Toren Daen

I groaned, shifting uncomfortably. I felt something soft under my head, but the rest of my body felt stiff as a board. Each movement made me ache in protest.

I opened my eyes, blinking stupidly. There was a bedroll under my head with a roughshod blanket laid over my chest. My body ached fiercely. It was the ache of overuse; the afterburn of a sprain. My body creaked as I slowly pulled myself to a sitting position.

The second thing I noticed was the pulsing that thumped in my ears. It was like a bundle of hearts beat in a disjointed chorus, but it wasn’t exactly. I wasn’t just hearing this with my ears, but my own heartbeat as well.

I hazily tried to decipher the flows of sound as they reached my ears. I counted them internally as I slowly pulled myself from the haze of sleep. All the beats seemed to come from in front of me; a subdued staccato. As my ears adjusted to the sound, I gradually began to sift through the different tempos. There was one… two…. six, seven…

I looked across from my little sleeping position. I was under the open sky, bright rays of warm sunlight washing over my body and banishing some of my aches. The sources of the heartbeats revealed themselves to me.

Hraedel was sitting numbly on the edge of a cookfire, staring blankly at a bowl of food. He was missing a few fingers, something I hadn’t spotted before. Jared and Alandra were similarly subdued, wrapped in each others’ embrace. Gone was their bickering and squabbling. Now, there was only a strange solace they took in each other. The hearty shield had lost his eyepatch, revealing a deep scar that covered a closed eyelid. His beard had been singed to the roots. The auburn-haired sentry looked the best of anybody I could see, even though she was covered in myriad cuts and bruises.

Bered and Numar were on their own bedrolls, moving fitfully in their sleep. They were each burned in several places, and I knew they would bear scars deeper than physical from this zone. They were boys playing at men and had been thrust headfirst into the struggles of adulthood.

Sevren was staring up at something out of my sight with a forlorn expression, his white hair brilliant once more.

And Darrin was sitting with someone’s body on his lap.

Seven heartfires I can hear, I thought blearily, realizing that was what my new djinni-phoenix body was registering. But there are eight people here.

A fresh wave of adrenaline coursed through my body. I lurched from my makeshift bedding, scraping my hands and knees on the concrete beneath me. I distantly realized I was on the observatory at the peak of the Empire State Building, but that didn’t matter.

I stumbled my way toward Darrin, who was holding Dima’s body. While everyone’s lifeforce beat in a subdued staccato, I could hear nothing from Dima’s soul.

Mages cried out in surprise as I barrelled my way straight to Darrin. He looked up at me with a hard expression, but I ignored it, falling to my knees in front of the two. I laid my hands on Dima’s body, hoping against hope.

For a long, painful moment, there was only a void. An empty expanse echoed back at my attempted call.

Then I felt it. A weak, weak heartbeat under my hands. Darrin gave me a stern, cold look as I laid my palms over his ex-lover’s body, but he restrained any response. The ascenders slowly crowded around me as I tried to make use of my new powers.

My own lifeforce had a deeply sonorous beat. Every thump seemed to rattle my bones with its power, cascading with energy words could not describe. I meshed myself with that rhythm, acting purely on instinct.

It’s just like my music, isn’t it? I thought a bit headily. I need to show what I feel; get them to sympathize!

And so I reached out with a limb I didn’t know I had, caressing the heart beneath my palms. My hands glowed orange-purple as my lifeforce responded in turn.

Come on! I thought, that steady rumble of my heart lacing my intent. You want to live, don’t you? Your heartfire doesn’t want to go out, does it Dima? You must have something to live for! Something that makes your heart thunder!

For an agonizing moment, Dima’s own heartbeat was almost overwhelmed by my own. It was too big; too powerful. Like the resonant crash of a hammer on a gong drowns out the sound of a mother’s cry, my own strength smothered Dima’s.

No, I thought, pulling back slightly and trying to moderate my spell. I backed off hastily, trying to find the right metaphysical distance.

And then Dima’s heart flared. It was just once: a single jump in rhythm as if I had thrown a splash of kerosene onto a dying match.

“Yes,” I said aloud, my senses wholly focused on the dying woman’s body under my hands. “You want to fight, don’t you?! There’s something here! There must be!”

For an instant, Dima’s heartbeat seemed to rise in pitch, responding to my call. Her body did not move; didn’t even twitch. But I felt her heartbeat race under my palms. I felt a grin stretch over my sweat-stained face as the spark was lit.

Then my mood plummeted as that gusto guttered out. The fire simmered down once more, the stress of fighting overwhelming.

“No, no!” I cried, uncaring of the mages watching with mute fascination. “You can’t give up! Not like this; not when we’re so close! Come on!”

There was no internal response. Despite the sympathetic call I weaved through my intent and heartfire, it was lacking something. I had a deep, resonant feeling that this was possible. That I should be able to pull Dima from the call of the Beyond. But I just wasn’t powerful enough!

“Our daughter,” Darrin whispered suddenly, his words like a knife over my spell. “I don’t know if you can hear, Dima, but you need to wake up.” He choked back a sob. “You told me her name, didn’t you? She’s called Pen.”

Dima’s lifeforce surged.

Tears were running down Darrin’s face as he continued. “I know why you named her that. Knew the moment you told me as you lay broken. It’s from what we always used to say when we tackled something impossible, isn’t it? ‘In for a penny, in for a pound?’”

Yes, yes yes! I thought, Dima’s heartfire reacting to Darrin’s words. It arced higher and higher, seeking to reach the heights of my own.

“We have a daughter,” Darrin said numbly, clutching Dima’s body against his chest. The jovial man I knew was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a broken, stuttering wreck. “And I never knew. You need to be her mother. You can’t leave without that.”

I exhaled, my limbs feeling weak as I slowly withdrew my hands. The orange-purple glow suffusing them slowly dimmed as my body burned once more. Dima was still comatose in Darrin’s arms, but her heart beat in a healthy staccato. I stumbled backward, nearly falling over before a hand caught my shoulder.

Sevren wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were glued to Dima’s chest, where lingering motes of orange-purple flared. “Vivum,” he whispered with shock in a voice too low to be heard by anyone else.

There was a quiet sort of awe suffusing the group as their own heartbeats accelerated. I could hear it; feel it on a deeper level than I expected. The flurry of battle after my… First Sculpting made it difficult to recognize that change in my perception.

Looking back, I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to aim my last ditch strike at the serpent without the constant buzzing of its dead heartfire in the back of my mind guiding my hands.

Darrin was left to weep openly over his lover’s body as he sensed the change. She would live.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked mutely.

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“Several hours,” Sevren’s voice said from beside me. His hand was still gripping my shoulder tightly. “When the elevator hit the top, we found your body leaning against the walls, unconscious. We did what we could to make you comfortable.”

I sensed a slight change in two of the heartbeats nearby. I turned lethargically, noting the Frost twins slowly waking up.

“That serpent almost destroyed us,” Sevren said. “It was poised over where the portal should’ve been, ready to destroy the frame. Then there was a blinding flash of red light, and the thing died.” The Denoir heir gave me a knowing look.

I turned, shrugging off Sevren’s hand. Looming over the balcony of the Empire State Building was the massive skull of the leviathan, still poised to breathe toxic hell onto unwitting victims. Its skeletal body was still wrapped around the skyscraper like a monument to our struggle.

Its skull, even without the flesh, could’ve swallowed an elephant whole with ease. But sunlight shone through those bleached bones, telling me all I needed to know.

“Wait,” I said, my brain catching up with Sevren’s words. “You said ‘where the portal should’ve been,’” I continued, feeling my core buzz. “What do you mean?”

The Denoir heir shuffled uncomfortably. “Come on, Toren,” he said, pointedly turning away. “I’ll show you.”

—

I stared mutely up at the empty portal frame, finally understanding the depression that smothered everyone’s moods like a blanket. For all intents and purposes, it looked the same as any other descension portal, except there was simply a lack of blurring purple at the center.

We were trapped here. I felt disbelief roiling through my weary body. After all we’d fought for, this couldn’t be it, could it? To have slain the monster, conquered the castle, yet have the doors barring our exit at the end?

Had the serpent managed to damage this place after all? Or was this simply the Relictombs degrading after all?

I leaned against a wall, rubbing my face as I tried to rationalize all this. I wanted–no, I needed–Aurora right now. Her steadfast reassurance had gotten me through so much, yet the old bird was silent in her slumber.

“This can’t be it,” I said numbly. “There must be another way out. Something we’re missing.”

Sevren stood nearby with crossed arms. Promise was sheathed at his waist, and I had no plans on asking for it back any time soon. “I think the same,” he said slowly. “The Relictombs simply don’t act like this for people.” He looked at me pointedly. “There must be something we’re missing.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but I was cut off from that when the Frost twins slowly walked toward us.

Bered stalled in his walk when my eyes fell on him. “Oh, uh,” he stuttered. “Hello?”

The boys were hunched in on themselves, their shoulders caving inward. They looked meek to me. This zone had taken much from them: their ascending partners, their strength, and their perception of themselves.

“We wanted to talk to you,” Numar said at last, pulling himself up higher. “About how you’ve helped us in this zone.”

I sighed wearily. “It’s nothing,” I breathed out, trying to dismiss the young mages. It was my fault this zone existed in the first place. To thank me was foolish.

“No,” Bered said, seeming more sure of himself. “No, you have done Highblood Frost a great service in assisting us,” he said, puffing his chest out a bit. A splinter of that old, noble demeanor he wielded before like his mace pulled itself to the surface. But it wasn’t exactly the same. “We, the Frost Twins, wish to formally extend our gratitude to you and yours,” he said, gaining confidence with each word.

“If you ever seek refuge or safe haven from your troubles,” Numar said in perfect sync with his brother, "We would be more than happy to assist."

There was an awkward silence between us as the Twins made their statement.

I smiled wryly. "You seem certain we'll make it out of here alive," I noted sardonically, gesturing to the empty portal behind me. "But it appears we're all trapped here."

"You'll find a way out of this," Bered said with a shine in his pale eyes. "You've gotten us this far."

I averted my gaze from the admiration I saw there, instead scrutinizing the portal frame once more. It was covered in the familiar glowing purple aetheric runes that flowed and twisted on either side.

I looked down at the signet ring of Named Blood Daen as the twins' heartbeats receded, the two leaving me alone again with Sevren.

Blood Daen's sigil was of a dagger leaking runes on either side, one side the glyphs on ascension portals, the other from descension portals.

From ascenders we come, as ascenders we stay, I thought with fondness. The sigil had always fit me, but after my recent experiences, it felt inadequate.

I narrowed my eyes, taking my ring off to more closely observe its golden etchings. I focused on the runes that flowed from the left of the dagger, furrowing my brow.

Sevren seemed to immediately pick up on my shift in mood. "Toren?" he asked as I loped toward the empty portal frame. "What is it?"

I gazed up at the runemarked stone arch, my mind skipping over everything I knew of the Relictombs. They were designed to pass down insight into aether, and only once the trial-goer had succeeded were they allowed to leave.

"Sevren?" I asked, not turning to look at the man. "What did my Bond Promise you to secure your help?"

Sevren's heartfire picked up in rhythm notably. I could sense it, even without looking at the man.

"That… being who possessed your body?" He questioned.

I didn't respond, my eyes still tracing over the runic arch.

"It–she?–said that this zone was a reflection of your mind," he started slowly, measuring out each word. "She said you knew more of these tombs than any other. That you could show me the truth."

You truly didn't hold back, did you Aurora? I thought. Considering how close I was to reaching the Beyond, however, I could understand giving away my secrets to keep me alive.

A silence stretched between us after the white-haired striker asserted my Bond's promise. Sevren's lifeforce flared even further.

He thinks I'm going to deny him, I realized. He doesn't trust me to follow through.

"We spoke several times," I started, "Comparing these Relictombs to a trial."

I walked forward, looking closer at the portal frame and brushing my hands along the stone. I couldn't sense the aether within like Arthur would eventually be able to, but that wasn't what I was searching for. I traced my hands along the rim, trying to mesh my mind with my heartbeat as I searched for something.

The stone was surprisingly coarse. It matched the concrete aesthetic around us, blending in seamlessly with the zone. The runic markings had faint imprints in the frame where purple light seeped out.

"That's only part of the truth," I said. The Denoir heir listened with rapt attention, his mana strung like a bow. I finally found what I was looking for as my palm hovered over some of the runes. A strange, dormant pulse thrummed just like the heartfires all around me, except it radiated from solid rock instead.

I stepped away from the frame with a light smile on my face. "Do you know what the ancient mages called themselves?"

"No," Sevren replied after a minute. "No matter where I searched or how deep I delved, I found no name for such a powerful civilization. It was as if it was expunged from all our histories."

"They were the djinn," I said, turning to give Sevren a piercing stare. "They were a people of life and progress. And these Tombs?" I added, gesturing to the skies. "This is their Legacy. A compendium of working knowledge and insight condensed from the very fabric of Entropy. Everything these great people once knew and understood of the fabric of reality is woven into these zones."

I turned away from Sevren, who had gone stiff from my words. I laid my hand on the portal frame, right over where the pulsing heat of a heartbeat thrummed to only my ears in the dead stone. I called on my own lifeforce.

It wasn’t like manipulating mana, where the strength of will and the power of your mind forced the world to bend to your whims. It was more akin to how my intent pressed subconsciously into the atmosphere with every emotion. I needed to know what I felt; why I felt a certain way, to make use of this power.

I needed to know myself on the most fundamental of levels.

My heartfire responded in sympathy, coursing up my veins and making them wash with heat. My hands felt aglow with energy as my lifeforce seeped from my fingers, each mote the color of a waxing dawn.

“Each of these zones isn’t just a trial,” I said, feeling breathy. “These dimensions are teachers, and we the students. If we wish to understand aether as the djinn did, we must be able to listen and decipher.”

The motes of aether on my fingertips–drawn from the very nexus of my heart–sank into the stone where I felt the heartbeat. For a moment, nothing happened. The air felt as electric as ever, but the charge hadn’t decided to go to the ground.

And then the portal responded. A rune fuzzed into existence on the portal frame, shimmering with orange-purple as it flared with power. A stylized heart–not the cartoonish kind, but a true depiction of the organ–flashed and groaned.

A single dot of purple spatium sparked in the center of the frame, before expanding rapidly and settling into place. I exhaled with a slight smile as the portal activated, providing us all a way out.

I’d proven something to myself. Whatever test the maddened djinn had rambled of in that town zone, I had the distinct sense that I’d passed.

You said they made a test for me? To grant me insight? I thought with relish. Look and see. I’ve taken the hell you’ve shown me and molded it into something beautiful.

I stepped back, my breathing heavy. Not from exhaustion, but adrenaline. I still didn’t know the ins and outs of this new power of mine, but I had time to learn what was possible.

I turned around, expecting to see only Sevren’s waiting form.

Instead, I saw Darrin Ordin’s expression of disbelief as he stared at the portal, something dark churning in his eyes.