Toren Daen

Alandra was right, even if she nearly tumbled into the welldraw kantamid’s trap. Underneath the corpse were tarnished remains of an old culture. I recognized the bones of a few ascenders and what was left of their gear, some unfortunate souls lost to the ages under the sandy body of this insectoid monster.

Anything with more than four legs really did deserve to die.

Accolades were split evenly among us according to battle contribution, but both Darrin and I cut our portions in half so it was an even divide between the four of us. After all, Alandra was the one who found the kantamid, even if by accident. And Jared was the one who caught the sentry after I rather unceremoniously tossed her to him.

It wasn’t much loot, but it was a worthy prize for the effort of the battle according to Darrin. Our party had decided to camp on the outskirts of the kantamid trap as the sun began to slowly dip under the horizon.

Darrin had a few tarp tents set up for us all. As the sun lowered, the temperature dropped exponentially. Even though dusk hadn’t fully wrapped the world in its grip, it was already pleasantly cool.

The sands didn’t provide stable foundations for our tents, but the Unblooded party weathered through with clear experience. Jared conjured long, thin poles of metal, using them to anchor our tents deep down. Alandra used what little fire manipulation she could to fuse the sand together around the metal poles, further solidifying them in place. Even though the two constantly bickered as they did it, they worked flawlessly as a team.

“We’ll have to put out the fire once night comes,” Darrin was saying. “I don’t know what sort of beasts hunt in the night of this zone, but you can be sure they’ll see our light as a beacon to swarm us. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be overrun in the desert.”

“How are we going to set up night watch?” Jared asked, already looking like he was ready to fall asleep. He was still caked in sand from the tumble he and Alandra had taken, and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t managed to get a single grain out of his beard.

I was wondering at what point he would have to cut his losses and simply shave it off. When I asked, he’d simply looked at me like I was insane.

“I’ll take the last watch,” Darrin offered, “Since I know neither of you two will want it,” he said with good humor.

In the end, it turned out that I would take the first watch. Apparently, the other three agreed that it was the easiest watch for a beginner. This was because I essentially only had to stay two hours up past my normal bedtime instead of waking up in the middle of my sleep and being forced to stay attentive.

That was nice of them.

I sat on a small metal cube Jared had conjured for the watch to sit in. Our tents were arranged in a circular formation around the box, and the tents were close enough to the ground that I could see over them with ease.

Alandra and Jared had already settled into their tents, and I could swear I already heard the one-eyed shield snoring. I could definitely hear Alandra complaining about said snoring in low mutters, audible to my enhanced ears.

“If you spot anything you don’t feel sure about, don’t hesitate to wake us up,” Darrin said, taking one last look around the sands. The light was low now, and the temperature was actually somewhat pleasant. “I expect these sands will be a lot more active at night. Keep your eyes peeled.”

I nodded wordlessly. Darrin shuffled back to his tent, getting into the small cloth bundle with ease.

And so I settled in to wait. The only sound was the brush of wind as it raced through the air. As was my habit since training in the Clarwood Forest, I looked to the sky.

I felt a shock run through me as I realized there were no stars in the sky. I didn’t know why I expected to see them in this pocket dimension. For all the power of the djinn, they could never create the far-off galaxies, light years away. Even if it was fake, maybe I wanted to see a tapestry of lights flickering across the sky.

There was no Basilisk’s Tail. No Struggling Ascender. The Lightning Spell was nowhere to be seen, the galactic pocket nonexistent in this other realm.

Looking up at this starless expanse, I was forcibly reminded of my previous life. Pollution blocked out the night sky, the fires of industry taking the constellations as fuel for rampant progress.

The Unseen World washed over my vision. Lady Dawn was peering at the sky herself, a strange longing in her burning eyes. As part of our routine, Lady Dawn would help me assimilate, and then I’d withdraw one of her books on the distant suns from my dimension ring for her to read.

“Why do you love the stars so much?” I found myself blurting out. “I don’t know much about your life, Lady Dawn, but I see how you watch the sky every night.”

The phoenix didn’t look at me. The absence of the stars seemed to strike her even deeper than it did me, hints of repressed emotion bleeding over our bond.

I suddenly felt guilty for asking. It seemed to be a far more personal question than I had expected, like tearing at a scab before it had fully healed. Lady Dawn and I, while I liked to think we were allies, still kept a certain distance. And my question bridged that gap. I opened my mouth to retract my question.

“Asura live a long, long time,” Lady Dawn said, her voice softer than I was used to. “We don’t even know how long our natural lifespans are, especially phoenixes. I lived for thousands and thousands of years. I am old for an asura, Toren Daen. I am old for any form of life.”

Lady Dawn’s brilliant outline seemed to dim. She was the only star silhouetted against the sky. “Most of us, when it becomes too much, we simply… fade. Existence grows too tiresome, the burden of opening your eyes day after day beyond daunting. Each and every step is the same as the ones you took a year ago. The same path you traveled a decade ago. And a century, and a millennium. And so we pass on our Wills, and then drift away. It is an end to monotony and endless repetition. The final chord in a symphony of pointlessness.” The asura tilted her head. Her hair rustled in the breeze, covering part of her face. “But over the many millennia, we have found a way to combat this gradual exhaustion. We focus our minds on a single concept; an idea to Anchor ourselves. It has its own downsides, but we live.”

I listened intently; this bit of information was new to me. The Beginning After the End never spoke of the intricacies and the sorrowful end these gods-in-flesh experienced.

“The djinn… They were much the same. Not in lifespan, or in the weariness of existence. No, the djinn were as short-lived as any man. But a djinn would dedicate their entire life to discovering insight around specific doctrines and studies. They could change it whenever they willed, but it was rare.”

“And was your focus the stars?” I asked as silence overtook us.

“No,” the asura said, a slight smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “No, my husband loved the stars. They were his passion and his joy. He wanted to visit them one day. He promised me he would find a way to brave the vacuum of space, taking me with him. We would see the Dawn from up close.”

I knew from the melancholic emotion that threaded over our bond that she had never been able to see the sun as her husband had promised.

“In my… previous life,” I said, speaking up, “Our greatest scientists wanted to reach the stars. We sent men to our moon, landing them there and planting a flag of our country. We had all sorts of dreams ourselves of visiting distant galaxies, spreading our influence across the universe.” I ran my tongue over my lips. “I wonder if there is a universe out there where man reached the stars. The physicists of my previous life–people far smarter than me–came up with a dozen dimensional theories. It could be possible that there’s a world out there that could bring you to the sun.”

“I do not know if there is,” Lady Dawn replied. I rarely ever heard the asura admitting to ignorance. “But your words prove something, Toren Daen. Your kind does not recognize what their limited lifespans drive them to do. You change and you advance and you improve at a pace far beyond what should be possible. We asura? We willingly lock ourselves in place, preventing any change or growth. It was my husband who showed me the true tragedy of our civilization; one I had once thought to be grand.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. The silence lingered for a while as the asura wallowed in what felt like lingering grief.

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I didn’t like seeing Lady Dawn so downtrodden. Her will was iron, an indomitable force that pushed me on whenever I felt like giving up. In the Clarwood Forest, it was she who pushed me to train to such heights; she drove me to be better. My image of the phoenix clashed with this grieving woman.

“Has any asura ever gone to the moon?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “There’s got to be one who tried.”

The asura looked over at me, no doubt sensing my obvious attempt to bring some levity to the conversation.

She indulged me. “I believe there was a young leviathan long ago who tried to fly to the moon.” She shook her head. “He did not return, so whether he reached his destination or not is unknown.”

I blinked. “Was he properly equipped for it, or did he just try and fly into space?” I thought, a little dumbfounded.

The phoenix shrugged. “Truly, I do not know. The tale is used to frighten our young and prevent reckless actions. I believe it has a different telling in leviathan culture. The water dwellers are… strange.”

I raised a single brow. “Strange? And you aren’t?”

“Strangeness is relative, Contractor,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her otherwise placid tone. “I may be strange to you, but those who love the sea and reject the sky… They are alien to my race. Perhaps as much as the basilisks, who value decay and withering over life and growth.”

I thought about her words for a minute. I didn’t think the sea and sky were enemies. “At least in my understanding, the sea and the sky are not directly opposed. It takes both a sky and an ocean to make a hurricane, after all.”

“Perhaps, Contractor. But in the same way the storm pulls the water from the ocean, so too do phoenixes and leviathans work in unison on Epheotus. That does not mean we understand each other.”

I drummed my fingers on the little metal box, scanning the night sky. The sands shifted from afar, silhouettes of buried aether beasts rising to the surface and prowling about. Now that the air was cool and temperate, creatures that hid from the scorching heat rose through the sand like steam through the air. I saw skittering outlines roving over the sands, my enhanced ears picking out their soft chitters. Our tents were far enough away that none had approached us yet, however.

“If you think about it, death and life aren’t exactly enemies, either,” I said, feeling philosophical. “They’re a cycle: an animal dies, then the fungus under its feet breaks its body down into nutrients for the plants in the earth. An animal eats those plants to grow, continuing the circle.”

“And yet, unlike the sea and storm, life seeks desperately to avoid death. At the same time, death hounds the steps of everything living. Even if they form a cycle, it is not one of understanding, but brutal necessity,” the phoenix countered.

I watched as a small lizard-like creature surfaced near one of the tents. It wasn’t any larger than the fingers on my hands, and I had to suppress my knee-jerk reaction to kill it.

Though it seemed my words had done something to ease the asura’s mind. Our chat continued with more mundane topics for the next couple of hours, some of Lady Dawn’s sorrow melting away.

I felt a great deal of my own tension vanish as well. It might have been too early to tell, but it seemed that the Relictombs weren’t responding negatively to my presence. Darrin, Jared, and Alandra didn’t think anything was out of place, and so far we’d been able to progress without too much difficulty.

Lady Dawn vanished abruptly, as I sensed a presence approaching.

Darrin was yawning into his hand. “My turn to take watch, Toren. Get some sleep.”

I nodded, standing up from the small metal box. My legs had fallen asleep at some point, and I had to work out the tingling in them.

I didn’t even realize how tired I was. After I tucked myself into the bedroll in my tent and laid my head on the makeshift pillow, I was asleep in moments.

—

I was pulled out of my sleep by a familiar sensation. The hairs on my arms stood on end, my senses alerting me to danger. This was something I was unfortunately familiar with from my long time in the Clarwood Forest.

We had been surrounded.

I pulled myself out of my tent, my hands tightly holding Oath and Promise. It was still nighttime outside, the deep darkness masking my view of the distant sands. It was Alandra who was on watch right now, and from how she was walking, it seemed she felt the disturbance too.

She was busy poking at Jared’s tent, whispering harshly for him to wake up.

I turned. Darrin was right outside my tent, seemingly about to try and wake me up. Had he sensed it, too?

“What are we facing?” I said, deliberately lowering my voice.

If Darrin was surprised by my alertness, he didn’t show it. “We don’t know exactly. Something’s been circling us for a few minutes, disturbing the sand around. It’s drawing nearby critters here, too.”

“It’s cautious, then,” I said, considering our options as Jared finally pulled himself to his feet with a grumble. “Do you think we can expect more intelligence from it?” I asked, remembering the coordination of drift apes in the Clarwood Forest. Darrin had impressed upon me that the beasts in the Relictombs would not stop until we were dead, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be crafty about it.

“Expect it to plan,” Darrin said, tracing a faint impression in the ground. He had his gauntlets on, and his piercing green eyes seemed to take in everything at once. “It’s burrowing underground.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but a slight rumbling under my feet made me snap to awareness. I jumped with a pulse of telekinesis, blasting away just in time to avoid a gnashing set of pincers.

A giant worm spewed out of the ground like a twisted root, sending our camp equipment flying over the dunes. Darrin was sent tumbling as he was clipped by the beast’s leathery hide, his mana barrier flashing as he flew.

The beast was easily twenty feet long, with thin black spines wrapping it in a horrid cloak. The rest of its hide had intermittent sandstone plates, protecting the softer skin underneath. It had no eyes, only a circular mouth with rows upon rows of serrated teeth.

The beast screeched.

Alandra cried out, moving back and waving her wand. A stream of fire jumped from the tip, splashing against its armored hide ineffectively. It whirled on her, trying to use its long, spiny trunk of a body to smash her into the sand.

Jared was in front of her before the beast could even reach halfway. He had a large metal shield hoisted in front of him, his warhammer held loosely in his other hand.

The body impacted Jared’s shield like the sound of a hammer striking a gong. Jared’s feet dug into the sand, sinking up to his shins, but neither he nor his spell broke.

“Come on, ya beast!” He snarled. “Is that the best you can do?”

I threw Promise, latching onto it with telekinesis. The dagger accelerated as I directed it, guiding the small blade to make cuts in between the interlocking plates of sandstone.

The beast reared back, searching in vain for the source of the attack. My dagger zipped around like an annoying fly, darting in and out faster than the worm could react.

A burst of wind cratered some of the stone on the worm’s hide, causing a spray of dark red blood to spew around the crunched stone.

The beast finally found a target in Darrin Ordin. The man was bouncing on his feet a few meters away, his hands in a boxer’s stance. “Come on, worm!” he taunted, throwing a hook into the air as if he was shadowboxing. Out of nowhere, another burst of wind exploded against the beast’s damaged side. “I think I look more tasty than they do!”

It pulled itself out of the sand, lurching toward Darrin. “Jared!” he called out as he leaped away from the frenzied attack, coasting on the sand. “Watch out for Alandra!”

“Got it, you prick!” Jared called back, keeping his shield hovering protectively over the auburn-haired sentry.

I burst after the trailing worm, my dagger scoring tiny papercuts in its skin as it zipped around. I concentrated mana through my saber, causing it to hum. The red-layered steel reassured me of my purpose as I brought it across the leathery hide.

My blade parted skin, flesh, and whatever this aether beast had that counted as muscle. It cried aloud as the deep gash wept dark blood, refusing to turn away from Darrin.

Instead, the spines all around its hide began to quiver. I barely had time to react as they shot out in a spray of death.

I deflected a few with my blade, using a concentrated push of telekinesis in front of me to send a dozen more off course. A few made it through, however, striking my telekinetic barrier and making minuscule crystalline cracks spread over where I’d been hit.

I grit my teeth as I was thrown back slightly from the force. Alright, then.

Darrin continued to harry the large worm, causing a dozen wounds to open over its body, but it barely slowed down. Despite bleeding all over, it continued to writhe toward the ascender with grim determination, screeching all the way.

I stepped back, sheathing both Oath and Promise. I concentrated on one of my oldest template spells, pushing it to its limits. Sound hummed around my fist, humming as it coalesced into a shroud. If cutting wouldn’t work, I’d use Darrin’s method: brute force.

I dashed toward the aether beast, my mana thrumming around my clenched fist. My leather gloves creaked as I reared back, then slammed my fist into the mana beast’s side. My spell released on impact, rippling through the fleshy creature.

That was no simple blow. My strength, amplified by both the mana thrumming through my body and my telekinetic shroud, forcefully dispersed the effects of my sound spell through my target.

The entire length of the creature shuddered from the impact, a dull screech echoing out of its mouth. Dark red blood sprayed from every wound it had, and then it weakly turned toward me.

Darrin was faster, using the distraction I’d given him to build up a stronger spell. He slammed his gauntlets together with a crash, dual bursts of wind crushing the worm’s head from two sides. The head compressed with a spray of viscera, showering upward in a spatter of red.

The worm stilled immediately, its screeches dying out.

So I wasn’t the only mage who had a bad habit of crushing beasts’ skulls. That was good to know.

But the sounds of battle didn’t relent. Behind me, Alandra and Jared were fending off a wave of aetheric insects, and the tide didn’t look like it would relent any time soon.