Toren Daen

I settled my breathing, the adrenaline pumping through my veins slowly washing away. My focus, which narrowed under the intensity of the fight, gradually broadened as I came down from a battle high.

I spat out a little bit of blood, already feeling the cuts along my lip healing. I wrenched Oath from the ground nearby, inspecting the blade.

It was as pristine as ever, minus the chip near the base of the blade. I still felt a pang of sorrow every time I looked at that obvious blemish.

Sevren had his back to the massive corpse of the boss we’d just defeated. It was a massive, earth-laden worm, and had been an absolute pain in the ass to kill. The thing was fast, smart, and had understood its advantages. In this zone of endless islands, those who controlled the ground were king.

The worm, before Sevren and I had managed to actually kill it, had an irritating habit of hopping from island to island, leaving behind some sort of aether-based spatial spell that made the floating plots of earth we stood on slowly unravel beneath our feet. The fight had quickly become a game of cat and mouse; the worm trying to erase enough islands to let us fall.

It had failed, of course. Sevren and I were unmatched in our mobility, and anything that thought it could run from us–especially when we worked together–was dead wrong.

Since passing into the silver core, I’d expected an increase in difficulty in the Relictombs. Stronger monsters, more difficult challenges, the works. And while I thought the average aether beast Sevren and I had faced in this zone was stronger than the ones I’d faced before the undead zone, this island-hopping adventure had acted more as a test of our reflexes and quick thinking rather than abject combat ability.

“I think I’m coming up with a theory,” I said as I stared at the open sky, “Of the most optimal amount of legs something should have.”

Sevren pulled himself to his feet, stretching out his back. He gave me a raised brow at my words. “And how, exactly, have you come up with this ‘theory?’”

I slowly loped toward the white-haired striker. The ascension portal shimmered nearby, casting a purple light over everything. “If something has more than four legs, it’s already past the acceptance range,” I said, thinking of all my horrid encounters with insects. Facing off against the hivemother’s horde in the Clarwood Forest, fighting legions of flying beetles in that one desert zone with the Unblooded Party, and that irritating scorpion boss we’d killed. “But animals need to have at least two legs as well. Too few and you get weird.”

Sevren shot a glance at the worm carcass he’d been using as a backrest. It didn’t have any legs. He looked unamused. “And I’m assuming this theory of yours accounts for that undead serpent you killed, too?”

I spat. “That was the worst offender,” I said, only partially joking. “Two to four legs. That’s all that’s allowed.”

Sevren smiled slightly. “But what if an aether beast has three legs? It could be bipedal with a leg sticking out of its back or something.”

I paused. “That is a horrible image to think about. And now we’re going to have to fight something like that eventually because you said it.”

“You’re welcome,” Sevren said, staring at the ascension portal. “Are we going to rest a bit before moving on, or?”

I shook my head. “No need. The next zone won’t have enemies to fight or challenges to overcome.”

Before Sevren could ask more, I walked up to the purple pane of rippling energy. I couldn’t see through to the other side, but I knew deep in my bones what awaited. “I’m going through,” I said. “See you on the other side.”

I stepped into the pane of light.

The town zone had changed again since I’d last been in it. Each time I entered this zone of the Relictombs, the architecture had shifted and grounded itself into something more closely resembling my previous life. Houses built in a suburban-style were flanked by perfectly trimmed lawns. A sidewalk stretched all along the mock-street for about a block, before stretching into endless oblivion far off. Rolling hills and copses of trees dotted the far-off landscape.

But there was once again a change to this place. Instead of simple suburban homes, those in a Sehz-Clarian style interweaved among the modern sprawl. It should’ve looked janky and out of place. The architecture in Fiachra was flowery and reminiscent of Renaissance styles crossed with an almost utilitarian emphasis on vertical lines.

Somehow, the two completely opposing styles meshed together well. Two-story Fiachran homes were bordered by structures that wouldn’t be out of place in an eighties movie, and it worked.

Sevren stepped through a moment later. There was an irritated cast on his face, no doubt because I went on ahead without him, but that slowly washed away as he took in the zone before him.

“I’ve been here before,” he said breathily. “It looks a bit different from when I was here last, but…”

“This is why I rejected your offer to ascend together the first time,” I said, turning back to the street. “Every ascent I go on, I travel through this zone. The Tombs puts it in my path.” I gestured to the many houses lining the street. “It changes every time, sure, but it’s the same place. But there’s something here even you would have missed.”

I felt that strange omniscient presence pressing down on me from all sides, same as I always did. Sevren didn’t seem to notice it, but I had to restrain the urge to raise my shoulders as my spine tingled. “This place has your answers, Sevren. I just need to find the person who will give them to you.”

Sevren gave me a strange look. “You’ve shown me so many anomalies already, Toren,” he said. “I’m not sure what else you can throw at me that would surprise me.”

I smiled, my mind reaching into my core. “Remember those words,” I added jovially, slipping into my Acquire Phase. I felt my cheeks burn as feather stem runes appeared under my eyes, their warmth like hot coals. My chain tattoo glowed softly, superimposing itself over my coat.

Sevren took a step back as pressure pulsed from my body involuntarily, the ambient mana quaking as power suffused my being. His heartfire jumped in his chest, visible to me now as a plume of red fire.

The Will meshing with my mind alerted my Bond, who was still resting fitfully. She awoke, for lack of a better word, as her own thoughts brushed my own.

Welcome back, Aurora, I said with a hint of amusement. If you still need rest, I can manage this myself. I just need to search for something, and the capabilities of my Will are needed for that.

“No, Toren,” the phoenix shade said, sounding slightly tired. I could feel her reading my thoughts, recognizing my plan. “I am well to assist you in something so trivial. And I have questions of my own which must be answered.”

I felt some of the burden on my mind shift as the asuran spirit shouldered some of the weight. Absently, I wondered how long I could maintain my First Phase with my heightened physique and silver core reserves of mana.

Nearly indefinitely if I’m careful, I realized with a bit of surprise. With my semi-asuran physique and Lady Dawn’s mind suffusing my own, my Acquire Phase was barely a strain at all anymore.

My sense for lifeforce expanded dramatically as I sunk into the Will. I turned in a slow circle, ignoring Sevren’s focused intensity as I scanned the zone.

I walked forward slowly, my feet echoing on the pavement of the quiet zone. My eyes tracked all around, searching for my target as my ears listened for heartbeats.

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It took me a while to find what I was searching for. But eventually, I did.

A sputtering spark of heartfire popped and simmered in empty space, burning near the edge of the houses. It reminded me of an engine trying and failing to start, sparks flying as the motor engaged uselessly.

“It is so weak,” Aurora said with sadness in her tone. “It is the last, gasping breath of a dying man.”

It might not need to be, I said, flexing my fingers. Sevren had followed me as I walked, sensing the need for silence in my search. My powers of healing aren’t fully fleshed out yet. There’s a chance here.

I knelt down in front of the invisible space, reaching out a hand. As I expected, I felt warm, wrinkled skin under my palm, even though it appeared I was grasping at air. The invisible djinn didn’t react.

I focused on my lifeforce, humming slightly to help myself reach the right rhythm. My own heartfire, which had changed from red to an orange-purple in the aftermath of my Sculpting, flowed along my hands as I called to it.

There was something natural about what I was doing. Under the influence of my First Phase, I could prod at my own power at a deeper level. Lifeforce, to a fundamental degree, desired the continued existence of the body it was tied to. I just drew that desire to the surface, unearthing the depths of the body.

The djinn’s own heartfire responded instantly to my own call. I was startled by how quickly it jumped, as if meeting an old friend. Every other healing I’d done was akin to coaxing a frightened animal from an alleyway. But this djinn’s lifeforce practically surged to meet my own with minimal effort.

Aurora watched with determined silence. She couldn’t guide my hand here as she did with mana. My heartfire was mine and mine alone.

I frowned as the djinn’s guttering sparks quickly became a roaring bonfire, the sympathetic link between us functioning better than I expected. I quietly retracted my own hand, feeling that my work was nearly done. But there was something here I was missing. Something that scratched at the edges of my brain, telling me I was forgetting a crucial detail.

Then the invisibility spell came down, allowing me to see the results of my work. The djinn, who had been decrepit and withered like the gnarliest tree root, now had smoother features as lifeforce suffused his body. His hair became fuller and lush, suffused with a spark of youth once more.

Sevren gasped behind me in shock. “An ancient mage,” he said with awe. “Alive? Here?”

The djinn’s eyes, which once had a maddened, darting motion to them, now bore a different kind of haze. One I recognized well: that of an exhausted man waking from a long, deep sleep.

“Andravhor?” he said quietly, blinking. I felt Aurora’s shock as the name entered my ears. “Where am I, old friend? I felt your touch calling me, but I–”

The pink-skinned man had been in the fetal position. He slowly moved, trying to get a handle on his surroundings. I gently laid a hand on the djinn’s shoulder-who had once rambled like a madman–trying to help steady him.

His pale, purple eyes tracked my arm up to my body, then centered on my face.

I felt exposed. Those eyes peered into my own, peeling me back layer by layer. My skin crawled as I felt my protections unconsciously wrench away. Skin, muscle, bone, mana, lifeforce? It all burned under this casual glance.

The djinn’s eyes hardened, and he pushed my hand away as he pushed himself to his feet. “You’re not Andravhor,” he said with a slight snarl. He pushed himself to his feet unsteadily, ignoring Sevren Denoir. “You have his body. Have his touch. But those are not my friend’s eyes.”

“This djinn knew my husband,” Aurora said, oblivious to the hostility the djinn was displaying toward me. “Ask him his name, Toren. I must know it! Perhaps he obtained that phoenix feather from the Hearth in the time since my leave? He may know the fate of my people in more detail than you!”

“I know the name,” I said slowly. I could feel Aurora’s anticipation and excitement through our bond, barely restrained. “But I’m afraid I don’t understand what–”

The djinn put a hand over my sternum. He was almost gentle in his touch as the heel of his palm brushed against my ribs. Deep violet spellforms covered the ancient mage’s entire body, and they glowed as they contacted my chest. His eyes were fire. “Reveal yourself, parasite,” he said with a hiss. I felt a mounting sense of dread, instinctually reaching for the hand. But I was too slow. The djinn pushed.

I lurched backward, feeling a tearing sensation wrench across my mind. I yelled in confusion and pain as Aurora’s mind was ripped away from my own, leaving deep troughs across my thoughts. Vaguely, I saw a vision of Aurora’s asuran spirit burst from my back, the Unseen World flickering in and out of perception. She looked like a butterfly being forced from its chrysalis far too soon.

I fell out of my First Phase as my concentration wavered, pops of fire and sound bursting around me as I struggled to contain my mana. I fell to my knees, dry heaving from the horrid sensation of having my psyche fractured. What just happened? I thought emptily, clenching my hands around the grass as I tried to come to grips with my situation. My heart beat like a pounding drum in my ears.

“Release her now!” I heard a familiar voice say from above me. “Or I’ll drive this dagger into your heart, insights be damned!”

Sevren? I thought woozily, looking up.

I froze. The Unseen World half-clouded my vision, casting everything with a strange misty light. Yet the darkness didn’t obscure everything as I was used to.

The djinn held Aurora’s glowing form in a taught grip, his fingers grasping her pale throat. Her reddish hair flared wildly as she snarled, her hands trying to pry the rune-covered fingers apart. The djinn’s eyes were boring into the hole in her chest an expression of utter disdain on his face.

Sevren held Promise to the djinn’s throat in turn. His teal eyes were hard as he pressed the point against the ancient mage’s carotid, a single drop of purplish blood dripping down his dusty robes.

Aurora? I called out, feeling disoriented and confused. The pieces I saw kept trying to come together to make a full picture, but somehow failed at the last step. Aurora, what’s happening?

Our Bond was still there. I wasn’t sure it could even be broken. But our connection was muted. There was a strain on our tether as if someone had dropped a dozen tons of metal onto a thin wire, begging it to snap.

“Let the Bond go,” Sevren repeated, “And I won’t end you here.”

Stormclouds were gathering in the distance. Thunder rumbled.

“Andravhor was my husband,” Lady Dawn choked out. “My love. Until the day he died.” Her eyes flashed a deeper red, her body glowing brighter for an instant, but she was unable to escape the grip of the ancient mage.

She’s too weakened from my Sculpting, I thought, recognizing the problem. I wasn’t sure the asuran shade even needed air, but whatever the djinn was doing was hurting her.

That centered my broken concentration. This djinn was hurting Aurora. I growled, hauling myself to my feet. I fell into my First Phase again on instinct, except my Bond was nowhere to temper its deluge of insight.

I clenched my hand, ready to call down a hailstorm of plasma.

Then the djinn shoved Aurora away, leaving her to drift slightly as she rubbed at her neck with an expression of fury. He ignored Sevren’s dagger, turning on his heel to observe the far-off gathering thunderstorm.

I ignored the djinn, rushing over to Lady Dawn’s shade-like body. There were marks around her throat where the ancient mage had held her fast. Now that the djinn had released her, I felt the weight on our mental tether disappear.

“Aurora,” I said with heaving breaths. “Are you safe? Hurt in any way?”

Stupid, I thought, noticing the strangle marks around her pale neck. Of course, she’s hurt.

Sevren clenched his dagger in a white-knuckled grip, looking between the djinn and Aurora in quick glances. The fact that he could somehow see my Bond was trivial in the face of this danger.

“I am well, Contractor,” she said aloud. “It will not happen again,” she said, her teeth bared in anger at the djinn, whose back was turned to us.

“I’m sorry for not trying to help. I was–”

“I know what it is like to have your mind torn, Toren,” she said, not taking her burning eyes away from the ancient mage. “You cannot be faulted for inaction.”

Still, I thought to myself. Sevren was the one who stepped up. I collapsed on the ground.

My First Phase pulsed with warmth across my skin. I felt my fingers clench in anger as I slowly settled my mind.

I’d suspected my healing could soothe mental wounds as well as physical ones. While lifeforce was ultimately of the body, it tied the soul to the Vessel. Under that line of thinking, there was a connection to the mind somewhere along that thread.

I’d healed this djinn of his madness, and his first reaction was to attack me?

I opened my mouth to speak, but the djinn’s words cut me off before I could.

“So I have failed, then,” he said, surprisingly sorrowful. “My sacred duty, as last of the Watchers, is null and void.” He turned, looking at us with deep purple eyes. I felt my shoulders tense as that probing sensation tugged at my soul. “And an asura has entered the Tombs of my people, intent on stealing our insight.”