Toren Daen

I used the downtime I had to grow more accustomed to the Will. I didn’t mesh with it as I had before: instead, I inspected it with my mind, seeing the metaphysical divots, dips, and crests in the runes etched into the outer layer of my core.

Keeping my metaphorical eye trained on the runes made my mind burn after too long. I had to look away, or else my brain would be seared by the pressure it exuded.

“You must be patient with this power,” Lady Dawn chided as I lurched away from my corespace, having been staring for too long. “Your mind is not accustomed to the strain. You must learn to accept the Will in a gradual melding.”

“It’s a tricky process,” I said. I had taken to speaking out loud in this zone instead of using mental communication. The utter silence of the forest unnerved me. Lady Dawn, thankfully, allowed me this simple act, even though she normally insisted on talking through our bond. “It’s difficult to keep myself separate when I grow closer to it. It’s like… a magnet, being drawn to my mind as I grow closer.”

The asura glided over the mud, her dress not picking up a speck of dirt. I, however, was absolutely covered in grime. “You will learn in time. The Will’s purpose is to pass down its insight. To grant the next generation its vast wealth of knowledge. So it seeks a mind with which to meld.”

The forest hadn’t changed since the end of my pitched battle several hours ago. I spotted a few tall spires dotting the forest as I continued on, however. Those were the only islands amidst the sea of white trees.

I looked up at the sky once more. The clouds had begun to build again, but the cover was far from where it had been when the storm struck. I was starting to get a picture of how this zone operated: as water evaporated into the atmosphere, it created clouds. Once those clouds grew dense enough, a storm was triggered, which would send water cascading down to the forest below.

And the trees would greedily devour the water, lapping at it like a beast. And as the water suffused their roots, their fruits would drop, sending tree demons to propagate the cycle more.

I turned my focus inward once more. One of the things I knew I needed to be careful about was my latent Vritra heritage. When I got too close to the Will, I began to feel it stirring, scales and wings shifting against the confines of my mind. It was dormant, but the light was its anathema. Whenever it felt like I had prodded the beast too much, I would back off quickly, allowing it to fall back into slumber.

“Your Vritra heritage clashes with the fire of my Will,” the asura said, sensing my thoughts. “We will have to find a way to suppress this alteration. Or perhaps purge it entirely, if that is possible.”

I frowned. “Couldn’t there be a way to have these two work together?” I asked. The powers one could get from Vritra heritage were diverse and powerful. “It’s another avenue of power, after all.”

“Do not let yourself be tempted by the beast within you,” my bond said with a hint of venom. “The basilisks and phoenix races are as opposed as one can be. There is no harmony between us. No unity. They are snakes that slither on the ground, sprouting false wings to try and take the skies. But the skies are the domain of the phoenix, and for this, we will never relent. The basilisks decay and destroy with every touch, while our arts build something from nothing.” The phoenix shook her head. “No, the beast within you is a poison. It will slowly kill you once you start to utilize the Will unless something is done.”

I looked down at my sternum. I could feel my core there, shining with internal light. I didn’t want to agree with my bond. The condemnation was so final. “Is there something that can be done?” I asked. “To suppress my Vritra blood?”

The asura’s eyes seemed to dim as she looked at me from over her shoulder. “There may be.”

—

The storm clouds began to gather again after another day of walking. This time I didn’t wait for the rain to fall. I bolted for a spire I saw looming in the distance, running for all I was worth.

The horde was worse this time. It seemed impossible, but I was certain there were more tree demons this time. The spire I was on was also shorter, making it easier for the monsters to pile atop each other to reach me.

But I also had experience facing these creatures. Amidst the pouring rain, I knew what would work to kill them more efficiently. Instead of always going for killing blows, I focused on wide-area attacks that disrupted the grips and hold of my foes. I was able to cling to walls like a discount Spiderman, or perhaps a budget-bin Naruto, but the wooden monsters had no such advantages.

I ended the night with a jagged cut on my thigh and a slightly sprained left wrist from where one of the beasts had wrenched my hand to the side. My abdomen still hurt, but not as badly as before.

I cinched the wrapping around my thigh, gritting my teeth as I cut the extra cloth. Damn, I thought, testing my weight on the leg. The pain wasn’t the worst I experienced. I’d be able to run if I absolutely needed to.

I was leaning against the stone tower that had kept me alive, surveying the landscape. It was much the same once again: after the original trees had withered, the demons left behind settled their roots and became the next generation.

I was certain that despite my experience of facing the wave a second time I would eventually be overwhelmed by these creatures. All it would take was one slip on the rock for me to tumble into the white sea, where I would be devoured alive.

Then my eyes caught on a shine in the mud. I frowned, walking toward the sparkle. A bit of sharp pain shot through my leg every time I put weight on it, but I forcefully dismissed the sensation.

I knelt down in the mud, wiping away the grime from the sparkling object. When I finally identified it, I recoiled in shock.

It was a gun. I didn’t know much about firearms, but I recognized it as something approaching a Glock. It was clearly a semiautomatic pistol of some sort, but it looked strange in places. The grip was a bit too elongated, and the barrel too short. I thought the trigger might’ve been placed farther away from the grip than was necessary.

I gingerly knelt down, picking up the instrument. There was no magazine loaded, and when I pointed the gun back the way I came and pulled the trigger, I knew there was no bullet chambered.

I looked at the chromic material. I was certain it was designed to mimic the guns of my previous life, especially considering my discovery of the coffee can in the desert zone.

But what did it mean? Were the Relictombs trying to create things from my previous life? Was it a kind of call to me? Or were these items taken directly from a parallel dimension of some sort?

“This appears to have deeply unsettled you,” Lady Dawn said as I stared at the weapon in my hands. “But I do not understand why.”

“This looks like a mimicry of one of the weapons of my previous life,” I said after a moment, still staring at the gun. It had a sort of pristine elegance, but that was offset by the slightly disproportionate features.

Like somebody had tried to sculpt a handgun from memory.

“You could point this at something,” I said, settling my stance and aiming at one of the trees, “And pull the trigger. A tiny projectile of metal would fire from this a couple of times faster than the speed of sound, ripping apart anything it hit. Like a crossbow, but far smaller and infinitely more deadly. And these didn’t have to reload like a crossbow. We had weapons that could fire hundreds of these metal bullets per minute.”

The phoenix tilted her head, inspecting the weapon critically. “And you say your old world did not have a form of energy to manipulate?”

I sighed, storing the pseudo-gun in my dimension ring. Would I find more of these strange creations? What did it mean? “We did not. Our warfare was dominated by fighting from afar, gunning faceless enemies down.”

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The asura raised her own arm, inspecting it with an inscrutable look.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, desperate for something to sidetrack my mind.

“I contemplate the differences between civilizations across dimensions, Contractor. I wonder how the djinn managed their peaceful society for so long,” she replied solemnly.

In my previous world, I thought the djinni society was an impossibility. How could an entire civilization be peaceful for over five millennia? When human nature was so wrapped up in innate tribalism and pitting one against the other, how did they maintain such pacifism?

But the djinn weren’t just a nice little bit of worldbuilding by TurtleMe. They had truly existed, flourishing with their aether arts and improving the lives of all. When the hours grew long, I asked myself how an entire people could maintain such peace.

I suppose it was impossible, though, I thought a bit cynically. They were destroyed nearly to a man in the greatest genocide I’ve ever heard of. All because of a jealous warlord.

How ironic was it that I understood Kezess Indrath’s psyche better than the mortals he genocided?

“Maybe one day you’ll get your answer,” I said a bit quietly. Then I turned toward the path, determined to start anew.

I didn’t walk anymore. Before, I had moved slowly to conserve my energy. Now I ran, using bursts of light telekinesis to propel me onward. My leg seared with every impact, but I couldn’t afford to take things slow anymore. I might survive the next wave of tree demons. I might even conquer the one after that. But I would eventually be overwhelmed.

The white trees blurred by as I kept a steady yet hurried pace forward. I hadn’t noticed it when I was keeping a more leisurely pace, but now that I was sprinting, I noticed that the path had a slight upward incline. I was gradually ascending a hill of some sort. The only question, then, was what was at the top of the hill.

The trees seemed to glare at me as I moved, their malice palpable even in their immobile forms. I kept an eye on the sky, wary of gathering storm clouds. I thought the sky was darkening even faster than before, but it may have just been my paranoia.

And finally, I crested the edge. I slowed as I saw the path ahead leveling out, coming to an end. The trees became more sparse as I finally reached the top until there was an entirely blank spot of earth.

Stone blocks surrounded the end of the path, creating an almost ritualistic pattern. I spotted the exit portal, shimmering an inviting purple in the darkness. But my attention was immediately drawn to something at the center of the stone circle.

A giant fruit was planted in the ground, bulbous and red as crimson. It was easily as tall as I, something that gave me pause. The color shifted and moved like something was pressing against the inside, causing the skin of the fruit to stretch in strange ways. It looked like worms trying to burst from the inside, which made my stomach queasy just from watching.

Before I could dart for the portal, something finally broke through the skin of the fruit. A pale white arm thrust outward, dripping in reddish sap as it ripped open its prison. Bit by bit, the creature clawed its way out of the enormous fruit, snarling all the way. The sound reminded me of the thunder that had sounded not so long ago.

And then the thing was free. It looked somewhat like the tree demons, except it was easily five times their height. Its arms were corded with wooden muscle as they hung down to its ankles, and the demon’s elongated, sharp jaw twitched erratically. Four sap-red eyes stared from the front of its misshapen skull.

And it slowly turned to look at me, centered in the middle of the piled stones like some sort of god called by a ritual. The beast stood between me and the shimmering purple portal. It had a sort of slouched posture, leaning on its rigid arms.

I drew Oath as the beast screamed, making all the trees around me rustle in an invisible breeze. It rushed me with a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible with such misshapen limbs, swinging its gangly arm at me in a clawed uppercut.

I barely brought Oath between the attack, the red-layered metal creaking as I was launched into the air. The blow traveled all the way up my arm, making my shoulder ache from the effort.

I quickly drew Promise with my sprained hand, the movements of my fingers twitchy and awkward as I tossed the dagger straight at the beast below me. It responded by swatting the steel out of the air, then it screamed once more at me.

Except this time, a barrage of white splinters streamed from its maw. I hastily thrust out my hand, sending out a guttering barrage of fire to intercept the attack. They collided midair as I began to fall back down, flame burning the wood to ash.

But the beast had a cunning to it. As I fell toward the earth once more, it began to line up a punch toward where I would land. One of its arms twisted inward, its fingers elongating and sharpening as the entire arm became a blade.

It swung at me at the perfect time. But what it didn’t expect was my telekinetic pushes and pulls, allowing me to reorient just before the blow would land. The sword-like arm sheared a few locks of hair from my head as it passed right in front of my eyes.

Exhaling lightly, I immediately countered, Oath burning with fire mana. I brought it in an upward cut, aiming at the overextended wooden arm.

My blade sunk several inches into the white wood, spraying reddish sap. The beast screeched in pain, something I relished. It wrenched its arm back, though, and hauled me with it.

I tried to yank my weapon free, but it was lodged deeply into the wood. I saw something flashing toward me in my peripheral vision, and I had to let go of my blade. I brought my arms in a cross in front of my face right before impact.

My telekinetic shroud shattered around my forearms, blowing me backward. My body clipped one of the stones surrounding the beast, sending me into a tumble in the dirt. I quickly began to adjust my balance on instinct, getting my feet under me before I was done skidding over the ground.

Promise returned to my grip, my telekinesis rune drawing it toward me. Back to the basics, then? I thought with gritted teeth. The bones of my arm ached from that single blow, and if I was using only a mana shroud, I was sure they’d be broken beyond repair. A splotch of purple was spreading around the spot I’d been hit, a deep bruise soaking into the flesh.

The demon threw back its arms, howling its defiance at me. Oath was still lodged in its arm, but it didn’t seem to care as it came barreling toward me.

I used a telekinetic pull on one of the tall ritual stones, rocketing me toward the creature. I engaged my telekinesis to dip under its attack like the wind, swinging my dagger against its side as I shot past. It screeched in pain, but I wasn’t done.

I pulled on one of the tall, flat stones, then twisted midair so my feet impacted it. I shot off the rock with a boom, zipping toward the creature, which was turning toward me. Its arm shifted again, becoming a large shield to block my path.

I smirked. This creature was fast; faster than I had expected. But I was still faster and far more agile. I pushed against the ground in a flare of white telekinesis, vaulting over the beast and blasting a handful of fireshot down at its head as I flipped over its body. The creature tried to bring its shield arm in front of its face but was only partially successful. Unrelenting, I landed on the ground, the giant tree demon stumbling from the shot to its twisted maw. It was twice as tall as I was when it straightened its back, but right now it looked just as confused as any animal.

With barely another second to calculate, I launched myself back at the creature. I skidded underneath its legs, drawing Promise across its ankles with a roar. The beast fell to its knees, putting the handle of Oath–whose edge still kissed the demon’s flesh–right in front of me.

Using the momentum from sliding through the monster’s legs, I yanked on the handle of my saber. It ripped free with a spray of reddish sap and a howl of pain. Unwilling to let the opening close, I focused mana into both of my weapons, a thrumming red edge accompanying the usual sharpness.

In one fluid motion, I crossed the blades in front of me and then swung them in opposite directions. They scissored through the already damaged arm, my blades scything through wood better than an axe ever could. The severed arm fell into the mud with a wet plop, the gnarly wooden limb finally gone.

The beast screeched, flailing wildly as I cut off its arm. I danced backward, clenching and unclenching my left hand. The wrist was still sprained, even with my accelerated healing. The move I’d just pulled off had exacerbated the damage.

But the demon boss wasn’t done yet. It huddled in on itself, layers and layers of bleached wood erupting around it like a cocoon. I stared at the small construction, confused. It looked almost like the bud of a flower, except it was over ten feet tall.

Then I snarled. I wasn’t going to let that thing hide. I let go of Promise, letting it float in the air beside me. Then I focused on Oath, running my left hand over the blade. I concentrated fire and sound mana so that the blade vibrated and burned all at once. Then I readied my stance, preparing to charge at the makeshift bunker the creature had created for itself.

The option was taken from me when the cocoon exploded, kicking up mud and making the ground tremble. White shards of wood shot toward me like shrapnel. I hastily let my spells fade from my cutting edge, instead bringing up my left hand and pushing out with a barrier of telekinesis.

Most of the shards that reached my pushing white barrier were diverted away from me, arcing into the sky or cutting into the dirt. A few weren’t changed enough, but Promise flew from its perch near my shoulder to intercept and cut through most of those. Only a few actually cracked against my telekinetic shroud.

I made it through the barrage unscathed, but I was panting slightly from the mental exertion. When I looked at where the cocoon used to be, I swallowed heavily. The creature had undergone a metamorphosis in that cocoon. It had white, batlike wings stretching from its back. Red sap dripped from the sharp tips of the wings, evidence of how they had burst from the wooden flesh.

The demon seemed to have gained a foot or two of height, but the biggest change was in the beast’s veins. I could now see faint, shimmering red glowing through the wooden exterior of the demon. I felt a wave of pressure from it that made me take a step backward. Its arm had regrown, a deeper gray instead of the pristine off-white of the rest of its body.

The demon’s four beady red eyes glared at me with uncontested hatred.

In the clouds far above, a thunderstorm began to condense.