Toren Daen

The page of my book turned as I finished reading it. It was outlined in a dull white, seeming to keep it aloft as I scanned the paper.

I was still stuck in bed, even after a few days awake. My body was recovering at an increased pace, and I was currently being evaluated to see if I would need to stay any longer.

A nurse was currently poking at my ribs with a slightly baffled expression. Considering they’d been shattered over a week ago, it made sense she’d be a little unnerved by the fact that my bones had reknit themselves.

I felt a gentle prod over my mental bond with Lady Dawn–Aurora–as another book floated nearby. With a nudge of my emblem, the page turned on that book as well, allowing the invisible asura to keep reading.

“Considering how well you’ve healed, Lord Daen,” the nurse said respectfully, “You’ll be free to go any time,” she finished.

I nodded, smiling in thanks. “Thanks for your help these past few days,” I said honestly. This woman had seen to my care after Trelza stopped doing it himself.

The nurse nodded. I didn’t recognize her from when I’d worked here as a healer’s assistant. A few days ago, I’d asked the woman when she’d started. Apparently, she transferred here barely after my own injury.

“It was my pleasure to help you recover, even if it seems you have it well in hand,” she said. The grey-haired woman then frowned. “Pardon me for asking, but… is it a rune that makes your healing faster?”

I had made an effort to cover my runes from even the people who attended me. I didn’t know who else had seen my singular emblem, but considering I hadn’t been hauled off to the Sovereigns, I doubted it had caused a fuss.

“It might be,” I said with a bit of a conspiratorial smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep guessing.”

The woman shrugged, unphased by my response. After a couple more questions regarding my health, she excused herself from my stark-white room.

“Your control of your spellform has improved rapidly,” Lady Dawn said as the woman left the room. The Unseen World washed over my vision, dampening the colors in the room. Since my capture by Lawrent Joan, the phoenix had taken to speaking over our bond as well as out loud.

She gave me another subtle prod over our telepathic tether. The sensation was odd: it felt like a string vibrating across my mind. Noting the signal, I used my emblem to turn the page of her book again. The phoenix appeared to be sitting in a nearby chair, the book hovering in front of her eyes.

I’ve had nothing to do for the past few days but read and test my magic, I replied over our bond. The asura encouraged me to refine my ability to communicate mentally, even though my first instinct was to respond out loud. If I didn’t improve at least a little bit, there would be no point.

The changes to my telekinesis as it upgraded from a crest to an emblem were manyfold. I could exert many more pushes and pulls at once, the strain on my mind minimal. No longer was I limited to just three.

Furthermore, the force I could exert over a distance increased dramatically. Where before my ability to affect objects decreased exponentially as the distance from my body increased, now that force decreased linearly. It was also far less taxing to maintain a telekinetic effect for a while, though that could still change depending on what I was trying to affect.

However, there were still limitations. If I wished to control something, it couldn’t be too heavy. The heavier an object was, the greater the drain on my mana and mind it would be.

I turned to another page with my mind. I’d been holding up both Lady Dawn’s and my own book for an hour or so now. Considering I barely moved them from a stationary position and each book was relatively light, the mana drain was barely worth noticing.

“Nonetheless, it is worth acknowledging,” Lady Dawn said. I felt a bit of mild annoyance from her whenever I thought of her as Lady Dawn instead of Aurora, but I wasn’t comfortable calling her by that name yet.

I read the last couple of words of my book, Treatise on the Four Elements of Mana in Relation to their Natural Counterparts.

Well, that’s one mystery solved, I thought to myself. Which came first, the element or the mana affinity? The answer, at least according to this book, is that there isn’t one.

Though I was pretty sure it was the element. After all, fire, earth, wind, and water existed in my previous world where there was no such thing as mana.

Take that, mana scholars, I thought. I just invalidated your life’s work through the power of an outside, unverifiable perspective.

I floated the book over to my table, then felt tempted to grab my violin again. I’d gotten back into a rhythm over the last few days as I played music once more, feeling the fulfilling peace of music again.

I didn’t think I would ever be able to pick up an instrument again, but something changed as I remembered Toren’s last moments. Make the world a better place.

And music made things easier, didn’t it? Made it possible to push through hell?

I pulled myself up from the bed, testing my weight on my legs. I was getting sick of wearing this hospital gown, but I respected the traditions of the Healer’s Guild. I stretched my arms and legs, working out my aches.

I picked up a nearby dimension ring, put it on, and shuffled through its contents. I retrieved a pair of dark slacks and a high-collared bright tunic, delivered to me not long ago.

I’d lost my dimension ring in the wreckage of the Joan estate, but Hofal had passed by a couple of days ago to see how I was recovering. The man had slipped a dimension ring to me with storage a bit larger than my last one, along with a few supplies.

I changed quickly, happy to be out of the gown. Thankfully, everything I owned fit inside the ring.

Granted, that wasn’t much. Just the books I’d borrowed and my violin.

“You will have to be cautious in displaying your abilities openly,” Lady Dawn said suddenly. My shirt was off, and my chain tattoo was on full display. The phoenix shade was staring at it intently.

I turned to her slightly, opening my mouth to speak. At her unamused expression, I sheepishly closed it, focusing on our telepathic link instead. I haven’t been the best about hiding my power, but I don’t think anybody’s guessed I have an asura living in my core, I replied.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The phoenix cocked her head, standing from her chair. “I have been constantly suppressing the asuran mark to your mana signature ever since we bonded,” the phoenix said. “But when you used the first phase of your Beast Will, my ability to mask what you truly wield… faltered.”

My eyes widened as I realized the implications. Arthur covered the mark on his arm that hinted at Sylvie’s bond with a dragon feather, masking its signature to the outside world. Apparently, Lady Dawn had been actively doing that for me.

I peeked at the red chain tattoo on my left arm that wrapped the limb like a brand. I didn’t think there was a dragon feather large enough to cover all of that.

“Though I do not expect it to happen with regular mana usage, it will become more difficult to suppress as you grow in power. I suggest we find a way to mask it entirely.”

I’ll see what I can find, I replied, already trying to think if I knew of any solutions. But it wasn’t an immediate problem as long as I didn’t use my Beast Will.

Once I cinched my boots, I stood up and looked at the table. On it was the signet ring of Named Blood Daen, the etched symbol of a dagger bleeding rivers of runes intimately familiar. I picked it up, feeling its weight. It was made of solid metal and shone with a golden color, but I was sure it wasn’t actually forged of gold.

It was made of something far more precious. I held it up, thinking about how long this symbol had hidden beneath my shirt, tucked safely against my breast.

I slipped it onto my right hand, the band fitting me perfectly. Named Blood Daen no longer had a reason to hide.

—

I exited the East Fiachra Healer’s Guild several minutes later, discharged and with a few instructions on how to care for whatever wounds might relapse. I still ached all over and I had a new scar on my shoulder to show off, but otherwise, I was mostly healed.

I took in the fresh air outside, savoring the kiss of winter. It was early December now, and the snow was heavy on the ground. I spied a few men working to clear it manually from the streets.

I pulled on mana from my core, the act of distributing mana across my body occurring far faster now that my core was a dark yellow. The suffusion helped ward off the chill in the air, but the light cloak I wore did the rest. My breath misted in the air as I stepped out with trepidation.

I began my walk with slow steps, picking up speed as I went. I didn’t need to fear showing my face anymore. I didn’t need to fear being a Daen.

I followed familiar streets through East Fiachra as I slowly meandered toward my destination. I was taking the long way, I knew. Was it because I was afraid of the destination? Or because I simply enjoyed being out?

I watched a boat as it drifted down one of East Fiachra’s few canals, its drab colors matching the atmosphere about. The ferryman kept on no matter the day, no matter the occurrence.

I finally reached the gates of my destination. They were rundown, as was much of the surrounding area. Rust coated the entrance sign, which caused my heart to lurch. A thin wire fence ran far in either direction, cordoning off a specific section of this place.

And so here we are, I said, staring at the entrance sign as if it were the hand of death. The end of the road.

I stared at those words for far too long, shifting in place. The letters of Alacrya were so close to those of my past life to be unnerving.

But I couldn’t stall forever. I gathered my wits, stuffing my reservations into a little box. I pushed open the doors, entering the East Fiachra Cemetery with muffled steps. A layer of white snow covered everything in a pearlescent sheen, small cops of trees and overgrown patches of plantlife slowly taking this land back to nature.

Gravestones dotted the hills around, most with names impossible to read from weathering over countless years. The simple landscape almost felt alien to me: I was beginning to expect every hill to be run through with a tunnel. But this place was overgrown from lack of care.

I slowly plodded along the thin dirt path, only visible because of a slight indent in the snow. My boots compressed the snow with each step, the sounds following me as I moved.

I looked to the side every now and then as I hiked, looking at the gravestones that could be deciphered.

John Londsen. Garlan Endor. May Primsight.

A few graves had flowers by them, with a clear memory and affection dedicated to the slabs of stone. But there were countless more that were abandoned, worn, and forgotten by all that lived.

Do these people live again somewhere? I wondered to myself. Reincarnated and given a second chance? Of all these forgotten people, I am the one who gets to walk again. Surely I am not alone in that.

Lady Dawn must have heard my silent introspection, but she stayed thankfully silent. Toren would have fallen into obscurity if he had stayed dead in that forest. Nobody would lay roses at his grave if there was ever a stone carved for him. He would have become less than a footnote in history. What set me apart from John Londsen? Or Garlan Endor? Or May Primsight?

I continued for a while, finally cutting off as I neared a copse of trees. The path diverged, leading me to the newer stones. These had polish and respect still dedicated to them. I saw flags here and there, one I recognized from the history books on the wars between Vechor and Sehz-Clar. Veterans, the soldiers buried with the common man.

I slowed to a stop as I reached the final gravestone. It was small and simple, only a bare slab of grey rock.

Except for the words carved on the face.

Norgan Daen

December 10th, 1720 - October 4th, 1736

I stared down at my brother’s grave, trying to put together some sort of message to him. What did I say to him? Now that I was here, all my carefully planned words seemed to slip from my mind, vanishing into the cold winter air.

He would’ve turned sixteen in a few days if he was still alive.

“Hey, Norgan,” I said with some difficulty. “I, uh… I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to you. I was a bit preoccupied.” I rolled my next words around in my mind for a minute. “I remember you telling me ages ago that you’d like your body to be left in the Relictombs if you died there, even if most Sehz-Clarians look down on that kind of thing. I’m sorry that you didn’t get that. But the woman who killed you? She’s dead. I slit her throat myself.”

Killing Kaelan Joan had been cathartic. It proved to me I had power; that I wasn’t some helpless fool dragged around by the whims of fate. I could fight back against those who hurt me.

But in the end, it didn’t change anything. My brother was still dead. I was still wanted by an entire Blood, a kill order sent out by those at the top.

It was truly ironic that the only way for me to be truly safe was to end every last one of the Joans, just as they had the Daens so long ago. When I thought of it that way, it felt a lot less like justice, no matter the truth. I was reduced to a murderer to spare my own life.

“That’s… that’s a pretty shitty birthday present,” I mused, staring off into the clouded sky. “I remember you wanted to fight with gauntlets. There was something about a brawl that you excelled in. A thrill I never quite got.”

I shuffled, fighting back choked emotion. “In my previous world, they had a whole bunch of stories about this kind of thing. Reincarnated into a whole, new world. Given a second chance to do right by yourself. But now that I’m here, living it, I can’t imagine enjoying anything like that again.”

I clenched my fist, inspecting the snow beneath me. It was so pure and white, untouched by the blackness of the earth. Eventually, however, it would melt.

“Truth is, I’m not sure if you would call me your brother as I am right now. I, uh… I’m not entirely sure how much of me is Toren, and how much of me is me. Would you actually see your brother if you looked at me right now? Or some impostor that ate his soul?”

I would never be able to answer that question. But that didn’t stop it from gnawing at me. Toren had willingly given his whole being to me, body and soul, as he lay dying. And I thought the boy buried at my feet was my brother. I could see him as nothing but. But would the feeling have been mutual?

I paused, feeling my eyes growing a bit wet. I closed them, releasing a shuddering breath. “I’ve got another goal now,” I said, pushing away unanswerable questions. “And I need to grow strong for that. Norgan, I’m… I’m going to be an ascender. Fulfill our dream. Maybe bring accolades and glory to Named Blood Daen along the way.”

It didn’t have the same charm as going in together. We were going to be a dynamic duo, an unstoppable force. Nobody would stand in the way of the Brothers Daen.

“I’ll bring back stories, at least,” I said. “I’ll tell you all about the wonders I see. The adventures I’ll have. It won’t be the same as seeing it yourself, I know. But.. but even more than that?” I opened my eyes, staring at the bold letters declaring my brother’s name. “I want to make this world a bit better. I’ve seen some things since you left, Norgan. And I think I can, maybe. I’ll be somebody you could be proud of,” I said, making a silent vow to the stone. “And I hope that one day, you’ll get your own second life.”

I wiped at my face, then turned away from the stone. The sun was setting, and it was time to leave.