Toren Daen
I coughed out a spittle of blood, staring up into the sky. The autumn leaves split the sun's rays in a strange pattern, casting the small clearing in heavenly light. My mouth tasted like iron and copper.
The blood streaming from my chest was warm. That felt like a strange thing to focus on as you died, but I was having trouble stringing together coherent thoughts. The skaunter corpses around me, all in various states of death, told the story of my recent battle.
I had fared far worse against the beasts than I expected. Without Norgan, I was only as fast as an unad. I had no way to block a strike, and my best weapon was a spray of rocks.
I had gone into the battle feeling a strange sort of relief. I was going to see Norgan again. I had no need to worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow would never come. I didn't have to worry about scrounging up next month's rent or reporting for my job on time. There was no need to constantly think about my next meal, or how I would afford new clothes.
It would be over soon. I could let it all go.
But as my life's blood leaked into the dirt, it washed over my fury at Blood Joan. Why should I spend my last moments so wrapped up in hate? My end already felt like a waste.
So instead, I found myself feeling a deep sadness. I had accomplished my goal. Blood Joan would never reap my soul for themselves, for I had taken this option myself.
I supposed that was what it all boiled down to. The choice I made was my own, and none could take that from me. But I found myself lamenting the fact that I hadn't made a difference. Blood Joan would take another young boy's brother someday, and the cycle would continue.
My eyes fluttered. Depending on where you were cut, it could take several seconds to many minutes to bleed out. Despite the pain in my chest–which was quickly melting away–I wondered why I had never been so introspective before.
When my eyes blinked open slowly, I was surprised to see someone floating down from on high. Their hair was like the sunrise, flaring out in a tapestry of orange. Her dress rustled gently from an unseen breeze, and her dusky purple skin contrasted with the glow of her eyes.
"Are you a god?" I asked, the pain from my moving chest inconsequential. I always wondered where I would go when I died. The Vritra Doctrination didn't preach about what happened after you died in service of the Sovereigns, only that it would bring you glory to do so. I remembered a man who died on the operating table, calling out to phantom shadows of his loved ones who had come to whisk him away.
I realized I would have felt a semblance of peace having Norgan take me to wherever was next.
The ethereal woman, who was slightly translucent, paused at my question. "I am not," she replied, her voice melodic.
"Am I going to see heaven?" I asked. If she wasn't a god, then this spirit might serve one.
She watched me for a long moment, those blazing eyes intent. "I do not know what lay for you beyond," she said. "But I come bearing an offer for you."
I blinked slowly, my thoughts running thick as sap as blood slowly pooled beneath me. "I do not know if I can accept, holy one. My body is broken."
And I wanted to see Norgan again. The woman might not know what I would see, but I knew my brother would be there. Felt it in every drop of blood that left my body.
"It is in regards to your body," the woman said, drifting closer. "Are you willing to give it up for another?"
"For you?" I asked. The woman was beautiful, and the power she contained only became clearer as my own strength waned.
"In part."
I closed my eyes. I felt tempted to let them stay closed. I would never have to open them again. I was so tired.
"Can you make this world better?" I asked, pulling on those melancholy thoughts from before. "So brothers and sisters will never lose each other again?"
"Is that what you wish?" the woman's voice feathered against my cheek. I pulled my eyelids open. It was so hard, like lifting the sky on my back.
The woman was closer now, standing right by my side. "I think so," I whispered. "People need a light to follow."
"If you accept my offer, your soul will not leave this plane," the woman said. She was so radiant, like a star in the night. "But it will join with another's. Wish enough–want enough–and mayhaps your dreams may come true."
What would Norgan say? He was the one who took risks, striking out where I felt safer in my comfort zone. His drive and strength were what pushed us both onward.
I felt my eyes glaze over as the world became unfocused. I felt myself slipping, slowly falling toward a light.
But not yet. I would see Norgan one day, but not today. He would be disappointed in me if I met him without having done all I could. "I accept."
—
I pulled my eyes open, the dream–the memory, one I had not recalled until now–fresh on the edges of my mind. Stark-white walls stared back at me, a familiar sterile scent greeting my nose.
I lay prone on a hospital bed, a common gown keeping out the chill. My body ached in a dozen places, and I bit back a curse as I instinctively tried to move my arms.
My mana channels ached something fierce, causing me to quickly surrender the idea. A thin I.V. was injected into my arm, no doubt feeding me nutrients remotely. Scanning around the room, I noticed my notebook standing on a nearby table, along with a few of my belongings. The signet ring of Named Blood Daen sat there proudly, the dagger sigil braving the open air.
I struggled to recall the events that led me here. I remembered my capture, being hauled up to be faced with Lawrent Joan. I remembered each blow I took before I was finally threatened with the syringe of blithe.
And then the explosion rocked the building. I had been thrown from where I knelt, along with that hovering quill. Watching it… watching it finally allowed me to understand. That rush of mana from upgrading my crest to an emblem had purified my core. The outpour from that purification had briefly overwhelmed the mana-suppressing shackles around my wrists.
And after that…
"You have rested long, Contractor," a voice said against my mind. I would've jumped in surprise if I could move. Those were not my own thoughts.
The voice was familiar, travelling over a link that had always been present. It was melodic and even. If I had never heard it before, I might have thought it imperious. But now the voice was tentative, waiting. I could feel a sliver of emotion there, but it was muted by hesitance and… fear? Anxiety?
Lady Dawn? I thought, trying to direct the question over our link. She had never used it before that last fight, where our Bond had deepened for the briefest of minutes.
The Unseen World darkened the colors in the room. The phoenix sat on a nearby chair, her hands held in her lap gracefully. She wore her orange sundress with purple lining, matching the one I'd seen in my recently unearthed memory.
"It has been some time since you were awake," she said, both aloud and over our telepathic bond. It was a strange sensation, processing words through two different senses. "Some were beginning to worry you would never wake."
"Were you worried about me?" I teased lightly. "I would've never thought you had it in you."
"Your body is not fully assimilated with the Will that marks your core," the phoenix replied, battering my teasing away like a lord dismisses a servant. "Though there was no other option, using the power it granted taxed your core and body beyond anything before."
I remembered the rush of power as my mind meshed with Lady Dawn's, her reassurance a comforting hand on my shoulder as I fought the Joans in their heart of power. The red fire I could see over everyone's heart, the deep understanding of mana I gained…
I remembered how I acted under the influence of the Will. I pulled and twisted at the fire and sound mana available to me, using them in ways that made perfect sense at the time. It was as if I had a college-level understanding of mathematics and was working through a complex equation. I knew all the steps to get from one end to the other.
But now, I could only recognize the start and the end. Fire and sound created plasma. But the steps I had taken seemed nonsensical to me now, operating under principles and insight that I couldn't replicate. I was like a middle schooler watching a man work through an integral. I knew he was adding something here, or dividing there. The symbols and signs were familiar, but I was lost in the process.
"How long was I out?" I asked, looking down at my body. It was still bruised and battered in places, which told me I probably hadn't been out long. My core was near full capacity once more, Lady Dawn's feather working at top speed. Considering my healing factor, that meant I probably had been out for less than a few days.
"You have been unconscious for nearly a week," the phoenix replied, causing me to internally balk. "It is not so surprising, Contractor. Your healing factor… it is derived from the basilisk lineage nearly every man and woman in Alacrya carries a trace of. But the Vritra's mana arts… they are anathema to those of the phoenixes."
I stewed on that revelation for a minute more. "My body won't heal well from wounds I take after using the Will," I said with a sigh. "Does that mean–"
I was interrupted when a face peeked into the room. I didn't recognize who it was, but their eyes widened upon seeing me awake. "Oh, sorry for intruding!" the woman said quickly. "I'll get Trelza for you now that you're awake!" She rushed out of the room without another word. Considering the woman mentioned Trelza, I was in the East Fiachra Healer's Guild.
"Mayhaps it would be wiser for you to communicate with me only through your mind for the time being," Lady Dawn said slowly aloud and over our link. "It would keep our conversations sheltered from curious ears." I could feel the barest brush of her emotions over that bond, but it was fleeting. The phoenix wasn't as stone cold as she made herself out to be.
I thought you despised telepathic communication, I thought with effort. I remember you having very choice words about not touching any other minds.
Lady Dawn was silent for a moment. Her hair rustled slightly, the burning orange locks waving despite being in a building. She looked contemplative.
"When we were first Bonded, Contractor, I was not whole. Agrona… he took much from me. Much that was dear to my being. But as you progressed, especially as you broke through to the yellow core stage… I have begun to recover," she said, looking at my core.
This time I could feel the emotion Lady Dawn held. She was trying to keep it back, but it flowed unbidden over our Bond like water through a canal. She was truly, deeply grateful to me. In a way that was difficult to fathom.
I felt like I didn't deserve the emotion. I hadn't done anything to help her yet or fulfill my promise to her.
Then the asura did something I never expected. She smiled, chuckling lightly as if at a private joke. I briefly wondered if I was still unconscious, dreaming all of this in some figment of my mind. But the aches and pains of my body were too real. I gaped at her.
Lady Dawn had just laughed.
"You will need to learn to mask your thoughts, Contractor," she said as her voice quieted. "They are blatantly obvious. I avoid reading anything deeper than what you intentionally convey, but it is considered poor manners to leave them so open." The asura paused, cocking her head. "Like a man that comments on politics during a wedding. It is rude, if unintentional."
At that moment, the door to my hospital room opened, revealing a tall, bald man. I shut my gaping mouth with an audible click as the Unseen World vanished, leaving the walls a bright white again.
"Worry not, Contractor," Lady Dawn's voice brushed against my mind. "I will teach you, as I promised."
Trelza looked down on me, his face a mask. I felt the sudden desire to fall back asleep and pretend the man just wasn't there. I felt judged. I felt unworthy.
"You live," the stern surgeon said. He had taught me everything I knew of saving lives, and yet his words cut deeper than any scalpel. "Despite the wounds you incurred."
"I'm difficult to kill," I offered, not knowing what else to say. I had sworn to this man that I would not seek vengeance for Norgan's death. Even if I swore on the names of gods I did not believe in, the weight was still the same. I could not rationalize my lies.
Trelza opened a notebook, looking down at the pages. "A broken nose. Three broken ribs. Internal bleeding from the liver. Multiple lacerations and contusions across the body," Trelza started, listing off what must have been my injuries. With each one, I sank a little deeper into my bed. "A crushed tibia. Multiple third-degree burns on each digit of the hand, reaching up the arms. A stab wound in the anterior deltoid muscles. Extreme backlash from overuse of mana, bordering on self-crippling."
The notebook snapped shut crisply. "You should be dead, Toren Daen, and yet you are on track for a full recovery." We stared at each other tensely for a few moments. "You should thank the Sovereigns for keeping you alive."
And suddenly, I felt my shame be buried by another emotion.
Anger.
"It is not the Sovereigns that keep me alive," I said with a scowl, pulling myself straighter in my bed. "In fact, I think the Sovereigns would approve of my actions. I slew my enemy, proving my strength in battle."
"You swore an oath, Daen," Trelza replied, looking at me from above. That man was tall. "And you broke it."
"There are some things that an oath can never restrain," I said through gritted teeth. "And it wouldn't matter either way. Kaelan Joan promised me that she would see me dead eventually."
"Oaths are what separates us from beasts," Trelza responded, unmoved. "They are what give our language meaning. To break an oath is to move closer to your animalistic heritage. There were plenty of options available to you, Daen, chief among them leaving this city. Escaping past the Joans' area of influence."
I glared at the doctor, who watched me impassively. But as the conversation caught up to me, I felt my anger settle somewhat. Getting into a verbal sparring match with this man would do nothing to improve my condition. "I did that, Trelza," I said wearily. "I left this city. The day Norgan died? The day Kaelan promised me she would see my blood spilled in vengeance?" I licked my lips. I had never told anyone this in this new life. In fact, I purposefully avoided thinking about the events of Toren's death.
And I only now truly remembered the death itself.
"I went into the Clarwood Forest," I whispered. "I did not plan to come out."
Trelza shifted backward slightly, a flickering of surprise on his face. It was faint: a slight rise of the eyebrows; barely parted lips. His eyes widened the slightest of margins. But for the stone-faced surgeon, it might have been an audible gasp.
"But I came back, Trelza. I left that forest with a purpose. And regardless of what you think of it; regardless of how you view my actions, that purpose has been fulfilled."
And that was the truth of the matter. I had broken an oath, but I had made a deeper pact to myself before I ever swore to Trelza. If he could not understand, I could not force it upon him.
Trelza quickly composed himself. We were silent for a few minutes, the revelation of my attempted suicide simmering in the air like a live wire.
"When you are recovered," Trelza said at last, "You will officially be let go as an assistant surgeon of this clinic."
I nodded. "I understand."
The man turned on his heels, marching out of the door. A very uncomfortable-looking nurse came in after, asking about my symptoms and checking my vitals like Trelza was supposed to do. I felt my shoulders slump as I rattled off what she needed to know: after all, I'd asked the same questions a hundred times myself.
"That man will break long before he bends," Lady Dawn said over our link. "Such inflexibility… it reminds me more of my fellow asura than a mortal man."
My shoulders sagged as I stared up at the ceiling. It makes him an astounding doctor, I replied telepathically. But a difficult person to know.
And it seemed Trelza was not the last of my visitors. A head of shoulder-length black hair peeked in quickly and then spotted me. My eyebrows raised in surprise as Naereni quickly darted in, shutting the door behind her.
"It's about time you woke up," she said with an exhale. "Didn't know if you ever would."
"I'm difficult to kill," I repeated, feeling tired.
The young woman rolled her eyes, but there was a note of something else there.
"How's the crew doing?" I asked, vaguely remembering seeing Aban, Vaelum, and the assorted shields I'd saved in the Clarwood Forest before passing out. "I take it you're not half-dead like I was?"
Naereni seemed to loosen up, my familiar tone easing some hidden tension in her spine. "We're a lot better off than you are," she said. "The Joans kept the distillery under their estate, which was really stupid in my opinion. Just asking for somebody to blow it up."
I smiled, and for once I thought it might meet my eyes. "Absolutely begging," I said.
Naereni shook her head. "We'll have to catch up with you later. I don't have much time. The head doctor here… he uh, doesn't really like having thieves running about his Guild."
I raised my brow. "How'd you figure that out?"
"He glared at me until I left," she said sheepishly. "He just never blinked."
Yep. That sounded like Trelza.
"You'll be happy to know that the kill order was rescinded," Naereni said. "And without the Joans strongarming a whole bunch of people, they aren't expending the manpower to look for you. You're safe from them, at least for now."
I grinned, but it was a bit empty. "Maybe I'd take a walk if I could move my legs."
Naereni shook her head.
"Anyways," she said, refocusing herself. "I came to deliver these to you," she said, pulling a few items from her dimension rings. I recognized the books I'd asked Wade to borrow for me. Aldoreth's Encyclopedia of Stars, Catalogue of the Constellations' Movement Across Alacrya, and Treatise on the Four Elements of Mana in Relation to their Natural Counterparts.
The last item made me pause. It was a familiar metal case. "I found it in the aftermath of your fight against Lawrent. I thought you might appreciate this."
She set the case down on the table near my journal, then nodded. "I, uh, was a bit late. I hope this makes up for that."
Not giving me a chance to reply, the young striker peeked her head out of the doorway, then darted out, leaving like a phantom that was never there.
I stared at the metal case, knowing the contents intimately. I reached out with my telekinesis emblem, using the fine control it granted to remotely unflip the latch securing the case. My mana channels ached slightly from the action. Backlash came in stages: shortly after, trying to use mana at all would be like trying to flex a sprained wrist. You could only damage yourself, and you would never achieve what you were trying to accomplish. Now, I was in the stage where everything simply ached, like a muscle that had gone through a heavy workout.
Using my magic wouldn't hurt me unless I overdid it.
I reached out with my mind, enveloping the antique violin within the case in my mana. Both it and the bow floated upward, a bright white outline signaling it was under my control. With a bare shift of will, the priceless instrument floated over to me, nestling gently in my lap.
I held the violin bow, inspecting the aether beast hairs that made up the strings. The wood was of solid clarwood, and I had known this instrument all my life.
I had abandoned it in my old apartment, leaving it like a man discards a used tissue. The moment I had done it, I had almost loathed the violin. Music was freedom. But the shackles I wore would taint any sound I could make. And music was beautiful. But why should things be beautiful if my brother was not there to share the experience? And music was emotion. But what emotion could I feel except anger and pain in the wake of my reincarnation and the death of my brother?
I remembered Toren's dying wish as he sacrificed himself for my rebirth. As he gave up not just his body, but his soul as well to the promises of Lady Dawn.
Make the world a better place. Bring people the light.
I picked up the instrument, settling the violin between my jaw and collar. I held the bow up, looking at it long and hard. Such a simple thing. It was surprisingly light in my hands, and my hold on it was practiced and firm. Even if I had wanted to forget, my body remembered. I set the bow across the strings, closing my eyes as my body moved of its own accord.
I took a shuddering breath, then began to play.