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Toren Daen
“It’s difficult to explain,” I said, frowning at the three patches of blood in the sand. I could hear the little flickers of my heartfire within as they stayed for a short time in the crimson. “But the aether within kind of… pushes the mana along. Squeezes it and perpetuates its flow.”
Seris stared down at Circe’s array with a very, very speculative face. “When you said you would tell me of your abilities, Toren,” she said slowly, “I’ll admit I was expecting something more…” She hesitated, finding her words. “Impactful.”
I snorted. After Seris had agreed to help me refine my abilities in combat, I’d taken her up to the sands above Burim, and immediately laid out this little array. “It doesn’t look like much, I know,” I said, sensing my tenuous connection to the dissipating lifeforce, “but just watch.”
I reached out a tendril of invisible heartfire, connecting me once more to the burning embers in my blood. Then, as I felt the strange connection between me and the blood, I snapped my fingers.
The array flared to life, and mana and heartfire began to cycle. They perpetuated each other in a feedback loop as I withdrew the active touch of my heartfire, cycling round and round as they hummed with light. The effect was palpable in the ambient mana, a beacon to any nearby.
Seris’ eyebrows rose. “I think I see now,” she said, stalking around the array as she scanned it over. “The mana flow is far higher than it should be considering the previous dormancy of the mana you inputted into your blood. There is something else I cannot sense influencing this… heartfire?”
I nodded. “I’m not able to use this exactly in the way the person I studied could. It was only when I realized that I can’t influence lifeforce beyond my body that I truly realized my limitations–and my strengths.”
My insight into heartfire was derived from my personal experiences and a mesh of phoenix and djinnic insight. Circe Milview only had the touch of djinnic ancestry to guide her, as well as an entirely different perception of the world and all that was in it.
Maybe somebody else could, but I wouldn’t ever be able to manipulate heartfire that was no longer connected to me. Why could I? When a limb was severed, was one still able to move it? To twitch a finger or draw lines in the sand?
It was contrary to my path of aetheric insight. Only with this understanding did I begin to focus inward instead of outward, leading to Resonant Flow.
Seris’ eyes widened as they traced the rebounding path of mana and aether. She moved a bit closer, seeming entranced by the interplay. “And all it took was a little blood… No, lifeforce. Such a ritualized magic could be used for many, many more applications than just a beacon.”
A slight smile rose on my face. “You’re right about that,” I said a bit smugly, thinking of the technique I’d developed using this concept.
Seris strode from point to point to point, following each node of blood. Her eyes were fixed on the mana rather than me. “Theoretically, the excess energy could be siphoned off and used to power artifacts,” she mused. “It is an effective way to essentially increase mana production. Just use a little blood and an ignition primer of some sort…”
My excitement very quickly started to dwindle. My arrogant smirk felt very frozen on my face as Seris continued nonchalantly.
“And if these flows were tuned correctly… Hmmm… Perhaps they could even be used to… No, that would be supremely difficult.”
Damn… I probably should have thought of that, though doing so would be contrary to my insight.
Seris looked up from her inventor’s ramble, blinking as she saw the uncertain expression on my face. “Why the look, Toren?” she queried, raising a brow.
I coughed, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It’s nothing,” I dismissed. “Sometimes I forget that you're a genius of many talents, including mana craft and artificing.”
Seris’ brows rose high in incredulity. “If you have ever forgotten my virtues in any capacity, then I’ve failed to live up to my moniker as Scythe,” she said simply. But her gaze softened as she noticed my slight awkwardness. “You certainly wanted to create some sort of extravagant and wry show with this little array as a prelude to something bigger that you wanted to show off. Did I ruin your fun?
I grumbled in slight annoyance. “Yeah, a little,” I admitted with a bit of a sulk. “It would have been very impressive. But it’s also amazing that you saw so many possibilities so quickly, Seris. That’s far more important than any sort of theatrics I could have played.”
Seris rolled her eyes. “Your sense of theatrics is what led to that entire scandal with the Ascender and the Sorceress. It was needlessly showy and over the top. If reminding you of my talents and virtues is all it takes to wipe that arrogant smirk off your face, perhaps I should do more to curb your excessive tendencies, Toren.”
I snorted in response, feeling light at the recollection of that time. “Please. You thought I was charming.”
That earned a slight glare from the Scythe across from me. “Charming? Absolutely not. Earnest, foolish, and overly idealistic? Yes.”
I swiveled on my foot, not gracing the Scythe with a response other than a smug grin that was purposefully more shit-eating than usual. The emotions I sensed over her intent were enough to satisfy any sort of argument we might have had. “Sure, sure,” I said leisurely. “Tell that to your intent.”
Seris: zero. Toren: one.
Seris huffed in annoyance behind me, but I ignored it. “Now, before you so rudely interrupted my theatrics with how brilliant and wonderful you are,” I said, closing my eyes as I focused on my heartbeat, “I was going to show you this.”
I took a deep breath, stoking my lifeforce. Then I pressed my heartbeat, demanding it to pulse.
A wave of power radiated out from me as Resonant Flow engaged, heartfire streaming along and through my mana channels. I felt as they constricted and expanded in equal turn, the flow of mana perpetuating itself in a loop of power. The mana around me warped strangely.
I opened my eyes, maintaining the technique for a few seconds as I stared at the Scythe. The scars across my body all burned with dawnlight as lifeforce misted from them like light through a window pane. Orange-purple cracks seemed to stretch over my heart, hands, and brow as I flexed my power.
With every beat of my heart, it made the air around me tremble and resonate, the power behind it like a war drum. Seris’ brows rose a fraction of an inch as her eyes roamed over my body in a way I couldn’t tell was entirely appropriate, a bare smile tugging at the edges of her lips.
And then I let it go, exhaling as I felt my heart ache from the use of the technique. I resisted the urge to groan, healing over the lingering strain on my mana channels and veins.
Seris strode over, her eyes flickering as she traced a pristine finger along the scar on my chest. The flesh felt tender in the wake of Resonant Flow, and I restrained the urge to tense as the Scythe teased me. She raised her finger so it brushed against the bottom of my chin, then leaned forward ever-so-slightly. “An interesting technique,” she said approvingly. “Yet I can see from the sweat along your brow and the way your shoulders heave that it isn’t one you use lightly. You cannot use this for extended periods, only short bursts. But is this all you want to show me? Or is there more? We need to know all you can do, after all.”
I took Seris’ hand in mine, squeezing it for a beat before I pushed it playfully aside. Her eyes narrowed. “There is always more to show,” I said innocently. Then a little bit less innocently. “But what you’re doing with your intent…”
Seris’ smile—and her intent—were both hungry in a way that made me realize I might be out of my depth. Aurora pointedly scoffed, turning her thoughts from mine as I digested interesting sensations from the Scythe’s emotions.
“There’s always room to grow stronger, Toren,” Seris sighed. “I’m merely practicing one such avenue. You see, I had a question of my own.”
The Scythe circled me a few times, her face a careful mask. I turned, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise as I kept her in my sight. “I’ve been experimenting somewhat in your absence—about what intent is, and how it might be detected and controlled. You are not the only person to utilize this method to sense emotions, and I thought it wise to understand all aspects I could.”
It was slow at first, but I could taste the emotions she ritually cycled through as she stared into my eyes. I could taste in some way that they were false, pretenses. There was amusement, distaste, melancholy…
“Hmm,” I said, not entirely impressed, “that’s neat, but I can tell when an emotion is only surface level. That’s not going to fool–”
Oh. And then there was that earlier… hunger. Okay. That wasn’t fake.
“Oh,” the Scythe teased coyly, drifting forward. “I wondered if you could sense that. Interesting. Is it an entirely separate emotion or more… distinct?”
The way her lips curled around the word distinct served to do wonders in distracting me from what we should have been doing. Which was training. And figuring out mana. Something like that.
“And considering you can sense the intent of every mage that crosses your path, then have you felt this before?” The Scythe’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as she inspected me, a hand holding her chin.
I blinked, opening my mouth to say something. “Well, yeah,” I said a little dumbly. “I’ve sensed it from plenty of other–”
That was when I finally felt the trap. As a mage who had been in and out of combat, I’d gained a sense for when a serpent’s jaws were closing around me. It was a crucial instinct that kept me alive. And as one of Seris’ pure silver brows rose speculatively and sweat beaded down my neck, I realized that I was in a very, very precarious position.
“Plenty of other who, Toren?” Seris prodded again, raising her chin as she stared at me expectantly, still bludgeoning my intent sense.
The Scythe’s eyes narrowed into little pleased crescent moons as she watched me try and figure out what exactly I was supposed to say in response.
In my previous life, there had been video games I’d played where there were things called quick-time events. As I stood frozen for a very, very long second, I had the very real sense that I had missed a quick-time event of some sort. But I had no idea what sort of metaphorical button I should have pressed at that moment. I halfway considered begging Aurora for the right answer.
Finally, I sighed in defeat, recognizing there was no way out. “You win,” I admitted, “I’m still not going to say it.”
Point to Seris. I supposed we were even, now.
The Scythe patted me on the shoulder, seeming very, very pleased with herself. “I told you that I always do,” she replied, amusement written clear across her features. “Are you sure you don’t want to try again, though? You might get a win somewhere.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly at the very prim and proper-looking woman, noting the way she very intentionally kept a stoic and dignified exterior while basically attacking my intent sense. “You are a scheming woman, aren’t you? We’re supposed to be sparring, aren’t we?”
“Careful, Toren,” Seris replied playfully, a dark saber of mana sizzling into existence in her hands. “I know my way around the blade. And the last time we sparred, I proved your superior.” Her silver eyelashes danced. “Do you think you can manage a victory this time?”
I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. I gradually felt a wry smirk grow across my face as I fell into my Acquire Phase, a shrouded saber coated in red plasma shimmering in my hands as I stretched my lifeforce out through my hands.
“You know something, Seris,” I said slyly, “you might just get burned with the way you’re pushing.”
Without a hint of warning, I blurred toward the Scythe with a mindfire stamp, the saber in my hand flashing as shrouded wings grew around me. I felt the rising surge of adrenaline as I swung my sword in a crescent arc.
But Seris easily shifted, parrying my blow in a dance of red and black. A buzzing sound echoed out as my shrouded saber rebounded off her dark mana blade. Her thin lips stretched into a smile as she flew back toward the Bay of Burim behind us.
She swung her sword, and tendrils of dark energy grew from the tip of her weapon. They expanded, wreathed in purple-tinged dark fire as they raced for me like biting serpents.
I parried a few with my blade, red sparks flying, before weaving around the snap of another. My shrouded wings flared as I coated them in a layer of disrupting sound, before using them to bat away a few tendrils.
My sound spell detonated on contact, reverberating along Seris’ dark energy as it traced back to her. Predictably, the Scythe sensed it coming, allowing those darting snakes of mana to fuzz away before my attack could land.
I exhaled a breath, then blurred forward again, my wings carrying me through the air as my Acquire Phase burned hot in my veins. Seris casually flicked her mana blade at me, arrows of dark energy appearing whenever she swung her sword. They hissed as they flew toward me, promising decay and pain.
In response, I pulled a dozen feathers from my shrouded wings, accelerating them toward each mana arrow like flickering wasps. Motes of contained fire and sound were barely compressed within as I sent them off like hummingbirds to intercept the Scythe’s dark arrows.
Wherever they met, my shrouded feathers detonated in a conflagration of fire and disrupting vibration–yet surprisingly, Seris’ mana arrows managed to fly through most of my retaliatory attacks relatively unscathed. I was forced to bat them aside with my shrouded saber and smash them out of the sky with fire-coated telekinetic pushes, yet wherever my blade sheared through a black arrow, they burst into spheres of purple-tinged soulfire that tried to bite at my skin. I had to dodge and weave out of the way of the remaining arrows, adrenaline pounding in my chest.
I’d been occupied by maneuvering around Seris’ attacks, but I certainly sensed the next one coming. A wave of decay-attribute soulfire surged toward me from above, seeking to wither away my protections and consume me whole.
I gritted my teeth as it approached, then engaged my regalia. A trilayer barrier of pushing force, oscillating sound, and humming fire thrummed as it rose to intercept the moon-blessed mage’s attack.
I felt Seris’ fire eat and worm its way through my protections, gradually breaking them down as the expansive tide of dark casually pushed through. Sensing I wouldn’t be able to maintain this, I flapped my shrouded wings, surging upward and relinquishing my barrier.
And came face-to-face with the woman herself. My eyes widened in surprise as her lips neared mine, our heartfires roaring with adrenaline as the world seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes danced in a way I had never seen, her dark dress flaring around her as she blocked out the darkening sky. I tried desperately to pull my wings in closer; to move my blade between us as I sensed what was about to happen.
Seris’ hand, in a painfully slow movement, brushed against my chest. And then she pushed.
I shot backward like a bullet, my telekinetic shroud splintering and breaking as a shockwave echoed around us. My body broke the sound barrier as I hurtled through the air, a tumble of limbs and wings as my vision spun.
I didn’t know how far I flew, but when I finally managed to get my senses back and stabilize my flight, I was halfway over the Bay of Burim, the sea glimmering beneath me with unfathomable depths.
I focused on where I sensed the dark hurricane of Seris’ power as she hovered far away, her hand still outstretched from her casual shove.
Damn, I thought, gritting my teeth as my telekinetic shroud healed over. I flapped my wings, watching the dark mage warily. I knew Seris was powerful, but I never imagined the difference between us was this much.
The Scythe’s amused expression was my only reward for this entire spar.
“Come on,” she said chidingly as she locked her hands behind her back with the grace of a queen. “I know you can do so much better than this. Where’s the heat you promised me? I’m not burned yet.”
And then she fuzzed—and blurred. She blurred, both in intent and heartfire. Not because she’d masked them, no, but because she was just that–
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I felt Seris’ hand near my back, tinted with dark decay as it traced along my telekinetic shroud, withering it away with casual ease. I felt a rise of unconscious fear as she leaned over my shoulder, her silver hair splaying across my chest like patterns of moonlight. I froze as her lips brushed against my ear.
“Not fast enough, Toren,” she said in a low, haunting tone, her hand poised right over my heart. “If you want me to help you…” Her fingers pressed deeper, finally touching my back. I felt the skin wither and die. “You’ll have to stop showing me so little.”
I hadn’t even sensed her approach, her speed that much beyond mine.
I restrained the urge to swallow, feeling as if a reaper loomed over my shoulder with a scythe across my throat. My heartrate rose, in part from adrenaline and in part because of her closeness. I chanced a glance to the side, looking Seris in her dark, haunting eyes. Her lips were curled in what was almost a malicious smirk.
“You are a Scythe indeed. I think I let myself forget that too often, alongside all the genius.” I took a deep breath, even as Seris’ warm fingers pressed against my skin in silent threat. “But you can’t discount me, either.”
I embraced my Second Phase, feeling as my eyes burned and my hair shifted color. Mana rushed through my body in rejuvenating waves as the insight of countless asura hummed secrets of the world in the flow of my blood. I flexed my wings, then let them burst with a flare of telekinetic feathers, each imbued with white plasma.
Seris was blown backward, her dark dress tumbling as my feathers chased her like streaks of light. She shifted her mana blade, then let it elongate into a many-tailed whip with ends of scathing soulfire. She snapped it, each of the tails surging for my feathers as they burned silently.
Yet under my precise control, each of the feathers dipped under her questing whips. They surged unerringly toward her, primed to riddle her with sizzling holes.
Seris frowned slightly, unperturbed, then flexed her mana. A translucent, dome-like barrier of black energy encompassed her like a cocoon, sheltering her.
And then my feathers hit. They thunked into the barrier, the plasma and dark mana sizzling and burning as they sought to destroy each other. Yet Seris’ stalwart shield easily repelled my telekinetic feathers.
I shifted in the air, then raised a hand to point at that dark barrier. Fire and sound mana built in an intricate dance as I called on my core. When I exhaled, a beam of pure white plasma blurred forward like the spear of an asura, seeking the Scythe.
Yet my brows rose in surprise as my white plasma struck Seris’ barrier, and her barrier held. She was forced backward in the air, her shield sapping the mana from my spell and weakening it even as I maintained a continuous stream of energy. White fire sputtered around her as her small cocoon of energy strained. I could hear the increasing timbre of her heartfire as she finally began to struggle.
I saw it through the translucent mana and interplay of our power. Seris’ mana blade flashed, and a beam of dark energy began to push back against mine in a rumbling crash of mana particles.
For a single moment, I could see the intricate mix of yin and yang as our inverse spells fought for purchase. I ground my teeth, feeling Seris’ mana beam bearing down on my spell.
Finally, I relented, allowing the Scythe’s dark attack to overcome mine. I rolled to the side as it blurred toward me like an unrelenting eclipse of darkness, hoping I wouldn’t get caught.
I was too slow. The dark beam seared right through my shrouded wings, the humming energy passing by me and churning the waters.
I stared down at the impact of Seris’ attack on the ocean far below, feeling slightly annoyed. Was that what it was like to fight me when every burning attack simply ignored your defenses?
I turned critical eyes to my drooping shrouded wings, a hole sheared straight through the right one. With an effort of will, the hole in the crystalline structure sealed over.
I turned wary eyes back to Seris as she hovered in the air, her silver hair slightly mussed and her eyes sparkling. There was a slight grin on her face as she stared down at me, still protected by her mana barrier. She mouthed the words down to me, her intent simmering.
Not hot enough.
I rolled my shoulders, aware of Aurora’s distance from me right now. It was harder to maintain control, harder to draw out the depths of my power in Soulplume without her. Yet this was a test of my abilities.
I slowly lowered down to the surface of the water, still staring up at Seris as she hovered over the Bay of Burim, protected in her little shield spell. From the brief exchange we’d had, I suspected she was a Shield by trade, her strengths in defending and waiting out the horde. I knew she wasn’t giving her all in this spar—after all, she had other runes I knew of. One that drained the mana of the target in a dark fog, and another that detonated the enemy from the inside in a burst of black light.
I narrowed my burning eyes—lacking pupils, now—as I stared up at the Scythe. She waited for me, of course. This little session was to help me grow and utilize everything in my arsenal—which meant I should use everything in my arsenal.
The water of the Bay of Burim was calm this time of night, even as the moon began to show her pale glow down on the water. A few ships still patrolled around the outskirts, huffing toxic smoke and chugging through the waters—but they were far enough away. When the soles of my feet touched the water, a simple ripple flowed outward.
I allowed my shrouded wings to dissipate, relinquishing my hold on my heartfire as I slid my foot back, settling my stance as I stared up at the Scythe.
You want heat, Seris? I thought, engaging my regalia. I’ll show you why it’s dangerous to dip your hand in fire.
A long tube of focused, white telekinesis appeared in front and above me, humming and churning with energy. I felt a bit of strain on my mind as I pushed myself, lining up my sights with the Scythe on high. The amount of mana contained within the accel path made the air warp strangely.
It was far easier than the first time I’d performed this technique, but despite my emblem’s upgrade to a regalia, it was still slightly taxing to maintain this pushing stream of power.
I stared up at Seris, maintaining the stream with an effort of will. When she saw what I was doing, her eyes widened slightly behind her shield.
Another shield grew, encompassing her like a blanket as she redoubled her defenses. I smiled through gritted teeth, then shook my head.
Nope. Not enough.
Seris’ lips pursed, her intent clear with annoyance. Then she layered another shield over herself.
I shook my head again.
Seris huffed in exasperation, then conjured a fourth barrier around herself. By now, I could tell it was growing slightly strenuous for her as she reinforced it all with her mana, flushing an absurd amount into her defenses.
I shrugged. It was worth a shot on her end, I supposed, but she wouldn’t be able to stop this attack no matter how many shields she layered in front of herself.
I conjured a shrouded saber in my hand, then flushed it with white plasma. The edge hummed provocatively as I stared up into the accel path in front of me.
Seris’ eyes darted to the blade in my hands, then widened even further as she finally recognized what I was about to do. I’d told her the story of how I’d slain Mardeth, after all. She knew this attack.
My Scythe finally allowed herself to slowly fall, phasing through her shields as she made the smart choice. I only had a bare moment to see her expression—equally interested and partially annoyed—as I ground my teeth.
Horizon’s Edge, I thought internally—then let myself be taken by the accelerating path of telekinetic force.
I’d never be able to teleport like Arthur would. I’d never get to truly bend the rules of this universe to cross space in a single step. My aetheric path was of vivum. Everything I did was focused on the body and the soul, not the space of dimensions or the twisting knot of time. Yet as the sound barrier broke like thundering glass around me and I felt the air burn for a split second, I wondered if this was what it was like, to teleport at a moment’s notice.
My body lurched for a split instant as I ascended at impossible speeds, my saber flashing. I could barely comprehend what happened as I swung my saber midway through my stairway to heaven, an arc of brilliant white that banished the night for an instant.
And then I was at the top, looking down. I exhaled slightly, noting the darkness of the sky around me as night finally fell. My limbs burned and my core ached from the single use of that move, but my heartfire worked to ease over my sizzling skin.
I slowly turned in the air, watching what was left of Seris’ shields with a critical eye as they fell apart, cut cleanly in two. The shields belatedly exploded into conflagrations of dark fire and seething black mist, only now realizing that they’d been cut.
I looked down at where Seris observed what had happened to her spells with a critical eye. Sensing my attention, she turned to look up at me.
“Hot enough for you?” I mouthed, raising a brow as I casually flourished my shrouded saber. The blade hummed, my lifeforce coursing faster due to the beating of my heart.
For once, I felt a bit of pride swell in my chest as Seris’ face flushed slightly, before she settled down to the water below.
Damn, that was satisfying. That was point two for me, then.
I let my Second Phase drift back into my core as I followed suit, letting the currents of ambient mana set me down on the tides as a mother set her child on the ground.
Aurora’s Puppet Form flittered overhead, her emotions still slightly muted.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, humming slightly as I approached. Seris managed to control the blood flowing to her cheeks, forcefully suppressing it—but the underlying currents of her intent told me another story. “So,” I said casually as I looked down at her, “I’m wondering what lessons the great Scythe of Sehz-Clar has to teach me after all I’ve shown her.”
That elicited another spike in her intent, and absolutely no change on her face. She really wasn’t accustomed to all this.
This was fun. I could sense Seris’ annoyance growing at the self-satisfied smirk on my face, which only served to heighten my amusement. She turned up her chin in a holier-than-thou way, narrowing her eyes.
“Your last attack—while an impressive use of your abilities—would be very impractical in fast-paced combat,” she said sharply, crossing her arms in front of herself. “I very graciously allowed you to try, but were we in true combat, I would have closed the distance or maneuvered out of the way of your attack well before you could pull it off.”
I felt my smirk shift slightly as her words washed over me. No more fun, now. Now was the time to focus on what we were supposed to be doing. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “And it’s difficult to adjust the accel path I put in place after I’ve started compressing it—especially for an attack like that. Horizon’s Edge is something of a last-ditch effort. A kill shot, if you get what I mean—but it leaves me open and predictable.”
Seris considered. “You can lay projectiles within these ‘accel paths’ of yours, yes?” she pushed. “That is the origin of one of your other attacks. Your ‘kill shots.’”
I nodded slowly, thinking of the Stake of the Morning. “But it runs into the same problem. It can be formed faster now–infinitely faster than when I was a silver core with an emblem. But by their nature, it’s easy for an enemy to predict the path of my attack and adjust accordingly. With the concentration of power required…”
Stake of the Morning worked well on large, slow targets–namely, the final boss of the Undead Zone and Mardeth’s static spell that I’d obliterated. But when people were moving fast enough and trying to close the distance, it wasn’t so easy to charge up an attack like that. If I wanted to use them, I needed to make an opening for them.
Seris tilted her head, her mind shifting to a more analytical point of view. I could sense the change in her intent as she narrowed her eyes. “Your regalia… It is dreadfully versatile. Almost an affinity on its own. Yet you do not engage it like you should. Though the speed of your organic casting is notable, it is still a step behind that of your spellform,” she said after a moment. “Is there not more you can do to integrate this ability into your others?”
I opened my mouth, raising a hand. Then I closed it, considering Seris’ idea as my eyes widened. “You know, I never thought about it that way,” I said, feeling foolish for not having seen it before. “I told you about the mental technique I use–template spells. As a white core mage, it isn’t as effective a middle ground as it used to be, but maybe… I can probably figure something out.”
After all, Seris had given me my last puzzle to test my senses and fine-tune my control. My regalia indeed wasn’t limited like other spellforms, and I needed to stop treating it as if it were.
I trailed off, thinking deeply. Seris hovered closer, nuzzling up to my side in that way of hers. She felt surprisingly warm as she nearly purred like a cat. On instinct, I wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders. “And how do you plan to make up for your lacking senses?” she asked with a contented sigh.
I stared up at the moon, feeling the paradoxical rising and settling of my blood. Seris had that strange, strange effect on me. Where she made me both so relaxed and so passionate all at once.
“I fought a creature a while back in the depths of Burim’s caverns that was able to track me using a sort of… sonic echolocation,” I said. “I’m going to develop a spell similar to that to keep active.”
“And your heartfire abilities,” Seris said next. “They can be used for more than healing.”
I looked down at Seris, feeling suddenly uneasy. “I use them mostly for healing,” I said slowly. “That’s the source of my insight.”
“I know, Toren,” Seris said with a suffering sigh. “You might have been raised a healer, but medicines can become poison if granted in doses too potent. The petals of the shear-thorn alea make a wonderful tea, but when concentrated, their juices create a toxin so great that it causes most mages to die in minutes. The root of the gingernesh has herbal remedies, but when mixed with a simple spark of fire mana, it causes horrid rashes and itching that finally result in permanent loss of sensation across an affected area.”
I swallowed uncomfortably.
The silver Scythe gave me a deeply serious look. “I can sense your reluctance, Toren. You know of what I imply, so I shall leave it there. But if you wish to grow stronger—for both of our sakes—do not disregard this path.”
A silence grew between us as I stared off at the sea. Seris, thankfully, gave me time to think as she rested her head against my shoulder.
I’d been brought up on the principles of healing deep within the sterile halls of the East Fiachra Healer’s Guild. The ideals and methods of saving lives were instilled deep into my soul there. And everything else stemmed from those desires and thoughts. That if someone was yet living, there was a chance to save them. That though one may wield a sword one day to kill a foe, the scalpel was never meant to kill. It was a blade wielded for your patients, not against them.
I ground my teeth, acknowledging the truth of Seris’ words as they contrasted darkly with my ideals.
Ideals that I can’t hold in war, I knew. Anything can be a weapon. Even a scalpel.
I’d never let myself think of what Seris said so openly. But she was right.
“There’s also the matter of the soul,” I said after a while, desperately forcing my mind away from this topic, “and what I can do with it.”
Seris looked up at me, deeply curious as I spoke. “You said something of this before,” she said slowly. “About how you can touch your soul. And recently, you were able to heal the elven princess, no? Without direct contact.”
I nodded slowly. The soul was a fickle thing, and I still had much to learn and understand within my Sea. “I can see the souls of those close to me,” I said, tracing the constellations high above. “Those that I am most connected to, and those who are most connected to me in turn. They burn in the abyss beyond my essence. Pushing. Pulling. Changing. And I can–”
I blinked as I felt Seris’ intent warp slightly, her hands clenching around my back. I looked down, feeling a spike of worry at what she felt.
The Scythe was staring up at me, and her curiosity drifted to deep, deep uncertainty. “You can see the souls of others, Toren?” she asked, her body shrinking slightly.
“I can,” I said softly, sensing why this must have been a sore spot for the Scythe.
“You can see mine.”
“I can.”
Seris turned away, biting her lip as her emotions became more shrouded. I felt a pang of guilt and sorrow for her at the depths of what she felt. I squeezed her shoulder, hoping to convey my silent support.
“Seris, do you want to know what I see?” I asked, taking her chin and turning it back to me. “I can tell you.”
The Scythe looked up at me consideringly, and I could see the desire there. She did want to know what I saw in her soul.
“No,” she lied. “I don’t want to know, Toren.”
Another mask taken away.
Seris rested her head on my shoulder, burying her fears there for a moment as she gathered herself. I let her do so as we sensed what had to come next.
“I am envious of you,” she finally said, her voice muffled by the cloth of my loose clothes. “You grow in strength and power so quickly. You’re already nearly a match for me in strength despite the short time you have spent in this world. So rarely do I find the opportunity to grow. To change and improve. But you…”
I rubbed circles on Seris’ back as she absorbed my warmth, quietly contemplative. “You have changed, Seris,” I said solemnly, taking her chin in my hand again. I tilted it upward, looking her in the eyes. “I’ve seen it. I’ve sensed it. Please don’t doubt that. It’s what makes you so very human.”
Seris smiled slightly. “You and your sharp tongue, Toren,” she chided, though her words were soft.
We shared a brief kiss there, hovering over the water. When we separated, I felt that infuriating pull even longer. The acknowledgment that I would soon have to leave.
I pulled something from my dimension ring, feeling its heft and weight. Inversion radiated subtle waves of power as it shone against the darkened night, that strange connection the horn shared with me becoming prevalent once more.
I held the horn out to Seris, looking into her eyes. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but this horn carries something of me inside of it,” I said. “I know it’s not much, but…”
Seris’ dark eyes danced as she gingerly took the burning white horn from my hand. Her hands immediately began to blacken as the texture of Inversion burned against her blood, but she didn’t show any sign of feeling it. I’d seen her eying the horn more than once with a characteristic intensity that told me she was itching to figure it out.
“So strange,” she murmured, looking at the patterns of orange and purple along the veins. “You said this horn once belonged to a basilisk, no? One named Brahmos.”
I nodded slowly, eliciting a contemplative hum from the Scythe. “Yet now, it rejects my blood,” she said with quiet wonder. “It is fascinating, Toren. Do you understand how it does this?”
I shook my head. “Truthfully? No. I told you of how I first turned the horn to… whatever it is now, but I still don’t entirely understand what it is, or how it works.”
Seris looked back up at me, the horn clenched tightly in her fingers even as her hand sizzled. “Then that will be my gift to you upon your return,” she said. “This is the puzzle I will work on. I admit that I was in the process of making more puzzles for you to solve while we were apart, but I think the pieces I’ve laid before you tonight will prove more challenging than anything else.”
I chortled lightly. Indeed, trying to centralize my fighting style and improve upon my abilities was an interesting puzzle—but that had been why I’d asked Seris for help in the first place. She had an uncanny ability to see everything from afar. Not just each individual piece, but how they all interacted and meshed together.
Already, I had several ideas for how I would push myself to develop my powers in this proceeding time. I just needed to assemble the puzzle she’d laid before me.
But as Aurora’s relic flitted around us, the understanding that I couldn’t keep Seris in my arms for much longer settled across my shoulders like a lead weight. “I’ll bring good news from the Hearth, Seris,” I promised. “I won’t let your hope go to waste.”
Seris sighed contentedly as we finally separated. “I know you will, Toren,” she said. “It will not be easy, all on my lonesome in the depths of Darv. But I will manage.”
My heart sank a bit at her playful words as I was reminded of Cylrit’s current position in Vildorial. Seris would be alone, but she could take care of herself. I suspected the war would be over by the time I returned, but I still worried for my Scythe.
My emotions settled as Seris drifted back toward the cavern of Burim, her passing like some sort of ethereal fae.
“Are you ready, my son?” Aurora’s thoughts eased against mine like the stroke of a painter’s brush. “Are you ready to meet our family?”
I turned slightly, orienting on the far east expanse of this continent. The Grand Mountains and hundreds of miles of the Beast Glades barred my way, but it wouldn’t stall me.
“I’m ready, Aurora.”