toward the cabin. I kept Mirage Walk active as my boots pressed into the soft grass.


    But even as I walked toward that overgrown cabin, I found my attention drifting to the scenic nature of the chosen meeting ground. The way the birds chirped and animals rustled through the underbrush had an almost supernatural calming effect on me despite my mission.


    A cabin in the woods, I thought, letting myself imagine it for a moment. We could have a small little home like this. Just me and my family, whenever this war is done. And¡­ maybe Tess, too. And whoever else happens to join us along the way.


    It was a nice dream. It was the dream that soothed the aches of my nightmares when I slept, reminding me that there would be an aftermath to this. That I had a future worth fighting for.


    Maybe, when all this was done and the war was over, I could put down the crown on my head. Maybe Virion could take it up. Maybe the Council could run on its own again. Or something.


    But the idea of something nice and simple with those I loved¡­


    That dream receded as I finally reached the fishing cabin¡¯s porch. I walked up the rickety steps, feeling them creak beneath my weight as the decrepit wood strained.


    I walked forward quietly, seeing my target. Cylrit was staring out at the lake, a strange expression on his face. His dark hair shifted slightly in the breeze as I moved to stand beside him, turning my azure eyes back to the ever-still water.


    The Retainer didn¡¯t say anything to acknowledge my presence. I might have thought it some sort of powerplay, as I had done with Rinia. It would force me to speak up first and initiate the conversation, granting Cylrit the power in each back and forth.


    But there was something about the way the Retainer held himself in his silence that told me there was more to whatever introspection plagued his thoughts.


    A sparrow alighted upon that central rock, flapping its dark wings as it held a wriggling worm in its beak. Belatedly, I realized that there was a nest nestled in the crooks of that rock. Two chicks stretched their mouths up toward the mother bird.


    ¡°My master expected the Dicathian resistance to fail in the aftermath of Virion Eralith¡¯s fall,¡± he finally said, his deep baritone surprisingly quiet as he kept an indoor voice. ¡°She commends you on your ascension, and on your plays in this war.¡±


    ¡°You might not believe me, Cylrit,¡± I replied dryly, ¡°but this isn¡¯t my first war. Seris has made things exceedingly difficult, despite her well wishes.¡±


    A smile ghosted across the Retainer¡¯s features before it vanished in a blink. He turned away from the scene of the mother bird, looking at me with calculating blood-red eyes. ¡°Tales of your exploits in that other world are known, King Arthur,¡± he finally said. ¡°But that isn¡¯t the topic of today¡¯s meeting. I do not see Retainer Mawar with you.¡±


    I snorted lightly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bring our prisoner preemptively, Cylrit. That would be foolish. We¡¯ve got to work out another deal first. I need assurances. And on that end, I wonder if Seris is treating this meeting with its due severity.¡±


    I let my eyes travel around us, emphasizing how alone we were. ¡°I am the Commander of the Triunion forces, while you are Retainer. Meeting with a representative tells me she doesn¡¯t understand the position I carry.¡±


    Seris Vritra had met with Virion Eralith in our previous exchange of prisoners. Though I doubted she truly thought me lesser in station than Virion, it was still common courtesy to show respect to those of fellow rank and station.


    ¡°She is Scythe Seris Vritra, King Leywin,¡± Cylrit replied with an unheated huff. ¡°Her titles are as core as her name. Do not disrespect her by saying her name so flippantly.¡±


    ¡°If she has an issue with my words, she can bring them to me herself.¡±


    Cylrit narrowed his eyes as he stared down at me. ¡°My master has many, many eyes on her,¡± he said, a bit of fire rising in undertones. ¡°Eyes that should not be drawn to this conversation.¡±


    I nodded slowly, catching his meaning. Virion had told me of his interpretation of Seris Vritra¡¯s message to him at their meeting, where he suspected she had made allusions to her position as one akin to the Lances bound by their monarchs.


    ¡°My master is generous,¡± Cylrit said, withdrawing a letter from his cloak. ¡°She has a preliminary offer already prepared, one that befits your current stance in this war.¡±


    He held the letter out impassively, the white page contrasted by his dark armor. I raised my gauntleted hand, grasping the letter. Preemptively, I swept over it with my mana senses, checking for some sort of trap.


    When I found none, I broke the red wax seal, before withdrawing the contents.


    My eyes flicked over the neatly inked lines, feeling slightly disconcerted. They were written in earthen script.


    I shook my head as I reached the end, looking up at Cylrit with iron in my gaze. ¡°The last condition of this agreement is unacceptable,¡± I said simply, folding the letter again and not showing any emotion. ¡°If this is all Seris can offer with her earlier suggestions, then I¡¯m disappointed. If you want to keep a cup from being filled, you don¡¯t send it to the one who dispenses drinks in the first place.¡±


    Indeed, the proposed offer was simple. Virion Eralith would be healed by Spellsong at the same time that Mawar would be released to Seris Vritra. The offer proposed these two things happen at the same time, but there was one clause that was unacceptable.


    Tessia Eralith would be presented to Seris Vritra as hostage. Prisoner.


    Seris knows I can¡¯t accept the last clause, I thought, offering the letter back to the Retainer. So what is her motive for stating it? Just to draw out negotiations?


    Cylrit snorted. ¡°We see that the elf princess is close to you, Arthur Leywin. It isn¡¯t surprising that you push aside the rational for the emotional.¡±


    It was my turn to chuckle at his barbed words. ¡°Rational for the emotional? If I¡¯m to understand, then Agrona himself wants Lance Silverthorn. That means that we cannot¡ªunder any circumstances¡ªallow her to fall into his hands. Letting Tessia Eralith into your grip is a foolish decision under any mindset.¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a time, and I sensed that he was about to give me the real offer. ¡°If you are so insistent, then perhaps leeway can be given. There are hidden sanctuaries all across your continent that can hide things from even the most powerful of eyes. Deep in the Beast Glades¡­ Beneath the deserts of Darv¡­ Even on the outskirts of Elshire.¡±


    The Retainer¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Spellsong can guide your lover to one of these sanctuaries in the aftermath of healing your Commander. She must be removed from the board, King Leywin. That is the rational choice.¡±


    I fell deep into thought at the Retainer¡¯s offer. I wouldn¡¯t accept it¡ªat least not without purposefully extending the negotiations even further. Tessia also couldn¡¯t just be locked away from combat. She had as much right as everyone else to fight in this war.


    But the secondary implications of the Retainer¡¯s words sat in my stomach. Sanctuaries that can hide all from the most powerful of eyes¡­


    It was easy to guess why Spellsong was elected as an escort. Toren Daen had healed Tess during her most dire straits, even after his countrymen had attacked her. He had healed me after our pitched battle. And he knew me somehow in some way I still could not fathom.


    And from what Sylvie had told me, Spellsong was earnest in his desires. I found myself wishing again that my bond wasn¡¯t currently tracking leads along the north of Sapin.


    The implication was that Spellsong could be trusted to keep Tess¡¯ best interests at heart. I almost believed it, too.


    But I couldn¡¯t accept this offer, either. ¡°Your conditions all revolve around removing Lance Silverthorn from the war,¡± I said. ¡°But that will not happen. If you wish to convince me to take these offers, you¡¯re doing a poor job.¡±


    ¡°Your new Lance must be taken from the battlefield,¡± Cylrit said insistently. ¡°The only other option is to remove her from your flying castle.¡± He tilted his head. ¡°Or death.¡±


    The way Cylrit made his ultimatum raised my ire, my gauntleted hands clenching. But it wasn¡¯t said with malice. It wasn¡¯t even said as a threat. The Retainer spoke as if it were mere fact that the only option was death or removal.


    I held my anger in check as I turned to the side, reconsidering. Is this the line Seris demands for Virion Eralith¡¯s health? I thought, resisting the urge to pace. I could understand the Legacy being powerful. I knew it deep in my bones.


    I thought this through for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons. I could not afford to remove Tess from the battlefield. She would never forgive me if I did so. But also, she was powerful and strong. To negotiate a Lance away from the field was no simple matter.


    I¡¯ll have to talk to her, I thought. I already wanted this negotiation to draw out as long as possible so I could give our troops time to train in their new manalock weapons and reorganize along Darv¡¯s southern border. This gives me the perfect excuse to do so.


    ¡°It seems we are at an impasse for now, Cylrit,¡± I finally said. ¡°I will not make decisions regarding Lance Silverthorn¡¯s removal without her express input. That is not the kind of king I am.¡±


    Cylrit narrowed his eyes as he looked down at me. ¡°Your elf princess¡¯ thoughts on this should not matter,¡± he countered. ¡°We parlay for the safety and sanctity of this continent, not for one individual¡¯s desires.¡±


    I felt a quirk in my lips as I stared up at the Retainer. ¡°And you would certainly bargain away Seris¡¯ freedom for the greater good, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    The man opened his mouth, seemingly genuinely surprised by my rebuttal. Then he closed it with a sharp clack. ¡°My master would gladly sacrifice herself for the good of all.¡±


    But you wouldn¡¯t, I thought in return. Cylrit didn¡¯t say so, but my point had been made. ¡°We will meet here again in a week¡¯s time,¡± I said, turning on my heel. ¡°I will bring Lance Silverthorn¡¯s¨C¡±


    And then I felt it. It was like a scorching summer sun that scoured away any impurity with its blistering breath. The aura that suddenly took hold of the ambient mana made every single mote of fire about me dance and swarm as if pulled by a star.


    I swiveled on my heel, my breath coming up short as I summoned Dawn¡¯s Ballad. I stared upward, my eyes wide as that presence approached like a comet.


    Already, Cylrit had summoned a massive black greatsword. He looked just about ready to move or cry out, but that presence approached too quickly.


    Strong, I thought through gritted teeth as time seemed to run in slow motion. Sweat beaded down my skin. Even stronger than Taci.


    I called on my bond with Sylvie, about to prepare a Warp Step. My bond was startled from whatever she¡¯d been doing as a wave of confusion washed over us, but I didn¡¯t have time to explain.


    The very wood of the cabin began to smolder and spark as that heatwave approached, the light around us warping in the haze.


    And then they arrived, hovering in the sky above the lake. The water steamed from their pulsing presence, one that was almost familiar.


    Spellsong? I wondered, squinting my eyes as I stared up at the newcomer.


    Except it wasn¡¯t Toren Daen. No, this being was leagues above anything I¡¯d sensed from Spellsong, but I could not deny the resemblance. His martial robes fluttered in the wind as he looked down at us, his burning red brows cast in a furious scowl. His short hair blew in a slight breeze, but it was his eyes that caught my attention. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    One was as pure a blue as the lake he hovered above. The other, as deep an orange as the sun.


    The nest on that central island sparked, then caught fire as the newcomer levered a burning, pulsing mace that looked like it could crush mountains down at Cylrit.


    ¡°My name is Chul of the Asclepius Clan, foul Vritra,¡± he seethed. ¡°And I have come to end your lies.¡±

 Chapter 273: Shatterpoint

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Cylrit stepped backward uncertainly as that unending aura focused on him, crushing inward and making steam rise from his black plate armor. His dark hair clung to his head as he grunted, stumbling under that weight.


    My mind was awhirl with questions and worries as the mage leveled their weapon down at Cylrit threateningly, waiting for a response. But while my thoughts struggled for purchase beneath that stifling aura, I knew instinctively I needed to take action.


    My intent pressed back ever-so-slightly against that of ¡®Chul,¡¯ trying to shelter Cylrit. I was only partially successful, but the Retainer thankfully managed a deep breath. ¡°You are interrupting private business, asura,¡± I pressed out, forcing my voice to be even. ¡°Your kind is forbidden from interfering in this war.¡±


    Asclepius, I thought internally as I hovered slightly, putting myself between Chul and Cylrit. I felt the eyes of the mage turn to me, those contrasting pupils of ice and fire sending a tremor through my body. Sylvie said something about them. A former clan of the Great Eight that left to join Agrona. One of phoenixes.


    But if they joined with Agrona, why was this man¡ªlikely an asura¡ªthreatening Cylrit? Spellsong¡ªa phoenix hybrid¡ªfought on his side, after all.


    I felt my rising tension and worry shift slightly, however, as the phoenix bowed to me in the air, his free hand smashing into his chest in a thunderous beat. He kept that mace¡ªwhich looked like a star had been captured in the center¡ªleveled at Cylrit. ¡°I meant not to disturb you, Good King,¡± he said. I doubted it was intended as such, but the words echoed like a yell. ¡°I have quested far and wide, searching for your hearth as I slay monsters and beasts.¡±


    My eyes widened. ¡°The Rogue Hero,¡± I said, the dots aligning. I¡¯d sent Sylvie¡ªwho was now frantically asking what was wrong¡ªon a mission north to track sightings of this person. They¡¯d been eliminating slight offshoots of the Beast Hordes all on their own.


    Move south, Sylv, I thought quickly, unable to spare too much thought. The Rogue Hero is here.


    ¡°I¡¯m a hundred miles away from you!¡± my bond thought back. ¡°What do you mean he¡¯s there?!¡±


    The suffocating aura lessened slightly as Chul looked at me intently, a slight glimmer in his eye. ¡°The fell dragon pursued me greatly, Good King, but I would not let myself be caught by an Indrath. They know not the arts of the hunt and misleading prey. It was my duty to speak to you alone when poisonous words were not dripping into your righteous ears.


    ¡°But such is not of import now,¡± the man barked, focusing on Cylrit again, who had stood motionless with an expression of supreme concentration. ¡°The Vritra seek to mislead you, human king. They know naught but lies and riddles meant to confuse and baffle. I will dispatch this one in glorious combat as a testament to my words, and I shall take knowledge of my Mother from his defeated form.¡±


    His mother? I thought, feeling horrifically confused. I was missing something. ¡°Your actions have been beyond helpful, Chul Asclepius,¡± I said, trying to maintain a calm voice as I reasserted my stance to the asura. ¡°The fires you have wrought and the people you have saved speak to your intentions. But you cannot interrupt a¨C¡±


    ¡°Your mother¡­¡± Cylrit¡¯s even baritone rumbled out. He slowly, haltingly rose into the air. Though I knew he struggled to present himself beneath that aura, he looked once again entirely unfazed. ¡°I know of her, Chul Asclepius. But we thought you would be at the Hearth.¡±


    Chul¡¯s aura redoubled once more, slamming into both me and Cylrit. I gritted my teeth as the house behind us began to burn from the heat. ¡°You, from the southern infestation¡­ You know of the Hearth,¡± he whispered, his words hot despite his frigid tone. ¡°That is unacceptable. The Vritra cannot know of my clan¡¯s home.¡±


    ¡°I have spoken with Aurora!¡± Cylrit pressed out, his armor smoldering. ¡°She yet lives, Chul of the Hearth. I can tell you all you wish to know if you listen.¡±


    Chul¡¯s eyes narrowed, but his intent withdrew slightly. ¡°You wish to spare your skull my mace, Vritra? Your lies will roll over me like fire off a magma mallard¡¯s back.¡±


    ¡°We are not enemies, son of Dawn,¡± Cylrit countered sharply. ¡°Her ghost persists, leading another on.¡±


    My mind was working feverishly to try and understand everything that came together, but I recognized one name. Aurora.


    Aldir had mentioned that Aurora Asclepius haunted the steps of one man. That was what gave Taci the precedent to intervene in the war in the first place.


    The pieces aligned instantly.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± I blurted out, looking at Cylrit. ¡°The ghost that follows him. Aldir Thyestes claimed it to be of Aurora Asclepius.¡±


    ¡°The Vritra speaks true?¡± Chul said, his booming voice softening. He lowered his mace slightly, his expression morphing into something profoundly¡­ hopeful.


    I opened my mouth, about to say that yes, there was merit in Cylrit¡¯s words.


    But then King Grey returned, reminding me of what I was looking at. An asura. A rogue one, if my internal guess was correct. I didn¡¯t understand everything that was going on, but there was one thing that was certain.


    This asura couldn¡¯t join with Seris Vritra. An unchecked threat like that would invite further escalation from Epheotus and Alacrya both, with Dicathen caught in the middle. I already barely managed to keep the continent together with Taci haunting my footsteps, but if another asura were to join with the Alacryans¡­


    ¡°Things are not so simple,¡± I said instead, trying to balance everything that I saw. I couldn¡¯t let Chul join with Cylrit, but neither could I afford to alienate Cylrit too deeply lest the parlay end. ¡°Sources from Epheotus claimed that a ghost haunted Spellsong¡¯s steps, but it is unclear how much of that ghost remains or what its part is.¡±


    The young asura slowly hovered to the ground, his eyes uncertain and strained as they darted between me and the Retainer. ¡°I knew that my mother yet lived,¡± he said in a quiet voice, the hand holding his mace trembling. ¡°I knew it could not be pure folly born of my heart.¡±


    His eyes sharpened as they honed in on Cylrit. ¡°You, Vritra. Tell me what you know immediately. If any treachery leaves your lips, I shall slay you where you stand.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s blood-red eyes flicked to me, then back to the phoenix. He stepped forward, past me so that he could stand closer to the asura.


    Cylrit was a wall of dark metal, and my memories of him at the summit just before the war had left a deep impression on me. While Uto was tall and lanky like a scarecrow, there was something daunting about how silent and reserved Seris¡¯ Retainer was.


    But compared to the tower of muscle and sculpted power that was the phoenix, even Cylrit looked small.


    ¡°I can tell you very little, Chul Asclepius,¡± he said. ¡°Your mother¡¯s survival was kept secret and safe from all who might do her harm. It is my master who knows more. And the one they call Spellsong.¡±


    Then, Cylrit held his massive greatsword of black metal out to the side, letting it dissipate. His hands were empty. ¡°We of Sehz-Clar are not your enemies.¡±


    Chul slowly lowered his mace, his tensed muscles relaxing beneath his orange martial robes. He opened his mouth, about to speak.


    ¡°Regardless of any of this,¡± I interrupted, flexing my aura in an attempt to regain control of the situation, ¡°You cannot join with Alacrya, Chul Asclepius. To do so would warrant escalation and hellfire from Epheotus. There is a balance that any asuran intervention will break.¡±


    Chul looked at me, and I was almost struck dumb by the purity of the emotion written across his features. If before I could only see pure anger, now¡­ Now I saw a hope that burned as bright as a pyre. ¡°I will return to you, Good King. I shall tell you of the treacherous horrors of the Indraths so your rule will be untainted by their touch,¡± he said, something raw clawing its way from his throat. ¡°But I must know the truth of my Mother.¡±


    That¡¯s not what I meant, I thought, trying to think of a way to intervene. Even through the swirls of ambient fire mana that seemed to follow the man, it was hard to decipher that he was an asura. Something was hiding it from my senses. But his strength alone belied the truth of his nature.


    I cannot let him join either side. My hands clenched and unclenched as Chul walked toward Cylrit slowly, like a shadowcat sensing a trap. And in turn, Cylrit held out a gauntleted hand in a gesture of peace.


    I found the words I would say next quickly. Already, Cylrit and I had been negotiating for Spellsong¡¯s healing of Virion. If I played my cards right, I could push for this Chul to wait and take on a noninterference policy until we negotiated Toren Daen¡¯s healing.


    If I push for the phoenix to meet Toren Daen under neutral grounds such as this, it gives me more time, I thought, opening my mouth to speak.


    And my eyes caught on King Grey. The phantom that haunted my steps, with his empty steel eyes, choppy blonde hair, and impossibly golden crown¡­


    He had never, ever taken his eyes off of me. Never in the entirety of the time this crack in my sanity had presented itself had the ghost turned his gaze from my face as he judged my every action.


    But the rictus image of my previous life was not looking at me. He was staring at Chul¡¯s back.


    My eyes followed the gaze of the wraith-like shadow of King Grey as if drawn by a magnet.


    I couldn¡¯t sense it; not really. There was a¡­ mask over it that made it nigh impossible to see. But the dark particles gathering around the base of Chul¡¯s shadow were familiar.


    I was moving before I was even conscious of the action. I blurred forward, Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashing purple as it swung down at the phoenix¡¯s shadow with an imbuement of strengthening earth.


    The blade carved a crescent arc just in time, intercepting an oily black spike as it surged upward. The bloodiron spear¡ªfar, far stronger than anything Uto had ever conjured, and poised to spear right into Chul¡¯s core¡ªsparked as it rebounded off my sword.


    I followed the path of that dark mana, swinging my blade. A crescent of purple-tinged wind blurred toward that strange amalgamation of shadows. Within, I caught a flash of orangish hair and deep horns, but I was unsurprised to see a surge of caustic sludge coalesce from nothing, catching my wind blade and tearing it apart. I could feel the mana in my spell degrading, even with the aether supporting and assisting it.


    Chul was already whirling, pivoting as he roared in fury at the attempted assassination. That mace of his pulsed, flames leaking from every inch, before he swung it to the side.


    It impacted a massive tower shield, one that hadn¡¯t even been there a heartbeat before. Fire erupted in a catastrophic boom over that blue-black protection as the blue-haired mage behind it was sent skidding backward, electricity snapping outward like coiling serpents. The woman retaliated with a darting clip of her spear, but Chul batted it aside with casual ease.


    The dark lightning traveled up his mace, trying to sink into his nerves. But a simple flex and a dreadful snarl washed it away.


    I only had a moment to think. Wraiths. Four mana signatures were suddenly apparent as they flickered. Their ability to hide was almost like Mirage Walk, but now that I had honed in on that failure in their technique¡­


    ¡°Liar!¡± Chul boomed, hefting his mace as Cylrit was pulled away by a tendril of acid. A Vritra-blooded man with corkscrew-like horns and earth-brown hair snarled contemptuously as he dragged the Retainer free of Chul¡¯s retaliatory swing. ¡°Treacherous, traitorous basilisk!¡±


    ¡°Chul, you need to¡ª¡± I started, already struggling to keep track of everyone and everything. But before I could say anything, the asura erupted in fire, throwing himself at Cylrit and the Wraith wielding corrosive magic with an explosion.


    I barely switched to fireborne in time before the heat washed over me, engulfing me in a conflagration of heat. Even engrossed as I was in the sensation of all that fire was, I still¡ªimpossibly¡ªfelt myself start to burn.


    Need to act fast, I thought as those fires engulfed me. Need to kill them all!


    I Burst Stepped from the center of that nimbus of fire, little less than a blur. Black spikes shot up from a dozen different places, each trying to impale me. Acid gleamed maliciously, coating every spear.


    With barely a twitch of my mana, spires of earth erupted in turn, their edges bathed in flames as they matched each spear of oily metal. The flickering tongues of heat around my earthen spears banished the shadows that strengthened that dark art, allowing them to punch through and obliterate each other in an array of obsidian shards and crumbling rock.


    I locked eyes with the one conjuring the spikes. With thickly braided blonde hair and horns that nearly touched under his chin, I knew him to be a Caster.


    The Shield is fighting Chul, along with two others, I thought, engaging windborne as I evaded the rising spikes with contemptuous ease. Only four Wraiths? Not five?


    I swung Dawn¡¯s Ballad, conjuring a storm of aether-laden wind that picked up chips of dust and created a torrent of power.


    The Caster darted to the side as a golem of black bloodiron erupted from the shadows, seeking to embrace me with a body of obsidian blades.


    I shifted to earthborne as the thing swung at me, deflecting its hammer blow with a gauntlet of stone. A simple twist on my core made my acclorite-infused body take on yet another element: waterborne. My sense for both fire and wind mana cut out, but I was more powerful in the arts of the boulder and the dance of the lake than ever before.


    I grabbed the construct of black spikes, flowing and redirecting it against an incoming nimbus of soulfire. The two detonated into a million glimmering shards of decay-tinted deviants.


    But in that conflagration, the blonde-braided Caster had already vanished. The ground beneath my feet was alight with greenish mana for an instant, but I was already moving. A spire of earth larger than a house thrust from the ground, carrying me up and away from the roiling mass.


    A swamp of corrosive, stinking sludge squelched into existence right where I¡¯d been a heartbeat before. It seeped into the nearby lake, which had once been pristine and peaceful. The corrosion bubbled and churned around the base of my spire, eating into it.


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    I let waterborne drift away, instead embracing fire alongside the stone. And I activated Thunderclap Impulse, the lightning magic enhanced greatly by the burning orange translucency of my body. Electricity surged along my nerves, heightening my perception, and the lurching world around me ground to a halt. My auburn hair¨Ctinted in motes of red and yellow¨Cstood on end from the lightning coursing along the strands. And despite the raging clashes of battle, I had a chance to think.


    I need to get to Chul, I thought, battle fog threatening the edges of my perception. He was engaged with three flitting forms that darted in and out, testing and clashing with him as he roared in fury. Cylrit was with the Wraiths, his face masked and unreadable as he swung that massive greatsword at the raging phoenix. I can¡¯t win against all these Wraiths alone!


    Two were focusing on me. One had thrown that gout of soulfire, another Caster. This one was bald with patches of marbled skin and spots of ash-gray. His dagger-like horns sprouted from his head in a statement of his blood.


    The other was the sneering one with long, earthy hair and corkscrew horns. He¡¯d been the mage that conjured the corrosive swamp and tendrils of poisonous gas.


    A Shield, I recognized, immediately marking this half-Vritra as a threat. I needed to eliminate the Shields first!


    My core ached from the constant merger of two separate manaborne forms, and I could already feel the strain on my mind like fog drifting down from the clouds. But I pushed through it as I gathered my mana.


    A hundred tendrils of cloying sludge erupted from the Shield with corkscrew horns, each dipping and weaving and twisting toward my position in the air. The Caster, recognizing that my intent had been on him with utmost focus, backed away in the air, sending out a gout of soulfire that sought my body with deadly efficiency.


    The tendrils of sludge wrapped around me and the rising spike of earth with the grace of a whip eel, the greenish toxins sizzling and popping against the heat of my body. I could feel the increased defenses of earthborne struggling against the encroaching poison as it lashed at me.


    The sensation was horrible. As those green particles sank into my translucent skin, I knew they were designed to instill pain. I had no true nerves in my manaborne forms, but the greenish particles didn¡¯t seem to care. It burned and tore and rotted all at once.


    But pain was nothing. I clung to the mantle of Grey as the tide of black soulfire approached me, roaring without heat. I held tighter to fire and earthborne as it eclipsed my entire sight.


    In the space between heartbeats that Thunderclap Impulse afforded me, I acted. I strained against the tendrils of caustic rot that kept me bound, but the ambient mana still reacted to my call.


    Deep orange flame, touched and enhanced by the call of aether, erupted around me. A firestorm of my own conjuring met the soulfire, but I could immediately tell it was going to be overwhelmed. The black fires consumed and gorged on mine as they encroached closer and closer. I could just see the soulfire Caster¡¯s sneer as they thought my fate sealed.


    I gritted my teeth, then gripped the binding tentacles around me with my other hand. I siphoned more mana from my core, feeling the caustic burns as they cinched deep inside. Splitting my focus, I extended the electricity racing along my nerves, sending it thundering down the funnel of the deviant water mana entangling my arms and legs.


    The effects of my aetherically-enhanced lightning spell obliterated the tendrils binding me, then nearly crashed into and through the corkscrew Shield. With a snarl, he let his tendrils dissipate.


    His mistake.


    Everything happened in that single, fractured second. I felt my acclorite-infused body strain in protest as I bent my legs, imbuing mana into my limbs as fire gathered at my feet. The massive spire of rock below me began to melt and churn as Thunderclap Impulse deepened, my nerves screaming in protest. But the insulating effects of earthborne kept the lightning contained. The insight I gained into the deviant from fireborne kept me in control.


    I Burst Stepped, the mana firing in precise movements along my muscles as I blurred toward the toxic sludge Shield. Behind me, the conflagration of black hellfire engulfed the place I¡¯d just been, before splashing into the forest in a spray a few hundred feet in diameter. I could sense the Caster¡¯s surprise and panic as they yelled out in alarm to their teammate.


    The toxic Shield barely had time to respond as I blurred toward him. Dawn¡¯s Ballad flashed as I streaked past. My enemy howled in pain as I slammed into the dirt, one bloody arm falling to the ground in a wet squelch.


    ¡°Ifiok, on me, damnit!¡± he snarled, already pivoting. He conjured a wave of caustic mist through gritted teeth. ¡°Blaise isn¡¯t enough!¡±


    I released fireborne, then became water. Thunderclap Impulse sputtered out, but I didn¡¯t need it now. With the determined tide of the ocean itself and the steady surety of rock, I flowed around the sudden wall of mist, then grabbed the Wraith in a joint lock as I released Dawn¡¯s Ballad. My eyes darted to the shadows around us, noting the gathering black mana particles there.


    I could just hear the one called Ifiok¡ªthe one who conjured soulmetal golems¡ªgrowl out another name as he reoriented on me and my captive. Richmal.


    The Casters are switching their targets dynamically! I realized, feeling my body protest slightly as I called on the ambient water mana. The Wraiths can¡¯t afford to divert from that monstrous phoenix, but they¡¯re ensuring two are always facing me! Maybe more!


    I was certain I could face two of these Wraiths and emerge victorious: but three?


    I took a deep breath, inhaling caustic gas. The green mana ravaged my lungs and made every orifice burn, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.


    The lake itself erupted outward under my call, heaving like the inhale of some great beast. Just before the spikes of black metal could shear through my mana-body, the one-armed Richmal and I were swallowed by a whale of water, then dragged underneath the waves.


    The Wraith I¡¯d seized had been struggling and fighting, erupting with caustic mana and trying to burn me away the entire time. The stump of his arm had been popping and squelching as it slowly shifted, healing in real-time. But as we were both suddenly brought underwater by the crashing waves, his snarls and insults cut off as water rushed into his lungs.


    With the grace of my waterborne form, I felt like I¡¯d lived beneath the waves all my life as I pulled us deeper and deeper toward the lakebed. Richmal continued to struggle, but the water diffused his toxic nature and spared me any more burns. We sank like stones.


    Before I could get comfortable, however, a black spike erupted from the lakebed, thrusting upward and piercing the sky. One after another after another created a cage around me and the weakening Wraith.


    The one he¡¯d called for, Ifiok! I thought, cursing.


    And then the mana signatures high above shifted slightly. Hastily, I released my grip on the toxic Wraith. I let go of waterborne as decay-aspected lightning raced down the conductive paths of that dark metal, poised to rend me apart.


    Before it could hit me, I let myself be swallowed by the silt. The earth welcomed me like a mother as I sank through it, not unlike a stone swimmer fish from the depths of Darv. My lungs burned as I held my breath, weaving through the rock.


    Black spikes shot through the earth, following me as I moved. High above, I could sense as the Wraiths continued their deadly duel with the phoenix.


    When it was only three on one, I thought the blustering asura might¡¯ve had a chance. But the phoenix was slowing down at an unnatural pace. It was almost as if he were losing mana. And as I sensed Ifiok return back to the fight and Richmal pull himself to the shore, I knew that I only had one chance.


    My mind felt stretched and my core ached from the constant use of magic and aether. I still couldn¡¯t breathe, underground as I was, and I could already feel my body starting to lock up from the lack of oxygen. Furthermore, I knew the Wraiths would be waiting for me to erupt from the ground to try and strike again.


    I needed to move fast, and I needed to move smart if I wanted to survive.


    Get rid of their Shields, I thought hazily, clearing a long, long tunnel in front of me with an absent flex of earth mana. I slid my feet back as I settled into stance. As I released my earthborne form and embraced fire, I recognized something that made my lips creep into a slight, exhausted grin.


    There was no air in this little pocket of earth I¡¯d created for myself. No wind to offer resistance. I would go even faster.


    I called on my bond with Sylvie, summoning Dawn¡¯s Ballad. Fire and lightning threaded along the blade as I engaged Thunderclap Impulse again.


    Let¡¯s hope that training with Taci has finally paid off.


    I engaged Bust Step, the earth heaving me forward as I streaked like a javelin. Space warped.


    And I emerged high in the sky, directly behind a specific Wraith: the one with short blue hair, a vicious spear, and a massive towering Shield. The heat cascading around me, conjured by the wild sweeps of the phoenix, was hot enough to sear flesh from bone. But under fireborne, I could bear that as I needed.


    The Wraith reacted far faster than I anticipated. She whirled, dark lightning trailing along her massive spear as she prepared to thrust it toward me.


    But something something pulled on her mana in a way that made her ever-so-slightly twist. And I could feel the tiniest distortions in Thunderclap Impulse from¨C


    My eyes locked with Cylrit halfway across the battlefield as he ran interference for the Wraiths, darting in and out and scoring tiny cuts on the slowing phoenix. He¡¯d changed his blade to attract lightning magic or something of that effect.


    Thank you, Retainer, I thought, before I engaged a fiery Burst Strike.


    Even as caustic tentacles from Richmal tried to pull the Wraith away, Dawn¡¯s Ballad was unerring. The Vritra-blooded woman tried to thrust forward with her spear, tendrils of black lightning unable to reach me from Cylrit¡¯s strange magic.


    My purple blade¡ªmoving so fast I couldn¡¯t even fully comprehend it¡ªsheared through her spear with ease. It parted steel, flesh, and then bone. The blue-haired Wraith¡¯s eyes were wide with shock as her head fell from her shoulders, unable to comprehend what had led to her defeat in the first place.


    ¡°Ulrike, no!¡± Richmal¡¯s gravelly voice snarled. The caustic Shield whose arm I¡¯d relieved. ¡°Damn you, lesser! I¡¯ll¨C¡±


    That massive mace of the phoenix nearly took off his head. Instead, it obliterated his entire shoulder and arm, which had barely started regenerating.


    I took a deep inhale, finally allowing oxygen to touch my lungs once more as the Wraith¡¯s blood steamed off my fireborne form. The scent of iron and copper was rife in the air, and a dozen miles of the forest all around were on fire. Smoke rose high into the skies as the remainder of the Wraithsquad battled against the phoenix, who I could tell was flagging.


    My limbs chafed from the places those caustic tendrils had dug into me, and my lungs burned even more. I could feel myself healing already, the mana of a white core mage more than enough, but I still felt exhausted and tired in a way I hadn¡¯t in a long time.


    But I still had work to do.


    I arrayed windborne atop my current fiery state, my mind stretching as I whirled away from a few black spikes. A dozen of Ifiok¡¯s obsidian golems charged at both me and the phoenix, but without the Shield, I knew this battle was over.


    I drifted backward like a leaf, planting my feet against the still-falling tower shield of the dead Wraith. I locked eyes with their decapitated head for a moment, my nerves heightened by Thunderclap Impulse.


    Then I focused my attention on the blonde-braided caster again. The one who had constantly been summoning bloodiron like Uto and harrying my shadows. He sneered, his face a mask of pain and fear as the blood of his comrade steamed off the purple edge of my sword. He was covered in a hundred burns, and most of his hair had been charred away from his combat with the phoenix.


    ¡°Blaise!¡± Richmal roared again, his face entirely charred. ¡°He¡¯s aiming for¡ª¡±


    I Burst Stepped again, the shield beneath my feet rocketing into the ground with a catastrophic boom.


    A massive spike grew from the center of the Caster¡¯s chest as I approached like a javelin. His eyes gleamed victoriously as I streaked for that edge, no doubt expecting me to impale myself on it from how I¡¯d been moving.


    But Burst Step was not so linear when I was the wind itself. The air currents guided me sideways, the spire only scoring a gash along my ribs instead of piercing my core. The Wraith barely had time to conjure a barrier of bloodiron to block the swing of Dawn¡¯s Ballad as I finally closed the distance.


    My blade sunk deep into the shield, sparks and creaking metal my reward. Blaise smirked, seeming to think he¡¯d successfully blocked my attack.


    That didn¡¯t spare him the fist that cratered in his face. His horns crunched and snapped in an explosion of mana as my fire-coated punch slammed into the side of his head, then followed through with a conflagration of heat.


    The Vritra half-blood shot toward the lake, smoking as he screamed in abject agony. His cries were immediately swallowed by the churning waters in an explosion of foam, but I wasn¡¯t done.


    I thrust Dawn¡¯s Ballad high, calling on the winds as I wove lightning into a turbulent pull. Particles of aether darted in and about the little stormclouds as they danced over the churning water.


    I sensed Blaise¡¯s mana signature below the surface. Weakened and hurt, but not dead. Already, he was trying to rise and escape the trap I¡¯d laid for him.


    Then I swung down my sword, exhaustion deep in my bones.


    Like the hammer of Thor, lighting erupted from a hundred different stormclouds as they lanced into the water with vicious fury. The sky cracked and boomed as each volt slammed into the water over and over and over again. The water carried that charge, electrifying every inch of the expanse.


    I could sense as my attack hit, feel a bit of the voltaic particles as they churned across my enemy¡¯s form. Like a fly trying to flee from an electric net, my foe had no recourse. No escape.


    And finally, the electric booms of my storm subsided, my mana core squeezing from use. I heaved for breath as I stared down at the lake, my manaborne forms misting away. I slumped, looking at the charred and blackened corpse of the Wraith as it slowly floated to the surface. Sweat dripped down my face, and a steady stream of blood leaked from a deep gash on my side right beneath my ribs.


    I clenched my teeth, pressing a hand to that wound. Liquid crimson streamed beneath my fingers as I took in the state of the battlefield lethargically, Dawn¡¯s Ballad limp in my hand.


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Sylvie cried desperately over my link, only clear now that I¡¯d distanced myself somewhat from my battle fugue. ¡°Arthur, I¡¯m coming! I¡¯ll be there soon, just hold on!¡±


    It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s fine, Sylv, I thought tiredly. We¡¯re¨C


    I spun, much slower than usual as I raised Dawn¡¯s Ballad. Still, I managed to catch the swing of Cylrit¡¯s massive greatsword as I braced with two arms in a high block. Sparks flew as black metal met perfect purple.


    I caught a gleam of the Retainer¡¯s bloody eyes, before he pressed a little harder. The grinding sound of metal on metal echoed in my ears. I shot back down toward the ground from the force, the earth rushing to reclaim her child. I skidded back through the dirt slightly, feeling my legs burn from my constant use of Burst Step.


    I fell to one knee as I finally reached a stop, heaving as I plunged my sword into the ground for support. As Cylrit tapped down a moment later a ways away from me, I distantly recognized that he wasn¡¯t doing much better.


    Much of his pitch-black armor had been melted into his body by the heat of the phoenix¡¯s attacks. His sculpted face bore myriad cuts and burns. He seemed barely able to stand, and even his massive greatsword was littered with cracks and chips that leaked black smoke.


    He leaned on his sword, the sounds of battle echoing around us still as the world burned. I struggled to think coherently through it all, blinking away stars and spots in my vision.


    ¡°The Wraiths must deal with the Asclepius¡­¡± Cylrit ground out, his very voice sounding burned, ¡°on¡­ their own. It is my mission to¡­ try and slay the King of Dicathen¡¯s forces. Theirs? To kill the god. I have no part in that.¡±


    I tried to push myself up, leaning on my blade. I felt the sudden urge to laugh as I looked into Cylrit¡¯s blood-red eyes, which still gleamed despite the blood covering half his face. Neither of us moved, each too tired to do so.


    The rumbles and screams of Wraith and Asclepius continued. I focused on mana rotation as I knelt, trying to regain some energy as the battle beyond reached its conclusion.


    For whatever reason, that phoenix lost his mana and strength quickly. But there was only one Wraith left, and there was no chance for them.


    ¡°And if the Retainer is forced to flee his confrontation with the King,¡± I replied weakly, ¡°then who can blame him for what happened?¡±


    In the fit of battle, I hadn¡¯t even had time to think about the implications of the Wraiths listening in. But Cylrit¡­ wasn¡¯t a part of that. From how he had engaged the strange ability of his sword to give me a better opening at the Shield¡ªUlrike, I thought¡ªI knew that he wished for their execution as much as I.


    He¡­ was followed. Or I was. Or Chul, the phoenix, I thought groggily, pulling more mana in as time seemed to stretch. Need to talk to Syl¨C


    And then my eyes burst open wide as I felt something approaching like a hurricane of deadly fire. Cylrit was still leaning on that massive greatsword of his, naught but a statue. But behind him, streaking down like a comet¡­


    ¡°Cylrit, move!¡± I yelled, trying to get to my feet. ¡°Defend yourself, now!¡±


    Another voice thundered. Furious, wrought with grief and shattered hope as it drowned out my pleas. ¡°Liar!¡±


    With a sputtering application of magic, Thunderclap Impulse lanced painfully across my nerves, making them tender and sore. My perception heightened, slowing the world around me.


    Move! I demanded of myself, trying to rise as I used Dawn¡¯s Ballad for support. Pull yourself up, Arthur!


    But I still couldn¡¯t move. Not fast enough. It only allowed me to watch in grim horror as Cylrit¡¯s red eyes widened ever so slightly. The urgency in my tone, in my eyes compelled him. But he wasn¡¯t fast enough, either. Behind him, outlined like the sun itself, was a nimbus of burning flame and fell vengeance.


    All Cylrit did was move his lips, an unintelligible word mouthed there. I saw so much in his eyes as that word ghosted across his features in slow motion. So much I understood.


    Seris.


    And then the mace struck his back with the crunch of rending metal and breaking bones. Cylrit flew past me like a broken comet toward the water, smoking and empty. I didn¡¯t even have a chance to blink before his body smashed into the water, sinking beneath the waves.


    And then the mace hit the ground.


    The earthquake impact threw me from my trembling feet, sending me to the dirt in a pained tumble. Thunderclap Impulse backfired, leaving me to twist in agony as the electricity danced painfully across my nerves like white fire as it enhanced every sensation of pain I now experienced.


    All I could do was stare at the place Cylrit¡¯s limp, gauntleted hand thrust from the water, not moving at all as steam rose from the surface.


    ¡°My vengeance begins now,¡± the phoenix boomed, looking down from on high. He was covered in a hundred cuts himself. He growled, grabbing a chunk of metal that had been stuck in his shoulder, before tearing it out. The mace rose from the ground, smoking with Cylrit¡¯s blood as it returned to the phoenix¡¯s hand.


    I thought he was weeping.


    ¡°The wretched Vritra lie and speak falsehoods, Good King. See it in their actions today! I shall destroy the nest they created in the depths of the dwarvish kingdom. And when I return, I shall be heralded by the blood of their bodies and the weeping of their crushed bones.¡±


    I could find no words in my soul as the phoenix turned, orienting toward the south. He sped away, giving me no more chance to speak as he trailed blood and fire behind him. The forest burned around us.


    ¡°Arthur!¡± Sylvie¡¯s voice thundered in my head, a dark spot in the distant sky. ¡°Arthur, I¡¯m here! I¡¯m here!¡±


    I groaned, shifting as the forest burned around me. Cylrit¡¯s mana signature was¡­ weak. Fading. Need you here, Sylv, I thought, silently terrified. He¡¯s dying.

 Chapter 274: Blindfire

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    The communication artifact in my hand pinged again, the effervescent red glow of light like the heat haze of a dwarven forge. The spherical device flashed once. Twice. Thrice.


    I maintained a calm front as I stared at the fire, listening to the artifact ring. My fingers tapped across my legs, observing the low-burning fire in my rooms. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The sound of the artifact was much like a drumbeat if I listened closely enough. A thump, thump, thump that pulsed outward like the squeeze of a heart.


    Cylrit has not reported to me, I thought with an undercurrent of worry. I should have heard from him. At least through the urgent line if something was amiss.


    We had agreed-upon protocols in place for meetings such as the one I¡¯d directed him toward. Cylrit was to negotiate with King Leywin on the removal of the Legacy¡¯s Vessel from this war, while also drawing Mawar into our clutches. But regardless of the outcome of my Retainer¡¯s mission, he should have sent word within several hours of his meeting. If he did not have access to his communication artifact or it was somehow damaged, there were arrangements in place for my Retainer to send word through less efficient means.


    The worry that reared its head was not entirely unfamiliar. It was something I felt more and more as Toren seeped his molten touch closer to my heart. But all the same, I was practiced in such thoughts.


    My communication artifact ceased its ringing, and so too did I feel my stomach clench in uncertainty. The flames in the hearth across from me dimmed, and each shadow seemed a little darker. I could not explain why. There was no logical thought behind it. But I felt a sort of cold spread along my veins like snowfall.


    Worry without action will do you no good, Seris Vritra, I told myself, enforcing calm across my psyche. I did not allow my blood to freeze in my veins. You do not know enough to draw any conclusions.


    I slowly stood, smoothing out my dark dress. I had several contingencies in place already depending on the possible outcomes. The best-case scenario was that Cylrit¡¯s artifact was somehow damaged or broken, but that meant that he would have faced some sort of battle or unforeseen scuffle.


    I did not profile King Leywin as the sort to renege on a deal, I thought, pacing slowly. Taking into account the worst possible scenario¨Cbut also the one most likely¨CI might have been double-crossed by the once-king. The most likely possibility is that he has done something to capture and incapacitate Cylrit, but it would be anathema to his character to do so. At least without informing me first.


    I had deduced easily enough that the newly crowned commander of the Triunion forces was parlaying for time. I suspected he did truly wish for Virion Eralith¡¯s health, but if he could buy a few months for his new ¡®gun¡¯ technology to develop and disperse across his military, the king would kill two birds with one stone.


    Kill two birds with one stone, I thought with a subtle upturn of my lips. Strange, for that to be one of Toren¡¯s little quips from Earth, considering his phoenix heritage.


    I shook my head slightly with a sigh of bare exasperation. I needed to stay focused.


    In lieu of this understanding, I had tacitly agreed to stall my efforts on the northern front of this war. My spies reported that trenches were being dug all across Sapin¡¯s south in unending lines. Spikes and barbed wire had been laid down for a reason I couldn¡¯t yet comprehend.


    But I had focused on the other fronts I had influence over. I¡¯d begun granting Viessa more troops and supplies, subtly reinforcing her battlefields and diverting King Leywin¡¯s resources as I propped up her dying vanguard. My steamships conducted raids along Sapin¡¯s western and northern shores, darting in and ravaging military outposts and supply lines before retreating as fast as they¡¯d come.


    Yet these were all common tactics in warfare. Not enough to justify some sort of shift in Cylrit¡¯s negotiations or warrant his capture.


    I stopped in my slow back-and-forth walk, something aligning. ¡°Unless¡­¡± I whispered quietly, tapping a finger against my arm.


    I¡¯d opened discreet talks with some of the disabused nobles of Dicathen. The pompous, greedy aristocrats had been outraged by Arthur Leywin¡¯s deft dispersal of their power and centralization of authority. And they wanted it back. House Wykes in particular had fed me information likely thought hidden from the rest of the world, the re-emergence of the asura and the truth of how Arthur had become king once more chief among them.


    If Taci Thyestes had learned of Arthur¡¯s parlay with Cylrit over matters of Spellsong, then that might deeply strain even Arthur¡¯s ability to keep my Retainer safe. With the pressures of an asura at his back, even the mightiest lesser leader would be forced to change their course.


    Yet I still did not know enough, and I could not act on half-formed assumptions.


    I stowed my communication artifact back in my dimension ring, instead withdrawing something else. Where the artifact felt absurdly cold, this one was¡­ warm. In a way I could not truly understand.


    Inversion glimmered as it blackened my skin, but the pain did not unsettle me. No, the song of my blood quieted slightly as I embraced this small piece of Toren.


    That was Toren¡¯s gift, to connect others. And Rahdeas had hinted to me that Toren¡¯s endeavors in the Hearth were proceeding well.


    He would return with the assurances of his adopted family, of that I was certain. He is the linchpin of everything I am building, I realized after a moment, holding that basilisk horn close to my chest. All of it¡­ It¡¯s all revolving around him, now. Slowly but surely, like the pull of a star.


    I will need to inquire about these new technologies that Arthur Leywin is introducing from Spellsong, I thought. They must be Earthen in nature, same as the steam engine. Toren will know.


    I would also have to restrict my lover¡¯s actions more with the knowledge of Taci Thyestes¡¯ directive, but I was not as worried about the asura¡¯s intervention as I would have otherwise been. From all reports, the pantheon was a rash, young, and predictable being, despite his asuran nature. And since Aldir Thyestes¡¯ intervention, I had escalated my plans on countering asuran influence.


    Even now, my dimension ring held one such countermeasure.


    I turned, the horn in my hands helping me cement what I needed to do next. Cylrit was not responding, which meant that there was likely something that had gone awry with his meeting with King Arthur, but my knowledge was still lacking.


    I strode purposefully from my rooms, once again refactoring my plans and goals. The dark caverns of Burim felt strangely cold despite the end-of-summer heat, and I restrained the urge to shiver. I kept Inversion strapped to the side of my belt, using that warmth to banish the strange dread in my core.


    But as I walked through the halls of the Divot, it didn¡¯t take long for me to notice something was strange about the cavernous stretches.


    The serpentine reaches of the dwarves were always swarming with the presence of the shorter folk, but now? They were dark and empty. What guards were present were all Alacryans.


    Before I could think to question someone further, the crashing sound of footsteps on stone resounded past my ears. It quickly grew closer with an urgency that made me turn.


    Lusul of Named Blood Hercross rushed forward, his dark skin beaded with sweat. He stumbled to a halt as he reached me, before quickly falling to one knee. His mana pulsed out of him erratically, showing how nervous he was. He kept his pinkish eyes trained on the floor.


    ¡°Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he said obediently, his sweat leaking through his clothes. ¡°I have¡­ urgent news to report.¡±


    ¡°Lusul Hercross,¡± I said, tilting my head as I looked down at the young man. He had risen quickly in my military to be one of the forerunners of our station in Burim. He trembled under my cool attention, but I knew from past experience that he held a spine stronger than any steel. ¡°What is it you wish to tell me?¡±


    ¡°The dwarf, Elder Rahdeas, is attempting to evacuate Burim,¡± the young man said quickly. ¡°He¡¯s working on the Undercrofts right now, but he¡¯s trying to push out the dwarves onto the docks or through the teleportation portal.¡±


    Immediately, my mind flashed to the last conversation I¡¯d had with the addled dwarf. Where we¡¯d contemplated the past and our mutual rebellions.


    What is the old dwarf planning? I thought, immediately feeling that earlier uncertainty rekindle. Rahdeas had some mental tie with the leader of the Asclepius, and though I¡¯d assumed our goals aligned¡­


    I began to move, my stride purposeful as this information settled like a lead weight at the bottom of my stomach. The clicks of my heels on stone was determined and sharp as they resounded about the cave. ¡°So the dwarf is forgoing our alliance, then?¡± I questioned, my voice cool and dispassionate. ¡°He is surely aware of the implications of this.¡±


    Lusul quickly fell in behind me. Though his near-pink eyes were nervous, they held a spark of determination and confidence that had only grown the more he¡¯d been drawn into Toren¡¯s web of companionship.


    ¡°You have my permission to speak, Lord Hercross,¡± I said, sensing that he had more to say as I continued to move. ¡°Say your mind.¡±


    ¡°The dwarf tried to direct Alacryan troops, too,¡± he replied after a moment. ¡°They did not comply, but I took the initiative to inform you. The Elder was incredibly insistent.¡±


    Almost as if on cue, a few of my captains rushed down the hall. Captain Dromorth, ever loyal, stood at their forefront. The man almost seemed to sink into the dark from the ebony of his skin. His glasses were askew as he thundered forward.


    ¡°Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he said, about to kneel as the Hercross boy had. ¡°I have¨C¡±


    ¡°News to report regarding Elder Rahdeas, yes?¡± I said, tilting my head. I didn¡¯t slow in my stride at all, walking as if nothing could stop me. I was a winter breeze to the shivering leaves of my captains as they fell in behind me, same as Lusul. ¡°Speak.¡±


    ¡°We attempted to stop the dwarven Elder from withdrawing dwarven troops, but we were stopped,¡± he said carefully. ¡°It is a deepest failure on our part, and nothing can be done to remedy it but request your intervention. With the methods the Elder employed¡­¡±


    With the increased presence of Alacryan troops in Burim, it should have been simple to at least force subservience or threaten a battle that could not be won. Either Rahdeas was being extremely foolhardy, or he had information I didn¡¯t know about.


    I quested out with my senses, my gaze piercing the tons upon tons of rock and stone as it quested downward. Granite and metal and crystal failed to hide the world below from my sight.


    And I sensed it. Some sort of artifact had been masking it before, which was why I hadn¡¯t initially sensed it, but¡­


    I turned slightly, the only indication that I had heard the captain¡¯s words. Dromorth was precisely the kind of man I appreciated in positions of power. One who was willing to speak his mind, but was also subservient and aware of my authority. ¡°Olfred Warend placed himself between you and the dwarves, did he not?¡±


    The captain swallowed as my aura pressed outward slightly. ¡°Indeed, Scythe Seris,¡± he muttered darkly. ¡°We didn¡¯t know the former Lance was here in Burim, but¨C¡±


    ¡°Because he should not be,¡± I interrupted, feeling a rising sense of worry. Olfred should have been stationed in Vildorial alongside Cylrit, working together to ensure the city was bulwarked against assaults from the Lances. ¡°What, precisely, did Olfred do?¡±


    ¡°He demanded we bring you, Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± Dromorth said, shaking slightly under the effect of my aura.


    Most certainly a demand not from the Lance, but from Rahdeas, I immediately understood. This implies that he wishes to speak before he shatters our alliance, at the very least.


    ¡°Follow behind me from a distance, but do not approach unless otherwise ordered,¡± I commanded my captains, aware that this could shift to physical conflict quickly. My core churned as I lifted upward off the ground ever-so-slightly, before speeding through the tunnels.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to exit the Divot. As I hovered in the cavern, I felt compelled to sweep my eyes across the massive cavern once more.


    Stalactites hung like a thousand icicles all across the caverns, backlit by the constant glow of the lavaducts. The ducts themselves glowed with the heat of a forge as they carted the molten blood of the earth in ever-expanding arteries across the chasms. Those lavaducts hung from tough iron chains like men swinging from the gallows. Like a bleeding back peppered with a hundred wounds, the furthest reaches of the cavern wept streams of lava into the ducts, where the molten rock then flowed throughout the entirety of the dwarven abode.


    The platforms and bridges between, about, and through each stalactite were swarming with dwarves and soldiers as they darted about, shouting orders and in a general panic. I could see soldiers as they tried to usher civilians toward the exit of the cavern. The bridges were nearly overwhelmed with people as shouts and cries of confusion echoed everywhere.


    But despite this, my attention was drawn lower. The darkness of the Undercroft beckoned, two specific mana signatures flaring amidst the shadowed smog of poverty and despair.


    Rahdeas and Olfred Warend.


    I gathered my mana about me, my regalias close to activation. The burnished spellforms on my back tingled with warmth as I subtly prepared myself for combat. The dwarven Lance could not hope to match me in combat, and I doubted they had any scheme that could overcome my strength. But missteps were always made on assumptions.


    I lowered slowly like an angel of darkness, my dress fluttering and my hair flowing in the end-of-summer breeze. It took some time to finally dip into the dark smoke of the Undercrofts. The smog withered away where it touched my mana barrier, allowing me to pierce the gloom.


    The stalagmites of Burim¡¯s underground thrust up in a thousand different places like reaching hands, each finger of stone splayed in a vain attempt to meet their brethren on the ceiling. But just like the beaten and downtrodden, they would never see the wealth of the sky.


    I passed a few rickety shacks and wooden structures lashed to the stones in rotten timbers, feeling the terrified eyes of Burim¡¯s lesser folk as I descended toward their Lance and leader.


    Dozens of magma golems glowed like beacons as they herded the poor of Burim¨Cat least those who would listen. I could sense more dwarven soldiers scattered all about the Undercrofts, likely leading more and more of these poor folk in a mass retreat. Dozens of earth mages slowly conjured massive constructs of stone.


    Ships, I recognized. They¡¯re conjuring ships. And they have been for a few hours already.


    My eyes widened imperceptibly as I took all this in. This wasn¡¯t what I had initially thought. Already, I was factoring everything I was sensing into my assumptions. If Rahdeas were breaking our partnership, then what use would he have for pushing the poorest of the poor nonmages out? Or to make these great stone vessels?


    My aura pressed into the two of them. Rahdeas, of course, did not react. But Olfred Warend¨Cwho should not have been here, but in Vildorial¨Cstepped in front of his father as his mana flared. His beard bristled as his eyes flashed, a determined cast there even as his hands trembled.


    The initial anger and annoyance I¡¯d felt at my captains¡¯ reports had already deepened into growing worry that clawed at my gut. And as I locked eyes with the dwarven elder, that fear I¡¯d smoothed away earlier started to rear its ugly head.


    I let myself observe the shifting workers around me. Their panic. Their worry and fear. ¡°You did not inform me of this, Rahdeas,¡± I said, injecting my tone with a dose of skepticism and light annoyance. ¡°I know not what the¨C¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°We¡¯re activating the Rising Earth protocols,¡± the old dwarf said, interrupting me. Interrupting me. ¡°You will do the same with your troops now. There is no other option, Lady Scythe.¡±


    My aura flared, turbulent power wafting out at the presumptuous command of the dwarf. ¡°You presume to command me, Elder Rahdeas?¡± I asked, tilting my head. ¡°In Alacrya, men have been executed for lesser crimes than interrupting a Scythe as she speaks.¡±


    Olfred opened his mouth, his body trembling from my aura, but the elder stepped in front of him, pushing him back with a gentle hand. ¡°Not now, son. She doesn¡¯t see it yet.¡±


    The former Lance shifted at the word son, something akin to fear welling up in his features. ¡°Father, I¨C¡±


    ¡°What do you mean there is no other option, Elder Rahdeas?¡± I interrupted, feeling growing impatience. I did not allow my eyes to wander, but the scattered pieces of this puzzle were slowly forming in my head.


    The Rising Earth protocols were Burim¡¯s standardized response to lavatides as they rose from the deepest depths, coating the entirety of the Undercrofts in lava and burning all to cinders and ash. But the lavatides followed a predictable decade-long cycle, and they should not rise for another five years.


    So the Elder believes something just as catastrophic is coming, I reasoned, pulling together the puzzle. He isn¡¯t just trying to evacuate his dwarves, but Alacryans as well.


    For the first time, the dwarven elder looked me directly in the eye. His sole, good eye pierced me like a javelin. Not because it was misty with insanity and torture, no. But because it was impossibly clear. More clear than I had ever seen it before.


    Rahdeas slowly fell to one knee, his very bones seeming to creak as the once-bulky dwarf forced himself to kneel. The dwarves all around watched in confusion and worry as the bulky man prostrated himself before me.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t see it coming, Lady Scythe,¡± the dwarf said somberly, pressing his face into his hands. ¡°With Toren¡¯s actions drawing his sight inward, he never cast his glances to the wider world. They¡¯d left the Hearth long ago, well before Toren¡¯s quest, but¡­¡±


    I strode forward with purpose, inwardly aware of how all the dwarves about were staring with confusion at their elder. The Undercroft was silent as smog swirled like clouds after a great battle.


    ¡°He tried to forestall it, Seris Vritra. He sent what messages he could. To Spellsong. To the coming fire. But it is¡­ too late.¡±


    It fell into place with worrying swiftness. The itch in my stomach. The need to evacuate all from the caverns, even going so far as to use the Rising Earth protocols. The suddenness of it all and the out-of-character actions of the dwarf in front of me. ¡°What did the Lost Prince see, Rahdeas?¡± I demanded, my mana flaring. ¡°What must we run from?¡±


    Rahdeas raised his trembling head, looking at me with tears in his eye. ¡°Blood and fire, Lady Scythe,¡± he said with a trembling breath. ¡°Blood and fire.¡±


    And as he said the words, I finally felt the aura. It washed through the entire cavern, making the stones themselves sweat and my hair cling to my skin. It was like the scorching gaze of the summer sun as it beat down on you from above. Suddenly, I imagined I was not in the relative shade and coolness of the caverns, but on the surface of the desert as it bombarded me with flame.


    I felt that heat wash over and through me, making my mouth go dry. I could feel that being at the entrance of the caverns, their strength a palpable force that scalded my insides. Toren?


    It was almost like Toren. But this wasn¡¯t my Spellsong. This was more powerful than Toren, far beyond him.


    ¡°Foul Vritra!¡± a voice boomed through the entirety of Burim. The very stones rumbled with the star-pulsing power. ¡°Reveal yourselves now! I have come to wreak vengeance and fire for your crimes against all!¡±


    Chul Asclepius


    There was a fire in my core. A burning, undying, everlasting fire. It was hotter than anything I had ever known, and the very emotion burning me away. Even as I flew like an arrow over the sands of the desert, aiming due south, I could feel naught but that anger.


    The wind continued to whip and tear at me. The constant particles of sand and dust slammed into me like small ballista bolts, but I cared not as my quest drew me toward justice. Suncrusher demanded the blood of those who had lied to me, who had used the sacred name of my mother to ensorcell me in their putrid ruse.


    I had been foolish. Blinded by the hope of her name, I had been naught but an untrained whelp as I stepped into the trap of the vicious Retainer. It was only the keen eyes and heart of the Good King that had seen my body spared their machinations.


    I¡¯ll tear them all apart! I thought, tears streaking down my face as the winds drew them from my soul. Tears of weakness that burned. The tears of a child. They will all burn!


    The Good King had trusted in the Vritra, just as I had. And he had nearly been slain as well. Vicious, wretched serpents!


    I held back a pathetic sob of weakness as I continued on my flight, my hand grasping my chest as my heart twisted painfully. Vicious serpents, spearing your heart with fangs of hope.


    The voice came again. Muffled and indistinct, as if I were hearing it beneath a training haze with little water.


    ¡°Chul¡­ Chul¡­ You must¨C¡±


    The voice cut out for an instant, smothered by my wretched fury. I gnashed my teeth as Mordain¡¯s spellwork¡ªhalf a continent away¡ªprobed at my soul.


    ¡°Return. Do not take this pat¨C¡±


    I screamed aloud in rage, fire erupting around me. The heat of the flames burned the very air as my vision went red, the world buckling under my fury. The burning scoured away my Uncle¡¯s incessant voice, and the wriggling tendril of his sorrow turned to naught but ash in my mind.


    My bellow traveled like a war drum, the world warping as tears streamed down my cheeks again. Uncle didn¡¯t understand this, either. He¡¯d never understood. He was too cowardly. Too content to just rot with his clipped wings. And because he refused to do what was truly necessary, my flock faced a threat as great as the sky.


    The Vritra knew of our Hearth. The wretched Retainer had spoken of my mother, used her to lure me into his scheme. But that meant that somehow, Agrona Vritra¡¯s agents knew of my home. I knew, deep in my core, that my Mother would never willingly tell the basilisks of our sanctuary. Hers was the greatest will I had ever known. I could imagine no torture that would pry such knowledge from her heart.


    But somehow¡­ Somehow, they did. Which meant that even if Mordain demanded I return, I could not. Not until I wiped them all from the face of the continent. They all needed to die.


    I stopped in the air, my chest heaving in and out. I wilted, feeling my body curl in on itself.


    Keep your eyes trained forward, my young chick, my Mother¡¯s voice echoed through my head. If you stray, you will be struck from all sides. There are those out there who will wish to hurt you. But you are above them.


    I took those long-forgotten words, trembling. I wrapped and wove them like strands of silk, creating an armor of controlled rage. Those robes of red clung to my mind and soul, supporting me. Giving me purpose.


    Keep my eyes forward, I thought, staring south. I was almost there. Almost. They only wish to hurt me. They will fail in their quest. She is my armor, not my weakness.


    When I set forward once more, the unending fire in my stomach had not cooled, but it had become controlled. For a moment, I¡¯d mastered the flame as my mother had taught me, controlled and harnessed it.


    My wounds were already mostly closed. My mana core¡ªwhich had been nearing depletion in the wake of my battle with the despicable Wraiths¡ªwas close to full once more as I focused on mana rotation.


    I would not let myself be lured in once more.


    It was barely a few minutes before I finally happened upon the great southern sea. The desert cut off abruptly into sheer, steep cliffs, diving low into the crashing ocean far beyond.


    And despite the rage burning in my chest, I could not help but stare. The sea¡­ It seemed to stretch on forever. The sunlight glinted off of it as if it were reflective glass, glimmering like precious stones. The sky above it¡­ the late afternoon sun shone like a marvelous gem of fire above like a benevolent father. The waves rose and fell, shifted and weaved.


    I¡¯d heard stories of the oceans, of course. Epic tales and great poems of the endless trails of water that crossed this great planet. Aphora often painted the sea and sky in the Passage of Art, and I¡¯d always delighted in his craft. But still¡­ I had thought the unending sky to be the greatest expanse in this vast universe. When I had first stepped out of the Hearth, I had been taken by the majesty and royalty of the winds.


    But as the sea glimmered beyond those cliffs, I realized that the ocean held as much beauty as the skies.


    That is false, I thought after a moment, my jaw slack. It is together that they reach the peak of true form. Their beauty is driven ever further by their union. The line of the horizon is what brings this world true greatness.


    I stared at that line for a time, speechless even as the winds whipped through my hair. Is this why my Mother bore the title of the Dawn? I wondered. This could only be greater through the early morning sun.


    But then something oily and black intersected that beauty, like a tear in the parchment. A stack of thick smoke rose into the sky like a twining serpent. It hissed and chugged as it slashed dark blots of ink across the canvas before my mind.


    The enchantment on my mind fell away as I snarled, tracing that line to the defiant creation coasting the waters. Defiling them.


    The boats of the Alacryans. The ¡®steamships.¡¯ I had heard of them from those I had rescued from beasts. It was their malice and black lungs of belching smoke that kept the good people of Sapin contained from the west and north.


    When I am done with the Vritra-blooded wretches within, I thought, flying forward, I shall destroy every abomination I see. I will free these people of their tyranny.


    I floated down in front of the cavern, the sun warming my back as I stared into the cavern of the treacherous dwarves. I could sense them, too, darting about in panic and fear. The warmth of the star on my back was almost like my Mother¡¯s touch, compelling me onward. Telling me to keep my eyes forward.


    I floated into the cavern, Suncrusher held tightly by my side. I puffed out my chest with pride, my gaze daring any and all who stared to challenge me. I let my mana flow, professing my strength with utmost confidence.


    I inhaled deeply, tasting that smoke as it tainted my lungs. ¡°Foul Vritra!¡± I boomed, imbuing my voice with mana and making it travel further. Those words carried every mote of my vengeance, every spark of my desire. ¡°Reveal yourselves now! I have come to wreak vengeance and fire for your crimes against all!¡±


    I would not stoop to their cowardly methods. I would follow the path of my mother in confrontation. The skulking serpent would be found. I would burn away their taint.


    I floated further into the cavern, sneering. The terrified eyes of the fleeing dwarves and Alacryans washed over me, but they were not my quarry. Though I would punish the traitorous dwarves for hurting those good people of Sapin, they were not my priority.


    I settled on a wide, large platform, my twin eyes piercing the gloom as I stared about. The stone burned and sizzled underneath from the casual heat of my aura.


    ¡°Reveal yourself, foul beasts!¡± I echoed once more, stalking forward. ¡°No enchantment or faux civility will spare you Suncrusher¡¯s kiss. I have come for blood and fire! I bring the vengeance of all those burned in the fields of Sapin! The flames of the phoenixes wronged by your wretched taint follow in my wake!¡±


    A few spells flew toward me from panicked and confused mages. Bolts of fire, bullets of wind, and even a writhing sickle of ice. I felt something attempt to target the insides of my ear in a bid to upset my superior balance as the hail of spells approached.


    I snarled, then casually waved Suncrusher. Pillars of fire lanced down from on high, burning through Alacryan and dwarf alike in sizzling heat. My mace flew, shining like a captured star, before it obliterated any and all attacks coming my way.


    ¡°Hide not behind your soldiers, wretched Vritra!¡± I yelled, questing out with my senses as I stalked forward through the conflagration. The scent of burnt flesh and dying men reached my nose as I swiveled my head. ¡°Face me yourself!¡±


    Indeed, most of those I saw were those soldiers. Armed in plate or standard garb of an army, I knew they bore the sins of all who struck at those in the country. Dozens more lesser mages jumped from platform to platform. Mana flashed, forming shields and weapons as I was gradually surrounded. In shades of red, black, and orange of Darv and Alacrya, I was gradually ensorcelled by a web.


    I turned, my lips creeping into a sneer as I observed the many flashing eyes throughout the caverns. Indeed, the dwarves worked closely with the Alacryans. They perpetuated the massacres all across the countryside.


    I felt pain in my skull build as I remembered my endeavors for these past months. The constant death and destruction of every devastated homestead. The lives that I had failed to save as I traipsed through the fields and cornrows, trying to find anyone left living.


    The humans were naught but beasts for the slaughter as those with the accursed blood of the basilisks stomped them out.


    Hundreds were gathering, preparing their spells and their mana. It all roiled about me like a sea, but I felt no fear. These effects were paltry and petty. Even with my defective core, I would find no difficulty brushing aside these monsters like a fly on the wind.


    But still, no sign of the accursed basilisk-blooded one blared in my senses.


    ¡°Very well. If you wish for slaughter,¡± I yelled, raising my mace high as I siphoned mana from my core, ¡°then you shall have it.¡±


    Before I could bring down vengeance, however, something wrapped around my leg. I looked down, noting the creeping, red-hot rock as it began to seep upward.


    I shifted slightly, shattering the magma, but that had only been a distraction. I sensed the mana seeping through the stones around me, before something created entirely of piping-hot lava surged down from above. The golem hefted a massive hammer, screaming silently as it brought it down.


    I raised a hand, snarling as the air warped from the magma golem¡¯s heat. I caught the hammer, a shockwave of force radiating outward. I flexed, intending to crush the golem in my grip and tear it asunder. Before I could follow through, however, the construct of magma began to liquefy.


    The molten stone seeped along my hand, up my arm, and over my chest. I could sense the mana hardening it in a vain attempt to keep me contained.


    I snarled as spells began to fly inward, nearly fully encased. Cowards. They thought me trapped, prey amongst pack predators. But these sinful men did not know the fire I would wreak on their bones.


    Suncrusher pulsed. A simple, threading expulsion of fire that obliterated every incoming bolt of lightning, spear of ice, or tendril of water. The Alacryans could only blink in surprise and dismay as their attempted assault failed once more.


    I gripped my mace, feeling its warmth and heat. Feeling reassured. Then I threw it outward, guiding it in a roundabout arc.


    The dark weapon belched phoenix fire as it arced upward, smashing through the hanging daggers of stalactites all around. On and on it went, piercing and breaking and crushing every base of support.


    Boom. Boom. Boom. Guided by my intent and mana, my anger forced Suncrusher through every stalactite where soldiers rested. The entire cavern shook from each impact.


    And then the cracks resounded out. The soldiers¡ªonce so happy to try and pepper me with spells and death¡ªcould only watch in grim horror as their bases of support began to splinter and sway. I saw their fear, tasted their terror.


    This is for the good folk of the farms, I thought angrily, wrenching myself free of the hardening magma with ease. This is their justice.


    And then, like a rain of icicles amidst a winter storm, the stalagmites began to fall. Men screamed in terror as the darkness of the caverns below claimed them. The floor rumbled with the sound of crushed rocks as the stalagmites shattered against the bottom.


    Suncrusher whirled back to my hand, just in time for me to pivot on the stones and bat away another magma golem. ¡°Cowards!¡± I bellowed, calling mana from my core and strengthening my limbs. ¡°Know that hiding behind your soldiers shall not spare them my vengeance! You show your true nature in every moment you run!¡±


    More magma golems threw themselves at me, erupting from the ceiling and ground and every other stalagmite. Some tried to cling to me. Some swung hammers or tried to encase me in a coffin of fire. Others simply detonated like a bomb.


    I cared not for any of it. I stalked forward, tracing the summons to their source. I was inexorable, unbreakable, unstoppable. The golems tried to break the bridges, but I simply flew instead. They peppered me with slugs of molten rock, but my heat only grew. Soon, I was shrouded in a cloak of expanding fire. Every rock that entered my corona only added to its flames.


    ¡°Still, you hide,¡± I hissed. It had taken some time to sense where the magma conjurer was weaseled away. I was no earth mage, and this one was adept at hiding their signature. But amidst the smoke of blood and the fear of the Alacryans around me, I could finally pierce their location.


    Hiding in the ceiling, I thought with a sneer. Like a rat.


    I hefted back my hand, focusing on that far-distant mana signature. Suncrusher pulsed in my hands, desiring more blood.


    Then I threw her. She screamed fire as she soared like my Mother on the wing, ignoring any and all obstacles in her way. Half a dozen mana shields erected themselves out of nowhere to try and stop her upward flight, but they would not halt her.


    My mace slammed into the cavern roof, embedding herself there like an axe in a mighty oak. The force of the impact caused trembling quakes and fractures to spread through the rock, and then those cracks were suddenly alight with flames as heat surged from my weapon. It was akin to watching the smoldering coals of a campfire from on high as the very ceiling above breathed with heat. Magma and molten stone dripped down as the conflagration burned the stones.


    More stalactites fell like daggers, knocking aside those strange ducts of lava and tearing apart the iron chains. Magma splashed and flew across the army that was still struggling to respond, making them scream as the cavern trembled.


    I leapt, fire burning from my boots. My eyes focused into tiny pinpricks as I caught on my prey: a small dot of burning orange, backlit against the molten sky. They had barely escaped baking alive like dough in an oven from their nesting in the ceiling.


    One moment I was on a platform near the entrance to the cavern. The next, I was displaced by half a mile, my hand reaching out. The figure¨Ccloaked in armor of lava¨Cdid not even have the time to react as my hand wrapped around their helmeted head. My fingers crunched into the stone, sinking deep.


    ¡°A worm that flees the torrential rain,¡± I snarled, twisting on the wing. ¡°You only open yourself to the snap of a hawk.¡±


    I ignored the fool¡¯s struggles in my grip, the way the magma tried to seep over my waiting fingers like tightfitting leather. Instead, I hurled him like a stone toward the ground.


    He became naught but a streak of orange light. His armored form smashed through half a dozen thrusting stalagmites as he carved a furrow in the cavern floor. Smoke and dust rose around the crater he eventually made. Rocks crumbled from the broken stalagmites he¡¯d flown through. Some of them tumbled and toppled like felled trees, adding more resonant crashes to the pulsing of my heart.


    I flew down to my broken foe. Perhaps I would have spared him as much notice as the other fools who dared to try and stop my vengeance, but through the heat haze I had recognized this foe.


    Olfred Warend, former Lance of Dicathen. A traitor to the continent and to the good people who wished to live their lives in peace.


    The furrow carved in the earth was long and wide. I stalked forward, fire leaking between my fists as I thought of the Mayor of Men. The countless children and womenfolk I had failed to save in my quest across the plains. The dead and dying and bleeding that had followed in the wake of every beast.


    The beasts that these dwarves let in.


    ¡°I came to bring justice,¡± I snarled, staring at the shattered Lance. His armor had exploded into a million pieces, splattering the nearby wood and rocks with melted stone. Blood pooled around him, and he stared weakly up at me. ¡°And there is none more deserving of the hammer of judgment than you, Lance Balrog. Traitor to your people. Bringer of despair and death. You, who brought in the serpent to the healthy home.¡±


    The Lance inhaled a rattling breath. ¡°So¡­ different,¡± he wheezed, slumping with misty eyes. ¡°From Spellsong.¡±


    Spellsong. Both the Good King and the Wretched Retainer had spoken of this being; the one they claimed was followed by the ghost of my mother. It must have been a lie.


    I raised a hand, calling with my mana as I stared down at the broken fool. Suncrusher ripped herself from the ceiling far away, before blurring back toward my hand. I caught the mace with ease.


    ¡°I will find this Spellsong,¡± I snarled, hefting my mace high in preparation for the final strike. ¡°And I will demand truest answers from him.¡±


    The Lance coughed blood. ¡°Your Mother¡­ I thought I saw her once. A ghost as she¨C¡±


    I ignored the man¡¯s words, blocking out the sound. I gnashed my teeth. I squashed that urge to listen, to hear. I had been betrayed the last time I had left my heart open. The Wretched Retainer had nearly seen my death.


    The dwarf¡¯s mouth moved silently, but I did not hear it as I prepared to deliver the final blow.


    But then¡­ But then I felt it. A strange, otherworldly, almost familiar sense of mana. My eyes widened, and though I fought to shroud my heart from hope, I could not stop the painful squeeze in my chest.


    It is a lie, I told myself, my arm slowly lowering. She is not here. This isn¡¯t your mother. It¡¯s some sort of trick.


    It must have been, but¡­ But I could not stop myself from turning my head upwards towards that heavenly source. I couldn¡¯t stop her voice from coursing through my head in calming waves. I could almost imagine her soft, loving song as it caressed my ears. I could almost feel her reassuring hand on my shoulder.


    I ignored the dwarf, my eyes tracing upward toward the ceiling again. There¡­ near the portals. That was where her song beckoned.

 Chapter 275: The Sons of Eve

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Chul Asclepius


    The world around me seemed to fall away as that discordant song brushed my ears. The call wasn¡¯t mana. Not really. It was¡­ something more. A warmth that seemed to brush against everything at once.


    I ignored the rising smoke, the smell of burnt and charred bodies. All I could hear was that wonderful song.


    ¡°Mother,¡± I whispered, clenching my fingers around Suncrusher¡¯s handle. I rose back into the air, drawn by that warm fire.


    The platform was easy to find. It was warm like no other, empty as it was. Suspended by chains and almost adrift in that endless expanse of smoke¡­


    I settled down on the platform, staring at that central point where I heard my mother¡¯s call.


    This is another bitter lie, I told myself as I walked forward. It is a falsehood; a treachery of the Vritra.


    But what if it is not? I thought, feeling that ember of hope. I remembered how my mother¡¯s truefeather had sparkled, rekindling in the depths of the Hearth; my home.


    My footsteps carried me onward as my breathing began to fall more and more out of sync. Sweat beaded beneath my martial robes as I focused on the item that pulsed that song.


    It was a brilliant, white horn. Striations of orange-purple ran through it like life-giving veins, banishing the relative darkness of the cavern around me. Like a tempting knife, it thrust deep into the center of the platform.


    I quested out with my mana sense as I approached, seeking some sort of trap. But¡­ I found none. Even as I moved closer and closer, there was no inflection in the ambient mana, no shift in the world.


    And I finally reached that strange horn, the heat from it both there and not. It was almost overwhelming, in a way. It tingled at a sense I¡¯d never-but-always had, luring me in like a siren¡¯s call.


    I knelt slowly, reaching a hand out tentatively toward that little fire. The horn glimmered, like a single silver leaf atop the black of Charwood. The contrast was undeniable, unavoidable.


    And finally, I brushed my hand against that horn. It was warm, almost with a heartbeat. And I knew instantly, deep in my bones. My Mother¡¯s touch had graced this strange, asuran artifact. She had cared for it or loved it or¨C


    A click sounded along the ground. On instinct, I wrenched the horn free of the ground, trying to swivel to confront whatever had approached. But before I could even shift a single foot more, dark, dark chains of mana wrapped around me. They ensorcelled each of my limbs, trying to bind me tight. Between those chains, a plane of dark, corrupted mana crept like a smothering blanket.


    My eyes dilated as they focused on the strange item that had been tossed right beside me. An unfolded triangular pyramid pulsed with horrid decay as the chains flowed from its center.


    I strained against the barrier, siphoning mana from my dysfunctional core. Sweat beaded along my skin, but despite the utter force of the energy flowing from my core, I couldn¡¯t even force the barrier to shift at all.


    ¡°That is a force cage, Lord Chul,¡± a soft, serene voice echoed from the side. ¡°It is modified by my own design, incorporating more efficient draining methods than any others. The spell imbued uses your own mana to power it.¡±


    A snarl rumbled from the depths of my soul as my eyes flicked to the side. All the hope and fear and desire and everything was overwhelmed with darkness and fury as I took in the sight of the speaker.


    It was a wretched Vritra. Her light hair was a mockery of the silver vines of the Hearth. With skin nearly as pale as the horn I clutched and horns darker than the night sky, I knew this she-devil to be a Scythe. She strode forward slowly, circling me like a predator. And in her hands was a strange, anvil-shaped artifact.


    I could see naught but red fire. ¡°You dare!¡± I bellowed, pumping more mana from my core as I strained against the chains. They creaked as they dug deep into my skin, the decay-aspected mana making my skin wither and rot. ¡°I will tear off your horns and drive them into your skull! Lying, scheming witch!¡±


    The Scythe finished her loping stride, instead staring me in the eyes. She tilted her head as I continued to thrash and struggle, just¡­ watching. Savoring my utter humiliation and inner despair.


    I had known, deep inside. Known that it could only be a ruse, just as that Wretched Retainer had lured me in. And I¡ªlike a child who never learned¡ªhad fallen for it once again. Dumb, dimwitted Chul. Thinking with his heart and not his mind.


    I could almost hear Soleil¡¯s bitter, condescending scoff. I could feel my Uncle¡¯s wry smile as he shook his head in muted disappointment.


    ¡°Your struggling only further cements your trap, Lord Chul,¡± the Scythe commented, content to watch my burning anger and futile struggles. ¡°Force cages, by design, drain their targets of mana to reinforce their bindings. And I have¡­ improved on such technology. Far from enough to trap an asura, though¡­ But you aren¡¯t like every asura, are you?¡±


    Indeed, I could sense the verity of the fell woman¡¯s words. My core was weak and dysfunctional, unable to support the true capacity of my race. Already, the mana this artifact had siphoned from me only served to bolster these chains.


    Such a device would not have held any of my Clan, I thought, deep in the back of my skull. But you are broken. Wrong. Why else would this wretched basilisk win?


    My Mother¡­ She¡¯d always warned me of fell omens and false hope. And even as the warmth of her song radiated from my clenched hand, where the white horn still burned¨C


    It burned, I thought suddenly, keeping my furious intent on the Scythe as I recognized something. My Mother will not allow me to succumb.


    ¡°Try and slay me, witch,¡± I seethed, feeling how my core drained and my strength waned with every second I struggled. ¡°The moment you step close to kill me, I will have my vengeance. I will drive my mace through your skull and savor the feeling of your blood on my skin for your treachery. This barrier is nothing before my might.¡±


    The witch clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she took confident¡ªyet still wary¡ªsteps forward. ¡°You are mistaken, Lord Chul,¡± she said, settling within a few feet of me. She set down the anvil-shaped artifact on the ground. ¡°You came in here claiming to wreak vengeance and blood. But very few¡ªif any¡ªin this cavern have yet seen battle with the Dicathian forces. You swing your hammer against the wrong nail. The men and dwarves you slew today? They bore no crime other than being in your way.¡±


    I blocked out her words. All the Vritra spoke were lies and falsehoods meant to confuse and baffle.


    ¡°You used them as shields!¡± I echoed back, allowing my struggles to lessen. ¡°So deeply must you fear my mace, Scythe, to hide behind them all.¡±


    The woman adored the sound of her own voice. I would let her talk.


    ¡°You still think I wish your death,¡± the woman mused, tapping her boot against the artifact. It began to hum as it echoed with mana. ¡°Toren told me of your motivations, Chul Asclepius. I do hope that whenever we meet again¡ªhopefully under better circumstances¡ªwe can have a more reasonable discussion.¡±


    Something clicked and whirred, before a slight, shimmering pane of purple began to fizz into existence beneath me. A portal.


    ¡°After all, I know you wish to meet your Mother again.¡±


    I laughed. It was a deep, mirthful, hearty thing. Though my limbs were bound by treachery, I suddenly saw the path forward through the Vritra¡¯s lies. Never before had I felt such hate in my blood, such desire for vengeance. It took that emotion, wrapping it about my mind and core like a cloak.


    ¡°Such words will work no longer, basilisk spawn,¡± I taunted, tensing in preparation as that portal began to expand. ¡°The one in dark armor bearing greatsword tried such words with me before. But his treachery failed.¡±


    The portal stopped expanding as the witch looked at me, her eyes widening slightly. ¡°You met with Cylrit,¡± she whispered. I could see the schemes behind her eyes. Her hands flexed, and for once I saw the shift in her emotions as something cracked.


    ¡°I slew him for his treachery,¡± I snarled, funneling all my mana into my left hand. ¡°And you are within my range.¡±


    The daggerlike horn¡ªwhich the chains had tried and failed to bind¡ªflexed in my grip, pressing deep into the shroud of caustic decay. That single hole suddenly expanded as I funneled my energy through the horn, driving down and through. It parted like flouradine butter beneath a heated knife.


    Suncrusher slammed into the pyramid¡ªand it broke.


    The Scythe was already shifting, her movements suddenly far more frantic as she sought to imbue the portal artifact with more mana. A blade of darkness fuzzed into her grip just in time as I surged forward, swinging Suncrusher down.


    A shield of translucent black energy sparked into existence as I met her eyes, my face bared in a snarl of vengeance. A simple blow from my weapon cracked that barrier. Another shattered it entirely into a million black motes of energy. Those shattered remnants surged toward me, each becoming a tangle of graveyard mist.


    I growled as the flames around my body burned away the spells. That mist became naught but ash as it failed to penetrate my skin.


    But the Scythe was retreating backward, conjuring another shield about herself as she gritted her teeth. I saw something wild and dark churning behind her eyes as she prepared to fight me.


    I knew her type. The scheming, planning kind that thought to lay ruses all about the battlefield. My meager mana reserves were already drained from that artifact. I struggled not to heave for breath or show the tiredness in my shoulders. No doubt the witch thought she could outlast my core with those shields of hers.


    But I was a warrior of the Asclepius Clan. My wings would see me through any battle. My mind was keen for destruction.


    I blurred forward, a snarl on my lips as my mace slammed into her shields once more. It parted like mist beneath the morning sun, but the minuscule time it took for me to tear apart that barrier gave her the time to move again. The fires licked at her dress, and her eyes were blown wide with concentration and fear.


    She was floating downward, a black blade lashing out at me once more. It scored a few cuts along my arm before I could bat it aside, thick blood running along my robes. The Scythe flew upward, drawing my fury with her. The bare burns I had managed across her skin healed over with dark fire.


    ¡°Always, you run,¡± I seethed, sensing her uncertainty. ¡°But I will find you.¡±


    The Scythe could not outpace me, could not outrun my hammer. It took precious milliseconds to tear apart her shields, which gave her the time to zip away like an annoying fly.


    But there was a way to deny her even this.


    I tossed the horn into the air. In slow motion, it turned end over end, like a coin flipped on a wager of death. But no matter which side it landed on, it would come away with blood.


    My eyes met with the Scythe¡¯s as hers widened suddenly. In that space between heartbeats as the world seemed to slow, one bubble shield after another quickly began to fuzz into existence between us. One, two, three, four¡­


    But it would not spare her. As I twisted in the air, leveraging Suncrusher like an axe ready to fell a mighty charwood, I wanted her to know that this was for my Mother. That the blood I spilled was done so with purpose.


    I swung my arm. Suncrusher kissed the back of the horn for an infinite second, before it became less than a streak of light.


    A sonic crack echoed out through the silence. The white speartip flashed, phasing through each shield the Scythe conjured without a hint of resistance. That strange effect it had on decay-type mana arts granted it passage as it surged closer and closer to the witch¡¯s core.


    The horn sank deep, deep into her chest. It jutted from her sternum like a nail as she blinked in surprise more than pain. Blood sprayed across her dress as her constructs sputtered out. The Vritra looked down at her chest as she began to fall, uncomprehending.


    I was beside her in an instant. My hand wrapped around her pale, thin throat. I squeezed, cutting off her cough of agony into a ragged gurgle. Blood dribbled down her lips as I held her in the air.


    ¡°Impressive,¡± I snarled, squeezing as I threatened to snap her thin neck like so many twigs. ¡°You managed to shift to stop my Mother¡¯s horn from spearing through your core. But you have only doomed your heart instead.¡±


    I threw the Vritra-blooded thing down to the nearest platform. She offered no resistance as she tumbled, her body blackening in an expanding radius from that dagger piercing her heart. Blood trailed her small form in splatters with each tumble. She made no sound of pain as she finally rolled to a stop, red pooling beneath her.


    I tapped down a split-second later, fire burning in my veins. ¡°You will tell me all you know of Aurora Asclepius,¡± I commanded, marching forward. ¡°Then I shall shatter your horns and grant you death.¡±


    The Scythe weakly pulled herself to her hands and knees, one hand clutching at the horn still embedded deep into her heart. She coughed blood, convulsing as that cleansing decay spread. ¡°You¡­ You are a fool, Chul Asclepius,¡± she moaned. ¡°An asura, maybe¡­ But a foolish child.¡±


    I snarled as I finally arrived at her prone, weakened form. ¡°And you are a witch playing with the lives of millions.¡±


    I knelt, my hand reaching out as I prepared to finish this. But then¡­ Then I felt that heat. Like the horn still embedded in the Scythe¡¯s chest, but louder. Insistent. A war drum thundering with the demand of a star.


    I spun on my heel, my heart hammering in my ears with sudden need. Mana threaded along every inch of my body as I braced. I knew not from what, knew not how. But some deep, primal instinct in my blood told me. If I did not act now, I would die.


    Screaming, I swung Suncrusher upward. She guided me as much as my instinct, knowing that my life would be forfeit if I did not perform as necessary.


    Only a flash of white and searing heat greeted me, before Suncrusher met resistance. Time held no meaning for that moment as I stayed locked in combat with that spear of plasma. I feared the might of my Mother would fail me as the heat scoured away at my mana barrier, burning deeper and deeper. The surface of my arms were charred as that heat blackened my skin.


    But I refused to fall here.


    Through the sweat and stars and pain of my bones creaking, I heaved upward with my weapon. With a cacophonous boom, the spear of white, burning energy ricocheted off my mace.


    It surged upward like the ballista bolt of a godbow, streaking and burning a hole through the ceiling of the cavern. On and on and on it went in an eyeblink, melting a hole all the way to the sky beyond.


    I heaved for breath, my arms feeling as if I had performed one thousand repetitions of a straight punch. I whirled, ready to yell in challenge to whoever had interrupted my hunt. Whoever had hurled that beam of plasma at¨C


    Plasma, I thought suddenly, halting in the air. The mana arts of my Mother.


    It was not hard to find the one who had assaulted me. The sunlight from the desert far, far above streamed down like a halo onto their glowing, burning, pulsing form. Those heavenly rays glittered off their wings of crystalline mana like the sea I¡¯d seen not long ago as they hunched over the Scythe.


    His hair was the same red as my mother¡¯s. The same, impossibly vibrant shade. Like blood and fire dancing beneath a campfire as it swayed in the breeze. Familiar runes traced along his arms like feathers, burning against the darkness like the lava all around. I could not see his face, but I knew wing glyphs must have shone beneath his eyes.


    The Phoenix Will of the Asclepius Clan burned in this human¡¯s core, spreading its familiar insight all across his veins. A Will he should not have. Could not have. Unless¡­ Unless¡­


    I opened my mouth, closed it. Opened it again, then choked off a sob.


    ¡°The ghost of Aurora Asclepius follows him,¡± the Good King had said.


    No, I thought, feeling that hope I¡¯d carried for so long begin to smolder as its fuel started to evaporate. No, no. This cannot be.


    My Mother was truly dead: and now she was held captive within this being¡¯s core.


    Toren Daen


    The smoke and blood and dust and screams of dying men pounded in my ears as I knelt over Seris¡¯ body, my lifeforce burning in my hands in washes of dawnlight.


    ¡°Chul! My son!¡± Aurora said, rushing past me to try and talk to the wild phoenix. ¡°He is here, he is¨C¡±


    I couldn¡¯t hear my bond over the sound of my blood in my ears. Under the effects of Soulplume, I could see the spread of that inverted decay across Seris¡¯ veins in perfect, pure clarity. How the point of Inversion, digging deep into her heart, attacked and ripped at her black heartfire.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to fix this,¡± I said, forcing myself to try and be calm as I held the Scythe in my arms. ¡°My magic will fix this.¡±


    Seris only groaned, her pale, bloody hands clutching at the wound where Inversion still erupted from her chest. Her eyes were foggy and distant, not really seeing as they stared past me. That inkblot black pyre in her chest pulsed in abject agony as a virus of burning white slowly crept from the center.


    I ignored everything else. I didn¡¯t have time to question how any of this had happened after I¡¯d rushed back from the Hearth; after Mordain¡¯s sudden, searing message to my soul. That I needed to hurry before it was too late.


    My healing magic rushed along my veins as I stared down at the fatal injury. Need to remove the instrument; heal over the wound after, I thought, the surgeon¡¯s mindset I used creaking under the weight of the red blood coating everything.


    I looked into Seris¡¯ eyes, drawing on every one of our shared experiences as aether hummed between my fingers, calling on every shred of empathy I could. She seemed to suddenly focus as I began to call to her heartfire.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Scythe¡¯s bloody hand grasped my shirt, streaking it with blood as she stared mutely at me, a tapestry of broken quicksilver.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± I whispered, grasping the base of Inversion where it drove into her chest. ¡°Just listen to my heartbeat, Seris. That¡¯s all you need to do, okay?¡±


    A drop of blood dribbled from the Scythe¡¯s pink lips. I thought she understood.


    I started to pull Inversion from her chest. Slowly, painfully it raked across her ribs as it sheared through flesh. Her blood¡ªtainted with specks of dark lifeforce¡ªsizzled and burned away wherever the horn touched. In fact, the entire front of her body was blackening at an accelerated pace, but¡­


    As I slowly wrenched the white dagger from the Scythe¡¯s heart, I called to her lifeforce in tune. That dark energy flared as I used every shared event to seal over the cracks. Our shared idealism and desire for the people of this world to be free. The tentative touches and kisses we¡¯d shared. The uncertainty we both felt as our masks fell away.


    And she healed. As the bladed edge of Brahmos¡¯ inverted horn wrenched itself slowly from her chest, her tissue and muscle and organs sealed over. The blackened skin of hers gradually healed under her sputtering soulfire.


    As I finally hefted the dagger away, I heaved for breath. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I stared down at the Scythe¡¯s chest. The flesh was healed, certainly. No longer was there a gaping wound driving through her heart.


    My eyes widened as Seris limply grasped my shirt. Fuck! I thought, seeing inverted white specks dancing in the black bonfire of her lifeforce. Fuck, no!


    ¡°Toren¨C¡±


    ¡°Be quiet,¡± I admonished in a snap, recognizing what I was looking at. A living virus; an infection of reversed decay deep in her lifeforce. ¡°You¡¯re not healed yet. It¡¯s not¨C¡±


    But my words cut off as I suddenly choked on my breath. I heaved inward, a stream of hope and desire and love assaulting me from all sides, compressing inward from my very essence. The Brand of the Banished seared even hotter from where it pierced my soul like a hot nail.


    Aurora.


    It all suddenly rushed back to me. What exactly had been happening before I¡¯d hurled a Stake of the Morning. The crumbling ceiling of Burim; the smoke from the Undercrofts and scent of blood everywhere. Chul, my brother, looming over Seris¡¯ broken form.


    I¡¯d acted on instinct and sheer desperation as I¡¯d seen it, not thinking. Not comprehending.


    Chul is here, I thought suddenly. He¡¯s in this cavern, right across from me. My brother.


    I turned, my shrouded wings rippling as I locked eyes with Chul. The brand on my neck burned.


    His clothes were torn in a dozen places, revealing freshly healed skin. His lifeforce pounded like an orange-purple bonfire, just like mine. Its thunder drowned out nearly everything else.


    His eyes¡­ Each iris was a different color. Burning-coal orange and pure-lake blue. Phoenix and djinn, just like me. Just like Aurora.


    We were frozen there, staring at each other. The emotions radiating from Chul¡¯s intent were so full of pain and growing sorrow that it almost brushed away the rising fury pounding from my heart.


    He hurt Seris, I thought, grinding my teeth as we held each other¡¯s gazes. Mine burning and angry, his uncertain and terrified. I felt the urge to lash out and strike him for what he¡¯d done to the Scythe. Why did he¨C


    But the ghostly vision of my bond¡¯s shade tore me away from my thoughts of sudden vengeance.


    Her ghost stood before her son, her phantom hand outstretched. Burning tears streamed down her face, tracing lines like a firefly in the dark. ¡°Chul, little chick,¡± she begged softly. ¡°Look at me, please. I¡¯m here! Look at me!¡±


    Even as she blocked his sight, though, he never averted that shattering gaze from me. I could feel as something in his soul began to wither and break the longer he stared at me, tears welling in his eyes.


    Aurora sensed it, too. She knew what I could feel, knew all of me. A panic rose in her as she snapped her widening gaze back to me, the both of us coming to the same conclusion at once.


    He can¡¯t see our Mother.


    Lady Dawn¡¯s ghost turned back to her other son, something in her mind beginning to shift and creak in turn. A foundation that had been smashed on her banishment further listed sideways as her sole remaining anchor stared past her. Ignored her, as if she did not exist.


    As if she were dead.


    ¡°No,¡± Aurora whispered, her deep red hair seeming to lose more and more color. I could see as that vibrant feather-red became more and more pale, more and more lifeless. ¡°Look at me, my son. Please, see me.¡±


    She raised her phantasmal hand, the ghostly skin seeming far too sunken for a healthy woman. It inched closer and closer to Chul¡¯s face.


    My eyes widened. Some deep, instinctual sense told me. As the Brand of the Banished seared constantly in the back of my mind, it told me of this danger.


    I reached my hand out, calling with my soul and my mind. Aurora, no! You can¡¯t¨C


    She touched her son¡¯s face, looking and needing that connection. And all went white with pain. That spike in my soul expanded, rippling over my twin soul with little pockets of pinprick agony deeper than anything I¡¯d ever known.


    But while I collapsed forward, yelling in pain as something in my soul shuddered, it was nothing compared to what echoed from my mother¡¯s shade.


    She lit with smoke as she touched her son, the Brand on the back of her neck flashing. She screamed in horrendous, sorrowful pain as the very touch of her son burned her soul. The cry of grief and white fire echoed over our bond, making the cavern shudder and shake. My vision doubled before it could return to normal.


    My mother collapsed to her knees. She clutched her burned hand, the pads of her fingers smoking from where she¡¯d touched her son. I blinked, questing out to her with a tentative brush of support¨C


    ¡°I can hear her scream,¡± Chul muttered, never having taken his eyes from me, even as my Will flashed in and out. ¡°She¡¯s trapped, leashed. You¡­ You are her cage.¡±


    I opened my mouth, trying to work past the dryness in my throat. God, it was as if all the cotton in the world had suddenly been rammed down my mouth as the aftereffects of that pain in my soul made it hard to think. Hard to feel. Hard to¨C


    A gout of fire erupted from Chul in an omnidirectional wave as he screamed in sudden rage, his intent dipping with fury. I barely had the wherewithal to recognize the attack was coming.


    Seris, I thought, feeling my body creak into action. She¡¯ll be caught in the wave.


    I held the Scythe with my right arm, clutching her close to my body protectively as I shrouded myself with mana. I pulled my wings in as I held out my left hand, white mindfire erupting in a sheltering barrier as that heatwave approached.


    My mana was nearly instantly overwhelmed as I braced against the heat, clutching the Scythe close. The interplay of white flames and telekinetic force was pushed back under the sheer wave of orange, before it enveloped my hand and arm and traveled further up.


    I didn¡¯t even have time to scream as it washed over us, melting into my wings as I siphoned more and more mana from my core. I sweated through the howling bellow of the phoenix, my vision blurring as I hunkered down.


    And it was over just as fast as it had happened. I groaned, burns scarring my entire body as my heartfire fought to heal it over. My crystalline wings drooped as they melted, but Seris¡­


    She was looking in wide-eyed horror at my left arm. No, where it had used to be.


    Now there was only a charred stump.


    ¡°Seris, I¨C¡±


    Something smashed through my remaining feathers like a freight train, splintering and shattering them into a million glimmering shards. Somewhere in the distance, Aurora screamed.


    I flew from the platform like a broken bird, trailing smoke as I struggled to reorient and understand what exactly had struck me. I blinked through the searing pain as I stared upward.


    Chul was racing down after me, screaming in fury as he leveraged that mace of his, fire and rage shrouding his everything. He hefted it back, ready to drive it into my skull.


    The world rushed back into focus as adrenaline began to surge, as my fury began to burn hot and deep in my soul. Mana and heartfire pumped across my body, healing my surface wounds and repairing the shattered remnants of my wings.


    Veins of heartfire threaded from the stump of my left arm, the pain ignored as a shrouded arm covered the lattices of aether. My conjured fingers clenched as a saber grew in my right hand.


    I saw the murder deep in my brother¡¯s eyes. Saw the desire for blood and fire, piercing deep into my soul.


    I rolled to the side just before a stalagmite could drive through my back like a jutting spear. As I rolled, I lashed out with a saber of white plasma, severing the hundred-foot-tall spire of rock at the base. It cut through like a hot knife through butter, but I wasn¡¯t done.


    I grasped the spear of rock with my regalia, before outlining it with burning plasma. I snarled, then waved my shrouded arm.


    The spear of stone accelerated with a sonic boom, rushing toward the phoenix that sought my death. For an instant, he was blocked from my sight as the spike approached him.


    In that space between seconds, I landed on the ground. The heartbeats of thousands of terrified dwarves and mages and innocents thundered in my ears as they rushed for cover and fled for their lives. Far above, different hanging stalactites and platforms were beginning to fracture. Lavaducts hung askew as their iron chains melted through, dripping their contents into the Undercrofts far below.


    All the innocents here, I thought. They¡¯re all going to die. If I can¡¯t get him away, they¡¯ll all suffer!


    Soleil¡¯s words echoed in the back of my skull, driving the formation of my Shrouded Spirit about me as my heart beat. When asura fought, lessers died.


    Suncrusher smashed through the javelin of plasma-laden stone I¡¯d sent upward, shattering with a boom that shook Burim¡¯s foundations. Flaming boulders erupted everywhere, threatening to crash into the ground and extinguish more heartbeats.


    I screamed deep from my soul, a mindfire stamp erupting from the soles of my boots. My shrouded spirit pulled me through the sky like a javelin. I lashed out with my regalia as I ascended at hypersonic speeds, pulling every shattered stone under my sway as I sent them cascading inward like a collapsing gravity well.


    Chul didn¡¯t seem to care, bellowing with grief high above as he continued to fall toward me. Any chunk of fire-covered stone I sent his way was smashed by a swing of that mace. Broken by a martial style I knew, burned with techniques taught to me long ago. The cavern was awash with the sound of shattering stone and magic wildfire as the collateral spread hundreds of feet in every direction.


    ¡°It¡¯s only ever deceit!¡± he screamed, more to himself than to me. ¡°I am done listening! I bring you justice!¡±


    I zipped and weaved, my wings guiding me along as they seared through the dust and debris. My hand clenched around my saber as my eyes pierced the gloom. Instincts of a thousand thousand phoenixes of long past saw me through the storm of rock as Soulplume burned in my veins.


    Up and up I surged, my breath hot and my soul seared.


    And then we finally met in the middle. Suncrusher swung for my head, seeking to take it away as it pulsed with flames. I ducked around the blow, parrying it with my wings. The sheer contact made them burn, droop, and shatter, but I had already woven around Chul, swiping at his back with my shrouded saber.


    But the phoenix was not caught off guard. Far from it. He whirled about with a tornado of force condensed into a rising uppercut as fire coated Suncrusher.


    Rising Talon, I thought, recognizing the counter he was about to use. Mana thrummed along my body, my core aching from the suddenness of it. I grabbed the hilt of my shrouded saber with both hands¡ªone flesh, one shrouded¡ªand prepared to make good on the training I¡¯d done for the past month.


    I forced my heart to beat. For one, singular moment, Resonant Flow expanded my power. Ripped apart my limitations. Dawnlight burned from every wound and scar as my heartfire threaded through every vein.


    I swung my saber downward, screaming in tune with Chul as my spirit glowed with phantasmal light.


    My saber met Suncrusher. A shockwave erupted from the collision, rippling outward and tearing countless lavaducts from their iron chains.


    There wasn¡¯t even time to look each other in the eyes.


    Chul shot down like a burning orange comet as the world finally seemed to fall back into focus. I blurred upward, my shrouded arm breaking alongside the sound barrier. The pushback from the clash shattered every bone in my right arm, making it erupt with crimson blood.


    I didn¡¯t even have time to recognize that before I slammed into the ceiling, a crater larger than a house welcoming my body. I wheezed, something in my back breaking as my Shrouded Spirit cracked. Blood streamed from where I was wedged in the stone.


    My heartfire flowed from my already-tired heart, washing away my wounds as I pulled myself from the crater. My core¡ªthough it ached from the use of Resonant Flow¡ªwas far from exhausted.


    I gritted my teeth, my eyes tracking around the cavern of Burim as I was given this brief reprieve. The devastation from a few simple clashes had already made the many stalagmites rumble and creak in a way that forced my stomach into my throat.


    My eyes snapped to the platform I¡¯d been before. Seris wasn¡¯t there anymore. She¡¯d moved. She was safe, which meant¨C


    ¡°Toren!¡± Aurora yelled, suddenly manifesting before me. ¡°You need to stop this! You can¡¯t fight him!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t fight him?¡± I seethed, images of the devastation already spreading and the broken form of Seris flashing in my mind. ¡°What do you want me to do instead? Just let them all die?!¡± I yelled back, Soulplume hot in my mana channels.


    My mother grabbed my shirt with her burned hand, tears streaming down her face. ¡°Just don¡¯t fight!¡± she begged, her soul crying in a pain I could not comprehend. ¡°He¡¯s your brother, Toren! He¡¯s my son! He¡¯s the only family I have left!¡±


    And suddenly, the rising fury and bloodlust coursing through my veins was doused by the sorrow my bond felt as she wept into my chest. The events of the Hearth tumbled through my mind, burning in tune with that brand on my neck.


    I swallowed, my mind churning as I tried to think of some sort of solution. ¡°Aurora, I¨C¡±


    Suncrusher erupted from the translucent chest of my mother, before slamming directly into mine. I smashed back into the rock as my Shrouded Spirit cratered inward alongside my ribcage, bones fracturing and impaling my lungs. I wheezed, my eyes bulging as I was pinned by the weapon.


    A boot slammed into my face, pressing me further into the rock and crunching my nose. ¡°I will free her!¡± Chul yelled, rearing back with his boot again.


    A shrouded saber fuzzed into existence in my hand, lifeforce pulsing along its edge, before I swiped it at the phoenix¡¯s leg. It scored a deep cut, blood spraying. And as the lifeforce of my blade intersected the veins of heartfire in his calf, I tore.


    Aether streamed along my blade, rushing back into me as it was dominated by my heart. The sheer purity of it served to heal the damage in my chest near-instantly. While Chul buckled, grunting in sudden pain, I flared my regalia.


    A hundred tiny fists of telekinesis and sound appeared around me, slamming into Chul¡¯s body in a sudden, cacophonous eruption. Each of those sound spells traveled through his body, rebounding and compounding deep in his chest.


    Those spells would have turned any lesser mage¡¯s innards to mush, but I could sense they only knocked the wind out of the phoenix. He wheezed, his barrel-chest heaving as he floated backward.


    That was enough. I blurred forward, a shrouded arm regrowing as lifeforce flashed along its length. I slammed a nigh-ineffective punch into his ribs, imbuing it with heartfire. And as that damage reverberated through him, I pulled on his lifeforce at their intersection.


    The energy I siphoned served to heal me a little more, while hampering any recovery the phoenix might have made. I ducked under another wild blow that burned away my shoulder, before cracking him hard in the elbow. I sensed the joint fracture under my strike.


    And once again, we were zipping around the sky as we traded spellfire and our weapons flashed. Shockwaves and fire trailed all across the cavern as we flew, each of us bearing claim to the sky. My shrouded wings turned away a gout of phoenix fire, before I retaliated with a shallow cut to his torso that would never heal. I barely ducked the swipe of his hands, but a bit of the flames that left them left burns along my back.


    But Chul was beginning to slow already. I could sense it, like a predator on the wind. Every blow I landed, every bit of heartfire I siphoned? It accelerated an already exponential process.


    He might have been an asura. Might have been the strongest being I¡¯d ever fought, might have been stronger than me at the beginning of this battle. But the young phoenix¡¯s core was dysfunctional, held back by Andravhor¡¯s lesser physique. He was tiring, had been tired before our battle even began. And now every blow we exchanged left him more and more exhausted, while I was left invigorated.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your enemy, Chul!¡± I yelled, ducking around another wild sweep that trailed fire across the ceiling. More stalactites fell, carrying screaming dwarves and Alacryans with them. Tears blurred at the edges of my vision as the instinct to put down a threat to all those close to me warred with the grief and desires of my mother. ¡°Just stop and listen to me! I¡¯m your brother! Your mother is here; with me!¡±


    ¡°I have no brother!¡± the man bellowed, moving through half a dozen martial movements that nearly took off my head with each strike. As we dueled across the sky, both of us asserting our claim to the winds, my skull ached with every life lost from the shockwaves of our clashes. ¡°All I have heard is lies and deceit! I listen no longer!¡±


    I cursed as a stray bolt of fire-mingled plasma slammed into a nearby stalactite, searing through with casual ease. And in horrifyingly slow motion, the spire of earth cracked. Fault lines spread up the stone as it¡ªand a hundred others¡ªbegan to rumble.


    My eyes caught on those of a young, dwarven child as she cried, the platform she stood on creaking and warping. Someone familiar was holding her, whispering sweet nothings I thought I could hear.


    For an instant, the world around me fell away. My bloody duel with Chul; the cries of my mother as I tried to wear him down.


    ¡°Mother Earth will help you,¡± Barth said to the girl, holding her tight. The half-dwarf storyteller had always been joyous and upbeat. A true lover of life; a man who found beauty in everything. But as the storyteller¨Cwho had done naught but give happiness and fulfillment to all around him¨Ctrembled beneath the clash of titans far above, I felt something in me twist. ¡°She¡¯ll save us, little one. She¡¯ll¨C¡±


    I ignored Chul entirely, leaving him to drift away in the sky. My shrouded wings flapped frantically as I flew toward the cracking stalagmite, hoping against hope that I could save them. That I could stop the cataclysm about to befall those innocent souls.


    I shot forward like a streak of white, calling on my telekinetic regalia as fire coated my arms. If I could sear the cracks shut¨C


    It was only my constant training in the Beast Glades that saved me. With Sonar Pulse always active, that pinprick knowledge of approaching doom barely spared me from Suncrusher¡¯s whirling form. The mace belched fire as she whirled above my head.


    My shrouded spirit glistened about me like furious armor as I reoriented on my enemy. I thrust both my hands out, gathering fire and sound mana as Chul surged toward me, his hand outstretched.


    White plasma erupted from my hands, searing in a warping line. Chul barely brought his hand up in time, a mask of worry on his face.


    The monstrous phoenix blocked my white plasma. Blocked it, with a single hand. I could see his skin slowly blackening and burning as he roared, slowly being pushed back in the air. White embers flew everywhere from the splash of impossible heat.


    But it was working! I thought with gritted teeth, feeling my core strain. I was holding him at bay. I floated forward in the air, sweat coating my entire body as the mana hummed.


    Suncrusher whirled back, swirling toward Chul¡¯s outstretched right hand. At the same time, he clenched it in his fist, and his eyes gleamed.


    On instinct and desperation, I forced my heart to beat. Resonant Flow echoed across my weary body, my mana channels and veins growing as they allowed more flow. The white plasma erupting from my hands suddenly became a blinding flash as impossible power roared like thunder from my fingers. What was once the width of my torso became wider than a house.


    I was too slow. Suncrusher imposed itself between Chul and my assault. When the forces of mana and power collided, my attack rebounded off the spherical surface, carving a line through the ceiling of Burim. An inverted trench of molten rock revealed the sky hundreds of feet above as my failed strike sliced through the stone like a knife through paper.


    My mana sputtered out as Resonant Flow stopped after that single heartbeat. I listed downward, feeling pain deep in my mana core at my failed attack. White embers and molten rock dripped from the sky like rain, creating a strangely beautiful array of dazzling light and heat as the world seemed to slow.


    And then Chul was in front of me. His meaty hand grabbed my arm, crunching through my shrouded spirit and shattering my bones. But the pain wasn¡¯t just a physical thing.


    The very contact made the brand on my neck burn my soul. As one Banished, I could never afford to interact with those of my clan ever again. My body locked up as I yelled in horrid pain, my vision flashing white as visions of my Sea burning echoed across me. My mana failed me, every technique and bit of knowledge searing way.


    ¡°You steal the techniques of my mother, parading them about while you keep her caged,¡± he hissed, blood dribbling between his teeth. In his fist, Sucrusher¡¯s burnished surface gleamed. He raised his weapon, preparing to bring it down on my skull. ¡°It is a crime worthy of¨C¡±


    A flash of bronze soulmetal slammed into the young phoenix. Aurora¡¯s relic separated us, giving me barely enough time to avoid a fatal injury from Chul¡¯s mace. The massive avian construct whirred, pushing us apart.


    ¡°Chul, you are mistaken!¡± Aurora cried, molten tears streaming from her relic. White fire embers and drops of lava rain splattered off her body. Every touch of her relic and her son caused even more white-hot soulpain to reverberate through both of us. ¡°I am here! Please, stop! Think of the stars! Think of our stream!¡±


    My mother¡¯s relic batted away Suncrusher with her wing as she forced the half-phoenix into a nearby stalactite, pinning him with effort. Orange-purple smoke rose not just from her joints, but every part as the agony flashed through her.


    Chul thrashed and tore at the relic as she fought to keep him pinned. The sound of her voice seemed to send a fresh wave of misery through his intent, an agony that was as potent as any wildfire ripping through him as he heaved against her bulk.


    ¡°Stop fighting us, please,¡± Aurora begged, her heart breaking. ¡°I love you, Chul! Let us stop this madness!¡±


    Through it all, I was falling, that earlier soulpain still wracking every inch of me. But it wasn¡¯t just me that was falling. Stalactites across the entirety of Burim rumbled as my strike destabilized the ceiling. The heartfires of thousands screamed in a sudden bonfire, every single one crying out for salvation in a tragic song like icicles amidst a winter storm.


    And then they hit the ground, shattering into uncountable pieces as the very cavern of Burim roared with crushing stone. The earth heaved in response, the mana in the atmosphere twisting and churning far below as the shockwave traveled deeper and deeper.


    All those people, I thought, still falling. They¡¯re all¡­ They¡¯re all¨C


    ¡°Lies! Always, always more lies!¡± Chul bellowed, tears streaming from his eyes as he fought against his mother¡¯s restraining vice. ¡°Your deceit fails you, Living Cage! Your illusions and mockery of her voice do you nothing!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here, my son,¡± Aurora crooned, fighting through the blistering-hot soulpain as she pressed her beak to Chul¡¯s ragged face. ¡°Just¡­ please. Stop.¡±


    But despite his words and his thrashing, the bulky manchild slowed. The words of Aurora seemed to find their place as he began to weep along with her relic. His movements slowed, and the pain leaking across his intent told me everything.


    I finally, finally managed to even out in my flight. I struggled to think straight through the smog of decimated heartfire as earthquakes rumbled through the ground far below.


    ¡°This is cruel,¡± Chul whispered amidst the dearth of voices around us. ¡°Such illusions¡­ Why must they¨C¡±


    ¡°This is cruel?!¡± I snarled, clenching my fist as I glared at the manchild pinned to the stalactite. ¡°Do you have any idea how many people you just¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop!¡± my bond snapped, her head whirling on me. ¡°Stop fighting. I won¡¯t have my sons killing each other!¡±


    I recoiled, wincing as I hovered awkwardly in the air. My lungs were choked from smoke, and I was bleeding from a dozen burns. My skin was blackened and charred in too many places, but I didn¡¯t feel it through the adrenaline. My shrouded fist clenched.


    Chul didn¡¯t look much better. He bled from a hundred wounds, each of them unable to close because of my heartfire arts. His mana was nearly entirely drained from his system, his defective core burning out.


    Aurora slowly removed one talon. ¡°It¡¯s okay, my little battling songbird,¡± she said quietly, not even voicing the agony I knew coursed down to her very essence. ¡°We just¡­ We just need to talk. Like we always did in the Sunswept Glades.¡±


    The young phoenix didn¡¯t move as Aurora¡¯s relic pulled itself away from him. He looked¡ªhe felt¡ªutterly terrified and confused as he looked between the relic and me.


    ¡°I¡­¡± he started, looking ready to flee, ¡°I do not¨C¡±


    But then the cavern rumbled. I felt the shift in the ambient mana first, fire and earth meshing together with sudden ferocity. An earthquake rumbled through the mile-wide cave, shaking the Undercrofts and making stalagmites crumble.


    My eyes darted to the far edges of the cavern, where the lava that flowed from the ducts originated. I could sense it, somehow. Sense the buildup.


    Boom boom. Boom boom. Boom boom.


    It grew, like a heartbeat in the dark. The very pulse of Mother Earth began to increase, my dread and horror rising in turn.


    And then those slow, meager streams erupted, spraying lava all across the cavern with the force of a thousand jets.

 Chapter 276: Lavatide

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    It was like a volcano had erupted underground. The far wall screamed its vengeance and fury, a wave of heat making me shift in the air. A hundred streams of lava fifty feet thick spewed like geysers, the glow in the cavern banishing the dark.


    Our fight caused this, I realized immediately, sensing how the disturbed ambient mana shifted and changed. The rumbling sound of earthquakes and terrified heartbeats resounded in my ears.


    I barely had time to think as I took in the situation. Most of those heartbeats were already far away from the tide of lava, rushing toward the farthest walls. Evacuating.


    And on what platforms did remain of Burim, dwarves and my fellow Alacryans were working to conjure steps and bridges to allow an evacuation. Before I¡¯d even arrived, the entire city had been in a full-swing exodus.


    Visions of fire and plague flashed in my mind; of innocents overcome by my hubris. I remembered the utter devastation that swept away Fiachra as Mardeth enacted his plans. The scent of the smoke was just the same as it ravaged my nostrils, the gouts of splattering magma gleaming in slow motion.


    I remembered the times I¡¯d strolled in the Undercrofts, feeling the sorrow of the downtrodden dwarves. Seeing a struggle reflected across both continents and tore at my heart. And even high above in the Overcrofts where countless men and women worked to extend their lives or fight for what they thought was right.


    Soleil¡¯s Bloodtie slammed into my mind like hot coals pressed into a gaping wound. The aftermath of his duel with the Indrath, where those he sought to protect were burned away from the simple clashes of phoenix and dragon. The sheer collateral scale of it¨C


    The world rumbled again, magma flowing in a forty-foot-tall tide along the ground that continued to grow in height. It swept away every stalagmite it crossed in an expanse a mile wide, glowing with a vengeance as those heartbeats sought to escape it. It was loud; far, far louder than I thought it had any right to be. It was like the sound of a thousand train wheels on tracks. Rumbling and roaring and crushing in a way that drowned out even my thoughts. And it couldn¡¯t be stopped, couldn¡¯t be averted by any force of man.


    ¡°You must act!¡± my mother¡¯s voice surged through my mind and aloud, overriding the tumble of crushing stone. ¡°Toren, you must act! Do not freeze in fire!¡±


    I shuddered, snapping back into focus as I looked at the phoenix shade in her automaton. ¡°You read about this, Toren! You know what must be done!¡±


    My eyes snapped to the horrified Chul, then back to the ground. Priorities.


    I ground my teeth, then flapped my wings. Aurora was right. I had read about this. There were protocols in place for evacuation of all the folk of the Undercrofts, and¨C


    There.


    Through the terrified tremble of the heartbeats all about Burim, there was an anomaly. A group who, despite the clashing dance of white fire embers and melting rock from high above, had been acting.


    I blurred down in a streak of light as I noticed them. Rahdeas knelt over Olfred¡¯s body as it bled, surrounded by a dozen people barely past a panic. Distantly, I was aware of Jotilda, Lusul, and a few others as they shied away from my burning aura.


    All around us, arks of conjured stone sat ready, many filled with terrified dwarves already. Once the lavatides reached this point, they¡¯d be swept up and carried along toward the sea.


    My glimmering wings reflected the light as I stalked forward, the ambient mana flexing and warping around me. I released Soulplume, unwilling to strain myself unnecessarily, but everyone still parted for me as if I were the lavatide.


    Before I was even aware of it, I was moving towards Olfred¡¯s broken body. His normally well-trimmed beard was stained with blood, and his eyes were glassy. As my heartfire pierced the smog around us, I found the familiar act of healing someone gave me a place to work from.


    ¡°Rahdeas,¡± I said sharply, forcing my attention to center on the dwarf even as the chaos all around demanded otherwise. ¡°What can I do to help?¡± What can I do to fix this devastation I caused?


    The one-eyed dwarf¡¯s misty eye tracked back to me, seeming impossibly clear. I wondered if this was what people felt when I stared at them in the depths of my Second Phase.


    ¡°There are still many who haven¡¯t made it to the arks,¡± he grunted without preamble. He stayed kneeling, even as Olfred¡¯s body slowly knit back together and burns sealed over. ¡°That¡¯s what you need to do. Clear a path for them, Spellsong.¡±


    I turned around, ready to rise back into the sky as I readied my wings.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Rahdeas said quietly, still cradling the body of his son. His intent¡ªwhich had always been distant and empty¡ªsuddenly felt focused. It was raw like an open wound. ¡°He didn¡¯t foresee this. He didn¡¯t¡­ could never have understood this was what was coming. Not until it was too late.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth. Are you talking about Mordain, or yourself? I thought, but did not say.


    I bent my knees, gathering my power as I flared my wings. My muscles burned as mana coursed through their cells, my fullest intent gathered into ascension.


    And then I leapt, shooting into the smog-filled and suffocating air.


    Aurora, I thought, my mind finally cementing into something more analytical as I swept my gaze across the caverns, get that wretch moving! We don¡¯t have much time!


    ¡°Do not insult him!¡± my bond hissed back. ¡°And he will act! Just do your part!¡±


    Distantly, I was aware that Chul¡¯s weakening mana signature was dipping down to the northern parts of the Undercrofts.


    ¡°He is not a monster, Toren!¡± Aurora replied in anguish, her Vessel Form flying after Chul. Presumably to direct him and instruct him. ¡°Stop calling your brother¨C¡±


    He isn¡¯t my brother! I snapped, feeling the lingering soulpain that had made my very Sea sizzle and burn. He¡¯s a murderer.


    I gnashed my teeth as I observed the distance between the lavatide and the majority of the Undercrofts¡¯ people. Now that the blood in my veins had cooled somewhat, it was easier to see that this entire place had been undergoing evacuation and preparation for some time.


    It¡­. It wasn¡¯t as bad as it could have been. I needed to remember that, didn¡¯t I?


    Rahdeas¡¯ words seeped through my mind. He couldn¡¯t have understood this was coming until it was too late?


    Hypocrite.


    I shut away my connection with Aurora for a moment, ignoring the surging pain as I used my rising anger as a focus. I needed to listen, to be able to hear the people I needed to save.


    For an everlasting moment, I let my senses expand. I felt every drop of crumbling dust as the caverns rumbled; felt every bead of sweat and blood along my temples as the cloying smoke and darkness of Burim focused in on me. The endless slew of death and dying heartfires clogged my ears, but I couldn¡¯t focus on those. I fell into my Acquire Phase, feeling my sense for lifeforce surge and¨C


    There.


    My attention oriented toward the south as I sensed a larger gathering of fleeing dwarves. With a simple flap of my wings, I was already a streak of white light.


    I skidded to a halt in front of the group, noting their terrified and haunted eyes. In every gaze and trembling heartbeat, I saw another East Fiachran devastated by the plague, another innocent dying in that initial attack on Burim.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to clear a path,¡± I grunted, making sure my voice could be heard with my sound magic. ¡°There are arks to the north. Just run in a straight line.¡±


    I didn¡¯t have time to say anything else. I whirled on my feet, gathering my magic as my Regalia fed information to me. With a wave of my hand, a thick beam of red plasma burned holes through the stalagmites before us, clearing a path most of the way to the arks.


    I didn¡¯t stay. Already, I was in the air again as I searched for more heartbeats.


    I felt like overstretched putty as I blurred across Burim at hypersonic speeds, darting from one group of terrified dwarves to another. Sometimes I needed to tear apart rubble to free those unexpectedly trapped. Sometimes I needed to apply a quick healing. Sometimes I had to tell grieving loved ones to save themselves, because that was all that was left.


    Through it all, I felt something in me slowly seep away like a lost word in a heat haze. I thought I¡¯d lost my innocence after my first battle in this war as I¡¯d fought with the dwarven rebellion to take this city. But the smoke of burned bodies and lifeforce seeping into the ground smelt the same as those in Soleil¡¯s Bloodtie.


    Time became a blur as I zipped all across Burim, doing my damndest to save all I could. High above, Seris¡¯ magic flared here and there as she organized the Overcrofts in relief efforts.


    But only the asura could battle the mountains themselves and emerge victorious. Eventually, the crawl of the lava reached the arks, lifting them up and carrying them towards the exit. In contrast to how monstrous and devastating the molten stone had been in tearing apart the stalagmites, the boats rose along the tide in an almost gentle way, like a mother lifting up her child.


    I heaved for breath high above from where I watched, feeling half-delirious. My mana regenerated at an absurd rate between Aurora¡¯s feather and my constant use of mana rotation, but I was still running low.


    I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of burned flesh and sulfur. I exhaled anger and despair.


    ¡°Help, please!¡± Aurora¡¯s voice shattered the mental barrier I¡¯d constructed between us. ¡°Please! I need your help, Toren!¡±


    I blinked away my exhaustion, sensing my bond¡¯s distress. I immediately traced her to the northern parts of the city, right where the lavatide was strongest.


    I immediately set off again, the ambient mana hauling me forward. I was starting to feel the charred stump of my left arm at last as my heartbeat rose, fear and dread taking hold once more as I surged toward my mother¡¯s call.


    I saw them. Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form was burnt and charred, the bronze soulmetal drooping as it sheltered Chul. The half-phoenix was shaking from backlash as he covered someone from falling rubble, working in tandem with Lady Dawn¡¯s avian form to hold off a hundred tons of stone. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He¡¯d seared his wounds shut, considering the bulky son of Dawn had been unable to truly heal them. But their existence had clearly taken their toll on him. As the young dwarven child raced out from under the rubble, stumbling away, I knew instantly that neither Aurora¡¯s relic nor Chul had been able to brace for what was coming.


    Because behind them, the lavatide was a tsunami of molten rock as it splashed down, swallowing both in its massive gullet. The last thing I saw before those teeth snapped shut was Aurora¡¯s begging, begging eyes.


    And Chul¡¯s? They were Norgan¡¯s as they looked up at me.


    Then they were gone, subsumed and drowned in the stone. I could sense Aurora¡¯s relic curling around her son, desperately trying to protect him despite the burning of her brand. But that weight, that power would crash back in eventually.


    I screamed in rage and fury, the air warping as I slammed into the earth a hundred feet away like a comet. I focused on my core, energy flowing around me. My heartfire revved in my chest, my body coiling like a spring as I focused on all the insight I¡¯d absorbed these past few months, on all the power inherent in my body and soul. I fell into Soulplume, the world around me slowing as I faced off with this calamity.


    Give me power, Aurora! I demanded, blood streaming down my face as I gathered every inch of mana I could. Give me power!


    ¡°Toren,¡± she whispered, something broken in that voice as it traveled to me. I could almost feel her relic slowly melting as she struggled to protect her son from death. ¡°I¨C¡±


    ¡°Give me power!¡± I screamed, settling into a wide stance. I pulled on that feather in my core, sensing somewhere in this fugue state how it granted me mana. ¡°That¡¯s what you promised me, isn¡¯t it?! So give it to me!¡±


    And mana began to flow from that feather in my core. A torrent surged under my pull, finally able to move as this fraction of insight granted me more understanding.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    All of Aurora¡¯s potential and insight, all of her mana? It was there, compressed in her soul in some way. Bottled up like a star that I could never exhaust. That constant energy had pushed me from the dark orange stage all the way to white, but still, it was not exhausted. Barely a fraction of that solar mass of mana had ever been touched.


    But I had a direct conduit to her spirit deep in my core. The feather pulsed, burning brightly from my demands. As more and more mana flowed through my core, my body ached and burned as the buildup of telekinetic force around me made the very air warp. But it built, just like my rage throughout this entire tragedy.


    White fire and shuddering sound joined the growing spell, but did not become plasma. No, that was not my intent. That wall of molten rock approached, undaunted as it mocked me. Every sparking ember and extinguished heartfire told me that everything I¡¯d ever done was for naught. That it was all a failure.


    I remembered failing to stand in the Hearth as I burned like a star, the rock around me drooping and melting from the sheer proximity. I remembered Norgan¡¯s death, of failing a brother once.


    I engaged Resonant Flow, then snapped my fist forward.


    The cavern seemed to quiet for a moment as the world forgot what should be happening. Colossal amounts of mana heaved like the scream of a god. Fire, shuddering sound, and interlaced pure force silently thrust forward like a spear.


    The lavatide split. Like Moses parting the sea, the very expanse of molten rock was cleaved clean in two as the power thrust through it. Each side rose eighty feet in the air in defiance of natural law as my surge of pure power screamed, obliterating anything that didn¡¯t dare bow. A sound like the detonation of a bomb interlaced with my rabid scream echoed through all of Burim.


    And then, the natural laws reasserted themselves. A catastrophic rumble and splashing slammed into my eardrums as my vision swam.


    Because it wasn¡¯t just the lavatide that split. My core had, too, with a nauseating fracture that seemed to reverberate through my body like a sound spell. My senses flashed in and out. Mana, sound, sight¨C


    Aurora screamed in terror. Terror for me.


    But I wasn¡¯t done.


    Blood dripped from my teeth and my core burned as I engaged my Regalia again. I blocked out the pain as fracture marks raced along the surface of my core, my pained heartfire working to seal them over even as I used more mana.


    Chul¡¯s body surged from the smoking earth, outlined in white alongside the molten remains of Aurora¡¯s relic. My control flickered out like the flashing light of a bulb as the cracks in my core spread. I winced, blood streaming from my mouth.


    Chul fell as my grip on my Regalia flickered in and out, dropping toward that lava again.


    No, I thought, forcing my aching heart to seal over the fractures in the snow-white expanse of my magical nexus. I won¡¯t let him die.


    I reasserted control before he hit the ground. I fell to my hands and knees as the lava began to crash back in like the jaws of a titan. Nausea wracked every inch of my soul as I laid Chul¡¯s body across a floating platform of rock coasting over the tide.


    I slammed my eyes shut as Aurora¡¯s panicked terror and worry washed over me. My senses swam as my core finally healed back over in motes of orange-purple. I heaved, vomiting blood onto the sizzling ground.


    I could feel it. All of it. All the death today tainted the very world in a smog of mourning heartfire. In that brief instant where all my mana senses had wavered like a flickering lightbulb, I¡¯d been able to taste it all the more.


    ¡°You foolish, foolish child!¡± Aurora yelled, her phantom arms hauling me up to my feet. ¡°I should have never let you leave! I should have never let you use such arts!¡±


    Norgan is safe, I thought back to her, barely conscious. My soul felt like the head of a flail, slammed against metal over and over and whipped about without care.


    The rumbling curtain approached us as Aurora¡¯s shade pushed me up. She was covered in burns. Why was she burned? ¡°Fly, my son, fly!¡± she demanded, forcing me to stand with her strong arms.


    ¡°There,¡± Aurora said, forcing me to turn. Her arms were so warm as they held me. So strong, even through her pain. ¡°There is a platform atop the magma! Go to it now, Toren. Now!¡±


    I didn¡¯t have the energy to argue. My thoughts were a slurry as I lurched toward that waiting platform where Chul¡¯s body rested as well, noting the many boats of refugees further away as they coasted along the magma.


    They were safe. I¡¯d done it. And now I wanted¡­


    I wanted to rest. I wanted to just¡­ lie down on that platform. To give up and let it all continue without me. I¡¯d done my part, hadn¡¯t I? Everything, I¡­


    I fell to my knees with a groan as I hit the rock, before immediately collapsing forward. The last thing I heard before I finally lost consciousness was Aurora¡¯s choked voice as her strength ran out.


    Seris Vritra


    ¡°Secure the teleportation gate!¡± I snapped, flying past a few divisions of soldiers as they worked to extract victims from the rubble of the Overcrofts. The ambient mana burned all around us as people screamed, but this wasn¡¯t enough to sway my course. ¡°It cannot be broken!¡±


    I whirled in the air, my eyes searching as I quested for the next place that needed my guidance. In times of war and catastrophe, people flocked to the closest pillar of support and stability. So as Toren and that wretch clashed about the skies, I reorganized and stamped discipline into those still struggling in the Overcrofts.


    I felt Toren¡¯s mana as he blurred about the cavern, but not that of the other one. That was good. That meant my Spellsong was victorious.


    I found my next target quickly. Another stalactite was cracking and unstable, the looming spear close to falling into the ocean of fire below. There were mages on either side, but they weren¡¯t organized enough to save themselves.


    I flew forward, wincing at my abnormal heartbeat. My mana core pulsed as I siphoned energy across my limbs, flying through the dust and debris to the cracking stalactite.


    Then I lurched in the sky as that white, inverted energy spread from my heart. I gasped from the pain, barely adjusting my flight as it danced across my veins like poison. I crashed into a spire of earth instead of the lavatide as I clutched at my chest, heaving for breath. My fingers clenched as they dug into the stone, anchoring me there as dust caked my once-pristine dress.


    Like an insidious virus injected via a syringe, my very heart delivered that strange anti-decay all across my limbs.


    Every time, it comes back stronger, I thought with growing fear. That inverted decay has taken root.


    And I was running out of mana. I needed it now. I could not afford to run dry.


    Instinctively, I reached out with my mind, grasping at the ambient mana as I huddled in that crater. It was difficult. No, nigh impossible. The act of hovering slightly made it all the more difficult to draw in the energy, seeing as I was engaging my mana veins.


    I gnashed my teeth. It doesn¡¯t matter, I thought, pushing onward. I¡¯ve contemplated the theory of this for years. It should be possible.


    Something shifted in the back of my mind as my heart beat painfully. Finally, the mana flowed into me, rushing toward my core. And blessedly, the energy began to purify.


    It was difficult. My exhausted psyche ached with the trifold act of drawing in the mana, purifying it, and using it to suppress the infection in my heart.


    But I forced the mana to flow into me and toward my core, purifying it as I hovered in the crater. I held it, commanded it.


    Sweat beaded on my skin as I called on my healing factor. Soulfire sputtered around me, my skin sizzling with dark steam as I meticulously suppressed that spread.


    I compressed it back and back, battling it as a battalion of soldiers threw themselves at another. And finally, my blood was tainted no longer.


    I looked up, heaving for breath as I stared at the stalactite I¡¯d sought to save. Those cracks had spread even further, nearly all the way through. Only a few seconds were left until it finally fell. Maybe thirty, at most?


    I quickly ran the calculations as I watched a young dwarven child scream for their mother across the gap. My heart fell as I recognized the truth.


    Not enough time.


    I separated from the stone, turning my mind and heart away from those along the platforms. I needed to prioritize who I could save logically. This was another puzzle I needed to complete.


    Behind me, the sound of the rock shearing and breaking echoed. Screams begged for salvation, then went silent in a crash as the lava absorbed them.


    I moved as I could, directing people and acting as a guiding light. Even as Toren blurred about far below in streaks of orange light, saving all he could amidst the Undercrofts, I was already preparing for the aftermath of this.


    Burim will not be able to support our station after this, I thought as Captain Dromorth delivered a hasty report about the teleportation gate¡¯s destruction. The infrastructure is too damaged, but we do need the teleportation gates. We¡¯ll have to restation in Vildorial.


    ¡°What are we to do next, Scythe Seris Vritra?¡± Captain Dromorth asked, kneeling before me. His small glasses were askew and cracked. ¡°Casualties are still being assessed, but a sizable portion of our mages are still at the ready.¡±


    I gave it a millisecond of calculating thought. ¡°Secure the docks,¡± I replied. ¡°We will need the mobility of the sea soon, and I suspect our steamships are what will see us through this devastation.¡±


    If aid and relief were to be delivered to this city, it wouldn¡¯t be by teleportation gate, but by our expansive network across the ocean. Cylrit should be able to¨C


    The phoenix¡¯s madly determined eyes flashed in my skull again. He¡¯d mocked me, claiming he¡¯d slain Cylrit.


    Cylrit. My Retainer, ever stalwart and¡­ always there. It had been seven hours and forty-three minutes since I¡¯d last heard from him. He should have reached out to me in case something had gone wrong in his meeting with King Arthur. I should have heard something.


    I should have heard something. He always spoke to me. Was always there. He¡¯d never just¡­ ignore me or let my requests for communication go distant.


    ¡°Scythe Seris?¡± Dromorth asked again, still kneeling. ¡°Are we to¨C¡±


    A rumble went through the ambient mana. Like a heartbeat. Once. Twice. I stumbled from the sheer force of it as my eyes went wide. Toren?!


    It was like a hammer striking a gong. A sudden, impossible flow of mana made my teeth ache as it erupted like a popping balloon. I opened my mouth, trying to say something, but the sound didn¡¯t travel. My vision fuzzed for a moment as worry took over my mind.


    I stumbled to the side, only vaguely aware that, far away, the lavatide itself had split. Like a butcher¡¯s cleaver slicing into waiting flesh, something had scythed through the magma itself. I stared in awe for a moment, mutely fascinated by the display of scintillating power.


    Toren, I thought, nearly toppling as the wave passed and sound slammed into my skull. Toren¡¯s still fighting that monster.


    I stumbled off the platform I was on, determination raw in my veins as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. I knew not what I could do to help my Spellsong, but I could assist in some small way. My shields could halt Chul¡¯s advance for an instant of time, and he no longer had access to Inversion to so easily pierce them. Together, Toren and I would not fall.


    But as I hovered over the lavatide, my eyes roaming for the man I called my own, I felt panic rise deep from my stomach. I couldn¡¯t see him. Just dozens of stone boats as they floated over the tides, gradually exiting the cavern¡¯s massive teeth.


    ¡°Toren!¡± I called, my voice raw and desperate as I spun in the sky. ¡°Toren, where are you! Speak to me!¡±


    Nothing. Only the rumbling of the magma as it slowly exited the cavern¡¯s mouth. He didn¡¯t fly up to me and smile, brushing this off as just another time he¡¯d risked his life. His last smirk burned in my skull as I clenched and unclenched my fists, anger warring with terror as I fought to keep my masks in place.


    He cannot be dead, I reasoned. His bond would not allow it. He lives, Seris, just as Cylrit does. He is somewhere here. You must reassert yourself and your control.


    I took deep breaths, forcing my panic into a small, tiny box as I methodically swept my eyes across the magma. My heartbeat evened out as I assured myself of my goal.


    And I saw him. A floating platform of rock¡ªslowly melting as it drifted lazily toward the exit¡ªstood starkly against all the others.


    He wasn¡¯t moving, and from this distance, I couldn¡¯t tell if he was alive. But that didn¡¯t matter. As the platform slowly drifted outside of Burim¡¯s cavern, I surged forward, hoping against hope.


    I need to get him before it falls! I thought quickly, feeling the wind as it tore away my tears.


    All the other boats had measures in place to protect themselves from the transition from magma to water. They would float well enough, denying the waves their due. But as that platform slipped down towards the water, I knew that if I were not fast enough, my Spellsong would drown.


    I blurred out from Burim, ignoring the open sky and the hateful sun as it beat down on me from above. A wall of steam rose from the dance of magma and water, obscuring my desperate sight for a moment and costing me precious time.


    Toren¡¯s platform finally reached the water, sinking and letting its contents drift into the boiling ocean.


    I snarled, my fingers rigid as my masks fell. I shot down toward the water, emboldened and suddenly furious for a reason I could not understand.


    I barely had time to brace before I slammed into the ocean. It was hot, boiling hot. I felt my skin redden and heat from the contact as I blurred for Toren¡¯s body. My dress flared about me like a dark shroud as I surged down, ignoring the pain.


    And I finally grasped his limp form. Finally, finally, I wrapped my arms around his broken and beaten body. I surged upward, clutching him close as I breached the water.


    I heaved for breath as water streamed off us, my silver hair clinging to my neck. Toren¡¯s right arm hung like the bough of a willow tree as I held him close, his shallow breathing brushing against my neck. Weak as it was, it soothed the tremble of my heart.


    He was alive.


    My attention drifted downward as I saw another figure in the boiling water, desperately trying to swim toward a nearby shelf of rock. The one who had caused this entire tragedy desperately pinwheeled his arms as he pushed himself, his mana signature not even detectable from how weak the asura must have been.


    As the sound of sizzling steam echoed around us, I savored Chul Asclepius¡¯ struggle to reach the docks as he fought against the current.


    He did finally pull himself up onto the earthen docks, though. Sopping wet, heaving for breath and coughing to push the water from his lungs, he looked like a wet dog rather than a terrifying warrior as steam rose off his muscled body. His orange-red hair clung to his face as he blinked, seeming confused and disoriented.


    Then he finally raised his head, blinking blearily up at me on his hands and knees. I hovered above him, feeling like much of a drowned beast myself. But as I raised my chin in utter disdain, I knew myself to be the one in power.


    The phoenix trembled, coughing blood. I felt a cruel smirk stretch across my face as I clutched Toren tighter, watching Chul suffer.


    Twenty. Nineteen.


    The phoenix glared up at me with undisguised hate, each of his eyes burning with the heat of the lavatide just behind us. I knew that if he could still move past the innumerable wounds across his body, he¡¯d happily tear my skull from my shoulders.


    ¡°Release¡­ Release the human,¡± Chul wheezed, trying and failing to move. ¡°And I will¡­ spare your life.¡±


    Fifteen. Fourteen.


    I didn¡¯t respond immediately. I simply watched, counting down the time inside my head as my heartbeat evened out. ¡°You will spare me?¡± I asked, tilting my head. Those words of his were vain and filled with useless pride. Such an asuran thing to think. ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand, Chul Asclepius.¡±


    I slowly lowered in the sky, just out of Chul¡¯s reach as he groaned. He tried to push himself, tried to lash out with an arm. But he failed, only winding up scratching his hands against the stone.


    Seven. Six. Five.


    I counted down the seconds more as I watched the beast struggle, enjoying it in my own way. After all, the dead of Burim would never get to savor it. It wasn¡¯t a sin to indulge once in a while. ¡°The only one who will beg to be spared is you, asura.¡±


    One.


    The timer in my head rang. And just as predicted, Chul Asclepius¡¯ movements slowed. His core¡ªbarely skirting around backlash¡ªgave one, final heave. And as if a coup de grace, the bastard¡¯s eyes rolled into the back of his skull.


    His head finally crashed against the stones as he fell unconscious. My vindictive grin slowly fell away as the world around me rushed back in.


    I exhaled a deep breath as I observed the defeated phoenix, trying to slot this into my understanding. Why had he attacked us? Toren was supposed to be endearing us to the Hearth. Was there some sort of¨C


    Toren¡¯s body trembled, shaking slightly in some sort of seizure. My attention refocused as I remembered his state. I needed to get him to emitters and see to his medical attention. He was clearly in a state of backlash, and from the heat of his skin, I worried that a fever had taken him, too.


    I turned on my feet, preparing to fly to the other end of the docks. There would be healers waiting on the ships to tend to the refugees, I knew. They would take Toren as their top priority, and we could twist this disaster somehow to support our cause.


    But I froze as my eyes trailed along the glimmering sea. It sparkled and shone in the late afternoon sun, dazzling in its beauty at any other time. White, misty steam rose into the sky like the breath of the clouds where water met magma, creating a screen of white.


    But something else mingled with that white. Far away, dark smokestacks thrust up into the sky from an approaching fleet of Alacryan steamships. They stretched nearly as far as the eye could see, and I found myself astonished at how I¡¯d missed them before. Agrona¡¯s war machine had finally reached Dicathen as he prepared to deliver the final blow.


    And at the head of the fleet¡ªhis mana signature blazing like a dark bonfire, sensible even from here¡ªwas Scythe Nico Sever.

 Chapter 277: Lavatide

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    I had no time to waste. The moment I saw the steamships on the horizon, I was already moving. I barely spared the unconscious asura another glance.


    Nico¡¯s mana signature boiled like the sea next to me as the ocean smothered the magma¡¯s warmth. I internally calculated the distance as I ground my teeth, feeling a chill working through my drenched body as the warmth left me.


    The worst possible time, I seethed internally, holding Toren¡¯s body close. They chose the worst possible time to arrive.


    I¡¯d known that this fleet was coming, had expected it for the past couple of weeks as the High Sovereign finally stopped holding back and decided to push for victory. But Burim was still reeling from the devastating fight between Toren and Chul. Already, this could prove devastating to my hold on the continent if I didn¡¯t act fast. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They¡¯ll reach us in twenty minutes at minimum, I thought, gnashing my teeth as I stared at the approaching fleet. Thirty if I¡¯m lucky.


    But luck was not something I counted on. Luck was a fool¡¯s hope.


    I chanced one more glance at the unconscious asura, my gaze cold as I debated my next course of action. I needed to ensure my hold on Burim was clear. If I played my pieces right, even this devastating loss could be played as a victory. I just needed to shift my pawns across the Sovereign¡¯s Quarrel board correctly.


    My eyes focused on the opposite docks as I started assembling this puzzle in my mind. I floated weakly toward the opposite docks, feeling another squeeze from my core. They were bustling with activity like a swarm of bees as dwarves shouted and clamored to be heard and saw to the refugees. The stone boats were methodically pulled to shore with grappling lines, allowing the folk of the Undercrofts to stumble to relative safety.


    When the dockworkers sensed my approaching aura, they froze. Work and recovery halted immediately as haunted eyes focused on me and my horns, and then on the limp body in my arms. The clamor and bustle quieted as the scent of fear and worry overtook all.


    Toren would know what to say to these people to draw them together, I thought, observing them from above. But I am not Spellsong.


    I knew I must look like a devastated mess, all grace and poise washed away in the ocean. Still, I kept my chin slightly raised and my gaze serene as I searched for one specific man amidst the clamor.


    Finally, I found who I was looking for. Lusul Hercross was with the wounded Jotilda Shintstone as he stared mutely up at me, his eyes glassy.


    ¡°Return to your work,¡± I ordered, allowing my voice to carry as I flexed my aura. ¡°It is not done.¡±


    Haltingly, the workers seemed to remember what exactly they¡¯d been doing. The tragedy and destruction had not stopped, and neither could they. I distantly remembered an old-fought battle with Scythe Kelagon as I watched these frazzled and battle-shocked civilians struggle to pull what was left of their lives together.


    I drifted down, exhaling softly. I marched forward, forcing my poise and resolve to bleed into every mannerism. I was Scythe Seris now, and these men would draw strength from my surety as much as anything else.


    ¡°Lord Hercross,¡± I said, drifting toward the second son of the Named Blood. He froze, snapping a wary, hesitant salute as his eyes focused on the body in my arms. He didn¡¯t even kneel, showing clearly how exhausted and confused he must have been.


    ¡°Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± he said, his lip trembling in tune with his legs. ¡°How may I serve you?¡±


    Strong boy, I thought. He¡¯s grown into his leadership in the short months he¡¯s been stationed here. Too many men have already buckled.


    I walked closer slowly. The man took a hesitant, fearful step back, but when I focused my onyx eyes on him, he froze.


    ¡°There is a body on the far docks,¡± I said quietly, my voice smooth and even. Only this young man would be able to hear it. ¡°Take only those you trust and recover the man there. Cover his features, and ensure none see you act. Deliver the body to my rooms in the Divot as soon as possible, bound and chained. Be as discreet as you would be with your lover on these docks.¡±


    My eyes darted dangerously to a young woman not far away as she worked to usher refugees from the stone arks. When I looked back at the Hercross¡ªwho was no longer shaking¡ªI was certain my implicit threat was clear.


    Lusul swallowed, unable to meet my eyes. ¡°As you command, Scythe Seris.¡±


    I nodded slowly. That was one problem addressed for the time being, but it was far from the last. Scythe Nico would be arriving shortly, and I could not afford to meet another Scythe looking like a drowned rat.


    I turned, suppressing another wince as my heart pulsed painfully with inverted decay. I rose slowly into the sky, passing the curtain of rising steam as I floated back into Burim. The pungent smell of sulfur and destruction suffused my nostrils again as I reached the Divot. Smoke clung to me like a suffocating blanket, and only Toren¡¯s steady warmth served to push it away.


    As I rose back toward my central headquarters, I gave a few more orders to those still scrambling for direction, but my mind was elsewhere. Already, I was calculating a way to spin this in my favor and how to play it to the powers-that-be.


    Toren had grown again. In only a month and a half, he was holding his own against an asura. An exhausted, disabled, and childish asura, true. But an asura.


    He¡¯d completed the puzzle I¡¯d given him. But the pieces only brought blood and fire.


    Beyond even this, Chul had been a fool to announce his clan name. I could spin this in a way to avoid implicating the man in my arms too deeply, but if it tied back the Asclepius Clan¡­


    Something went wrong with Toren¡¯s efforts to convince the Hearth, I realized with a sinking, dreadful sensation in my stomach. Even as I settled onto the Divot¡¯s landing platform, I found something in my chest settle lower. Like a stone drifting to the bottom of a lake, I felt my hopes plummet ever deeper.


    I exhaled a deep, weary sigh as I stood on the empty platform for a moment, my thoughts blanking for a second. Then I strode forward again. I was a Scythe, and the world wouldn¡¯t stop moving to give me a chance to think.


    The Divot was strangely silent. Like a mausoleum of the dead, each step I took forward and through the passageways made me feel as if I were being watched. The click of my heels and the twist of the mana as I drew it in for purification were the only indicators that this place was not a tomb.


    This place was unaffected, was it not? I wondered, feeling a creeping sense of dread worm its way through my mind as my steps reverberated around me. Looking about, I could see cracks lining the walls as the lighting artifacts flickered. It was designed to grant the nobles of the Overcrofts the greatest safety possible. Surely¡­


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    I strengthened my body with mana, keeping my shield regalia close in my mind as I strode into my rooms. I swept my gaze across the place I¡¯d called my respite for months, noting the familiar chairs, bed, and desk.


    They appear untouched, I thought, my fingers twitching on Toren¡¯s body as black mana particles buzzed around my fingers. But there is a scent in the air. A haze.


    I walked forward slowly, each step careful in their cadence. Despite the bone-deep exhaustion pervading every cell in my body and my strained mana core, I was still a force to be reckoned with. If King Arthur had sent assassins¡­


    No, I thought, sensing that looming, dreadful presence in the corner of the room. No, this isn¡¯t an act of King Arthur.


    I gently set Toren down on my bed, allowing him to finally rest. My gaze drifted over his soot-stained and damaged body, feeling a painful pang of d¨¦j¨¤ vu as I remembered a calm night months ago where I¡¯d finally allowed hope to burn.


    I would need to change my clothes soon. My dress was drenched and in tatters. A clear cut showed the pale skin over my heart where I¡¯d been stabbed with Inversion, and dust clung to me like rot as it stained my image. By my approximation, Nico¡¯s flagship would be here in ten or so minutes, and while the city was a smoking ruin, I wouldn¡¯t allow myself to appear as such.


    I moved to my desk, affecting a composed air. I knew what presence had made the depths of the Divot feel like a graveyard. I had not felt true fear before. I was a reaper. The graveyard was my domain.


    But the tower of black metal that seemed to mesh with the darkness itself was a greater bringer of death than I ever had been.


    Of course. If Nico Sever was here, why wouldn¡¯t his minder?


    ¡°Cadell Vritra,¡± I said, not turning around. ¡°I would have prepared a better welcome for you if I knew the Hand of Agrona had arrived.¡±


    The chill in the air seemed to steal more breath from my lungs. ¡±You have failed,¡± Cadell¡¯s deep bass voice rumbled from those shadows. ¡°The High Sovereign¡¯s City¡ªwhich was entrusted to your protection and stewardship¡ªis a ruin.¡±


    My mind flicked from plan to plan at mach speed as I stared forward, drawing out the silence. Cadell¡¯s words weren¡¯t a statement, weren¡¯t a question. They were a threat.


    I didn¡¯t know when he had arrived. During the attack? After? Had he sought to stay low? How much did he know?


    Cadell being here means that Agrona¡¯s attention is truly focused on the endgame, I thought. He¡¯s pressuring me as his first tactic. Forcing me into a corner. Why?


    ¡°An unforeseen variable interfered here, as you can no doubt sense,¡± I said simply, but my words were tainted with the strain of those thoughts. Chul Asclepius. That wretched child. ¡°As great as you are, Cadell Vritra, I suspect even you would face difficulty were you in my place.¡±


    More silence. ¡°You dance and talk your way in circles, Scythe Seris,¡± Cadell said coldly. ¡°Say your words clearly.¡±


    I turned around slowly, carefully avoiding looking at Toren¡¯s body not far away. The Scythe of the Central Dominion, thankfully, didn¡¯t spare him a single glance.


    Cadell never changed. The strongest Scythe¡¯s horns absorbed the light as they thrust like javelins towards his jaw. His hair was a curtain of bone as it stretched to his back, his black plate armor reflecting no light at all. Corpse-blood eyes bored into me, threatening to pin me to the floor.


    I can¡¯t afford to reveal too much about the Hearth, I thought. Nor what Toren knows. How do I¨C


    ¡°Speak,¡± Cadell ordered, his aura expanding slightly as it pressed into my weakened form.


    I tilted my head, putting on an unamused and unaffected air. ¡°A phoenix,¡± I said. ¡°An asura touting ¡®justice¡¯ and ¡®vengeance¡¯ assaulted this cavern. Through a combination of deception and battle, he no longer plagues us. Truthfully, I don¡¯t know if he retreated on his own, or was driven off. But the aftermath is clear for you to see.¡±


    Cadell showed no inflection on his steel gray features. No surprise or consideration about my words. ¡°And you lived through this?¡±


    I ignored Cadell, imbuing mana into the ground beneath me. The crystal turned slowly translucent, revealing the lavatide far below. It would continue to flow for the next few days. ¡°I wonder¡­ if you had been deployed earlier, perhaps this would not have happened, hmmm?¡±


    I raised a skeptical brow as I observed Cadell, watching for any hint of a reaction. And finally, I garnered one.


    His eyes turned to Toren¡¯s weakened body. My heart froze.


    ¡°Spellsong is the only reason you¡¯re alive, considering the difference in your states,¡± he said, his grinding voice scraping at my bones. ¡°He fought. You fled.¡±


    He took a step forward, the shadows seeming to follow and converge around him. The clank of his greaves on the stone sent tremors through my weakened physique as he approached Toren¡¯s bedside.


    I stepped forward in turn, imposing myself between Agrona¡¯s Hand and Toren. My mana core squeezed painfully as I stood like a sentinel, turning up my chin to the monster.


    Cadell stopped. He looked my body up and down in a peeling, unnerving way. It wasn¡¯t a lustful thing, like many had dared to do before I put them in their place. No, this was the look of a gladiator scrutinizing fresh meat.


    The Hand of Agrona was a tall, tall man. He was the sort who was used to using his height and imposing figure to intimidate those lesser than him. Taegrin Caelum¡¯s shadow trailed with him, and that was a height all on its own. At that moment, I felt I had stared up at mountains with lesser stature than the carved block of empty steel before me.


    He wanted me to be afraid. Of this, I was certain, even as I stood in the mountain¡¯s rainshadow like a willow tree stripped of all its bristles.


    ¡°If you continue to flex your aura like that, it might disrupt Spellsong¡¯s recovery,¡± I said, affecting leisure as I locked my hands behind my back. It was a gesture of utmost composure, but I used the time to ensure my fingers were not trembling. I raised a silver brow. ¡°Do you want to do that, Cadell?¡±


    There wasn¡¯t much that could be gleaned about Agrona¡¯s personal enforcer, but I did know some. I needed to play my cards carefully. ¡°If you want a fight from him, you¡¯ll need to wait until he¡¯s recovered. It¡¯s been some time since you¡¯ve ever seen challenge.¡±


    Cadell slowly leaned forward, his shadow long and dark as it swallowed me whole. I could make out the ridges of his horns as his gray features of stone stood barely a foot from mine.


    ¡°What makes you think that I want to waste my time with a half-dead lesser in a sickbed, Scythe Seris?¡± he enunciated slowly¡ªbut there was a question laced within it. Not a rhetorical kind. For the first time, it seemed that Cadell was asking for my opinion.


    That was dangerous.


    I exhaled through my nose. ¡°I¡¯m talking to you right now, Cadell. Dragonslayer, they call you, for putting down a half-dead asura in the Beast Glades. Now we have a rising Phoenixslayer¡ªand this was a battle to behold.¡±


    Cadell was a being of iron and unyielding stone. So how much could I afford to push? The Scythe didn¡¯t respond immediately, contenting himself with searching my eyes.


    ¡°You see much, Seris. Indeed, I think I understand why you¡¯ve been placed as you are. I have met no others who are so much akin to our master.¡±


    I clamped down a shudder at Cadell¡¯s words. When he rose back to his full height, I could almost imagine the rumbling of stone or the twist of an avalanche reasserting itself. ¡°But Spellsong has much left to accomplish. And still, he has yet to truly embrace his power.¡±


    The way the Scythe said it made warning bells ring in the back of my mind. I¡¯d suspected¡ªno, I¡¯d known¡ªthat the High Sovereign was deeply invested in Toren¡¯s growth. He¡¯d set us both loose from the Central Cathedral. Like rats being released from a water barrel onto the streets, he was following our progress in some way.


    ¡°Spellsong will continue to grow in strength,¡± I said simply, focusing on this avenue. ¡°Perhaps even strong enough for what is coming, hmm?¡±


    Cadell smiled. His teeth were whiter than his hair, and I once again felt the encroaching questions and fears I always kept suppressed crawl across my mind like skittering insects.


    I¡¯ve never seen this man smile in the fifty years I have been Scythe, I thought nervously. The hungry smile made my hands clench from where they were clasped. The High Sovereign wants Toren to grow. To what end?


    ¡°This war will be ending soon, Scythe Seris Vritra,¡± Cadell said slowly. Deliberately. ¡°Our High Sovereign has laid the pieces he needs, and it''s time to finish this once and for all. And at the vanguard, you will be leading our forces across the continent.¡±


    I nodded slowly as Cadell¡¯s words seeped through me. ¡°I was placed on this continent initially because of my war experience,¡± I said, forming the syllables with utmost care. ¡°And considering I have the strongest personal hold over Darv, it is most logical.¡±


    I tilted my head, frowning slightly. ¡°But what of Scythes Viessa and Nico? Am I to collaborate with them?¡±


    ¡°Nico will be under your direct command,¡± Cadell said simply, turning away. ¡°How you use and direct the reincarnate is up to your discretion.¡±


    I felt a quiet sort of dread as I absorbed this information. I had promised Toren a chance to slay Nico Sever, but if the Scythe were under my direction, then shifting blame and directing any assassination away from me became far, far more difficult.


    ¡°And Viessa?¡±


    ¡°Is not your concern,¡± Cadell replied sharply, marching away. The shadows around him flexed and blew like wind. ¡°Win this war for your Sovereign, Scythe Seris. That is your order.¡±


    Win this war.


    I closed my eyes, trying to stop myself from collapsing into a heap. I felt that darkness rise. Not of my blood, but of my mind. I would finally see battle once more, and the one who kept me in check¡­


    Cadell vanished like void wind, leaving me struggling to stand upright in my own rooms. I felt Cylrit¡¯s absence like an open wound as the monstrous phoenix¡¯s words flowed through my mind. I was melted candlewax that had splashed against the stones, but there was nobody to scrape me up and mold me back into a decent shape.


    My lips trembled as I opened them, visions of my Retainer flickering like the shadows of my dead rooms.


    I wouldn¡¯t even have time to change.

 Chapter 278: Revelations

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    I winced with every laborious step. My body¡ªstill aching over half a day since my battle with the Wraiths¡ªprotested every shift.


    But my mind was clear. Terribly, horribly clear.


    ¡°Reports say that Burim has been struck by a lavatide,¡± Alanis Emeria said, her blue eyes, rimmed by a ring of pink, flashing. She mechanically shifted through half a dozen communication scrolls in her hands as she followed after me. ¡°The true extent of the aftermath is inconclusive, however.¡±


    The elf¡ªwho had devised my training regimen and had a stickling ability to organize things¡ªcontinued to robotically list off what was known about the Rogue Hero¡¯s attack on Burim. She had been an invaluable asset in restructuring my information divisions. With her objective and orderly mind, I¡¯d been able to truly take control of every speck of knowledge flowing throughout Sapin and Elenoir.


    I suppose I have that phoenix¡¯s name now, I thought darkly. Chul Asclepius. Not the Rogue Hero.


    ¡°What word do we have on the surviving figures of the Alacryans?¡± Sylvie demanded, marching in furious lockstep with me.


    ¡°It is likely that the Scythe, Seris Vritra, yet lives,¡± Alanis replied simply. ¡°Multiple sources claim she was seen in the aftermath of the clash between the Rogue Hero and Spellsong. Whether the Hero or Spellsong survived their battle, however, is another matter. In the same vein, the former Lance Balrog may also have perished.¡±


    Alanis shifted her blonde hair slightly. ¡°Keep in mind that our reports are rudimentary. Many are contradictory or confused as well. This is all speculation on my part based on the available pieces.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Alanis,¡± I said sharply. ¡°You are dismissed.¡±


    The elf bowed, her hair drooping over her face. ¡°Of course, King Leywin.¡±


    She walked away without the barest change in her steps. I¡¯d learned long ago that I needed to be explicit in my commands and orders with the woman. She did not comprehend implicit social cues.


    ¡°This is bad,¡± Sylvie said, fidgeting with a lock of her wheat blonde hair as we continued to walk toward our destination. ¡°You were so close to working something out. For Virion to be healed, before that brute charged in and ruined everything.¡±


    I kept my eyes forward, receiving nods of respect, reverence, and awe from the servants and guards we passed. The whispers of ¡°King Godspell¡± and ¡°Commander from Epheotus¡± rang through my ears, but I filtered them away.


    Sylvie¡¯s anger was palpable as her aura radiated from her, dark wisps of energy sparking and popping with the force of a nascent asura. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides as she trailed me. She tried to restrain her emotions over our bond, but it was impossible.


    ¡°Nobody could have predicted this,¡± I assured my bond, sensing her quiet guilt. ¡°The phoenix intentionally laid those trails for you to follow. And none of us could have guessed his intentions with the information we had.¡±


    Hell, we didn¡¯t even know the ¡®Rogue Hero¡¯ was a phoenix until I¡¯d sensed his flexing of power. The mage had some sort of artifact that made his asuran signature hard to detect, but my manasight had pierced it once he¡¯d revealed more of his power.


    ¡°But our only chance to see Virion healed is gone,¡± Sylv snapped. ¡°All because I couldn¡¯t track down this¡­ this foolish child!¡±


    My thoughts were immediately drawn to Cylrit, barely healed by Sylv¡¯s arrival. He was currently locked in the deepest of our dungeons, far from conscious and shackled to a bed. I would have wished for better accommodations, but the only place in the castle that could hold the Retainer was the deepest levels.


    Indeed, any chance to negotiate with Seris Vritra died with her Retainer¡¯s capture. I knew war, knew the sanctity of a parlay. And regardless of the circumstances, our parlay had been broken. Shattered.


    The Wraiths that waited to assassinate Chul, though¡­ I suppressed a shudder as I remembered my battle with them. Were they only there for Chul? Or had they been tracking me, too?


    Agrona is escalating this war. In response to Taci? Sylvie? Or just to put down that phoenix?


    ¡°No,¡± I said quietly to my bond, still thinking these things over and over. ¡°You can¡¯t blame yourself for this, Sylv.¡±


    Sylvie bit her lip, looking away from me as she did so. ¡°It¡¯s just more death,¡± she whispered, halting in her steps. ¡°I just don¡¯t want more people to die, Arthur. It¡¯s¡­ I just want to make a difference.¡±


    I stopped, turning to look at my bond as she stared at the floor. She retreated slightly from our mental tether, but I knew a hint of what feelings coursed through her being.


    ¡°In Epheotus, Grandma Myre told me why we protect the lessers,¡± Sylv said, clearly uncomfortable. ¡°We asura¡­ we were once like them, in ages long, long ago. Before time even had a name, we were lessers. That¡¯s why the dragons are supposed to be your guardians, so you can one day find your ascension. But nothing I do has helped anyone.¡±


    My bond bit her lower lip, her golden eyes downcast. ¡°The massacres always happen everywhere I¡¯m not, and my vivum arts are never enough, even as they progress in power. I¡¯m supposed to be an asura, Arthur. I¡¯m supposed to succeed where my family failed.¡±


    My expression softened as I took in her words. She refused to look me in the eye, her thoughts shadowed as she suppressed familiar guilt and self-scolding. The same kind she always supported me with, bolstering my shoulders when they slumped from the weight of the world.


    I struggled for a moment, trying to figure out the right thing to say to make this better. I wanted to wash away her pain, to reassure my young dragon that it wasn¡¯t her fault. I wanted to list all the logical reasons why she couldn¡¯t be blamed for this. That it was Agrona¡¯s fault and his alone.


    But as I thought of all the moments I¡¯d shared with Tess, Ellie, and the Council these past few months, I realized that that wasn¡¯t what Sylv needed.


    Words and reassurances weren¡¯t what she needed right now. She just needed someone to listen.


    I took my young dragon in a hug, holding her tight, letting her draw from the strength I still held. She hugged me back, burying her face into my fresh clothes as her arms trembled. ¡°Ever since that massacre,¡± she whispered, clearly struggling to hold back tears, ¡°I promised myself that I¡¯d be a protector. One that wouldn¡¯t let these things happen. But they are. I¡¯m an asura, but I feel¡­¡±


    We stood there for a time as I held my bond, letting her hold me. Letting her be weak, because I could be strong in her place. The hall echoed with silence as she trembled, time slowing around us.


    ¡°Thank you, Arthur,¡± Sylvie said quietly, her emotions settling. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m always here for you, Sylv,¡± I said in turn, my voice barely a whisper. ¡°You¡¯re my bond. It¡¯s a two-way street, you know. Sometimes, we¡¯re all weak.¡±


    It took being a king again to really understand that. Even if the weight of the continent was on my shoulders, there were people at my side who gave me their strength. I wasn¡¯t alone, and neither was my bond.


    Sylv closed her glittering eyes, squeezing me for a moment. I felt a bit of disconcerted worry as her emotions became more shrouded. ¡°Arthur, about what Myre said¨C¡±


    The moment was abruptly shattered as two absurdly powerful mana signatures flowed toward me. Each moved with ephemeral, fairy-like grace, but there was a sharp distinction to them. One was cool like a stream with the scent of roses. The other carried poisonous, seductive undertones that made me unconsciously wary.


    Tess strode down the corridor with the dignity of both a princess and a Lance, her turquoise eyes hard and cold. Not far behind her, Aya flowed as she twisted sound and wind magic to accentuate her seductive facade.


    Tessia was quick to speak as she caught my attention. She bowed ever-so-slightly, the mist trailing in her wake shifting and whirling with secrets.


    It¡¯s only been a few months, I thought, inspecting her core with respect, and she¡¯s more than a match for any of the other Lances, even as they grow in power as well. Especially with how her Elderwood Guardian Will has changed.


    ¡°Lance Silverthorn, Phantasm,¡± I said, pulling myself back to my full height as Sylvie moved away from me. ¡°It¡¯s good you¡¯re here.¡±


    Tess¡¯ eyes were shadowed as she watched me, holding back some sort of indescribable emotion. ¡°There wasn¡¯t much of a choice, Arthur,¡± she said simply, her tone graceful. ¡°We each have something to report.¡±


    I felt my earlier warmth dip into calculation and worry as my eyes flicked to Aya. She stepped forward, taking my attention. Her dark hair had grown well past her shoulders by now, draping like shadows over her Lance uniform.


    ¡°King Leywin,¡± she said forcefully, bowing slightly. Aya had been one of the few Lances who had wholeheartedly supported my ascension to commander, something that made my life infinitely easier. ¡°Viessa Vritra appears to be moving. I¡¯ve been tracking her across the Beast Glades for the past few weeks in anticipation of something, but she¡¯s finally vanished off the map. I was unable to follow the taint of her mana any further south of the Dire Tombs dungeon. From what I¡¯ve gathered, I suspect she¡¯s ready to strike.¡±


    I frowned, digesting this information. Once our intelligence put together that Viessa Vritra was somehow portalling the beast hordes across the continent, it became our top priority to put her down, and if that was impossible, to delay and disrupt her wherever she went.


    The Scythe had taken many lives as we sent them to disrupt Alacryan camps and beast operations. It had quickly become clear¡ªto me at least¡ªthat none of the Lances were truly prepared for a head-on confrontation with her. But Aya was a master illusionist, something we¡¯d pieced together was a specialty of Viessa¡¯s. Who better to stall and nip at Viessa¡¯s heels than someone who knew her craft?


    ¡°Do you have any clue as to what she might try and do?¡± I asked seriously, focusing on the elven Lance. ¡°Another beast horde, maybe?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Aya replied after a long moment of consideration. ¡°The Scythe never gave me attention, even as I stalked after her. I got the sense that she was almost always aware of me, but never responded to my attempts at provocation. I suspect she was¡­ waiting for something. But whatever that was, it¡¯s arrived.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t even gotten the time I needed to outfit all my armies with standard gunfire training and tactics. Only a few companies would be able to use my weapons with any level of efficiency, and it appeared that the war was changing again. Gideon¡¯s development of weapons was in the works, but far from mass production.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done well, Phantasm,¡± I said honestly, shifting this away for further inspection later. ¡°I¡¯m sure the both of you have heard word of what recently happened in Burim?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s precisely why I¡¯m here,¡± Tess bit out, stepping forward. ¡°Because Avier returned with something, just as we arrived, and Rinia was there to receive it. She said she had¡­ explanations for you, about the phoenixes and where they came from.¡±


    ¡ª


    My steps were like thunder as I marched along the massive corridor. I¡¯d donned a simple gold crown and fur mantle, professing my station as I marched. My hands were locked behind my back. The elven Lances walked with me, our aura and power a statement. Only slightly behind us, Sylvie strode with the regal arrogance of an asura, further emblazoning our status into the minds of all who observed. Everywhere we moved, people bowed in reverence, the world itself seeming to part for us.


    But despite my outward appearance, I was seething inside.


    Rinia said that Avier would return to her soon, I thought, feeling anger rising in my stomach as the implications of it all settled deep in my core. That damned seer.


    I struggled to keep my aura in check as my footsteps echoed around us. Mist swirled and eddied around our feet like a red carpet, Tess¡¯ mana twisting with the same implications. Rinia knew far, far too much. And if she¡¯d expected my parlay with Cylrit to fail from the start¡­


    I was tired of things being out of control. I had been reactive in my first steps as king, but since then I¡¯d become painfully aware of how much information I lacked. Even with the restructured information division, we still didn¡¯t know the Alacryans¡¯ exact numbers, their capabilities, or anything else.


    It didn¡¯t take us long to reach Rinia¡¯s rooms in the deeper depths of the castle. The first thing I saw was a massive, scaled mana beast. It stood on two legs as it guarded the doorway, a pair of wings held tightly against its side. The elongated mouth looked almost like a dragon¡¯s, and its eyes flickered with intelligence.


    Aya immediately shifted into a combat stance, surprised by the creature¡¯s repressed aura. Sylvie¡¯s draconic eyes narrowed dangerously as she stared the mana beast down, but she didn¡¯t move.


    I raised an arm, signaling to Aya to rein in her mana. ¡°Avier,¡± I said sternly. ¡°Move aside. Now.¡±


    The wyvern ruffled its wings. ¡°A king¡¯s grace follows you, Leywin,¡± he said, his voice like a deep earthquake. ¡°But do not act rashly with my master.¡±


    ¡°I have always treated your master with respect, Avier,¡± I countered. ¡°Step aside. She wouldn¡¯t have directed you to this castle if she didn¡¯t expect this confrontation.¡±


    The wyvern-¨Cwhich normally took on the unassuming form of an owl-¨Cshook itself. ¡°Very well.¡±


    And when the massive mana beast stepped aside, I could finally see.


    Rinia was laid on a bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her breathing was shallow and pained as she inhaled weakly, her lungs rattling audibly against her ribs. Her bony hands were clenched around something that glinted in the low light, her cane leaning against the large bed.


    I blinked in surprise, momentarily stunned. I¡¯d been expecting the wry, snappy old woman who always worked in the shadows. But the empty eyes that stared at the ceiling told me another story.


    She¡¯s blind, I realized with a start. She can¡¯t see anymore.


    Tess moved forward without another word, striding to Rinia¡¯s bedside. My childhood friend knelt by the Elder, her graceful demeanor melting as she took the seer¡¯s hand in her own.


    I¡¯d almost forgotten. Amidst the fires of war, I¡¯d lost that part of me that fondly remembered Elshire. This woman was the one who always allowed me to speak to my parents when I was separated. She¡¯d given me more advice than nearly any other.


    ¡°If you want to expand your sight,¡± the woman croaked, struggling with every breath, ¡°sacrificing your eyes is a simple way. Strange, how that works.¡±


    I felt my anger drift away on the wind, replaced by a subtle mix of pity and guardedness as I stared at the dying elf. With my aether sight, I could tell her lifeforce was almost entirely spent. She might live for a few more months, but that was pushing it.


    Tess swallowed as she clasped Rinia¡¯s withered hand. She seemed saddened. Resigned, as she stared weakly at the floor. Aya Grephin shifted slightly, turning away from the scene. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go grieving me yet, girl,¡± Rinia pushed out. ¡°I¡¯ve still got work to do. Plans that need enacting. Schemes that need scheming, that sort of thing. I won¡¯t die just yet.¡±


    She¡¯s used up nearly all her lifeforce, I thought darkly. Just like her sister did, so long ago.


    Sylvie stepped from around me, moving to kneel with Tess in an act of quiet support. My bond didn¡¯t grieve as Tessia did, but I could feel the hurt and empathy radiating from her like the soft waves of low tide.


    ¡°What did you want to tell me, Rinia?¡± I asked, feeling my shoulders slump at my bond¡¯s emotions. I felt grateful that King Grey¡¯s phantom was not here today to haunt my vision.


    ¡°No subtle threats today?¡± she said, turning her head. Each of the wrinkles on her face was deeper than the greatest ocean trench as her sightless eyes stared at me. ¡°I was almost looking forward to your vague hints of violence and retribution, King Leywin.¡±


    ¡°Say your piece, Elder,¡± I said, feeling my patience strain again. ¡°You only have so much left to say. Are you going to waste your words on barbs?¡±


    ¡°Words are how we live, child,¡± she countered weakly. ¡°I need to say as many barbs as I can before I succumb.¡±


    Silence threaded through the room for a time. The early evening sun cast warm rays through the nearby window, but it didn¡¯t feel warm inside this sickroom. It felt cold.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re not in the mood for humor,¡± she said instead. ¡°That¡¯s alright. But I simply thought it would be good for you to know¡­ How I came about my powers.¡±


    My eyes darted to the item the seer kept clasped so desperately in her hands. If I focused, I could see the purple particles of aether darting in and out among her fingers, caressing a silver medallion between her bony digits.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t trained by the ancient mages,¡± I said, already feeling my suspicions rise. ¡°Nor by the dragons.¡±


    Rinia shifted slightly in her bed. Each movement made me wonder if dust would fall from her limbs. ¡°I was trained for many years in a place that is now far, far out of my reach,¡± she said quietly. ¡°The Hearth, they called it. With my sister, we learned under a refugee.¡±


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Scattered questions and understandings slowly started to align themselves as my eyes met Sylvie¡¯s. ¡°Who was this refugee?¡± I asked quietly. The way Rinia drew on her lifeforce to fuel her aether arts¡­


    It reminded me of someone. Someone I¡¯d fought before.


    ¡°Mordain Asclepius and his clan,¡± Rinia replied quietly. ¡°My sister and I had a natural art in divination, but it was uncontrolled. Many years ago, however, Avier¡ªwhen he was still young¡ªtook us to a hidden sanctuary far away from civilization. There, we learned for many years.¡±


    I frowned, feeling disconcerted by this. I gave a subtle glance to Aya, who complied by enveloping us all in a sound barrier. The elven Lance bore deep creases to her brow as well as she listened with rapt attention.


    ¡°The Asclepius joined Agrona,¡± I said, trying to fit this into everything I knew about the Lost Prince. Sylvie had told me that he¡¯d left to join Agrona centuries ago. Something wasn¡¯t adding up. ¡°And Toren Daen is clearly of the phoenix. He has a ghost following him, for hell¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°Lord Mordain did leave Epheotus, child, but not to join with Agrona,¡± Rinia chided softly. ¡°That¡¯s where the lie is. He hid away. There was one of his clan who went to parlay with Agrona, though, but she was betrayed.¡±


    I exhaled a sigh, feeling my mood plummet. I walked to the empty desk at the edge of Rinia¡¯s room, grabbing a chair. The room was painfully quiet as I hauled the chair over to the seer¡¯s bedside.


    Aurora Asclepius. The one who followed Toren Daen. I flashed back to the meeting with Cylrit, where the phoenix had intervened as he demanded news about his mother, oscillating like a flickering lightbulb between childish hope and childish vengeance.


    But I could sense that this wasn¡¯t the point of this talk. Rinia was building towards something, something I couldn¡¯t see yet.


    I looked to Sylvie, sensing my bond¡¯s thoughts. ¡°Did you know this, Sylv?¡± I asked. My bond had been the one to tell me that the Asclepius Clan had fled to join Agrona, but now Rinia told me that they were all somewhere in Dicathen?


    Sylv¡¯s golden eyes darted to Rinia, almost fearfully. She opened her mouth, then shut it again.


    ¡°No,¡± she said in a hushed voice. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t know. But Windsom told me that the phoenixes joined Agrona. He wouldn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Windsom,¡± Rinia scoffed, interrupting my bond, her voice gaining strength for a moment. ¡°You know what he¡¯d do, young Indrath. You know exactly what he¡¯d do. He¡¯s a monster, just like the rest of them.¡±


    I blinked in surprise as Sylvie recoiled, her shoulders hunching inward. She looked away as if she¡¯d been slapped, our bond darkening. Her choppy, wheat-blonde hair shadowed her face as she withdrew her hand from Tessia¡¯s back.


    My azure eyes cooled to ice as I fixed Rinia with a stare cold enough to freeze hell over. ¡°What is this about, Rinia?¡± I bit out, feeling agitated on behalf of my bond. ¡°You¡¯re dancing around something.¡±


    Rinia chuckled lightly, pulling her hand from Tessia¡¯s. My childhood friend shifted uncomfortably as the aged seer shifted slightly. Slowly, she maneuvered herself to sit upright. Her empty eyes stared through me as her mouth opened.


    ¡°Do you know what happened to the ancient mages?¡± she asked quietly. ¡°They were masters of aether, Arthur. They had more influence over aevum, spatium, and vivum than even the dragons. So why are they all gone?¡±


    ¡°Rinia,¡± Sylvie whispered, ¡°stop.¡±


    Our bond was fully dark, now. A haunted, empty darkness that made goosebumps rise along my skin.


    ¡°He¡¯ll learn eventually, young Indrath,¡± Rinia scoffed. ¡°What, you think a genocide of that scale can ever stay buried? The djinn left their remnants behind. Not even the dragons could destroy those.¡±


    I froze, the implications trickling over my skin like cool spring water down a mountain slope. The dragons of the Indrath Clan¨C


    ¡°Please,¡± my bond begged, standing up and moving over to the elven seer. The sheer amount of panic radiating from her every movement made my thoughts spike in alarm. ¡°Rinia, be quiet. You need to be silent. You can¡¯t say things like this!¡±


    ¡°Why? My bones are old. I¡¯m destined for death for my aetheric knowledge regardless. It doesn¡¯t change anything if I say that Kezess Indrath ordered the death of the ancient mages.¡± Her green-orange eyes flashed, and though they were milky with blindness, I thought they could see once more. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Taci Thyestes?¡±


    I let out a deep breath as I felt goosebumps trail along my skin, the hairs standing on end. I couldn¡¯t sense anything out of the norm¡ªnot in the mana at least. But I knew, instinctively, that someone loomed by the doorway.


    I slowly stood, calling on my mana. My body still ached from this morning¡¯s desperate battle, but I let that drift to the back of my mind as I looked over my shoulder.


    Taci Thyestes loomed near the doorway, his red-winged spear glistening like fresh blood. With the effects of Mirage Walk, he was nigh undetectable to normal senses. Even though he projected no intent whatsoever, I could almost taste his bloodlust as his olive-yellow eyes bored into the elven seer.


    Aya cursed, her black hair whipping about her as she shifted into a combat stance by my side. Tess¡¯ eyes were alight with emerald green rage as they flashed in defense of her aunt. She rose as well, placing herself by my side as we stood between the asura and the elven seer.


    ¡°Lies don¡¯t suit you, Student of the Lost Prince,¡± he said, his voice promising a slow death. ¡°I was warned about you. I have been watching for your subterfuge, and I knew it was only a matter of time.¡±


    Taci¡¯s words struck me like a thunderbolt. I¡¯d always been worried about the asura potentially going rogue or complicating my ability to lead the war effort, but the possibility of him being a spy had never registered.


    His grip around his spear tensed. ¡°You spread the lies of the Vritra Clan,¡± he said, a sneer parting his lips. ¡°Such an act will bring only death.¡±


    He took a step forward, his aura finally flaring. I ground my teeth, making my stance clear.


    ¡°You will not be threatening people in my castle, Taci Thyestes,¡± I said, making sure my aura pressed back against his. ¡°Step. Back.¡±


    The castle stones groaned as our mana flickered and danced in subtle clashes. The boy-asura¡¯s eyes flicked from me, to Tess and Aya standing resolutely at my side.


    Already, I was nearly a match for the young pantheon in direct combat¡ªand he knew it. If he wanted a fight, the assistance of two of my Lances would only sway a battle in my favor.


    How far is he willing to push this? I wondered, clenching my teeth as sweat beaded along my brow. How far am I?


    ¡°Will you stop me, Lesser King?¡± Taci sneered, his eyes narrowed as he stared at me. ¡°Will you throw everything away for a half-dead elf spewing Agrona¡¯s lies? She claims the exact thing as the lessurans on the other continent.¡±


    ¡°Will you?¡± I countered, feeling King Grey¡¯s cold calculations run through my mind as Dawn¡¯s Ballad fuzzed into my hands.


    Taci¡¯s knuckles whitened on his spear, and it seemed to me he was halfway ready to throw himself at me in bloody vengeance. ¡°Regardless of what you do right now, Arthur Leywin,¡± he hissed, ¡°That elf will die. Windsom will see to it if I do not. It has been his duty for generations to see to the end of dissenters against Lord Indrath¡¯s will. She is already doomed.¡±


    My mind churned with all the plans Elder Rinia had laid across this war. The way she¡¯d manipulated and maneuvered everything subtly sat wrongly with me. I needed to be in control if we had any chance of winning this war.


    I had been angry with her, true. She kept secrets from us. I still wasn¡¯t certain she was telling me the truth about Kezess Indrath killing the ancient mages, but if the mere suggestion was enough to bring about a death sentence¨C


    But the rising tension broke abruptly from a tired, quiet voice. ¡°Stop, Taci,¡± Sylvie said quietly. ¡°You will leave Rinia Darcassan be immediately.¡±


    Sylv, what¨C


    Taci barked a laugh. It was a sonorous, mirthful thing as it rumbled through the entire castle, his mana redoubling again. ¡°Truly a puppet of an asura, Lady Indrath,¡± he said. ¡°More a puppet of this lesser king than an asura yourself. You¡¯ve been molded and influenced by them like festering rot. Not even an Indrath,¡± he scoffed, true disgust spilling from his tone like bile.


    ¡°Rinia Darcassan speaks the truth,¡± Sylv said, looking away. ¡°About the ancient mages and my grandfather.¡±


    For all that he was a warrior asura, it seemed that Taci was not expecting this. He paused, blinking incredulously. ¡°Then you are a greater fool than I ever imagined, Lady Indrath,¡± he sighed. ¡°To so readily believe the lies of the Vri¨C¡±


    ¡°My grandmother told me.¡± Sylvie looked up at Taci, her eyes hollow as they seemed to absorb him right into her soul. ¡°At the end of our training in vivum, she told me the truth of the djinni genocide, Taci. That her husband ordered it. That she personally razed their Faircities to the ground for the crime of withholding their aether arts.¡±


    The room was silent as a grave. No sound echoed out that would escape the utter tomb that the infirmary had become. I thought I could hear the breath leaving my body as I stared, slack-jawed, at my bond. Sylvie?


    ¡°Are you going to impale me with that spear of yours, Taci?¡± Sylvie asked, still kneeling, her hands crossed over her lap. Her eyes were gaping pits to a void I didn¡¯t know existed before now. ¡°I believed my grandmother¡¯s words. I¡¯m saying them now. If you kill Rinia, why won¡¯t you kill me, too?¡±


    Taci was silent as he stared at my bond, his hand gripping his spear. And for a moment, I feared he might try and kill my bond. If not out of anger, then the sudden fear I saw in his eyes as they flickered about.


    ¡°Sylv?¡± I asked, my voice hoarse as I took a step toward her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you, Arthur,¡± Sylvie cut me off, looking away, ¡°because they would¡¯ve killed you, too. They¡­ They might still kill you. Because I spoke.¡±


    The earlier conversation I¡¯d had with my bond¡ªher worries and fears of watching people die from the massacres¡ªtook on a new light. Her resolve to succeed where her grandfather failed in protecting us all burned in the back of my mind like a star.


    Taci didn¡¯t speak. He seemed utterly frozen as something inside of him seemed to have¡­ shifted. Broken, or maybe transformed entirely. I couldn¡¯t tell. But I couldn¡¯t tell if he would lash out at Sylvie or simply turn around and run.


    A child, I realized. Though Taci stood at my height, his eyes were that of a boy who¡¯d just had his worldview cracked.


    ¡°Windsom will be here,¡± Taci bit out. ¡°He¡¯ll come for you eventually, seer. This means nothing.¡±


    Rinia sighed. ¡°I knew that, Taci Thyestes. Ever since my sister died, I knew it was only a matter of time before that dragon closed his hands around my throat.¡±


    I needed to act now. Seize the initiative before things deteriorated.


    ¡°Rinia will be placed under guard,¡± I snapped out. My eyes flicked dangerously to Rinia. ¡°The seer will be imprisoned as well. She has a lot to answer for. But we will not be base executioners.¡±


    Tess made a sound of outrage, but a look from Rinia herself silenced her. The old elf only nodded slowly. ¡°You¡¯re so afraid of these old bones that you¡¯d lock a little old lady into a cell?¡±


    I glared at the seer. I¡¯m trying to save your life, I thought. And I will have those answers.


    Rinia knew far, far too much. She had predicted Chul¡¯s assault on Burim. How else had she been able to bring us here with such swiftness? She also clearly knew more about the asura, Spellsong, and this war than she ever let me know.


    Taci blinked, his eyes focusing again. His breathing was heavy as he whirled, his teeth clenching as he glared at me. ¡°Don¡¯t think this saves her from me,¡± he hissed, like a child throwing a tantrum. ¡°You think you¡¯ve done something today. But you haven¡¯t. When Windsom arrives, I will torture the Asclepius Clan¡¯s hiding place from her. And then I will kill her.¡±


    The young asura whirled on his feet, ripples of force wafting off him. He stalked out the door, no longer blocked by Avier. He slammed a fist into the wall as he went past, cratering it and making the room rumble.


    ¨C


    Rinia complied with surprising ease. Though she hobbled and made wry, sardonic remarks whenever Tess shifted too much, she allowed the elf princess to carry her to one of our nicer cells.


    Sylvie was still in Rinia¡¯s rooms. She¡¯d insisted on meditating alone, dismissing us with those empty eyes. I¡¯d wanted to stay and comfort her, as I had earlier. That was something I could do now. I wasn¡¯t so¡­ useless with emotions like I used to be.


    Except Tess had pulled me along, telling me that Sylvie needed to be alone with her thoughts.


    And as we walked lower and lower through the castle, I felt the analytical mind of Grey reassert himself with a force I hadn¡¯t felt in a long time.


    If what Sylv and Rinia said is true, I realized, then Kezess is just as dangerous as Agrona. They¡¯re both willing to cross lines that shouldn¡¯t be crossed. Do things that should never be done for victory.


    I remembered the Lord of the Dragons¡¯ apathetic lavender eyes as they judged me from on high. How barely worthy of his attention I¡¯d been, and only because I bore his daughter¡¯s Will.


    But I don¡¯t have Sylvia¡¯s Will anymore, I thought, gnashing my teeth. They can¡¯t afford to simply assassinate me, can they?


    Regardless of the reality, the mere possibility made this war far, far more complicated. It seemed I couldn¡¯t avoid this war always becoming more mind-warping and chaotic with every step I took.


    Down and down and down we went, a darkness spreading around us as the earlier revelations¡ªand future plans both¡ªbounced around my skull.


    My mind wandered to Tess, who walked with rigid steps behind me. Was that what Cylrit meant when he implied the castle wasn¡¯t safe for the elven princess? I thought, halting suddenly in place. I turned to look at my lover, my brow furrowing with worry.


    The princess slowed in her walk, Rinia held in her arms. Her teal eyes met mine, just as deep a whirl of emotions and questions there. I traced the shape of her face into my mind. The curves of her features, the way her gunmetal gray hair seemed to float about her on eddies of mist.


    ¡°Art?¡± she asked uncertainly, her beautiful face burning itself deep into my psyche.


    If Kezess knew Tess was Agrona¡¯s goal, I realized with horrible, terrible certainty, he¡¯d have her killed immediately. And I could do nothing to stop it. If he sent a message to Taci ordering him to execute her, what could I do but fight a futile battle?


    ¡°Nothing, Tess,¡± I lied, turning back around as I felt sweat moisten my palms. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±


    I knew Tess didn¡¯t believe my words, but she was silent, too. The darkness of the slowing stairwell and flickering candlelight made me feel as if I were walking deep into a tomb.


    ¡°Your boyfriend is realizing that Kezess Indrath would murder you as easily as he squishes a fly if he ever realized what Agrona wants with you, dear,¡± Rinia said unhelpfully. ¡°And could you shift your arm more near my legs? My old bones really can¡¯t¨C¡±


    ¡°Could you just be quiet for once, Rinia?¡± I bit out, struggling to keep my mana contained. ¡°Just one time, could you shut up?¡±


    She scoffed, but was silent after that, all the way until we reached her cell. It wasn¡¯t really a true prison cell. More like a padded room for house arrest. The bed was lined with fine silks, and artwork adorned the walls. There was even a writing desk and reading material on a nearby bookshelf.


    But Tess still hesitated at the brink. ¡°Elder Rinia,¡± Tess said, ¡°Are¡­ Are you sure this is what you want?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about want, girl,¡± Rinia said as Tess set her down. ¡°It¡¯s never been about want. It¡¯s about need.¡±


    The seer said nothing else, sitting herself down on the bed. She waved a wrinkly tree branch of an arm at us as we watched. ¡°Shoo, shoo,¡± she said dismissively. ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of being imprisoned to do. ¡±


    I glared at the seer, my exhaustion from this entire day weighing deep on my bones. I would interrogate her tomorrow, when I didn¡¯t feel as if my soul had left my body.


    ¡°There is still light at the end, Arthur,¡± the elf said quietly as she stretched herself out over the bed. ¡°I¡¯m a blind old bat now, but I can still see it. Hopefully, you can, too.¡±


    I exhaled a breath through my nose, then turned. Finally, we saw ourselves away from the seer. We walked back the way we came. I struggled not to let my shoulders slump, the crown on my head feeling heavier.


    I was surprised, then, to feel Tess¡¯ arm linking through mine. She laid her head on my shoulder as we walked, seeming to sink closer and closer to me. Her warmth helped banish the chill in my bones.


    I returned her gesture, holding my childhood friend¡¯s arm tighter. ¡°You normally don¡¯t do this in public,¡± I said, voicing a silent question. This sort of intimacy was something we kept reserved for when we were alone, away from watching eyes. The duties of war and battle took precedence over our relationship.


    Tess was silent for a time, still holding onto me in an intimate way as we walked. The eyes of servants, guards, and soldiers lingered on their Lance and Commander as they watched us. ¡°There might have been a time when I thought that war was no place for¡­ us,¡± she said quietly, her gaze distant. ¡°But as everyone around me fell, I was reminded¡­ Reminded that I don¡¯t have that much time. And that sometimes, it¡¯s things like us that make war worth fighting at all.¡±


    We arrived at the room before long. Both of our feet had led us here, to our one place of mourning.


    Gramps¡¯ private suite.


    The unconscious elf didn¡¯t look any better than the last time I¡¯d seen him. Sunken and gray as the corruption spread through him. He looked old. Older than Rinia, even.


    Tess and I sat in the two chairs by the bedside, simply being with the old elf. Wordlessly, the elven princess waved a hand, her nature magic swirling green around her fingertips.


    A pair of silver roses nearby regained their vitality as Tess imbued them with life. The world seemed to brighten slightly despite the darkness all around as the princess¡¯ wildly beautiful magic misted through the atmosphere.


    I slumped in that seat, feeling my bones creak. I closed my eyes, holding Tess¡¯ hand as I felt each ache that pervaded my body. I still hadn¡¯t rested since I¡¯d fought the Wraiths, and though many of my wounds were washing away from my accelerated white-core healing factor, I didn¡¯t feel that way.


    The only respite I¡¯d received these past few hours was that Sylvie and Tessia banished that horrid phantom of Grey from my sight.


    ¡°This changes everything, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Tess said into the quiet stillness. ¡°What does this mean for the war? If the dragons of Epheotus are just as bad as our enemies?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond for a long time, just held Tess¡¯ slim hand. It seemed to fit into the rough, calloused grooves of my palm with abnormal perfection. Like a key fitting into a lock. Or¡­ two chains linking together.


    ¡°When I first started my wars against Trayden in another life,¡± I said, my voice sounding raw and tired, ¡°I deceived one of my closest advisors, Marlorn. The way I instigated my takeover of Etharia¡¯s government was built on a lie that set us against our enemies.¡±


    I¡¯d been telling Tess stories from my previous life when we got the chance. Anecdotes and tales that helped her know me more and grasp who I was. I couldn¡¯t see her nod, but I sensed it.


    ¡°Marlorn eventually figured out that I¡¯d lied to him. Lied to the world. He raged at me, threatening to reveal it to everyone on principle.¡± The memory drenched itself up like a haze. Of how Marlorn had shouted and spat at me about how I¡¯d slain Holden Drutha. ¡°But he never did so, despite how much he threatened it.¡±


    ¡°Why threaten it in the first place?¡± Tess asked, shifting slightly. ¡°From what you¡¯ve told me, you would¡¯ve had him¡­ Well¡­¡±


    Executed.


    ¡°Marlorn wasn¡¯t a good man, Tess,¡± I said somberly. ¡°The last good man on Etharia¡¯s Council died with my blade in his chest, before I used him as justification to start every war. Marlorn was a pragmatic man, above everything else. We were too deep in our wars with Trayden and her allies to risk revealing that the entire justification was a lie.¡±


    ¡°So he just¡­ went along with it,¡± Tess said sadly, catching my implication. ¡°He followed a tyrant because there was no better option for him, didn¡¯t he? Even if the people he fought for were worse than his enemies.¡±


    I winced slightly at Tess¡¯ accurate description. Tyrant. ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, my mouth feeling dry. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s exactly what Marlorn did.¡±


    The room was silent again, the only sound coming from the rise and fall of Gramps¡¯ chest. His ragged breathing filled the air as the sterile scent of cleaning chemicals invaded my nostrils.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to have to organize a strike against Seris,¡± I finally said, breaching the subject. ¡°This opportunity, it¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s too risky to pass up. Seris is the most dangerous opponent I¡¯ve ever matched minds with, and with this opening and the failed parlay, it gives her a chance to justify an attack. But it gives me an opening, too.¡±


    The young woman¡ªthe Lance of Elenoir¡ªdidn¡¯t respond right away. She knew what I was talking about, what I was weighing. I¡¯d tried to bargain with Seris Vritra to gain Spellsong¡¯s aid, but I didn¡¯t even know if Spellsong was still alive. He¡¯d apparently fought off an asura. I could hardly comprehend how or what he¡¯d done, but still¡­


    ¡°You weren¡¯t telling me that story only because of Kezess, were you?¡± Tess asked.


    Two Marlorns, and two Tyrants.


    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t,¡± I admitted, my tone wrought with guilt.


    It would be unjust for me to strike at Seris now. Unfair, after she trusted me with her parlay. And now, Cylrit was captured under the pretenses of peace and negotiation. It was a violation of the deepest kind.


    ¡°Grey would send Lances to Burim and have it destroyed with overwhelming force while it is still weakened,¡± I said, closing my eyes. ¡°Like a shark sensing blood, I¡¯d wipe the Alacryans from the face of the earth, then turn my gaze east and ensure Viessa Vritra was put down.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t let this opening go. I needed to do something to capitalize on it. My reservations didn¡¯t matter, but¡­


    ¡°But I can¡¯t do that, Tess,¡± I admitted. ¡°Not after I promised to try and draw in Spellsong¡¯s intervention for our grandfather.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be war, then. All-out battle along our southern front.¡± I shifted, opening my eyes and staring at the elven princess. From the hard gemstone glint in her gaze, I knew she¡¯d lost something of herself in this war, just like I had. ¡°The Sehz River is their most vital chokehold and the basis of our supply lines, and the Alacryans rely on their ships and mobility. That river is going to be their greatest point of attack. They need to take Blackbend City if they want to punch through us.¡±


    I worked my jaw, remembering Aya¡¯s earlier warning about Viessa. I wasn¡¯t confident sending the Lances out alone in battles yet, especially into occupied territory. I knew the gap between them and the Scythes far more distinctly now, even as they grew without their artifacts¡¯ restraints.


    But Tess was right. If the Alacryans were to try and punch upward from Darv, their best shot was through the Sehz River. Which meant that the most pitched battles of the war would be along that flow. There might be guerrilla attacks jumping from the tunnels all along the border, but the greatest chance for a true army to march on Sapin was by following the flow of their only source of freshwater. Blackbend City acted as the best station between the Wall and Beast Glades and the rest of Sapin. So many supplies and troops passed through that section that its loss would be a critical blow to the war effort.


    Which meant that it would be under siege.


    I¡¯d trained up more than a few battalions on the use of firearms and cannonry, too. The troops of Dicathen were raging inside for vengeance, raging to finally strike back after they¡¯d been massacred and decimated for months by a ruthless, unseeing enemy.


    It was time I granted them their bloodshed.


    ¡°And Arthur,¡± Tess said, looking me in the eyes. ¡°My abilities with my Will¡­ They¡¯ve grown substantially. I¡¯ve done nothing but train for the past couple of months. It¡¯s time we put them to the test.¡±


    Ad if on cue, a little vine wove itself from under Tess¡¯ shirt cuff, snaking out like a creature sniffing the air. It had a life of its own, that strange imbuement of nature magic.


    I let out a deep, weary breath. ¡°What do you have in mind, Tess?¡±


    I didn¡¯t have the energy right now to even think like Grey. I couldn¡¯t engage that political part of myself to deduce a grand, master plan of some sort. But Tessia? She was a princess. She¡¯d been born and raised in politics, and her soft heart had been hardened by war.


    I didn¡¯t have to do this alone. I didn¡¯t need to make my plans alone. That thought comforted me.


    ¡°I was thinking,¡± Tess said quietly, leaning in closer. ¡°With my regular talks with Mawar combined with what I can do now¡­ I think we have a way to deal a devastating blow to the Alacryans.¡±

 Chapter 279: The Demands of Dominions

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Sevren Denoir


    My limbs felt loose as I marched through the Denoir Relictombs estate, my mind awhirl with fire. Images of the mana projection of Burim¡¯s utter collapse pushed me forward. The news of the devastation had barely reached the public after one of my ascents with Caera and Naereni.


    Those two were going to meet with Wade and Alaric to see what knowledge they could piece together from their contacts. That just left me to my family as I tried to use their connections.


    I could almost imagine my metal arm aching. I couldn¡¯t feel pain in it anymore; not really. But that didn¡¯t stop me from thinking of the threads of lifeforce that I knew connected it to my body.


    Rumors say that Toren was involved in whatever attacked the city, I thought. People are saying that an asura struck there. Was my friend able to fight such a thing?


    Was he even still alive?


    The Denoir estate was tastefully decorated. Paintings dotted the walls here and there, each one showing a severe member from our highblood. Braiuz. Vaelor. Maesa. Half a dozen more familiar Denoir highlords and ladies flashed by me, each pinning me with a disapproving stare. It was clear to me that none of these portraits wanted me here. They despised my presence entirely.


    But I was here anyways, and they were simply ink.


    Despite myself, however, I halted in my tracks as I moved near a portrait taken many, many years ago, showing Father, Mother, Lauden, Caera, and I. All smiling. Father¡¯s olive hair was perfectly brushed and slicked, of course. Mother¡¯s pure white smile reflected every bit of gold in the room in a dazzling way. Lauden¡¯s was more shy. This was before he¡¯d become a bumbling oaf. Caera¡¯s grin was more hesitant, uncertain as her ruby-red eyes flicked to me. Her hair was short in this depiction. Barely past a bob cut.


    I was the only one in the painting that didn¡¯t show my teeth. But I still smiled, however thinly.


    I wasn¡¯t smiling now.


    The lighting artifacts cast long shadows as I marched past nervous servants and bowing guards, but I ignored them all, too focused on my task ahead. Then I spotted a young woman with bright orange hair, tied neatly into a bun as she rushed through an opposing hallway. Her face was a mask of worry as she clutched at something in her hands.


    ¡°Nessa,¡± I said sharply, getting the maid¡¯s attention. ¡°Wait a moment. I need to ask a question!¡±


    The young woman¨CCaera¡¯s steward and friend within the Denoir¡¯s restrictive home¨Cstuttered to a stop as she heard my voice. Her eyes went wide as she squeaked, nearly dropping the item in her hands. A clipboard? ¡°Oh, Lord Denoir!¡± she said, bowing quickly. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there. If I had, I would¡¯ve¨C¡±


    I waved away her words as I approached. ¡°I don¡¯t care about the formalities,¡± I interjected, shaking my head. ¡°I need to know where the Highlord and Lady are. I need to ask them some questions.¡±


    The Denoirs didn¡¯t have much of a presence on the other continent, but they had sent a token force to assist Scythe Seris in her conquest of Dicathen. If anyone knew anything more directly about the devastation that was sending ripples of shock through Alacryan society, it would be them.


    Nessa averted her gaze, keeping herself in a prostrated position as she chewed on her lip. ¡°The Highlord and Lady just got out of one meeting, Lord Denoir,¡± she said respectfully. ¡°I think they¡¯re having another as we speak, though. It might be bold of me to say, sir, but¡­ It might not be wise to test them. Considering what happened with the new heir recently.¡±


    I sighed. It was common knowledge now that I¡¯d been shifted to second-in-line to take the mantle of Highlord Denoir after my brother, Lauden. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t care, but it had made family interactions even more heated.


    I hate this place, I thought, my eyes smoldering as I restrained my irritation. I still hate it so much.


    Every glance at the useless wealth around me only reminded me of the pointless politics of it all. Look at me, all that glittering gold lining the walls said. I¡¯m so wealthy and important. Won¡¯t you just bow and cower at my feet?


    ¡°I¡¯m not looking to test them, Nessa,¡± I responded, an edge in my voice. ¡°I just need information on what happened in Burim recently.¡±


    Nessa opened her mouth to reply, still clearly hesitant, when a familiar voice interrupted us. ¡°Ho, Lord Denoir,¡± they said. The voice was old from use, but strong despite the age. ¡°It¡¯s been some time since we¡¯ve met.¡±


    I turned, mildly surprised to see Highlord Renton Morthelm walking down the hall. The old man seemed to have lost some weight since the Plaguefire Incursion, and his dark gray hair was slicked back at the sides. His eyes gleamed with quiet intelligence as he took every step.


    At his sides, Taegan and Arian escorted the Highlord. The burly striker and thin swordsman both bowed respectfully as they saw me, but my focus was on the nobleman in front of me.


    ¡°Highlord Morthelm,¡± I said with respect, bowing slightly. ¡°It has been a while. A few months, yes?¡±


    Highblood Morthelm was one of Fiachra¡¯s most powerful families. Even though their Highlord had lost his ability to use mana¨Cand taken in an unadorned as a wife since the Plaguefire Incursion¨Cthey were still a force to be reckoned with.


    ¡°A few months indeed,¡± the old man grunted, massaging his chest slightly with a masked wince. ¡°You never stay in one place long, Lord Denoir. I can hardly catch you when you move so fast. Especially without magic,¡± he said with a brusque laugh.


    I opened my mouth, feeling the sudden urge to ask him more about what his life had been like after the Plaguefire Incursion. That was when everything had changed for both of us.


    His actions in stalling for time against the vicars still burned in the back of my mind like a brand. A Highlord, willing to do what was right instead of saving his sorry life.


    I worked my jaw. ¡°We¡¯ll have to talk again sometime,¡± I said haltingly, a quiet look of understanding passing between us. ¡°I¡¯d be¡­ happy to catch up. But right now I¡¯m in a hurry.¡±


    Lord Renton¡¯s eyes flicked back the way he¡¯d come. ¡°Ahh, I suppose you need to meet with your family then. About what happened in Burim recently, I wager?¡±


    I nodded sharply. ¡°Yes. Our mutual friend is rumored to have been at the center of whatever happened. I wanted to get what news I can.¡±


    The highlord tapped his cane nervously, a silent chill spreading over the hallway. The lighting artifacts seemed to dim. Taegan¡¯s face scrunched up in an expression that reminded me of some aether beasts deep in the Relictombs. Arian stared past me at the wall as his eyes unfocused, something churning away from the surface.


    ¡°Your family got a recording,¡± Renton said, his tone low as his eyes flicked every which way. ¡°It¡¯s tarnished and catches barely anything. The mana interference made it practically useless. But it shows something of what you¡¯re seeking. I¡­ can¡¯t say more.¡±


    The old man¡¯s veins bulged from where his wrinkled hand gripped his cane. It was with a surprising start that I noticed the sweat soaking his pristine coat.


    Toren, are you okay? I wondered nervously, noting the electric sensation in the air.


    I swallowed, feeling a matching dread rise up from within my soul. ¡°Is he¡­¡±


    Is my friend dead? I wasn¡¯t able to ask, my throat clenching as I stared at Lord Morthelm.


    The highlord man shuddered slightly, shaking his head. He seemed to understand my implication. His expression wasn¡¯t haunted, not really. But I couldn¡¯t read it. ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°Just¡­ see for yourself, Lord Denoir.¡±


    He left after that, unable to look me in the eyes past the whirling confusion in the back of his mind. Taegan and Arian followed after him respectfully, each giving me subtle nods of respect.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to find my family. They were all present in the meeting room reserved for respected guests. The room was lavish, true, but it wasn¡¯t gaudy or over the top as the room for unwanted guests was.


    A painting of the Vritra¡¯s Maw Sea hung tastefully over a gently flickering fireplace, showing a few old ships as they quested out over the bay. Lauden lounged in a chair near the fire, his olive hair slick with sweat as he gazed up at the ceiling.


    Not far to the side, a simple bar counter made of polished clarwood reflected the orange light. Father was pouring himself a glass of whiskey from one of the upper shelf vintages. When I entered the room, his tired eyes drifted to me, but he didn¡¯t say a word. His suit was pristine and perfect as always, but I noticed the pinched look between his brows that told me he was worried about something. He only nodded.


    Lenora sat imperiously on a wyvern-leather couch, her arms crossed over her stomach as she stared at a tea table in front of her. The slightly glowing runes etched into the perfect wood of the table seemed to have swallowed her mind whole as she swirled a glass of brandy. She didn¡¯t even acknowledge my entrance.


    I looked away from her, too. Back to my Father.


    ¡°We were expecting you here soon, son,¡± he grunted tiredly, walking over to the couch. He sat himself down with a low sigh, swirling the whiskey in his glass. ¡°You¡¯re here about our friend, Toren.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d hardly call him your friend,¡± I bit out, settling down into the chair across from my Father. ¡°You only spoke to him a couple of times.¡±


    Corbett took a sip of his drink. Lenora kept her eyes glued to the rune-etched table, ignoring me completely. ¡±Highblood Denoir has extended a great amount of resources towards our friend, especially since he¡¯s gone to war alongside Caera¡¯s patron,¡± he grunted. ¡°If we aren¡¯t his friends, then I¡¯d have to redefine the word in a dictionary. There are countless rumors and plots shifting around Spellsong as his¡­ relations with Caera¡¯s patron becomes more clear. Controlling and influencing a Scythe¡¯s paramour is power in and of itself.¡±


    I snorted, seeing through my father¡¯s words immediately. ¡°So you¡¯re Toren¡¯s friend, of course, because you¡¯re not influencing or indebting him to you at all, are you? You¡¯re better than the other highbloods that are trying to.¡±


    ¡°Sevren,¡± Lenora¡¯s voice echoed out quietly. ¡°Please stop speaking of things you know nothing about.¡±


    I recoiled as if I¡¯d been slapped, gnashing my teeth. The fire crackled in the hearth, but Mother didn¡¯t raise her head. Visions of our painful meeting in the back alleys of Fiachra lanced like hot rods through my mind.


    I forced out an agitated sigh. ¡°Fine. What have you been doing that makes you a friend to Toren?¡± I allowed, tapping my fingers along my metal arm. I¡¯d been burned by my assumptions before because I didn¡¯t ask.


    ¡°Highbloods Morthelm and Denoir have been working closely for the past half a year or so since the Plaguefire Incursion,¡± Father said, leaning forward on his arms. He scrutinized me, uncertainly, his eyes settling for a while on my soulmetal arm. ¡°We formed a task force to control the flow of information about Toren Daen that came back from the other continent. Most bloods are too focused on what we do let past our nets: that Toren is the paramour of Scythe Seris, that he is heavily invested in the dwarves of Darv, and other such tidbits. Most of our foes are too focused on those to really understand the gravity of what he is.¡±


    I leaned forward, thinking about this. My eyes flicked between my silent mother and father. Do they know about Bloodstone Elixirs? I wondered. Have they figured out that Renea Shorn is Scythe Seris?


    ¡°And you understand the gravity of what he is?¡± I asked, trying not to sound too cynical or defensive.


    Corbett didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he pulled something from within his vest, then set it gently on the table.


    My eyes narrowed as they landed on the device. ¡°A projector artifact,¡± I said slowly, noting the port for mana to exit. This was an expensive model, but it was clearly damaged. Burns marred its normally pristine silver surface, and the dents and scratches made it look like it had been a part of a rockslide. ¡°What¡¯s important about this?¡±


    ¡°I saw you fiddling with these way back when you were a boy, Sevren,¡± Corbett said somewhat fondly. ¡°I¡¯ve no doubt you know what this specific model is.¡±


    My brows furrowed. ¡°A Janthalm Focus Mark III,¡± I said, recognizing the worth of what I was looking at. ¡°No¡­ this one is a Mark IV. It¡¯s designed to record high-speed fights at the Victoriads between Retainers and sometimes Scythes. They¡¯re a more recent development.¡±


    Corbett nodded. ¡°These devices can track the fights between the greatest of our mages. This particular recording artifact was given to one of our spies placed in Burim. He barely managed to use his artifact as he ran from the destruction around him. The pitiable sod was one of the only people able to get through the portal in Burim before some sort of interference broke the connection. The man was half a corpse when he reached us, babbling about fire and blood.¡±


    I looked up, my brows narrowing as my attention shifted, between my parents, then toward where Lauden was absently staring at the ceiling. I¡¯d come here for news about Toren and the aftermath of whatever had struck Burim. Outside, the display artifacts and newsmen only showed rubble, destruction, lava, and despair. But this was a recording of the actual event.


    I understood instantly as the rumors cemented in my head. Toren had fought something. Or someone. And this artifact showed that truth.


    Hesitantly, I reached my arm out, holding the damaged relic. I worked my jaw, sending mana through it in the right pattern.


    Immediately, a pane of pure mana flickered into existence over the artifact, images dancing and fuzzing over it. The quality was grainy and hazy, spots of distortions appearing across the video.


    Mana interference, I recognized immediately, having worked with these kinds of devices before. But mana interference on a device of this quality? That could only mean whatever¡¯s causing it is absurdly powerful.


    Whoever was recording this was running. Sounds of cracking stone and the screams of people drowned everything out, except for the spy¡¯s labored breathing. His terrified huffs scratched at my ears as the footage continued.


    It was a mass exodus. Hundreds of people¨Cboth Alacryan and dwarf¨Cran across a wide bridge of stone as they fought and nearly trampled each other to get away from something. A roaring bellow¨Clike something from a forge detonating¨Ccaused flashes of white and more mana distortions, deteriorating the already poor quality further.


    The spy was pushing himself through the crowd, using some sort of spellform to weave and flow like the wind. The way the recording artifact jerked this way and that told me that he must have turned it on with barely a second thought.


    Something blurred over the bridge. Two somethings. A streak of familiar orange and white, and one of trueflame red. The wake of their passing made the bridge tremble and shake. People screamed, and a few fell over the edge into the darkness below. The man with the artifact stumbled, trying to keep his focus on the beings zipping about the sky.


    They¡¯re too fast, I realized with awe. My hand clenched around the artifact. This artifact is designed to capture Scythes far beyond the speed of sound. It¡¯s untested, true, but¡­


    ¡°Toren,¡± I said, my jaw dropping as that blur of orange and white was thrown against a stalactite. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns, that¡¯s Toren. What the hell is he fighting?¡±


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    As the two titans continued their clash, every intersection caused rumbles to shake the cavern. And finally, they separated. For the first time, the camera managed to focus on the two combatants in the bright dark.


    Toren was different from the last time I¡¯d seen him. His hair was tied haphazardly into a ponytail that stretched down to his upper back. It burned with a deep, pulsing crimson. His eyes bore no pupils, simply seared. All about him, an armor of crystalline mana pulsed like undeniable plates. Wings of dying glass thrust from his back, and his left arm had been replaced by a duplicate made of the same strange mana. He was burned and cut in a thousand different places.


    I felt sweat bead down my face as I looked at my friend. Soulplume. The deepest depths of his power. The one he used to kill Mardeth.


    But I felt my heart stop when the recording artifact darted to the other combatant. Hair of a similar red adorned his features, and his body was also bleeding from so many places I couldn¡¯t tell where he¡¯d been cut. But from the flash of his eyes and the way the recording shivered with increasing grain just from attempting to focus on him, I knew what this was.


    A phoenix. An asura battled with Toren across the caverns of Burim.


    Toren thrust his hands out, the very world itself seeming to hum. A literal star of white fire flashed into existence over his outstretched palms. Then it shot forward like a tear of pale sunlight amidst the dark, slamming into the phoenix. Toren¡¯s enemy held out their hand, barely catching the beam of energy. The clash made the artifact¡¯s residual grain increase as it struggled to comprehend what it recorded.


    The spy, wisely, decided it was time for him to leave. His attention snapped away from the fight, his breathing increasing as he pushed his way through the crowds. His rune¨Cprobably an emblem of some sort¨Cshoved people out of the way en masse as he finally broke rank.


    All hell broke loose. Suddenly, mages were trying to use their spells to clamber closer to the faraway teleportation gate. Chaos overtook the entire evacuation, which had been strangely lulled so far.


    The spy barely managed to reach the other end of the platform before the artifact shook. A humming sound that made my ribcage tremble and my toes curl overcame all other noise. There was a flash of utter, painful white that made me recoil, and then nothing more. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was all that was left. Just a flash of white, stamped onto the mana panel. I watched for some time more, but I knew what had happened.


    Mana burn. Whatever that attack had been, it had distorted the ambient mana so greatly that the feedback had fried the recording artifact¡¯s ability to capture anything else.


    The room was silent for a long, long time as I stared at the pane of white mana, trying to put all of this together. The phoenix Toren was fighting¡­ they looked like him. Almost as if they were related somehow, with their shades of hair and pulsing fires.


    Toren was fighting with an asura, I thought again, still not fully understanding what I¡¯d just watched. A lesser fought a god.


    It didn¡¯t matter if he won or lost the fight. Not really. The fact that he hadn¡¯t been destroyed in the first exchange¡­


    I¡¯d seen Toren¡¯s absurd growth in power firsthand. In only a few months, he went from being relative to me in strength to fighting Retainers¡ªand winning. But that was all still human. It was within the bounds of what I understood. But this¡ª


    What are you, Toren? I thought, not for the first time. What the fuck are you?


    ¡°This was all that our man managed to acquire,¡± Corbett said into the silence. ¡°We haven¡¯t had anyone try and recover any more footage. That¡¯s where we knew you would come in.¡±


    My hand tensed around the artifact mutely. I¡¯d tried so hard to hide Toren¡¯s importance from my family. I¡¯d tried to keep his abilities and strength down low.


    ¡°Is he alive?¡± I asked, the words feeling foreign.


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Lenora replied, looking up from the table. ¡°All reliable information from Burim has cut off entirely since the Breaking a few days ago.¡±


    Toren had told me that he was going to kill a Scythe. He had not said as much explicitly, but my best friend had implied he would bring about the downfall of Agrona¡¯s plans for this continent. But I couldn¡¯t say as much.


    I can¡¯t let this recording survive, I thought suddenly, my metal arm shifting. It will make its way to the Sovereigns eventually. I can¡¯t let that happen. I can¡¯t.


    It didn¡¯t matter if they would eventually learn about my friend¡¯s powers. Agrona had already confronted my friend deep in the constraints of the Central Cathedral. If I were the High Sovereign, I¡¯d be watching for any note of Toren¡¯s impossible strength.


    ¡°All of Alacrya will be lining up to curry favor with Spellsong soon,¡± Corbett muttered, his gaze distant. He spoke more to himself than to me, his face unreadable as he stared up at the ceiling. ¡°Highblood Denoir will need to invest more of our resources into East Fiachra and all of Lord Daen¡¯s previous allies. Lord Morthelm¡¯s resources are already stretched too thin with the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion¡­¡±


    Something didn¡¯t add up about this. I knew that my parents would try and pull Toren into their clutches when they heard about his power, but Toren was beyond their reach. He wasn¡¯t even someone they could touch anymore. With the level of strength this recording implied, he was already beyond their petty politics.


    Scratch that, Toren was the paramour of a Scythe. What influence could Highblood Denoir have when Scythe Seris¨C


    It finally fell into place.


    ¡°If you¡¯re stretched for resources,¡± I grunted, a voice deep, deep inside of me laughing at how neatly it all fit together, ¡°you could always ask Bloodstone Elixirs for help.¡±


    The silence that followed was so deafening I could hear the subtle whirring of mechanics in my soulmetal arm. Corbett focused on me directly, while Lenora only took another drink of her brandy. Lauden, surprisingly, blinked as he turned around. My younger brother¡ªsnob that he was¡ªclearly sensed that my words had more weight, but he didn¡¯t understand why.


    They knew, I understood. They knew about Renea Shorn. Or at least they understand that Bloodstone Elixirs is subject entirely to Seris¡¯ whims.


    ¡°How long have you been her pawns?¡± I asked, leaning back. I crossed my arms, holding the recording artifact in my right. ¡°How long have you just been puppets for Scythe Seris? Because this isn¡¯t just about Toren. This is about following Scythe Seris.¡±


    ¡°We are all servants of the Sovereigns, son,¡± Corbett said, leaning back in his chair. ¡°You know this as well as we do.¡±


    Son. My father hadn¡¯t called me that in a decade. Not since I¡¯d dedicated myself to being an ascender and avoiding my pointless family duties.


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant,¡± I bit back, memories flashing in my mind. Of Seris as she propped Toren up as some sort of folk hero in the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion. How she¡¯d given amulets to both Naereni and my sister, telling them both that they could either hide their powers, or be subjected to Taegrin Caelum¡¯s torture chambers. ¡°Because this isn¡¯t about the Sovereigns at all. Scythe Seris wants you to keep¨C¡±


    ¡°Shut your mouth,¡± Lenora hissed, her shadowed eyes piercing me, before darting about the room. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about, boy. Again, you assume without context. Just like with Abi¨C¡±


    Someone burst through the door, tumbling to the ground in a feverish heap. Before I was even consciously aware of it, I was on my feet in a combat stance, my soulmetal pistol summoned from my dimensional storage and aimed directly at the figure¡¯s head. In my right hand, I clenched the recording artifact close to my chest. Corbett, too, had suddenly shifted into a form ready for combat as my mother stumbled to her feet.


    I blinked in surprise, however, lowering my gun slightly as I took in the sight of who had unceremoniously interrupted a meeting of Highblood Denoir.


    Taegan¡ªwith his fiery hair and massive shoulders¡ªsweated on the ground as he haphazardly pulled himself to his feet. The man usually looked about as emotional as a brick wall, but there was a clear mask of panic on the striker¡¯s empty face as he hauled himself to his feet.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this?!¡± Corbett bellowed, his magic barely kept in check beneath his fingertips. ¡°To interrupt a meeting of your employers¨C¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s here now,¡± Taegan said quickly. ¡°Arian sought to keep her attention occupied for a few seconds while I rushed here. But there was no time, my lords,¡± he pushed out, sweat beading over his forehead.


    My fingers clenched around the handle of the pistol in my hand. He isn¡¯t calling Arian ¡®Tiny Sword,¡¯ I thought with dread. Who could have rattled him so much to¨C


    ¡°Running was your mistake,¡± a smooth, strangely focused voice said from just beyond the door. ¡°It just told me that I needed to chase you.¡±


    The aura that flowed into the room in the wake of that feminine voice stole the breath from my lungs. My finger trembled near the trigger of my gun as I stared, wide-eyed, at the creature that loomed behind Taegan like an aura of death.


    With skin the color of milk, a skin-tight dress of accented dark spikes, and bone-white hair that flowed in a braid nearly to her back, the woman¡¯s figure would have been recognized anywhere in Alacrya. Even without a twin set of dark horns that erupted from her scalp, I knew the beast that coated the Denoir estate in an aura of doom.


    Scythe Melzri Vritra¡¯s coal-black eyes imperiously swept over the utterly frozen occupants of the room, her gaze testing as her power billowed around her.


    Belatedly, my family rushed to comply with her presence. Corbett practically threw himself to his knees alongside my mother, both bowing low so as to not give offense. Lauden fell off his chair as he knelt, his movements jerky and unsure.


    ¡°Scythe Melzri Vritra,¡± my father said haltingly, his eyes flicking haphazardly to my still-standing form, ¡°we were not expecting you. If we had known you were¨C¡±


    ¡°Sevren Denoir,¡± the pale-haired monster said, those catlike eyes finding me. She unceremoniously kicked Taegan¡¯s still-kneeling body, sending the poor man careening into a nearby wall. ¡°You¡¯re Spellsong¡¯s friend, aren¡¯t you? And you aren¡¯t kneeling like the lesser you are.¡±


    My mother¡¯s eyes begged me to comply. Begged me to get on my knees and press my forehead to the floor and plead for the Scythe¡¯s forgiveness. But even as her aura made me break out into a cold sweat and my right arm feel as if it were crafted of lead rather than soulmetal, I could only think of one thing.


    They¡¯re after Toren already.


    My hand tightened around the recording artifact, then crushed it in my palm. The crumpled metal fell to the floor in an echo of decimated steel. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to get to him through me,¡± I said, backing up slightly as I locked gazes with the Scythe. ¡°Your spawn has tried worse before.¡±


    Time seemed to slow as Melzri¡¯s mouth had formed a little ¡®o¡¯ of surprise as she watched the shattered relic fall to the ground. Her eyes drifted to the gun I¡¯d subconsciously pointed at her, then back to my face.


    I need to get to the Relictombs, I thought, in the middle of taking a step backward. That¡¯s the only place I¡¯m safe.


    ¡°Please, Scythe Melzri!¡± Lenora said, pushing herself to her feet as her dress nearly caught her in a tangle. Her brilliant white hair shadowed her face as panic suffused her voice. ¡°My son does not know¨C¡±


    ¡°You tried to defy me,¡± Melzri said, sounding annoyed as she utterly ignored my mother. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re trying to do here, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    One moment the Scythe was at the far end of the room. The next, my world exploded in pain. I screamed as I flew through a nearby wall, my left arm an unrecognizable mess of crimson. I cradled what was left of it in a heap, my mind delirious.


    ¡°Was this what you thought could hurt me?¡± Melzri¡¯s smooth voice said, sounding agitated. I gritted my teeth through the pain, looking up at the source. The Scythe stood at the hole in the wall my body had made, holding something in her hand as she inspected it with a curious eye. ¡°This little contraption? Did you really think me so weak?¡±


    It was my gun. My soulmetal gun rested in her slim hand as she looked it over like a curious cat. A grin slowly spread across her milk-white face, her blue lips stretching taut like a bowstring as she stared at me. Suddenly, I was reminded of a shintcat playing with a skaunter before finishing it off.


    Melzri aimed the gun at me, her eyes narrowing. ¡°You were aiming this end at me, lesser,¡± she sneered. ¡°Let¡¯s see how formidable it really is!¡±


    And then she pulled the trigger. The kickback of the weapon seemed to have surprised even her as she fired¡ªwhich was exactly what I¡¯d been counting on. I was already moving, an eruption of dust and shrapnel trailing where my bullet struck.


    A blade erupted from the top of my soulmetal wrist as I ignored the ruined mess of my left arm. Droplets of blood trailed behind me as I engaged Dictate of Mass, burring forward as I swung the metal at the woman¡¯s throat.


    The Scythe¡ªwho had seemed off-guard and surprised from the kickback of my gun¡ªwasn¡¯t even fazed by the sideways cut aimed for her throat. She weaved backward, easily avoiding my blow, before she lashed out with a fist.


    My head rocked from her casual backhand. I stumbled, barely able to think, when I felt my feet being swept out from under me. I tumbled to the ground with a pained grunt, my vision flashing red as my wounded arm was jostled.


    The Scythe was on top of me before I could even take in my change in position. Her face was set in a deep scowl, her teeth bared in an angry snarl as she loomed barely a foot over me from a mounted position. Her knee dug into my sternum in a way that was designed to hamper manaflow from my core.


    ¡°Did you think this was enough to defy me?¡± she hissed, pressing the barrel of my gun into my forehead. Her breath across my face made the blood in my veins turn to ice. ¡°Was this it?¡±


    I limply maneuvered my right arm, even though it was pinned by the Scythe¡¯s other hand. Through the haze of my pain, I pulled a single item from my dimensional storage.


    Click.


    I groaned as Melzri pressed the barrel of the gun in further. ¡°I came here for a purpose, Sevren Denoir. But I can get someone else to carry my message. If you¡¯re so fit to¨C¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a bitch,¡± I wheezed, spitting blood onto the Scythe¡¯s face. ¡°Nobody¡¯s ever told you what a monster you are. But you¡¯re the worst kind.¡±


    I could just see my parents rushing for me out of the corner of my eyes. Lenora¡¯s expression was a mask of terror as she moved in slow motion. Corbett gritted his teeth as he opened his mouth to shout. Even Lauden was drawing a blade from his dimension ring, his eyes wild.


    But Melzri was the most shocked of them all. She appeared utterly stunned by the splatter of red that tainted her once-pale skin. She blinked down at me, baffled at my words.


    Then her face twisted into one of utter rage. ¡°You fucking cretin,¡± she seethed. ¡°You don¡¯t even¨C¡±


    I aimed my wrist at the Scythe¡¯s face, feeling as her aura drove the breath further from my lungs. Surprised as she was by the spittle of blood dripping down her face, she didn¡¯t even have the time to comprehend the barrel of my arm as it aimed straight for her mouth.


    I pulled the trigger in my mind.


    The world erupted in electric light as I fired an artillery shell from my arm. Lighting crackled and jumped around me as I was forced painfully back into the floor, the breath leaving my lungs as my wrist ejected the bullet directly at the Scythe¡¯s face.


    My vision flashed yellow as the sound of thunder and power drowned out all my senses. For a moment, I didn¡¯t know where I was. What had been happening. What I¡¯d been fighting. My ears rang and my back ached like I¡¯d been fighting for days from being pressed into the stones beneath me.


    I blinked, my breathing ragged as my vision cleared. A veil of smoke shrouded Melzri¡¯s face, and her body was utterly still over top of me.


    My gun fell from her limp fingers, clattering to the stones. Through the ringing of my ears, I couldn¡¯t hear it at all. For a second, I wondered if I¡¯d done it. If I¡¯d killed a Scythe. After all, the round I¡¯d just fired had been enhanced with powdered aether crystal. It could tear through practically any mana defense I fired it at, and I¡¯d shot the bitch point-blank.


    Instead, when the smoke cleared from Melzri¡¯s face, I was greeted with a sight from a demon¡¯s nightmare. Most of her once graceful features had been turned into a mess of burnt and blackened flesh, revealing the bones far beneath. The blackened and charred skin of her face sloughed off like tar from an infernal pit, flakes of it disintegrating before my very eyes.


    A skull stared down at me with impossibly wide eyes, tendons and muscle barely remaining attached to the face.


    She was alive. Half her face had been torn apart from the impact, but she was alive. And in between Melzri¡¯s teeth was my bullet, crushed by the cracked enamel.


    She caught it with her teeth, I realized with shock. The monster caught the bullet with her teeth.


    I watched in horror, unable to even move, as Melzri¡¯s shaking hand moved to her teeth. She took the crushed projectile of soulmetal between her thumb and forefinger, inspecting it with ghoulish eyes.


    Her mana flared, and dark flames¨Cso much like Caera¡¯s¨Csputtered into existence, washing over her face. I watched in real-time as the wound I¡¯d so desperately gambled to create was erased by her healing factor, leaving clean and unblemished skin.


    Melzri stayed transfixed, her eyes honing in on that bullet. The weight of her aura pressed my family far behind her into the floor, even as they struggled to assist me.


    ¡°You tried to kill me,¡± she said, seemingly unable to believe the words as they left her pale blue lips. ¡°You¡­ actually tried.¡±


    ¡°Did you think I wouldn¡¯t?¡± I wheezed. ¡°I told you what I¨C¡±


    ¡°Shut up, worm,¡± she hissed. ¡°Say another word, and I¡¯ll kill you. I¡¯ll paint these walls with your red blood and make your parents watch.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth, glaring up at the woman even as she held my life in her hands. All my life, I¡¯d suspected on some level that this was how it would end. I¡¯d go out in a blaze, trying to kill a Scythe.


    Just one more shot, I thought manically, searching in my dimension artifact. I just need one more shot.


    I¡¯d only managed to get this far because the Scythe had let her guard down. If I could make her do it again¡­


    The Scythe leaned forward, pressing the smashed bullet to my forehead. ¡°You are going to send a message to your friend Spellsong,¡± she said in a low, low voice, barely a few inches from my face. I resisted the urge to shudder from how cold she felt. ¡°My daughter was captured by those traitorous mongrels of the Triunion. Nobody else has opted to save her. But Spellsong will. Because if he doesn¡¯t¡­¡±


    The Scythe grabbed my soulmetal gun, then pressed it into the ground directly beside my ear. Her eyes glinted as she pulled the trigger, ejecting another round deep into the stone. A spray of shattered rock opened cuts all along my face as the explosion made my ears ring.


    ¡°Then I¡¯m going to take everyone he ever loved and cared for from him. I¡¯ll burn Fiachra to the ground. I¡¯ll salt the earth with your blood, and I¡¯ll feast on your heart. If I can¡¯t have my daughter back, I¡¯ll take everything from the one who could have saved her.¡±


    Melzri ran her tongue over her lips as she leaned closer to me, her aura siphoning my very life from my bones. ¡°Do you understand?¡±


    I glared up at her with eyes full of hate. ¡°He¡¯ll get your message,¡± I hissed.


    Melzri stood after that, leaving my body in a small crater as she stretched out her back. ¡°You have two weeks. That¡¯s when Father says the war will be over, and that¡¯s all the time you have, Sevren Denoir.¡±


    She marched away after that, her boots clicking on the steps as her form-fitting dress swirled. Before she left, however, she spun on her heel. The bitch held out my pistol, taunting me with it as it reflected the light. ¡°And this is mine now.¡±


    Then she vanished into the shadows like a ghost, leaving me to groan in agony as I remembered the bloody mess my left arm had become.


    I barely registered as my mother rushed forward, engaging some sort of Spellform as she tried to diagnose my injuries. I waved her away as I blinked, plans and ideas running through my head as I tried to figure out what to do next.


    Scythe Melzri wants Mawar freed from the Dicathians¡¯ clutches, I thought, stumbling to my feet. The shouting voices of my parents as they called for guards, medics, and tried to get my attention were ignored.


    I stumbled away from my family, delirious as they tried to get me medical attention, but I ignored them. I didn¡¯t know when, but I found myself in the Denoir courtyard as I trudged forward, thinking of Toren, Mawar, and what I could do with this recent turn of events.


    Guards and medical personnel followed me as I went, but I was only half aware of the world around me. I needed to get to the Relictombs.


    A cough drew my attention to the courtyard wall. A young girl sat there, staring up at me from a nervous, crosslegged position. She had dark brown hair, and her hands fidgeted nervously with her worn clothes. ¡°Sevren Denoir?¡±


    I frowned, clutching at my bloodied arm. The guards around me oriented on the intruder, their weapons humming as they found the anomaly. ¡°Raise your hands in the air, intruder!¡± a blustered Taegan snapped, his eyes hard. ¡°How did you get in here?!¡±


    The girl nervously raised her hands in submission. How she¡¯d gotten inside the walls of the Denoir Relictombs estate, I didn¡¯t know¨Cbut that meant she was dangerous. ¡°I swear, I¡¯m not here to fight!¡± she said quickly, her eyes wild as they darted between me and the guards. ¡°But I¡¯ve got news! From the person who gave you your goggles! It¡¯s about Toren. I promise I mean no harm!¡±


    I blinked, my vision focusing on the girl with utmost intensity. An asura had given me those. Who was this girl?


    ¡°What is your name?¡± I asked through gritted teeth, clutching at my wounded arm.


    ¡°Circe Milview,¡± she said, cringing as Taegan levered his mace at her, ¡°Circe Milview! And we don¡¯t have much time.¡±

 Chapter 280: What the Pages Whisper

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The oceans burned in my dreams. The Sea of my Soul flashed and churned with angry torrents as time slipped by meaninglessly. Sometimes I was drowning, thrashing through a mist of memories as they blackened my heart. Others, I managed to tread water, gasping for air.


    I saw flashes outside. Dark walls and the scent of iron and copper. Rough hands, warmth and worried voices.


    Then I was submerged again in that boiling sea. The spire of banishment made everything hot, made my heart beat in my chest as if it wanted to tear its way out.


    More flashes. Onyx eyes and severe, pale skin. Silver hair and the scent of roses. A hand over my forehead.


    I screamed in my dreams. A severed sun, bleeding the love of his mother. A turbulent, raging star that was riddled with scars. It pulsed with every inch of tremorous pain. A dark moon with no more masks. A weakly pulsing shield, littered with cracks. A crown of family and steel, halfway forged into a sword.


    Chul. Aurora. Seris. Cylrit. Arthur.


    More and more, these images crashed through my very soul. I forgot who I was. Then I remembered it again, trying to pull back. But then I forgot again amidst the storm. Birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves echoed all around me in half-known memories.


    ¡°I have more freedom here than I enjoyed in an age.¡±


    ¡°A birdcage of oaths for one of silver vines and autumn leaves?¡±


    ¡°I love you, Chul! Let us stop this madness!¡±


    The screams of innocents dying, dying under my watch. Their heartfire scraping at my bones.


    Pain. Pain and agony like I had never known. The sea became blood as I drowned. That scent of copper and iron became an overwhelming sensation as I sank like a stone in the unending tide of red.


    My Sea wasn¡¯t water anymore. No, it was blood.


    That red burned everything. It boiled away my skin, sinking deep into my muscles and tearing at my nerves. And when I opened my mouth to scream, to beg for my mother, only an infinite tide of sloshing curdled crimson. It squeezed itself through my pores, in the spaces between my eyes and my skull. My wings shattered and broke, splintering and adding only more to the unending flood.


    Nobody came. I was alone as that boiling sea drew me deeper in, as my very soul devoured me. Not-thoughts came and went as the bloody abyss reflected itself above the surface beside a reddened, broken sun.


    But as I drowned in my very soul, space warping and twisting into things that should not be and thoughts that could not be known, I¡­ started to hear it.


    In between the weaves of sorrow, agony, and darkness, there was a¡­ flow. Even in how I drowned, pulling myself about my own ravaged soul as I struggled not to be overwhelmed, there was a cadence to it. A rhythm in the stars and sonata in the blood.


    Every cry for help and anguished pulse of my heart only seemed to add to this echoing symphony of despair. Each pulse was a note that pulled me over and under and through.


    I was naught but a tapestry of bones as the hateful crimson boiled my flesh away. And when the mortality had been scoured away¨C


    I opened my eyes, like a corpse that lived again.


    My senses flowed back toward me slowly, each one taking painful time. The sloshing of blood in my meat puppet of a body. My breathing in my ragged chest, my ribs rattling. The ache of my core and every single muscle as they squeezed. The distant sounds of chugging, rugged steel.


    And the wetness on my skin. The clingy, sticky sensation of blood. The unending smell of it as it painstakingly worked through my sinuses, staining them with guilt and iron.


    I was in a tub of some sort, submerged in a pool of blood. The lifeforce within hummed with a dying tune, before it was drawn almost subconsciously through my scarred, burned skin. My heart cycled and dominated that heartfire, using it to bolster my body¡¯s healing process.


    I laid there for a time, watching the back-and-forth flow of that blood. The phantom sensation of my body melting away in boiling blood made it shiver unconsciously.


    This wasn¡¯t really boiling. But it was warm. Far, far too warm. My body, too. A fever churned beneath my skin, drawing sweat from every pore.


    I dully observed the rest of the room. I recognized it with ease.


    Seris¡¯ room. I was in Seris¡¯ room. The only illumination was a few candles that flickered all around, casting shadows on the stones. On the far edge of the room, a tall mirror stood like a portal to hell, and next to it was an iron dresser bolted to the floor.


    I was alone.


    I slowly raised myself from the tub, the blood streaming off me. The red waves clung to my skin, sinking into the uncountable scars and burns littering my body. Each droplet sank its claws into my flesh greedily, refusing to leave me unstained.


    I stared down mutely at the stump of my left arm, feeling the weakness of my heart. My lifespan was nearly crippled, torn as it had been since I healed my core in a reckless bid.


    The blood coating my body and swishing around my legs steamed as I began to consciously draw the heartfire from it. I didn¡¯t know where it had come from, didn¡¯t know what beast had sacrificed itself to give me life again. But as the motes of heartfire slowly flowed into my weakened heart, then out along my limb, I felt a mix of gratitude and disgust.


    Red mist rose from my skin as I absorbed the blood, my flesh and bones gradually reknitting. My heartbeat was a painful, raw thing as I watched my arm grow back, almost like watching time flow backward. Bone sprouted like a spear, before flesh wove itself around like strong fibers. Tendons and sinew stretched between that, making way for pale skin.


    When I was done, the tub was empty. I stared at the pristine hand as if it weren¡¯t my own. Scars still remained along the top of my hand where Seris had claimed me. The runic oath-chains had followed, too. They weren¡¯t a thing of flesh, not really. Just like the Brand of the Banished, they were a physical representation of my soul pressing against my Vessel.


    I stepped outside of the tub on shaking legs, my eyes darting to the dresser. Lethargically, I made my way there one weary step at a time


    A set of clothes and undergarments had been laid atop the metal, fitted perfectly for me.


    Crimson, I thought with amusement, noting the tight-fitting shirt¡¯s color. Like blood.


    Black pants fit nicely over my toned body as I got dressed, following an echo of a routine. My fingers worked at a belt as I knotted it, then moved with old grace as I pulled the shirt over my head.


    My breathing hitched as I finally pulled the shirt on, leaning over the dresser as I fought to keep my balance. My vision swam as flashes of dying men and cracking stalactites threatened to overwhelm me. A headache pounded in the back of my skull like a heartbeat.


    No. Don¡¯t think about that, I told myself, holding back a groan. My hands clenched around the iron dresser, my fingers sinking deep into the metal. Not right now.


    I forced my eyes to look anywhere but at my bloodstained hands. The walls, the tub, the nearby bed. The top of the dresser.


    My dimension ring rested there, glistening silver. I reached out a hand toward it, putting it on. Everything was still inside. The two phoenix wyrm pendants. My violin and bow. My journal, noting all I knew of that otherworld novel.


    My journal.


    I withdrew it hesitantly, the familiar weight settling into my hands. It waited there like a bible waited for a sinner, demanding they confess and repent, judging them for their wrongs.


    I brushed a tentative hand across it, fingers trembling, before I finally clutched the blackened leather. I held it close to my chest as I hobbled toward the bed, the sway of my balance threatening to break my stance at any moment.


    I sank into Seris¡¯ bed. My headache was no longer a drumbeat in my skull that reverberated down my spine. Now, it was a lulling metronome.


    And then I started to read.


    It had been so, so long since I¡¯d read any sort of story. So long since I immersed myself in another world. But as the familiar notes on The Beginning After the End flowed through my head, deciphered at speed, I found myself sinking into who I used to be. The naive man who thought there could be a good ending for everyone.


    Hours passed as I read, remembering old nostalgia. I felt little swells of triumph at each recalled sentence of Arthur¡¯s victory. The depths of despair at his losses and fights with his loved ones. Little embers of hope as he forged ahead despite it all, being what I wanted to be.


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    My mind was silent, cold and dark except for the turning of each page. For the first time in what felt like centuries, I only had my own thoughts to guide me as each swish of paper tore cuts along my hope like the simple sweep of a saber.


    In what world are countless civilians massacred? I thought, my mind hazy as I turned another page. It must have been hours since I started. The beast horde being sent against the Dicathians¡­ In what world can that lead to a happy ending?


    Another page turned.


    In what world do thousands of dwarves die, swallowed by a flood of magma? I wondered, my vision blurring as I tried to read the pages. My fingers trembled. In what world does my brother try and kill the woman I love?


    A sob wrenched itself from my throat, and I couldn¡¯t hold it back anymore. The book slipped from my fingers, falling like a dropped stone to the floor, but I didn¡¯t hear it hit the ground. My fingers dug through my hair as I gnashed my teeth in silent pain.


    In what world does this become anything good?


    I wept alone in the room, my tears flowing. I sobbed, sometimes. But what use was that sound when there was nobody to hear? My shoulders shook as each teardrop fell like a stalactite toward those I¡¯d sworn to protect.


    Aurora was silent. Her soul had been burned simply from trying to shelter Chul from the lava. Merely touching her own son nearly killed her all over again.


    A presence finally caught my attention as it approached. A faint heartbeat that should be stronger, and a powerful wave of intent like a bottled hurricane.


    I lowered my shaking hands, grasping at the singed notebook. I clutched it, feeling it burn me like the brand on my neck. My fingers fumbled for a second or two, my movements uncoordinated, before I finally got a hold on it.


    And the door swung open slowly, heralding the entrance of another.


    Seris stepped inside, her dark dress swirling around her like phantom fog. From her impassive, severe expression and the way her eyes churned, I recognized the mask of a Scythe on the small woman¡¯s face.


    And then she turned to look at me, and that mask softened somewhat as her eyes trailed over me. She gently closed the door behind her, still looking at me with an unreadable expression.


    A long silence stretched between us. I didn¡¯t know if I should speak, or what I could say. So I just¡­ didn¡¯t say anything at all. I didn¡¯t have the energy deep in my soul to make my mouth move and force my tongue to form words.


    Seris eventually moved. The normal grace that followed every one of her movements had¡­ shifted, somehow. Changed. As if she were a slithering serpent rather than an ethereal fae.


    She sat down on the edge of the bed next to me hesitantly, before trying to link her arm through mine. But when I didn¡¯t react to her gesture, she instead folded them over her lap. Our shadows overlapped behind us, becoming one, dark creature.


    ¡°What¡¯s in that book, Toren?¡± she finally asked, her silver hair a thousand rays of moonlight as it brushed against my shoulder. Her eyes traced over the leather cover, lingering on the old symbol of Named Blood Daen in the corner.


    I didn¡¯t respond for a time, only listening to silence. ¡°A broken dream,¡± I replied at last, my mouth struggling to form the words. My voice sounded raw and ragged; tired in a way I could never understand. ¡°Just a broken dream, Seris. It doesn¡¯t matter anymore.¡±


    She didn¡¯t ask anything more for a time. Instead, she laid her head against my shoulder, her dark horns brushing against me. The mirror across from us reflected her gaze as she observed us both.


    I wonder what she sees there? I thought, looking into my mirrored eyes. They were dark and red-rimmed from my earlier weeping. She sees so, so much.


    But when my eyes shifted to hers, I felt something in my cracked heart clench.


    Because hers were the same. It was hidden better, of course. Masked with makeup, power, and an imperial gaze. But signs of distress were there if you knew Seris. Knew the depths of her heart.


    ¡°Seris,¡± I said, turning slightly on instinct as I honed in on that sheltered grief. ¡°Are you¨C¡±


    ¡°Not right now, Toren,¡± she interrupted, still watching herself in the mirror in an almost calculating way. ¡°Keep your mind away from mine.¡±


    I flinched, but thoughts of the Scythe brought other memories to the fore. Of Inversion thrusting from her chest. ¡°Seris, your heart,¡± I said, turning slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t fully heal¨C¡±


    ¡°It is fixed,¡± she cut through my words coolly for the second time. Her arm laced through mine, and this time I let it. Her slim hand clenched over mine, almost enough to bring pain. ¡°I saw to it.¡±


    My brows furrowed with worry. That deep white infection of inverted decay had been worming its way from Seris¡¯ heart the last time I¡¯d spoken with her, taking its sweet time in corruption. I honed in a bit on my ears, trying to¨C


    ¡°Why did this happen, Toren?¡± she asked, breaking my concentration. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut, my mouth opening. Then it closed again, and I looked away, unable to bear the sight of the woman I¡¯d failed.


    ¡°Tell me why Burim broke,¡± she demanded again. ¡°Why did one you promised would help try and raze everything to the ground?¡±


    I pulled my hand away from Seris¡¯, unworthy of the warmth. Her eyes tightened.


    ¡°Chul had already left the Hearth when I arrived there,¡± I said quietly. ¡°He¡¯d been gone for a long time, searching for his mother. Something about her reincarnation arts, or something I¡¯d done, reflected back to the Hearth. They knew that she was alive.¡±


    Seris shifted slightly on the bed, moving closer to me. She raised both of her hands, and for a moment I thought she would wrap them around my throat. But instead, she slowly pulled back the collar of my shirt, revealing the Brand of the Banished on the base of my neck.


    The tip of her finger traced over the symbol of slashed-through fire, her nail digging into my skin. The dark digit was rigid like a knife as the pad sent goosebumps along my neck.


    ¡°Am I to expect the rest of the Asclepius Clan to rain hellfire down on us, too?¡± she asked, her eyes glued to the symbol.


    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, visions of my failure flashing through my skull. ¡°They¡¯ll never send aid to any side in this war. And Chul¡­ he thought I was a prison for her.¡±


    Silence trailed in the wake of my words as Seris¡¯ finger continued to trace the Brand on my throat.


    ¡°She isn¡¯t here, is she?¡± the Scythe asked lowly. ¡°Lady Dawn is not present with us.¡±


    I shook my head, staring at myself in the mirror. Seris¡¯ hands slowly released my collar, instead clutching at my arm in a desperate, almost possessive sort of way. Her eyes churned, secrets and raw fury burning in their depths.


    ¡°Then we¡¯re alone,¡± Seris said, pressing closer to me. It wasn¡¯t the comforting nuzzle she normally did whenever she desired warmth, laced with intimacy and care. This was more like a thief hiding in the shadows to escape the light. ¡°We¡¯re all we have left, Toren.¡±


    Seris¡¯ hand peeled open my fingers, pressing something there. The warm, familiar touch of Aurora¡¯s relic almost seemed to burn as the Scythe closed my digits around it.


    That was¡­ something. The relic had survived the cataclysm. But Inversion¡­ I couldn¡¯t sense it anymore.


    ¡°What now?¡± I asked emptily, staring up at the ceiling. ¡°What do I do now, Seris? I¡­ Where do I go from here?¡±


    I¡¯d always had a sense of purpose ever since coming to this world. A sort of drive that pushed one foot in front of the other. But as I started thinking of what might be after this war, the Hearth and Aurora had always burned like bright stars of possibility in my mind.


    That short time I¡¯d spent at the Hearth had felt like a lifetime. A fleeting glimpse of everything I desired, like a lit candle casting a warm glow on a hidden painting. But that light had been snuffed out, the candle wax strewn across the floor by my banishment.


    ¡°This war will be over soon,¡± Seris said, holding my arm like a vise. Her face was a painted mask, so full of cracks. ¡°I¡¯ve been ordered to finish it with a newly arrived fleet, and that is what we shall do. We will return to Alacrya then, Toren. We cannot doubt the future.¡±


    I opened my mouth, my tongue heavier than any lead. We couldn¡¯t doubt the future? The notebook in my hand suddenly drew my mind like a burning star. ¡°I need to heal this city,¡± I said quietly. ¡°They need me to help fix what I broke.¡±


    Seris¡¯ arm tightened around mine. ¡°No,¡± she rebutted, her voice cool as a grave. There was something unnerving in her eyes that made goosebumps trail along my skin. ¡°No, Toren. You will stay here in my rooms until you¡¯ve recovered. I won¡¯t allow you out into that city.¡±


    My brow furrowed as Seris¡¯ fingers dug into my skin like claws. ¡°Seris, I need to do what I can,¡± I insisted, emotions and needs fighting to be known in my words. My voice came out stronger than I expected. ¡°I promised the dwarves hope. I already¨C¡±


    ¡°Broke it?¡± the Scythe said, her eyes narrowing as they pierced mine in the mirror. ¡°You broke the hope you promised?¡±


    I recoiled as if I¡¯d been slapped, her words sinking deeper into my flesh than any of Chul¡¯s strikes. I pulled away from the Scythe, feeling unworthy of the closeness.


    I¡¯d given Seris hope. She said as much. But had I broken her hope, too? Had I¡­


    I didn¡¯t dare look Seris in the eyes. I was too cowardly; too fearful of what I might find. My actions had already resulted in Aurora being stripped of her family. I didn¡¯t want to risk seeing the woman I loved stripped of her hope, too.


    We sat in silence for a long, long time as I fermented in my thoughts. A swirling mix of blame, hatred, guilt, and sorrow made my soul churn as I tried to make something cohesive out of all of it.


    ¡°I sent many of our troops up the Sehz River,¡± Seris said after a moment, sitting like a doll on the bed. ¡°They¡¯ll be making pushes for Blackbend at the forks in the flow. Once we capture Blackbend, Sapin will fall soon after if we maintain such momentum. That is what they¡¯ll expect.¡±


    I didn¡¯t really hear the Scythe as she spoke, still engrossed in my own thoughts and questions. But the words she spoke next banished every single bit of mental stability I¡¯d cobbled together in this past hour or so.


    ¡°King Arthur will be on guard from his southern front,¡± the Scythe said, more to herself than to me. ¡°I¡¯ll press him from the west as well. That¡¯s the best option to¨C¡±


    ¡°King Arthur?¡± I asked, my blood freezing in my veins. My body went rigid, my hands tensing over my lap.


    Seris tilted her head, her moon-blessed hair cascading down her dark dress like a river of quicksilver. There was something sharp and inquisitive in her expression as she stared at me, every look carving away my secrets. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know about this, would you?¡± she said serenely, not moving an inch from the bed. ¡°You were gone when¨C¡±


    I grasped the Scythe¡¯s slim shoulders, holding them as much for support as I did in demand. She didn¡¯t react. ¡°Seris, does this mean what I think it does? That Arthur Leywin is some sort of King?¡±


    Seris observed me casually, my panic and worry washing over her like spring rain. ¡°Shortly after you left for the Hearth, Epheotus intervened in the crumbling Council to prop up their own little regime, with an asura poised at the head.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said in denial, taking my hands from Seris¡¯ shoulders. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. That would be breaking the treaty!¡±


    ¡°And Aurora Asclepius¡¯ presence can¡¯t be construed as such?¡± Seris countered, tilting her head as she stared through me. ¡°The only action this asura is allowed to do openly is rip you apart, Toren. ¡®Even the playing field.¡¯ But regardless, someone else intervened, offering themself as candidate for Commander.¡±


    I slumped in the bed, splaying myself out across the sheets in utter defeat.


    Arthur would never take the mantle of King again. He shouldn¡¯t ever take it up. He cared too much about his family. Hated what he used to be too much. There was nothing that could change that.


    But then I thought of all the death and destruction that had ravaged Sapin these past few months. In a timeline now lost, Agrona had restrained his actions against the populace in an attempt to sway Arthur to his side. But if he were destroying everything, putting Arthur¡¯s family in jeopardy¡­


    Ultimately, though, I didn¡¯t know. Things had changed too much. All I had was speculation.


    What must he be feeling? I wondered emptily, my arms stretched out on the bed like a corpse. My long hair flared around me like a broken halo. I felt my exhaustion crashing back into me as I tried to understand all of it.


    A single, terrifying thought peeked its horrifying visage over the horizon of my mind.


    If Arthur is some sort of King, I wondered with dread, will he ever form his aether core? If he¡¯s in charge of this continent, can I even expect him to be the pillar of power he needs to be?


    Seris¡¯ shadow was long and dark as it draped over me like morning mist. All I could do was ask questions that had no answers, and lament a future I might have already destroyed.

 Chapter 281: Symphony for What May Be

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    My exhaustion was soul-deep.


    The following days were spent interned in the Divot trying to recover my strength, as per Seris¡¯ orders. My heartbeat brought quiet agonies with every pulse, my overuse of Resonant Flow making itself known. Though my heartfire had regenerated and my body was in near-perfect health, it was my very spirit itself that felt worn.


    The Brand of the Banished was to blame. Every time Chul¡¯s fist had smashed into my face or driven into my chest, the Brand had seared my very soul, burning away my primordial essence. I had spent many days simply meditating in the silent Sea of my Soul, pulling scattered pieces of my soul back into alignment. Memories I hadn¡¯t known I¡¯d lost realigned themselves. Foundations for emotions I¡¯d lost drifted back to me.


    So it was as I sat, cross-legged, in that endless, black expanse. The Sea beneath me was no longer freshwater kissed by the sunrise. No, now it was an ocean of crimson. My very soul was akin to the aftermath of a battlefield. The scent of copper and metal infused my lungs every time I breathed.


    It was hard to see into the Abyss beyond, now. Normally, Aurora¡¯s light had cast everything in the healthy glow of a sunrise, but she was¡­ dim, now. I couldn¡¯t bear to look at the scarred reflection of her soul as it pulsed weak light across my bloody spirit. It made me think too much of dusk instead of dawn.


    Lady Dawn had been injured just as deeply as I during the Breaking of Burim. I knew she was trying to pull herself back, on some subconscious level. I could feel it in how she gravitated toward me, using me as an anchor to try and heal over the parts that had been burned.


    Without her light¡­ it was hard to see into the far darkness beyond. No guiding star lit my way at every step as I stared blankly into the soul space, searching for familiarity.


    I thought I could see Seris¡¯ soul. That pale moon, covered in shadows. But that darkness of ephemeral silk seemed darker somehow. What I would have normally been able to pierce was impossible without Aurora¡¯s light.


    Cylrit¡¯s tower shield of black metal still orbited my Scythe. I could sense flashes of him as it ever-so-slightly caught the light, but they were indistinct. Shadowed and unclear from my weakness.


    I felt the temptation to pull on that abyss, to rotate it and show Arthur, Sylvie, and Tessia¡¯s souls. I could do it here and now. Perhaps I could gain more insight into what had led Arthur to¡­ making himself King. I still didn¡¯t know how to process that. I didn¡¯t know if I could ever process that.


    So instead, I just laid back in the gloomy shadows of my dusk-touched soul, my hair sinking into the blood below. I could feel the strands as memories and ideals grasped them like drowned sinners, pulling it¡ªand me¡ªdeeper into their depths.


    If I lay here too long, I thought staring blankly up at the empty darkness, I¡¯ll drown.


    I brushed my hands across the bloody surface, like a child treading water or splashing in a shallow stream. I watched without much care as the waves rippled and changed, sensing the contents of each droplet of blood.


    The soul was a strange, nebulous thing. Each drop of red that brushed across my palms told me a little bit more about myself. Here was an old memory, one that tied to a dozen others. Each splash of scarlet was another knot in an ever-expanding tapestry of my existence, somehow compressed into liquid form.


    It was peaceful, in a way. Not the normal peace I experienced in this place. This was the peace of the calm before the storm. It was the sort of stillness that served as a prelude to a fight in a ring, or a duel for your life.


    The Brand wasn¡¯t innately cruel. It burned my soul, true, but each searing contact with Chul had been a slight warning, starting small. Don¡¯t hold your loved ones, it said, pushing one away like a hand lurching from a hot stove. It will get worse if you hold on.


    That was what had hurt Aurora so much. Despite the heat, when Chul had been endangered, she¡¯d held on, letting herself break apart.


    I pulled myself from the shallows before the ghosts of the dead could pull me under. I sat cross-legged again, closing my eyes as I found the willpower to push back to the real world.


    When I opened them again, I was in Seris¡¯ room once more, the dark candlelight making me feel like I was still staring into that endless abyss of distant stars.


    I was alone. That was normal now. Seris visited sometimes, but she never stayed long. She pressed on my wounds. Checked on my health. Ensured I was still here. And then she¡¯d leave, swiftly as she¡¯d come.


    Even as I¡¯d been confined to her bed, I felt a sort of distance between us that had never been there before that ached as much as any of the wounds I¡¯d taken in my battle with Chul. But why wouldn¡¯t she distance herself from me? I¡¯d promised her hope. I¡¯d promised her a way forward.


    And I¡¯d broken those hopes along with Burim.


    ¡°I can¡¯t stay in here,¡± I said to myself in slow realization. Seris had commanded me to stay put, presumably for my protection and recovery. But every inhale and every brush of¡­ the city¡¯s wound across my ears slowly drove me closer and closer to the edge.


    I felt like I was in a cage, denied the light. The darkness outside of Seris¡¯ rooms had been enough to terrify me into hiding, at least until the spreading madness of my very own soul finally overrode that fear.


    I rose quickly from the bed, stumbling over to Seris¡¯ door. I pushed my way outside, reining in my mana signature. The halls were dark as a crypt as my eyes darted about, searching for signs of any other presence.


    Aurora, can you sense¨C


    My thoughts cut off abruptly as I recognized what I¡¯d been about to ask. Can you sense any traps or spies?


    But she was silent. Gone for now.


    That second presence in my mind had always been a source of comfort and warmth. A reassuring little light that affirmed my emotions and drive at every point of the way. Now, without that hand on my shoulder, I felt strangely like a lost child in a house far, far too big for me in the depths of the night.


    I exhaled a shuddering breath, then walked across the dreadfully empty halls. And as I walked, the sound I¡¯d been hiding from for so long finally reached my ears. It was like a massive, pulsing wound. It felt as if Mother Earth herself wept from a dozen cuts.


    Whenever someone bled, it carried a small trace of their excess heartfire that coasted along the top, glimmering for a time before dissipating into that atmosphere. But this¡­ this was like that, except dark. Like a swath of pestilence that refused to leave the dead, warding away every family that came to mourn. It brushed against my ears like the deepened calls of a mourning dove, making tremors rush along my arms.


    I felt cold. Even with the heat of my blood and the warmth of my mana, I couldn¡¯t stop the chilling wave that made gooseflesh rise along my skin.


    I reached the exit of the Divot easily enough. Part of me was still sure that Seris had tracked me out. In fact, I was certain of it. Even if I didn¡¯t know how, I doubted I could escape that cage without her figuring it out somehow.


    The Divot was dreadfully silent as I floated above, one foot over the edge of the abyss.


    If I float down, I¡¯ll see it all, I thought, my fingers clenching at my side. If I look down, I can¡¯t pretend it doesn¡¯t exist anymore.


    I could already hear the aftermath, like one gaping attack on the world itself. But seeing it¡­


    I needed to face it. To see the consequences of my actions, to see them through. I¡¯d promised myself that long ago.


    I allowed myself to sink like a stone at the bottom of a river, casting my gaze about the decimated city.


    Burim was unrecognizable. Where once lavaducts hung from thick chains in the Overcrofts, providing warm light and flowing life to the entire city, now they swung like disemboweled entrails instead. The hanging stalactites, instead of littering the ceiling in a thousand different places, were now only sparse spears poised to impale the earth even further. What chains were left swung like empty nooses, the corpses long since taken down.


    I hovered there in the center of the cavern for a time, utterly undetectable as I observed the devastation, felt the intent.


    This is what war between asura is, I thought, feeling as if my flight were slower in the molten sap of lingering death. This is what it leaves behind.


    In the aftermath of my battle with Mardeth, the people of East Fiachra had been devastated, feeling each lance of pain deep in their hearts. But there had been hope, too. A strange dichotomy toward the future pervaded their minds and ideals.


    But there was none of that here. The intent of every mage just reeked of despair as they trudged across malformed bridges and sifted through rubble far below. Dwarves used their metal, magma, and earth magic to part debris and carve through the tattered landslide that was once the Undercrofts. Streams of lava still flowed malevolently here and there, mocking the survivors.


    I didn¡¯t know what to feel. Despair? Regret? Anguish? I¡¯d felt all of those already. They¡¯d consumed me. Anger? Some of that, yes. Hate, too. But right now, I just felt tired.


    Mordain had warned me and tested my resolve, asking if I was willing to take these chances. Soleil had shown a Bloodtie that stunk of the same dread pain. I¡¯d decried them both internally as cowards too afraid to take the steps necessary to save this world from the Vritra and Indraths.


    But seeing this¡ªfeeling it deep within¡ªI thought I finally understood them beyond an intellectual level.


    How had I been so naive?


    I drifted down to a nearby refugee station, silent as the empty wind. I swiped a cloak from a stall while the owner wasn¡¯t looking, using it to cover my recognizable features.


    And then I set to helping where I could. For hours, I used my telekinesis to clear rubble. I healed whoever I could find. I was a shadow in the crowds, little less than a ghost as I flitted about in half a haze.


    High above, the gaping wound in the ceiling where my failed assault on Chul had been deflected into the roof let the morning sun into the cavern, but it didn¡¯t feel bright. Sand fell in a constant stream of fine particles along the edges like a waterfall into the dark cavern far below. It made me think of the slow trickle of an hourglass running out of time. I hid amidst the shadows of that lost time as hundreds of feet of destroyed rock passed by.


    The people were somber with loss, but they still talked as I drifted among them. A massive Alacryan fleet had arrived practically immediately after the Breaking. They¡¯d been striking north along the Sehz, making a true effort to punch through Sapin to Blackbend. Rumors said a Retainer led it. Maybe even a Scythe.


    I half-listened as I worked. I was certain that some picked up on my identity, but not a word was said.


    I just kept moving, going from one place that needed a helping hand to another. And as it all sank into my skin like cloying smoke, I felt my thoughts shift back again and again to that understanding of this tragedy. This¡­ This was what happened when asura fought. This was what became of the world when gods did battle.


    And Mother Earth continued her work, careless of the lessers beneath her feet, I thought sardonically, stepping away from a small group of dwarven mages as I set down a massive boulder that had been giving them trouble. The Dragon battled her to protect them. But that was the dragon¡¯s perspective, wasn¡¯t it?


    Barth had told me that story, one spoken to all asuran youth. But I wondered, then. How many lessers did Arkanus destroy in his conquest of Geolus?


    I was forced to interrupt my work, however, as a familiar pulling sensation brushed against my soul. Not my mind, no¡ªthe very sea of crimson that I¡¯d recently left for the land of the living.


    Circe? I thought with confusion, remembering the sensation from not long ago when I¡¯d felt her plea. Circe Milview?


    The last time I¡¯d answered such a call, I¡¯d been interned deep in the Hearth. Seth had laid dying in Circe¡¯s arms, and she¡¯d¡­ pleaded for someone to help. For me to help. And I¡¯d answered, granting her what I could.


    And she¡¯d channeled my heartfire healing, somehow. Maybe because of her latent djinni blood? Or perhaps from some insight of her own?


    I hadn¡¯t had time to truly comprehend what this meant at the time. I¡¯d been too set on trying to win the favor of the Hearth in the Forum to focus on the intricacies of¡ª


    Again, that plea for help brushed against the boundaries of my soul. It was so earnest. So pure and trusting in its desire for help and assistance. Even in the depths of my own despair, I couldn¡¯t deny it. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I closed my eyes, and I followed that call to the edges of my spirit. I reached Circe¡¯s soul, and I sensed the effervescent lifeforce that connected it to her body.


    And I followed it down.


    Some part of me traveled beyond Burim. Beyond Dicathen and Alacrya, to a place not quite of this realm. Time moved differently there, subject as it was to altered rules of reality. Clocks ticked slower. My heartbeat seemed to take its leisurely time.


    Circe¡¯s in the Relictombs, I realized as her emotions flowed through me. Just like with how I reached out to Tessia and healed her, I can sense where she is in space.


    And the person she was healing¡­ Sevren?! Yes, Circe was channeling what heartfire I had to spare to a familiar man. I couldn¡¯t see or truly understand the situation, but I knew this young girl¡ªwho had once been so faithful to the Vritra Doctrination¡ªwas somehow soothing wounds on Sevren¡¯s left arm, which had been mangled to a pulp.


    I wanted to learn more. I guided the young girl¡¯s aetheric touch where I could, sensing the weaves of intent that reached her and using those to pull us both into alignment with Sevren. But I still felt so weak. Even as my best friend¡¯s arm finally pulled itself back together, I struggled to keep my focus on the young sentry.


    Against my will, my weakened soul pulled away, wrenched back to the dark and wounded expanse of Burim. I exhaled a ragged breath, my heartbeat stuttering in my chest as I leaned forward.


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    I¡¯d felt a mote of Circe¡¯s emotions as my weakened soul failed to anchor itself any more. What I sensed unnerved me. There was an almost sunny, blinding glow of trust that seared my metaphysical eyes.


    Back when I¡¯d healed Tessia Eralith during Bilal and Bivran¡¯s attack on Zestier, I hadn¡¯t been able to so easily trace her heartfire back to her soul. There was a resistance. I couldn¡¯t get in without being allowed in. Thankfully, the elven princess had relented under my insistent, soul-deep request. Afterward, I¡¯d been able to coast along the flow of the heartfire that tied her Soul to her Vessel in an inverse of how I reached my own soul.


    But I¡¯d needed to ask. With Tessia, I¡¯d stood at the doorway, and I was granted permission. Something about how Circe was willing to open her very soul to me made my fists clench at my sides.


    Nobody should trust that openly, I thought, remembering Seris¡¯ eyes in the wake of my broken promises. It only leads to pain.


    My damning introspection drifted away as a familiar presence approached me along charred streets. The Undercrofts weren¡¯t as dark as they used to be, at least not this section. The holes seared in the ceiling let in too much sunlight for that.


    Still, Lusul Hercross blended in well with what shadow was left. There was a darkness to his intent and a subtle rigidity to his emotions I¡¯d never felt before as he strode through the rubble of the Undercrofts towards me.


    Dwarven refugees scuttled away from him as if he were a bright light and they were rats. It made the reality of the situation burn even more as he approached.


    Lusul had entered this war as a boy. He had been beaten into being a man.


    ¡°Sir,¡± he said sharply, standing at attention near me. Even with my cloak, he knew precisely who to address. ¡°I¡¯ve been sent to talk with you.¡±


    His nearly pink eyes shifted around the darkness, almost seeming to glow in contrast with his dark skin. I saw how the edges of his eyes trembled as he took in the shattered stone and melted rock all around us.


    The lavatides, strangely, didn¡¯t settle down or leave much behind but rubble. They passed over almost supernaturally, pumping their vile fire into the ocean. I would¡¯ve expected them to cool and solidify as the heat of the lava lessened, but they felt like a hit-and-run driver who didn¡¯t care about who they hurt, only fled the scene and left the victims in horrified shock.


    Lusul had empathized with these people not long ago. He¡¯d finally been able to dissect the intent of mages as it pressed around him, deciphering it all. He had wept.


    He didn¡¯t weep now.


    ¡°Seris sent you?¡± I asked, my shoulders slumping. It wasn¡¯t a question, not really. We both knew the answer.


    Lusul looked away in subtle guilt, unable to bear staring at the refugees. His intent radiated a kindred shame.


    How many other Alacryans feel shame at their conquest? I wondered, dusting my hands against my trousers. How many see the truth?


    I slowly stood from where I¡¯d been kneeling, mindful of a slight stream of molten rock nearby. The dwarves shuffled away with muttered apologies, their eyes empty.


    I knew I wouldn¡¯t be able to avoid Seris¡¯ notice for long, if I ever had avoided it at all. But still, as I loped up to Lusul, I wondered what he had to say.


    ¡°Scythe Seris Vritra has orders for you, Toren,¡± the second son of Named Blood Hercross said lowly. ¡°I don¡¯t see why I¡¯m delivering them to you, but¡­¡±


    I knew why. There was a distance between Seris and me that I couldn¡¯t quite grasp or understand. But it appeared that extended to how I now received her orders¡ªthrough a proxy, instead of directly.


    Ironic. Once upon a time, I¡¯d received a letter from Lusul claiming to be orders from Scythe Seris and immediately known it to be a fake. But now, what could I say?


    ¡°What does Seris need of me, Captain?¡± I asked tiredly, noting the badge pinned to the young man¡¯s lapel. He¡¯d been promoted again.


    Lusul was walking behind me, but his steps slowed enough that I had to stop and turn to look at him. ¡°She¡¯s ordered you to be seen,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°She decrees that you will act as you did in the wake of the Plaguefire Incursion.¡±


    I observed the young Captain for a moment in somber contemplation. I could see where this was leading, after all. I could pick apart Seris¡¯ scheme the moment Lusul said the words.


    She wanted to make me a symbol again. Some sort of beacon of hope in the wake of this devastation.


    Seris had agreed to only do that once. I¡¯d only agreed to be that once. But now, she¡¯d found me in an impossible position. Because what else could I do? Could I hide forever in her rooms, looking away from all the people that needed my help?


    Was this her plan all along? I suddenly wondered, feeling slightly sick. Was she always intending to drive me to help others in this city and become some sort of symbol against my will?


    Long ago, Seris had promised me that she would always tell me when she moved me across her political board, but it appeared that she was breaking that promise.


    I stared off with Lusul, the young man unable to meet my glowing orange gaze. I wasn¡¯t projecting anything through my intent. My control was too iron-clad for that. But he was versed enough in Alacryan politics to know instantly that whatever message he carried had extraordinary weight, even if he didn¡¯t understand why.


    Can I blame Seris for breaking a promise? I asked myself. Does she think I broke my promises to her? When she looks at me, is she seeing scattered hope?


    I exhaled a long, weary sigh. The cavern of Burim seemed to sigh with me, groaning as all the tainted heartfire brushed against my ears in tune.


    I turned back around, then began to walk. I didn¡¯t have any particular destination, I didn¡¯t think. At least not yet.


    With every step we took, though, I saw something in my fellow musician¡¯s posture crumble more and more. Something that had been bending for a long time was nearing a breaking point. It bled from his intent as he struggled not to ask me something.


    ¡°You should know by now that I don¡¯t punish questions, Lusul,¡± I said into the dim silence. We were walking toward one of the eastern camps near the edges of Burim¡¯s gaping maw. Vaguely, I planned to heal as many dwarves as I could. That was how I could perform the most good in the least amount of time, but I could feel that pressure in the orchestral man¡¯s intent as it built. It needed to burst before we finally parted.


    We were close to the edge, now. The flickering lights of the tents and makeshift earthen hovels beckoned us.


    ¡°What¡¯s it for, Toren?¡± he finally pushed out, stuttering to a stop. ¡°This war, these battles? All that¡¯s left behind?¡±


    I stopped walking as the man voiced the single question that had raged inside my skull for so many days. It sank into the stones and the air around us like smoke. Not the black, overwhelming kind, but the sort that was insidiously subtle. This was the kind of smoke that built too fast and too quick for you to realize there was a fire until it was far, far too late.


    And no matter how low I crouched, I was unable to avoid the fumes.


    Lusul''s question wasn¡¯t one that I could answer. I think we both knew that, even as he asked it. He just needed to say the words that had been hammering their way through his skull for so long.


    Seris thinks I¡¯m supposed to bring these people hope, I thought absently. That¡¯s why she wants me to go about and heal them and be visible and everything.


    But how could I be the hope of others when I felt so little of it myself?


    The moment of silent dread was shattered, however, as thirteen heartbeats brushed against my ears. They were all approaching at a quick pace. They didn¡¯t march with a soldier¡¯s gait, but certainly one of familiarity with the terrain and path.


    I turned, surprised to see a dozen dwarves and humans making their way through the rubble paths. My eyes widened slightly as I took in their disheveled forms, noting their many cuts and exhausted bodies.


    They stumbled to a halt as they noticed Lusul and I, many of them seeming nervous and uncertain at my appearance. I only recognized one person among them.


    The lead dwarf¡ªa thinner nonmage who was missing a couple fingers and whose eyes were slightly too far apart¡ªtook a hesitant, shaky knee as his heart beat with emotion. He took off his hat, clutching it in his hands and revealing a balding scalp.


    ¡°Lord Spellsong,¡± he ground out, his voice scratchy. It barely trembled. ¡°If we knew you were here, we would have¡­ Would have presented ourselves better.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t tell what the man was feeling from that heartbeat. Fear? Awe? Excitement? It unnerved me, how little I could understand of nonmages due to their nonexistent intent. The discomfort from how he knelt at all rankled deep in my mana core.


    My eyes scanned over the gathered crowd as Lusul slowly walked to my side, his eyes focusing for a moment on a single member of the crowd. They stared back at him, a solemn smile crossing their face.


    Anasia, I remembered. Lusul''s Dicathian lover. Her curly hair was nearly flattened from dust, and her hands fidgeted, but the fondness that radiated between the two was blatantly obvious to me.


    And Anasia¡­ there was something different about her. There were only twelve people here, but it felt like she had two heartbeats. Was it some sort of effect of the ambient distortions from all the death?


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you kneeling in front of me,¡± I said honestly, moving towards the dwarven leader. ¡°I¡¯m not like the Alacryans that you might¡¯ve met who would force you to bow.¡±


    My words had the opposite of my intended effect as they rippled through the crowd. It was with discomfort that I noticed more than a few heads lower with respect and reverence in their features as I tried to decipher their emotions.


    An uncertain dread churned in my stomach as the man raised his head. I almost recoiled at the light of hope I saw in his eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t bow because of that,¡± he said. ¡°My son¡­ he almost died to that asuran monster, Spellsong. But you fought him off. If you hadn¡¯t been here, he would¡¯ve fallen to that deity. We never had much, but we¡ªmy family¡ªwe are in your debt. And dwarves of Darv never forget their debts, Morningstar.¡±


    Strange, that they call me that, I thought mutely, Only after I¡¯ve been cast from Paradise.


    His words bludgeoned any response I might have had into silence even deeper than before. My eyes roamed across the gathered dwarves. I didn¡¯t know where they were going or what they¡¯d been intending to do before they¡¯d stumbled across me, but I felt disturbingly like some sort of golden idol laid before worshippers.


    Sensing my frozen indecision, Lusul thankfully cleared his throat. He stepped forward, speaking into the silence. ¡°The refugee camps regularly send out scourers to find new places to rebuild after lavatides,¡± he explained, working to take my mind off what the nameless dwarf had just said. ¡°These few Dicathians are part of one such expedition.¡±


    Lusul''s interjection, thankfully, allowed me to recover somewhat from my quiet shock. ¡°Oh?¡± I replied, hoping my voice didn¡¯t waver. ¡°I read a little about the protocols in place after lavatides, but never really got the chance to learn more.¡±


    The dwarf with missing fingers finally rose from his uncomfortable kneeling position. ¡°Aye, Spellsong,¡± he said with quiet gratitude. ¡°Most lavatides come predictably. Not this time, though. That asura¡­ He made it appear. His mana n¡¯ all made it all erupt.¡±


    Our mana, I thought, but didn¡¯t interrupt. Our mana.


    ¡°Our casualties¡­ They are higher. Higher than they¡¯ve been in living memory. But we carry on as always. It is our way,¡± the dwarf said gruffly. He nodded to me and Lusul, putting his hat back on as he rolled his shoulders. ¡°But we¡¯ve gotta get back to salvaging and rebuilding. It¡¯s the way.¡±


    He sent me one last shallow bow, before he began to walk around us. The other eleven followed, most of them sending me simple nods or averting their eyes entirely. Anasia was the only exception. Her fond, loving eyes were reserved only for Lusul as they made a silent promise. Her hands fidgeted, as Lusul told me they always did, but I imagined that they would be calm if the young Hercross but held them. So much passed between them in that single instant, three heartbeats that almost seemed to be one.


    They loved each other. So deeply.


    And as I was stewing in the depths of my own self-pity and self-blame, it finally clicked. I finally understood what I¡¯d been hearing.


    Even as the twelve strode away deeper into the darkness, that strange, weak thirteenth lifeforce clinging to Anasia, I felt a sort of looseness grasp every bone and muscle in my body. I shook slightly, unsure if I should laugh or cry.


    ¡°Lusul,¡± I said, my voice low and quiet, ¡°I need you to come with me.¡±


    ¡ª


    Lusul didn¡¯t enjoy being hauled behind me with telekinesis as I floated outside of Burim, but he didn¡¯t complain. The sun was high in the sky as I finally escaped the darkness for a bare moment. The sweet kiss of that blazing dot in the sky served to make me relax in a way I never expected.


    The sea was beautiful. Even with the many steamships that coasted through the Bay of Burim, they failed to banish the ethereal sea of reflective glass that stretched on into infinity before me. I watched it for a short time, finding a small spark of hope in how I could still see beauty in this world.


    But this wasn¡¯t about the sea. It wasn¡¯t about Alacrya, or Dicathen, or any of my personal worries. Right now, none of those mattered. And that was something just as beautiful as the sun in the sky.


    I brought us to the cliffside. It wasn¡¯t hard to find a slight outcropping of stone that could support us both as it looked out into the distance. I tapped down easily enough, allowing Lusul to tap down a moment later.


    The young man looked around warily, testing the ground beneath his feet. I could sense his anxiety, but it wasn¡¯t the sort of fear that he¡¯d felt the first time I¡¯d taken him aside. He swallowed, for a moment showing the boy he truly was, before he turned to look more at the view stretching out before us.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± he said softly, his pink eyes taking on a hue of orange as the sunlight reflected off them. He squinted, still struggling to adjust to the light. ¡°It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve been out in the sun. It almost feels strange on my skin.¡±


    Indeed, most of those stationed in Burim had been placed here for months on end. I imagined the darkness became a dread routine for them day in and day out.


    Hell, just watching the distant sky and tasting the scent of saltwater and the ocean made unseen burdens disappear. The rustle of the sea breeze through my long hair drew an exhale of simple pleasure from my lips.


    ¡°You asked me what it was all for,¡± I said, slowly lowering myself down and crossing my legs. I leaned backward on my hands as I stared down from above.


    It was so much easier to see it all from the sky. The dark smokestacks of the Alacryan steamships were ugly, but they failed to rip away the majesty of the sea.


    Lusul turned to look at me with uncertainty, his hands clenching at his sides. Strangely, I felt his intent rise with a subtle sort of fear as I lounged casually, staring off into the distance.


    But for the first time since the Hearth, I managed to achieve something close to¡­ peace. Even with the knowledge that so much loss and suffering brushed against the world itself, sitting here in the mid-afternoon sun and gazing at the sea provided me a sort of clarity that had been gone for so long.


    A deep breath in. A deep breath out.


    My mind was empty of even Aurora¡¯s reassurance. It had left me feeling lost and directionless, but now¡­


    What was it all for?


    ¡°I don¡¯t have an answer for you, Lusul,¡± I said after a moment, my voice laced with suppressed sorrow. ¡°I don¡¯t have an answer for myself, either.¡±


    That was the kind of question that could only be answered when it was all over. When every single action could be scanned and scrutinized in a maddening tirade of ¡°Was it all worth it?¡±


    ¡°Then why are we here, Toren?¡± Lusul asked, sounding almost desperate. He didn¡¯t sit. I didn¡¯t think he could. ¡°Are you just going to tell me that I need to keep doing what I¡¯m doing? Be a good soldier?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond, still looking out over the sea.


    ¡°Or are you going to say that all this will end in the High Sovereign¡¯s favor? That¡¯s it¡¯s all some sort of master¨C¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s about Anasia, Lusul,¡± I said quietly.


    The young Hercross lurched backward, seeming surprised by my words. He blinked once in surprise, then in fear. The silence that stretched between us was as vast as the sea beyond us. ¡°What about her, Toren?¡± he said after a moment. He ground his teeth. ¡°Do we need to cut it off now? Now that this war is starting in earnest?¡±


    I finally turned away from the sea, looking at the young Named Blood. I sensed it deep over his intent: his fear, his worry, and his love.


    A fool in love, I thought, a slight smile stretching over his face. He¡¯d throw it all away for her. His position as Captain, his allegiance to Alacrya¡­


    He was naive. Willing to thrust his hand into the fire, willing to be burned. Like I had been.


    I hesitated for a moment, remembering how so many of the phoenixes of my once-flock had tried to snuff that fire. For my own good, they¡¯d said. If I could stand among them now, with all I knew¡­ Would I¡­?


    Would I snuff that fire, too?


    ¡°She¡¯s with child, Lusul,¡± I said into the wind. ¡°She¡¯s with child.¡±


    Lusul didn¡¯t seem to hear me at first. His eyes were still challenging me for a moment, but I could see the moment my words registered. The precise moment that each individual word came together into a sentence that had meaning.


    ¡°W¡­ What?¡± he croaked, his intent crashing into the waves far below.


    ¡°She has two heartfires in her body. I sensed them when she saw us,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°One is strong and sure. But the other¡­ It¡¯s like a little candlelight, slowly being fed the gift of life.¡±


    Lusul fell to his knees. He tried to breathe inward, but all that he managed was a choking cough. His glass-like emotions shattered into a kaleidoscope of everything that made a person human. Wonder and terror and fear and hope and everything fought for supremacy in his mind as his breathing hitched.


    He didn¡¯t cry. He didn¡¯t weep. I wasn¡¯t even sure he would ever be able to through the deluge of emotions that assaulted his mind like a volcanic eruption.


    It wasn¡¯t a panic attack. No, it was an everything attack. There was too much crowding for space inside of Lusul¡¯s skull that he had no time to feel anything at all. His heartbeat became so erratic that I feared he might have a heart attack then and there.


    For a moment, I felt a hint of fear. I might have miscalculated in telling him so simply. I moved, about to offer a hand or some words to the overwhelmed mage, but he cut me off.


    His mana flexed, diving into his dimension ring and withdrawing something familiar.


    A violin.


    My outstretched hand halted as the young man grasped his instrument like the last bit of driftwood in a howling storm. His teeth were clenched so hard I feared they might shatter, but when he pressed his instrument to his shoulder, something in him changed.


    His darting, uncertain eyes met mine for a moment as he held his shaky bow to the strings. They searched my soul for something.


    I retracted my hand, my body relaxing as I recognized the answer he¡¯d found. His rapid breathing finally found a level of order as his body tensed, straining against the rigidity of the world and processing the equal wonder and fear coursing through him.


    Then he turned to the sea and began to play.


    And Lusul¡¯s intent sang. It rose and fell and professed itself through every sheer, terrified chord that he echoed. His arm was like lightning as it played through every emotion deep in his soul as they found their escape. Awe. Terror. Love. Uncertainty.


    It all flowed in a symphony fit to match any of my own. His intent radiated through the air, louder and more direct than it had been before. I found myself immersed in everything this up-and-coming Alacryan Captain felt about his life and his love.


    Lusul wasn¡¯t as skilled in a lone show as I was. He was part of an orchestra; one cog in a massive machine. But each of the emotions he burned into the sky in this lone symphony carried the weight of those missing parts. Each was another twisting gear in a great masterpiece, working towards conclusion.


    I thought I could see the path of his journey. The growth in his character as he shared his tentative love with Anasia. How he¡¯d told himself it would never work. How it would only doom him and his Blood. Then to a quiet hope as I enabled him, and then back to terror as the Alacryan fleet tightened down on this continent.


    And now, there wasn¡¯t that same hope as he¡¯d first felt. It wasn¡¯t a naive, ignorant hope. But I could feel the spark of something else deep within.


    A resolve to make hope. A relentlessness, an unwillingness to leave things as they were. A drive: for himself, for his lover, and for his child.

 Chapter 282: Those Secrets Kept

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Olfred didn¡¯t say a word. In the depths of a makeshift earthen sanctuary, I quietly worked to heal his wounds with my heartfire. The dwarven Lance was dreadfully silent as I let my dawnlight mist into his body, soothing aches and internal damage that had hounded him for days.


    He was laid out on a simple sickbed, covered from head to toe in bandages that were a rusty red color. Dozens like him lined the makeshift infirmary, but I didn¡¯t have the strength to see to them all healed. At least not right now.


    I¡¯d recovered quickly since waking up, a side-effect of my nascent phoenix bloodline. It had mixed well with my djinni heritage, allowing wounds to recover at truly absurd speed.


    It had barely been a week since the Breaking of Burim, and I was nearly back at my full strength. Outside the aches and pains that made my heart clench at odd intervals, my power was returning with every second. Wounds and stresses that would cripple any other mage washed away quickly.


    It felt wrong. Wrong that I should be well, and all those around me should still be burdened with the lavatide. But I could live with wrongness, couldn¡¯t I?


    I kept my mind focused on the stream of light coming through the window as I washed away the majority of the wounds that Olfred left. And as my heartfire brushed near his core, I noticed something else. A wound¡ªsix of them¡ªthat I wouldn¡¯t have ever noticed before.


    Insight gained from nearly breaking my core¡ªcracking it from an overflow of power, before healing it back over¡ªallowed me to see those pinprick marks in the Lance¡¯s core.


    I knew from that otherworld novel that these six points of nigh indetectable damage were what kept the Lance¡¯s potential and power limited. Arthur had fixed them by isolating a healing vivum spell from a strange scepter artifact granted by the Indrath Clan.


    Somehow, these six points prevent further purification of the core, I thought, in that clinical state of mind I entered whenever I performed surgery. Like cluster points blocking outward flow, it makes progression and perfect equity impossible.


    Did these array points forcefully guide a Lance¡¯s purification away from the intended spots? From what I understood of how a white core advanced to Integration, it wasn¡¯t so much purification as it was¡­ modification. I had a more intimate sense of how my body changed as my white core continued to advance, and I suspected that these array points somehow bound the Lance¡¯s mana away from continuing that modification.


    It was a simple thing, washing away the wounds in his core. After all, I knew the numbness that echoed through his intent deep in my soul. He didn¡¯t speak at all. Just stared forward with eyes that would never really see the world in the same way again.


    Olfred and I were both survivors of a storm-ravaged fleet, clinging to driftwood in the aftermath. Every now and then, a familiar name etched into flotsam would drift by, and all we could do was stare with empty gazes as they bobbed and flowed.


    But Olfred¡­ his pain was as great as mine. As deep as mine, if not deeper. Because he knew more of those names than I ever would. Knew Burim better than I ever would.


    A rasping voice spoke then, startling me from my thoughts. With some surprise, I realized it was Olfred.


    ¡°Years after I found myself in Rahdeas¡¯ care, I had some strange thoughts,¡± the Lance croaked, his voice dry like sandpaper. Each syllable sounded like it was laboriously scraped from a block of wood with a dull knife that barely held any room for inflection or sharpness. ¡°I had everything I¡¯d ever wanted. Food to fill ma belly. A man to call my father. A place where I felt I belonged, ya know?¡±


    Olfred shifted, staring toward the far wall with a distant expression. The scent of sterility and chemicals clashed with the moans of the sick and the stench of despair in every person¡¯s intent. ¡°I wanted to go back to Burim. Some parta me wanted to be a street rat again. Or maybe some part of me thought that was a better life than everythin¡¯ I¡¯d been blessed with. I had nostalgia for misery, Toren. But that feeling grips me now. It strangles me slowly.¡±


    He looked down at his hands, his eyes cloudy. ¡°I¡¯ve never disagreed with my father before. Always followed him, without question. He told me not to fight the creature coming to kill us all. And I¡­ disobeyed him. I couldn¡¯t let that monster tear everyone apart.¡±


    ¡°No, you couldn¡¯t,¡± I replied, suppressing the hateful hiss in my voice at the thought of Chul. ¡°It wasn¡¯t possible.¡±


    I thought often of what I could have done differently when Chul came to this city, striking at those I loved. And the more I contemplated it, the more I realized that I had taken the only action I could have. Part of me blamed myself for the devastation in Burim.


    But the fault lay at Chul¡¯s feet.


    ¡°Have you spoken with Rahdeas?¡± I asked quietly, certain what the answer was.


    ¡°No,¡± Olfred replied. ¡°Not since the attack. He¡¯s tried, but I haven¡¯t allowed it.¡±


    I nodded slowly, pushing myself to my feet. I exhaled a deep sigh, allowing myself to think of the past few days.


    Ever since I¡¯d revealed the growing life within Anasia to Lusul, something had finally changed in me. I didn¡¯t entirely feel better, but I could move. I could take each step I needed to without feeling like a gravity spell was constantly pulling me down.


    But Olfred was still stuck in there, lashed to the ground and bolted down.


    So what could I say to him? What could I say that would ease the dwarf¡¯s pains? This was supposed to be my gift. I was Spellsong, mender of body and heart. My words were supposed to fix things, but I could sense deep in my soul that the words I could offer wouldn¡¯t fix everything.


    Just like with Lusul. Sometimes there wasn¡¯t an answer that could wash away tragedy. I could only offer options. Sometimes, things couldn¡¯t be better. But there were still reasons to go on.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to grow again, Olfred,¡± I said, turning toward the exit. ¡°Focus on your core. Your body is healed, and your life is your own.¡±


    I spared him one more nod before I walked from the underground clinic. Dozens of shadowed eyes danced with emotions I couldn¡¯t sense from the waiting sickbeds, but I didn¡¯t let them weigh me down. Not right now.


    And when I stepped back amidst the roiling current of refugees and workers, those eyes became those of awe and hope. I could sense the intents of so many as they looked to me as a pillar of strength, just as Seris intended. Not many words were said, but I could taste their need for guidance.


    I forced a slight smile across my face as I returned the looks, feeling slightly heartened by how the intent around me swelled again with each man I met.


    As I walked through the crowd, I let my hands rest on the shoulders of those who I sensed needed it. I pulled up those who struggled to move.


    Whispers of my strength and what I had done to protect this city echoed like a wraith¡¯s ghostly breath through the crowds, bolstering the burgeoning relief and hope the dwarves and Alacryans both felt. It was a more subtle thing than I would have thought. Many people only needed a quick glance at me. Some asked me for a word or a swift healing for their aching bones, before returning to their grueling tasks.


    It was strange. After doing monumental tasks, moving boulders, and healing hundreds, I found that people still drew so much strength from the small things. When a man needed to run and he had no energy left, pulling him back to his feet was often enough to see him sprinting again.


    I exhaled a slight sigh as I neared the end of the gathering of people, before rising into the air. I made sure my posture was straight and solid as I rose, wings of crystalline mana forming about me.


    I looked down at them from above, taking in their worries and fears. Many had already gone back to their jobs. Woodworkers and stonecrafters were already working together to craft new homes and shacks along the Undercrofts and rebuilding the lives they lost.


    Dwarves hammered out their stones. Carved their oh-so-flammable wood. Grunted as they struggled through the labor. Mages helped them in the dozens, but few were to spare as Burim slowly turned their mages toward the war on the northern front.


    It¡¯s an endless cycle, I thought sorrowfully. Lavatide after lavatide, these people will suffer. They feel that nothing will change.


    Logically, they should be hopeless. The only thing that could bring them hope should be some sort of system-altering and societal change, right? Not just a helping shoulder or a touch of dawnlight to ease their suffering? How could they find hope in that, when all that was left for their lives was this on endless repeat?


    This was one of those times where Aurora would interject with some sort of helpful wisdom that would allow me to contextualize all this. But right now, the only solace I had was my own thoughts as I struggled to understand.


    I drifted out of Burim, going to the edge of the docks as I just stared at the waves. It was something I¡¯d taken to doing these past few days whenever the questions built too much.


    The sea reminded me of my soul before it had changed. When I stared out at it now, I could muster a semblance of peace.


    ¡°How can I be their hope, Aurora?¡± I asked the sun in the sky. ¡°How can I be Spellsong again?¡±


    I got no answer besides the gentle caress of the glittering gemstone so, so far away. I exhaled, letting my shoulders slump a bit.


    But then I sensed someone approaching. I¡¯d been reining in my senses slightly, so while I¡¯d been aware of this person, I hadn¡¯t been conscious of how powerful they were as they slowly approached with a few companions in tow.


    ¡°Lord Spellsong,¡± a smooth voice echoed, carried on eddies of sound magic. ¡°I have spent some time searching for you.¡±


    My eyes drifted to a singular woman as they approached. With purplish eyes and blazing red hair, the mage strode forward with assured confidence. Their aura pressed into the air like a deadly tremor, carrying quiet notes of their power.


    She was a white core mage. A powerful one, trailed by several mages in the red and gray livery of Alacrya. Her retinue bore sigils of Bloods from the Central Dominion.


    My pupils sharpened into pinpricks as I focused on her. Because I knew who she was. And immediately, I knew what her presence meant.


    The woman opened her mouth, then shivered as my eyes bored holes into her soul. She coughed into her fist, forcing her gaze to remain on me. Her intent ghosted with rising fear and uncertainty. ¡°I heard that you would likely be in this place, Spellsong. My name is¨C¡±


    ¡°Lyra Dreide,¡± I interrupted, tilting my head. ¡°Retainer of Cadell Vritra.¡±


    The woman¡¯s red brows furrowed as my intent swirled around her. She was strong. Nearly as powerful as Cylrit, if I were to be generous. ¡°Indeed,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Your reputation and abilities precede you, Lord Daen. Words and whispers of your strength reached me even back in Alacrya, but¡­ I have heard nothing of an ability to read thoughts.¡±


    Lyra paused, chewing on her lip as her emotions cycled. ¡°Can you read my thoughts, Lord Morningstar? My current position is known to very, very few. I was appointed barely a few days ago.¡±


    She seemed honest in her question. Respectful, too.


    ¡°It¡¯s not your mind that I can read,¡± I replied, tasting her strange uncertainty as her emotions bubbled around her. ¡°But I know who you are, and I also know what your presence here means, Retainer.¡±


    In that otherworld knowledge¡ªof a now impossible future¡ªLyra Dreide heralded the death of the Triunion Council. Her presence in Dicathen meant that this war was soon to end. Agrona was ready to be done with this farce. While she acted as Regent of the continent, Nico and Cadell trailed behind her like monoliths to break everything that remained.


    The woman shifted slightly. I felt mildly impressed by the fact that she was willing to meet my eyes. ¡°Indeed, Morningstar. I should not have doubted Scythe Seris¡¯ abilities to gather information,¡± she said, bowing slightly. The respect¨Cand fear¨Cshe felt were both very, very real. ¡°I have been tasked with informing you that Scythe Nico Sever has reached the northern battlefront and has set up station for an eventual assault on Blackbend City.¡±


    Scythe Nico. He was here, on this continent. The objective of my goals was already here.


    Hell, he¡¯d probably been here for some time. I just wasn¡¯t informed. Anger rose deep in my soul as I recognized why, but I showed none of this on my face. Instead, another aspect of the Retainer¡¯s words settled into my blood.


    ¡°You were sent to inform me?¡± I queried, stepping forward. ¡°Not Scythe Seris?¡±


    I held political sway, to be sure. It was an open secret that Seris had taken me as a ¡°paramour,¡± and that meant that whatever words someone whispered in my ear had a chance to reach the Scythe¡¯s. And with my personal power, I had no doubt that my word could herald the rise and fall of Highbloods all across Alacrya, even a continent away.


    But I was not the leader of this war front. Lyra had no true reason to seek me out first. She had no reason to go so far out of her way to even find me when a simple communication artifact would see the message conveyed.


    The Retainer nodded sharply. ¡°A valid question, Lord Spellsong,¡± she said simply. ¡°I was informed by Scythe Cadell that Scythe Seris was currently indisposed and plagued by her war duties. If I needed a swift and efficient way to convey information, you would be the best avenue.¡±


    My eyes narrowed. Truth. Lyra¡¯s heartbeat was steady and strong, and her intent showed no inflection besides ever-so-slight fear. She wasn¡¯t lying about that, but something still felt wrong.


    ¡°Thank you, Retainer,¡± I said, turning away. ¡°I¡¯ll deliver your words to her.¡±


    Lyra nodded, bowing slightly as I lifted into the air. ¡°Of course, Lord Spellsong.¡±


    My mind focused on this conversation with acute attention as I floated back toward Burim, thinking of what this meant. Nico is here. He¡¯s stationed north, just within my grasp.


    It didn¡¯t take me long to reach the Divot¡¯s landing platform. All around, nervous Alacryan captains darted about, bowing to me and whispering about ¡°Spellsong¡± and ¡°Morningstar.¡± I ignored them as I strode into the deep caverns, trying to shift this new information into my plans. I needed to kill Nico. He needed to die. And we were so close to the end of this war.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The journal on that otherworld novel burned in my mind. It suddenly felt far, far heavier as it weighed on my soul.


    Arthur will fight Nico and Cadell soon. Or they¡¯ll carry out an assault on the castle using Sylvie¡¯s bond, right?


    Agrona needed Arthur alive. He couldn¡¯t afford to kill the new King of the Triunion, not until he had Tessia in his clutches and the Legacy reincarnated.


    I¡¯ll stop them before that happens, I vowed again, my kindling anger latching onto the one certainty I had. I¡¯ll¨C


    A discordant thrum of pain struck my ears from all sides, a heartbeat reverberating and overlapping anguish. I froze for a second in a dim hallway as I tasted that pain, recognizing its source immediately.


    Seris. A wash of intent and a squeezed heart made my movements a blur as I shot through the tunnels at absurd speed, the wake of my passing blowing paintings from the walls, snuffing sconces of their flames, and tearing apart the immaculate tiles as my vision sharpened. What¡¯s happening to her?


    I was in front of her office doors in barely a fraction of a second, my mind working at fevered speeds. Telekinetic shoves blew them nearly from their hinges as I traced Seris¡¯ pained heartifre, my mana burning hot in my veins.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to find the Scythe. Amidst a swirl of blackened and burned papers, artifacts, and various instruments, Seris curled in on herself on the floor. With every beat of her heart, tongues of black soulfire sputtered and popped around her, carving little divots into the cobbles as she moaned in pain.


    On instinct, I engaged my Acquire Phase as I called my heartfire to my fingers, zipping to her side as I tried to understand what had happened. Seris¡¯ hair clung to her face in a wave of sweat as she heaved for breath, her eyes unfocused as she clutched at something in her hands.


    I recognized it immediately. Her cloaking artifact.


    And as my Acquire Phase revealed Seris¡¯ dark heartfire to my sight, a nauseating horror wormed its way through my body. Goosebumps pebbled my skin as I stared at that stain of white amidst her black lifeforce, the energy eating away at her essence.


    On instinct, I reached out a hand to my Scythe, my lifeforce misting between my fingers. I¡¯d failed to heal this before when Inversion had pierced her heart, and I could tell instinctually that this infection had taken root. Like a seed burrowing deep into the soil and spreading its roots as it grew, this inverted decay clutched at the woman¡¯s lifeforce in a way I could hardly comprehend. And with every pulse of her blood, it spread along her veins and into her body. Like poison.


    I was halted in my tracks, however, as Seris¡¯ pale hand grasped my wrist tightly. Her grip was impossibly tight, like a doomed man¡¯s grasp on his sword hilt as he faces impossible odds. If I were any other mage, my wrist would have crumpled from her grip.


    ¡°No,¡± Seris hissed, still curled in on herself as she fought down spasms. ¡°No, you don¡¯t know what it will do.¡±


    I opened my mouth to protest; to say that I could heal her. But then something in the ambient mana shifted, drawn inward by the Scythe¡¯s control. Her breathing was strained as she slowly drew in power, bringing it to her core in a subtle flood of energy.


    Mana rotation.


    And I could sense it in her blood. That poison of inverted decay was slowly pushed back as Seris¡¯ skin fumed with dark mist, her healing factor working to erase the lingering motes of energy along her body. She trembled as it happened, and I felt the urge to try and do something. Anything to ease her pain.


    But the grip she kept on my wrist¨Cand more than that, the utter darkness that coiled in her eyes as she stared at me¨Ckept me at bay.


    It took some time for Seris to fully banish the spread along her veins and reassert control with her core. Her heightened breathing evened out ever-so-slightly as her eyes fluttered closed, a limp exhaustion making her body slacken as she uncurled on the floor.


    Her dress spread around her like a silk tapestry, each purple-lined thread seeming to absorb more of the light as she stared up at the ceiling. Her hand was still clenched around my wrist, and that burning ember of white still tainted her lifeforce.


    ¡°You said you¡¯d fixed it,¡± I said quietly, not knowing what else to say. ¡°But it¡¯s still there, Seris.¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond for a time. Her other hand limply fiddled with her cloaking artifact. ¡°You sensed my distress,¡± she muttered, sounding¡­ disappointed. ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to. I¡¯d improved the design.¡±


    My eyes flicked to the cloaking artifact, then back to the Scythe. Her head lolled to the side, looking me up and down with lazy exhaustion. ¡°It¡¯s from your power,¡± she said between breaths. ¡°Who knows what will happen if your heartfire tries to push it back? It might even nourish it. Make it worse.¡±


    ¡°So you didn¡¯t even tell me?¡± I asked. ¡°Just kept it hi¨C¡±


    ¡°Because what would telling you help?¡± Seris hissed. ¡°You needed all the rest you could get, Toren. Already, your mind and resolve have been stressed nearly to breaking. What would telling you accomplish, other than shatter you further?¡±


    She looked at me, serious and resolute. ¡°When you awoke, you were barely maintaining your sense of self. How would you have handled it if I told you the truth? You were already dealing with so much. So much. I couldn¡¯t burden you with more.¡±


    Seris sounded honest. Her intent reinforced her words, backing them with the weight of her care for me. But with her cloaking artifact deactivated, there was something¡­ more. A clawing desire that bore no name.


    I hadn¡¯t even realized she¡¯d put it back on, I thought distantly, feeling a strange sense of loss. When did she do it? When did she change it?


    The Scythe rolled forward, moving her arm to grasp my shoulders. ¡±Help me up,¡± she demanded, her hair still clinging to her head. ¡°I need to continue my work.¡±


    Silently, I slowly assisted the woman to her feet, noting the trembling ache of her body. I held her small, thin form with one arm as I maneuvered her to her table, giving her two points to lean on.


    Absently, my eyes drifted over the scattered papers all about. War plans and troop placements along the northern borders. I couldn¡¯t catch much, but I did see one thing.


    Seris would be departing Burim soon for the northern front of the war. She would be leading the charge personally, and she hadn¡¯t even told me this.


    The Scythe immediately went back to whatever she¡¯d been doing before her mana attack had struck her. Though her fingers shook, she acted otherwise as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if this was just a daily occurrence, she sifted through papers and reports with amazing efficiency.


    She knew Nico and Cadell were on this continent, and she hadn¡¯t told me that, either. Hell, Cadell had probably been the one to order her. Who else could order a Scythe but Agrona¡¯s Hand?


    I stared at the silver-haired mage for a time, really looking at her. And I noticed things I hadn¡¯t before. Her hair clung to her head with sweat, true. But there were strands out of place and a lack of decorum that I hadn¡¯t picked up before. She usually took the time to apply makeup every morning, painting her eyes with dark eyeliner to accentuate the silver of her hair. She¡¯d work on her nails as well. Her dress bore a few wrinkles here and there as well which told me she hadn¡¯t bothered to care for it in the usual way.


    If it were anyone else, this wouldn¡¯t have meant much. But for Seris, it meant so much. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Lyra Dreide approached you, I suppose?¡± Seris asked, not looking back at me. She seemed almost afraid to meet my eyes again. ¡°She told you of Cadell and Nico¡¯s landing, then?¡±


    I remained silent for a time, my gaze drifting to the papers as a sort of heaviness settled over my soul. ¡°This war is going to end soon,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what the High Sovereign wants us to think,¡± Seris muttered, holding a particular paper up. ¡°That¡¯s what he wants you to think, in particular.¡±


    She pointed a finger at it, a single dot of soulfire igniting over the digit. Under the strange non-glow of the dark flames, hidden ink slowly revealed itself on the page.


    Like invisible ink, I thought. But it¡¯s only noticeable because of her unique basilisk arts. An ingenious way to pass messages.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that Nico is here?¡± I asked after a moment, my voice solemn. ¡°You know what my¨C¡±


    ¡°So you could rush off and get yourself killed?¡± Seris snapped, turning to look at me with sudden intensity. That ember of hellfire over her finger sparked, devouring the page she¡¯d just read and leaving nothing else. ¡°Cadell being here means that Agrona himself has focused his full attention on this continent at last. We don¡¯t have the leeway for you to throw yourself at enemies anymore. We had our time to truly act and take risks before, but not now.¡±


    I felt my muscles tense at the Scythe¡¯s sharp words, forcing myself to remain calm. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Seris moved toward me, a strange light in her eyes as she ran one of her hands through mine.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let you die, Toren. You don¡¯t get to kill yourself in a suicidal charge against Agrona¡¯s Hand,¡± she said, her hand clenching around mine. ¡°Everything hinges on the balance now. This is the most dangerous time we have ever experienced, and I cannot let you act in a way that might break everything.¡±


    ¡°So you kept this knowledge from me to keep me safe?¡± I asked, my words sounding as if they were uttered by someone else.


    Seris had tried to keep me locked away in the birdcage of her rooms. Hidden from the world and smothered, just like the phoenixes of the Hearth. Just like Agrona.


    What did the High Sovereign say to Sylvia to justify her capture?


    ¡°He¡¯s focused on you,¡± Seris said, her voice carrying shadowed undertones as she moved closer. ¡°I always suspected he let us go in that Cathedral, but he¡¯s testing you. Testing us. You understand this, don¡¯t you?¡±


    The way Seris was acting; the way her fingers dug into my hands¡­ The subtle disarray all around us, when she was usually a picture of perfection¡­ It all started to flow together. And the final piece was on the edge of her emotions she¡¯d been so, so desperate to hide. What I could understand, deep in my soul, had been intentionally hidden with her cloaking artifact.


    Grief. But a grief that could not be felt. It could only be smothered and ignored, because to feel it would make it real.


    I gently laid my hands on Seris¡¯ slim shoulders, feeling a question build in the back of my throat. ¡°Seris, where is Cylrit?¡±


    Seris tensed slightly. It was for a fraction of a second, imperceptible to everyone and everything. But not me. ¡°I sent him on an undercover operation to meet with Arthur Leywin,¡± she replied smoothly, giving no indication that my question had rattled her. ¡°He will return eventually.¡±


    One truth, and one lie.


    ¡°What happened to him, Seris?¡± I whispered, feeling tired again. ¡°Please, tell me.¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s expression shifted as she stared at me, a strange mix of annoyance and resignation churning through her intent. ¡°Too perceptive,¡± she muttered. ¡°You see too much, Toren.¡±


    I see too much? No, I didn¡¯t see enough. Because Seris wasn¡¯t showing me all she could.


    ¡°Will you keep lying to me?¡± I finally asked, tilting my head as the entire conversation filtered through me like hot needles. ¡°Am I just another pawn on the board to manipulate now? A sword to be pointed at the asura, because you have nothing left?¡±


    The slap that cracked across my jaw had the strength to shatter boulders and decimate steel, but it hardly made my chin turn. It was nothing compared to what the Scythe could usually do, but the sickness in her blood had weakened her. Seris¡¯ hand moved to try again, but I caught her wrist.


    The edges of her eyes shone with the subtle moisture of tears, her face curled up into a rictus snarl that would haunt my nightmares. ¡°You have the gall to talk about lying,¡± she snarled, her eyes narrowed as she stared up at me. ¡°The audacity to look down on me for keeping secrets, yet it was the asura you would have called brother who did this. So why should I tell you everything, Toren? Why? My trust in you has already burned me!¡±


    ¡°Because he was my friend, too,¡± I snapped back, looking down at the woman as she trembled with contained rage. ¡°Because, just maybe, neither of us can do any of this alone!¡±


    Seris laughed. It wasn¡¯t the beautiful chime of bells I¡¯d heard before, but a lash of a whip. ¡°That is fair, I suppose, my Spellsong. Maybe I will tell you everything. You¡¯ve been so desperate to know my soul, haven¡¯t you? But in turn¡­¡±


    Even as her wrist was restrained by my hand, her eyes drifted lower, down to the pouch on my belt. ¡°Tell me what¡¯s in that notebook of yours. Tell me what future you foresaw so long ago, and maybe I¡¯ll trust you.¡±


    My mind had been boiling. Boiling with anger that had been building ever since I¡¯d torn at Chul¡¯s soul and the death toll had reverberated like gongs in mine. I had half a dozen retorts ready to hurl back at Seris for whatever excuse or lie she would use to try and divert my attention again.


    But I hadn¡¯t expected this. As her words registered with me, I felt a shock traveling through my limbs that made me release the Scythe. My eyes widened as I took a defensive step back, unconsciously shielding my notebook from Seris¡¯ view.


    ¡°What made you think¡ª¡±


    ¡°That you knew the future?¡± Seris completed my sentence for me, rising into the air as she stared down at me. ¡°Do you think me a simpleton, Toren? Did you think me blind? You told me your greatest fear, once upon a time. You said that you feared everything breaking because of you.¡±


    I took a single step back, blinking as if I¡¯d seen a flash of light. Seris¡¯ hand lashed out, grasping at my collar. ¡°You told me that Mordain Asclepius dabbled in future sight. And all the actions you¡¯ve taken, to try and influence this war¡­ I wasn¡¯t certain at first. Not nearly. But you have never been able to lie to me, Toren Daen.¡±


    I swatted Seris¡¯ hand away, feeling my fury rise again. ¡°This isn¡¯t the same,¡± I argued, but my words felt empty in my mouth. ¡°You have no idea¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then let me read it,¡± she hissed. ¡°Be honest with me, Spellsong, and maybe I¡¯ll be honest with you. That seems fair, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond. Even as Seris¡¯ aura tried to drown and compel me into submission, I said not a word. She stared at me, each second a demand in and of itself. And deep in those underlying motes of grief, I could sense what she truly wanted to know.


    But I couldn¡¯t. Not now. Not ever. I couldn¡¯t show her the truth of this world. I couldn¡¯t let her know that Burim had never broken in that otherworld novel. That the war had been quick and efficient there, without countless civilians massacred all across Dicathen.


    Seris read the truth in my eyes. Her rigid form slowly relaxed, her eyes taking on a softer expression. ¡°That is the way of it then, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said quietly, drifting backward. ¡°This is your line. You want me to hope, but you don¡¯t even feel it yourself.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond.


    Seris slowly and methodically brushed out her dress, creating a semblance of order. ¡°I promised you a chance at the Anchor,¡± she said, her intent distant. ¡°It will come. Eventually, before this war is over. But that isn¡¯t your job now. Nico is under my command, and that only makes it more difficult to shift blame. And you are the only piece I have left to shift.¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look Seris in the eye. Anger burned with exhaustion deep in my gut. But I wouldn¡¯t let this go. ¡°You think Cylrit is dead,¡± I said aloud. ¡°You¡¯re certain of it.¡±


    ¡°Your brother said as much,¡± Seris said, her voice struggling not to sound as tired as mine. ¡°I have heard nothing from him, either. And I am a realist: not taken by flights of emotion and wishful thinking. We can¡¯t indulge in empty hope, can we?¡±


    Can¡¯t indulge in empty hope?


    I found myself thinking of the dwarves so far below in Burim, who kept moving along anyways despite the countless cycles of despair that held their lives. All reason dictated that they shouldn¡¯t have hope. That there was no point in putting each foot in front of the other.


    Seris turned back to her papers. She seemed content to try and ignore me now, subtly dismissing me in the way politicians did. You are free to take the door at any time, that posture said. I have no more time to listen to you or be entranced by what you might offer.


    Seris felt hopeless, now, in a way I had never seen before. Just like me. But she didn¡¯t need to be.


    ¡°Cylrit is alive,¡± I said quietly. ¡°He¡¯s still out there.¡±


    The Scythe tried to present an unaffected air, but from how her movements stuttered for a heartbeat, I knew my words had struck their mark.


    ¡°I can sense his soul, Seris. I¡¯ve seen it these past few days. I wouldn¡¯t be able to see it protecting you from the darkness if he wasn¡¯t still alive.¡±


    Seris burned another paper. Then another. Then another. Her intent fluctuated wildly, and I could feel as my words took root in the same way as that seed of inverted decay in her heart.


    The Scythe continued to sift through her paperwork for a time as her intent built and built. She didn¡¯t want to listen or give my words credence. Because that meant they might hurt her again. Trusting me might mean hurting her again.


    But she was logical, too. She couldn¡¯t ignore them, either.


    Seris finally turned, looking at me through eyes that were as beautiful as they were exhausted. They tracked across my face, searching every crease. They lingered on my brows. On my cheeks. On my lips. Then back to my eyes.


    She tried so desperately to see a lie, but she could find none.


    ¡°He¡¯s somewhere to the northeast,¡± I said as the Vritra-blooded woman¡¯s expectant stare drew the words from my lips. ¡°I can sense¡­ locations of souls, to a degree. It¡¯s hard to explain, and it''s less distinct the further I am from them. But right now, he¡¯s somewhere far in that direction.¡±


    Seris put it together faster than I did. ¡°I had sent him due north previously. Not east. So he must be in the Dicathians¡¯ flying castle over the Beast Glades,¡± she said, sounding sorrowful. ¡°Out of our reach.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not out of our reach,¡± I insisted, moving forward. I took her shoulders again, staring her deep in the eyes. ¡°I can sense it. I can trace back to him.¡±


    ¡°And break the treaty we forged with Virion Eralith?¡± Seris said, sifting for excuses. ¡°To keep you from this war? If you would go flying off after this¡­ dream?¡±


    ¡°Do you care for that treaty more than you do Cylrit?¡± I countered, trying to imbue her with warmth. With hope. ¡°Are words spoken in regards to a war that is already decided and about to end worth more than him?¡±


    Seris chewed on her lip, staring up at me. She looked so¡­ vulnerable. I¡¯d seen her vulnerable before. She¡¯d allowed herself that around me. But it was different right now.


    ¡°They have an asura there,¡± she said, finding another avenue to try and shut me down. ¡°Taci Thyestes is¨C¡±


    ¡°A child,¡± I countered, my voice rising with fervor as I held Seris¡¯ thin frame. ¡°I¡¯ve already fought asura, Seris. I¡¯ve already won against one.¡±


    Silence lingered for a time as the Scythe wilted inward, her mind warring with indecision deep down. Her intent warped and twisted as logic and emotion warred for dominance. She wanted to trust. She so desperately wanted to. The low crackling of the sconces on the walls almost mirrored the depths of her thoughts.


    ¡°No matter what I say, you¡¯ll try anyways,¡± Seris finally said. ¡±No matter if I threaten or cajole or blackmail you, you¡¯re going to try and find him, won¡¯t you? I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t stop you from trying.¡±


    I chewed the inside of my lip, feeling slightly abashed. ¡°I have a bit of a track record of¨C¡±


    ¡°Doing stupid, foolish things without my authorization,¡± Seris cut over me, melting slightly like candlewax into my touch. ¡±Because you''re an idealistic simpleton who can¡¯t understand how the world works.¡±


    I thought about what to say for a little bit, but I really didn¡¯t have anything to deny her. Again, my mind drifted to the dwarves of the Undercrofts, so ready to stand up again as they drew strength from my presence.


    But also¡­ also how I drew strength from how they continued on. The fact alone that people could continue to survive despite the despair helped me find a little of what I¡¯d lost in my battle with Chul.


    And also Lusul. Neither of us knew hope, yet. But there was a chance to make it.


    I still have that same drive that pushed me to make that ultimate decision in the Hearth, I thought, feeling the Brand of the Banished on my neck. The same willingness to make decisions that might hurt, but need to be done.


    ¡°We need to make a plan if we want to get him back,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I need your help, Seris, to make this work. We¡¯re going to make it work.¡±


    We would make hope.

 Chapter 283: The Core of Selfishness

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    ¡°We still hold the Triple Fork,¡± Trodius Flamesworth said gravely, punctuating his statement by maneuvering one of several pieces representing the Dicathian forces along the map toward Sapin¡¯s southeastern corner. ¡°All through this week, there have been attempted incursions to take the critical point, but none have been successful.¡±


    The expertly trimmed noble spared me a short glance from where I lounged at the head of the war table, his hard eyes asking a silent question. I nodded slowly.


    ¡°Rumors claim that a Scythe leads from the camp opposite the Triple Fork, but they haven¡¯t been seen yet. We maintain air superiority at the moment, but our numbers are strained and stretched attempting to hold out this crucial point. Blackbend City is adapting effectively to being a ways away from the siege.¡±


    As Trodius continued to speak, I let myself observe the gathered nobles. All of those present were handpicked for their competence in warfare and strategy. I¡¯d effectively strained out all the useless bureaucracy from the Triunion military, leaving it as an efficient and respectable force. Even King Grey¡¯s ghost seemed to almost approve as he stared into my soul.


    An elven commander, Rashel Chaffer, stared grimly down at the many little tile pieces on the far end of the map that represented the Alacryan fleet stationed around the Earthmother¡¯s Isle. A little over a week ago, those ships had arrived and plummeted the military into a dour mood. The next phase of the war was beginning.


    And sure enough, Alacryan troops traveled up the Sehz River along Darv¡¯s eastern border, using it to try and punch straight through towards Blackbend City, and there were rumors that another Scythe was at their head.


    That led us to our current meeting. Many of Dicathen¡¯s brightest military minds gathered in Xyrus City to make a plan for the future.


    ¡°But our numbers are struggling to deal with the southern attack and keeping an eye on the rest of the border. Our troops are like a pack of world lions struggling to fend off cinder hyenas from a kill. They¡¯ll slowly wear us down if something doesn¡¯t change,¡± Trodius said simply, before setting down the prodder and adjusting his immaculate suit.


    The attention of the gathered elves and men shifted, focusing on one particular member that stood at my right hand. They were shorter than most present, but their power was greater than any others present except my own. Their stares were harsh and restrained as they focused in on a single outlier.


    ¡°The tunnels along the northern coast are what¡¯s stretchin¡¯ numbers thin,¡± Elder Buhndemog Lonuid, the dwarven representative of the Triunion Council, said darkly in response to Lord Flamesworth. His muscled body tensed as he let the distrustful stares of the other military men wash over him. ¡°Guerrilla attacks from the dwarven rebels are making it hard to focus on the Sehz River in the far east. They just pop out of the tunnels, strike, then retreat before anyone can respond. Makes it hell for us all.¡±


    It was ironic, how much of the racial animosity between elves and humans had been stymied by another, greater hatred: that of the dwarves for betraying Dicathen.


    ¡°New weapons created by the artificer Gideon Bastius will help to address these issues,¡± I said dully, cutting through the tension in the room. ¡°It will allow us to centralize our troops more between Mayburn and Blackbend City to better control Sapin¡¯s southern border.¡±


    The mad inventor in question had borne a haunted expression as he¡¯d witnessed the results of his latest weapons, but that hadn¡¯t stopped him from presenting his findings to me. We both understood that there were lines that were crossed in war.


    I stepped forward, all present in the room lowering their heads slightly in respect as I took the prodder. ¡°The Alacryans are clearly making a push for Blackbend City. Controlling that city means controlling the rivers along the border. If that city falls, then solid resistance on our southern front will be near impossible. To this end,¡± I said, gesturing at the Wall a ways to the east of Blackbend, ¡°it is unlikely that another attack will come from the east, considering how fortified our position in the Beast Glades is. Still, it is standard military tactics to surround and cut off resistance. We should expect that the probing forces from the south are not all that we will face.¡±


    I¡¯d encouraged the military leaders all around Sapin¡¯s south to dig trenches in preparation for the guerrilla warfare and land tactics that would soon swarm them with the true introduction of Gideon¡¯s manalock muskets and cannonry.


    My gaze panned across the gathered lords, noting the phantom of King Grey looming in the corner. ¡°Do any of you have any suggestions for how to reinforce our flanks and ensure that no other fronts might be opened to trap us in?¡±


    A hand rose near the edge of the room. I nodded to Lord Chaffer as he stepped forward, giving him permission to speak.


    ¡°Rumor has it that a Scythe is stationed near the Triple Fork,¡± he said, his perceptive gray eyes narrowing. ¡°Should not a Lance be deployed to match them? They pose the greatest threat to our stability in the region.¡±


    I nodded slowly as murmurs went through the nobles. I¡¯d been waiting for this question. In fact, I¡¯d intentionally let someone else ask it first to guide the conversation.


    ¡°A good question. Lance Silverthorn will be sent to reinforce the river forces to deter any potential incursion from the Scythe,¡± I said carefully, measuring each and every syllable, ¡°and if need be, to face them in combat.¡±


    Most of the Lances had direct missions now to ensure the safety of the continent, each stationed in places that would make the best use of their abilities for the next phase of this war. And while I didn¡¯t entirely agree with Tess¡¯ plan¡­


    I couldn¡¯t deny it. I couldn¡¯t ignore the possibilities that it brought, or the tactical advantages. It would risk a confrontation with a Scythe. That single Scythe whose name Uto had refused to surrender.


    Talks continued for a time on troop placement, effective use of the new manalock weapons that were being distributed to nonmage soldiers, and the artillery that was slowly being rolled out. An air of hope and determination suffused the army commanders as I talked with them for a few hours more, outlining a clear course for the war moving forward.


    I¡¯d successfully instilled the grit and determination required to break our enemy into these men. They¡¯d seen what our new weapons could do. They¡¯d smelt the gunpowder and felt the power of the Lances. But as I finally dismissed them for a time, I felt the fa?ade of a dutiful, unbreakable king slowly mist away.


    I waved my hand dismissively, conjuring a chair of stone that I practically melted into. I ran a gloved hand through my shoulder-length auburn hair, staring up at the beautifully mosaiced ceiling. King Grey stood at the opposite end of the long, rectangular table, his crown glinting in the mana artifact light.


    The supports within my mind wavered as I exhaled a long, weary sigh. The aether in the atmosphere danced and shivered in a way that was distinctly unnatural as it brushed across my growing beard. I almost imagined I could feel the gentle caress of each purple mote, but¡­


    There was something unnatural about the ambient aether. Something changed and moved in it. I hadn¡¯t been able to sense it when I¡¯d been a student at Xyrus Academy, of course, but now? I could almost taste the complex weave of reality-defying magic that kept the floating city aloft.


    Xyrus was massive. At fifteen miles in diameter, the floating city was an artifact of a bygone age. The understanding and insight into aether required to anchor this massive landmass in the sky was beyond any modern mage. It made this world feel truly unique and impossible compared to my past life.


    Except¡­


    The djinn, I thought, tracing the weaves of aether in the world around me as the spellwork of those ancient mages stood strong, despite uncountable ages since their destruction. Did they know that cities and teleportation gates would be all that was left of them? S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I tried desperately not to think of the revelations that Sylvie and Rinia both had dropped into my lap. The idea that Kezess and the dragons of the Indrath Clan had genocided a peaceful race simply for comprehending more about aether than any others made questions about the purpose of this war bubble up uncontrollably at the edges of my frayed psyche.


    My bond was waiting at the flying castle now. She¡¯d told me that she expected Windsom to arrive soon because of Rinia¡¯s words, and she would be there to greet him.


    And in the meantime? I needed to do my job. I needed to be King.


    My eyes flowed over stylized depictions of waves on the ceiling, imagining a small ship as it was constantly slammed by roaring storms from every single angle. I could almost picture the crew inside desperately trying to tie down the sails and shovel out buckets upon buckets of water. The captain struggled not to succumb to the weight of all the lives under his care.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°I always viewed this life as a second chance,¡± I said quietly, wondering if I¡¯d finally gone mad. ¡°I got the chance to build up everything I¡¯d thrown away in my past life. A family. A home. A future.¡±


    I painfully raised my head. The simple gold crown atop my auburn hair ripped at my scalp and clung there like a demon¡¯s grasping claws as I stared at King Grey¡¯s phantom on the other end of the war table.


    That ghost had always, always judged me. Every time I looked at the edge of my eyes, he was there watching. He viewed himself as separate from it all. Above the petty squabbles of mortal men. But for the first time, I let myself peel apart his layers, too.


    ¡°How could you not feel it?¡± I asked, tilting my head as I locked gazes with King Grey. ¡°How wretched were you that you never felt the heft of a tombstone atop your skull? How little humanity was left in you that you couldn¡¯t comprehend the truth of your station?¡±


    I¡¯d never addressed this vision of mine, fearful of giving into the notes of madness and fueling them more. But the judgment felt wrong now. After all I¡¯d grown to understand and the burdens I carried on my shoulders, what right had this husk to think himself above me?


    I slowly stood. My legs creaked like faultlines shorn through the crust of the earth as I stood to my full height. I rolled my shoulders, exhaling my anger as I slowly strode toward that break in my perception.


    King Grey turned to face me, his mirrored crown glinting in the low light. His eyes were empty and formless portals to the mutilated abyss of my former mind as I matched them with ones of brilliant azure.


    ¡°This life isn¡¯t a second chance,¡± I hissed lowly, looming over the demon in the depths of this empty room. ¡°It¡¯s hell. Every step is wrought with cleansing pain as I am punished for the sins of my past. That¡¯s what you want me to think, isn¡¯t it? And you¡¯re the demon at my shoulder telling me that this is what is deserved. You want to pull me back into that pit.¡±


    Visions of the struggles I¡¯d endured flickered through my skull. Of fighting for my family. How I endured the same hopeless position I¡¯d thrust Marlorn into so long ago. How I would bear the weight of the Dicathian lives lost on every tide of this war.


    ¡°You felt none of it, King Grey,¡± I sneered, tilting up my chin as strength swelled in my body. ¡°You are a ghost. A phantom. A blade with no wielder. You were made through mutilation. But I have pieced back together everything that you left behind. So watch, if you want. But do not judge. Stay sheathed, weapon.¡±


    I leaned forward, staring deep into the abyss of this figment of my mind, wondering in part if I had truly broken inside. I could almost imagine the tension in the room swelling as our intents clashed and fought.


    I looked across the being in front of me, for the first time seeing what a broken thing it was. A heartless automaton without any soul behind it. This shade had always been so terrifying to me. But as all four elements of mana bolstered me against the world and the aether of Xyrus itself seemed to sing, I knew I was more than this creature.


    And I saw something in its eyes change. Not that judgmental stare, but disappointment. As if I were some pitiful dog that had bit the hand that fed it.


    King Grey opened his mouth, and I wondered what he would say. Would he try and justify himself? No, that was out of character. Would he scorn me? Or would he continue with his one-track demand of my suffering? What could ever justify that look in his eyes?


    ¡°Arthur,¡± a familiar voice said.


    I froze. King Grey had not spoken. That voice had come from behind me.


    The phantom in front of me flaked away on dusty particles of purple aether, his eyes closing as some streak of emotion pierced them through. Something I could not catch, could not understand.


    I couldn¡¯t tell. The shade of King Grey disappeared without a breath too quick for me to latch on.


    I slowly turned, feeling that strength I¡¯d felt a moment before draining from my shoulders. The pristine mantle around my neck felt like a noose with which I¡¯d hung myself as I stared at the person who had found their way into the most well-guarded station in Xyrus City.


    His ash-grey hair was shorter than I last remembered it. It was far more well-kempt, too, but that didn¡¯t hide the haunted azure eyes below. His beard was shorter, about the same length as mine.


    My father stared at me mutely, his eyes trailing over me with an unreadable expression.


    I hadn¡¯t seen him in months. Not since our argument outside Blackbend as I tried to convince him to leave the war. The last words he had said to me¡ªthe very words that had finally pushed me to take up my crown once more¡ªechoed through my skull.


    ¡°Sometimes, all we can do is what we can, even if it means that it hurts those around us.¡±


    I¡¯d sent him to Xyrus, alongside my mother. As the sole Commander of Dicathen¡¯s forces, I couldn¡¯t let my parents and those I cared for remain at risk of being taken hostage by Agrona. I had to think logically.


    As logically as Virion had when he¡¯d withdrawn Tessia from the war.


    My earlier confidence and gusto evaporated as Reynolds mutely stared at me. I stared back.


    ¡°Your mother didn¡¯t want to come,¡± Reynolds said quietly. ¡°I got the young elf, Albold, to talk to his father to let me in. But Allie¡­ She was afraid of what she¡¯d see in you.¡±


    I clenched my teeth, letting out a wheezing breath. ¡°That was wise of her,¡± I said, assuming what mantle I could. ¡°I¡¯ve been busy.¡±


    ¡°Busy,¡± Reynolds repeated dully, his eyes roaming over the military board behind me. ¡°Alice has been busy, too. She¡¯s doing a lot of research with the Xyrus Academy mages. Things that help people.¡±


    His eyes took on a distant cast as he spoke. Indeed, I¡¯d dropped a heap of information with the Xyrus researchers, ordering them to take steps forward in things such as germ theory and virology. I didn¡¯t have an ounce of expertise in those fields, but I could point those far more capable than I in the right direction. After all, wasn¡¯t that a king¡¯s duty?


    Reynolds¡¯ gaze seemed to focus again, the nestled darkness at the edge of his eyes finding its way to his center. ¡°Ellie says she¡¯s learning more than ever now. You told her about your past life. Gave her books on ki manipulation.¡±


    ¡°I did,¡± I said awkwardly. I felt stuck, only able to react rather than take action as my father said each word. ¡°I thought they would help her.¡±


    Reynolds opened his mouth, then closed it. He walked to a nearby wall, unable to linger in the doorway forever. Each of the footfalls of his boots made me wonder if Xyrus itself would fall from the sky from its weight.


    He stared mutely at a mural of some ancient battlefield on the side of the wall. Unable to do anything else, I stared at the wall, too, trying to come up with something to say. The crown on my head made it bow towards the ground.


    Infinitely painful minutes creaked by as I tried to pull emotion from the eyes of a painted commander. I couldn¡¯t, but I tried. I wanted to feel what that man in the mural felt right now. Strong and courageous to face the battle before me.


    ¡°I came here wanting to be¡­ angry,¡± my father finally said, his words hoarse. ¡°Tessia told us why you did¡­ this. She came to us and told us what pushed you over the edge to claim the mantle of King, because you¡¯ve been hiding from us. You¡¯ve kept away from Xyrus. You haven¡¯t responded to any of our messages.¡±


    I didn¡¯t reply. I didn¡¯t think I could ever form a word again.


    ¡°That all makes sense, Arthur,¡± he said, his shoulders shaking. ¡°But I want to hear it from you.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to hear?¡± I finally pushed out, my voice raw as if I had never seen a drop of water in my life.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just a way to force us into this city,¡± he said. It was a statement, but I knew it was a question in equal measure.


    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t,¡± I echoed in agreement. Visions of that moment that felt like a lifetime ago seemed to paint themselves across the wall in front of me. The fight between the councilors as Virion¡¯s comatose state became more and more apparent. The news of Vildorial¡¯s fall. Aldir¡¯s interruption. The dawning horror as Taci elucidated his plans for us ¡®lessers.¡¯


    What would this war look like if Taci had succeeded in taking the mantle? I feared to imagine it. I couldn¡¯t fathom why Kezess Indrath had thought it a wise idea. He would see us destroyed.


    And that left only one option. Only one that might see the people of Sapin survive.


    ¡°Because you were right, Dad. Some things¡­ Some things are bigger than us all. There are some causes that are worth fighting for. Even if they bring us pain.¡±


    Perhaps I could have figured out some way to smuggle Tessia, Ellie, and my parents to some distant dungeon in the Beast Glades and avoid the war forevermore. But I¡¯d realized, in that critical, crucial moment, that I couldn¡¯t. Maybe Grey could have. But Arthur¡­ the Arthur I was becoming?


    He would never be able to.


    Dad¡¯s legs trembled as he stared into my eyes, something inside them horrifying him. I swallowed, wondering if he saw the lingering corpse of Grey, or perhaps the madness of my broken mind.


    He thought of what to say for a long time. I thought I could hear the gears in his mind turning as he slowly began to understand.


    After all, he was right. When we¡¯d last spoken, it had been made clear to me how selfish I was. And he was right about what it meant to be a soldier in a war. The deaths of every person were given meaning through those who continued on in their name.


    ¡°How much of yourself will you burn away?¡± he finally asked.


    It was my turn to think. A question like that deserved an honest answer.


    ¡°I¡¯m not burning myself away,¡± I decided, recalling my long-past duel with Taci in the Beast Glades. In that moment, I¡¯d found a way to build myself within this role. I could grow and change instead of crumbling. ¡°This is something I can do. It hurts. I stumble, and I fall. But it¡¯s something I must do, too. I¡¯m finding my pace.¡±


    I looked back at the mosaic of a battlefield commander. ¡°When this is all done and the Alacryans are broken and beaten, I can rest then. When I can be certain that others get their second chance, too.¡±


    ¡°Will there be anything left of¡­ my son to be there when all is said and done?¡± Dad asked.


    I chuckled slightly, mildly amused by the irony of our positions. I had no doubt that my father saw it, too. It served to bring back some strength into my bones. That very strength I¡¯d thought had abandoned me after my dad had first appeared here like a ghost. ¡°Are you feeling selfish, too?¡±


    Reynolds laughed a little, too. It wasn¡¯t a mirthful laugh, like mine. More like a man overwhelmed and overburdened as more and more and more piled up in front of them. That laughter slowly transformed into gasps as he fought for breath. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, silent tears streaming down his face. ¡°Yes, I am.¡±


    I moved a bit closer to my father, keeping my attention forward as I massaged his back with an arm. He¡¯d done the same for me the last time we¡¯d met. When I¡¯d felt weak and powerless, he¡¯d been there to console and lift me up as a father should. But now, he was lacking in his strength.


    And I was more than glad to share what I had in reserve with him. He held his face in his hands, weeping silently.


    He didn¡¯t cry even when I revealed the truth of my past life to him, I thought sadly, being what pillar of support I could. But this¡­ This was the breaking point.


    As I stood by his side, I pondered the strange nature of my relationships in this world. I wondered about that painful and beautiful push and pull of love and sorrow that underlaid everything.


    I would see this war through. There would be enough of Arthur left at the end of it all. For Mom, Dad, Ellie, Tessia, and Sylvie.


    And for a moment, the crown on my head felt lighter.

 Chapter 284: Infiltration

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I kept my back pressed to the rock, my mana signature utterly and completely masked as a squadron of blade wing riders soared overhead. The large mana beats flew in clear formation. Their stoney beaks clacked ominously and their metallic wing membranes reflected the setting sun.


    The men atop the mana beasts were attentive. Far, far more attentive than I would have expected.


    But I shouldn¡¯t have underestimated Dicathen¡¯s scouts. Especially not this close to their central base of operations. Each of them was at least a yellow core mage, and their spellwork was honed to a precision point.


    Their focuses and spells rang clearly in their intent ambient mana like alarm bells as they swept over me. I huddled against the rock on the forest floor of the Beast Glades, keeping my heartbeat and manaflow even.


    Finally, the triangular formation of mana beasts wheeled in the sky, returning to their patrol routes. I watched them go high above, calculating the speed and direction I¡¯d need to fly to get closer to the Dicathians¡¯ flying castle. Those patrols were infuriatingly common as I got closer, and they always made me halt in my progress for fear of being spotted.


    I had the location of the flying castle burned into the back of my skull. Before I¡¯d set out on this mission, I¡¯d sent out a desperate plea to Cylrit¡¯s soul. In it, I bound up all my care for Seris. The understanding that she¡ªwe¡ªneeded hope. That his life needed to be saved to prove to us all that things weren¡¯t empty.


    And, just like Tessia, he¡¯d allowed me past his soul-wrought barriers. I hadn¡¯t been able to heal the Retainer I called friend; that would be too risky for his position. But I¡¯d narrowed down exactly where he was.


    The flying castle always traveled over the Beast Glades, shrouded by illusory mist and covered with djinni aether weaves. Seris had made cursory attempts to locate the center of command for the Triunion Council, and while it was simple to narrow down its location to a radius of around fifty miles due to the constant aerial patrols, that was still a large section of ground to cover.


    My hand drifted up to my neck, clutching at the pendant there. Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact felt warm in my hands, the illusion stamped over my body filling me with paradoxical calmness. With the dark clothes I wore, I blended into the night like nothing else.


    She¡¯d granted me this as we worked out a haphazard, risky plan to infiltrate the castle. And with the pendant active, my intent and mana signature were forcefully suppressed, alongside my heartbeat. My physical features shifted, granting me an entirely new appearance. My hair¡ªnormally a vibrant, strawberry blonde¡ªturned black as pitch with streaks of alluring navy. The structure of my face changed ever-so-slightly, and the scars and runes that singled me out were covered in a thin facade. My orange eyes turned to a dark, stormy gray.


    In short, I looked like Renea Shorn¡¯s brother.


    And with this, I thought, resolve flowing through my veins like liquid fire, I can complete this plan.


    I waited for a few minutes, making certain that the blade wing patrol was gone for the time being. Then I allowed mana to flow along my limbs, before blurring along the ground. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to run into S-class mana beasts this deep in the Glades, but I was far too fast for them. In a streak of crystalline white, I wove like a serpent at speeds incomprehensible to most in a desperate surge north.


    I didn¡¯t have much time. I knew from that otherworld novel that Agrona was more than happy to condemn his Retainers to death if they proved to be a liability. Perhaps his end had changed in this timeline, but I knew Uto could have died from the High Sovereign activating a spell hidden deep in his core. And with the war reaching a crescendo, neither Seris nor I knew how much time her Retainer had left.


    It took a painfully long amount of time to grow near. Or maybe not long enough. Several more times, I had to pause to avoid more aerial patrols as they drew closer to me. Stop and go. Stop and go. Stop and go.


    I might have felt anxious about this, once. I might have felt nervous fear and anxiety clutching at my body as I approached that monolith of ancient djinni culture. But in the wake of the Breaking of Burim, the act of infiltrating and going undercover didn¡¯t rattle my nerves like it used to.


    Even the potential danger of Taci Thyestes was just another obstacle to overcome.


    The sunset made part of my blood-red soul wither inward as the world reflected my inner Sea. The darkness provided the perfect cover as I continued to inch closer and closer with every hour. Like a wolf hunting a sheep, I slowly stalked closer and closer to the lingering call of Cylrit¡¯s soul.


    The moon was new, far beyond the glimmering constellations. I stared up at it as I finally reached my destination.


    I remembered Seris¡¯ shadowed soul in the depths of my Sea. I could almost imagine her cloaking that lunar sphere in darkness to give me this one chance. Her magic banished the light of the moon this one time, granting me a window of perfect opportunity.


    I wouldn¡¯t waste it.


    The flying castle wasn¡¯t immediately obvious. As high as it was, it was wrapped in a blanket of misty clouds that hid it from prying eyes. But I knew.


    The late-night sounds of stalking mana beasts and quiet summer wind blew through the trees around me as I stared upward, mana enhancing my eyesight as I pierced every bit of gloom barring my way. I bent my knees, mana swirling around my feet as shrouded wings glimmered around me. Slowly, deliberately.


    I needed to be fast. So fast that nobody could perceive me. There were certainly scouts and sentries placed to watch for incursions from the ground, but if I moved faster than the eye could even perceive?


    A thin stream of telekinetic force slowly fuzzed into existence in front of me, pulsing like a beating heart. It lengthened and widened and adjusted itself nearly automatically as I ran all the necessary calculations in my head. The clouds high above tried to hide their secrets, but they would not stall me.


    Fireflies danced in the forests around me as the world held its breath. Little living embers flickered in and out in tune with my heartbeat as I stared toward that castle.


    Then I rose into the air.


    The accel path laid in front of me might have echoed with a sonic boom once upon a time, but my sound magic greedily hoarded any and all noise that dared to try and escape. The air tried to burn as it seared past my face, but fire mana ripped away the heat as I ascended like a bullet fired from a railgun.


    I pierced the clouds without a sound. In a fraction of a fraction of a second, water vapor streamed across me like impossible ribbons tearing across my flesh.


    And then my feet hit stone. The stone cratered slightly from my impact, and my body ached a bit from the sudden stop.


    I listened, clinging to the spire of stone that supported Dicathen¡¯s flying castle. Any shouts of alarm? Any calls for reinforcements?


    Nothing. No flex in the ambient mana or sign of alarm as the massive castle drifted through the mists, trailing them like tassels of steam.


    It wouldn¡¯t change my plans if I had been detected. They were intentionally crafted so that if I were, I could rescue Cylrit and get out safely so long as I reached him first. But still, I didn¡¯t want to risk a frantic rush through the bowels of the castle with an asura nipping at my heels. Detection was nearly inevitable, but it could be delayed.


    I let out a breath, brushing a lock of navy hair out of my face. Part one was successful.


    I slowly crept my way up the cliff of stone, inching my way towards one of the courtyards. My fingers sunk into the stones as I gripped the rock, hauling myself up as I clung like a spider. I ascended at a pace that would put any mountain climber of my previous life to shame. I could feel my pulse in each of my fingers as the wind and mist buffeted me in the darkness.


    I reached the edge of the courtyard. I struggled to catch mana signatures further in due to the sensing artifacts, but I could still hear the heartbeats of everyone near me.


    There was something eerie about this castle. It almost felt dead to my senses, like a graveyard that was supernaturally still.


    Back on the ground, I had to regularly compress my sense of lifeforce to avoid being overwhelmed by the billions of insects and bacteria and everything that had a note of aether inside, but even if I didn¡¯t hear those heartbeats, I was still aware of them on a subconscious level.


    But this djinni fortress of ancient times had nothing. It was devoid of small insects, birds, beasts, and everything else besides the people inside. It was like a floating corpse with ribs of towering stone and entrails of glass.


    I shuddered lightly on the edge, waiting for a patrol of guards to pass by. Internally, I reviewed the layout of the castle that Seris had provided me. The warded balcony would get me onto the second floor, and I¡¯d have to chart my way down to the dungeons on the lowest levels.


    I kept Sonar Pulse at a very limited range, the sound spell giving me detailed feedback of the layout beyond my sight. A three-dimensional perspective of the walls and corridors imprinted itself into my head to the rhythm of my heartbeat, but it got fuzzier the further my sound mana traveled.


    So far, Seris¡¯ information checked out.


    I heaved myself up onto the ledge, then darted for the nearest wall. I could sense a dozen wards trying to find purchase on me, but with Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact and my own superb mana control, none found their mark.


    The castle didn¡¯t actually look like a castle. With its tall arches, looming windows, and powerful buttresses, it reminded me more of a gothic cathedral from my previous life, except without the religious symbolism. A ring of powerful stone walls blocked me from truly reaching the insides that I crouched behind, listening to the heartbeats and mana signatures of guards within.


    The tall spires of the castle cast eerie shadows as they carved through the mist, the fog swirling and grasping for purchase as we streamed through the nighttime clouds. They reminded me of a canoe on a still lake in the dark, the fog slipping past the prow on a moonless night. A massive, floating ring of powerful arches floated around the castle like planetary rings rising and falling in tune.


    I suppressed a shiver as I thought of the Central Cathedral. When I¡¯d stepped into that hollow box so long ago, an asura had been waiting for me to tear their claws across my soul.


    And in this one, too. In this empty box, another deity waited to taste my blood. The similarities were painful in my skull, the absence of my bond and the dark spot in my mind seeming even more apparent.


    I exhaled through my nose, cementing my resolve. Then I peered over the stone walls towards one of the small courtyards below.


    A stretch of grass separated me from a faraway door. Outside it, two guards stood resolutely. Their gauntleted hands gripped the hafts of their rune-inscribed spears, and if it weren¡¯t for the steady and attentive beating of their hearts, I would have thought the full-plated men were statues.


    Shit, I thought, narrowing my eyes. Both around solid yellow core stage. And from their intent, they aren¡¯t pushovers either.


    I felt an itch in my core as I resolved myself on what I needed to do next. The path to the dungeons wasn¡¯t far from where I was about to enter, and if I put on the speed it would only take a few seconds to get there. If I incapacitated the guards, it would only give me a few minutes as a window to reach the cells before someone inevitably found their bodies.


    Taci Thyestes is in this castle somewhere, I thought, my heartbeat rising as I remembered the last time I¡¯d crossed blades with an asura. Would he¨C


    The guards stood sharply with a suddenness that made my fists clench, turning their heads behind them to the door. The one on the left pulled out some sort of artifact that looked like a scroll, before exchanging a look with his companion.


    ¡°Should only take a minute,¡± Lefty said quietly, only audible due to my enhanced hearing. ¡°But by the asura, it is annoying.¡±


    The one on the right shrugged. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s annoying or not,¡± he bit out. ¡°I¡¯ll do it this time.¡±


    Righty nodded, then slipped inside the door. I could hear his heartbeat as he walked swiftly away. Not a normal guard rotation, I didn¡¯t think.


    I narrowed my eyes as I crouched on the wall. That simplified things greatly, especially since I¡¯d heard their voices.


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    Concentrating on my core, I gathered energy for a sound spell. A little refracting singularity grew on my palm, before I threw it toward one edge of the courtyard.


    The spell burst, and a sound echoed out. It was like a stone hitting a wall as it reverberated through the courtyard.


    The remaining guard¡¯s head turned to the side, his eyes widening in alarm behind his helmet, then narrowing in suspicion. I could sense his suspicion over his intent as he called on his mana. He slowly began to walk away from his post, his spear poised as he kept his senses ready.


    Perfect.


    I blurred forward at hypersonic speeds, suppressing the sound of my passing as I phased into existence in front of the doors. Like a ghost on the wind, I smoothly opened the door, then slipped inside.


    I could sense the guard outside through his intent and heartbeat. He would return to the door soon, and I crossed my fingers that I hadn¡¯t left any traces.


    I scanned the corridor I¡¯d found myself in. The carpet was a deep maroon as it stretched on into the distance, and I could sense guards on patrol a ways away. Doors lined the walls at set intervals, and from the heartbeats and mana signatures I could hear¡­


    People slept behind those doors. It appeared I was in a residential wing of the castle, likely for the less important folks like cooks, maids, and soldiers. The restful pulses of their lifeforces and lack of mana signatures among most of them told me as much.


    Not far from the dungeons, I thought to myself. I¡¯m on the ground floor. Only a few twists and turns to reach the bottom floors.


    I frowned, sensing the guard who had left returning down the hallway. My eyes darted to the many doors, mentally calculating my next step.


    Sorry, nameless person, I thought as the guard¡¯s clanking footsteps echoed in my head. I¡¯m going to have to break and enter.


    I walked quickly to one of the nearest doors. The inside was utterly empty of people according to my sense for lfieforce, which made it the obvious place to hide for a moment. I conjured a thin shrouded blade, then swiped it along the gap between the door handle and frame, cutting through the lock.


    I pushed open the door, then closed it behind me. The room inside was utterly dark, which served my purposes just fine. But I was alone as the guard walked past¨C


    ¡°You could have knocked,¡± a raspy voice like crackling bark said. ¡°Now I¡¯ll have to get that¡­ lock replaced, too.¡±


    A shrouded dagger appeared in my hand as my mana thrummed. My eyes honed in immediately on a shriveled form sitting upright on the bed, just barely contrasted in the utter darkness.


    Without a millisecond of delay, I enveloped the figure and me both in a barrier that blocked all sound from escaping. If I needed to silence this person, nobody would hear their struggles.


    My muscles tensed as I prepared to move, but something stayed my hand. My grip tensed around my shrouded dagger, the reflective crystalline mana drinking in the darkness. Why couldn¡¯t I sense their heartbeat or mana signature? That should have alerted me to their presence. Scratch that, why didn¡¯t Sonar Pulse pick up their body?


    I didn¡¯t know what I was dealing with, and that made me cautious.


    ¡°You¡¯ll need to get that lock fixed sometime later,¡± I said quietly, modulating the sound of my voice with my magic as I stared at the silhouette on the bed. ¡°But I¡¯ll need to put you to sleep for a time, stranger.¡±


    ¡°Stranger¡­ No, that¡¯s not who I am, Toren Daen,¡± they¡ªshe¡ªreplied. ¡°You know me better than you should. And you have caused me¡­ no end of trouble,¡± she pushed out wearily.


    Something scratched at the edges of my mind as the old woman¡¯s voice reached me. They knew who I was. But I was cloaked by Seris¡¯ artifact. They shouldn¡¯t know me.


    Unless¡­


    A single ember of fire fuzzed into existence under my command at the center of the room, banishing the darkness around us.


    A living corpse of an elf stared at me with unseeing, blind eyes. Yet as those orange-green pupils reflected the firelight, I got the sense that they saw more than anyone else. She clutched a cane with white knuckles as the bed seemed to swallow her whole. The very act of tensing those muscles made me wonder if she¡¯d fall apart like a child¡¯s clay-made stick figure.


    I felt my emotions dip painfully as I finally sensed what was left of her lifeforce, and I knew the identity of who spoke with me. No little horror suffused my mind as I heard what little was left.


    ¡°Rinia Darcassan,¡± I said quietly, uncertain if I should bow my head in respect or not.


    ¡°Avier did what he could to¡­ pull away that guard for you,¡± she pushed out, like the wheezing bellows of a dying engine. ¡°We really do need to talk.¡±


    I ground my teeth, the horror at how low her heartfire burned clashing with a rising urgency to see my mission done. The entire endeavor relied on my speed, but I¡¯d never factored this elf into my plans. Would she raise the alarm?


    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to talk with you,¡± I said quietly, already questioning if this mission was doomed from the start. If Rinia had foreseen my involvement with her aevum arts and had Cylrit moved¡­ ¡°I have a mission here.¡±


    ¡°After all you¡¯ve done to alter the future, I think I deserve a word with you,¡± the elf argued. ¡°You probably want to know if what you¡¯ve done in this world will lead to a positive end, don¡¯t you?¡±


    I clenched my fists, my mind grinding to a halt as thoughts of Cylrit momentarily evaporated.


    It¡¯s a trap of some sort, I told myself, grinding my teeth as I stared at the elf. This is some plan to stall for time, or keep me waiting.


    But if Rinia had wanted me dead, then I wouldn¡¯t be facing her in this room. I¡¯d be facing Taci Thyestes.


    And I was curious. I was so painfully, horribly desperate to know. After the Breaking of Burim, the question of if this world could be salvaged stung in my mind. And Rinia was a seer. Her path was aevum.


    ¡°Are you here to criticize me?¡± I said, hoping my words sounded strong. I knew they didn¡¯t. They sounded defensive and scared.


    In that moment, questions of how Rinia knew who I was and what she knew about me felt inconsequential. What she knew of The Beginning After the End, my previous life, and all of it didn¡¯t matter anymore.


    Rinia Darcassan had always cautioned Arthur about the dangers of altering the future. I¡¯d read as much in that otherworld novel. And I¡¯d seen as much in how Chul had attacked the people I cared for and how Arthur had crowned himself King.


    Rinia¡¯s face¡ªlike the scarred landscape of stone that had been weathered and battered for millennia¡ªdipped into something somber and sad. ¡°No, Spellsong,¡± she said weakly. ¡°The Lost Prince is a hypocrite when it comes to altering the future, but I am not. You¡¯ve done the best you could with what you had.¡±


    The elf slowly, painfully pulled herself to her feet. She stumbled under her own weight for a moment, but I was already at her side. My strong arms supported her, not letting her aged form fall.


    The elven seer reminded me of a collage of sticks barely held together with twine. She felt almost cold, so much of her heartfire burned away.


    Rinia coughed, leaning into my touch for support. She trembled as she finally pushed herself to her feet. Those eyes couldn¡¯t see anymore, but when she turned her head to look at me, I still felt painfully seen.


    ¡°You are still kind,¡± she said, exhaling a rickety breath. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±


    I worked my jaw, not knowing how to respond to the elven seer. Hell, part of me didn¡¯t even know what to do at all.


    ¡°Lead me to the¡­ wall over there,¡± the elf said. ¡°There are hidden passages through this castle that will¡­ take you where you need to go. You don¡¯t have much time.¡±


    I exhaled an uncertain breath, then helped the withered elf to the wall. She withdrew something from the folds of her dress: a silver medallion that glimmered with a purple sheen. Instantly, I knew it was an aetheric artifact, even though I couldn¡¯t sense the fluctuations within.


    The seer pressed it against the wall, and the stone rippled away like sand. Beyond, a passage I hadn¡¯t been able to sense even with Sonar Pulse loomed darkly.


    I stared into that long, twisting passageway like one might stare down the gullet of a snake. Goosebumps trailed along my skin as my reservations and fears made themselves known once more.


    Rinia waited for me to come to my decision, but I suspected she already knew my choice.


    I¡¯d already taken so many risks stepping into this castle. What was one more?


    I supported the old elf as I stepped into the passageway, keeping my mana close at hand. Yet no matter what I tried, I couldn¡¯t sense anything past the walls as they slowed downward.


    ¡°I never got to meet Aurora Asclepius when I visited the Hearth,¡± Rinia said casually, the click-click-click of her cane on the stones sounding in time with my heartbeat. ¡°It is sad that I do not get to meet her now, either. I have been told that she was a wonderful woman.¡±


    There was no visible source of light within the hidden passageway as we walked, barely enough room for us to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. I felt contained, my wings pressed deep into my back and restricted from flight.


    But the words about Aurora served to lighten my mood somewhat, allowing my shoulders to untense. ¡°She is not of the Asclepius anymore, Lady Darcassan,¡± I said quietly, keeping my attention on the path forward. ¡°We were banished.¡±


    Rinia snorted at my side, taking my words in stride. ¡°Avier left the Hearth for how shortsighted the phoenixes could be, instead devoting himself to me. It is not a marker of failure, as¡­ you seem to think.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how much the elven seer could understand about me or my past simply from a glance, but thoughts of the Hearth made me deeply uncomfortable. My failure there had been a stake driven into everything I perceived myself as.


    ¡°Mordain and the rest view the future as something that we mortals can¡¯t afford to alter,¡± she said quietly, slumping from exhaustion. We paused for a moment in the passageway as she caught her breath. ¡°Too afraid to risk¡­ failure, that they never try at all. But better to try and fail, than to never try at all.¡±


    ¡°Even if it results in the deaths of thousands?¡± I countered, wondering where this was going. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you know about me, but Mordain tried a talk like this before, too.¡±


    I¡¯d learned that the best way to deal with mages who knew too much was to just pretend like it didn¡¯t bother you. But it was very hard. I wondered if Rinia had undergone an existential crisis from her world being a part of some novel. Or was that hidden from her sight?


    ¡°My sister was a diviner, too,¡± the elf said, and for the first time, I tasted a mote of her weak intent. It ghosted across my senses like a dying fall breeze. ¡°Better than me, actually. Far more talented and skilled. Too skilled.¡±


    We stopped in the middle of a passageway as we reached a crossroads. Four paths before us, each with little lighting artifacts illuminating their rune-inscribed arches. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°It is better,¡± Rinia continued. ¡°It is better to regret your actions than to have never acted at all. Because then you know where you can improve. If you never try, you never fail. There is no greater regret than¡­ never acting at all.¡±


    Her intent was like the last embers of autumn as they fizzled out into winter. It was deep and mournful as it drew up foreign thoughts and fears from my mind.


    ¡°The Indrath Clan decreed that my sister should die, and they used Virion as the murder weapon.¡±


    I closed my eyes tight, my vision swimming at this revelation. I knew from my otherworld knowledge that Lania Darcassan, former Queen of Elenoir, had burned away all her lifeforce to constantly thwart assassination attempts on her husband¡¯s life. But this¡­


    ¡°I didn¡¯t intervene,¡± Rinia said, her words hollow in the darkness. ¡°I took Mordain Asclepius¡¯ teachings to heart. What right did we diviners have to truly mold the world to our whims? We¡­ We might become Kezess Indrath. The regret you feel¡ªthe questions you have about what the future could be? Keep asking those, Toren Daen. But never stop¡­ Trying.¡±


    As if her words had no weight at all, the elf pulled on my arm. ¡°Now come on. Take the leftmost path. My bones are starting to act up from standing still for so long.¡±


    I tried to digest the elf¡¯s advice. I only had one vision of the future, one path laid in front of me. And with that knowledge, I¡¯d tried desperately to shift this world into one that could have hope.


    I exhaled a deep, world-weary sigh, unsure if I should laugh or collapse. ¡°You should be somewhere in Darv in your little sanctuary waiting for the end of this war,¡± I said bitterly. ¡°Not jump scaring me in the middle of a fucking bedroom.¡±


    Rinia chortled at that as we descended ever lower. From my mental map of the castle, we were inching towards the dungeons, at least. Cylrit¡¯s soul beckoned. ¡°The moment that your bond reincarnated you, Toren Daen, Fate broke.¡±


    I halted in my steps abruptly, my body locking up. ¡°Fate what?¡±


    ¡°It broke,¡± the elven seer said simply, as if she were discussing something as simple as the weather. ¡°It pieced itself back together eventually, but what the future could be and couldn¡¯t be was irrevocably altered the moment Aurora decided she¡¯d had enough of Agrona¡¯s dungeons. It took me a long time to make sense of it all again. Don¡¯t let old Mordain fool you, either. I wonder if he can see anything at all these days.¡±


    I looked down at the little elf, feeling like I was seeing her for the first time. ¡°Then the reason you¡¯re not in the desert¡­¡±


    ¡°King Arthur gives us a chance,¡± she said simply, prodding me and tapping her cane in an agitated way. ¡°It¡¯s very¡­ arrogant. Self-centered of you, to think that every change in this timeline is because of you. And hurry. You¡¯re still on a time limit.¡±


    My head swirled, a headache slowly growing in the back of my skull as I mechanically put one foot in front of the other. We passed silently through a few branching pathways in this maze of tunnels, but Rinia subtly guided me along each one to the correct way forward.


    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± I finally asked, unable to keep the questions back. ¡°Why are you even helping me?¡±


    The more she spoke, the more I was certain this elf was trying to help in some way, even if it only sparked more questions. It reminded me irritatingly of Mordain himself, the way she spoke with a point obscured from me that she seemed to expect me to divine through insight and magical maturity.


    ¡°Your Scythe and Arthur can¡¯t afford to hold animosity for each other,¡± the elf replied after a moment. ¡°The asura already make everything so complicated, but we lessers need unity. And Agrona¡­¡±


    Agrona. My blood chilled in my veins, the very name making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. This deep underground and near a dungeon, I was reminded painfully of the yawning echo of Taegrin Caelum¡¯s vaults.


    Aurora, I thought, exhaling a trembling breath, I need you.


    We stood at the edge of the door. Rinia didn¡¯t pull me forward this time, instead staying silent and still as she seemed to cave inward on herself. Dread rose from the depths of my heart as I waited for her to say her piece. The wall was solid in front of us, and I felt a painful urge to rush through it and be done with this all. On some instinctual level deep in my soul, I knew how close Cylrit was.


    I could run, now. I could ignore whatever Rinia was about to say. I could cover my ears and cower, pretending that it didn¡¯t exist.


    But if there was one thing I refused to do, it was run.


    ¡°What about Agrona, Rinia?¡±


    ¡°He wants you to grow, Toren Daen,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t see it all. I see less and less of what I want to. But this war is a smokescreen. You and Arthur¡­ His eyes are on you both.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I ground out. ¡°I¡¯ve always known, ever since he set me free like a dog off its leash.¡±


    It was true. I¡¯d been able to ignore it and suppress that truth for so long, distant as I was from Alacrya. That ever-present eye didn¡¯t feel ever-present like it did on my home continent. But it was here.


    ¡°Good,¡± Rinia said quietly. ¡°Good.¡±


    She divested herself of my arm, hobbling forward on her cane. She raised that same silver medallion, pressing it against the wall. It fell away, revealing a room beyond.


    A cell. A nice, padded cell, with amenities of all sorts, but a cell nonetheless.


    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be trapped in this place,¡± she said wearily. ¡°It¡¯s as far as I can take you, Spellsong.¡±


    I stared out past the cell, listening to the heartbeats as I felt the weight of my mission mantle my shoulders again. I could hear him now. Cylrit was so close. Just a ways deeper into the dungeons.


    ¡°Thank you, Rinia,¡± I said quietly, walking toward the bars of her cell. I clenched and unclenched my hands. ¡°I won¡¯t forget this debt.¡±


    ¡°Repay it by getting your ass out of here,¡± she muttered, sinking into the bed, looking like a withered old crone once again. ¡°This world needs more people like you. Might make it less hellish.¡±


    I chuckled at that, my mood feeling lighter than it had in a long time. Almost¡­ hopeful. ¡°I met a djinn, once,¡± I said leisurely, strangely wanting to keep on talking. ¡°J¡¯ntarion, his name was. The Last of the Watchers. He said that the path to peace was through understanding. Once upon a time, I was on my way there.¡±


    Images of that long-gone meeting trickled through my thoughts like a warm balm. Back then, my mettle hadn¡¯t yet been truly tested. I wondered if that old djinn had understood what I¡¯d face as he lay dying in Aurora¡¯s arms. Was I still on that path?


    For all that the elven seer knew, it appeared this was not among them. ¡°A djinn?¡± she said, her eyes widening behind scraggly hair. ¡°Impossible. They¡¯re all gone.¡±


    ¡°They are now,¡± I said sorrowfully.


    Rinia¡¯s face darkened in consideration for a long moment. Then she did something I hadn¡¯t expected.


    She flipped the djinni medallion in her hand, the silver reflecting the light as it danced through the air. I caught it, surprised by the action. The surface was etched with brilliant runes that glimmered with a light shade of purple, each curve and surface waltzing with the hidden power of aether.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I made a true gamble,¡± Rinia said with clear amusement, smiling genuinely at me. ¡°But I think you¡¯re worth the risk, Toren Daen. Try not to trip on your way out.¡±

 Chapter 285: A Lantern in the Deep

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    The djinni medallion felt heavy in my dimension ring, strangely enough. As I blew through the dungeons like a living shadow, I contemplated the last gift Rinia Darcassan had given to me.


    I knew what it was, after all. It was a key to the faraway djinni sanctuary somewhere in the depths of Darv. If I imbued mana into it like those I knew did from The Beginning After the End, I¡¯d see myself teleported there.


    But I didn¡¯t have the time for questions now. The stones above my head dripped with condensation, each drop of water that struck the black stone ground echoing like a thunderclap. The heartbeats of a dozen prisoners along the upper levels reached my ears in various tempos of despair.


    Some part of me wondered how those faceless beings behind bars of iron had landed in their current positions. Had they wronged King Arthur? Were they destitute nobles who had taken the wrong steps in their life, becoming penniless? Or perhaps they were Alacryans like myself, condemned as spies to a life where they would never see the light.


    Seris had told me that Arthur had rather methodically cut off her spy network within the castle. I wondered if I would recognize anyone in these cells.


    I ignored them. The target of my mission wasn¡¯t far away, and now more than ever I needed to keep my entire focus directly on the rescue. Sonar Pulse, my sense for intent and heartfire, the instincts engrained into me from millennia of condensed insight from my phoenix Will kept me sharp as a razor¡¯s edge.


    The deeper I trekked into the dungeons, the worse the smell became. The upper levels¡ªwhere I¡¯d left Rinia Darcassan behind¡ªwere sanitary and clean. Most of the cells were bright and clear of mold and taint. But the further down I went, the more it began to degrade. A mishmash of unwashed bodies, urine, and fecal matter plagued the air like rot. No longer were the prisoners in any form of health. Just from their heartfires alone, I could sense the tortures and depravities they¡¯d been subjected to.


    That slow, gradual change reminded me of the transition between the districts in Fiachra.


    Every bit of Alacrya was a prison, of course. But North Fiachra at least dusted and shined their bars, while the further south and east you went, the true rot and rust began to show.


    A few guards patrolled the corridors, but they were easier to avoid and drift past. Despite bearing the mantle of dawn, I blended in perfectly with the shadows as I moved like the darkness itself. With Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact and my own control of sound and mana, I was practically a Wraith.


    I paused at the very end of one corridor, sensing a heartbeat at the furthest reaches. Another guard. And from what I could sense of their mana, he was a silver core, too.


    Sonar Pulse told me that he was standing right before a door that led down to the very deepest cells. And I wouldn¡¯t be able to pull the same trick with the guard that let me sneak into the castle in the first place.


    Right, wasn¡¯t there a man that was supposed to guard the dungeons? What was his name again? I asked myself, trying to recall the man who was¡­ The torturer¡¯s assistant, wasn¡¯t he? What was he called?


    I couldn¡¯t remember, but I didn¡¯t recall Arthur mentioning in that otherworld novel that he was this powerful. It made sense, though, that someone of the low silver core at least would be guarding the single entrance to the deepest pits of the dungeons.


    It only took a moment for me to decide on my next course of action.


    I blurred forward, rushing toward the mage before he even had time to react. He was big and muscled, and his face looked like it had been crafted from an ill-fitted mold filled with poorly-made cement. I didn¡¯t pay the slow rising of his brows any mind, however. Just enveloped us both in a sound barrier, before smoothly sweeping behind his guard and wrapping my arm around his throat.


    He struggled for a few seconds, his big, beefy arms slamming against mine as he thrashed in vain to make a sound. His egg of a head slowly went red as I cut off the bloodflow, and no mana-enhanced strength would see him escape.


    Wait, I thought, remembrance striking me like lightning as I slowly lowered the unconscious mage to the ground, his name is Duv, isn¡¯t it?!


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said, the sound of my voice still masked by my spell. ¡°That¡¯s a really stupid name.¡±


    I propped the unconscious torturer¡¯s assistant against a nearby wall. I quickly searched his pockets, withdrawing a mana-laden key.


    I turned to the door, which was a thick slab of steel with a dozen locks¡ªboth mana-made and mechanical. The mana key on Duv¡¯s body unlocked the magic ones, thankfully, and a mix of sonar to get the layout of the pins and my own use of telekinesis saw the others unlocked.


    The door swung open silently without even a groan. A yawning, dark abyss waited inside.


    I strode in, noting the other familiar heartbeat on the far end of the cells, but they weren¡¯t my target right now.


    Cylrit wasn¡¯t hard to find. His pulse was weak, but it was steady. When I arrived like a ghost in front of his cell bars, I was able to get a look at the Retainer I called a friend.


    He was lying on a simple bed and clothed in clean linens. His cell was noticeably the cleanest I¡¯d yet witnessed, with a few items of leisure littered about. A couple of books. A pen for writing. But I suspected the only reason he¡¯d been allowed such ¡°niceties¡± from within a cell was because of the pulsing artifact around his chest.


    Some sort of intricate mana core suppression device dug deeply into his sternum. I had been able to sense over the bond between our souls that he was weak and injured, and though his entire body seemed clear of wounds, I could tell this single device¨C-glittering gold with its mana flow¡ªwas the source of his pain.


    He doesn¡¯t deserve this, I thought, feeling a suppressed anger rise from my core as I clenched my fists. He went to Arthur in good faith for parlay, and this is what he gets?


    Chul had done this, I knew. The bastard child had ruined their meeting. I didn¡¯t know how complicit Arthur was in this, but if I saw him, he would answer for this crime in some way.


    As I stared through the bars, the captive Retainer seemed to wake from his restive sleep. He sat up without even a wince like a bent bar of metal straightening out. He turned dull, red eyes towards the edges of his cell.


    When they saw me, something in them softened. Though I didn¡¯t look anything like my usual appearance, he no doubt recognized the effects of Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact.


    He didn¡¯t say anything. Just nodded solemnly.


    I didn¡¯t need any more permission. I grasped the cold, manaforged steel bars, calling on my core. Power thrummed along my veins, before I wrenched them to the side. They bent and broke under my power, unable to resist. In no time at all, a space wide enough for me to fit through opened up.


    I stepped through, listening to the Retainer¡¯s heartbeat. ¡°Hey, Cylrit,¡± I whispered, drifting over to his bedside. ¡°I¡¯ve come to get you out of here.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes as I inspected the contraption embedded into his flesh, already feeling the fugue state of surgery washing through my veins. From what I could tell on a cursory glance, if I attempted to remove it, the clamps embedded in Cylrit¡¯s chest would cinch shut around his core, breaking it.


    Easy enough to bypass, I thought, calling my heartfire to my fingers as I prepared to get rid of this first. It would be risky to enact the second part of our plan if Cylrit couldn¡¯t defend himself. I just need to heal him and his core while restraining the clamps. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come,¡± Cylrit said, his normally well-groomed hair clinging to his face. ¡°You cannot afford to face Taci Thyestes here. If you die¨C¡±


    ¡°Seris can¡¯t afford to lose you, either,¡± I snapped, feeling the tension rise as I became more and more aware of my time limit. Every single drip of water and creak of stone felt like the footsteps of an enemy or the clank of a spear. ¡°You matter, Cylrit. Don¡¯t fucking deny that, you uptight asshole.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s face screwed up in a familiar expression of disdain as he stared at me. ¡°You¡¯re so quick to cast accusations, risking danger to Seris and yourse¨C¡±


    The man¡¯s words cut off with a grunt of pain as I quickly tore the device from his chest at record speeds. The clamps tried to snap shut over his core, but only managed deep scrapes over the surface instead. They must have been excruciating.


    I absorbed the strange device into my dimension ring, feeling slightly amused by the disgruntled expression on Cylrit¡¯s face. I didn¡¯t grace his stupidity with any response as he heaved for breath, red staining his tunic as his core inched towards dissolving.


    As I laid my hand over his chest, I found it even more amusing that this was the first time I¡¯d seen him in anything but that reflective black armor of his. Heartfire streamed from my hands like morning light as it seeped over his wounds, caressing his bloodied chest and easing over the troughs in his core.


    That was far, far easier to do now. The mana core was fundamentally different from any other organ in the body. But it was an anchor to the physical plane in a way that was hard to describe. It made the Vessel more real somehow. More present.


    Cylrit glared at me as I healed over the damage to his core, which might have otherwise been crippling. ¡°There is no way for us both to escape,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°I am still weak, and I cannot mask myself like you, Spellsong. I am trapped here. And if you do not leave soon, then that asura will find you.¡±


    I exhaled a breath, then let a devious smirk cross my face. I imagined I looked somewhat like Naereni at that exact moment. ¡°Did you really think I barged in here without a plan?¡± I said, flourishing my hand. Two items appeared there. ¡°Would you really disrespect ¡®Master Seris¡¯ by assuming she hadn¡¯t accounted for that?¡±


    Two pendants hung from my hands by loose leather cords. Each had a weave of helix vines that kept a small marble of glimmering power contained within. The two phoenix wyrm pendants that Roa had crafted for me.


    These pendants were what made our rescue plan feasible at all. After a bit of mana buildup, the users would be teleported far away within a cocoon of silver-pink scales. Neither Cylrit nor I needed to leave normally.


    Unfortunately, Seris had lost her tempus warp¡ªand Inversion¡ªin the Breaking of Burim, or else this might have been even simpler. But still, I wouldn¡¯t dismiss good fortune.


    Cylrit¡¯s face wrinkled in confusion as he stared at the items in my hands, uncomprehending. But the words about Seris gave him the drive he needed.


    He took one of the pendants from my hands, then with quiet direction, slowly put it on. The pendant dangled over the bloody stain on his simple clothes from where I¡¯d torn away the mana core suppression device.


    ¡°Imbue it with a little bit of mana,¡± I said quickly, feeling my anticipation and worry crescendo. ¡°You¡¯ll be teleported away somewhere safe. Wait for me, and I¡¯ll find you wherever it takes you.¡±


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    Cylrit¡¯s blood-red eyes widened at the edges, no doubt seeing the genius of Seris¡¯ plan. ¡°Fascinating,¡± he whispered. ¡°But what of you, Spellsong?¡±


    That other heartbeat in these dungeon cells felt more clear for a moment. ¡°Mawar is here in these cells, too,¡± I replied, trying to suppress a vindictive snarl. ¡°King Arthur had you captured on pretenses of releasing her. I think I¡¯ll take her with me when I teleport away, too. It''s only fair.¡±


    The Retainer was quiet for a moment, and for once, I thought I saw a bit of a smile rise on his face. ¡°Nothing¡¯s fair in war, but I think I see what you mean.¡±


    He started to imbue a little mana into the pendant. I stepped back, sweat slicking my palms as I watched the shroud of liquid mana slowly forming around him. A celestial cocoon of silver-pink scales slowly encased him where he sat on the bed.


    I counted down the seconds inside my head as I waited for this process to complete. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen.


    I restrained the urge to tap my foot as I waited for the shoe to drop. Eight. Seven. Six.


    Cylrit was gradually enveloped in that reflective shell, blocking him from sight. And after a sudden moment, I couldn¡¯t sense his heartbeat anymore.


    He was gone.


    I exhaled a deep, deep sigh of relief as the aether whisked the Retainer away. Chances were he was dropped somewhere randomly in the depths of the Beast Glades far below. He might have to deal with S-class manabeasts in his weakened state, but I had no doubt he¡¯d find that easier than rotting in this cell.


    Then I heard it. A single, distant click of boot heels on stone. That click-click-click continued as someone strode through the dungeons. The cadence of their steps was smooth and fluid, impossibly graceful.


    My first instinct was anxiety and fear. If someone interrupted my own flight from this castle too soon, then I might have to sneak my way out the normal way. Furthermore, the being who walked closer and closer toward me eclipsed Cylrit¡¯s power by a large margin. And they weren¡¯t a Lance.


    Immediately, I knew who strode through these cells towards me. I¡¯d drawn on that heartbeat once before, after all.


    I should¡¯ve immediately activated the pendant in my hand. I should¡¯ve allowed those scales of silver to rise around me and teleport me away. Even if I knew there wasn¡¯t time to let them form, it was still a wise decision.


    But the amorphous, murky intent that trailed in the wake of those steps made me hesitate. Because it was so, so familiar. I didn¡¯t know if she was even aware how much she was projecting, but the taste and texture of every rise and fall of her emotions¡­


    So I waited. Even though it was foolish, idiotic, and stupid, I waited. Because I needed to see.


    When Sylvie Indrath finally reached the edges of the cell, I felt another wave of surprise. I¡¯d been expecting a small girl appearing barely older than seven or eight. Instead, a graceful young woman clothed in a dress of rippling shadow entered my view.


    Long, wheat blonde hair cascaded down to her back. Her horns were so black that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to make them out in the darkness, but held in her outstretched hand was a creaking lantern bathing her in warm, orange light.


    Her choppy bangs masked her eyes from my sight as her intent radiated quiet despair.


    She wasn¡¯t here to fight. The hunch in her shoulders made me wonder if she already felt like she¡¯d lost.


    The young dragon raised that lantern higher, casting rays of warm light into the darkness of the cell. That light washed over me like sunlight reflecting off a pale moon.


    Sylvie barely seemed to acknowledge the absence of Cylrit in the cell.


    ¡°You left Duv alive,¡± she finally said, her eyes still shadowed. ¡°Thank you for that.¡±


    I worked my jaw, uncertain at the depths of the young dragon¡¯s intent. In truth, I hadn¡¯t even expected her to be here. Seris¡¯ spy network said that Arthur was in Xyrus convening with Dicathen''s high command, and I¡¯d assumed his bond would be with him. ¡°I don¡¯t kill unless I need to,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Are you here to stop me, Lady Indrath?¡±


    Sylvie raised her head, allowing me to see her eyes for the first time. They were supposed to be golden, but it felt like all the polish and shine in the edges of her pupils had been stripped away. The amber color of her pupils was closer to a dull bronze rather than radiant metal. It made me shudder with sorrow.


    What happened to her? I wondered, worry suffusing me alongside the shock. Why does she look so much like¡­


    I remembered that time in the aftermath of the Breaking of Burim, when I¡¯d awoken in a tub of blood within Seris¡¯ rooms. I¡¯d stared into the mirror there and seen those exact eyes.


    ¡°That artifact does a good job of hiding your mana and appearance, Spellsong,¡± she whispered quietly, ¡°but the aether in your heart has only ever grown. I knew you were here the moment you stepped on our grounds. But Cylrit never deserved to be held here.¡±


    Even though I was the one in the cell and Sylvie was blocking my way out, part of me recognized that the dragon felt far, far more trapped than I did at that moment. I exhaled, uncertain of what I should say next. ¡°What do you need from me, Lady Indrath?¡±


    The young dragon stared past me, her dull expression roaming about for someone. Something. ¡°Your bond. Aurora Asclepius,¡± she pushed out. ¡°I need to talk with her. I need her advice. Please.¡±


    I had been subconsciously expecting a lot of things. How did I know about the Legacy? How did I know so much about Arthur¡¯s past life? What were Seris¡¯ plans?


    I felt pity well up deep in my soul at the heartfelt desire in the young dragon¡¯s question. Not from the question itself alone, but because I couldn¡¯t give her an answer. Aurora was asleep, trying to regain sense of her soul.


    I felt the instinctive urge to take the uncertain asura¡¯s shoulders, to provide her some base of strength. But I could tell that was the last thing she needed right now.


    ¡°She can¡¯t answer you right now,¡± I said quietly. ¡°She¡¯s hurt. After what happened in Burim¡­¡±


    ¡°Where her son attacked you?¡± Sylvie finished for me, the creaking of the lantern on its hinges making me wince as much as her words.


    ¡°What do you want to ask her, Lady Indrath?¡± I tried, taking a single step forward. ¡°I¡¯m not her, but I¡¯ll always try to help if I can.¡±


    It had been painful enough to see that hopelessness in my eyes in the immediate aftermath of the Breaking of Burim. Seeing this grim reflection of myself asking for some measure of a lifeline made it even more painful.


    Sylvie chewed her lip for a time, looking at me consideringly. She opened her mouth and closed it several times, her intent fluctuating as she tried to find her words.


    ¡°How did he do it?¡± she finally asked. ¡°How did Mordain Asclepius do it?¡±


    My brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Find a third option,¡± she said, the words seeming to crawl from her throat. ¡°Find the courage for something other than futile rebellion or bending the knee.¡±


    I blinked in surprise at the young dragon¡¯s words, but the moment she started talking, words began to spill from her like grain from a torn sack. ¡°Arthur, he¡­ He thinks that¡¯s the only thing we can do. He¡¯s unable to see that it will never work. He thinks he just needs to endure. Like Marlorn. We need to endure. But my father¡­ He made the wrong choice, too. When he learned of what my grandfather did, he became just as bad.¡±


    She looked up at me, her eyes shining with need. I thought I could feel that question over her very soul. ¡°What did the Lost Prince do? How did he take the steps to defy my grandfather?¡±


    I felt a shiver travel through my body as I slowly began to understand what had led to such emptiness in her emotions.


    She¡¯d learned the truth of the djinn. Maybe even of this entire war. And despite it all, she was forced into the fruitless position of fighting by her bond¡¯s side as his mind no doubt deteriorated under the weight of his crown.


    She presses her emotions outward fervently, I realized as the ambient mana shifted under her emotions, so that Arthur will never feel this despair of hers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much you understand about phoenixes, Lady Indrath,¡± I said after a moment, the light from her lantern dying down slightly, ¡°but we aren¡¯t always the most logical of beings.¡±


    I thought of all the swirls of passion and emotions and life I¡¯d experienced in my short stay in the Hearth. Hell, the logical part of my mind told me that I should still be running right now. Every second that passed made my escape more and more risky.


    But as I tried to find the right words to say to the waiting dragon, I realized something important. My mind traced along the paths of that otherworld novel, stalling on one point.


    I¡¯d been so desperate for hope, asking for it from others and trying to find a point, that I hadn¡¯t dared to look inward. I had almost forgotten the most important light I had.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Mordain ever acted on logic. I think what he did was probably something impulsive and more than a little stupid when he fled from Epheotus. Sometimes, you can find hope in logic. But sometimes you can¡¯t.¡±


    And despite all of the Lost Prince¡¯s supposed logic and reason for maintaining neutrality, it wasn¡¯t logical. It was all sourced in emotion. Ration and reason should dictate that the phoenixes never fled Epheotus in the first place. The wisest thing to do was to avoid conflict at all and instead settle down in the nest of the status quo enforced by Kezess.


    And it wasn¡¯t logic that kept them huddled in the Hearth. It was fear.


    Sylvie was silent in the wake of my words, appearing like a statue as she held out the dying lantern. The flame within was dwindling at a rapid pace, the dungeon once again being overcome by shadow.


    I clenched my fists. Unclenched them.


    ¡°You have the power in you to craft hope,¡± I whispered. Visions of another timeline fueled my words, one where this young dragon willingly sacrificed herself to see her bond soar above the gods themselves. ¡°It¡¯s there. It has always been there, waiting under the surface for you to see it. Maybe it¡¯s not obvious right now, but there is a path forward. I promise you that.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need the violin in my hands to project the truth of my intent. The earnesty and belief washed through the air like a song, each beat a morning dewdrop that misted over the young dragon¡¯s frame. Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth opening a little as it all swirled about her.


    There was a future where this young dragon became everything that her clan was not. Where she defied Kezess alongside her bond. And maybe that future wasn¡¯t here now. With all that had happened, I didn¡¯t know if that exact future would ever happen.


    But that didn¡¯t mean a good ending wasn¡¯t possible. It just meant those who were left had to make it.


    ¡°Who are you?" Sylvie whispered, something close to awe washing through her as she bathed in the music of my intent. She raised an arm, appearing to brush her hand through the air. I imagined staves and notes of music dancing along her fingers like caring fireflies.


    I chuckled lightly, feeling much of the tension I¡¯d carried this past week evaporate from my shoulders. ¡°Just an observer,¡± I said honestly, shrugging my shoulders. ¡°Someone who cares.¡±


    Silence reigned between us for a time as the young dragon processed my words. I raised my hand to my neck, brushing it against the pendant there. I needed to leave soon. Very soon. But I wasn¡¯t going to have Mawar escape with me now that Sylvie was here, but¡­


    ¡°When Arthur and Cylrit met, they were discussing an exchange for Mawar¡¯s release,¡± I said into the stillness, my mana prepared to activate the pendant to whisk me away. ¡°I would be willing to heal both Virion and¡­¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s eyes flickered warmly, some life returning to them as she stared at me. A slight smile stretched across her features as she heard the first parts of my proposal.


    I furrowed my brow, hesitating for a few seconds as I rolled over the possibility in my mind. There was something else I could heal, too.


    What I called ¡®canon¡¯ was already thoroughly blown to the wind. What was one more good deed? I could grind the High Sovereign¡¯s plans to dust even more. Agrona thrived on options and avenues. Closing one could only be a good thing.


    ¡°There is a spell in your core,¡± I said hesitantly. ¡°Your father implanted it there when you were only an egg. It might be difficult, but there¡¯s a chance I can remove it.¡±


    I¡¯d been getting a better hold on healing mana cores, as well as working around the intricacies of the Mind in contrast with the Soul. It wasn¡¯t a one hundred percent chance, but I might be able to wash away that spell.


    Sylvie¡¯s eyes widened, and she took a defensive step back from me. I felt her intent dip back towards something serious and on guard at my words. Her other fist clenched, dark soulfire sputtering over her hands. ¡°How do you know that?¡± she demanded, her teeth slowly rising into a snarl.


    In turn, my eyes widened as well. ¡°You know about it?¡± I echoed, surprised. I knew I shouldn¡¯t trust that otherworld knowledge of mine so often anymore, but I still doubted Arthur would ever tell his bond about the spell that her father used to control her until there was no other choice.


    Sylvie tensed like a snake ready to bite, fear rising in her emotions that slowly overrode everything else. ¡°Rinia destroyed it, after my father¡­ used me for that megalomaniacal speech of his. But nobody else should know about that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯d believe me even if I did tell you the source of my knowledge,¡± I sighed, taking in the dragon¡¯s words. I paced lightly on the cell floor, my mind awhirl as my hand clenched around the pendant. If Rinia had truly erased the spell that Agrona used to puppeteer his daughter, that meant that this war truly wouldn¡¯t end in any way I could predict. ¡°The future has changed so much,¡± I said, only barely aware of what I was saying.


    ¡°The future?¡± Sylvie asked, blinking multiple times in confusion.


    Then I froze, another part of the young dragon¡¯s words reaching me. Megalomaniacal? She¡¯d said that Agrona¡¯s speech was megalomaniacal. In that otherworld novel, Agrona had put on a personable and affable air with Arthur, speaking with him as if they were old friends in an attempt to establish rapport. That was all with the intent to tempt him away to join his side.


    ¡°Sylvie,¡± I said with sudden urgency, Rinia¡¯s warning about Agrona focusing on me ringing in my head like alarm bells. This felt important. ¡°What did Agrona say to Arthur?¡±


    The young dragon opened her mouth. I didn¡¯t know if she was going to be honest with me, or ask more questions.


    But then some deep, inset instinct in the depths of my phoenix Will blared in my senses. Or perhaps it was the sudden thunderous heartbeat, or the scything power I felt carving through Sonar Pulse.


    An attack was coming, and it wasn¡¯t aimed at me.


    Fire and telekinetic force erupted from the soles of my shoes, the ambient mana pulling me forward in turn. Sylvie stumbled backward in surprise as I surged toward her like a bullet.


    Just in time.


    A flash of red slammed into my stomach, a winged spearhead piercing my innards and erupting out the other side. My blood sprayed across the young dragon behind me as the asuran weapon dove deep into my bowels, carving its way with abandon and compressing my mana channels and veins. The agony made me wheeze, a sick groan burbling with the blood in my mouth as I fell to a knee.


    Sylvie stumbled backward with a horrified gasp, a look of shock washing over her face as my steaming blood coated her dark dress scales. The lantern light finally flickered out, casting us in utter darkness.


    But I knew. I knew who stood on the other end of that cell hallway. My eyes pierced the gloom even as my sense for my mana slowly fizzled away under the effects of the spear, leaving me weak and helpless as blood pooled around me.


    Taci Thyestes¡¯ mana signature raged and boiled around him like a volcano about to blow. His crimson martial robes flared, and his bald head was cast in a rictus scowl. His black martial tattoos couldn¡¯t hide the veins that pulsed across his head in time with his furious heartbeat.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± he growled, the entire castle trembling from his anger, ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you.¡±

 Chapter 286: A Weapons Purpose

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    My blood flowed freely from my stomach, but I couldn¡¯t see it. I could feel the red dripping down to the floor, hear my lifeforce sizzling as it steamed on the impossibly red spear.


    But even worse¡­ Even worse, my senses for my core began to mist away. Any and all control over the ambient mana left me as the cloaking artifact that hid my appearance was disrupted.


    My limbs lost their strength as I gripped the jutting spearshaft. I could feel in real time as the cold clutch of death inched its way along my mana veins and channels, sealing them off. Sonar Pulse fractured. My hearing dimmed. My vision darkened.


    Through the painful haze, I was barely aware that Sylvie was already moving. The dragon put herself in front of me with quick and shocked steps, her fists clenched in anger. The red stain of my blood across her chest drank in the light.


    ¡°Taci, what is the meaning of thi¨C¡±


    ¡°Step aside, Lady Indrath,¡± the pantheon warrior hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. His aura redoubled, washing over the cavern and making my innards squeeze. I coughed, blood dribbling from between my teeth. ¡°The intruder will die.¡±


    Arthur¡¯s bond didn¡¯t flinch at Taci¡¯s threat. Instead, soulfire sputtered across her fingers as she blocked the pantheon from my sight. Those dark flames rippled with a purple incandescence that haunted the shadows themselves.


    ¡°You tried to assault me,¡± Sylvie hissed. ¡°The heir to Clan Indrath! If this ¡®intruder¡¯ hadn¡¯t placed himself between us, then I would be¨C¡±


    ¡°Incapacitated,¡± Taci sneered. ¡°For as long as it took to finish my purpose. Because you are a weak, short-minded dragon who doesn¡¯t understand what it means to be a deity.¡±


    I blinked past the pain, gritting my teeth as I slowly wrenched the spear from my stomach. At the same time, I called on my heart.


    I knew what this spear did. Whenever a target was cut by it, the spear severed the target¡¯s connection to their mana core for a time. It wasn¡¯t unlike¡­ the mana shackles that had held me so long ago.


    My heartbeat quickened. My lifeforce flowed. And the head of that spear slowly, painfully sliced back through my ruptured innards, blood dribbling out in steady waves as I blinked past my weakness. Little tendrils of fire traced their way along every cell of my Vessel as my other hand desperately fumbled with the phoenix wyrm pendant.


    But I couldn¡¯t activate it. Not without mana.


    ¡°Get out,¡± Sylvie snarled, her visage rippling as dark scales slowly shifted over her skin. ¡°By the power vested in me by Epheotus, you will leave, Taci Thyestes.¡±


    More and more dark, Vritra-tinged mana swirled around Sylvie¡¯s hands, which had shifted to something approaching claws. That energy licked at the edges of the shadows themselves.


    Taci didn¡¯t seem to notice me in that short moment. He was too focused on the dragon blocking his way in the dungeons to realize that I had almost wrenched that wretched spear from my gut. His aura had frozen in the air, but that was somehow more intimidating than the overwhelming pressure from before.


    He doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m a threat, I realized. And why should he? With his weapon embedded in my stomach, I wasn¡¯t able to use mana. Its suppressing effect was constantly attacking my veins and channels, and though my heartfire healing fought to keep me alive, this wound would¡¯ve been mortal for any other mage.


    God, the pain was hard to think through. My weak grip slipped and fumbled along the blood-slick shaft as I coughed, agony racing along my nerves. Just needed to¡­ activate the pendant, and¨C


    ¡°I have been weak,¡± Taci finally said, his voice devoid of all emotion as it bled away. ¡°I bent before you, Lady Indrath, because surely this was just a phase of yours. This ignorant desire to be some sort of mothering caretaker for these¡­ lesser beings.¡±


    The asura took a single step forward, that footstep echoing louder than all the heartbeats I could hear. ¡°But you seek to keep me from my purpose. You are a traitor to Epheotus. Made soft. You are a wolf who was made a sheep.¡±


    My eyes widened as I struggled to stay on one knee, feeling Sylvie¡¯s aura rise in turn. Her choppy hair flared with light as her mana swirled around her like a mane. The stones of the floor rumbled as the dragon began to bend the world around her to her whims. She was going to fight this child. She was going to battle him here and now, but she wouldn¡¯t stand a chance.


    ¡°Your purpose?¡± Sylvie scoffed, shifting lightly into a battle stance. ¡°You have no purpose! It is wrong. My grandfather is wrong. Maybe if you detached yourself from your blind¨C¡±


    The dragon never saw the strike coming, and neither did I.


    At one moment, Taci was standing at the near end of the hallway, seconds away from a temper tantrum. The next, he was suddenly right in front of Arthur¡¯s bond, his knuckles burning the air as they surged towards Sylvie¡¯s skull.


    The impact was like a thunderclap, and it made the castle stones shake.


    The young dragon crashed sideways through one of the cells, a sickening crack echoing outward like a gong. Her lifeforce flickered from that sudden blow, her soulfire spell detonating and annihilating half the cells in the hallway.


    ¡°I am going to drag you in front of Lord Windsom,¡± Taci yelled, his eyes wide and dangerous. They were nearly mad. ¡°For trying to stop my purpose, the very thing I have been training for for years! I am a weapon. A deity. Not some lesser-loving fool like you,¡± the pantheon growled, his crazed eyes glaring holes into the rubble where Sylvie¡¯s body had disappeared. ¡°While you were simpering and doting on those worth less than you, I was training in the aether orb, becoming the pinnacle of my race!¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s blood dripped from Taci¡¯s knuckles in a slow, steady stream as he declared his anger to the crushed stones. Each drop felt like slow motion as I watched it in the darkness, slow and dawning realization reaching me.


    I wouldn¡¯t be able to escape this place anymore. Not with Seris¡¯ plan to use the phoenix wyrm pendants. That took time. It would take precious seconds for the pale crystal to enshroud my body and whisk me away. Precious seconds that this rampaging child would never allow me to have.


    I needed to fight. If I wanted even fifteen seconds of an interim period, I would need to make that fifteen seconds. An asura would make me fight, in a place filled with innocents. Again.


    A guttural, furious roar erupted from my very soul as Resonant Flow engaged, one primal pulse of my heart ripping away the restrictions of the spear. My lifeforce expanded and seared along my mana channels and veins as I wrenched the weapon free.


    Power returned to my limbs like the flip of the world¡¯s greatest light switch. One moment, I was in the dark, grasping at the stone as I bled out like a snuffed candle wick. The next, I was bathed in the light of the sun.


    I lurched upward, my fist outlined in explosive white fire. Soulplume burned hot in my veins, kindling the rising desire to break this asura¡¯s bones and grind them to dust beneath my feet.


    Close as I was, Taci barely had time to react. But react he did. His body shifted with precision and power that reminded me of Aurora¡¯s pristine form. My furious eyes locked with his. Olive-green battled a sea of sunlit orange. His intent was hot, but not as hot as mine.


    My punch soared past his ear, the white fires illuminating the darkness under the burning, single beat of Resonant Flow. His lips curled up into a sneer as my attack missed his head, but I had never been truly aiming there in the first place.


    The red spear flashed as it drove toward Taci¡¯s ribs. Under my telekinetic control, it was poised to sink under his arm and drive straight into his heart.


    Yet somehow, the asura flickered just the tiniest bit to the side, barely a single foot. His intent vanished in that split instant, leaving me off-guard and off-balance. The red spear missed him entirely, blurring through the darkness.


    Mirage Walk, I realized with rising horror, my thoughts feverish in my head as the weight of a young god¡¯s aura made the world around me tremble. He¡¯s able to use it with such precision!


    ¡°You should¡¯ve stayed down, lessuran,¡± Taci¡¯s voice misted past my ears. ¡°I would have granted you a quick death. More than your kind deserves.¡±


    I felt Taci¡¯s knife-like hand pierce through my ribs, his fingers reaching for my core. I gritted my teeth, then engaged my regalia.


    I lurched away from the mad pantheon, surging down the hallway and back towards the iron door exit. His hand ripped its way free from my back in a slew of steaming blood. My heartbeat sang in my veins as my wounds struggled to heal.


    I barely pulled to the side as Taci¡¯s red spear blurred towards me. But limited as I was in this cage of stone, I was the prey. One of the fanlike wings of the weapon clipped my side, sending me tumbling to the ground as my senses for mana cut out again. Soulplume flickered, my power wavering.


    I rolled along the ground, frantically calling on my lifeforce to wash away the constricting effect of the spear. My power hesitated, wavered, then solidified.


    I rolled up in a crouch, my telekinetic shroud reappearing in record time. I sensed Taci¡¯s intent mist away just like it had a moment ago.


    And just like before, he blurred forward, his spear poised to drive through my core.


    In one fluid motion, I rose upward, a shrouded saber poised like the lash of a whip. The edge of my weapon met his spearhead as it dove downward like a swan¡¯s graceful neck. Sparks danced in the darkness like vengeful fireflies as I diverted his thrust into the stones by my feet. His weapon sank deep, but it retracted as quickly as a viper¡¯s bite.


    This time, Taci didn¡¯t use the bladed edge of his spear to strike. He pivoted, swinging the blunt tip of the shaft like a quarterstaff to relieve me of my skull. His intent was deadly focused as the blur of red neared my head. I could almost imagine what was going on inside the vindictive asura¡¯s mind as I tasted his emotions.


    He wanted that weapon to drive through. He wanted it to be efficient and true. Every strike was supposed to be perfect.


    I yelled from the depths of my soul, erupting with an unfocused nova of mindfire force. As my magic danced with vibrating sound waves, the lowest levels of the castle began to tremble and shake as the structure caved in on itself. Cells crumpled inward, support pillars shattered, and the entire floor looked as if someone had turned on the sun belowground. Taci¡¯s attempted bludgeon clipped my ear, before the impact struck him.


    The young asura snarled as he was hurled back the way he¡¯d come, trailing a thin line of smoke with his robes singed. He clenched his teeth, reorienting with expert precision as his eyes locked on me. In a flash of red, he swung his spear in as wide an arc as the cramped dungeons would allow.


    I could barely sense the attack that lanced toward me through the dust and debris. A crescent of invisible power pierced the range of Sonar Pulse, nearly indetectable to my mana sense. In response, I swung my shrouded saber, conjuring an arc of white plasma that rushed forward like the tide.


    The two attacks charged toward each other in the middle of the room like galloping stallions. Invisible force met fire and sound, before destroying each other utterly.


    I was reminded of the last time I¡¯d wielded my plasma arts against a foe. In my battle against Arthur so long ago, his frostfire had reacted violently upon contact with my spells. But when Taci¡¯s force-type mana art kissed the deadly hum of my attack, there was no cacophonous explosion. No eruption of power bathed the entire room in light.


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    Instead, the two simply canceled each other out. There was a crackle and a pop, and the two absurdly mana-dense streaks just¡­ ceased to be. Aside from a few lingering motes of white fire and buzzing discord that warped the air, it was as if nothing had happened at all.


    Taci landed on his feet a ways away, already in his combat stance again. His eyes narrowed contemptuously as they noted the lingering burns on his martial robe before they flicked back to me. There was a wariness there that told me he wouldn¡¯t be caught off guard.


    ¡°I have trained long and hard for this confrontation, lesser,¡± he growled, his speartip glinting in the lingering fires. ¡°Much have Aurora Asclepius¡¯ plasma and combat arts been praised by the elders of the Thyestes Clan. To see them wielded by one of mongrel blood is a disgrace to her legacy. I will savor putting you down.¡±


    I rose back to my full height, feeling my body heal over in patches of orange and purple. I rolled my shoulders, loosening them for this coming fight. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    There was something in the depths of Taci¡¯s emotions¡­ Some sort of fear. Not of me or this fight, no. But it clouded his mind like smog.


    I expected to feel fear, too. This asura was a child, yes, but he was an asura. His aura alone was one of the most powerful I¡¯d ever felt. It made the hairs on the back of my arms stand on end and my senses scream of danger. Even his very stance¡ªsolid, resolute, and trained over decades¡ªtold me everything I needed to know about this warrior.


    He was efficient. Deadly. A weapon of war. I¡¯d read about this creature in an otherworld novel. Perhaps this rendition of him was less experienced, trained, and capable, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    Indeed, I did feel fear. I knew that emotion was coming, and I¡¯d braced myself for it. This was an asura, the epitome of this world¡¯s power. But what I hadn¡¯t been expecting was the blistering hot rage that trailed in its wake.


    I listened to the heartbeats pulsing throughout the castle. People were waking up now. Our preliminary clash had made the stones shake and tremble in fear. Not far from Taci, Sylvie Indrath lay unconscious in the rubble. She¡¯d placed herself in a position of danger to protect me. An enemy. And now, the dragon was bleeding in a heap of stone for daring to do the right thing.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you your fight, Taci Thyestes,¡± I said, maintaining the barest veneer of respect. ¡°But we will do this somewhere else. Where there will be no casualties and loss of innocent life.¡±


    I heard the dragon¡¯s heartbeat flicker. I sensed her shift in the darkness.


    Taci¡¯s nostrils flared. ¡°You have no place to make demands of me, lesser,¡± he said, his tone feeling forced. His aura flared as he prepared for the openings of a duel. ¡°You can¡¯t escape this trap that you walked into. Your wings are clipped.¡°


    I inhaled. Then I exhaled. And then I inhaled again. Visions of Burim flashed through my mind. I remembered Barth as he fell, cradling a child who had never had the chance to know their life. I remembered how empty I¡¯d felt, blaming myself for every lost life.


    Because while I was busy questioning myself and my actions, fools like Taci Thyestes would always continue their rampage. Innocents always suffered under their yoke. It was just easier to see when fools burned them before your eyes.


    I felt rage. Rage that burned hotter than nearly anything I¡¯d felt before. I remembered that vindictive hate that had gripped me while tracking Wolfrum Redwater. That was a side of me I never knew I had. I had never known I could enjoy the suffering of an enemy before that.


    But even those emotions felt paltry right now.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you,¡± I whispered, mana flowing along my veins as my aether reacted to my will. The world flexed under my vow. Seris would have demanded I flee. But so long as fools like Taci stood in the face of a better world¡ªso long as they backhanded those seeking life¡ªthen none of her plans would ever see fruition. ¡°I¡¯m going to rip your heart from your chest and feast on it.¡±


    I fell a bit deeper into Soulplume, my soul starting to burn as the corona of my eyes banished the darkness. The orange-feathered runes along my arms glimmered and flared in the low light. I stared deep into Taci¡¯s heartfire, tracing the near-invisible lines of lifeforce as they pulsed in tune with his heartbeat.


    A pantheon¡¯s lifeforce was nearly transparent. Fascinating.


    ¡°Petty words for a man doomed to die,¡± Taci said defiantly, his tattoos melding with the shadows.


    The asura¡¯s intent misted away. I didn¡¯t have time to think on that information. Only act.


    I stepped to the side, barely parrying the slash of Taci¡¯s spear as he used Mirage Walk to close the distance. The impact of our weapons made my joints protest in their sockets as I redirected his spear high in a shower of sparks.


    And then the fight was on. Taci¡¯s spear was sharp, precise, and angry. It left me no openings as I desperately tried to keep its edge from drinking my blood. My arms blurred as I fought to keep up with the asura¡¯s speed. His martial form was second only to Aurora¡¯s in its deadly efficiency.


    It felt like I was trying to duel force itself. Every clash released shockwaves of force-type mana that carved furrows a dozen yards deep into the dungeons around me.


    They¡¯ll all die if we fight here, I thought, fury guiding me as I felt the imminent approach of another tragedy. When gods battle, lessers die.


    The asura thrust his spear towards my core. I twisted my wrist, sweeping my saber sideways like the flick of a whip as it streaked along the crimson edge. The edge of my shrouded blade streaked down toward Taci¡¯s fingers like a skater¡¯s blades along ice, but too late did I realize the truth of his attack as he shifted his back leg with a vindictive sneer.


    It was a feint.


    With the precision of a chef chopping ribbon-thin slices, the martial artist dropped low, then snapped his leg outward in a perfect sweep. It connected with a painful crunch, my telekinetic shroud shattering. My ankle bones creaked from the casual, textbook-perfect move as it robbed me of my balance.


    And as I fell in slow motion, my world rotating ninety degrees as I fell toward my back, I saw the flash of his spearpoint as it surged toward my head. The glint reflected deep in my eyes.


    Taci made a mistake. He thought I needed the ground for leverage.


    I pulled on the four corners of the room around me with my regalia, contorting my body with impossible speed. Taci might have expected me to try and play his game of combat.


    So when I pulled myself impossibly close inside his guard, hovering at a sideways angle with my arms extended and a roiling mass of white plasma condensed between my palms, I imagined he was at least a little surprised.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see if you char, Thyestes,¡± I hissed, my adrenaline singing in my veins as the impossible heat of my magic singing the edges of Taci¡¯s robe.


    Then I released my attack point blank, expecting to sear a hole straight through his chest.


    Instead, I somehow missed.


    The unerring beam of white plasma was nearly as wide as the room itself as it thrust forward like a ballista bolt, searing towards the very far wall. Yet I didn¡¯t feel the impact until long after I should have.


    Finally, my attack met resistance. The beam was split in two as Taci¡¯s red spearpoint carved through the flow like the prow of a ship through the sea. Half a dozen arcs of divided plasma melted their way through the dungeon walls as the ambient temperature ramped upward to an insane degree.


    He blurred backward with Mirage Walk to avoid a direct hit, before summoning his spear in front of himself, I realized half a heartbeat later as mana flowed from my core to strengthen the steady beam. How fast are his reflexes to do that?!


    I didn¡¯t relent in my spell. It was pushing him back slowly towards the far wall of the dungeons, and once his back hit¡­


    ¡°I heard much about the prowess of Lady Dawn¡¯s plasma arts from my clan,¡± the asura seethed, his voice somehow audible over the hum of power that made the castle shake. ¡°I expected to face a warrior of the highest renown. Not a lesser mage with a pathetic imitation of greatness.¡±


    Alarms rang all throughout the dungeons as the floor rumbled. If I weren¡¯t supporting myself in the air with telekinetic stilts, I would have stumbled.


    ¡°You care more about lessers than any god I¡¯ve ever heard,¡± I sneered back, amplifying my voice with sound magic as my arms strained.


    I prepared to activate Resonant Flow once more and increase the output of my spell for a single heartbeat. It didn¡¯t matter if Taci¡¯s spear was in front of my spell and parting it. If the power was too overwhelming, it would simply swallow him whole and continue past.


    He would no longer be Moses, parting the sea. Instead, I would make of him a Jonah, swallowed by the tide.


    But then two heartbeats¡ªtwo that would be within the range of that attack¡ªthumped against my ears.


    Sylvie and Mawar.


    I remembered the devastation of the aftermath, where the scar across Burim¡¯s roof denoted my failure. The last time I¡¯d battled a god, innocents died.


    That brief window of hesitation was all it took. A scythe of invisible force-type mana carved its way through my plasma as Taci blurred into one of the nearby cells with Mirage Walk. My attack slammed into the far wall, melting its way through at record pace.


    I twisted myself sideways, desperately attempting to avoid the slash of force-type mana. I was only partially successful. My right hand was nearly completely severed at the wrist as it traveled past. I grunted in pain, but I had no time to lose focus.


    Taci blurred back into range, angry and focused. He was entirely unharmed from the entire exchange, where I was left bleeding and wounded.


    I whirled in midair, building up a hurricane of force as I concentrated sound mana and heartfire around my leg. I snapped it out in a roundhouse kick, attempting to intercept Taci¡¯s forward momentum.


    The asura wasn¡¯t phased. He sneered, twirling his spear like the world¡¯s deadliest lever. As my foot approached the pantheon¡¯s side, his weapon reached it first and cut it off with contemptuous ease.


    I grunted in pain, still carried on by my momentum. Then a shrouded foot grew over the stump of my bleeding leg, flaring with lifeforce and sound magic.


    Utterly unprepared for me to grow a construct to replace my severed foot, my attack struck home right beneath Taci¡¯s ribs. I felt them crack as I ripped at his lifeforce, drawing it in and soothing my aches and pains. My sound spell traveled through his insides, rattling and disrupting all it could.


    Taci grunted in surprise and pain, before his arm wrapped down to capture my leg. ¡°You like to flit about like a bird,¡± he hissed, a single drop of blood leaking from his mouth as he held me fast. His spear glinted as he prepared to drive it into my chest. ¡°But you have nowhere to go. This dungeon is your tomb.¡±


    For a moment, as the spear neared my skull, I thought he might be right. Deep underground with limited mobility and facing a master martial artist, I was little more than a lamb before a sheep.


    But I wouldn¡¯t surrender. I wouldn¡¯t go down today.


    Telekinesis pulsed between my hands in an undeniable concentration of force. My palms glimmered with shimmering, crystalline white as they crashed together like a thunderclap.


    And I caught Taci¡¯s spearhead, just before it would drive through my burning eyes. My limbs burned and strained as I tried to hold off this monster¡¯s weapon.


    The asura leaned forward, pressing my back into the ground as he pushed harder on his spearshaft. I was shoved deeper and deeper into the stones, my telekinetic shroud straining as the pantheon savored his position.


    Not far away, I sensed another heartbeat flare.


    ¡°I¡¯ve already died twice, pantheon,¡± I wheezed, the breath pressed from my lungs as I fought to keep the spearpoint from my skull. ¡°How many times will you have to kill me before I rip off your head?¡±


    Taci¡¯s olive-green eyes gleamed vindictively as his grip on my leg strengthened, making my bones creak and fracture. ¡°It is in a lesser¡¯s nature to die,¡± he hissed. ¡°It seems you haven¡¯t learned that truth well enough. I will be your master in this lesson.¡±


    And his intent bled away again, just like it did every time he used Mirage Walk. Except he was right in front of me, looming like a specter of death. What need would he have to move his legs¨C


    I realized almost too late.


    I engaged Resonant Flow, forcing my heart to beat for a moment. My scars screamed with the light of the morning sun. At the same time, I called on every ounce of sound magic I could, forcing it into the asura¡¯s spear in an oscillating wave.


    Barely in time. My spell traveled up the spearshaft towards Taci¡¯s arm at the exact instant he fired mana across his muscles and tendons for a Burst Strike.


    My frantic, last-ditch attack just about saved my life. As Taci¡¯s arms blurred from sudden force¡ªthe same concept that made Arthur¡¯s Burst Strike work¡ªmy reverberating sound magic ripped at his muscles and pulped his flesh.


    His spear ripped itself free of my grasp, becoming a blur as it severed my right hand instead of obliterating my skull. The crash of the spear into and through the castle¡¯s foundations created a hole a yard wide that stretched down into an abyss.


    Taci stumbled backward with a pained grunt, clutching at the pulped meat of his right arm with disbelief.


    My shrouded foot dissipated for a split instant, before it resolidified as Resonant Flow flickered away. I ground my teeth as I kipped back to my feet, adrenaline running hot as I pulled my right hand back to my severed wrist with my regalia, healing over the damage.


    Taci stared at me with a mix of disbelief and confusion for the first time as his right arm hung weakly at his side. He clutched his shoulder with his left, eyes wide. I tasted that fear of his again. Not fear of me. But I didn¡¯t understand what he was terrified of.


    ¡°You are like the Lesser King,¡± he said quietly, his emotions shifting. ¡°A mortal defiant.¡±


    The air was silent and still except for my heavy breathing. Sweat rolled down my skin as I reasserted the truth of my situation. I¡¯d barely survived that last confrontation. If Taci had used Burst Strike¡ªMirage Strike?¡ªthat close again, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be able to save myself the next time. This damned dungeon limited me in every way.


    ¡°Not used to being defied, Thyestes?¡± I taunted, regenerating my foot slowly. Blood stained my pants and arms in a quiet reminder of how close I¡¯d come to death.


    Then the young asura did something I would have never expected. Though anger rushed through his intent at my taunt and a vein pulsed at the back of his skull, I felt his¡­ respect. Acknowledgment. The darkness of the dungeons suddenly seemed all the more ominous. The melted rims of the cells where my plasma had seared past cast the warm in a dim glow. The many scars of Taci¡¯s force-type mana arts across the stones reminded me of the battlefield outside of the Redwater.


    ¡°I have not granted you proper respect, Toren Daen,¡± he said through gritted teeth, shifting his stance. ¡°I shall do so now.¡±


    I need you now, Aurora, I thought, the shadows of this dungeon clawing at my robes and trying to pull me down. I need your light.


    But then something entirely unexpected happened. A dark, dark power erupted from one of the nearby cells, tumultuous and turbulent. I felt goosebumps rise along my neck as I abruptly shifted to face this new threat.


    Sylvie¡ªher form partly draconic, with scales the color of waxed obsidian gleaming in the darkness¡ªleapt from the shadows of the cells behind me. Her glinting amber eyes met mine, resolve and anger threading through them.


    And in her hands was a concentrated nova of soulfire that danced with pure mana that was far, far too dark. ¡°Not here!¡± she snarled, her voice deadly and deep. ¡°Not in my castle!¡±


    Oh, fuck, I thought, recognizing the power that flickered between her palms as she aimed them at both Taci and me.


    Then the world erupted in a storm of black flames, erasing everything in their path.


    I threw out a bubble of telekinesis, white fire, and vibrating sound in a tried and true method of withstanding dark Vritra arts, just before it struck.


    It pushed me backward, the devouring flames flickering as white and black danced like yin and yang. I couldn¡¯t see anything as I flew backward under the force, fighting to keep my defenses high.


    Those black flames rushed past and around me as I hurtled down the length of the cell. Through the rock as they were gradually eaten away. On and on and on we went, my muscles straining until¨C


    The conflagration of soulfire erupted from the side of the earth like a gout of volcanic anger, spewing me and Taci out into the night sky like hurled stones.

 Chapter 287: Morningstar

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    I knew the moment that I had exited the confines of the castle¡¯s cage. The air was cleaner. The stench of despair and death left me. The cool mist of the night kissed my skin, soothing my aches and worries.


    I couldn¡¯t see the stars or the moon as I hovered in the sky, finally free. Even without the warmth of the sun, I felt unburdened for the first time in a long, long time.


    Dicathen¡¯s flying castle glided nonchalantly through the skies, uncaring of the gaping wound in its underbelly from which I¡¯d emerged. Like the rings of a planet¡ªor more accurately, shackles around a throat¡ªthe concentric ring of floating arches hovered uncaringly at the far borders of the castle¡¯s range. Beyond those, there was nothing but a mist that blocked out the night like a funeral shroud.


    ¡°Will you flee?¡± a voice said nearby. ¡°Will you cower?¡±


    I slowly turned in the air, calmly observing the asura that had followed me. Taci Thyestes no longer clutched his right arm, instead clenching his left where he floated in the sky. His intent radiated a more focused anger than before.


    I let out a leisurely exhale. Then shrouded wings slowly grew from my back, their crystalline light glowing subtly. I raised my hand, inspecting the bloodstains all across my body where the pantheon had wounded me.


    I could run now. Taci and I both knew it. I was a master of the sky and fast as a thunderbolt. Any attempted pursuit on his part would be treacherous and difficult.


    I considered it for a moment, before brushing it aside. Taci Thyestes wanted a battle, and this little god needed to die. Outside of the flying castle, the innocents would not be in danger.


    Wait for me, Seris, I thought, exhaling steam. Wait for me, Cylrit. I need to fulfill an Oath.


    My shrouded spirit slowly grew over me like an avatar of white light. Plates of powerful mana reinforced my movements as my regalia hummed warmly on my back. Soulplume burned in my veins as my red hair shifted in a breeze. Feather runes gleamed orange like hot coals across my body.


    ¡°You spoke as if you were a master of death earlier, Taci,¡± I said, my voice melodic in the night as my aura finally let loose. ¡°But this isn¡¯t your domain.¡±


    The young warrior narrowed his eyes, before holding out his left hand. The air shimmered and warped, before his winged spear phased into existence. ¡°This is just another test,¡± he said, almost as if trying to convince himself. ¡°Just another test.¡±


    The young asura¡¯s right arm was disabled from my earlier attack with Resonant Flow, but I could sense it slowly healing. I hadn¡¯t been able to cut at his lifeforce to deny that recovery, which meant I had a time limit.


    The pantheon pointed his spear at me, gritting his teeth. Then he thrust it forward.


    I leisurely drifted to the side, allowing the streak of invisible force mana to whizz past me. Taci didn¡¯t relent, however, and thrust again and again and again. His speed picked up the more he did it, his arms becoming a blur.


    I weaved past every one, the winds carrying me along. I ducked and wove and danced out of the way, grimly determined. Far behind me, the night mists parted and broke from Taci¡¯s attacks, vapor swirling as they mourned their wounds.


    A dozen shrouded feathers separated from my wings, before streaking toward the airborne asura like firecrackers. A few of Taci¡¯s force bullets intercepted them in midair, making them explode in a conflagration of white fire and buzzing vibration. But more than enough made it through his barrage.


    I followed after my homing spells, dipping and weaving as my wings batted aside any bullets that got too close. A shrouded saber of plasma hummed and blurred in the night sky as it asserted its dominance.


    Taci tried to backpedal as my glimmering feather spells reached him. After all, he¡¯d seen what happened when they exploded. But as he flew away, those hummingbirds chased him under telekinetic control. He dipped and weaved, sending out arcs of force to try and cut both them and me in two.


    I barrel rolled out of the way of one, then parted another with my saber. A few went on past me, severing the arches that surrounded the flying castle.


    ¡°You said that I was unworthy of Lady Dawn¡¯s plasma arts,¡± I seethed, deadly focused as my heart beat like an engine in my chest. ¡°You said I was a mongrel.¡±


    I danced through the sky around the castle, explosions and rippling waves of mana making the glass of the structure shudder and crack. Fireworks trailed across the night at hypersonic speed as I finally embraced my bloodright.


    I reached the asura before my homing feathers did. He spun with supernatural speed, but he wasn¡¯t on the ground anymore. He was in the sky.


    His spearpoint lashed out for my skull, but instead of my flesh, a conjured accel path met it instead. The spear was torn from the pantheon¡¯s hands with a sonic boom, blurring off into the darkness of the night.


    It didn¡¯t phase him. He lined up a punch towards my core, his teeth clenched and his eyes wild. Then, he engaged Mirage Strike.


    His fist blurred through the air, shattering my shrouded spirit¡ªand then my ribs¡ªon contact. I simply smiled through bloody teeth, then grabbed his hand. The sharp talons of my spirit dug into the meat of his wrist, drawing blood.


    ¡°But your blood is just as red as mine.¡±


    My wings shone with dawnlight, each feather vibrating with the speed to cut through steel. They scythed towards the asura¡¯s head, promising to relieve him of it. Taci hastily twisted in my grip, his wounds tearing as he tried to kick me in the chin with a force-imbued strike.


    It missed, the force that erupted from his attack parting the mist in desperation. My lips twisted in a grimace of vindictive fury.


    The razor edges of my shrouded wings rebounded off his mana barrier in some places, the vibrating sound spells unable to find purchase. Others missed from the asura¡¯s supernatural grace. But Taci could not spare himself every wound.


    My winged attacks carved deep, bloody gashes along his left arm, chest, and legs. For a split instant, Taci drowned in a blender. The lifeforce I siphoned from his wounds rushed through me in a vampiric draw.


    The young asura¡¯s eyes widened in true fear as he screamed in agony, blood streaming across my wings. His left arm opened, his spear returning in a sudden haze. He twisted it, trying to skewer me through the head.


    Instead, I threw him through the sky. He tumbled haphazardly like a broken bird, spraying blood from a dozen wounds like a sprinkler. His mortal flow watered the castle far below like rain.


    Then the homing feathers hit him. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. They thunked one after another into the left side of his body like arrowshafts.


    Time stood still for a moment as I stared into the terrified boy¡¯s eyes. For the first, critical moment, this little god seemed to understand. All along, he thought he was playing a game. This war? This battle? The concept of lessers?


    They didn¡¯t matter to him. Why should they? He was going to live for thousands more years. They were out of his concern.


    The dartlike shafts of my shrouded feathers embedded across his body told another story. They brightened for an instant, the white fire within straining against their confines.


    I clenched my fist shut, and every single feather detonated.


    A firestorm of white-hot fury expanded in a radius fifty feet wide, heat banishing the nearby clouds with Taci at its center. The not-so-distant castle rumbled as the air warped from the flames.


    Taci¡¯s body shot away like a bullet fired from the chamber of a gun, his form breaking the sound barrier. He slammed into one of the floating arches surrounding the castle, cratering the golden-white stones. Boulders fell away into the Beast Glades far below, the sound of crushing stone joining that of screaming explosions.


    I shot after him, unable to risk my advantage. The lifeforce I¡¯d taken had healed over the damage he¡¯d done, but I knew this asura was far from finished. My prey wouldn¡¯t cease fighting unless I forced them.


    I slammed into the crater Taci had made, my wings poised. The left side of the asura¡¯s body was covered in burns, blood leaking around him in a pool from the unhealing wounds I¡¯d given him. His eyes were wide and fearful as they took in my burning, angry form.


    He tried to thrust his spear at me again, but a simple application of telekinesis pinned his hand to the stones, before a feather speared his palm to the rock. The young asura grunted in pain.


    I loomed over him like an angel of death and fire, the burning pits of my eyes reflected in the depths of his. ¡°Those wounds will never close,¡± I decreed, my voice carrying on the wind as the fire and sound mana in the atmosphere bent to my will. ¡°Every cut I give you, I make you mortal. You bleed like a lesser, and you will never stop bleeding.¡±


    Indeed. I had ripped and torn at Taci¡¯s lifeforce whenever they intersected. It was difficult to do so with his asuran physique, but the more I absorbed and understood, the easier it came. Though his mana was already working to wash away the burns across his left side, the cuts my wings had given him would never heal.


    Taci¡¯s eyes widened so much I thought they might burst. I relished his anger and terror, drinking in that horror he felt. Because that was what the asura of Epheotus and Alacrya didn¡¯t understand. They had gone so long without bleeding that they thought themselves invincible.


    I prepared to thrust my shrouded saber through this child¡¯s skull and finish this.


    But something changed.


    I didn¡¯t see what hit me, but I felt it. My shrouded spirit cracked as pain erupted across my body. I blurred backward through the sky, my wings barely stabilizing me.


    Then I slammed into the tall spire of the castle, cratering the stones in a mirror of Taci¡¯s earlier situation. Glass shattered as rubble fell toward the courtyard below, eliciting screams and shouts of alarm from the gathered soldiers there.


    I blinked, snarling through bloodied teeth as my mana-enhanced eyes saw what had happened. Little agonies popped and ripped their way through my body as my stressed heart fought to use the lifeforce I¡¯d stolen to ease my wounds.


    Taci was transforming, finally taking on his race¡¯s inherent mana-enhanced form. Two more arms had erupted out of his back on either side of his body, which was presumably what had hit me. His skin was hardening into yellow scales. Twin horns erupted from the side of his head, and I knew they would eventually form plates that would cover his upper face like a helmet.


    I ignored the mages far below as they prepared their spells, many of them aiming frantically up at me. A barrage of all four elements peppered me, but my shrouded spirit and wings turned most of it away with contemptuous ease. The rest I ignored as I focused on my priorities.


    I called on my regalia. Threads of telekinetic force wove themselves in front of me as an elongated spear of shrouded plasma hummed in my grip. I lined up my sights, aiming for the bleeding deity so far away.


    Taci seemed to sense what I was doing, even from where he was in that crater. He raised his spear, cocking it back as if he would throw it.


    ¡°Stake of the Morning,¡± I whispered, my voice melodic as Soulplume burned my Vessel. Then I hurled my attack at the same time that Taci¡¯s arm blurred with a Mirage Strike.


    The crack of sound that echoed out from our attacks blew away any and all of the distant mages¡¯ shouts of fear and terror. My phasing streak of white light met another of raging red. The world exploded with light as my spell and Taci¡¯s spear diverted each other.


    The white streak of my attack carved a hole through one of those distant arches, while the winged spear blinked somewhere into the far distance, carving a trail into the distant mists. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He can use his version of Burst Strike to throw his weapon with similar power as Stake of the Morning, I realized with alarm. I need to get away from the castle. The collateral damage will only increase.


    I jumped just in time, a wave of force-type mana severing the spire I¡¯d been crouched on. The top of the building began to list to the side, creaking and groaning as it belatedly realized it had been cut. On instinct, I grabbed the top of the tower as it fell with my telekinesis, raising it up like a shield in front of a coming arrow.


    Taci struck like a cannonball. He trailed blood as he burst through the building¡¯s top, the lifeforce-inflicted wounds I¡¯d given him streaming red. There was no sign of the burns I¡¯d worked so painstakingly to deliver earlier, and his right arm¡ªwhich I¡¯d pulped using Resonant Flow¡ªwas in perfect working condition.


    The only damage that remained across the glimmering gold scales of his hardened skin were those I¡¯d carved with my heartfire blades. Six eyes watched me with feverish intensity: two from the front, and two more from either side of the asura¡¯s plated skull.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what it means to be an asura!¡± he bellowed, his voice like a stone being crushed as his meaty hands reached for me. ¡°I will put you in your place!¡±


    I was already blurring backward, recognizing the foolishness of engaging in a close combat duel with a martial master. I pulled the destroyed rubble with me, unwilling to let it fall on the mages in the courtyard far below.


    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to be human!¡° I yelled back, my pulse thumping like a drum as my diminishing mana reserves kept me fighting. ¡°But even the so-called greatest of you can¡¯t do that?¡±


    As I moved, I commanded the rubble to swirl around me in a hurricane of power. Around and around it went, blocking the asura from my sight as he chased after me in the sky. The glass and stone within slowly began to heat up as I commanded the ambient mana, igniting the oxygen with a touch of white fire.


    ¡°And you mock even our force-type mana arts,¡± the asura seethed from beyond. ¡°Contemptuous.¡±


    I felt Taci eject wave after wave of invisible force into my vortex of telekinetic power, attempting to rip it apart. But my arts flowed more than his. I wasn¡¯t rigid and defined like this toddler asura¡¯s attempt at power. So when his arcs of cutting power entered my range, they were swept into the current of white fire and melting stones.


    The effort of maintaining the tornado made my mind burn. My breathing shortened as more and more power was packed into the centralized vortex as it protected me from the asura¡¯s assault.


    But I knew it wouldn¡¯t last.


    My feet touched down on a far distant rung of the castle¡¯s floating ring of arches. The moment I was out of range of the castle, I clapped my hands together.


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    The shape of my tornado changed. Where before it had been a hurricane whirling around an eye, now it twisted and howled in a vortex of angry white fire and raging force. It moved like a drill as it lashed toward Taci, denying the night with a roar that sounded like a dragon.


    Taci was prepared for it. He¡¯d resummoned his spear, holding it in two of his six arms. And as the angry tornado of power surged for him, I saw his muscles tense.


    He executed a Mirage Strike. His red weapon blurred upward, parting my attack clean in two. An undeniable wave of cutting force rippled towards me, alarm bells roaring in my mind.


    I jumped to the side, my wings glistening. The hundred-foot-tall arc of invisible power bisected the ring I¡¯d been standing on a moment before. The entire massive structure groaned.


    The night sky erupted with flaming shrapnel as the remnants of my tornado spell peppered the rims of the castle¡¯s ring. Taci glared at me with undisguised hate, the fingers of each of his hands burned black from parting the tornado.


    When I landed again, my mana channels aching and my core warning me in protest, I tried to ask myself what Aurora would do. How would she fight this fool?


    I found my answer immediately.


    I grinned despite myself as I stared up at the bleeding pantheon. ¡°Can you tell the difference between your blood and mine?¡± I asked, my teeth red. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    My attention immediately honed in on the pantheon¡¯s blackened arms. It was subtle, but the ones he¡¯d used to execute his Mirage Strike were trembling ever-so-slightly. I could sense the damage that technique did to him over his heartfire.


    He hasn¡¯t mastered it entirely, I thought. If he had, he would be using it with abandon to destroy me. But he risks damaging himself.


    How could I use that to my advantage?


    My taunt struck home. The asura clenched his hands around his spear, his hesitation evaporating. His powerful form blurred as he slammed into the ground not far away, mana quaking with his passing.


    ¡°I will tear you limb from limb, Toren Daen,¡± he sneered, each syllable like a breaking stone. ¡°I¡¯ll tear them away as many times as it takes till they no longer regrow.¡±


    I opened with a salvo of telekinetic homing feathers, my wings strong as sweat beaded down my face. As they swirled like angry hornets toward the asura, he flickered about, making utterly minimal movements to avoid each one. With the precision of his dodges, it almost appeared like he was teleporting. It was honestly impressive, the way he phased from place to place using precise applications of Mirage Walk.


    Taci swung his spear half a dozen times, sending out waves of force mana toward me. I rose back into the air, unwilling to let myself get pinned down on the ground. But more than that, I needed to gain distance from the castle. I¡¯d avoided collateral damage as best I could so far, but as our fight reached a truly colossal scale, I needed room.


    I ascended at a rapid pace, the clouds and pervading night mist swallowing me whole. Like a lone star in the night, the heat of my body helped me carve an upward path. Every flap of my wings was accompanied by a swirl of water vapor that clung to them.


    I felt Taci¡¯s rage over his intent as I rose, the pervasive clouds blocking him from my sight. He wanted me to stay and fight. And sure enough, he followed.


    I rolled to the side as the clouds around me parted, a crescent of cutting force passing me by. Then another and another followed me, attempting to clip my wings. I wasn¡¯t able to dodge them, so fevered was my rise. A few cuts opened along my arms. One on my leg. Another across my back that nearly removed a shrouded wing.


    ¡°You cannot hide in the dark, Toren Daen!¡± Taci¡¯s voice bellowed after me. ¡°You challenged Epheotus! You challenged a pantheon! Be it the sky or the land, there is no hope for you!¡±


    No hope for me?


    I ground my teeth as I finally erupted from the clouds, emerging into the starlit night sky above it all. I glared angrily up at those endless stars, thinking of my recent talk with Sylvie, where I tried to bestow upon her a kindling ember of hope. A unique bonfire pulsed in turn with my tired heart as I stared up at those distant constellations. So far out of my reach. So far beyond me.


    There was no sun in the sky. There was no moon to light my way. By all logic, there was no hope. With all that had changed, I couldn¡¯t even be sure that Arthur would develop his aether core. I couldn¡¯t be sure that there would be a chance to defy these asura who held the world in their fearful, petty fingers.


    My thoughts came faster and faster as I rose higher and higher, but those distant stars never grew closer. Ages ago, Seris had lamented how distant they were. We mortals would never touch them, but it was in the taunting nature of the cosmos to tease us with the possibility.


    What had the people of Burim taken to calling me? What did they whisper amidst the rubble, what stories did they tell of the devastation? They called me the Morningstar, didn¡¯t they?


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to chase the stars,¡± I said, anger burning my vision red as I finally slowed. ¡°That¡¯s what I told her, long ago.¡±


    What made Arthur the only source of this world¡¯s hope? What made him the single torch that could be followed? Why did I have this idea in my head that without him and his aetheric powers, there was nothing but destruction left for this world?


    I heaved for breath, my core aching from maintaining Soulplume. I swiveled in the sky, the darkness of the night laughing in the face of my resolve. As far as I could see in every direction, clouds covered the world in a blanket of smothering white. It was beautiful in its vast tranquility.


    But it was quiet. The world itself was being strangled of its ability to breathe by those clouds.


    I called on my magic, summoning dozens of streams of telekinetic thread around me. They wove between each other, creating churning accel paths. Half a dozen input points glimmered reflectively, promising death and destruction to any who entered their range.


    Stake of the Morning was a powerful spell. I counted it among the most powerful in my arsenal, but it had a few glaring weaknesses. One of those being that it was hard to hit a moving target, and my foes could predict its angle before it hit.


    I would never normally be able to hit Taci with one of these. He moved too quickly and was too intelligent in battle to be caught unawares.


    But if there was more than one?


    I¡¯d never been able to truly let loose before. As I¡¯d trained myself in the depths of the Beast Glades, making my way ever-so-slowly to the Hearth, I had to be careful with absurd displays of power lest I potentially give away my location. Even in the Breaking of Burim, I¡¯d restrained myself to some degree.


    But as spears of solid plasma slowly hovered in the air around me, banishing the darkness, I remembered something I¡¯d almost forgotten.


    I didn¡¯t chase the stars. I brought the sun myself.


    Taci emerged from the clouds not far below me, outlined perfectly against the endless white. He was a distant dot, but I could see his expression of anger as he stared upward.


    As his six eyes observed the waiting attacks, however, that anger turned to surprise. And then fear.


    The world froze. I raised my hand languidly, sweat streaming down my face from the mental effort required to keep all these accel paths active. Exhaustion clouded my mind and made my thoughts run slow, but they still ran.


    ¡°You challenged a phoenix in their domain, pantheon,¡± I hissed, my words carrying on winds of sound magic as I bathed in the heat of my power, ¡°and you have the audacity to accuse me of arrogance?¡±


    I swung my hand down.


    One Stake fired with a rapturous boom, a streak of white outlined in that realm of heaven above the clouds.


    Taci managed to dodge the first Stake of the Morning by sheer skill, flying to the side. The second one, too, he avoided with careful movement, still rising with a quiet fear as he closed the distance between us. I could see the desperation in his eyes as he recognized the urgency of his plight.


    But I¡¯d gotten his measure. I could sense his intent and desire as he gritted his teeth, like Icarus charging the sun with his wax wings.


    Mirage Walk was powerful. It was the secret to how the pantheon race had become martial warriors among the asuran clans. By taking those divine, blurring steps, they could dodge nearly anything. The warrior race could leisurely avoid any and all threats to their safety as they closed the distance, before gutting their foe.


    But to use it, one needed to be on the ground. One needed footholds to press off of if they wished to blur about like a dancing butterfly.


    The third Stake couldn¡¯t be dodged. Taci had flown too close, and he was within my domain. No foothold would save him.


    So when that spear of holy light neared, he raised his spear to deflect it. I saw his muscles tense, felt his intent mist away, just like it always did before he used Mirage Strike.


    His arms blurred upward and his bloody spear flashed with a boom. The winged head of his weapon kissed the white streak of my Stake: and he parried it. My attack splintered into a dozen shards of reflective white plasma. They looked like shooting stars as they streaked through the night.


    We locked eyes then, the light reflecting off our faces as our determination clashed. Our heartbeats raged in our chests, our blood pumping with the song of battle.


    Then the next Stake fired. Taci moved on, undeterred as he used another Mirage Strike, this time with his second set of hands. Just like the first time, my spell was shattered, the remnants falling like dying angels through the clouds below.


    At the same moment, he sliced the air with one of his open hands. Streaks of force-type mana surged from the edges, twisting as they cut toward me. I twisted sideways on instinct, trying to let them surge past me. But as tired as I was and with exhaustion slowly turning my body to lead, I was only partially successful.


    Taci¡¯s attack severed my wings and carved trenches across my back, but I ignored the pain. The pantheon cocked back his arm, his eyes gleaming angrily as he hurtled towards me. In turn, my last stakes were poised to tear him to shreds.


    His intent misted away, and my eyes widened. Mirage Strike. But if he abandoned his spear now, he wouldn¡¯t have anything to defend himself from the oncoming Stakes. Was he trying to go for mutual destruction? To hit me with his spear at the same time my attacks hit him, too? He was barely two hundred feet below me. He was too close to avoid it.


    Hastily, I pulled myself backward, twisting in the sky.


    Just as Taci threw his spear, normally. It was fast as sound as it whizzed past my ear, but nothing like a Mirage Strike. At the same time, I allowed the last two of my Stakes to enter their accel paths, ready to finish this.


    But in that microsecond before I allowed those spears to accelerate, my attention focused on the asura in front of me.


    He bled from a dozen wounds. Long, jagged cuts along his chest, back, legs, and arms told the story of the blender my wings had left him in. His martial robes¡ªa deep crimson, to hide the blood of his enemies¡ªwere burnt and torn in a dozen places. The golden scales of his asuran form gleamed in contrast with the constant red.


    All six of his arms were blackened and burned, consequences from parrying my Stakes of the Morning. They trembled on a nearly imperceptible scale, the damage from using his technique making itself known.


    But there was something wrong. Those eyes of his¡­ They were too determined. He was a warrior. He should understand his approaching death from starfire. But I couldn¡¯t read his intent anymore, as he¡¯d erased it. He moved forward in near slow motion as death approached.


    Why had he erased his intent? So I couldn¡¯t predict his movements?


    Then I saw the slight warping of the air beneath the asura¡¯s feet, and I realized too late. My pulse didn¡¯t even have time to rise in terror as Taci¡¯s eyes glinted malevolently.


    I had miscalculated.


    Twin Stakes accelerated along guide rails, streaking like scissors toward my foe. At the same time, I desperately tried to fly backward, recognizing exactly what was about to happen.


    Using a buildup of force-type mana beneath him as a foothold, Taci blurred forward, his asuran physique slipping the hangman¡¯s noose of my Stakes. The streaks of white light seared through the clouds, leaving me wide open as the asura closed the gap at last.


    I tried to summon a saber, but my weakening magic meant it wasn¡¯t coming nearly as fast as I was used to. My core ached as the shrouded saber coalesced, but Taci was faster.


    One of his arms slammed into my wrist with pinpoint precision, eliciting a grunt of pain as I tried to escape. My shrouded spirit turned away most of the damage, but it was enough to divert any attempted attack.


    The asura pushed on through his wounds, grabbing my arm and flowing behind me in perfect form. ¡°Did you think the pantheons became the race of greatest warriors by being unable to kill things that ran from us?¡±


    Quick as lightning, two of the asura¡¯s massive, burly arms locked around my throat, pinning me to his chest with a headlock. Then, without a second to waste, he began to hammer his fists into my shrouded spirit.


    I gritted my teeth, sinking the tips of my shrouded talons into Taci¡¯s arms as he tried to smash through defenses. Boom, boom, boom, boom. Like the pistons of an engine, he kept striking. His punches were paltry and weak compared to what they were at the start of our fight. He¡¯d sustained too much damage and lost too much blood to maintain his earlier fervor. The smell of burnt flesh invaded my nose from where his charred arms held me.


    My avatar splintered, but it didn¡¯t break. I funneled more mana into it, pain radiating from my core. The cracks mended over nearly as fast as they appeared, but I couldn¡¯t maintain it forever.


    I struggled and thrashed, desperately healing the damage of oxygen deprivation over and over as his muscles tightened around my throat. I tore at the streams of lifeforce from Taci¡¯s arms, using them to heal my wounds and wash away my agonies. But he still wouldn¡¯t let go.


    Taci¡¯s breathing was heavy and pained as he forced us through the air, orienting us towards something far away.


    His spear. It was returning at an accelerated pace, its point glinting malevolently in the night.


    ¡°The asura gave lessers their magic,¡± he wheezed weakly into my ear. ¡°We can take it away. It is our right. Worthy opponent you may have been, Toren Daen, but you are just like every other.¡±


    Soulplume flickered in my veins as I struggled to maintain my power. My hair flashed colors, my Phoenix Will retreating back towards my core.


    No, I thought angrily, reasserting my grip on my power as that spear of death approached. No. I refused to die here. I refused to die to Taci. I refused to give up the fire that had begun to kindle in my breast. Those embers of hope had grown as I¡¯d spoken with Lusul about his child, as I¡¯d promised Seris to return Cylrit to her, as I¡¯d confided in Rinia and Sylvie. They were a weak, steady candlefire before, finding uneven ground in the wake of Burim¡¯s Breaking.


    But somehow, as I saw my death approaching in a flash of red, I felt those embers rise into a bonfire.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I hissed through bloody teeth, rejecting the despair coming my way. ¡°It can be taken away.¡±


    I drew in all the mana I¡¯d been using to sustain my shrouded spirit, cycling it back through my weary core. The snow-white edges of it gleamed with how close I was to the next stage. And as Taci¡¯s fists suddenly cracked my bones and pulped my insides, I focused on my regalia.


    As that spear approached, an accel path glimmered into existence to meet it. Except it wasn¡¯t pointing away.


    It was pointing towards me. Towards us.


    I felt Taci¡¯s fear as he noticed what was about to happen. He tried to pull himself away in the split instant before it became too late. He didn¡¯t even have time to speak.


    I gripped his upper arms, forcing them to remain in the chokehold as I grinned.


    One of Taci¡¯s auxiliary arms was thrusting weakly outward, no doubt to try and resummon his spear.


    Too late.


    The weapon hit that accel path, then became a streak of red. The sound barrier shattered as the asura¡¯s weapon surged faster than it had been meant to. Because at its original speed, it would have only impaled me.


    But with the speed of a railgun¡¯s fired bullet?


    I only had time to feel the pain after the spear had passed through my stomach, leaving a bloody mess behind. I felt suddenly blind as every sense I kept close abandoned me. Touch, hearing, sight, mana¡­ It drifted away, leaving me cold. Soulplume flickered out as I lost control of my power, the pain radiating all across my body.


    But I wasn¡¯t the only one who had been hit.


    Taci coughed blood onto my shoulder, his grip slackening where it still held my throat. His arms spasmed weakly, his sense of mana disrupted.


    We began to fall.


    The clouds welcomed us gratefully, embracing us in hugs of graceful water vapor as I struggled to remain conscious. Down and down and down we went, the Beast Glades far below waiting for their catch. Our blood trailed in the mists like ribbons of scarlet silk.


    I blinked headily, trying to remember what I¡¯d been thinking a moment before. As I fell, my consciousness winked in and out. I could see the trees. Feel¡­ Feel the wind rushing past my face as gravity asserted her dominance. I felt pain, too. So¡­ So much pain.


    We were so close to the ground. Only a few seconds more, and we¡¯d be there.


    Close to the ground.


    I remembered. I was fighting. I was battling an asura. I was killing him.


    I called on my heartfire. I had an abundance of it from what I¡¯d ripped from Taci, and it eagerly washed over the bloody hole in my stomach. And after that, it banished the influence of Taci¡¯s spear on my mana channels and veins.


    My senses returned like a flood of light, agony pulsing from my core at the overuse of my power. The world returned to focus.


    I gritted my teeth, then called on my Phoenix Will one last time. Taci¡¯s arms were tightening around my throat, a sign that he was recovering quickly, too. Before long, he¡¯d have his mana back.


    I broke out of his grip with ease, spinning in the air. My fist clenched as I called on my bloodright a final time, asking the skies to heed me. I rotated with impossible force, calling up the last dregs of mana I had available. Flame and lifeforce gleamed along my knuckles.


    I was done. I was done questioning my past and focusing on my regrets. So what if Arthur could kill gods? So what if that was what made it possible to resist? So what if that was what gave this world hope? I had found light once more in a new path.


    So I would let this god know of hope through its absence.


    My heartbeat thundered in my veins as I locked eyes with Taci. The plates of his face gleamed in the white firelight. Comprehension dawned there, slow and painful. He pulled his blackened arms upward, crossing them in front of his face as he tried in vain to protect himself. His mana signature returned barely in time, energy rushing to try and brace him against the attack.


    It wasn¡¯t enough.


    My knuckles obliterated Taci¡¯s haphazard guard, before slamming into his face. The bones in my hand fractured as they pulverized Taci¡¯s faceplate, blood spraying. The young asura¡¯s defenses cracked almost in slow motion, breaking under the weight of my power. And as my heartfire intersected his one more time, I knew these wounds would never heal.


    And then the fire along my hand exploded, bathing his skull in white fire.


    Taci shot off like a white comet towards the ground below, crashing through the trees of the Beast Glades. His mana signature flickered weakly as he disappeared beyond my sight.


    Then I slammed into the ground. My legs belatedly bent as I halted my fall, my bones creaking. Soulplume abandoned me entirely as I collapsed to my hands and knees, my Phoenix Will retreating into my core. I heaved for breath as I knelt there for a time, just¡­ breathing.


    I felt a pinprick on the back of my neck. Then another. Then another.


    Rain began to fall in a slow, steady drizzle, seeping into the earth and blessing the nearby trees. It sank into my clothes, mixing with the blood and soaking my hair. The pitter-patter of the clouds¡¯ dance was almost soothing.


    I slowly pulled myself to my feet, ignoring my body¡¯s protests as I stared up at the sky, feeling the water wash over my bloodstained face. I forgot myself in them for a moment as that cool water washed away my fears and reservations. It felt uniquely cleansing, nature¡¯s gift for a hard-fought battle. As it seeped through my clothes, it took away my sorrow. My pain, my fear, my anger. Even my pride and arrogance washed away in the pinkish flow. I felt myself forgetting everything about myself for a single moment, enraptured in a single moment of blissful ignorance.


    When tales of old spoke of a phoenix rising from the ashes of its own corpse, I thought, hardly aware of myself, Did they ever speak of the rain? Did they ever talk about what it was like to stay at the center of a rainstorm, hearing its lulling heartbeat?


    I drank in the scent of quiet rain, my eyes closed. I¡¯d forgotten what I¡¯d been doing a moment before through the exhaustion. What was it, again? What was I here for?


    Ahhh, yes.


    It took me a moment to return to everything that I was, the reprieve of the rain drifting away. I found my answer again, cementing it into place like a sword driven through stone. I opened my eyes, staring into the darkness of the Beast Glades beyond. I took a solemn step forward, my boot sinking into the wet grass. Then another, then another. A shrouded saber sputtered into my grip.


    I remembered. I was going to slay a god.

 Chapter 288: Those Who Hold the World at Ransom

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    It had been a long time since I welcomed anything cold. My blood ran hot, and every pulse of my heart banished the chill of the world. But in the depths of a hot and humid summer, it was a novelty to feel anything other than warm.


    But as the slow rain soaked my clothes and made my hair stick to my skin, I marveled at how paradoxically relaxing the cold was. It washed the blood from my face in a slow draw that made me sigh in exhausted relief.


    As I walked, I could feel the grass beneath the sole of my right foot. Taci had cut it off at the very start of our fight, which had relieved me of my well-worn boot. The soil felt grounded and real beneath my bare skin. The scent of fresh rain mingled with the quiet solemnity of the Glades.


    The forest was silent except for the pitter-patter of rain and my beleaguered footsteps. Every beast had fled in the wake of the cacophonous battle that had made the sky tremble. Even those who bore the mantle of S-class ran with their tails between their legs.


    My heartbeat slowed as I found the first trace. A tree ten feet thick had shattered clean in two like a matchstick from some sort of impact. And as I loped forward, mana rotation slowly drawing energy towards my weary mana core, I saw more and more signs.


    A furrow of dirt trailed on like a road to destiny. Drops of red blood mingled with the puddles of rainwater, the cleansing breath of the sky pushing away the scarlet. But the devastation couldn¡¯t all be washed away by the rain.


    Taci¡¯s body had smashed through a few trees, before carving a trench in the earth. It had finally stopped once his back hit a boulder. A pool of red slowly spread around him, unbanished by the drizzle from on high. The hole in his stomach wept crimson openly, an injury that was bound to be fatal eventually.


    But as the young asura raised his head to look at me, I tilted my head contemplatively.


    His entire face was burned. His eyes¡ªall six of them¡ªhad been destroyed by my last strike. But he was still awake. He was still conscious. An asura¡¯s physique was absurd. The wounds on his body would have killed a normal man a dozen times over, but I could tell from the weak pulsing of his heartfire that he wouldn¡¯t die for a time yet.


    Lightning flashed overhead, bathing us in light for a split instant. The rainfall picked up.


    Taci and I exchanged no words. We didn¡¯t need to. As I slowly strode forward, a shrouded saber glimmering in my grip, we reached a quiet understanding.


    Taci kept his intent leashed. Even as his death approached, he desperately refused to let me sense his emotions. His six arms¡ªeach blackened and burned¡ªtrembled at his side as he awaited the end.


    Not from how weak they were, no: but from fear. My earlier sense of triumph and vindication sizzled away like drops of blood in the rain as I realized this. Taci was dangerous: a threat to every lesser in this world. But he was also a child, built and made to be a killer. He never got to choose his Fate, not like I did.


    I arrived before the body of the broken god, staring down at him with solemn eyes. It is sad, in a way, I thought, raising my saber high. In two timelines, this boy dies to a mortal man for his loyalty to Kezess Indrath.


    I exhaled, clenching my saber. Maybe, before the Breaking of Burim, I might have left this asura to die alone. But mercy for my enemies could not come at the expense of their victims¡ªpast or future.


    I swung my blade, ready to relieve this dying pantheon of his head.


    Instead, my body erupted in pain once more. I flew backward, lightning flashing overhead as something too fast for me to see cratered my ribs. My vision flickered in and out, before a tree welcomed my body like a clenched fist.


    I grunted in pain, bones in my back breaking as wood fractured around me. Then I fell forward to the forest floor once more, coughing and sputtering as I tried to assess what had hit me.


    Was it¡­ Was it Taci? But I¡¯d been certain he was incapacitated. He hadn¡¯t even been able to move. I groaned, forcing my weary heart to pulse lifeforce across my wounds. Splinters of wood pushed themselves free of my flesh, the rain seeping into the injuries before they sealed over.


    A disappointed sigh echoed out into the world. And the world trembled.


    My body locked up at the King¡¯s Force that gripped it. My heartbeat hammered in my chest over and over and over, my pulse accelerating in tune with rising realization. My mind told my body to run, to flee to the depths of a cave and never return.


    The ambient mana gripped me. It stole my breath. It stole my courage. It tried to steal my hope.


    I raised my head, trembling in fear at the intent that held me in its impossible grip.


    A figure stood with their back to me, their dark, militaristic coat billowing in the wind. The rain tried to soak into their close-cropped, wheat-blonde hair, but every single element of this world ceased the moment it encroached on this being¡¯s domain. Even the mud and water inched away from their boots, too afraid to sully such power. Their gloved hands were clasped behind their back as they ignored me, inspecting the bleeding body of Taci Thyestes.


    ¡°I expected better of a pantheon,¡± they mused, their tone disappointed and arrogant. ¡°To fall to a lesser being is inexcusable as a servant of Epheotus. It seems your skills were¡­ overstated to us.¡±


    Then they turned to look at me, their upturned chin and intent crushing me back into the mud. Those eyes held galaxies in them. A captured supernova judged me worthless before their power.


    Oftentimes, I could tell what kind of expression a person liked to wear simply from the lines of their features. Lines here and there would denote age and one¡¯s tendencies. People who laughed often carried it in the folds of their features. Those who wept seemed to keep tear tracks along their face.


    The being before me bore no such markings. I could not tell if they smiled. If they frowned. If they laughed or raged. Their face was an utter, empty canvas of consuming apathy.


    Windsom Indrath, the personal messenger of Kezess Indrath, inspected me as if I were an interesting bug. ¡°Where is Aurora Asclepius, lessuran?¡± he demanded, not moving.


    My sluggish thoughts immediately darted to the phoenix wyrm pendant I¡¯d stored back in my dimension ring. It would take a few seconds to activate, but¡ª


    I flew upward, my arms wrenched back painfully as some foreign magic stapled me to a nearby tree. Shackles of pure mana wrapped around my ankles and wrists, anchoring me to the wood. I didn¡¯t think I could feel any more terror, but as those endless eyes peered through my chest and toward my core, panic arose within me once more.


    ¡°The treaty,¡± I wheezed. ¡°Asura¨C¡±


    ¡°This war is already over,¡± Windsom replied to my weak protests, ignoring my words as he scrutinized me like a fly pinned to a wall. I revised my earlier assessment of his features. His eyes weren¡¯t apathetic. They were filled with contempt. ¡°You simply do not know it yet.¡±


    Behind Windsom, another figure had appeared as if from thin air. Clad in pitch-black armor and bearing a long, white ponytail, Aldir Thyestes knelt over Taci¡¯s body. The preeminent general of the Great Eight¡¯s warrior race muttered something soft and quiet, his intent unreadable.


    The dragon straightened out his gloves, sighing in annoyance as he straightened his fist into a knife-hand. He lined it up over my chest, his eyes inquisitive. ¡°All the aether you stole is hoarded in your heart,¡± he contemplated. ¡°It seems I must simply rip it out to end you.¡±


    I snarled, unable to do much more than that. My mind raced with terror as I threaded my mana along my channels, hoping against hope as it inched toward my dimension ring. I needed to stall. I could get out of this. I refused to die.


    ¡°Do you think,¡± I wheezed, sensing the asura¡¯s arrogance, ¡°that Epheotus will stand?¡±


    Windsom paused. Not in surprise, no. But I played to the one thing that this bastard had in abundance.


    His pride.


    ¡°I have heard enough lessurans waxing poetic about the majesty of their Vritra overlords,¡± the dragon said dismissively through the thunderstorm. ¡°If these are your last words, phoenix whelp, then they¡¯re pitiful ones.¡±


    His hand shifted from where it had been poised to rip out my heart, instead going for my throat. My pupils dilated as that gloved hand neared, the leather seeming to take up my entire view. But then he pulled my collar down, revealing a single mark.


    The Brand of the Banished.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Windsom said, his galaxy eyes narrowing. ¡°It is a wonder that you can bear this mark at all. Is this why you taunt the Indraths?¡±


    There, I thought, catching immediately on this possibility. Kezess doesn¡¯t know where the Hearth is. They want to, though.


    I would never sell out the Hearth to the Indraths. Banished I might have been, but they were still my family. Perhaps I had left them for a greater cause, but the loyalty that pulsed in my heart would never die.


    ¡°Mordain won¡¯t let his sister fall into your hands,¡± I hissed, blood dribbling between my teeth. ¡°You¡¯ve miscalculated everything in this war, dragon.¡±


    My mana reached my ring. If I wanted to try this, I only had a few seconds of opportunity. Take the bait, I internally begged. You need me alive. I¡¯m your avenue to the Hearth.


    Windsom seemed unfazed. Instead, he lined up his hand over my heart once more, shrugging off my taunts. ¡°Your attempts to play for time are petty, lesser. If you thought I could not sense the mana flowing towards your ring, then you are even more prideful than I expected.¡±


    His nostrils flared slightly as he prepared the finishing blow. ¡°Too many mutts with mongrel blood exist. Your existence is a stain on the purity of the asuran races.¡±


    My eyes widened as I tried to struggle, but nothing I did offered me any respite. Windsom drew back his arm like an arrow along a bowstring, a glint of pleasure flickering in his galaxy eyes. My heartbeat raced even faster, sweat running down my face.


    When his hand sinks in, can I steal his lifeforce? I wondered, my mind racing for possibilities. I could kill him, too¡ª


    Something burned the space between Windsom and me. A dark curtain of licking black flames blocked my sight. It raced onward, howling silently as it separated us like a curtain. My eyes widened as I sensed the familiar mana signature.


    The dragon stepped backward, his eyes narrowing as the edges of his lip twitched with annoyance. The edges of his glove had been ever-so-slightly singed by the flames, and little specks of soulfire lingered there. He clenched his hands shut, washing away the energy with ease.


    Those black flames twisted midair, then separated into four distinct parts. I watched with just as much surprise as Windsom as those tongues of fire latched onto the shackles of pure mana around my wrists and ankles, cannibalizing them and tearing them apart. I fell to the mud with a wet flop, utterly confused.


    A figure stepped from the shadows far away. Like an ill omen, darkness swirled around every inch of their body. Her horns absorbed the light like a black hole, making them seem even darker than night. The dress she wore rose and fell on soft breaths of air, and their outstretched fingers still flickered with hellfire.


    For a moment, my exhausted mind wondered if Seris had intervened to save my life. Yet she was supposed to be on the north-central front of the war, not here in the Beast Glades. She was over a thousand miles away from here.


    But as my savior stepped fully from the shadows, I realized something even more bizarre.


    Sylvie Indrath bared her teeth at Windsom, her body tense and her intent quietly furious. The despair that had wrapped her like a shroud had burned like kindling, fueling something greater.


    ¡°Step away from Spellsong, Windsom,¡± the young dragon ordered, her amber eyes glinting in the darkness as she called on her magic. ¡°I command it.¡±


    Windsom slowly lowered his hand, his intent straining with respect and irritation. ¡°Lady Sylvie,¡± he said, ¡°this man is a dangerous enemy. It would be in your best interest if¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk down to me, Windsom,¡± Arthur¡¯s bond countered, marching forward. Unlike Windsom and Aldir, the rain clung to her. It soaked her hair and streamed down her horns. Her scaled dress reflected the droplets darkly. ¡°I know what he is.¡±


    Sylvie put herself between me and Windsom, forcing the dragon to take a few measured steps back. I could see his jaw flexing with annoyance.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting a war these past few months, Lord Windsom. I know what I am doing.¡±


    My eyes drifted to Sylvie¡¯s clenched hands as the young woman placed herself between me and the asura who had come to take my life. But the only question I could ask myself was why. Why was she risking herself like this? Why was she sparing me?


    Her hands trembled slightly, just like Taci¡¯s had mere moments ago. Because underneath the masks of resolution and determination, her intent smelt of fear.


    Windsom restrained a sigh. Thunder crashed overhead. ¡°You are wise and worthy of all respect, Lady Sylvie,¡± he said, trying to sound reasonable, ¡°but you have only fought in this war for months. The appointed dragons of your grandfather have seen millennia of combat. It would be wisest to adhere to our expertise.¡±


    His eyes flicked to me, then to the phoenix wyrm pendant that I clutched in my hand. I held my breath, watching this interaction with rapturous attention.


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    ¡°Maybe I would,¡± Sylvie said quietly, her shoulders slumping. Her head dipped. ¡°Maybe I would, Lord Windsom. But you don¡¯t care about this war. My grandfather doesn¡¯t even care about this war.¡±


    Windsom frowned, his blonde brow creasing like a perfect sculpture. ¡°Lady Sylvie, I assure you that Lord Indrath¡¯s highest priorities are on this war with the Vritra. They are a threat to everything our society holds sacred. You know this. And the lessuran behind you is proof of it.¡±


    Mana hummed into existence along Windsom¡¯s palm, startling in its silver purity. The world rumbled as his King¡¯s Force radiated outward again, seeking to crush my body and steal the breath from my lungs. ¡°Which is why it must be killed, before it can taint everything in Epheotus. That is the truth, Lady Sylvie. You must step aside.¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s head rose, her intent solidifying. ¡°No,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Everything you say only proves me right. You don¡¯t care.¡±


    ¡°Lady Sylvie¨C¡±


    ¡°I order you to be silent!¡± the young dragon yelled, her voice coming out half a roar. ¡°You say you have been fighting this war with the Vritra for centuries, but you care nothing for what passes in your wake.¡±


    Arthur¡¯s bond stepped forward, her aura flaring with soulfire. ¡°When I was on the ground of this war, I saw all the devastation that my father trailed behind him. Every massacre. Every battle. I was here. And then you tried to assault Taegrin Caelum again!¡±


    Windsom¡¯s brow furrowed, but he didn¡¯t open his mouth. After all, the Lady of the Indraths had commanded him to be silent. But I could see the desire to speak waging war with his pride deep within.


    ¡°When you found the opportunity to help us again¡ªwhen the lessuran behind us entered, trying to make this war better for us all¡ªyou didn¡¯t send us generals or troops or men who could train the Dicathian resistance.¡± Sylvie thrust a furious finger at where Taci lay, Aldir still kneeling over him. ¡°You sent a child who would see every life burnt away in a crimson tide. You didn¡¯t send help. You sent an untrained whelp to see them all die.¡±


    Windsom took a deep breath. ¡°You are acting emotionally right now, Lady Sylvie,¡± he tried. ¡°Taci Thyestes was assigned to this war to gain experience in combat and leadership, something he clearly failed at. But it was a logical decision for the war effort.¡±


    ¡°For the asura,¡± Sylvie countered simply, staring up at Windsom with defiance. ¡°But not those we are supposed to protect. It was never about them. This entire stance of Epheotus assisting Dicathen was all a fa?ade. Because you expected us to lose from the start.¡±


    Some sort of understanding flashed in Windsom¡¯s eyes, his intent pausing. He didn¡¯t respond to Sylvie¡¯s quiet accusation for a time, mulling over his words as he faced the heir to his clan. ¡°I see,¡± he muttered, his voice neutral. ¡°I have forgotten that you are still¡­ young. Raised among the lessers as you have been, you lack perspective.¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s hands clenched, rainwater seeping between them. ¡°I¡¯m young,¡± she agreed. ¡°But I can see what¡¯s happening. My father and grandfather¡­ They treat them the same. It¡¯s all just a game.¡±


    In that instant, I realized that I had never seen Windsom angry before. When he¡¯d slammed me against the tree and prepared to end my life, he¡¯d been disappointed. Maybe a little irritated.


    But as Windsom¡¯s intent unfurled like great, black wings that enshrouded the Glades, I knew his fury. ¡°I have weathered your disrespect, Lady Sylvie, for you are the scion of the Indrath Clan,¡± he said, his tone churning with a thousand promises of retribution. ¡°But that does not grant you immunity to insult our lord.¡±


    My heartbeat skipped over itself as I hastily began to funnel mana along my hands, but the flow was slow. I was too weak, too tired to act with the speed I needed. I shuddered, only my intimate understanding of intent keeping me conscious.


    Sylvie took a step back, settling into a defiant stance as she trembled like a leaf in the wind. Her determination and intent shrouded her like an aura, keeping her on her feet as the messenger of Kezess Indrath professed his displeasure. It raged like the storm above us, and I knew this being before us could snap us like mere twigs.


    Can I take Sylvie with me if I activate this pendant? I wondered worriedly. Will Windsom actually attack her? It must be a bluff.


    ¡°It does not matter,¡± a simple, even voice said, devoid of inflection or intent of any kind.


    Windsom''s intent froze as he turned, annoyed eyes looking toward a sole figure.


    Back near the boulder, Aldir Thyestes had used some sort of magic on Taci¡¯s body. His heartbeat had evened out, and there was some sort of preliminary mana stitching over his gut wound. But still, the injuries I¡¯d given him with my lifeforce bled.


    Aldir scooped his arms underneath Taci, cradling him gently. The blood that flowed from the young boy¡¯s wounds, unlike the rain, stained the general¡¯s pristine, black armor.


    He slowly rose, seeming apart from the world. I was reminded of how Taci¡¯s intent vanished under the use of Mirage Walk, but this¡­ This was even more primordial. The pantheon General was a void to my senses. I couldn¡¯t feel his mana. I couldn¡¯t feel his heartbeat. I couldn¡¯t even hear him breathe. I could hear Windsom¡¯s heartbeat and breath, but not Aldir''s.


    ¡°We need to move with haste, Lord Windsom,¡± he said without inflection, his third eye focusing on the dragon. ¡°Without the attention of your clan¡¯s healers, he will die. We do not have much time.¡±


    Windsom ground his teeth. ¡°You would have us leave the one who did this, then? Have you lost your sense for war, old friend?¡±


    Aldir¡¯s eye flicked to me. I stared into it, my body locking up as I lost myself in the expanse of violet. I felt myself drown in how vast it was. It was bigger than anything I¡¯d ever seen. Vast enough to watch this world from far above, judging and understanding it all.


    My world was subsumed by the single, violet dot as it peeled me apart. It flayed back the layers of what I was one meticulous piece at a time, inspecting each and judging them back to back. Time didn¡¯t pass in that inexorable moment. Skin, muscle, bone, mana, mind, soul.


    A sea of blood rose and seared in the back of my skull, backlit by an expanse of neverending stars. The Brand of the Banished burned on my neck.


    And then Aldir¡¯s casual gaze passed over, returning to Windsom.


    I fell to my knees, gasping as the rain washed away the sweat all across my face. My heart frantically remembered to beat, pumping blood and nutrients across my veins. My hand clenched my chest, digging in and drawing blood.


    My heart forgot to beat, I thought, blinking as I tried to pull myself together. My soul burned. I almost¡­


    I remembered the last time I had faced this General¡¯s eye. When I¡¯d snapped the tethers of the Lance artifacts, I had earned his attention. And that single look from a literal dimension away, way back when, had nearly killed me.


    It was humbling to remember that I was still weak.


    Sylvie had turned around. She was saying something, aether and soulfire rushing across her fingers as she sought to heal wounds that didn¡¯t exist.


    ¡°My blade is sharp as ever, Lord Windsom,¡± he said evenly. ¡°But Toren Daen will die no matter what as this lesser war draws to a close. Ending him now or at a later date matters not.¡± Especially if you risk alienating your heir, went unsaid. ¡°The priority is my pupil.¡±


    Windsom sighed, turning around and showing us his back. ¡°Very well.¡± His annoyed eyes passed over me again. ¡°Taci was a disappointment. You know our lord will demand much for this favor. He was already graced with too many honors in being placed here.¡±


    ¡°Taci was no disappointment,¡± Aldir disagreed in an even tone. ¡°His quarry exceeded expectations. It will not happen again, and Clan Thyestes will pay Lord Indrath¡¯s price for his safety.¡±


    Sylvie¡¯s amber eyes were worried as they found no wounds to heal. She opened her mouth to speak, but Windsom had a few parting words before we were finally left in peace.


    ¡°Our mission today was originally to slay the student of the Lost Prince for disseminating lies and deceit amidst Dicathian ranks,¡± he said simply. ¡°Though events of greater magnitude diverted our course, it is clear that those insidious words have sunk deeper than they should have.¡±


    I shuddered as Windsom¡¯s baleful gaze honed in on both of us. ¡°When this war ends and it is time for your retrieval, Lady Sylvie, you will learn why such things are necessary. Empathy for lesser beings only weakens your rule.¡±


    The two walked away into the darkness of the storm as I frantically cycled my mana, drinking in everything that Lady Dawn¡¯s feather could grant alongside mana rotation. My core squeezed on the brink of backlash as I tried to make sense of all that had just happened.


    The asura of Epheotus are planning something for the end of the war, too, I thought fearfully, my hands clenching the grass. Both are preparing for the finale. But what is it?


    I worked my jaw, my mouth feeling dry. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said weakly. ¡°You¡­ saved my life.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t even begin to calculate the consequences of Sylvie¡¯s actions. For me? They meant I survived. But she had taken a risk in stepping between Windsom and his victory. She¡¯d risked alienating her own grandfather, all for what she believed was right.


    That took courage and willpower. It took emotion. The same impulse that drove Mordain to defy his former friend.


    ¡°You need to escape,¡± the young dragon said without preamble, ignoring my words. ¡°They might still come back. I don¡¯t know.¡± Her eyes zipped across me, the young woman thinking just as fast as I was. ¡°You asked me what my father said to Arthur, didn¡¯t you? You said it was wrong somehow?¡±


    My attention snapped back into focus as I looked at the dragon, remembering the talk we¡¯d had right before Taci had interrupted. She¡¯d told me that Agrona had delivered a megalomaniacal speech to Arthur. But in that otherworld novel, Agrona had wanted Arthur to withdraw from the war. That was why he¡¯d approached him so cordially.


    ¡°I did,¡± I said quietly, slumping back against the nearby tree. I said the words as they came to me, struggling to filter myself past my exhaustion. ¡±But it doesn¡¯t make sense. He wouldn¡¯t¡­ He shouldn¡¯t. Unless he wants something different from before.¡±


    Sylvie simply frowned at me, the rain dripping from her horns as she measured what she would say next. ¡°He announced the massacres,¡± she said quietly. The earlier strength and courage she¡¯d shown had been like a forest fire, but as she spoke, it simmered down to a steady warmth. ¡°He goaded Arthur. Er, Grey. However you knew him.¡±


    And then she began to speak. It took a bit of time for the young dragon to relay everything that had happened in the castle¡¯s council hall. From the start, where Agrona had been puppeteering her body and lording over Arthur, to the end, where he¡¯d taunted Arthur with who might be reaching for an apple.


    My body tensed as the tale of how Agrona had compared himself to the Serpent entrenched itself insidiously in my mind. Even further, the implications of Adam and Eve and the apple made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.


    Throughout the entire story, Sylvie¡¯s hands clung to her shoulders as she spoke as quickly and precisely as possible.


    I exhaled, thumping the back of my head against a tree as my vision swam. I tried to slot this knowledge into everything I knew about the High Sovereign. He wasn¡¯t telling the truth to Arthur about it all, but neither was he lying. Agrona never lied. Not really. But neither did he tell the truth.


    And what had Agrona said, in that original novel? That Arthur was the only person on Dicathen he was interested in?


    Except now¡­ Now, Arthur was supposedly only one of two who had captured his attention.


    Rinia¡¯s warning reflected back to me, making my shoulders tense. ¡°He is focusing on you.¡±


    I could almost imagine Agrona in Sylvie¡¯s body, lounging atop a throne as he stared contemptuously down. I could see a perfect, red apple, glinting in his grip. Those red eyes recalled past terrors. The traumas of a deep, dark cathedral, where Greahd was martyred in secret.


    ¡°Earlier, you asked who Adam was, and who Eve was. That¡¯s the wrong question,¡± the phantom Agrona said nonchalantly. ¡°You should ask what the fruit is, Arthur. Because it might just be out there somewhere, waiting for someone to take a bite.¡°


    Sylvie had trembled when she¡¯d told me about this. And as I pictured it in my mind¡¯s eye, I felt myself shake, too. Not just because it was terrifying, in its own way. But because I didn¡¯t know how much of it was real. How much was Agrona just playing a part? And how much of it was a true foreshadowing of what was to come?


    I realized then, with absolute certainty, that I needed to take this information to Seris. Not just the worries about Epheotus¡¯ plans for the end of this war, but also this changed event. Something had shifted in Agrona¡¯s modus operandi. I¡¯d always known that since the massacres had started. But this clue itched in the back of my mind, scratching at an intuition I didn¡¯t know I had. I couldn¡¯t do anything with this information, but the Scythe of Sehz-Clar might be able to.


    I clenched the phoenix wyrm pendant in my hand, preparing to imbue more mana into it. ¡°It seems I¡¯m in your debt, Lady Indrath,¡± I said, pushing myself shakily to my feet. I stared up into the rain, inspecting the thunderclouds. My hair clung to my skin, just like the dragon¡¯s. ¡°These things only seem to get more and more complicated, don¡¯t they?¡±


    Sylvie smiled slightly. It was a sad thing. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll tell me how you know so much about my bond and the future of this world?¡±


    I blinked water from my lashes, feeling melancholy in the storm. I actually considered her words. If anyone could manage that knowledge well, it would be this young dragon. ¡°If we had more time,¡± I said honestly, ¡°I might¡¯ve told you more, but anything I can say will only bring up more questions. I¡¯m sorry for being such a pain in the ass.¡±


    Sylvie chewed her lip as I slowly activated the phoenix wyrm pendant. Those scales of silver and pink rose over my exhausted body, encasing me in a cocoon. As it rose, however, blocking her from my sight, I said one more thing.


    ¡°When I see your bond again,¡± I said into the rain, ¡°I¡¯ll tell him everything I can.¡±


    ¡ª


    I floated limply through the Beast Glades, trying my best to keep my intent and mana signature low. My fingers clenched at every stray sound as I slowly followed the call of another¡¯s soul. Cylrit wasn¡¯t far away.


    Whatever Taci had done with his spear, it had broken Seris¡¯ cloaking artifact. No longer was my heartfire and mana cloaked from watching eyes. So as constant blade wing patrols soared overhead and scout teams tried to track me down, I had to cling to my mana signature jealously.


    Everything is moving so fast, I thought, leaning against a tree for a moment to catch my breath. I wish I¡¯d have time. Time to just¡­ process everything.


    I wanted to lay down and sleep for an age, but I couldn¡¯t afford it. With how close Cylrit was and how weak we both were, we couldn¡¯t afford a moment of hesitation.


    I stared up at the sky. It had stopped raining a few minutes ago, and I had no idea where we were right now. Once I got to Cylrit, we¡¯d have to navigate using the stars.


    ¡°Maybe fighting Taci wasn¡¯t a smart idea,¡± I grumbled, feeling¡­ alone.


    I leaned against that tree for a short time, using mana rotation to mask my presence. I hoped that Arthur would find some peace at the end of this. I hoped Sylvie would hold onto that ember of defiance she¡¯d cultivated. They were¡­ good people.


    I began to fly again. I would just keep putting one foot in front of the other. That¡¯s all I needed to do. I would never stop moving forward. I¡¯d never stop trying.


    But I froze in the sky as I sensed something in my mind. A small, burning ember that slowly kindled into something even more. More and more it rose, casting my entire soul in its warmth.


    My eyes watered as I exhaled weakly, a groan of sorrow leaving my throat. That nostalgic, steady heat rising from the depths nearly made the careful collage of my emotions break entirely right then and there.


    It had been barely more than a week, and I¡¯d almost forgotten how warm her thoughts were. Every single pulse of her soul reassured me that I wasn¡¯t alone in this world. That no matter what, there was someone there, with their hand on my shoulder.


    Aurora¡¯s shade slowly fuzzed into existence near me. Just as ever, she brought the Unseen with her, casting everything in muted mist and shade.


    My heart clenched, however, as I laid eyes on the phoenix¡¯s phantom body.


    Her once-pristine skin was covered in burns. So, so many burns. Her hands. Every place I could see a flicker of pure skin, a seared scar remained somewhere nearby. And as my eyes traced over those scars, I could follow them to a single point.


    The Brand of the Banished pulsed fiery light, leaking with Aurora¡¯s broken emotions. And as I recognized this, I remembered something else.


    For me, it had been over a week since the Breaking of Burim. If I wasn¡¯t careful, I¡¯d see the city melting whenever I closed my eyes. I¡¯d remember the sensation of my blade crashing against Chul¡¯s mace. I remembered thousands of heartfires evaporating.


    But since then, I¡¯d forced myself to act. To move and fight and talk and do anything but let myself dwell in that pit of misery. I¡¯d found a way to continue despite the devastation. I¡¯d found comfort in healing the broken. I¡¯d found a possibility of hope in Lusul¡¯s resolve. I¡¯d found strength in fighting Taci. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But Aurora¡­ She¡¯d been pulling her soul back together. She¡¯d been asleep, in a coma of despair and fire. She didn¡¯t know if either of her sons had survived the maelstrom of hell as we fought each other.


    Silence reigned between us as her horrified, pained eyes looked at me. The trauma was still raw. The pain and misery hadn¡¯t happened weeks ago. It had happened yesterday. And barely a few hours before, she¡¯d pulled together the courage to accept banishment from her Clan for the greater good. She risked eternal separation from her very family.


    Aurora¡¯s hands trembled, no longer poised like that of a martial master. They shook like a leaf in the wind as her wide, burning eyes absorbed the burns marring her features. Burns she¡¯d gained from protecting her son.


    The phoenix looked up at me, her eyes watering with fiery tears. Our bond was alight with quiet misery. With that very despair that I fought so often. She opened her mouth, trying to force herself to say something.


    I reached out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m here, Aurora,¡± I said quietly, the world forgotten. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±


    The ghost touched my hand tentatively, as if afraid it might burn. First the pads of her fingers. Then, when that didn¡¯t scald her soul, she let her palm rest over the top of mine. She allowed herself to touch my hand.


    Those tears of hers flowed freely as she watched the place where our hands remained locked. She struggled to believe that they didn¡¯t burn. And when she sobbed, I wrapped her in an embrace, holding her close to my heart and soul.


    The phoenix buried her forehead into the tattered remnants of my shirt, clinging to it as she shook and wept. I slammed my eyes shut, not allowing myself to cry.


    I was so, so used to being uplifted and warmed by Aurora¡¯s soul. Every touch and direction of her lit my way with sunlight. She was the dawn itself. She could never falter. She would always be there.


    But sometimes, I forgot that she was a person, too. She wasn¡¯t an impossible, perfect nova who continued to profess light and hope. Sometimes, her star dimmed. I¡¯d learned that they did that. When the world battered you with darkness, it was so easy to lose your light without anyone to help you carry the torch.


    For the time, I figured Cylrit could stand to sit where he was for a few more minutes. My mother needed me.

 Chapter 289: On What the Future Holds

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Aurora wept for a long time. Her fire-glint tears singed my already decimated robes, mixing with the blood as the embers were washed away. I held her close, staring off into the distance as I acted as the anchor I was.


    But as poignant as this moment was, it couldn¡¯t last. Not here in this forest, where danger still reigned. I gently pushed the shade away, massaging her shoulders as I looked her in her broken eyes. My hands trembled as I looked at those soul-scars.


    Burned, I thought angrily. Burned from trying to hold her son.


    ¡°I can¡¯t stay here, Aurora,¡± I said quietly, dreadfully aware of my surroundings. ¡°I know you need me, but it needs to wait until we¡¯re safe.¡±


    My bond¡¯s tired, broken eyes washed over me, noting my exhaustion and wounds. She opened her mouth to say something, but paused when I opened my mind.


    Aurora and I never shared memories. We shared everything else: thoughts, emotions, fears, desires, loves. But memories were always the sacred boundary that we never crossed. We¡¯d both experienced far, far too much to risk those.


    But after our banishment from the Hearth, I¡¯d realized something crucial. We were all we had. My illusions of family and belonging in that other place fell like dust through my grasping fingers, and all I had left was my bond. The woman who would never see the skies again.


    She alone joined me in my banishment. She alone took the steps she needed to, even as it pierced her very soul.


    As I moved through the forest, I allowed my memories of the past week or so to flicker across our bond in snippets. I showed her the aftermath of the Breaking. She saw Lusul playing his violin for his lover, then how I¡¯d discovered Nico and Cadell¡¯s presence on this continent.


    I didn¡¯t show her my full fight with Seris. I wouldn¡¯t show anyone else that. But from the slow trickle of my memories and emotions, I knew she could put together the pieces.


    I was already moving, slipping through the trees as I wove my way toward Cylrit. The forest was unnaturally quiet in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I waited for the snap of a branch or the whisper of a breath that might tell me Windsom was still watching, waiting to tear out my throat.


    My bond took solace in my memories as I moved closer to my destination. I could feel it over our tethered souls. Every moment she spent thinking about my fight with Taci and conversations with Rinia and Sylvie was a moment she wasn¡¯t overwhelmed with how alone and directionless she felt.


    I gritted my teeth as I brushed against those pained undertones. I understood them far, far too well.


    Keep your focus forward, Toren, I told myself. Always forward.


    When my bond finally processed all the memories I¡¯d sent her way, she remained silent. Her shade hovered at my side like a haunting ghost, her gaze distant as I flitted from tree to tree. She kept her emotions sheltered and shaded as she worked to process it all.


    ¡°You emerged victorious over an asura,¡± she said eventually, turning to look at me with her hollow eyes. I caught a glimmer of subdued pride there as she tried to create a mask of what should be. ¡°I am proud of you, my son.¡±


    My son. Those words flowed through my mind like cool spring water, soothing a terror I hadn¡¯t known had been festering.


    I¡¯d borne a nameless fear. A worry and terror so deep and great that I hadn¡¯t been able to grant it shape, so I¡¯d kept it formless and indistinct in my subconscious. But as Aurora said those words¡ªas she meant them¡ªI stuttered to a stop for a moment, pressing my hand against a nearby tree for support.


    She still calls me her son, I repeated to myself, uncaring that she could hear my thoughts. She still calls me her son.


    I hadn¡¯t realized until precisely this moment that I¡¯d dreaded how our relationship would change in the wake of the Breaking of Burim. Chul had arrived in a storm of fire and vengeance, tearing apart the one place I had left to return to. He¡¯d driven Inversion deep into Seris¡¯ heart, wounding her nearly beyond reconciliation. And when we¡¯d fought¡­ When we¡¯d fought, thousands had died.


    ¡°Toren,¡± Aurora said softly, drifting closer as she sensed my inner turmoil, ¡°even if we aren¡¯t¡­ Even if we aren¡¯t Asclepius anymore, you are still my son. That won¡¯t ever change.¡±


    I squeezed my eyes shut hard, inhaling and exhaling softly. I¡¯d lost so many points of stability in just a single week¡ªboth of us had¡ªthat the single acknowledgment that we were still there for each other gave me strength that I¡¯d been lacking for too long.


    Aurora wrapped me in an embrace as I took a few seconds to internalize it all. I hugged her back, my emotions swirling like an ink drop in a glass of clear water. My fingers clenched around her martial robes as I sagged into her warmth, finally able to be weak.


    The phoenix ran her fingers through my wet, bloodstained hair, taking just as much solace in the action. Just as my emotions unraveled, so too did hers. She doubted herself. She doubted every aspect of her identity.


    She was a fighter and a warrior. She was Asclepius. She was a mother. But every single one of those foundational realities had been slowly stripped away from her. This phoenix ghost was the pinnacle of martial prowess in her lifetime, always seeking perfection in the way of battle. Her fire had burnt strong as she sang to the tune of battle.


    But that had been taken from her. It was stripped by Agrona as she was lashed to a wall. And there, she was forced into a different kind of battle every single day as her will was tested. Her will to protect her Clan.


    And then she had been banished. The very people she¡¯d endured countless centuries of caged torture to protect could no longer be called her family. They were unwilling to protect themselves and risk their fear, so she sacrificed the very building blocks of their connection to do so.


    And when she¡¯d resolved herself to all of this, her two sons had nearly slain each other in a battle-induced blood fury. Warrior, Asclepius, Mother. They all felt so fragile.


    I buried my soaked head into Lady Dawn¡¯s shoulders, feeling like a young child again as I sought her warmth. Scarred and seared as her soul was, I still could almost imagine the rainwater entrenched in my clothes evaporating from her care.


    You never failed in being my mother, I thought tiredly, as much to myself as it was to her. You never did.


    I still relied on Lady Dawn so much. In a world that seemed to make it harder and harder for me to find my place of belonging, this phoenix accepted me with open arms, even when I hurt her and was wounded in turn.


    Finally, I pushed myself away, sniffling slightly. I worked my jaw, sensing where the absent threads of Aurora¡¯s thoughts had drifted to.


    ¡°When we return to Seris, I¡¯ll have a talk with her,¡± I said quietly, able to suppress the burning disdain I felt this time. ¡°We¡¯ll figure all of this out.¡±


    Aurora no doubt sensed the burning hatred and anger I¡¯d been keeping locked and caged away whenever I thought of her other son. Even as she absorbed my memories, she hadn¡¯t addressed or drawn attention to each flare of that pyre of pain and agony. Because as what I¡¯d seen and witnessed drifted across our bond, she¡¯d watched the devastation and death Chul had brought to Burim.


    She couldn¡¯t dismiss the depth of my hurt and pain. I couldn¡¯t wash away the misery and death toll of thousands of broken families.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk with Chul,¡± I said solemnly, feeling relieved by the hope in my bond¡¯s eyes. ¡°We can be okay.¡±


    ¡ª


    I found Cylrit amidst a few mana beast corpses, leaning on his massive sword. He looked utterly and completely exhausted, and more than a little annoyed. His prisoner¡¯s linens were soaked entirely to the bone with water, and he shivered slightly whenever the wind whistled like a haunting flute through the leaves.


    The image of him like this clashed so deeply with my regular perception that I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle aloud. While I imagined I looked like a drenched bird with feathers matted to my wings, all I could see in the poor Retainer was a loyal German Shepherd left out for too long in the rain. His dark hair clung to his scalp, and his shirt was torn in half a dozen places. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t look injured.


    The Retainer turned slightly, a deep frown on his face. His intent radiated weakly, professing his annoyance at being left alone for so long. ¡°You took your time to arrive, Spellsong,¡± he started, squinting through the darkness. ¡°If you were here when you had promised¡­¡±


    Then Cylrit took in my appearance. I was missing a boot from where Taci had cut off my foot, had a clear hole in my tunic where I¡¯d been pierced through the stomach and spine, and had half a dozen more burn marks. There was as much blood caking my once-dark clothing as there was water.


    The dark-haired, utterly loyal man immediately straightened, pulling his greatsword close as his eyes widened. ¡°The asura,¡± he said sharply, ¡°are they in pursuit?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, feeling a twitch of annoyance at the mention of Taci. ¡°They¡¯re not a problem right now.¡±


    I¡¯d failed to rescue Mawar from her imprisonment, though, which made me clench my teeth in regret. I could only hope that Sylvie would still be open to the exchange of my healing Virion Eralith for Melzri¡¯s Retainer.


    I pulled out Aurora¡¯s relic as I approached the Retainer, chancing a glance at the stars. Judging from the positions of the Basilisk¡¯s Tail and the Lightning Spell constellations, I¡¯d wager we were along the northern reaches of the Beast Glades, not too far from the Elshire Forest.


    ¡°They¡¯re not a problem?¡± Cylrit echoed, blinking water from his eyes. ¡°Did you lose them in pursuit?¡±


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    I sighed in exasperation. ¡°No. They were spared my blade, and I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I don¡¯t like losing my prey.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s blood-red eyes traced over me as if he were seeing me for the first time. His jaw slowly went slack. ¡°They were¡­ spared your blade? Your¡­ your prey?¡±


    ¡°The hypocritical bastards from Epheotus intervened before I could separate Taci¡¯s head from his shoulders,¡± I said with a grunt, laying out Aurora¡¯s relic. My bond quietly complied with my request, engaging her Vessel Form. It rose slowly beneath the cover of the canopy, stretching up to a majestic height.


    I gnashed my teeth as I locked eyes with Aurora¡¯s relic, a mutual sorrow passing through our bond.


    Because her Vessel Form was tarnished. Every plate of once-magnificent brass was torn through like molten slag as it bled dawnlight. The ridges of her bronze wings¡ªonce so beautiful and majestic in their sunlit glint¡ªdrooped from lingering heat. The machine¡¯s clicking whirr no longer sounded like the well-oiled shift of gears and perfect machinery working to an Unseen tune. Now, each beat and hum from within her bronze Vessel sounded like a watch clicking out of tune. Every pulse of my heartbeat elicited a stuttered stitch from the depths of the once-wonderful creation.


    The relic wasn¡¯t damaged any longer. Aurora and I both knew that. But the wounds on her soul cascaded outward in every form she could take.


    I stood transfixed in mute sorrow as I stared at the devastated relic. I remembered how Aurora had thanked me for letting her soar again, and I wondered if that paltry balm had been taken from her, too.


    A sturdy hand on my shoulder tore me from my reverie. I turned my head slowly, taking in Cylrit¡¯s disheveled, wide eyes. ¡°You fought an asura,¡± he said, his breath coming up short. ¡°It is¡­ impossible. But you do not lie. But neither can it be true.¡±


    I snorted in mirth at the Retainer¡¯s baffled expression. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve fought an asura in the past couple of weeks,¡± I said darkly, staring back at the relic as the plan for how we would return to Seris cemented in my head. My intent radiated in a subtle heat that I failed to restrain as I tried to contain the burgeoning hatred I kept locked away.


    A bead of sweat trailed down Cylrit¡¯s face as Aurora¡¯s large Vessel turned away from me in quiet shame and sadness. ¡°Chul Asclepius,¡± he said in a deathly whisper.


    I ground my teeth, shoving away images of the young phoenix¡¯s burning eyes as my bond with Aurora burned. ¡°We¡¯re going to need to be fast, Cylrit,¡± I said, trying to divert the topic. ¡°Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form can carry us as we recover our strength. Seris¡¯ current camp is midway along Darv¡¯s northern border just south of Carn, but there¡¯s a high chance we¡¯ll be intercepted or attacked on the way.¡±


    Cylrit was quiet for a moment as his head shifted from me to Aurora and back. He no doubt sensed the tension between us as the topic of her other son simmered in the air like a live wire.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± Cylrit said slowly, ignoring my attempt to change the subject, ¡°during my parlay with King Leywin, I had almost swayed Lady Dawn¡¯s son to our side when he intervened in the middle.¡± The Retainer nodded respectfully as Aurora¡¯s Vessel form oriented on him, her massive, shadowed bulk silently imploring. ¡°We were close to an agreement of peace where the warrior would speak with you and Master Seris. I told him of your bond, and how I had spoken with Lady Dawn. But we were betrayed.¡±


    Fires popped around the ground inadvertently as my magic slipped past my control. But I couldn¡¯t ignore the utter seriousness in Cylrit¡¯s intent as his hand clasped my shoulder. ¡°Did King Leywin double-cross you?¡± I asked, fearing the answer. If Arthur had truly fallen down the pit of Grey¡­


    Cylrit shook his head insistently. ¡°Seris needs to know, Toren. It is imperative. We were intercepted by a team of Wraiths.¡±


    My blood froze in my veins as the Retainer¡¯s words washed over me like a cloying graveyard mist. All the warmth I¡¯d managed to cobble together earlier was slowly torn from me like air being drawn from my lungs.


    Wraiths. Agrona¡¯s half-basilisk killing squads, named after an ancient asuran race. Each individual Wraith could match a Scythe in power, and together, they could kill gods. They were the pinnacle of Agrona¡¯s genetic manipulation and experimentation. Alacrya¡¯s specialized system of casters, strikers, sentries, shields all led to these squads of godslayers.


    And if they¡¯d been trailing Chul¡­


    That meant Agrona was aware of him, too.


    ¡°Did any survive?¡± I asked, my voice a cool whisper. An image of what must have occurred in that fateful meeting slowly filled the blank spots of my mind. I could see the ever-passionate and idiotic Chul, feeling betrayed by Cylrit and his promises, rushing off to Burim to reap his vengeance.


    Cylrit slowly shook his head. ¡°Godspell has grown powerful. He slew two of them himself with subtle assistance on my part. But there were only four present, not five.¡±


    Which means that another is still out there, I thought, gnashing my teeth. A loose end.


    It was too much to make sense of. Already, Windsom''s dismissal of me as a potential route to the Hearth made alarm bells fire like gunshots in my mind. When I¡¯d first arrived at the Hearth, Mordain had claimed he¡¯d scared the loathsome dragon away from tracking me. But had he truly succeeded in his objective?


    But now, the potential of Agrona¡¯s half-blood armies added another shadow onto an already darkening fire.


    No, I reasserted with gritted teeth. No. We have hope. It is not all dark.


    ¡°Chul is alive and contained,¡± I said, saying the last word like a curse. ¡°But it¡¯s clear that things are going to escalate. We need to get back to Seris to plan.¡±


    I shrugged off Cylrit¡¯s hand on my shoulder, withdrawing a communication artifact from my dimension ring. I exhaled a sigh, calming myself. One step forward after another. That was all I could do these days. The most important step I could take was the next one.


    Then I sent a single message to my distant Scythe.


    Part one complete. Failed to rescue Mawar. Cylrit is well. We¡¯re coming back.


    ¡ª


    We were silent as we flew above the clouds. Cylrit was resting. This was no doubt the first time he¡¯d had a good rest in ages considering how deeply he¡¯d fallen into slumber atop Aurora¡¯s back.


    Aurora¡¯s brass wings flapped, the sound like a stuttering thresher as she coasted along. We weren¡¯t far off from dawn, considering we¡¯d flown through the night these past few hours. I¡¯d used the stars as my guide, but they were distant and quiet now. The peaks of the Grand Mountains¡ªwhich we¡¯d crossed not long ago¡ªthrust like speartips through the clouds.


    The wind whipped at my hair as I focused on using mana rotation, recovering my strength slowly but surely. The mana that usually flowed from Aurora¡¯s feather was diverted to her relic, meaning it was taking far more time than usual to gather mana from the atmosphere. My core twinged with every movement.


    Aurora flapped her wings again, keeping us aloft as we neared the northern battlefront of the war. Our bond was slightly muted, and I knew why.


    Cylrit had just informed her that Agrona was aware of Chul. His half-asuran hit squad had already tried to kill him, and no doubt would again if given the chance. It was public knowledge that Scythe Seris had repelled the asura who had tried to kill her and break her position in Darv.


    I hadn¡¯t looked too deeply into it, but the rumors had spread amidst Burim and the Alacryans with fervor. With the assistance of Seris, I had felled a god and saw to their safety. Rumors abounded about what had happened to the attacker in the aftermath. Some said that I had killed him. Others said he had fled in fear of the Alacryans¡¯ will. Still others whispered that he had been captured and shipped back to the High Sovereign for experimentation.


    But I knew Chul was alive, and I knew Seris kept him imprisoned somewhere. After Lusul had played his song for his child and lover, he¡¯d told me of the aftermath of the fight, where he¡¯d worked to smuggle away Chul¡¯s bleeding body and see him contained.


    ¡°He can¡¯t stay there,¡± Aurora said, her voice melodic despite it all. ¡°Agrona can¡¯t have him.¡±


    I opened my eyes, allowing my gaze to coast across the ever-expansive clouds like a ship over turbulent waters. Every crest and puff of water vapor was a wave for some mighty vessel to coast over in a display of human triumph.


    ¡°I know,¡± I said quietly.


    I could never want that. Even the people I¡¯d despised the most in this life: the Joans, Wolfrum Redwater, even Mardeth¡­ I would never wish them to find their way to Taegrin Caelum¡¯s dungeons. It was a fate that nobody deserved.


    Aurora was silent for a beat longer. ¡°And you cannot return to Alacrya.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond for a while. The sun rose far in the east, casting her rays over the clouds like beams of hope.


    ¡°I know that, too.¡±


    I had grown too powerful and too quickly. With Agrona¡¯s focus so wholly on me, I couldn¡¯t risk capture or experimentation. Even the protection of Scythe Seris only went so far. When I was regularly holding my own against asura¡ªeven weaker ones like Taci and Chul¡ªI became something above even a Scythe¡¯s paygrade.


    When this war ended and Seris returned to her dominion, I couldn¡¯t follow. Not until I was so powerful that my very presence acted as a deterrent to the threat of Wraiths and Sovereigns alike.


    I shifted slightly, turning back to observe the sun as it rose over the horizon with a tired look. ¡°I¡¯m close to Integration,¡± I said musingly. ¡°I can feel it in my core and in my body. And once I reach that next plateau, I suppose that Seris will try and prop me up as a symbol for her rebellion.¡±


    By using mana rotation and the nigh-endless flow of Aurora¡¯s mana through her feather, my core was accelerating towards that peak like a long-distance runner breaking a record. I¡¯d only been in this world for a year and a half, and already I was close to the pinnacle.


    It felt possible. If I could reach that peak of magic¡ªwhere my entire body became my core and my magical potential became truly boundless¡ªI imagined that I could truly be a threat to my enemies.


    But until then, I couldn¡¯t afford to put myself within Agrona¡¯s clutches. And neither could Chul.


    Was this what Arthur felt? I wondered, admiring the familiar glittering orange-purple light of dawn as it refracted through the clouds. When he had first formed his aether core and couldn¡¯t afford to return to his loved ones for fear of his weakness, did he feel this tired understanding in his core?


    But if I couldn¡¯t return to Alacrya, where could I go? I was banished from the Hearth, and Epheotus would gladly mount my head on a pedestal and pass it around as a sign of victory.


    I closed my eyes, bathing in the warmth of the dawn. I sighed at the comfortable embrace of that far-distant star. Always, it seems there is no true place for us, I thought to Aurora. But that just means we¡¯ll have to make one, doesn¡¯t it?


    My bond didn¡¯t respond except for a single, weary sigh of both relief and exhaustion. ¡°You have grown strong, my young chick,¡± she said into the wind as she coasted on currents towards the west. ¡°I wish¡­ I wish for your confidence.¡±


    ¡°Seris told me that I¡¯m a foolish, idiotic idealist,¡± I mused. ¡°She was right. But I am what I am because of¨C¡±


    My words cut off as something brushed against my senses. My hands clenched as the ambient mana fed me information. A split second later, Aurora sensed it too.


    Many, many miles below, war was being waged. I couldn¡¯t sense anything distinct, but the sheer scale of the many mages hurling their spells and fighting on a dozen small fronts was detectable even this high in the stratosphere.


    We¡¯d reached the northern front near Blackbend City, only a couple hundred miles from Seris¡¯ camp around Carn. And as I sensed another dozen mana signatures quickly ascending through the sky toward our position, Aurora and I both realized we had a problem.


    I looked inward, checking on my strained core. I was at about fifteen percent capacity, and in no shape for straight combat.


    I clenched and unclenched my fists, sparing a look at Cylrit. He was even weaker than I was right now, and he wouldn¡¯t be able to defend himself effectively.


    A dozen thoughts passed between Aurora and me as the Dicathian mages and their beast bonds rose to meet us, but it didn¡¯t take us long to settle on one.


    The metallic phoenix dipped low, allowing the thick clouds to obscure us. Cylrit jerked awake from the sudden mist as it soaked him again. He blinked, looking blearily at me through eyes that desperately needed sleep and rest.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± he muttered, ¡°are we at our destination yet?¡±


    I rolled my shoulders as I slowly stood, balancing perfectly on Aurora¡¯s back despite the rise and fall of her body. ¡°No,¡± I said seriously, flexing my heart. With a painful beat, Sonar Pulse radiated out in invisible weaves of sound magic, feeding me a three-dimensional image of what was coming. ¡°We¡¯re being ambushed by blade wing riders. Aurora is going to keep you in the clouds and perform evasive maneuvers while I draw their attention.¡±


    The one thing that the Dicathians had over we Alacryans in war was air superiority. With their flying bonds, they had avenues of reconnaissance and attack that Alacrya lacked. That was something I¡¯d failed to consider on my return to Seris.


    ¡°You will not fight alone. I will assist,¡± the stalwart Retainer said. Cylrit tried to struggle to his feet, but he fell back with a groan.


    I spared a glance back at the dark-haired man as the water vapor swirled around me, brushing off my telekinetic shroud. ¡°Get some rest, Cylrit,¡± I said seriously. ¡°Seris is waiting for us both to return in one piece.¡±


    I loped to the edge of Aurora¡¯s wing, internally counting down the seconds as I waited for the mages to inch closer. They¡¯d fanned out slightly as Aurora dipped into the clouds, no doubt expecting some sort of ambush or attempt at escape.


    I tasted their intent, honed and deadly. These were elites. They knew the sky. Not as well as I, of course, but my recent fight with Taci Thyestes had proven something crucial to my arrogant mind.


    Predators could just as easily become prey from overconfidence. I might be a master of the sky, but that didn¡¯t mean I alone ruled these winds.


    With that final acknowledgment of the danger, I fell forward, diving through the mists.


    sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 290: Anchor

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    As the world rushed by me, I pulled my mana signature inward and measured my heartbeat. I doubted these mages had spotted us by our mana signatures in the first place, considering a massive metal bird in the sky was the sort of thing that garnered attention. But that meant that my upcoming attack wouldn¡¯t be detected.


    My breathing was calm and steady as I slowly picked up speed, the earth¡¯s gravity pulling me lower and lower in her tyrannical clutches.


    The terminal velocity of a person falling through the air averaged out to around one hundred and twenty miles per hour. If one made themselves more aerodynamic, then one might reach two hundred miles per hour as the wind whistled past their ears.


    But as I used an application of sound magic to strip the wind resistance from my body, I felt myself begin to accelerate even faster by the second. Five seconds¡­ Ten¡­


    I sensed that the twelve riders had halted in a specific formation right below the clouds, fanning out in a maneuver that would have boxed Aurora and Cylrit in perfectly as they ascended. Furthermore, I got the vague impression they were¡­ aiming something at the clouds from Sonar Pulse.


    One silver core mage, the rest yellow core, I thought. This won¡¯t be as simple as I first expected. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But that wouldn¡¯t stop me. I thrust from the clouds like a bullet, trailing streams of mist as my eyes flashed. I immediately focused on the silver-core mage¡ªa burly woman with short blonde hair and intent that radiated ferocity. Her bond¡ªwhich looked like some sort of cross between a bird and a bat with long, razor-sharp wings¡ªscreeched as it tried to pull back.


    She saw me too late as I emerged from the clouds like a reaper of souls. She swung her staff, a fifteen-foot tall tornado gyre of wind surging towards me in an attempt to intercept.


    A wind mage, I thought, my focus narrowing. Then she¡¯s more likely to survive what¡¯s coming.


    I shifted to the side, letting the tornado roar past me. This slowed my momentum, unfortunately, giving the other mages time to adjust on their massive avian mana beasts to face me. I saw the silver core wind mage aiming her staff again, half a hundred wind blades solidifying around her body and bond.


    Her mistake. I engaged my regalia, reaching out with my mind as I pulled on her bond¡¯s wings. The simple task of aiming suddenly became hellish as her beast lost control of its flight.


    Her spells fired prematurely as she yelled in surprise and dismay, but I was already in front of her. The nameless rider¡¯s brown eyes contracted into horrified pinpricks as I levered a shrouded dagger.


    I didn¡¯t slit her throat, but I could have. Instead, my blade parted the tether anchoring her to her bond¡¯s saddle, searing through the leather like a scalpel through flesh.


    And then I was past her and the attempted encirclement, falling again. I lashed out with my regalia once more, pulling on the rider as I passed by. I sensed with Sonar Pulse as she was ripped from the safety of her spiraling bond¡¯s back, screaming in terror.


    I swiveled in the air, allowing myself to fall back-first. Extremely mindful of my mana reserves, I considered my options as my long, golden-red hair flared around me like an inverted curtain.


    The wind mage was struggling to reorient herself in the sky using bursts of magic, and I could tell that she¡¯d eventually succeed. Though her intent was rife with fear, I could sense the underlying grit as she tried to adjust her fall.


    Her bond, too, was wobbling in the sky as it screeched. Its eyes darted everywhere, but I could tell that it was focused on its falling rider.


    It¡¯s going to try and save her, I thought, my eyes flitting to the rest of the surprised mages on their bonds. I can expect the others to try as well.


    I exhaled as I watched the other riders reorient on me, maneuvering their bonds into position for a dive. Mana gathered around them as they prepared attacks to snipe me out of the sky.


    I wanted to remain nonlethal in this confrontation. But my reserves were a ticking timer as they depleted, I knew I couldn¡¯t take any chances if I wanted to get Cylrit home safely. My resolve solidified.


    I am sorry to both of you, both rider and beasts, I solemnly vowed within my mind. I wish it were otherwise.


    Spells were already beginning to hurtle down towards me. Most of them were wind spells, like bullets and blades. There were a few water spells, too, conjured from the pervading clouds high above as a source. Some fireballs and wisps of heat trailed smoke, too, seeking to scorch me to cinders.


    Thinking quickly, I reached out with my regalia once more, pulling on the falling silver core mage as she just managed to adjust herself. She rocketed towards me with a yell, hauled by a few telekinetic pulls. I could sense the panic of her comrades high above as she surged closer and closer to me.


    When she reached me, however, I twisted in the sky, maneuvering so that my feet were planted over her sternum as I faced the clouds. Those spells were all about ready to envelop me in a pincer attack and destroy me completely and utterly. Wind, ice, fire, and water all sought my demise.


    I bent my knees, building up power as I used the still-falling mage beneath me as a foothold.


    Then I released a mindfire stamp, blurring upward as I conjured shrouded wings about myself. She was engulfed in an eruption of fire and force as she shot downward in a smoking trail, and I knew not if she still lived.


    I threaded the needle of the volley of spells by the skin of my teeth, tearing through the sky as my crystalline shroud flared. Half a dozen feathers of solid energy separated from my wings as I rose, darting off after the scattering mages and their beast bonds. Each of them hummed with contained fire and vibrating sound as they streaked for their targets.


    Three found their mark. One man tried to direct his beast to dodge and spin out of the way, but couldn¡¯t react when the feather abruptly shifted in the sky, performing a hairpin turn and sinking into the soft flesh beneath his bond¡¯s armored plates. Another hastily tried to conjure a panel of ice, but too late for any sort of impact. The feather dove into his chest as it ignored his mana barrier, sinking deep as he coughed blood. And the other caught the rider entirely unaware in the flank, the glint of the morning sun blinding him from the attack.


    I clenched my fist, and all six feathers detonated.


    The three unlucky mages who had felt the tear of my shrouded feathers didn¡¯t even have the chance to scream. Waves of fire and light blocked out the light of the rising sun as the sound tore through the sky.


    The other three of my feathers exploded midair, tearing apart a few errant spells that were rushing towards me. The oscillating vibrations of sound magic tore at the balance of the other flying beasts, making them stutter and fall with terrified screeches.


    I rose higher into the sky, gnashing my teeth as my heart clenched painfully. When I reached the apex of my arc, hovering above the rest of the disoriented riders, I thrust my wings out. They sparkled with reflected light as I slammed my intent into the ambient mana.


    ¡°Hear me, Dicathians!¡± I boomed, projecting my fury and anger into the air itself. ¡°I am Spellsong, the White Flame of Fiachra!¡± I conjured a shrouded saber in my hands as the rest of the riders struggled to maintain their altitude under the weight of my intent. Sweat ran down my temple as I turned up my chin, floating like an angel of death. I stared down at the fools who tried to match me in the skies. ¡°I give you a choice only this once: flee or die.¡±


    Where at first there had been twelve riders, now there were only eight. In a simple exchange, I¡¯d deprived this squad of a third of their numbers, including their most powerful mage. It was clear they were outmatched.


    The best-case scenario was that I wouldn¡¯t have to fight at all. Aurora flew within the clouds above, sheltered and hidden from these mages as she kept her distance.


    I locked eyes with the man at the forefront of the aerial squad¡ªa paunchy man with scars across his brow and a bald head¡ªdaring him with every inch of my intent. Though my reserves were low, there was no outcome where these soldiers fought me and lived.


    The riders managed to pull their scattered numbers into a loose formation across from me, every one of them stinking of fear. I could taste the grief of many as they stared down in horror as the charred remains of their comrades continued to fall, becoming more and more indistinct as they fell toward the far-distant river forks below.


    The mage at the front spoke up hesitantly, clearly doubting his words even as he said them. ¡°We know of you, Spellsong,¡± he said, sweat beading on his brow as he fought under the waves of my power. ¡°You have taken a high-profile prisoner from the heart of the castle. We cannot allow you to escape.¡±


    My expression darkened as I registered this man¡¯s words. So these men were ready to die trying to retrieve Cylrit? I should have expected the news to travel quickly of my flight from the castle.


    I held my arms out to the side. Feathers separated from my shrouded wings, before elongating into massive lances. A dozen of them poised themselves around me in the sky under my command, fire flickering and sparking along their edges. My core clenched as I cycled more power in from the ambient mana.


    The wind whistled past my ear, pulling at my hair. ¡°You¡¯ve made your choice,¡± I said solemnly, ready to fire my volley at these poor fools. ¡°You should have fled.¡±


    Then a spear impaled one of the flying beasts near the back. The blade wing screeched, blood trailing from a bloody wound in its chest as it desperately tried to ascend on wobbly wings. Scarlet droplets fell like rain.


    My hands lowered slightly as I watched the blade wing and its rider struggle, a mute numbness spreading through my mind.


    Because the spear that erupted from the creature¡¯s chest wasn¡¯t one of mine. No, it was of a dark, oily metal. Blood iron glinted dully in the morning dawn.


    Another power was rising from far below, their intent furious and angry. Every pulse of their heartbeat pressed their unnatural rage into the sky. They were cloaked in a shroud of dark soulfire that ate away at everything that neared it.


    The riders were trying to turn, trying to adjust to this new threat. But as a barrage of bloodiron spikes punched through wings, chests, and skulls in a hailstorm of hell, I knew it was too late.


    I never had to fire another spell.


    Scythe Nico Sever slammed into the disoriented blade wing riders like a comet of dark fury. Whenever the reincarnate swung his hands, hellfire trailed like a storm. Every clench of his fists made spikes of dark metal erupt from the shadows like spines from angry flesh.


    I pulled my mana back into myself, dismissing the spears I¡¯d conjured as I numbly watched the slaughter. That¡¯s what it was, after all. Nothing the terrified Dicathians threw at Nico did anything. Their spells were subsumed by his Vritra-tainted fires, then hurled back at them.


    Man and beast alike fell from the sky in pieces. Through it all, Nico¡¯s intent raged.


    Flittering motes of black fire lingered in the sky, drifting on the scent of blood. The Scythe of the Central Dominion stared at the last blade wing rider as they fell to a pointless death, his mouth curved downward in a sneer.


    And his intent¡­ It was like a caged beast. Every pulse of his heart showed more undertones of his lingering hatred. Black flames danced around his hands.


    Then he turned in the sky, staring back at me. His eyes were hard and just as furious as his intent. Bags drooped under his eyes, indicating his utter lack of sleep. His dark hair was rough and unkempt, clinging to a head with skin that looked too pale. He heaved for breath, and I could not tell if the slaughter had sated the emptiness I felt yawning somewhere deep in his soul.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± he said, his words harsh, ¡°we need to go to the ground.¡±


    I measured my next words as I considered my options. Killing Nico here wasn¡¯t remotely on the table, even if I were at full strength. But that meant I couldn¡¯t afford to start a fight. ¡°Scythe Nico,¡± I said, feigning respect. ¡°I¡¯m currently on a mission for Scythe Seris. I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t afford to¨C¡±


    Nico scoffed, interrupting my words. ¡°Seris has a message for you,¡± he said with an irritated frown. ¡°And I have questions that need to be answered.¡±


    Seris has a message for me?


    If Seris wanted to send me information, she¡¯d simply contact me with my communication artifact. Unless¡­


    ¡°Your nest-mate promised you a chance to put down this Anchor,¡± Aurora thought to me from high above. ¡°She was given command of Nico¡¯s position. If she wants to subtly give you information in regards to this¡­¡±


    It would be like Seris, to have the victim of assassination deliver information about their demise. I couldn¡¯t sense any deception from within Nico¡¯s intent, either.


    ¡°We¡¯ll follow you, Scythe Nico,¡± I said after a moment, coming to a decision. I could sense the reincarnate¡¯s frayed patience. ¡°Where is your camp?¡±


    Nico waved a dismissive hand. ¡°We¡¯re at the westward bend. If we stay in the sky any longer, they¡¯ll send more of those blade wing riders to intercept us. So let¡¯s move.¡±


    The Scythe began to drop, his intent utterly dismissive and hyper-focused. After a beat of hesitation, I allowed myself to follow.


    Aurora¡¯s Vessel Form descended from the clouds next, Cylrit in tow. Nico showed no surprise at the massive construct of bronze as it hovered close to me.


    This could be a trap of some sort, I thought to my bond. I¡¯m weak and exhausted right now. If Agrona wanted to pull some sort of double cross, now would be the perfect time.


    The phoenix was silent for a few seconds as she processed the proposition. ¡°Perhaps,¡± she said slowly. ¡°But we both know it is unlikely. It is more probable that this is some sort of plot from Seris.¡±


    As we descended towards the ground, I focused on the Scythe in front of me. As I stared at his open back, I found no little temptation seeping through my mind.


    I was a silent killer; the stalker of the skies. If I wanted to, I could just¡­ slit his throat. One quick slice and a flash of heartfire, and he¡¯d be unable to heal. It would all be over.


    Nico¡¯s emotions were easy to sense. He projected a constant haze of anger and irritation into the sky that followed him like a raincloud, but it wasn¡¯t natural. I could almost taste how each of his thoughts were pulled and molded by the spells laden deep in his core.


    He wasn¡¯t allowed to feel anything other than anger. He wasn¡¯t given the chance to be anything more than a rabid dog.


    That understanding dampened the temptation gripping my blood. Seris had promised me an opportunity to kill this man and prevent the descent of the Legacy. I would trust her to follow through.


    My melancholic eyes traced across the approaching ground, scanning the massive battlefront. At this northeastern corner of Darv, the Sehz River traveled along the northern border before cutting southward, bordering the Grand Mountains. At that southward bend, two powerful tributaries emptied themselves into the southward Sehz.


    I could see Alacryan fortifications all along the Darvish front. Steamboats loitered on the banks and platoons of mages darted about between tents, likely preparing for an assault. Every now and then, spells would hurtle from the Dicathian sides of the river, before being intercepted by panels of mana conjured by Shields. Alacryans would return fire with uncountable volleys of spells, but they never found purchase. Because¡­


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    My eyes squinted as I noticed an anomaly on the Dicathian side of the river forks. Every stretch of land was heavily, heavily forested, far more than what seemed natural. And something was leaking and seeping through the leaves.


    ¡°Mist?¡± I muttered aloud, confused.


    Nico evidently heard me. Dark fires sputtered around his clenched fists. ¡°Tessia has been conjuring those damned trees at every junction, making progress across the river impossible,¡± he said. ¡°The sentries are working on a system to pierce through it, but it¡¯s taking too much time.¡±


    I was grateful for the time I¡¯d spent learning to hide my expressions and emotions, because Nico¡¯s words hit me like a truck. Tessia was here? Across that river? And Nico was here. He was so close to her, so close to capturing her.


    I knew that Seris had direct authority over Nico. She¡¯d told me as much, and also promised me a shot to kill this Anchor. Her plots and schemes wove through the battlefields like snakes through the grass. The fact that the reincarnate was stationed directly across from Tessia didn¡¯t feel like a coincidence.


    And that meant it couldn¡¯t be.


    ¡°Was Lance Silverthorn here when Seris assigned you to this front?¡± I asked, trying to get my thoughts in order. The dying thresher of Aurora¡¯s wings made my nerves tingle slightly in anticipation as the ground grew closer and closer.


    Nico clicked his tongue. ¡°No, but it¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re here.¡± He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and his bloodshot eyes burrowed into mine. ¡°Tessia is bound to Grey by that fucking Lance artifact. Grey thinks he can get away with taunting me with her on that border, so close but yet so far.¡±


    The Scythe said the words with such vitriol that it almost burned me. ¡°Agrona needs Tessia for his plans, but with those tethers connecting them, it¡¯s become hellishly difficult. Like a cockroach, he keeps crawling his way into places he doesn¡¯t belong.¡±


    I exhaled a deep breath. Arthur appointed Tessia here after Nico was placed on the northern front? Is he insane? He¡¯s directly risking the Legacy being reincarnated!


    I was missing something. Arthur¡ªking or not¡ªwouldn¡¯t do something so stupid. As we neared the ground, I considered what this new development meant. Arthur couldn¡¯t be betting on the Lance tethers to protect Tessia from Agrona. That was foolish.


    When we finally touched down on the southern end of the Darvish bank, I exhaled a weary sigh that contained every ounce of my questions. The sand sank beneath my weight, accepting me gratefully as the water lapped up in steady waves.


    The Sehz was easily a mile wide at this bank, and the Dicathians had successfully boarded and blockaded the river from Alacryan crossing. Though the steamships not far away from us churned with waiting mages and the sounds of soldiers readying for combat, I couldn¡¯t tear my gaze away from the far banks.


    The mist swirled and eddied, thrusting tendrils out across the water. That illusory vapor no doubt hid the enemy soldiers from detection, sight, and retribution. With how that magic coasted over every inch of the crossing, it made sense how the Triunion had managed to hold it against the spearpoint of our advance into Sapin.


    Aurora touched down a bare moment later, her metal form creaking like a leaking steamer. Her thoughts were muted and contemplative as she lowered her head, allowing me to lift the nigh-comatose Cylrit from her neck. I held him as carefully as I could.


    Nico¡¯s attention¡ªwhich had been so stalwartly and angrily focused on the far bank¡ªshifted to the relic with a mote of hidden interest. His eyes traced over the ruined plates of soulmetal, something analytical noting ever edge and curve.


    And I could feel it, deep within his core. The boy-Scythe wanted to ask questions. He wanted to inspect the massive automaton. A part of him desired to know how it worked, the engineer within intrigued and amazed by its existence.


    But before the curiosity had a chance to take hold, something else rose instead. Like a great, smothering blanket, that same force that stretched his anger and fury rose with the subtlety of a venomous serpent in the grass.


    I could sense in painfully real time as the spells Agrona had laid in Nico¡¯s core sank their venom into his curiosity. That poison sifted low and deep into the near-bright emotion, slowly killing and tearing it apart. And instead of that insight into the world, it was replaced with wrathful hatred.


    My earlier disdain and questions were overwhelmed for a moment as I stared at Nico, feeling an overwhelming sense of pity from deep within my mana core.


    Nico didn¡¯t notice my expression. As Agrona¡¯s spell injected more wrath into his veins, he¡¯d turned to glare once again across the far bank. Towards Tessia. Towards his goal.


    ¡°This is what Agrona does to people,¡± Lady Dawn whispered over our mental link. ¡°This is what he does. He makes puppets of people, pulling them to his strings.¡±


    I held the limp Cylrit in my arms as Aurora¡¯s relic slowly phased away, shrinking back into its brooch form. As that bronze feather drifted towards me, I closed my eyes.


    Everyone in this world is a victim of that wrathful serpent, I thought with a mote of resigned sorrow. Even Nico. Even him.


    ¡°You told me that Seris had a message for me,¡± I said, breaking the silent reverie. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Nico tore his gaze away from the far bank, looking at me with eyes fueled by dark fire. ¡°I¡¯m going to capture that elf,¡± he vowed, his aura churning around him. ¡°And Grey thinks his little princess is safe because of those tethers. But she¡¯s not. Because Seris told me that you could fix this problem, just like you did with Olfred.¡±


    And then it began to sink into place, what Seris had planned.


    I took a measured breath, hyper aware of Cylrit¡¯s weak body in my arms. ¡°I¡¯ll have to talk personally with Seris about this,¡± I said, turning towards the camp a bit to the south. ¡°But Cylrit and I need rest before we do anything.¡±


    That much became clear once the Dicathians tried to intercept our flight. We¡¯d be harried nearly every inch of the way if we tried to fly now, and Cylrit was painfully unconscious. We needed time to recover our strength before returning to Seris, and I wouldn¡¯t continue with anything without her full input.


    Instead, I felt a cold, clammy hand clutching my shoulder. ¡°No,¡± Nico demanded, his voice like caustic acid. ¡°You¡¯re going to act as I command. We¡¯re going to go across that river, and you¡¯re going to break that tether.¡±


    I turned, suppressing my anger as I met Nico¡¯s demanding stare. Then I allowed my aura to unfurl, my patience worn thin.


    Tired as I was, my intent wasn¡¯t the cloying aura of a baleful sun. But still, the ambient mana reacted immediately to my intent. The weight of an angry star settled onto the reincarnate that had gripped my arm.


    Nico¡¯s face didn¡¯t have color to drain from it, but his pupils still contracted into tiny pinpricks as my intent slammed into him. He stumbled backward, withdrawing his hand as spikes of metal thrust from the ground around him in automatic defense.


    ¡°Do you know what I have been doing these past couple of hours?¡± I asked, no little irritation lacing my voice as I struggled to keep my emotions under control.


    The anxiety that had been electrifying every heartbeat and pulse of my thoughts since my mission to rescue Cylrit had erupted during my fight with Taci. But after that I¡¯d been exhausted, tired, and pissed that my prey had gotten away. I wanted nothing more than a nice cup of coffee and a long nap.


    Nico opened his mouth to retort, but I cut him off. ¡°Look. I¡¯m exhausted and not far past backlash, Scythe Nico. And if you want me to free Tessia from that tether, then you need me to be at my full strength, because if I¡¯m not at my best, then King Arthur can just activate the artifact restrictions anyway.¡±


    Something about the similarities between Nico and my situation caused the agitation I¡¯d been suppressing to overload. I wanted so much to just kill him and be done with it. If I did so, then so much suffering and death would be averted. So much more despair could be prevented. The Legacy wouldn¡¯t descend.


    I snapped my head to look in the far distance, observing the mist. If I tried, I was certain I¡¯d be able to pierce the veil all the way to Tessia deep within. ¡°You haven¡¯t been subtle with your secrets. Your vendetta against Grey¡ªArthur, whatever the fuck you want to call him¡ªwill come to an end. But you need to be patient, because any wrong move can screw it all up. Your goal is standing right in front of you, but that just means you can¡¯t act rashly.¡±


    Nico¡¯s expression darkened as I pulled back my intent. I could see the gears churning behind his eyes as he considered my words. For the first time, he took in my utterly devastated appearance, then the Retainer limp in my arms.


    A silence stretched over us like thick sap as I restrained my anger. This war had stretched me so thin. Every single push and pull made me feel like taffy that was being drawn closer and closer to the breaking point.


    And Nico¡¯s throat was so close. One swipe with a heartfire blade¡­


    Aurora¡¯s thoughts along my own helped me settle slightly. I needed to remain calm.


    Nico finally scoffed, then marched forward, clipping my shoulder as he stalked towards the camps. ¡°Fine. Follow me. We¡¯ll see you rested.¡±


    ¡ª


    Nico led me to a nondescript, out-of-the-way tent on the edges of our encampments, out of sight of the rest of the soldiers. Within, a simple cot rested near the center. A few tables held documents and books depicting old fairy tales from Alacrya.


    The Scythe had stomped away in an irritated huff without giving me even another word, leaving me alone with Cylrit and Aurora.


    The sound of distant battle and the intent and heartfire of dying men were a constant presence as I laid the Retainer out on the bed. Then I nearly collapsed as the events of the past few hours weighed back in on my shoulders.


    With a tired hand, I withdrew a communication artifact from my dimension ring. A few subtle pulses sent another message to Seris.


    Sorry to keep you waiting. At the Triple Fork, resting with Cylrit. Nico and Silverthorn both present.


    Will be back soon.


    I exhaled as I stowed the communication artifact back in my dimension ring, listening to the sound of my own breathing.


    In, and out. In, and out. Slowly, I lowered myself to the soft grass, feeling how each individual blade bent beneath my weight. I adopted a lotus position, resting my hands on my knees. Across from me, Aurora had mirrored me, both of us enveloped in a mutual understanding.


    ¡°Our goal is near,¡± the phoenix said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s just within our grasp, my bond.¡±


    I closed my eyes, breathing in the mana in the air. The ambient fire mana rushed through my mana veins like magma through a lavaduct, the energy eager to follow the command of a white core mage. The power trickled down my conduits, before being welcomed by my greedy core.


    I felt the aches and pains of my body lessen slightly as I drew in power like a generator. The rhythm of my heart was slow and measured in my chest.


    When I first came to this world, I made a bargain with you, I thought, the oath-chains on my arm tingling with the memory. I would stop the descent of the Legacy, and you¡¯d grant me power.


    I exhaled steam, immersed in the nexus of power that was my white core. Aurora had granted me power. She¡¯d more than fulfilled her end of her vow. And soon¡­


    ¡°When I first took your oath, I called you Contractor,¡± my bond said quietly. ¡°I did not think we would live to see our goals successful. I did not expect you to succeed.¡±


    A mirthful smile stretched over my face as I recalled the first time I¡¯d recognized this truth. When I first made my vow, I was so angry, I thought sadly. I was so embroiled in fury at Norgan¡¯s death that I was willing to condemn to death a man I¡¯d never met. I swore a vow on my soul to end someone who had committed no sin, purely based on the awful circumstances of their rebirth.


    My bond¡¯s thoughts slowly joined mine in their solemnity. ¡°You were young then, my son. You were naive.¡±


    Am I not still?


    Aurora took a long time to respond. Long enough that I opened my eyes, observing her as something bittersweet seeped its way across our mental tether. Each emotion was tender in their poignancy, each pulse of her soul pained and wonderful.


    Tears were falling from the phoenix¡¯s eyes, each brimming with painful pride.


    ¡°You may yet be young, my son,¡± she said through a smile strong and brittle all at once. ¡°But I have never seen someone grow into who they wish to be with such fervor. When we first made our contract, you only knew vengeance and a strange, naive hope for those whom you called your fellows. And now, you stand ready to make your own hearth in this world. We have lost so, so much¡­ But you have gained just as much.¡±


    Once upon a time, Aurora had lamented to me of my growth. I moved so quickly, felt so much. She¡¯d found something wonderful in our bond and in being my mother, but it felt like it was falling through her feathers as I grew into my own person.


    She felt the bittersweet emotion of watching a chick leave the nest.


    I swallowed back the emotion in my chest, tears blurring the edges of my vision as my meditation was disrupted. I still feel just as foolish as the first time I earned your King¡¯s Force, I said after a moment. I still need you so, so much, Aurora. I still make so many mistakes. I fall so much, and I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know how I can pick myself up without you.


    The phoenix shade chuckled lightly, shuffling forward. She wrapped me in a simple embrace, pressing her forehead to mine in a caring, motherly way as the world around me fell away.


    Silence lingered between us for an indeterminate time as I let my emotions flow, acknowledging each and letting them go. Fear, passion, courage, hope¡­ Each and every one, I knew intimately. Memories of all the other times I¡¯d experienced these emotions flickered through my mindscape as I let myself feel.


    When a dark aura approached at an irritated pace, it didn¡¯t feel like an interruption. The angry storm of emotions and distant sounds of battle were just another part of our emotions.


    But as Nico approached the edge of the tent, I allowed myself to look just a bit deeper. I drank in the dark power of his intent and let his desires coast along the surface of my thoughts like a ship.


    The Scythe marched into our tent without a single care, each footfall a stomp as the spells inlaid deep in his core twisted and pulled on his emotions.


    ¡°Did Seris tell you anything yet?¡± the boy-Scythe demanded, his aura flaring as it slammed into me. ¡°She will assign you here. Tess won¡¯t be on that other bank forever. My only chance is slipping through my fingers!¡±


    I opened my eyes, gazing up at the disheveled, dark-haired boy. And I really, truly inspected him.


    There were dark, dark bags under his eyes that absorbed all the color in his face. His pupils seemed to be forced into a constant state of pinprick contraction as his mana fluctuated around him.


    Here was another reincarnate. Alongside Arthur, he was the only otherworld being who belonged.


    When I¡¯d fought with Arthur and my resolve had wavered, I¡¯d recognized that the Lance might be one of the only people who could understand me. After all, he was from Earth too, right? He knew of skyscrapers, coffee, and computers. The auburn-haired mage should¡¯ve been able to recognize everything that I¡¯d lost.


    But that wasn¡¯t true, was it? For all that Arthur was of some future, alternate Earth, he had been a warrior King. He was a man who had reached the highest of heights of the human body and mind, honing his political acumen and martial skills.


    Grey might understand on some level, perhaps. But not on the most personal.


    Something in my solemn gaze made the Scythe pause. His emotions¡ªleashed like a slave to Agrona¡¯s will¡ªjumped with slight fear. ¡°What is that look on your face, Spellsong?¡± he snapped, narrowing his eyes as he sensed some sort of threat, like a cornered animal. ¡°You¡¯re judging me, aren¡¯t you? Just like all the others.¡±


    I slowly shook my head. ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± I said honestly. ¡°But I want to ask you a question.¡±


    Nico scoffed. ¡°The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is¨C¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯re done with all of this, what are you going to do?¡± Nico¡¯s brow furrowed in anger at my interruption, but I ignored it. ¡°When you¡¯ve captured Lance Silverthorn, beaten Grey, and won this war, what do you want to do with your life?¡±


    I imbued my words with every ounce of honesty I could muster from my soul. I leveraged every inkling of control I¡¯d ever borne over my intent, projecting my question into the air. The ambient mana accepted my request with a childlike embrace, carrying it like a message in a bottle to the uncertain Scythe.


    I could sense it. Even from deep underneath the spells that tore and mutilated Nico¡¯s mind, something responded to my intent, rising like fresh springwater beneath cracked desert land.


    But it wasn¡¯t enough. Even though the Scythe stared down at me with something between confusion and contempt, strangely frozen in place, my question alone wasn¡¯t enough to draw out an answer.


    I sighed, looking down at my hands. Once upon a time, they flew across a keyboard, writing code and algorithms as I sought a lifelong dream. I¡¯d found fulfillment and purpose in the creation of programs and computational wonders in my previous life. There was something about computers that called to me.


    And Nico had been an engineer. I could imagine it, understand it. Veiled deep beneath the cage Agrona had placed his mind within, I sensed his burning curiosity for the unknown. I could almost taste the desire to know how the world worked and put machines into action. It was all there, too, a mirror to my own.


    The only reincarnate who might understand me, I thought solemnly. Nico Sever.


    ¡°When this is all done, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll need a place to call my own,¡± I said quietly, imagining the scene. ¡°I can go anywhere in the world on my wings, traveling from sight to sight. There¡¯s someone I want to be with me, too, but I don¡¯t think they¡¯d like that sort of life. They need a mountaintop villa and a place to look out over the sea. But you know¡­ So long as my heart is full, that¡¯s where I¡¯ll be.¡±


    I felt my gaze unfocus as I allowed myself to dream for a moment. Flying from Fiachra to Darv to the Hearth and back, playing my concerts along the way? That was such a beautiful life. The image of it made something inside me ache with such potent longing. ¡°I could say a lot more, but it¡¯s that vision¡­ that idea¡­ that makes it all worth it, don¡¯t you think? Hasn¡¯t your heart asked itself where it would feel at home?¡±


    I gave Nico a slight smirk at that. I still sat in the lotus position, but I leaned backward on my hands in a more relaxed posture.


    The Scythe was frowning down at me as if I were insane. He looked me up and down as if I were a strange sort of insect. ¡°Did you hit your head when you came here, Spellsong?¡±


    ¡°Probably,¡± I answered with tired leisure. ¡°Taci Thyestes hits hard. Something could be scrambled inside.¡±


    The Scythe snorted in derisive amusement. ¡°I don¡¯t need to answer your questions,¡± he said defensively, his emotions struggling to react to my intent. ¡°I don¡¯t answer to you.¡±


    ¡°Then what makes it all worth it?¡± I asked simply. ¡°Vengeance? You¡¯ll have that soon. But there needs to be something after. You don¡¯t answer to me, true. How do you answer to yourself?¡±


    Nico¡¯s face slowly turned red as his emotions fought each other in a cannibalistic scramble inside his skull. Anger was always there. It could never go away. But so, too, was fear. Courage. ¡°So you presume to know me, Toren,¡± he hissed, lashing out in the face of my intent. Dark spikes of blood iron abruptly speared into the air around us, shearing through the tent¡¯s roof as easily as a scalpel danced across flesh. ¡°Once Grey grovels like a dog, I¡¯ll be satisfied. That¡¯s it.¡±


    His intent centered on me like the core of a dark star, trying to compress and break me. But I acknowledged each emotion like a folded paper boat, before allowing them along the stream of my mind.


    ¡°I wiped out the Named Blood family that killed my brother,¡± I responded, unfazed by the Scythe¡¯s attempt at puffing out his metaphorical plumage. ¡°I killed them to a man. And vengeance soothed the balm of that loss. I don¡¯t think Norgan would have wanted me to do that.¡±


    Nico¡¯s face screwed up into a demon¡¯s visage as he tilted his chin higher. I could sense it all boiling within him, like a balloon ready to pop. Hope and courage clawed their way up along branches of determination and grit. Intellect and desire sculpted the ladder of his escape. Between the effects of my intent, the knowledge my eyes carried of his very soul, and the nearness of his final goal, each of his emotions slowly rose on that crafted ladder.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to live my life,¡± he finally spat. ¡°I¡¯m going to have the life that was taken from me. From us. And nobody will ever hurt us again. Agrona will make sure of it.¡±


    I closed my eyes as I sensed Nico¡¯s emotions finally break free of his binding spell, all of them erupting like the lava from underground. They went everywhere, each splatter like multicolored paint across a red canvas. Wind like a hurricane rose around him, ripping at the tent and nearly making it fly away. Only a brush of my mana coating Cylrit behind me allowed him to remain asleep.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve worked for. I¡¯m going to make the life that was taken from us. Cecil and I will be happy. It¡¯s what we deserve. It¡¯s what we need. It doesn¡¯t matter what stands between us. I¡¯m going to rip it from Grey¡¯s cold, dead hands.¡± The Scythe heaved for breath above me, his hands rictus claws at his sides. ¡°Does that make you happy, Spellsong? You¡¯ve gotten your fucking answer.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just about being happy,¡± I responded after a moment, allowing it all to drift by and through me. ¡°It¡¯s about finding peace with our actions, and what we¡¯ll do in the future: however unfair it may be.¡±


    ¡°Peace is a myth the strong tell the weak to keep them enslaved,¡± the Scythe bit out as he turned on his heels, utterly unaware of the irony of his statement. Agrona¡¯s spell was already reasserting itself over Nico¡¯s emotions, constraining and containing them. ¡°Tell Seris that she only has this one chance while Tessia is here.¡±


    The Scythe stalked from the tent, trailing little embers of soulfire and leaving me to my solemnity.

 Chapter 291: Wretched

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Nico Sever


    The early nighttime air was crisp as I stalked through the camp. The stars gleamed balefully down from the heavens, and the thin sliver of visible moon mocked me like a hooded eye.


    The soldiers I marched past shied away from me in fear as my aura trailed me like a dread cloak, but I didn¡¯t pay them any attention.


    Draneeve had come to me a few minutes ago, the mockery of a Retainer throwing himself to his knees as he informed me of Spellsong¡¯s most recent actions.


    Can¡¯t he understand that this is my only chance? I thought angrily, my fingers clenching so hard that my nails dug into my palms and drew blood.


    I looked across the massive river fork, my mana churning in my core. The mists swirled and danced with mockery, just like the stars and moon far overhead.


    Grey thinks everything is so safe in his little kingdom, I thought with an angry sneer. He¡¯s even flaunting Tessia about as if she¡¯s some sort of trophy. Those damned Lance tethers are making him cocky and arrogant. But he¡¯ll learn soon.


    I scoffed, then turned back to my march as I moved through the sand.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to find Spellsong and Cylrit. Both of them were just outside their tents, gearing up for a long flight. The Retainer, it appeared, had finally woken up from whatever had put him down. He was clothed in light leather armor, appearing far more dignified than his last wretched state. His horns caught the light beneath his ruffled hair. He was stretching and rolling his back as he kept his red eyes turned east, utterly dismissing me. It was as if I didn¡¯t exist to Cylrit, even though I was a Scythe.


    But Spellsong? Spellsong turned to look at me with those arrogant, assuming eyes of his.


    ¡°Scythe Nico,¡± he said, nodding his head slightly. ¡°We were just¨C¡±


    ¡°Leaving?¡± I accused, my brows furrowing. ¡°When this chance is right in front of me?!¡±


    Toren sighed. ¡°Yes, we were leaving,¡± he said, his tone straining. ¡±We aren¡¯t under your authority, but that of Seris. If you want our assistance with Lance Silverthorn, then you need to talk with her, not us.¡±


    My intent billowed out around me as I stopped keeping my power in check. ¡°Talking with Seris will take time; time I don¡¯t have. So now that you¡¯ve recovered, you will follow me across that river to capture Tessia. You don¡¯t have a choice, Toren Daen.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice¡­¡± the arrogant mage said, his brow twitching as my power washed around him. ¡°Are you threatening me, Nico?¡±


    I laughed, deep and mirthful. ¡°If that¡¯s what it takes for progress, then that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing. Agrona gave me the position of Scythe. Not you.¡±


    Memories of training with Scythe Melzri stabbed through my psyche like hot needles, surrounded by the fog of the High Sovereign¡¯s promises. I¡¯d spent nearly two decades in this purgatory, slowly working towards my final goal to give Cecilia and me a new life, one that wasn¡¯t tainted by Grey¡¯s shadow. And it could be done soon. Tessia was across that river, and Spellsong could break her tether.


    Spellsong. Toren Daen. The phoenix experiment. Agrona had spoken of him a few times, mainly in passing and with a smirk of wry amusement. The High Sovereign had mused on how his aetheric arts and progression of power were unseen amongst lesser mages. Those eyes had sparkled with each word.


    But now that I was close to him, I couldn¡¯t sense what was so special about him that made Agrona so amused. He was weaker than me, I could tell. Unlike all the Scythes of Taegrin Caelum, his aura didn¡¯t wash over me like a tide and stamp the difference of power into my psyche like a brand.


    He was weaker than me. Which meant he¡¯d follow me or die, just like every Alacryan soldier on this side of the river.


    Toren sighed, then turned to look at me.


    Everyone I¡¯d ever met in this world thought they knew me. Viessa had scoffed and turned up her nose during our training, utterly disdainful. She¡¯d taken one look at me and deemed me a lost cause without any worth. Melzri tried to coddle me and act like we were family or something, the crazy bitch. Dragoth openly mocked me, saying that the position of Scythe was lessened by my mere presence. Seris simply observed with inquisitive eyes from afar, but I knew she thought me lesser, too.


    It was only Agrona who truly understood me. Only he understood that Cecil and I deserved another chance, not Grey. Only he had our interests at heart.


    And when I saw Spellsong¡¯s eyes again, my hackles rose in irritation. Because deep within his burning pupils, he thought he knew me, just like all the others.


    ¡°You can¡¯t keep me here,¡± Toren said in a simple voice. ¡±We¡¯re returning to Seris¡¯ camp between Carn and Blackbend. I am thankful that you allowed me to rest and recover in your camp, but that does not obligate me to follow your orders.¡±


    My aura swelled around me as black spikes of oily metal thrust from the ground at my feet. My hands ignited with soulfire as I took a step forward, ready to make my point if I needed to.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Spellsong,¡± I snarled, black fires erupting around me as I glared at the man. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice.¡±


    But then I froze, my eyes widening as I felt a sudden, sharp pain. I grunted as something pierced my chest, parting my mana barrier and the soulfire surrounding me like an aura without even a blink.


    I looked down, blinking in utter surprise at the blade poised over my sternum. A weapon of folded, crystalline mana ignored the hellfire pulsing around me, the tongues of blackness licking at the edges and trying to destroy them.


    But my fires couldn¡¯t seem to find purchase on the weapon. Wherever they met the summoned blade, a strange humming frequency disrupted and pulled at my control, before flickering orange fires tore apart the lingering remnants of my soulfire.


    Sweat beaded down the side of my face as I sensed how close that sharp tip inched toward my mana core. I hadn¡¯t even sensed the blade being summoned, nor perceived its passing through my flesh before it was already poised over the nexus of my power.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Spellsong¡¯s eyes narrowed as he stared at me consideringly. ¡°You mistake temperance for weakness, Nico Sever,¡± he said, his voice cool as frostfire. ¡°I have been patient and respectful to you beyond what is deserved. But when I told you that you couldn¡¯t keep us here, I meant that you. Could. Not. There is no world in which you stop me. Do you understand?¡±


    I grimaced as I glared at the mage, unable to move forward for fear of spearing my own core, but also burning inside. I remained silent, staring down Toren Daen as his hands tensed on the hilt of his saber.


    My eyes slowly widened as I stared deep into Toren¡¯s burning eyes. I could sense it there, as he held that saber. The scales shifted deep within his mind.


    He¡¯s going to kill me, I realized suddenly, my aura flaring as blood trailed down my shirt. The crazy bastard. But if I die, Cecil will never get her second chance!


    The sound of the distant camp fell away as the world seemed to focus on just us two for a moment. My breathing shuttered as I remembered being Elijah again. Weak, weak Elijah, who couldn¡¯t do anything himself. Weak Nico, who could never save Cecil from the Enforcers.


    Weak Nico, who saw his death approaching because he prodded the sun. Always, always too weak.


    A pale hand settled on Toren¡¯s shoulder, breaking the rising tension. ¡°We must go, Spellsong,¡± Cylrit grunted. ¡°Master Seris waits for us.¡±


    Spellsong turned to look at the Retainer, working his jaw. ¡°Thank you, Cylrit,¡± he said with a sigh. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    Toren let the blade in his hand dissipate, before turning away.


    Turning his back on me.


    Before this, I might have called him foolish. He opened up his back to a volley of bloodiron and soulfire death, immediately after threatening a Scythe.


    But as dark fires flickered around the spot on my chest where Toren¡¯s blade had pierced, quickly healing over the wound and sealing the cut near my core, I realized the truth.


    He was like Cadell: so sure and confident in his power in relation to mine that he knew he could turn his back on me. Showing me his back was the same equivalent as showing an insect your back. Nothing I could do would hurt him.


    There were rumors that the Breaking of Burim was caused by Spellsong fighting off an asura. I hadn¡¯t believed it before, of course. But now, I wondered.


    ¡°We¡¯ve kept Seris waiting long enough,¡± Spellsong said, looking up at the sky. Cylrit had already started lifting up into the air.


    The mage spared me one more complicated glance as I stood there, seething inside and gnashing my teeth. ¡°What?¡± I demanded, feeling humiliated just like I¡¯d always experienced deep within Taegrin Caelum. ¡°What do you want to say, Toren Daen?¡±


    The young man didn¡¯t respond for a while, the wind whipping at his hair. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± he finally said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to listen to me anyways.¡±


    And then he rose into the sky, following after Cylrit as they sped eastward.


    ¡ª


    As night fully enveloped the warfront, I glared across the water. Alacrya¡¯s piteous soldiers had tried to punch north again and reach past the illusory mists, but they¡¯d been gunned down by elves hidden deep within the fog. Steamboats had been sunk, before being pushed back by spell and gunfire.


    Gunfire. Grey had gone and stolen another thing from our past lives, acting as if it was his to give. The musket barrels that peered out from the dense forests and picked off any mage that strayed too far from our Shields told me all I needed to know.


    When Agrona had begun to disassemble the Dicatheous, I¡¯d known immediately what model engine it had been based on. After all, I¡¯d had the blueprints for the old steam engine for years over my bed in Wilbeck¡¯s orphanage. When Grey and I had bunked together there, he¡¯d memorized it eventually.


    But he didn¡¯t truly know it. The design was inefficient and outdated. I could have helped Agrona improve it greatly to modern standards. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The High Sovereign claimed it didn¡¯t matter. It wasn¡¯t a priority. I should focus on my training and my eventual fight with Grey.


    And now he thinks guns will save him, I thought with a sneer, watching the far bank with dark ire. I could go over there right now and tear them all apart. With my Vritra-blooded arts, I could melt away the mist and tear apart Tessia¡¯s protections.


    But what if Grey pulls the tether? I asked myself, restraining the ever-present rage. He killed Cecil. He¡¯d kill Tess, too, if it saved his pathetic self from justice.


    Grey, always the same cockroach. He¡¯d even revealed his true colors to everyone, too, making himself King again. I should have expected it. He¡¯d only ever become King in our first lives for himself, too.


    I was torn from my thoughts as a purple pane of energy fuzzed into existence beside me, just deep enough in the shadows that the legions of troops far behind me would be unable to see it. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as a wave of domineering power washed from the portal.


    Agrona¡¯s personal enforcer stepped from the portal, the clank of his footsteps snuffing out the fires of my thoughts. His bone-white hair reminded me of a graveyard as he swept his apathetic red gaze across me. The chiseled gray marble of his features rejected the moonlight high above like a reaper. In one gauntleted hand, he held a tempus warp, still humming with mana. The other, a horn as white as the moon and glimmering with veins of orange and purple.


    I restrained the shiver that welled up from within my core as his curdled blood gaze pinned me to the ground.


    ¡°Cadell,¡± I snapped. ¡°Where the hell have you been?¡±


    ¡°Nico,¡± the stoic sentinel replied. ¡°My actions and whereabouts are not your concern.¡±


    I uttered a guttural snarl, the events of the past few hours building to a raging crescendo in my head. ¡°Not my concern? Not my concern? Agrona promised me a chance to fight Grey. He promised me a chance to recover Tessia. And you are supposed to be the one that¨C¡±


    The night became silent. It hadn¡¯t been silent before¡ªin the far distance, soldiers chatted, crickets chirped, and the sounds of scraping earth and intermittent gunfire cast the world in noise¡ªbut then Cadell¡¯s intent washed out of him like cold frost.


    His aura wasn¡¯t suffocating. It could be if it wanted to, of course, but as the mana creeped up my legs and arms and into my chest in a slow, chilling path, I thought I knew what winter truly was like: the kind that slowly took everything from you. Not because it wanted to, but simply because it could. Because you were too weak to push past the cold and hunger and fear. This was the frostbite that took only the frail and broken.


    And compared to Cadell, I was weak.


    I was wrong, I thought, shivering. I shouldn¡¯t have compared Spellsong to Cadell. Nothing can compare to him.


    ¡°Agrona delivers on his promises,¡± the sentinel of dark steel said in a tone as empty as his soul. ¡°The Vessel will be retrieved in due time, but the introduction of her as a Lance creates complications for the process.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I bit back into the summer air, noting that my breath was freezing over as it left my lungs. ¡°But we should have a solution to that! Spellsong broke Lance Olfred¡¯s tether, and he was just here earlier! He flew back to Seris¡¯ camp a few hours back, but if you command Seris to give him to us, then there¡¯s nothing she can do!¡±


    For the first time ever, I thought I saw a flicker of interest wash across the immutable stone of Cadell¡¯s features. He clenched his gauntlet around the white horn in his hand, drawing it into a dimension ring. ¡°Spellsong was here, so soon after his fight? He makes good time.¡±


    ¡°But if we could just¨C¡±


    ¡°The matter of Lance Silverthorn¡¯s bindings are being seen to. King Leywin¡¯s defenses are not as impervious as he thinks they are, and he bears the weaknesses of every lesser. It is not an issue.¡± Cadell loomed over me, his mouth twitching down into a frown. ¡°Spellsong is not your concern.¡±


    ¡°Then give me a timeframe,¡± I demanded, my impatience growing. ¡°I can¡¯t wait a hundred years like Agrona, and he doesn¡¯t know Grey like he thinks he does.¡±


    ¡°When I have ensured Scythe Viessa has correctly followed orders throughout this war, then you will get your confrontation.¡± Cadell turned, looking toward the tent that Toren and Cylrit had exited from. He breathed in slowly, seeming to expand with the motion as the ambient mana trembled. ¡°So you will wait, Nico.¡±


    The horned man ignored my fuming rage, instead funneling more mana into the tempus warp in his hands. Another portal slowly fuzzed into existence in front of him. ¡°I will be back. Do not act rashly.¡±


    And then he was gone, leaving me alone like a dog let off its leash. And as Cadell¡¯s words rang through my head, I felt my head creak towards the far bank.


    Agrona wasn¡¯t taking this seriously. Cadell wasn¡¯t taking this seriously. Seris wasn¡¯t taking this seriously. If I didn¡¯t do anything, this chance would slip through my fingers.


    I needed to act.

 Chapter 292: Reflection

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Cylrit and I flew silently through the night sky over the desert of Darv. The sands whipped and tore at our loose clothing as the winds carried us along, but despite the howling noise of the dwarven country, it still felt silent between us.


    I¡¯d briefed the Retainer on what had transpired in the wake of his fight with the Wraiths. He knew how Burim had broken. He knew of my battle with Chul.


    And he knew the state his master was in.


    After I¡¯d told him about Seris¡¯ current state and why I¡¯d taken such risks to break him from the Dicathians¡¯ flying castle, he¡¯d gone silent. His intent radiated a quiet sort of contemplativeness that I didn¡¯t interrupt.


    I kept my eyes forward, listening to the rush of the winds. I still felt tired, exhaustion seeping deep into my bones. I¡¯d recovered most of my mana in the eight or so hours I¡¯d spent meditating, but I hadn¡¯t slept at all since before my mission to infiltrate the castle. I could feel the bags beneath my eyes drooping low.


    We¡¯d left Nico behind on that riverbank a few hours ago, glaring up at us as we departed. I was certain we¡¯d meet again.


    In my head, Aurora was silent. She sensed the upcoming meeting in a different way than I did, and I could tell that she needed her space for the moment.


    ¡°Things must change,¡± Cylrit finally said, his voice swallowed by the Darvish howl. ¡°If my capture can disrupt Master Seris so greatly¡­.¡±


    The Retainer of Sehz-Clar was wearing more appropriate attire than loose linens and prisoner¡¯s garb, but he still looked exhausted, too. He didn¡¯t turn to look at me as we flew through the sky.


    ¡°It¡¯s a matter of perspective,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°Caring for others¡­ Feeling¡­ It¡¯s a beautiful poison. It can seep into your veins and settle there, bringing bliss as much as pain.¡±


    The dark-haired Retainer tilted his head, the only indicator that he was listening to me. I thought it ironic, in a way. If Seris were to die¡­ Then this man would have nothing left. He¡¯d dedicated himself to her so fully that there was no Cylrit outside of Seris.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be close to somebody without bringing the potential of hurt, Cylrit. There is no future where you¡¯re able to be all that you are and not risk her pain.¡± The Retainer didn¡¯t respond after that, still stuck deep in thought. Captivity had not suited him well, and introspection even less so. I wagered all he could do while locked in those dungeons was think. ¡°But this isn¡¯t about that, is it?¡±


    I could sense it in Cylrit¡¯s intent. I didn¡¯t know if he was entirely certain of the words and emotions churning in his stomach at all, but he needed to say them.


    ¡°When I was stationed in Vildorial, I spoke often with Olfred Warend,¡± the Vritra-blooded man said as we crossed over the sands. ¡°The dwarf lamented how he felt as if he had been too loyal in following Elder Rahdeas. He warned me against the loyalty of my position, claiming it would only end poorly. I nearly struck him across the jaw for his insolence.¡±


    I resisted a sardonic chuckle as Cylrit¡¯s words reached me, noting how he restricted his question purely to implication rather than statement. I wondered who had developed this habit first: Cylrit, or Seris?


    The Retainer was having doubts. Not truly about his level of loyalty, I didn¡¯t think, but the quality of it. I could sense it in his intent. If he performed every order and action without question as he always had, then was he truly loyal?


    ¡°We must always question orders and the reasons why, Cylrit,¡± I said after a moment. ¡°That was where Olfred failed in his loyalty to Rahdeas. It was blind to any other possibility.¡±


    I knew that Olfred was currently stationed near the opening of the Sehz Canal in the far west, waiting for another northward push into Sapin alongside a fleet of Alacryan ships. He¡¯d been volunteering and taking more action in the wake of the Breaking of Burim.


    The former dwarven Lance¡¯s loyalty and devotion to his father had been shattered alongside the Undercrofts. I had no doubt that Cylrit saw the parallels.


    ¡°Questioning orders leads to hesitance,¡± Cylrit responded automatically in an overly gruff tone. ¡°I cannot be what Master Seris needs me to be without surety and force of will.¡±


    I exhaled a bit through my nose, feeling the sandstorm¡¯s anger wash past my telekinetic shroud ineffectually. I worked my jaw, uncertain of what to say.


    I¡¯d always seen Cylrit¡¯s devotion to Seris as a good thing. He was a pillar of emotional support for her, a stalwart sentinel of security. His presence meant things were going according to plan. His presence meant that she was a Scythe and in a position of power. His presence meant that she was always reminded of what she could become.


    But in my one-track focus on the Scythe and wishing for her well-being, I¡¯d forgotten something deep inside. It had slipped past my mind like the whisper of a ghost.


    Cylrit was a person, too. Just as much as anyone else. I¡¯d subconsciously fallen into the Retainer¡¯s own flawed mindset: that the only value he had was to Seris as his master. His only worth came from his service and the health of someone above him.


    And only as the comparison to Olfred came alight did I see this.


    I wilted slightly in shame as I flew, a curdling disappointment with myself rising from my gut. I¡¯d saved Cylrit from his capture not because he was a friend and a worthy companion, but because Seris needed him. I¡¯d rescued him not because he was just as valuable a friend as any other, but because my lover¡¯s hope was burnt by his absence.


    ¡°But what will you do about it, Toren?¡± Aurora asked silently, her cool voice drifting across my mind. ¡°What will you say?¡±


    That was the question, wasn¡¯t it?


    ¡°Agrona holds power because nobody questions him,¡± I finally said. ¡°If you want to be truly loyal to Seris, then you can¡¯t let her go unquestioned. If it¡¯s what you need to do, then never hesitate in the moment. Never question your orders before they are given. But at the very least, question them after.¡±


    The Retainer looked at me from one, deep red eye, the other covered by his dark hair.


    ¡°And you are still a person, Cylrit. Seris doesn¡¯t need a willing slave. She needs people who can share her burdens. If you want to be loyal to her, start by being loyal to yourself.¡±


    The Retainer was silent for many long minutes as we inched closer and closer to our destination. The angry howl of the Darvish winds slammed more and more grains of sand into our mana barriers, but we held strong. We wouldn¡¯t be conquered by the elements.


    Cylrit¡¯s intent fluctuated greatly as he struggled to process my words and take them apart. I could see it in how his eyes observed the empty dunes far below, and in each rise and fall of his uncertain chest.


    ¡°Be myself¡­¡± the Retainer muttered, seeming more troubled than when he¡¯d had a gadget strapped to his core. ¡°I don¡¯t think I know who that is.¡±


    I chortled with amusement, flashing back to that time so long ago in the Undead Zone, where I¡¯d been uncertain of who I was. ¡°Would you believe me if I said there was always time to figure that out?¡± I offered, an amused smirk splitting my face.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t long ago that I was lecturing you on loyalty and dedication, Spellsong,¡± he retorted somberly. ¡°Do you think our positions have changed that much?¡±


    I worked my jaw as I remembered what Cylrit oh-so-thankfully reminded me of. Our ¡®sparring sessions¡¯ were few and far between, but each one of them had been an opportunity for the Retainer to break my jaw or pummel me into the dirt with the excuse of ¡°teaching loyalty¡± as justification.


    I glared a little bit at the man, remembering the phantom pains of regrowing my teeth. ¡°Maybe I should just deliver you back to the Dicathians and have you fight your way out on your own,¡± I said grumpily. ¡°Maybe after that, you can try and teach me about loyalty.¡±


    Cylrit snorted, a slight smirk rising on his face. ¡°It would not change reality,¡± he said gravely. ¡°The truth is that my lessons taught you well. Pain is a great motivator.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes, feeling that old, familiar annoyance bubble up inside as I squinted at the Retainer. ¡°Maybe I should take your route of persuasion. If I hit you hard enough, perhaps your brain would rattle around in your skull to the point it all clicks.¡±


    The Retainer only scoffed. ¡°Perhaps then I would be rid of these incessant questions in my head.¡±


    I squinted my eyes as I finally caught sight of our destination, a little way to the northwest. A tall, jutting spire of expertly crafted stone defied the constant winds as it stood like an iron guard over the Sehz River. One of the only dwarven castles ever constructed above ground watched the banks of the mighty flow, stalwart against any potential incursion from Sapin.


    ¡°We¡¯re here, Cylrit,¡± I said quietly, allowing my voice to reach the Retainer with my sound magic.


    As we got closer, it became easier to make out details around the tall, central castle. This close to the banks of the Sehz, the Darvish winds were less punishing, and sprouts of grass and copses of palm trees created the illusion of an oasis. It reminded me of the banks of the Nile from my previous life.


    When men went to war along that mighty river thousands of years ago in another world, I thought, my eyes solemnly tracing the banks of the flow, did it look like this, too?


    A massive, sprawling war camp spread around that central castle, stretching far across the dunes. Men and dwarves both milled about, sharpening weapons and rushing to follow orders. Campfires bloomed in countless orange embers alongside lighting artifacts, granting the entrenched men a modicum of light in the darkness. Flags of red and gray flew across the countless tents, the symbols of a dozen Named and High Blood houses flying beneath the standards of Alacrya¡¯s Dominions.


    Anticipation. Fear. Anxiety. Confidence. Dread. All of it came together like a slurry of melted metals mixed into a pot and set to boil. I could almost imagine the molten slag of war seeping through all those present and burning them away.


    And across the water, the situation was much the same. A mile away, an endless sprawl of Dicathian war camps radiated terror and uncertainty, too. They didn¡¯t have one, massive castle like the dwarves, but a sprawling military town with powerful walls and deep trenches. Deep within their ranks, I could sense another powerful mana signature: one that was incredibly familiar.


    Lance Aya? I thought, furrowing my brows as I hovered in the sky, turning north. She¡¯s been sent to try and counter Seris, I presume. She¡¯s stronger than when we last fought. Much stronger.


    The intermittent clashes along the Triple Fork south of Blackbend City weren¡¯t the only battlegrounds of the war. The war would reach a crescendo here, too.


    My attention was torn from the enemy camps, however, as an unerring, focused intent settled onto my soul. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end from its sheer, direct draw, the familiar emotions like drops of warm wine along the back of my throat.


    I turned in the sky, looking back at the crenellations of the dwarven castle as it loomed high over the rest of the Alacryan camps.


    An image of dark silver and waiting power stood waiting for us both atop the castle walls, alone and undaunted by the world. Seris¡¯ horns drank in the light as she stared at Cylrit and me from a mile away, her orders made manifest in her very gaze.


    Come back to me.


    The Retainer and I didn¡¯t say another word to each other as we felt Seris¡¯ quiet demand in her mana and stare. We simply obliged, flying forward and bending to her will. It didn¡¯t take long for us to reach the crenellations, both Cylrit and I tapping down on the castle walls.


    The Scythe across from us remained silent. Outwardly, she was the perfect picture of poise and grace. With her upturned chin, cool, serene eyes, and horns that drank in the night air around us, I couldn¡¯t imagine a more regal depiction of a stoic queen.


    But her intent told me otherwise. Tinged with the pained motes of Inversion, it had only become more and more apparent to me as time went on. I could sense the emotions building behind her careful mask. Her pale, pink lips did not tremble. Her brow did not crease. Her fingers did not twitch from where she held them in front of her.


    It was a bare thing. As her dark eyes observed us both, noting the blood, tears, and stains across my shirt¡ªI¡¯d only managed to get a spare set of boots from Nico¡¯s camp, but hadn¡¯t changed or washed up from my fights¡ªI could taste the twin serpents of her anger and concern coiling around each other.


    I¡¯d left Seris after making a plan to save the Retainer at my side, and I¡¯d succeeded. I¡¯d seen how close to hopelessness she¡¯d become, and I¡¯d been determined to give her a pillar of certainty once again. And as the Scythe witnessed us both¡ªbattered, bruised, and alive¡ªI hoped deep in my mana core that she could see it. That even if there wasn¡¯t any light, I would make it.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The tension lingered there like building pressure in a steam boiler, ready to blow.


    Cylrit¡¯s posture had slowly become more and more refined and sturdy as the moon-blessed Scythe¡¯s gratitude and relief both struggled past their masks. His ever-constant station as Retainer slowly slid back into place over his emotions like a glove as he stared past Seris, waiting at attention for whatever she would say.


    He¡¯d spent over a week in Dicathen¡¯s dungeons in captivity, slowly wasting away. Afterward, I¡¯d needed to rescue him and deliver him back. But for all the trials and tribulations Cylrit had experienced, he projected one, single message to the woman across from us.


    I am here to serve, he said with that upright posture and steady, distant gaze. I am your sword and shield, always ready to do as you need. That has not changed.


    And as Seris¡¯ focus honed in on Cylrit, her eyes seeming to take in all of this at once, I felt some of that tension deep beneath her layers ease. As certainty returned, so too did her composure.


    A slight smile pulled at the edges of my lips as I felt the woman I cared for finally reach a decision on how to move forward.


    ¡°Come with me,¡± Seris finally ordered, her voice cool and commanding. She turned on her heel, drawing an unseen strength from the presence of us both that helped her slim shoulders seem much more broad. ¡°We have much to discuss.¡±


    And then she began to stride back towards the castle doors, her dark dress flaring like the corona of a blackened star. Her heartbeat¡ªwhitened and pained by the inverted decay coursing through her veins¡ªtrembled unevenly.


    We followed silently, both of us understanding that silence was what the Scythe needed. The click-click-click of her heels resounded through the cramped hallways of the castle.


    ¡°It has been a slight struggle to move all of our troops into position,¡± Seris said, her hair swaying like threads of silver. ¡°But my pieces have all been laid across this board. Once victory is achieved at this point on the river, my forces can sweep east and reinforce those of Scythe Nico¡¯s.¡±


    Seris looked back at me over her shoulder. ¡°Presumably you¡¯ve met him, Toren.¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, remembering my encounters with the angry, wrathful reincarnate that I was destined to kill. ¡°I have. He desires to strike across the river immediately and take Tessia hostage. He wanted me to join him immediately, but I opted to return to you first before any commitments.¡±


    I¡¯d suspected that the Scythe had wanted me to interact with Nico as I¡¯d crossed over the Grand Mountains, and the twinkle I saw in her eye told me all I needed to know. Layered in here somewhere was a scheme that would bring my blade to the reincarnate¡¯s throat.


    ¡°Scythe Nico is impatient and brash,¡± Seris said after a moment of consideration. ¡°He has never learned patience, but it is one of the most important virtues. Any plan¡ªno matter how grand¡ªcan be dashed to the wind if one cog in the machine moves too quickly for the rest. By placing him there, it will act as a measure to temper his emotions and make him a better tool for our High Sovereign. To this end, I¡¯ve ordered him to keep still on that southern bank and wait for my final say in intervention.¡±


    Just from Seris¡¯ intent, I thought I was starting to get an idea of the vague outline of her plan. She wanted Nico to act out and disobey her orders, potentially to create some sort of opening. But this might all fail for one reason alone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think Tessia Eralith is actually along that Northern Front,¡± I said quietly, remembering how I¡¯d briefly delved into the Sea of my Soul during my meditation in Nico¡¯s camp. Worried about Tessia potentially being captured, I¡¯d scried the distant celestial bodies that made up that far blackness. ¡°I think it¡¯s some sort of ploy from King Leywin. It¡¯s a front of some sort, designed to bait his enemies into a trap.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t easily detect the locations of people using the resonance I carried with their souls if they didn¡¯t let me in, but the closer I physically was to a person, the easier it became. And while I¡¯d been sitting on that bank of the river and looking into my Sea, I got no sense at all that Tessia was nearby.


    ¡°I concur with this, Toren,¡± Seris replied smoothly. The low torches in the castle¡¯s upper hallways cast her in flickering light. ¡°There have been conflicting and constant reports of Lance Silverthorn¡¯s position on various points across Dicathen. Nobody can seem to decide where she truly is, but it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    The Scythe pushed her way through a final set of double doors, revealing a surprisingly sparse meeting room. But despite it all, everything was organized to perfection. An ornate desk stood proudly at the center, covered in sheets of paper that depicted battleplans and schematics. A few experimenting devices sat on the far end of the room, each bubbling and boiling with a familiar element clawing at the ambient mana.


    Inverted decay, I realized, my eyes widening slightly as I stared at a particular beaker of blood. Particles of whitish-gray energy swirled within, glowing in the low light. Seris has been concentrating it from her blood somehow.


    And as I remembered that plume of white poison centered around the Scythe¡¯s heart, I felt my worries and fears return again. The Vritra-blooded mage¡¯s heartbeat felt strong, but I could still sense that it was a fa?ade on some level. She had never recovered from Chul spiking her heart with Inversion.


    I opened my mouth, about to ask if Seris had recovered at all. Last I¡¯d left her, she¡¯d still been struggling to suppress every wave of the energy as it coursed like a recurring heart attack across her very physique. She¡¯d disavowed me trying to heal her, afraid that I would only make it worse.


    And I couldn¡¯t deny the possibility. Basilisk blood already reacted poorly to my phoenix will. It was entirely possible I would only allow the angry reverse of decay to tear through her system unchecked, or accidentally strengthen it with my heartfire.


    Before I could voice the question, however, Seris spoke up in a clear voice like spring chimes. ¡°A couple of days ago, I sent you on a mission, Toren Daen.¡± The Vritra-blooded mage clasped her hands overtop her stomach, focusing on the not-so-distant table instead of both Cylrit and I behind her. ¡°I ordered you to return with my Retainer alive and unharmed on an expedition to the Dicathian flying castle.¡±


    Then she turned around, and I could see the mask on her face as cracks spread through it one second at a time. Each twitch of her brow, narrowing of her eyes, and exhale of breath past her pink lips threatened to shatter it all into glass. Her eyes darted to Cylrit, who stood by my side like a steady monolith. I could sense as her resolve hardened under his presence. And when she looked back at me, her eyes glistened slightly with the teasing possibility of a single tear. When she blinked, however, the possibility vanished beneath decades of poise.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done as I commanded yet again, Toren, even exceeding my expectations,¡± she said with forced formality. ¡°But there have clearly been complications regarding your mission.¡±


    Her eyes traveled from each cut and tear in my clothing, lingering particularly long on the yawning, gaping hole across shirt that was mirrored on my back. It wasn¡¯t hard to put together that something had utterly obliterated my stomach just from that.


    I chanced a look at the solemn Cylrit, exhaling slightly as I noted how he forced himself to maintain his normal protocol. He never voiced his mind, only speaking when spoken to. He was a doll more than a man, his sole objective to protect the Scythe across from us.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you can ever give me a mission that won¡¯t have complications somewhere,¡± I said with a bit of a snort. ¡°It¡¯s in the nature of working with you.¡± S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seris¡¯ eyes tightened imperceptibly at my wording. ¡°You work for me, not with me,¡± she countered, a bit of her tension releasing at my banter. ¡°Too often, you forget your place.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s part of my charm,¡± I argued, puffing out my chest slightly. ¡°I think protocols are for people who don¡¯t want fun. Are you an enemy of fun, Seris?¡±


    Seris scoffed, her shoulders loosening even as her chin rose higher in challenge. ¡°Cylrit, cuff Toren across the back of the head. He has earned himself a lashing most unique.¡±


    I smirked¡ªthe exact kind that I knew annoyed Seris to hell and back¡ªthen turned to Cylrit, who was looking at me with resigned eyes.


    ¡°You wanna try?¡± I goaded. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you can¡¯t.¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s brow twitched. ¡°Master Seris,¡° he said, his voice sounding pained, ¡°with all due respect, I do not think that me hitting him would solve anything. His attitude needs a more fundamental adjustment.¡±


    Damn, I thought, the mood lightening in the air as Cylrit hit back. Never knew you had it in you, square-jaw.


    I laughed slightly at that, turning back to Seris, who was also restraining a smile. The tension lingering in the room washed away like morning fog banished by the dawn. The Scythe slowly stalked toward me, her chin raised and her eyes narrowed.


    Then her hand flashed, before it crashed against my cheek in a weak slap. I allowed my head to turn as it struck, feeling the emotional blow far more than the physical.


    The Scythe¡¯s fingers trembled slightly, her smile shaking at its edges. ¡°You fought an asura without my authorization,¡± she said, her voice wavering. ¡°And nearly got yourself killed when you promised you would not. What will it take for you to simply follow my orders?¡±


    I sighed, reaching out and taking the Scythe¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said honestly, my voice lowering. ¡°I promised you I¡¯d come back, but I shouldn¡¯t have worried you.¡±


    I felt the urge to take Seris in my arms and embrace her, to let her know that I was here. That Taci hadn¡¯t found his success, and that there was still light in this world. But as that impulse clashed with the Scythe staring up at me from barely a foot away, I recognized something else.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything that happened, Seris,¡± I said softly, pushing aside her insistence from an underlying, nameless fear. And there was a tremendous amount of information she needed to know. Rinia¡¯s message to me would be important, no doubt. And Sylvie¡¯s story of how Agrona had spoken to Arthur was of paramount concern. Alongside this, the Indrath Heir¡¯s defiance of Windsom couldn¡¯t be excluded.


    And also¡­ Also, Aurora had awoken, too: and she needed to speak with her captive son.


    It was easy for me to tell why Seris was so insistent on me giving a mission report. It helped ease her thoughts, allowing us to fall into an old routine.


    ¡°But I really, really need to wash up,¡± I said lamely. ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a shirt at all, and I¡¯m convinced there¡¯s more blood and dirt on my head than actual hair.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyes narrowed slightly as I kept her at arm¡¯s length, unwilling to add dust and debris to her careful makeup and pristine appearance. Her eyes lingered on my shoulders contemplatively. ¡°The shirt is not a problem,¡± she said simply, her implications very clear. ¡°It is an unnecessary article of clothing. Nonetheless, I see what you intend, despite the inaccuracies of your statement.¡±


    I smiled slightly, warmed by the Scythe¡¯s usual teasing. Things can go back to how they were, I thought. They can get better. I spared a glance over at Cylrit. ¡°You know the broad details of what happened, Cylrit,¡± I said, conveying as much meaning into the look as I could. ¡°Think you can manage to tell Seris everything while I¡¯m gone, or will you trip on your ego?¡±


    Cylrit¡¯s lip curled up into a slight, grateful smile. Something in him was always warmed when he saw Seris act out of common form. ¡°Don¡¯t let your wings catch on the doorframes, Spellsong,¡± he said gravely. ¡°I¡¯ve given more reports than you ever have.¡±


    I shrugged, moving away from Seris. She looked at Cylrit again, drawing that same strength from his iron, stalwart self. Cylrit and I both knew that his giving a boring, rote report of events would do Seris far more good than me. Even if I thought he should find a new way to fulfill his role as Retainer, we were both united in the goal of Seris¡¯ happiness and fulfillment, even in ways as small as this.


    It was only when I was outside the room and I heard Cylrit beginning his report¡ªgiven in a robotic and monotonous drawl that would have driven me insane if I were in Seris¡¯ position¡ªthat I realized I didn¡¯t know where the washrooms were in this castle.


    I paused outside the door, momentarily considering if I should barge back in and ask for directions. Then I thought better of it.


    I¡¯ll find it eventually, I thought, beginning to walk through the castle. It had low ceilings, enough that I needed to hunch slightly for fear of smacking my head into the roof. I can find a bathroom, can¡¯t I?


    As I walked, however, the Unseen World slowly overtook my vision. Aurora walked with me, her steps locked in with mine.


    The asuran shade seemed to have the power to shrink herself ever-so-slightly, otherwise she would have been forced to hunch like I was. I found myself envying that power for a while.


    ¡°My Chul is in this castle,¡± the phoenix shade said quietly. ¡°I do not understand how I know, but I do. My battling songbird is here.¡±


    I felt her quiet insistence, desire, and guilt over our bond as she kept her gaze forward. In turn, I struggled to suppress my rage that coated my mind in sudden red. Nothing could make me angry quite like the mention of Chul. At every hint of his name, all the fires and death and destruction from Burim came rushing back all at once like a thousand hammerblows.


    Deep breath in, I thought, inhaling. I felt the tattered edges of my clothes against my body, each of them ever-present reminders of my last battle. Deep breath out.


    My bond didn¡¯t look at me, the shame too prevalent in her emotions. She didn¡¯t blame Chul for his attack on Burim, not like I did: she blamed herself. She thought she¡¯d done something wrong. Failed somewhere as a mother.


    And what can I ever say to ease that wound? I thought, feeling angry hopelessness. Tell her that it¡¯s all on Chul¡¯s shoulders? That every life could have been spared if he¡¯d just listened?


    But Aurora knew that. And in her mind, if she had stayed with her son so many years ago and taught him temperance and patience instead of running from his painful visage, he wouldn¡¯t have taken the actions he did on that fateful day.


    I needed to remain respectful and calm. For Aurora. It didn¡¯t matter what I thought and felt. Aurora¡¯s feelings were what took precedent, and every instance of my hatred burned her as much as when she¡¯d laid hands on her son. I couldn¡¯t let it show.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk to him next, Aurora,¡± I said in silent promise. ¡°We¡¯ll reunite with your son.¡±


    ¡ª


    Being clean had always been a part of my life. I kept everything I owned organized just as meticulously as Seris. In fact, her cleanliness and penchant for order was one of the things that made her attractive to me.


    But as the water of the shower washed away the dirt and blood that caked my body, I didn¡¯t feel cleansed. Cramped as I was in a stall far, far too small for me, hunching my back and curling inward as I tried not to slam my elbows and skull into the walls from how small it was, I didn¡¯t feel clean. I didn¡¯t feel my sins or worries or fears washing away in the water.


    I saw the pink-stained water rinse into a drain. I knew from Sonar Pulse that the small stream would travel all throughout the castle, before exiting near the base and into the river.


    I exited the shower far earlier than I usually did. I usually spent upwards of twenty minutes just feeling the warm water along my back and savoring the removal of all the filth across my body. But when I stepped from the shower and stared into the mirror, I knew why I felt tarnished.


    The Brand of the Banished stood darkly on the base of my neck, declaring the truth of my station. With a symbol of a slashed-through flame, I could feel it even in my soul.


    In the time I¡¯d spent meditating in Nico¡¯s camp, the reality that I¡¯d have to stay away from Alacrya until I was powerful enough to defy Agrona had made my mind spin and work. I had no other place to go; no avenue of safety. The Hearth would not keep me, and anywhere I ran would only leave me exposed for the forces of Epheotus to pick me off.


    I dried myself with a simple application of fire mana, the droplets of water coating my hair and body evaporating. I shook my head, my shoulder-length golden-red hair separating slightly.


    I took some time clothing myself again. Tall, leather boots were standard at this point, as were the gray slacks and undershirt that left my arms bare and exposed my oath-chain tattoos. A crimson martial vest with bronze trim adorned me, before a black belt tied my attire together.


    I stared into the bathroom mirror for a long time, noting my asuran features with a stern expression. Long enough that the Unseen finally washed over my vision, revealing the burned and charred visage of Lady Dawn behind me.


    In my hands rested the djinn medallion that Rinia had given me. With a slight imbuement of mana, it would take me¡ªand a few people whom I might choose¡ªto a distant sanctuary beneath the Darvish wastes. It would be stocked with plenty of food, water, and self-sustaining goods, too.


    I would be able to rest there as long as I needed, training to match the asura. And if Chul took that one, final step¡ªif he made a decision to reject the Will of the Clan¡ªthen he would join me there, too.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can ever be his brother, Aurora,¡± I said into the stillness as I stared into my reflected eyes. ¡°I know what you want. But he hurt so many people. He drove a stake through Seris¡¯ heart. And thousands will never wake again because of his actions.¡±


    The phoenix behind me swallowed. Though her shade no longer bore a heart, I could feel it shatter over again into a million pieces. ¡°I know,¡± she replied, squeezing her eyes shut. ¡°I can feel everything you do, Toren. I cannot begrudge you your pain.¡±


    Silence lingered as the mists of the Unseen swirled around the mirror. It hid Lady Dawn from me intermittently, blocking her dimming eyes from my sight.


    ¡°But can you please¡­ can you please promise to try?¡± she asked, each word a plea from the deepest depths of her soul. ¡°I know¡­ I know what you feel. But he is your brother. My son, too. And if you cannot be there for each other¡­ Then I understand. But please, try.¡±


    I exhaled a slow breath, tempted to curl into a ball and never step foot outside this castle ever again as Aurora¡¯s desperate plea washed over me.


    ¡°I swear that I¡¯ll try,¡± I said quietly, tearing the words from my throat. My hands clenched, my nails drawing blood from my palms. ¡°I swear that I¡¯ll try to be a brother to Chul, for you. Despite my pain, I swear that I¡¯ll try.¡±


    The oath-chains on my arm flared with red light as the vow sank into my soul, binding me to my words. And though Aurora hugged me, restraining the urge to weep as she sensed this promise, I still felt cold.

 Chapter 294: The Pain of Love

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Aurora


    Andravhor had the most wonderful eyes I had ever seen. I remembered, long ago, being immediately struck with intrigue upon seeing them. It wasn¡¯t simply their paleness, like a geode¡¯s crystal, or the way they reflected any emotion I might feel. It was that sparkle, that inquisitive awareness of everything around him that made me gravitate towards him.


    When my husband-to-be spoke, there was a sort of dance that he held with his own mind, deep within. He¡¯d talk of the stars and mathematics and distances and things that made little to no sense to me, but I could understand that twinkle in his eyes as he told grand tales of the wider universe. I could understand that because it was what I felt whenever I sang.


    Days had turned to months, then years. Before long, I had made Andravhor¡ªone of the very last of the djinn¡ªmy husband. And then Chul had come along.


    Even now, I remembered the swell of pride and joy I felt whenever I looked into the binary gaze of our son. He had both of our eyes. The fiery suns of my pupils burned there, true, but so too did that inquisitive and hopeful curiosity that my husband called his own.


    Until this moment, I had never truly understood why I loved those eyes so much. I had never truly internalized what made them so special to me.


    My son was covered in a dozen shallow wounds, each of them still red and seared from his last battle with Toren. Though I had no heart that could beat, I still felt as if it had broken apart all over again upon seeing the ragged state of his body. The unhealing wounds were cauterized in a vain attempt to seal them, but it was an imperfect measure. His hair clung to his face like reeds, each strand seeming to lack the vibrant fire that always drove him to laugh and challenge the world.


    He shouldn¡¯t have suffered like this. Nobody I loved should have to suffer like this.


    Chul¡¯s eyes held Toren¡¯s, both of my sons frozen as if by a spell. I could feel our rage¡ªthat twin, burning, impulsive rage that we both had shared as we enacted a facsimile of justice on the broken Scythe at our boots¡ªmelt away in the face of this moment.


    The room was still as they looked at each other, quietly measuring. Quietly guessing. Not a soul moved, not even Seris Vritra.


    I pushed outward more with my spirit, layering the Unseen World over Toren¡¯s vision. Though my skin ached and burned with every movement, it was utterly inconsequential to the thunder of my thoughts.


    Toren, I thought quickly, Toren, please! Let him see me! He can¡¯t, not without your intervention.


    Painful visions of a night not long past seared through my soul, where my son had failed to see me. He lacked the requisite understanding of heartfire to pierce the veil of souls. Already, I was seeking the relic brooch pinned to Toren¡¯s breast. Should I inhabit it, we could finally speak.


    Toren¡¯s eyes flicked to me, his jaw slowly working in the darkness. ¡°I can try, Aurora,¡± he thought slowly, ¡°but with the Brand¨C¡±


    As Toren¡¯s attention shifted away from Chul¡¯s, my half-blood son seemed to finally gain awareness of the room around him. He blinked, groaning as every movement jostled his wounds. His confused attention wandered about the prison chamber: from the black diamond walls, cracked from Toren¡¯s might, to Viessa Vritra¡¯s broken body beneath our feet, and then to Seris.


    Chul snarled, then lunged.


    Toren was moving before the world had time to register his brother¡¯s bared teeth. He flickered from a pulse of mana, then interposed himself between his nest-mate and his blood-borne brother. In his clenched hands, fire sputtered protectively.


    He needn¡¯t have acted. Chul collapsed forward onto the floor, too weak to affect much of anything. What might have been a powerful and predatory growl turned into a whimper of pain.


    Toren¡¯s emotions simmered and boiled again as he kept his hand on his nest-mate¡¯s arm, his grudge clouding his mind as his expression settled into one of restrained anger. Behind him, Seris Vritra¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, the woman far more calm and collected in the face of perceived threat.


    ¡°Step away from the Vritra, Human Cage,¡± Chul wheezed on the ground. He struggled to push himself to his feet, his bulky arms straining from weakness. ¡°She lies and¡­ beguiles. She will take¡ª¡±


    Toren scoffed with disgust, cutting off his brother. ¡°Seris, take Viessa somewhere else. She¡¯ll bleed out from that arm before too long.¡±


    The aforementioned Scythe stared at the bleary Chul, then back to my bond. ¡°You are making presumptions of your authority, Toren,¡± she replied slowly. She didn¡¯t step out from Toren¡¯s protective stance, however. ¡°You don¡¯t command me.¡±


    Toren breathed in deeply, then let out his breath as he kept his brother pinned with an iron stare. I began to pace back and forth, unable to keep every rising emotion contained with my mere shade.


    ¡°Please take her somewhere else,¡± he asked instead. ¡°I¡¯m not commanding you.¡±


    Seris Vritra visibly considered this, running the words over in her head. She looked down at the prostrated visage of my son. ¡°This asura is a danger to everything in this castle, as he has already displayed. Even weakened, I am loathe to leave you alone with him.¡±


    Chul¡¯s brows furrowed in confusion and anger at the perceived insult. ¡°I see the schemes in your eyes, Vritra,¡± he said, finally pushing himself to his feet. He wavered there, his mana weak in his core. ¡°Step away from¨C¡±


    ¡°Sit down!¡± Toren snarled, finally marching forward. His aura flared around him, slamming into Chul as if a physical blow. ¡°You cannot even comprehend what you have done. Talking about schemes? You cannot even begin to understand your crimes. Your sins taint you.¡±


    Chul¡¯s eyes widened at the complexity of Toren¡¯s intent. Every bit of rage finally began to reach a breaking point. The lid on his emotions and power quaked and trembled, each bit of grief and sorrow slamming into my son like hail within a storm.


    Just as he professed his love of life and desires for hope with his music, Toren beat his brother with his rage.


    Toren marched forward, his shrouded spirit flaring as Chul stumbled back. The black diamond vault trembled and quaked. ¡°The first thing you do after your genocide is to demand I step aside so you can kill more of the people I love?¡±


    Chul¡¯s breath choked off as he fell backward, unable to call on the power that would have protected him. His hands rose to his throat as his lungs stuttered, his eyes widening.


    My relic was between them before any more of this tragedy could continue. It flapped its wings weakly as it interposed itself within the wrath of my bond. I drove the wedge of my anger and care and the veracity of Toren¡¯s promise deep into his raging storm.


    Toren stuttered to a halt as he glared daggers at my relic, but I stood firm. With my heightened control of the craft, I had shrunk the Vessel Form from its normal size to something that would fit within this room ¡°You made me a promise, my bond,¡± I said angrily. The distorted words echoed from the seared Vessel. ¡°You will not hurt your brother.¡±


    My bond¡¯s aura gradually drifted away as he gnashed his teeth. ¡°So you want him to just go unpunishedfor all the death and destruction? You think he should just get away with it?¡±


    ¡°You know what I think and feel, Toren,¡± I snapped back. ¡°You can sense my very emotions. Do not put words into my mouth.¡±


    Behind Toren, Seris had moved over to the unconscious Viessa. The silver-haired Scythe grabbed her Truacian counterpart by her long hair, before hauling her away from the crater.


    Toren¡¯s smoldering eyes snapped to where Chul lay on the ground. His brother stared at my decimated relic with awe, fear, and hope. And as my bond saw those familiar emotions, he could not restrain himself from recalling when he had felt them in turn.


    It turned his burning fury sour.


    ¡°You talk to him, Aurora,¡± Toren muttered, turning on his heels. ¡°I can¡¯t stay in here. I need the sky, not this dark, angry fucking pit.¡±


    My bond distanced himself from me over our mental link, giving himself time to think as he followed after his nest mate. His hands clenched and unclenched as he fought for control of himself.


    I watched him go through the eyes of the decimated relic, my worry warring with my hope.


    They would be able to reconcile. I would make certain of it. Chul bore the weight of many sins, but Toren could see past the exteriors of people that clouded the judgment of others.


    He¡¯d done so with his lover. When I had warned him that the only truth of Seris Vritra was her schemes and plans, he had seen the shining gold that lay far below despite it all. He could do the same with his brother. He would be able to see all the gold. I just needed time to show it to him.


    And he had promised me. Toren kept his promises.


    ¡°Mother?¡± Chul¡¯s voice echoed out, weak, tired, and hopeful. ¡°Mother, is that you?¡±


    I turned, limping within the Vessel of my bronze form to observe my son again. The last time I had witnessed him, it had been in the fit of devastation and combat that had wrought fire and destruction across Burim. I had forced my errant child to calm down, to listen to what I had to say.


    And then the lavatides had erupted, tearing away any chance at speaking with him.


    It was such a strange thing. I had spent so long waiting for this reunion, but I had not considered what words I might say.


    ¡°Chul, my son,¡± I whispered from my deformed metal beak, feeling entirely unprepared. I felt the constraints of my metal shell more than ever. I wanted to become a woman again and wrap my son in my arms.


    He had grown so much. Were I still a being of flesh and blood, he would stand above even me in stature. I realized then, as I stared at the terrified and hopeful expression of the young man who bore my blood, that even if I were truly alive, I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold him anymore. I wouldn¡¯t be able to feel that strong heartbeat of his beneath his chest as he endlessly questioned me about the stars. It was denied to me by this cage.


    So instead, I hobbled forward, limping like a war veteran returning home. Chul¡¯s eyes watered with liquid fire as he watched me approach. His lip trembled as he struggled to speak through a throat choked by memories.


    But Chul had never been good with words. As a boy, he had been a person of action and deliberation. Ever stumbling forward, following his too-good heart.


    So when I wrapped my molten, broken wings around him in a gentle, brass-glinted embrace, he found the strength to hug me back. When his words failed him, the familiar act of taking comfort and warmth from my nest saw him through.


    ¡°I went looking for you,¡± Chul blubbered, tears sinking into my bronze facsimile. ¡°I wanted to find you. They all said you were dead.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± I whispered, ignoring the sensation of my soul burning from our embrace.


    ¡°They were in error. You¡¯re here. You yet live.¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°They shouldn¡¯t have left you. They should have all listened.¡±


    Molten tears fell from the edges of my eyes as the rest of the world fell away. For a moment, it was just me and my son. My little battling songbird, who I had taught nearly everything I knew. This wonderful impossibility, like a morning star in the sky. ¡°They should have.¡±


    ¡°I love you, Mother,¡± Chul sobbed, his knees trembling as he struggled not to collapse. ¡°I missed you. I missed you so much.¡±


    I love you.


    It had been so, so long since I had heard those words. So long since I¡¯d heard them said in that hopeful, cheery and emboldened voice. I could remember¡ªsomewhere distantly in the depths of my memory¡ªthis little boy, who had somehow become a man, echoing them with such truth and honesty.


    I remembered standing along our stream, our martial training winding down. I remembered how Andravhor had watched from the distant side, amused as he watched our son roll through the stream after a failed throw.


    ¡°If you keep putting your balance wholly on your lead leg when performing Rising Talon,¡± I remembered saying to the young chick before me, ¡°you¡¯ll always falter in the final push.¡±


    I had demonstrated such, casually sweeping my foot across my young child¡¯s knee. He¡¯d fallen with a cry into that stream within the Sunswept Glades, water splashing about us. Far to the side, Andravhor had laughed in deep amusement.


    ¡°Grace, Aurora,¡± he¡¯d said, lowering his beautiful blue eyes from the constellation map he¡¯d been roaming over. ¡°He needs grace. He isn¡¯t the warrior you are, not yet.¡±


    Chul had pulled his small body to his hands and knees, sputtering and coughing. I recalled smiling warmly, patting my little songbird on the back as he stared up at me with a pout.


    ¡°He will be the greatest of the Asclepius,¡± I had said with staunchest faith. ¡°He has the fire, Vhor.¡±


    And my little songbird¡¯s shoulders had drooped, the water flowing off of him. ¡°You really believe so?¡± he asked, looking up at me with those wonderful, perfect eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m¡­ weak. Uncle says that my core will never match those of Li-ae and Kel-nu and everyone else. And I cannot be a great bird like you. And when Father shows me his maps, I don¡¯t understand. I want to understand.¡±


    Andravhor had shut his book, stowing it away with some application of aether as I struggled to say something else. His attention had focused on our conversation more and more.


    ¡°You will understand,¡± I¡¯d said eventually, feeling angry that Morn would be so blunt with my son. He was selective with his subtleties. ¡°I am certain of it, my little battling songbird.¡±


    I¡¯d given Chul a hug, then. The kind I always did. The kind we shared now. And in the depths of my embrace, he had stared up at me, fearful and afraid. ¡°But I¡¯m still stupid,¡± he said quietly. ¡°The others all say so. I use the big words that they do, and they say I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    I¡¯d knelt in the stream, allowing the water to flow around us both as I lowered to Chul¡¯s level. ¡°You are perfect, my son,¡± I affirmed, laying my hands on his shoulders. ¡°You are perfect as you are. And even if you weren¡¯t, I would always love you.¡±


    Andravhor strolled over to us, his pinkish brow lighter than my own. He had a fire of his own, burning deep in his mana core, but it was of a different kind. ¡°Words mean only the intent behind them, Chul,¡± he said, kneeling in the stream too. His robes flowed around him as our small, young son stood between us. ¡°When they all tell you that your words are stupid and that you don¡¯t understand, that¡¯s just because they don¡¯t understand you. Big words, little words¡­ It¡¯s all arbitrary, son.¡±


    Five-year-old Chul had blinked in confusion. ¡°Arb¡ª Arbi¡­ Arbitrary?¡± he echoed, drawing out the ¡®y.¡¯


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    My husband had smiled then, recognizing how confused our son was at the errant bit of philosophizing. ¡°What I mean to say is that you can use whatever big words you want,¡± he said soothingly. ¡°And I daresay that the others are idiots for telling you not to.¡±


    Chul¡¯s shoulders had loosened then, the tension releasing from the reassurance. ¡°I love you,¡± he¡¯d said as Andravhor joined our little group hug. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna ever stop loving you.¡±


    The memory faded away back into the depths of my mind. I knew not when, but I realized that I had begun to sob, too. It was a broken, decrepit sound, like the grinding of steel and shearing of metal as it left my hollow throat. But still, it echoed through that empty vault, absorbed by the black diamond.


    ¡°I love you too, Chul,¡± I wheezed, still feeling so weak. So unable. ¡°I love you. I missed you so, so much.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know how much time we spent in that embrace, Chul sputtering nonsense as he tried to say more. Time seemed like a distant concept as memories of long-gone days in the Hearth swirled. Even with the events of the past few weeks, those could never be tainted. In each of them, my son¡¯s eyes shone with joy and love of life.


    But as I felt my soul burning, I knew I had to withdraw.


    I slowly pushed myself away from my son. Were I flesh and blood, perhaps I would note the lack of warmth. I knew not if that made the distance more painful.


    ¡°We must go,¡± Chul said hurriedly as he turned, stumbling to the side as his eyes took on a dark cast. ¡°The Foul Vritra keep you here, locked away. I have found you, and now I can return victorious to our clan. They will have a way to fix this. I am sure of it.¡±


    Our clan.


    Those words broke something in my heart nearly as much as his profession of love and care mended it.


    ¡°Chul,¡± I said quietly, my words distorted by my metal cage, ¡°we must talk.¡±


    ¡°We cannot converse in the depths of this accursed dungeon,¡± Chul asserted, his mind already veering toward combat. He stumbled, struggling to stay upright as he turned toward the broken vault door. ¡°The Vritra will listen and conspire. I will see you to safety, Mother. It is my duty.¡±


    The relic clicked and whirred in a disjointed rhythm, dawnlight steam leaking from the cracks. ¡°I am not a prisoner in the way you think I am, my son. You were¡­ deceived.¡±


    ¡°This, I understand!¡± Chul bellowed, turning around and frowning in uncertainty. ¡°Always, I was deceived. But now we are together, and we can flee. It is the way of things.¡±


    I looked my son up and down, my eyes lingering on the unhealing wounds left by Toren. I would see him heal those with his heartfire magic. ¡°No, Chul,¡± I said soothingly, turning toward the exit. ¡°Agrona did deceive you, true. But only in turning your mace to the wrong targets.¡±


    My young songbird blinked, confused. ¡°I do not comprehend your words, Mother.¡±


    Though I struggled to find the words to say to my son in the wake of our reunion, I had known from the start that if any progress were to be made, I needed to impress upon my son the nature of his errors.


    ¡°Grace, Aurora,¡± Andravhor¡¯s voice echoed in my mind. ¡°He needs grace.¡±


    ¡°The Retainer who spoke with Arthur Leywin spoke to you truly,¡± I said slowly into the darkness. ¡°It was he who was betrayed first, which led to your¡­ misunderstanding.¡±


    Chul stood still as a statue as my words reached him. ¡°I do not understand,¡± he echoed again, sensing the gravity in my voice. ¡°The Vritra are all liars and schemers, mother. The Retainer fought me, and I reaped his blood in vengeance. He sought to entrap me with lies.¡±


    ¡°Yet I am here, amongst the retinue of Seris Vritra,¡± I countered. Cylrit had spoken of his encounter with my son to Toren, so I knew precisely what had transpired on that accursed lake. ¡°My spirit is bound to Toren Daen, precisely as told. Cylrit was betrayed as much as you.¡±


    ¡°The Wraiths, Mother!¡± Chul retorted loudly, leaning against the wall to support his exhausted bulk. ¡°The Wraiths sought to slay me in a moment of weakness. They colluded together.¡±


    ¡°Try to slay you, certainly,¡± I agreed. ¡°Collude with the Retainer? That, they did not. The Retainer was forced by circumstance to align with those who would otherwise kill him for his master¡¯s plans,¡± I said quietly. ¡°And hush, my son. Do you think that if my survival were known to Agrona, he would allow me to act as I have? It is a secret known to few people. It is because of them that I escaped from Alacrya to this continent at all. And¡­ your mace was pointed towards those who assisted me. The Vritra are not all that you say they are. And neither is Toren.¡°


    Chul blinked several times, seeming to struggle to keep up with the stream of my words, tired as he was. ¡°Spellsong. You are bound to the Human Cage,¡± he said again. ¡°He keeps you trapped.¡±


    I sighed a mournful stream of dawnlight. If there were any god out in the aether, I realized that I could not fathom their cruelty. For such a belief to have entrenched itself within my son¡¯s heart¡­


    ¡°He is the only reason I yet persist and have not seen the Beyond,¡± I said quietly, my wings shivering. ¡°I was trapped in the depths of Agrona¡¯s dungeons, subject to his cruelty. And Agrona¡­ He took much from me. And when he had taken too much, I took a gambit for freedom. I threw my soul to the wind, hoping against hope for a solution. And¡­ Toren was what answered.¡±


    Chul worked his jaw, slumping against the wall. ¡°I do not understand,¡± he said quietly, looking defeatedly down at his hands. ¡°I do not grasp it as I should.¡±


    A familiar sorrow washed over me as my son engaged in his usual self-deprecation. I forced my Vessel¡¯s legs to trundle over toward Chul¡¯s exhausted form. ¡°I cannot blame you for such. It is a complicated story, my son. I am not sure I understand all of it myself.¡±


    ¡°This Spellsong¡ªToren Daen¡ªhe helped you reach your freedom?¡± Chul echoed, forcing himself back to his feet again. He could never afford to sit still, even when he was a chick. That fire burning inside of him compelled him to never stop, to always put one foot in front of the other.


    It was a wonderful, beautiful gift. But just as often, it proved itself a curse.


    ¡°He must be welcomed into our Hearth,¡± Chul declared vehemently, not quite having put together the situation. ¡°To act when no other shall is a virtue most rare! We will see him showered with gratitude!¡±


    My Vessel creaked and groaned as I shifted, suddenly feeling deeply exhausted. ¡°Chul, my young songbird¡­ That won¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°Whyever not?¡± he blurted, tilting his head sideways as he stared at me. ¡°This human acted justly! He saved you, did he not? How can that be unbefitting of all honors of the Clan?¡±


    He feels before he thinks. It was the nature of all phoenixes, to be true, but I had never been there when Chul needed me so that I might impress upon him the ability to think before he spoke. He feels it with all his heart, and there is no room for anything else.


    My relic shook as I failed to suppress the wrenching memories of Burim¡¯s Breaking. I wanted to remain strong and authoritative for my son, but the flashes of fire and the blood that had been spilled still sunk far, far too deep into my soul. I remembered how every touch of my son caused my very soul to burn away. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Agrona¡¯s torment, while horrendous, had always had a level of¡­ apathy. When his tendrils dug and tore at my mind, they did so with a more grand, overarching purpose than cruelty. He wanted the location of my Hearth, not so that he could hurt me, but so that he could remove a variable in his war games with Kezess.


    His actions were a means to an end.


    But everything that had happened in Burim¡­ It felt cruel. It felt like there was a hand at play somewhere, guiding the world towards pain and misery. I could almost imagine some demented hand of Fate nudging events towards catastrophe, taunting me and Toren for trying to make things better. Why else would my sons seek to kill each other, with me unable to intervene?


    ¡°When you first met your brother, how¡­ how did you react, my son?¡± I asked, struggling to force the words out. I needed to be calm. I needed my voice to never waver. But the relic betrayed me, turning my words into a jumbled mess of pained octaves.


    Chul opened his mouth to say something, his chest puffed out in his usual, boisterous way.


    But then he froze. And deep in his pure-lake blue and sunfire orange eyes, I could see when the events that had landed him in this vault all rushed back into his head.


    My presence had kept him occupied. I¡¯d stopped him from thinking. But as every ounce of color drained from his face, leaving him pale as a corpse, I could see that everything slotted back into place.


    He hadn¡¯t just assaulted the very few beings who cared to try and make this world a better place in Seris and Cylrit. Thousands of dwarves and men had died in the burning wake of the lavatides.


    But among all of those, there was one act that drove a knife deep into his heart. He had tried to murder his brother. And by extension, he had tried to kill me, too.


    Chul¡¯s breath came in short, panicked gasps as he spun, slamming a meaty fist into the black diamond walls. If he were at his full strength, the wall would have shattered with casual ease.


    But weakened as he was, he only bloodied his knuckles across the impossibly hard material. And as his blood splattered against that surface, he roared in distraught anger, his cries shaking the underground. One. Two. Three. Four. He slammed fist after fist after fist into the wall, splattering blood across the reflective surface.


    I did not intervene.


    On and on and on he went, his breath heaving as tears welled up in his eyes anew. There was no form in any of his attacks, no care or reverence for the martial peak. No¡ªthis was simply the actions of a boy lashing out in helpless rage.


    The fire that burned in his chest fueled each of his blows. Until there was nothing left of the skin on his hands. Until the bones started to break, too. Until his screams of fury couldn¡¯t be distinguished from his sobs of horror.


    And finally, when he had wrung himself ragged, he collapsed to his knees, slamming his balled fists against the ground.


    ¡°I just wanted to help,¡± he said between breaths. ¡°Why? Why must I break everything? I did not wish for this. I wished for the good people to live free of the Vritra¡¯s tyranny, not¡­ not¡­¡±


    His blood pooled around him, red and sad. His angry punches had agitated the unhealing cuts given by Toren, causing them to weep in chorus with all the lives lost in that tragedy.


    I shuffled closer to the boy trembling on the stones, his broken fists weak. ¡°I know it was not your intent,¡± I offered somberly. ¡°I know it was not what you wanted, my songbird.¡±


    Chul turned up to me, his eyes halfway between hope and despair. Before, I had thought of how much older he¡¯d looked, with his grown physique and boisterous laugh. But now, he looked as much a child as he ever had been, looking for answers from his mother. ¡°I must fix this,¡± he declared weakly. ¡°I must make right the things that I have broken. It can be done. It must be.¡±


    For the first time, I allowed the Vessel Form of mine to shrink. I drifted free of the relic, a shade once more.


    When first I had shown myself before Chul, he had been unable to see me. I had been just a ghost, a spirit with no voice. And then had come the pain of the Brand.


    But as I slowly stood over my son in my spectral dress, I felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. Because somewhere¡ªbetween the utter horror of his fight with Toren, or perhaps the bond we had reignited¡ªhe could see me. His eyes widened ever-further, the red puffiness around their edges eclipsed by every emotion swirling within.


    Love. Fear. Hope. And horror.


    Because I wasn¡¯t the phoenix he remembered from his childhood. There was a great, gaping hole where my spirit¡¯s heart should have been, sacrificed as it was to grant Toren his lineage. His eyes lingered there for a time, silently aghast by the state of my tattered and worn martial robes.


    And when his eyes tracked to my spectral skin, he saw. Chul could see the burn scars marring every inch of my phantasmal skin, tracing all the way to the Brand on my throat.


    The brand that marked me as banished. That told my son that we were no longer of the same clan.


    ¡°Some things cannot be mended, my son,¡± I said softly, my eyes dimming. ¡°There are some things that, when broken, can never be put back together.¡±


    ¡°Cannot be mended¡­ Mother, what¡­ What sort of cruel punishment is this?¡± he whispered, looking at me as if I had stepped from the pits of the damned. ¡°Why was this done to you? This mark on your spirit¡ªno, it does not¡ª¡±


    ¡°I will tell you why I am the way I am,¡± I soothed, cutting across Chul¡¯s angry and pained rant. ¡°Patience. Patience.


    ¡°Your brother and I went to the Hearth, Chul. We went there to call a Forum, because we had determined that the time for the Asclepius to remain sheltered, oblivious to the pain of the humans and elves and dwarves caught between this world¡¯s twin tyrants, was due to end.¡±


    I looked down at my hands, wanting so much to reach out and hold my son. But I knew that any touch might see me greet the Beyond again. ¡°We failed.¡±


    ¡°So you were banished?¡± Chul snarled, his rage rising again. He could not seem to move from the place where he knelt, but I could sense the desire swelling within him. ¡°I will see this act abolished!¡±


    I exhaled through my nose, kindling a twin sort of anger in tune with my son. But it couldn¡¯t burn and rage like his. No, this was a cold, detached sort of fury.


    Mordain could have taken action at any point. Before, during, or after. With his magic, he could have found a way to prevent all of this tragedy. But his fear kept him bound and caged in chains of his own making.


    I had always looked up to him as wise and knowing. His word was the one to follow, the light on the path. When the night seemed dark, his was a star I could follow.


    But stars¡ªby their nature¡ªwere distant, faraway things. It did no good to rely on the constellations for light when they kept such a distance.


    ¡°It is the Will of the Clan,¡± I declared solemnly, my teeth clenched. ¡°Those of the Asclepius will not intervene in the war between Agrona and Kezess.¡±


    I suspected that Mordain would be sending a message to Chul, soon. Or perhaps he was allowing me this piece, knowing that anything he said would only send his nephew into a justified rage?


    ¡°So Toren and I¡­ We took the option allowed to us. The Will of the Clan binds those of the Clan alone,¡± I said with finality.


    Chul looked up at me with something I could not decipher. His eyes were not blank and empty¡ªthey could never be empty¡ªbut there was something hollow inside. ¡°Uncle persists in his cowardice,¡± my son said. ¡°He insists that his is the only right way. It is foolishness of the highest order, even so far as to banish the only one who has ever suffered for the good of us all.¡±


    I slowly knelt, taking the time to situate my feet beneath me. I could not feel the black diamond beneath my metaphysical boots, but imagining the sensation helped to center me and the unsteady fire that burned in my soul.


    ¡°You asked if there was a way to make right on all you have done, my son. I can offer you a way. Me, you, and Toren¡­ We are all that can fight for the good of our flock and the world beyond, even if they do not know it. Even if the price is the flock itself.¡±


    A tremor went through Chul¡¯s body. ¡°This is wrong,¡± he muttered. ¡°I know not what is right. But this is wrong. To be forced to choose between two pains such as this.¡±


    I lowered my head, my feather-red hair settling over my shoulders as the Unseen breeze relented in its grasp of each lock. ¡°I wish that you would not have such a choice laid before you, my little songbird. Nobody should have to make such choices for the world. But such is the world before us. One where, even when we are so very burned, we rise again.¡±


    I exhaled a deep breath. ¡°But no matter what you choose, I will still love you, Chul. Should you return to our flock deep in the Beast Glades and spend the rest of your days with those we love, I will still love you, too. But it is your choice to make. An evil, horrid choice. But yours.¡±


    Chul reached out a hand to my shade, but as I shied away, he let it drop.


    ¡°This is so very cruel,¡± Chul repeated again, an oath deep inside. ¡°that you should be so burned Mother. It is unfair. It is unjust and wrong.¡±


    Tears blurred at the edges of his vision, a child unable to hold his mother¡¯s hand. And seeing that¡ªseeing how my wounds hurt him, too¡ªI felt my rage reignite. That anger at the World, anger at Fate.


    How dare this World take so much from us? I thought, raising a hand. I brushed away my son¡¯s tears, even as the pads of my fingers smoked and my brand started to burn. He shied away, about to cry out in horror, but I cut him off. By all the deva, it hurt. It hurt so very much.


    But my little battling songbird was worth any pain. He was worth any misery, any sorrow, any hardship.


    ¡°I was destined to die, Chul,¡± I whispered, ruffling his hair and persisting through the pain. ¡°Fated to an end in Agrona¡¯s dungeons. In another world, I would never get to see you again. I would never get to know your brother. And I would never see my family. Banished I may be, but what is that torment compared to eternal capture? Was I not exiled before?¡±


    I raised my arms to the side, gesturing to myself as I sought to raise my little chick from his nest. ¡°So often has Fate tried to reclaim its prize. Vindictive and cruel, it is, trying to tear us apart. Set things back along a path where we are never family. But the apathy of this universe does not understand suffering, despite what it inflicts upon us. Because this pain we feel¡ªit is our fuel. Our fire, that brings us to life every day.¡±


    It felt so much as if the World were attempting to reap its due once more, rip me back toward death. I had defied its clutches once, and so the Reaper came. Trying to break me. Trying to break my children. But in that life I could have lived¡ªthat very dungeon of torment I would have been condemned to, in another timeline¡ªI would not have suffered this agony, true.


    But neither would I have seen my Chul again. Neither would I have met Toren, brought him beneath my wing. And even as they fought and bickered, there was so much that had otherwise been impossible. So much sunlight, even as the night insisted upon itself.


    ¡°Fated¡­¡± Chul muttered, shoulders slumping as he sniffled. ¡°Does what I want mean anything, in the face of such things?¡±


    I chuckled lightly, moving my forehead ever-so-close to my son. Not close enough to touch, but enough that he knew I was here. ¡°What you want means everything, my little chick,¡± I whispered, my words a song in the silence.


    ¡°I want to be in the Sunswept Glades,¡± he finally muttered, staring at his blood-soaked knuckles. ¡°I want to be small and weak again, splashing in the stream. I would not be burdened with such sin. I want to be light and free.¡±


    A soft smile slowly stretched across my face. ¡°I do, too,¡± I said quietly, reminiscing on old memories. ¡°But in the Hearth, one cannot stretch their wings and soar. It is denied to us.¡±


    ¡°When I left, I did not know which direction to fly,¡± Chul replied quietly. ¡°Everything was so great and vast. I could not fathom it all.¡±


    ¡°You did begin to fathom it though, did you not?¡±


    My son was quiet for a time as his sins continued to weigh on his shoulders. He had not moved from where he knelt, but for the first time, he turned his face to the heavens.


    ¡°I endeavored to watch the Aurora Constellate,¡± he said with unsubtle wonder. ¡°You and Father told me of the origins of my wondrous name. The Chulsen Star Cluster, only visible during the rare display of astronomical beauty that would paint the sky in valiant blues and greens. Father had me memorize it, long ago.¡±


    Not long ago, Toren and I had gazed up at that very same cluster as I told him this story. It was a strange thing to think about, that in some distant reach of the continent, his brother had been under the same stars.


    I nodded slowly, feeling a paradoxical sort of contentment deep in my breast. ¡°What did you think of them?¡±


    ¡°They were small,¡± he said honestly, his voice a low mumble. ¡°I thought they would be of a grand and vast nature, but no spectacle was to be had.¡±


    I chuckled lightly, a motherly sort of warmth rising in my chest that smothered my worries and fears for this short moment. ¡°We didn¡¯t name you for the Chulsen Cluster because it is grand and vast,¡± I said gently. ¡°We named you as such because of that rare, impossible window of time. A short moment that becomes perfection in the light of the afterglow.¡±


    Chul shifted, some of the sins on his shoulders forgotten for this short moment, too. In that dark, horrendous vault¡ªso close to the one that had held me for ages under the High Sovereign¡¯s whims¡ªI found a bit of that light of hope in my soul again.


    Perhaps Toren had found his spark in defying the pantheon and rescuing his lover¡¯s Retainer from the jaws of death, but then I had still been a broken shell. I could not see a way forward, stripped as I was of the stars to guide my way.


    But as Chul and I slowly talked, and I told stories to him once again, I found that perhaps¡ªjust maybe¡ªthere was hope out there. There might be a light that could see us through.

 Chapter 295: A Story Told

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    Cylrit was there nearly immediately as I stalked out of the vault, no doubt because of the rumbling of my aura and how I¡¯d slammed Viessa into the vault floor. He suspected a fight of some sort and he was ready to throw himself into the metaphorical fire that could have erupted down below.


    When the stalwart Retainer witnessed his master hauling Viessa Vritra out by her purple hair, trailing blood and unconscious, he didn¡¯t even hesitate.


    ¡°Master,¡± he said, bending the knee, ¡±what must I do?¡±


    Seris¡¯ cool gaze passed over her Retainer, something there still disturbed by my actions in the vault. ¡°Scythe Viessa encountered¡­ complications,¡± she said, voicing the greatest understatement ever spoken aloud. ¡°See that she is cared for before she awakes.¡±


    Cylrit raised his head, opening his mouth to speak. When he saw the shadow marring my expression, however, he became more solemn.


    I didn¡¯t stay for their ensuing short conversation. I couldn¡¯t stay for their conversation, not with the confusion and rage festering in my soul.


    I swept past them, my aura pulsing like a distant star. Up and up I ascended the stairwell like a soldier marching to war. Each step of my boots on the stones sent my sound magic through the earth, Sonar Pulse returning me a detailed overview of the castle.


    I tuned out the terrified pulses of the distant soldiers¡¯ heartbeats. I snuffed out my sense of their terror as I struggled to contain my emotions.


    Up and up and up I ascended, like a mortal man climbing towards the heavens in an act of utter hubris. My feet moved on their own, each step like the routine piston movement within an engine. I used the fuel of my anger and shame to push those pistons. Up, down. Up, down.


    And suddenly, I was beneath the sky.


    The night still gripped the world as I stood atop the castle ramparts. Her shadows stretched far and wide like rippling black silk across countless plains. To the north, just across the winding Sehz, I could see the Dicathian camps. Their cookfires sparkled merrily in the night, each like little fireflies captured from the night and superimposed over the vast canvas of the world. The light of artifacts and campfires stretched around this simple bastion far into the blackness, denying Night her due.


    And high above, clouds blanketed out the stars.


    I gritted my teeth in anger, my shrouded wings growing around me. They shivered with crystalline refractions as the torches across the ramparts cast light through them.


    I bent my knees, glaring up at those clouds. And in an instant, I flew.


    Up and up and up I went again, trying to capture that sense of vindictive pride and certainty I¡¯d embraced when I¡¯d fought Taci. The clouds had been my stepstools and my allies then, another visitor in my domain. But as the air burned around me and the sound barrier broke from my ascent, I could only see them as an obstacle.


    I punched through them, water streaming off my shroud as I gnashed my teeth. The wind whipped and pulled at my long hair, creating a tapestry of golden blonde behind me. Higher and higher and higher I went, demanding the ambient mana take me above. Above all of this, where I didn¡¯t have to worry about it all. Where I didn¡¯t have to think about Aurora¡¯s relic connected to me far below. Where I didn¡¯t have to think about how she was talking with her son.


    With my brother.


    I emerged from the blanket of the clouds, finally able to feel the welcoming breath of the moon on my face. That distant body had just started in its journey towards fullness, and its light was a pale reflection of the sun.


    And the stars¡ªthere were so, so many of them. So many stars, all twinkling merrily and with their own light.


    The wind pulled at the clouds below me, drawing them on toward a destination I couldn¡¯t comprehend. But I hovered there in the sky, my wings splayed out as I felt it building in my chest.


    The actions I¡¯d taken against Viessa burned in the back of my skull. I had torn at her mind in a manner I had only ever known Agrona to do.


    Aurora and I had acted together, then. Our minds had melded and meshed in a way we had not experienced since that pinnacle in the Hearth, where we¡¯d managed true equilibrium. And the rage that boiled from the depths of my soul had been just as true and scalding as my bond¡¯s.


    Because some part of me¡ªwhen I had seen that illusion of a corpse¡ªhad seen Norgan.


    He doesn¡¯t deserve that spot in my soul, I seethed. Norgan had been my brother. He had been there for me, my partner in crime and best friend and everything. When everyone in my life had been gone, Norgan alone had been by my side in East Fiachra, working tirelessly with me for years. Our bond had been built upon sweat and blood.


    Memories flickered in the back of my mind, returning me to one particular day. Trelza, stone-faced like a statue, had released me early, determining I was unfit to continue working that day. I remembered leaving the East Fiachran clinic, stumbling over my feet, my face pale.


    He was right. Because someone we had been trying to save had died under our care.


    I couldn¡¯t remember the man¡¯s face, what he looked like, or even his name. Only how my hand shook as Trelza¡¯s cold, emotionless voice announced his death, and that there was nothing else we could do.


    I¡¯d nearly fallen in the canals of Fiachra on my way home. And when I¡¯d finally reached the doors of our simple apartment, I had collapsed onto my bed.


    And Norgan had stopped his training. His brow furrowed as he sensed that something was amiss. I¡¯d stared up at the ceiling emptily for an hour, just¡­ processing it all. Processing that I had failed. That a life was no longer in this world, and it was my fault.


    Norgan hadn¡¯t spoken. He knew¡ªbrothers as we were¡ªthat speaking wasn¡¯t what was needed. What use were words like ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay?¡± Nothing would make that man¡¯s death okay. Nothing would make the loss of life okay.


    And he had understood that. Because he knew me. Because he was my brother.


    What fucking right did Chul¡ªmurdering, genocidal, bastard¡ªhave to take that spot in my mind? What Fate-damned reason did he have to evoke memories of someone far better than he would ever be?


    Those emotions didn¡¯t belong to him. All he had ever done was take. And now he was taking my one solace away from me.


    I erupted with a rabid roar that made the very clouds shiver around me. Sound magic flooded from me as I imposed every ounce of my anger upon the world around me. Resonant Flow pulsed, my veins alighting with heartfire as I professed my pent-up emotions.


    The clouds parted from the expulsion of power, my body burning like a star as fires churned around me. My voice slowly grew ragged and broken, no longer a demon¡¯s warcry.


    When it was done, I felt like I had vomited up the very seas themselves. Despite this, my mouth was drier than the deserts of Darv below. I heaved for breath, my heart aching as the lights simmered away. My shoulders slumped as I continued to stare up at the moon.


    ¡°Does it help any? Yelling like that?¡± a familiar, feminine voice asked from not far away. ¡°Does it release the burden on your shoulders?¡±


    The wind blew harder for a moment, the breeze dragging her soft fingers across my face.


    I didn¡¯t turn away from the waxing crescent moon high above, its cool light soothing some of my aches and pains. ¡°Sometimes it does,¡± I admitted, my voice hoarse. ¡°But it¡¯s not really working right now.¡±


    Seris perched upon the clouds themselves, the wind pulling on the silver silk of her hair. The barest touch of the starlight high above reflected against her pale skin alluringly this high in the clouds. Her horns were nearly invisible in the night, only illuminated by the breath of the moon. She looked like some sort of storybook phantom, emerging from the highest clouds to bestow prophecies upon unwary travelers.


    She didn¡¯t say anything, the high wind pulling at her dark dress. Neither of us spoke as we stared up at the stars.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to leave,¡± I admitted. ¡°I can¡¯t go back to Alacrya when this war is over. I can¡¯t ever go back, not until I¡¯m powerful enough.¡±


    Agrona wanted something from me. Part of me felt like half of this war had been designed with me at the center, an unwitting pawn. And with Rinia¡¯s warnings and how Sylvie had barely spared me from the intervention of a true god, it was growing clearer than ever.


    ¡°Where will you go?¡± Seris asked, her voice quiet and sorrowful. She was brilliant. A genius of the highest caliber I had ever encountered. She didn¡¯t contest that I needed to leave, just asked me how.


    I clenched my hands, my eyes searching the distant cosmos. For some reason that none could comprehend, only the Aurora Constellate revealed the distant Chulsen Cluster. And no matter how much mana I imbued into my eyes, I couldn¡¯t pierce whatever veil kept it hidden from mortal eyes.


    Me, Chul, and our mother, I thought, gritting my teeth as I recalled the bare bones of the plan I¡¯d been concocting. We can hide.


    I withdrew a single item from my dimension ring. The silver djinni medallion, as big as my palm and glinting as it absorbed the starlight, floated about me under the weaves of my telekinetic magic.


    With a bare effort of will, it drifted over to the distant Scythe. When it settled in her hands, she ran pale fingers over its intricate etchings, her silver brow rising with that inquisitive nature I loved so much.


    ¡°A relic of the ancient mages,¡± she said with intrigue. ¡°Another secret you¡¯ve kept from me?¡±


    The words lacked any scorn or judgment, but I felt the sting of them nonetheless. The memory of Seris¡¯ demands to see my notebook¡ªthat catalog of future knowledge¡ªresurfaced in the back of my mind.


    I forcibly quelled it, unable to bear that knowledge, too.


    ¡°In another potential future¡ªone that has long since been banished to the wind¡ªthat relic facilitated the magical transfer of people to an ancient mage sanctuary. It would keep me safe. Me, and others who need protection from the asura, until I have the strength to fight back.¡± I paused, feeling something akin to shame. ¡°And I didn¡¯t keep that from you. I was given it by the Seer, Elder Rinia, when I infiltrated the Dicathians¡¯ flying castle.¡±


    Seris¡¯ fingers closed around the medallion. ¡°How close do you think you are to acquiring the power you will need?¡±


    The way she said the words¡ªthe controlled mask that layered itself over the buried emotion¡ªmade something in me shift and creak.


    I turned in the sky, facing the Scythe more fully. I stared at the woman as she hung there, her emotions a messy collage over her intent. She didn¡¯t know what to feel, I realized. She kept her face serene and careful, the utmost depiction of a Scythe. But there were cracks, here and there. Her fingers clenched a bit too hard around the medallion. Her heart beat a little too much out of rhythm. Her lips remained parted, as if to call out or add another word that she feared she¡¯d forgotten.


    I took the time to really look at her. As weaves of misty clouds danced about her dark dress, it seemed like she was a part of them alone. I could imagine that water vapor rising and swallowing her whole, the Scythe dissolving into the world. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Integration¡­ that is the key. I don¡¯t know what it will entail. I don¡¯t know how powerful I¡¯ll be after I reach the next stage, either. Will I need to hunker down and train? Will I continue to grow so quickly? I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡±


    That lack of knowing scared me. I¡¯d been so reassured in my knowledge of the future. The idea that I could know. But no longer could I count on such.


    I narrowed my eyes a bit as I observed the flow of mana about and around the Scythe. She was using mana rotation, one of the keys to the highest stage of magic. ¡°I think you¡¯re closer to the same plateau than you think, too,¡± I said, uncertain if the words would be a comfort or a detriment. Agrona would never suffer his tools to reach levels of power that could allow them to resist him.


    And if Seris were close to Integration, too¡­


    ¡°Everything¡¯s coming to a head. It does not feel as if it has been a scant six months since this war started in earnest,¡± Seris said softly. She hesitated for a second, as if watching a blazing fire. Then she steeled herself, and strolled along the clouds toward me.


    When she finally reached me, she threaded an arm through mine with casual, easy grace. The Scythe busied herself with staring up at the stars alongside me, medallion clutched in her other hand. ¡°I will need to accelerate my plans by decades at the very minimum,¡± she muttered to herself, her fingers lacing through mine. ¡°This is incredibly frustrating. I expected to have much more time to prepare for the inevitable, but you just had to ruin it all.¡±


    Her pink lips turned down into an ever-so-slightly annoyed frown, her intent radiating with annoyance and resignation. ¡°And you seem so certain that we will part in the near future for an indeterminate time.¡±


    Seris¡¯ fingers¡ªwhich had been softly running over the scars on the top of my hand¡ªsuddenly tensed, digging into my skin. Her intent warped with something deeper than her earlier annoyance, and I could not tell if it was feigned or true.


    The Scythe held my hand in a vise grip, turning her chin up as she gazed at me with dark eyes. ¡°Do you think you can escape us so simply?¡±


    I chuckled at the intensity of Seris¡¯ emotions, turning so I was facing her more directly. A slow smile stretched across my face as I wrapped my shrouded wings around us, sheltering us from the wind. ¡°I¡¯m confident in hiding away from Agrona and Kezess,¡± I said, leaning forward slightly. ¡°But I¡¯m not an idiot. I know I can¡¯t hide from you, should you decide to chase me.¡±


    Seris pressed her forehead to mine, both of us settling in the moment. ¡°You still know your place,¡± she said quietly. She closed her eyes, her lips curving into that predatory, contented smile of hers. ¡°I worried that fighting gods might make you forget it.¡±


    I nodded slightly, as if these words were the wisest in the universe. ¡°Of course,¡± I said in good nature, feeling my earlier anger and sorrow and turbulence slowly settle under the slow rhythm of Seris¡¯ heart. ¡°Out of curiosity, though, however would you chase me?¡±


    Seris opened her eyes, inspecting my hopeful ones. The way the moonlight cast itself across her pale lips made it a bit difficult to focus on what I needed to. The Scythe was evidently amused by my distraction as her eyes turned into satisfied crescent moons. ¡°This artifact of the ancient mages¡­ Similar things have been discovered before. They are the basis for tempus warps across Alacrya.¡±


    She shuffled slightly, raising her hand between us and pressing the medallion close to her chest. ¡°If I am cautious and intelligent, then I may be able to key a tempus warp to these spatial coordinates.¡±


    My heart skipped a beat.


    ¡°And because you are cautious and very intelligent, that would mean I wouldn¡¯t be stranded there,¡± I said with immediate realization. ¡°Meaning¡ª¡±


    ¡°You would be unable to hide from me,¡± Seris interrupted. She blinked slowly in a way that accentuated how the pale moonlight was split by her lashes. ¡°Correct?¡±


    I coughed slightly. ¡°I was going to say¡ª¡±


    Seris¡¯ hand moved up to my shirt lapel. She grasped it tightly, pulling me a bit closer as a little spark burned in the back of her eyes. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I was going to agree with you, of course,¡± I amended, recognizing a fight I could not win no matter how powerful a mage I became. ¡°That is certainly what I was going to say.¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s eyes narrowed. I put on my most annoying smirk.


    Sufficiently irritated by the overly smug look I¡¯d plastered on my face, Seris scoffed, turning away as a slight blush worked its way to her pale cheeks. ¡°Regardless of all this¡­ It is all coming to an end, soon. I can taste it on the wind.¡±


    My smile slowly fell as Seris pushed away from me. I felt as her mood was broken by something I didn¡¯t understand, the pieces of it falling through my fingers like raindrops into the clouds far below.


    The Scythe paced in the sky, the clouds swirling about her as she struggled to contain her growing agitation. There was something there, a strange mirror to my earlier pent-up emotions. ¡°Cadell is off fulfilling his master¡¯s wishes. I don¡¯t know precisely what he¡¯s doing, but I doubt he is anywhere within Darv. My sensors would have alerted me if he stayed too long within the dwarven kingdom.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°Then that means he isn¡¯t near Nico. If he isn¡¯t near Nico, then the reincarnate is open right now.¡±


    ¡°You will have your chance at the Anchor soon,¡± Seris replied quietly. ¡°Nico is impatient and rash, as is his nature. He has been placed so, so close to his goal, but he is bound by an inability to act. And unless he possesses your interference, he cannot hope to strike at Tessia Eralith.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll grant him my assistance, with the promise that I¡¯ll break the Lance tether?¡± I asked, following her line of thought.


    Seris waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Absolutely not,¡± she said, utterly derailing what I had been suspecting. ¡°That would be foolish.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Then how is this going to go? You see much farther in this than I do.¡±


    The Scythe sighed, a good-natured kind of faux disappointment lacing her tone. ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°Nico will act rashly. It is not a matter of if, but of when. Interacting with you a day past has only exacerbated that. He¡¯s a man with an itch that needs to be scratched, and he¡¯ll never be able to scratch it. He¡¯s going to make a mistake.And when he makes that critical mistake, that is when you will have your chance.¡±


    I would have my chance.


    I¡¯d see to it that the Legacy would never descend.


    I clenched my hands, then unclenched them. Plots within plots within plots wove around me, each and every one seeming beyond my control. When I thought for too long, I felt like a bird amidst currents of air that did not belong to me, each breath of wind pushing me toward an ever-approaching Fate I could not control.


    ¡°Things have changed so much from what I expected,¡± I mumbled, looking back down toward the clouds. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how much certainty that gave me until I lost it.¡±


    I didn¡¯t look at Seris, but I could sense her attention. I knew on some level that she had been guiding our conversation this way with those subtle manipulations of hers.


    ¡°In this future knowledge of yours, the Legacy did descend?¡± Seris queried, doing her best to sound utterly uninterested in the prospect. ¡°I assume so, considering how certain you were of their danger.¡±


    Seris was becoming less and less blatant with her little prods, now. And besides, I could taste her desire and uncertainty over her intent. I had the answers to the questions she held deep in her soul.


    ¡°You are a sly sorceress, Seris,¡± I mused with a dry laugh. ¡°Sly, indeed.¡±


    With a bare flourish of mana, I withdrew my notebook from my dimension ring. The leather was old and worn, showing a great deal of love and care. The outdated version of the sigil of Named Blood Daen was stamped proudly in the bottom corner, the runes leaking from the dagger professing its truth.


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    Seris tensed imperceptibly as her eyes alighted upon the cover, her gaze flashing. She raised a hand, then lowered it slightly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what this knowledge can do for you anymore, Seris,¡± I said honestly. ¡°Too much has changed. I can give it to you, but¡­¡±


    I considered all the existential implications of the little notebook in my hands. How would most people react if they knew their very thoughts and emotions and desires had been put to the page in another world? Some would go mad, questioning their free will. Others might ignore it entirely, or chalk it up to coincidence of some impossible sort.


    But within this book, I held knowledge that shouldn¡¯t exist. That couldn¡¯t exist. If Seris saw this, what would she think of herself?


    My fingers clenched around the pages.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it would be good for you to read it, Seris. Even Aurora still suffers from the questions it brings her.¡±


    Seris drifted closer to me again, her lips pursed as she looked me over. She absorbed every inch of me¡ªmy tensed shoulders, my nervous stare, my bone-white fingers as they clutched that notebook.


    ¡°You are still a poor liar, Toren,¡± she said slowly. She raised a hand, brushing a lock of my golden hair to the side. ¡°You don¡¯t hesitate because of that, do you?¡±


    I chewed on my lip, struggling to meet Seris¡¯ eyes.


    Because she was right. It wasn¡¯t just about some faux concern about her wellbeing. That was a justification. An excuse to push everything away. But the Scythe never permitted excuses.


    ¡°This is all that¡¯s left,¡± I admitted weakly. ¡°This is the last¡­ piece of the puzzle, you might say.¡±


    I swallowed, feeling a strange sort of pain from acknowledging these deep, underlying truths. Smoke seemed to claw at my lungs as I struggled and failed to deny the truth of why I wanted to keep this little book hidden.


    If Seris were to read my journal, I would have no more secrets for her. Nothing truly. All the puzzle pieces that had drawn her to me would be finally assembled. The puzzle she¡¯d enjoyed crafting in her mind would come to an end, at last.


    And when that was done, would she still care? The drive and chase would be gone. Would she cast me aside like a toy that had lost its luster? Would I become a gadget that was no longer interesting? Those were stupid, foolish questions. I knew she wouldn¡¯t. But she would¡­.


    She might understand me. That thing I had craved for so very long. Alluring and terrifying. I wouldn¡¯t be Spellsong, a bringer of fire and hope. I wouldn¡¯t be the master musician, a symphony for the people. I wouldn¡¯t be this grand star in her sky.


    I would be¡­ just a man. Just a person. A lucky man who in another life had been nobody special.


    It was a pathetic thing for me to be scared of. I was Spellsong. The soul and understanding were my domains, and yet I feared this small, silver slice of the distant moon catching a glimpse of me?


    Seris absorbed every ounce of my indecision, her mask slowly falling as her face morphed into one of sympathy.


    Her hand¡ªwhich had been reaching for my face¡ªretreated back to her side. A silence stretched between us as I held onto that asura-forsaken notebook like a sinner clings to a bible.


    The Scythe turned away from me. ¡°I think I understand,¡± she said softly.


    That¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of, I thought, but did not say. That¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of.


    ¡°I am so accustomed to racing after every piece of these puzzles, Toren,¡± she muttered, barely audible this high in the sky. ¡°So accustomed to just¡­ clawing each one together. It is rare that I consider what might truly be once I reach that end.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond, still struggling with the decision. I wanted to give her this notebook. I wanted to. But I was so¡­ scared. So mortal. So human. So my hands stuck fast to that leather.


    ¡°I do not remember anything akin to a childhood,¡± Seris said abruptly. The words¡ªuttered so simply¡ªhalted the train of my thoughts, derailing them completely and utterly.


    ¡°Huh?¡± I blurted with supreme intelligence, blinking in surprise as Seris¡¯ emotions churned around her like a stirring pot.


    ¡°I think I was quite clear,¡± Seris retorted, sounding ever-so-slightly agitated. ¡°I do not remember anything like a childhood.¡±


    Seris¡¯ fingers didn¡¯t twitch, but I could see how the muscles on her thin, petite form flexed. Her mana and intent whirled about her at her clear reluctance to speak, each note punctuated with shadows upon shadows upon shadows.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just shut up for a minute,¡± Seris interrupted. ¡°Please, just let me¡­ let me talk. I need to. For your sake, and for mine.¡±


    Seris perched atop a throne of clouds, staring up at the moon. Her breath frosted in the chill air, her eyes distant. ¡°I can remember nothing before the manifestation of my Vritra blood,¡± she admitted, lost in memories. ¡°The first thing I remember is white walls. A white room. Kneeling in a pool of my own blood, barely at the age of six. And after that¡­¡±


    The woman visibly shuddered. ¡°Sovereign Orlaeth was there. He was always there, poking and prodding and tearing at my mind. He did something to me there, Toren, as I grew in those cells under his experimentation. ¡®A Vritra in a lesser¡¯s shell,¡¯ he would always mutter when he looked at my mind.¡±


    Silence reigned above the world for a time. Horror and disgust rose in the back of my throat. ¡°Seris, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    The Scythe shrugged, as if trying to let my words brush by her. ¡°Do not be. He was right.¡±


    ¡°No, he couldn¡¯t have¡ª¡±


    Then Seris turned to look at me, and her pupils were dark. Darker and emptier than anything I had ever seen, save for one horrendous being. And as I stared into Seris¡¯ eyes, remembering the mocking scarlet of another¡¯s cruel gaze within a decrepit Cathedral, I stiffened in instinctive fear. My hackles rose subconsciously as I beheld something that wanted nothing more than to just¡­ pick me apart. Cut and rend and tear at my flesh without a care as it sought to understand. It hungered to know in the same way a hole swallows all thrown down into it. I looked into a gorging, unending pit. It wrapped around me, like a constricting hydraulic press as it slowed the pulse of my heart.


    It didn¡¯t end. It never ended, that hole. That need and desire and want for more understanding.


    And then it was gone, receding back somewhere else. I exhaled a breath I hadn¡¯t known I¡¯d been holding back, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. I hadn¡¯t even noticed it, but a shrouded saber now sat in my hands.


    I let it dissipate hastily, disgusted that I would even hold such a thing between Seris and I. And to my shame, I could not conjure the words I should say next.


    Seris inspected me with sad eyes as I struggled to form a response. I needed to reassure her, somehow. To tell her that this wasn¡¯t what she was.


    Evidently, the Scythe could read my mind, too. ¡°My manifestation¡ªsomething about it was altered by Sovereign Orlaeth,¡± Seris said simply, seeming strangely relieved by my reaction. ¡°So I was kept in the depths of Agrona¡¯s vaults for years as I grew. Always growing in power, before my mind would be inspected again. And I did everything that they set before me with utmost satisfaction.¡±


    Seris¡¯ gaze became distant as she stared past me, her body loosening as she fought to suppress the strange sort of disgusted longing she held in her heart. ¡°There was so much to learn in there, Toren. So, so much. There was no end to what I could discover, working as a young girl. It didn¡¯t matter who I picked apart and what I did to them. People were just meat, you know. Just a loose conglomeration of proteins and electrical impulses pretending to be something more.¡±


    I worked my jaw, unnerved by what I was feeling. A note of quiet fear burned deep in the back of my psyche at what I had seen.


    ¡°Then what changed it?¡± I finally asked, forcing myself to drift forward. Some part of me¡ªthe phoenix inside¡ªtold me that I was passing my neck through a hangman¡¯s noose. I took that small step of faith, suppressing that kindling flame.


    I pushed past my reservations. I ignored the sweat adorning my palms and the racing of my heartbeat. I put my trust in what I knew.


    I laid my arms on Seris¡¯ slim shoulders, massaging them softly. My shrouded wings encircled us again as my telekinetic shroud melted away. Around us, my notebook floated on currents of telekinesis.


    Seris¡¯ dull eyes drifted to my heart. I could see flickers of that earlier hunger, trying to claw itself back from where she¡¯d suppressed it. But I didn¡¯t conjure my shroud again.


    Her hand raised, poised and like a serpent¡¯s fangs. And when she pressed it against my chest, I could sense her quiet solemnity.


    ¡°It was Scythe Kelagon,¡± she said quietly. ¡°He was what changed everything. The Redfeud War was where it all broke.¡±


    I swallowed slightly, nodding. ¡°What happened, Seris?¡±


    Seris¡¯ fingers dug into my chest abruptly, drawing just a few drops of blood. ¡°The first foray of Renea Shorn,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Scythe Kelagon was far too powerful for me, Spellsong. I was but a newly crowned Scythe, and he had been in his position for nearly a century. The longest of any Scythe of his day. Any confrontation between us was a foregone conclusion. But he had¡­ weaknesses.¡±


    Seris¡¯ hand drifted up from my heart, moving to settle fingers on my shoulder. ¡°He had a¡­ Retainer. A young, Vritra-blooded woman with ideas too big for her head, and naivete far, far too vast. She thought she could improve in strength, kill her own Scythe, and take his place. And in doing so, she could make things ¡®better.¡¯ ¡±


    I shifted, sensing the depths of Seris¡¯ emotions as she spoke. Each word was said as if she was surprised to be saying them at all. ¡°It maddened me. This young girl was so insistent that the world should be a certain way, instead of how it was. I knew I was right. She had not been forged in Taegrin Caelum, as I had. She was a child.¡±


    Seris¡¯ fingers drifted around the seared red ink on my neck denoting the Brand of the Banished. If she wished, she could plunge those fingers deep into my flesh. ¡°I decided to teach her the truth of the world.¡±


    Goosebumps rose along the back of my neck at the simple way Seris said teach. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°I approached as Renea Shorn,¡± the silver-haired mage said. ¡°Or some variant of her. I offered my services in poisons and concoctions and every lowhanded method there was to overthrow her Scythe. She refused for so long, clinging to strange ideals of morality and virtue and justice and everything else. Foolish girl, she was. She wasn¡¯t strong enough for the world.


    ¡°She cared for things, Toren. And once I had grown close enough as her mentor¡ªI learned what they were. And so I took them from her, one by one.¡±


    Those goosebumps trailed down the back of my spine as Seris continued to speak, her voice strangely soft. Her fingers moved higher, from my throat to my face. She allowed the pads of her fingers to brush across the scars there, finding something in their texture. ¡°She never knew I did it, of course. But every time, that softness¡ªthat weakness¡ªit only served to make her crack and crumble. She became¡­¡±


    Seris tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she sought the right words to put to her intent.


    ¡°She became like you,¡± I whispered quietly, understanding.


    The Scythe chuckled slightly, the sound alluring as any classical piece of music. ¡°I suppose that is an apt way to put it,¡± she mused. ¡°For a moment, I thought that she was the greatest masterpiece an artist could have created. She was made in my image. I was her god.¡±


    Seris¡¯ hands retracted from my face as she looked down at them. She inspected them with the inquisitive curiosity that I loved, but it had a¡­ darker tint to it now. ¡°She poisoned her master, of course. In secret and over time, in a way he would never expect. Kelagon had taken her as Retainer because he expected an assault from the front, not a dagger beneath the armpit. I had orchestrated it perfectly.


    ¡°And when I slew Kelagon, his Retainer¡ªloyal to me¡ªwould take his place. And she would be everything that I needed to control the Dominion of Vechor alongside Sehz-Clar. I can¡¯t remember when it was that I realized it. I remember very little of those days. But I remember¡­ I remember looking at this masterpiece of mine¡ªthis sculpted pupil¡ªand some part of me thought it was a broken thing.¡±


    Seris was quiet for a long time, limp and boneless like a broken doll as the shroud of her past hung over her throat like her title. I didn¡¯t say anything. I wasn¡¯t certain there was anything I could say.


    ¡°Some part of me¡­ some hidden part¡­ saw what I had made of an innocent child, and I felt I had slit the throat of a bird for daring to sing. I had deprived the world of something, something I didn¡¯t understand. But it was something good. I remember looking at what had once been a girl who had wished only for the world to be a better place, and thinking I had created something monstrous. I had perpetuated my rot.¡±


    Seris¡¯ words echoed around me like stones thrown into a pond, the last turned into a snarl, her once-pristine voice dipping into a demonic growl. Something in her lifeforce shifted alongside her features. Her skin became a little more gray. Her limbs just a bit more twisted. For a strange instant, she seemed more demon than mage.


    But as swiftly as the subtle transformation had come, Seris regained control. She took a deep breath, her fingers shaking as she clenched them.


    I inhaled deeply in turn, trying to imagine how this must have shaped the Scythe in front of me. Someone so fully like the Sovereigns she served¡­ So fully one of them¡­


    I thought I knew why she found so many young Vritra-blooded children across the continent, keeping them safe from Taegrin Caelum¡¯s vaults. I thought I knew why she took her chances with a lone, Named Blood man in the depths of a Fiachran clinic because of his music.


    I swallowed, clutching the Scythe¡¯s hand with my own and squeezing. I didn¡¯t want to see her shake. ¡°What was her name?¡±


    Seris looked up at me, quietly reassured by my presence. ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± she said, a distraught sort of laugh. ¡°She was just my project. There was no person there worth remembering, in my mind.¡±


    And the woman before me could easily learn. She could simply look through the old records for this woman¡¯s name. But for some reason, she did not.


    The Scythe wrapped her fingers through mine, finding solace in the weave and warmth of my skin. ¡°And when all was said and done¡­ Orlaeth approached me. He said what I had done was worthy of the Vritra themselves. He said that I was his greatest creation yet, and that was enough. So I killed her. Like a potter smashing their craft because it didn¡¯t meet their specifications, I drove my blade through her core. But not before she had poisoned her master, and I was poised to put him down.¡±


    I closed my eyes, processing it all. I could sense it in Seris¡¯ intent, where this was going next.


    Seris wasn¡¯t the sort to weep. But as she melted into my chest, seeking solace in my warmth and my embrace, I thought that anyone else would. ¡°It was all there, in that moment. I could see that trickle-down effect all the way from the top. The rot and decay that seeped through every inch of our society¡­ It all started with them. I had conceived that I was some sort of god, for how I twisted and corrupted the things under my hands. But I was their demon.¡±


    And as Seris¡¯ quiet grief and hatred of all that had been made by the Sovereigns spilled out of her like tar from a pit, cloaking the night with a different kind of darkness. Not the absence of light. This was something that wanted to take the light and tear it apart.


    Through it all, I held Seris¡¯ hand as she quietly gnashed her teeth. She shifted, grasping my chin with a hand. She forced me to look at her so she could inspect every line of my face. ¡°Do you understand?¡± she demanded forcefully. ¡°Do you see what I¡¯m trying to show you?¡±


    Gently, I pushed her hand away, lowering it as one might a loaded gun. ¡°I think I can,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I think I understand.¡±


    The Scythe released a great breath that seemed to contain her entire soul. ¡°That¡¯s what I was afraid of,¡± she said with quiet resignation, echoing my earlier thoughts.


    I couldn¡¯t help it. I laughed, deep from the hearty depths of my soul. It echoed through the world on eddies of sound magic, mingling with the fire of that primal energy. I wanted to weep as much as I did laugh as I held Seris close.


    The Scythe accommodated my raucous outburst with her unique brand of contented annoyance, the kind I suspected was only present in cats.


    Seris feared herself the most. She feared that deepest call of her basilisk blood, that darkness that she had suppressed. It was always there for her, always a hint in the back of her mind.


    ¡°You¡¯re beautiful, Seris,¡± I said in a quiet breath. ¡°Down to your soul, you are beautiful. In spite and because of that shadow. Do you understand that?¡± S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Seris tilted her head, trapped as she was in my arms. Her eyes were narrowed at me as if I were some sort of madman hauled from the High Sovereign¡¯s torture pits. ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± she replied succinctly. ¡°It seems very foolish to me.¡±


    ¡°Is that a bad thing?¡± I asked, pressing my forehead to the Scythe¡¯s.


    Seris shuddered in my arms, a ripple going through her that intimately passed between us. ¡°I still want to understand it,¡± she said, almost a pout. ¡°But I can¡¯t.¡±


    We kissed there for a short time, immersing ourselves in the closeness. When we separated, the Scythe had completely and utterly lost her composure. I hadn¡¯t noticed when it had happened, but somehow a few locks of her hair had managed to drift out of place. I readjusted them with an artist¡¯s care.


    ¡°That just makes it my secret,¡± I whispered. ¡°One you won¡¯t be able to have.¡±


    The Scythe scoffed in her normal way, turning away from me. But when my notebook drifted closer, her attention shifted.


    The book held itself out in front of the Scythe, waiting for her to take it. I felt my heartbeat rising as I struggled to maintain the spell, some primal part of me still wanting to stow it away or burn it or something. Anything to keep me safe.


    But when Seris gently plucked the notebook from the sky, I had no more recourse. She leisurely opened it, inspecting the pages with a raised eyebrow.


    She looked at me, to the pages, then back to me. ¡°Ciphered, Toren? Really?¡±


    I gave her the most annoying and irritating smirk I thought I could manage. ¡°Please, Seris. Did you ever think I¡¯d make it that easy for you? You have to actually try.¡±


    Seris rolled her eyes dismissively, before focusing on the mangled mash of words on the page. She hummed for a few seconds, a slight smile adorning her features that made her look truly beautiful.


    And also really, really fucking terrifying. As Seris¡¯ eyes slowly roamed over the very first page, the swell of content confidence that slowly leaked across her intent created an inverse reaction in my emotions. ¡°Hey, uh, Seris? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s that easy to¡ª¡±


    ¡°You are an idiot, Toren,¡± the Scythe interrupted, not looking away from her reading material. ¡°Substitution ciphers are exceptionally weak to frequency analysis. Already, patterns arise across this first page. If I were to take a gander at all the methods used¡­¡±


    ¡°Now, hold on¡ª¡±


    ¡°Knowing you, I¡¯d wager a sort of block-shift cipher was involved,¡± the Scythe mused, making my face drain of color. ¡°You¡¯d want to use something that would make you feel intelligent, too. That¡¯s in your character. A cipher method that is easy to memorize, does not hinder your ability to write swiftly, and would make use of knowledge from your Earth, then? A date-shift is likely, based on what I know of you. A date from Earth, though, because you would really like to feel like you¡¯d pulled one over on anyone who got a hold of this. And considering what I know of the stories you¡¯ve told me of your previous world¡­ The early 2000s? What year was it that you died, again?¡±


    Every sentence created more and more cracks in the depths of my ego. I could almost imagine the knives sinking deep into my very soul.


    Seris looked back up at me, quietly savoring the utter corpse I had become as she casually obliterated any sense of pride I¡¯d had in my makeshift encryption. ¡°You are simple to understand, my dear Spellsong,¡± she said, enjoying every ounce of her victory.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t get into any encryption classes before I got hit by a fucking truck,¡± I muttered, dejected. ¡°I thought it was smart.¡±


    I should¡¯ve majored in cybersecurity, not computer science. Then she wouldn¡¯t be so smug.


    Seris shook her head in disappointment. ¡°Ignorance is not an excuse for idiocy,¡± she said, the exact opposite of reassurance. She returned to studying the book, humming to herself as her eyes sparkled with interest and rising desire. ¡°Though if I were to put this together¡­¡±


    The woman stared at the book for a few seconds, running through calculations in her head. Then, she began to speak. ¡° ¡®Three weeks ago, I awoke in a place I shouldn¡¯t be,¡¯ ¡± she started. ¡° ¡®I was surrounded by the corpses of¡­ skaunters. I thought I was dreaming, but it appears I am in the world of¡ª¡¯ ¡±


    Seris had spoken every word with slow, deliberate enunciation as she worked through the deciphering in her mind. My first reaction bordered along the lines of ¡°How the everloving fuck?¡± as I watched her decode it all in real-time in a very blatant flex of her utter genius.


    Then the Scythe¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°The Beginning¡­ After the End?¡±


    She looked at me, confused. After all, those words didn¡¯t really make sense together, not without the context needed.


    My second reaction very quickly became ¡°Oh, fuck.¡±


    I coughed slightly, moving my hand. I gently closed the notebook, allowing it to rest in her hands. ¡°Do you have anything left of that Sandaerene Red?¡± I asked, remembering the wine Seris had drunk in the wake of my fight with Arthur and Wolfrum¡¯s flight. ¡°You might¡­ need that.¡±


    ¡°And why might that be?¡± she pushed, honing in on this very different avenue of uncertainty like a cat sensing the movement of prey. Her horns glistened in the starlight as she leaned forward with restrained and characteristic interest.


    I worked my jaw. ¡°Look, it gave Aurora an existential crisis. I wasn¡¯t lying about that. It might be¡­ difficult? To read?¡± I offered. There were only so many ways one could take that information.


    Though as I thought about it more, I suspected Seris would appreciate at least some parts of what my notes told me. Like how some version of her decapitated Sovereign Orlaeth. That would probably be satisfying to read.


    ¡°Was the future granted to you that horrendous in nature?¡± Seris asked, more intrigued than disturbed. ¡°Is it lacking in parts that raise more questions?¡±


    I winced, recalling precisely where I¡¯d stopped reading. Before I¡¯d been hit by a fucking truck.


    I hate isekai rules, I cursed internally. Damn stupid.


    Because I had died immediately before Arthur Leywin had been set to meet up with Seris¡¯ rebellion hunkered inside the Relictombs. Seris would have probably really, really wanted that information on what had happened.


    ¡°It¡¯s not really about that, but how the knowledge was conveyed,¡± I admitted, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I felt strangely ashamed for not knowing more. Why couldn¡¯t that truck have hit me a couple of weeks later instead? ¡°I, uh¡­ Well, there are questions it brings up. Lots and lots and lots of them. That might not be able to be answered.¡±


    Seris did not seem perturbed by my warnings. If anything, she looked even more invested. Fuck.


    ¡°Just promise me to read it sometime when you can afford to have an existential crisis?¡± I begged.


    Seris laughed. It was a sound I had heard often, but the sheer volume and scale of it was not. She laughed so hard that tears started to burn at the edges of her eyes. ¡°Vritra¡¯s horns, Toren, you¡¯re serious about this insistence, aren¡¯t you? You think I will have an existential crisis?¡±


    ¡°You might!¡± I affirmed loudly, annoyed by how Seris wasn¡¯t treating this seriously. ¡°It¡¯s weird and strange and outside of context!¡±


    What even would Seris do if she decided that every moment of her life had been dictated by a book? She¡¯d probably leave TurtleMe to a slow, agonizing death, I wagered.


    Seris¡¯ eyes rolled, and she swatted at me playfully with the book. ¡°Very well, my dear, worrisome Spellsong. You¡¯ll have my word that I¡¯ll have a bottle of wine at the ready when I read your little secrets.¡±


    ¡°Again, it¡¯s not lit¡ª¡±


    Seris cut off my words by pressing a finger to my lips. ¡°Just hush for a time. I can only make so many promises in one night.¡±


    Her smile was true and pure, wide and free as the sky around me. And I just¡­ didn¡¯t want that to go away. But nonetheless, my shoulders¡ªwhich had been tensed in a sign of agitation¡ªreluctantly slumped. Sensing my quiet acceptance, the moon-blessed mage retracted her finger, watching me as if I were a child who might misbehave.


    Seris turned slightly in the sky. ¡°I think we should go back to the castle,¡± she said after a moment. ¡°Stay too long with your head above the clouds, and you might forget that there¡¯s a ground below.¡±


    I sighed in quiet agreement. ¡°I suppose there¡¯s merit in that,¡± I replied, feeling a bit lighter inside as Seris threaded her arm through mine. ¡°And I don¡¯t think Aurora¡¯s going to be done with her talk for some time. We have some time to ourselves.¡±


    Seris¡¯ eyes flicked to me, a slight smile on her pale face as we drifted arm in arm back down through the clouds. And though any other night, I might feel anger rise from the mere mention of Lady Dawn¡¯s son, right here? Right now?


    I could feel nothing but that kindling fire of happiness and hope.

 Chapter 296: Family Reunion

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    It didn¡¯t take long at all for Viessa to escape her ¡®accommodations.¡¯ Cylrit had stowed the unconscious Scythe in a feature-fit guest room, with as many luxuries as the dwarven castle could afford. Plush carpets, silk bedsheets, wine and food and everything else. Her stump of an arm had even been cauterized, with a little scathing note left apologizing for how her throat would always bear the marks of my burning fingers.


    And just this morning, the Scythe had disappeared like a ghost, vanishing as if she¡¯d never been there. Her tempus warp went with her.


    Seris walked in front of me, the click-click-click of her high heels on the descending stairwell the only thing I could hear. Cylrit walked in front of her, holding out a simple mana lantern with his characteristic stoicism. If anything would dare try to attack Seris from the bottom of that stairwell, it would have to go through him, first.


    Both of them were utterly unperturbed by the knowledge of Viessa¡¯s absence as we descended the stairs leading to the dungeon in a macabre mirror of our last trip down.


    ¡°I know your fears, Toren,¡± Seris said. ¡°But if Viessa had decided to take Chul Asclepius with her, we both know that you would know by now.¡±


    Indeed, this was true. Aurora had spent the last night speaking with Chul, our bond distant and granting us both our time. If Viessa had dared to try and tempus warp Chul away, Aurora would have none of it.


    The only real solace was that I¡¯d finally gotten a full night¡¯s sleep after so long. When I¡¯d awoken this morning, it had been with a mix of utter confusion at how rested I¡¯d felt. Seris herself hadn¡¯t slept much, though, instead completing paperwork through the night after our rendezvous.


    And she had oh-so-delightfully spoiled my morning by helpfully informing me that Viessa was gone, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.


    I had something of a talent for delivering bad news. Seris, however, made it an art form. It was something about her perfectly unflappable demeanor, unaffected by every single bit of bullshit happening around her. She made it seem as if it was all going according to plan.


    ¡°If you really wanted Viessa kept here, you could have taken away her tempus warp,¡± I said with annoyance. ¡°Could you please tell me why?¡±


    Seris paused on the stairwell, glancing over her shoulder as she peered at me. It belatedly occurred to me that my Scythe very, very rarely explained her plans to me in any fashion. But as she saw the little bundle of nerves adorning my face, something in that regimented habit relaxed.


    ¡°Scythe Viessa has seen fit to taunt me and make my operations on this continent exceptionally difficult,¡± Seris eventually said. ¡°Her orders are clearly different from mine, and I have had trouble honing in on her as she happily galavanted across the continent, committing systematic genocide. That, Toren, has been exceptionally irritating to me.¡±


    Seris continued to stroll downward. ¡°I¡¯ve made sure to remedy that. Viessa may not know it, but there is now a mana tracker imbued into that tempus warp. Wherever she now wanders with it, I will be able to follow. Cadell¡¯s location has also been indistinct across this war¡­ And I do not like things being unknown.¡±


    I rolled my shoulders, appreciating the intelligence while also fearing the repercussions of such an act. ¡°And what about what she¡¯ll say regarding Chul?¡± I pushed, remembering how I¡¯d stopped Viessa from completing her goal. ¡°That could be¡­ damning.¡±


    Seris waved a hand as if my words were a bad smell she could simply dismiss. ¡°Superficially and on an immediate level, I can understand why you would think that to be so. But Viessa intruded upon my domain without consulting me. She attempted to steal my prisoner, won by battle and bloodshed, and then faced consequences. I was well within my rights to send you after her to protect our prize.¡±


    I swallowed slightly at that, thinking it over. I had no doubts within my mind that Viessa suspected something deeper between Chul and I. She¡¯d been there that moment where I¡¯d seen him, where grief and rage had subsumed my psyche in a way unfitting for a simple enemy.


    But how could she prove it? Perhaps she could open her mind to Agrona or Orlaeth, so they could see what she had seen.


    Yet that would risk the cloying tendrils of those demons poking and prodding at her newly healed mind. Viessa was still caught in a typical catch-22. Submit herself to Agrona¡¯s torture chambers, or try and outrun a phoenix on the hunt.


    ¡°Are these explanations sufficient, Toren?¡± Seris asked, tilting her head.


    I nodded slowly. ¡°Thank you, Seris.¡±


    A fluttering of a smile dusted itself across the Scythe¡¯s pale lips, before she turned back around with a contented hum. Her intent was lighter than it usually was. Not truly breezy or carefree, but¡­ unburdened. Untroubled, despite the troubles.


    Last night had changed things between Seris and me again. Or maybe things that had already been in motion truly settled into place. I wasn¡¯t sure I knew what was different now, but there was a sort of openness that hadn¡¯t been there before. An honesty about what we needed that had been veiled behind our stations and fears. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When we reached the base of the broken vault of black obsidian, Seris¡¯ lips thinned into an irritated scowl as her eyes traced the edges of the cut material. Cylrit stood deliberately in front of the opening, his tall frame of plate metal an imposing barrier to anything that might come out.


    Considering what I could sense of his intent, I wondered who he believed was responsible for the wrecked vault. Cylrit had been nearly slain by Chul, and immediately afterward, the phoenix had driven a stake into his master¡¯s heart.


    He blamed himself, strangely. He blamed himself for not being there to stop Chul¡¯s attack on his master. And for the first time ever, I thought I felt a simmering¡­ hatred, somewhere, buried deep in Cylrit¡¯s subconscious.


    I could sympathize.


    I sighed, stepping forward and past Seris and her Retainer. ¡°Please stay out here,¡± I said quietly. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be long. I just need to discuss a few things with Chul and my bond.¡±


    Seris still had the djinn medallion that would see me and anyone accompanying me to the dwarven sanctuary, and she would work to try and capture the aetheric destination with what tools she had on her before returning it. In the meantime, I needed to have a talk with Lady Dawn¡¯s son in regards to what would happen soon.


    As much as I would rather hide away from it, I needed to have this confrontation.


    Seris¡¯ hand settled on my shoulder as I moved past her, halting me in my steps. I looked down at her, confused.


    ¡°Do not do anything you would later regret, Toren,¡± she advised softly. ¡°Your emotions are a great asset to you, but do not let them control you when wisdom would be a better choice.¡±


    I had meditated before this exactly for this reason. My thoughts and emotions were as serene as they could be. ¡°Thank you, Seris,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It does mean a lot.¡±


    The silver Scythe released my shoulder. ¡°Good luck,¡± she said serenely. ¡°I think you¡¯ll need it.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°I make my own luck.¡±


    The vault opening was dark, but I¡¯d stepped into Taegrin Caelum itself. This wasn¡¯t much in comparison.


    If only I could convince myself otherwise.


    My boots didn¡¯t make much sound as I strode through the darkness, sensing the two beings not far ahead.


    When I entered the vault again, the black diamond still damaged and devastated from how I¡¯d body-slammed a Scythe into it, with few notable differences.


    Namely, Chul was no longer chained from the four corners of the room. The bulky phoenix was sitting in a common seiza position, breathing in and out. Slowly, the mana flowed about him, drawn into his core in a familiar flow.


    For the first time, I stood still, watching the absent asura with a distant eye.


    His lifeforce beat strongly in my chest. The rhythm of it¡­ It was musical. Of phoenix and djinn both, mingled in a way I had never heard except from my own chest. Each pulse reminded me of the Hearth and the Relictombs all at once. It was like the bass war drum battled a simple pan flute, and both emerged greater for the experience.


    His body was still covered in unhealing wounds. Nearly every single one of them were shallow, surface-level cuts. When my shrouded saber had met Suncrusher, Chul had proven my better in martial combat nearly every time. After all, he¡¯d been trained for far, far longer. I¡¯d relied on my healing magic to see me through.


    My brow furrowed slightly as I saw those shallow cuts. That was pathetic of me. I should¡¯ve taken someth¡ª


    Chul¡¯s eyes snapped open, and at once I was faced with a half-mirror of myself. The phoenix¡¯s hair was the same shade as mine under the effects of Soulplume: a deep red that burst with contained passion and fire. It wasn¡¯t long like mine, but it appeared more akin to a wild nest rather than something more neatly groomed.


    And his eyes¡­ The blue one reminded me of J¡¯ntarion, immediately. There really wasn¡¯t a blue like it, as if crystal water and every emotion associated with it was somehow captured into a color and painted across someone¡¯s eyes. It was startling, a bolt of lightning flashing across your vision for the briefest moment.


    But the orange was so much more familiar. It was the captured caldera of a burning volcano, ready to throw her molten blood across the land at the slightest provocation. I could almost imagine that magma erupting¡­


    And as my mind caught on that train of thought, something else occurred to me in that strange moment of time. Chul¡¯s core felt full. His heartbeat conveyed nothing of the weakness that had permeated each of his cells barely ten hours ago.


    His core was far weaker than his body. But he regenerated his mana and power at an absurd rate. And as I remembered what it was like for a volcano to erupt underground and for the wrath of Mother Earth¡¯s hot, angry blood to coat an entire civilization, I realized that I didn¡¯t know if I could stop Chul at full power.


    I¡¯d shifted to a defensive stance before I¡¯d even realized it, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as my thoughts traveled a million miles per hour. Chul didn¡¯t have Suncrusher. It was probably back somewhere in Burim, buried beneath the rubble. Could he summon it to himself? If I needed to protect myself¡ª


    Chul¡¯s intent had been rising, just like a balloon ready to pop as he blinked at me, seeming confused.


    And then he leapt to his feet, a wide smile stretching across his face. He seemed utterly oblivious to the defensive stance I had taken and how my mana churned reflexively beneath my chest.


    ¡°Toren Daen!¡± he boomed in a voice more full of hot air and noise than dwarven forge bellows. ¡°I have heard much of your good deeds and escapades in saving our mother. You are worthy of every gratit¡ª¡±


    ¡°Does he know about what we¡¯re going to do?¡± I asked, my voice cool and sharp as I cut through the manchild¡¯s ruckus. I turned to look at a spot on the dark crystal floor. ¡°I¡¯ve made arrangements with Seris regarding our future plans. There might be some changes to what we expected.¡±


    Chul¡¯s abrupt jubilation¡ªthat was all I could think to call it¡ªshifted and dipped, his smile faltering as he seemed to belatedly recognize the way my feet were turned and my hand had been out in readiness to summon a weapon. I felt the tingling, reddish sound of his shamed heartbeat in my ears.


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    He lowered his arms, seeming like a bird caught in a tailwind and thrown for an utter loop.


    The Unseen World eventually overlaid itself across my vision, further darkening the already shadowed room. Aurora¡¯s shade knelt just across from her son in the exact same seiza position, her hands crossed over her lap in a way that reminded me of a blade¡¯s grace.


    She opened her eyes, looking between Chul and me slowly. Our bond lightened slightly, but still wasn¡¯t what it normally was.


    ¡°I have not yet, no,¡± my mother said quietly, still kneeling between us. ¡°I have told him much, Toren, but not all.¡±


    My gaze snapped back to Chul as I struggled with my emotions, the preparation I¡¯d done in meditating already starting to creak. My gaze hardened along the stone ridge of my brow, my lips a thin line as I tolerated his presence.


    Chul was bigger than me. Much bigger. He had the kind of muscles and physique that bodybuilders worked decades to achieve in my previous life. He was the pinnacle of physical power.


    But as I slowly ran my judging gaze across him like a rake across dry leaves, he crumpled inward, seeming to become smaller and smaller as his emotions dipped so readily.


    That annoyed me. That similarity annoyed me. His emotions dipped and weaved as often and with as much intensity as mine.


    Think of Aurora, I repeated to myself like a mantra. Think of Aurora.


    Our mother was watching me with solemn eyes, as warm as they were sad.


    ¡°I will need to use a djinni medallion soon after I put down Scythe Nico,¡± I said, not really caring if Chul understood what I was telling him. ¡°Agrona will sink his fangs into you soon, and I barely stopped the Scythe who did so. You¡¯ve got one option: join me in the sanctuary that the medal will teleport us to.¡±


    Chul blinked again, before puffing his chest out as his pompousness returned. ¡°Worry not, brother!¡± he said in that tone that shook the stones and pounded a headache into the back of my skull. It was only by the grace of a sound barrier that the entire castle wasn¡¯t alerted to his exclamation. ¡°Your cause in stalling the Anchor is just! I have seen this! But we need not hide from the evil Vritra. Already, I am nearly at my full power once again, and when I am hale, we can take our talons to those who hurt our mother!¡±


    I exhaled, imagining that all of my irritation and anger¡ªrational and irrational both¡ªleft in the cloud of heated steam that left my lips. I opened my mouth to reply, but someone else was faster.


    Aurora¡¯s shade slowly rose to her feet, like a wing unfurling to reveal its majesty. And despite the burns and tears marring every inch of her form, she managed to appear graceful and motherly despite it all.


    She turned her burning suns for eyes toward Chul, her expression softening in the way it did when she looked at me.


    ¡°Chul, you are powerful,¡± Lady Dawn said with a poet¡¯s honesty, ¡°but this is not just about your power. A sole phoenix¡ªeven two¡ªcannot stand against the weight of Agrona Vrtitra¡¯s experimentation. Do not forget that it was my own blind assurance in my martial prowess that saw me captured and caged. And remember, my son: you have not yet taken the final step toward banishment.¡±


    My features wrinkled ever-so-slightly in contempt at that. If Chul would simply avoid the consequences of his actions, running back to the Hearth and refusing to take part in the war¡­


    Chul¡¯s red brow furrowed as he processed this, his shoulders still slumped. ¡°I do not wish to hide once more,¡± he said in a low rumble. ¡°I hid for so long in the Hearth. I wish for vengeance and fire, Mother, not more empty waiting.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s attention focused on me for a few minutes as I kept careful silence. ¡°Toren is close to the Integration stage,¡± she said soothingly. ¡°Once that is reached, we will have more options available in the vein of resisting the High Sovereign¡ªespecially with the resources of the Scythe. We will not be simply hiding like snakes in the dark. We will be planning, waiting to make our rise.¡±


    Chul nodded slowly. ¡°Your words are truly wise,¡± he said, attempting some sort of sagely nod. He crossed his bulky arms, his brows furrowing. ¡°I see the truth there, Mother. If this is what is needed, I can understand. But the Scythe¡ª¡±


    I interrupted again, taking the train of thought before it could be derailed. My head slowly ached somewhere behind my eyes from his incessant, booming voice as it rattled my brain. ¡°Seris is working on a way to trace the aetheric teleportation of the medallion so that we won¡¯t be stuck there alone and without contact,¡± I said to Aurora, brushing away the bulky half-phoenix¡¯s words. ¡°That probably won¡¯t take too long, but it sets another timetable we¡¯ll have to watch out for.¡±


    Chul¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°The Scythe¡­ Mother, you say she has acted with wisdom and restraint. But I do not know if she is to be trusted. Her words must be taken with caution and care, to be sure. Will she truly rebel against her wretched forefathers? I cannot fathom it.¡±


    All signs of emotion slipped from my face like water off some massive sea serpent¡¯s back as I fixed the phoenix with a stare. In the back of my mind, I recalled everything that had happened between me and Seris last night. She had shown the deepest, most vulnerable parts of herself to me¡ªnot out of some scheme or vicious serpent¡¯s ploy¡ªbut because she knew I would keep them close to my heart like the sorrowful treasures they were.


    And in turn, this son of Dawn questioned her. He drove a stake into her heart, led thousands of innocent dwarves to their deaths, and then had the audacity to question her intentions. I struggled to suppress my rising fury for having looked at this man like a brother, juxtaposed with the promise that I would try to do so.


    Deep breaths. In, and out. In, and out. This headache would pass.


    Instead of remaining in the room, I turned on my heels, recognizing that my temper was beginning to fray. ¡°I¡¯ve said what I needed to say,¡± I said curtly, ready to destress somewhere else. I felt like poultry being pressure-cooked in this godforsaken vault with how quickly my anger rose, each inch of it pressing down on me and agitating my atoms towards movement and eruption. ¡°I¡¯ll speak with you over our bond when Seris informs me our chance is near, Aurora.¡±


    ¡°Wait, brother!¡± Chul beckoned from behind as I stalked toward the exit. ¡°You have not yet told me of your journeys. I must know of your glorious ascension!¡±


    I froze, clenching and unclenching my hands. I felt the urge to whirl around and throw a punch. But Aurora was here. I could sense her hopeful, quiet eyes on my back. I could feel them, asking me in as mournful a plea as she could.


    Chul had taken several hopeful steps forward. I could sense that hope in his intent, pure and undiluted as every other emotion he bore.


    ¡°I¡¯m not in a place to be anything to you, Chul,¡± I said with restrained calm. ¡°You¡¯re insistent on calling me brother. But I am not. Not right now. And I might never be.¡±


    I turned, feeling the burning pits of my eyes smolder further as I pinned the half-phoenix with a stare. ¡°Do you know what you did? When you shut that mouth of yours and stop trying to use the sound of your voice to drown out the sound of your thoughts, what do they tell you?¡±


    I watched as some of the light behind Chul¡¯s hopeful eyes flickered, wavered, and then died a pitiful death. His grin and laugh were well-practiced, and those of the kind of person who had more than enough joy to spare, but I could see as some part of his heartfire sizzled away at my question.


    The vault was silent as the grave as shared memories danced in the darkness between us. In the same breath, we relived our fight blow for bloody blow. I imagined each of the cuts I¡¯d traced along his damaged form. I remembered the sense of severing his heartfire, begging him to stop. To just listen to reason. To adhere to his mother and stop trying to kill everything.


    The lavatides flowed in the back of his eyes as Chul¡¯s mouth came to a line. He didn¡¯t need to say anything. I knew he could not sense my intent, but regardless, something in both of our emotions aligned there. Without the need for music. Without the need for a violin or a crowd or an asura-forsaken stage.


    ¡°When I grew up in Alacrya,¡± I said quietly, feeling the white-hot rage of mine settle into a colder, searing sort of frostfire, ¡°I was a healer. Every day and night, I spent healing the sick and wounded. I learned under a man named Trelza. He was a hard man. Unwavering and uncaring, at least as he presented himself. You could see more emotion in a block of steel than in that surgeon.¡±


    My fists clenched as I looked at the murderous manchild, my headache rising rapidly toward a crescendo as it pulsed in tune with my heart. ¡°But you know what he did? He taught me to care for people. He taught me to heal them until I could do nothing more. Until there was nothing left to save, I would try anything.¡±


    Fire sputtered and popped around my hands as I held the bulky man¡¯s empty eyes with my own, the very lines of the world seeming to grow taut between us as I hauled more and more of my memories to the surface.


    ¡°I have seen many things, Chul,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Many, many horrendous things. Before that awful day, I counted the worst of those the Plaguefire Incursion. In that, I faced the wretched experiments of the Vicar of Plague, one after the other. The scars that bastard Mardeth left on my home will remain for decades. But you know something interesting?¡±


    Chul swallowed at the cold, underlying fury that coated every syllable of my carefully enunciated words. All the while, Aurora quietly stared at the ground, not interrupting. Unable to interrupt. Because she knew this was necessary.


    ¡°When all was said and done¡ªwhen that megalomaniac had spread his disease across the city and tried to force his way to godhood¡ªthere were still people left. Many people died in the Incursion. Many, many people. But when I put on my mask and gloves and called on my heartfire, I saved far, far more people than those who died. I was able to make some sort of difference in the aftermath.¡±


    I slowly stalked forward, looking the asura in the eye as I searched his soul, drawing on every inch of guilt and remorse and sorrow that I felt permeating from him like tar. His shoulders were loose, his frame trembling slightly as he remained mute in the face of my quiet scorn.


    ¡°When I sifted through the ashes of what remained in Burim, Chul, I found more corpses than I have ever healed,¡± I admitted, gnashing my teeth as I fought down a treacherous tear. ¡°I dedicated so much of my life to helping those broken find the strength to run again. And when I sifted through that rubble at the behest of weeping families and distraught loved ones, I saw more death in one place than any sort of life I had ever given to this world. Dwarf, man, elf, Alacryan or Dicathian? It didn¡¯t matter. Two things above the lessers fought, and they died in droves. Pointlessly. Because of your fire and vengeance.¡±


    ¡°I will make it right,¡± the young man mumbled, the words leaving his lips in a fitful press as his shoulders heaved. ¡°I will see it fixed. It must be done. I will see justi¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fixed? How will you fix it, Chul?¡± I interrupted, still staring through his soul. ¡°Will you kneel before the dwarves and beg for forgiveness? Before the families of all those you¡¯ve killed? Will you offer your throat for them to slit in vengeance?¡±


    My eyes roamed across the bulky man¡¯s body. They narrowed contemptuously. ¡°There isn¡¯t enough of you to go around for that. You¡¯d run out of blood to spill too quickly.¡±


    ¡°I will find a way forward!¡± Chul said abruptly, pressing away at the despair that clouded him. His eyes flickered with rising light. He waved an arm, as if it could banish all the curses and sins cast by the folk of Burim as they hung about him like smog. ¡°This, I vow! I cannot see it, but I shall right my wrongs.¡±


    From the glistening in his eyes and the surety of his intent, I believed he wanted to. From the deepest depths of his soul, he wanted so very much to make it all right. I could taste that desperate desire of his on the air to fix it all, to turn back time and mend all that was broken.


    For an instant, I was almost convinced that it might be possible from sheer will alone.


    But as I remembered the image of Chul driving Inversion through Seris¡¯ chest, spearing her heart and tainting her lifeforce, I knew he would never succeed. As I remembered Bartholomew Morg, a half-dwarf performer who loved his life, falling to the ground in a pointless, cataclysmic death, I knew he would never succeed. As I remembered the hours of searching through rubble with my telekinesis, covered from head to toe in dust and despair as I told family after family after family that there was nothing left of those they loved, I knew he would never succeed.


    It was strange, that realization that this young man was doomed from the start. Before he could even set out on his quest, I couldn¡¯t fathom any way he could succeed. Something about that made my anger cool, settling it back into something I could manage and control.


    ¡°When you find a way to right those wrongs of yours,¡± I said, letting out a breath, ¡°tell me. I can¡¯t imagine a way forward, either.¡±


    I turned around, sensing Aurora¡¯s quiet disappointment in the back of my head. I ignored it, along with the pounding headache that had grown in my skull. ¡°You¡¯re going to be stuck in here for a while, no matter what choice you make regarding your banishment,¡± I grunted, marching back toward the vault exit. ¡°Make yourself comfortable. I¡¯ll ensure you get food that¡¯s not just prison slop.¡±


    I wouldn¡¯t offer the luxury of a pillow or blanket, though. The cold, unforgiving surface was all he would get for now.


    As I marched out of the vault, getting more of a grip on my emotions, Aurora¡¯s voice trickled like cool springwater into my pounding skull.


    ¡°Thank you, Toren,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Thank you for your restraint.¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond for a time, still quietly mulling over my anger and its unique tinge. I was so used to being able to share everything with my bond, but this¡­ this was something I couldn¡¯t share everything about. It wasn¡¯t fair to burden the phantom shade with all my boiling hatred and grief and trauma. She had enough of those herself to deal with without being torn between two sons.


    Yeah, I thought, remembering the promise I¡¯d made. The promise that I would try to let Chul be my brother. Yeah. Whatever.


    ¡°He means well, Toren,¡± she replied after a moment. ¡°He wants to be your brother. He wants to know about you and who you are, from the depths of his soulful heart. Just don¡¯t drive a stake into it when he leaves it in your hands.¡±


    I gnashed my teeth as I returned to Seris and Cylrit, too engrossed in my thoughts to grant them anything other than a brief glance. You talk as if it is so simple. He drove a stake into thousands of hearts.


    Mine included. Seris¡¯ included. Aurora¡¯s included.


    ¡°Then show him what it means to be better,¡± my mother shot back. ¡°That is what you do, is it not? You lead by example, Morningstar. You show the world what ought to be, rather than what is. Show a broken sinner what it means to change, my son. You¡¯ve done it so many times already.¡±


    I closed my eyes, registering her heartfelt pleas in the back of my soul. And then I kept walking, uncertain and unable to truly define what I felt.

 Chapter 297: Through the Looking Glass

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Toren Daen


    The next couple of days passed by in a blur.


    Aurora spent much of her time with Chul, talking with him and offering what company she could as I tended to duties above. I hadn¡¯t visited since then, still uncertain of my ability to remain respectful and calm.


    And with what I¡¯d been assigned up above, I wasn¡¯t certain I¡¯d get a chance any time soon anyway.


    I stood on the edge of the Sehz River, staring out at the opposite bank with a calm expression. I couldn¡¯t see anything, not without sharpening my eyes with mana. But I could sense the person on the far end.


    Lance Aya Grephin, codename Phantasm, lurked on the Dicathian shore, shrouded by her illusions. But I could still sense her heartbeat wherever it went. I could follow it like no other.


    Seris had given me a simple task. Whenever the elven Lance looked ready to act, I would simply put myself across from her in a silent warning. Whenever the elven mage slunk closer to the shore in a possible attempt to slip into our camp and wreak havoc, I would be already there, waiting for her to make a mistake.


    There had been plenty of skirmishes on those waters these past couple of days between Alacryan and Dicathian troops, but Seris was drawing out any confrontation. She wanted to make the defenders nervous and unbalanced. They waited for a strike that they couldn¡¯t anticipate, and any potential counterattack was in danger of phoenix fire.


    I narrowed my eyes, focusing mana into them as I honed in on my sense of heartfire. And on the far bank a mile away, I pierced every single illusion set in my way. My knowledge and understanding of sound magic allowed me to weave through every deception layered for a bare instant.


    And I saw Aya Grephin, waiting like a poised panther on the sands. The elven Lance didn¡¯t seem perturbed by my casual dismissal of her magic as her dark eyes glinted.


    She looked different from our last encounter. Her hair flowed nearly to the small of her back like dark curtains as sound magic and illusory mist rippled around her.


    ¡°Hello, Spellsong,¡± she said, her voice tinged with a sultry, alluring tone that was intentionally crafted to influence the thoughts of those with weaker wills. Even a mile away, the whisper reached my ears. ¡°It¡¯s been so long since we¡¯ve danced, but you seem opposed to any sort of waltz we might have.¡±


    I locked my hands behind my back, on high alert for any sort of deception. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss,¡± I countered easily, noting how her hands twitched with wind magic. This far away, I couldn¡¯t sense her intent, but I suspected I¡¯d taste only the lingering undertones of blood, ¡°but I can¡¯t dance with you. You should stop trying.¡±


    In turn, my magic carried my words across the bank to the distant Lance. She tilted her head, allowing her eyelids to lower in a way that was very deliberate as a smile crossed her face. ¡°But we had so much fun last time, don¡¯t you think?¡± she teased, her lips turning up at the edges. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to feel that rush again?¡±


    I sighed, unamused. Aya presented a very nice exterior with her little succubus act, but I could sense its myriad cracks. She¡¯d grown substantially in power since our last meeting, enough to maybe be a match for Nico on a cursory inspection, but it was hard to tell at this distance.


    That still made her fodder before me, even if I hadn¡¯t been able to stop her heart with a simple tug of the tether that bound it.


    ¡°There¡¯s only one person I dance with,¡± I offered in an easy counter. ¡°And I¡¯m under very strict orders to stop your heart should you do anything else¡­ unwise.¡±


    Aya¡¯s false smile fell into a thin line as she stared at me, her fingers twitching as she recalled our last encounter. I¡¯d grasped her tether, threatening to activate her artifact¡¯s protections. And as the elven woman dropped her pretenses of seduction and flashed the underlying knife beneath the metaphorical dress, I wondered for a brief moment.


    It rattled her, certainly, I thought, cool and sure in my ultimatum. More than I thought it would. Olfred taunted her once, didn¡¯t he? Something about how she toyed with her victims. There¡¯s a connection there.


    The Lance didn¡¯t respond, but that was okay. I¡¯d gotten the message across.


    I turned, whistling lightly to myself as I made my way back to the Alacryan camp. Then I paused, considering something else.


    Seris clearly needed me to taunt Aya for some reason. I suspected I was in the process of luring the elf mage toward some sort of trap, but if the dark-haired Lance did something stupid beforehand that jeopardized her health, then those plans might be discarded when they needn¡¯t be.


    I turned around, my brow furrowing as I considered this for a moment. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°And please don¡¯t suggest a dance with me again,¡± I said in a respectful tone, allowing my words to drift across the water. ¡°I¡¯m flattered, but if someone else gets word of it, I might be told to kill you anyway.¡±


    Aya blinked in surprise as my words reached her. Then she threw her head back and laughed uproariously. I thought that might have been the first honest thing I¡¯d seen from her since the terror she¡¯d shown when I¡¯d threatened to rip out her Lance artifact.


    ¡°Noted, Spellsong,¡± the Lance responded, her eyes glinting. ¡°You¡¯re not as much fun as I thought you would be.¡±


    I shrugged as I turned back around. If Aya wanted to risk Seris¡¯ ire, she had her warning. But honestly, between facing the asura themselves and Seris when she was pissed off, I would have rather faced the battle I had a chance of winning.


    Despite my apparent leisure, I kept my senses honed on Aya as I moved back toward the heart of the Alacryan warcamps amidst the trenches and stalwartly conjured barricades. She wasn¡¯t going to stop probing for weaknesses, and I couldn¡¯t afford to relent in my vigilance. I sensed her retreat back toward her defenders, ready to try another day.


    I was alone on the sandy beach as I strolled back to the camp, considering all that had happened in the past couple of days as the tension of this war slowly reached a crescendo.


    Nico had been sending messages. Many, many messages, each demanding that Seris deploy me to assist him in the capture of Tessia Eralith and confronting Grey. Each had been more and more rabid and exaggerated, and I could almost imagine the thundercloud of the altered mind inside his head as he struggled to maintain control.


    And every single time, Seris responded to him with more words of caution and waiting that slowly gnawed at the frayed ends of his patience. ¡°A few more days,¡± she¡¯d say. ¡°Toren is occupied with other tasks. You must be patient.¡±


    He was going to slip, and soon.


    When I reached the Alacryan camp, I was received with a strange mixture of cheer, fear, and reverence. Everywhere I walked, people made sure to step out of my way. Whispers of my deeds trailed me like a cloak, weighing down on my shoulders.


    I ignored those as I trod through the camps, though I did what I could in small ways to assist. Lighting cookfires, using my regalia to maneuver heavy loads from people who needed it, and more.


    Seris had also said I needed to be visible. I was a beacon of power and hope for these people, and I needed to play the part. I smiled at the right times, gave little bits of healing to others, and all around tried to be among these soldiers.


    But even as I walked among Alacryan and dwarf alike, giving them hope, I felt¡­ separate. As I grew in strength and power, there had always been a widening gulf of understanding between me and those I wanted to form a community with. In East Fiachra first, then with the dwarves in the caverns and Burim. But since the Breaking, that expanse had become something more.


    How did a measly soldier of a no-name blood speak with Spellsong, consort to Scythe Seris and warrior who fought gods? How did you relate to something so far above you? What made you worthy of their recognition?


    I tried what I could to banish these thoughts. During the nights, when the camps were rife with warsongs and slightly drunken amusement, I did what I could to join in, trying to be one of them again. I was just a man, I tried to convey. Just a man, like all of you. We are not different.


    But as time went on, I realized that I would never succeed in fully pushing away that awe and distance between me and those around me. Not unless I allowed them to see everything like I had Seris.


    What I had enjoyed in East Fiachra was a dream. A fleeting, wonderful dream, but a foregone one nonetheless.


    I found the people I was looking for before long. Jotilda Shintstone stood with a dozen other men in a tall command tent. A few other commanders¡ªboth dwarven and Alacryan¡ªmuttered about a holographic mana map that twisted and flowed with live updates. I could see twists of color here and there amidst the map, each flowing like ribbons.


    From a cursory glance, I could tell that each splash of color represented a previous attempt to cross the river Sehz. Little numbers indicated approximate casualties.


    Commander Dromorth¡ªa big, burly man with dark skin, a receding hairline, and almost comically small spectacles¡ªwas using hand gestures to manipulate the map, zooming in on the running water shown by the mana display.


    ¡°They repelled our attempt to charge along this bank with relative ease,¡± he said, his voice surprisingly measured and even for a man who looked like a fusion between a brawler and a librarian. ¡°The elves are good with their foxholes and other traps. It¡¯s making it hard to get in close and overwhelm them. Plus, those new weapons are annoyingly effective at keeping our shields pinned down.¡±


    Guns, I thought darkly, still unnoticed at the entrance of the tent as I kept my presence within. They¡¯re talking about the guns.


    Your average gun couldn¡¯t do much against a competent mage, at least if they were prepared. But when you had elves lurking within illusory mist, aiming barrels at you from dozens of yards away and barely any warning other than a click of a trigger?


    Well, even a competent Shield might fail to react in time.


    The reminder that Arthur had foolishly implemented firearms into this world soured my mood, enough that I let an inkling of my intent escape my iron control.


    Dromorth¡¯s mouth snapped shut as he sucked a breath in through his teeth. The other commanders stiffened, goosebumps rising visibly on their skin as my intent washed over them in little, tightly wound eddies. As if it was scripted beforehand, most of them lowered their eyes or whispered quiet prayers to the Vritra or Mother Earth. I could taste the reverence, fear, and awe in their intent.


    My mood soured even further. Once upon a time, I¡¯d been something more akin to a peer. Not anymore.


    ¡°Lord Spellsong,¡± he said respectfully, bowing neatly over the map. ¡°My deepest apologies. If I had been aware of your presence, I would have included you sooner. If any fault is to fall¡ª¡±


    I waved a hand in dismissal. ¡°It is no matter, Captain. I would have been unable to assist in any tactical matters regardless. I¡¯m here for a different reason.¡±


    My eyes drifted to a single man amidst the press of the commanders. ¡°Might I borrow Lusul Hercross for a moment?¡±


    I would have rather waited for the meeting to end before I dragged my friend from his duties, but my patience was unfortunately short.


    Lusul himself blinked, his near-pink eyes stark against his ebony skin. He looked back to the other captains, gave them a swift nod of acknowledgment, then oriented back on me. ¡°Of course, Lord Spellsong.¡±


    He quickly extricated himself from the men planning military strategy, before trotting after me.


    I strode back into the press of the warcamp as the musician trailed behind me, both of us taking our time as we wove through the mud.


    ¡°Have you been getting letters from back home?¡± I asked, hoping to fill the silence as I enveloped us in a sound barrier. ¡°From your family? The rest of the Central Academy orchestra?¡±


    The boy¡¯s¡ªnow man¡¯s¡ªintent shifted, the mixed and conflicted emotion suddenly stark within his heartbeat. ¡°I get some,¡± he acknowledged. ¡°I got a lot after what happened in¡­ Burim. Lots of questions. I couldn¡¯t give any answers. But I do talk with people back home.¡±


    I nodded slowly, stepping around a cookpot as I wandered aimlessly. I hadn¡¯t gotten communication from Sevren, Naereni, or the rest of my friends outside a few cursory letters saying they were okay. None of us trusted the Alacryan postal system enough to have any sort of meaningful conversation. ¡°Are you looking forward to going home?¡±


    My question caught the young man completely by surprise. He didn¡¯t miss a step or show any of it on his face as we walked, but I could sense it.


    There was a degree of rotation in deployment of troops for battles. It was one of the things that made the Alacryan war machine so effective and efficient. It was assured that as many war-able citizens who could contribute to the war would. And there was a high chance once this slew of battles was over that Lusul would be recalled to his home.


    ¡°No,¡± the violinist muttered under his breath. ¡°No, I¡¯m not looking forward to it.¡±


    The fact was that Lusul had a Dicathian lover and that he would also have a son in approximately eight months. The man hadn¡¯t known Anasia for very long, but the stressors of life had a way of making the time spent with those around you weigh so much more than the amount of time together.


    I could attest to that. Sevren had been my friend for a few months, but we¡¯d forged a friendship that was worth lifetimes. Naereni and I had only robbed a few people, but some part of me thought we¡¯d been doing it for years. I¡¯d known Seris for barely a year, and she¡¯d made short work of coiling herself leisurely about every facet of my thoughts. Aurora had been my bond for a time longer, but I felt I had known her all my life. Her light illuminated every step of my path.


    In that, Lusul and I were the same.


    I reached the edge of an outcropping of stone, giving us both a good vantage of the far bank. The wind whipped through my hair, trying to turn it into something uncontrolled and wild. I could almost hear the whispers of fell omens on the breeze, the quiet breath of approaching winter in the far horizon granting me the barest glimpse of what might be.


    I had a really bad habit of pulling Lusul away from whatever he was doing and dropping existential crises into his lap. I was probably about to do that again.


    ¡°Things will be changing soon,¡± I said gravely, watching the far bank. I could just barely sense Aya within the cluster of Dicathian encampments. ¡°Drastically. Enough that you might question everything.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Or maybe you won¡¯t question anything at all. I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Seris had spoken a little with me about what would be done after I killed Nico. She wanted to let some time pass, but she¡¯d had an inkling of an idea on how Chul and I would separate from her camp.


    Through a feigned betrayal. One where Seris would try and ¡°deliver¡± Chul to Agrona, and I would ¡°object.¡± It was practically the only plan that had a chance of maintaining Seris¡¯ station as Scythe.


    It would be suspicious. Very, very suspicious to outsiders. But there weren¡¯t many other options available. Furthermore, the Scythe had implied she¡¯d leave the methodology up to me; something about making it seem more genuine and less premeditated, which would hopefully throw some focus off Seris. As much as was possible.


    With Seris¡¯ usual methodology, one would expect a well-executed, flawless act. No bodies left behind, no men dead, no traces of my passing at all. But if I were to try something, and not Seris? It would probably result in bumbling, a fight with a whole lot of people, and significant property damage.


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    And by talking with Lusul, I inadvertently reinforced any idea that Iwas acting on my own.


    ¡°Are you going to battle soon, Toren?¡± Lusul asked slowly, catching the melancholy in my intent. It was a strange thing, knowing that this young man could taste a bit of what I felt. ¡°I mean¡­ the troops have been ordered by Scythe Seris to restrict our forward advance. Wear on the Dicathian resolve. I assumed it was because she has some sort of other plan kept in store.¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°She most certainly does,¡± I said honestly. ¡°But this isn¡¯t about that. Is Anasia here? In this warcamp?¡±


    I could sense immediately how the second Hercross son became uncomfortable. He worked his jaw, memories of our conversation along the cliff¡¯s edge rising in his stomach like a slow-burning fire. ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± he demanded harshly, suddenly agitated. The gradual erosion of the war, Burim, and the knowledge of his lover rushed from him like a tide.


    He felt trapped. Hemmed in on all sides, with no way out. When Alacrya won this war, there would be a reckoning for him. He didn¡¯t know that Seris would see to his protection, and neither did he trust the future ahead of him. All of that rolled-up uncertainty and fear oozed from him like blood from a wound.


    I let it wash over me, an unbothered stone in the depths of a river, as I gazed over the Sehz. ¡°Follow your conscience,¡± I finally said, considering my words. ¡°I still don¡¯t really have the answers you need from me, Lusul. But when the time comes, do what you think is right. That¡¯s all I can really say.¡±


    The young man shuffled in place, his agitation rising. He scoffed, turning on his heel and marching away as he projected his anger around him. Not anger at me, really. Anger at the world. Anger at everything he¡¯d been seeing and understanding, and anger at his own powerlessness.


    I stayed on that outcropping for a while more, just allowing myself to think. I brushed against my bond with Aurora, gaining, taking some small solace in the warmth and compassion she allowed to flow along it.


    I didn¡¯t want to say goodbye to these people. I didn¡¯t want to leave for who-knew-how long and lock myself away in a cave again, sheltering my wings and barring myself from the sky.


    My pondering was interrupted by a familiar, slow heartbeat as it hobbled toward me on plodding steps. I didn¡¯t turn as the person approached, still watching the eddying currents of water far below.


    ¡°Spellsong,¡± Elder Rahdeas said with his characteristic accent. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to find ya here. I had to go looking for a while.¡±


    ¡°Is Mordain not giving you visions of the future anymore?¡± I retorted. ¡°Having to think for yourself must be difficult now. ¡±


    I almost immediately regretted the stinging barb of my words as Rahdeas stuttered to a stop, his intent dipping very, very low, laced with sorrow and pain. I could sense the muscles of his face squeezing together in weary exhaustion and hurt through Sonar Pulse in exquisite detail, the knife within my words sinking into his heart.


    The dwarven elder didn¡¯t respond for a little while. I could sense him considering the right thing to say, but there wasn¡¯t really anything he could say. His mind had begun to heal somewhat in the aftermath of Burim¡¯s Breaking, and it had only left him with despair.


    But I couldn¡¯t dismiss the anger I felt. Mordain could see into the future. He¡¯d been speaking telepathically with Rahdeas, using him as an outlet of information. And he still had not prevented the end of Burim.


    ¡°The Hearth is rife with internal turmoil in the wake of your banishment,¡± Rahdeas said quietly, tapping a cane on the ground as he looked away. ¡°The Lost Prince hardly has the time to talk to a tired old dwarf anymore. Not with all the others looking to follow in your path.¡±


    I blinked, then turned to look at the old dwarf in surprise. His face was older than I last remembered, and his eyepatch made him seem even older. He always carried a grandfatherly air about him, the kind that made you think of Uncle Iroh. But now, he looked a bit more worn down. He was a sharp-edged rock that had been ground down to solid smoothness by the passing of time and the world around him, but the hammer blow that had struck Burim had lined him with cracks.


    ¡°The others looking to follow in my path?¡± I whispered, utterly astonished. ¡°What, you mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°Banishment, aye,¡± Rahdeas interrupted, tired. ¡°Aye. A whole host of them want to follow after you. They¡¯re sayin¡¯ that¡­ That if the vote had been different, none of it woulda happened.¡±


    My heart began to beat faster as Rahdeas¡¯ words registered. My hands clenched at my sides as I felt a swell of sudden hope.


    If even a fraction of the Asclepius from the Hearth join me in the djinni sanctuary, then our odds against Agrona increase many, many fold! I thought, adrenaline beginning to course along my veins. If I hadn¡¯t failed¡ª If it wasn¡¯t all for naught, then¡ª


    But then my pounding heart caught in my throat as the old dwarf looked away, something deep and broken inside of him weeping the life¡¯s blood of his ideals out onto the dirt around him. Rahdeas stared up at the sky, unblinkingly absorbing the sun¡¯s warmth. My rising joy and fervor bled away in tune as the dwarf¡¯s melancholy despair hung over him like a shroud.


    ¡°I¡¯ve doomed my entire race,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Doomed everythin¡¯ of Darv. Now, the asura will come, and every inch of Darvish sand will be turned to glass by the fires of their spells.¡±


    Suddenly, I wasn¡¯t looking at the willingness of the phoenixes in the Hearth to join my cause from my point of view, so high in the clouds and assured of my power and hope. I saw it from the perspective of this leader who sought a place for his people, who had so long been oppressed and penned in by those who thought them lesser.


    If the Asclepius join me, I thought with a spike of dread, how can I prevent Burim from ever happening again?


    ¡°Olfred does not talk to me anymore, Spellsong,¡± the old dwarf said distantly. ¡°I failed him. Failed my son, and I had lost him before I ever knew he was someone I could lose. Out on the western battlefront, he remains silent. It¡¯s a strange thing, losin¡¯ someone when they yet live.¡±


    The addled dwarf¡¯s sole eye focused back on me with startling, empty intensity. ¡°Ya get what I mean?¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand what he meant. Even though his emotions leaked from him in an almost desperate, intentional bid for me to know them, I realized that I did not. I could not. I had never alienated someone in so fundamental a way. I had never failed someone in the way he had.


    Rahdeas had meant well. He¡¯d wanted Darv to be free from the clutches of Sapin and Elenoir, and so he¡¯d turned it over to Agrona. He regretted it all. He wished he could turn back the time and undo everything, to a time when he still had his son and his ideals and a Darv that was still whole. When his very culture was not on the brink of utter erasure from his deeds.


    This is what Chul feels, I realized with painful clarity, my shoulders loosening. The very same.


    ¡°If you could go to another world,¡± I asked suddenly, ¡°where would you go?¡±


    The dwarven elder¡¯s sole eye slowly blinked in what I thought might be confusion.


    I turned to look at the man more fully, centering myself slightly. ¡°I¡¯ve read a lot of dwarven literature over these past few months. If you could travel with Garzand and the Golden Horde, would you? Or would you choose to act like Drumble the Traveling Bard?¡±


    I had done what I could to draw Alacryan and dwarf together in my time on this continent, and my work and input on dwarven-Alacryan relations was clear to see wherever Seris levied her laws. But the folktales, music, and ideals of the stalwart people weren¡¯t included in all of that.


    Yet I remembered them. Not all, of course. But some. It was a small, pinprick of a candleflame that I could offer. It was a trembling hand in the darkness to someone who saw no light.


    Rahdeas¡¯ face split into a soft, easy smile as he saw through my attempt to lift his spirits with ease, but he took the bait. ¡°I think I would like to travel with Drumble,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°So much mystery is lost in this world. It is so devoid of color, sometimes. I would like to see color like that, in another life. It seems less than probable, though, ya know?¡±


    I smiled back, remembering when I thought the same so long ago. I gave the dwarf a pat on the shoulder, hoping he could take some small solace in this moment. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a world out there where Rahdeas can travel along the bards on their adventures. You might be surprised how books shape reality around us.¡±


    Before I could say anything more, I felt a slight mana pulse from my dimension ring. I frowned, withdrawing my communication artifact. An urgent message from Seris flashed there across my senses.


    I felt my heartbeat stop. Seris never used the urgent line. There was only one reason she would. The only thing that this meant would be¡­


    Nico. Nico had made his mistake.


    ¡°It seems ya¡¯ve got your own story to complete,¡± Rahdeas muttered, looking off into the distance. ¡°Leave an old man to his musin¡¯, won¡¯t ya?¡±


    My hands clenched around the communication artifact protectively. I nodded slowly, hoping that Rahdeas got whatever he needed from this conversation.


    And then I lifted into the sky, flitting off toward the central castle that Seris called her home base.


    ¡ª


    Aurora¡¯s shade returned to me as I marched through the halls of the castle. Already, I felt adrenaline rising along my limbs as I prepared for what was to come¡ªbut nonetheless, I informed my bond of what I had learned from Rahdeas.


    ¡°If there are those willing to accept the Brand as well¡­¡± she muttered, her emotions flickering with hope, ¡°then our plans will not all be dust in the future. To have allies of our family¡­ of our clan¡­¡±


    I worked my jaw as I approached Seris¡¯ rooms, looking at my mother and shade. The burns all along her body seemed to melt off of her, each scar shed for a brittle instant as some mote of her former self flickered in her eyes. Will we be able to contact them in time to bring them to the new refuge? This pseudo Hearth?


    Aurora¡¯s attention focused on me as we walked. ¡°I know not, but this¡­ this can change everything again.¡±


    A solemn smile pulled itself along my lips as I thought of my venture into the Hearth. I wanted that¡­ so, so much. God, I wanted it. Just the memory of it¡ªthe ripping sensation of what I¡¯d had for a trembling, fleeting instant¡ªmade me weak in the knees.


    I leaned against a wall. I had already been hunched over to avoid braining my skull on the short dwarven ceiling, but in that moment, I felt every weight on my wings tenfold over. I felt it all pressing inward as I braced myself like a small pine against a stormwind as I remembered.


    Aurora¡¯s arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding me in her warm, motherly embrace. I leaned into it so much, restraining the urge to let out a tear. My breath shuddered.


    You sure have your priorities, Toren, I internally berated myself, feeling silly for getting so worked up. Think of the community and not the big picture.


    Aurora hummed softly above me as she ran her fingers through my hair. ¡°I long for our family again, too, my bond,¡± she whispered. ¡°It is not wrong to wish for them.¡±


    Thank you, Mom, I thought, restraining the sudden urge to tremble. God, I felt so weak sometimes. Thanks.


    Aurora helped me straighten again¡ªat least as much as I could within the stout hallways¡ªand we finally entered Seris¡¯ rooms.


    The scent of chemicals and reagents hit me like a wave, but I¡¯d been expecting that. All across the Scythe¡¯s bedroom, little experiments and tools waited. I recognized some of them as attempts to utilize the strange inverted deviant that had taken root in her heart. Little vials of burning white energy hummed, pressing strangely against my mana senses as they hovered over a dozen instruments I couldn¡¯t recognize.


    I need to find a way to stop its spread through her body, I thought, some of my earlier good mood seeping away. Or at least make it controllable. She¡¯s able to harness it more, but it¡¯s still poisoning her every second it stays in her lifeforce.


    The Scythe was easy to spot. She stood in her dark dress at the edge of her writing desk, her pen moving at the speed of sound itself as she wrote with fluid grace. On and on and on her hands darted, weaving words I couldn¡¯t trace. Her horns glinted in the low light. Her heartbeat was steady, but it was still weakened from the Inverted Decay lingering deep within.


    Seris didn¡¯t say anything as we entered. She slowly stopped in her writing, then slowly straightened.


    Her eyes flicked to me, meaning deep working its way through her intent as it reached me. My eyes hardened as I sensed her quiet resolve.


    She spoke no words, just held out her hand. A single, unsealed letter laid there like a songbird resting in the palm. I looked at it, almost sensing the weight of every drop of ink adorning it. I reached out with my regalia, grasping that letter. It slowly hovered over to me, before settling in my hands.


    I felt sweat trying to pierce the veil of my skin, but I denied it as I slowly unfurled the letter, my eyes darting over each syllable.


    Scythe Nico has gone on ahead. He pierced the fog, claiming he will capture the elven princess alone. He has sent a missive using a captured spy threatening King Grey as well.


    Nico hadn¡¯t been willing to wait any longer. Seris¡¯ gambit had paid off, apparently. The man had disobeyed orders, charging like a reckless bull into the unknown dark in a misled attempt to capture Princess Tessia.


    I narrowed my eyes, before a single spark leapt from my fingers and onto the parchment. The ember caught, before slowly devouring the parchment and turning it to ash in my hands.


    I looked up at Seris, sensing the weight in her stare. ¡°From one of your spies in Nico¡¯s camp?¡±


    The Scythe tilted her head. ¡°It is my camp, not Scythe Nico¡¯s,¡± she said simply. ¡°And indeed it was.¡±


    I could fill in the gaps easily enough. Nico was stepping into dangerous, unconfirmed territory within the veil of Elshire Mist over the northern front. Anything could happen there. He might not even leave alive.


    I knew for a near fact that Tessia Eralith wasn¡¯t along the Northern Front. My sense of her soul told me she was somewhere to the west, but that still made everything more complicated. Part of me was certain that Nico was already walking into a trap of some sort.


    I just needed to be certain it would shut around his throat.


    ¡°When will I leave?¡± I asked sharply, measuring the flow of adrenaline already coursing along my veins. Everything¡ªevery single punch, kick, swipe of my sword and pull on my mana had led to this. Every second I¡¯d been in this world, I¡¯d been building towards this moment.


    Aurora¡¯s hand settled on my shoulder in that comforting way as I recalled my last talk with Nico. I had affirmed my will, there. The necessity of my action as it scraped against every moral value I held. But I would do it.


    I would see Nico dead.


    The Scythe searched my eyes for a moment, reconfirming our plans and will. Then she flourished her hand. A single, familiar item settled into her palm.


    A tempus warp, shaped vaguely like an anvil and absolutely littered with cracks. The same tempus warp that I had retrieved from Wolfrum Redwater. The same tempus warp that I thought had been lost in the devastation of Burim.


    ¡°This is all I could recover from Burim,¡± Seris said, her dark eyes staring through me. ¡°None know I still bear any sort of teleportation artifact. It only has two or so charges left: enough for you to get in, then get out. Simple. None will even consider suspecting your interference.¡±


    I nodded slowly, reaching my hand out for the artifact. ¡°I won¡¯t be long, Seris,¡± I said simply. ¡°Not long at all.¡±


    The Scythe¡¯s fingers tensed around the tempus warp, and I sensed her intent warp slightly. She chewed a bit on her lower lip, her eyes still tracing along my face as if she were committing it to memory. ¡°It still does not sit well with me, what you said of the High Sovereign¡¯s words to Arthur Leywin. It has me worried, Toren. Worried for a reason I cannot pin down.¡±


    My shoulders loosened slightly as I sensed the undertones of fear in Seris¡¯ voice. I had told her what Sylvie had told me, of course, along with all the context needed to understand what the Garden, Adam, Eve, and the Apple were. It had left her particularly disturbed, even moreso when I¡¯d explained what had happened in a different future.


    ¡°In this speech of his, Agrona said that there were only two people on this continent he is interested in, while taunting Arthur Leywin with his otherworld knowledge,¡± Seris said slowly. ¡°In another life, it would have only been one. It stands to reason this shift in his motive¡ªthis desire for bloodshed and destruction, instead of recruiting the King¡ªis for some goal relating to you.¡±


    I laid my hands on Seris¡¯ shoulders, massaging them lightly. She felt cold, and I wanted to give her what warmth I could. ¡°I¡¯ve carried that possibility that Agrona¡¯s known everything, all along,¡± I said quietly. ¡°It could all be a trap, set for me to dive headfirst. Like a bird in a net, I suppose.¡±


    Seris sniffed slightly, squeezing one of my hands as she held the tempus warp between us. ¡°That¡¯s the terrifying thing, isn¡¯t it? It all feels so scripted. I feel as if I am missing a piece of this puzzle, or a bit of perspective that will all make it make sense. I feel it, deep in my gut.¡±


    I nodded gravely. The Scythe had told me about that sense of hers, how she traced a puzzle to its source. ¡°You¡¯ll get it, Seris. I know you will. You¡¯re the smartest person I¡¯ve ever known, and you can figure this out.¡±


    The Scythe smiled slightly. It did wonders to the soft outline of her face, that smile. I felt a little spark of joy deep in my soul every time her lips curved up and those restrictive masks fell.


    ¡°I do not cater to empty flattery, Toren. I would rather you not be a kiss-ass. I don¡¯t like those.¡±


    I snorted, gently taking the tempus warp from her hands. I could feel my pulse through the cold touch of the metal. ¡°If I mean every word I say with my soul, it¡¯s hardly empty flattery,¡± I said with a wink. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Aurora didn¡¯t say anything, solemn and stalwart as our goal approached. I turned away from Seris for the moment, pushing thoughts of her, Rahdeas, Lusul, and everyone else from my mind.


    ¡°Are you ready to fulfill our Oath, my son?¡± she asked as I carefully funneled mana into the degrading artifact. They only had so many charges, after all. ¡°Are you ready to make good on your vows?¡±


    I ground my teeth, my features smoothing over as a portal spun into being before me. I could feel Seris¡¯ eyes on my back.


    There was a time when I thought the worth of a single life was¡­ infinite, I mused sadly. Before that first assault on Burim, I think¡­ I think I really believed that.


    I took a trembling step forward, hearing my bond¡¯s voice. ¡°Do you still think as such?¡±


    My foot passed through the pane of purple, the shimmer wavering like my thoughts. I don¡¯t know.


    ¡°No matter what choice you make,¡± Aurora¡¯s voice threaded through my thoughts, ¡°I will be here for you when it is over.¡±


    The portal stopped wavering, and my mind solidified. I moved forward, entering the pane into the unknown, sure of the warmth at my back.


    It was only after I¡¯d stepped through that pane of purple onto the far distant Northern Front that I realized I¡¯d forgotten to tell Seris about the Asclepius clanmembers who might be risking banishment to join us. She would have loved to hear it. It would have given weight to everything we suffered these past few weeks. That her sending me to the Hearth wasn¡¯t a waste. That her rebellion would have more than just one phoenix on the wing.


    That she would have more hope.


    I felt a smile twitch the edges of my lips as I stared at the expansive wall of illusory mist that hid secrets and whispering demons.


    I¡¯d tell her when I got back.

 Chapter 300 298: Gladius et Corona

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Blackbend City was bustling with activity as I stood over a war table. I narrowed my eyes as I blotted out the excess noise.


    "The troops at Etistin are braced for a potential sweep from the north," Senior Captain Trodius Flamesworth said, his expression cool and collected as he arranged pieces on the war board. "Lance Zero is ready for any potential enemy assault from the north, along with a small fraction of our armies."


    The dark-haired noble moved the cue to indicate the western opening of the Sehz Canal at the far reaches of the continent, where both Darv and Sapin met the sea. "The latest reports from the furthest reaches of the river claim that small skirmishes between Alacryan forces and our own men have been common, but a concerted push has not yet been made. Lances Thunderlord and Ohmwrecker both stand opposed to the former Lance Balrog, ready for any potential incursions, but the Alacryans and dwarves seem content to hold their ground for a time and build on our nerves."


    I swept my eyes across the board, noting the central city of Carn. I knew from reports that Scythe Seris Vritra and Spellsong both were camped on the far banks, barely a stone''s throw from the city. If they captured it, they''d sever the river supply lines in two, while also allowing their troops to travel eastward along the river to reinforce the battle a few miles south of here.


    At the same time, it would be more difficult to reinforce Carn''s defenders until a decisive battle was won elsewhere along the river. It was a demented house of cards, and I could see the setup Seris had laid with her three points of tension along the board. Dicathen losing a single battle could trigger a domino effect as Alacryan forces spread along the river, reinforcing other fronts in flanking maneuvers that would cut off their life''s blood.


    On the inverse, however, a monumental Dicathian victory at any point could also spell the doom of their forward push for the exact same reasons. Seris was playing a dangerous game, especially after what had happened with Spellsong in the castle.


    "Your Majesty," Lord Flamesworth said, drawing my attention away from my inner musings, "I have summarized the current state of the southern front to the other lords who haven''t been as involved in the war effort. Is there anything you might wish to add?"


    I swept my gaze across the gathered nobles, ignoring the lingering wraith of King Grey among them. Flamesworth, Dreyl, Bladeheart, Ravenpor, Redner, Graves, and one more of note.


    Wykes.


    The small faction of corrupt nobles that still maintained a foothold of power despite my ascension to the throne was dwindling every day. With every battle I won, adept political play, and exercise of my position of Commander, they were slowly stripped of any sort of strength they once possessed.


    Otis Vayhur Wykes, head of the Wykes family and all-around difficult man, stood at their head. He only kept his head because of his son''s status as my Lance, but that wasn''t enough to quell his ambitions.


    The man lounged across from me with a gathering of his noble allies. Dreyl, Ravenpor, and a few other family heads stood in subtle alliance with him. When there were nearly twenty men in the room on my side, however, it made these cretins look remarkably pathetic.


    Otis kept his long, bleached blonde hair in a ponytail. With his hair pulled away from his face, it emphasized the horrendous vertical scar right beside his left eye. His eyes were arrogant and calculating as he stared at me, but the subtlest of flexes of my mana compelled him to look down.


    I could almost sense his humiliation from such a simple action. I could almost see the stamp of arrogance and disdain he''d branded into his son Lucas'' soul. Otis didn''t care that I''d killed his son. He cared that I, a commoner, defied the Wykes family, as he said under his breath and behind closed doors.


    I was certain he was a traitor to Dicathen, leaking information to the Alacryans in small, careful ways. I just couldn''t prove it yet. But the moment I could, he would be stripped of his title, maybe more. Until I could figure out a way to manage¡ªor replace¡ªBairon, I needed to maintain a level of faux respect with this man, no matter how much I detested him.


    I leaned over the table, casually conjuring a cue of condensed ice in my hand. The spell hissed and cracked as I pointed at places across the map of Sapin with it, drawing the attention of every noble present.


    "This war could very well be decided by who wins a battle along the Sehz River first. There are three primary battle points, as Lord Flamesworth mentioned: along the opening of the Sehz Canal, where Thunderlord and Ohmwrecker work to keep the peace. The crux of Carn, where Phantasm is positioned. Finally, just south of us at the Triple Fork, where Silverthorn stands guard," I said truthfully, addressing the rest of the small gathering of nobles. With every battlefront I listed, I shifted my ice cue across the board. "Should any of these battles be lost, it could open up attacks from the Alacryans on our flanks. To prevent that end, I''ve ensured a plan of my own to see that we will be the first to achieve a victory."


    Really, Tess had come up with this most recent idea, and I had worked to smooth out the kinks. I''d been too tired in the immediate aftermath of Rinia''s revelations to do much of anything, but when I was weak, my childhood friend remained strong. She carried the burden that I struggled to in that moment, offering the reprieve I needed.


    "Will you keep this plan to yourself?" Otis asked, his tone as respectful as he would allow. "It may benefit us to know what is in store so we may prepare accordingly."


    I tilted my head as I observed the corrupt man. I''d been slowly cutting off his avenues to project his political power, which meant he was soon to make a push to get it back. But Tess and I had both prepared for that eventuality and the worst case, as well. His words were a rather blatant attempt to gather information.


    "The success of this plan relies on its secrecy," I said honestly, ignoring the mutters of the nobles around me. "I cannot divulge its workings to anyone here, but when I am successful, I will send information for the rest of you to act upon and direct your troops. Any other questions?"


    I didn''t receive any, aside from a death glare from Otis. He opened his mouth to speak, but I sensed a wave of mana from my ring before he could do so.


    I waved my hand, silencing the man with a casual gesture. With a simple movement, I withdrew a communication scroll from my dimension ring.


    I unfurled it, my eyes slowly tracing along the words listed. And despite the mantle on my shoulders¡ªdespite the strength of my mana core and the absolute power of my physique¡ªI sagged slightly, the mantle I''d taken growing heavier as I absorbed the report.


    My fists clenched imperceptibly along the parchment as I gritted my teeth, my thoughts running slow for a moment. Across from me, Otis'' eyes gleamed.


    "Is something wrong on the warfront, your Majesty?" he pushed, a hound that had just sensed weakness. "If there is anything¡ª"


    "Everything is proceeding as expected," I said with candor, methodically rolling the parchment back up. I graced Otis with a smile as I masked my unease. "I have somewhere I need to be. Lord Flamesworth, see that all plans made are reasonable and hold the best interest of Dicathen."


    I pushed away from the table, ignoring the irritated eyes of Otis and Trodius'' calculating gleam. Both were extremely dangerous men, but in very different ways. It was a constant balance, keeping them in check and playing their ambitions and greed off of each other.


    The gathered nobles¡ªboth elf and man¡ªmurmured as I strode away, my boots echoing on the cold stone. I kept my head high, allowing all who saw me to perceive a regal and composed bearing. But as I marched through the manor of some nondescript noble in Blackbend City, my mood soured more and more toward sorrow and uncertainty.


    Sylvie, I thought to my bond, currently busy using her healing vivum arts amidst the wounded camps, prepare to leave. I just got the word. Tess'' plan has borne fruit. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    My bond''s attention focused on me immediately. "Arthur, are you sure about this? You know what''s coming. Can you¡ª"


    I have to do it, Sylv, I cut her off. We both know why.


    My draconic companion, who had been with me every step of the way since I''d come to this world, hesitated slightly. I could feel the compassion and worry across our mental tether as she did what she could to soothe my pains. "Okay. I''ll be with you soon. I just need to finish healing this patient, and we''ll go south."


    I exited the manor, and then lifted into the sky. Slowly I flew toward the south, toward Blackbend''s dark, granite walls, observing the rolling hills patterned with industry and workers. Those had once been rolling fields of wheat and barley, but the war had gorged upon them and spat out dark steel and angry smoke in its place.


    Toren Daen had set all of this into motion. Everything that was about to happen¡ªeverything I knew about the truth of this war¡ªit was all because of him. And still, I did not know who he was. I didn''t know how he''d known me in my previous life, how he knew me in this one, or anything of the like.


    Sylvie had told me about the talk she''d had with the infiltrator as he sought Cylrit''s rescue. He''d spoken of knowing the future, or a future, other than this one. And even though Cylrit and Mawar had both escaped in Spellsong''s ensuing clash with Taci Thyestes, Sylvie had gained a strange sort of insight into the man.


    My fists clenched as I considered my bond''s theory. The idea that someone could go back in time sounded absurd. That this strange phoenix hybrid might have already lived through the events of this world, only to discover a way to return to the past to try and right the wrongs of history didn''t seem remotely possible. Even aether couldn''t be so all-powerful¡ªcould it?


    I stared into the far, far distance. Miles upon miles away, a veil of fog lilted over a forest, and a Scythe had just taken the bait. It didn''t matter what Toren Daen was. It didn''t matter if he was some sort of Returner who had known me in an erased timeline. It didn''t matter if he''d fought Taci Thyestes and won. It didn''t matter if the asura of Epheotus would escalate again.


    None of that mattered right now, in this instant. Because Nico was there, about to take Tess captive. Nico, the friend I had betrayed and destroyed in my past life. Nico, one of the only people who had ever cared for my well-being.


    And Nico, a Scythe reincarnated into this world for the sake of Anchoring the Legacy. Toren hadn''t said as much when he''d fought me, but it was clear enough. I had been avoiding the truth for so long.


    But I couldn''t anymore.


    I settled down on one of the outer walls, locking my hands behind my back. My shoulder-length auburn hair swayed in a slight, gentle autumn breeze. I could feel that wind aging me, stripping this body of any youth or vitality it might have had.


    Not far away, King Grey''s phantom watched the distant plains, too. No longer did he constantly haunt me. Not since I had looked him in the eyes and scolded him for his hubris.


    The late afternoon sun was hidden by growling, angry storm clouds miles above. Those clouds¡ªdark and turbulent, as they threatened to hurl raindrops down like bullets¡ªreflected the inner sanctum of my mind. I felt those shadows creeping along my neck and throat, constricting like a noose.


    "What do you think about it all?" I asked, still staring at those far-distant plains. If I sharpened my eyes with mana, I''d be able to trace the eastern fork of the Sehz down to the battlefield. I might be able to see the mist. I might be able to sense Tessia''s mana signature. "Our past is coming back to us, bit by bit."


    My azure eyes flicked to the side, tracing over the crack in my psyche that was King Grey. He was solid as a statue, his crown a terrible mirror of mine as his empty eyes watched the distant plains. "It''s poetic. In every life, I become a King. And now, Nico has returned, too. He''ll judge me, just like you do. He''ll look at me, and he''ll see a monster. And you would kill Nico, King Grey. For being an enemy."


    I ground my teeth, looking back toward the horizon. "For being in the way."


    The words felt good to say, then and there. I ignored the creeping acknowledgment that I was mad, that talking to a specter or a hallucination only proved my words. I was slowly, gradually losing my sanity as I spoke to things that didn''t exist.


    But it felt good. It felt good to talk to King Grey, to hurl his sins at his feet. Some part of me felt a vindictive pleasure at addressing this shadow of my past. I didn''t need an answer. I just needed a target.


    So when King Grey spoke in even, dead syllables, something in my heart stopped.


    "You are not King Grey."


    My head snapped to the phantom, quicker than a snapdragon wasp''s stinger. I had heard the words uttered. I had seen the lips move. But somehow, I had not expected that I had descended this far into madness.


    "I''m not, am I?" I whispered, feeling a boiling, rising anger. "You say I''m not?"


    There were different kinds of anger. There was the blinding, furious kind that leaked from the heart like an erupting fire and surged along the veins. That was the kind that encouraged you to slip up. The engine of fury in one''s veins made their movements unsure and staggered. The piston-firing anger of their heart cursed them to bestial flailing, rather than focused purity. It was quick, instinctive, reactive. It came from shock and fear disrupting the senses and stripping the man away, leaving only a beast.


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    That was not the kind of anger I felt slowly unfurling across my body.


    There was a cold, apathetic sort of anger, too. It was the anger of a surgeon''s precise razor as it honed in on a single point, drawing steel across flesh. It was the kind that slowly inched up and along the bones and meat of the person, freezing them solid. It was calm, collected. But it was still fury. And as it passed, it snuffed out any heat and warmth and emotion that had been there before. It was the anger that took.


    Neither was that the kind of anger that burned in every cell.


    There was the kind that started in your stomach and worked its way up, like a builder laying foundations. It was slow, methodical, and structured. It was focused and powerful, anchored through suffering and turmoil. It did not burn out. It did not waver. It did not distract. It wasn''t an eruption or a winter storm¡ªsimply a constant, searing heat that made one''s heartbeat rise and their body shift in preparation to throw one thousand blows over a thousand years.


    That was what possessed me, then. The strength of a thousand steam engines with enough fuel to go for centuries more, hurling their vengeance into the sky in thick, black smoke.


    "The audacity of you," I snarled, narrowing my eyes at the specter. "The audacity of you to say such a thing. I can feel you in the back of my head, always trying to steal away more of what I''ve built. With every step I take, I see your shadow, and I nearly fall. Every time I think I have made progress, you are there, waiting to take it away."


    "Yet you have continued on, Arthur-Grey," Grey said, utterly unfazed by my intent as it bore down on him. Why would he care about my anger? He was just a machine, fulfilling a task. A machine didn''t care. His voice was monotone and devoid of inflection, as empty as his eyes. "Despite the gaping pit, you have kept yourself aimed at your enemies. You have leaned on those beside you. Would King Grey have approached the Princess of Elenoir for her assistance?"


    I laughed. It was a mad, angry barking as it ripped its way out of my throat like wretched vomit. For so long I''d wanted to banish this specter. I''d wanted to be rid of his gaze. And now he stared at me, his eyes flickering with the barest mirage of purple, and he had laid his throat near my blade.


    Dawn''s Ballad phased into existence in my hands. My fingers did not sweat or tremble as I leveled the weapon at the crack in my perception. "You pretend to care. You speak as if you ever wanted to be better. You speak as if you, King Grey, wanted me to be better. But you forget what you did. You forget how many died because of you, what happened to Nico and Cecilia. And you judge me. You are a weapon, devoid of will. You have no say."


    Then the shade did something I did not expect. With the purple blade of my sword between us, he stepped forward, his dark, empty eyes suddenly blooming with violet hues.


    He raised hand, covered in a gauntlet of reflectionless steel, and pushed my weapon aside.


    I barely had a moment to register this before King Grey was directly in front of me. His crown glinted as he stared up at me, his lips set in a static, stale line. But those eyes¡ªso violently purple as they peered through my soul¡ªthey made something in the back of my mind tremble.


    I could feel those eyes dissecting me. Tearing me down to my base layers, like an onion being peeled. Layer by layer by layer, they analyzed me with the cold efficiency of a cog turning in a great machine.


    "A weak weapon does not judge its master. A weak weapon does not question the ends. It is a broken blade that cuts any and all," King Grey murmured, seeming to swell at the edges. Light rippled and bent around him, and some trick of my subconscious coated this phantom in a sheen of purple. "Do you think you are worthy of this weapon? Do you think that you are worthy of wielding it to strike at your enemies?"


    I sneered, peering down at my kingly reflection as the wind blew. "Nobody is worthy of Grey. That''s what you don''t understand. It''s not about who is worthy. It''s about how best to direct the beast while you have him."


    "And yet you have wielded him with precision," the phantom countered, unwavering. Stalwart. Pristine. "You have sent his logic and his analysis and his cold calculation against your enemies, and those who would hurt this world. You have wielded the unwieldable in the service of the greater good. Lines have been crossed, but they have been necessary, and you have fallen no further."


    It tilted its head, the purple in its eyes expanding to cover every inch of the sclera. A chill slowly rose along my spine as I stared into vibrant pools of aether-purple. I felt something in the depths of my soul ring in resonance as I was drawn deeper and deeper into those pits.


    Within them, I saw infinity. I saw men dying beneath a violet blade in a crimson tide. But it was not indiscriminate. The sword seemed to move on its own, judging each and every corpse it kissed with its impossible translucence. On and on it went, threading through endless battlefields.


    And high above that battlefield, I sensed something vast and great and omnipresent, watching with something that could not be called an eye. It judged as much as the sword, both of them dancing in tandem to bestow death.


    It was a crown, gleaming and white-gold against the bloody sunset. And that crown was wreathed in tapestries of aether of the past and present and future and everything there ever was.


    The vision subsided, leaving me panting as I struggled for breath. Sweat beaded along my skin as I tore my eyes away from that purple expanse, trying to understand what had just happened.


    My mana core pulsed painfully as I took a hesitant, fearful step back from the shade in front of me. That vision I''d seen¡ªthat omnipresent swirl of aether as it whirled around us both¡ªsomething was wrong. I''d made some sort of miscalculation, or I''d misunderstood something. I could sense it like a fighter senses the chopping whistle of an executioner''s axe. The sword in my hand¡ªDawn''s Ballad, my ever-present companion¡ªfelt alien and stark. I had just seen it tearing its way through my enemies for a goal I couldn''t understand. Now it was heavy and leaden between my sweat-slick palms as my anger all but evaporated in the face of my fear.


    Thunder rumbled overhead.


    When I spoke next, I tried to suppress the waver in my voice. I tried to keep my Adam''s apple from bobbing in suppressed fear.


    "What are you?"


    King Grey¡ªor whatever it was¡ªpresented the barest inflection of a smile. I wondered how many tons of force must have been necessary to even budge that static line of unchanging emotion to draw them upward, but it only managed a fraction of a smile.


    The being turned around slowly, its steel armor absorbing the light. The light battle garb seemed to absorb every inch of the coming storm.


    "So long have you judged, King Arthur," it said, striding away from me. Its boots made no audible sound, but I could hear their clanking steps. "And you have been judged in turn."


    The phantom thing stared out over the distant plains, facing away from me and showing only its broad, plated back. "So long you have endured and assumed, holding to your prejudices and desires. But now, you ask. And I shall answer."


    The being began to shift, its form rippling in vibrant splashes of purple that seemed to unfold from unreality itself. I felt my breath catch in my throat, warmth spreading across my body as I watched it settle into an unfamiliar form.


    They started with long, flowing fire-red hair and martial robes, with the vague outline of a woman as they stood higher. She looked regal and powerful, each line of her physique toned to a warrior''s perfection.


    "We are Aurora Asclepius'' desire for her son to prosper," the being started, its voice now feminine and melodic. "We are her soul-sworn hope for a brighter future."


    And as they spoke, their illusory form continued to shift and turn. Red hair became brilliant, impossible silver. The harsh, sharp angles of the woman softened into something more familiar, yet somehow not. Runes of yellow adorned every inch of its skin as purple whispered about them. "We are Sylvia Indrath''s plea for a worthy successor to the World. We are every Indrath that came before, led and bound by fell purpose and reforged into something new."


    I felt something catch in my throat as I watched the being continue to shift and change, like slides in film. Awe and something more pulsed from my mana core as the world seemed to rewrite itself around the specter. The shapes formed and changed like something from an old tale, each flash nearly too much for me to catch. And still, they continued. "We are Sylvie Indrath''s need for a father and bond. We are her will for Arthur Leywin''s survival and better future. We are Tessia Eralith''s cry for something she did not understand to survive another day, imbued with every ounce of love."


    Platinum silver hair shifted to wheat-blonde, then to gunmetal gray. Dawn''s Ballad sang in my sweaty palm. Familiar features adorned the being as I watched them from behind, transfixed. The words uttered shifted in voice, but the dry monotone never left. Yet somehow, it seemed to grow in strength with each syllable, rising up into the dark of the coming storm like an offering to the gods.


    And that long, gunmetal gray hair finally shifted to strawberry blonde locks that brushed about the shoulders. It wasn''t as familiar as the last few, but I knew who it was regardless. I had fought this person and nearly killed him.


    And he had saved me, in the end, from a power I had thought abandoned me.


    "We are Toren Daen''s wish that you find an ending to your story," the being finally said. "We are his desire for your life to be different from your last, so that you might find that house along the seashore with your family."


    The being turned back around, seeming larger somehow as they observed me with Toren Daen''s features. Those little pinprick orange eyes peered into my soul, just like they always had.


    "And we are you," they said, shifting form one more time. That golden-red hair darkened, shot through with streaks of brown that dulled the gold. Those burning-coal eyes inverted, becoming a frightening azure. "Together, King Arthur, we make a weapon fit to lay claim to the World itself; if only you are worthy."


    Aether gathered around the ethereal being as I stared into a mirrored version of myself. The motes of purple danced amidst the reds and greens and yellows and blues as this refracted being stepped forward, matching me in height.


    "You asked what I am, King Arthur? It is simple. Gladium regis et coronam."


    The Latin flowed through my mind, slow as tar as I struggled to process everything. Part of me wanted to fall to my knees, to block out everything that I didn''t understand. I didn''t know what this being was. I didn''t understand what it was trying to tell me. I didn''t know if I was still mad.


    But as some distant, tired part of my mind slowly translated the Latin uttered by the strange phantom bearing my face, I felt as if a ray of sunlight had pierced the clouds high above.


    The king''s sword and crown.


    My wavering eyes drifted down to my pale, scarred skin, worn and trained to near perfection by every day in this world. I laid Dawn''s Ballad across my hands, sensing the connection I had with it. Sensing how it and the acclorite that infused every inch of my body was the same, how I had become the weapon.


    The acclorite. The sword pulled from the stone. The right to rule.


    The being''s eyes¡ªmy eyes¡ªflashed in tune with a crack of lightning overhead.


    I allowed my mind to drift down through the sword and the acclorite in my blood on an instinct I had never before realized. I remembered how I called the world to my will to influence aether, infusing it into my spells and strengthening my body.


    I had thought it was my bond with Sylvie that had allowed that influence. I had thought I''d somehow gained insight to use hers. But now, I realized it was a different kind of bond that had guided my hand. A bond that had always been present since my battle with Spellsong, when everything had changed.


    My eyes traced along the ever-sharp violet of the thin blade in my hands as my chest shuddered, tears blurring the edges of my vision. I hadn''t been mad. This thing I saw out of the corner of my perception? This haunting image that had always been there, silently weighing my every move?


    I thought I''d been insane. That it had all finally broken me, and I''d doomed myself to utter failure.


    And after all of it, I let out a slight, bitter laugh. I thought I should be angry at the ghost in front of me for tormenting me like some sort of forgotten spirit. But right now, I was too relieved by the affirmation that I wasn''t insane to feel anything else. "Am I worthy?" I asked quietly. "Have I passed whatever test you''ve laid for me, Regis?"


    I said the last part with a tinge of mockery, twisting the Latin into a knife that I hoped to drive into this manifestation''s heart.


    "You will know when the time comes," Regis replied, his features bleeding back into the nondescript, empty attire of King Grey. Auburn hair shortened, becoming a dirty, hopeless blonde. "This I can promise."


    I felt a sneer tug at the edge of my lips as my hands tightened around the edges of Dawn''s Ballad. "So that''s what it''s back to, isn''t it?" I said with renewed confidence and anger. "Just as it always was with Rinia, so it is with you?"


    Regis tilted his head ever-so-slightly, staring dully through me. I could sense our bond now. Where the connection I had with Sylvie was one of light red silk and flowing parchment outlined with the ink of love and care, I was anchored to it by coils of steel drenched in blood and solidified in flesh.


    "It is not my grace you need, King Arthur," it said evenly. "But that of the World''s. I am but the messenger, the avenue of power. It is through me that you are judged, but it is not I who hands down judgment."


    I snorted derisively, feeling a strange mix of loose and coiled at this thing''s cryptic words of iron. "So this has all been some sort of test, then? Some sort of trial for some greater thing to judge me worthy? And I''m guessing you don''t know what is judging me either, do you?"


    Regis considered this for a moment, staring through me as ever. "I do not know. I am the weapon and the crown, nothing more."


    I walked past the being, sensing as black wings and dark scales approached on the wind. Sylvie was surging toward me at speed, ready as she would ever be for this confrontation with my best friend from my past life.


    Is it all some sort of demented test by some distant, divine entity? I wondered, feeling suddenly helpless as my bond''s yellow-gold eyes brightened as they focused on me. What sort of cruel god would do a thing?


    "Toren Daen may know the answers to what you seek," the phantom said suddenly, tearing away my thoughts. I turned, looking back at the spirit of corded steel. "He knows much that he should not. Much that was not anticipated. Much that should not exist."


    I narrowed my eyes. I couldn''t get a read on this being tied to me. Malevolent and benevolent seemed like alien concepts to it, but also¡­ not. "You''re being helpful now?"


    "It has always been my desire for you to overcome all. Though I may judge how your power is used, I yet wish for you to reach that happy ending," it said cryptically. "I am many-in-one, King Arthur. Do not make assumptions."


    I stared off with Regis for a time, wondering. I couldn''t sense his emotions over that knot of power that bound us. Our bond was different. Soul-deep, just as it was with Sylvie, but different. Primordial and strong, but just as cold. I could not tell if it was being truthful.


    "Arthur!" Sylvie said over our bond, sensing my distress. "Arthur, what is wrong?"


    I stared at Regis for a time more, struggling to process everything I''d seen so far.


    I''ll tell you on the way, Sylv, I thought, finally turning away from the amalgamation of souls. Either I''m perfectly sane, or I''m more insane than I ever thought possible.


    Then I rose into the air, dread returning in anticipation of this confrontation. Everything in my life felt like it had been building toward this moment.


    It was time I saw it through.

 Chapter 301 299: Lost Chances

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Tess'' illusory mist swirled in motes of blue water mana, weaving in deep green nature mana and a quiet pulse of bright green particles of wind.


    I passed a hand through the mist, sensing the barrier between me and what was within. It clouded my senses, even as a white core mage.


    Except it wasn''t just Elshire mist. This was formed under the same base, yes, but it was something more¡ªmore dangerous, ethereal, otherworldly. Those eddies of water vapor drifted like morning fog, a grim contrast to the angry storm brewing overhead. Every now and then, lightning would flash, tendrils of electricity hurtling across the sky like chariots of light.


    But no matter how much light brightened the sky, it couldn''t pierce the veil before me or offer any glimpse deeper in.


    "Tessia knew what she was doing," Sylvie affirmed from my side. Her dark dress pooled around her like living shadow, her horns absorbing the light. "You need to trust her, Arthur."


    My bond''s golden eyes peered into the mist. Though she spoke the words to me, I could feel over our bond how they were meant to reassure herself as well.


    "It''s not Tessia I''m doubting, Sylv," I admitted, wondering if the soft grass beneath me would simply swallow my body whole. "It''s myself."


    Sylv had spent the short flight here in silence, contemplating the memories of the conversation I''d shared with her. She still couldn''t see Regis like I could, even in my memories, but she believed he was there.


    Of course, she''d believe that, I thought darkly. The only other option is that I''m mad. Would Sylvie rather face my madness?


    I shoved those thoughts from my mind, the fog of my thoughts churning like the illusory spell cast in front of me.


    "Trail me from a ways away," I said numbly, staring into the gloom. "If Nico is in there, it''s better if he thinks I''m alone."


    Sylvie''s worried eyes snapped to me. She licked her lips, her fist clenching and unclenching. She could see my logic. She even found herself somewhat agreeing with it. "If I sense you''re in any sort of danger, I''m going to help you," she said resolutely. "I''m not leaving you to your demons alone. We face them together."


    I smiled, feeling reassured by my bond''s dedication. Then I took a deep breath, calming my pounding heart, and stepped into the fog.


    The change was immediate. My senses compressed, my vision of all four elements squeezing inward as the cloaking effects of the mist eroded my senses like million-year wind across a mountain slope. I felt like a child in the dark, only able to perceive a few meters around me from how condensed and honed Tess'' spell was.


    It was disorienting, almost difficult to tell where was up and where was down. East, west, north, and south became indiscriminate points in space around me. The sensation of the earth beneath my feet drifted away, and for a moment, I wondered if I was flying.


    Tess'' skill is absurd, I thought with admiration. She''d told me a little about the training she''d done with Aya in Elshire as she sought to master the divergent powers of her Elderwood Guardian Will. But for it to cloud my senses this much, even when I''m not pushing myself to¡ª


    "Art, honey?" a familiar voice called out from the fog. Shapes and indistinct shadows swirled tauntingly around me. "Art, where are you?"


    My mother''s voice. Alice''s voice, fraught with worry and fear. It sounded frantic.


    I froze for a moment, grinding my teeth as her voice echoed from the fog like a waiting lure.


    Illusions, I reminded myself, even as my mother''s voice became more and more frantic. I stepped forward, focusing on my power and blocking out the noise as I trudged forward.


    Other voices called out to me. My father, asking how much of his son was left. Ellie, crying for her brother to save her from some monster chasing her. Sylvie yelled from the far distance, telling me that I was going to die. Tess'' weeping as she was stolen away tore at my eardrums. I could hear her begging for me to stop them, each sound echoing from the depths of the mist.


    My teeth clenched so hard they nearly cracked, the acclorite across my blood humming with aether and mana both as I struggled not to launch myself into the fog.


    "Just hallucinations," I reminded myself, ironing my will. "It''s all tricks of my mind. Just like the first time I fought the Elderwood Guardian, so many years ago."


    I walked forward, undaunted. Unbroken. Dawn''s Ballad shimmered into my hands as my eyes flicked this way and that, watching for phantoms in the dark as the cries of all those I loved washed over and around me.


    But not even the specter of Regis stood before me as I walked alone. My only solace was my bond with Sylvie not far behind me, that anchor point and surety in space allowing me to move unobstructed deeper into the demon''s den.


    "Grey!" a furious voice shouted, drowning out all the other sounds. The voices of grief and fear and terror were eclipsed by a fury so red and raw I could almost feel it peeling away at my flesh.


    I froze in place, goosebumps rising along my spine. That voice¡ªit wasn''t like all the others. But I thought I recognized it. I''d known that voice for years.


    "Turn around, Grey," that caustic voice seethed, each note laced with venom. "Turn around."


    Elijah? I thought, my mouth running dry. I hadn''t heard that voice in years. I''d worried as much as I could afford, but¡­


    But that voice felt wrong, amidst the endless slew of my loved ones begging for my help. It was disjointed, an off-key scream in the chorus of cries. And as the familiar voice crawled its way into my eardrums, through the electrical connections of my brain, and registered with meaning deep in my mana core, I finally turned.


    The illusory mist parted, as if each and every tendril were retreating away from the dark. A clearing seventy feet across opened to the roiling, angry storm high above. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled.


    The short clearing didn''t have much. Just dead grass and dying trees, the yellow speaking of death come too soon. Devoid of the sun''s warmth for so long and without the adaptations of the Elshire forest, a week without sunlight had killed every spot of grass.


    A vision from a nightmare stood at the far end of the clearing, glaring holes into my very soul with eyes the color of maddened blood.


    Elijah Knight, my best friend in this life, had seen far better days. His dark clothing was tattered and worn from days of misuse, and there were dark, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a wild nest of darkness, each lock unkempt and nearly vibrating with rage. Dark motes of hellfire¡ªthe same kind that the caster Wraith had used against me in our battle¡ªsparkled and popped in little firework explosions. All around him, black spikes of oily metal like Uto''s thrust up like spears, barring my way forward.


    And before him, clutched by the hair and with a dagger of bloodiron poised to drive through her throat, was Tessia. Her teal eyes were wide with fear as that little knife drew red blood from her pale throat, the droplet leaking down into her tattered battledress.


    "Took you long enough, cockroach," Elijah sneered, his aura dancing with malice befitting some of the strongest mages I''d ever faced. "You just can''t help yourself, can you? Rushing in and trying to play the hero."


    Tess blinked rapidly, opening her mouth to speak. Maybe to cry out and scream. But the man who had once been my childhood friend leveled the little dagger of bloodiron closer. "Quiet, Tess," he said sharply. "This is the only way."


    "Elijah," I said, wanting this to be an illusion. I wanted it to be another lie of the fog, a mistake of the darkness. I raised a hesitant arm, feeling it tremble as my fingers stretched out to him. I didn''t let myself look into Tessia''s eyes. "What happened to¡ª"


    The dark-haired mage scoffed. "Really, Grey? Really? Are you going to pretend you don''t know who I am? With that kingly fucking crown of yours? Look at me."


    I slowly lowered my hand, clenching it as I forced it not to tremble. "Let Tess go, Nico," I said quietly, my heart squeezing painfully. I could feel Grey trying to sap everything away. I could feel him trying to paint my vision in monochrome. "We can talk. Just you and me."


    When I''d set off for this confrontation, I hadn''t known what I wanted to do. What I would try and do. And even now, I didn''t know. My head was swimming. If Elijah was somehow Nico¡­ S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nico laughed, a dark, cynical sort of sound that sounded like a wolf''s dying rasp. "I was always Elijah. Always, just with a little cap on my memories that stopped me from tearing out your throat. It was Agrona''s plan so I could get close to you. It was ruined once, but that doesn''t matter anymore. But it all makes sense, this being the first thing you try. Do you think you can avoid this? You think you can run?"


    The Scythe''s eyes smoldered with repressed hate. "I tried talking to you, once. When there was still a chance for me and Cecil to have a life together. And you know what you did? You ignored me. For that bitch, Vera."


    "Grey, run," Tessia pressed out, her silvery voice strained as she stared at me. "Run! Run!"


    Nico ignored her, more spikes of bloodiron thrusting up from the ground in response to his anger. "You''re going to die here, King Grey," he seethed. "You don''t get to be a king again. You don''t get to be happy. You don''t deserve it. I do."


    I felt a snarl build in the back of my throat. I didn''t get to be happy? I didn''t deserve it?


    Maybe Nico was right. No, he was right. But I had given everything to earn what I had been given. I''d been doing all I could to give everyone else their second chances, too. And I''d finally been finding a way to be what I needed to be.


    "And you think taking Tess and replacing her with Cecilia will fix everything?" I demanded, my fury pushing me a step forward. "That''s your grand plan, now that you''re in another world? With another chance? You''re just going to¡ª"


    "I have done nothing!" Nico howled suddenly, a nova of soulfire sparking around him. Particles of black deviant fire mana roared about him in a furious torrent. His hands tensed around Tess'' hair, making her whimper. "Nothing but train for this moment, Grey! For a decade, I prepared to put you down. It''s what''s right. It doesn''t matter that Cadell isn''t here."


    I found myself marching forward. My aura swelled up around me, battling against Nico''s as my rage and sorrow twined themselves about my throat like a garotte. All around me, a domain of conjured black spikes erupted from the shadows cast by the clouds high above. Each of them hovered, dripping with black venom as they stood poised like javelins to fall down on me.


    At the moment, I didn''t care. I didn''t care that a kaleidoscope of black death loomed like a frozen rain of arrows. I didn''t care about Tess'' form clutched in Nico''s hand. I didn''t care about Sylvie''s reassuring warmth as she tried unsuccessfully to calm me down over our bond.


    "Agrona''s a mad dog, Nico," I bit back. "He spoke to me. He threatened death to everyone on this continent! That''s why I took up this godforsaken crown in the first place. Don''t you see what he''s doing? He wants the Legacy for himself, just like everyone from our old world!"


    I had to howl to be heard over the thunder. Far above, rain began to fall, the droplets heavy and laden with the sins of the past. Each one slammed into my shoulders with the force of a battering ram.


    "You think you became King for the people?" Nico barked back, his magic roiling as he prepared to throw himself at me. He looked like a half-crazed wolf, all teeth, fangs, and foam at the mouth. "You''ve only ever been a king for yourself! That''s all you ever cared about! Yourself! You killed Cecilia. You ignored me, your best friend, when I told you what was going to happen! And you think I can''t see it in your eyes right now?"


    The rain matted Nico''s dark hair to his face as it soaked through his body, making him seem even more thin and haggard. "You don''t even care that I''ve got Tess in my hand right now. You never even cared from the start. Just like on Earth, it''s empty posturing. You''re pretending to be something good and noble, but deep underneath, it''s all just empty."


    I felt my shoulders slump as my eyes drifted to where Tess was clutched by her now-dripping wet hair. I stared deep into those eyes of glimmering turquoise, considering. Weighing my next step.


    My sense of time seemed to slow in that moment as it all sunk in: the utter barrage of soulfire and bloodiron that was ready to tear my flesh apart. The uncontrollable rage spilling from Nico like toxic gas from an erupting volcano. The flexing of our auras as they meshed.


    He never got a second chance, I realized, feeling something in the back of my head click into place. How long has Agrona poured his lies and bile into Nico''s ear? How much has he been manipulated?


    I had gotten a second chance in this world to right my wrongs. I''d gotten a chance to be the man I''d thrown away, and I was on the path to making good on all I''d failed to be on Earth.


    But Nico? He hadn''t ever gotten that second chance. He was a pawn in this life, just as he''d always been in his first life, in every life. And as that realization settled like the thunderstorm''s chill into my bones, my anger and fury misted away. Pity rose in its place.


    I held out my hand one last time as I stared through the torrential downpour. A flash of lightning made Nico''s red eyes stand out, pinprick and feverish. His lips were curled back into a sneer.


    "Just put Tess down, Nico," I asked quietly. "Please. We can do better than this. It doesn''t have to be this way. You were my best friend once, in both lives. We can talk. We can do better with the chances we''ve been given. Better than being trapped by our past selves. We can be better."


    I remembered a time long ago, when Nico had offered me another way. When I had been prepared to fight Cecilia in the King''s Crown tournament, my best friend had approached me. He''d asked me to help him and his fiance run away. I could have done it. But I hadn''t taken his hand. I hadn''t taken his offer for a better future, and I had suffered for it.


    Please, Nico, I thought, feeling the weight of two lives centralize into this point. I could imagine the twisting threads and pathways of our lives diverging and intertwining again, intersecting in this pivotal moment. Please. Take my hand.


    I waited for a heartbeat. Two. Rain poured along the spears poised about me like a cage, dripping poison into the already-dead grass.


    "No," Nico replied, his voice just as venomous as before. "This is where I fix it all. This is where you die, and Cecil gets to live. She gets to have what you took from her. And you''ll just be a stain from the past."


    I allowed my eyes to close, melancholy and a strange sorrow pervading every inch of my thoughts. My hands tightened around Dawn''s Ballad.


    Nico had made his choice. Or maybe that choice had been made for him. I didn''t know. I couldn''t hesitate any longer.


    "Willow," I said, my voice quiet and monotone as a streak of Grey pervaded my thoughts. "Break him."


    Nico could only blink in confusion, his mouth twisted into a snarl. And then the thing shaped like Tess erupted from its shell, like a butterfly tearing its way from a cocoon. Where once there had been a slim elven woman, adorned in a white battle uniform with gunmetal gray hair and fierce, turquoise eyes, now something else arose.


    A beast of verdant vines, each as thick around as my torso, rose from the shell mimicking the princess. They coiled and writhed about themselves like seeking serpents, before strengthening into something greater than iron and steel.


    The mist all around began to rush inward, the vines drinking it greedily. Each of them gorged, swelling once and twice and three times over as they drank their fill. Silver flowers blossomed along every inch of the rising beast, the thing that arose nearly fifty feet tall in less than a fraction of an instant.


    I stared up at something that I had fought nearly a decade ago, deep in a corrupted dungeon. The centaur-like amalgamation of vines and roaring, impossible mana bristled with verdant energy as nature mana erupted from it in a proclamation of impossible power.


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    An Elderwood Guardian¡ªcrowned in a tiara of silver roses and alight with more power than the one I''d killed so long ago¡ªroared in tune with the thunder high above.


    This. This was the core of Tessia''s plan. To use her newest ability, honed within the lurking shadows of the Elshire Forest, to bring the monsters to light and into our trap.


    "Willow!" it roared with primordial strength, the entire forest trembling. "Break!"


    Nico had shaken off his initial surprise, shock, and fury with the skill of a trained soldier. He growled as he flew backward toward the trees, outlined in a nimbus of black fire. He waved his hand, conjuring another storm of bloodiron spikes, before letting them surge toward the colossal creature.


    They struck, each sinking deep into the vines and igniting the over-S-class mana beast with hellish soulfire. It didn''t care. It just rose like a living tide, an uncountable number of vines trying to swallow him like a whale eats a fish.


    But Nico wasn''t to be underestimated. He yelled, a veritable plume of black fire tearing out from him like a concentrated storm. Wherever the water droplets hit it, they were subsumed and decayed by the agitated black-red mana particles.


    The nimbus of soulfire slammed into the rising Elderwood Guardian with enough force to destroy a building and leave nothing left. The massive monster roared, stumbling back as it dug furrows in the earth and tore at the ground. Its tendrils burnt to ash as that Vritra deviant of mana ate away at its vines.


    And in the meantime, I was busy with the utter rain of black spikes that sought my blood. I engaged waterborne, feeling one with the falling rain as I weaved around and redirected every dark lance that came my way. They gleamed, each one of them wider than my arm as they sought to run me through. But the water mana guided me along unseen currents, pulling me away from danger with casual ease. I was a minnow in a slipstream of my own making as I weaved away from every single one of Nico''s conjured attacks, my thoughts cool and tranquil.


    "Grey!" Nico screamed as he hurtled toward me. "These tricks won''t save you from me!"


    He ignored the Elderwood Guardian as it severed the limbs burning from soulfire with an angry rumble a ways behind him. It wasn''t fast enough to keep up with the Scythe as he tried to return to his pointless vengeance.


    "This was what you wanted, Nico," I said to myself, the world of water guiding my thoughts. "You wanted the fight."


    A shadow of black wings intercepted him before he could go too far.


    Sylvie surged from the trees, her nightfeathered wings spread wide as the rain of the storm streaked off of them like a curtain. She roared in a draconic bellow, her powerful muscles flexing in the stormwinds as she intercepted the Scythe.


    Nico twisted, his eyes wild as his trembling hands tried to reorient. A little barrier of soulfire erected itself around him.


    Barely fast enough.


    Sylvie reared back, embracing her bloodright. And she breathed black fire, unrelenting in its constant stream.


    The energy slammed into his makeshift shield, overpowering it in nearly an instant. Nico streaked backward through the sky like a dark comet as he tried desperately to hold the soulfire at bay. I could see how he turned every inch of his focus, every inch of his will, toward halting my bond''s unstoppable torrent of hellfire from ripping him apart atom by atom.


    And so he didn''t notice when I raised a hand of translucent blue, calling on the water around me. Through the acclorite in my blood and my bond with Regis, I asserted my will over the aether in the world. Those particles of purple coalesced around the water mana as a tentacle formed from the very rain in the atmosphere, leading right back to my arm.


    That tendril darted up into the sky, strengthened by the aether imbued along it. It ignored the sputtering attempts of Nico''s bloodiron spikes to tear it apart, allowing each of those black javelins to fire right through.


    And then it wrapped around his foot, cinching shut like a noose.


    Nico only had a moment to look back down at me, his mouth open for one more retort as he desperately tried to keep his barrier up against Sylvie.


    I looked him in the eyes, and then engaged Burst Strike.


    My arm snapped downward as mana fired in precise timings across my shoulder, triceps, and forearms. The tendril of water in my grip stretched like a rubber band at the absurd acceleration, the loose and fluid stream suddenly growing taut.


    And then the cascading effect asserted itself, and my water tendril rebounded like a rubber band that had been stretched too far and then released. The sound barrier broke as the tentacle cracked downward faster than a whip, Nico''s body dragged along with it.


    The Scythe slammed into the earth, making a crater large enough to fit a few houses. The tremors from the impact traveled beneath my waterborne feet, dust and debris erupting into the air from the cataclysmic blow.


    I opened my fist, allowing the water tendril to drift away. Slowly, I released my hold on my waterborne form, remembering what it was like to be a human once again.


    Sylvie landed a moment later, still in her full draconic glory. Her amber eyes glinted as they glared at the nearby crater, motes of black fire jumping from between her teeth.


    "He isn''t dead, Arthur," she thought to me, still wary. "Don''t let your guard down."


    I know, I thought darkly, the rain dripping past my eyelashes. I can still sense him.


    Willow¡ªor one of her clones, or whatever it was¡ªtrundled over, blotting out the sky with its massive bulk. It rumbled something, the collage of verdant vines and silver roses entirely unintelligible to people who weren''t Tess.


    "Stay here," I ordered, my voice cool and impassive as I stared out at the crater. "Both of you."


    And then I began to walk.


    There was a kind of power to footsteps. Depending on how one placed their feet and moved their body, the world would seem to bend around them, focusing on each of their movements. Confidence could be felt in the subtlest of things. Power could be conveyed in every inflection of the body, an art as old as war itself.


    Yet as I strode down the edges of the massive crater Nico''s body had made, my boots sinking into the mud, I didn''t care anymore about the sound of my footsteps. The mud clawed at the edges of my boots, seeking to haul me down into the abyss of the underworld.


    And in lockstep, Regis marched. The mud did not hold his plated greaves. The rain did not cling to his face. He seemed separated from it all as he marched with the precision of a king, mirroring my every stride as we approached an old friend.


    Nico lay broken at the bottom of the crater. His body was twisted at all the wrong angles, his limbs splayed out like broken tree branches. The hammering water stole the blood leaking from his body as he coughed, the sound wet and ragged. The mud clawed at his hair like the skeletal limbs of the damned pulling him down¡ªdown to the same place we both belonged to.


    Black motes of corrupted fire mana sparkled and popped around him, little embers of soulfire trying to heal his body. I could almost see how they pulled and twisted his lifeforce, drawing on it to mend the broken sack of meat and shattered bones he''d become. But the impact had dazed him and rattled his core. He couldn''t muster the willpower to use whatever healing arts he had to their full efficiency.


    Dawn''s Ballad reflected the lightning far ahead, my fingers clenching around the matte-black hilt as I slowly loped forward. I could feel Grey slowly clawing at my emotions, ripping and tearing them away in an effort to avoid the pain and misery. Things so full of color started to lose their saturation, the rain washing the paint of life from each and every aspect of my vision.


    Lightning flashed down from the sky overhead like the lance of an angry god, the voltaic fury seeking to halt me in my forward march. With a casual backhand, I parried the ionized fury of the storm with Dawn''s Ballad, turning it aside without a single breath lost. The brilliant white light might have blinded me before, when I could see color and warmth.


    The tendrils of lightning carved smoking furrows into the crater as the bolt shattered, a screaming hum drowning out all other sounds. And still I marched, even as the smoke rose from the scorched and electrified earth.


    I reached the Scythe before long. He coughed blood, spittle falling down his cheek as he stared up at me.


    "Grey," he wheezed, his ribs rattling inside his chest, "you don''t¡­ don''t get to do this."


    My fingers slowly tightened around my blade. I felt Regis'' judgment on my back, his eyes peering through my very soul.


    I remained silent, my eyes dull as I stared down at the broken body at my feet. This was a threat to all I''d cared for. Everything I''d known. Grey would demand I end his life right here, right now.


    "It''s not¡­ fair," he breathed, still angry. It was like it was all the broken wretch that had once been my friend could feel as he tried to regain control of his mana. "You don''t get to be this¡­ monster again, Grey. It''s not right. I''ll¡ª"


    "My name isn''t Grey," I said, my voice as devoid of inflection as Regis'' had been. "My name is Arthur, Nico. Grey died years ago, alone in his bed. He died when Cecilia let him kill her to escape the fate of being controlled."


    "Liar!" Nico wheezed, trying to lunge at me. He fell back pitifully to the mud, the souls of the damned pulled him back to the ground. His words were becoming more certain, more controlled. His healing was beginning to mend the internal injuries he''d suffered. "You think you can run from the emptiness I see in your eyes? You''re just as emotionless as¡ª"


    "I don''t want to look at you like this, old friend," I replied evenly, cutting through his words. "I don''t want to look at you and feel the pain and pity about what Agrona has twisted you into becoming. So I put it aside, when I can be with those I love."


    I leaned over, perfectly in control as I stared deep into Nico''s bloodshot eyes. "When this is over, I''ll return to them. Tessia, my parents, Ellie, Sylvie¡­ And I''ll let this mask fall. I''ll feel everything I couldn''t afford right now, and they will help me bear that burden. But right now, I will not look at you and let your hatred hurt me, too. I won''t let my past drag me down into the pit."


    I didn''t know what it was in my words. Something about the emotionless inflection and steadiness of it stole the life from my oldest friend''s cheeks.


    For the first time, I thought I could see my words sinking in. Landing somewhere deep in his soul as he gritted his teeth, his disfigured body a bundle of broken matchsticks. For a moment, there wasn''t the rolling of thunder or the flashes of lightning.


    For a moment, we were children again, running through the rain in Earth''s long-forgotten alleys. We were boys who didn''t know anything about the world, each of us scrounging up whatever we could find and sell to keep Headmaster Wilbeck''s orphanage afloat.


    Nico''s mouth opened, his lips nearly as pale as his corpse-stretched skin. I wondered what he was going to say, then. I wondered if he''d turn it all aside. He could take my hand. Things could be better.


    And then a heartbeat passed, and whatever it was that I had grasped slipped from my fingers. If I had not walled myself off with Grey, it might have brought me to tears as it escaped like sand seeping through an hourglass. Time tore it away, as it tore all things away.


    "Tessia isn''t here," he seethed, still unable to move. "I''m going to beat the information from you, Grey. Agrona promised me¡ª"


    I sighed, releasing some hope I''d held deep in my soul.


    And then I turned away from Nico''s broken body, my movements mechanical and precise. I started to walk away, looking up at where Sylvie''s massive draconic body loomed over the edge of the crater. I could sense her amber eyes on me as her emotions wrapped me in subtle mourning.


    "Attack me again, and I will kill you," I said simply, allowing my deadened voice to carry through the downpour. My oldest friend had risen to unsteady feet, a snarl on his lips and his mana surging again. "I don''t want to kill another friend, Nico. I don''t want fate to repeat itself. Don''t force my hand."


    For all the rage imbued in Nico''s soul, it seemed a modicum of reason was returning to him. I could sense him coiling like a serpent ready to strike, wanting desperately to attack my unguarded back.


    "Grey!" he yelled, his aura fluctuating as he vented his rage. "You don''t get to walk away from me! You don''t just get to walk away!"


    I continued to move, maintaining my steady breathing. In, and out. In, and out. Behind me, I could hear the man who had once been my best friend in both lives break out into a furious ranting fit for a child. Bloodiron erupted around him, carried on nimbuses of soulfire. He demanded I turn back around. He demanded I face him. He demanded that I own up for all that I had done.


    But he didn''t understand. He didn''t see, blindsided and broken as he was by his rage, that I had been doing what he''d demanded of me all along.


    The steps I took as I climbed the edge of the crater were rejuvenating, in a way. I wondered if this was what Dante Alighieri had felt as he''d descended into the depths of Hell, before ascending along the pathway of Purgatorio. I didn''t feel lighter. Not really. But I felt right.


    And then the pulse of aether came.


    It traveled over my senses like the world''s loudest gong, the reverberations shaking even my corded steel bond with Regis. I could sense it rising through my feet and into my brain, like an earthquake''s tremor.


    I knew that aether. I had sensed it before, fought in it, and been reborn in it. The mana signature that accompanied it a moment later pulsed in the rhythm of a star, flinging flame and power about in a controlled corona of invisible aura.


    I felt my mask of Grey crack slightly as I turned around again, hearing the fluttering of crystalline wings over the sound of the storm.


    Toren Daen descended from the clouds like an angel from heaven itself. The rain did not touch him. His hair remained dry and his clothes unbothered by the downpour, as if he too were set apart from it all. Instead, the liquid streamed off of a translucent, reflective shroud of mana as his conjured wings turned aside the rain. His eyes glowed the bright orange of a funeral pyre as he descended into the pit.


    We stared at each other for a moment. My hands tensed around Dawn''s Ballad as he, too, descended the steps of hell from somewhere above.


    Spellsong landed beside Nico with barely a sound, something haunted and shadowed to his features. He didn''t say anything, just stared silently at the Scythe.


    Nico''s reaction was not so muted. His teeth flashed in a snarl as he whirled on the phoenix-bound mage, his anger finally finding a new outlet to vent to. "Spellsong!" he snarled, marching toward the man with murder in his eyes. "You took too fucking long! I demanded your presence ages ago! And only now you show up?"


    Toren''s eyes swept along the rims of the massive crater, that pyre within darkening to something dull. "I''m here now, Nico," he said after a moment, his voice soft. "What were you doing here? What''s happened?"


    My aura tightened as I called on my mana, my jaw working. Sylvie had told me about her conversations with Toren Daen. He wasn''t hostile to her. He''d tried to help her, using knowledge of some far-gone future. And then he''d fought Taci Thyestes, and won.


    Could I beat him in a fight if it came down to it? I wondered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. If he and Nico try to fight Sylv, the Elderwood Guardian, and me, will we be able to make it through?


    I wasn''t sure. But as Toren stood down there, listening to Nico rant and rave and make demands, I realized something else.


    This mage wanted to prevent the descent of the Legacy, didn''t he? And what was it that he had said when we''d fought? When he''d finally released his restraints, what had he bellowed into the dark?


    "I only need to kill one. One anchor."


    Nico jabbed a finger in my direction like a spear. "You need to fight him, Daen!" he sneered, trying to puff himself up and make himself look bigger. "That''s the only chance there is. That''s the only hope there is! He knows where Tess is. And if you break that Lance tether, things can be made right."


    Toren didn''t respond for a moment, his crystalline wings shuddering as he looked at Nico. "That''s your only hope?" he echoed, his voice sounding strained. Around him the ambient mana warped in a way I couldn''t understand, particles rising and falling with his breath. His intent.


    Nico growled, and for the second time, something tore free from the all-consuming rage. "Do you want me to say it, huh? Like the last fucking time? Is that what it''s going to take for you to do the right thing?"


    I watched, feeling some part of my mask of Grey crack further as sadness and resignation welled up from my soul. Nico thrust his finger at me again, accusing me. "He''s gone and done everything wrong again! Being a king, acting for himself, all of it! And Cecilia is dead."


    Nico''s hand lashed out, and he grabbed at the crystalline shroud around Spellsong as his grief tore its way from his very soul, his mana resonating in some strange way with Toren''s. The Vritra-blooded mage''s voice shook with the contained weight of decades of pain. "She''s gone, Daen. And he killed her. And you''re my only hope that she can have a life again."


    Tears, I realized with a start. Tears were streaking down Nico''s face, before the rain swallowed them whole. "Is that what you want me to say? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? I have nothing else left. There''s nothing else in this shitty world worth fighting for."


    Toren''s eyes focused on the Scythe in front of him. I thought his shoulders might have trembled. "You can make something," he said, his voice almost shaking. "You can make something else in this world that''s worthwhile. This ''Cecilia'' is gone, but there''s¡­ There''s so much more to life than just¡ª"


    "Just make it better, damn you!" Nico cried, slamming a weak fist against Toren''s face. It didn''t even crater his shroud. "That''s your job! You''re the only one who can. I just want her back. I want us to be happy, together. That''s all I''ve ever wanted. Everything can be fixed, right now!"


    Spellsong hadn''t been struck by Nico''s punch, but his face contorted as if a knife had been rammed into his heart. He worked his jaw, his eyes shaking. "Nico, don''t you see?" he whispered, hoarse. "She can''t come back. Her power will only lead to her own enslavement. That''s¡­ that''s why she let herself die in the first place. Trayden, Etharia, and now Agrona. Let her rest, for your own sake."


    Toren ignored Nico''s rage, ignored his brittle, trembling anger. Instead, he took the young man by the shoulders, looking my oldest friend deep in the eyes. "Your core. It''s warping you, changing you, hurting you. I can fix it, maybe. I healed Viessa¡­ It''s not the same, but close. You needn''t be a slave. And without her¡­ You aren''t alone. You wouldn''t believe me, but I promise¡­ I promise that I can under¡ª"


    Nico''s tears fell in tune with the rain, but an unnerving, uneasy steadiness came to his chest, his breathing sure in a way that seemed to defy the mana itself. For all the rage he''d shown, the calm that seemed to suffuse him left a sense of hollowness. He looked up at Toren Daen like a drowned soul staring up at the sky from beneath the water, eyes too wide to be truly alive.


    "You don''t get it, do you, Spellsong? You never got it," he whispered, hardly audible. "Better slaves together than a slave alone."


    Toren flinched.


    Nico let out a trembling breath. "I''m so sick of talking. Will you do your job, now? Fix this mess?" the Scythe demanded quietly. "Or do I need to command you like a dog?"


    Toren''s fingers tensed, then they fell away from Nico''s shoulders. Hesitantly, as if letting go of something that might return a moment later. "Alright," he finally said. "Okay. I''ll fix it."


    I felt my shoulders loosen as I stared dully down at the interaction. My eyes met Toren''s for that brief moment as Dawn''s Ballad shimmered away. He had always been this strange sort of enigma, an ally and enemy both that could never be fully understood.


    But as I stared into the windows to his soul, I saw something in there both hardening and cracking at the same time.


    Nico heaved for breath, slumping as Toren''s words reached him. That aura of calm broke away like a Grey mask, the strength it demanded burdening him more than anything before. He looked like he was on the verge of sobbing, all that rage and unnatural anger finally spilling over into the true grief it tried to mask. The grief of a man who had never been allowed to move on. The grief of someone who had never been given a second chance to see the world with all its color and light, and clung only to what he thought he knew.


    The grief of a man whose heart had been turned Grey by the death of the woman he''d loved. Shifted to something else.


    A tear rolled down my cheek as I watched from above, before that too became one with the rain.


    Nico pulled himself back to his full height, heaving as he turned to glare at me. Around him, bloodiron spikes rose like ghastly spears along a battle''s front. "Are you ready, Grey?" he taunted, composed once more. "It''s about time we¡ª"


    Toren''s hand settled onto Nico''s shoulder, shrouded in talons of reflective crystal mana. Nico seemed to register it belatedly as Spellsong turned him back around with a simple motion. The phoenix-borne mage looked him in the face, in the soul.


    The conjured dagger didn''t make a single noise as it slid beneath Nico''s ribs, through his flesh, and into his heart in a little flicker of aether. The sound of flesh shearing and the spraying of blood was absorbed by the storm.


    But I could sense it, in my own little way. I knew what it sounded like. I knew what it felt like, to kill someone so intimately. I''d done so once before, as Cecilia had allowed herself to die.


    My oldest friend didn''t say anything as he stared up at Spellsong. His hands tried to clutch at the phoenix mage again, incomprehension, confusion, and so much more flashing across his familiar features. He let out a little wheeze of pain.


    Toren held onto his shrouded dagger, wrapping an arm around Nico''s shoulders as the Scythe began to crumble. Spellsong knelt slowly, almost tenderly, as he laid the Scythe down, never looking away from his eyes. Blood streamed between them, raw and red and unmistakable.


    Nico didn''t say anything more. His mouth remained open as he stared up at Spellsong, fear warring inside of him as thunder flashed and his body failed.


    And then he was gone, taken by the aether to who-knew-where. Nico''s core slowly evaporated as he died, his eyes losing color and leaching to an empty grey. He hadn''t struggled in death. His body lay limply in Toren''s arms, like a broken sinner cradled by an angel.


    I stared down at the scene as my mask of Grey finally shattered. Toren''s shroud misted away as the rain began to soak him to the bone, clinging to his hair and reminding him of his mortality. His otherworldly wings evaporated as he cradled Nico''s unseeing corpse, holding it gently. Rocking it back and forth like a child that might wake again.


    And then he began to weep.

 Chapter 302 300: Crescendo

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    The sound of Toren Daen''s quiet sobs fell, deadened and muted, upon my ears as I, too, tried to suppress the welling pain in my heart. The sounds that wrenched themselves from Spellsong''s throat weren''t the kind that you projected to the world, unable to keep them quiet and contained. It wasn''t an eruption of pain and misery that tore its way from the throat until you were ragged and sore.


    No. This was the weeping of something seeping through cracks that had been open for a long time. It was soft and subdued, the sort of sorrow that comes after seeing a man dying on the side of the road. It was the kind of sorrow that came from necessity and pain all at once, where there was that endless question of what could have been done otherwise.


    Sylvie was the first to move. As I stood transfixed at the top of the crater, my draconic bond glided past me, the rain drenching her as much as anyone else. The rims of her dress came away muddy with every step, brown leaching into the black.


    She approached Toren Daen without a word, her emotions clear and poignant over our bond. Her golden eyes were warm with characteristic compassion as she knelt across from Toren, but she said nothing as his tears continued to fall.


    I stayed back. I wasn''t certain I could walk back down the stairway of Hell and look into Nico''s empty eyes. I wasn''t certain I could keep myself whole.


    I didn''t know how long it continued like that. Long enough that the runic chains along Toren''s arms flickered a deep, bloody red, pulsing for a few moments before something I couldn''t understand shifted about him. Long enough that his weeping ceased, draining into something hollow and reserved as he cradled Nico''s corpse. Long enough that I reasserted control over my frayed emotions, pulling them into a semblance of order.


    At my side, Regis stared on impassively, uncaring. The Elderwood Guardian crooned, sinking and compressing from the weight of everything around us.


    Toren let out a shuddering breath, his breath misting in the cool rain. For the moment, the downpour had lightened to a drizzle, but the phoenix-blooded mage was still drenched to the bone. He gently laid Nico''s body on the ground, his shifting eyes clouded.


    "It feels wrong to leave his body here, cold in the rain," he muttered, as if just now finding the words. His voice was a deceptively calm baritone, with just the slightest hint of a quiver. The light-haired mage brushed his hand across Nico''s eyes, closing the lids as raindrops splashed off of them. "Too much wrong has happened already to him."


    As Toren spoke, I finally forced my mechanical limbs to move. I put one foot in front of the other, moving the muscles that controlled my forward momentum.


    Sylvie raised a slender hand, brushing it through Nico''s hair and pushing it away from his face. She pursed her lips, staring down at the body as she contemplated what she would do.


    My bond had known Elijah, just as I did.


    "Nico did not deserve this kind of end," my bond agreed somberly. "It wasn''t right. But he doesn''t deserve to just rot in a ditch, either. Forgotten. Abandoned."


    I stopped once I reached them, my breath shuddering as I forced myself to stare down at the body of the man who had been my best friend in two lives. And in both, I had failed him. His skin was already unnaturally pale. That hadn''t changed, even in death.


    But as I looked down at the face, which had been twisted in hideous, rabid snarls and horrid anger, I wanted to imagine it was peaceful, now. Those muscles didn''t tense and pull his lips into sneers or make his eyes flash with malevolence. I could imagine that he was at peace, in some sense of the word.


    "Will he find another life, somewhere?" I asked, my voice somber as I stared down at the familiar features. "Will he get that second chance, phoenix-born?"


    The arts of the phoenix were those of rebirth and reincarnation. Toren surely knew some of them.


    "I don''t know," Spellsong replied quietly. Gently, he passed Nico''s body to Sylvie, who took it with the same sort of sorrowful reverence. "I hope so. I want him to be happy, too."


    My head bowed. It was the answer I''d expected, but it hurt all the same.


    Toren''s jaw worked, and it looked like he''d swallowed something horrid and was struggling to cough it back up. "He was broken inside. His mind was twisted and pulled by Agrona''s spells. Like dough, beaten and mashed and pulped by a fist."


    Spellsong looked strangely human as he stayed there, kneeling with his head bowed. His shoulders rose and fell with every breath, the drizzle of the rain pinging off his martial clothing. "But it''s done now," he whispered. "No Legacy. No death. No destruction."


    He looked up at Sylvie imploringly as he slowly stood. "Nobody can know I did it."


    My bond nodded slowly, her eyes sad.


    I allowed myself to think of the reason Toren had come here. It felt just as planned as Tess'' trap, in a way. He swooped in at the last minute, ensuring that Nico would die, and hoping that the blame for the killing stroke would not fall on him. Just like Seris Vritra, he sought to undermine the High Sovereign''s plans from within.


    My fists clenched as I stared down at my kneeling bond, still tracing Elijah''s features. "In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity," I muttered dully, thinking of an old saying from Earth.


    Abruptly, Toren barked out a sardonic laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly as he turned away from us, staring up at the sky. He waved his hand, summoning something from his dimension ring: an anvil-shaped artifact that swirled with aether and mana.


    My eyes widened as I honed in on the item, recognizing the aetheric signature radiating off of it immediately. Sylvie, too, sensed what I did. The same sort of fluctuations were there as around the points of massacres across Sapin. A teleportation artifact.


    But Toren''s next words derailed that line of thought with the same efficiency of a massive boulder placed atop train tracks, the towering monolith colliding with the steam engine of my mind.


    "Sun Tzu," he chuckled, finding some sort of relief in each syllable uttered. "The Art of War. Who would have guessed that book still existed?"


    I focused on Toren with abrupt intensity, catching on to his words. Because I had been quoting that book from a general in a world past, and Toren had accurately pieced it together. That served to refocus me, to draw me onto another truth.


    Toren Daen was a reincarnate. He knew me. He knew Nico. Somehow, he''d known about both of us. About Tessia''s curse in her core. About why Cecilia slew herself¡­ He knew so much.


    And yet I didn''t know him.


    Sylvie had theorized that Toren was some sort of Returner, like the kind from novels and stories on Earth. She thought he was a man who had gotten a second chance, just like I had, after some sort of doomed future. A future where the Legacy had descended, where he''d been a companion of mine and I''d told him everything.


    I''d thought the idea impossible. Fantastical. Even aether itself¡­ Even aether itself couldn''t be that powerful, could it? Yet how else would he know of Cecilia''s sacrifice, something kept close in every life? It was too absurd. But what was more fantastically absurd than being born again in another world? What was more absurd than the idea of reincarnation itself?


    "Wait," Sylv said abruptly as Toren turned to leave, her words softer than the late summer rain. "You made a promise to me."


    Toren stopped abruptly, still facing away from us.


    "You said you''d tell Arthur everything you could," my draconic bond pressed again. "When we last met, you said you would do it."


    The mage turned slowly, sweeping his gaze across us. I could see the consideration in his features: the way his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. "You''re all here. Sylvie. Arthur." His eyes drifted from my bond, then to me. His tone of voice was soft. Considering. Then his eyes¡ªeach pupil seeing too much¡ªdrifted a little bit further to the side. "And¡ªI guess Regis is here too, isn''t he?"


    For the second time in only a few minutes, I felt disorienting confusion rumble through me as Toren stared directly at the phantom shade of King Grey a few feet from me. He tilted his head, looking the figure up and down. "He looks different than I would have expected, but I guess the magical ingredients in his makeup are different than they would have been. Less Uto, and more¡­ Well."


    Sylv''s mouth opened into an astonished little oh, and I felt my jaw drop. Someone else could see Regis? Someone else knew his name?


    Some part of me¡ªsome buried part of me, deep inside¡ªstill thought that I was somehow insane. That the entire conversation with the phantom shade of King Grey across Blackbend''s walls felt like a fever dream, a vision created by the whirling storm and a mind burdened by too much.


    But as Regis tilted his head, staring at Toren with characteristic apathy and unwilling to lend even another word, I felt another measure of validating relief.


    "You can see him?" I asked, my mouth numb and my words slow. Not even Sylvie could see Regis. "I mean¡ª"


    "This being is fashioned of my soul," a new voice interrupted. It was cool, melodic, and yet also warm all at once in a paradox of color. "It is foolish to think that my son would not sense what he has always known."


    I whirled, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. Sylvie shifted nervously as my mind stuttered into one of automatic fear. The presence that voice carried, the sheer amount of power and wisdom imbued into every syllable¡­ It reminded me of Aldir on that fateful day in the Councilroom.


    A phantom stood before King Grey, tall and poised. Her fiery red hair blew in a breeze I couldn''t feel, revealing skin covered in burns. So, so many burns. But she was somehow still beautiful, despite the utter horror played across her body, or maybe because of it. She glowed with a faint outline, like an angel backlit by the setting sun. She looked as regal as a summer queen gracing the earth with her steps.


    The ghost stared down at Regis, her burning eyes peeling him apart with casual ease. I couldn''t tell if she projected interest, fear, or something else. And in turn, Regis matched the ghost with a cool, impassive stare. Unblinking and unfeeling.


    A ghost of an asura tracks Toren''s steps, I remembered Aldir saying. And this ghost looked familiar, too. Those high cheekbones framed a dignified face that I thought I might have seen once before. That shade of hair had burned brightly in a fight, not long ago.


    Aurora Asclepius. Mother of Chul, the Rogue Hero.


    "An interesting curse that you have, Weapon of the Titans," she muttered, looking Regis up and down. "A familiar one. How do you bear it?"


    "I am a sword," Regis responded immediately. "Nothing more. I am no more caged than the wind."


    The phoenix''s mouth quirked slightly, as if she were amused by this response. "So says you," she said, her tone almost mocking. "But unlife as a spirit will wear on you eventually. Have you seen to your bond with care?"


    I watched the exchange distantly, noting how¡ªfor the first time¡ªRegis'' mouth curved down into a frown. "I have done my duty."


    "You were forged from the foundations of my soul," the phoenix mused, strolling around the shade of Regis. I got the distinct impression that he was uncomfortable, something I would have never guessed from the unfeeling mask of King Grey. Aurora Asclepius drifted with the momentum and cool calculation of a predator. "If your duty forgoes compassion, then Wren failed in your creation. It is a spirit''s duty to assist those they watch to a better future, rather than simply observe. Judgment without compassion is rote cruelty."


    The phantom didn''t respond, just continued to stare ahead. "You cannot know me."


    Aurora only laughed, a melodic sound as she returned to her original place. It was the kind of laugh I heard from my mother whenever Ellie said something a little foolish: a motherly sound that resonated with grace and understanding.


    "Regis took a little piece of Aurora''s soul when you swung Dawn''s Ballad through her relic," Toren said quietly, watching the interplay of ghosts. His voice betrayed the barest hint of annoyance as he spoke. "He''s connected to you, and you''ve grown accustomed to the sense of his soul. I suppose it stands to reason you can see my mother now, too, if they''re close enough for resonance."


    The phoenix shade turned from Regis, the light drizzle falling through her as she looked me up and down. "Anchor," she said, nodding slowly. A ghost of a smile pulled at the edges of her lips, making her burned face seem brighter. "I have heard much about you, Otherworld King. Your deeds precede you."


    I resisted the urge to swallow, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Instead, I performed the barest bow of respect. "Aurora Asclepius," I said evenly. "Your name precedes you as well. I am honored to meet you."


    She heard much about me, I thought, filing her words away. That implies it is not she who knew of me so intimately, but Toren still. This cannot be dismissed so simply.


    "Arthur," Sylvie said quietly, seeming uncertain. She held Nico''s body close, as if it might stave off the chill, "I can''t see what you''re looking at. Is it¡­"


    My gaze darted to the dragon at my feet. I could feel her emotions over our bond so purely. She wanted to see, too. She didn''t want to keep being blind. Every moment where Regis bored his metaphysical holes through my soul and she was unable to bear that burden, too, was a burden all on its own.


    Toren took a few steps forward, disrupting my thoughts. He looked up at me for a moment, licking his lips nervously, before kneeling in front of Sylvie. "Do you trust me? I can show you what he sees."


    Sylv looked up at me, gauging my emotions. I nodded slowly in affirmation, unsure where this would lead.


    Toren pressed a couple of fingers to his heart, and I felt his aether pulse. My eyes widened as purple motes of that purest energy flowed from his chest with control I could hardly believe, before it flowed to his fingertips. And when he drew them from his heart and pressed them above Sylv''s, a solid tendril of energy followed.


    No, I thought. Not a tendril. A vein.


    As the process continued, Aurora Asclepius knelt beside Toren as well, seeming to drift like some sort of ethereal fae. She rested her arms on his back in a comforting, motherly measure that must have been done a thousand times.


    The ghost watched the young man with a fond warmth that I understood. The same warmth that I''d seen in the moment I''d entered this world, crying in a straw hut in the middle of Ashber. Watching the ghost of an asura stand with Toren Daen made something in the back of my mind¡ªsomething I''d kept shuttered and locked away since this war started in earnest¡ªseep free like sand through the fingers.


    I struggled against the tears that burned in the back of my eyes. How long has it been since I''ve spoken to Mom?


    Reynolds still called me son. But¡­ would Alice call me that? After everything I''d done?


    Regis turned away from the scene, the shade sizzling into distorted mist, and then nothing at all. Something about his conversation with the phoenix shade had shaken him.


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    Sylv sensed my heavy, mourning emotions as I watched the slow interplay of man and bond, so much different than my own. "Arthur," she thought softly, "are you okay?"


    I swallowed back a shaky breath, the weight of everything that had been happening during this storm compounding more. I felt like a rubber band pulled in too many directions. First with Nico, then with this, and¡­


    I sniffled a little. It''s nothing, Sylv, I thought back. It''s just¡­ you''ll see.


    And when my draconic bond¡ªkneeling in the mud and with Nico''s cooling body held close to her her chest¡ªlooked at Toren Daen again, their hearts beating in rhythm with a vein of aether linking them together, her breath choked in her throat.


    Toren smiled slightly, still kneeling, Aurora''s burned hand on his shoulder. "It''s only fair, really," he said softly. "I know so much about both of you. More than I have any right to know. It eases me, for you to know a bit more of me."


    The point of all this slowly returned to me as I pulled myself away from the awe and uncertainty. Toren still knelt across from Sylvie in the mud, his head bowed and enshrouded by a loving ghost.


    "I know of a future," he finally said, his hands clenching over his knees. "A future that could have been."


    I pressed my lips together, silent. Sylv pushed past her shock at Aurora''s presence. "Did you live it?" she asked, sounding for a moment like the young girl she technically was. "Were you reincarnated here, too, and then chose to go back? When things went wrong?"


    Surprisingly, it was Aurora who spoke next. "Nothing of that nature, young Indrath," she chided, her tone warm in a way that made red rise in my bond''s cheeks. "Though it was I who brought my son''s soul here from Earth and bonded him, there was no influence of aevum that I can attest to. This timeline is the first that Toren has ever been in this world himself."


    Sylvie frowned, even more confused. She opened her mouth to ask something again, looked at Aurora''s wry smile, then closed it, flushing again. It was an expression I had rarely ever seen on my foxy dragon''s face.


    But my analytical mind caught on one facet of the phoenix''s words. The first time that Toren has ever been in this world himself.


    Toren raised his head, looking at me. His eyes flicked about with micromovements, each of them scanning the lines of my face. "You caught the last part of Aurora''s words, didn''t you? You''re smart, Arthur. You can see the big picture when others can''t."


    My brow furrowed, a slight hint of unease building in my stomach. Spellsong''s eyes felt too knowing for me. "And why do you think so?"


    Toren was quiet for a few seconds. "You haven''t ever worn glasses," he said after a moment, giving me the strangest look. "You certainly know how they work. When light shines through the lens, it refracts. The waves bend, focusing and warping the image coming through. Depending on what kind of glasses you wear¡ªwhether the lenses are red, blue, green, or whatever¡ªyou can filter out the light of the world around you, or highlight another color. You can entirely change your perspective just from something over your eyes."


    Toren began to pace back and forth in the mud. He appeared deeply in thought, his brow furrowed and the muscles of his face almost contorted as if he were in pain.


    "My knowledge of the future was nothing like Rinia''s," he said after a moment. "It wasn''t anything like Mordain''s either. I think it''s the strangest form of knowledge I''ve ever heard of. It was shaded by a unique perspective when it was granted to me, way back on Earth. I mean, Rinia and Mordain both look at possible futures, I''m pretty sure, like following different threads¡ª"


    My fists tightened as Toren chuckled a bit, clearly trying to dance around something. "Get to the point, Spellsong," I said, agitation rising in my gut. "You''re trying to avoid it. But you said you''d speak."


    The young phoenix mage heaved a sigh. He took a deep breath in as if he were a sailor clinging to the mast of a ship as it approached a storm. His eyes shakily drifted to Nico''s body, and Aurora Asclepius'' shade slowly stood as well. "Sylvie wasn''t entirely wrong in her assumptions. She just had the wrong framing. I never lived in this world, but I was given the chance to watch it from¡­ a distance. Almost like Regis. Or Aurora. But also not."


    Sylvie frowned, clearly not understanding the connection. But as I looked at Toren, piecing together what he said about perspective, and I thought I did understand.


    Memories flowed through my head. Memories of a burning, orange-purple flame that used two others to haul me back from the brink. At the time, I hadn''t remembered anything of the event beyond those three bonfires.


    But as I stared at Toren, it was as if a dam I didn''t know existed finally burst in the back of my head. Words whispered months ago registered as if they had been said just now.


    "I know you. Perhaps you might not believe me. But I know you better than nearly any other. Your hopes. Your dreams. Your¡­ Your fears. I''ve watched your story play out for years. I sympathized with your struggles. I stood on the edge of my seat as you failed, then cheered as you rose again. Every step of the way, I have watched and cared for your journey, for your story. I can say so, so much."


    Toren himself had said as much at the end of our fight, hadn''t he? He had been watching like an observer from afar.


    "You watched my lives," I said after a moment, my voice hard as my face became an angry mask. "How?"


    It was a single, simple word. Three letters: but the weight they carried bore down upon him like a controlled tidal wave. The idea that someone¡ªor something¡ªhad been watching me from afar, just like Regis, sent unnerving tingles down my spine.


    And to my surprise, even Aurora Asclepius'' shade shied away from that word. It was a subtle thing in that phantom, but I had been trained in politics for decades. I saw the tightening around her eyes, the way her ethereal grace became a bit more rigid as her head tilted ever-so-slightly.


    Toren was quiet for a moment. I could sense the discomfort radiating off him like heat from a stove as he failed to meet my eyes. The ambient mana churned with that reluctant nausea. "It was given to me by a person on Earth. They used a pseudonym of a turtle, but that probably doesn''t matter. I don''t know how they got the information they did. They might have been a Seer like Rinia, or maybe something entirely different. But they were the ones that presented me with this knowledge. Every now and then, they would show me glimpses into your life in this world."


    Toren licked his lips. "I didn''t think any of it was real. Not until I came here. Then I had to make do."


    My hands clenched, my fingernails digging into my flesh. When ki had reemerged on Earth after the collapse of the Gilded Age of Technology, rumors had abounded about lost arts of divination and symbology. People began to awaken their ki centers and temper their meridians, just like old traditions of the Far East. If these techniques had merit, then perhaps the old methods of trigrams and feng shui did, too. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But none had ever borne fruit, as far as I was aware. I had done my fair share of research, but had never turned any conclusive results in my time as King.


    But knowing what I did now, with my command over the aetheric particles around me¡­ Then maybe there was something more to it. Something more to those stories of gods and beings who could see the future.


    He said this person used a turtle as a pseudonym, I thought, my mind falling into the cold, analytical framework of Grey. The turtle has symbolized wisdom and knowledge throughout history, as well as time and immortality.


    I remembered the all-seeing sensation of being judged when I looked into Regis'' eyes less than an hour past, as a crown oversaw a bloody battlefield. That single crown felt like it had stretched the width of the universe itself. It was life, space, and time all at once.


    Lady Myre had once told me that the aether had a sort of consciousness to it. A will that the dragons couldn''t fully understand. And in that moment, I wondered how all of this fit together.


    "I''m sorry, Arthur," Toren said quietly. "If I had known what I was truly witnessing¡­ I wouldn''t have watched. But¡­ I wouldn''t be here, wouldn''t be who I am, wouldn''t be doing what I could for the world, if I had not had an example. You showed me first what it meant to fight."


    The phoenix shade chuckled slightly as I narrowed my eyes, still struggling to process what was being said.


    I looked at the phoenix-born mage, silently digesting his words. For the moment, I pushed away all the nagging thoughts and biting uncertainties that his words brought up. I shoved aside the needling worries that Spellsong might know my deepest thoughts. I ignored the existential worries of some sort of Turtle-God divining a future for me. I ignored questions about what sort of Seer would send a soul from Earth to influence this world, and what purpose it might serve.


    I asked the one question that mattered right now. The one question that I could use.


    "What is going to happen next in this war?" I pressed, standing tall as Grey suppressed my worries for now. "You have been working to sabotage it from within, haven''t you?"


    Toren looked at Sylvie, who was gingerly drawing Nico''s body into a dimension ring. His eyes clouded over as he stared at the corpse. "I don''t know what comes next for you, Arthur," he said. "I did what I could to try and give you a chance. With the seeds I planted, Uto should have broken under torture in time before he could be executed by Agrona. Elenoir Kingdom didn''t fall under the Sentry Line. And Nico¡­ Nico is dead. That means Cecilia won''t supplant Tessia this time. Agrona won''t get his weapon.


    "But I don''t know any more, Arthur," the strawberry-blonde mage said, reluctantly. "I haven''t known for months. Agrona himself is changing his tactics, and I can''t understand the High Sovereign. He never acted as an evil dictator in that other future. He tried to recruit you by passing messages through Sylvie, as you were still a Lance. His angle is different now."


    I shared a wide-eyed look with Sylvie. I knew she was processing this, her lips curling down in distaste. "Arthur would never join with my father," she said, standing up and pressing out her chest. Her lips curled back, revealing sharpened canines as her amber eyes flashed. "My father would have failed."


    Toren spared my bond a sad smile. "You know Arthur better than I do," he said quietly, masking something behind that expression. "But that''s beside the point."


    The phoenix-born mage shook his head, his smile becoming a bit more potent in its sorrow. "Soon, Agrona is going to make his final push to win this war for Alacrya. Cadell¡ªthe Scythe who slew Sylvia¡ªis here to finish the job. Neither I nor Seris know what he is doing, but I doubt you will be able to withstand the fallout, even as the King of this continent."


    Sylvie''s eyes widened at the mention of the mother she had never met, while I gritted my teeth. "Cadell," I whispered, finally putting a name to the beast who had taken Sylvia from me all those years ago. I remembered that bone-white hair, splaying about him like a graveyard shroud as he lowered in the air, his aura overwhelming. "He''s here?"


    "I know you want vengeance for your grandmother," Toren said, interrupting my train of thought. "But listen to me. Cadell is powerful, Arthur. He''s strong enough to fight asura alone and emerge alive. I beat Taci, but I''m not sure I can beat him, and that means you need a contingency for when the war falls through. But that''s not important right now. Because soon, Chul and I will be leaving to¡ª"


    Toren''s burning eyes, which had been insistent as they held me pinned, suddenly widened. His words cut off as his breath caught in his throat. His hand shot to his chest, his fingers arching like crumpled steel as they grasped his heart. The mage stumbled backward, his aura fluctuating rapidly as he nearly fell to the ground.


    The ghostly phoenix shade was faster than me. She swooped in, catching Toren''s body as he tumbled backward like a pitched tree. Her movements were simultaneously graceful and worried as she lowered the young man to the ground, incorporeal spirit somehow touching mortal flesh.


    "Toren," she said harshly, running a hand over his forehead to check his pulse. "What ails you? Tell me!"


    Sweat beaded around Toren''s head as Sylvie and I both rushed forward, worry and uncertainty streaking through our earlier emotions. Sylv called dark fire to her hands, purple particles of healing vivum surging around her hand as she knelt by Spellsong''s side.


    "Don''t," he wheezed. "Not¡­ wouldn''t help. The soul," Toren wheezed, utterly unintelligible. His wide, pinprick eyes darted about, seeing things that none of us could perceive. His aura fluctuated rapidly around him, and the aether in his heart suddenly pulsed with a rhythm that sent rippling dawnlight spreading from his center.


    And then the aether in his heart began to dwindle. It wasn''t like a dispersion or a balloon bursting. No, the purple particles centered there started to swirl, as if they were funneling down an unseen drain. I could sense Toren''s hold on them, and I got the impression he was sending it away somehow. With every thunderous pulse of his heart, that once-massive reserve of energy dwindled, shoved somewhere else.


    My hand snapped out, grabbing Sylvie''s wrist before she could lower her aetheric arts to Toren. I watched with bated breath as Spellsong''s aether was slowly sent away.


    "Seris," he said like a mourning dove''s cry. "Seris. She''s¡­ She''s in danger. Hurt. Asking for my¡ª"


    Then whatever it was that was happening snapped. Toren let out a ragged, wet cough, the aether around his heart nearly entirely gone. He blinked bloodshot eyes, then tried to force himself from Aurora''s arms.


    He only succeeded in pitching forward onto his hands and knees, his arms trembling as the mud absorbed them. "Fuck!" he cursed, slamming another fist into the ground. "Fuck! Aurora, Seris is under attack from¡­ something. The infection¡ªit had spread too far. Nearly everything. We need¡­ need to go back now."


    The asuran shade spared us a glance, before tending to her son again. "Toren, you need to replenish your lifeforce! It is too drained to be of any¡ª"


    Then her head snapped up, so quickly I could not perceive the movement. She stared at the roaring thunderstorm far above, her hands tense over Toren''s shoulders. Those nimbuses of burning suns widened, panic overcoming her burned features as shadows claimed her visage. "Anchor!" she yelled, her voice echoing like a warcry and song all at once. "Cover us in Mirage Walk! Now! All of us! Shelter us from the sky!"


    I was already acting, drawing on the ambient mana around me as I embraced my power. Instincts honed over two lifetimes guided my intent as I called on the earth around Sylv, Toren, and me, allowing it to subsume us in a sudden landslide.


    In the meantime, I smoothed over my mana signature, forcing it to stay solid and still like the earth. In turn, I incorporated the slight flow of water, masking any and all watching senses with the penultimate technique of the pantheon race.


    To the best of my ability, I called on the ambient mana to wash over Toren''s weakly shuddering body. The world layered him like a cloak as he forced his rapid heartbeat to settle.


    I didn''t have the same supernatural control of my body as Sylv clung to me, her hands gripping my shirt as she restrained a whimper of fear. My pulse soared in my ears as the darkness of this cave clung to me. I held my breath, hoping against hope I had enough air in my lungs to wait out the oncoming hurricane.


    Several seconds later, the true storm passed over.


    Hundreds of mana signatures passed over the conjured hideout like a volley of arrows blotting out the sun. Each one individually was enough to make me lose any and all confidence in running away. Their strength was restrained; at least as restrained as they could be. But my sense for mana was honed for decades, and further heightened by my acclorite-infused senses.


    Asura. Hundreds of asura, maybe even a thousand, each of them radiating an aura fit for war and ready for bloodshed, blurred eastward in a scream of power. Incalculable tons of energy pressed around me for an instant. Dragon, titan, pantheon, and more I did not recognize kept to a formation, each of them moving faster than the speed of sound.


    Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound of their passing was like the thunder itself as I trembled in my makeshift grave. And at their front¡­


    The storm served to mask the true depths of their power, but I recognized the signature at the front of the army. How could I not?


    Aldir Thyestes rode the storm. I sensed his attention briefly washing over us, for barely an instant. I didn''t know if he truly sensed us as I held my breath. Toren''s body trembled.


    And then they were surging east again, crossing the Grand Mountains and disappearing from my senses.


    Where were they going? I thought, my lungs burning as I held position. I could sense Sylvie, too, trembling as she fought down oxygen deprivation. What in the hell is Lord Indrath doing?! The war treaty is still on!


    Minutes ticked by like sand drifting from an hourglass, each grain a timer ticking toward death.


    I brought us up from the earth when I was certain we were in the clear. I gasped for breath, drawing in green wind mana to nourish my lungs. There was immediate, cool relief as my shoulders heaved.


    "They''re going toward the Hearth," the asuran shade of Aurora Asclepius said with sudden fear. "No. No, they cannot be. It is impossible."


    The ghost trembled visibly, staring off into the distance toward where the asura had disappeared. I was only distantly aware of it all, my mask of Grey utterly fractured. What was going on?! I needed to get back to the castle immediately and check on my information network. Had the asura tried to contact me in the past few minutes and failed? But if they had, then they could have afforded to wait for whatever this was.


    I stood like that for a solid few minutes, catching my breath and trying to reorganize all that had happened. The Hearth. Was that the name of the abode of renegade phoenixes? It would make sense.


    Toren weakly stumbled to his feet, just as disoriented as I was. He fumbled for a minute or two, withdrawing two items from his dimension ring. The strange teleportation artifact, and a spherical device that burned with a flashing red light. I only distantly recognized it as one of the Alacryan communication artifacts.


    "We need to go back, Aurora," he said with tired panic, seeming to return to himself from whatever had siphoned the energy from his heart. "They''re in danger. It''s¡ª"


    And then, for the second time, my senses were split by an overwhelming sense of power.


    A chill started at the very back of my neck, like ice cubes pressed by an unrelenting glove to my nape. And slowly, as if jagged claws were pulling those slabs of ice down my back, that cold traveled down my spine. The fingers of winter drew their death-touch across each ridge of my vertebrae, allowing that expanding lack of warmth to slowly freeze the blood in my veins solid.


    I could almost picture my lips turning blue and my breath misting in the storm as I turned, my body rigid as a corpse, to the north.


    Regis fuzzed back into existence, emerging from the darkness as he stood by my side, staring into the distance with his blank expression. Slowly, Toren limped to my side, his lips trembling as the distant skyline pulsed. "No," he said in denial. "No. No, no, no. It''s just¡­ It''s Resonant. That''s what he was doing with the massacres. Fuck, no. All those lives¡­"


    At his back, Aurora Asclepius'' body flared with a matching light, her eyes wide with horror.


    Light split the sky a dozen miles away. Like a dozen streams of purple-orange starlight, veins of aether as thick as the Sehz River stretched from the far ends of the continent, each carrying unfathomable power to a single point. Each weaving artery flowed like the Aurora Constellate brought down to earth, carrying untold swaths of aether and multielemental mana with it. Even from leagues away, the concentrated power was so thick I could see the threads of yellow earth, green wind, red fire, and blue water, all ensconced by purple aether. The very darkness of the storm was banished by the intertwining lights, each stretch of dawnlight refracting in on themselves in a dizzying array of color.


    Xyrus¡ªthe floating city sent into the heavens by the ancient mages in a testament to their power¡ªwas alight like a candlewick. Ritualistic, unstoppable power coalesced there like a supernova ready to collapse.

 Chapter 303 301: The Serpent in the Garden

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    My dark mana blade cut deep into my flesh.


    The moment the saber of black energy bypassed my skin, seeking a vein deep in my hand, I could feel the instantaneous reaction of the infection coursing along my blood. Hot lifeblood seeped from the wound, the red intermingling with particles of discordant white.


    Those white particles tried to leap onto my mana blade, like a pack of world lions sinking their fangs and claws into unsuspecting prey. It was in its very nature, after all, to try and rip and tear and wither anything of the basilisk.


    Before that bloodborne energy could take root and travel along my blade and back to the hand that gripped it, I relinquished hold of the spell. The inverted decay, without anywhere to go but to continue to cannibalize my own blood, returned to its feast. The white-flecked red liquid dripped into a waiting beaker, little gray-white flames dancing on the rims as the blood boiled.


    My lips settled into a thin line as I forcibly calmed my breathing. The infection had rooted itself deep in my heart, and every pulse sent little motes of inverted energy coursing along my veins, sundering every inch it passed.


    I had learned to direct that flow. The ravenous energy tore at me from the inside, but it still followed patterns. It feasted on flesh and mana alike, but it gravitated towards areas of high concentration. By using mana rotation to constantly refuel my reserves and concentrate the energy on specific points of my body, I could focus on healing and mending parts of my physique with my healing factor, while directing the baleful, gnawing force somewhere else.


    And once that energy was concentrated, it could be extracted.


    As the infected blood continued to bubble and boil inside the glass vial, the mana within cannibalizing itself in a slow, methodical destruction, I gave myself a minute to recover. With every breath, the mana in the atmosphere slowly cycled in through my weary mana veins, and into my core.


    I leaned on the experimental table, feeling ever-so-slightly dizzy from the constant state of exertion I had been under for these past few weeks. I ground my teeth, forcing my vision to stop spinning and focus. I was forged in Taegrin Caelum itself. I was made Scythe through trials more gruesome than this petty infection.


    It would not see me broken.


    When Toren returns, I will have to speak with him regarding a more permanent solution to housing this energy in my blood, I thought. Loath as I was to admit it, I couldn''t continue like this forever. The wear and tear was starting to show, and every time I pushed back the inverted energy, it surged again, stronger and more ravenous than before. It was learning how best to counteract my restriction attempts.


    I couldn''t let it continue to adapt, but neither could I let it disperse. It was a monumental discovery. A deviant of mana that specifically targeted those of Vritra blood and cannibalized their arts? I could think of nothing more advantageous to my goals.


    But if I wanted to purge myself of this infection, every ounce of this wondrous deviant would disappear forever, and I was uncertain if it could be found again without finding another basilisk horn and repeating the process to change it to something Inverted, and then ramming that into my heart again.


    "I would rather avoid such experiences again as best as I can," I muttered to myself, tracing my eyes across the makeshift laboratory that was haphazardly set up in my castle rooms. "So here we are once more, trying to make history."


    On the far end of a setup of heaters and conductive material, another beaker of my blood sat stagnant. This one was entirely drained of blood using the best techniques I could manage, then further isolated from the ambient mana.


    Toren had described to me in detail what had facilitated the creation of Inversion. A basilisk''s horn was flushed entirely of mana, before being used as a conduit for heartfire and mana both. That act of energy transfer was what changed the integral makeup of Brahmos'' horn.


    Now, I would see if I could do the same. While my stagnant, dead blood was not a perfect mirror of a basilisk''s horn, in theory, it should act as an even better insulator for a transfer of lifeforce and potential purification. As Toren had shown when using that heartfire array technique of his, lifeforce lingered for a while in blood after it had been spilled. It was the most natural conductor of heartfire that there was.


    So, what better substance to try and Invert?


    I rolled my shoulders, withdrawing a few items from my dimension ring. A pair of thin, dark gloves slid over my pale hands, blocking them from introducing any potential variable into the experiment. Next, a pen settled into my hands, alongside a familiar notebook.


    Toren''s journal was rough beneath my fingers. The edges of the leather bindings were ever-so-slightly frayed and discolored, revealing their constant use, but it did not appear ragged.


    No: this was the kind of wear and tear that came from love and dedication. It was a monumental achievement for something to be worn and faded in this way, all from careful consideration. Within my mind, I could almost imagine the quiet resolve of this journal as it endured endless days of writing and contemplation, all while remaining quiet about the secrets contained within. This small, unassuming notebook was bound by duty and leather both to its knowledge.


    As I opened the cover, slowly flipping through the faded yellow pages, I briefly scanned over the pages within, noting Toren''s neat, tidy script. One could learn much from someone based on how they wrote, and Toren was no exception. While each letter and stroke of his pen was deliberate, it was in an almost absent way. I could tell from a cursory inspection that whoever had written along these pages cared for organization and neatness, but not enough for perfection.


    I continued to flip through the pages as psychological analyses ran in the back of my mind like separate processes, humming lightly to myself. My lips twitched upward as I finally reached the first empty page.


    Toren had granted me this notebook to read, certainly, but it was mine now. He seemed confident that I would suffer some sort of ''existential crisis'' when I got around to reading it, but that was as absurd as Kezess Indrath keeling over from a simple poison.


    I felt a mote of that anticipatory high I got whenever I finished a puzzle coiling in my mind as I considered the smooth paper beneath my fingers. I was so, so close. So close to this. So close to putting together Agrona''s plans, too. I was only a few pieces away, of that I was certain.


    I thought with glimmering amusement as I drew the tip of my pen across the top of the page like a skater across the ice, mapping out intricate patterns that came together to form words. Attempt 1, using mana-vacuum techniques to attempt a transfer of lifeforce and inversion of subject matter.


    I stepped away from the table, a flash of annoyance rising from the depths of my mana core from how roughshod this experimental setup was. It was hardly even a true experiment, with control groups and perfect erasure of outside variables. Limited as I was in this dwarven basement of a castle, I was performing the functional equivalent of throwing paint at a wall and hoping to make beautiful art.


    My fingers tightened slightly around the pen in my hand as I neared the edge of the table, suppressing that annoyance. It rose from my basilisk blood: that dying, wheezing ember of bloodborne resistance slowly whittled away from the energy in my chest.


    I cleared my mind of everything I could, banishing the darkness of my blood with vindictive ease. Weak as I was, that force of power was weakened moreso.


    And as I stared at the two beakers of blood, both connected by a thin vacuum tube, I finally pressed a button. My infected blood slowly spiraled along the tube as it was opened, the pressure differential forcing it to fill in the sudden difference. Along and along it went, tracing its red-white line toward the second beaker.


    I felt my heartbeat speed up unhelpfully as I watched that slow crawl. I knew the weakness continued to spread, but I ignored it, just this one time.


    And when they met¡­


    Nothing happened. My eyes flicked to the mana-measuring readouts as the two liquids mixed together, but there was no obvious change in either. In fact, the inverted decay only seemed to spread across it faster, searching for something that wasn''t there.


    I sighed in disappointment, carefully noting the measurements from the various monitoring instruments in my journal. The first experiment was never a success, but it never failed to get my hopes up. Especially now, after so long with Toren''s light.


    When I was done alliterating my observations, I tapped the pen against my chin. The shadows of the late afternoon kept me in the dark, where I could afford to think clearly and confidently.


    There was a definite increase in the deterioration of the inverted deviant when it met my mana-vacuumed blood, I thought analytically. But no direct change to the blood, either. If I were in better circumstances, I''d be able to test it across multiple control groups. Is it the blood that causes this, or the lack of mana? Some combination of both?


    "Questions, questions, questions," I sighed to myself, shaking my head. I snapped my journal closed. "But yet, it feels as if I am missing something."


    That intuition of mine lingered at the back of my skull, whispering echoes of my suspicions. It whispered that all the time, just like when Toren had told me of how Agrona had presented himself to Arthur as if he were a blood-mad tyrant intent on destruction for destruction''s sake. It had told me that I was missing some crucial piece, some way to interpret it all.


    And now, that voice told me that I was going about this experiment from the wrong angle, too. Internally, I went back over every bit of knowledge I knew about Inversion, heartfire, and Toren''s strange lifeforce arts.


    And I caught on something. Resonant Flow.


    "A primer," I said suddenly, a genuine smile stretching across my face. That was what I was missing. When Toren had demonstrated his use of Circe Milview''s altered blood array a couple of months back, he had used a flash of his lifeforce like a sort of igniting spark. Before then, the spots of blood on the sands had lain dormant. Afterward, each point had leaped into action as if preprogrammed, carrying ambient mana and hearfire in a glowing pathway.


    That was the perspective I''d been missing. I viewed the inverted deviant as active, but that might not necessarily be the case. Its flavor of dormancy could be a separate expression entirely from what I expected of mana derivatives.


    So I needed a spark of some sort, then, to set off the detonation. That might then propagate into true change for the affected material.


    I looked up from my notebook, smiling softly at the detailed map of Dicathen hanging over my table. Progress at last. With so many weeks of stagnation, it felt wondrous to make a discovery again. With every answer came just as many questions, and all those questions¡­


    They fueled everything even more, like fuel in a warm fire. That was something Toren didn''t yet understand about me. He thought that unanswerable questions would see me languish and need wine, of all things. But those endless questions only meant there was more to peel apart and understand about the universe.


    I breathed in the scent of stale, dead blood, long-forgotten dust, the aroma of solid earth, and everything else in this cavern. For this moment, I ignored the inverted deviant that had spread once again due to my accelerated heartbeat. I just allowed myself to bask in this small victory.


    And that was when the entire room erupted into chaos. A hair-thin slice of wind surged toward me nearly faster than I could blink, the edge of the blade ready to sever my neck. At the same time, mist seeped in from every single crack in the walls and break in the foundation like grasping tendrils of the unknown.


    I barely managed to pull my head back from the decapitating slice. Instead of relieving my head from my shoulders, the attack carved through my experimental table, before erupting into a miniature tornado of spiraling wind that pulled me toward it. My silver hair whipped about my head like threads ripped free from a perfect loom, each of them sinking closer and closer to destruction.


    Undaunted, I retaliated by activating one of my regalias, Breath of the Night. Dark motes of energy surged from my hands like mist, sinking into the growing tornado and severing its lifeline of mana. Where before the attempted assassination spell had been a roaring, rising tempest, now it disappeared with barely a puff of air.


    I whirled, my mana core squeezing painfully in my chest, and lashed out into the pervading mist with a conjured dark mana blade. I felt it draw across something for a split instant, before it became less than shadow as it skirted away.


    A smile quirked up the edges of my lips as my eyes trailed lazily through the illusory fog. "Lance Phantasm," I said easily. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I have been waiting quite some time for the chance to speak with you."


    I didn''t show an ounce of the weakness I felt in my body as I kept my dark mana blade conjured. A thin trickle of hot, white-flecked blood trailed along my throat. I hadn''t evaded as perfectly as I had wanted to.


    I''m weakened even more severely than I thought, I noted warily as I felt that crimson tear slowly trail its way down to my dress. That attack would never have come close to me if I were truly able.


    "It has been a long, long time since I''ve had the opportunity to dance with another woman," a sultry, alluring voice said from all sides. Each syllable was like a breath of the fog itself. "But I''ll admit¡­ I was expecting more, Scythe. If my first attack nearly took off your head, I wonder what else I''ll take from you next?"


    I sighed, unamused by the faux seductive attitude. I could respect how it could unbalance an enemy, but I was not in the mood for games. Time was of the essence.


    "Regardless of your intent to ''dance,'' I intend to speak," I said dismissively, "and being immersed in a crippling cloud is no way to talk. Let''s see each other as we are."


    As if on cue, several artifacts¡ªeach preplaced at corners of the room¡ªsurged to life with a hum of magic. Dark particles of mist seeped from them like shadows in a graveyard, and wherever those motes of energy touched, they stole the life of the mist spell around me.


    If I were at my full power, a paltry wave of the hand would have allowed me to dismantle the domain of fog that swirled about me, but I had to make do with my limitations. The only satisfaction I took from this was that I had perfectly predicted the spell that would be used to try and cloud my senses and programmed the artifacts accordingly.


    As if a curtain were being violently ripped from my sight, the makeup of Aya Grephin''s domain spell faltered and cracked, before dispersing utterly. The elven Lance was already moving, however, revealed to the air and stripped of her protections as she was.


    She lunged for my throat once more, sleek with grace and wind as her hair whipped about her. Our eyes met as she blurred across the room. Determined and focused like a knife''s edge, she was already conjuring a blade of wind in her hand as she prepared for a final blow. I stood solemnly, my hands crossed in front of me.


    "Cylrit," I said simply, "keep her at a distance fit for respectable conversation."


    The Lance veered off course abruptly, the wind mana swirling around her hand gravitating toward the far wall. Aya''s coal-black eyes widened behind her curtain of dark hair as she jerked away from her assault, instead nearly slamming into the stone.


    Cylrit¡ªwho now entered the cramped room at last¡ªdeactivated the gravitational effects of his dark sword. Aya froze like a cornered cat as the Victorious Black Tower marched to me with solemn poise, silent as a tomb and his expression placid.


    I could sense her focusing on him, trying to detect his mana signature. She would fail, of course. I''d instructed my Retainer to wear my cloaking artifact for the next few days exactly to lure her in. She thought me alone and vulnerable without Toren, and only now did she start to recognize how thoroughly I had prepared for her arrival. With Toren needling her every day, she was hyper-aware of the opportunity his absence would provide in completing her mission.


    It was unfortunate for her that I was, too.


    "Erase these strands of mana," I said to my ever-present Retainer, raising my arm to indicate the nearly indetectable hairline strands of energy that sank into the thin cluster points of my mana veins. "I would rather not have the breath stolen from my lungs. I need it to speak, after all."


    Toren had informed me of this secret technique of Lance Phantasm''s, but seeing and sensing its work was something else. I would have to investigate the effects of hijacking those cluster points another time, though.


    Cylrit nodded. "As you wish, Master Seris." Without another word, he changed the frequency of his greatsword, before swiping them through the lingering mana strands that she had implanted in our first clash.


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    I watched the energy as it was swiftly absorbed into Cylrit''s sword, my eyes narrowed. When he was done, he bowed sharply, before stepping to my side.


    I shook my head absently, before looking at the Lance where she crouched at the far end of the room. She looked like a cross between a bow under tension and a waiting panther, all predatory grace and straining muscles. Her dark eyes glinted as she carefully weighed her current situation.


    "Now that those irritating barriers are out of the way, I think it''s time we had a reasonable discussion," I said, turning up my chin slightly as I observed the waiting Lance. "Don''t you think so, Lance Phantasm?"


    "Oh, I''ve always been happy to talk," she countered, mist swirling about her as her aura wavered on the edge of perception. "Simply leave and abandon this front, Scythe Seris, and I''ll allow you to live."


    I turned my head slightly, orienting on an empty portion of the room as I ignored the image of the Lance. "I think you''ll appreciate everything I have to say. Don''t be so hasty in your attempt to dismiss me. After all, you might just get vengeance on the ones who enslaved you all those years ago."


    The illusory image at the far edge of the room evaporated into mist, and the Lance''s control of her mana faltered. Her sudden anger hit me as a wave of palpable force rushed toward me. The elf appeared precisely where I had predicted. She had to visibly restrain herself from lunging at me, her hair flaring about her as her pupils contracted to pinpricks. Cylrit shifted, readying his sword to defend me should the worst come to pass.


    "Just like you Alacryans, to taunt and mock when you''re close to death," she sneered, her nostrils flaring with visible anger. "I''ll make your end slow, Seris Vritra."


    I held up a warding hand. "Perhaps I was too blunt in my words, Aya Grephin," I said in a measured tone. "But I did not intend to taunt you. Far from it: I offer a true opportunity. One that might offer you some closure in more ways than one."


    I could see the gears in the Lance''s head turning. She was no fool, nor a petty seductress. "That''s what you say, always trying to weasel your way out of a trap."


    I pointedly swept my gaze across the entire room, including my destroyed table where my alchemical ingredients sizzled. "In case you have not realized, Lance Phantasm, the only thing that has not gone according to my designs is the destruction of my experiment table." I shot it a disappointed glance. "I would have rather avoided that. I''ll have to spend weeks restocking ingredients.


    "Regardless," I continued, waving a dismissive hand, "I do my research on every opponent I face before I engage them. It''s a hallmark of warfare, after all. These sorts of things are won and lost on simple psychology. Who is more likely to strike first, what tactics they might engage¡­ Knowing my opponent means I know my avenues to victory. And considering I was expecting a late-night rendezvous from you, I did my research."


    "You love to hear yourself talk, Vritra," Aya hissed. I could almost imagine her as a black cat, all her hair standing on end. But she didn''t attack or take a step forward. What I had alluded to was too tantalizing a prize, and we both knew it.


    "It was difficult to unearth your past, Aya. You hid it well behind countless illusions and mists. All I could discover in the end was that you entered the service of the Eraliths after being freed from slavery somewhere on the outskirts of Sapin in the lingering aftermath of the last war with the human country; something that is kept secret even among your highest echelons." I inspected my nails, drawing out the silence like a musician holding a note. "Truthfully, I didn''t make the necessary connection until a few weeks ago."


    In truth, I''d taken a gamble on the possible origins for Aya Grephin based on her documented tendency to psychologically torture her opponents before killing them. It was something I had seen in Viessa, too; enough for me to form a hypothesis. And it had borne the most luscious fruit.


    Aya glared at me with raw, condensed hatred from the side of the room. "You''re right, Scythe. I don''t know who kept me prisoner decades ago. So why should you know any better? I suppose you''re going to reveal that it was the Glayders all along, hmm? Or maybe the Eraliths. Or some other method that would fracture the Triunion toward your petty ends even further? I know your type, Scythe. You''ll pit me against¡ª"


    "House Wykes," I said simply, cutting through her building rant like my title''s namesake through flesh. "Specifically, Otis Vayhur Wykes. Decades ago, he was the one who oversaw your imprisonment from the shadows."


    It seemed that for all of Phantasm''s carefully crafted words, this was not what she''d been expecting. She fell into silence, her brow furrowing as she caught on to this information.


    I used the intervening silence to conjure a stack of prepared paper in my hands. On it were carefully documented instances of my past conversations with Otis Wykes, proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he was a traitor to Dicathen. But within those correspondences, he had provided some interesting details that confirmed my own suspicions.


    Truthfully, it appeared that even Otis was unaware of the true identity of Lance Phantasm as one of his slaves who had just barely escaped his detestable breeding programs. I deliberately restrained my lips from curling up at the edges in disgust.


    A petty man who thinks himself a Sovereign, with all the arrogance and apathy they carry, I thought with distaste. But he''s a pale shadow of the Vritra. All the cruelty and none of the power to back it up.


    I proffered the stack of papers out to the hesitant Lance, as an administrator might offhand a simple decree. Each paper hung like a waiting knife, each sheet of white poised to draw red blood from someone distant.


    "Within are some correspondences I''ve had with the aforementioned head of House Wykes," I said leisurely, still offering the papers to the open air. "I think you would find the statements on pages eight, ten, and thirteen quite meaningful." I paused. "They aren''t numbered, sadly. You''ll have to find your way there yourself."


    Hesitantly, like a brush of ribbons in an autumn breeze, a wind appeared from nowhere, drawing the pages from my hands.


    The stack drifted about lazily on currents, each individual page separating as the wind carted them about the room and toward the waiting Lance. They arrived in sequence, allowing the elven assassin to scan over them in order.


    And with every page that landed, her expression became more grim, her smooth features marred by more and more creases and frown marks. At my side, Cylrit was silent as a stone. The sound of shuffling, creasing paper grew louder with every moment.


    When she was done looking it over, her head snapped up to look at me. "Why?" she hissed, her tight grip wrinkling the pages. "Why give this to me? What game are you playing?"


    I shrugged loosely, allowing my dress to float about me in the subtle wind currents. "An apt description. I am playing a game with you, Aya Grephin," I replied with utmost sincerity. I tilted my head, inspecting the Lance and her poised stance. "But you''re mistaken if you think I''m the only one playing you. King Arthur sent you here to defend across from me for a reason. He''s a smart man, that reincarnated King. He knew that I''d have a message for you when you made your play. He''ll be waiting for your return and that information."


    The Wykes were the last holdout against Arthur''s centralized power. Without them, his control would be truly absolute. It was my final gift to a worthy opponent before the hammer crushed him to the anvil.


    When he is finally conquered, I will have to see that scepter of his stolen before Cadell or someone else can get their mitts on it, I thought. If I could reverse engineer a method to create white core mages at will and bind them, too¡­


    Thoughts for later.


    "You''re avoiding the question," Aya accused, eyes narrowed. "That''s what you''ve always been, smoke and mirrors. But don''t think you can hide the hatred in your eyes. I see it with every moment you speak of them."


    The Lance slowly forced a smile along her lips as she drew the papers into a dimensional storage. "You like to act so unaffected, don''t you?" she purred, her mannerisms returning in tune with her confidence. "So free of emotion. Like a machine. But you¡­ hate them."


    The elven woman slid a bit closer, standing tall as Cylrit moved imperiously between us. "That''s what Spellsong meant, wasn''t it? This war isn''t as simple as we lessers think it is. When you talked about the Wykes, I could feel that hatred of yours."


    The words came out like an irritating ooze along my skull. Momentarily, I felt the spread of the inverted deviant across my physique again, that constant, unending pain of my body eating itself alive pushing against my composure. It had made my masks sloppier than was acceptable. My ability to keep my emotions contained cratered beneath the compounding weight of everything on my slim shoulders.


    She expects you to lash out, I reasoned, forcing my body to remain cool and calm. She thinks she has found a weakness. Denial will only show her that she has hit her mark.


    I smiled at the Lance as she finally reached me, standing barely a few feet away. "Do you know what it means to hate, Lance Aya?" I asked, taking the chance to look her up and down. Her uniform was clean and spotless, a blazing white against the darkness of the room. "I think you do. You felt it years ago in those pits, wasting away under the cruel touch of masters whose faces you could never know and never fight."


    I stepped past Cylrit, feeling something hot kindle in my chest in a rising acknowledgment of that emotion. I''d felt so, so much these past few months. Joy. Excitement. Despair. Love. Fulfillment. Hope. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But never once had I so thoroughly embraced hatred. "You might find that we are alike in a few ways, Phantasm," I said, my expression cool and placid. But I knew it showed behind my eyes, like two little embers of black soulfire that would consume everything fed into their decaying wake.


    Aya snorted in disdain, turning on her heels. "You claim that," she snapped, moving gracefully toward the exit, her hips swaying. "But you move like them. You talk like them. You use like them."


    She looked over her shoulder, her eyes a dim mirror of mine. "When a tool has lost its use to you, you cast it aside, just like a master does with their slave. You''re pretending to be something different, Seris Vritra, but inside, you care just as little for the people of this continent as Otis Vayhur Wykes. That''s why we''ve seen so much pointless death."


    I felt that tempest flare in my eyes again. My smile became just an inch more brittle as inverted pain seared through every cell in my body, sweat beading along my brow. "I do not kill needlessly, Lance Phantasm," I said, cursing internally on the Vritra''s horns that my voice sounded strained. "When I have taken the lives of your people, it has never been without a point."


    Aya''s eyes glimmered. "Like all those massacres in Dicathen, then?" she shot back. "That certainly had a point beyond needless violence. I suppose you''re going to tell me it was just to spark fear and terror as war tactics, then? When I saw my countrymen butchered, you''ll say it was all for a reason?"


    "In case your information is lacking, let me explain something to you," I said, dismissing Aya Grephin''s misplaced anger. "It was not I who perpetuated those massacres, but Viessa Vritra. You certainly know that. If you''re looking for some sort of spark¡­"


    My voice trailed off as my tongue caught on the words of those final syllables, the sound of my voice drifting into the air before it slowly died. That little voice in the back of my head screamed. It screamed at me, pounding a message through the pain of my body tearing itself apart.


    Looking for a spark. Spark. Spark.


    I began to tremble. I had been restraining the act for so long, but as I diverted all my focus to my mind, I began to shake with both rising fear and pain. The puzzle pieces fell neatly into place all along my mind as a dreadful, terrible picture wrought itself like a burning brand across my mind.


    Aya''s expression hardened as she watched me slowly break down, a sneer pulling at the edges of her lips. Cylrit moved to try and support me, his mouth forming words. I couldn''t hear them. The world''s sound fell away as the only thing I became aware of was my mind.


    I turned around numbly, stumbling as I trudged back toward the far wall. I nearly tripped on my own feet, but Cylrit was there to catch my arm and support me. He turned a hard glance back over my shoulder at the poised Lance, fearful that she might try her luck, but my stumbling movement through the shattered stone debris of my table and mixing concoctions of broken alchemical ingredients forced him to move.


    Agrona presented a mask to Arthur, I thought, pulling one blackened piece of this horrible puzzle into place in my head. He pretended to enjoy the violence and the bloodshed. He impressed upon his unsuspecting prey that his only motive was violence. Which meant it could not have been violence. The massacres were the point, in and of themselves.


    But they couldn''t be. Agrona would never kill needlessly, because I would never kill needlessly. Every body I left in my wake was because they had exhausted their use to me, just as Aya had accused.


    Trembling, I pulled another piece of this grim picture together, the sensation of it like rot in my head. Toren said that the death lingered in Burim. After the breaking, there were so many dead¡ªso much blood spilled¡ªthat it stained the aether around it, lingering like a funeral shroud.


    I reached the far wall with Cylrit''s worried assistance, his plated arm tense and afraid against mine. A detailed map of Dicathen presented itself innocently to the world, hung less like a painting and more like a doomed man. I touched my fingers to my throat where the cut Aya had given me leaked white-tinted blood and drew it away. I recalled a location from memory, one of dozens that had been burned into my memory every time Viessa had moved and my spies had reported another massive death toll.


    Toren''s array, connecting points of lingering lifeforce. As he let the spark fly with his lifeforce, each splash of blood sang to life, carrying the ambient mana with it. I had theorized immediately upon witnessing it that it could be used as something other than just a simple beacon.


    I pressed my fingers to the point on the map. A few miles south of Ekshire City. Then another. South of the Valdenbreak Flow. North of Mirror Lake. Northeast of Kalberk. Along the northernmost branch of the Middle Fork. North of Xyrus City, along the Grand Mountains. Along the Eastern Fork. East of Greengate.


    My vision blurred from pain as I struggled to draw each point on the map. Each time I drew a connection, my heart beat harder. Agony rippled through my small form, uncontrolled and uncontested by my distraction.


    There were more places where people had died. More locations of destruction and sorrowful loss. But as I narrowed down the places where violent, raging massacres had struck with the force of a passing hurricane, I found a pattern emerging.


    I heaved for breath as I finished, staring down as sweat beaded along my skin. My pulse pounded in my ears. I fumbled for a moment, withdrawing a single item from my dimension ring. I needed to confirm it. I needed to be absolutely sure.


    The tracking device settled into my palm, the exact device that displayed a live feed of the last places Viessa''s tempus warp had been used. A tiny, minuscule map of Dicathen projected itself over the top of the artifact. It wasn''t detailed, like the scaled versions of this technology. It was rough, makeshift, and altogether disappointing as a depiction.


    But the blinking red dot displaying the last location Viessa had used her tempus warp was clear as day.


    "Sovereign''s blood," Cylrit cursed. He didn''t tremble like I did as he stared at the map, but I could feel him tensing. His eyes were wide, no doubt putting it together slowly, too. "It¡­ It cannot be."


    "What?!" Aya snapped behind us, unnerved as she stared at the map with a haunted expression. "What is happening?"


    I carefully pulled away the tracking artifact that all but confirmed my suspicions. I pulled more mana in from the atmosphere, cycling it through my twinging white core. I could feel my core purifying slightly, the sensation so much more apparent amidst the burning pain for a reason I couldn''t understand.


    I slowly pulled myself back together, methodically suppressing the rampant deviant mana ravaging my body again. Bit by bit, I hauled myself from the brink of death, feeling my core drain at an exceptional rate. Soulfire washed over my wounds as it forced the inverted deviant back, my force of will barely strong enough to overcome it all.


    I had come closer than ever before to death, then. And I knew, deep in my soul, that if the infection in my heart ever gained that sort of ground on me again, I would not be able to suppress it.


    "Agrona does not kill needlessly," I whispered, sagging against Cylrit as I struggled not to pass out. "It''s always for a purpose, Aya Grephin."


    I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to slip into slumber. By the Sovereigns, I hadn''t slept in days, not since my last rendezvous in the sky with Toren and the time after. I just wanted to collapse into the nearby bed and rest for an age.


    But if I fell asleep now¡­ Then I would never wake up. The infection in my nexus waited. It waited for the next time I let it get too far, like a serpent in the grass. It waited for the moment I would take my eyes off of it.


    Aya''s eyes slowly traced the drawing on the map, her expression becoming paler with each and every passing second. "You mean¡ª"


    "He was exceptionally clever," I muttered. "Smokescreens everywhere. Little variations in death count and other miscellaneous assaults muddied the pattern. But factor those out¡­ and it all aligns. Least deaths at the tail, propagating to the most concentrated ones near the head¡­"


    A diagram of a serpent wrapped around the north of Sapin, arching down with a massacre for every vertebrae. The altered array points wound and coiled outward, toward one single point between two fanged jaws: Xyrus City. Xyrus City, bastion of the ancient mages. Xyrus City, floating under an aetheric spell.


    I didn''t understand what Agrona was going to do. Perhaps something about the city, or the spatium spell that kept it aloft, would serve as some focal point of this array, or perhaps none of that mattered. But no matter what the truth was, this¡­ this was too big for something only relating to the lesser''s war. It was too monumental, too grandiose and preplanned. Which meant it wasn''t for the lesser''s war.


    Agrona was preparing to do something that would strike at Epheotus. And if Agrona were to strike at the land of the gods themselves, I wouldn''t be ready. I wouldn''t be able to shelter those under my protection or see through any of the plans I''d nurtured for decades. I''d counted on a true push from Dicathen to Epheotus to take decades more, not whatever this was.


    And Viessa was there right now, at the center of it all, no doubt with Cadell. That meant there was no time. I clumsily fumbled inside my dimension ring, pulling at another item: my communication artifact.


    The spherical device fell into my hands with barely any weight, but it felt heavier than the stars themselves.


    I couldn''t make it to that place in time. I was weak, and my only tempus warp was gone. In Toren''s hands.


    Toren could stop whatever was coming. He was powerful, monstrously so.


    But is he more powerful than Cadell? I asked myself woozily. Vritra''s horns, this could be exactly what Agrona wants me to do. To send Toren into the lion''s den. Agrona has been watching Toren for some time now. What if he''s needed somehow to complete this?


    I wasn''t even given the time I needed to think. I was never given the time I needed to think. Because at that moment¡ªas if punctuated by Fate itself¡ªI felt the auras descend.


    Aya shook this time. She had portrayed an aura of anger or predatory bloodlust throughout all of our conversation, but as the wave of King''s Force from countless gods washed over her¡ªeach of them restraining their catastrophic power¡ªshe shook in a reflection of what I had displayed mere moments before.


    Instead of trembling like some sort of prey animal, Cylrit froze. Like a wogart in the face of a rokavid, his heart nearly stopped beating on the spot as they all coalesced from the heavens above.


    I had found that there are different kinds of fear. Pure, mind-numbing terror, where one cannot get the chance to think or comprehend what is coming to them, is the most merciful. It is the prey''s fear as it runs from an unknown predator. It is horrific and primal, the sort of sensation that makes one cower in the face of the dark.


    The fear that settled into my bones was not so merciful. It would have been kinder if I did not sense the auras of the hundreds of asura that hung in the sky like a guillotine''s blade waiting to drop. It would have been comforting, in a way, if I did not comprehend precisely what made the world freeze with the compounding weight of those restrained presences.


    An asuran army waited beyond the castle walls.

 Chapter 304 302: Ashes to Ashes

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    Those asuras waited, each like a captured thunderstorm. I heard no words and felt no more changes in the ambient mana, but still, I knew. I knew what they were waiting for. I knew¡ªon some instinctual level¡ªwhat was about to happen.


    The treaty was broken, and there was nothing that would forestall the fury of the heavens themselves.


    Plans and contingencies rumbled through my head at fevered speed as I pulled myself to my full height. My fatigue vanished like a veil of fog beneath the summer sun, the unrelenting, scorching heat scouring it all away. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Run to your king, Aya Grephin," I said quietly, my hands shaking. "Go. Now. Before the sky falls."


    The candlelights spaced across the room slowly fizzled out, the very air tearing away their life. Shadows slowly coated Lance Phantasm, but I could see the fearful look she sent me.


    "Go," I said more harshly, forcing myself to walk past her. "This is your only chance. It might already be too late to deliver this knowledge."


    She didn''t say anything. Her jaw trembled. Her hands tightened. But finally, she acquiesced. Mist wrapped around her from the floor, tendrils rising from the stone to whisk her away.


    The asura should let her pass, I thought through the haze of that King''s Force. But me¡­ I am a different story.


    Cylrit finally managed to pull himself together as I stumbled to the door. "Seris," he said quickly, nearly stumbling over his words as he rushed to my side. "We need to evacuate. The asura cannot¡ª"


    "Go to the dungeons, Cylrit," I retorted, not looking at him as I limped through the dark hallways. "The asura will not let us flee, and my troops are caught in the aura below. They will suffer and die if we do not do something. So go to the dungeons. It is our only hope."


    I do not leave bodies needlessly in my wake, I reasserted, tasting iron on my tongue. I do not sacrifice without cause.


    Cylrit''s gauntleted hands clenched. His blood-red eye shimmered with indecision, some conflict warring inside. "Seris," he said quietly, "You¡­ cannot do this. You can escape now. We can leave this behind. If you don''t, then¡­ Then they will kill you."


    "They will try," I said sharply. I spared my Retainer one steady, assured gaze. "Have I ever led you astray, Cylrit?"


    The man¡ªwho had been my companion for decades now¡ªswallowed. Something in him was changing in the wake of Toren. I could see some of it there: questions he had never allowed himself to ask, rising to the surface like oil separating from water.


    I laid a hand on this unmovable soldier''s arm, hoping to try and convey some of the confidence I felt. Some of the hope. Fear pervaded every inch of my cells, but it was a fuel I could burn for the drive I needed. I needed Cylrit, now more than ever, to be that pillar of unwavering strength he had always been.


    Even if it tore him apart inside.


    I remembered the last time we had had a conversation so daunting. I had made a misstep, approaching something that should not have been touched. I had told him that I could never be what he wished for. My Retainer had retreated from my words, as was only wise.


    But as his resolve slowly solidified and he nodded, I saw that unspoken emotion harden him, in the same way my fear and hope guided me.


    "As you wish, Scythe Seris," he said with resolve more solid than black diamond, wasting no more breath than was necessary. "I will bring help."


    He turned on his heels and then began to fly down the corridors, leaving me alone. And as he left me underneath the overwhelming swell of the asura''s intent, I felt the urge to crumple like a box of brittle wood.


    I banished that feeling, forcing my chin high as I strode through the halls. With a careful application of mana, I withdrew a single item from my dimension ring: a last resort, if all else failed. A final, desperate gambit was possible if there was no other way out.


    The djinni medallion¡ªdesigned to teleport the user far away to a distant sanctuary¡ªwas cool against the inside of my skin as I palmed it. The intricate etchings were a slight comfort in a dreary, cramped, and altogether uncomfortable castle.


    I felt the temptation to run. To just teleport away and hide myself. But besides the fate of the army far below, using the djinni medallion would leave Toren stranded and bereft of allies when he returned. And when Toren returned¡­


    When I emerged from one of the castle''s rooftop entrances, the first thing that struck me was the silence. Even this high above the sands far below, the sounds of men shouting orders, the grinding of iron, and the sound of intermittent spellfire was always audible. The hustle and bustle of thousands of soldiers going about their days and waiting in tense silence created a life to this place that made me think of a living, breathing thing.


    The Dicathians on the far bank, too, had made the occasional noise. One might hear the sound of gunshots as they used those new weapons with deadly efficiency. I could occasionally hear the jibes of the elves at the forefront as they reaped their due.


    Like two great beasts of war, the armies became something more than the sum of their parts as they had danced and clashed with each other these past few weeks. Limbs of those creatures grew, entwined, then broke apart in a state of constant flux¡ªand amidst that flow, there was always noise.


    But now, no sound graced the skies. The force in the air quieted any and all sounds of protest. Far below this castle, an army thousands of mages strong was stunned into heart-attacking silence from the weight of mountains in the sky. Not even the wind blew its secrets to my ears, the forces of nature themselves bowing to a higher power.


    I clasped my hands over my stomach, ensuring that I was perfectly suited for this upcoming performance. My nails were painted the color of blackened blood. My silver hair traveled in loose waves down to my back, accentuating my dark dress. My horns stood proudly atop my head, a pronouncement of my station.


    My exhaustion did not matter. The painful pulse of my heart as infection clawed at my insides did not matter. My reservations and fears did not matter. The ache of my core did not matter.


    All that mattered was being a Scythe.


    I finally looked up.


    Hundreds of figures glimmered in resplendent battle armor all across the late afternoon sky, each silent and still. Armor crafted of the world''s highest metals contrasted weapons so sharp they could cut space itself. Blades and spearpoints segmented by every sort of element in existence turned the sky into a spectrum of angry colors.


    Dragons, pantheons, phoenixes, and more dotted the sky, each like fruit suspended from an invisible tree. And at their head¡­


    "General Aldir," I said, projecting my voice. It didn''t carry far, but it didn''t need to. "Rumors and whispers of your deeds have reached even Alacrya." I held my chin up, ignoring how I trembled under the weight of his presence. "For what reason do I have the honor of speaking with you today?"


    The pantheon general, foremost of the echelons of Epheotus, studied me with a single, violet eye. His long, white ponytail stood starkly against his black armor. That pupil scrutinized me over and over, making chills trail along my spine. "Scythe Seris Vritra," he said dismissively, lowering slightly in the air. His voice was just as cool as his gaze, flowing along the currents of the world. "You are either very bold or very foolish to present yourself so openly before us."


    The other asura remained silent as my attention flicked to them, then back to Aldir Thyestes. The djinni medallion I kept pressed against my palm was slick with sweat, and my pulse slowly rose in my head. "If you wished utter annihilation upon all under my command, Lord Thyestes, it would have already been done. Yet you waited here, projecting your power. Which means you wish to make a statement."


    The asura nodded slowly, measuring my words as if they were a cool drink. "Indeed, lesser. I bring a proclamation from Kezess Indrath. The treaty has been renegotiated."


    My blood froze solid in my veins, and my hands clenched around the medallion. The treaty barring asuran intervention in this war. The only thing stopping the devastation of Burim from spreading across the entire continent. But what sparked another renegotiation? If Agrona wanted to try and open up talks with Kezess, he''d need precedent.


    "And what are the renewed terms of this treaty?" I asked, dread rising like a corpse from the grave.


    Aldir considered me for a time. A long enough time that simply standing beneath his oppressive strength was becoming more and more difficult. My balance wavered as I summoned every ounce of willpower I had in reserve. I knew it was a fruitless attempt. As powerful as Aldir Thyestes was¡ªa warrior among the greatest warriors¡ªhe could likely deduce my weakness from a bare thought.


    The general''s single eye darted to the trail of blood along my neck where Aya''s blade had grazed. "This war has been marred by constant interference from outside parties," he said, his voice nonchalant. As if the entire concept of this war was nothing more than a passing errand or a noonday stroll, his tone portrayed nothing of his innermost thoughts. "At every step of the way, a battle between two has been forced into a muddy pit as a third intervenes. Lord Indrath has found these complications¡­ unsatisfactory."


    The Hearth. The Asclepius. After everything Toren and Chul had done, the war had finally escalated again. I swallowed, but Aldir was not done.


    "In light of these frivolous interferences, your Lord and mine have come to an understanding. This third party will be removed."


    The phoenixes of the Hearth had voted to stay out of the lesser''s war. But to Kezess and Agrona, that did not matter. Like a child upset that another had spied upon their game, they were going to wipe out any and all who dared to interfere. Kezess had sent an army here to eliminate the clan of refugee phoenixes.


    A dozen questions danced about in my head like scalding hot fireflies, but one clawed its way to the top in the barest instant.


    Why is Aldir here, and not in the Beast Glades? Why is he taking the time to address me here?


    I would have said it was because Chul was my prisoner in the dungeons far below, but one did not need an army and a royal decree for such things.


    "Lord Indrath would not extend himself so fully and risk more losses among his warriors if there was not due recompense paid by the High Sovereign in turn," I said, everything that had been happening these past few weeks settling into place like swirling sand at the bottom of an hourglass. The reason I had been kept out of Agrona''s plans. Why I''d been ordered to lead the warfront by Cadell. The illusory and hidden nature of the High Sovereign''s gambit in Xyrus, and why I was alone leading the Darvish front.


    "Ahh," I said softly, my lips parting like flesh beneath a blade. "That is how it is, isn''t it? We are a sacrifice for the board to be reset."


    My shoulders loosened, and I felt a dreaded fog slowly seep in. Aya had taken her shrouding mist with her, but it seemed only now had the veil been truly lifted from my sight. I had been too preoccupied with the vision of a lesser''s war. Too invested in my games and back-and-forth with King Arthur. Too prideful to recognize the truth of what was happening. I had been so focused on trying to preserve the Dicathians for the aftermath that I had forgotten, in some small way, that this war was never about us.


    It was ironic. It seemed Agrona had driven a knife into my back before I could sink one into his core.


    Aldir watched me the same way a man watched an ape. His controlled condescension was slashed through with characteristic indifference. "Agrona has offered the armies of Darv as fair recompense for Lord Indrath''s removal of the Asclepius traitors," he said succinctly. "This war has gone too far out of what it should be, and that shall be remedied shortly."


    His nose wrinkled ever-so-slightly. "Treachery is in Agrona''s nature, Scythe," he said with utmost distaste. "You must have thought yourself immune to it."


    I could see the grand plan playing out before me as if from Agrona''s eyes. This army of Epheotus would ravage the Alacryan forces on this warfront, and then put the Hearth to the sword. And all the while¡ªdistracted as they were by reaping lives that could not resist them and doing battle with the phoenixes¡ªAgrona would strike with whatever ritual he had prepared in Xyrus, catching the homeland of the Dragon Tyrant completely by surprise.


    A master play. I would see it ruined.


    I forced a smile on my face as I stared up at the waiting asuran army, hoping against hope. I needed to buy time. "Indeed, treachery is in his nature," I acknowledged. "Do you think that you are free from that treachery? Even now, Agrona plots to strike at your back. I might tell you how."


    Aldir paused, weighing my words. He no doubt sensed the scheme forming in my head, but he was wise enough to listen. A true general did not dismiss information.


    "And I suppose you would ask for your life to be spared in exchange for this information, lessuran?" Aldir pressed, his aura flexing the barest bit.


    I might be able to give the Hearth a chance, I thought, feeling my heart speed up. My core ached painfully as I cycled mana through it. If they will listen¡­


    "No," I said with strain. "Think of it as a betrayed general''s final play. If Agrona has truly offered me to your armies as a sacrifice, then I offer something else as well. Xyrus City. That is his focus."


    I paused, gauging the silence as I stared up at Aldir. It occurred to me that he had likely been gambling on something of this nature by being so open with his proclamations. No soldier appreciated being fed to the wolves.


    "That powderkeg has been his goal throughout all of this war, I suspect. And now, you will play right into his hands." I swept my gaze across the many asura, noting their disdain. I did not smile. That would wound their pride. Instead, I pulled my lips down into a sympathetic frown. "You think yourselves higher than me, but we are all one and the same. Betrayed."


    The pantheon on high did not speak. He studied me as I stood on those castle ramparts, but an unseen ripple went through the asura high above. More than a few turned, looking to the northeast. Some muttered amongst themselves, questions overriding their disdain. What if I was telling the truth? What if this was all some sort of trap?


    I saw my chance.


    "I do not ask to be spared from your wrath," I said slowly. I raised up my arms to the pantheon general. "Take me prisoner, if you will. Cripple my core, remove my arms and legs¡­ It doesn''t matter. I will assist you in foiling the upcoming attack on Xyrus. Kill me after, if you wish. But it would bring me¡­ joy, to see the High Sovereign''s plan fail."


    I ran my tongue across my lips, wetting them as I took my chance. Indeed, I would happily drive a knife into my own core. Toren could heal that later, alongside any mutilation necessary. Only death was the end. If I could make my way into their inner circle for a time¡ª


    "Don''t tell me you''re listening to this lesser, Lord Aldir," a voice hissed, echoing from the depths of the throng. The asuran army shifted, the attention all centralizing on a single being.


    A woman floated closer, her body covered in resplendent red armor interlinked with chains. Her hair was cut short and parted haphazardly to the side, revealing squarish facial features that looked like they had been meticulously chiseled from ivory. Red eyes gleamed balefully behind those curtains of black. "It only wants to save its life. What do you think taking it into captivity will do? It''s treacherous, just like Agrona is. You can see its plan, clear as day."


    She had horns. Black, onyx horns that curled from her skull like a ram''s. A basilisk.


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    Aldir turned to the basilisk, observing her impassively as she floated down. "Ayana Kothan," he said simply. "I do see her desire to save herself, but that is not all we must consider. Even if this Scythe is treacherous and conniving, she holds valuable information. It may take time to extract it from her, but¡­ There are methods we are both aware of."


    Clan Kothan, I thought sharply, the clan that replaced the Vritra among the Great Eight.


    The basilisk''s hateful gaze bored into me from above, and my mouth went dry. "My time is now, Aldir. Lord Indrath promised me vengeance for my race. He promised me I would get to wipe out the lessuran scum who dared to endanger everyone I knew. And now, one such spawn stands before us, and you act as if it can speak. It mimics the words of intelligent things, and you act as if they have value."


    A ripple went through the waiting gods, like a flash of lightning trailing through a thundercloud. I could suddenly sense their electric tension all over again, that desire for violence, that need to move. Everyone present was a warrior god, and they had descended to enact their authority upon the mortals who would not listen.


    "If you are so afeared by the wretch''s words, then go first to the Hearth," the basilisk, Ayana Kothan, said. Her lips were pulled into a snarl so vicious I thought it might burn me from the sheer proximity. "I will see to these fools and their army, and you will have the resources to investigate Xyrus further. Mordain is a slippery eel. If you do not act swiftly, he will run and hide again."


    I covertly summoned a few items from my dimension ring as Aldir visibly considered the vengeful basilisk''s words. I forced my breathing to steady as I slowly got a handle on the events around me. Plans started to align. Desperate, foolhardy plans. Last-ditch gambits for survival. But still plans.


    "Do not underestimate them," the three-eyed pantheon finally said, the sun glinting off his armor. His third eye flicked down to me. "Taci Thyestes paid the price for his arrogance. Do not make the same mistakes."


    The basilisk sneered, her fists clenching. "Do your duty, Lord Aldir," she said. "Time is wasting, and for the sake of Lord Indrath''s greater mission, it cannot be wasted here."


    I slowly prepared my magic as the tension in the air rose, the metaphorical band ready to snap. I cycled more and more mana through my body, preparing to call on my runes as I clasped the few artifacts I had ready.


    Aldir spared Ayana a glance. Her rage¡ªwhich had fueled each of her biting words¡ªcooled under the calm and assured power he kept restrained. "I understand your anger, Ayana. I know what your clan endured because of the Vritra''s treachery. But keep it contained, lest it see you burned."


    The basilisk, who had once been so quick to snarl and bite, turned away as Aldir''s presence cowed her. "So be it," she said quietly. "I will be cautious."


    The pantheon general nodded, before rising back toward the rest of the asura in the sky. As one, the many auras became more and more indistinct, before the many forms blurred eastward.


    One asura remained, hovering in the sky like an executioner''s axe, ready to fall. Ayana Kothan stared in the direction the rest of Kezess'' army had gone, something hollow in her gaze.


    My executioner, I thought, imbuing a bit of mana into the djinni medallion. The executioner of this entire army.


    I ground my teeth. Not if I had anything to say about it. I was Scythe Seris Vritra, foremost of Sehz-Clar. Even as this god hung in the sky high above, I would not allow myself to falter.


    The basilisk''s head slowly turned, like a massive cog on an oiled machine, to stare down at me.


    I had seen hate in the eyes of others before. So, so many times had I witnessed the desire for death and destruction from my enemies. I had watched so many men bleed out beneath my feet, hatred the last thing that had flashed in their eyes.


    But that sort of hatred needed basis. Acknowledgment of my status as a person. What shone in the back of Ayana Kothan''s eyes was the kind of hatred one reserved for an animal that had bitten them. A callous, disregarding thing. She did not hate me. She hated the idea of me. She hated something other than me, and what I saw was only a distant byproduct of this creature''s hatred.


    "It has been centuries since the Vritra fled from Epheotus," she said evenly, her voice cold as the wind began to suddenly pick up. It tugged at her short hair as her aura swelled. Black shadows writhed between the gaps of her chain-link armor, reaching and cloying about her. "Centuries since my entire race nearly faced extinction because of Agrona''s foolish choices."


    She held out her hand, and a scarlet axe¡ªthe head wicked and curved, with jagged points along the tops for tearing flesh asunder¡ªphased into existence. Drops of blood oozed off it continuously without any apparent source. Her fist squeezed around the haft, almost as if it were a neck to be broken.


    "Aldir told me to be careful dealing with mutts," she whispered, staring through me, "but I am going to take my time tearing you apart."


    The asura rocketed downward toward the castle, her axe clutched in her hand. Her boots slammed into the stones, obliterating an entire section of the ramparts in a catastrophic boom. Mana flashed around her, and the shadows formed into twisting, writhing tendrils that sought to tear me apart.


    Before the asura was even moving, I released a gout of soulfire from my shoes, eroding the castle ceiling beneath me. I fell through the clash of hellfire, narrowly avoiding the noose of those living shadows.


    At the same time, I activated my cloaking artifact, restraining my mana and heartfire from all who might sense it. I fell through several floors of the castle, rubble and debris masking me from sight high above.


    I need to make it to the dungeons, I thought, ignoring the weakness across my body. That is my only chance!


    I clung to the shadows as I blurred along the hallways, barely a flicker of silver light amidst the darkness as I fought against time. I passed a few of the dwarves and Alacryan attendants who saw to the lower floors.


    Most of them were unconscious on the floor, knocked out cold by the asuran presence. Some were stumbling on their feet, bleary and unaware of the doom that approached. My heart beat rapidly as I cycled more and more mana, trying to think through the pain.


    I only had a split instant to react.


    The attack that scythed through the corridors wasn''t a gale of soulfire or a barrage of blood iron. Instead, the shadows from whence I''d come seemed to darken. More and more and more the shadows blackened in an expanding tide of despair as they raced for me. The mana of the spell seemed to feed on the very absence of light.


    And everything those shadows touched withered away, as if time had stayed her hand for a dozen generations, then come to reap her due in one fell swoop. The stones themselves slowly crumbled into sand, then dust, then nothing at all as I flew as fast as I could afford.


    There were those who could not outrun the steady surge of the shadows. Their deaths were quick, at the very least. Their skin fell from their bodies before their flesh followed suit. And when only bones remained, those tumbled into the waiting abyss far below.


    She draws strength from the shadows, I thought feverishly. I can''t go straight to the dungeons. Her arts would draw power from the darkness.


    Before the plan was even fully formed, I veered off to the left, cutting through a hallway. I could sense the bloodlust behind me as I flowed like a fish through raging currents. That tide of shadow tore through the very foundations of the stones, withering it to dust with every second. It nipped at my heels like a jackal wearing out a fleeing impala.


    I gritted my teeth as I dropped a few items from my hands. Flares pulled from my dimension ring illuminated the darkness behind me, weakening it ever-so-slightly as I moved due east, threading through familiar passageways. Whenever a wall blocked my intended path, I coated myself in soulfire and plowed straight through.


    Almost there, I thought headily, blinking white spots out of my eyes. The furthermost wall is¡ª


    A red-plated hand surged from the darkness to the side. Each of those fingers was rigid in its extension, as if the body the hand was attached to was already a corpse under rigor mortis. And death came for me, too.


    I tried to move to the side to avoid the deliberately slow movement, but my weakening physique failed me. I couldn''t move fast enough to avoid the fingers that closed shut around my throat. I jerked to a halt, my wayward flight stopped as if I were a bird slamming into a waiting noose. The djinni medallion tumbled from my fingers, clinking to the floor in steady chimes.


    Ayana Kothan sneered as she stepped from the shadows, holding my neck like a broken doll. She looked into my eyes, savoring the fear that made me tremble. She would have been too tall for the hallway, but the steady waves of decay radiating off of her served to erode the entire castle itself.


    My hands tightened around the gauntlet as my breathing choked off. Ayana''s vindictive eyes trailed up along my horns, her lips pulled into a sneer. I tried and tried to pull my way free, but I was too weak. The greatest strength I could muster was not enough to make her fingers even budge.


    "When Agrona watched things like you crawl from the wombs of lessers," she seethed, her grip tightening, "he must have known. He was so willing to taint his blood with your kind. He did not think for the clans of basilisks left behind in Epheotus. He was too busy cavorting with apes."


    Her eyes flicked to the medallion rolling about on the ground. "And you thought you could escape, didn''t you? So arrogant, thinking yourself above punishment for your sins."


    Think, Seris! I told myself, gasping for breath. I could feel my heart rate slowing as I lost oxygen, my vision flickering in and out. Don''t let her kill you! Don''t let them win!


    I couldn''t¡­ I couldn''t die here, dangling like a broken doll from a basilisk''s grip. As my heartbeat slowed more and more, my struggles futile as this monster casually squeezed the life from me like a hand around an overripe fruit, I felt my body weakening even more.


    Chul was still down below. He was¡­ the only chance. But if I died here¡­


    I blinked, my struggles weakening. And in the hallucinations in the back of my mind, the sneering basilisk that squeezed my throat was no longer the ram-horned, vindictive Kothan.


    No. I saw a man with an easy smile. With antlered horns that split and branched with the ancient weight of a hundred trees. Those facial features became something mocking and quietly familiar.


    Part of me had always expected this to be the end. Dying beneath the claws of an asura for daring to hope for more. For daring¡­ to try and rise above my station. The hope in the corners of my mind¡ªthat burning light¡ªbegan to dim, overcome by shadow as everything else in the castle.


    My heartbeat slowed more.


    My heartbeat. My heartbeat. My desperate mind caught on that as a titan bear''s claws sank into a silver panther''s flesh.


    On pure instinct and desperation, I moved the hand grasping Ayana''s gauntleted fingers, instead drawing sharp claws of mana across my opposite hand. My blood sprayed, strangely pale against the dancing shadows.


    My own blood burned as it coated my fingers, the energy within eating me away. And with a simple flick of my wrist, I sent droplets of that red liquid spraying at the arrogant basilisk.


    She wasn''t caught off guard. A slight barrier of dark mana arose right before her eyes, an extension of her mana shroud. She probably thought it would spare her my pitiful attack. After all, what could I conjure that would ever pose a threat to a true asura?


    Her defenses were insufficient. The white light of the deviant magic within my blood flared, scouring a way through her mana shroud with ease, before splashing against her eyes. She shut them in utmost surprise, yelling in sudden pain as her eyelids sizzled.


    I took that opportunity to build up every reserve of strength I had. Every ounce of power I could muster. I snarled, slamming a fist coated in my blood against the gauntlet holding my neck.


    The deviant mana was indiscriminate in what type of basilisk it chose to devour. My slim hand phased through the asura''s mana barrier as if it didn''t exist, before crashing into the metal armor surrounding her wrist. The metal dented slightly. Not enough to truly wound her.


    But enough that her grip spasmed, allowing me to just barely slip free.


    I fell weakly to the ground like a sack of grain as the asura howled in pain, one of her hands going to her burned eyes. I blinked through the haze, scrambling toward the djinni medallion on the floor. I grabbed it haphazardly, trying to get my feet under me. Once again, I tried to follow that predetermined path.


    Ayana had other plans. She howled¡ªthe pain more in her pride than her eyes¡ªand swung that axe of hers in a haphazard cut. A line of solid shadow trailed it in an arc, carving through the several floors of the castle in a straight, unerring slice toward me.


    I conjured one of my shields, bracing as I stumbled over my own feet. I forced my hand to stay outstretched, desperately stumbling away from the god''s casual attack.


    It was not enough. The shadow parted my barrier and skin, then my flesh and bone, before passing through without ceasing. Blood sprayed as my severed arm fell to the ground, still outstretched in a vain attempt at defense. I screamed in pain, blood pumping from my shoulder as I tried to keep sense of my surroundings.


    The basilisk moved. One moment, she was a few feet away. The next, her fist was pressing slowly into my stomach, the impact measured and careful. I locked eyes with her, noting the inflamed redness around her eyes as her mana fought against the infection I''d thrown at her.


    So much hate, I thought distantly through the agony. So much hate.


    And then she followed through. I slammed through half a dozen walls at speeds too fast for me to comprehend, stones breaking and shattering at every intersection. The bones in my back broke long before I erupted into the afternoon light.


    But then, I was outside. The sun gleamed down from on high as I trailed slowly through the sky, the light bathing me in its warmth.


    I fell, smoke trailing from my body as I arced down toward the camp far below. I hit the ground with a sickening crunch, rolling a few times. Through the fog of my perception, I was aware of the soldiers running and fleeing from me. Men screamed for their mothers. Others had succumbed to the aura already, their hearts seizing. Still more tried to organize a retreat.


    Blood trailed from my lips as I lay in a heap. Pain wracked every inch of my body, the inverted deviant stretching further than it ever had before. The shoulder stump of my arm sizzled with soulfire as it fought to try and heal me.


    It was strange, the things that ran through one''s mind when they were in distress. Because as I thought of all that I might lose upon my death, in a way I would have never imagined just a year past, my mind fell upon my most recent experiment. Where I tried to emulate the creation of Inversion using a separate vessel, draining part of my blood. Just like separating an arm.


    And as I cycled more mana through my mana veins, the strangest idea struck me. An inkling of a possibility that pulled everything I knew together. What had Toren said about Integration, again? When one''s core finally broke upon ascension, did the mana within not¡­ leave, for a moment? Was a body not¡­ empty, for a brief second, before it all came crashing back in?


    I smiled beneath bloody teeth as a wondrous idea fell into place. My body was nearly broken. My core was on the brink of shattering. That inverted deviant had reached every recess of my physique, and I knew I would die soon if things did not change.


    But my mind¡­ My mind was as whole as ever, bathing in that sunny sky high above.


    I coughed, then slowly pulled myself to my feet. I blinked, looking down at my decimated dress. It was tattered and torn, and caked in blood and dust. The ribbons had once been beautiful and graceful. A shame.


    "This dress was one of my favorites," I muttered with a confident wheeze, pulling myself into as upright a posture as I could manage. I gripped the stump of my left arm with my right hand. "You will pay for sullying it, asura."


    Ayana Kothan stalked toward me, the shadows around her writhing like serpents. Her face was pulled into a snarl, the area around her eyes red with rage as much as pain. But the droplets of my blood had hurt her. Red liquid fell upward from her axe as if caught in a gravity well. It gleamed in the sunlight. In a radius hundreds of feet around her, soldiers collapsed with whimpers from her sheer presence, mana fizzling out as her shadows grasped at them and turned them to less than dust.


    "Petty tricks, Scythe," she sneered, moving forward with inexorable power. "This is where you die."


    I slowly shook my head, adjusting the mana in my core as I cycled it in. I had attributed the twinge in my nexus of power as being a side effect of overuse, but I realized how wrong I was. "It is rare that I meet an asura that is not a hypocrite," I said, my hatred suffusing my voice. "So self-righteous in wishing to avenge your race."


    I swept my gaze across my army. The people I had led here. The people I had ordered to wait. I saw Lusul Hercross there in the crowd, gasping for breath as he stared up at me with despair. Elder Rahdeas was not far away, his gaze broken and defeated.


    "And yet you go on to try and commit a genocide of your own." I tilted my head. "You will die for it, godling."


    The asura''s focus honed in on me completely and utterly. I felt it squeezing every side, like a manapress breaking down steel into mush. She tuned out all else as she stalked forward, her nostrils flaring as she hefted her axe. "I will make your death slow," she hissed. "Slow. I care not for what Aldir said."


    I did not move, despite my fear. My reddened smile only widened.


    Ayana Kothan did not defend herself from the fist that smashed into her jaw. How could she? She was too focused on me, too blinded by her rage.


    She shot away with a crack of thunder and breaking bone, a wave of force radiating outward from the impact. A few military tents were sent hurtling into the air. Men screamed as a small storm of dust trailed outward from the center.


    The Kothan basilisk carved a furrow into the dirt, before haphazardly righting her balance. Her jaw was dislocated from the punch, and she had dropped her axe. She stared in disbelief at the one who had caught her by surprise.


    Chul Asclepius exhaled, his fist still extended in a perfect, graceful straight punch. His breath steamed, and when he clenched his fist, wind radiated out from him that made my dress flare. A dozen small cuts still littered his orange martial robes from where Toren had landed blows, but they were inconsequential as his aura pushed away the asuran warrior''s.


    Cylrit had made it in time.


    The half-phoenix turned to look at me, eyes of orange and blue taking in my disheveled state. I wondered if he remembered the last time we had faced off like this, the half-blood so ready to end those who stood in his way.


    But he was different now. His eyes still raged, needing vengeance. But it was not blind.


    His brows hardened as he saw the blood streaming from me. His eyes drifted to the stump of my arm, the blood marring my teeth, and then to the thousands of dying men. Men who would die because an asura did not care.


    Then he turned back to the surprised basilisk, settling into a martial stance as he outstretched his fingers like talons.


    "The thunder in my heart demands the blood of the Vritra," he snarled, phoenix fire coating his fists. Something glimmered on the edge of his neck: a Brand slowly forming as he resolved himself to fight for the men sprawled about. "You are not of their blood, basilisk. Yet it shall suffice to quench my thirst."

 Chapter 305 303: Dust to Dust

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Seris Vritra


    Battles had a rhythm to them.


    It mattered not what sort of battle it was. Be it one of the mind across a Sovereign''s Quarrel board, one of the heart as two grew to love each other, or one of steel as blades parted flesh, there was a rhythm, a tempo that followed each and every movement of the players, moving them inexorably toward a distant conclusion.


    When I was young, deep within the confines of Taegrin Caelum''s vaults, I had seen this with the inquisitive eyes of a basilisk. I had sensed the puzzle pieces as instruments in a grand production, each one becoming more than the sum of its parts. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And deep within those white testing labs¡ªso sterile to be nearly pungent and offensive in their glaring lack of contrast¡ªI had desired to be the conductor of the grand symphonies. I had seen Orlaeth and Agrona push and pull on those around them with the precision of masters in their craft, and I had seen myself in their place.


    I remembered my ambition, decades ago. Not understanding that I was just as much another player on the board, I had wanted to be the one above it all. And once I had become a Scythe, my first steps had been to align the game in my favor.


    The symphony of oncoming destruction whirled about me like the eye of a storm as Chul Asclepius stood between me and certain death. The young phoenix kept his offhand extended to the sky, his fingers outstretched, but he did not move as he faced the basilisk. Dozens of soldiers finally remembered their mortality. The stronger ones screamed, fleeing for their lives.


    The weaker ones trembled as Chul''s aura struggled to protect them from the encroaching shadows.


    My remaining hand clenched around the stump of my left arm as I calculated my options. Chul was powerful, absurdly so. But compared to a full-fledged warrior of Epheotus, who would never slow and never tire¡­


    My eyes narrowed as I refined my fledgling plan, realigning and refactoring possibilities. Chul would fight, true¡­ but would he win? And if he didn''t¡­


    If he didn''t, I would be ready.


    Ayana Kothan''s visage was one of utter disgust as she adjusted her dislocated jaw, before snapping it back into place. She spat out a tooth, ignoring the blood that streamed from the edge of her lips where Chul''s fist had struck her.


    "Another half-breed," she hissed, her form rippling. Scales red as blood glimmered beneath her flesh, her features turning slightly more angular. The sunlight glinted strangely off her as something tried to tear its way free from beneath her fleshy exterior, like a miner emerging from the dark. "I will take my time tearing you¡ª"


    Chul was already moving, a gale of wind trailing him like a cloak. He bellowed, fire coating his fists. Ayana growled, her fingers elongating into claws as the warrior of the Hearth took the initiative.


    Collision.


    Fire danced with shadow, and force tore from them that would sunder the greatest of mankind''s creations. I didn''t see anything more as the eruption of mana threw me from my feet.


    I rolled through the haphazard camp again, my senses overwhelmed by pain. I thought I struck my head across a stone, but I couldn''t be sure. All I knew was agony. White-hot fire scalded my nerves as dust and heat blanketed my vision, turning my surroundings into a kaleidoscope of movement and dying men. My thoughts¡ªwhich had been so clear at the moment¡ªscattered again as I was once again imbued with my mortality.


    A trailing arc of shadow passed through nearly a score of men before it dissipated. Fire roared in tune with someone''s battlecry, and the sound of tearing metal and cacophonous thunder was all I could perceive.


    I coughed weakly, blood streaming from my lips. My vision swam with spots of white, inverted decay, my very eyes feeling like they would burst within my sockets like overripe fruit before withering away. Colors and sensations that shouldn''t work together struck me from all sides, each assailant taking turns hammering their grievances into the depths of my skull.


    And suddenly, I was being moved again. Hauled in some direction I couldn''t discern. Up? To the side? I¡­ The pain made it hard. I wanted¡­ I wanted to just¡­


    My vision flickered, blurry images focusing, before blurring again. Sounds flowed around me. Sounds that should have meaning.


    Concussed. That was the first thing I managed to pull together from the scattered mist of my thoughts. I struck my head.


    The second thing I was aware of was the blood. It streamed from somewhere above my forehead, dripping through my eye and into my mouth. For an instant, it tasted sweet.


    "Seris!" that voice echoed again. It was trembling with fear. Cylrit? "Seris, I''m going to activate the medallion artifact. You cannot stay here."


    My vision focused suddenly, squeezing more drops of concentrated misery from my aching skull. I took in my surroundings with rising clarity. I became aware of my breath again, the sense of each particle of dust and blood coating the inside of my lungs. I could feel where my arm used to be. Cylrit''s gauntleted arm was on mine as he lifted me to my feet, his other hand already fumbling with the djinni coin.


    "No," I pushed out through bloody teeth. The words sounded weak, like the last whisper of autumn through the leaves before winter finally came. "I have¡­"


    I shook, aware of how far the infection of inverted decay had spread. It had sunk its heaving claws further into me than ever before, the deviant of mana as opportunistic as I was.


    I didn''t have the energy to smile at that. But it seemed that some things were going according to plan.


    "I have a plan," I finally pressed out, my sense returning to me at last. "I need to get to the¡­ top of the castle. Away from the others. And you need to leave¡­ now."


    Another wave of force echoed somewhere behind Cylrit and me. The trailing bellow of pain would have thrown me to the ground again if it weren''t for my stalwart Retainer. I could see his eyes, though, feverish and worried. Worried for me. He braced before the aftermath of two dueling gods, protecting me from their thunderstorm as it trailed further away. I heard the distant splash of water and spellfire.


    Chul is taking the battle elsewhere, I thought, pulling on the Retainer''s arm as much as I could manage. But he won''t last. He''ll burn out.


    Cylrit didn''t move, despite my insistence. "Seris, you''re dying," he said quietly. "That energy is going to kill you. We need to get you help. That''s what matters right now."


    I had the strength left to turn and glare at him, feeling how my heartbeats ticked closer to my death. I opened my mouth to try and explain, to try and order him away, but all that left my lips was a bloody wheeze.


    This insufferable shell! I thought with bitter desperation, my head pounding like a drum. What use is a mind with no way to profess its secrets?


    "There''s more that matters," I said quietly. "Not just me."


    Cylrit''s lips pursed, and I could sense his reluctance. I silenced him by stealing the djinni medallion from his palm, clutching it tight to my own.


    "This cannot save me," I said weakly, separating from Cylrit. I didn''t know where I found the strength, but I started in an errant movement as I calculated my path to the castle. "There is only one way I¡­ survive this, Cylrit. One way we all make it out alive."


    I turned back to the man, observing him from the toes of his boots to the horns on his head. I thought I could see tears glistening on the edges of his eyes, too, but I was certain that was only because of the dust.


    He was so unlike Kelagon. Cylrit''s father had been a monster of the highest order, and I felt something in me shift as I saw his care shining through his hardened exterior.


    Cylrit always reminded me of what I could become. Physically, he was a near-perfect mirror of his father: the exact thing I could never let myself become again. But he also stood as proof that I was not that creature from the Redfeud. He was not his father, and that was because I had pulled him from that path.


    "Get as many as you can away from the castle," I said, blinking past the encroaching whiteness in my vision. It was getting harder to focus as I slowly succumbed. "Escort our army into the tunnels. That is where they''ll be safe, Cylrit. Get them to the safehouses, and hope. Trust me. I''ll see you again soon."


    "I will take you there," he tried immediately, stepping forward. He stretched out his hand, the gauntlet trembling. "You can hardly walk. You need my support."


    I swallowed dust. "You would die if you accompanied me, Cylrit," I said with utmost honesty. "And I will need your support. When this is over. I will find my way there."


    The man stood rigid for a time, just staring at me. I saw his hands clench, his mind flash with indecision. He wanted to ignore my words. He wanted to ignore everything I said and rip the medallion from my hands, before escorting us somewhere else.


    It occurred to me¡ªdistantly¡ªthat I was not the only subject of Toren''s empathic senses. My Retainer was changing, too.


    "As you wish, Master," he finally said, snapping a grim salute. "I will report as soon as my mission is done over the standard channels."


    And then he turned and hurtled back through the dust. I heard his loud voice, booming like it had never before as he shouted orders to scattered troops to convene and gather together.


    I exhaled, feeling my lungs brush against some ribs that must have been broken. I felt weak again, without my constant support.


    But it didn''t matter.


    I turned on my heel and trudged toward my destination. Blood coated the ground in thick pools, and my heels were hardly high enough to spare my feet the red liquid seeping through. A slurry of dirt and broken dreams trailed behind me as I began my trek.


    Chul and the Kothan had barely clashed, and already it had torn apart dozens of lives at the minimum.


    I stumbled over a body that was missing most of its limbs, the shadows at the edges leaking null light. I caught myself haphazardly on a jutting spear, cursing my weakness and the way my limbs burned.


    Come on, Seris, I thought to myself. It is only a few yards.


    And¡ªfor the second time in barely a few minutes¡ªI felt someone bolstering me from the side. A sturdy presence, solid and rigid like the stone as they supported me on my feet.


    I blinked down at the person who had lifted me, wondering if I were hallucinating.


    Elder Rahdeas had seen better days. The dwarf had always borne scars, each like that tattered page of a distant battlefield book. The long-lost memory of a knife arced over his bald head, joined by another along the back of his skull. More littered his arms like clippings of pale grass. One had robbed him of his eye, leaving him wearing an eyepatch and a well-worn, grandfatherly appearance.


    Something had stolen his other eye today. Only a dark red gash remained of the socket, and it leaked fresh blood like tears.


    Yet despite his wounds¡ªI could tell he bore many¡ªthe old dwarf was solid as a mountaintop as he helped me stand.


    "Where are we goin'', Scythe?" he muttered absently, his voice a low bass rumble. "I can''t see."


    I slumped into his bolstering frame. "Forward," I said quietly, trusting my fellow in rebellion for this simple moment. "Just keep going forward."


    We left the cloud of dust soon enough. I was only partially aware of the chaos unfolding as men screamed and ran, their shouts and spells flying. Above us, a battle was taking place in the sky between two behemoths of mana, but it would draw to a conclusion eventually.


    I blinked away the pain in my eyes, and suddenly, we were before a pile of rubble that barred our path.


    I must have lost consciousness for a moment, I thought distantly, my hand clenching around the djinni medallion as if it were an oath.


    Rahdeas sighed, then began to shift his spellwork. He didn''t speak, intent on his craft as he moved boulder after boulder out of the way. In the distance, the castle loomed, inviting as any chest of treasure or wicked-sharp knife.


    I could feel my sweat against my robes as the dwarven Elder practically hauled me through the gap. "You still fight," he said quietly. "The asura come, and you still fight."


    There was an unspoken question there. How.


    Rahdeas¡­ He had fought, too. When he thought there was a chance, when he thought there was hope for his people. But once the true might of Alacrya had been made known, he had begun to wither, taking a backseat in everything.


    And so he asked me why I kept going. He wanted to know what made me move, step after step.


    I scoffed, drawing on some of my oldest strengths. "I am¡­ a Scythe," I said. "I have spent my years always fighting. Do you think that I would simply let them kill me?"


    Rahdeas didn''t respond as we finally approached the dwarven castle. It loomed high above us, casting a shadow as deep and dark as Taegrin Caelum''s. The parapets were tall, distant. Far apart from the shattered army that was retreating with all haste from the battling gods.


    An orange comet slammed into the ground a dozen yards away, before skidding with enough force to dig trenches in the earth.


    I barely had time to register that Chul had been grounded. The young phoenix was covered in countless wounds, each streaming blood. His teeth were clenched, and his left hand was still outstretched, as if in silent offering to gods that would never come. He heaved for breath, hauling in lungfuls as fire sputtered weakly around him.


    High above, Ayana Kothan¡ªbearing only a few cuts across her face and lingering burns in her hair¡ªsneered as she surged down to assault her prey. Her axe was nowhere to be seen. "I will tear out your eyes and present them to Lord Indrath!" she howled, her body shifting as a light the color of blood shone beneath her wounds. "Behold, halfling! A true asura!"


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    And she started to grow.


    As she flew down, more and more of her true, asuran form became distinct. Her face shifted, elongating as the serpent beneath shed its skin, casting off a weaker, imperfect form. Larger and larger she grew, armor melding into blood-red scales that covered her from serpentine head to toe. She was sinuous, sleek, and terribly graceful. Graceful like a lightning bolt. Graceful like death. Wings like a bat''s spread from her in a span wide enough to cast the shadowed castle itself into darkness.


    All six of her eyes gleamed with that same, dull hatred. And she roared.


    The sound sank into my very soul: a distorted mix of serpentine hiss and a landslide. I could feel the infection in my blood crying out in rage at the very noise.


    Chul''s lips pulled back into a snarl, phoenix fire swirling around him. He didn''t move. He didn''t shift. Where once he had been gasping, now he barely seemed to breathe. The warrior was a frozen statue, hand still stretched out behind him as he bled into the dirt.


    "The substance of your form matters not," he said quietly, barely audible over the roar of the deity above as it dove for him like an arrow. "They can bleed. They can die."


    I heard the whistle of something far in the distance as it tore through the sky, screeching like a bird in flight.


    "Underground!" I shouted, with as much energy as I could muster. "Underground, now!"


    Rahdeas was already acting, calling on the mana as the two colossi reared for a clash. And as the ground sank beneath our feet, Mother Earth swallowing us in her gullet, I could just barely see what happened.


    A mace hurtled in from the south, alight with fire and fury. Suncrusher returned to Chul''s hand with a rush of air, his fingers closing around the blackened haft. It must have tracked all the way from distant Burim, a shooting star returning to grant a wish. The young phoenix spun like a tornado, pivoting with the condensed momentum of a returning meteor.


    Ayana Kothan didn''t have time to react. The speed of the hurtling missile carried Chul''s upward, crashing blow into her outstretched lower jaw, a flare of phoenix fire engulfing her face.


    And then we were underground. The shockwave traveled over us, the earth rumbling from the tooth-breaking strike. And I could feel the castle rumbling, shifting toward collapse above. I felt the stones heat with sizzling force, the proximity to phoenix fire imbuing them with Chul''s fury.


    We were underground for barely a moment before Rahdeas shifted us upward again. The air was hot and nearly scalding as it assaulted us, embers of asuran destruction lingering everywhere.


    I coughed, hot air scalding my already tattered lungs. By the Vritra, I felt so¡­ weak.


    My gaze drifted to the castle, so high above.


    It had been nearly destroyed. The stones were blackened. Of the four tall towers it once bore, each like an unwavering, unbreakable pillar, now only one remained. Like a ribcage scraped free of flesh, the stairwells and tower exposed their innards to the burning sky.


    "Just a little bit more," I coughed, unsure if the dwarf could hear me. "We just need to go a little bit¡­ further."


    Rahdeas groaned slightly, wavering on his feet. But then the stocky man plodded onward under my direction, angling us toward an exposed staircase.


    As we slowly started to ascend, one painful step at a time, I glanced at the sky.


    It was awash with fire and burning shadow. Two distant figures danced: one, a brilliant star, and the other a black hole that wanted nothing more than to extinguish all light. They zipped and moved about each other as they ascended, their battle leaving the lessers behind.


    But even this far away¡­ Even from so far below, it was clear to my trained eyes.


    Chul was losing. That blot of starlight was dimming, while the nova of darkness only grew.


    The only solace I had was that the Alacryan and dwarven army was beginning to retreat back into the sands, their movements far, far more orderly than they were before. Cylrit had succeeded.


    Now it was only myself and an old dwarf, ascending on a stairway to the skies.


    I raised my foot, my thighs and calves and very bones straining just to move up from step to step. "You asked me why¡­ I still fought," I said, my consciousness drifting as I struggled to keep hold of my plan. "You asked me why I refused to¡­ die."


    Rahdeas didn''t reply right away. His torn socket bled into his beard like a river splitting into a dozen tributaries of scarlet, and the only source of his acknowledgment was a tremble of his lips.


    "Aye," he said quietly, hauling me up that open stairwell. Rocks tumbled around us, the stones beneath our feet shaking and trembling as the castle fought not to buckle beneath the weight of all that had struck it.


    Higher and higher we went. Step after step. On the outside of the ascending spiral staircase that had been relieved of its walls, I had a perfect view of the battlefield as we went up and up. And as the two of us rose toward the heavens, buoyed on by desires chiseled from decades of heartache and despair, I found myself cast back into the past.


    A raw, painful truth seared across my mind, as painful as the inverted decay that had sunk into every single one of my cells.


    I never expected to defeat Agrona or topple his regime. For all my plans and schemes and long-term goals, I had no chance to truly break the Sovereigns. And even if I did, I would fall before Epheotus'' forces as they came.


    The closest thing in my mind was a plan to have Kezess and Agrona destroy each other. It was absurd, foolish, and impossible. Only one would emerge from their dance. It was truth. And it had only become more clear in the wake of Burim''s devastation.


    "At the start," I said weakly, cycling mana from the air as I slowly succumbed to my wounds, "I never expected a true result. It was just something that needed to be done."


    The admittance burned my throat more than any of Chul''s fires or the dust lining my lungs. The final, grim understanding that I had never expected to win, that I had been expecting annihilation, just like the army below, tore through my pride like ragged claws.


    But then I remembered the burning fire Toren had thrust into my chest, like a searing stake that pierced my heart. I remembered his tales of another world, where it was possible to resist the asura.


    I called on mana rotation, flooding my core as much as I could as we continued on our upward trek. And as I fed that ravenous hunger in my blood, perpetuating my approaching demise, I let another emotion rise: a mirror and sister to the hatred I''d allowed Aya Grephin to see.


    I stumbled, falling to my knees as my legs gave out. Rahdeas barely caught me. Each strand of muscle and flesh was slowly sizzling away beneath the catastrophic failure of every inch of my body. I felt as if I were submerged in burning tar, the substance refusing to abandon any inch of my cells. My silver hair fell past my face as I glared at the steps that denied me.


    I growled, spitting blood onto the cobblestones. Anger and bitter fury rose from the depths of my core, fueling me like nothing before. "I''m tired," I snarled. "Tired of masking it all. Tired of¡­ pretending like they are above us. They can die. And I''m going to see all who press their boots into our throats¡­ perish. So long have they broken everything good."


    Rahdeas hauled me up again, grunting from the pain. The old dwarf leaned against the central column for a moment, catching his breath. For the first time, I realized that one of his legs must have been broken. We had been limping all this way, but I thought that had been because of me.


    "They are gods, Scythe," he said quietly, disbelief in his tone. "They will not die."


    "Watch me kill them," I hissed. "We climb together, Rahdeas. We climb to their heavens to cast them down."


    Rahdeas opened his mouth to reply, but the castle rumbled again. The battle outside was reaching its conclusion, and the aftershocks were shaking an already broken foundation.


    The stairs beneath us trembled. One crack. Two.


    And then they started to crumble.


    I only had a second to feel panic washing through me, but the old dwarf was faster. Rahdeas picked me up by the back of my dress with one meaty hand, then threw me forward as if I were a sack of potatoes.


    As I flew through the air, devoid of my usual grace, I caught a glimpse of the burly man''s face as he fell. It wasn''t peaceful. It was strained and wrought with agony as the stones hauled him back toward the earth below.


    But even without eyes, I thought I could feel his intent pressing into me, urging me onward. And then the darkness swallowed him, taking him as it took everyone else.


    "No," I said in defiance, hauling myself forward with my sole remaining hand, barely clutching the djinni medallion at the same time. I could not fathom how my bones did not crumble to dust, but perhaps they sensed my mission. Perhaps they had an inkling of what was to come. "No. The darkness will not take any more."


    I crawled the rest of the way to the top. Like a serpent slithering through the dirt, I let that anger guide me, imbuing each of my muscles with burning determination and resolve. One step. Two. Three. Five.


    And when I reached the top, I felt the sun washing over me like a loving hand. Those rays caressed my broken body, granting me some solace.


    I gripped the edge of a crumbling wall, pulling myself to my feet. I leaned against the stones, feeling the wind as it rushed past me and set my hair fluttering.


    A phoenix fell from the sky. A creature of fiery wings, orange feathers, and streaming blood careened from the heavens, trailing smoke as the Sehz River rushed up to meet it. Chul slammed into the river like a cannonball, smoke and steam rising around his asuran body as the water subsumed him.


    High above, Ayana Kothan''s red basilisk form sneered in triumph, the winged serpent twisting about itself as it spat shadows down into the water. She bore a few cuts and wounds, but nothing that would hamper a warrior. Nothing that signified true damage.


    She was in the sky. Good.


    Inversion had been created by taking a piece of a basilisk, flushing it of mana, and imbuing it with a spark. A primer of something other. And in that process, it had changed.


    My core shuddered. The pieces were ready.


    I sent out one, last desperate plea, one request of the ambient mana around me, as recompense for all those who had died. A tribute for the misery and death that had wrought itself across the world.


    And I began to rise into the sky again. Painfully and fitfully, I slowly ascended into the winds, my blood streaming from me in flecks of near-white.


    And now¡­ I needed to talk to him. I needed Toren''s help.


    I gathered every ounce of my conviction, every stored reserve of my love, hatred, anger, and everything else. I compressed it into a ball, hammering it deep and down into a singularity of emotion. I gathered everything that connected him to me, everything that our bond had been built upon. I remembered our kisses, his touch, his care.


    And then I stared up into the open sky, and I let that emotion flow.


    Toren, I thought to the world, working on a hunch, Toren. Listen to me. Toren. I need you.


    There was silence for a moment. Pitiful, broken silence. My demand was met with emptiness as vast as the sky. I recalled my lover''s tales of how Circe Milview had called to him, and I felt a rise of fury in my gut, reinforcing my plea.


    You''ll listen to the calls from a girl you only healed once?! I hissed into the aether. But not me, now? Listen to my heartbeat! Hear me now! Give me your strength!


    For a moment, I was worried that my gambit was wrong. That my guess would fail; that every cog of this plan would fall apart without that needed spark.


    But I felt a warmth brush close to my mind. A soothing, loving calm that wanted to wrap me in its embrace. It made the agonies across my physique somehow easier to bear. Right now, I wasn''t alone. Even as I hovered like a lone monolith in the sky, I could almost imagine the red-headed mage''s frantic worry as he sensed my wounds.


    Yes¡­ He could heal through the distant soul, couldn''t he? The foolish phoenix-born mage had shown it with Tessia Eralith and Circe Milview, had he not?


    I smiled through bloody teeth, ignoring the sudden streak of horror that Toren felt through his soul. I could sense his healing energies at the ready, but I stalled him. Not now. Not yet.


    At the edge of the Sehz, Chul was pulling himself from the river, drenched and weakened. His asuran form had fallen away, unable to be sustained by his defunct core. Ayana Kothan snarled, preparing herself to lunge downward for a finishing strike. Her talons dripped with phoenix blood.


    Both of us were aware of one solid truth. Today, a god would die.


    I gathered all my power into my lungs, and then I yelled. "Asura!"


    The call traveled like the shockwaves that had rippled across the world in the wake of these two titans clashing. The wind seemed to still as the world held its breath.


    Ayana turned. It wasn''t just her head, but her entire being that seemed to writhe about itself, six thin limbs stamping at nothing as she hissed at me. I felt the weight of her attention, but it was nothing compared to the burning in my soul. Toren''s horror deepened.


    I began to call on my mana, one last time. I flooded it toward the djinni medallion, imbuing it with the necessary reserves. My vision fuzzed. "I will kill you," I taunted. "When I return, I will see you gone. I will tear off your wings and feed you your charbroiled eyes. Always I have worked to climb, and finally, I will drown your Heaven in war! That is my word!"


    The basilisk''s eyes widened with fury as she observed the space around me begin to warp, no doubt recognizing the effect. I would escape, and she would be left with nothing. Nothing but ash.


    She snapped sideways like a whip, ignoring the defeated Chul. As planned, a hundred tons of living deity surged for me in that silence between the winds.


    I stared into those eyes. I looked across that sinuous form. And I realized¡ªsomewhere deep in my core¡ªthat this was what I had been preparing for for years. I had spent so long beneath the boots of these beasts, so ready to tremble and cower.


    "Arrogant!" it hissed. "I will tear your army apart! Agrona will have nothing left of your corpse to twist and experiment on!"


    The asura closed the distance with frightening speed. In one instant, she was miles away. The next, she was barely a few yards from me, her fangs poised to tear me apart. Red subsumed my entire vision as I stared into the gullet of this god. I could see her pulsing flesh beneath all the pomp and arrogance.


    I exhaled. My mana core cracked, then shattered.


    And Integration began.


    All the inverted decay¡ªevery ounce of it, spread wholly across my body over the past few minutes¡ªerupted from me like the rebounding power of a supernova''s collapse. A wave of white soulfire roared outward in an omnidirectional wave, imbued with every inch of my hatred of the basilisks. It was hardened and tempered by my trials and my pain. It burned with my hope and drive and seared from the depths of my soul.


    The wave of decaying energy turned the entire castle to less than ash in a heartbeat. Stone recalled that it was simply dust in the end, then gave a last sigh before the might of Integration. Though I must have screamed from the depths of my spirit, the flames were silent. When they devoured, they did so without a sound.


    Ayana Kothan was subsumed. The wall of white soulfire struck her like a tidal wave, hungry and rabid. The ocean of fire surrounded her, scorching her wings. Her eyes. Her bones. Her scales. Her everything.


    A bare speck of this energy had torn its way through her mana barrier, nearly blinding her. And now¡­


    Now she faced enough of it to blot out the sky.


    The basilisk screeched once in a pitiful wail as her flesh withered across her skeleton. The skin beneath her wings burned away, leaving only charred sticks masquerading as bones, before those vanished too.


    White fire devoured her whole. A single remaining eye stared at me in horror and disbelief as the asura was thrown backward, the entire being going up like charred paper. Ashes the color of bone trailed in the wake of her disintegrating body. She tried to move, but every shift and use of mana only sent that infection deeper into her mana veins.


    I stared into that single eye, savoring the light as it evaporated. Something deep within me welled up as the spark within winked out, too fast for true comprehension. I felt it press against the confines of my chest, needing release.


    Toren was right. What separated asura from man? What made these mana-bound beings any better than those beneath their feet? They all died the same.


    I was devoid of mana. Completely and utterly, in that instant where a god withered before me, I was no more powerful than an unadorned as the nimbus of power washed over the battlefield.


    In perfect timing, Toren''s heartfire streamed from his soul under my demands. I drank it greedily, my weakened heart pumping it across every inch of my body in record pace. My horns ached as lifeforce streamed through them, and I found that I was gleaming white. I shone like the moon as embers of power flowed around me.


    That force pressing against my lungs finally erupted.


    I laughed aloud as my arm regrew in record pace, my bones reknitting as my body shifted with lifeforce. I laughed to the heavens as Ayana''s bleached bones hung adrift in the sky, poised in a hubristic attempt to devour me whole.


    I laughed. I laughed with delight and sorrow and love, staring into the sky as my horns¡ªonce dark as obsidian¡ªgleamed with moonlight. I laughed as I felt the world around me in a way never before, my ascension complete. I laughed as I changed, everything inverted. I could sense Toren''s disbelief and confusion over this soul-bound connection. I wanted him to be here. I wanted to take him in my arms and dance over this tattered creature''s bones, laughing about life and absurdity all the while.


    That spherical expansion of inverted soulfire halted in the distance. Then, as if pulled by some gravitational well, it started to crash back inward. The weave of mana washed over the bleached bones of Ayana, tearing them apart again like strips of paper from a forbidden manuscript. They disintegrated into white ash, before the energy slammed back into me.


    I gasped, that lingering dust coating me from head to toe as it all compressed again. My consciousness wavered once more as I hovered in the sky, a saint anointed in the ashes of a dead god.


    The djinni medallion in my hand flickered, space warping around me.


    And then I was lost, my mind scattered to the wind.

 Chapter 306 304: Dying Spasms

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Reynolds Leywin


    The green, healing light shimmered over Alice''s fingertips. The motes of energy danced down toward the bleeding wound, the energy sinking into the flesh like steam over a lake. I watched with bated breath, the scalpel clenched lightly in my hands.


    The mage coughed under my wife''s careful application of magic. The color started to return to his cheeks as the gash just under his armpit slowly began to close. Alice''s auburn hair clung to her face, matted with sweat and hours of focused exertion, but she did not relent.


    And I stood by the side, my part done as I waited in silent support of my wife. The barbed broadhead I''d helped extract¡ªstill stinking with putrid, infectious mana¡ªsizzled ominously on the nearby metal plate, angry that it had been torn from its victim.


    Time trickled like fluid down a drip infusion. In the sterile halls and bleached floors of this wing of the medical research division of Xyrus Academy, a battle no less impactful as the ones on the front lines was being waged. Thunder crashed outside the sturdy walls as rain hurled itself at the structure in a vain attempt to wear us all down.


    The man groaned, glassy eyes staring out from behind seared eyebrows. He moved his mouth, trying to say something, but the exhalation seemed to sap more of his strength.


    The wound finally closed. Alice exhaled a heavy sigh, using a designated cloth to wipe away the sweat on her brow. She stayed where she was, though, still staring down at her patient, fully healed.


    I carefully set down the scalpel on a nearby metal tray, a slight smile tugging at the edges of my lips. "You''ve worked a miracle again, Alice," I said quietly, shifting closer to her. "I didn''t think this man would¨C-"


    Alice raised a hand, distancing me. She didn''t turn to look at me, her lips still pursed and her brow furrowed as she stared down at the patient she had just saved.


    I frowned, confused. I looked back at the mage, noting how his breathing was finally starting to even out from its earlier, tearing inhales. He was better, certainly, so why was Alice quieting me?


    The answer came soon enough. The man''s breathing was slowing, yes. But it continued to slow. More and more, almost at too fast a rate. I stood still, some part of me still not understanding, as the man I thought Alice had saved gradually died, his breaths leaving him.


    And my wife didn''t move. Even as this person¡ªlaid out on a surgical table and underneath her care¡ªslowly succumbed to something I didn''t understand, Alice just¡­ watched, her lips pursed and her focus unrelenting.


    "What''s wrong with him?" I asked quietly, feeling the weight of it all suppressing my usual optimism. That poisoned arrowhead hissed in the background, as if laughing as its victim slowly died. "His wounds are cleared. The poison is gone."


    Alice slowly shook her head, her expression one of quiet determination and solemnity. It was something I had grown used to these past few weeks as I helped her with her work. "We''ve helped a lot of people so far, Rey, but¡­ There are some whose fight isn''t all in the cells and antibodies or whatever this otherworld knowledge Arthur brought the Academy is," she said. Her eyes traced over the victim''s body slowly. "We can heal their body, but they still need to fight for it.


    "They can''t always fight it, Rey," she said, her hands clenching on her apron. "Sometimes, the flesh is strong, but there is nothing left to fuel it."


    Alice''s words made me think of Arthur. It made me think of my boy, who used himself as kindling to keep us all safe in a distant castle. I could see my boy here, dying of a wound he no longer had the strength to fight. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    I stood still by the side, watching as this soldier¡ªwhose body was in perfect health¡ªfinally exhaled a last breath. His sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling. I thought he looked peaceful.


    Alice''s shoulders slumped for a moment as she closed her eyes, hanging her head. I wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder as we stared down at the man who had no fight left in him.


    I need to be strong for her, I told myself, but something about my words felt hollow. Ever since I''d seen what Arthur was struggling against, it was harder to force myself to be the unwavering pillar I needed to be.


    Alice pushed herself away from me a heartbeat later, her back straightening as she allowed the air to infuse her with strength again. For all that the man on the table had been unable to continue, my wife was still strong.


    "We need to see to the next patient," she said, her unease and stress nestled in some dark corner of her voice. "I''ll call the coroner to see to this man''s body."


    "I can do that," I said immediately. "You''ve done nothing but use your mana all day so far, Alice. Take a minute to meditate, honey, please. Regain a bit more of your strength."


    My wife looked at me, her brows still set in that perpetual furrow. I met her beautiful brown eyes, trying to tell her that I was still here. Her rigid brow finally cracked, like a mountain evened out under the pressure of the sky.


    She smiled slightly, her arm lingering on my sleeves. "Thank you, Rey," she said. "I don''t know what I''d do without you."


    I forced a smile onto my face. Alice had always said my smiles made me look a little "boyish," but I didn''t think that was a bad thing. "Sure thing, Allie."


    I turned around, looking toward the communication scroll sprawled out on a distant desk of my wife''s surgery room. I plodded toward it, taking off my gloves as I prepared to write a quick note to the rest of the medical staff.


    These past few weeks had moved nearly faster than I could keep up with. Xyrus Academy was staffed to the brim with researchers appointed by my son, each of them filtering through strange knowledge and theories he had dropped into their laps to research and study.


    Germ theory, magnetic waves, electricity¡­ So much of it was just heaped onto the backs of the researchers here, mainly in an effort to reinforce medical knowledge. The reports said it was sparse and disconnected information Arthur had gained from the asura in Epheotus, but Alice and I knew better.


    I''ll need to wash my hands after I write this letter, I reminded myself again. Basic hygiene was always expected, but the level of stress put on washing hands¡ªeven for battlefield medics¡ªwas something a bit new. Helps kill the germs. Or bacteria?


    It was hard to keep track of everything. Alice was attending classes and working with the researchers here as they investigated medical practices, but most of it went over my head. Yet the results had been astounding.


    All because of Arthur. All because of the man I called my son, using himself as¡ª


    I shut my eyes tight, banishing my downward-spiraling thoughts. I grasped the countertop before the parchment, my fingers digging into the wood. The rain from the thunderstorm outside slapped the roof of the building, each individual pitter-patter entrenching themselves in my skull.


    Some part of me still wished Arthur had never told us about his past life. Some part of me wished that we could live in that bliss, without all the complications and questions. By the asura, it was so much simpler back then.


    If Arthur hadn''t told us, would he have taken that step forward? Would he have risked the crown on his head? Would this war already be lost?


    I sighed, then banished each of those nagging thoughts as best I could. I couldn''t do anything about¡ª


    I was cut off by a scream. Alice''s horrified scream scythed through the mute silence, attacking my ears with its urgency.


    I whirled on my feet, calling on my mana before I had even truly registered the sound. With my senses heightened by that terrible energy, I was able to spot what had caused my wife such distress with startling clarity.


    The corpse of her patient was moving again. Its eyes were wide open, the pupils still empty and emotionless. The skin seemed to stretch as it shifted, its arm grasping my wife''s wrist with crushing strength.


    My first thought was that this man hadn''t died, but barely pulled back from the brink. He had resurged from the depths of wherever death had drawn him, pulled on by the earnesty of Alice''s care and intent.


    The second thought¡ªas those hollow, too-black eyes stared at Alice as she whimpered in pain, unable to escape its grip¡ªwas that something else had come to inhabit this man''s corpse. The poor soul my wife had tried to save was still locked away in the afterlife, long since having relinquished his life.


    Because those empty, beady eyes were not human anymore. The pale white of its flesh was too grotesque, too rigid for anything with flowing blood.


    I was moving in that split instant of seeing the woman I loved in danger. I reached her in a heartbeat, putting myself between her and the thing on the table. With a mage''s speed, I gripped the wrist holding Alice''s, crushing it beneath superhuman strength.


    The fact that the creature didn''t scream or make a single noise only confirmed my suspicions.


    "Get your hand off my wife," I growled, before my fist slammed into its face.


    The thing went hurtling into the far wall, its neck twisting with a sickening crack. Even as the bones in its face crunched from my fist and the wall shuddered from the force of its impact, it remained silent.


    And even with its head twisted too far around and the jaw clearly dislocated, this thing that used to be a man didn''t even seem dazed. It began to slowly pick itself up from the floor, all rigid limbs and rickety bones. Those empty eyes stared at me at a sixty-degree angle, an utter abyss within.


    "Get behind me, Alice," I said, determination and fear for my family putting me into a familiar fistfighting stance. I didn''t have my gauntlets, but that didn''t matter. "I''ll have to put this thing down quickly."


    She didn''t waste a breath. As the healer of the Twin Horns adventuring party, she had faced countless dangers. Her earlier surprise and terror at being gripped washed away as put herself behind my broad back. "It just started moving," she said quickly, her voice slightly panicked. "It''s not¡­ I can sense something strange from it, Rey. Like a healer''s magic, but wrong."


    I ground my teeth as the living corpse slowly straightened. Though it moved with utter rigidity, the head didn''t ever seem to bob or shift as it stared at me with a broken neck. They stayed unnaturally still as the thing kept a distance, the operating table between us.


    Within my head, I was already calling on my experience as the leader of an adventuring party to create a plan of attack. I would kick the table forward toward the creature. It would either take the attack head-on, or try and weave left or right, but with how jerky its movements were, it would¡ª


    But then it opened its mouth, and it spoke.


    "Reynolds," came a familiar voice. "It''s been a while, eh?"


    My blood froze in my veins. Hairs along the back of my neck tingled with the malevolence in that voice, and my face drained of color.


    Adam''s voice. This thing was using Adam''s voice. Adam, who had died in the dungeons months ago.


    A mix of horror and revulsion welled up within me as the thing continued to speak. Its jaw didn''t even shift. In fact, the sound just seemed to drift like a curse from its throat. "What in the¡ª"


    Someone else burst through the back door of the clinician''s room. Albold Chaffer was covered in sweat as he gripped his spear, but the young elf moved like the wind. Before I could even question what had happened, or why the corpse across from us had spoken with Adam''s voice, he was on it.


    His spear pierced the undead creature''s chest, erupting out the back in a spray of blood. I slowly lowered my gauntlets, staring at the wound. The undead thing didn''t even make a sound as it collapsed, whatever magic that had animated it evaporating.


    "The core," Albold said, his gray eyes wide. The young elf¡ªwhose senses were beyond uncanny¡ªdrew his spear from the creature''s sternum. It slumped to the ground, the wound not even pumping blood. "You need to destroy the core."


    There was a sort of manic frenzy infusing every inch of the young soldier as he turned to look at us. "Are you alright, Lord and Lady Leywin? I came as soon as the fires started."


    I spared a glance at the thing that used to be one of my wife''s patients. "Yeah, we''re good, son. What in the hells is going on? And what do you mean, fires?"


    Albold had been assigned by Arthur to be a part of our protection, alongside the wayward Elder Camus Selaridon. If he was here, then that meant that something had gone wrong. Were we being attacked? Targeted for something? Targeted for being Arthur''s family?


    The young elf shook his head, his short-cropped blonde hair swaying. "My senses are good. Eerily good. But I sensed a change in the ambient mana a few minutes ago, and it''s only begun to swell." The elf kicked the corpse near him, sending it tumbling to the corner and away from his boots. "And the dead rising in the clinics¡­ It''s a marker. I read reports of a Scythe that could do this."


    I shared a worried look with Alice, who still stood nervously behind me. "Where is Elder Camus?" I asked, trying to find a course of action. It was something that was ingrained in me since the early days of leading the Twin Horns. Helen had said it was annoying sometimes, but there were more than a few times we would have died without being thoroughly prepared. Adam had called me an annoying asshole, but he hadn''t pressed the matter. "If there''s a Scythe here, in Xyrus, then we need to inform the Council. The Lances need to respond!"


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    "I have already sent emergency missives to the Council," a familiar voice echoed behind me like an autumn breeze. "Reinforcements should be here shortly."


    I turned, clenching my fists as Elder Camus strode into the room. The older elf''s long, blonde hair was tied into a ponytail that swayed on unseen currents of wind. His bangs shadowed his eyes, underneath which I knew he was blind. His robes were covered in blood.


    "I just intercepted a squad of Alacryan mages that were trying vainly to break into this room," he said with mild disdain. "They failed in their mission, but that doesn''t mean there won''t be more."


    Considering the splatters of blood across Elder Camus'' robes¡ªnone of it his¡ªit was quite clear what he meant when he said they''d failed.


    "Then there will be more of these¡­ undead?" Alice asked from behind me, her voice overtaken with horror. "What will we do?"


    Elder Camus turned to look in her general direction. The silver core mage tended to ''look'' at people when they spoke, even though he couldn''t see. He''d told me once that he''d learned it put people more at ease. "Your son has plans and protocols in place in case of attacks on your persons," he said calmly, gliding closer. "Quite impressive plans, to be honest. But right now, that means we need to get to somewhere more fortified so you can be protected and the situation can be addressed."


    I ground my teeth, feeling like a bear held in a cage. Ever since Adam''s death, I''d wanted to do something to make it worthwhile. Something to honor my friend, who I''d fought and battled beside for years in the Beast Glades. But with every second I spent in Xyrus'' walls, confined by my apparent station as "Lord Leywin," the more it seemed the only way I could contribute to this war was by staying out of everyone''s way.


    I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding like boulders across a mountainside. No. That was the wrong way to think. Right now, I needed to trust Arthur as one trusted their leader. I needed to trust my son that he would see us through with whatever plans he had. And besides, it wasn''t just me who was endangered. It was Alice, too.


    "Okay," I said tiredly, "What plans did Art have for¡ª"


    The ground started to shake. It wasn''t the sort of shaking that came from a true earthquake. I''d felt those before. After all, Ashber was along a minor faultline up north. But we were on a flying city, hovering in the sky. There were no earthquakes.


    No¡­ this was more like¡ª


    "We move," Elder Camus said sharply, his mana flaring around him as wind whipped at his robes. "I will escort you all to the teleportation gates. Follow me now."


    He didn''t give us a moment to contemplate. Instead, he simply swept out of the room with the refined grace of a man who had seen too much war. The shaking continued as Albold took up the rear, his grip white on his staff.


    Making a split-second decision, I scooped Alice up into my arms, holding her close as I empowered my body with mana. My wife didn''t make a sound, biting her lip nervously as she wrapped her arms around my neck like a ship''s anchor.


    I ran after Elder Camus, who kept a steady pace through Xyrus'' halls. I kept my senses spread as far as possible, but it was hard to notice anything past the distant thunderstorm and rumbling beneath my boots.


    It took me a few seconds of weaving through the halls, past disorganized researchers and shouting guards, to realize that the crackling lightning I''d been hearing wasn''t part of the thunderstorm. In fact, there was so much more sound cascading alongside the rain, drowned out by the tempest''s fury.


    I hadn''t been able to tell deep in the compounds of the academy. But this close to the windows, which streamed with early autumn rain, I could see flashes of light and thunderous noise that wasn''t from the distant storm.


    Xyrus Academy was under attack.


    "Camus!" I roared, darting past a slow platoon of Xyrus guards as they rushed toward the exit to join whatever battle was raging outside. "What about the academy? It''s under attack! It needs to be defended!"


    The old elf flowed through the crowds like a leaf on the wind. I knew that he ''saw'' using the currents of wind all around him, but the grace in his actions was something that never failed to astonish me. "Then that is the job of the defenders," he said harshly. "Your safety is my priority. Nothing more!"


    "Then where are we going?!" I demanded, my heart pounding in my chest. I vaulted over a trophy case that had fallen, and Albold trailed behind in a flurry of wind. "This is bigger than just an assassination attempt!"


    "Don''t worry, Reynolds," the old elf said, "there are plans to¡ª"


    Something smashed through one of the walls. It was moving so fast and so dark that I hadn''t even been able to comprehend what happened, but Elder Camus was in front of me. A dozen streams of redirecting wind pushed away rubble and debris as they came close to taking off my head. The old mage moved with supernatural grace, the air bending to his whims as he kept us safe.


    But as the dust cleared, terror surged from the depths of my soul. Because I could see what had torn its way through the walls, allowing rain to hammer the stones and soak the priceless tapestries adorning Xyrus Academy''s walls.


    I took a step back, my teeth clenched and my eyes wide.


    Adam stared at me, his spear held leisurely in his hand. A horrid wound ran from his waist to his shoulder, but it didn''t bleed. His eyes glinted malevolently as the red-haired mage¡ªwho I had once called one of my greatest friends¡ªabsently twirled his weapon.


    "Been a long time, Rey," the cocky man said, twirling his spear. "Seems a bit of a poor time for reunion, but better late than never."


    My legs trembled as my vision swam. In my arms, Alice stared in horror at the figure. She shook like a leaf, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Lensa?" she whispered with utter horror.


    I didn''t hear her, not really. Adam shouldn''t be here. We''d buried him back in Xyrus. Buried him and mourned for him. And now he was¡ª


    "You know, you always thought that you were the best of the Twin Horns," Adam said leisurely, twirling his spear. The gaping wound along his armored chest opened and closed grotesquely as he hopped from the mound of rubble he''d created. "That''s why you became our great leader. But you really, really didn''t think too much about it, did you? You didn''t really think about how it would affect me."


    "Shut up," I said, instinctively turning, trying to shelter Alice from this monster. "You''re not Adam. You''re a lie. A figment of my mind."


    Adam threw back his head and laughed. It was Adam''s laugh. The exact laugh that he''d always had that carried us through battles in the aftermath, entrenched in my memory as deeply as anything else.


    "Maybe I am," the thing said, prowling back and forth like a caged world lion, waiting to be set free. It stood in the hallway between us and freedom, and something in the ambient mana told me that turning and running¡­ That would only lead to despair. If I took my eyes off this predator, it would sink its teeth into my neck and tear. "Ask good old Allie what she thinks, though. She knows the truth."


    Alice wasn''t speaking, just trembling. She stared at the figure, wincing as if slapped in every heartbeat. She seemed to shrink further and further in on herself with every word.


    Lensa. My wife had said Lensa. The name of the woman whose death changed her life as an emitter.


    "Cover your ears, Alice," I said hastily, worry for my wife overriding my sense of self-preservation. "It''s trying to get inside your head! It''s taking from your mind somehow! Don''t let it!"


    I took another fearful step backward, angling Alice away from the figure, hoping whatever nightmare she saw was kinder than this mockery of Adam. I was hardly aware that Albold had fallen back, too, shaking like a leaf as his eyes were blown wide.


    Only Elder Camus stood between us. He didn''t shake, but there was a looseness to his robes that unnerved me. "Scythe," he said slowly, shifting into a combat stance. "I''ve heard of you. Viessa Vritra. The Necromancer."


    A Scythe. The ominous presence that I could just barely sense lingering on the edges of my perception sharpened, then ran cold fingers along the back of my neck. My eyes darted everywhere as I tried to think of a way to escape.


    Adam tilted his head, looking down his nose at the old elf. "Such a pity that you''re blind, Camus Selaridon," the voice said in a distinctly un-Adam way. "If you could just open your eyes, you would see your wife again. I''m certain you''ll recognize her touch as I tear out your core."


    Camus shivered, his body visibly trembling. "Run," he said quietly. "Run, as fast as you can, and don''t look back. I''ll hold this witch off. She wants to play with her food. You''ll get a head start."


    Lightning bolts flashed outside. Once, twice, and then a third time. Adam threw back his head, laughing darkly. His broken flesh twisted and contorted unnaturally, sending waves of nausea through me. "You have no idea, Selaridon!" the thing said. "It has been so long since I have enjoyed myself! I am going to take my time pulling your mind apart. I cannot wait to dissect everything that makes you writhe."


    I raised a hand, preparing myself to do something. To fight or flee, I did not know, but this laughing madman wearing the skin of one of my oldest friends wouldn''t take me. It wouldn''t take my wife.


    The mad laughter was interrupted, however, when something green and silver streaked through the opening on the rooftops.


    It happened far, far too fast for my orange-core senses to comprehend. One moment there was a creature atop a pile of rubble, wearing the skin of my old friend. The next, a dozen explosions and sounds of spellfire rumbled through the small space. On pure instinct, I knelt, conjuring a slight wall of earth to brace against the torrent of energy and movement not far beyond.


    And then it was silent again, nearly as fast as the noise had come. I let out a terrified breath, holding Alice close. We clung to each other like drowned dogs, unable to speak for the power lingering in the air. That strange, foggy presence in my mind that was scouring and seeking seemed to evaporate, drifting into the winds as something else drew its attention. And through the scent of ozone and lingering lightning, I could smell¡­


    Roses?


    I cautiously peered over my makeshift barrier, scrutinizing the aftermath. I blinked in surprise as a familiar, silver figure stood in place of the makeshift Adam, her wet, luminously green hair clinging to her back. The woman''s majestic uniform was covered in cuts, and blood streamed across nearly every inch. I thought I saw lightning burns spiraling outward from her exposed left shoulder, but she didn''t even seem to notice.


    Tessia Eralith stood alone on the mound of rubble, a swordstaff in hand like the leader of a conquering army. Vines shifted around her, each exhaling vapor that danced between her limbs like cautious fairies. She looked like she''d been through the fight of her life a few minutes ago, but her breathing was steady and her posture was more than alert.


    As I stared up at the Lance who had just barely arrived in time, only one thought managed to work through the surprise.


    Arthur, you better be a damn good husband one day. Because if you don''t, I''ll find a way to kick your ass myself for being an imbecile.


    Tessia Eralith spat a wad of blood onto the ground, her teeth grinding. She spared us only a glance as she remained on top of that pile of rubble, poised like a dancer at the end of their routine. "Mister and Missus Leywin," she said with a breath of slight exhaustion, "it''s good you''re safe. Though I''m not sure whether that''s going to remain the case."


    I finally managed to work through the blockage in my throat. "The Scythe," I said, my voice irritatingly hoarse, "where is she? Is she dead?"


    Tessia didn''t spare me anything beyond a flick of her unsettlingly green eyes, before she returned to observing the air around us. "Viessa''s still here. Watching and waiting," she said quietly, those eyes darting around and about. "She wants both of you. That''s her goal, which means I won''t let her."


    Tessia slowly walked down the pile of rubble, and for a moment I was afraid that this was another trick or illusion. The verdant runes that cascaded under her eyes might be a little too green, or maybe too bright. It could all be another trick of the venomous Scythe.


    The young woman halted a short way away from us, the vines around her leaking water vapor. She probably saw my wary hesitance, but she didn''t show it. "The teleportation gates aren''t safe." Tessia ground her teeth, her eyes darting to the distance, then back again. "I was keeping an eye on a traitor before this, but they made their move too quickly and slipped from my grasp. They''re holding the gates now, and I have no idea what they''re going to do. But I need to get you out of here. That''s my priority."


    I locked eyes with the elven princess for a moment, and I thought I understood why she and my son were so close. They were alike in that annoyingly familiar desire to protect those they cared for.


    "Lance Silverthorn," Elder Camus said sharply, "how do you expect to get the Leywins out of Xyrus? If the asura-forsaken gates are held by the Alacryans, then the priority should be breaking their hold."


    Tessia''s fist clenched, and she shot the elder a slightly irritated glance. "I am not only here, Elder," she said, her voice straining to remain respectful. "But the priority of the Alacryans is Art''s family. That means that I can''t risk your capture, either. The Xyrus teleportation gates aren''t universal gateways like Zestier''s. They can only let people in, not be coded to connect to any others."


    I forced myself to remain calm. Xyrus'' teleportation gates could be shut off from the flying castle to prevent the widespread proliferation of Alacryan troops across the continent. It wasn''t the absolute end of the world.


    Then her ears twitched, and her head perked up. She looked about, her head focusing south. "And Arthur will be here soon, too. He''s cleaning up some old business, and I''m quite sure negotiations just broke."


    Lightning continued to flash overhead.


    "Art will be here soon?" Alice asked, seeming to gather herself more. I gently set her down, both of us savoring this moment. "What''s happening, Tessia? It''s all just moving too fast."


    Tessia''s lips pursed as she looked at Alice. I saw compassion welling up along the nestled edges of her expression. "Oh, Missus Leywin, you are far from alone in that." The princess shook her head. "But right now, we can get you two to safety. Art would never forgive himself if you two got hurt."


    Alice actually chuckled a bit at that, the mention of the one man that tied us all together setting my shoulders at ease.


    "There''s a safe house not far away that is easier to defend," Tessia started, her strangely green hair shifting as if it were almost alive. "If I take you there, then it would be easier for Elder Camus to¡ª"


    Tess'' head snapped to the side, her eyes widening in alarm. I didn''t sense anything, but the way the princess went suddenly rigid, like a tree frozen in time, made my slowly waning terror return all at once. "No¡­ That can''t be possible," she whispered. "I imbued that sliver of Willow with enough power to fight any of the Lances over months. How could it just be¡­ in one strike?"


    Her head whipped back to us, and this time it was hardened by worry and determination. "We need to move. Now. No time for slowing down."


    "What just happened?" I asked, already scooping up my poor wife again. My heart ran like a thousand stallions stampeding in my chest for a reason I couldn''t define. The thunderstorm seemed to go suddenly silent, and that sense of dread returned tenfold. "What''s changed, Tessia?"


    She didn''t even give us the time to react. Vines spread from her, each as thick as the mightiest oak, and snatched me, Alice, and Albold from the ground. Her voice changed, losing its friendly flow and becoming something hardened and warformed. "Captain Chaffer, I need your senses on the skies. If you sense anything amiss, no matter what it is, you will tell me.


    "And Elder Camus, keep your focus on the winds. I thought I had more time, but things have just changed. Same orders as Captain Chaffer. Cover my back. You''re more in touch with the subtleties of the wind than I am."


    Albold managed to cough out a stuttered "Yes, ma''am," in between his surprised gasp from being hauled up by a stream of vines. Elder Camus drifted forward, his wrinkles deepening.


    "What is happening, Lance Silverthorn?" The old wind mage echoed my previous question, naturally drifting to the princess'' side. The unflappable elf seemed to finally show a hint of fear.


    Her eyes flickered with emerald light, the ambient mana warping slightly as she glared east. "I left a present behind to try and keep the traitor occupied until I was done rescuing all of you," she said, her swordstaff glistening in the rain. "But that assurance was just removed. Which means that every single invading Alacryan¡ªand the traitors, too¡ªwill soon only have us as targets."

 Chapter 307 305: Thundercrack

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThrreads!


    Tessia Eralith


    One of the things that Grandpa had always told me ever since I''d been young was that I could never count on a plan.


    The image of him from years back¡ªwhen he didn''t have so many stress-carved wrinkles across his face and trenches of corruption turning his veins black¡ªsurfaced in my mind. I could see him crouching in front of me as I complained about how Arthur always managed to do better than me in sparring. On that particular day, I''d thrown my usual tantrum, and I''d been pouting in a corner of Elenoir''s palace.


    When Grandpa had found me, his eyes had melted in the way they always did whenever he saw me. I''d lamented that day, furious and angry that Arthur had managed to beat me again. I''d been training and trying so hard. I couldn''t understand why he was just better.


    In his caring, grandfatherly way, Grandpa had explained to me something simple. "Art plans ahead, my little rascal," he''d said. "To a terrifying degree, mind you. Don''t try and think like that little monster. It''s enough to drive me crazy sometimes, those battle instincts of his."


    "But I plan, too!" I''d complained. "I wanted to attack his shins, then break his stance! But that didn''t work!"


    Grandpa had only chuckled, his wizened hand ruffling my silver hair. "And once Arthur realized that, he adapted. Remember, little one: no plan survives contact with an opponent."


    Plan plan plan, Willow whispered, coiled in my core as I kept my Second Phase engaged, survive.


    When the thunder crashed again, the rain clinging to my face, I resisted the urge to curse. It was a comfort that I''d reached Art''s parents in time, and that they were safely in the clutches of my vines. But as I hauled them through the shattered halls of Xyrus Academy¡ªonce so familiar to me¡ªI knew it was a shallow relief.


    No plan survived contact with the enemy. Not even the one I''d concocted with Arthur.


    Art was currently enacting the side of the plan that would see Scythe Nico dealt with. I knew he would succeed, even if meeting his old friend would be a struggle. He had to succeed, to ensure that the Legacy would never descend.


    But I had already failed. That plan had not survived contact with the enemy.


    Arthur and I had both suspected Bairon Wykes of being a traitor to Dicathen. That was why he was positioned on the westernmost battlefield alongside Mica Earthborn, the furthest from the truly critical fronts. It was also why I had lain in wait, ready to drive my swordstaff through the arrogant Wykes'' chest if he did something unwise.


    The arrival of the red-haired Retainer had thrown everything into disarray. Bairon had met her secretly, holding one of those tempus warps. I''d realized then and there that I wouldn''t get a better chance to put the traitor down. As Mica and Olfred had their clash in the background, I''d made to finish this.


    Except I''d failed in the killshot. Bairon was too fast, and he''d managed to get through a summoned portal before I could drive my weapon through his core. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And when I''d realized I was in Xyrus, where Art''s parents were, I''d left the last and most powerful Seed I had in reserve, leaving it to keep Bairon and that Retainer busy.


    The Seeds were something new I''d discovered the ability to create in the wake of my ascension to Lance. With guiding help from Willow, I could separate a sliver of her essence into a corded bundle of nature magic. As I''d trained with Aya in the depths of Elshire, I''d gradually imbued these slivers with more and more energy, nurturing them as one did a flower with sunlight and water.


    And the one that had just been slain was granted a death so brutal and abruptly violent that I knew it could not have been done by Bairon or that Retainer.


    "Hold on to the vines," I said to my charges, vaulting through an opening in the broken walls. "This is going to get rough."


    Reynolds had enough sense to grip the vines ensorcelling him. He shouted something to Alice, who was doing her best not to vomit from the constant back and forth of the swaying vines. I didn''t think she could hear it. Albold''s eyes were peeled, his Chaffer senses on high alert as he scanned our surroundings. Elder Camus had managed to keep up with us so far, but I was about to put on the speed.


    Smoke rose all around into the rainstorm as I emerged from the battered body of Xyrus Academy. Rain slapped me in the face with a million tiny blows, splattering in a failed attempt to seep into my bones. I struggled to see past the curtain of constant, angry raindrops. The cold gripped me nearly instantly as I emerged into the downpour. For a split instant, I wondered if this was what the Academy looked like when the Alacryans had attacked it before.


    All across the grounds, mages darted about in a mix of confusion and order. Between and around them, mana beasts attacked students, professors, and soldiers alike. They were put down with the brutal efficiency of those familiar with war. And when the dead rose again, the soldiers tore out their mana cores without a second thought.


    These were soldiers who had lived through the Days of Massacre all across Sapin''s plains. They knew how to fight beasts and how to protect those under their care.


    I exhaled a breath, feeling my mana flowing beneath my skin. Willow''s presence was a smooth balm that helped me focus on what I needed to do. Even if the attack on Xyrus¡ªwhile initially surprising and devastating¡ªwas being repelled now, the students and soldiers below were unequipped for what was coming.


    Staring down, I saw a young elven girl using her magic to pull water from the rain, before redirecting it to douse a fire. Her choppy blonde hair was cut short, framing a face carved of determination and fear both. She snapped out some orders to students around her.


    They''ll be coming for me, I thought, grinding my teeth. I couldn''t sense Viessa Vritra, enmeshed as she was in the howling wind, but I knew she was there, watching me. I thought I could smell her blood. They''ll be coming for Art''s parents, too.


    Lightning crackled in the distance, and I knew I was running out of time.


    I shot through the sky, vaulting toward the gilded gates of Xyrus Academy. I could hear vague shouts of awe and fear as verdant green vines grew around me, each tendril latching onto the shimmering bars of metal.


    I didn''t need to guide my spells, at least not fully. Willow followed my desires, the helpful speck of mist in my mind guiding the automatic defenses of my Second Phase. With a simple tug of the sturdy vines, my charges and I were vaulting over the towering barrier.


    I kept my senses peeled as I tapped down on the soaked cobblestones outside, internally apologizing to Art''s mother as she audibly struggled to resist vomiting. She clearly wasn''t used to such high-speed maneuvering, and it was only going to get worse.


    In that split instant as my legs bent, preparing to hurtle me through the winding streets of Xyrus, I observed my surroundings. Outside of the Academy, the city appeared deceptively calm. Most citizens of the floating bastion kept inside, hoping to avoid the soaking downpour. Those that were outside seemed utterly oblivious to the doom that was close to their throats.


    My vines hauled me through the streets, a dozen tendrils sinking through the cobbles and walls of nearby buildings as I moved. The silver blossoms on every verdant vine breathed out swaths of vapor that meshed with the thunderstorm, obscuring the city and cloaking our path.


    I wasn''t sure it would truly work, but I was confident the constant cloak of Elshire Mist would help to obstruct Viessa Vritra''s seeking magic from messing with Alice, Reynolds, and Albold. As that spell slowly spread, it would also obscure the citizens and soldiers of the city from any wayward attackers.


    The Alacryans aren''t fielding an army, just a few select strike forces, I thought, weaving through the streets as I kept the three close to me in clutching plant matter. I spared a glance to the side as I pumped my arms, noting Elder Camus as he balanced on my vines, the wind mage allowing them to pull us forward.


    I was just beginning to formulate a plan¡ªone that might just see us through this attack¡ªwhen Albold''s eyes widened. "The left!" he said quickly. "The left, the left! Something''s coming!"


    Almost as if to corroborate his terrified words, Art''s mom vomited from a mixture of motion sickness and something else, trembling in the rain.


    My hair stood on end despite the water soaking it, and the scent of ozone struck my nose. The barest hint of a familiar mana signature brushed against my senses.


    One of the nearby buildings simply exploded. Something massive and dark, reflective in the storm, gored its way through a dozen tons of iron, stone, and wood. A blade longer and sharper than any spear erupted from its forehead as six legs slammed into the cobblestones with pulverizing force. Every inch of the massive mana beast was armored with thick, impenetrable plates the color of obsidian.


    I was reminded of the massive steam trains that Gideon was pioneering as the undead S-class mana beast charged silently toward me from barely a dozen feet away, its metallic hide gleaming. The sheer amount of noise it made with each footfall was enough to put landslides and earthquakes to shame.


    I redirected my forward course, water splashing as I lurched to the left. My stomach somersaulted as I snapped in a near-ninety-degree shift in momentum. I snapped out with a vine at the last moment, hauling Elder Camus along as the sky brightened for a moment. Art''s dad yelled in sudden fear as we surged toward the charging undead rhinoran, the gleaming point poised to tear me in half.


    Vines erupted from below the rhinoran, creating an ever-so-slightly elevated ramp as it continued on its charge. The massive beast, unable to adjust its course as the ground rose at a sharp angle, soared through the sky without making a sound. At the same time, I ducked low, pulling all four of my charges close as I skated beneath the titan.


    The sky flashed bright, and lightning arced down from on high.


    Each arcing tendril of the thunderbolt was wider than a tree trunk as they surged for me like a spear, every gathered ounce of voltaic anger condensed with the power of a white core. Yet instead of striking me and my charges, that lightning predictably arced toward the closest source of metal.


    I got a perfect view of the failed attack as I slid in slow motion beneath my makeshift shield. Yellow-gold electricity danced over every inch of the rhinoran''s form, and if it hadn''t been dead before, I was certain the sheer voltage running through its flesh would have finished the job anyway.


    The rhinoran tumbled across the street, before slamming into a building, its legs thrashing and twitching as the electricity ignited its nerves.


    "Eralith!" a voice boomed over the storm, a luminous figure visible against the reflectionless gray clouds. "Fight me!"


    I slid through the shattered building the rhinoran had emerged from, just barely avoiding a torrent of decaying black wind that tore the life from my vines. Viessa. She was watching, toying with me. But she wasn''t the most prevalent threat.


    I could feel my foe approaching like one could smell an approaching thunderstorm. I built up my mana, coalescing the energy from my core, before forcing all the vines I could spare to curl inward.


    I spun around as I entered the buildings, coming nearly face-to-face with my enemy.


    Bairon Wykes was alight with raw lightning, each tendril sparking off his pale blonde hair. His eyes glowed with otherworldly light as his tattered Lance uniform streamed with blood. I could see light glowing from behind his clenched teeth. The raw fury in his eyes as he focused not just on me, but on Art''s family, was something I wouldn''t soon forget. His electrified fingers inched closer and closer, nearly enough to touch one of my vines¡­


    I released my spell.


    A vine larger than a house surged from beneath us, belching obscuring mist to the rainy sky. The vine tagged Bairon''s foot, wrapping around it and snapping taut as it anchored him to the street. He snarled as all the built-up lightning that he was planning to imbue into me was instead grounded by the conductive vine.


    The massive green tendril sizzled and smoked as absurd currents ran along its length, and I could sense it charing away. But it had bought me time.


    I flowed through the buildings, smashing through homely walls and business storefronts as I tore my way toward some sort of safety. Behind me, Bairon''s furious snarl echoed in tune with the rolling drums of the sky.


    "Bairon?" I heard Reynolds Leywin sputter in fear. "Lance Wykes just tried¡­ He just tried to kill us!"


    A sardonic smirk pulled at the edges of my lips as I continued on my tumultuous passage. "What, did Art not tell you? That man''s wanted to kill you all for a long time."


    That earned a curse from Art''s dad, his fingers digging into the vines.


    The joke wasn''t exactly in good taste, but it helped to center me as I focused on the plan building in the back of my head. "Hold on tight. Things are about to get a lot rougher."


    Bairon will trail from behind, probably from the sky, I thought quickly, struggling to think over the pounding in my skull. He''s in his element in the thunderstorm. Close quarters don''t serve him well, and I can ground his attacks with my vines if need be. Which means that I can''t be under the open sky.


    Operating on barely an idea, I emerged into the open street. The water from the thunderstorm flowed along cunningly constructed pathways, before draining into designated sewers. I gave that a moment of thought as an option, before knowledge of toxic, flammable sewer gasses immediately waived that away as a choice.


    "Sound magic, from the right," Elder Camus said sharply, twisting slightly where I held him with a vine.


    I whirled, lashing out with my swordstaff on instinct. A gust of wind trailed toward the direction Elder Camus indicated, but instead of striking something, I felt my attack¡­ dissolve. The mana particles met some sort of vibrating resistance, before melting away.


    I resisted the urge to curse as I caught a glimpse of the Retainer with red hair again, running toward me with Scythes of dark void wind swirling about her. Behind me, I could hear the rhinoran charging again, and I thought I could sense more attacks building from Viessa somewhere.


    Lightning arced down from the heavens, and only hastily conjured vines rising above me in a careful cage redirected the energy into the ground. But with each voltaic bolt, the searching fractals got closer and closer to the people I was trying to protect. The vines rose slower and slower, faltering in the face of the storm as a domain of writhing green and silver protected us all from certain doom.


    Then the Retainer reached me. I conjured a gale of wind beneath her feet, trying to disrupt her balance, but that strange sound magic of hers was able to disassemble my spell with exceptional speed.


    "Lance Silverthorn," she said, her voice smooth as a knife between the ribs as she maneuvered in close. "You''ve been more than a pain in our side."


    I ground my teeth, aware of the charging rhinoran about to emerge from the building behind me. "Well, I''ve never had the opportunity to meet you," I said, countering a few blades of void wind that the Retainer sent my way with swipes of my swordstaff. The glimmering green motes of celestial emerald nature magic clashed with dark Vritra taint, both writing about each other before becoming nothing at all. With as much speed as I could manage, I shifted my charges behind me, preparing to face this errant Retainer.


    "That will change soon," the woman said smoothly. "My name is Lyra Dreide, Retainer to Cadell Vritra."


    And then she was on me. I deflected one of her arcs of void wind high, before feinting with a thrust toward her core. My mana and beast will guided me on, tendrils of effervescent green rising of their own accord to protect me from all sides.


    The Retainer wasn''t fazed by my attack. She used some sort of barrier magic to deflect the sharp edge of my bladed staff, before lunging with fingers outstretched for my throat.


    A vine¡ªbarely as wide around as my wrist¡ªsnaked up from the wet ground, nearly invisible. It cinched itself around Lyra Dreide''s ankle, the thorns digging in and drawing rivulets of blood.


    Her halted momentum made her lurch, her eyes widening. At the same moment, I brought my knee up, aiming for her suddenly outstretched jaw.


    But as a bolt of lightning finally broke through my dome of writhing, protective vines, arcing like the fingers of an angry god toward my huddled charges, I realized that I needed to change tactics.


    I snarled from the depths of my soul as I grabbed Lyra Dreide''s outstretched arm, before hurling her toward the lightning bolt. As she went, she twisted with supernatural deftness, sending out tiny, paper-thin arcs of decaying wind that opened up a dozen painful cuts along my uniform. One of them carved an arc along my forearm, making it harder to grip my swordstaff.


    I retaliated by throwing an absurd amount of mana into my hands, focusing it as I swung my weapon with blood and rain-slick fingers. A torrent of howling fury erupted from me, slamming into the airborne Retainer. Whatever sound magic she had wasn''t enough to fully disperse my attack, especially when Elder Camus added a dose of his own magic from nearby, pulling the woman closer to the target.


    The lightning bolt struck her shields in a flash of yellow light, before my dome of vines hurled her outside of my domain.


    "It''s so fascinating," a voice said, nearly enraptured with glee as it rose from the stones and the air and the stone itself. Viessa Vritra. "You struggle so much. You know you''ll die, Lance Silverthorn. It''s the only logical outcome. But you struggle and struggle, like a poor rose with its petals ripped off."


    There was a demented sort of pleasure that washed through each of Viessa''s words that made me shudder inside as I quickly returned to Elder Camus and Art''s parents. My arm trembled from the cut the Retainer had given me, and I had to fight to keep my fingers tight around my weapon. I felt a tremble of rising fear cut through my resolve, but I couldn''t let it show.


    "It''s this that I love," that voice whispered again, crawling into my ears and tearing apart every good sound that had ever graced them. "The struggle before the end. Oh, how I missed the pleasure. So keep struggling, little rose. I want to see those petals wither."


    The ground shook as the steelhorn rhinoran erupted from the building I''d barely just escaped. And as I stared into the terrified eyes of Arthur''s parents¡ªparents that he''d built this new life of his to protect and shelter¡ªI realized that I had no choice.


    Viessa Vritra watched like a hyena, savoring the smell of blood. Bairon rained a lightning storm on me from above, keeping me trapped in one place and unable to flee. And Lyra Dreide would certainly try to charge me again.


    I could fight any of these cowards one on one. But all of them at once, while protecting people who were as fragile as glass?


    I was going to be overwhelmed if I didn''t do something. If I wanted to try and enact my plan, it needed to be now.


    I growled, exhaling my anger as I drove my swordstaff into the ground beneath my feet. Drawing on the mana in my core, I squeezed the organ like a farmer squeezing a fruit for juice. I felt a painful lurch as I siphoned more and more. On high, the flickering dome of protective vines that blocked out Bairon''s lightning trembled.


    But beyond that, I drew on Willow, weaving her through my magic and Second Phase in the way I was only just now starting to comprehend.


    This is going to hurt, Willow, I thought sadly to the ever-soothing presence in my head. I know you haven''t recovered since the last time you split yourself, but I need you to try. One last time. We just need to buy time.


    I could feel Willow''s slow acceptance of my desperate plea. What I was about to try might cripple us both so soon after her last split. But as the intensity of my beast will brightened in my veins, I knew her decision.


    Hurt hurt hurt, she pressed to me, try try try.


    I exhaled a breath of mist, closing my eyes. I pressed my splayed out hand to the soaked stones beneath me, feeling the heartbeat of the stones as my fingers sank into the soil.


    And then the world changed.


    A surging torrent of vines engulfed all of us. Me, Reynolds, Alice, Albold, Elder Camus¡­ A living forest grew from a single spot, all concentrated into one surge of nature. A tree greater than any yet shown dug roots into the earth, snaking into the reaches of the floating city''s foundations. With silver leaves and patterns of verdant green, the towering monolith was an effigy to the elven people.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    An Elshire Oak¡ªmore powerful and graceful than the countless number amidst the forests of Elenoir¡ªdenied the lightning streaking into it. The bark was solid, stronger than any steel and ready to take on a hurricane and win. No axe could fell the behemoth. No simple spell would see it broken.


    After all, I''d put most of my energy into this singular spell. I''d imbued it with a sliver of Willow herself, granting this towering beacon of bark and leaves more life and vitality than it could have had otherwise. It became more than the sum of its parts, the great titan of wood standing strong against those who wished it ill.


    And captured in its stalwart embrace were Art''s parents, buffeted against the assault from all sides.


    Paint, Willow''s thoughts came as my Beast Will slowly receded. She drifted back into my core, leaving my channels to ache and burn. My hair returned to its normal silver, and the runes beneath my eyes dissipated into emerald motes.


    Deep within the confines of the massive tree, I could feel our enemies struggle to see the structure toppled. Lightning made bark sizzle and crack, before flaking away. Void wind accelerated the death of this embodiment of nature, and the entire tower of wood rumbled with every charge of the steelhorn rhinoran.


    Yet every time the tree was damaged, rain would soak down from the heavens, absorbed by the roots and transferred across the pulsing length. I could feel the ambient mana shift as the roots pulled it in, purifying it in a way I could hardly understand, before using all its resources to repair itself nearly as fast as it was being damaged.


    I had imbued this creation with a single desire, my intent clear as a stormless sky. Protect.


    But as I felt the roots straining against the repeated attacks of the rhinoran, I knew it wouldn''t hold. The combined efforts of three white core mages and an S-class mana beast would see it overwhelmed quickly.


    I didn''t need to breathe within this life-giving construct, but I imagined I took a deep breath anyways. I could feel my core aching slightly, overtaxed and overused. I was so tired.


    You''re going to make it up to me when this is all over, Art, I thought, quickly realizing what I would need to do. I''m going to make you make this up to me.


    I flowed up along the trunk of the tree, the wood parting for me and letting me move like a fish in a stream. As I reached the top of the boughs¡ªthe entire structure shuddering and shaking, the roots straining to stay anchored and not topple over¡ªI prepared myself for the next part.


    I emerged from the canopy of the massive tree like a butterfly from a cocoon. Immediately, I got a glimpse of Bairon''s clenched face as he stared at the tree, his arms crossed. I couldn''t see the Retainer or Scythe anywhere, but it seemed that the traitorous Lance had taken the smart option, saving his mana and watching.


    Our eyes met. I sneered at him. He did the same, electricity crackling around him with the power of a white core mage.


    And then I let the illusion spell I''d been crafting with mist flow out from me as I jumped from the top of the tree. A dozen copies of Tessia ran and flew in different directions, each spreading across the city like dewdrops slipping along a green leaf.


    Bairon turned a few into less than ionized particles with a few sweeps of his arms. Void wind blades took out another few. But the majority managed to clear the distance fast enough, including me. Weakened as I was by conjuring that one massive spell, my mana signature wasn''t easy to detect anymore.


    I heard the traitorous bastard curse, alongside a select few hisses from the wind as I hit the ground running. Behind me, the tree stretched twenty stories tall, unbroken by the assaults.


    I pumped my arms as I ran, praying that this gamble would pay off. I just needed to stall for time. Arthur was close by, and I knew he would return soon when he was done with Nico. He could snap Bairon''s Lance tether easily, and was more than enough to deal with a Scythe that refused to show her face and another Retainer.


    So as long as I drew the Alacryans'' attention away from the tree, then there was a chance.


    You need me as the Vessel, don''t you? I thought angrily. I''d fought constantly throughout my life, desperately trying to avoid being controlled by others. You want to shove me into a little box. Come and get me. Come and try.


    As I breezed through the streets, I could sense a few of the other illusions vanish, but it didn''t appear as if I were being followed just yet. Still, the red-hot anger that kept me going¡ªthe anger at Bairon, anger at Agrona, and anger at this entire war¡ªforced my weary limbs to keep pumping. I passed by a hundred people in the streets; bystanders who had finally wrenched themselves from the safety of their homes to stare at the massive tree now towering over everything in Xyrus City.


    "Get back in your homes!" I bellowed as I vaulted over another wall, forcing every distant illusion to echo the same words. "Stay inside! Don''t put yourself in harm''s way!"


    That''s all you can do for them, I forced myself to acknowledge as I blurred through the streets, leaving behind countless innocent men and women who might stand in the way of a rampaging enemy. That''s all you can do right now. Stick to your mission. The entire reason you became a Lance was so that you could be bait.


    I needed to fulfill my mission. I needed to be what I promised I would be.


    But as I reached a shadow of a building a few miles from the towering tree, I finally allowed myself to slow. I leaned weakly against a corner wall, my scraped and too-slow fingers clutching at the tough ridges of stones that had seen a thousand thunderstorms. Most of my other illusions were dissipating. Part of me was worried that my enemies would assume I''d escaped, then return to trying to fell the tree.


    But some deep, gut instinct told me the truth. Even among Art''s family, I was the priority. They couldn''t afford for me to escape.


    Which meant that I needed to keep running. As long as Agrona wanted me to be the Legacy, I could never stop running. I felt my lips trembling, my heartbeat hastening as I fought back a single tear.


    Back when I had made the proposition to Art¡ªGrey¡ªthe idea had lingered in the back of my head. The knowledge that I might never escape this shadow.


    The war between Alacrya and Epheotus had gone on for millennia already. I couldn''t imagine it ending in my lifetime, either. And if it didn''t¡­


    How long would that shadow cling to me? How long would I always be under threat of losing everything, simply because I was the most convenient container for a cruel deity to stuff someone else inside? Would I always stare up at the light and know that the shadow I cast was long and dark? Even if Art killed Nico, would Agrona just reincarnate him again? Would it just become a cycle?


    I didn''t know why it all rushed to the forefront of my mind then. I''d stood strong as Lance for so long, being the shoulder for Art to lean on when he felt weak. But for some reason, as I leaned against the cobblestone wall, I felt it all well up again, tearing away my hard-won strength.


    I was so, so tired of war already. Would the rest of my life just be¡­ running?


    Willow was silent for the first time in a long, long time. Too much had been taken from her to craft that gargantuan tree, and I couldn''t even engage my Beast Will with how little remained. She would regrow eventually, but right now I felt alone. Soaked to the bone, bleeding from a dozen cuts, and with a near-empty mana core, I felt alone.


    It was the sound of stone shearing that finally tore me from my downward spiral. I blinked back my tears and swallowed the sob that wanted to escape my lips. I squinted past the low light, funneling mana toward my eyes as I tried to get a better grasp on my surroundings.


    My adrenaline returned again as I recognized the landmarks around me. The fatigue vanished from my limbs as I reined my mana signature in further, clinging to the walls.


    I was near the main portal gate, the one that the Alacryans had captured. But try as I might, I couldn''t sense any mages nearby.


    I tilted my head. There was a growing sense of utter wrongness starting from the tips of my toes, slowly freezing the blood in my veins as it worked up through my calves, thighs, torso, and then my head.


    I couldn''t sense anyone. Not a soul. Not a single speck of life or nature magic reached me, and there was almost always something. But even the ambient mana seemed silent and still, a complete opposite of the normally active and bustling portal gates.


    That sound of cracking stone came again. Sharp. Precise. Clear. It reminded me of the sound of a mana-empowered sword crashing against rock. And for some reason, that sound tore through my brain like a spear driving into flesh.


    The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and that was before the stench of blood struck me like an ocean flood. The pungent press of red iron suffused my nostrils like a plague, tearing memories out from the depths of my skull.


    I started to move again. My instincts told me to run away, to flee into the distance and never look back as that sound of scraping rock came again. But another part of me sensed that something was wrong. Something was about to happen, and the thought made my nerves tingle with fear.


    I crept around the bend, keeping to the shadows as I inched closer to that sound. My heart tried to pump my blood past the ice in my veins, but it was struggling with the weight.


    And when I was finally in view of the portal, I felt my stomach churn.


    The portal frame professed itself as stoically as always, that mirror finish of purple hovering within undisturbed by the strangeness around it. The surface wavered and swirled like the depths of the ocean, untold depths lurking behind that swath of aether.


    The portal was unknowable, a window into something beyond me. But what lingered around that portal was terrible. Terrible in how I understood.


    The square had been cleared in a radius of fifty feet, leaving plenty of room for the stage. All around the portal, runes had been carved into the stones. They glowed with scarlet light, the scent of blood wafting from them all. There was a pattern to those runes, a pattern I couldn''t truly comprehend. Mana drifted from each of the bloody runes, bouncing about with tinges of red that carried the scent of stale iron.


    An array of some sort, centered around the portal. Each of the connected spines spiraled about the portal like some great serpent, ready to sink its fangs into the unsuspecting pane.


    But as unsettling as the array was, it paled in comparison to the being silhouetted against that reflective pane of purple. With skin the color of a gravestone, horns thrusting from their head, and a curtain of ashes stretched down from their scalp like a premonition of what was to come, I knew immediately that this was a Scythe.


    The Scythe didn''t react to my presence. In fact, they seemed utterly and completely focused on what they were doing. My heart finally began to pound in my chest, my weakened body urging me to run in instinctive fear. Willow''s last Seed died here, I recalled belatedly. It was slain in one strike.


    Two urges warred within me. The urge to flee and never look back. The array could be dealt with by someone else. Whatever this Scythe was about to do to the portal, it was above what I could manage right now. I was too weak as of right now to handle this.


    But as the Scythe raised both of his gauntleted arms, I felt that other part of me rise to the fore.


    In one hand was something¡­ familiar. A horn of the purest white, streaked through with ribbons of pulsing purple and orange.


    I blinked from where I crouched in the distant shadows. Spellsong''s weapon. The white horn that he used to drain Sylvie''s lifeforce.


    And the other item was¡­ a beating heart. It was larger than my head, and each pulse of that separated organ pumped little splatters of blood onto the ground. Yet the Scythe held it out like an offering to the gods themselves, that bulbous mass of horrendous flesh trying desperately to provide for a body that was no longer there. With every pulse of that disconnected heart, the runes all about the portal flared with scarlet red.


    I could hear it. The rumbling tump, tump, tump. That heart wanted so desperately to die, but something unholy and wrong kept it working. Working for sustenance and care that would never come.


    And when the monstrous Scythe raised the white horn high, its tip gleaming with reflected red light, my terror finally forced me to act.


    I ran toward the Scythe, my swordstaff gleaming as I became less than a blur. The Scythe''s arm started to descend, the impossibly sharp tip glistening with fell promises as it came down like a dying sun.


    "No!" I yelled frantically, terrified for a reason I couldn''t truly discern. The runes around the portal brightened in anticipation as I jumped, preparing to drive my weapon through the Scythe''s wide-open back. "No, I won''t let you do it!"


    Time seemed to slow as I finally neared the Scythe, the point of my swordstaff inching closer and closer to the burnished metal of his breastplate. He had never even deigned to notice me, so focused was this creature on his task.


    And I saw in terrible slow motion as the white horn sank deep into the dragon''s heart, the blade-like edge parting flesh with ease.


    "A spark is offered," the Scythe said evenly. "And now it begins."


    The world fractured around us. Lights and colors and pain slammed into me in an enveloping wave, a kaleidoscope of magic and primordial power sending me hurtling through the sky. Space split into a dozen fragments, then a dozen more, the world bending as the runes flared. The portal frame evaporated into mist, spreading through the firmament like roots through hardened stone.


    The last thing I saw before the wave of energy ripped me from consciousness was the twisted smirk on the Scythe''s face as he stared back at me over his shoulder, the dragon''s heart in his palm dying a cruel death.


    ¡ª


    I didn''t know how long I was unconscious, but the flow of mana tore me from the depths. Someone was¡­ hauling me forward. Sounds came and went, but I couldn''t understand them. Not with how everything hurt. My shins dragged limply across the ground.


    I coughed weakly, blood leaking from my mouth. I tried to remember what I was doing, where I was¡­ There was so much mana in the air. My lungs shuddered and squeezed with every breath I took. I felt like someone who tried to drink too much water at once after living a life in the desert. So, so much mana. More than I had ever thought possible.


    More voices. More noise. Harsh words, I thought.


    My head lolled back as I tried in vain to move, and I beheld a sight that put any piece of art to shame.


    The Aurora Constellate¡­ It was here again. The entire sky was alight with orange and purple, ribbons of wonderful silk threading across the cosmos in a constant stream. The mana and aether both churned, pulled by some unseen force. Like schools of fish in a stream, curtains of dawnlight wound their way inward, the energies compressing themselves like lovers in an embrace.


    It was strangely¡­ beautiful. I stared up at it for a time, watching the magentas as they danced with the fuschias and the ochres with the copper. It was like the dawn had come again, descending from on high to grace my eyes with its soft touch. Those colors mingled with the storm, refracting their hues across the lingering droplets of rain.


    And then lightning streaked through the clouds again, and I remembered.


    Bairon was hauling me forward, his rigid hands clenched around my arms. Not far away, Lyra Dreide meandered around puddles of rain, the Retainer proper and poised as ever.


    I tried to struggle, calling on my mana core. But despite the utter saturation of mana in the air, I skirted on the edges of backlash, my nexus of power too overwhelmed from my earlier battles.


    The traitorous Lance noticed my movement, of course.


    "She''s awake already," he said with suppressed ire.


    Lyra''s eyes flicked toward me, something unknowable hidden within. "Impressive," she said simply. "The ritual''s effects struck her point-blank. To wake up so quickly is¡ª"


    "It''s nothing," Bairon interrupted. He sounded as arrogant as ever, even with his blazing white uniform covered in cuts and scrapes. "She''s captured. Now all we need to do is break that tree and everything will be done."


    Lyra opted not to respond, recognizing the hostility crackling across the undercurrents of the traitor''s tone.


    The fear I felt from being captured¡ªthat I had failed in my constant run¡ªwas suddenly overcome by a sense of disgust. The fact that Bairon still wore that uniform, despite how he''d been a disservice to everything Dicathen stood for¡­


    "Disgrace," I pressed out through bloody lips. "You''re a disgrace."


    Suddenly, I was being hauled up, my legs dangling limply. Bairon''s yellow-green eyes glinted with suppressed anger as he stared into mine. "What did you say?"


    I spat blood in his face. Before it could even reach him, little tendrils of lightning arced out from his flesh, ionizing the particles of red, before burning them away.


    "Disgrace," I repeated with conviction. "You''re a disgrace to everything the title of Lance stands for."


    The punch that slammed into my gut drove further resistance from my soul. Bairon dropped me, letting me clutch at my abdomen as I coughed in pain.


    "Your little King is the disgrace," Bairon sneered from above me. "It''s everything he did that made this uniform and station worthless. Before you slept your way to being a Lance, it used to mean something."


    "So that''s why you¡­ Betrayed Dicathen?" I wheezed back, my tone mocking despite the pain radiating across my body. I took a lungful of air, trying not to choke on the sheer quantity of mana flowing through the skies. "Because you weren''t special anymore? This is war, Bairon."


    "If centuries of tradition and culture are destroyed simply because an upstart boy thinks he can play monarch," Bairon shot back, his eyes cold and calculating, "what is there to fight for? You couldn''t understand, Eralith, with everything so prim and proper. But the noble Houses of Dicathen used to be a pillar. Without the nobility, there is no Dicathen."


    I laughed. It was a laugh of disbelief and absurdity more than mocking as I knelt on the cobblestones. "A pillar of destruction and oppression!" I countered back. "How many elves were taken as slaves because of your reckless system? How many people did the nobles of this continent trample over to get where they were? The Alacryans will¡ª"


    "The Alacryans respect the truth of this world," Bairon snapped back, lightning crackling around his hands. "That positions must be won by strength and merit, not because you knew the right boy to sleep with."


    The sheer hypocrisy of it all nearly overwhelmed the absurdity of the events so far.


    I shivered on the ground, trying to suppress my fear. "That''s what Lucas thought," I sneered. "Where did that get him, except turned into a limp sack of bleeding meat by someone stronger?"


    Bairon raised a fist, preparing to drive it into my skull as rage overtook his features. An animalistic growl tore itself from his throat as he hauled me up again, his eyes flashing in tune with the storm.


    "Enough," a voice with the icy chill of long-past time flowed over us. "You will not harm the Vessel further."


    Bairon froze, his arm trembling imperceptibly. His head twisted like a poorly-oiled machine as he stared, wide-eyed, at the one who had interrupted us.


    Their steps were unhurried, each coming in tune with the heartbeat of the Aurora Constellate all around us. Their ashen hair swayed in the storm, but even as rain fell onto him, none of it appeared to stay, the elements themselves fleeing in fear. Eyes like fermented blood swallowed me whole.


    For the first time, I caught a glimpse of the wound in the world. Behind the leisurely Scythe, I witnessed what used to be the portal stage.


    The world was caught in a cycle: one slowly expanding in a radius of incomprehensibility. Space fractured like glass, spraying purple blood, before recombining in all the wrong ways and fracturing again. Just staring at the infinite recursion of shattering and remaking made a headache build in the back of my skull. I resisted the urge to vomit.


    And every single ribbon of the artificial Aurora Constellate overhead streamed down toward that central point, fueling it with perpetual threads of aether and mana both. I thought I could hear that pierced dragon''s heart pulsing in pain and agony deep beneath the effects of the ritual spell.


    The world will burn, it pressed into my skull. It will break and burn. They''ll burn it all to the ground.


    I could only stare in horror as the infection of fracturing space seeped outward, carried on fractals of violet. Any and all retorts left me as my struggles and rebellion weakened. What had Agrona done?!


    "Tessia Eralith," the Scythe said nonchalantly, a cruel smirk splitting his face. "You''ve given my master so much trouble. But as always, things align as planned."


    And at once, I knew the identity of the bone-white Scythe that stared me down with eyes that had ended ten thousand lives and would end ten thousand more.


    Cadell Vritra, personal enforcer of Agrona himself. The Hand of God, who delivered his edicts and death sentences, fulfilled his will.


    I trembled, the reality of my situation crashing back in like an avalanche. "Art will kill me," I said with conviction. My heartbeat thundered in my chest. "He''ll snap my heart before you get the chance to bring the Legacy here."


    If the Scythe was surprised by my knowledge of the Legacy, he didn''t show it. Instead, those cruel eyes narrowed. The refracted light of an unraveling world bathed him from behind, casting him with strange, demonic shadows.


    "Is that so?" he asked leisurely. His eyes flicked to an empty space. "Have the Leywins been retrieved?"


    No response came for a moment, but finally I heard it. "No," a small voice said, no longer pompous and ecstatic. It was a child''s voice, nestled with fear of being struck. "Not yet."


    Cadell''s lips twitched. "Cease your cowering, Viessa. Show yourself. Now."


    Bairon stepped away slowly alongside Lyra as a figure phased into existence. For a moment, I was taken aback by how broken the figure looked.


    We''d received information on all the Scythes from Uto and Mawar both. Viessa in particular was described as¡­ beautiful, like an artist''s skills put to grotesque work. She was described as a doll that had learned to move on her own, possessed of a keen and terrifying intellect.


    When I''d fought off the Scythe''s illusions, I''d been fearful that she''d kept back to enact some sort of plan. But as the broken shell revealed itself, I thought I understood why.


    She was missing an arm, and the stump looked like a fresh cut. Drops of blood leaked from a haphazard cauterization, unheard through the rain. Her teal robes were soaked through with rain, but that only made the blackened mark on her throat more visible.


    Not a mark, I realized with surprise. A burn. A handprint.


    Someone had gripped the Scythe''s throat with searing fingers. She''d been branded.


    "Spellsong''s work was thorough," the man contemplated. Cadell looked Viessa up and down with slow, methodical calculation. Everywhere his eyes trailed, the purple-haired necromancer shivered in fear. "He turned you into a wretch. You shiver at the slightest mention of his name."


    As if on cue, the woman trembled. The fear that sparkled behind her eyes was something I didn''t think I would ever forget. She didn''t respond.


    The rain fell, and the world continued to fracture.


    "Do you fear him more than our master?"


    Even Bairon''s arrogance drifted away as he watched the interplay of the Scythes in muted discomfort and subtle fear. Lyra Dreide met my eyes for a moment, her masks up, before she turned away.


    Viessa swallowed, the blackened flesh of her throat cracking and leaking pus and blood. She opened her mouth to reply.


    But then I felt it. The same presence that had brushed against my mind like a flickering hearth so many months ago, ready to promise me the strength I needed to see Mawar fall. And in turn, I felt the tether around my heart tremble ever-so-slightly.


    Even as Bairon''s grip held the back of my neck, I allowed my head to fall. I accepted that presence as I had once before, letting it brush across my wounds.


    Art, you''re an idiot, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut as hope began to rekindle in my chest. You''re such an idiot. Always late.


    "Bairon," I said quietly, interrupting the rising tension between Viessa and Cadell. I didn''t spare them any attention. Right now, I wanted to talk only to the traitor. "You forgot something about Arthur."


    Cadell''s head slowly tilted up to the sky, where the aether and mana streaming from across Sapin painted the world the color of dusk. An ever-so-slight smile tugged at the edge of his lips. His mana flared, sensible even within the deluge of the ritual.


    "You called him a boy. A failure of a mage. A kid playing monarch." I licked my lips, tasting the words on my tongue alongside the blood and hope.


    Bairon hauled me up by my collar, something between fear and anger warring there. He was unsettled by how Cadell had treated his fellow Scythe, and he struggled not to let it show.


    "You forgot that he is your king."


    Something glimmered in the skies, like a glimmering star in the night. And then a beam of burning white descended toward us like the spear of a god.


    Cadell was already acting, a cruel smile splitting his face. A lance that looked like it had been molded out of layers of midnight and forged in the depths of the cosmos swirled in his hand. He thrust it forward with force. The weapon elongated with absurd speed, splitting the dawnlight skies as the tip grew and grew.


    The moment the blurring spear of white plasma struck the lance, the world erupted into motion.


    I felt someone''s arm wrap around my torso, comforting and warm. A familiar mana signature enveloped me in its careful embrace, blocking out the terror of today''s events.


    And I saw the moment when Arthur phased into existence beside me, his fist grinding against Bairon''s jaw.

 Chapter 308 306: Death to the King

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    Bairon rocketed away from me, his body spinning as electricity jumped from his skin. Lightning leapt from him, singing the cobblestones before his body dug a furrow in the rock. He slid through the stones for several yards before he finally stopped, sparking like a defunct motor.


    I ignored him for now.


    I knelt in the rain, threading my hand through Tess'' hair, brushing out a few chips of stone and debris that coated her gunmetal gray. Though my touch was gentle, it did not match the cold fury I felt building inside.


    Tess raised a shaking hand, her fingers trembling as they clutched my wrist. She looked like she''d personally been dunked in a hurricane. Her uniform was tattered, burned, electrified, and then soaked through, but despite it all, she still managed to maintain a sort of exhausted elegance as she sank into my arm.


    "Took you long enough, idiot," she said, tiredly. A strained smile stretched across her lips. "You pick the best times to show up."


    The entirety of the street was quiet, save for the crashing rain and ominous rumble of the unfolding spatial ritual. I could feel it, see it as weaves of infinite purple tied the world into knots that tore themselves apart in an increasing wave. The lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent Dicathians fueled the growing fire of Agrona''s ritual, and the effects were painfully clear to my aetheric senses.


    Toren drifted down from the sky a moment later. His hair was a burning, vibrant red that pulsed in time with the feathered runes adorning his physique. An armor of glittering crystal mana refracted the constant streams of light that shone in the skies, bathing him in a warm, otherworldly glow.


    He clenched his fists as he stared at the expanding dome of breaking space. Those burning pits widened in horror and comprehension as the lifeforces of countless people carried the ambient mana toward one violent crescendo.


    The world flowed inward toward a concentrated point. It reminded me of a mana core, in a way, if a mana core were made of haunted souls and bloodstained weeping.


    "This is what he meant," Toren said quietly. "This is what he tried to distract you from. The death and the slaughter¡­ All for this."


    Sylvie¡ªin her human form¡ªknelt by Tess, her amber eyes grave and focused. She pressed a soulfire-coated hand to my childhood friend''s back. Cleansing aether particles danced amidst the blackened red of her Vritra arts, the combined effect washing away the many wounds across the elven princess'' body.


    And through it all, Cadell Vritra watched. His gravestone face showed no emotion, and his countenance was smooth as polished marble. But his eyes. Those pits of red burned as they focused on me, memories of my earliest days on this continent threatening to pierce my composure.


    Memories of Sylvia, caring for me and calling me grandson. Memories of one moment of time stolen from the world, where a dragon too good for her Fate entrusted me with her daughter and her Will.


    Bairon rose slowly from where he''d been struck, snarling in anger, but the other two Alacryans drew more of my attention.


    The red-haired one took a hesitant, slightly fearful step back as she looked at Toren, her eyes wide with surprise as they darted between my kneeling form and the lingering scion of the Asclepius Clan. "Spellsong?" she asked, confused. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you with¡ª"


    It was only after Toren''s hand snapped outward in a blur, a gauntlet of shrouded light clenching into a fist, that I realized someone else had started to move. The purple-haired Scythe had turned, barely in the process of fleeing, before a shimmer of white fuzzed around her throat.


    A scream of terror choked off before it even had time to sound. I heard grinding flesh and exhaled air. Toren''s eyes remained fixed on the growing swell of the ritual magic, even as the ambient mana bent from his telekinesis.


    Viessa Vritra''s single remaining arm clawed at her throat as she fell to her knees. She looked like a terrified doll, her eyes bugging out of her head like an insect''s as her fingers clawed at nothing. It was as if she forgot to even use any sort of magic as she struggled futilely.


    "We''ll fulfill that promise we made you, Scythe of Truacia," Toren''s voice echoed out, smooth and graceful in its nestled tones. I could feel the heat of his power along my acclorite-infused body, sweat beading on my skin as Sylvie continued her work. "Until then, you shall wait."


    Cadell''s face slowly split into a smirk as his eyes goaded Spellsong. "Magnificent, is it not?" he said, sweeping a gauntleted hand behind him. "Our High Sovereign can turn anything to his ends. Any defeat and any loss can all be made into something worthy of the gods. Wouldn''t you agree? An array that directs both heartfire and mana¡­ Something so great could only be achieved by one who knew the intricacies of the world."


    The Scythe''s gauntleted hand slowly closed. "Kezess Indrath, Ruler of Epheotus, believes that his kingdom is safe from the grip of the Lord of the Vritra. The Dragon has thought himself above contempt, forgetting the mortality of his land. For as he sees it, it is veiled, masked by aetheric spellwork that forbids entry to all but those he trusts. But soon, that will change."


    The dots slowly began to connect inside my head as Cadell spoke. And I could feel it in the aether, too. This gathering spell¡­ It would bring all the power and energy it could to bear, before driving it like a spike through to the distant land of the gods. After all, the barrier between dimensions was weaker here, with an aetheric city floating in the sky.


    "There will only be war," Sylvie''s voice trembled across our mental link. "Unending war. If the connection to Epheotus is torn apart¡­ Then nothing will spare the people of Dicathen from asuran bloodshed. If Epheotus is sundered, my grandfather''s forces will burn everything to the ground."


    Visions of the massacres across Sapin flashed through my mind, but on a world-ending scale. Legends told of continents sinking in the wake of asuran warfare. And if Agrona suddenly had free access to Kezess'' home ground¡­


    Kezess wouldn''t allow it. The genocidal tyrant could not let his base of power be threatened. He''d send his armies over Dicathen, turning this land into an inescapable warzone. And if Agrona was willing to take that gambit, that meant he had a power that let him contend with open, asuran warfare.


    My pulse rose as I stared down at Tess, coming to a decision. She saw it in my eyes, no words needing to be said. I slowly rose to my feet, lifting my childhood friend, too.


    Sylv, I thought sternly, my body loosening as I prepared for what was to come, take her somewhere safe when it starts. Please.


    My bond glared daggers at Cadell, a hatred I had never known she possessed warring within her. This Scythe had killed Sylvia, her mother. But all the same, she wrapped an arm under Tessia''s, the two sharing a bond nearly as deep as mine.


    Toren''s head cocked like a curious bird as Cadell''s declaration washed over us. All the while, he had never stopped enforcing his will over the ambient mana, keeping the terrified Viessa in a choking telekinetic grip.


    His lips pulled back into a sneer that seemed both remarkably out of character, yet simultaneously made perfect sense. In his voice, I recognized the familiar melody of Aurora Asclepius'' melodic intonations. "This ritual is of the phoenix, Hand of Agrona. It is crafted of a firebird''s insight and an Inverted piece," he hissed. "These are parts more of us than of your petty Sovereign. We will unmake it."


    Bairon had reached his feet, lightning arcing out of him as he glared balefully at me with eyes that could kill. Part of me was reminded of when I had arrived upon the fields of Xyrus Academy during the Alacryan attack, witnessing Tess'' battered body as Lucas taunted me.


    But even the lord of thunder froze as a baleful aura seeped from the creases and gaps in Cadell Vritra''s armor. Like a thousand bony hands thrusting from shadows, I could feel the weight of untold malice creeping from the dark, trying to wrap their hands around my body and soul.


    Ever since Toren and I had arrived via his dying tempus warp, all I could see was impossible vibrancy. More mana than I could even comprehend painted the sky the color of a dying sunset as it glinted through the purples of flowing aether. Red and green and blue and yellow created threads of impossible light that nearly distracted me from the unfolding horror.


    Cadell took one step forward, and the mana turned black. His presence ripped the life and potential of every single mote of ambient mana that brushed close to him, leaving them dead and decayed. His gauntleted footsteps echoed out even amidst the thunderstorm. His horns glinted darkly in contrast to his long, bone-white hair, drawing a chill from the depths of my core.


    "Aurora Asclepius," he said with a sneer, "I have heard much of your powers. You have even managed to make something of your bonded lesser. It''s time that growth was put to the metal. Do you think you can protect this son of yours from my blade? Already, your Hearth will burn. It is only natural you are next."


    Searing white mist rose off of Toren''s crystalline armor as the rain struck it. Flames popped into existence around his shrouded talons as he rose to the bait. I exhaled a breath as I saw the mage tense, his eyes widening in tempered rage. Cadell had struck a nerve in the enmeshed duo of mother and son. His fingers twitched, and Viessa whimpered.


    What was it that Rinia said, not long ago? I asked myself, remembering her rickety words.The most dangerous enemy isn''t the one on the throne leading the forces, but the soldier with nothing to lose.


    That warning was not for Dicathen. It was for Agrona. And here Toren was, the prophesied soldier, the potential to unmake this terrible ritual seared into his very blood.


    I stepped forward, leaving Tess with Sylv. My King''s Force interceded between the roaring star and the cold march of death, all four elements pulsing with aether as I professed my will.


    Toren''s churning eyes zeroed in on me, and I once again felt those rising questions in my chest. How had he observed me? What was this mage, who had reincarnated from a distant Earth? How was I supposed to think of him now, when he knew all of my deepest experiences in a way no others but Sylvie could comprehend?


    But right now, as Dawn''s Ballad shimmered into existence in my hand and Regis'' hazy outline cemented itself at my side, I knew that none of that mattered.


    "He wants to fight you, Toren," I said evenly, adopting the cold mantle of Grey. "That means Agrona wants him to fight you: and that means you cannot."


    The air pulsed. The ritual not far from us was a beating heart, slowly gorging on the stolen life of those I had failed. With every pulse, it drank greedily. Boom boom. Boom boom. Boom boom.


    But as I stared up at the cold eyes of the first true threat I had ever faced in this world, the one that had denied me a life where I could enjoy peace with my loved ones, I found that my pulse was even. It was steady and confident in my chest as my gloved hands clenched around Dawn''s Ballad.


    I searched Cadell''s eyes as I stood before him. Compared to the towering creature, I was small. He was nearly eight feet tall, adorned in armor blacker than pitch, with gray skin the exact same as from my nightmares.


    In nearly fifteen years, he had not changed at all.


    "Boy," Cadell said in a dismissively dull tone, looking me up and down, "you''ve grown since we last met."


    His eyes focused on the golden crown adorning my head, and I saw a measure of true disdain pierce his cruel mask. "Even adorning yourself in petty jewels." The Hand''s intent rose again, attempting to cloak me in shadow. "Step aside. The High Sovereign still has use for you, Leywin."


    Visions of Sylvia, dying alone in a cave with nobody to mourn her, flickered through the back of my mind. I shrugged off Cadell''s King''s Force like a man dusts dirt from their shoulder. "Nico is dead, Cadell. Agrona will have to find some other way to bring the Legacy to this world."


    That, finally, seemed to get the dreaded mage''s attention. Where before his expression and mannerisms had been dismissive and apathetic, the way he turned to look back at me like a machine''s gears grinding to a halt made it clear I had his full attention. "Then you have made your survival irrelevant," he cursed, his mana signature rising. "And I can choose how you die."


    "Deal with Bairon and the others, Spellsong," I said, gripping my purple sword as mana flowed from my core. Aether tingled across my muscles and veins, the world rising toward an eruption around me as I waited like a taut bowstring. "And find a way to stop that ritual when this is done."


    Toren stepped back, seeming to regain his awareness of the situation. His gaze turned back to the dome of fractured space. It continued to both expand and condense at a frightening speed. Together, with our combined understandings of aether, I was certain we could deal with it.


    But not without dealing with those who would try and stop us.


    A ways behind me, Sylv tensed with Tess, both of them sensing the coming crescendo. Regis was a steel-cold presence at my shoulder, the king of another life staring with empty eyes at the titan of our past.


    Something rumbled through the earth, like the stampede of a coming train. It had a rhythm to it as it approached at speed, silent amidst the clouds. Cadell''s visage slowly morphed from his earlier pomp to a greater, deeper anger, neither of us breaking eye contact.


    I sensed more than saw Toren''s silent acceptance of what was to come. "Be careful, Arthur," he said somberly. "This world can''t lose you."


    The rising crescendo finally peaked, and the tension snapped.


    Viessa finally remembered that she bore mana arts, clawing at her throat with void wind and tearing apart the telekinetic spell around her neck. She stumbled away, lifting up into the sky and attempting to flee.


    Bairon roared, lightning from the clouds above striking him like fireworks from the deities themselves. Thunderclap Impulse surged along his nerves as he zipped forward, his rage-filled eyes intent on me. "Arthur!" he yelled, ignorant of his true station, "You don''t just get to¡ª"


    Toren was already there, moving nearly too fast to see as he intercepted the oncoming Lance. Bairon backpedaled in surprise, barely managing to avoid being impaled by a shrouded blade thanks to his enhanced reflexes.


    And while this was happening, I was already acting. In less than a heartbeat, I engaged fire and windborne both, calling to the aether to aid me. Cadell began to blur, a coating of soulfire sizzling around his flesh and armor as he prepared to punch me square in the jaw.


    Instead, I engaged Burst Strike.


    In less than a fraction of a second, my arm snapped upward with the raging fervor of fire and the graceful touch of wind. Mana and aether both flared around my glistening blade.


    Cadell managed to catch it. That lance of molded midnight appeared out of black mist, intercepting that attack that would have cleaved the Scythe in two. My violet weapon dug deep into Cadell''s blackened lance, wind tearing at the street as my spells surged through.


    I engaged Thunderclap Impulse, commanding the lightning to enhance my reflexes. The blur of Cadell''s approaching fist suddenly focused, the soulfire-coated gauntlet nearly bigger than my entire face.


    I slipped the punch to the tune of this coming battle, weaving in close as Cadell''s attack clipped a few hairs. Those locks of auburn fell in electrified slow motion under the effects of my internal lighting spell as I reared back a punch of my own.


    I abandoned windborne and drew on the stalwart earth to complement explosive fire. A gauntlet of orange flame, brown stone, and swirling aether coalesced around my knuckles.


    And once again, as my electrified eyes met the contemptuous red of Sylvia''s murderer, I engaged Burst Strike.


    My forearm phased forward in a blur nearly too fast for me to comprehend, slamming into the Scythe''s breastplate just under the ribs. A shockwave rippled outward from the impact as my strike dented the black metal inward. The horned monster grunted in pain as he hurtled backward, Dawn''s Ballad torn from his midnight Lance.


    It felt like I had slammed my fist into a wall of black diamond. Despite the sturdy defenses of earthborne, there was an ache in my translucent red and yellow knuckles from where I''d struck the monster.


    Cadell slowed to a halt in his backward skid, his hair flaring about him. He slowly raised a gauntleted hand to his lips, wiping at something there. The monster stared at the black blood dripping from his fingers, utterly silent.


    Behind me, I was distantly aware that Toren had disengaged from Bairon, and was currently attacking a massive mana beast covered in iron plates. Tessia and Sylv were fleeing through the thundering sky, making for safety.


    "It has been a long time since a lesser has managed to wound me," Sylvia''s murderer said dourly, almost as if to himself.


    I exhaled electrified steam, allowing my manaborne forms to retreat for a moment. I was getting better at utilizing them without strain, but holding two at once was still an effort.


    "When you last saw me, I was just a boy," I said with an empty tone, resettling my stance and flourishing my blade. "Things are different from when you murdered Sylvia, Cadell."


    "You still care about that?" the creature sneered, black hellfire sputtering around the dented plate armor. When it dissipated, there was no trace of the wound at all, just unblemished gray flesh. "Is that what drives the power in your blood, King Grey? Vengeance for a broken dragon?"


    I saw the black particles of mana coalescing at terrifying speed around the monster''s hand, a void-black sword of Vritra iron settling into his palm. In his other, he gripped the midnight lance, whose structure seemed to have recovered from where Dawn''s Ballad had cut into it.


    Memories played behind my eyelids. Perhaps before my ascension to king, I would have thrown myself at this monster in a blind rage. But over these past few months, I''d remembered what it was like to be cool and calculating. I knew when to strike and when to retreat. "I have never forgotten that cave, Cadell," I said, lowly. "That moment dictated the life I would live."


    Sylvia had asked me to live a free, meaningful life. One where I could grow old, cherishing those I loved. She wanted me to be more than what I was as King Grey. But how could I ever achieve any of that with the monster in front of me?


    And part of me still blamed myself. I blamed myself for being weak, for allowing myself to fall through that portal. I blamed myself for leaving Sylvia to die alone in a cave. And I blamed Cadell for casting a shadow across my second chance.


    Lightning struck the ground between Cadell and me, the voltaic storm charged with mana and aether both. Stone erupted everywhere, chips arcing into the sky as dust obscured my vision.


    The moment I lost sight of Cadell, I engaged water and earthborne. The earth hauled me forward as the world erupted into bursts of soulfire and spikes of blood iron. Oily-black spears two stories tall pierced where my heart would have been, each one gleaming with malice. I wove around a few, barely skirting the black metal as it tore cuts into my flank. But even as I used the well-oiled precision of water to redirect any attacks coming my way, I sensed something else building around me.


    The atmosphere itself came alive. Black fires darted at me like arrows from everywhere and nowhere at once, the hungry maw of the Vritra arts closing in. Each of those projectiles was longer than my arm and packed with enough mana to level a building, and as they accelerated toward me on currents of void wind, I felt a cautious fear begin to settle in my bones.


    "When the wretch, Nico, whined of a cold, emotionless king who carried no fears and felt nothing, Arthur Leywin, I felt something I had not known in an age." Cadell''s voice wafted through the hellish atmosphere. "Anticipation."


    Gritting my teeth, I called on the ambient water mana, forming rotating shields of ice and earth around me that moved to try and deflect each arrow of heatless black flame. The constant deluge of basilisk-tinged wind scoured at the aetherically reinforced earth nearly faster than I could conjure it. The barrage of soulfire arrows tore into my ice, devouring it hungrily. Everything else around me was caught in a maelstrom of hell a hundred yards wide, reducing everything to ash.


    It was like I was beneath the flapping wings of a thousand ravens, each falling feather scouring my mana reserves. There was no light, no saving grace, and no hope within this domain of darkness.


    "I never cared about your anticipation," I snarled, a dozen tiny cuts opening along my body. Within my manaborne forms, I didn''t leak blood. Instead, my mana drifted into the sky from every wound. "I''ve only trained to put creatures like you down."


    I ground my teeth, Dawn''s Ballad glimmering purple as aether danced around me. Within my head¡ªalready feeling the effects of using so much power to hold off Cadell''s casual assault¡ªI devised a plan.


    I let go of earthborne, taking on windborne in its place. The bungee-cord switch of mental states kept me energized as a swirling storm of ice and wind crackled around my knuckles.


    And as the domain of terrible Vritra mana collapsed in on me, time ground to a halt. I was a single, purple-blue fleck of light amidst the shadow of mountains, my crown glimmering gold atop my head. My translucent blue and green body refused the utter hell of a black hole.


    I slammed my fist into the ground, releasing my spell.


    Absolute Zero.


    A howling winter wind tore outward from me, ripping into the imploding darkness. Snow swirled and danced with flecks of purple as it howled with a gale that could topple cities. Cadell''s domain spell was repelled as ice spread along the ground, a wintery domain carrying my decree as king.


    This was my city. These were my people the Alacryans were threatening. This was my continent that these so-called gods would burn to ash. I caught a glimpse of Cadell again through the haze, his greatsword angled and his lance poised.


    I exhaled a breath, set my stance, and then engaged Burst Step.


    With wind magic removing my air resistance and the ice beneath my boots, I became little less than a blur as I surged toward Cadell. But the monster''s eyes remained fixed on me as I hurtled toward him with the speed of a dozen planes.


    His sword came down, poised to cleave me in two. With how my weapon was angled, I knew I wouldn''t be able to raise it in time to deflect. The slab of black steel had been positioned perfectly to intercept my strike before I had even moved.


    I grinned vindictively, then twisted the space in front of me.


    I Warp Stepped backward, just as Cadell''s sword carved right through where I would have been. His blade slammed into the ice on the ground, sinking deep. Yet I still carried the impossible momentum of my Burst Step, and I streaked past the Scythe, Dawn''s Ballad cleaving him perfectly in two in a vibrant purple arc.


    I knew immediately that I had somehow missed. I had sensed the shearing of his metal armor, but not his flesh. My weapon came away clean.


    He''s going to attack now, I thought with a sudden panic, something that was uncharacteristic of me. He''s going to¡ª


    I jumped, twisting in midair as I barely avoided twin scythes of blood iron. They cut neatly through two of the nearby buildings, causing them to collapse into rubble. On instinct, I released waterborne, taking on fireborne as I recognized the swell of soulfire that was about to strike me. In fireborne, I''d be more resistant to any fire deviant, even if¡ª


    I barely raised Dawn''s Ballad for a parry, before catching a feint and stepping back to avoid a sweep of the monstrous lance. My limbs burned from even the most basic actions, and I was forced to use both of my hands to deflect Cadell''s casual one-handed sweeps. Sweep, sweep, sweep. His lazy blows left craters in the ground, toppled houses, and sent arcs of cutting black void wind into the sky.


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    When the hammer blows became too much to dodge, I used earthborne, redirecting what force I could into the shattered stone beneath me. When blocking wouldn''t work, I switched back to evasion and parrying, angling my purple sword in a desperate bid to keep my head.


    And still, Cadell continued, unphased by everything I had thrown at him so far.


    We zipped along the streets as I was pressed on the backfoot, every shadow lashing out and trying to steal my soul. Gusts of wind and piston stamps kept me mobile, darting from place to place as the inexorable Scythe pressed forward.


    "How many times do you think I have played this game?" Cadell sneered. "How many times do you think I have fought things like you?"


    I growled angrily, feeling my trepidation and fury both as I failed to make a single meaningful bit of damage. Fireborne pulled at that anger, harnessed it and honed it. "You''ve never fought anything like me," I snapped, already beginning to put together what made this monster invulnerable. "You''ll never fight anything like me again. I''m going to kill you. For all the pain and suffering your kind has caused. For Sylvia, too."


    Cadell had such perfect mastery of soulfire that he could turn his flesh into it. Every time Dawn''s Ballad carved through his armor, he would preemptively turn a section of his physique into that damnable deviant. Even in fireborne, I could hardly comprehend the amount of precision such a spell would take. The sheer amount of control it needed made me certain.


    He can''t maintain such a spell indefinitely. It''s too difficult, and he can only allow attacks to phase through parts of his body at a time, I reasoned.


    I felt my mana reserves as another house collapsed from rebounding blood iron spikes. Distantly, I could sense the people within as they were crushed beneath the falling rubble, all unconscious from the sickening abundance of mana in the air. It only made my anger rise higher, my resolve to put this creature down.


    A plan solidified in my head. I needed to hit the bastard with something he couldn''t dodge or block. Something that would overwhelm him.


    "More of the same," he sneered as we erupted into a center square. For the first time, I spotted people about us. Most of them were lying on the stones, overwhelmed to the point of unconsciousness from the ritual''s flood of mana. They were splayed out like broken dolls, mothers reaching for children. Food stalls were toppled over, fresh produce spilling everywhere across the street. "I''ve always dealt with pests like you."


    On a sudden, desperate urge, I engaged both wind and waterborne. I pleaded to the ambient mana, trying to push away any who were too close to the epicenter of the coming hell. Around me, a typhoon of aetheric water washed the square clear of people. Some slammed into brick walls or crashed against wooden carts, but I didn''t have the time to see to their safety.


    With my arms extended and my core aching, I was unprepared for the punch that slammed into my face. Stars exploded across my vision, my jaw fracturing from the gauntleted strike. The soulfire in Cadell''s punch seeped into me, trying to claw its way across my manaborne form.


    I blinked dizzily, struggling to remain conscious as another fist hurtled toward my face. I had the wherewithal to weave to the side, but a knee to my abdomen sent fresh organ-rupturing pain through my ribcage.


    "When I slew Sylvia Indrath fifteen years ago, I was already Agrona''s Hand," Cadell hissed, raising his sword again, "while you were a mere child. And now, years later, you say you''ll end me for Sylvia?"


    His blade came down like the harsh cry of a guillotine, singing with dark anger.


    Through pain and agony of fractured ribs and a concussed head, I pleaded for the ground to give me something. To see me through this battle. I couldn''t die here, not to Cadell. I still had so much to do.


    My body shuddered with pain, and the entire square collapsed inward. A sinkhole a dozen yards wide swallowed everything, causing Cadell''s balance to tip. His blade missed me by scant inches. His teeth gleamed like fangs.


    "Before you were even born on this continent, I had already slain gods," Cadell hissed, leaning forward so that I could better sense the absurd amounts of mana roiling off of him. "When you were a whelp in another world, running along the slums of a broken nation, I was a Wraith for the High Sovereign. Hunting. Finding. Killing. Your precious Sylvia was just another asura who joined the others. She was nothing special."


    I didn''t fully register Cadell''s words as we both fell. Instead, I beckoned to the aether, Warp Stepping high into the sky again. I hovered there, encapsulated by the winds as one of the ribbons of aether and mana brushed by me.


    Cadell didn''t seem surprised. He stared up at me with eyes full of contempt and disappointment.


    I exhaled a gasp, pulling on my mana core once more as I used mana rotation to replenish my reserves. My hair whipped around me, lightning arcing across the sky. Orange lightning.


    In my periphery, I was vaguely aware of Toren''s showdown with Bairon, Viessa, and the red-haired Retainer. Spellsong looked largely unharmed as he zipped about the sky on wings of crystal, trailed by tendrils of searing voltage. Bairon''s veins pulsed orange-red, the whites of his eyes now a deep black. Blood leaked from his nose and a thousand cuts along his body as he roared, hurtling after Toren with the speed of a return stroke.


    It didn''t appear as if he''d ever catch up.


    I''d been pulling on the tether I had with Bairon since his fight started, trying to ensure his heart stopped beating. Yet somehow, the rogue Lance had managed to ignore the fact that he should be dead.


    But he would die anyways, regardless of the outcome of his fight with Toren Daen. The drug that visibly coursed through his system was the same that had drained his rotten brother of life, condemning him to misery.


    Strangely, it was that realization¡ªthat Lance Bairon Wykes would share the same Fate as his bygone brother¡ªthat gave me clarity, washing away my wounds for an instant.


    "No, Cadell," I said quietly, raising Dawn''s Ballad high. It gleamed like a violet beacon amidst the impossible kaleidoscope of colors. The wind of the storm tore at my tattered clothes, rain soaking into the countless cuts along my body. Fireborne gripped me as I sent a song to the storm, wishing for it to hear me. "You''re wrong about Sylvia. About what she was."


    Lightning crashed into the violet blade from the heavens, guided by my intent. One bolt, two, three, four¡­ Each came with an increasing frenzy.


    Far below at the edge of the massive sinkhole, Regis watched with dull eyes. Judging. And that was what Cadell didn''t understand. Sylvia had shown me that I could never accept Grey, never be that creature I was before.


    I saw Cadell''s sneer as he conjured a storm of blood-iron spikes, each of them accelerating toward me along currents of void wind. I hung in the sky, bathing in the sheer flow of mana and movement of the space around me.


    And then Dawn''s Ballad came down like the command of a King. In it, I imbued my rejection of my previous life. My denial that I would be the same King I was before. My surety that I would be better.


    The world flashed lavender as a bolt of lightning tore its way through the evening sky, bathing everything in a purple glow. My spell, amplified in size and power by the aether entwining it, screamed downward faster than I could even comprehend.


    And when it reached Cadell''s volley of blood iron, it only used the Vritra metal to further its ionizing goal. From shard to shard to shard of black metal it jumped, streaking downward in an unrelenting stream.


    It struck the monstrous Scythe head on, bathing the world in violet and yellow light. The ground shook as tendrils of energy arced around the shattered town square, turning wood and stone into dust.


    I slumped in the sky, wincing from the effort as fireborne drifted away. Dawn''s Ballad nearly slipped from my hand as the aftereffects of such a powerful spell made themselves known. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Cadell couldn''t have dodged that. With the speed of the spell, his position in the air, and the sheer volume of mana and aether within¡­ he couldn''t have just turned part of his body into soulfire like he did before. I had landed my first sure hit of this fight.


    But then the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I had been charged with enough lightning to keep an Earthen city powered for a week a moment ago, but I hadn''t felt¡­ this. This rising sense of dread. This wasn''t from lingering lightning in the air.


    My heart skipped a beat as a presence drifted up from the earth.


    Thunder rumbled ominously as I stared with rising horror at the charred sinkhole I''d turned into a glass floor. Because rising out of it¡ªin slow, steady waves gradually growing¡ªwas soulfire. More and more and more soulfire burned in that pit, like a layer of hell all to itself. Those flames hurled silent tongues high, the particles of black-red deviant mana devouring even the dust.


    "You misunderstand me, lesser," Cadell''s voice echoed from that growing inferno. "I will show you."


    He ascended like a demon from the depths of hell.


    Cadell''s skin was blackened and burned in a dozen places. His armor sparked and jumped with lingering electricity as his hair flowed behind him. He was wounded.


    "Do you think you are the first to weep to me of their Sylvia?" he hissed. "Do you think you are the first to whine about how special the one I slew was?"


    As I looked on in horror, his flesh began to mend in seconds, the damage I''d fought so hard to give him vanishing into nothingness. Cracked wounds reknit in tongues of healing hellfire, erasing all my progress.


    "I have slain countless Sylvias, and every single Arthur Leywin that has sought their vengeance afterward. I wanted¡­ more from you. I wanted King Grey. But you have disappointed me."


    And then Cadell''s entire body broke apart as a swell of mana erupted from him. I only had a single moment, a split instant of terrible realization as a storm of soulfire and void wind meshed with the air around me.


    Cadell had never needed to change only parts of his body to soulfire. Because as his mana signature dispersed into the winds, I knew with rising terror that he''d somehow melded with the atmosphere itself. He hadn''t just turned his flesh to soulfire, but void wind as well.


    On horrified instinct, I concentrated mana from my core once more, dipping into water and earthborne as I sensed the utter tide of power stretching toward me. The aether haltingly obeyed my pleas as a cocoon of ice and earth coalesced around me, thicker than an iron hyrax''s armor. I lost sight of the world as a celestial shell of glimmering purple, blue, and brown blocked out the light.


    But I could sense what was happening outside as the weight of the atmosphere slammed into my shell. Soulfire tore at my defenses and shards of blood iron peppered my last refuge. The impacts rattled through the plates. I exhaled icy mist as I pulled myself inward, curling up to better concentrate my protections around me.


    Within my head, I was trying to think of what I could do next. Anything I could do next. I could suddenly sense Sylvie''s rising panic at Cadell''s swelling mana signature, fearing as it battered my hovering sphere of condensed ice and earth.


    He can''t just keep doing this! I thought hazily, sensing as more and more power assaulted my protective cocoon. He''ll run out of mana eventually! He has to!


    I intuitively felt it when Cadell''s nebulous form¡ªmade intangible and untouchable as it howled around me, assaulting me with an endless barrage of metal and anger¡ªcoalesced in front of the sphere once more.


    "King Grey is dead," his contemptuous voice seeped through the growing cracks in my prison, "and in his place, I have to fight¡­ this."


    And then the flat of his blade slammed into my celestial shell with enough force to level a city block. My defensive measures shattered like glass, ice and stone left to the wind. I hurtled violently down toward the streets far below, the remnants of my sphere dissipating around me.


    High above, Cadell had become one with the storm, a black smog of fire and grave-still decay misting through the thunder. A dozen spikes of blood iron hurtled down, each of them larger than a telephone pole, all tipped with soulfire and accelerated along gusts of grave wind. The breath of a thousand corpses screamed their fury toward me.


    I resisted the urge to shake and tremble as I hit the ground, automatically conjuring pathways of ice along the streets. I skated backward, using gusts of wind to increase my momentum as I desperately dodged each spear. Dawn''s Ballad flashed as I worked through sword arts I''d learned a lifetime ago, trusting in the Water and Wind forms to redirect and see me safe.


    I blurred backward along the streets. Spines of oily black followed me, appearing like the quills of a raging porcupine as I barely avoided death by the skin of my teeth. My mana core ached from overuse as I struggled to think of what to do next.


    As I raced through the cobblestone byways, trying to think of a plan, I caught sight of someone. A few people.


    I squinted through the haze of my battle frenzy, noting¡­ Was that Blaine?! And Kathyln, too, in the distance with a hundred others. They were shouting and screaming, trying to order their soldiers to¡ª


    I ducked, barely avoiding a slice of Cadell''s sword as it whistled through the air right where my head used to be. My limbs screamed in exhaustion as I whirled with the perfect precision of a ballet dancer, cutting upward toward the demonic shadow at my back.


    I could only see two black-red rubies in the cloud of wind and fire. Two pits of infernal scarlet blazed with hatred as my purple blade phased harmlessly through the air.


    A gauntleted hand appeared from that fog, gripping my wrist. I tried to reorient, kicking upward toward those eyes in desperation.


    Instead, Cadell slammed me to the ground, a crater larger than a house opening beneath my water-wind body. I coughed up blood, my forms abandoning me in that instant.


    I blinked, trying to make sense of what was up and what was down as I knelt in that crater, my fingers still clutching Dawn''s Ballad. Blood streamed from me as soulfire wormed its way along my mana channels, my acclorite-infused physique battling the foreign influence.


    "And just like every Arthur Leywin I''ve fought, it ends like this. With you kneeling broken at my feet," Cadell hissed above me. "And all who worship you¡ªall who thought you might shelter them from the truth¡ªthey can do naught but watch. You have failed them all, Lesser King."


    I blinked through the pain, looking up at the monster as he loomed over me. At the edges of the crater, a hundred familiar faces stared down in horror and fear. Blaine¡­ Kathyln¡­ Alanis, the Chaffers, Trodius, and more. The Castle''s response team.


    They trust me, I thought through the haze. They trust their king. They need me. They need me to be strong. To¡­ protect them all. That''s why I took the crown. To keep them safe.


    Regis stood silently at Cadell''s side. Just¡­ watching. The mask of King Grey stared down at me, separate and distant. I didn''t know if he cared. I didn''t know if he wanted anything different.


    Cadell turned his head, his neck creaking like millennia old wood as he observed the spectators. "You thought you could set yourself up as a king among men, Leywin," he muttered dismissively. "My master wanted to see what you would become, to see if you lessers truly had any potential."


    I could hear Sylvie''s sudden terror across my bond, but even that was hazy. Blinking past my pain, I gripped Dawn''s Ballad again. I forced myself up, trying to cut at the monster in front of me.


    It was sloppy. Cadell didn''t even bother dodging, just letting the attack mist through him ineffectually. When my cut reached its apex, his gauntleted hand reached out, wrapping my wrist in a crushing grip.


    In his other hand, he planted that midnight lance. "I will make a show of ending you," he sneered. "For daring to disrupt Agrona''s plans. For killing the little wretch, Nico. For disappointing me. I''ll make it slow and brutal, so that none will ever make such mistakes again."


    And then the shard of folded night sky elongated, surging forward. It pierced my right palm, forcing Dawn''s Ballad to dissipate, before streaking up into the sky. It grew and grew and grew, enlarging as it gored through my sword hand. I screamed in pain as I arced through the sky, dangling from a limp hand.


    I stopped before I thought I should have, the lance thunking into something solid. I jolted to a halt, my head cracking painfully against whatever I''d hit.


    A tree, I realized vaguely. A massive tree, one I''d just barely been aware of before, towering over nearly everything in Xyrus. And I was pinned to its trunk like a fly to a dartboard as the lance continued to expand. The end of the weapon stayed planted in that distant crater as it pushed deeper and deeper into the mighty oak.


    Cadell hurtled toward me, a flare of white hair and grim purpose. I conjured Dawn''s Ballad again in my left hand, swiping it at the lance pinning my hand. My violet blade¡ªwhich had never failed to cut anything before¡ªphased harmlessly past the midnight lance.


    As the monster reached me, wreathed in fire and wind, I made a split-second decision. I swept my blade across my own wrist, severing my sword hand. I fell, just before Cadell''s knee created a crater in the oak where my head used to be. If that had struck me, my skull would have popped like a watermelon.


    The agony of my severed wrist was distant as I fitfully called on my emptying mana core. Sweat and blood and rain soaked me to my very bones as I stumbled backward along the trunk of the massive tree, trying to think of what to do next.


    "A swordsman without his right hand," Cadell sneered, rising as he stood perpendicular to the massive tree. In his grip was my severed, mutilated hand, which he inspected with apathetic disdain. With dull hesitance, he plucked something from one of the fingers.


    I didn''t think I could feel more terror, but as the creature withdrew a single item from my dimension ring, I felt whatever surety I had left in my soul wither and die.


    A scepter gleamed there, gilded in silver and gold. Aether and mana danced around it in equal tune, a strange complement to the swelling ritual in the distance.


    The Lance Scepter. The symbol asuran authority that had allowed me to reassign and control the effects of the Lance Artifacts at will.


    I rushed forward in a roar, trailing blood and fury as my sword flashed. I couldn''t let this monster have it. He''d have Aya, Mica, and Varay under his control. He''d have Tess under his control.


    Cadell sidestepped with a contemptuous snort, before swinging the scepter at me like a bludgeon.


    It smashed into my chest, cracking bone and spraying blood. I was pressed into the tree as agony tore through my sternum, my core shuddering as my consciousness flickered in and out.


    "Papa!" someone screamed. "Papa, I''m¡ª"


    Cadell swung the scepter again, and I was embedded deeper into the wood. I screamed in pain, blood flowing into the grooves.


    Cadell stared at me, Regis at his side. I thought I could feel their joint disdain digging into my soul as I felt my life''s blood slowly drain away. "A fitting end, Lesser King."


    Then his boot slammed into my chest, and I shot through the innards of the tree.


    My vision went black for a moment as I hit some sort of ground, agony and rippling fire professing their dominion over every inch of my body. I laid still for a long, long time.


    But a single terrified voice pierced every inch of pain and agony with more efficiency than any lance Cadell could muster.


    "Art?!"


    My eyes snapped open as I heard Alice''s voice¡ªmy mother''s voice. And it was so close.


    I was in a hollow of corded branches and vines, like a nest-hollow crafted within a powerful oak.


    My family¡ªthey were here. Somehow, they were here, at the heart of this massive tree. Huddled against the far wall, Dad stood protectively in front of my mother. There were a couple of others, too, but I didn''t see them. Only my mom and dad, quaking in terror as the shadows of my past loomed behind me. My vision was tainted red by a stream of blood.


    They shouldn''t be here. They''re going to die.


    My mother pushed past my father, terror in her eyes as she called on her healing mana. She tripped over her skirts, nearly falling over as she reached me.


    "No, no," she whispered through horrified tears as she lowered her vivum arts to my flesh. She pulled me close to her, trying to mend my wounds. "No, my baby. You''re going to be okay."


    "Ahh," Cadell''s voice said, smooth and satisfied. "And they are all here."


    I turned slowly, my neck creaking as I stared in deepest horror at the demon at the edge of the tree.


    Two figures stood stalwart between me and Cadell. Tess, her hair glimmering silver as her mana danced weakly around her, and Sylvie, with soulfire sputtering around her fingers.


    No, I thought in terror, visions of a cave fifteen years ago flickering before my mind. No. No no no. Not again. I couldn''t watch this happen again, powerless to affect anything.


    I tried to pull myself up, but my limbs refused my command. Dad rushed over, putting himself between me and my bond and lover.


    "No," I pleaded weakly, tears gathering at the edges of my eyes. Not from the pain. From the fear. "No, please. Run. Run away!"


    Cadell''s nose wrinkled as he stared contemptuously between Sylv and Tess, his mana receding for a moment within this broken hollow of a tree. The scepter in his grip still dripped with my blood, my severed hand leaking scarlet between his gauntlets.


    "And the cycle continues," Cadell said stiffly. His eyes focused on Tess, making her shudder, before slipping toward my bond. "When I tear out the Lesser King''s heart, will the two of you come for me in fifteen years, weeping for your Sylvia?"


    Sylvie''s face shifted, draconic scales pulsing beneath the surface. "You won''t take another step forward, monster," she said, her voice tinged with both fear and resolve. "We''ll put you down."


    Cadell''s boot rose as shadows swelled around him, casting the entire hovel in darkness. Black tongues of fire licked at the edges of the opening in the tree. "That is what they have all said."


    I demanded my mana to move, for the aether to flow. I begged and pleaded and screamed at my weakening body as my mother''s healing arts sank into my flesh, trying in vain to wash away my wounds. I couldn''t let it happen again. I couldn''t lose everyone again. Not to this monster. Not to his fire. I had promised them all.


    Memories of another life flickered behind my eyes as I tried to stand, but I couldn''t shift an inch. I was too weak.


    I wasn''t Grey.


    But then something happened that I did not expect. Cadell''s boot halted as it was outlined in sudden white, sparkling mana rejecting his presence. His eyes widened the slightest, just at the edges, as something gripped him even as he tried to shift into the atmosphere again.


    Then he was ripped from the tree, torn backward by an explosive boom of telekinetic mana. He vanished into the storm, the demon whirling with a snarl to face our looming savior.


    I slumped back to the floor as Toren''s telekinesis ripped Cadell from the hole in the tree, a mirrored emptiness taking its place in my chest.


    Sylvie whirled on her feet immediately, her worry piercing the haze of my thoughts. My draconic bond rushed over, her aether arts sputtering across her fingers as she stumbled to my body in a near-perfect mirror of my mother. I felt the familiar healing balm washing over my body, soothing aches and pains I didn''t know existed.


    Tess didn''t move yet, still nervously staring at the place Toren had torn Cadell. The sounds of their battle echoed through the sky, sending shivers through the tree.


    "Arthur," Sylv said quickly, "we need to get you out of here. We''ll get you healed, then we''re going to retreat. Spellsong can deal with Cadell."


    Dad stumbled back toward me, kneeling at my side. He didn''t say anything, just held my mother''s hand as she slowly began to work in tandem with my bond''s aetheric arts. His eyes were a swirling mix of horror and worry as he looked at the ruin of my form.


    Mom bit her lip, her eyes shaking as she helped wash away the brutalities that had assaulted me.


    And watching it all was Regis, separate and alone. That was what Sylvia had always wanted for me, right? For Arthur to have a life without Grey?


    For some reason, despite it all, that made me laugh. I laughed, tears dripping from my eyes as the warmth of my loved ones made me feel safe, like a child in the womb. Tess and Mom and Dad and Sylv were all here, holding me and loving me. Even in this darkest hour, I felt so¡­


    So full.


    "He can''t do it," I said quietly, slowly drawing in energy with mana rotation. The stump of my right hand wasn''t fully healed yet, but no longer was I at risk of dying. I stood on shaky legs, balanced by my dad as he wrapped an arm under my shoulder. "Spellsong''s not strong enough."


    Even from here, the aftershocks of Toren''s clashes with Cadell rumbled through the sky. I could hear his battle cry, taste his aether and surety on the wind. But Cadell was greater than Toren, more than him.


    Sylv''s eyes glistened with tears. She could sense it over our bond, the resolve that still played through every nerve. The understanding of what I needed to do. "No, Arthur. No. You can''t. You have people who need you. This isn''t like your previous life. You don''t need to be Grey anymore."


    I don''t¡­ need to be Grey anymore? That was what Sylvia had said, wasn''t it? In a far-distant past? That was what made her special, wasn''t it? Cadell''s words seeped over me like hot wax. Sylvia wasn''t special, he''d said. She was just a broken dragon, condemned to die in a cave.


    But that was so, so very wrong. I''d only spent a few months in that cave with the dying dragon, but the time we''d spent together felt like years. Because, despite my mental age, I''d been able to act like¡­ To just be¡­.


    Had Sylvia¡­ ever called me a weapon?


    The world fell away as I stared at Regis, something deep in my soul aligning. He stared back, and I thought I understood. He was so alone, set apart from everything that could ever make things right. As I was bathed in the warmth of my loved ones, he was a cold monolith, never given the chance to change.


    No. She only ever called me child.


    I realized, then, that I had always misunderstood. Sylvia wasn''t special because she''d somehow seen the future, or accepted a monster. She was special because she had never seen a monster when she looked at Grey. She''d seen something I''d always missed.


    "I''m not just Arthur, Sylv," I said, pushing past my family. For a moment, I left the world behind, memories of all I''d endured these past few months trickling into my head.


    How had I been so blind? How had I ignored the truth for so long?


    No¡­ I knew why I''d run from it, terrified as I was. I wanted to treat this phantom in front of me as something alien. Something wrong. He was a creature, a weapon ripped from my previous life.


    But Sylvia hadn''t looked at Grey and seen a weapon. To the wise asura, he was just another broken boy, unable to face the world after losing his mother. For all his monstrosity, he was a child hiding from the dark, fearful of what may come. He wanted to hide behind his mask of logic because it kept him safe. And he was still me.


    All along, I''d taken Sylvia''s message to mean I should avoid Grey, throw him away and never look back. But Cadell''s mocking taunts of how Sylvia was nothing special unlocked a deep-seated truth inside.


    Sylvia was special because she had seen the truth so long ago: a truth I could barely hope to grasp at the time.


    We can be better, Grey, I thought, reaching out my hand to the phantom of Regis. How many times had I offered my hand in second chances?


    Trodius. Bairon. Taci. Nico. I''d given them all the chance to be better, to make something more of what they had around them. Not all of them had followed through, recognizing the beautiful gift of another shot, nor how beautiful it might be, to try again and be better.


    But as I offered my hand out to Regis, I felt like everything in my life had led to this moment.


    We can have another chance, Grey. You can be something better. You can grow. We can make something better of this world and of our second chance. You don''t need to be a child anymore, hiding from all you might feel.


    "Not just Arthur," I said, the aether around me dancing, as if listening to a song none could hear. "Grey, too."


    And as Regis stared at the offered hand, something in that visage of his cracked. It was slow at first, like faultlines in the earth. But as purple, aetheric light pulsed from beneath the shell, like a star bottled in a cocoon, it began to spread faster and faster. Like shattering glass, more and more cracks spread.


    He began to change. Emotionless eyes suddenly blazed golden. Short-cropped hair beneath a crown of dead gold lengthened, gaining a pale, wheat hue. Bland and dull features sharpened into something otherworldly and almost¡­ familiar.


    Like a butterfly emerging from the folds of a cocoon, he metamorphosed. With the chance to grow¡ªwith the chance to be better¡ªa broken boy could be something more.


    Regis hesitantly took my hand, a warm smile contrasting the grim line of his features I had always known.


    "It''s been so long," he whispered. And this time, it wasn''t with Grey''s dead voice. It was my voice, raw and choked with emotion. Tears streamed from golden eyes, as if he were feeling every ounce of emotion he''d denied himself for so long. "I''ve waited so long to hear you ask."


    And the world was bathed in light.

 Chapter 309 307: Heavy is the Head

    Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!


    Arthur Leywin


    "Fate is an apathetic thing, Arthur-Grey." S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The scent of salt filled my nose with longing. The kiss of a cool breeze brushed across my face with fingers that felt like the softest feather. It filled my lungs, scouring away the taste of copper and bitter defeat that wracked my body.


    I wasn''t in pain. Not anymore. No, I was strangely¡­ content. Peaceful. I moved my arms, feeling the soft blades of grass beneath them. The scent of earthy soil mingled with that sea breeze, filling me with an impossible calm.


    The grass felt so soft. So inviting. The sun smiled with light so warm I thought I could drift forever in the relaxation.


    "How do you know?" I asked, my eyes still closed as I lay in the grass.


    I could hear the rustle of the wind whistling comfortably through the trees. The lapping of water against a sandy shore. The cries of birds and¡­ something else.


    "Aurora Asclepius knew it. She who defied Fate, in a way, knows it best," that familiar voice came again. There was something soft and sad nestled in the cracks of that tone. "One need only look at this world."


    I opened my eyes, wincing against the glare of the sun. Only a few clouds crisscrossed the sky, leaving an endless expanse of pale blue. I took a moment to just¡­ stare, absorbing it all.


    Then something dark crossed my vision, streaking with a flap of wings and glimmering obsidian scales. A massive dragon flew a bit further into the distance, twisting as it went.


    I slowly pushed myself to my feet as the large dragon passed, a gale of wind blowing through the long grass. I was on some sort of bluff overlooking the sea, the sun slowly setting in the distance.


    And standing there, lit by the setting sun, was Regis. His hands were locked behind his back, interlaced in a simple manner. His long, wheat-blonde hair flowed in the wind, accentuating the lithe lines of his body.


    And instead of the dull armor of my previous life, he was adorned in plated scales of glimmering silver, each flowing gracefully as they embraced lines of dark obsidian-gold beneath.


    He looked¡­ Regal. Like a king overseeing his subjects, he stared out across the horizon.


    I walked forward slowly, feeling the press of the grass beneath my feet. Yet as I approached the now-changed Regis, my eyes drifted up to the colossal dragon gallivanting high above. She bellowed to the sky, a triumphant, echoing thunder that made the soil beneath my boots tremble.


    Then she dipped low, diving toward the water in a hairpin turn. Her wings pulled in, streamlining the muscle and power in her physique. And for the first time, I caught a glimpse of her back.


    Two figures were there. A little girl with hair that bore the color of autumn leaves, as auburn as my mother''s. Her eyes were a brilliant teal that sparkled with excitement as she squealed with delight, her hands thrown out to the side.


    A younger boy with silverish hair, however, showed no such joy. His hands clenched into little fists around his sister''s simple shirt, his eyes screwed tight. But as the wind rushed past him, tearing droplets of water from his eyes, he finally forced them open as he screamed.


    They were as blue as the sea that was rushing for them all.


    At the last moment, the majestic dragon of chiseled obsidian pulled upward, flaring her wings wide. The boy, who had been screaming in terrified contrast with his sister''s cackles, finally managed to laugh, too, his cheeks flushed from adrenaline and trembling fear.


    Someone else laughed. A melodic, beautiful laugh that sent tremors through my soul.


    I turned my head, looking down at the seashore far below.


    A woman stood there on the porch of a simple cabin, smiling with amused delight as she watched the children play on the back of that graceful dragon. A demure hand was raised to her full, pink lips, masking the smile beneath. Those emerald eyes glimmered with love. A basket of woven vines was clutched close to her side.


    She shook her head, locks of perfect gunmetal gray reflecting the shimmering dusklight. She seemed to steady herself as she embodied a hint of that refined poise I knew so well. "Dinner, you two!" she called, her voice like rose petals drifting on the wind. "Get back here before I call your father!"


    The girl on the great dragon''s back said something snippy, but I was having trouble hearing it. My vision blurred with wet tears. My legs shook, and it was all that I could do not to fall to my knees.


    As the great dragon¡ªSylvie¡ªbanked toward the shore, her amber eyes glimmering, I remembered my dream. A cottage at the edge of the sea, with a family of my own¡­


    "Before Lady Dawn broke Fate¡­ this would not have been possible," Regis said beside me, watching the scene with fond eyes. "Everything would have rested on your shoulders, then. There would not have been room for love and happiness, for the World demanded an Atlas of you."


    Tears streamed freely from my eyes as I watched Sylv¡ªsome distant, yet possible version of her¡ªland on the sand, so graceful that it resembled a feather alighting upon a branch. The two children slid from her back, the girl rushing and hollering. Her brother growled, struggling to keep up with her as he ran as fast as his little legs could carry him.


    The young girl finally reached her mother, skidding to a stop in the sand. She smiled widely in that way only children could, saying something to that mirage of Tess. My childhood friend¡ªwho had become a beautiful woman who could capture the light of the stars themselves¡ªnodded affirmatively, kneeling down and brushing off her daughter''s shirt.


    When the boy reached his mother, she gave him a light hug, before ushering the two of them inside. Sylvie, in her human form and looking like a young woman, strolled up next, exchanging a few heartfelt words with Tess, before following the kids inside.


    Just before Tess followed them, her eyes turned up to the cliffs where I stood. She locked eyes with me, a genuine smile painted across her face. I stood there, transfixed, before she turned back to the door.


    "And now?" I asked, forcing that terrified question out of my clenched throat. I felt as if I''d swallowed the sea itself, the thousands of tons of water keeping everything opaque. "Now¡­ can I? Can I¡­"


    I choked off, unable to pull the words from my soul. Can I earn my happiness?


    Regis turned away from the cabin, looking me in the eyes. His pupils were so gold, like a melted crown. But beyond the utter emptiness and apathy that had always marked them, now I could see the depths of his care. No longer was it restrained by the shell of a broken boy.


    "I do not know, Arthur-Grey," he said, his voice a perfect mirror of mine. "I am the crown and the sword. I am your right to rule. But I am not your decisions: those are now yours alone."


    The wind blew through our hair, tugging at the locks that would not stay. I exhaled a shuddering breath, recalling all that had transpired before I had awoken in this place.


    "Then I must seize it," I said quietly, closing my eyes, allowing the tears to stream. My fist clenched, the leather of my gloves creaking against my palm. Resolve smoldered like a sure fire in my stomach, reinforced by every part of this souldeep vision. "I must craft it. I must make it."


    I would make it. With Grey by my side. With Tess. With Sylv. With Mom. With Dad. With Ellie. With every one of those I loved, I would forge my future. I wouldn''t let my past grip me anymore.


    It was time I let my future define me.


    Regis smiled. It was a wise sort of smile: the sort I always saw on Virion''s face, or Marlorn''s in a long-lost Earth. It was a smile that knew you would figure it out in time, even though you might stumble and fall along the way.


    "So you shall, King of Two Worlds," he said softly. "So you shall."


    And then he waved his silver-plated hands. The air shimmered and warped, purple particles of aether pressing into the space between everything. In his palms, something slowly coalesced from the matter of existence.


    A crown, dark as the deepest shadow and reflecting no light, wove itself from nothing. Its matte-black surface seemed crafted from the shadows themselves, flowed in a simple circle. Shimmers of reflective translucent purple stood stalwart and strong all along the rims, each like a spearpoint defending castle walls.


    Just like Dawn''s Ballad, I thought, recognizing the materials the crown was forged of. Except¡­


    Four gems were inlaid across the front. They misted and swirled with the ambient mana, each notch of crystal warping one particular element.


    A ruby pulsed with the heat of fire, red flaring about it. Across from it, a sapphire professed a blue deeper than any ocean trench. A topaz glinted with the stalwart resolve of stone, standing still in the face of a glinting emerald of wind.


    As I stared at this perfect crown, sensing what was required of me, I felt¡­ Hesitance. A quiet question pressed itself from my throat.


    "If I''ve been judged worthy¡­ What have I been judged worthy for?" I asked, remembering my first conversation with Regis. "I''ve taken on so many burdens already. This power that is offered¡­ What will it require of me?"


    Regis considered this for a moment, still holding that perfect crown in his hand. He looked down at it, his eyes somber.


    "Your Fate was laid for you when you were born in this world, Arthur-Grey," he said quietly. "Now¡­ there are things that you may still be destined for: but this is only agency, over yourself and those who might swear their loyalty. You can use the power granted to you however you wish, once it is levied. For good or ill."


    The sea breeze blew through my hair. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sense of this vision.


    "As a king would, without repercussions."


    "Except from yourself," Regis replied, "and those you love."


    As it always has been, I thought with a sardonic smile.


    A few months ago, I might have been terrified to bear this burden. The weight of a crown¡ªsymbolic or not¡ªwas no small stone to haul.


    But I can share that burden, I thought, remembering Sylvie, Tess, and the rest of my loved ones. I''m not alone in that, bearing the weight.


    My legs had trembled after witnessing a vision of what could be. But as I slowly knelt, my limbs were sturdy and strong. My clenched fist dug into the long grass as I stared up at Regis, genuflecting before this manifestation of my deep psyche.


    "Then I will bear the burden," I said softly. "I will wear the crown."


    Regis'' smile misted away. I saw that same expanse of endless battlefields and war-torn lives as something serious and Grey rose from the depths. A hint of what had always judged me glimmered in the back of golden pupils, the radials flashing purple.


    He held out his hands, that crown glimmering in his palms. "Then go with my grace, King Grey," he said, his voice resonating with otherworldly power. The land around me slowly began to break apart, the illusion of potential washing away alongside the dusk. "Go with my grace, King Arthur."


    I closed my eyes, feeling the weight settle across my head. The metal was cool as it hugged my scalp. I could sense the energy humming through its structure, nearly vibrating with contained power.


    The mana flowed around me, pulsing and bending to my will. Each and every particle¡­ fire, water, wind, and earth¡­ They danced around me, guided and moved by the aether. Like light and shadow, mana and aether danced together, separated by¡­ a curtain. A veil.


    And I am that veil, I thought, exhaling. I am the Grey Between Light and Shadow.


    When I opened my eyes again, I was once more within the crook of Tessia''s tree, amethyst light bathing me like a halo. Though the battle between Toren and Cadell continued to rage outside, making Xyrus rumble and the tree shake, it was truly silent within this little hovel.


    I looked down at the stump of my right hand, seeing the blood oozing there. I cast my senses out, searching for that extension of my body.


    After all, my entire body was my weapon, just like Dawn''s Ballad. Why should I not be able to summon my limbs back?


    In a simple flicker of aether, my severed right hand phased into existence, displacing the air as I caught it. The palm was still gored through where Cadell''s midnight lance had impaled it, and the edges burned with soulfire.


    With a dismissive snort, I snuffed out the flames. Now that I could see, they were contemptuously easy to dismiss.


    I turned, looking at my worried and terrified family. For the first time, I noticed Elder Camus and Albold at the edges of the tree room, both in states of exhaustion and unconsciousness respectively.


    "Hey, Sylv," I said awkwardly. If I could afford to, I would''ve scratched the back of my neck in embarrassment. "Could you help me reattach this?"


    "Arthur," she said quietly, her eyes wide with awe and uncertainty. Our bond was alight with activity as she was finally able to sense my connection with Regis. "Arthur¡­ What''s happened to you?"


    My gaze panned across those who had cradled me not long ago, keeping me safe in a deep embrace. Tess, Mom, Dad, my bond¡­ They were all here. And most of them were gaping at me, different mixes of awe and confusion radiating from them.


    They stared at the black and purple crown on my head, each razor tip gleaming with aether.


    "There is not much time, Arthur-Grey," Regis'' voice thrummed through my mind. "You are yet exhausted. Your limit approaches."


    Sylv approached cautiously, running her aetheric healing across my wrist. The flesh slowly reknit, my weapon hand finding its place once more. All through the procedure, Sylv looked at me, silent communication flowing across our bond. Her tears flowed freely now as images and memories of a distant hillside overlooking the sea drifted through her mind.


    And then she hugged me. The teenage girl who was my bond wrapped me in an embrace that would have pulverized the spine of any lesser mage. Instead, when she began to quietly weep, it was with an aura of purest joy.


    "It took you long enough, Arthur," she thought quietly, burying her face in my chest. "It took you so long to figure it out."


    I ran my fingers through her wheat-blonde hair¡ªthe same shade as Regis''¡ªas she trembled against my chest.


    "Art, what''s¡­ What''s going on?" Mom asked, stepping forward. She still trembled whenever the resounding impact of spellfire rumbled outside, but she couldn''t seem to figure out where to look. My face? My black-purple crown? The shade of Regis as he flickered at the edge of mortal perception?


    I smiled at my mother, memories of days long ago rising from the surface of my thoughts like vintage film. I remembered growing up in Ashber amidst their hopes, carefree and loved. I remembered living here, in Xyrus, as I slowly trained as an adventurer and attended school.


    And I remembered when I lost my smile. When I''d gone to train with the asura. I hadn''t smiled a true, deeply genuine grin ever since. So when my mother saw the honesty in my expression, the surety that things would be okay, she closed her mouth, tears brimming at the edge of her eyes.


    I looked at my father next. He didn''t say anything as I gently pushed Sylv away. He just nodded, the understanding of warriors hanging in the air.


    I moved to the edge of the hollow, staring out into the thunderstorm. If I focused, I could see Toren and Cadell slamming into each other, a section of the clouds stained black from soulfire. Little explosions of rippling white plasma and rumbling sound screamed through the air as the two titans clashed again and again.


    A smirk tugged at the edges of my lips. It was nice to see Cadell bleed, even if it was only a little. It seemed Toren had some tricks up his sleeve.


    "Art," Tess said, running up beside me as she remembered the moment, "Art, are you okay? Spellsong can handle this, I''m certain. I''m sure. Do you really need to¡­"


    I felt her slim hand grip my shirt sleeves, insistent and demanding. As I looked down at it, I recalled the first ever time she had been so¡­ insistent.


    Well over a decade ago, a young princess had asked a boy not to go out into the dark. She''d wanted him to stay in the tent to keep the darkness away. She''d been afraid of the things that rumbled in the night, and the boy''s presence had helped soothe her fears.


    And as I looked into Tess'' eyes, that same fear shimmered in her turquoise depths. Except this time, it wasn''t fear for herself, left alone in the dark. No, this time, she feared for what the boy might face as he stepped into the night.


    I raised my hand to hers, squeezing it lightly where it clasped my shirt. "I''ll be back, Tess," I said quietly. "I promise."


    Tears welled at the edges of her eyes, and she sighed with pained exasperation. "I''m really tired of you saying that. Always holding out on all your idiotic promises, expecting me to just follow along. It took you five years last time."


    "I know," I replied, my tone laced with notes of sorrow. "And I''m sorry for always scaring you. One more promise, though? For old time''s sake?"


    Tess'' lips pursed for a moment, considering. Then she stood higher on her toes, a silent request. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tess'' lips. She kissed me back, clinging to me tighter for a moment. An answer in itself.


    When we separated, her fingers finally released my jacket. My childhood friend¡ªno, the woman I loved¡ªlet out a breath of acceptance as she moved from the entranceway, her eyes still dancing with worry. But still, her lips quirked up in a playful smile. "I don''t know why I put up with you. No more worrying now. Just¡­ promise me you''ll kick his ass, Art. Fair?"


    I chortled in response, turning towards destiny. "Fairest promise I''ve ever heard, princess. I''ll bring you a souvenir."


    "Are you ready, Arthur-Grey?" Regis asked. The crown grew ever-heavier on my head, the cold metal slowly heating up against my already-exhausted body.


    I am.


    It was time that Sylvia was avenged.


    The crown on my head glimmered, the purple blades shining for a moment as the space in front of me twisted, and then I stepped through.


    My world erupted into noise. The sound of crumbling stones, gasping breaths, and terrified shouts reached my ears. The stench of fear and dying men echoed all through my city.


    Blaine Glayder had seen better days. His maroon hair clung to his haggard face, and his powerful frame looked hunched. In the pouring rain, the once world lion of a man looked closer to a soaked housecat.


    But his voice¡ªthough it was tinged with fear and panic¡ªwas strong. He barked orders, directing those soldiers who could still move. Most were unconscious, unable to stand beneath the sheer pressure of aether and mana flowing through the atmosphere. In fact, he was only able to stand because of his daughter.


    Kathyln Glayder did not wear her usual ice queen fa?ade. She was similarly drenched to the bone, but she wore it better than her ragged father. She echoed his commands, occasionally conjuring shields of ice to protect from falling debris as she ordered more and more soldiers to go door to door in evacuation protocols.


    Except there''s nowhere to evacuate to, I thought, staring up at the clouds. The teleportation gates are compromised. There''s no escape.


    The crown atop my head increased in weight, that band of cold, otherworldly metal telling me how much time I had left.


    "Your Majesty!" Kathyln yelled, noticing me at last. Around her, the running soldiers belatedly noticed my existence, gasping in surprise. The princess of Sapin stumbled forward, hauling her exhausted father in tow. "Arthur, we need orders!"


    I kept my eyes on the sky, quietly calculating my next spells as Toren and Cadell zipped about like two dancing hummingbirds. "Find Trodius," I said simply, unable to spare the poor, ragged men here much of my attention, even as they escorted civilians from their homes and stumbled away from the increasing nova of breaking dimensions. "Escort as many as you can to the outer rims. The areas in and around Xyrus Academy would be best. They are safest, and the most warded."


    I tilted my head, sensing that the moment was about to come. "And if you meet any soldiers of House Wykes¡­ Kill them. They have betrayed Dicathen."


    Blaine''s eyes widened, opening his mouth to ask a question. I cut him off, gesturing toward the distant sky.


    The emerald embedded in my crown shone with light as I engaged windborne. I pressed my will into the sky, increasing the wind resistance before me manyfold. The sapphire gemstone on my crown lit, too, as translucent blue suffused my physique.


    A monster of the darkest hells hovered in the sky, snarling as it hurled a broken angel from their domain. Toren Daen shot downward like a bullet, trailing blood and shattered crystal wings. He gyrated in an uncontrolled tailspin, his heartbeat wavering.


    Cadell''s form had changed. His horns had nearly doubled in size, each of them thrusting from his head like impossible, gorey points. He was skinnier and lankier in this form, but I knew instantly that he was far stronger than before. His body looked like it was crafted of stitched-together obsidian. Every crack and crevice between that mottled blood iron leaked shadow and soulfire like blood.


    The wretched amalgamation of Vritra experimentation looked like something from the old demonic texts of my previous world. This was the thing that haunted the nightmares of the deities themselves, the pinnacle of blood-warped creation.


    Toren''s hurtling body slowed as it was caught in my void of heightened air pressure, the trailing blood freezing in tune. When he passed that, the swirling net of water I''d summoned bled the rest of his momentum.


    I deposited him unceremoniously by my feet. He coughed weakly, the runes along his body glowing dully. Something had scoured away most of his crystalline right wing, alongside the flesh on his right arm. Motes of black fire chewed through his flesh like parasitic worms, trying to reach his mana channels and scour toward his core.


    I watched in muted fascination as his heartbeat pulsed. Aether flowed along his veins, washing away the soulfire seeking to corrupt him, before his flesh began to regrow at a visible rate. He blinked blearily, his sunlit eyes dimming for a moment as he leaked blood into the cobblestones.


    He was tired.


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    And in his hand¡­


    "Thank you for returning that," I said honestly, ignoring Blaine and Kathyln''s surprised outbursts as they stumbled away from the phoenix mage. "It belongs to me."


    Toren looked down at his hand, where he''d been clutching the Lance scepter. He blinked in surprise when he noticed it was gone. He hadn''t been able to sense the flicker of aether that had drawn it from his grip.


    He looked back at me with narrowed eyes, noting the glimmering scepter of silver and gold in my left hand.


    "Anchor," he said, his voice overlaid with that of Lady Dawn. "You are¡­ different. Changed."


    I listened to the pulse in the air. That of the thundering ritual, as each rhythmic thump drew more and more aether toward a compressing point. And deep in Toren''s heart, a similar pulse pumped aether across his limbs.


    It was only now¡ªnow, with my new insight into the veil between mana and aether, and all that space entailed¡ªthat I could see the only way to stop this ritual. Toren was our only chance.


    "See to the ritual, Toren Daen," I said, staring up at Cadell as he readied another attack. I slipped the scepter into my belt, ensuring it was safe. "At its center is a beating heart, pierced through with an inverted horn."


    My eyes flicked to the still-kneeling mage as he slowly gathered himself again. Just like me, he was drawing on the plentiful ambient mana around him via mana rotation to replenish his dwindling reserves. "You''re the only one who can stop it. Follow the connection you have with the horn. That''s the only chance there is."


    "But, Cadell," he argued, pushing himself back to his feet. Rain streamed off of him as his telekinetic shroud slowly regrew, plates of mana phasing back into place. "Cadell is still a threat! He will not let me disrupt the¡ª"


    As if to punctuate his words, a barrage of bloodiron spears rained down from the dawnlit heavens. They looked wrong, backlit by the Aurora Constellate. Like hateful rips in a beautiful canvas, those hellfire-tipped lances shot down like a dozen needles, seeking to kill everyone present.


    Kathyln yelled in sudden fear, raising her wand and conjuring a few futile panes of ice to try and shield her father from his impending demise. The soldiers and citizens of my kingdom screamed in terror as their death approached.


    Toren, for his part, started to rise, conjuring barriers of fire and sound. His bloodied teeth were clenched in desperation as he prepared to try and defend the hundred or so gathered Dicathian soldiers around us.


    Time slowed, grinding nearly to a halt as I delved deep into my blood. I clawed down into my connection with Regis; into my connection with that crown.


    Fire and water. Earth and wind. They were viewed as opposites. Impossibilities that could not coexist, lest they destroy each other.


    Before, only the emerald and sapphire on my crown glowed with dazzling light. But as my translucent manaborne body slowly began to flow with the red of fire and the yellow of earth, all four gems gleamed in the aureate light of the Aurora Constellate.


    Power unlike anything I had ever felt before coursed through my veins. The will of every attribute of this material plane flooded from my nexus of power, emboldened and heightened. One should have expected water to snuff out fire. Earth would stubbornly refuse the coexistence of wind, as was its nature. And the wind would drift on by, uncaring of the earth''s denial. Such was the way of the world. Such was what I had always believed.


    But as every element infused my acclorite body, I knew that to be false. Water flowed around and through fire, goading it higher. Wind infused the base of those flames, ensuring they would never burn out. In turn, the hardened earth rolled with the wind, stubborn as ever, but paradoxically in tandem with its inverse.


    Water enhanced fire, and earth pressed wind in one centrifuge of boiling, brimming power. The ambient mana around me trembled and warped from the press of my quadra-elemental manaborne form.


    After all, was I not a fusion of impossibility? Arthur and Grey, light and shadow, mana and aether?


    "I am the Grey Between," I whispered on currents of aether, watching the approaching hellstorm of deadly black icicles. "And you will not hurt those under my protection."


    I waved a regal hand, commanding the world to heel.


    The rain around us halted in mid-air, before freezing into a million shards of perfect ice. I exhaled a breath, before an aether-tinged wind sent each sliver hurtling like a million needles into the sky. A split-second later, red lightning jumped from my outstretched fingers, the sparking crimson latching onto the nigh-translucent knives of screaming frost.


    My storm of electrified frost shards slammed into Cadell''s oncoming barrage of blood iron. Little needles of invisible ice bit into the spears of hardened Vritra-metal, a dozen at a time.


    Then the crimson lightning slithered into the basilisks'' aberrant metal, before detonating with a boom.


    Cadell''s attempted barrage was shredded into particles of soulfire and dust. With another wave of my hand, a breath of aetheric wind breezed through the sky, washing away every last remnant of Vritra mana that might harm my subjects.


    I locked eyes with the monstrous Cadell. Even in the distant sky, I saw surprise there at my sudden counter, uncertainty in that curdled red.


    I conjured Dawn''s Ballad, the crown''s weight growing on my head as I basked in the atmosphere oversaturated with mana. Fire, water, wind, earth¡­ There was so much more to each element than I had ever imagined. So much more than Realmheart would have ever let me see.


    Ignoring the awestruck expressions of my charges behind me¡ªand taking comfort in how Toren beelined for the expanding ritual sphere¡ªI stepped forward.


    Space warped, and I was in front of Cadell once more, high in the sky. Dawn''s Ballad gleamed purple as I swiped it at his obsidian maw. The monster snarled, letting the blade phase harmlessly through him. At the peak of my arc, Cadell''s lanky metal hand cinched shut around my blade. His eyes glinted with malice, a massive spike of blood iron erupting from him. The tip gleamed as it tore toward my multi-elemental chest.


    "You should have waited for me to execute you, Leywin," his gravelly voice sneered as that shard of sharp metal readied itself to gore me. "Then you could have died with those you loved."


    I clenched my teeth, weary of the weight on my head and the pulsing ache in my core. I gathered what reserves I could spare, siphoning energy across my channels, through my lungs, then across my throat.


    I breathed a frosty aetheric wind at the Scythe''s coming attack. Arctic cold devoured the erupting spike of blood iron. That frost continued to spread, inching downward like dread hands of winter.


    "Yours will not be swift," I countered with a grin, preparing the evolution of my attack. "You''ll suffer for everything. You aren''t so invincible, Cadell."


    My eyes gleamed as I leered at Sylvia''s murderer, sensing my frost spell tear its way toward the Scythe''s body of Vritra iron, wind, and fire.


    The monster must have sensed something wrong when I called to the ambient mana. With sudden panic, he released my fist, instead lowering a sharp elbow to shatter the frozen blood iron spike jutting from his chest.


    It erupted into frostfire, the fire and ice mana dancing in a terrible white-blue embrace. If the Scythe had been half a second later, his elemental body itself would have erupted.


    The glimmer of sudden worry in Cadell''s pitted eyes¡ªtwo little lights of red amidst the swirl of black¡ªtold me I had hit the mark.


    I had found one of his weaknesses.


    Cadell became nearly invincible by turning his body into soulfire and void wind, meshing with the atmosphere itself. In this new form of his, he''d augmented his power even more by incorporating blood iron into his physique.


    But every element had its inverse: weaknesses only I could overcome. Beyond that, his intangibility required him to suffuse the atmosphere with his soulfire and void wind.


    Yet I''d caught a hint of that technique''s weakness when I''d first blown away one of his atmospheric spells with Absolute Zero. I just needed to command the atmosphere myself, with elements that his basilisk arts could not so easily deny. If Cadell could not escape into the atmosphere¡ªif his meld was damned¡ªthen he was, too.


    "Don''t you know who I am, Cadell?" I taunted, a grin on my face as I twisted out of his iron grip. Rotating wind spun me like a top, red lightning glimmering around my leg. The gems on my crown gleamed. "I am a master of every element: the only master there has ever been."


    My voltaic leg slammed into the Scythe''s raised gauntlets. And just as expected, my attack connected. The deviant magic surged across the Scythe''s blood iron body, attacking and ionizing particles of it as it overloaded him.


    He shot through the sky with a crack of sound, tumbling haphazardly as he sprayed chips of mana.


    I felt at my mana reserves, feeling the burn in my body. Regis didn''t speak, but we both knew we would need to end this quickly.


    "You are no different than before," Cadell''s voice echoed through the Constellate thunderstorm. "Your strength will fail you, Lesser King. Only give me a fight before you fall!"


    The winds whispered of coming danger as something arced up from the ground. I wove to the side, earning a cut along my flank as I dodged the extending point of his void-black lance. It surged toward the waiting Scythe, ready to return to its master.


    A grin swelled on my face. Fireborne told me I should just rush forward like the firing of a piston''s engine. Windborne advised me to overwhelm him with my grace and evasion. Waterborne suggested that I use his own strength against him. Earthborne thought to weather every storm like an impervious rock.


    I found my choice easily.


    I stepped forward in the sky, space folding between me and my destination. Cadell appeared hardly surprised as I teleported in front of him, even as he hurtled backward. He swept a conjured blade of black iron toward me, but I deftly deflected it with Dawn''s Ballad. The impact rattled up my arm, even reinforced by all four elements.


    Twisting in the sky, I planted my boots onto Cadell''s greatsword. He grunted as he was forced to readjust his weight, easily fending off another swipe of my purple sword. I coated my feet in a layer of aetheric frostfire, savoring how the combination deviant crackled and shattered like a popping campfire and breaking icicle all at once.


    At the same time, I stretched my hand out as the midnight lance returned to its master. I focused on the earthen aspects of my body, creating a tunnel all along my physique.


    My fist clenched around the oncoming point of the lance, catching it in the sky. My hand jerked, the weapon nearly spearing me through the eye.


    But my plan was successful. The impossible momentum of that hurtling javelin streamed along the pathways of earth mana in my body, compounded and streamlined by the greasing of waterborne. And as that redirected momentum picked up speed under the compound effects of fire and windborne, I knew Cadell would finally feel pain.


    All the elements desired to be used¡ªfire, water, wind, and earth? They all wanted to see Cadell fall.


    So I embraced everything.


    "I wield all, Cadell," I snarled into the aether. "Every single weakness you have, I have mastered."


    All that building momentum flowed out of my boots, hauling that glimmer of frostfire with it. A thunderclap echoed through the air as a torrent of white, blue, and refracting purple howled through the sky for three hundred feet, bathing everything in purest winter flame.


    Cadell''s arm was consumed. In the moment before impact, the monstrous Scythe had managed to angle his blade slightly, stopping the attack from consuming his head. He snarled as his right arm¡ªfrozen and burned in equal measure¡ªdissipated into icy shards as I stamped on it.


    He swung a claw at me, his body expanding as he started to take on that atmospheric meld once more. Weakened as I was from constant combat, I wasn''t fast enough to dodge entirely. A jagged wound tore its way across my flesh, my body leaking mana at a terrifying rate.


    And then, an ominous sound rose from Cadell''s demonic throat. It sounded like the horrendous mesh of grinding metal and a roaring bonfire, all pitched high enough to make a weaker mage''s ears bleed.


    He was laughing.


    "This!" he sneered, surging toward me like a disembodied storm front, "This is what I have waited for!"


    Thunderclap Impulse made my nerves scream with dancing red lightning, my reflexes heightening. I flew backward through the sky, trailing embers of frostfire that I hoped would slow the beast down.


    They did not. Cadell''s body¡ªlike a dark smog that sought to wear away everything in its path¡ªcontinued after me, that terrible laughter echoing around him. "I was crafted in the reaching shadows of Taegrin Caelum," he sneered, his fell words trailing him like a cloak. "I was crafted into the perfect specimen. A lesser-made-deity. But never have I been allowed to test my mettle."


    My body ached as I conjured a small plane of earth behind me. My feet slammed into the platform, blurring sideways with a hasty piston stamp. Cadell''s one-armed form phased into existence where I''d been a split second before, healing soulfire already burning around his stump. He planted his lanky, obsidian legs on the stone, before rocketing toward me with the speed of death itself.


    He hit me like a freight train. Translucent purple and blood-black blades shone as they locked in a shearing bind. Red lightning sparked and danced around me as my arms strained against Cadell''s terrible strength. Even with only one arm, he pressed me down.


    He leaned over our crossed weapons, his cruel smile leering and terrible. I almost thought he wanted to rip my throat out with his too-white teeth. "Your Sylvia provided no challenge. She was no dragon in the end, just a winged lizard bleeding alone in a cave. But you, Arthur Leywin, have proven to be more at last. I misjudged you, boy."


    Earthborne told me of the ground fast approaching. If this continued, the monstrous Scythe would slam me into the stones, breaking every one of my bones.


    I glared into Cadell''s eyes, feeling the weight of the crown on my head once more. They were the endless pits of red fit for a demon''s nightmare, but I didn''t feel fear. Not anymore. Though my heart thundered in my chest and my adrenaline kept every nerve wired alongside the searing pain of Thunderclap Impulse, I saw my path to victory.


    "Everyone''s allowed to make mistakes," I countered, forcing a jovial tone into my voice. I leaned in close as the wind carried my words, "But I won''t let you learn from your misjudgment."


    Then I did something the beast did not expect. Guided by countless hours of combat and close-quarters martial training, I let go of Dawn''s Ballad. My blade misted away into purple particles as I flowed like wind and water around Cadell''s attempt to gore me.


    I grappled with the surprised Scythe, my body outlined in an aura of icy silver frostfire. With expert precision, I wove to his back, pressing myself close.


    And I erupted in a nova of aetheric frost, taking hold of the atmosphere around us both. Cadell tried to mesh with the air once more to escape my grapple, but his void wind and soulfire were frozen and torn away by my dominion over the World.


    I could feel my translucent flesh screaming, my nerves ripping with agony as Cadell sprouted a thousand tiny barbs of blood iron as he changed tactics. But still, I refused to leave as we continued to fall like broken birds.


    I hadn''t just trained my swordsmanship these past few years. My hand-to-hand combat skills had been whittled and refined toward near perfection for years in the aether orb by Kordri. Every time I sparred with Taci these past few months, I left my training greater.


    I wasn''t just the better swordsman. I was a martial master of more arts than I could count, something this beast could never hope to contend with. Grappling was no different.


    My left hand snapped shut around one of Cadell''s massive horns, my grip tight enough to make the ridged structure creak. Dawn''s Ballad reappeared in my right hand, the edge alight with aetheric frostfire. And from where I''d grappled the monster, the edge was poised perfectly over his throat. He had no right arm to deny his fate.


    I wrenched Cadell''s head back, baring his obsidian throat of fire and wind to my blade. I could sense his mana weakening, just like mine. "Sylvia was not just a winged lizard, Cadell. I am Grey and Arthur both. I am everything that Sylvia ever desired of me. I am what she saw, a man who could grow beyond his past. It was her words that led to your end."


    I could not see Cadell''s eyes, but I could feel his intent as he struggled in my grip, trying to escape his inevitable fate. But despite it all, I never tasted fear. "Your end will be a worthy sacrifice to appease Agrona," he hissed, suddenly going limp.


    I sensed the approaching attack nearly too late. Spearing toward me faster than sound itself, Cadell''s midnight lance looked realer than the world painted around it. Even amidst the blues and greens and oranges and purples of the artificial Aurora Constellate, that tear in reality promised a death gruesome and slow.


    Instead, I flexed my arms, and engaged two Burst Strikes at once. Cadell howled in pain, the first time I had ever heard him do so. His horn shattered beneath my wrenching grip as my piston arm wrenched it backward from his monstrous skull. At the same time, Dawn''s Ballad flashed white-blue, intersecting with bloody black.


    The shockwave that erupted from Cadell''s severed horn flung us both in opposite directions. The Vritra monster slammed through a clocktower, the sound of rending metal and demonic howls tearing through the night. Blackened droplets of tarry liquid trailed in his wake as he erupted out the other side.


    The sudden explosion of force just barely allowed me to dodge the piercing anger of the midnight lance, but not entirely. The weapon tore a gash along my side, the wound leaking all four elements of ambient mana.


    I spun as I approached the ground, my vision blurry from fatigue and ragged pain. I thrust out my hands, one of them still clutching Cadell''s severed horn, and begged the ambient mana for one more favor.


    A ramp of ice rose into the sky like a gentle hand, stretching for my exhausted body. A weak breeze helped slow me, but my shuddering mana core could only do so much. The ice cracked as I slammed into the structure, before sliding pitifully down to the city street.


    I came to a simple kneel, grasping Dawn''s Ballad as she kept me anchored to the stone. My blade shone purple through the black, tarry blood adorning its gleaming edges. Dark steam rose into the multicolored sky.


    I needed to move. I needed to finish this battle that I''d been fighting for so long.


    But I was so, so tired. Countless wounds marred my body. Jagged claw marks like an animal''s savagery stretched across my chest, leaking what mana reserves I had left. A long tear pulsed agony beneath my ribs where Cadell''s midnight lance had nearly killed me. And alongside those, dozens more wounds slowly sapped my strength. My body¡ªcolored in all four translucent elements of mana¡ªflickered weakly. The gems atop my crown dimmed.


    The rain had never stopped falling, the chill of those droplets of water still worming deep into my bones.


    I knelt there, my breath shuddering. Mana rotation was all that kept me conscious, the utter density of the ambient mana the only thing that kept me in the fight through my dwindling reserves. But even now, I was reaching the end of my strength.


    I peered past my drenched auburn bangs, staring down the street toward the clocktower where Cadell had crashed through. The entire structure was listing precariously, the earth rumbling as it threatened to fall.


    At the periphery of my vision, Regis watched. He still judged me, as he always did. As he always would. But right now¡­ right now, there was a surety of confidence there. A confidence that I could draw into myself.


    My left hand clenched around Cadell''s horn, still gripped tightly. I pulled one leg up, ignoring how my thighs and calves and ankles burned from the effort. The wavering light in my crown dimmed, then solidified once more, even as my manaborne forms drifted away.


    I began to walk. One foot in front of another in front of another, I trudged onward, as I always had. The ghosts of those long past breathed their strength into me as my stride became more sure, as my regality returned.


    I was King Arthur. I was a warrior trained by the asura themselves, honed to a precise point. My body was a blade, my words a decree. I was the Grey Between, Atlas carrying the World. And while that great Titan sometimes knelt, he would never fall.


    I looked up at the clocktower as it groaned, looming forward as it slowly collapsed. I exhaled a foggy breath, then beckoned to the aether.


    Space warped as I stepped forward, bringing me to the toppling tower''s spire. I stood there, the rain beating against my skin as the spire tumbled forward with me atop it. I didn''t move, just basking in the dominion of my strength for a moment, my eyes closed. The world rushed by me as I surfed the collapsing building down to the ground below.


    When it delivered me to the street in a cloud of dust and destruction, tremors rising through my knees and across my body, I allowed myself to chuckle. I clenched my hand around my sword''s hilt, my knuckles going white.


    There is death in the air, I thought. The death of something once great.


    Though the world was already covered in a roiling thunderstorm, some part of me felt, deep in my aching, exhausted mana core, that the true stormfront had yet to tear into this city. There was something yet waiting to drop.


    I took another step forward, sensing my goal.


    I received stares. So, so many stares, all of that familiar mix of awe and fear. Soldiers and mages and civilians, all together, gazing at me with disbelieving eyes. The roads had been relatively clear of people as they gradually evacuated further from the ritual''s epicenter, guided by Kathyln and Blaine''s orders. Most houses and roads had long since seen their last footstep.


    But here, in the wake of the clocktower''s corpse, those fleeing Dicathians had gathered as they ran for their lives. People of every race and class huddled together, trying to fight off the effects of the mana and aether suffusing the air.


    I swept my gaze across them slowly as they all stared mutely, thunder crashing overhead. The trail of dark tar stretched across this street, and I would need to pass through to finish what was started so long ago.


    I saw Kathyln there, her hands trembling as she stared at me with wide eyes. Gone was her icy mask, stripped by the terrible events that had ceaselessly rocked this city. Not far from her, Trodius Flamesworth looked like he had emerged from Hell''s forges. His clothes were in tatters, and some of his perfect hair had been burned down to the scalp. Just like all the others, he trembled before me.


    I locked eyes with Blaine Glayder at their head, wondering what he thought when he stared at me, his jaw slack. Did he see Grey, the conquering madman drenched in blood? Did he fear the murdering warrior who would see it all burn, as they all used to?


    After all, this human king was the one who recognized first what Taci would have turned Dicathen toward. He knew what would become of our continent if a raving deity took its helm, primed for nothing but slaughter.


    But as I stared into Blaine''s eyes, I saw something¡­ Something I didn''t understand. Something I had never seen in the terrified gazes of King Grey''s councilors and allies. I knew that fear he felt. I knew that awe at the strength radiating from my very core. But I didn''t know that emotion, more powerful than anything else.


    The once-monarch''s eyes drifted to the gleaming crown atop my head, the four gemstones pulsing with perfection. Something within the former king of Sapin trembled as he gazed upon my crown of lavender and shadow.


    And then he knelt. Soundlessly, without a creak to his bones, his body bent as he went to the stones, his pride bending before me. Still, he stared up at that aetheric crown as it shone with the light of this World''s dominion.


    And like a breeze that blew through tall grass, they all began to kneel in supplication. Kathyln, Trodius, Alanis, the Chaffers¡­ One by one, it rippled through them all. Every single person in that street fell to their knees as the storm grew quiet, subjects kneeling before a tar-black carpet as it trailed toward a throne.


    And they stared at me, silent in the storm, every single one holding an ember of that unfamiliar look. That look I had never felt as King Grey.


    "King Arthur," Blaine muttered gruffly, his voice sore and pained from strain and yelling. His eyes drifted to the horn clenched in my left hand, then back to my face. "The Vritra¡­ It lies beyond."


    I didn''t respond for a moment, still overwhelmed with confusion. Only one person still stood amidst the supplicating citizens. Regis, his form gleaming silver and black, watched with fond eyes.


    What is this, Regis? I asked, my body frozen. What is this?


    Knowing gold locked with my azure. "It is trust, Arthur," he said quietly. "It is trust and hope. Trust in their king, that he will see them safe. It is the metal from which blades of true loyalty are forged."


    Years ago, before this war had begun in earnest, I made a speech. Blaine and Kathyln had stood at my side then, rather than knelt before me, as I asked the people of Dicathen what inspired loyalty to a country, to a ruler. Long before and a world away, King Grey had grasped the fealty of all through power and might. How could one ever resist him, when millions had fallen beneath his boot? What was there to respect? What was there to love?


    But as I stared into the eyes of my kneeling subjects, each of them quietly professing their fealty, I knew deep in my soul a truth. I was not King Grey, but he was still there, growing alongside me. King Grey was becoming something more, something better. King Arthur could be loved by his subjects. Those he protected would look to him with reverence not just because of his strength, but also his care.


    I exhaled a breath, my body weak as I stood before my kneeling subjects. "Thank you, Lord Glayder," I said, a swell of emotion streaking through me.


    And I continued to walk, trailing those splatters of black tar as they sizzled angrily among the stones. The people of Dicathen parted for me as I moved past them. They whispered my names. Godspell. The King. Their Savior. The Chosen of Epheotus. The mana around me bowed in tune, the presence of a true king inexorable and undeniable.


    Beyond the crowd, a crater larger than a house beckoned, alight with raging black fire.


    I let out a breath as I approached the edge, cementing my resolve. Then I stepped down, following the slope at a leisurely pace.


    Cadell bled at the bottom. The great Scythe''s demonic form had reverted, leaving a broken shell behind. His ruined throat spurted black pitch, the darkness indistinguishable against his ruined smokey armor. His bone-white hair was burned and charred, leaving him nearly bald. Only one horn remained on his head.


    Soulfire sputtered around his wounds, struggling to try and heal them. But with how depleted of mana he was, it only caused the pumping of terrible blood to splatter inconsistently across the ground. He knelt like a man awaiting execution.


    "You''ve accomplished¡­ nothing," he gurgled, his once-gleaming eyes dull as he regarded me. "My death will only¡­ serve the High Sov¡ª"


    His words trailed into a coughing burble, hacking ink from his teeth as he wavered like a candle in the wind.


    "Agrona has already failed," I decreed evenly. Dawn''s Ballad gleamed in my hand as it scored a sparking line through the stones around us. I loped forward like a predator, unbowed by my preternaturally heavy crown. "You will die, Cadell, and the ritual will be broken. Your scheming master''s bid has fallen."


    The bleeding Scythe tilted back his head as he stared up at the sky, allowing the ruined mess of his neck to weep around the too¨Cdeep cut. His ruby-red eyes gleamed once more, some of their light returning for a moment as he stared up into the many-colored storm.


    Staring at Toren, who hovered in the sky above the ritual''s expanding sphere of fractured space.


    "Have you ever¡­" Cadell wheezed, "torn the wings from a phoenix? Of course, you haven''t. The bones¡­ they break so beautifully."


    Despite my exhaustion, a streak of uncertainty chipped the surety of my thoughts. Even as his death approached, the Hand of Agrona didn''t seem scared, daunted or angry or anything. He just seemed¡­ grimly satisfied, as power flocked slowly around Toren in the sky.


    "What do you mean?" I demanded, feeling something prickle along my weary core. I marched forward, my heart gripped by an insidious claw of dread. "Explain, beast."


    Cadell only chuckled, his mana signature flickering. The soulfire, failing to heal his throat, began to waver and die. "I''ll be waiting¡­" he rasped, his voice demented and shredded. "I''ll be waiting to torture you in hell, Leywin. You will know no rest."


    I gnashed my teeth, feeling the sudden urge to move again despite my weariness. I stood before the kneeling Scythe, towering over him as the victor. Yet somehow, even as the phantom of Sylvia seemed to whisper to me from beyond the grave that she was avenged, I felt that something was still wrong: and I knew I could draw no words from this creature.


    "I promised Agrona that I would silence his laughter," I said with a sneer, power suffusing me one last time. "Today, I sever his Hand. His throat will not be far behind."


    I rammed Dawn''s Ballad through Cadell''s ruined plate armor, through his mana core, and out the other side in a spray of black. He wheezed, his eyes leaking blood as I followed through, pressing him to the ground. His throat erupted with a shower of ink as his soulfire healing sputtered out, splashing me in darkness.


    I snarled, pressing the dying Hand of Agrona back into the dirt. The crown on my head¡ªnow far too heavy to still bear¡ªscattered on purple particles.


    But the beast was not yet dead. With his last, weak breaths, Cadell''s bony claws gripped the gleaming violet of Dawn''s Ballad. He hauled himself closer to me, before gripping my ruined shirt with ridged fingers and pulling me close.


    "So arrogant," he wheezed, the light draining from his eyes like blood down a whirlpool. "Always¡­ Always towards His end."


    And then a new star brightened the night sky, pushing back against the thunderstorm. The ambient mana trembled with a strength among the greatest I had ever sensed.


    Toren was anointed with burning runes and golden light. He was nearly too bright to look at as he drew on some power as terrible as the sun, his focus fixed on the expanding ritual.


    His Third Phase, I realized with a sudden start, my attention torn from the dying Scythe for a moment as I stared up at Spellsong. He dripped with a true asura''s molten gold as the ambient mana sang around him.


    Cadell died with a black smile on his corpse.