Toren Daen
Karsien settled into a stance, beckoning me forward. His confidence made me wary, but I pressed on anyway.
With mana-enhanced speed, I lashed a fist out toward him in a jab. Karsien slipped the punch with supernatural agility, but I had expected that. He crouched slightly, a hand raised to ward off my attack. Capitalizing on this opening, a flare of white began to shiver into existence near the striker’s abdomen, poised to deliver a similar gut blow as I had given to Naereni. He wouldn’t be able to block it with his arm, as that was busy turning my punch away.
I was ready to follow up after the eventual blow. After my telekinesis impacted him, I’d follow up with a kick to the abdomen again. Karsien didn’t have a mana shroud that I could see, meaning my attack would hit flesh. A dozen other possibilities flashed in my mind as a second passed by.
Instead of that happening, however, Karsien’s knee began to churn with water. He raised it high, smacking through my still-forming telekinetic push before it could fully coalesce. The mana shattered into a thousand shards, shocking me and causing me to pull back. The only other time my telekinesis had been shattered was by…
The Rat tilted his head, a mocking smirk on his face. “Well, Toren? I’m waiting for you to actually attack me,” he said.
Unnerved, I instead conjured a few small fireballs around me. They arced toward the waiting Karsien, who burst into a puff of mist as my attack hit.
Water vapor spread around the small arena, twisting and curling over the smooth stone. I shifted in place, wary of what was next. My senses were dampened in the midst of the mist, similar to what happened when the Unseen World eclipsed my senses.
I’ll have to get rid of the mists, then, I thought.
Deciding to take matters into my own hand, I focused for several precious seconds, then pushed outward with an unfocused wave of flame. It sizzled where it contacted the mist, dispersing it wherever the two intertwined.
I suddenly became aware of an attack hurtling toward me, whatever the mist had done to disturb my senses abruptly lifted. I spun, a coating of flame over my forearm as I swung my hand through whatever neared me.
My hand seared straight through Karsien, neatly cutting through his torso. I felt a momentary panic before I registered the lack of sensation. Where my hand cut through, a curtain of mist billowed out.
A clone?! There was no resistance as my attack whiffed through, only light dampness on my skin and a cool, tingling sensation where the mist touched my skin. The illusory clone of Karsien exploded in water vapor after it was bisected, the same sense-dampening effect multiplied tenfold when it coated me so close.
I pushed out with telekinesis, trying to move across the ground. I knew instinctively that another attack was coming, but my telekinetic push never connected with the ground. Instead, a boot coalesced out of the gloom and slammed into the white mana, breaking it once more.
But that alerted me to the true body’s position. Karsien could create clones of mist, but they had no physical presence. I threw a grenade of sound toward the location I had seen the boot but was surprised when the figure blurred.
I detonated my sound grenade early, realizing I didn’t have much time. Mist obscured much of my vision, and I didn’t have the focus to release another wave of flame around me. That wasn’t one of my template spells, after all.
My grenade blew a neat gap into the mist, but it slowly sifted back in. But my attack had failed anyway. A bare outline of a man neatly pirouetted around the explosion, closing the distance with unnatural speed and grace. I backpedaled as best I could, trying to escape. I hurled a few fireballs his way, but my aim was off. The mist obscured my senses too much, and my opponent was a bare outline in the room.
My back hit something hard. I felt stone against my shoulder blades, shocking me. I hadn’t been able to sense my surroundings with my usual confidence, and I had backed into one of the support pillars for the Cistern.
The mist dispersed abruptly, vanishing into the nonexistent wind. Karsien stood on the opposite edge of the ring, far away from where I had thought he was.
I realized with a start that what I had been attacking all along in the mist must have been one of those godforsaken clones. The man had been far from me all along.
I remembered how the boot had broken my telekinesis spell. Did that mean his clones could manifest physical force, or did the interaction of our spells merely cancel each other out? Or did the man dart in to break my spell and leave a clone in his place?
I settled back into my stance, ready to continue the match. Karsien wagged his finger though. “Na, ah, ah!” He said, pointing to the ground. I followed his gesture, realizing with disappointment I was outside of the delineated circle.
I lost the spar by ring out.
I sighed. “You led me around like a fish on a hook,” I said, a bit irritated. Couldn’t the man actually face me? Naereni lounged nearby, an expression of keen interest on her face.
“That I did, Toren. But do you understand why?”
“Your mist obscures your presence, and I couldn’t distinguish your clones from your true self. You baited me to believe you were in one place when you were truly in another.”
“That’s the how, not the why. Why did I avoid fighting you? Why are you outside the ring and not dealing with the concussion I could have given you instead?” he said, tapping a finger against his forehead.
I thought for a moment. Why did the man avoid directly trading blows with me? “I don’t know,” I said, confused.
“We’re thieves,” the man said at last. “Our goal is to grab our target and leave. We don’t want to stay and fight. Fighting means that disgruntled authorities have time to catch us, which would mean that the poor coins we liberate will never reach freedom. We want to lead people around on a merry chase.” He strode over to me. “It’s a performance as any other, Toren.”
He walked past me, headed toward another room I hadn’t explored yet. “Also, when you use your telekinesis rune, your eyes track to where you plan to put the effect. It’s easy to exploit.”
I remembered how the man had broken through each and every one of my attempts to use telekinesis throughout the fight. Had I been that predictable? “Thanks,” I said, running over the spar. I had much to learn.
Naereni approached me after. “You did well against our good old leader,” she said conversationally.
“He played me like a puppet on a string,” I said, shaking my head. “And used it to make a point at the same time.”
If he actually wanted to hurt me, I was pretty sure he could’ve taken me out early with ease. I could barely sense the man within the mists. Karsien held full control of the battlefield, not unlike how he controlled our first meeting.
“Usually he just thrashes us early on,” Naereni said. “But considering most of us only have a few runes, there isn’t much to draw out.” She looked at me appraisingly. “How many runes do you actually have? I noticed at least five different spells there.”
My shoulders tensed. I only had one rune, but it wasn’t like I could say that. “I’d rather not say,” I said instead.
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Naereni shrugged. “It’s good to keep that secret anyway,” she said. “A surprising number of mages openly display their runes, but we of the Rats don’t. That would make it too easy to identify us, maybe even more so than showing our faces. But you certainly have more than most of us, save maybe Karsien himself.” She smiled. “Showing runes is stupid anyways. It's like showing off your wealth: it makes you an easy target.”
The moment was interrupted by a young man entering from where Karsien had exited. He plodded forward, seemingly unaware of the two of us. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place from where. His clothes were slightly disheveled but were more casual attire than anybody else here.
Naereni immediately brightened. “Wade!” she called, waving a hand. “Come here! You’ve gotta meet our new member!”
Wade? I thought, the name clicking into place. Sure enough, the man who meandered toward us was the scruffy-haired library receptionist I met a few days ago.
“Wade?” I said, utterly shocked. “From the library?”
He raised a brow. “I told you my night job took up a lot of my time,” the young man said, adjusting his glasses. “I just didn’t tell you what it was. Good to see you again, Toren.”
I blinked, then pieces began to click into place all over. “That’s how you knew who I was,” I said, pointing at the man. “I went to the library to look up information on acidbeam hornets the day after you,” I said, pointing at Naereni, “Gave me info that Blood Joan would attack their nest! It must’ve been blatantly obvious,” I realized, internally berating myself for leaving such a simple trail.
The bookworm laughed lightly. “And the day before, you were searching for knowledge of the local Bloods, all in your civilian identity. It didn’t take long for us to put two and two together,” he said, sparing a glance at Naereni. “And not much gets by my eyes, either,” he said with a knowing look.
A rat bounded over the tiles toward us, hopped up Wade’s leg, then climbed to his shoulder. It sat there, perfectly content, as if it wasn’t a wild animal. Wade put his hands in his pockets, clearly savoring my confusion. “While Karsien is the Rat, I’d argue I embody the title more,” he said with a hint of pride. The critter on his shoulder chittered.
“Wade manages our information network,” Naereni said happily, clapping him on the shoulder. Wade’s eyes darted to her hand, a note of something in his eyes. “He’s got rats all over the city reporting to him. You’d be amazed what the people will talk about in the open.”
Wade coughed into a fist, some of his earlier confidence wilting under the praise. “I’ve got a crest that allows me to communicate intent to rats. I send them out, and whenever they overhear something that they think I’d find interesting, they report back. It’s got a limited range, though.” The rat on his shoulder squeaked in… agreement? What?
“Our resident rat-whisperer,” Naereni said, removing her hand from Wade’s shoulder. The young man looked visibly disappointed. “We wouldn’t be able to pull off half the heists we do without his help,” she said.
Wade smiled lightly. “I had Karsien’s letter delivered to you earlier,” he said. “Our leader called me in on my off-hours, though, so I’m going to go get reparations for that tonight.”
Something Wade said startled Naereni. “Oh, yeah!” she said. “I need to go. Karsien promised he’d get me a new cloak earlier, and if I’m not quick he’ll weasel out of it,” she finished, turning to go. “See the both of you later!” she called back, moving toward where Wade had entered. The young sentry watched her go.
I gave Wade a knowing look. He frowned in confusion.
“So, you and Naereni?” I said, feigning nonchalance. The way he looked at her seemed painfully apparent to me.
Wade sighed. “Shut it, Toren,” he said, though there was something wistful in his tone.
“You never told me what kind of books you read when we talked at the library,” I continued on, undeterred. I looked at Wade, then widened my eyes comically. “Is it poetry? If you want to woo a lady, that would be the best way. Professing your love in prose would be awfully romantic, wouldn’t it?”
The rat on Wade’s shoulder jumped at me, sailing through the air and latching onto my face. It dropped a second later, landing easily and scurrying off into the darkness with a chitter. Unfortunately, the undignified yelp I emitted as it hit me offset my banter.
“You’re going to find rat droppings in your pillow,” Wade said, narrowing his eyes behind his glasses. “I promise you that.”
Recovering from the rodent’s assault, I snickered in good humor. “That’s not a no,” I said, tugging the lion’s tail. I reconsidered my next words though, because I didn’t know what else I’d find in my pillowcase if I kept on. “I wouldn’t have expected you to work for these ‘wealth redistributors,’” I said, my amusement at the continued phrase surfacing in my tone. “You seemed more like a quiet type when I met you at the library. This ‘night job’ has got to be action-packed, though.”
Wade gestured for me to follow him, and I set trailed by his side as he moved toward one part of the Cistern. “We’re thieves, plain and simple,” Wade said. “The others like to dress it up, but that’s what they are. But what sets us apart from common pickpockets is what we do with the money we steal,” he said. Wade led me to the map that was pinned to one of the walls. It was a detailed depiction of important Fiachran infrastructure.
There were color-coded pins all over the map. Wade plucked a purple pin from its place, showing it to me. “Each purple pin marks one of the fences we sell our stolen goods to,” he said. “And the majority of the money–everything that isn’t used on upkeep for our little gang–is used to buy food, clothes, and more for the people in East Fiachra.”
My vision narrowed to that purple pin, considering. So they were Robin Hood-esque thieves? That was certainly more noble than a self-interested gang. “So you’re altruistic?” I asked. “You worry for the people of the slums?”
“It is nice to help people,” Wade affirmed. “But I’ve got my own reasons, too. We all do. Naereni wants to give blithe addicts a way out. Hofal wants us to survive.” He paused. “I’m actually not sure what Karsien wants. To show off, maybe?”
I wasn’t sure if I trusted pure altruism, anyway. I waited for a moment, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, I asked another question. “Considering Blood Joan has a kill order out on me, I’m not sure I’ll be able to return the books I borrowed from the library,” I said a bit sardonically. It was hard not to feel bitter about that. “Are you gonna turn me over to them if I don’t return the books on time?” I asked, trying to lighten my mood.
“Not after only two weeks, no,” he replied ominously. “But once a month passes, drastic measures will need to be taken. After all, keeping a book from new readers is a capital crime.” He considered for a moment. “All jokes aside, I can return them for you.”
I snorted, but withdrew the books from my dimension ring nonetheless. I handed them to Wade, who looked them over for a minute. “It might not be much solace, but from what little my network gathered so far, I doubt the Joans will be able to keep the pressure on these other families to maintain this search for you. After a couple of weeks, you’ll probably be in the clear, at least from the city at large.”
“Why don’t the Joans just try and report me to the Supervisory Office?” I asked, a bit confused. If the Joans got a warrant out for my arrest, no matter how long I waited in a forest, I’d be a wanted man in the city. I thought about the actions the Granbehls would take against Arthur in response to his involvement in Ezra and Kalon’s deaths, seeing how much more efficient that was. “I don’t think I’d be able to actually just wait out their searches as I have before. The Law would be on their side.”
“Blood Joan isn’t the most… politically adept of Bloods in Fiachra,” Wade replied. “Their go-to method for most things is brute force, not cunning. They’ve got a lot of debts piling up now because they don’t have that finesse. I know some of the details, but the Joans took a huge hit when you disrupted their acidbeam paper retrieval.”
I groaned, massaging the bridge of my nose with a hand. “Why does everyone think I deliberately sabotaged that mission? I did everything I could to avoid that!”
“Something went wrong and the rich and powerful need somebody to blame, Toren. You were kinda in the perfect spot for that,” Wade pointed out.
“So the one time they make a politically adept move, I’m the target. Of course.”
“It was the exact opposite of politically adept,” the young librarian countered, sitting down in a plush chair that bordered the map. “There’s a dozen accounts contradicting the Joans’ from those you helped out. They just came in today, but they’re too loud to silence. Unfortunately for the Joans, the only alternative is admitting they hired a bunch of unadorned and miscalculated horribly. Everyone worth their salt will know that the Joans are lying about your guilt. And that kind of shame? They’ll be a laughingstock among the more powerful families.”
I peered at Wade over my hand. I was gaining a measure of him through this conversation. He had a greater understanding of Fiachra’s politics than I did, which made sense. I wondered how much sway he had in those politics. I opened my mouth, but my ears picked up something coming toward us.
I peered toward a darker part of the Cistern, cocking my head as the pitter-patter came closer. Soon enough, a rat bounded out of the darkness. A small slip of paper was gripped tightly in its teeth.
The rat hopped over toward Wade, dodging past my legs and hopping up his leg and onto his shoulder. Wade retrieved the paper from its mouth, absentmindedly scratching the little critter as he read over the message. Once he was done, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket. He flicked it on, then let the paper burn under the small flame.
“What was that about?” I asked, curious.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied, pocketing the lighter. The rat bounded off into the darkness. “Though I don’t think you’ve met our last member,” he said, standing from the seat. “She’s been looking forward to meeting you. Also, she’s the one who assured us of your character.”