Toren Daen

All things considered, it was quite easy to snap the spell embedded in the weapons. With the guidance of an asura and severe focus, I could locate the effect of mana contained within the steel, then carefully sever and squash it with my own focused power.

If I didn’t have an asura slowly prodding at my mana control and funneling me toward what I wanted to discover, I doubted I would have found the spell any time soon. It was layered deep, and entrenched with obfuscation methods that boggled the mind. But once I did latch onto it, there was no contest removing it.

It had to do with how willpower was leveraged over mana. I probably would not have been able to break the artificer’s connection over a spell they were actively controlling so easily, but that was not the case here. The embedded spell was latent and passive, meant to send a signal out intermittently in small pulses that the other end could track.

After fixing that problem, I insisted on looking at each of the Rat’s gifts, using the excuse that I was interested in them as a cover for scanning them for similar spells. I avoided the skaunter, however. Though I outright told Karsien what I’d found, I didn’t want to spread a panic through the Rats unduly.

It turned out my ‘gift’ was the only one with active spells imbued into the structure, which brought up more questions. Karsien was onto something when he implied I was under special attention from this Renea Shorn.

But the real question was if there was anything I could do about it.

I had my new weapons secured tightly on either side of my waist, their glimmering silver handles and dark leather grips a comforting place to rest my hand.

I was standing on a rooftop just outside the Cistern’s entrance, surveying all I could see. Snow was still on the ground, and a depressing number of people were shivering on the streets, covered in ratty blankets or simply turning blue.

Part of me wanted to stop what I was doing, go down, and light fires for each of them. I had the power to do it, mana reacting to my will. I could make these people warm.

But all the hours of the day weren’t enough for me to reach each and every person here. There were thousands in the streets across the city. My mana core would dry out far before I helped everybody who needed me.

I sighed as I dismissed those thoughts, turning west. I willed my mana shroud around me, the light white sheen of energy coating me like a barrier. Then, remembering how my emblem reacted to my natural barrier before, I tried to grab hold of myself with my telekinetic control.

The spellform on my lower back grew warm, then I felt the rune activate. The white mana of my telekinesis meshed with my mana shroud, mixing and condensing in a strange new barrier.

I raised my arm in front of my hand, inspecting the interplay of energy. My telekinesis rune operated on pure mana structured with gravity and sound attributes to create truly unique effects. But when it blended with my mana shroud, there was an unexpected synergy.

It didn’t look any different from my normal barrier, but I remembered the differences starkly from my fight against Lawrent and Dornar Joan. Raising a fist, I swung it at a nearby metal pole. When my knuckles impacted the steel, ripples of white crystalline lattices spread out from my fist at the epicenter over my shroud, before gradually fading away.

I inspected the effects of my attack. The steel had been solidly dented with minimal force, something that wouldn’t have been possible before. It seemed my telekinetic shroud layered extra strength over my blows, amplifying my attacks somehow.

Suddenly remembering another effect of this shroud, I reached out with my emblem, pressing heavily against the ground. Instead of being lifted up slightly as I would’ve expected from the pushback, the force broke against my telekinetic shroud, dispersing with a bit of crystal shine.

I furrowed my brows. I’d learned to use the pushback of my rune very effectively. It would be a shame if this new barrier negated that. Trying again with a push, I tried to convey that I wanted the force to travel through my shroud, and sure enough, I felt my center of mass shift as I pushed against the rooftop.

I smirked slightly. That was cool. A final test, then.

I drew my new dagger, the wavy red lines in its steel reflecting the low sun. It was deathly sharp, which I intended to test. I laid the single edge against my palm, pressing lightly. My telekinetic barrier flared, the white crystal lattice becoming more visible as the pressure increased. Eventually, the force of my pressure began to crack the barrier, but it was far and beyond stronger than my normal mana shroud.

Satisfied with my little test, I sheathed the dagger, then focused mana into the telekinetic shroud, trying to mend the small cracks.

And then I found the downside. For those small cracks, it took nearly ten seconds for them to mend. And in a fast-paced battle, a single second could spell your death.

It’s incredibly tough, amplifies my strength, and can negate the pushback from my telekinesis. But to balance it out, it takes painfully long to repair, I thought. A mana barrier could be reformed in a split second if you were skilled.

I sighed, giving East Fiachra one last look. It was too soon to see any real differences because of my actions, but I felt a painful desire to see that change. I wasn’t a character of some narrative. My actions had consequences. I could change this place.

—

A few minutes later, I stood in front of an unfamiliar home in West Fiachra.

I knocked on the door, feeling a bit foolish as I waited on the front steps. This was the address Wade had given me after a bit of prodding, and I hoped it was the right one.

The door opened to reveal a familiar old man, his hair greying in patches. Aban blinked as he looked at me, recognition immediately on his face. Then he smiled slightly.

“It’s good to see you well, Dusk,” he said, opening the door. “Do you want to come in? I wasn’t expecting guests, so you’ll have to excuse the poor state of my home.”

“No worries,” I said, hesitantly accepting his invitation. “I won’t stay long. I wanted to drop by today to thank you.”

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Aban led me toward a sitting room. I eased myself into a plush seat, Aban settling across from me. The room was well-worn, and I noticed an open book on the nearby table. It seemed I had interrupted Aban as he read.

“How are you doing?” I asked. “Is your new job treating you well?”

Aban raised a brow. “I’m surprised you’re out the Healer so quick, Dusk. I was wondering if you were going to fight again, considering what you did to your hands,” he said, looking pointedly at my arms. They were covered, as usual, and I was wearing fingerless gloves. If I looked close enough, I could see tiny lightning scars across my fingers, but they were practically invisible from a distance.

“I’m difficult to kill,” I said, smirking at this inside joke of mine.

“But not invincible, clearly,” Aban countered, looking at me seriously. “Though to answer your earlier question, Bloodstone Elixirs is treating me well. I’ve been contracted similarly to how I was with the Joans, tasked with providing a helping hand in Clarwood Forest expeditions.” The older man regarded me strangely. “Though I’m surprised you learned that so fast.”

I took a deep breath. “I heard that Bloodstone Elixirs is taking credit for the destruction of Blood Joan,” I said. “In part by hiring all the mages who helped me escape.” I looked at the man seriously. The lines on his face seemed deep, accentuating his age and making him seem older than he really was. “I’ve got to ask: are you okay? Did they threaten you?”

Aban regarded me for a second, then shook his head. “No, they simply laid the facts out to me honestly. An unblooded mage attacking a noble family isn’t something that can so easily be ignored. If I hadn’t been hired on, I’d have been hit from all sides by hostile families.”

I frowned, feeling worried. “That sounds an awful lot like extortion.”

Aban sighed. “Maybe it is. But they weren’t wrong. Vaelum’s got a good job as a guard for one of their Fiachran executives. It pays far more than his last contract, too. Unden is still with me, but the benefits far outweigh the downsides.”

“How are the rest of them doing, by the way?” I asked. “Vaelum isn’t still fighting off that poison, is he?”

Aban chuckled. “No, my godson is faring just fine. He is truly grateful for your help with that, by the way, as am I. Most would’ve just left him to die.”

I exhaled a bit of irritation at the fact that most people would leave a man to die like that. “Tell him I’m glad he’s doing well. But that doesn’t change this situation, where all of you are shoehorned under this company’s power.”

Aban shrugged, as if to say ‘What can you do?’ “You might have changed things, Dusk, but some things never will. Bloodstone Elixirs aren’t the only party taking advantage of the Joans’ explosive fall. Half of their rivals are ripping apart their assets as they automatically default on their debts. Two days after their estate was burned to the ground, there was nothing left to their name. But you grow used to these kinds of things after a while.”

He sounded cynical again. “I don’t know what to think about this company,” I said, voicing my thoughts. “They took all of you in, supposedly giving really good deals on employment. But they’re also exploiting all we did.”

“Does it anger you that Bloodstone is taking the credit for the Joans’ fall?” Aban queried, leaning forward a bit.

I considered the question for a moment. “Not really. As far as I can tell, the Rats’ original goal was completed, and their message was sent loud and clear. And now, from what I’ve heard, people think the Rats worked for Bloodstone, stifling any retaliation against the crew.” I thought about my battle with Kaelan Joan. The pure fury that thrummed through my veins, driving me on through strike after strike. “And my vengeance was… personal. I wasn’t trying to make a statement, just settle a debt. I think I’m more bothered by the power they have over all of you now.”

The room was quiet for a minute as we settled into a comfortable silence. Eventually, though, I broke that reverie. “I need to know, Aban. Why did you help me? You got lucky in avoiding the fallout with Bloodstone. But the consequences could’ve been dire.”

My question seemed to suck something from Aban’s body. He deflated visibly, shrinking into his chair. “Things have been bad for a long, long time, Dusk,” Aban replied in a murmur that made his voice scratchy. “Because of people like the Joans, exploiting others and lording over everybody they can. When I was young, I wanted to change it. Make it better. But so many years went by without change, no matter what I did. But I was a coward, afraid to take a truly big step.“

The old man leaned back in his seat, inspecting the ceiling. The house creaked slightly as it settled, made clearly audible by my enhanced hearing. “And then you intervened to save that convoy. And at the end, you asked me what I knew. What I could provide. I thought, ‘Why not?’ The worst that happens is that you’d die. Another corpse in the long line of bodies.”

I remembered my first meeting with the mage as he slumped against a tree, both of us utterly exhausted. He seemed earnest, then, giving me the information I wanted. I had expected the need to threaten him more, to be honest.

“But when I went back to my employers, I saw things change. I watched the Joans slowly fall apart from both inside and out, seemingly all because of one man. It was a novel experience. Vindicating.” Aban began tapping his hand on the armrest. “But then I heard Dornar was planning to blow you to kingdom come. And if he could, capture you alive. And I asked myself, ‘Do you want to stay a coward?’”

The man looked me in the eyes, and I felt the weight of his decision. He didn’t know if he would’ve survived trying to save me. It was the principle of the action that drove him; a need to make a difference.

“I understand what you mean,” I said quietly, looking down at my clasped hands. “I want to make a difference here.” In this world. “I don’t want to be more words on a gravestone.”

I didn’t want to join Norgan. Not just yet.

“Nobody wants to be just another name,” Aban said. “It’s human nature. But I’ve seen too many people take to kicking others to give themselves a semblance of power.”

I peeked out a nearby window, noticing it was getting dark. I’d have to leave soon. I thought of my plans for the immediate future: I would give myself a few weeks to grow used to my new emblem and work on a few saber styles with Lady Dawn before I went into the Relictombs. Then, most of my goals revolved around simply growing stronger, and preparing to face Nico.

But not all of them. There would be a time after Nico.

I stood up. “It’s getting dark out, so I’ve gotta go, unfortunately.”

Aban nodded reluctantly, standing up himself. “I hope I can see you again, Dusk. You proved I was not a coward. That’s something that I cannot repay.”

I shook my head. “You proved that to yourself, Aban. I had nothing to do with it.”

It was true. I hadn’t convinced the man to save me; he’d done it himself. And from what I’d heard, he’d recruited the rest of the mages I’d saved in the Clarwood Forest himself. The man showed tremendous courage.

Aban held a hand up haltingly as I turned, stopping me in his tracks. There was a strange expression on his face, a twist to his brows, and a turn of his lips that gave me pause.

“Dusk, I saw your rune when you fell,” he said quietly. “And I saw all the abilities you displayed. I did my best to hide your spine from everybody else.”

I turned to him slowly. Aban wasn’t threatening me, I knew. Our conversation a minute before had been too earnest; too close. But my attention sharpened to the man in front of me. He looked smaller as he tried to make himself speak.

“I’ve heard rumors about the war, about how the other continent uses mana,” he said, whispering even though we were alone in his house. “Watch yourself out there, please. Our continent is cruel.”

My brain stuttered to a halt at the question, trying to figure out where it came from. He assumed I was somehow connected to the other continent, which wasn’t far off. But how did I reply?

I nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact. Even though the man was wrong about my connections, the fact that he was giving me advice cemented my opinion of him further.

“I’d like to consider you a friend, Aban,” I said. “If you are in any trouble, I’ll do my best to help. If Bloodstone or anybody else tries to threaten you, I’ll have your back.”