Toren Daen
Jared conjured a shield in front of us, planting his feet to resist the outpour of power. The dark plates of metal rose in an interlocking weave, sheltering us from the wave.
The pressure stopped momentarily, and I felt myself blanch when I looked at the scorpion. It was leaking bodily fluids from cracks in its carapace, Darrin’s blow having shattered several of the plates. Where its eyes used to be was a bloody mess, the hilt of my dagger protruding from its face with a gleam of silver. It was undergoing some sort of change, its dark armor beginning to drip like ink on a page as it streamed along the scorpion’s body, slowly leaking toward its stinger.
It didn’t move, staying huddled on the far side of the cave. The room seemed to hold its breath as man and monster braced.
And then parts of the armor reforged around the tail, the long appendage beginning to glow darkly. A small, thin spine of carapace began to solidify on the end of the stinger.
I felt dread as I watched the inky armor cement itself once more, a foreboding sense telling me exactly what would happen next. The sharp end pointed at us, after all.
I stepped forward and threw both my hands out, sending out a telekinetic push with a diameter as wide as I could manage. An area in front of Jared’s shield glowed white with power, a visible effect of my spellform.
The darts of the re-solidified carapace streamed toward us like a hive of hornets seeking retribution straight from the scorpion’s poised stinger. I held my telekinetic force as the swarm of needles approached, a second layer of defense in front of Jared’s stalwart shield.
I could feel the momentum in each tiny spike. Instead of pushing me back, I dispersed the aftereffects with my telekinesis shroud, keeping myself firmly anchored to the ground. As the black shards hit my makeshift barrier, my constant pushing force diverted many off course. Some swerved erratically upward at their change in momentum, punching holes into the ceiling. More were deflected on either side, my spell like a rock in the midst of a raging current.
But those that were aimed straight enough blazed right through my makeshift defense, swimming through the force like a fish in a river. They pierced through Jared’s barrier with the sound of shearing metal. A few pencil-sized shards embedded themselves into Jared’s pauldrons, causing him to grunt in pain. One of the carapace slivers pinged off my telekinetic shroud, cracking it and spinning away. Then another punched through that crack, the pain making my spell falter for a moment.
Alandra and Darrin ducked as more shearing carapace shards blew past Jared’s barrier. He reformed it as fast as he could, summoning more interlocking plates to replace those destroyed, but it wouldn’t be able to keep up.
“I can’t hold it long!” Jared cried, a dark sliver glancing off his metal armor. “We’ve got to get it to stop!”
I grit my teeth as a thin spike cut a line of red on my cheek. The slice stung, making my eyes narrow. I spared a quick glance behind me. Alandra’s breathing was heavy, but she wasn’t outright panicking. Darrin seemed to be considering jumping around the stream, but I knew that would only get him peppered like a pincushion.
I felt my mana wavering. Though I had gotten far more proficient at maintaining a telekinetic push, I was forcibly stretching the surface area and holding the effect. I was losing my reserves at an accelerated pace.
My mind was almost entirely occupied with maintaining my spell. As each black blur sped through my shield, I felt my telekinetic shroud weakening slightly. It dispersed the effects of pushback at the price of its own durability.
I cast my eyes about another option, searching frantically for a way out of this. Darrin’s spells didn’t have enough range to reach the scorpion. Alandra’s weren’t powerful enough. Maybe I could get a fireshot off, interrupt its concentration-
A speck of silver amidst the dark caught my eye, the flash of my bright white mana causing it to stand out even more. The small sigil of Blood Daen gleamed on the pommel of Promise, still embedded in the creature’s eyes. A plan began to form in my head, gears turning as ideas churned.
“Jared!” I called, trying to be heard over the endless pings of metal shards into stone. “I need your hammer!”
“What?!” he yelled, his one eye staring at me wildly.
I didn’t really have time to ask. I grabbed onto the warhammer in Jared’s grip with my telekinetic control, ripping it out of his hands and sending it arcing over our heads. The hammer flew over the parting wave, streaking toward the scorpion in a flash of light.
I mentally brought the hammer down on that small dot of silver, hoping against hope my plan would work.
The constant barrage of spines stuttered, granting me a brief reprieve. I slammed the hammer down once more, this time hearing the echoing gong with my enhanced ears.
Again and again, I brought the hammer down. I couldn’t even see past Jared’s barrier, but I could hear the head of the hammer driving my dagger deeper into the scorpion’s body.
I cried out, sending an exceptionally powerful blow downward. From the timbre of the resonant strike, I could tell something had changed.
The barrage stopped completely, like a water hose being suddenly turned off.
I let my hands droop, my telekinetic barrier winking out. I sagged, the exhaustion in my body compounded by the brutal fight. I pressed the point of Oath into the stone, using the swept-hilt saber to support my burning limbs.
Jared hesitantly lowered his metal spellform, peering with his one good eye at the remains of our foe. The body slumped on the floor; all eight legs splayed out. The scorpion was missing large sections of its plate armor, clearly having sacrificed its carapace to hit us with those spines as a last resort. Underneath was a meaty, pinkish flesh that looked disturbingly like a crab’s.
A hole had been blown through the scorpion’s head, each hammer blow to the pommel having driven my dagger deeper and deeper into its cranium. Said dagger was embedded in the stone floor, having passed clean through the head.
My control over Jared’s hammer wavered as I slowly levitated it back toward him. It was splattered with a purplish goop that could only be scorpion’s brain matter.
“Sorry for taking it from you,” I said tiredly. “Had an idea.”
Darrin looked at the body with a wary expression, before using his wind spell to add a few more craters to the creature’s head. It didn’t move.
“I’m not touching that, kid,” Jared said, staring at the dripping hammer with obvious disgust. “I will not dig my hand into scorpion brains a second time!”
I turned toward him lethargically. “A second time?” I asked, feeling incredulous. The cut on my cheek burned, and a few shards peppered my chest. With the adrenaline wearing down, I was starting to feel those wounds more acutely.
Alandra sent a stream of fire at the corpse, clearly working off some pent-up frustration. She cackled as the meat sizzled and popped.
I hobbled over to the body, ripping Promise from the floor. It looked none the worse for wear, despite having been used like a wedge to drive a crack through an aether beast.
It was, unfortunately, also covered in purplish goop. I sighed. “Do you all usually have to deal with cleaning scorpion brains?”
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“This is only the second time,” Alandra said with complete seriousness, brushing her auburn hair out of her face and holding up her wand. “Here, I can burn it off!”
I watched with begrudging respect as Alandra expertly leveled flame over both Promise and Jared’s warhammer with a controlled burn. She managed to scour the excess purple substance while leaving the metal underneath relatively untouched.
I sent tired eyes toward the scorpion’s corpse as Alandra asked Jared if he’d ever break his habit of dipping his weapons in scorpion brains. As their familiar squabbling began again, I set myself near the portal, picking out the spines in my chest one by one. I was lucky that they hadn’t gone deep, avoiding cutting any major arteries or a lung. They bleed badly though, but a quick wrapping with bandages helped stem some of that flow.
The area around the portal was covered in a loose layer of sand, the coarse material more comfortable than sitting on plain stone. The small hill of sand raised the portal up higher than the floor, allowing me to get a better view of the room.
Darrin plopped himself down beside me, favoring me with a tired grin. He smiled a lot, something that wasn’t uncommon from the people I interacted with. But Darrin’s grins were far more genuine than Karsien’s, or even my own.
“How are you enjoying your preliminary ascent?” he asked, taking a peek at the bandages I wrapped around my chest. “You’ve got some of the preparations down-pat.”
There were some tears in my clothes where the spikes had pierced my body. I looked at them forlornly. “How often do all of you have to replace your clothes?” This was my nicest outfit, after all. I had been wearing a waistcoat and plain white shirt to look presentable at the ascender’s assessment but had since stashed the vest in my dimension ring to cope with the sweltering sun.
Darrin laughed aloud. “All the time, Toren! Nearly every single ascent we get something in our shirts that won’t come out no matter how much you try and wash it.”
Was bleach a thing in this world? Maybe I could invent some sort of cleaning agent. I was sick and tired of buying new clothes. “How difficult would you say this ascent has been so far?” I asked, peering at the corpse of the scorpion boss. Jared was picking at some of the carapace, stashing it in his dimension ring. “At least compared to most of your ascents.”
Seeing my interest, Darrin spoke up. “That armor was tough as a basilisk’s,” he said. “If we can get some of the remains to an artificer, it’ll sell for a decent price. Somebody could make some good armor out of that.” He paused. “This zone wasn’t the worst we’ve been in, but it's been more trying than most. You’re quite powerful, Toren,” he said, answering my question.
I exhaled. I was second-guessing the possible effects of my presence on this zone, but each word was another confirmation that I didn’t need to be so worried.
Alandra said something, making Jared scoff. I watched them interact from afar, a weary ache settling into my bones. “How long have you been a team?” I asked, wanting to know more about these ascenders.
Darrin tapped his chin. “Almost ten years now,” he said, a wistful note to his tone. “Most teams end up retiring after a while of delving into the Relictombs, or split up and form new groups. The Unblooded Party is a little bit different from the norm.”
I watched as Jared threw a chunk of purple scorpion goop at Alandra. She shrieked as it coated her dress, then launched at him. Jared, being a shield, was well adept at keeping the raging sentry at arm’s length.
“Do they ever get tired of that?” I asked.
“Nope,” Darrin said, drawing out the last syllable. “But they’re not nearly as antagonistic as you might think.”
I watched as Jared tripped backward on one of the scorpion’s prone legs, a clatter of metal ringing out as Alandra managed to kick him in the shin. “I have a hard time believing that,” I said.
Darrin snorted, running a hand through his blonde hair. “You’ll see, maybe.”
I sent a glance toward the shimmering purple portal. “When are we going to move on?” I asked.
The leader of the Unblooded party followed my gaze. “We’ll wait for a while more to rest and recover our strength in a relatively safe area before going through the portal. It's likely the next zone will have an exit portal, too.”
After a few more minutes of resting my legs, I began to use my telekinetic emblem to yank some of the spines of carapace from the ceiling where they’d impaled themselves, delivering tiny bundles of spines to Jared. The shield accepted them gratefully, adding them to our growing horde.
At Darrin’s direction, the shield raised a small barrier in front of the exit to the cavern. Now that the boss was dead, the beasts kept at bay by its presence might try and funnel down for the shade. Jared’s barrier might not hold for long, but it would give us time to get through the portal if there were too many beasts.
I ate from a small bottle of protein paste, wincing as the gelatinous mass slid down my throat.
There has to be a way to make these taste better, I thought, restraining the urge to gag. It was like a horrid Gogurt tube, but instead of yogurt, it was Jello’s estranged, meaty cousin.
The other ascenders seemed unphased by their horrid rations, something that clearly set me apart.
“So Toren,” Alandra asked as she merrily slurped down the paste, “Why do you want to be an ascender? Want to get rich? Maybe get a relic?” she inquired, raising a brow.
I pulled the empty tube of paste into my dimension ring, glad to have it out of my sight. “The Relictombs is one of the best training grounds in Alacrya,” I said automatically. “If I want to grow powerful, these ruins are the best place to sharpen myself. The whetstone to my blade.”
Jared shook his head. “These zones aren’t training grounds for you to get strong from,” he said chastisingly. “They’ll swallow you whole and keep the bones if you’re not careful. This place is a death trap, not a jaunt through the academies.”
I frowned, feeling taken aback. Though Jared was right, at least to some degree. “I know that,” I acknowledged. “But the best way to test yourself is when there is real danger. I can’t get as powerful as I need to be if I’m stuck in an academy.“
Jared didn’t look too convinced by my words.
“And why do you want power?” Alandra questioned, not looking at me. She seemed to be paying half attention to the conversation.
I furrowed my brows. “Well, I’m the last of my Blood,” I said slowly. “The rest of us were wiped out several decades ago. For a long time, it was only my brother and I. But we weren’t… we weren’t powerful enough.”
The implications of my words settled through the gathered ascenders. Alandra gave me a pitying look, contrasting with Darrin’s cool understanding.
I didn’t want pity.
“I’ve learned that if I want to have anything, I need to be powerful enough to keep it by strength of arm,” I said, saying the words as they formed in my mind. It was true. Rights weren’t a guarantee in Alacrya: you fought and bled for your position and power. If you let yourself slip, it all crashed down to the bottom. All the men and women in East Fiachra were condemned to that life because they couldn’t fight their way out. It was wrong: a barbaric, blunt sort of meritocracy. But just because I despised the system did not mean I was free of it.
Darrin brushed off his trousers as he stood up, glancing at the shimmering portal. “Well, we’d better prepare to leave here soon,” he said. “All of you, make sure your cores are at acceptable levels and that we haven’t left anything behind.”
I nodded, slowly pushing myself to my feet. Both Oath and Promise were strapped to my side, the weapons proving their worth with each battle. Alandra and Jared shuffled toward the portal after making sure their simulets were functioning correctly.
I moved up next to them, staring into the purple abyss of the portal. I couldn’t see what was beyond this barrier: apparently, some portals allowed you to see the other side, giving a glimpse of the next zone. Others only lent mystery, such as the one in front of us.
I felt a lot better about the next step, now.
As the three other ascenders began to situate their armor, however, I noticed something odd in the sand surrounding the portal. I frowned, seeing the way the light reflected off of something.
I walked over, kneeling down and brushing away the sand. It took a second, but the item that revealed itself to me made the breath catch in my throat.
It was a small can with familiar symbols on the front. It felt like aluminum, something that was uncommonly used in Alacrya for packaging. Bright orange and purple colors spelled out a message on the face of the can, a solid weight telling me it was full of liquid.
Dunkin’ Donuts Iced Coffee.
That was the only legible bit of text on the can. Except the text wasn’t in this world’s rendition of written English: it was that of my previous life. The other graphics appeared to be warped, the ink and images bleeding strangely across each other in a confused attempt to recreate a brand. The can felt real and solid, contrasting my inner panic.
How did this get here? I thought, spinning the can over, looking for… something. I didn’t know what. This shouldn’t be here. It’s wrong, I thought, my breathing beginning to pick up.
Alacrya didn’t have coffee, much less Dunkin’ Donuts. An unnerving possibility reared in my mind.
It seems I’ve found out my influence on the Relictombs.
I stared at the little can for what felt like an eternity, questions running rampant through my head. How was this here? Was this all that the tombs would make? What was the limit?
“Toren!” Darrin called from the portal. “We’re leaving!”
I started, blinking away my confusion. I hastily stashed the coffee can into my dimension ring, feeling frazzled. As I approached the portal, I realized that I didn’t know what the next zone would bring.