Naereni
I watched Dusk bound up the wall of the building, his cloak trailing behind him. Once I was sure he was gone, I relaxed slightly.
“Do you think he’s going to act on that info?” Hofal asked, rearranging his axe and buckler. He moved to the edge of the alleyway, tapping his foot on the ground lightly as he went.
I thought over the past few minutes. Dusk, as he called himself, had very clear motives. “The first thing he asked us about was if Blood Joan was in our sights,” I answered as I continued to mull over the scenario that lead us to this point. “And he intervened only after I said the Rats would try the Joans again.” I twirled an ice dagger through my hands, an idle habit that helped me think. “The man’s got a bone to pick with the Joans.”
“Actually, he attacked that shield right after that striker said he would kill us all,” Hofal added, still tapping the ground. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He pressed his foot down on the brick, and a slight rumbling heralded a small passage opening in the middle of the street. “And said ‘Blood Joan wouldn’t kill anybody while he was there.’”
I looked regretfully back at the bodies of the mages we’d just defeated. One had a satin shirt, which was sure to be worth a few coins. Another had a sword that was clearly of good make, using mana beast materials. The lead striker Hofal and I fought actually had a silver necklace around his neck. I wondered what I could get for that?
I had been distracted by my interaction with Dusk, so I didn’t get the time to paw through their things. I could feel my lips pulling into a pout as I stared longingly at all those items.
Hofal looked at me pointedly, making me sigh. I couldn’t stay to nab even a few things.
I dismissed the ice dagger as Hofal and I dropped down the shaft. I landed with a splash of water, ignoring the stench on my nose. The sewers under Fiachra weren’t the most pleasant place, but that was what made them perfect for travel. I was glad I didn’t have to use our last resort item to mask our presence. That was another thing I could thank Dusk for.
“You think he’s from a rival Blood? Out to stall the Joans’ interests?” I asked quietly as Hofal and I quickly traversed the sewers. It was well-known to both of us. We wouldn’t get lost, even in the dark. “He was pretty good in that scrap, from what I saw. Professionally trained?”
Hofal was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. He caught us all off guard there with that entrance. How much of his fight was the surprise and how much was skill?” I could just make out Hofal shaking his head. “But he’s probably not from one of Joan's rivals. We’ve spit in most of their faces, and any who openly support the Rats at this point will get attacked from all sides.”
Hofal’s thoughts made sense. Dusk was probably an independent, then. Or acting without the permission of his Blood.
I frowned. “Do you know what gave us away?” I asked quietly. We were practically done with the heist when some sort of alarm tripped. I had just unlocked the safe–
Realization struck me like the tail of a barkskin grohd. “Damn,” I bit out, interrupting whatever Hofal was going to say. “The safe was probably baited all along. It was never meant to be opened.”
A sour feeling arose in my gut. Karsien wouldn’t fall for such a cheap trick, but I had. Maybe Kars would be able to point out how I’d messed up if he could find the time.
The big shield didn’t miss a step, likely having reached the same conclusion long ago. “We’ll need to inform Karsien about this,” Hofal said, avoiding a particularly viscous bit of sewage. “Blood Joan was expecting us.”
I sighed, the wind taken out of my sails by the realization of my failure. “Yeah, maybe. But we’ve been on a bit of a spree lately. It makes sense they’d see us coming. We keep succeeding! Can’t be good for their image.”
Hofal turned to me slightly. “No, I think this was something different. They had an attack team ready for us. Their response was too quick. The moment you opened that chest, half the estate was waiting for us.”
That didn’t bode well. Because if the Company of the Rat had a leak of information, we’d need to plug it before our entire ship went down.
Toren Daen
I skidded to a stop once I finally reached the outskirts of East Fiachra, a place I knew quite well. Huffing slightly from exertion, I took out the ring I had stashed in my pouch. It was a small band of silverish metal: unadorned with no distinguishing features. I slipped it onto a finger and then funneled a stream of my mana into it.
A steady stream of information about the contents of the storage ring funneled into my mind, making my breath hitch. With a flux of mana, I pulled the small tablet of ice from the ring to my waiting palm. Etched into the ice were important notes here about several of Blood Joan’s operations: specifically a few of the businesses they owned and used to finance themselves. There were a decent number of locations listed, but most were in West Fiachra.
As I looked down on this boon of information, the past twenty minutes began to truly settle onto me like a heavy weight. I had revealed myself to Blood Joan inadvertently. I had fought their goons to protect the two Rats, and in the process lost much of my element of secrecy. The Joans would be wary of me now.
And the way I was able to fight without a hint of hesitation. The ‘me’ from Earth would never be able to do that, never so easily punch and kick and slash at living, breathing people. But Toren… Toren had been raised in the martial society of Alacrya, where weakness meant death. His entire upbringing he was taught that he would have to fight.
I wasn’t Toren; not exactly. Toren’s childhood was not my own: we only became a single person at the intersection that was Norgan. But I found myself wishing in some depths of myself that I would’ve faltered in that fight. That I would’ve slipped and hesitated, if only because I was fighting people, not beasts.
That would be familiar. It would be something that the ‘me’ from Earth would do, where the value of human life was understood to be the highest of things. To be so willing to fight proved to me on some level that I was far, far from Earth.
The ice tablet in my hand was beginning to melt now that it was no longer suffused with the caster’s mana. I hastily retrieved my notebook from my sling bag, writing the information down with quick movements in my personal cipher.
When I was done, the structure of ice had finally transformed into water. I noted that it melted a great deal faster than ice would normally. Something about matter made from mana, perhaps?
I looked down at my notebook, my gaze roving over the small scribbles of knowledge and possible futures. This book was to be the home of my plans and ideas for the future.
But I had not written a single plan to get my revenge for Norgan.
The full weight of my situation pressed down on me like a heavy blanket, causing my shoulders to slump. The reason there were no plans for my revenge was for the exact same reason I had no concrete plans for how I was going to kill Nico. I didn’t know enough. I lacked the pieces required to make a scheme that would see me through.
My scouting of the Joan estate was to fill in some of the pieces. Maybe I would catch how the guard patrols worked. Or perhaps I could decipher different entry points for the building. I could even figure out who was in the mansion at what time.
But those were half-baked. I had a goal: revenge on Blood Joan. But what did that even entail? Destroy their businesses? Rip their livelihoods from the ground and break it under my feet?
No, I thought. Maybe, I need only kill one person. The woman who slew Norgan: only she needs to die, whoever she is.
I didn’t think I had any right to judge when somebody deserved death, but that wasn’t the basis of my actions. That woman had slain my brother, so I would kill her in turn. Simple as that.
But even if I cemented my goal, I still needed information. I didn’t even know the woman’s name, only that she shadowed the ‘scion of Blood Joan,’ who was likely Lawris Joan, and that she had some sort of spellform that coated her body in lightning.
The only information I had was given to me by the Young Rat, and I didn’t know if I could trust that at all.
But I didn’t have much of a choice. My attempt at gathering information had been a bust, and I had revealed myself far too soon. There was no other avenue for information available.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
I looked up at the stars, whose glow was muted by all the light about the nighttime city. My mask didn’t restrict my eyesight in the slightest, allowing me to marvel at them just as I had in the Clarwood Forest. It seemed a wonder to me that something so beautiful could be in a world so full of death and destruction.
I had found the resolve to kill the woman who had taken my brother from me. I wondered, then, was this some effect of Toren making me so willing to end another’s life? Or did I always have this grim resolve, even back on Earth?
—
I slowly walked the streets of West Fiachra the next morning, strolling over waterways and watching men with their runes shown for all to see chatter with boatmen and merchants. The classic Alacryan tunic that had a split down the spine to display spellforms was gaudy, and as Arthur so eloquently put it, a great way to tell an enemy everything you were capable of. I was back in my gray-blue tunic now, with dark trousers and boots. For once, I didn’t have my sling bag over my shoulder.
All of my possessions, minus my dagger, were stored in the dimension ring the Young Rat had liberated from her foe. It wasn’t particularly large: only enough for a small crate’s worth of items. But that was more than enough for everything I owned. The unadorned silver ring was worn over my left thumb, standing out against the dark fingerless gloves I bought to conceal my chain tattoo.
I was headed to a familiar building: the West Fiachra Library. I entered with a confident stride, surveying it once more. It was a remarkable structure: the multifloored sections of the building reminded me of some of the famous libraries of Earth. Same as last time, several students in uniforms wandered the place and studied in corners. That was also remarkably Earth-like, sending a pang of longing through me.
I walked to the receptionist’s desk again. The same boy from before was on shift now, and if possible he looked even more tired. His light brown hair was a disheveled mess and his glasses had slid down his nose. I hesitated to ask a question, realizing I could probably find what I was looking for if I tried hard enough and that the boy seemed to really need some rest. He seemed about to doze off as I watched him.
He noticed me before I could make a decision, however. “Ah, hello,” he said tiredly, fixing his glasses. “What can I help you with today?”
“Oh, I’m wondering if you have a section for mana beasts native to the Clarwood Forest,” I said, scanning the sections again. “I know some of the beasts native there, but not all.”
The boy shot a glance at my hand, which was now covered by a glove. No doubt he remembered my tattoos. Then he nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got a few books for that, but there are only a few that you can trust,” he said. “And they’re a bit difficult to find, even with directions.”
He got up slowly from his seat, stretching a bit to work out the stiffness. “Oh, you don’t have to help me,” I said hurriedly, feeling slightly guilty that the kid had been pulled from whatever he was doing. He needed a nap.
The kid shook his head, moving away from his desk and gesturing me to follow. “No worries. I can’t afford to fall asleep, so moving just a little bit is bound to wake me up.”
I followed behind a step. “You seem in dire need of some coffee,” I said idly. “Is working here so tiring?” I asked, partly in jest.
The receptionist frowned at the word. “Coffee?” he asked, confused.
Oh, god, I thought in genuine pity. Did Alacrya not have coffee?! How did people function here?
“You could use something to wake you up,” I offered instead.
The boy snickered slightly. “No, I have another job that sometimes takes up my nights. Messes with my sleep a bit.” He turned slightly. “I’m Wade, by the way.”
“Toren,” I replied. I surveyed the general clientele of the library. Most were younger men and women, around Wade and I’s respective ages. “Have you worked here long?” I asked as we started to walk up a flight of stairs to the second level, bookshelves passing us by. He looked like he could be a student himself.
Wade smiled tiredly, something that seemed a common thread for him. “Only a couple of years. I love to read, I don’t have to do too much, and the pay is good. What’s not to love?” he said with a slight chuckle.
“I used to read so much,” I said a bit wistfully. One of the saddest things about transmigration to a different world was that I wouldn’t get to read the endings of my favorite novels. “I’ll have to get back into the habit. Just let the hours drift by.”
Though considering how one fantasy world I knew of turned out to be real, I was suddenly thinking of all my previous books with a lot more anxiety. Who knew how fictitious they really were?
Wade nodded. “Nothing quite like a good book to escape the monotony of life,” he said, turning a corner and passing some students who were in deep discussion over a paper.
He stopped, gesturing to a section named ‘Mana Beasts.’ The shelves were subdivided into different columns, with one specifically marked ‘Fiachra.’ Wade picked out a couple of books in particular, showing them off to me.
“The Sehz-Clar Beastiary covers broader swathes of land than just Fiachra, but considering the size of the Clarwood Forest, there’s a substantial section for all the mana beasts within,” he said holding one of the books in the air. Then he held another higher. “The Beasts of the Clarwood Forest goes into much more detail than the Beastiary, but some of the information is slightly outdated. It won’t affect you too much, but just something to keep in mind.”
I nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” I said as he handed the books to me. I briefly surveyed the other books in the section before turning back to Wade. “I’m afraid I don’t have a library card,” I said a bit sheepishly. “Would I be able to sign up for one?”
Wade nodded, fixing his glasses once more. The rings under his eyes seemed almost as dark as a black eye. “That you can, Toren. If you’d follow me back to the front desk, I can get you registered.”
We made our way back to the desk, where Wade practically melted back into his chair. “I’ll just need a name and date of birth,” he said. “And your card will be ready in a minute or two.” He began to fuss with some sort of artifact, likely designed for creating library cards.
“June 12, 1719,” I said, rattling off Toren’s birthdate. I hesitated, then continued. “And Toren is fine.”
Wade looked up from the device, quirking a brow. “No Blood name?” he asked.
I didn’t see judgment in his eyes, but not having a Blood name was a mark of great shame in Alacryan society. They called you unblooded, as if the very liquid in your veins was stripped from you. “None,” I said evenly.
Wade just nodded, continuing to fidget with the device. Then, he lifted a familiar sphere-like object to me. It was nearly entirely see-through and several wires threaded it to the artifact in Wade’s other hand. I took it, remembering a device that looked exactly like it from when I bought my dagger. “Do I just imbue this with mana?” I asked.
“Yep,” Wade replied. “That’s the final activation cue. After that, your card is printed and you’re good to go.”
Following the instruction, I funneled a sliver of mana into the construct. As before, I felt the device react to my mana as it filled with a slight grey substance. When it stopped drinking in slivers of my energy, I cut the flow.
Wade handed me a card a second later, printed with my name and the letters ‘West Fiachra Library Card’ emblazoned across the front with a bookish design. I couldn’t tell what material it was made of: certainly plastic-like, but it had a texture almost like wood.
“Those two books are already loaned out on that card,” Wade said, sinking into his seat. “They’re yours for two weeks. Make sure to return them on time. The late fees can kill.”
“Thanks for your help, Wade,” I said earnestly, storing the books and the card in my dimension rune.
“No problem, Toren,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “I hope to see you again. Reading is always the best cure for boredom.”
I walked away with a chuckle. “That it is.”
—
I was camping on the roof of a worn-out building on the outskirts of East Fiachra. As I didn’t have a set home, this was the closest thing to shelter I could manage. The building was rarely used as far as I could tell, so I doubted anyone would pop up to shoo me off. I had a little area used for lighting fires and a small bedroll that I laid under a stone overhang to protect me from the rain. I would need to find some solution for bathing, but if worst came to worst I could just wash in the stream again.
I had observed both my old apartment building and the East Fiachra Healer’s Guild from a distance, worried that Blood Joan would’ve done something to them and also longing for familiar faces and times. Thankfully I couldn’t notice anything especially amiss, but I didn’t dare to check further.
That set some of my fears to rest, but I still couldn’t simply go back to living in the apartment.
I withdrew the Sehz-Clar Beastiary from my dimension ring, carefully avoiding damaging the cover. It was a nice hardcover book, with a design of an unfamiliar mana beast painted across the front.
Opening it up, I searched through the chapter list until I found the one I wanted: the Clarwood Forest. Flipping to that chapter, I skimmed through the pages after it. I saw familiar sights: skaunters, barkskin grohds, the flying apes–which were apparently called drift apes–and many more I had caught glimpses of in the forest. My hand stopped once I found my target.
On the page was a detailed illustration of a giant insect with a wicked sharp stinger and malicious, multifaceted eyes. Instead of a familiar yellow and black, it was colored a mixture of dark green and brown, giving it camouflage instead of blending in. The title was an ‘acidbeam hornet,’ which was disturbingly accurate.
These were the top predators of the deep Clarwood Forest. These insects were easy to dispatch one at a time: even several at once could be taken down with little difficulty. But when they attacked, they never attacked in small numbers. These things were as big as my head and worked in massive hives. According to the book, they operated on a hivemind that was linked through their queen. It allowed near seamless teamwork and coordination for the many-legged bastards when within a certain radius of their hivemother.
I knew how dangerous they could be. I once had the displeasure to watch them swarm a group of drift apes after I sent off a loud sound grenade.
Ever since then, I rarely ever used my sound grenades in the deep forest, fearing to draw the attention of these buzzing bastards. Because they didn’t come in ones and twos. They swarmed, and could projectile fire acid from their stingers. The only good option was to run.
But the reason I was researching this was simple: according to the info provided by the Young Rat, in a few days the Joans would be sending an expeditionary force to raid one of their ‘hives.’
And apparently, some very powerful members of Blood Joan would be participating.