Toren Daen

I held the burnished steel dodecahedron in my hand, concentrating deeply on the flaring fire mana within. The metal was ever-so-slightly rough against the pads of my fingers, the texture helping me hold it firmly.

I imbued a bit of fire mana into the little puzzle, keeping my eye trained on the traced flame glyph on one of the faces. It was empty and dark, like a hearth whose fire had been out for a day. But as my fire mana engaged with the internals…

I frowned as I felt something… expand as my mana contacted it. When the structure expanded, it shifted the fire mana within, the energy diffusing in a strict pattern. If I focused, I could sense as the fire mana brushed against the fiery glyph, just beneath the surface. In reaction, a small part of the glyph lit up.

Seris had told me the aim of solving this puzzle was to light the glyph up fully. I furrowed my brow, then imbued a bit more mana into another portion of the internals. I felt as another bit of the structure expanded, pushing more energy toward the glyph at the front. But this expansion somehow caused my first imbuement to fade. While a different stretch of engraved lines glowed with a soft orange light, my initial progress was wiped away.

Okay, I thought, seeing the problem. It seems I have to imbue different parts of this puzzle in a select order. Activate one section, and it deactivates another. There’s a pattern I’ll have to manage if I want everything to activate at once, thus solving the puzzle.

I fiddled loosely with the puzzle for a few minutes more, imbuing it with different strains of mana. I tried to imbue two portions at once, thus dually activating those parts. I found that I couldn’t: the puzzle simply refused to respond when I did that.

There were dozens of these small interactions. Sometimes an activation deactivated two other ‘modules;’ sometimes only one. And I thought I understood what the dwarven artificers meant when they said it was a test for mana sensitivity. If I blocked out all other senses, I could just feel the path of fire mana as the activation of each module sent cascading ripples to the others, activating or deactivating them in turn.

But it wasn’t just a test for mana sensitivity, either. There was a pattern to this, like a logic puzzle from my previous life. I was reminded fondly of a dozen logic gates connected together in a computer.

So there are two ways to solve this, I reasoned. Through tracing the fire mana, or figuring out the pattern.

I exhaled, opening my eyes and unclenching my hands from the little puzzle. It was a surprisingly complex little thing, and I had no doubt it would take me a while to solve.

But I would solve it. I smiled, reaching into my dimension ring and withdrawing my journal. I flipped to a blank page, then began scribbling notes on the puzzle’s function.

This was something I’d done countless times on Earth. As a programmer, the fundamental method of creating an algorithm involved breaking a large, complex problem down into individual steps. Then, to achieve the desired outcome, I would solve those smaller problems, all while working toward a bigger goal.

And I’d long ago discovered that this methodology worked exceptionally well with these kinds of logic puzzles. I felt a smile split my face as I imagined Seris’ reaction after I eventually solved this. I hadn’t seen the woman display shock very often, and I hoped I could draw that out.

Thinking of Seris, however, dampened my mood slightly. Yesterday, I’d freed Olfred from his shackles. And truthfully, I didn’t regret doing so. But the Scythe’s reaction in the aftermath was what truly stuck in my mind.

After I’d pulled her away from Olfred, Seris’ intent had shifted from anger to shame and even… fear. The fear I’d felt radiating from the Scythe as she’d dropped Olfred and looked me in the eye was something that would stay with me for a long, long time.

Her eyes had blown wider than I thought I had ever seen them. Her pink lips had trembled nearly imperceptibly, and I could swear her hands had shook for an instant. She’d been so… rattled. I would have attributed it to the sudden appearance of Aldir, but I felt that couldn’t be true.

But what was she afraid of? I wondered, rolling the steel puzzle around in my hand. It couldn’t be of me, could it?

Afterward, she’d given me a surface-level punishment for disobeying orders: a temporary reassignment to the Beast Glades. I knew it was to send me away, but the nagging question of why still ate at me.

Olfred’s words of advice still sifted through my head. His warnings that Seris was dangerous to us both.

He’s right about that, I recognized. She is dangerous to us. But… I don’t think she is in the way he predicted.

I’d need to be more careful when I returned from this assignment.

Aurora was currently resting. Pushing back against Aldir’s incursion had drained her energy, sapping her of what strength she had. Our mental tether conveyed her deep sleep, a pulsing rhythm of calm and serenity peeking just over the horizon of my thoughts.

The fact that the pantheon General had no doubt seen my bond was another can of worms I wasn’t ready to open yet. I’d been so focused on staying under the radar in Alacrya, avoiding Agrona’s eyes and keeping my secrets close at hand, that I hadn’t deeply considered the forces of Epheotus learning of Lady Dawn’s survival.

My fingers clenched around the steel puzzle, and I had to restrain my strength to avoid crumpling it. I felt a tremor go through my body.

All it had taken was a look. The barest splash of Lord Aldir’s King’s Force had nearly killed me. The very mana had pulped my organs, battered my insides, and left me gasping for breath. Only my bond’s intervention had saved my life.

Not since Agrona have I felt so powerless, I thought, tracing the flaming glyph with my eyes. That was the might of a true asura.

Again, I found myself questioning what hope I had. Me, who wasn’t even powerful enough to guarantee victory against the least of the Scythes. What chance did I have to actually affect any outcome in this war? In this world? That was supposed to be Arthur’s destiny. And I was no Arthur.

In my previous life, I was just a blip in a crowd. Arthur had been a king.

Even the weakest asura could move through me like a boot over soft grass, and I was trying to deny such a being their greatest prize.

A knock on my door broke me from my spiraling thoughts. I raised my head, pulling the puzzle into my dimension ring.

“Yes?” I called out, my voice echoing slightly along the stone walls of my cavern room.

“It is Xander, Lord Daen,” a familiar voice said from the other side of the door. “Permission to enter?”

I sighed lightly. “Come in,” I said, standing up. I expected I knew what this was about.

Xander entered my room, his eyes darting around for a moment before settling on me. His moss-green hair coated his face like reeds, and his back was hunched as usual.

“I’ve been ordered to take you to the tempus warp,” he said. “And send you to the Beast Glades, Lord Daen.”

I nodded, stretching out my back. “Lead the way.”

Without another word, Xander turned on his heel, strolling out the door. I followed after the spy mutely. I watched as he moved with a sure purpose, each footstep intent on the path ahead.

“Say, Xander?” I asked, suddenly curious as he led me through the winding tunnels. ”How did you end up in Renea Shorn’s service?”

The young man’s footsteps halted for a moment. He turned over his shoulder, looking at me with surprising wariness. “Why do you want to know, my lord?” he said slowly.

I raised a brow, surprised by how guarded he seemed. I took a moment to respond, thinking of what to say. “I want to understand Seris,” I said after a while, thinking of that fear she’d projected over her intent. “And you’ve been a confidant of hers for a long time. If I want to know someone, knowing those close to them is a good way, no?”

Xander snorted as he turned around, a surprising level of bitterness radiating through his intent–even masked as it was by his artifact. “I’m not as close with her as you think, Spellsong,” he said with a caustic undertone. “You’ve managed to get into her graces faster than any I’ve seen, but you aren’t unique.”

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The man measured his tone when he spoke again. “But I was young when your Scythe approached me as Lady Shorn. The offers she made to my family made my employment with her more than worthwhile. And I gradually worked up the ranks through service and dedication. But that’s not really enough for my family.”

Yet the young man said it with a resigned sort of air that left me confused. “You don’t sound happy, though,” I said, rounding a bend in the caves. “Working this close to a Scythe is certainly a worthy station, isn’t it?”

Xander barked a bitter laugh. “My family doesn’t know I work for a Scythe, Lord Daen,” he said. “They weren’t allowed to know. Which might be why…” he shook his head absently, dismissing those thoughts.

It seems his family treats him poorly for his perceived station, I thought with a furrowed brow. He seems to come from a powerful blood.

“If it’s worth anything,” I said into the silence that followed Xander’s last statement, “I think you will get the recognition you deserve. Seris is kinder than she lets others think.”

The spy looked at me with hooded eyes after those words, but didn’t comment. We reached the room that I’d used last time to tempus warp soon after, the silence deafening.

On a nearby podium, the tempus warp sat. If I looked close enough, I could make out a few hairline cracks across its surface, which were common indicators of a tempus warp reaching the end of its lifespan.

Xander walked forward stiltedly, laying his hand on the surface of the anvil-shaped artifact. “You’ll be portalled to the Beast Glades, where the camps are under the direction of Commander Cylrit,” the spy said with a sigh. “I’d wish you luck, Lord Daen, but we both know you don’t need it.”

I closed my eyes, internally lamenting the fact that I’d be placed directly under Cylrit’s command. The stern Retainer and I did not like each other, and no small part of me worried the man would set me on latrine duty or something the moment I arrived.

“Wish me luck anyway,” I said, stepping forward. “You never know when that might come in handy.”

Xander snorted, then activated the artifact. A shimmering purple portal fuzzed into existence in the center of the room, casting everything in a light violet glow. “Good luck, Spellsong,” he said.

I nodded, then stepped through the portal, the cool pane of violet swallowing me whole.

I immediately shivered as I stepped into the cold winter weather. On instinct, I coated myself in a layer of fire mana, surveying my surroundings.

All around me, trees stretched high into the sky. I had appeared in a clearing, the grass beneath my feet frosted over. The sounds of bustling work echoed into the sky as soldiers took refuge beneath the boughs of trees, most shivering uncontrollably as they huddled in small groups.

And considering Cylrit was standing right in front of me, it seemed he’d been expecting my sudden appearance.

“Cylrit,” I said with a nod, still surveying the area around me. I counted fifty or so mages directly around, but surprisingly, no beasts. “I’d say I was happy to see you again, but that would be a lie,” I said with a smirk.

The annoyingly handsome scarlet-eyed Retainer pierced me with his stare. “I have been tasked with directing your abilities as are best seen fit, and thus, you have been placed directly under my command,” he said with a voice cold as ice. “And you will start by addressing me by my title, Spellsong.”

Do not punch that jaw, I told myself. No matter how good it would feel, you can’t mess this up.

I furrowed my brow. “Well then, Retainer Cylrit,” I said, feeling my smirk twitch with irritation as I did my best to make his station sound like the sort of word used to describe a pest infestation rather than the greatest honor in all of Alacrya, “What do you have in store for me?”

Cylrit turned around, his dark plate boots trampling the grass as he strode away. “Follow,” he commanded. “You can do that much, since you cannot fly,” he said, walking away.

I ground my teeth as I fell in behind Cylrit, both of our intents radiating quiet contempt. The Retainer led me at speed through the trees, weaving on a well-trodden path. Everywhere we went, we were met with hostile stares, though many were fearful.

Cylrit led me to a large stack of crates deeper in the forest, the shadows overhead casting them in darkness. Around the jenga-like tower of boxes, soldiers performed their duties in armor camouflaged and shaded to blend in with their surroundings.

As we approached, the soldiers–who each looked like they’d fit in better with Rambo–gradually turned their attention to us. I could practically taste the hostility in their intent. And considering the strength I could sense from each mage, I knew they were powerful in their own right.

“Captain Redwater,” Cylrit said sternly to one of the men at the lead. “Prepare me one hundred vials of liquid corruption. They are to be delivered directly to my command tent in the next twenty minutes.”

The man Cylrit had addressed bore dark smudges of paint beneath his eyes. His standard-issue gray and red armor had been colored in browns and forest greens, and the pauldrons were removed to expose his boulder-like shoulders. His messy hair was cut close to his head, accentuating his guerilla-esque appearance. The soldier sat on the edge of one of the crates, looking down on all the operations below. The edges of his lips began to curve up into a sneer at being called on.

“One hundred in twenty minutes?” the captain said slowly. He made a show of looking around at the camps. “I’m not sure we can manage that so quickly, Commander,” he said in faux subservience. “I’m sure we can get it done in an hour or two instead. What say you, boys?” he said, leaning back where he perched.

His subordinates, all lounging around the crates themselves, snickered slightly. “Yeah, might take us a little while,” one jeered. “We’ve got all this work we need done. It's gotta wait its turn.”

Cylrit’s cool gaze settled on the lackey who had spoken out of turn–a man with his hair nearly shaved to his head–and flexed his killing intent. The man fell off his seat, gasping for air.

The captain’s hand immediately darted to a pair of kukris on his belt as his subordinate toppled, gasping for breath like a fish on dry land. The mocking atmosphere shifted into one far more confrontational and deadly as each soldier glared down at Cylrit.

“You will bring me one hundred vials,” Cylrit said, his voice just as devoid of inflection as ever, “And I will not cut off your heads for military insubordination. Am I clear?” he aksed, his tone dipping dangerously as he stared up at the captain.

I could taste the tension in the air, drawn taut as a bowstring. My brow furrowed as I shifted my stance slightly, mana thrumming through my veins in anticipation. The entire forest seemed to have gone silent, save for the man slowly choking on his own breath.

“Fine,” the captain at the top snarled. “You’ll have your supplies, traitor.”

Cylrit’s intent released the man on the ground, who had been reduced to a burbling mess of tears. I could smell the acrid stench of urine radiating from him, making my nose wrinkle. “It will not be a minute late,” the Retainer of Sehz-Clar said with finality.

The way he said it–a plain statement of fact–dared the rough soldiers guarding the crates to do otherwise. To see what he would do to them if they disobeyed.

Cylrit turned on his heel, marching through the forest once more as he left the rugged commandos behind. I followed after a beat later, my gaze lingering on the captain. He glared at me with undisguised hatred, and I could feel that fury even as the trees eclipsed him from view.

“So,” I said into the awkward silence as we approached a tall tent, “What exactly was that about?”

Cylrit sneered. “These troops were commanded by Retainer Uto before his defeat,” he said stiffly. “They do not appreciate being commanded by one from Sehz-Clar–me in particular. The military bloods in charge keep their grudges long.”

Ah, I thought. The Redfeud War. That explained the hostile looks we’d been receiving throughout the forest.

And the captain had called Cylrit traitor.

“But still, it’s surprising that that captain would even try to defy you,” I said, raising my brow in silent question. There was a story here I was unaware of.

After a moment, Cylrit acquiesced to my silent question. “Those men are the Bastards Victorious,” he said with a snort. “A small group of powerful high-tier mages who were trained and led directly by Retainer Uto. But the former Commander picked his subordinates for their cruelty first and their strength second.” His lips drew to a thin line. “Were I like Uto, I would simply kill all seven there. Captain Jordan Redwater in particular is a monster in his own right, Spellsong, but they carry significant repute with the troops I am forced to lead.”

I exhaled through my teeth. “So you can’t push too hard,” I said, filling in the blanks, “Or else you risk alienating your entire force further.”

I did not envy Cylrit his current station, but if anyone could pull these Vechorians into line, I reluctantly acknowledged it would be him. “And what will I be doing here?”

Cylrit turned to me right before we reached the tent. His cold eyes stared me down, and I felt my fists clench at my sides as I sensed his quiet dislike radiate outward. I narrowed my eyes, matching his stare.

Seris’ Retainer was only a few inches taller than me, which made him stand out like a pillar of dark steel as I stared up at him.

“You have continued to endanger my master’s wellbeing, Spellsong,” he said. “And it appears she has sent you here for some measure of punishment. So that is what I shall do.”

I ground my teeth. “And how would you define punishment, Cylrit?”

“The task of the lower soldiers in this front of the war is to infect as many beasts with corruption as possible. As the beasts are corrupted and corralled under the effects of beastwards, they will be gathered into a horde,” the dark-haired man said. “And considering your strength, it should be no challenge for you to join them in this task.”

“Great,” I breathed out. It actually was perfect for my plans, but there was a catch here. Something the infuriating Retainer would do to grind in the knife. “So, what are you going to do to make this even worse for me?”

The edge of Cylrit’s lip curled up barely, saying a million words just on its own. “I will not have you here for long, Spellsong, and you will work for all you are worth. I expect ten AA-class mana beasts corrupted in the following week. If you fail this task, then I will be forced to keep you for an extended period until you can learn to follow orders.”

I exhaled through my nose. Ten AA-class beasts would be nearly impossible for anyone, me included. But I had more than a few tricks up my sleeve. “Well, I’ll just have to do that then, won’t I?” I said, stalking past the Retainer toward the tent he’d led me toward. I’d gathered that was to be my home base, per se. “Anything else, Retainer Cylrit?”

There was a pregnant pause that made me turn around once more, looking back toward the Retainer. He had a pinched expression on his face: one that made my brows rise in surprise.

“Scythe Seris cares for you, Spellsong, though I cannot fathom why,” he said begrudgingly, his words coming out stilted. “And as I am tasked with serving my master, I must insist you do not get yourself killed or hurt in this process. She would be… hurt by such an outcome. In more ways than one.”

As the Retainer’s words washed over me, I realized I felt wrong-footed. Cylrit’s intent receded back into himself, and I felt my underlying dislike for the Retainer shift in uncertainty. He and I had settled into a mutual understanding–and respect–of one another in the wake of the War Summit. We didn’t like each other, but neither did that mean we needed to constantly try and rip out each other’s throats.

“I have no plans to die so easily. Try not to trip on your ego, Cylrit,” I said with a sigh, striding toward the tent. “I’d be forced to pick you back up.”