Toren Daen

I awoke with the dawn, rays of sunlight peeking over the edges of clarwood trees. The remnants of my fire smoldered in an ashen pit, having long since extinguished. Around me, several small mounds of dirt hinted at the mana beast bodies I had buried before going to bed, both to avoid attracting predators and as a measure of respect.

Birdsong filled the air, despite the fact I had yet to see any sort of bird in this forest. I got up and stretched, working out kinks in my back. I had slept against a tree, sheltered by a branch above and with my dagger clutched in my hand. It wasn’t the most secure setup, but it was the best I could do.

I searched around my pack, about to withdraw my waterskin. I was understandably parched.

Before I could, however, a searing pain lanced from my mana core, causing me to stumble. I gasped as the pressure built, pushing against the boundary of my core. It was like something was rushing to get out, threatening to burst from my nexus of power. And by whatever gods existed in this world, it hurt.

What the hell, I thought to myself in panic as sweat dewed on my forehead. What is happening?

The pain began to finally simmer away, leaving me heaving. As the Unseen World subsumed my vision, I finally realized what the burning pain was. I should have expected it to happen sooner, to be honest.

The Beast Will of Lady Dawn was rebelling against my body. If I didn’t manage to assimilate it into my body, the Will would break down within me, ripping my core apart as the vessel was too small to handle it. It would sear and sear and sear, building in intensity and frequency before my core finally shattered, scattering the Will with it.

Lady Dawn was standing expectantly before me. Her orange sundress melded with the sun, outlining her body in a flare of light. The phoenix’s shadowy purple skin seemed more prominent with all the bright colors about her.

“The Will is fighting back,” Lady Dawn said smoothly. “You must not let it.”

“Gotta assimilate it,” I said, steadying my breathing. “I know. And I know the theory behind assimilation, too.” I gulped, sitting back down by my tree once more. “But I think I’m gonna need help.”

Lady Dawn tilted her head. “That is to be expected,” she said in her familiar monotone.

I huffed. Lady Dawn didn’t intend to degrade me, I knew. That she expected failure still hurt.

I peered inward at my mana core, inspecting the light orange nexus of power. I would need to disperse mana across my entire body, letting my muscles and bones slowly absorb the energy.

I pulled pure mana from my core, guiding it as best I could to each of my limbs and letting it settle. It was a slow and steady process, and it tested my patience. Mana would break off, shifting dispersing around my body or escaping into the air. Sometimes I felt the mana strengthening my body, which was not what I actually wanted it to do. It needed to remain pure and practically intent-less, then finally it would be absorbed by my body in a more fundamental way.

I was beginning to grow frustrated by the process before a set of warm hands laid themselves on my back. Another force added itself to my own, acting with nigh infinitely more precision and care than my own ever could. Under this intent’s direction, mana began to finally settle across my body. It needed to be held in place, something that I mimicked the best I could by copying Lady Dawn’s motions. It was a paltry effort compared to what the phoenix was doing, but I needed to assist somehow.

This attempt at wrangling my own mana to do what I needed of it continued for a long while more. I actually noticed some of the mana finally seep into my muscles at that point; that success motivated me more than anything. But eventually, I felt Lady Dawn’s influence on my mana recede. It was like a breath of warm air rushing away, leaving a hollow space where something used to dwell.

It was a strange experience.

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to notice how far the sun had moved during the time I had spent trying to assimilate the Will. An hour or two had passed in meditation. Another thing I hadn’t noticed was how mentally worn I felt.

It was as if I had been doing calculus all day again, but condensed in a mental drain that made it slightly harder to think. The mental fatigue surprised me in its intensity: I hadn’t even noticed until I finally pulled myself from the assimilation process.

“The assimilation will take a long time more,” Lady Dawn said primly, standing in front of me once more. “You will begin to feel the onset of the Will’s struggles. Whenever these occur, I shall help you distribute the mana across your system.”

I nodded in a tired thanks. “Assimilation is practically the inverse of Integration,” I said with a daze. “Instead of drawing mana into oneself to the point of bursting the core,” I continued, my thoughts slowly becoming more clear, “I spread it out from my core, allowing it to dissolve into my body.” It was an interesting dichotomy; a push and a pull. Was there any correlation? Were they connected?

Lady Dawn’s eyes narrowed in a complex expression. “You do know of the secret of Integration,” she said with masked surprise. “That information has been leashed and kept away from men for centuries, lest they grow too powerful. But you, lesser of another world, know it.”

A splash of clear panic cut through my exhaustion like a knife, clearing my mind as one might blow away fog. I realized a bit too late that I probably should not have admitted I knew the secret to achieving Integration, the stage beyond white core.

Despite not interacting for long, Lady Dawn and I had been playing a game of keeping secrets to ourselves, an unspoken understanding between us that our relationship could not stand if either of us pushed.

How did I know so much about the future? What had she done to reincarnate me? We both burned with questions, I was sure. But a tense arrangement had been reached without words; one that couldn’t be disrupted.

But if one of us released a secret of our own accord, the story changed.

My thoughts spiraled into a dozen what-if scenarios and worries. Asuras, in general, really could not be trusted to keep the well-being of ‘lessers’ in mind. The Vritra clan regularly experimented on people in the infernal dungeons of Taegrin Caelum, picking anything they could touch apart to see how they worked. They were the worst kind of scientist: the kind without any ethical limits to stop their rampant experimentation.

Kezess Indrath and the dragons of Epheotus had committed genocide on a scale beyond the worst megalomaniacs of my past life, succeeding in completely eliminating an entire race of peaceful people–the djinn–in a horrific act. And it was done only because these people held more knowledge than he; more mastery of what he wanted for himself.

I didn’t really know how much I could trust Lady Dawn, but I also didn’t have a choice. The asura of the Hearth, of which Lady Dawn was a part, seemed far more amiable to mortal kind than any other. They actively lived with the last remnants of the djinn, procreating with them and continuing the last remnants of a destroyed culture.

Lady Dawn cut through my perceived panic like a knife. “I will not press, Contractor,” she said, allowing my racing heart to settle. “If it will set you at ease, I will tell you a truth of my own.” She paused, looking at my face for a while. “I cannot manipulate mana as I am now. I am unable to act beyond your shell.”

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Grateful for her change of topic, I blurted out a question. “Wait, can’t you manipulate mana? But you helped me with my own.”

Lady Dawn shook her feathered head. “No, I can merely assist you in efforts you already undertake, and only when you are in a meditative state.” She walked to a nearby tree, raising her arm. My curiosity turned to confusion as she waved her translucent arm at the tree, passing straight through without even a ripple.

“You can’t interact with the environment?” I asked, confused. “But you’ve moved me before. I felt it just a minute ago,” I said with a frown.

“Only you,” the phoenix replied. She pointed at my sternum. “The feather in your core contains everything that I am. My soul, my power, my knowledge. Centuries of experience and expertise condensed into a single plume. It is what binds me to you. And thus, we intersect.”

I blinked, realizing how much that implied. It explained much. Lady Dawn had also let go of a secret of her own in a silent exchange for part of my knowledge. I was grateful for that. It implied a level of respect for me I was surprised existed.

I looked once more to the sun, estimating it was now midmorning. If I wanted to reach Fiachra before noon, I would have to rush. Several seconds passed in comfortable silence before I interrupted.

I suppressed the disquieting feeling that my own core was another prison for the phoenix.

“Any plans you have for me today?” I asked, turning north. “There are a few things I need to do in Fiachra, but beyond that, all I can do is train,” I said mirthfully.

“You will be tested more this night,” Lady Dawn replied.

I sighed. “Shocker,” I said replied.

—

I reached Fiachra in record time, especially because I didn’t run into any mana beasts coiling about the trees. My parkour skills had truly improved during this last night in the forest. I had spent less and less time making decisions for the next branch I wanted to leap to, and also regained my balance near instantly.

It wouldn’t be long before I was running through trees Naruto style. At least I hoped.

The same guard greeted me at the gate as the last time, a welcoming smile on his face as he looked me up and down. “You look like you won this time!” he said with cheer, bruising what little ego I had now. He thought I’d lost my last fight?

Well, considering what I looked like when I last showed up here…

I smiled tiredly. I’d only gotten about five hours of sleep last night, which I was certain would be a trend. “I got my revenge,” I replied. “Didn’t let the tail get me this time,” I said, knowing he would catch my drift.

The guard nodded. His full plate glinted in the noon sun. Absently, I wondered how he functioned at all under that steel under a hot sun before realizing he probably had some sort of mana-operated cooling. “Grohds can be awful bastards if you aren’t careful,” he said. “That whip-like tail has claimed more than a few lives. It's good to see your strength is growing!” he said, waving me on as I passed him three bronze marks–the coin, not the spellform. “Every bit of power you gain glorifies the Sovereigns!” he called after me, far too chipper for his mundane job. The other guard was clearly bored beyond belief.

But he was wrong. Every bit of strength I clawed from this world wouldn’t glorify the Sovereigns. No, it would serve to bring them to their knees, if indirectly.

My thoughts wandered as I slowly navigated back to my apartment. First on my list of things to do was to buy a journal. Also, a few metal skewers for food. I had a feeling I would be eating dinner in the forest for a long time, and the requisite equipment would help immensely.

The atmosphere of Fiachra never ceased to draw a bit of wonder out of me, despite its strange familiarity. The canals and waterways were a testament to human and magical engineering, purposely dug to allow for the rapid transport of goods and people. Tunnels cut through hills to allow the canals to continue, arching upward finally at certain points in the city. It drew a childlike wonder to my mind, truly reminding me that I was in the equivalent of a fantasy world.

That wonder began to fade as I moved towards East Fiachra. It was noticeably less vibrant than the wealthier parts of the city

My plans were halted, however, when I saw a woman shuffling outside my apartment building. She wore a shawl over her head, making her hunched-over form seem even smaller.

I recognized her, even through what I assumed was an attempt at disguise. Duena, the lady Norgan and I had saved.

Anger bubbled in my chest. Irrational fury at the woman for being assaulted in broad daylight. For compelling my brother to run to her aid. For being too slow with her aging body to bring help in time.

With an exhale, I suppressed the emotion. I stiffly wove through the crowd, approaching from the side. Duena had been nothing but good to us, I repeated to myself over and over. She deserved none of the anger I felt.

“Duena,” I said stiffly from behind her. She jumped, turning to face me quickly. “What are you doing here?” I asked, fighting to keep the bitterness from my voice. I failed.

Duena looked unsure for a moment. “Around the Healer’s Guild,” she finally said. “A few people were asking about you. Strangers.”

I grit my teeth, guessing where this was going. I scanned the area once more, but I knew I wouldn’t find anything out of place. “What were they asking about, Duena?” I replied.

“Who you were. What your name was. Where you worked, that kind of thing,” Duena stuttered under my fierce stare. “Trelza didn’t give them anything, but they’ll be back. They said so.” The aging woman looked at me from under her shawl, and I realized that her bruises from the beating she had taken hadn’t fully healed. One of her eyes was no longer swollen shut, but it was still an ugly purple marring her rough skin.

The sight made much of the restrained anger evaporate. Duena had still suffered under Blood Joan, just as I had. In fact, I never learned why she had been accosted by the ‘scion of Blood Joan.’

I supposed it didn’t matter now.

My shoulders slumped and I turned my face into the sky. It was overcast now; the sun hidden behind a layer of clouds. “I’ll need to leave Fiachra,” I said with resignation. If I stayed within the city, I had no doubt the bloodhounds amidst Blood Joan would track me down eventually. And I was far from ready to face a mage in combat. I needed more time. I passed the woman and reached my hand to my apartment block door.

“I’m sorry,” Duena said suddenly behind me, a crack in her voice. “I’m sorry about Norgan. He was such a good boy. He didn’t deserve to die like that,” she said, a growing sob coating her voice. “I don’t want you to die, too. Not because of me.”

I stayed facing the door for a moment. I closed my eyes, a few tears trailing down my cheeks. Then I entered my apartment, banishing my grief from my mind.

—

I didn’t have much to pack. Toren and Norgan had lived light: only a few sets of clothes, the basic hygiene necessities, a journal and pen, and a few miscellaneous items.

Most of these were already packed in my sling bag, barely fitting comfortably. Combined with the remaining coins, I had just enough space.

I held the Daen signet ring in my hand, the symbol of the true heir to the Named Blood. The crest on the little piece of jewelry was a long-dead insignia of a long-dead family: a dagger sprouting rivers of runes. Toren’s memories of the aging steward Arlen explaining the significance of the symbol floated to the surface of my mind.

“You are a house of blades,” he had said in his proper manner. “Swords forged in the rivers of Fiachra and the blood of the Relictombs,” I remembered him directing his hand over a paper detailing each of the runes on the ring. “The runes stretching from the left of the blade are found on every ascension portal. From the right flows those on every descension portal.”

I remember him raising a finger, the classic pose for when he truly wanted Norgan and me to remember something. “A Named Blood is forged in the Relictombs. Never forget that.”

I threaded a small metal chain through the ring before clasping it around my neck.

Norgan and I never forgot, I thought with sadness. The Relictombs were our goal. We’d revive our house with glory and accolades, just as we once rose to power.

I looked at the last item I owned. In an ornate metal case was a beautiful violin with a matching bow. The wood was clearly old, but with the remarkable polish and exquisite craftsmanship it looked graceful rather than decrepit. The strings were crafted of fine aether beast hairs, taken straight from the Relictombs. It was carved of clarwood, the tree native to the southern forest of Fiachra and namesake of the southern Dominion.

Etched near the bottom was the familiar symbol of Named Blood Dean. This was the one other heirloom kept from the fall of the Blood: a beautiful violin crafted for the best of the art. If anybody but a master were to use it, it would be an insult to the instrument itself.

Toren was a master. It was one of his few pastimes beyond training and practicing with his magic. Toren, and I by extension, could work wonders of art with that instrument.

I stared at it long and hard before closing the case.

I left the instrument there in the apartment, abandoned. Alacrya had very little musical culture anywhere, and I finally understood why.

When it was fight or die, what room was there for music?