Toren Daen

I barely managed to push aside the attack as it tried to clip my vitals. I stumbled, my senses going haywire as this strange new mist enveloped me from all sides. My senses constricted as if I were shoved into a tiny box, all light, sound, and touch abandoning me and leaving me dry. Empty.

I gasped as something hard impacted my gut. My telekinetic shroud splintered but didn’t break. I was thrown across the roof, rolling over the concrete. The mist swirled, casting me in even deeper darkness.

What in the hell?

“Toren!” Aurora’s voice thundered through my head. But it was muted like a dozen blankets covered my ears. “This mist is–”

I raised my hand to ward off another attack, deflecting a flying knife with a backhand on pure instinct. But something I hadn’t sensed smashed into the back of my knee, making my stance buckle. I stumbled forward, and I got the first glimpse of something solid in the fog. Karsien’s masked face appeared for the barest of instants.

“Do you know what the Doctrination preached when they paraded themselves around?” the Rat asked. His voice came from every direction, assaulting my enhanced hearing.

His fist–wrapped in the same swirling mist that was robbing me of my senses–connected with my jaw in a pulping uppercut. I tried to roll with the punch, but my broken stance made me lean into the attack instead. The shroud around my jaw crunched as my teeth clacked together. I saw red as I hurtled upward.

Another barely outlined face popped into my vision. Feeling panicked, I thrust my hand out, throwing a flurry of soundshot at the appearing figure. But as my attack ripped through the vague outline, leaving penny-sized holes that swirled with fog, I realized the ploy too late.

A mist clone.

I felt something grasp my ankle. Then I was slammed back into the ground.

Crystalline lattices flashed over my body at the impact, a small crater appearing in the stone beneath me. The breath was ripped from my lungs at the crash.

“They said all they did was for the lessers under their care,” Karsien’s voice said. It sounded like he was right beside me, and all at once far away.

I reached my hand out, trying to feel for something. To steady myself with anything.

And I brushed the threads tying Aurora to her relic.

For an instant, it was only me and the threads. In the infinite time before sensation pulsed over those cords, I realized something. I’d always thought that the heartfire tying my bond to her relic was like a rope. Aurora piloted her craft like a puppetmaster, these whips of heartfire her puppet strings.

But that wasn’t true at all. In that moment where I could feel nothing else, the warmth in those intangible cords conveyed the truth. They weren’t puppet strings.

They were veins carrying blood. A highway for sustenance and aether. I felt understanding on the tip of my tongue. A truth I was just about to–

Sensation returned to me like a heatwave. Sight and sound and surety washed over me. The weight I’d felt on my telepathic tether to Lady Dawn vanished like fog under the glare of the sun.

Move forward, Toren! Aurora said. Even as my hands left the relic’s threads–veins?--our connection was no longer burdened by the mist.

I scrambled to the side, narrowly avoiding another attack that impacted right where my head would have been. I lashed out with an unfocused nimbus of fire, attempting to burn away the mist around me.

Except it didn’t. The mist seemed to move on its own, subtly avoiding my scalding fire, then surged back into place once my spell puttered out.

This is Elshire Mist, Aurora said over our tether. I do not know how this Rat has gained access to such mana arts, but for now, it is irrelevant. You must escape this covering. It will continue to rob you of your senses. And– my bond cut off, then quickly spoke again. Duck, then counter to your right!

Following her instructions, I dropped, then threw a sound-clad fist toward my right side. Another mist clone was disemboweled as my hands traveled through it.

I thought you could only sense what I do, I thought, my eyes darting around the mist. It seemed endless.

That is true, my bond’s voice said against my ear. But I know to pick through the contrast and spot things you may have missed.

“You claim to be better than the Doctrination,” Karsien’s voice resounded around me. “Yet you do the exact same as them. Drawing in other powers. Using the authority of someone beyond you to justify it. Claiming it is all for those beneath you.”

I spat out a wad of blood as the damage to my jaw healed over. My eyes searched through the mist, but it was as if I was a manaless human again. Only my sense of heartfire remained fully intact, and even that was flaky and uncertain.

Elshire mist, I thought with apprehension. The same mist that had covered the Elshire Forest for millennia; protecting the elves within from expansionist humans. Its abilities to thwart perception and disrupt the senses were legendary.

Karsien had improved. Maybe even advanced one of his emblems.

I felt tempted to fall into my First Phase. I had no doubt I could rip this spell apart if I did through sheer might. The phoenixes were the ones to plant and nurture the Elshire Forest in the first place. And under the guise of my Will, I knew this challenge would offer no struggle.

Above and to the left! Aurora said through my mind.

I pivoted on my feet, feeling a flash of lifeforce from the direction she indicated. The Rat dropped in, swinging a dagger of solid mist. I unsheathed Oath in a flourish, imbuing it with a heated edge.

I parried the Rat’s precise cut. I felt more than heard as his dagger cracked from the sparking impact; my own magic and better weapon overpowering his own. I then tried to counter with a point-blank fireball. But not soon enough: my quarry simply melded back into the surrounding fog.

“You respond to strength with strength, Lord Daen,” Karsien’s mocking voice came from all sides. “How do you expect to help the people that we care for when you employ the same methods as those you fight?”

My hand tightened on my saber. I felt anger rising in my stomach at the Rat’s goading words. The accusation that I was no better than my enemies stirred something dark in my stomach. I felt my intent rise to match it.

“You want to know how the djinn maintained our peace?” the dying words of J’ntarion said over and over in my head. “It begins with understanding. And you are already on that path.”

I raised Oath high, inspecting the red-patterned metal in the barest light. Orange runes flashed near the hilt, inscribed with utter precision.

I could engage my Phoenix Will and rip this veil apart in an instant, I thought with clenched teeth. But then I would be exactly what Karsien accused me of being.

It was true that I’d begun to default on my personal strength more and more as I grew in power. The route of threatening others into submission was simple and effective; if brutal. And I knew, deep down, that I could not ignore the reality of this world. I wanted to institute change, but as my most recent charade with that Jasper bastard showed, it would be a long, long road.

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Perhaps I would compromise on my principles one day. But that was separate from changing one’s principles to accommodate the truth. What Karsien accused was different from growing in the face of struggle.

I threw Oath to the side. The patterned metal disappeared into the darkness, leaving my hands bare. I settled into an old, familiar stance, calling on my magic. Mana thrummed as it slowly coalesced in my hands, forming a long dagger of solid fire. I held it in a reverse grip close to my head.

It had been a long time since I’d used this fighting style; the first one Aurora had ever trained me in. Yet I was ready.

The fog seemed to settle for a moment. Though my sense of intent was utterly blanketed by the Elshire mist around me, I got the feeling the Rat was not expecting this move.

“I am more than what you say I am, Karsien,” I said. Though I could not see her, I felt Aurora’s reassuring hand on my shoulder. “And I will prove it to you. To the people of this world.”

Shadows flickered and danced as a dozen mirrored silhouettes formed out of the mist around me. Through it all, I attuned my hearing; but not for normal sound.

The clones rushed me. I lashed out with a few telekinetic pushes, sending several of the clones tumbling away. Two swung their daggers at me in tandem. I raised my own knife of solid fire, parrying the swipe of one while simultaneously shifting to let the other skate past me.

I grabbed the formless arm of the mist clone that had missed, then threw it at the other even as it tried to reposition itself for another swing.

Behind you to your bottom right, Aurora said in my head, her voice stern.

I jumped to avoid another clone lunging for my ankles, then lashed myself downward with a telekinetic pull to avoid an uncountable number of wind blades and water bullets arcing toward me. I coalesced a shroud of sound over my shoe as it smashed through the mist clone that had failed the tackle. When my feet hit the ground, a deep, rumbling vibration traveled through the roof as my sound mana smashed atom after atom together. The sudden shaking made many of the clones stumble.

I launched myself forward with a mindfire stamp toward where I sensed the flash of lifeforce weaving through the mist. I trailed burning embers as I blurred forward, my flaming dagger poised to cut at the Rat.

Karsien’s eyes flashed with surprise as I came upon him in the mist, my weapon ready to carve him in two. He raised his twin steel daggers in a deft parry, my mana sparking at the impact.

“I know more of you than you think,” I whispered, grabbing his arm quick as a snake. I maneuvered to the side, slashing upward with my flaming dagger in a reverse grip. Karsien bent awkwardly at the waist, trying to avoid the attack, but I was too fast. After my First Sculpting, no normal man could contend with me in physical combat.

A mist clone grabbed at my arm as it seared toward Karsien’s face. Another tried to drive a knife into my back, the weapon splintering on my telekinetic shroud. And still another tried to wrench my leg to the side.

But it didn’t deter me. My flaming edge cut upward, slicing across Karsien’s masked face.

He stumbled through the mist, his heartbeat rising rapidly. The Rat covered his face with a hand, breathing heavily.

His mask fell in two pieces to the ground, seared perfectly in two. Karsien’s burn-scarred face looked up at me, an expression of raw fury plastered there.

I pulsed outward with a nimbus of vibrating sound. The distortion dissipated every mist clone grabbing onto me.

I settled back into stance. “You think I’ll become what you were,” I said. “A man seeking vengeance above all else. Where your values and morality slowly, slowly slipped to the side; skewed by your hatred.”

I saw a reflection of myself in Karsien’s eyes. He’d ventured into the Relictombs, looking for glory and fame. And once his conceptions had been shattered by Dornar Joan’s cruelty, he’d shifted more and more toward the methods of his enemies. Covert attacks. Political moves. And stealthy cunning.

Where did the care for the unadorned of East Fiachra start and where did it end? How much of it was justification for his relentless campaign against those who had wronged him?

Was he a protector, or a tyrant?

In the instant of Karsien’s mask falling free, I understood him. He breathed heavily, seeming to draw the mists into himself, then back out again. My makeshift dagger glowed.

Karsien launched himself back at me, his steel daggers flashing. As he closed in, a mist clone erupted from his body that wore a familiar face.

I saw the face of Benny’s mother as she wielded a dagger; poised to strike through my chest. I exhaled steam, then carefully guided the mist clone out of the way. Karsien’s arm erupted through his spell, seeking to rip out my stomach. I grabbed it again, then threw him across the roof.

A dozen more clones popped into existence around me. Except none bore the Rat’s face.

Benny. Greahd. Naereni. Hofal. Wade. Trelza. And Kori, the youngest survivor of Mardeth’s torture. All looked at me with expressions of hatred; knives poised.

I exhaled, then took a single step forward. The mist clones stabbed at me with their weapons. They tried to pull me to the ground. They tried to rip my body apart.

My telekinetic shroud turned away the majority of their attacks; the crystalline barrier sparking with lattice-like light. More and more knives aimed for the damaged spots, my shroud unable to repair itself in time.

And still, I walked forward. The mana in my limbs empowered my physique beyond what these mana puppets could hope to achieve. Though they tried to keep me back; tried to weigh me down, I pushed forward with a singular purpose.

I marched through a cloud of thrashing knives toward Karsien. I could not see him, but his thrumming lifeforce told me exactly where he was. A knife pierced through my shroud, scoring a deep cut across my flank. My own blood sprayed over the perpetrator: a clone wearing the face of Wade. Another thrust into the meat of my calf, wielded by a mockery of Benny. The glee on its face told me the truth.

I grunted at the pain, but my lifeforce healed each wound as they came. For every cut made, a flash of orange and purple smoothed it over without blemish. The pain was absurd; but I’d faced worse. I felt my reserves of heartfire dwindle at a rapid pace. More than I’d ever dared use in one instance. Still, I pushed onward.

I trailed blood as I finally walked through this blender of familiar faces and unfamiliar expressions. A gash opened along my side, tearing through my well-made tunic. Another opened on my arm, nearly severing the tendon. And still another trailed blood on my back. Each one burned in a flash of pain before my healing smoothed it over.

My legs finally shook as a knife of mist embedded itself in my thigh, my walk finally halting as my leg buckled. I turned to the clone who had done it.

It was Kori. A mimicry of the blithe-broken girl stared back at me. Where all the other clones bore perverse grins stretching across their faces, Karsien seemed unable to give this solemn child anything but her own, dead-eyed stare. Her patchy hair fell over her face in broken waves. Even in this cruel swarm, Karsien could not deny what this girl had been through.

I pushed the clone away with a gentle yet firm hand. The gash in my thigh was slower to heal. I was dangerously close to drawing on my lifespan to suture anything more.

But as I brushed the girl away, the expressions on the faces of the clones shifted to something more peaceful. No longer broken vengeance. Then they disappeared, subsumed back into the mist around them. Through my heady state of mind, I almost imagined they were spirits accepting the peace of the Beyond.

I trudged the last few steps to Karsien, drenched in my own blood. My clothes were in tatters; the unending stream of knives having whittled my once-pristine garb down to little more than rags. Footprints of crimson traced the reckless path I had walked, each progressively more gruesome.

My breathing was short and weak as I finally reached the Rat. I felt hazy from blood loss. Though I’d regenerated each wound, the compounding effects were making my consciousness stilted. My heartfire flared dangerously in my chest.

Karsien pressed the tip of his knife against the underside of my jaw. There was no telekinetic shroud to block it any longer. A single drop of blood trailed down my throat, and the cut didn’t heal over. “I could kill you now, Dicathian,” he said slowly, his burn-scarred face shadowed. “End the threat you would be.”

Then he stook rigidly, his eyes darting to the side, attempting to look at something behind him. But he couldn’t afford to turn his head.

Oath hovered behind Karsien’s neck, the metal held aloft by my telekinetic emblem. Its edge trailed blood as the tip bit into the Rat’s spine.

“The first thing you taught me,” I said tiredly, raising a hand and gripping Karsien’s dagger in my fingers, “Was the art of misdirection.”

The sharp edge of Karsien’s knife cut deeply into the meat of my fingers as I pulled it away from my throat. The Rat seemed stunned by the entire interaction, his burned face displaying something besides anger.

“I won’t let myself become what you were,” I said hoarsely. Darrin Ordin thought me a monster. But I would not let myself become one. “I won’t let my principles break under the weight of this world. No matter how heavy. I swear it.”

The chains on my arm flashed a deep red at the words. Karsien stumbled back a few steps, something unreadable in his eyes. Was that fear? Awe? Or maybe regret?

The mist around me vanished, the atmosphere absorbing it back into the mana. Karsien opened his mouth, then turned away. He leapt off the roof of the Doctrination temple, disappearing into the night.

I watched him go with sorrowful eyes. Every inch of my body ached; traces of phantom cuts from the faces of those I cared for seared into my memory. My fingers leaked blood in a steady stream.

The Unseen World washed my vision. I turned limply to Aurora, opening my mouth. Then I topped forward.

The shade caught me in gentle arms, lowering my aching form to the ground with care. She brushed a few strands of hair out of my eyes as my consciousness wavered. “Children,” she said with a note of sadness in her voice. “Children; the lot of you.”

I coughed. “Maybe we are,” I said, feeling tired. The stars slowly showed themselves as the storm clouds finally fled. “Maybe we are all just children.”