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Discordant Note | The Beginning After the End SI
Chapter 129: To Change the Source

Chapter 129: To Change the Source

Toren Daen

We flew for several long minutes, the ground passing away beneath us in a blur. My bond kept lower in the sky as the tenuous pulse of her heartfire cord lulled me into a light sleep. As I dozed, flashes of the destruction I’d wrought on the swarm of vicars surfaced in my mind. So many echoing heartbeats snuffed out by my hand.

In that half-conscious state of mine, I found a mote of regret. I didn’t revel in killing. The earthen part of my soul still viewed human life as precious.

But what those vicars had been doing… that fundamental human side had drained away in their malice. Just like Kaelan Joan. Like Lawrent and Dornar.

What I’d done was necessary.

“I’m going to land now,” Aurora said over our bond and aloud. I lifted my head from her warm, plated back, blinking to adjust to the light. “We can afford to go no further.”

Lady Dawn’s massive avian form dipped lower, angling toward a copse of trees. Her wings made a strange scything sound as they shifted, a powerful whirring sound emanating from within the djinnic construct. “Why now?” I asked, strengthening my grip around my bond’s neck as she lowered.

Aurora touched down with impossible finesse, making sure not to jostle or crush Sevren or Mawar who were clenched in each large talon. She released them gently into a nearby patch of grass before stepping back. Both were unconscious.

I slid off her neck, falling a good few stories before my feet hit the ground. I turned around, looking up at the majestic form of the altered djinn relic.

“We are at the edge of the Redwater battlefield,” Aurora said, the massive raven-like head peering around the small clearing we’d touched down in. The trees were sparse, and strange red lines ran along their veins. Indications of the Redwater’s effects on the plant life. “My asuran signature is partially masked by this construct, and further so by the aura of death surrounding that asuran battlefield. But as I’ve inhabited this construct more fully, I struggle to restrain the notes of my presence that would give away what I am.”

I sighed, running a hand along the large brass-like feathers. I settled my mind into the thick cord of heartfire running from my core to the djinn relic.

I still struggled to comprehend what exactly I’d done in that last split instant as Mardeth had approached. I’d wrenched control of the djinnic relic away from my bond. Then I’d changed the source of the relic’s power. From a muted shade to the pulsing feather that contained Aurora’s everything.

These lines of lifeforce are not just tethers, I understood. No longer did the feather in my core flood my sternum with mana. Instead, that power traveled along these heartfire threads. They are both veins carrying blood and strings vibrating with music. And I changed the tune and energy flowing through.

Aurora wasn’t just puppeteering this relic any longer. Some part of her truly inhabited the machined bird in front of me. I doubted she could stray far from me, however. The relic was supported by my own lifeforce, and this simple cord was already extremely draining on my reserves of aether.

“I’ll need to change the source again then, won’t I?” I said with a hint of sadness. I could feel the note of sorrow my phoenix bond felt. Once she’d gained control of the small songbird, she’d experienced a taste of true freedom for the first time in an age. And now she was closer than ever to having a body once more, only to be forced to relinquish it.

Aurora lowered her head, nuzzling my chest with a beak that could swallow me whole. It glinted a deep bronze color. “We will have time to work with this in the Relictombs. It is not as if I shall never feel the wind under my feathers again.”

As my bond’s large head moved away with a trilling noise, I gently grasped the ropes of heartfire pulsing from my sternum. I couldn’t see them, but they had a presence that was impossible to ignore. I pulled them from my core, feeling as if I was unplugging a cord from a wall outlet. Immediately, the large djinnic relic began to shift and change as its source of power was severed.

It shrunk down to the size of a feather once more as feathers folded in on themselves, steam wafting off the brass-textured brooch. I knelt down, picking it up as I let the threads disperse.

I felt my exhaustion once again. Though I hadn’t used much mana in my fight against the vicars, my heartfire was another matter. I was once again on the verge of touching the core of my energy; the bits that compromised my lifespan. It wasn’t as worrisome as the aftermath of my duel with Karsien. My spare reserves had grown since then as I stressed my ability, but I still needed to be careful.

I shuffled over to the prone bodies of Sevren and Mawar. The Denoir heir had fallen asleep as my bond flew us away, the stresses of the battle and shock from his injury finally overwhelming him.

I knelt at his side, doing a cursory inspection of his burned shoulder. I didn’t know if I could regrow my own limbs, but I was absolutely certain I wouldn’t be able to give my friend another arm. I felt guilt clench in my gut as I recognized what he’d lost in this foray of mine.

I did a bare check of his wounds once more with my healing, poking and prodding at the stump of his shoulder. When I was sure he was relatively at peace, I shifted to look over Mawar.

She was covered in bruises, gashes, and locations where Mardeth’s sludge had eaten through her body. I took a deep breath, stoking my lifeforce as I laid my hand over her sternum. I performed cursory healing with what I could spare. After all, my healing burned both my own soultether and that of the target to achieve the desired effect.

When I was finally finished giving first aid, I collapsed against a tree, utterly exhausted. We’d barely escaped Mardeth’s grasp, but now we didn’t have our swiftsure horses. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

As I slowly drifted off to sleep, I considered the differences between this world and Earth.

It’s the light, I thought groggily as I slowly succumbed to my exhaustion. On Earth, there was light everywhere. Every street was lined with tall lamps. Even in the middle of the night, the glowing power of human infrastructure banished the shadows. But in the untamed world of Alacrya, I cannot rely on that surety.

My thoughts held me as I finally passed into the land of dreams.

A ray of sunlight scraped against my eyelids. I groaned, feeling my body aching as I slowly awoke.

Rays of light streamed through the trees overhead, littering the ground with spots of color. It took me a few moments to remember why I was collapsed in a grove without shelter.

“Finally awake?” a ragged voice asked nearby.

I stiffened, turning to see Sevren Denoir. The striker’s white hair seemed to have dulled to an empty silver, his hollow eyes staring at me intently. The place where his arm used to be seemed to scald me. I averted my eyes quickly, feeling ashamed.

I pulled myself forward, trying to think of something to say. “I am,” I said awkwardly. “What about you? Are you… doing alright? After yesterday?”

I winced, remembering the phantom sensation of Oath cutting through the Denoir heir’s arm. “I’m doing better,” he said gruffly. “Not sure what will happen now,” he said a bit emptily, looking at where his arm used to be.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “If it weren’t for me taking you along, you wouldn’t have lost your arm. And I should’ve been able to heal you, but–”

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“That doesn’t matter right now,” the white-haired striker said, cutting me off with a hint of impatience. “I don’t care about my arm. It’s not a big deal, and I was the one who insisted on joining you. But you were able to change the source of those threads, right?”

I looked back at the highblood mage with furrowed brows, opening my mouth to protest. He’d lost an arm because I had been unable to protect him. The fact that he was so quick to throw himself away–both his lifespan and body–made me feel even worse for what I’d brought upon him.

The Denoir heir must have seen the objections on my face, because his gaunt features hardened. “Did you?” he demanded more firmly.

I deflated. “I was,” I said quietly. “The–” I chanced a glance at Mawar’s sleeping form, nervous about what she might overhear. “The device was able to accept a different input. You saw a bit of that before we finally got out.”

Sevren smiled softly, thumping the back of his head against a tree. “I was right,” he said, chuckling. “I made a difference, didn’t I?”

I swallowed uncertainly. “You did. I wouldn’t have figured it out otherwise.” And I would have had to leave you behind if I hadn’t, a dark part of myself acknowledged.

“Mardeth destroyed your dagger,” Sevren said, shifting his stump of a shoulder. The man seemed to realize belatedly that there wasn’t a right arm to use. He sighed, groping at his belt awkwardly with his left hand. He pulled a vial of something shimmering green and red. “But I managed to take this in exchange.”

I blinked, mesmerized by the swirl of neon green and deep scarlet. “That’s–”

“Blithe,” the Denoir heir said solemnly. “Before I tripped that shielding mechanism, I managed to get a sample of the distilled product. I also got a bit of raw information about the machine from my regalia, Scouring Purpose, but it's not enough to put all the pieces together.”

I looked from the striker to the vial and back. I wanted to ask something, but the words halted on the tip of my tongue. My mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Did I have a right to even ask what I wanted to? After what’s he’s already sacrificed?

“I can figure out what this Vicar of Plague is trying in full,” Sevren said, filling in my thoughts, “But I need time and resources.”

I rubbed my nose with my hands. “I can’t ask you to help me anymore,” I said. Two sides of me warred. The pragmatic part recognized how helpful Sevren could be. But the part of me still reeling with the effects of my actions was louder. “Not after what happened here. I got you–”

“You didn’t cause any of this,” Sevren snapped, shifting his shoulder. “It was that vicar, Mardeth. He poisoned me, not you. And I insisted on joining you; on helping you. I’ll be damned if I don’t follow through on my word. I might not have the dagger anymore, but we both know the weight of a Promise.”

He is right, Toren, my bond conveyed gently. You are not at fault for his injury. I felt her emotions settle. She hadn’t always liked Sevren, especially after he established conditions for her use of the djinnic relic. He is a good friend, my Contractor. A better ally than any could have expected. Do not shun such warmth.

I closed my eyes, running over what I’d seen in the chasms. Images of the vicars bleeding the acidbeam hivemothers for their innards flashed into my mind. Of the large heart-shaped crystal of basilisk blood. How did the waters of the Redwater, blithe, and basilisk blood all work together? How did the experiments he’d done on the unadorned of East Fiachra tie into all this?

“You said that Mardeth’s horns were embedded into the crystal of basilisk blood?” I said, trying to find a common thread in all of this. “I know that the Vritra’s horns act as a sort of focus for mana. But I don’t get why he’d sever such important symbols of himself.”

“You can think on it until you go mad,” Sevren said with a sigh, pocketing that vial of blithe again. “But you still don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle. And maybe I can figure this out, but I don’t have all the tools I need.”

Pain is what drives us to our greatest heights, Mardeth's phantom voice rang in my head.

What in the hells was he planning?

“What tools are you missing?” I asked absently, trying to untangle this impossible knot in my mind. Seeing the center of Mardeth’s operations had only instilled in me a greater sense of dread.

I still have many months until he would act, don’t I? I tried to reassure myself. The threat of Seris Vritra was more than enough to keep him at bay for the time being, wasn’t it? I had time to stop whatever this was.

“I have a set of diagnostic chemist’s tools stashed away in the Denoir Relictombs estate,” Sevren said, seeming to force the words out. “I’ll need those if I want to dissect the purpose of this blithe. But I… I can’t go there.”

I looked at the Denoir heir with a bit of surprise. “Aren’t you the heir?” I asked with surprise. “You should be able to waltz right in.”

Sevren slumped. His teal cloak did a good job of covering the gaping hole where his arm used to be, but not enough. “I’ve been pushing against my parents’ agenda for me for years,” he admitted tiredly. “Being an ascender created a perfect cover. I was outside their politicking. Ascenders have special political exemptions that I took more than full advantage of. But if I stroll up without an arm, I’ll never be able to use those excuses again,” he said tiredly. “I’ll be another pawn.”

My throat clenched as Sevren seemed to realize the full implications of his injury for the first time. His parents would finally have an excuse to bar him from being an ascender, claiming he was unfit for the job. His entire purpose would be stripped from him.

And it’s not a matter of if, I thought with a sick feeling, But of when. How long can he hide from the world that he’s down an arm?

“I can try and get your tools for you,” I found myself saying. “You said they’re chemist’s tools? What are they called exactly?”

Sevren looked up at me, surprise washing through his haunted teal eyes. “My family are like sharks in the ocean,” he said. “And you’ll smell like the freshest of blood to them. Even from a bare visit, they’ll try to entangle you in their politics. You can’t afford it.”

I stood up, stretching out my sore muscles as the sunlight washed over my body. “It was bound to happen eventually,” I acknowledged. “I’m already starting to get embroiled in highblood politics. It’s a wonder I haven’t been thrust deeper in, but it was an inevitability from when I started to grow in strength.”

That was true. How many times could I make waves without being pulled under the water? Besides, the Denoirs were the kind of people I wanted to change the most. And I would not leave Sevren out to dry.

He seemed stuck with indecision, wavering between accepting my offer and taking the plunge himself. So I made one more push. “You’ve sacrificed an arm for this cause, Sevren,” I said solemnly, holding out a hand to the sitting striker. “Even if you don’t think it’s my fault, it's a sacrifice. Let me do the same.”

That seemed to clear the fog from his eyes. He reached out his remaining arm, clasping mine in a firm grip. I pulled him to his feet, nodding in acknowledgment. “We’re going to figure this out, Sevren,” I said earnestly, “By whatever means.”

He shook slightly, an emotion I couldn’t discern crossing his eyes. “We will,” he said weakly, though his grip around my hand only strengthened. “We will.”

The moment was broken as shuffling echoed out from where Mawar was sprawled. Her skin had long reverted to her pale base form, and I saw as scarlet pupils–not shining topaz–peeled themselves open.

They darted around in a panic, the retainer pulling herself into the fetal position. Her breathing heightened as her heartfire thundered with fear. “Where–” she croaked, “Where am I?”

I swiftly walked over to the prone form of the young Vritra-blooded girl, feeling her panic in the mana around us. “You’re safe,” I said softly, raising my hands in a nonaggressive manner as she spun on me, void wind popping weakly along her fingers. “We escaped from Mardeth. We’re a ways away from those shattered canyons now. You’re okay.”

The girl wavered, something wet and shining building behind her eyes. She slumped, her mana puttering out in her hands. “I–” she croaked weakly, “I lost?”

I exhaled through my nose, edging closer before kneeling so I was at eye level with the young retainer. “You did,” I said solemnly. I didn’t know what else to say.

The Unseen World layered itself over my vision as Aurora looked down at the Vritra-blooded girl. Her mouth was drawn to a thin line, yet her burning eyes shone with sympathy.

Tears began to streak down the pale girl’s cheeks as she trembled, wrapping herself in her arms as if to ward away the cold. “Then they’re right,” she said, her voice cracking. “He’s stronger than me. I– I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve to be her retainer.”

I felt something in my chest crack as Mawar trembled, seeming lost. I inched forward, laying a comforting hand on her back as she sobbed.

I grit my teeth, feeling a familiar emotion rising in my stomach. Anger, one that was matched in intensity by the asuran shade at my side. This was Agrona’s world; where the only way a daughter would feel worthy of a mother’s love was through brutal combat.

I wanted to say something, but what could I say? That every person deserved love? That Melzri loved her regardless of her strength? That she deserved her retainership regardless of her loss?

Anything I would say would be meaningless. So instead, I tried my best to be a comforting presence for this teenager I barely knew. I remembered how broken I’d felt in the aftermath of Nrogan’s death. How alone I’d been.

I wouldn’t let another grieve alone.