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Toren Daen
Descending toward the gigantes, I could appreciate their sheer scale so much more.
Dozens of colorful tents burned happily along the earthen shades of the titanic mana beasts, clinging to their massive spines. Ropes darted about in haphazard loops, anchored in a dozen places through the stoneskin. The closer I got to the great, flat plates of the spines—each vaguely reminiscent of a stegosaurus' ridges—the more I could sense their purpose.
Thrusting high into the sky like wide, ridged knives, mana and lifeforce flowed through veins that branched along their bulk. Sunlight congregated there, heat and energy dancing in the noonday sun, before swirling down the massive funnel toward a submerged core.
"Wonderful, is it not?" Clanlord Lo chuckled beside me, slapping his rotund belly again. "Mighty beasts, they are. The last of their kind, too! Too many fools thought their size meant they were creatures of destruction. A foe meant to be felled! But these giants are the most gentle of all."
I looked back out over the nigh-endless expanse of the Aborshan Wastes. Epheotus was a pocket dimension, an imitation of the world outside. There was no curving horizon, no slope of the spherical Earth to hide away the plains. I could see unnaturally far in every direction, only thwarted by the eventual distortion of the atmosphere.
And everywhere I looked, through endless miles, were those same worn pathways. Ravines carved not by water, but by plodding feet. It must have taken countless years, beyond my mortal comprehension. But were these really the last?
"That is a tragedy," Chul rumbled beside me, staring across the sandy expanse, the same sentiments ringing through his intent. "A hunt turned to an extinction…"
"Oh, don't worry, dear guests!" Lo added cheerily, entirely unaffected by our dour moods. "We're safe now. The Indrath Clan protects us from any would-be hunters trying to hurt our gentle giants, and the mana beasts prowling about in the sands don't dare approach. We're safe as can be."
That sobered me. Safe as can be, I thought, sparing Chul a glance. We knew beforehand the likelihood of draconic guards. To have their presence confirmed was comforting, in a way; but that just meant we needed to be more cautious.
Sylphs darted about the gigantes, flitting like electrified hummingbirds. A few of them watched from a distance, inspecting us newcomers quizzically until they lost interest. Their attention was as formless as the sky itself, akin to discharged electrons. Unable to stay still, unable to maintain focus. It made me think of kids on ADHD, only holding interest for a fraction of a moment.
I let out a breath as we approached the thirdmost gigantes, setting down before a large tent burning an inviting orange. The bulk of it was anchored along a tall, plated spike, hiding in the shadow of the blazing sun. The stitched designs all across the flaps told me plainly of their exquisite workmanship, if the myriad cloaking spells imbued within had not. The inside was a blank spot to my mana senses and Sonar Flow, warding weaves threading through the ambient mana. I could push through them if I wanted to… But that would announce me as a threat, and would be rude besides.
"Find a place inside to relax," Clanlord Lo said amiably, hovering before the flap of the tent. "Lay back a little, enjoy the ride! But if you want for anything, you do need to pay." He jabbed an overblue finger into my face, squinting accusingly. "And no fighting! Our guests are here for leisure, not cracking skulls!"
"Understood, Clanlord," I said respectfully, suppressing a chuckle. "I'll keep my warrior instinct to myself."
After a simple nod, the sylph lifted back into the sky, flitting off after one of his errant clanmembers, yelling something about the drink they had. I watched him go quizzically, thinking. It would be nice, having a moving fortress that also cloaked my mana signature. Convenient.
Chul sidled close to me, which made for a bit of a comical sight. At seven feet tall—and filling out his entire frame, too—the disguised phoenix did not do stealth well. "Brother," he said, hushed as he could manage, "the dragons, do they hunker within? Must I prepare for battle?"
"No," I whispered back, keeping the sound contained. "These wandering taverns—or whatever they are—are frequent stops for travelers. No matter what we did, we'd come in contact with guards. Just keep your head down and follow my lead."
Chul nodded slowly, taking solace in the confidence I projected. Inside, though, a serpent had coiled around my stomach, and was slowly squeezing. Let's hope your advice is good, Wren. Or else this might all go to hell before it even starts.
I pulled Sonar Flow inward, compressing it down close to my body, recognizing that it could give me away if I wasn't careful. I was masquerading as a pantheon, and while I could certainly pull off one in appearance, I still needed caution. Then I banished my worries, pushed aside the curtain, and stepped inside the tent.
I was almost immediately attacked by the scent of incense, potent and strong. The scents were so foreign I had no basis to describe them, magical in nature as they were. A misty smoke seemingly moving of its own will permeated the expanse, carrying crackling lightning-lights through the tent. It was sweltering, too, easily beyond what a human could normally endure. If mana wasn't constantly strengthening my integrated body, I would have been immediately coated in sweat. Sound rushed up to meet me like a wave crashing against a lighthouse, the sort of chatter it wasn't surprising to find in a tavern such as this. In one of the distant corners, a woman was strumming what looked like a lute. With aquamarine hair that flowed as if underwater, skin ever-so-slightly blue, and an oceanic aura, I knew she was a leviathan.
For all the scents and sights that enraptured me, it was the music that held me in a grip. It was beautiful beyond words, strings snatching chords that made me almost supernaturally relaxed. A low rhythm that reminded me of better times: laughing with the people of East Fiachra, drinking ale with Darrin Ordin and the rest of the Unblooded Party to celebrate my preliminary ascent, being embraced by my flock in the Hearth.
The music was magical. The way the instrument carried the sound was unnatural. But the way I suddenly longed for my violin was purely me. I restrained my fingers from mirroring the chords, the piece etching itself into my memory.
I had more pressing matters to tend to.
Over a dozen mana signatures and heartbeats burned around me, each of them scintillating flavors and colors in the back of my mind. I recognized a few of them: the clear-water focus of the martial pantheons, the hoarding purple of the regal dragons, the everburn red of the phoenix, and the sky-thunder blue of the errant sylph. But there were almost as many unfamiliar lights, the tingling of power electrifying my skin.
There were no chairs in sight, only embroidered cushions scattered all about the large tent. And lounging at various places all across the stones, basking in the sauna-like heat, were asura from every walk of life.
I found the dragon guards immediately. It was hard not to while their mana signatures pulsed in blatant declarations of what they were. Two women with long, pale hair tied into braids inspected Chul and me, measuring us with golden eyes. Draconic twins. They sat cross-legged, not lounging among the cushions like the rest. They radiated cool confidence, holding the exquisite readiness of battle-tested warriors. They were tranquil: not just alone, but in each other. Their perfect features—a staple of the asura—seemed more immutable and powerful as they sat together.
Behind them, a taller dragon stood unlike the others. With short dark hair, a scruffy beard, and lilac eyes, he looked vaguely familiar for a reason I couldn't place. I knew immediately that he was the leader from both his strength and the set of his shoulders.
They were a problem for the me of a few minutes from now.
I let my eyes skate away from the dragons. Chul, who'd been trying not to stare at everything around us, belatedly remembered to put one foot in front of the other as I strode through the mishmash of smoke, cushions, and the scents of exotic food and drink. Not too fast, not too slow… just the right amount of confidence. Enough to be self-assured, but not cocky.
There were about a dozen asura all throughout the tent, not counting the sylphs that darted about with pitchers of wine and food. I read fleeting interest from most, but it didn't last. A few eyes followed us—black, orange, green, blue—and I remembered the clanlord's words.
This is a place for leisure. No battles, I thought. But politics was the sort of battle that never stopped being waged, wasn't it?
None tried to probe my mana signature, though. It seemed that etiquette did hold sway here.
Chul slipped into his role easily, his smile returning as the wave of new sights, sounds, and smells threaded through him. I could sense his utter love for the novelty, a childlike joy at experiencing something unique. He did what he could to keep his eyes forward, but they wandered. Catching on a large group of asura—hamadryads, phoenixes, and a single basilisk—around a low table, playing some sort of card game that made mana flare every now and then. Then to the sylphs, who seemed to drift up from the steaming floor with plates and goods materialized in their hands.
Then his eyes found a couple of sylphs that were unabashedly kissing in the corner, almost out of sight. He blushed all the way up to his ears, coughing from the potent incense and finally forcing his attention forward. I chuckled lightly.
It took me a while to find an empty space in the tent, but I finally did close to the great bone plate hungrily absorbing heat and mana. It was the most secluded spot I could find—amusingly much more secluded than the spot chosen by the two sylph women passionately kissing at the other end of the tent.
I let myself slowly drift down around a few of the cushions, going into a lotus pose. Chul settled down next to me, surprisingly graceful for one of his bulk.
Finally, we were as free as we could be, especially after I conjured a slight sound barrier around us.
"Try not to stare too much," I said quietly, amused by how the young phoenix was trying to take in everything at once. "We don't want to be too obvious."
Chul forcefully tore his gaze away from the rest of the sights, and for the first time, I felt his rising apprehension. He looked at the floor, his gaze cloudy.
"I cannot do this," he muttered. "I cannot restrain myself from gazing in wonder upon every new sight. I fear I am a liability, bro— Lord Yaksha. Stealth is no virtue of mine. I feel as if I am a liability in our quest."
I rested my hands across my knees, thinking once again. Chul was just like I was, early in my days on Alacrya: unable to lie, unable to hide his expression. His heart was earnest and pure.
He was right. He wouldn't be able to keep a secret long. If my plan was merely to stay undercover and avoid detection, we would have already failed.
"It's probably little consolation," I said slowly, finding equilibrium in the drifting music, "but I'm… not very good at keeping undercover, either."
Chul blinked owlishly. "That is impossible," he declared, seeming to believe it, too. He did his closest approximation of a whisper, eying the rest of the asura all lounging on cushions and enjoying the food, drink, and atmosphere. "Mother told me stories of your great escapades across the world! The many battles and valiant quests you underwent would not have been possible if not for your remarkable ability for stealth!"
I worked my jaw, feeling the strange urge to blush. "That's not entirely accurate," I said, pained.
I forced myself not to grimace as I recalled all of my failures to maintain something of a secret identity. First, I'd been cocky with my Dusk persona. Karsien had figured that out in barely a day. Then I'd tried to hide my effects on the Relictombs from Sevren, and that hadn't lasted more than a week. After that, I'd tried to infiltrate the cathedral in Nirmala, before I'd been forced to confront Retainer Mawar. Then I'd failed to avoid Mardeth's attention along the Redwater when I'd infiltrated his base. Seris had sort of always known I'd been against the High Sovereign. Then Agrona himself had torn apart all of my illusions of safety.
I groaned miserably as, for the first time, I started to make a tally of all the times I'd fucked up an undercover job.
After that… Well, there was the time Tessia Eralith had figured out my disguise. Then Taci had disemboweled me with a spear, too. And then Agrona again.
Holy shit, how bad was I at keeping a low profile?
"I'm really, really bad at avoiding suspicion," I muttered lamely, my self-esteem plummeting. Like a stone thrown down a deep well, I only now realized I had a proper tally for the number of times I'd fucked up the exact skill required to keep me alive. "So while we're going to do our best to avoid attention, the true core of our plan is actually—"
Wren poked his tiny mink nose from the folds of my scarf, his beady eyes scanning the room. "Don't say it here, even with a sound barrier. You really are terrible at this, aren't you?"
I resisted the urge to glare down at my scarf, but didn't give into Wren's taunt. I'd come up with the bones of our plan by speaking with Mordain and Wren both, hashing out details. I needed to do something different, and that was what would get us out of this mess. I hadn't had the chance to tell Chul all the details yet. I wasn't sure if I trusted him with all of them.
"Regardless, you aren't a liability, 'Arjuna.' You are needed for this," I said earnestly, hoping to assuage his fears.
Chul's face, though disguised, was still uniquely expressive. His emotions settled into something more even at this, and I hoped he'd been reassured. "Very well," he rumbled. "I am no chain around your ankles. I shall follow your wisdom, Lord Yaksha."
I smiled sardonically, hoping that we weren't all going to die horribly from my plan. "Alright, quiet now," I hushed him, attuning my ear to the heartbeats all around. "There's a sylph rising up through the floor about to ask us for our orders."
As if on cue, a bubbly, bluish form seeped through the hairline cracks of the gigantes' stone, before solidifying into a hazy outline, then focusing fully into a woman with a light smile. It made me think of Cadell's ability to meld his body with the atmosphere, except I doubted it was so perfectly honed for combat. Just like the other sylphs, she didn't really seem clothed. More like all the disconnected ribbons coasted around her in just the right way to keep modest.
Are the kitchens down below? I wondered for a moment. There must be entire tunnel networks down there. How does all of it work?
"Hello! My name is Jora," the woman said, cheer echoing through her voice. Her two sky-blue eyes lingered on my illusory, closed third. "Is there anything I can get you fine fellows? We've got fresh culavai tea, some reserves of cerulean yak meat and thuta dumplings, even! I'm sure we have something that would suit your tastes!"
I got the strangely disorienting feeling I'd been racially stereotyped, except I had no frame of reference for whether I should feel insulted or not.
"No, thank you," I said calmly, opting to project the 'unaffected martial master' stereotype in return. "Perhaps sometime later."
Jora shrugged, then turned her attention to Chul. "And you," she said pointedly, drifting closer and tilting her head. Her interest took on a very different shade as her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders. "We have wine from the Klethran foothills. Some olives from the unending groves, too, if that's your… taste."
I struggled to maintain my facade at the sylphan woman's rather obvious flirting, coupled with Chul's utter obliviousness as he looked her unabashedly in the eyes. Tension built for a moment as Jora waited for Chul to say something—maybe flirt back? Maybe take an order after all?
"I have no coin to offer, Lady Sylph. My belongings were lost in battle! Thus, I cannot order anything," Chul responded with utter bluntness. "Though I much appreciate your asking."
The sylph's intent evened out slightly as she drifted backward, her emotions somewhere between amused and disappointed. There was something uniquely honest about her and the other sylphs I'd met in this short time. The way their attention drifted back and forth unabashedly, things holding their interest only for minutes at a time…
"A copy of the latest decrees from the Great Eight would do well," I interrupted, drawing Jora's attention back to me. "We have been on the road for quite some time, and wish only for rest for now. Perhaps later I will be ready for food."
The woman nodded, snow-white hair flowing around her like a veil. "Of course! There's been a lot lately! Mostly talk of the Old World. The Asclepius' failed gambit to break the veil, all of that. We won the war, though! Lord Indrath even captured the traitorous bastards, too, all in one fell swoop!"
The Asclepius' attempt to break the veil? I thought, remembering the final battle in Xyrus. Within my heart, Inversion burned with anger. That's how the Indraths were playing it, then? Blaming the travesty on my family? I'd stopped all-out war at the cost of my life, and that act was being used to justify the false imprisonment of those I loved.
"That's amazing news," I said, showing nothing of my emotions. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"
"That's the most of it," she said leisurely, before pointing off toward the far end of the tent toward a device leaning against the crags of the gigantes' stone. "If you wish for water, you can get it there. We also have copies of the decrees there, too."
Her attention already shifting, Jora drifted past us, patting Chul's shoulder as she went. "If you need me, just holler! I'll be there in a jiffy."
Then she became the wind again, seeping down through the subtle cracks in the stones.
"Liars," Chul muttered angrily, staring at the crack in the crust where Jora had disappeared. "They slander the good name of the Asclepius, casting us in the same lot as the foul Vritra. It is unjust!"
Wren poked his face from my scarf-cloak again, careful to make sure his face was veiled from all potentially watching eyes. "It's basic politics, oaf," he muttered. "Jora has no clue of the truth, and you can't tell her either. Sucks, but it's what you've got."
Chul let out a breath, deflating like a great balloon and exhaling his anger with it. "This is true," he acknowledged. "Not all who follow bear the sins of their leaders. That is something I have learned. It is all so terribly complex."
Silence lingered between us with the weight of steel. Past memories of clashing steel, dying dwarves, dying friends resurfaced like a whale breaching the surface of my burning Sea.
"It is a whole mess, isn't it?" I muttered, looking down at my hands. "It would be so much easier if it were simple."
Chul shook his head, banishing old memories. "I must think of something else! To dwell is to die. The woman, she said the decrees were over yonder, yes? Mayhaps I shall retrieve some for us." Then he paused, thinking more. "She wished something of me. Her words and her eyes said different things. What did she mean?"
Wren looked incredulous. I never thought a little furred mammal's eyes could be so expressive, but the incredulity there was raw.
Before the titan could say something cynical, I coughed into my fist, getting the young asura's attention. Then I let my eyes deliberately drift toward two very specific asura at the far edge of the tent who were having a very enjoyable time. Chul followed my gaze, confused. A few heartbeats ticked by. Then it clicked.
"Ah, I see!" Lady Dawn's son exclaimed, his eyes wide with the joy of realization. Then the implications sank in, and his face flushed all the way to his ears. "Yes, yes. I see now. I, uh… Hmmm."
The phoenix blinked a few times, staring down at his hands as if he didn't know what they were for. I thought the interaction was pretty trivial, but the way Chul's intent swirled about him and his emotions churned told me it was very, very far from small for him.
"I think I should like some water," Chul finally said, standing up. "Yes. And I shall gather the decrees of the foul dragons, too."
Without a cue from me, Wren bounded from my scarf, quick as lightning, before hiding himself within Chul's chiton. "Can't let you say anything too revealing, oaf," he said sympathetically, an understanding there that I lacked. "Come on, get your sack of flesh moving. You never stop, remember?"
Chul let out a breath, then started off toward some small destiny.
Just in time. It seemed I'd finally caught up with the me of the future, because a couple of the dragons were finally approaching.
In the time since I'd begun interacting with asura, I'd gained respect for their power. Aurora, the Hearth, Sylvie, Taci, Windsom, Aldir, Agrona… Each of them radiated power in their own way. Whether they wished it or not, the races of asura bore an inherent power that could not be denied. A majesty that coursed through their veins.
The black-bearded captain of the dragons was no different. He had hair that wasn't so much lustrous as it was sharp, light purple eyes that seemed to glow in the low light, and the lithe movements of a man who had trained the same movements ten thousand times.
The other asura in this tent were powerful. It was in their natures as a race of near-gods. But even among the deities, warriors stood above and apart.
"Lord Yaksha," he said, watching me with unreadable lilac eyes, his chin upturned with a note of inborn arrogance. A ways away, the two shimmering silver twins stood at standby with their third member. Even without deliberately probing at their mana signatures, I knew that all of them were powerful, leagues beyond what Taci had been. "My name is Sarvash Matali, Captain serving beneath Charon Indrath, serving beneath Lord Indrath himself."
Why does he seem so familiar to me? I wondered, ensuring I remained seated. I can't quite put my finger on it.
And Clan Matali, not Indrath. That meant he wouldn't have Realmheart. Good.
"Greetings, Lord Sarvash," I offered, not moving from my meditative lotus pose. I remained utterly relaxed, unfazed by the intent focusing around me in a subtle display of power. "You know that I cannot give my name. Not unless it is earned."
Only the greatest weapons in history were allowed the privilege of a name. Such was the right of the Yaksha, to forge themselves into blades worthy of legendary names. And what use was a name for a weapon yet untempered?
The dragon, evidently, did not like that response. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and the music seemed to quiet around us, sounds and scents dimming beneath the weight of a displeased deity.
An impressive use of King's Force, but nothing compared to Aldir Thyestes.
"Things are dangerous in Epheotus nowadays," the man said sharply, locking his hands behind his back and staring me down. "It's our duty as soldiers to protect the commonfolk of the Great Eight. Regardless of your status as Yaksha, you are bound to answer questions. Where have you come from, and where do you go?"
I sensed Chul returning, and I was suddenly glad that Wren had hidden within the half-phoenix's cloak. I had the confidence that I could navigate us through this if we maintained a concerted effort.
"Of course. I have trained in seclusion for quite some time after an… impactful loss on my forging path." I resisted the urge to wince. The best way to sell a lie was with half-truths. It made the emotion I suppressed real. "I did battle with Lord Arjuna of Clan Promethes shortly after leaving seclusion. In the process, our weapons and most of our belongings were destroyed. I cannot provide identification beyond my word."
I kept my palms up, as if to emphasize the lack of visible weapons on my body. "Now we seek to have them reforged at Ecclesiah. But a time for reflection on my shortcomings is needed to progress, hence the decision to rest here for a time."
"A pantheon without a weapon," Sarvash said, a subtle hint of disdain there. "I'm not sure I can trust your story so simply, Yaksha. Lies and liars live in every crack of the Great Eight, and I cannot take you at your word alone. Recent incidents have mandated far higher security than normal. You understand?"
Recent incidents, like the complete and utter destruction of the Indrath Clan's acclorite mines. They were covering it up, I was certain. What other choice would they have? To admit that the dragons had been struck so close to home would undermine their rule.
But something else clicked as I thought of my frantic escape from the mines. Lilac eyes, dark hair, and an arrogant disdain? I finally knew why I'd found this dark dragon so familiar.
He was related to Vajrakor somehow. The very lifeforce and mana that sustained me now had once belonged to a heart that beat oh-so-similarly. But that didn't matter now. I had a very, very slim margin for error, especially as the dragon's intent coiled around me like scaled claws and constricting wings. I pulled together what I'd gauged of this man's wants, his emotions, the circumstances…
It's a show of force, I thought, weaving myself through this dragon's intent. He was trying to gauge my mana core now, but with my intent woven through not just that of the great gigantes, but a dozen other asura, it was like trying to cup molten gold in raw fingers. He's gauging me, testing my response to his authority.
I waited for the dragon to exhaust his attempts at detecting me. When he realized he could not sense me, could not grasp anything of what I was, his brows furrowed in consternation.
He had Vajrakor's fear, too. The fear of the unknown. That was what I needed to use.
"If you wish to take me into custody, Lord Sarvash, I would be duty-bound to battle," I said severely. Not defiantly, merely stating a matter of fact. Then I affected a pause, for the first time allowing a sliver of contemplation to cross my face. "I do have some proof of my identity. But to reveal it may be a breach of my trial."
There, the bait was laid. Whether the dragon took it or pressed for a fight would decide the future for us. Another wild gamble atop all the others. I thought that I'd gauged this dragon well enough, the kind that wanted to feel powerful more than truly exert it. If he was anything like Vajrakor, and followed through on the intent I felt…
Chul, who had been returning, suddenly looked to the side. The great table, where a half-dozen asura lounged and played some card game, was rife with some sort of disagreement. An asura—I assumed they were a hamadryad from their deep ebony skin, corded, mossy hair, and strangely flowing green lifeforce—was pointing accusingly at the other party they'd been playing, clearly upset.
She was a phoenix.A young woman with pristine features stared back, defiant. Her smokey hair—indicating how close she was to her next Sculpting—flared like a campfire's sudden blaze, indignant against whatever the hamadryad was saying. Mana sparked around them, and I was worried that a fight would break out. One of the argent dragon twins was moving towards them, sensing the coming danger.
And Chul, evidently, had picked a side. He stepped forward, leaning over the table near the phoenix and staring challengingly at the hamadryad, two towering trunks of muscle squaring off.
And it looked like a fight was about to break out already.