Toren Daen

“I hear you’re the new ascender on the block,” the stranger said as a greeting. “I remember my prelim. Did you run into any snags?” he asked, sending a knowing look toward the bandages around my chest.

I felt the fantom pinpricks of the carapace shards digging into my chest.

“I was expecting worse,” I replied honestly. “I got off light, in my opinion,” I said, tapping my chest.

The other man looked at me skeptically. “Most new ascenders hope not to be wounded at all on their prelims. It's a mark of pride if you make it out unscathed,” the man said, a bit confused.

I looked down at my golden cider. I could just barely sense mana in the liquid, no doubt due to the special brew. “That’s a bit foolish,” I said, speaking my thoughts. “If you make it out of those ruins unscathed, you clearly didn’t struggle enough.” How much could a person grow without adversity? Not much.

“That’s an interesting perspective,” the stranger said. “Most would rather have an easy ascent, reaping the rewards instead of seeking to grow stronger.”

I shrugged. “The Relictombs are a trial,” I replied. “One designed to test your limits in more ways than one.”

They were designed to bestow an insight into aether in each zone, hand-crafted by the reality-warping djinn to keep their knowledge alive. It had failed in that goal for millennia.

I wonder what kind of insight somebody could get from that horrible collage mimicking my old world? I wondered, staring at my drink. I felt tempted to take another sip, but I resisted the urge. What would the odds be that I could somehow gain insight into dimensional travel?

The stranger continued to look at me strangely. My mind, working at only sixty percent of its normal speed, realized something important. This so-called ascender hadn’t given his name.

“This man has asked only questions,” Lady Dawn said with suspicion. “Tread carefully. Your tongue may wag more than you wish.”

I’ve got it, I said to my bond.

“I don’t think I got your name, friend,” I said, gesturing my cup toward the white-haired man. “I’m sure you heard mine earlier. Toren Daen, ascender extraordinaire,” I said loftily.

That got a slight smirk from the man across from me. “Call me Nerves. I visit this bar sometimes when I get back from my ascents.”

That was a very obvious alias. What mother would name their child Nerves? Sounded like a recipe for anxiety disorder.

“So you’re an ascender, too, Nerves?” I asked, feeling my buzz beginning to drift away now that I’d stopped drinking. A mage’s metabolism worked fast, and my partly assimilated body boosted that even higher. “How long have you been at it?”

“I have been delving for several years,” Nerves replied, sparing a glance toward my unemptied mug. “Though my own prelim was quite the experience. The Relictombs is a strange place, unpredictable despite our Sovereigns’ efforts.”

I tilted my head. “I think the Sovereigns have made a decent bit of progress on conquering these ruins,” I said, thinking of these first and second layers. An entire civilization acted on just these two levels, self-sustainable through resources cultivated here. “The death toll has gone down significantly with the introduction of simulets, and the fact that I can have a drink here speaks to how civilized it is.”

Nerves leaned toward me slightly. The hustle and bustle of the tavern seemed to fall away as he focused on me with sharp intensity. “That’s true,” he acknowledged. “But as you said, the Relictombs are a trial. But do you think anybody has completed the trial?”

I opened my mouth to respond, thinking of Arthur. Then I closed it slowly, my slight buzz evaporating entirely as I forced mana from my core across my body. It cleared my mind significantly.

The stare I gave Nerves was just as focused as the one he gave me. It sounded as if the man had more insight into the Relictombs and an inkling of their true purpose. But as far as I knew, the Alacryans with a measure of that understanding were few and far between. I could be misinterpreting his language.

From an Alacryan standpoint, one could ‘complete the trial’ by returning with a relic or gathering enough accolades to elevate your Blood. Victory could be proven through the arduous trek across the pocket dimensions.

But there was a weight to the way Nerves said trial. His teal eyes were watching my own, and he seemed to recognize the moment my pupils banished the haze of my buzz.

Our interaction suddenly felt a lot tenser.

“He has been fishing for information,” Lady Dawn concluded. “For what, I cannot say. Watch yourself, Contractor.”

“I’m afraid my prelim was pretty standard,” I said carefully. “I got a few accolades, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. Once I’ve reclaimed my Blood’s past standing, I would say I’d have completed the trial.”

The white-haired ascender opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Alandra pulling herself up between us, her auburn hair in a bit of disarray. From her wavering steps, I could tell she was far gone.

She looked Nerves up and down. “You are almost my type,” she declared with slightly slurred speech. “What were ya talking about with Toren?”

I felt my heart rate pick up at this unexpected interruption. I had to get her away somehow, lest she reveal something. “Nerves here is a long-time ascender. He was just asking about my thoughts on the Relictombs,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Nerves’ eyes flicked to me, then back to Alandra, who was doing a very poor job of trying to look flirtatious at the bar table. The ascender across from her looked entirely unaffected by the drunk woman’s advances.

“Well, I asked about that and how his first ascent went,” the white-haired ascender said, his tone changing subtly. “Our prelims are always some of the most memorable ascents in our career. Do you think Toren here will remember his?”

Alandra’s eyes lit up slightly. “Oh, yeah he will! He nailed a scorpion to the floor. I’ve always wanted to do that after I got the last one’s head all over my robes.”

Nerves raised a confused brow at the disoriented woman, but before I could intervene, she plowed forward. “But that’s nothing compared to the second zone. It was weird! With a road, and buildings, with the portals right there…”

She moved her hand to Nerves’ shoulder, moving it lower not-so-subtly.

I took Alandra by the wrist, taking it away from where she was about to go a bit too low. She cut off, saying a stuttered, “Huh?” in response to my interruption.

“I’m afraid my party member has had a bit too much to drink, Nerves,” I said, gently pulling Alandra toward where I spotted the rest of our party. “Maybe we can continue this conversation another time?”

I didn’t give him an opportunity to reply, nodding and guiding Alandra by the shoulder toward where Jared sat. The one-eyed ascender’s gaze focused on me, a clarity there despite his empty tankard nearby. The man was able to hold his liquor far better than I.

“Alandra was about to feel up a stranger at the bar,” I said in a clipped tone. “I think she’s had a bit too much to drink.”

The woman in question was staring with wide eyes at Jared’s eyepatch. “Wow, Jared, when did you lose your eye?” She reached a hand toward the eyepatch, running her hand over it.

The poor shield looked utterly unprepared to deal with this situation, but I didn’t really care. As long as Alandra was kept away from Nerves.

Jared set his mug down and pushed it away.“Yeah, uh… That cider was meant for mages with body strengthening to withstand the effects,” he said, brushing Alandra’s hand away from his head with a surprisingly gentle movement. His single eye watched the tipsy sentry with a notable level of concern, something that heavily contrasted their usual spats. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Thanks, Toren.”

I nodded, sparing a glance back toward the bar. Nerves was still watching me keenly.

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That could have been worse, I thought as I turned away, spotting Karsien and Hofal chatting alone in the far corner booth. I slowly began to move toward them, weaving around drunk patrons and spills on the floor.

“You will have to watch for this Nerves later. Perhaps he suspects you carry a relic of some sort.”

I shook my head imperceptibly. No, there’s no reason to think that. And if he did, that’s easily disproven. I don’t like the fact that others know about that last zone, but it’s going to get out in some way or another. Once we left the zone, it was only a matter of time before one of the Unblooded told the story to somebody. I moved forward to catch a patron as he stumbled, helping him right himself before moving on. He favored me with a barely lucid thumbs up. I just hoped it would be some time before it got out. And it's unlikely to actually raise much suspicion. The Relictombs are strange.

“Perhaps, Contractor, perhaps. But I cannot help but feel there is something more to this.”

At Lady Dawn’s words, I thought about Mardeth for the first time in a while. The powerful vritra-blooded Vicar was directly opposed to me for some reason, likely for the destruction of the Joans. I hadn’t had time to think through all the implications of that, but I desperately hoped they hadn’t managed to watch me this closely.

Powerful backers indeed, I thought, remembering my tail’s words for the second time. I suspected they had been sent by Bloodstone Elixirs to shadow me. Considering my blades had once held a tracking spell, the company clearly had an interest in me.

Putting the past conversation out of my mind for a moment, I finally reached Hofal and Darrin’s table. They were talking lowly about something but perked up on my approach.

“Ah, Toren!” Darrin said. “The man of the hour! I was just telling my old friend here about your preliminary ascent. I’m sure it will make good conversation for your friends back in Fiachra.”

“It will,” I said with a chuckle, sliding into the seat against the wall. I was feeling drained again, the alcohol siphoning much of my tension and leaving exhaustion in its place. I hadn’t slept since killing the scorpion boss in the Relictombs. “Though I think I want to hear the story of how this was actually the second time you got scorpion brain matter all over your stuff.”

Darrin chuckled, his eyes darting to Hofal with a mischievous light. The shield groaned. “Aye, I remember that ascent. Right hell, that one was. It took ages to get the smell out of my boots. It's why I finally made the boot-cleaning artifact we use.”

“Yeah, well I’ll have to tell the new ascender how it happened,” Darrin said. “So, it all began around four years ago…”

I listened intently to Darrin’s story for as long as I could, snickering at parts and leaning closer whenever the story grew intense. The striker was a natural storyteller, keeping the right inflections and pauses almost instinctively, stringing me along as he told the story. But after a while, I felt my attention begin to drift away. I had to repeatedly pull myself back to the present, even near the climax of Darrin’s epic tale.

The ascender seemed to notice my exhaustion and slowly shifted his attention, calling for the barkeeper and saying something about a room. It went in one ear and out the other.

I had done so, so much today.

The sound of the tavern seemed to dull as I laid my head back against the wall, closing my eyes as I thought. The last thing I remembered seeing was Nerves’ back as he made his way for the door, leaving the tavern like an elusive shadow.

Sevren Denoir

I stepped out into the open semi-sky, summoning my teal cloak from my dimension ring. It settled neatly onto my shoulders, the warm inner fur lining seeming to ward off an imaginary chill.

I suppressed my presence and began to steer toward my parents’ Relictombs Estate. I hated being there long and only stopped by to talk with Caera when I got the chance.

My mind was running through questions and possibilities in neat succession as I considered the conversation I’d had with the young Toren Daen. I’d been in the Shimmerken’s Hoard after my most recent ascent, the relatively out-of-the-way tavern a common resting spot for me. They had fair prices for their alcohol and warm beds that wouldn’t charge an arm and a leg.

I could afford to pay for any of the accommodations in the Relictombs, but it was the principle of the matter. The innkeeper was honest, and that was a rare quality.

Toren Daen looked like any run-of-the-mill wogart fresh off his prelim. I wouldn’t have even paid him a scrap of attention if it weren’t for a certain reaction he caused with one of my recently created rune devices.

I pulled out the aforementioned device. It looked like a gold pocket watch, carefully etched with the symbol of Highblood Denoir. When I flipped open the lid, a compass revealed itself to me instead. Underneath the hood of this little device, I had spent countless hours inscribing runes into the metal, trying to get them to hold. Only with my most recently acquired subject was I able to finally crack the code on one of the most important pieces toward my goals.

A point on the compass glowed a dim purple. I turned, facing back toward the Shimmerken’s Hoard. Sure enough, the purple dot stayed stationary relative to the Hoard. When I walked back for several meters, the point glowed even brighter.

This little tracker could detect aether. It was imprecise and imperfect, but I expected to improve my design. One of the first things I learned when the little aether tracker was completed was that every person held trace amounts of aether in their body.

But this Toren Daen held far, far more aether than the average man. Normally I had to hold the compass up to a person’s breast to even get a note of their aether signature, yet when I’d mistakenly opened my compass, Toren Daen had blazed on it like a star.

My first assumption was that the boy had somehow smuggled out a relic, or perhaps had an old heirloom that affected aether somewhat.

In my time researching the Relictombs, I’d noticed a startling pattern of disappearances in the ruins. Those who entered the Relictombs carrying dead relics almost never returned, and when they did, they had fascinating stories to tell.

It was with a bit of trepidation that I approached the newly dubbed ascender at his bar seat. And after just a minute of conversation, it was quickly apparent that the young man knew far more than he let on.

I entered the estate’s area. I could feel the sudden eyes of a dozen different hidden guards across nearby estates focus on me. I restrained the urge to tense, sending my gaze about in a panic.

It was difficult not to act like that after what I’d done, but as the weeks went by without being hauled to the dungeons, I realized I was likely in the clear. If I was caught, though, I knew that not even my status as a highblood heir would spare me execution. My family would be stripped of their position, and everyone close butchered for my actions.

I let all of these thoughts out with an exhale, then began walking again. All for Caera, I repeated to myself like a mantra. So that she may never know the cruel world she lives in.

If I could understand the Relictombs, the High Sovereign wouldn’t have need of my sister. She would be free.

And from how Toren Daen reacted to my probing, I was certain there was more to his story than met the eye. His strange reaction to my questions and the forward mage’s words...

Buildings, roads, and a nearby portal? Relics were most often found in zones that had broken down architecture. But if their party had found a relic, they would not be in a pub. They would be meeting with a Scythe personally to deliver it shortly after exiting the tombs.

But what if they did find a relic? I wondered. It would seem Toren may have kept it from his party members, unaware such a thing could be sensed. It would be difficult to get it past an inquirer, but not impossible. But for what purpose? Greed?

Toren didn’t seem like a greedy man to me. But in this world, there was no such thing as complete honesty. Everybody held their damning secrets, lying to those around them and hurting others.

Even me.

But if Toren was not holding a relic because of greed, I wondered, my mind thrumming with the implications, Why would he keep it to himself?

As I finally reached the gates of my parents’ Relictombs estate, I felt my mood fall as I saw Mother in the outer courtyard, chatting with some representative from another Blood before they were sent on their way.

The woman was laughing at something my mother said. To me, it seemed a forced thing. She gasped, ooohed, and aahed at all the right movements. She agreed when she needed to, and offered counterpoint when it was socially expected.

Like a pet.

I sighed internally. I despised this place.

I entered through the gates, drawing the attention of my mother and her guest. “Ah, Sevren! It is good to see you, son. It has been too long since you visited this estate,” she said.

You shouldn’t avoid us, those words said. It does our image wrong.

A perfect, reflective smile was stitched onto her face. The woman was so good at that fake smile even I sometimes believed it to be real. But the only thing I’d inherited from my mother was her white hair.

“Hello, Mother,” I said, my voice short. “I won’t be here long.”

Mother took my brusqueness in stride, gesturing to her guest. They were a woman, perhaps in their early thirties with elaborate makeup and impeccable nails. “That’s fine, dear,” Mother lied. “I was just saying goodbye to Jalia of Highblood Koav. She is an important member of their main branch and has always admired ascenders. Perhaps you could tell her a story before she departs?”

The guest, Jalia Koav, nodded serenely, inspecting me with sparkling eyes.

I saw through this ruse immediately. It was a thinly veiled attempt at pushing me toward the woman, no doubt in the hopes that a betrothal would be secured.

My armor of being an ascender was beginning to wear thin. It had warded off suitors for years, but no longer. I’d lived for too long. The uncertainty of my survival was wearing through.

“The Relictombs are a trial,” I said, staring through this woman’s mask of makeup and poise. I could see it in how she hung on my mother’s every word, chasing her approval and good graces. She looked pretty and spoke pretty, but underneath those facades was mud. Like too many, she was sharp like broken glass instead of steel. Of course, my mother saw it, too. But that was what the woman wanted in her inner circle. “It will try everything it can to break you over its knee, leaving you in a dozen pieces. The best of us put ourselves back together, forged stronger for the trial.”

I walked past the two women, ignoring Jalia Koav’s fearful step backward and my mother’s disapproving stare. “And if you don’t put all the pieces back?” I paused. “It is called a tomb for a reason.”

I entered the estate, leaving my mother and her tittering lapdog behind.

All for Caera, I thought to myself. All for my sister.