Toren Daen

I growled, settling into my Acquire Phase on instinct as Cylrit’s intent–serious and sharp–slammed into me. The reassuring warmth of my Phoenix Will steadied my anger, focusing it and allowing me to block out the roiling guilt in my stomach. “Are you really going to do this, Cylrit?” I hissed, my hand clenching around Inversion.

Cylrit didn’t respond. My instincts blared at me, screaming that I needed to move. That I was in danger. All at once, the hairs on the back of my neck rose, sensing an electric tension in the air. Cylrit’s intent slammed into the atmosphere in tune with his mana. I barely had the time to inhale, shifting my stance in preparation.

And then the Retainer blurred. One moment he was fifty feet away. The next, he was simply gone.

The first thing I felt was pain–the flashing, disorienting kind, that made it hard to even think. A dull, crunching sound echoed out as the Vritra-blooded mage’s gauntleted fist–appearing as if out of nowhere–slammed into my collarbone. My shoulder buckled from the blow, the shattering of bone and tearing of muscle radiating all across my body like fire.

A crater the size of a house opened beneath my body as I was slammed into the ground by the force of a jackhammer. Stone rumbled around me as I cried out in pain, a wave of dust kicked up around us. My vision flashed red from agony, my decimated shoulder made all the more apparent.

“Toren!” my bond cried in worry, her words reaching me like lights in the fog. “He isn’t done! The Retainer is–”

“You are weak, Spellsong,” Cylrit’s voice hissed from above. A dark, plated hand thrust through the cloud of dust, cinching around my bloodied robes. He hauled me up, forcing me to look him in the eye. My hands–feeling exceptionally weak–gripped his metal gauntlets.

Inversion streaked in from the side, the point sharp and deadly as it aimed for the Retainer’s jaw. I snarled, blood dribbling from my lips as I glared at the Vritra-blooded mage.

His massive greatsword shifted, and suddenly, my telekinetically controlled weapon veered off to the side. I twisted in Cylrit’s grip, building a layer of plasma across my shin as I attempted to kick him in the chin with an attack coated in burning energy.

My shin hummed audibly as my leg blurred for the Retainer’s head in a streak of red. I felt the adrenaline in my veins, the pulse of both our exaggerated heartfires, and the sure sense of battle reinvigorating my blow.

Several things happened at once. Inversion slammed into Cylrit’s greatsword with a resounding clang, the magic surrounding it being absorbed into his pitch-black weapon. At the same time, my kick nearly hit his chin. Except the dark-haired man released my collar just in time, my spinning attack barely missing his jawline as he leaned back. His eyes darkened perceptibly as he sneered, the tip of my toe barely clipping his hair.

And then his fist struck me heavily in the side. His solid attack shattered my telekinetic shroud as if it didn’t exist, treating my greatest defense as if it were merely paper. His metal knuckles ground into the flesh beneath my ribs, sending a horrid jolt of pain into my liver. The force of the impact made me hover in the air for a split-second, my consciousness winking in and out from the pain as I achieved zero-gravity for the barest instant.

I didn’t even see what struck me next. I felt the impact across my jaw, the bone cracking and splintering from whatever had hit me. Against my own will, I blacked out from the attack, my brain rattling in my skull.

The next thing I knew, I was in a heap on the other end of the training room, pain radiating from a dozen different places. I groaned, blood pooling beneath me as I tried to pull together a cohesive thought through the searing agony.

Suddenly, I saw Aurora’s shade. Her face was marked with deep worry as her hands grasped my arms. She didn’t say a word as she pulled on my body, shifting me away from where I lay crumpled.

Aurora, I thought groggily, my control of my Will faltering. The red chains on my arms flickered slightly. What… what are you…

“And still, you refuse to dedicate yourself,” a voice radiated through the pain. For an instant, my head was cleared of the fire-ridden fog. Belatedly, I remembered the situation I was in. I was fighting. The pain began to clear as my lifeforce worked to wash away my wounds. “To my master and to her cause. Still, you hold back. Because of selfish reasons.”

I took Lady Dawn’s arm, using it to support myself as I slowly struggled to pull myself to my feet. I reasserted control of my Will, cementing my control once more. I looked at Cylrit, feeling my own sweat and blood as they soaked my clothes.

I’d known he’d been holding back in the several times we’d trained together. But I hadn’t expected the gap in power between us to be this big.

The Retainer was hovering high in the air, clenching Inversion in one hand. The scent of burnt flesh hit my nose, and I recognized that the horn was blackening the Retainer’s palm at an absurd pace. “You disgrace my master with your refusal to dedicate your everything. For all that she puts on the line, you refuse to cross your petty lines in return.”

Then he tossed Inversion into the air. It spun a few times in a mesmerizing way, the purple-streaked white horn spinning end over end like a flipping coin.

I felt my instincts–heightened by my assimilated Will and long combat experience–scream at me to move. The mana itself seemed to command me to shift, an impending danger I couldn’t see radiating through Cylrit’s intent.

The Retainer gripped his massive greatsword, cocking his arms back like a corkscrew as he levered his weapon like a baseball bat. The movement–though supernaturally fast–seemed to occur in slow motion to my enhanced eyes.

I understand, I thought, feeling dread course through my veins as I locked eyes with Cylrit. He radiated true killing intent: the desire, above all else, to drive that spike through my heart.

I had a split second to make a decision. I could try and dodge this coming attack, and maybe I even could. But the emotions I’d been restraining bubbled forward, writing themselves across my face as if in ink. I felt Aurora’s sturdy hand on my back, quiet affirmation and comfort radiating over our bond. She would follow whatever I decided to do.

And I was tired of asking questions. Tired of constantly thinking and second-guessing myself. I couldn’t afford to try and justify every single action I took. Sometimes, one needed to simply act.

Cylrit swung his sword just as Inversion came back down. His massive greatsword slammed into the back of the horn like the hammer of a god, exponential force billowing out from the strike in a flare of white. There was a booming explosion as Inversion broke the sound barrier, accelerating back toward me like a stake seeking my heart.

I exhaled, raising a single hand.

And caught Inversion, right before it would impale me through the eye. The sudden force of the missile stopping caused another shockwave to billow out, making my clothes ripple as the force traveled across my body.

I slowly lowered my hand, exhaling steam. My hair, which had escaped from where I’d tied it into a simple knot, shifted colors to a deep crimson. It blew in a breeze none could see. Feathered runes the color of simmering coals traced their way up my arms, their hue tinted slightly by how my vision shifted.

The entire world from my perspective was cloaked in misting shadow, only the remnants of mana that sparked around the battle platform standing out in contrast.

My eyes were like twin suns as they pulsed with their own light. I stared up at Cylrit, my posture adjusting itself automatically to banish the weakness I’d displayed before. I would not show anything less than perfection to my Vritra-blooded assailant.

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“You have been fond of testing me, Retainer of Sehz-Clar,” I said, my voice carrying a strange lulling cadence into the air. It was melodic and even, yet strangely chilling as well. “You long for battle, and now you have found it.”

Soulplume enveloped me in its burning, roaring embrace, my Phoenix Will pulsing in my mind like a star. It was difficult to separate Aurora and me from within the deluge of insight, but with the benefit of experience, I would not allow my soul to be subsumed by hers.

“So this is the power that slew Mardeth,” the Retainer said, his eyes squinting as they struggled to meet mine. I knew the glare to be overwhelming. “Good.”

I twirled Inversion, conjuring a shrouded saber. With a bare effort of will, white plasma erupted along its length, humming with heat enough to match a star.

But then the Retainer did something I did not expect. From where he hovered in the air, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, his intent simmering away from abject anger to something far calmer. With a bare wave, his pitch-black sword evaporated away into shadow, leaving the man unarmed as he stared across at me.

I cocked my head, inspecting Cylrit with a furrowed brow. Though the instincts from my Will urged me to lash out and strike a foe who had allowed themselves into a vulnerable position, I held myself back. “What has this been for, Retainer Cylrit?” I demanded, leveraging my humming weapon at the man. My core pulsed painfully from maintaining Soulplume, my mana draining at an absurd rate. And though Aurora was keeping her distance from my mind, I knew it was difficult for her to maintain. “You draw me into battle, and now you withdraw your blade? One cannot threaten another with a knife in the dark, and then proceed to retreat. That is cowardice.”

If I had not engaged Soulplume, I had no doubt that Cylrit’s attack–using my own weapon–could have killed me. Perhaps I could have avoided it, but the chances were slim enough that it could very well be treated as an attempt on my life.

Cylrit huffed in dismissal, crossing his arms behind his back. “Scythe Seris has decided to trust you. Decided to keep you closer than nearly any other,” he said. Though the words were even, with my sense for heartfire, I could hear as his lifeforce surged slightly at the mention of his master. “But while she has dedicated everything, you refused to do so. The resolve you show here?” He snarled, his lips curling upward. “Show it in every order from your Scythe. You will not disgrace her trust by acting halfheartedly. You will tear out the hearts of our enemies, or I will tear out yours.”

The Retainer spun on his heel, stalking away from the platform with the sound of plated boots on stone. His heartfire thundered in his chest, resoundingly dark from his Vritra blood. I watched him go, making certain I was in the clear before I finally released my hold on Soulplume.

I immediately fell to my knees as my hair reverted to its original color. My core squeezed painfully, a significant portion of my mana expended simply from maintaining my Second Phase for a minute or so. My limbs burned from exhaustion, and my mana channels strained. I blinked, my thoughts flowing like tar.

Though I’d released Soulplume, the Unseen cast to my vision hadn’t changed. I noticed as Aurora stepped beside me, looking thunderously angry.

“He does not know his place,” she hissed angrily. “To push you so far.”

I wiped the back of my palm against my mouth. It came away stained red. But he’s right, I thought with a snarl, pushing myself back to my feet with effort. My heart thumped in my chest as my adrenaline slowly receded. I’ve been holding back. Questioning myself about if I could keep my hands clean and my soul untainted. But I can’t. And I need to fucking accept that.

I stalked away from the platform, my emotions even more turbulent than they’d been when I first arrived. But now I at least felt like I could take the steps I needed to.

—

The next couple of days involved Seris’ council ironing out their plans for an assault on Burim. Jotilda Shintstone worked to covertly distribute information and formulate a solid plan with her forces. Cylrit and I remained silent and apart for the majority of the talks, a quiet and strained tension that weighed heavily on all present.

Seris herself never opted to bring it up, but all throughout that time, I was left to ferment in my strange sort of resolve. And all the many days of planning led to my current situation, where I stood with a few select dwarves at the edge of a tunnel. For the past few hours, we’d been following a singular dwarf along this tunnel as it went deeper and deeper. The heat had been picking up in intensity as time went on, leaving me to sweat heavily.

The dwarves weren’t much better. Gruhnd mumbled something through his beard as he wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead. The grammatically-challenged dwarf adjusted his crossbow from where it rested on his back. Borzen kept his gaze forward as he trailed along, his eyes focused on Olfred.

The dwarven Lance didn’t sweat like the rest, something that genuinely surprised me. Olfred had a determined cast on his face as he marched through the stone tunnel as our guide.

“Remind me again why we’re goin’ this deep into the earth?” Borzen grunted. His bright orange beard had darkened considerably from sweat. “I don’t see how this helps us get to Burim. I can feel the sweat on ma’ balls. If there’s a better way…”

Olfred turned back to Borzen, giving him a death glare. “Burim is a fortress,” he grunted out. “Two of its sides border the Sehz River and Bay of Burim respectively, meaning there’s no easy way to assault it from there. The Sehz River itself is one of the most defended and patrolled stretches in all of Darv because of its importance. And just like Vildorial, it's nigh impossible to assault without control of the tunnels. And it’d be folly to try and make our own tunnels. We’d be detected nearly instantly.”

Borzen’s hand rested near his mace in a manner I suspected helped comfort him. “Aye, we all know that, Lance,” the augmenter said. “But for all that we were selected for this super important mission, I don’t see why we gotta be goin’ toward Mother Earth’s arsehole to complete it.”

Gruhnd snorted from the side in amusement, his forked black mustache quivering. He said something in return, earning a disgusted look from Olfred and wide eyes from Borzen.

“By the stone, Gruhnd,” Olfred said, his voice low and aghast. “Keep that tongue to yourself. I could have stood to never hear those words in my life.” He shook his head, clearly trying to rid some sort of image from his mind. “But I suppose you have a point, Borzen. The resistance has been able to smuggle people into Burim, true, but the highest levels of the city–our target for today–are even more closely guarded. That’s where I come in.”

As if on cue, Olfred waved his hand at the stone. With a flex of mana, it seemed to liquefy, seeping away and opening a passage. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at what revealed itself beyond.

“The entirety of Burim is built within an old volcanic cavern,” Olfred explained casually. “The walls ruptured untold millennia ago, creating a direct passage to the Grand Mountain Strait just beyond. But while the entire cave isn’t filled with magma anymore, there is still constant flow through the depths.” He waved his hand toward the opening. “And this little river of rock? It will take us directly toward the top of the cavern.”

For the first time, I felt my trepidation rise as I stared at the sight before me. A painfully slow-moving river of molten rock seeped lazily forward at a snail’s pace, pulsing with untold heat. It stretched onward past our little tunnel opening, weaving south.

I knew beforehand what Olfred’s plan was to smuggle us close to the teleportation gates. Yet still, I felt my hands clench nervously. “How far does this tunnel of magma run?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

Olfred grunted. “Twenty miles, Toren,” he said, eying me. “It’ll be several hours of trekking, but it's the best way to infiltrate. Especially with my abilities.”

The Lance waved his hands, withdrawing a few items from his dimension ring. A few cylindrical tanks of metal were connected by pipes to what looked like ancient respirators, each designed to cover the entire face. A few straps were bolted to the metal, making it simple to sling over the shoulder. Overall, the design looked decidedly medieval.

“These tanks are filled with oxygen,” Olfred said, handing a set out to the flummoxed dwarves. “You’ll be wearing these so you don’t suffocate from the lack of air.”

Borzen’s eyes flicked from the river of magma, to the tank in his hands, then back again. “Warend, I don’t know about you,” he said, his voice sounding strained, “But I can’t just swim through lava!”

“It’s magma, not lava,” Warend countered gruffly, cinching his tank near his belt. “And ya won’t be swimming, you daft lug. I’ll be parting the flow for the length of our journey, allowing us to make it into the city entirely undetected. Especially as we get closer to the cavern, this magma bears magical properties that will act to hide our mana signatures. And once you put that mask on, don’t talk. You only have so much air available.”

Borzen nervously snapped the mask to his face, his eyes darting to me uncertainly. I shrugged, following suit. The dark river of glowing rock was certainly intimidating–and for this plan to work, OIfred couldn’t afford to falter for a moment–but I could do this.

With a flex of mana, the magma in front of us parted for Olfred like a curtain shifting away from a window. It was almost mesmerizing to watch–the slow-moving tide of rolling rock bending to the will of a single mage. A bubble appeared in the river, opening a perfect area for a few dwarves and a relatively tall man. Yet despite what must have been several tons of stone parting like a sea, the dwarven Lance didn’t seem strained in the slightest.

This was the crux of Olfred’s plan. Burim didn’t have mages patrolling the lava flows that stretched on for miles, because why would they? It would take a white-core mage with their control of organic magic to constantly affect the flows and keep themselves safe for infiltration, and there was only one such mage with a magma affinity–Olfred himself. It was an idea so far out of left field that I would be astonished if anyone could predict it.

The stone beneath the magma steamed visibly, the light warping from the heat it bore and creating a haze. Olfred stepped forward without hesitation onto the rock, coating himself in mana to protect himself from the heat. Molten rock churned over his head in a slow arc, seeping in a flow I couldn’t discern.

I took a deep breath–one of the last I could afford–then followed after him, entering the river of magma.