Toren Daen

I was helping the Twinfrost party navigate the city, gradually snaking our way to the meeting point.

Our going was slow. None of the Twinfrost members were particularly mobile like Sevren and I were, leaving us to help them along. Instead of bounding from rooftop to rooftop, we ended up smashing our way through windows and walking through empty office spaces to the other side, then repeating the action.

I used a combination of my telekinesis to help the mages along, just as I had done with Darrin. It had been an exhausting ordeal to convince the Frost twins to let me carry them from building to building.

I jumped from one of the rooftops, pulling on a nearby ledge. Simultaneously, I latched onto Alun with my telekinesis rune. Then I pulled, drawing us both to the next building.

I landed far more gracefully than the striker, who stumbled to his knees after me. He still looked far thinner than was healthy, but his hair wasn’t nearly as reedy after a good bath. Already used to this routine, I turned around and jumped back to the previous building, repeating the process with Jana instead.

I thought some color had returned to her cheeks since she began changing her bandages, but that might have just been wishful thinking.

I had to repeat this two more times for the twins while Sevren watched on with amusement.

This exercise was what truly instilled in me the difficulty every other mage would have with this zone. I could freerun through the entire concrete jungle as if it were second nature, using my telekinetic abilities and physical enhancement to keep out of sight and range of all the undead down below. In fact, the Clarwood Forest provided more parkour challenges for me in the form of jutting branches and scraping underbrush.

But most ascenders didn’t have the luxury of my versatile abilities. Furthermore, I had the distinct advantage of being a solo ascender: I didn’t enter this zone worrying about the well-being of a team. I didn’t need to fight to get them to safety, or handicap my own speed to assist them in their escape from the hordes.

But things were different for regular ascension teams. Strikers and shields might be able to leap between the rooftops with superhuman strength, but it would be exceedingly difficult to always do so while carrying their sentries and casters. In any other zone, the Alacryan strike team layout was perfect for small unit tactics.

But in a zone where the only way to survive was to run? The slower ones got eaten. Which was what I surmised had happened to the Twinfrost’s sentry.

Once the twins were reluctantly deposited in the next building, we began to slowly move toward the other side, following empty hallways and derelict passages.

We had to be more careful here. More than once had I spotted a few undead roaming these skyscrapers, even so far up. They were rare, but even one could alert any others in earshot.

So I kept my sound barrier up. I took the lead in exploring the buildings, as my enhanced sense of hearing allowed me to be a good lookout.

I turned to the side as Sevren sidled up, peeking around a corner as we checked for the undead.

“I asked Alun about what he knew of the other team,” he said quietly. “He claimed that he only saw them once when they had just entered the zone, but didn’t get the chance to interact before they were forced to escape.”

I followed the intent of Sevren’s words easily enough. “You think he’s telling the truth?” I said, covertly glancing at the mage trailing behind me. Alun seemed to wither under the sunlight, that paranoid, almost animalistic side of him coming to life. The moment we ducked under a rooftop, however? More of himself emerged, though it was tired and haunted. “He didn’t strike me as a liar.”

“I thought he was being truthful,” the white-haired striker said. “Though that doesn’t exclude one of the Twinfrost members keeping secrets.”

The implication was clear. Sevren thought the Frost twins might have attacked the Aensgar Exiles. I thought of their willingness to try and take our food at first interaction, simply because they had starved.

Yet, as strange as it may have seemed, I did not view that as a complete and utter condemnation of their character. I’d seen what hunger could do to people in East Fiachra. It turned civilized men into beasts, the lack of sustenance consuming all rational thought in the place of food.

Could I judge a person thoroughly when I’d only seen them at their lowest?

But did that mean the twins would assault somebody they didn’t know had food or not? Theoretically, they hadn’t been starving when the Exiles had been supposedly attacked.

My doubts festered. Bered and Numar, while infuriating and stuck up, struck me as posturers keeping up a thin facade of power rather than truly malevolent people. They were children playing at what the men in their lives displayed.

“We can’t dismiss the possibility,” I said after a long pause. “But we’ll have to figure it out soon. We’re almost there.”

Sevren appraised me with a raised brow. “So it’s ‘we’ now?” he said, sarcasm lacing his voice.

I rolled my eyes as I reached a window. It overlooked our destination perfectly.

“I’m going to throw you out this window now,” I said nonchalantly.

“Wait, wha–”

I used a strong telekinetic push on Sevren, the flash of white knocking him through the window and shattering glass. The utter look of betrayal on his face as he fell made me laugh out loud.

Alun, however, cried out in shock. “Vritra’s horns!” he cursed, running over to the window in a panic. He got a good view of the Denoir heir easily readjusting midfall, using his dagger and wire as a grappling line to reel himself toward the rooftop of our destination.

I could just make out the Denoir heir sending a very rude gesture up toward me. I returned it, a smirk on my face.

“You’re insane,” Alun said, looking at me with shock on his face.

“Maybe a little,” I acknowledged. Who could remain sane after being reincarnated into a world he thought to be fiction? Sometimes I still wondered if I was in a strange fever dream, these past few months a figment of a maddened mind.

But then I remembered Norgan, and my resolve redoubled.

“Ready to go down there?” I asked, giving the man a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

He gulped.

—

The meeting place was a lot less ostentatious than the highrise penthouses and CEO offices I’d come to expect.

The setup was on top of a highrise pavilion, granting access to the open sky. It looked like it had once been a nice picnic setting. I could imagine myself eating a sandwich and drinking coffee here, watching the foot traffic down below. It would’ve been a wonderful start to the day.

But we had to wait another half hour or so for Darrin and the rest of the Unblooded Party to show up, the Aensgar Exiles in tow. I got a good look at the ragged team: two shields and a caster. The leader of the group, a large man I knew was named Hraedel, looked at the gathered Twinfrosts with undisguised suspicion.

The pavilion was large and open, providing plenty of space for everyone. At a glance, there were thirteen of us in total, all arrayed in an approximation of a circle.

“So you’re the one who orchestrated this?” Alun asked Darrin, a hint of recognition on his face. “Darrin Ordin of the Unblooded Party?”

Darrin stepped forward. “Not just me,” he said. “I’ve had the assistance of the rest of my team, along with Toren Daen and Lord Denoir.”

The eyes of the Aensgar Exiles turned to Sevren, his name holding far more weight than my own. I saw something familiar there: a desire for hope. They were people stuck at the bottom of an endless pit, finally seeing a pinprick of light at the top.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I’ve heard of the… spats you’ve had with Highblood Patamoor,” Alun said. “You made yourself infamous in noble circles.”

Darrin scratched the back of his head, sighing slightly. “People usually remember me for that nowadays, yes,” he said. “But that's beside the point. We all want out of this zone, and our chances increase exponentially if we work together to do it.”

That got the attention of everyone present. “The majority of undead around here,” Darrin said, undeterred by the attention, “Operate by sound. Even the slightest noise could set a single one off. And then that would spread to the rest of them, igniting their bloodlust. This makes avoiding them nigh impossible. Or, it was nigh impossible.”

I took a step forward, as Darrin and I had discussed before this meeting began. I brought my foot up, then brought my heel down on the concrete. The stone shattered, but no sound accompanied it.

“My name is Toren of Named Blood Daen,” I said loudly, addressing the crowd. “I have a rune that allows me to create invisible pockets of mana that nullify noise. Using this, I can help us make it to the descension portal.”

That got a frown from Hraedel. “You say you know where the exit portal is,” he said slowly, looking between me and Darrin. “But you haven’t proven it yet.”

I stepped back, letting Alandra take the stage. Darrin had expected these kinds of questions and had been ready to answer one and all. Alandra held a palm up, conjuring a mini-map of fluorescent fire. A dozen-plus-one dots blazed a brighter light, while one overpowering speck hovered in the far distance.

“Each of these dots represents a significant mana signature,” she said. “The large one at the end? That’s the exit portal.”

“Now that you all know where the portal is, you could all feasibly just leave this meeting now,” Darrin said, taking the lead once more. The blonde striker shook his head. “But it's not that simple.” He looked meaningfully at the gathered teams. “The Exiles lack a striker to make their assault plausible. In the same vein, the Twinfrost party doesn’t have a caster to keep enemies at range. And barring all that, If any of us were to go to where the portal is, we’d be greeted with the next obstacle.”

Darrin waited after that, savoring the interest of the mages around us. It felt similar to what Karsien did, but not nearly as contrived in his showmanship. The leader of the Unblooded Party knew how to hold the attention of a crowd.

And someone’s patience predictably broke. “And what would that be?” a voice asked. I turned, surprised to see Numar speaking up. “Why should we help you?” he added with narrowed eyes.

Darrin seemed unphased by the rudeness of the boy’s tone. “The portal is located in the tallest skyscraper I have yet seen, standing easily twice as tall as any building near here. And it's at the center of a large lake, which likely has its own dangers lurking beneath.”

That statement made everyone shift uncomfortably.

“We can work together with the Unblooded,” Hraedel said after a moment. “But not with the Twinfrosts. They stabbed us in the back once already.”

I felt my heart sink as Hraedel’s words set in, the peaceful discussion we had managed shattered by his words.

Alun, predictably, looked more confused than angry at the accusation. “What in the–”

“On what right do you accuse Highblood Frost?” Bered spoke up, stepping forward with a sneer. “Baseless accusations will not be tolerated, unblooded.”

Fuck, I thought, recognizing the damage such toxicity would have on our negotiations. Hraedel bristled, the large man looming with palpable irritation. I stepped forward, but thankfully Darrin was quicker. He moved in between the two mages, raising both hands and smiling his usual smirk.

“As the young Lord Frost said,” the leader of the Unblooded Party said calmly, “Accusations need to be substantiated. What is your claim?”

Bered looked ready to bite Darrin’s head off. He opened his mouth to speak, but my sound magic cut off every word he tried to utter. He looked confused for a moment, before whirling on me.

“Everyone here has a right to speak their minds without being shouted over,” I said, letting the glares of Numar and Bered wash over me. “If you can’t let each person talk in turn, then you revoke your right to speak. Once Hraedel makes his claim, feel free to refute it.”

Bered stalked over to me, trying to look bigger as he puffed out his chest. Numar moved to his side, backing his twin up.

I looked down on them apathetically. I had grown tall in the past few months: a little over six feet. With mana strengthening my growth, I looked older than I truly was. But these teens looked their age and acted younger.

It would take more than this to intimidate me. “Are you going to move?” I asked, my eyes hard.

All the eyes of the meeting were trained on us. Darrin looked at me uncertainly. Sevren with approval. I could sense the embarrassment wafting off of Alun behind me.

The combined stares of everybody around finally seemed to break through whatever shell the brothers had. I saw it crack, leaking a flurry of emotions I just barely caught. Shame, anger, and desire. Desire for what, though?

They shuffled back, unable to even make a sound.

I looked to Hraedel, my expression stony. “Continue.”

He looked disconcerted by something in my eyes. “Yes… well, we spotted the Twinfrosts when we first entered this zone. Only got a brief glimpse before we had to escape. But that's how I know. I recognized one of your group.” Hraedel paused. “And it's telling that the one who attacked us isn’t with you. Are you trying to hide her?”

Wait, what? Her? Not he? Did that mean that it wasn’t the twins? I felt as if I’d been thrown for a loop. I turned to the Twinfrosts questioningly.

What greeted me was an expression of purest rage on Alun’s face. It was the same anger that drove him to strike the twins not so long ago.

“You dare?” he said, stalking forward. I tried to set a hand on his shoulder, but he smacked it away. “Do you have any idea how flimsy that lie is?”

Hraedel scoffed. “Her attack cost us our sentry and shield. I’m willing to bet she’s waiting around here, too, ready to finish the job when we leave!”

The others began to stir as the confrontation heated up. Mages looked about warily, their hands resting on their weapons. The tension was taught like a bowstring, ready to snap and send an arrow into any unsuspecting man who didn’t move in time.

Alun threw a punch.

It didn’t connect.

Sevren had blurred to the man’s side, holding Alun back forcefully as he tried in vain to throw himself at Hraedel. “You don’t get it, do you?” he yelled hoarsely. “She’s dead! My wife was taken by the undead weeks ago! I didn’t even get to see her body! And you’re telling me she attacked you! I’ll kill you for that! Throw you to the corpses below!”

The meeting erupted into a cacophony of noise as people began to shout, clamoring to be heard over one another.

“--Utter absurdity!”

“--Shouldn’t have come here!”

“--I told them this would happen!”

But my mind had drifted off at Alun’s words. Hraedel didn’t seem to be lying. His suspicion and anger felt too real to me. He could be just mistaken, having misidentified one of the undead attacking his team.

The undead…

I felt my heart grow cold. Alun had said his wife was taken by the undead weeks ago. And the attack was supposedly more recent.

As the meeting fell to chaos around me, people pushing and shoving, I felt another possibility begin to form in my mind. I didn’t want to look at it. Didn’t want to consider it. But right now…

“Enough!” I said, enhancing my voice with sound magic. I slammed my intent into the ambient mana, letting the world itself carry the weight of my emotion. My killing intent wafted out from me like heat off a stone, causing mages nearby to choke from the sudden pressure. The stronger ones whirled on their heels, facing me with wild, uncomprehending eyes.

Sevren and Darrin gave me scrutinizing, uncertain looks, not as affected by my intent. Still. the entire rooftop became deathly silent.

My ability to spread my intent across the ambient mana had morphed into something unique since I had begun practicing with my violin. I had a measure of control of what emotion I wished to project across the world, but this was back to the blunt, brute force of bloodlust.

“Calm down!” I said with a snarl. “This… this might be worse than we thought. Give me a damn second.”

I turned, searching the crowd for Alun. I needed to ask him a question. The thoughts in my mind burned, seeking answers like a fire needs oxygen.

“Alun!” I called out, turning my head from side to side. I couldn’t see him. Where was he? “Alun, goddamnit, where are you?”

I finally spotted him. He had somehow separated himself from the group entirely, moving to the edge of the rooftops.

“Shaela?” my enhanced hearing picked up the man saying with a shaky voice.

My eyes widened, fear burgeoning in my chest. Alun was facing someone–something–that hadn’t been there a moment ago. A tall, scruffy woman stood across from him, her armor battered and worn. She looked incredibly human.

Her wounds didn’t bleed. I began to course mana through my limbs, my worst fears becoming a reality. “Alun, get away from that thing! Alun!”

The mages around me shifted out of their stupor, the urgency in my voice raising them to action.

Alun didn’t seem to hear me, raising a hand to the pale woman’s cheek. “I thought I saw you– I thought…”

I slammed telekinesis into the ground. Where before, the blurring dash always seemed instantaneous, now I felt as if I was slow. I shot forward and blinding speed, but it might as well have been a crawl.

The creature’s eyes burned a deep violet. It looked down on the man in front of it, something resembling contempt flaring there as the man brushed his hand against its cheek.

I watched in painfully slow motion as the creature raised its hand, seeming to caress Alun’s cheek in turn. It almost seemed tender, the brush of something long gone.

Then it snapped his neck.