Toren Daen

I mentally turned the page of my book, nearing the end. It hung in the air in front of me, a white outline holding it aloft. Nearby, another book floated in front of an invisible reader, drawing an odd stare from the random people who walked by.

I was in the West Fiachra Library, reading up everything I could find on the Relictombs. I’d discovered a lot of useful information over the past few weeks: the average placement of exit portals and convergence zones, signs a zone might contain a relic, and protocol for certain scenarios.

This last book, however, had been filled with nothing but conjecture. Maybe the Relictombs could create relics on the fly. Maybe the zones used to house intelligent life. Maybe the ancient mages were still operating the Relictombs from the shadows.

Granted, it was a book on theory, not proven fact. I was running out of resources here.

Nearby, Lady Dawn’s shade read through another text about the cosmos. She didn’t seek out many different tomes as I browsed the library, even though she was spoiled for choice.

I turned a page of her book with my telekinetic rune, having long ago gotten an intrinsic sense for when it was needed.

I sighed, floating my book down to the table in front of me. The hardwood was covered in pages of scrawled notes, a litany of information I thought important to write down. This was what I did most of the morning each day. In the afternoons and evenings, I ventured into the Clarwood Forest to adapt to my new abilities and weapons.

And it was almost time to actually apply for an ascender’s badge. As I’d read in my books, the test I would take would differ depending on whether I registered as a caster or striker.

That was something I was still debating. My spellform was that of a caster, but my abilities revolved around fighting in the close and medium range. I could be either-or, but I was leaning toward striker.

“What makes you so intent on these Relictombs?” Lady Dawn asked from over her book, meeting my eyes. She remained quiet most of the time, but I guessed my single-track focus of the past few weeks was bound to raise curiosity in even the most patient of asura.

I need power if I am to fight the Anchor, I replied over our link, organizing my notes with the assistance of my telekinesis emblem. I’d gotten far better telepathic communication; masking my emotions and conveying exactly what I wanted. And even if I wasn’t aiming to fight such a powerful foe, I need a safer place to practice my abilities. The Relictombs provides the best place for that.

Lady Dawn tilted her head. “I fail to see how this warrants such intense research,” the phoenix replied, her eyes roving over the papers I was trying and failing to make into a manageable stack.

I paused, wondering how I could best explain. I’d given her a basic rundown: the Tombs were a multitude of interlinked pocket dimensions that were designed to test prospective mages.

They react differently to some individuals, I answered internally, finally managing to pull together all my notes. I shouldn’t expect them to treat me any differently than your random Alacryan, but I don’t know. I know they can detect those of djinni descent, so I should be safe. I ran a hand through my hair, which was starting to get a bit long. This is just really stressful, so I’ve been overpreparing.

The phoenix stilled, her eyes narrowing. “These tombs react to those with the blood of the djinn?” she asked, a strange note to her voice.

I looked up. Yeah. They’re semi-conscious. Or something close to that. It’s not really clear. But they’re searching for a descendant to pass down their knowledge to. I stored the papers in my dimension ring, scanning over the table to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. So it really should ignore me, but I’m a bit paranoid.

The Relictombs were weird. The Beginning After the End didn’t do their quirks justice.

Lady Dawn slowly stood from her chair. To me, the movement looked like a bent bar of metal slowly returning to its normal shape. She didn’t push off the chair, just unnaturally unfolded. Her body phased through the book that hovered in front of her, the bound tome ignoring her ethereal form as if it were a mirage.

“You were wise to research,” the phoenix said, looking past me. I felt a hint of hesitance over our bond, making me feel confused. Did she want me to know she felt this emotion, or did it genuinely leak through? “These tombs may indeed react to your presence.”

I furrowed my brow. I thought you said I didn’t have any djinni ancestry. My healing factor is from very, very diluted Vritra heritage.

“You do not have the blood of the djinn,” the asura said, lifting her hands to me. She indicated her arms. I followed the movement, trying to understand her implications. I stared for an uncomfortably long time.

I don’t see how your arms connect to this, I said questioningly, looking back to the asura. She seemed unamused.

“Not my arms, Contractor,” she replied in a suffering tone. “How do they appear to you? What is… unnatural about them?”

Oh, I realized, my frown deepening. She wasn’t referencing her arms. It was her skin.

Lady Dawn’s skin was a deep, dusky purple, something that was unnatural and ephemeral on her body. The color seemed to drink in the light, only making her flaming hair glow in contrast. But what did that mean? What was she implying?

“You’re part djinn,” I said, my jaw dropping in astonishment. “But I thought you were a full-blooded phoenix!” I only realized a second later that I had actually said that out loud. I hastily shut my mouth.

“I am a true-blood phoenix of the Asclepius Clan,” Lady Dawn countered, slowly lowering her arm. Her burning eyes lingered on her pristine skin. “But we phoenixes… our vessels are not so linear and static as those of other asuras. As our Flame flickers out, we rebuild our bodies, taking elements gifted to us and molding our new forms like clay in an artist’s waiting hands. We create a masterpiece better than the last.” The phoenix was quiet for a long, long time. “These aspects of my body were given as a gift.”

I swallowed, feeling as Lady Dawn’s emotions retreated with each word. Speaking about this was like a sharp sting to her, each syllable a forced admission that resonated with carefully concealed pain.

She didn’t feel like what she had was a gift. Somehow, it was a loss.

I opened my mouth, trying to think of words of comfort, to do something to assuage her pent-up emotion, but Lady Dawn cut me off by continuing her speech. “And so, any preparation you may make will need to compensate for the eventuality that you are tested in my place.”

I closed my mouth, looking into Lady Dawn’s burning eyes. I saw it there, with that strange ability of mine to read her nonexistent cues. Oftentimes I asked myself how I could understand those pits of fire. Was I comprehending the flow of turbulent plasma, somehow? Did each pulse and lick of flame inside correlate to a feeling I somehow deciphered?

They looked old.

She didn’t want to talk about her strange past, and I couldn’t force her.

Well, that cements my preparations, at least, I thought. I put the book I was reading back onto its shelf, then began walking toward a set of stairs toward the lower level of the library. I passed a few students huddled around tables, getting some lingering stares. Most weren’t hostile, just curious.

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That was something I’d had to get used to over the past few weeks. As the effects of the Joans’ collapse spread out like a shockwave, my identity had become an open secret among noble circles. Blood Daen had taken its revenge against their enemies, fulfilling a Blood debt. Considering the Joans were almost universally despised in Fiachra, I was lucky to avoid vengeful allies trying to take a bite out of my hide.

Instead, I was granted a strange sort of respect because of my revenge. More than a few people had tried to approach me, asking thinly veiled questions about my future plans and what I hoped to do next. And maybe I could work for them? After all, they had amazing resources to provide.

I had been honest. I was going to be an ascender, gaining accolades and prestige for my Blood in the old way. Blood Daen would return to its roots. No, I wasn’t looking for work. No, I wasn’t going to help your enemies. No, you don’t need to worry about me trying to attack anybody else.

Part of me wondered how the Bloods of Fiachra would try and weave me into their plots. The other part desperately ignored them.

I passed by the reception desk, nodding briefly to Wade. His skaunter, Apple, lounged by his chair. A few academy girls were cooing and petting the little mana beast, ruffling its fur with choruses of ‘Awww, aren’t you adorable!’ I wasn’t fooled by the little beast’s cute act.

I squinted at the mana beast. It burrowed deeper into the girls’ hands as it shriveled under my glare, seeking faux comfort from the naive trainees. The girls turned hostile eyes on me as I stared at the mana beast.

I huffed, walking out of the library. That little skaunter knew I was on to it. Why else would it try and get pity from those girls?

“I do not see why you hold such ire toward the mana beast,” Lady Dawn commented in my head. “It is an ineffective weapon, barely a threat to any it nears. It seems to be a simple pet.”

I walked the straight and narrow streets of West Fiachra, vaguely heading east. It’s wild, you’ll see, I murmured over our bond. One day, it’s going to chew somebody’s arm off, and then I’ll be proven right.

I felt a feathering of amusement over our bond as Lady Dawn let the topic drop.

West Fiachra was crowded in the morning. Vendors and merchants peddled their wares in this area, trying to attract passersby. I noted a few men wearing robes exposing their spines. I could feel the push and pull of mana all around me this close to mages, their presence having an effect on the ambient mana.

And true to form, I felt something–someone–watching me as I left the library. I slowed my pace, meandering toward some merchant’s stalls, pretending to look over their wares. A big, burly man explained to me the benefits of using his snake oil medicine. I listened half-heartedly, feigning interest and asking questions about its use in various medical emergencies. The man smiled, nodded along, and lied to my face as he explained the fake benefits it could offer.

Do you see the person following us? I asked Lady Dawn using our bond. It seems to be a block or so back. It's a very subtle presence; far better than most who have trailed me before.

Lady Dawn couldn’t go far from my body, but I didn’t need her to travel too far. My bond was invisible to mortal eyes and incorporeal, giving her a superb advantage in surveillance. She gave me a hint of mental affirmation before leaving through the crowded streets. I could almost imagine her vaguely condescending stare as she did as I requested. An asura wasn’t a spy, after all.

A few seconds later, Lady Dawn’s voice brushed against my mind. “Several mages watch from different stalls,” she said. “All appear to be sentries, except for one. They are not wearing anything that could identify their allegiance.”

I respectfully declined to buy the merchant’s faux drug, moving back to the winding streets. I made sure to make my movements unhurried and calm. I had only sensed one of the mages. Thanks for spotting them, I affirmed my bond. Are they following me now?

Silence for a moment. “They trail through the crowd from afar. They don’t have a direct line of sight.”

They’re good, I thought with trepidation. So they weren’t tracking me by sight. Mana signature, then? I wondered to myself. Considering some of them might be sentries, the possibilities were basically infinite. Damn.

I tried to take several turns as I wandered over the canals of West Fiachra, changing my course north. There were more mages as you moved northward, as that was where the Fiachran Ascender’s Association was located. Hopefully, the effect on the ambient mana would help confuse whatever tracking method these mages were using.

That had worked before for a few of the tracking teams I’d had to shake in the past. These men, however, were competent. No matter which direction I chose, they seemed to follow me from a far distance.

It wasn’t just respect that I’d earned destroying Blood Joan. I’d earned interest, and I was quickly becoming sick of it.

What are they trying to do? I thought, grinding my teeth as I crossed a bridge over a canal. They aren’t getting any closer, just keeping a ways away. Are they trying to track me back to the Rats’ base in the Cistern?

Shaking those thoughts off, I finally made a decision. I cut off toward one of the canal tunnels that dug through a hill nearby. As I entered the path, the sunlight was replaced by dim lighting artifacts, casting everything in low shadow.

I bent my knees, enveloping myself in my telekinetic shroud. Then I jumped straight up, twisting midair. As I soared, I flared my mana toward my emblem.

My feet impacted the roof of the tunnel, twenty feet above. But I didn’t fall. My boots stayed latched to the ceiling, two small pulling forces emanating from my soles and keeping me anchored to the arched tunnel bricks.

I walked along the ceiling, suppressing my mana signature to the best of my ability. Before I got my emblem, doing this wall-walking would have quickly drained my mana reserves and mental strength. But now I could latch onto walls with my telekinesis like a magical Spiderman.

Four mages entered the tunnels several minutes later. They were unhurried, their steps confident. I spied them from above, staying lashed onto the bricks as I hung upside down.

My enhanced eyes allowed me to make out their features. They weren’t wearing the traditional mage’s clothing that exposed their runes, but now that they were close I could get a better sense of their cores. They were certainly following me.

Their steps slowed as they noticed I wasn’t in the tunnel. Inquisitive eyes were turned to one of the sentries, who began to work their spellform.

Nope, I thought, letting out a pulse of mana. You’re not taking my element of surprise. All heads turned to me with speed, doing a one-eighty to look up at the ceiling behind them. There wasn’t fear in their postures, only a wary caution.

“I don’t appreciate being followed,” I said from my perch on the ceiling. “But as skilled as all of you are, you should know entering a tunnel after your target is always a sign of a trap.”

The mages shuffled as I called them out. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lord,” one said, taking a step forward. His eyes were resolute and unconcerned. “My friends and I were hoping to catch one of Fiachra’s famous riverboats for a tour. We heard that they could be hailed from these tunnels. If we gave any offense, I apologize.”

Part of that statement was true. The exits of the tunnels were often used as a pickup spot for transport for people wanting to ride the boats along the canal.

I pushed out with my killing intent, altering my voice slightly with sound magic. “You have given offense,” I said, narrowing my attention on them as I hung like a bat. “You’ve been following me since the library.”

The pressure made a few of them shudder, the lighting artifacts around me flickering as I pressed with force.

The lead mage's hand was lingering near his waist. Reaching for a weapon that was usually there, maybe? “We don’t want any trouble, lord mage,” he said, his eyes darting toward the lighting artifacts. It seemed that had unnerved him slightly. “If there is any way–”

Another one of the mages let out a shuddering breath. “We were sent to protect you,” they interrupted, causing the other eyes to flicker to him. He gulped from my full focus. “You drew some attention, Toren Daen. Bad attention.”

It seemed they weren’t keeping up the facade as before. The lead mage–a man with deep, seaweed green hair–grunted in irritation, glaring at the sentry who’d spoken, but he didn’t try and deny his words.

I narrowed my eyes, running through what they’d just said. Protect me from what? And why?

“I can handle myself,” I decided to say. “I have a lot of eyes on me. Why don’t you tell me why you think I need your protection?”

I was taking their words with a pinch of salt, but it was always worth it to hear out the opposition. Besides, when I usually caught the people tailing me, they fled after the first confrontation. That these men tried to stand their ground was novel.

The sentry’s face went carefully blank. “We can’t tell you,” he said. “But Blood Joan had powerful backers. You are not as safe as you believe.”

“And who wants me to be safe?” I asked, a bit of a sneer in my voice. “Excuse me if I don’t believe the words of my tails.”

The lead mage, who I recognized was a striker from the flare of his mana around his body, grit his teeth. “Our employer is intent on keeping you safe, Toren Daen, but threats will not be taken lightly.”

I briefly considered my options. I could fight these men. Considering what I felt from the striker, I could probably defeat them without casualties, too. But I’d been tracked so often these past few weeks that if I tried to apprehend every man who tailed me, I’d have a list of captives as long as I was tall.

Ultimately, it wasn’t worth pushing.

I let my telekinesis fade, dropping to the floor below without a sound. “I don’t want to kill any of you,” I said with finality. “I don’t care what your employer thinks of threats. Keep following me and I’ll leave your bodies to float down the canals.”

I pierced their leader with a stare, making sure my intent was loud and clear. Then I swept out of the alleyway, leaving the mages to awkwardly stand beside the water.