Toren Daen

“Striker candidate Toren Daen,” said a tall woman with a face that looked like it hadn’t seen enough coffee, “Flexibility of offensive magic, above average. Manipulation of mana, average. Athleticism, exceptional. Mental acuity, above average. Survivability rate, high.”

One of the greatest injustices in this world was that there was no coffee in it. I saw it in the eyes of practically every receptionist I’d met on this continent.

She held her notepad to the side. “You’ve passed your ascender’s assessment, Lord Daen. Congratulations are in order.”

I smiled tiredly. The assessment differed very little from what was displayed in The Beginning After the End and in my own research. The only notable change was the mana beasts I was tasked with fighting. Instead of giant arachnoids, I faced the small shadow cats I’d fought in the Clarwood Forest.

Regis’s assumption that he and Arthur faced normal mana beasts from the surface was correct.

A small man clothed in the same white mage’s robe and red armband spoke up next. “Since you displayed moderate caster abilities, we recommend partying with a shield and sentry as your primary focus, though a capable caster should be on your radar.”

I nodded, shaking each of their hands. I hadn’t displayed many ranged abilities such as my fireballs, sound grenades, or the techniques I had trained in the Clarwood Forest these past few weeks. Instead, I used generic fire, sound, and telekinetic shrouds along with Oath and Promise to deal with the obstacles I faced.

Hofal watched from the sidelines, too worn and shaken from today’s earlier events to comment. He nodded as I stepped in next to him, and both of us silently escorted back to the Fiachran Ascender’s Association.

“You did very well for a non-academy mage,” Hofal said from the side. “That’s something to be proud of, Toren,” he said.

I shrugged. “I had a great teacher,” I replied. “Now, I’ve got to prepare for my first ascent.”

My dimension ring was filled and double-filled with rations and water. I wasn’t taking the possibility of the Relictombs reacting to Lady Dawn lightly

Hofal looked at me. “You’re not going into the Relictombs without me, Toren,” he said, patting the axe on his belt. “I’m going to join you.”

I turned to face him, surprised by his assertion. “Why? I thought you were retired from ascending.”

“I did retire, Toren,” he said, his gruff voice seeming older. “But I’m not going to sign you up to be an ascender just to leave you to take your prelim with strangers.”

My thoughts jumped back to Lady Dawn’s warning. I couldn’t predict how the Relictombs would react to me. If I let Hofal come with me on my ascent, I would be responsible for anything that happened to him as a result.

I pulled Hofal off to the side, getting a perturbed look from the man, the act emphasizing his bushy brows. I lowered my voice as I spoke. “Look, Hofal, I can’t predict how the Relictombs will react to my presence. It could be a lot more dangerous than you’re used to.”

Hofal scrutinized my face. “Then that’s all the more reason for me to go with you,” he said. “I don’t know what you’re fighting, Toren, but you don’t need to do it alone.”

I swallowed at his words, looking away. I thought of his helpful advice last night and how I finally began to meld into the community again.

I was alone in this.

“No,” I said again, shaking my head. “I won’t be responsible for what might happen to you. If you want to, you can wait near the descension portal for me.”

Hofal and I stared each other down for a minute before he reluctantly sighed. I wasn’t going to budge on this, no matter what.

“I’ll admit I am too old to be a strong ascender any longer. I would only slow you down, I think. But at least allow me to find you a competent ascender to take you on your prelim. I’ve got some old connections I can pull on,” he said, almost pleading. “You do remember what I said to you, about being reckless?”

That interaction with the vicars shook him far more than I thought, I realized as I considered. He’s worried for me, far more than before.

“Okay,” I said, moving back to the path toward the Relictombs portal. Hofal followed slightly behind me, a contrast to his confidence from when we first arrived.

“His worry makes sense,” Lady Dawn interjected. “The Doctrination are cruel and competent. They are not so fragile as the Joans,” she said.

That gave me pause. What do you know about them that I don’t? I asked.

Lady Dawn didn’t respond.

My feet had begun to take me toward the portal to the Relictombs a ways away. It stood tall and proud, glowing a shimmering purple as it rose over the long line in front of it. I could trace the runes on the edge from memory, each glyph matching a sign on my signet ring.

I held my hand up, my perspective from so far off making it look like I held the portal in my grasp. I compared the runes on my ring to the ones shining a brilliant violet on the portal rim contemplatively.

I got into line behind a couple of mages who were bent over an artifact, discussing something in hushed whispers. It didn’t take long for the line to diminish. Hofal and I entered the pearlescent portals, the transfer seamless as I appeared on the first layer of the Relictombs.

I was immediately struck by the difference in lighting. The first layer of the Relictombs was dark, with only tall cranes hoisting huge spheres radiating light and torches along the pathways. The sound of splitting rock dominated the zone, huge quarries nearby working to extract marble-like stone. Cattle-like mana beasts roamed in specialized pastures, feasting on an orange grass I couldn’t recognize.

I was jostled to the side by the next person exiting the portal, prompting me to get a move on. Hofal seemed to regain some of his confidence as we entered a place more familiar to him, taking the lead once more.

We began to walk toward the portal leading to the second layer of the Relictombs, joining the droves of ascenders waiting in line. “It’s a lot to take in,” I said absently, my eyes wandering.

I accidentally met the gaze of a nearby man with extremely bright clothes. He flashed a fake smile that showed too many teeth, immediately moving toward me. Hofal groaned.

“I can tell you’re new here!” the man said, holding up a small bottle. “Which is why I know you’ll appreciate our discount protein paste. It keeps for a long, long time, so you won’t have to worry about running out of food on your ascents!”

“Uh,” I said, taken aback by this man’s flamboyant attire and attitude. “No, thank you?”

“Come now,” the man said, his eyes roaming my body in a way that made me feel like I had been dunked in oil. “You’re here for your preliminary ascent, aren’t you? Anything can happen in the Relictombs. It’s always wise to be prepared!”

“My nephew here is already prepared for his ascent,” Hofal said, laying a hand on my shoulder. He looked at the salesman with an expression that could pierce stone. “We don’t need to purchase anything more.”

“Nonsense,” the salesman said again, his smile turning a bit more strained. “Why, just last week one of my customers was nearly trapped in a zone! It was only my patented preserves that allowed him to–”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Hofal turned me away from the man, leaving the salesman to flounder awkwardly. I got the idea quickly: if I simply ignored the sales pitch, the man would eventually find a more suitable target.

The brightly dressed salesman eventually went back to his nearby stall, grumbling slightly about Hofal ruining his game. It might not have been audible to me if not for my enhanced hearing.

“First rule of the Relictombs, Toren: never look away from the portal to the second layer. You’re inviting trouble if you do. That’s how they identify wogarts.”

I nodded slowly in acknowledgment, forcibly keeping my focus ahead. It was hard: there were so many things clamoring for my attention. Brightly colored salesmen, the crooning of beasts, and the crunching of stone from the quarries. Not to mention the smell was atrocious, but I’d adapted to worse in the sewers. “How long were you an ascender?” I asked curiously.

“Fifteen odd years,” the middle-aged man replied, a faraway look in his eyes. “Before that, I was an initiate in the Doctrination.”

I considered this for a moment. “Why did you leave?” I asked. “The Doctrination, I mean.”

“I wanted to be part of something big,” Hofal replied. I had a feeling there was more than one reason he kept his gaze trained on the portal to the second layer. “When I was a boy, I watched a temple being built, stone by stone. When it was done, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But the inside… the inside was rotten,” he said, trailing off.

Our walk to the second portal continued in relative silence. After handing my ascender’s badge to the guard, both Hofal and I were allowed to the second level.

It was even more overwhelming than the first. An entire city stretched before me under a sunless sky, the crowded streets swarming with mana signatures. Inns stretched in every direction, directing the flow of foot traffic with their inviting signs. Blacksmiths, weapon markets, and other multi-level storefronts threatened to overwhelm my eyes.

It was a lot to take in.

Hofal patted me on the shoulder, drawing me down another street that he walked familiarly. “Where are we going?” I asked. “You said you wanted to find me a team, but you didn’t tell me how.”

“I might have taken the liberty of calling on a few old friends of mine before you took your exam,” Hofal said. “They should be waiting for you at the inn we used to use as a meetup spot.”

I hoped these mages were powerful enough to fight what Lady Dawn’s lineage may bring down upon us. I already wasn’t comfortable ascending with others due to the uncertainty around how I would affect the Relictombs. But I had no other choice if I wanted to go on my preliminary ascent.

I followed slowly after Hofal as I quietly marveled at the sprawling city around me. It was easily many times the size of Fiachra, with each and every street alive with light and mana. I watched as a young mage hawked his goods to passersby, drawing a few interested men and women. A busty mage with blonde hair advertised an inn on a small sign, and from the way the cut of her dress emphasized her chest, I had a feeling most of the clientele they’d attract would be men.

“Enjoying the view?” Hofal asked, causing me to jump slightly.

Uh…

“The second layer of the Relictombs always gets this reaction from every new ascender,” Hofal said, not noticing my flush. “You’re taking it remarkably well. When I first saw this level, I couldn’t keep focused on one thing at all.”

“Yeah,” I said with a stilted laugh. Stupid, puberty-driven body. “I haven’t seen anything so strange. I wonder how all of this is even possible. I mean, an entirely self-contained dungeon that people can populate? It seems impossible.”

Of course, I knew the answer: aether. But part of me–the part still grounded in earthen physics and scientific method–wondered how in the hell this place worked. The gravity here felt just as stable as on the world outside. Did that mean this dimension was just as large as the planet and spherical to generate that pull? Or was the gravity magically applied by some aspect of this zone?

I was able to accept all of this remarkably well, at least until I started thinking about it too much.

“You’ll see a lot of things you’d think were impossible on ascents,” Hofal chided. “Don’t let yourself get stuck on little things. That’s what the researchers are for.”

I wondered if the Sovereign’s researchers could even figure this place out. There were two professions considered positions of absolute honor in Alacryan society: being an ascender or being a researcher. Strength of body and strength of mind.

Researchers were tasked with trying to advance the implementation of mana in everyday life and dissecting the mysteries of the Relictombs. From the books I had access to, they had made many leaps and bounds in understanding some of the relics retrieved, but none in regards to how the Tombs actually functioned.

Then again, I doubted discoveries such as those would be public knowledge.

“Part of me doesn’t want to know how these impossibilities work,” I said honestly, staring at the sunless sky. Somehow, despite the lack of a star in the sky, this place was constantly illuminated as if there was one. Shadows were cast at an angle, indicating some sort of light was streaming downward diagonally, but looking in that direction revealed nothing in the air but a tapestry of blue. “It would ruin some of the mystique. If I knew how this worked, it wouldn’t be quite as magical.”

Hofal hummed. Our walk continued in relative silence afterward until we reached a small inn. The sign above the door read ‘The Shimmerken’s Hoard.’

Opening the door revealed a homey atmosphere with a flickering hearth at the end. The inn had a few patrons wandering about, carrying pints of alcohol and patting each other on the back. Every single one of them was a mage, something I still wasn’t used to.

A bartender looked over the controlled ruckus with a weary but approving eye, cleaning a mug with a dry rag. In the corner, a man was playing the lute, adding a lilting ambiance to the already hearty feeling in the air.

Hofal entered the inn with a spring in his steps, leading me toward a specific table in the back. It was large and round, occupied by a diverse array of characters.

As Hofal approached the table, a tall man stood, sensing our approach. He had blonde hair and piercing green eyes. When he spotted my friend, he flashed a playful smile.

“Hofal!” he said patting the axe-wielder on the back with a heavy thump. “It’s been too long! Have you been retired for a year already?”

“Nearly two,” Hofal acknowledged. “I hope my request didn’t take you away from anything important.”

The blonde man dismissed Hofal’s concern with a wave. “Don’t worry about it, old friend. You’ve helped me out of too many scraps for this to inconvenience me.” His attention turned to me. “And I presume you are Toren Daen?”

I nodded, raising my hand to shake. “In the flesh. I don’t know what Hofal said about me, but I hope I exceed whatever lofty expectations you have,” I said with a smirk.

“Good to meet you, Toren.” The man took my hand. His shake was steady and firm. “Darrin Ordin, at your service.”

My hand unconsciously clenched, making Darrin’s brow furrow slightly. I quickly smoothed out my shock.

“Of the Unblooded party?” I said, recovering. “I’m surprised you’d be taking me on my prelim.”

Darrin scratched the back of his neck, his boyish grin appearing there. It seemed I’d recovered from my slip. “You’ve heard of us, then? Hofal told me you’ve helped him do some real good for the people in East Fiachra,” he said. “And anybody that helps those less privileged than them is good in my book.”

Hofal spoke up next. “Darrin’s a good man, Toren. I’m half convinced if he visited Fiachra before our work, he’d try and take down the Joans himself. There’s nobody I’d trust more to take you into the Relictombs.”

I kept my face carefully calm as I went over all I knew about Darrin Ordin. He had helped Arthur when he was on trial by the Granbehls, citing a desire to help those who didn’t have a named or highblood backing. But in the books, Darrin was retired, living his days semi-peacefully in his estate in rural Sehz-Clar.

“You give me too much credit, Hofal. I’ve got a habit of helping up-and-coming ascenders without backing get through academies, and on the rare instance, their prelims.”

A woman behind Darrin stood up, brushing off her red-lined battlerobes. “He has a habit of taking in strays,” she said with a good-natured smile. Her auburn hair trailed down to her back, bringing out the freckles on her cheeks. “His bleeding heart is a bit too big for his chest.”

Darrin rolled his eyes while the woman introduced herself. “I’m Alandra. Darrin’s our resident striker, while I support him as a sentry.” I shook her hand. “Our caster is currently being a bit flighty, so we’ll have to make it through a zone without their assistance.”

At the mention of other party members, I looked behind them. There was another man conked out on the table. He had a longer beard that was currently soaking up some spilled drink on the table.

“That’s Jared,” Alandra said with an irritated huff, kicking the man hard in the leg. He bolted awake, knocking over the mug that was emptied in front of him. “He pretends to be a shield.”

The man blinked owlishly, trying to adjust to the light. He only had one eye, the other covered by an eyepatch. The eye he had left wandered around with the confusion only somebody who has just been roused from a deep sleep possesses. “What’s up? Are we leaving already?”

Darrin chuckled. “You know, Jared, while you were sleeping we found your replacement.” He slapped me on the back. “He’s got all the qualifications to be an amazing shield, like staying awake during meetings.”

Jared glared at Darrin. “It’s not my fault your long speeches are boring and the ale is good.” He looked at me with his single eye. “Hey, kid? Try and stay alive. The pay’s not great and all your teammates will try and ruin your beauty sleep, but–hey!”

Alandra had pulled the elastic band of Jared’s eyepatch, then let it snap back into place. I winced at the sound. That was sure to sting. “You horrid woman!” he cried, trying to ward her off with his hand.

“That’ll keep you awake, you miser. We’re taking Toren here on his prelim.”

Jared pulled himself out of his chair with a grumbled, “Nobody appreciates me around here,” but it was a good-natured kind of mumbling.

Darrin shook his head at their antics, turning back to me. “So Toren, are you ready to be an ascender?”