Toren Daen

My fires were not yet hot enough to match those of the Asclepius hunters. The yeti’s shriveled body went up like dry tinder, but the stench of burning fat and deep black smoke arching into the sky told me of my shortcomings.

One day, I’d be able to make fires so hot that not even a smell remained. There would be no time for smoke, for the heat would eviscerate even that.

The top of the mountain plateau was only slightly isolated from the blowing, chill winds by a few craggy outcroppings. The exit portal itself blazed with purple light near the far end, inviting me to leave.

But right now, Aurora’s massive relic kept me in its shade as the night slowly crept up, her bright eyes burning with solemn respect for our defeated foe. I was wearing a cloak to protect against the wind, meanwhile keeping close to the fire and my bond’s warmth. I’d taken a sizable amount of the yeti’s fur, which was surprisingly soft and durable. Perhaps I could make a cloak out of that, next. Another way to honor it.

Lady Dawn had explained to me the process Asclepius hunters undertook when they could not make use of an entire kill. They would burn what was left of their prey till there was less than ash, returning the creature to the environment in a final act of acknowledgment.

I’d drained this monster of lifeforce, adding it to my own reserves as its lifespan trickled away. Just as men consumed the flesh of beasts to sustain their lives, so too did I take from this defeated monster.

But it was still a raw, primal way to kill a creature.

I pressed the knuckles of my closed fist against my open hand as I bowed slightly to the fire. I said no words, for none would reach the beast’s soul wherever it drifted after I’d taken away its anchor.

“My use of heartfire is different from anything you’ve seen, isn’t it?” I asked the empty air as the fire finally died down after half an hour or so. “There’s something visceral about the control I have over my own energy. That I don’t think anybody, save perhaps Arthur, ever had. Or will have.”

My ability to siphon an enemy’s very heartfire from their chest still unnerved me. Perhaps my aetheric abilities were far more limited than Arthur’s would be, but my control and use of them were different. Some part of me wanted to ask Fate why I had such a power.

“The power to coax one’s lifeforce is purely an art of the phoenix,” Aurora rumbled above me, shifting her wings around me as the fire died to provide more warmth. “The dragons and the djinn both leveraged their dominion over the world itself, but we turned inward to what was naturally present. But we never had true control, only barest nudges.” She paused. “Truthfully, my son, I was not certain your First Sculpting would be such a success. Sculptings are normally long, painful endeavors that take many years to complete as we slowly rewrite cell after cell in a meticulous process that often results in failure or death. But I had been gifted the blood of the djinn myself, and though I knew not my capabilities, I knew I had to try.”

I looked at the crackling embers as they finally dissipated, a bit of smoke stretching off the mountaintop plateau. I watched it ascend, lamenting the lack of stars in the sky.

“That just means we need to do everything we can with what we’ve been afforded,” I breathed, my breath misting on the air. “So far, I’ve mostly used this power to heal and protect. But if I want to stand a chance against my enemies, I need to understand it more.”

Aurora’s beak nuzzled the top of my head affectionately. “You have time to spread your wings, Toren,” she said soothingly. I felt a wave of exhaustion–one I didn’t even know I’d been carrying–make my arms droop and my eyelids heavy.

Sensing my bond’s intentions, I withdrew a bedroll from my dimension ring, laying it down nearby across the smooth stone. As I prepared myself for sleep, looking up at the orange-purple mist of my bond’s protective relic form as it seeped through the cracks, I spoke one last time.

“I think we should stay in this zone for a few days,” I murmured, closing my eyes and feeling my body wind down. “Sevren wanted us to explore each zone thoroughly, and I’ve needed time to practice with my abilities.”

“You speak wisely, my bond,” Aurora rumbled melodically overhead, a sturdy bulwark against the chill.

“And we should practice more with our teamwork,” I mumbled, feeling my consciousness slip. “And give you more time to fly. To be free, before I have to go to that godforsaken summit.”

Aurora’s beak pulled my blanket further up my body as I finally drifted off. “Thank you, Toren,” she whispered, so soft I almost couldn’t hear. “For helping me fly again.”

—

Several days passed in relative peace atop the peak. I made good use of my time, trying to piece together Circe Milview’s three-point array, going on short expeditions to hunt the wildlife in this zone with my bond, and then noting down information about each creature or hazard we encountered. I took many pictures, savoring the naturally unnatural beauty this infinite stretch of mountains provided.

I breathed in as I sat atop a rock, pulling my Phoenix Will a bit closer with the action. I was currently in my Acquire Phase as I continued with my mental assimilation, trying to allow the trickling knowledge to remain in my mind.

Nearby, Aurora guided me as best she could. But while she could push me along mental pathways to access more power, she could not truly do the job of understanding the knowledge for me. It had become increasingly difficult to retain more and more insight as I grew more powerful. Though my growth had been exponential, I felt like I lacked some fundamental grounds in mana manipulation to progress further.

“It may be that your core must progress in purity to truly absorb any more substantial knowledge,” Aurora commented, ruffling her wings. “The majority of the insight contained in my Will is bound by an asura’s grasp of ambient mana. Once you reach the white core and can better perceive and utilize organic spellwork, the opportunities you grasp for will increase immensely.”

I sighed irritably as I opened my eyes, allowing my Will to phase back into my core. While my exponential understanding of mana had been helped along both by Lady Dawn’s instructions and the Will’s subtle guidance, many of the concepts that I somehow instinctually understood while utilizing my Acquire Phase just did not compute with my regular abilities to wield mana.

The white core increased a mage’s ability to alter and control the mana within their spells after casting immensely, granting them a more precise hold over their intent that even allowed them to fly without any strain. It seemed a great deal of the further insight I had at my disposal would necessitate that understanding and ability to truly grasp.

I’d been able to grow exponentially due to my absorption and assimilation of insight. It was a shame that would slow down to nearly a trickle, now.

“Do not sound so upset, Toren,” Aurora chided at my dull mood. “Your explosive growth was bound to stall at some point. Now is the time for consolidation rather than accumulation. Building ever-higher on unstable foundations can only lead to a broken home.”

“Wise words,” I teased lightly, looking out over the endless clouds before me, “From the sage at the peak of the mountain path. Tell me, what other advice do you have?” I said, turning and raising a brow slightly. “Should I abandon all worldly possessions too, seeking a road of enlightenment?”

Aurora’s relic form straightened imperiously, a wry flash of something in her burning sunlit eyes. Her voice took on a cadence I didn’t recognize as she spoke. “But of course. The path to enlightenment is something not for the faint of heart. One must be able to sit still as a breeze so that the pantheon grass would brush you by. So that not even a raptor squirrel might sense your intent.”

I cocked my head. “That sounded like a quote. And I’m certain you’re mocking someone with those words.”

The relic puffed a breath of orange-purple steam. “Clanlord Ademir Thyestes of the Pantheon race. He is a brilliant warrior, one of the few who could hope to match my own talents in battle, but a poor philosopher despite his attempts.”

I raised a skeptical brow. “You sound like you don’t like him,” I prodded, surprised by the mild distaste I felt over our bond.

“Millennia ago, before his rise to Lord of the Thyestes and the fall of the Vritra from the Great Eight, he attempted to win my favor through an ancient martial tradition of the pantheons. He challenged a hundred asura, most from different clans over a hundred days, engaging in a battle at the first light of every dawn to prove his strength.”

I raised a brow, chuckling at the story. “And how, exactly, was that supposed to win your favor? I know for a fact you wouldn’t fall in love over someone’s martial strength.”

“Most only knew me as the warrior I was, Toren,” Aurora chided with amusement. “Few asked me any questions beyond that knowledge. Though there was one who sought to truly know me; a titan who was a quarter of my age.” She shook her large, metallic head wistfully. “But that is beside the point. A young Ademir issued challenge after challenge, facing every foe from one day to the next. Hamadryad, sylph, dragon, basilisk, leviathan, phoenix, pantheon… None were exempt from the test of strength. And on and on he went, winning victory after victory. For a hundred days he issued his challenges, proudly announcing that he was fighting for my favor.”

Aurora sounded genuinely impressed by that, despite her misgivings about Ademir personally. “Well, did he actually succeed?” I prodded, feeling invested now.

“Patience, young chick, patience,” Aurora chided with amusement. “Ademir was bold and brash among his clan. His strength was such that no others within his generation could hope to match him, and few beyond it, too. Under the old martial laws of his clan, he was likely to be the next leader, which he knew. And each of his subsequent victories only made him bolder and bolder as he climbed that peak. Until he saw fit to challenge one asura.”

Aurora’s words held me as if in a vice as she let the moment settle. I felt trepidation and anxiety building in my chest as I yearned for the full story, but I held my tongue.

“On the hundredth day of Ademir’s crusade across Epheotus, he arrived in the old capital of his homeland, Battle’s End in the Cerulean Savannah. And full of might, battle lust, and hot air, he echoed his challenge so all could hear. He called for Aldir Thyestes to face him in the fields.”

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I winced. “That could not have gone well.”

Aurora’s shade chuckled. “The lengths young men–both human and asura–will go to for the sake of wooing a woman are beyond belief, my son. I humbly implore you never to make such a stupid decision for the sake of some fair maid you decide to court.”

Unbidden, my thoughts drifted to Seris and her stern, disapproving gaze as I tripped over my own feet from exhaustion as she forced me through bladework drills. I coughed into my fist, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I like to think I’m not that stupid,” I said, but from Aurora’s piercing glare I knew she was suspicious. “You were saying?”

Aurora sighed. “Needless to say, Ademir’s supporters begged him to rescind his challenge. Aldir was–is–nearly older than the Great Eight themselves, as was forged by Kezess Indrath millennia ago. His blade was quenched with the blood of the final rebellious clans of asura in the wake of Lord Indrath’s declaration of dominion. His fist was the one Kezess sent forth to crush any who made notes of rebellion. And above all, he bore the burden of the World Eater Technique. Needless to say, Ademir misstepped.”

“But before he could withdraw his challenge–for rumor had it that he regretted his words the moment they were uttered–Aldir accepted it with quiet dignity, honoring a tradition he was old enough to see created. And so, amidst a sea of spectators, Aldir and Ademir–ancient and young–fought the hundredth battle. Aldir, to honor tradition. Ademir, ostensibly, to honor me.”

I breathed out. “Ademir lost, didn’t he?” I asked.

“It was barely a fight,” Aurora acknowledged. “I had not bothered to witness the previous battles–for I was not interested in Ademir as a mate–but Lord Aldir’s power was something even my brother respected. So I attended myself, hoping to gleam a warrior’s glimpse of the General’s power.”

I thought of my knowledge of The Beginning After the End in that moment. The fight between Aldir and the dragons Kezess Indrath sent to the slaughter could be described as little more than a butchery.

“With the application of Mirage Walk to such a high degree, the battle seemed like a blur to most,” Aurora commented with deep awe. “Few among the spectators could track their movements, but I could. Ademir was a raging tempest; a typhoon with the spear as he dueled the greatest warrior his clan had ever produced. And in turn, Aldir was as graceful as a whip eel, his rapier sharp and deadly as he wove amidst the storm. His steps were as light as if he were in a summer breeze rather than a howling current of pure force-type mana arts.”

“When the dust settled, Aldir’s rapier had pierced Ademir’s sternum, the tip barely poised above the arrogant pantheon’s core. The battle was over, the young upstart defeated on his final challenge with contemptuous ease.”

“I’m willing to bet he did not take his loss well,” I said slowly, thinking of all the arrogant nobles I’d met.

Aurora’s relic shook its head, surprising me. “I was shocked myself. In the wake of his victory, Aldir instructed the young pantheon on how he could master his temper and improve his mind. While that boldness always stayed with him, in the wake of his defeat, Ademir was humbled and learned what it took to be a true leader of his clan. But it is hard to dismiss the irritants that followed in the wake of his attempted courtship.”

I raised a brow. “Oh? And how many asura did try and court you, my dear bond?” I prodded, more than a little teasing in my tone as I sensed the deep annoyance her words carried.

“I was the sister of Mordain Asclepius, leader of the Asclepius clan. I was the greatest master of my clan’s fighting styles in an age, my unique plasma arts setting me above and beyond nearly every other warrior I knew. Truth be told, Toren, the only bachelorette more politically enticing was Sylvia Indrath, and she was already betrothed to Agrona Vritra.”

Which made it all the more astounding that it was a djinn who finally captured her heart, I thought. Andravhor must have been a wonderful man.

“He was,” my bond said wistfully, reading my thoughts. “He had a fire not unlike my own, but he had tempered it. He saw a beauty in everything that was infectious. I learned to love the small details in my life. Like this wonderful, expansive sky we see before us.”

We sat there for a few more minutes, quietly appreciating the clouds beneath us. But I couldn’t stay here forever.

I pushed myself to my feet, cracking my back as I finally pulled my eyes away from the view. I noted my attempts to mimic Circe’s spell along the ground, patches of blood in a dozen three-point-arrays lining the earth.

After much practice and a bit of coaxing from Aurora, I’d managed to mimic the primary effects of Circe’s spell: namely, creating a mana beacon by creating a positive feedback loop between three anchor points. Unfortunately, even though I’d managed to get blood to work as the medium for the anchor points, I wasn’t able to thread heartfire through the mana in a way that made it speed up and flare as Circe’s had. Whenever I tried, the excess energy just dissipated, unwilling to maintain a form when separated from my body.

But I’m on the right track, I thought, as I gradually packed up my sparse belongings. I need to piece together how lifeforce and mana interact before I move further on this path.

I turned to my bond. “Hey, Aurora?” I said, a bit of reluctance in my tone. “We’ve gotta get going through these zones. Lay down the anchor points and all.”

“I understand, my bond,” Aurora said, melancholy notes in her melodic whir of a voice. “Detach the threads as you see fit.”

Feeling the note of acceptance across our bond, I reached my hands up to the thick tether tying the phoenix feather in my core to the relic across from me. I grasped the threads, then began to reclaim my heartfire through the cord.

Gradually, Aurora’s relic shrank as the light left its eyes. It folded in on itself in impossible geometries as it shone like molten metal, gradually returning to that single, feathered bronze brooch.

“It is well that we have mapped this zone,” Aurora’s voice whispered across my ear. ”I would enjoy another flight through the air.”

I smiled at the idea, silently agreeing with my bond. Then I stepped through the portal.

—

We went through a few more zones as we laid down the stakes, but I didn’t stop and rest in these as I did the mountaintop. Aurora and I worked together to rip through the challenges with ruthless efficiency, laying down anchor stakes, making notes, and taking pictures all the while.

And so when I finally stepped back into the Town Zone–using the tether sphere for it given to me by Sevren–I was ready for a deep soak in a bath and a long, long nap.

I flicked my hand free of the bit of wet grime that had stuck to my palm. The last zone had been a trudge through an annoying marshland-esque environment where I had to watch my use of fire magic for fear of a gas explosion. That also meant I couldn’t burn away all the refuse clinging to my body.

“I’m starting to think the Relictombs adapt to my dislikes as well as strength,” I muttered under my breath, feeling disjointed from being so dirty. Cleanliness was important. It helped separate me from the things I fought.

Before I could say anything else, however, I spotted Sevren Denoir as he strode toward me, a slight wrinkle to his nose as he spotted the mess that my once-pristine clothes had become. “I was going to ask you how your ascents went,” he said, “but I don’t think I’m going anywhere near you until you clean up. No offense.”

“None taken,” I groaned. “I wouldn’t want to talk to me, either.”

After a long and thorough shower, I was laid back in one of the houses that hadn’t yet been torn apart by Sevren’s machinery and testing equipment. I sank into the leather couch as I laid across it length-wise, feeling my muscles relax as I was finally afforded some safety.

“Where’s Caera at?” I asked absently as I removed my spoils from the ascent and placed them on the table near Sevren. My notepad, the recording device that held the myriad photos of the zones, and a few items I’d picked up from the aether beasts I thought he might like. “She went with you on all your ascents, no?”

Sevren deflated slightly, noting the items I’d left. “She has a life to manage,” he said, a bit of his voice closing off. “Lenora needs her back to play her part.”

I looked up, sensing something more in my friend’s words as I uncrossed my legs, shifting so I was sitting normally. “And your mother… doesn’t need you to play your part?”

Sevren waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter,” he lied. “Just tell me what you’ve found in the Tombs. My sister and I went through three zones in total, but it looks like you carved your way through four.”

I smiled. I wouldn’t have been able to maintain such a speed without the assistance of my bond in her large relic form. Personally, we’d cleared the zones at a rate that would make any ascender proud.

“Well, most of these are small trinkets I took off enemies that displayed some level of aetheric power,” I said, pointing at a claw that had–when it was still connected to a large bear-like aether beast–glowed purple and shredded my telekinetic shroud with contemptuous ease. I gestured to another one: a small crystal that flashed intermittently with violet light. “I can’t truly sense all aether, but the creatures in an underground zone–which lacked light entirely–used these crystals to navigate, and I’m more than certain it emits some sort of aetheric pulse.”

Sevren nodded a few times as he inspected each item, before picking up the crystal. I felt a fluctuation of mana as he activated his regalia, Scouring Purpose, no doubt checking to see if there was aether involved.

“Okay,” the Denoir heir said. “And you said most of these you pried from dead bodies?”

I nodded. Lifeforce dissipated from a body once it died, so I couldn’t sense any aetheric aftereffects on these items. But that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. The High Sovereign’s imbuers had made immense strides in understanding the djinn’s magic through clever workarounds, and I had no doubt Sevren was on a level with each of them–maybe even beyond them.

I blinked, remembering another few items I had stored in my dimension ring. “Oh,” I said, withdrawing them from my spatial storage. They were remarkably light as they settled into my hands, certainly no more weighty than steel despite their absurd strength. The bronze feathers the yeti monster had torn from my bond’s relic gleamed under the low light, a bare thrum of remaining lifeforce in their structure. “The relic was damaged a bit in use. The damage regenerated, but I was left with this metal. It stores heartfire in a way that is hard to find.”

The only other medium I’d seen comparable was blood.

Where Sevren had eyed each item before with mild interest, his eyes sharpened as he took the arm-length feathers from me, his enhanced strength allowing him to hold them with his single hand. He looked at them almost reverently. “You have no idea how much I could do with these,” he said, a tinge of excitement in his voice. “A true container for aether–do you have any idea how difficult that is to find? Even with my new spellform? The dispersal rates across most materials are…” Sevren shook his head, seeing my blank expression. “Never mind,” he said, stowing the feathers in his dimension ring. “What are you going to do next, Toren?”

I ran a hand through my hair, allowing the familiar sensation to ground me. I’d spent about a week and a half on these ascents, but time was relative in the Relictombs. I had an upcoming meeting.

“I’m going to a summit to discuss the war,” I said quietly, my hands clasped tightly in front of me. “And I can’t exactly avoid it.”

Sevren was the only person–besides Naereni–who I’d told the true story of my confrontation with Varadoth. He knew I was being ordered to go to war and who had ordered it.

“Do you need to go to war?” the Denoir heir asked, looking at me inquisitively. His question wasn’t judgemental, just genuinely curious. “In the Relictombs, you have a safe place to avoid the gaze of Agrona. And…” he hesitated. “I know you use the same mana techniques as the Dicathians. If worst came to worst, you could likely hide yourself amongst them quite effectively.”

I looked up. “It’s not that simple, Sevren,” I sighed. The Denoir heir had few connections beyond me and his sister, so he didn’t see the same picture I did. “There are people close to me who would suffer were I to so blatantly disobey.”

If I disobeyed the High Sovereign so openly, trying to hide away in Dicathen? What would happen to Fiachra? To Naereni and Wade, the sole remaining members of the Rats? Hell, what would happen to Sevren? Agrona wasn’t afraid to use the people close to me as leverage. As he showed. I gritted my teeth, struggling to restrain a pulse of intent at the thought of Greahd. His message had been received loud and clear, but not in the way he intended. “And these chains along my arm are not for show, Sevren,” I whispered solemnly. I looked up, meeting his serious eyes. “There’s someone I need to kill.”