assistirfilmes Chapter 225: The Ascender and the Sorceress
Chapter 225: The Ascender and the Sorceress
Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!
Toren Daen
Another figure of flame slowly coalesced across from the Ascender. The little figurine of fire affected a severe and calculated air, her chin turned up and a mask covering her face as well. The Sorceress stared imperiously at the Ascender as they faced each other.
“Now, those among you in the crowd probably think you know where this is going,” I said, sparing a glance up at the watching audience, “it’s a really, really basic story, I guess, as far as these sorts of things go. But I implore you to listen anyway.”
The Ascender–formed of solid fire and burning brightly–went through a dozen familiar martial forms. Little figurines of flame popped into existence, mirroring aether beasts as they charged at the man of heat. The spectacle was something to behold.
Barth’s control of his golems was supernatural, clearly honed over many decades to a precision point. When I watched him control them and make his little play, I wondered if he was a silver core mage from the level of skill.
But I? I was a white core mage. The world itself rushed to respond to my barest whims, and organic casting was beyond instinctual. This showed clearly in the great dance of the Ascender as they wielded a thin saber of plasma, striking out and felling aether beast after aether beast. Slowly, my little demonstration grew in size and scope, extending out past the little field Barth had conjured. The figures grew and grew as the awestruck crowd stepped away from the solid constructs, each nearly lifelike.
The earth rose a bit from the ground, creating a slight stage as someone else used their magic. I shot a thankful look at Barth. His grin was so wide you’d thought he’d just won the lottery as he watched me flex my skills.
He really does love stories, I thought, sensing his intent in a way I never had been able to before. I’ll have to make this one worth remembering.
“The Ascender was a master of the blade and deadly with his magics,” I finally said, allowing my voice to travel with a touch of sound magic. “There was no beast he could not kill; no monster that could bar his path. Up and up and up he went, as all ascenders do, through the Relictombs.”
A tower of fire rose from the cobblestones, twisting and winding as I exerted my will over the forming energies. It rose like a spear to the heavens, drawing gasps of awe and surprise from all present. In tune, almost without having to ask me, Barth conjured his own tower within my fiery construct, giving it definition and detail I couldn’t manage with my flames. We worked together, he and I, in this little display of showmanship.
“In Alacrya, we don’t have dungeons,” I said, stepping out from behind Barth’s little stand and toward the stage. It was around three feet off the ground, and the tower on top stretched to nearly four times my height. “Instead, we grind our mettle against the unending challenges of the Relictombs. To fight and battle within brings glory to your Blood, and one hones their edge and prowess through countless trials.”
I couldn’t exactly model the Relictombs, seeing as how they were a nigh endless connection of pocket dimensions linked together: but a tower seemed fitting. And considering the awe-struck intent of the mages around me and the enthralled looks from the many people I was performing for, I assumed I was on the right track.
With the barest iota of will, the Ascender figure—just about as tall as my shins—stepped into the tower of earth and fire. Little applications of sound magic mimicked the roars of beasts and the clashing of steel inside as the conjured puppet rose and rose, the windows of the circular tower flickering with mimed spellfire. I absorbed the gasps of the crowd as I stood off to the side, sensing more and more people crowded around. Barth gave a throaty chuckle as he moved to stand beside me, two performers moving as one.
I smiled, the edges of my eyes crinkling as I felt the heartbeats of these dwarves, men, and elves slowly sink into tune as they were absorbed by the wondrous display. It made me think of when I’d played music with Korsted, when individuality drained away into something greater.
I snapped my fingers, and the tower melted apart, flowing like candlewax to the stones. Without a moment’s hesitation, Barth allowed his conjured spell to crumble to the stage floor, too. The fiery Ascender tumbled, rolled along the ground, and came up warily, fiery eyes looking around in fear.
“Except,” I said quietly, my eyes glinting as I let them roam over the crowds, “Things are never as they seem in Alacrya. The shadows hold trials of their own, not just the Relictombs.”
And from the smoke of Barth’s conjured rubble, something large and looming rose. With a push of my regalia, the stones lifted, forming a mocking, twisted grin as it strung itself out malevolently. Even as I stared at it, I felt something like bile surge angrily in the back of my throat. The massive serpent of sand hissed with malevolence, a shadow cast over the Ascender that made his light dim.
“There was a monster too great for even the Ascender. A serpent whose fangs were too sharp; whose venom stung too deep. And that serpent was crafty and intelligent. It knew precisely where it needed to sink those fangs to bring its adversary low.”
I exhaled a shuddering breath as I watched the Ascender slowly back away from the massive, flaming serpent. And behind the conjured snake, the bodies of countless innocents slowly sizzled away. Barth’s intent shifted as he created a dozen tiny gravestones from the stage, his emotional high from earlier at finding a new story whittling away.
Because he’d sensed by now that this story wasn’t just any. It was personal. Real.
I looked back at the crowd, meeting the eyes of as many as I could.
But It was hard sometimes. It was hard not to lay the actions of everyone else at my feet as I changed the future, and it was hard to find a place that fit the puzzle piece that was Toren Daen.
I remembered the depths of the Central Cathedral. Where Greahd died because of me; because I called attention to her. And I remembered the yawning intent of Skarn and Hornfels Earthborn, each blaming me. Would they have lived without me?
“I’m afraid that I don’t belong,” I forced out, struggling to say the words. “And I’m afraid that… that because I don’t belong… I’ll hurt everyone I want to help. Because I want to help so, so much, Seris.”
Seris shifted slightly, no doubt feeling the undercurrent of my emotions as my memories drew them to the surface. The truth of my fears radiated across my intent and into the air as a song in and of themselves, sinking claws deep into my beating heart. For the first time, the Scythe knew all I kept hidden.
Seris watched me with a sad, crestfallen expression on her face. And then, she was moving forward, wrapping me in a slight embrace.
The Scythe was a small woman. As she pressed her face into the strong lines of my shoulder, she might as well have been a willow branch before a mighty oak. But she felt far, far larger in that moment.
It somehow felt more… Intimate than our earlier kiss, as I returned the gentle embrace. When she finally pulled away from me, I struggled to meet her eyes, feeling as if I’d thrust a great burden onto the Scythe’s slim shoulders.
“I would never have known,” Seris said quietly, nuzzling closer as she savored my body heat. “So desperately, you play your music. So desperately, you feel everything. Because you want…”
She trailed off, looking up at me as understanding—sweet, beautiful, wonderful understanding—radiated from the crests and waves of her intent. I released a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding as I stared down at her.
“You give me hope, Toren,” Seris said, leaning her head against my chest. I exhaled, trying to center my thoughts as I held her small frame against my body. “Did you know that? Even with all this fear of yours.”
I remained quiet, gazing up at the moon above. And as I recalled my fears, I imagined them as a two-sided coin. On one side was the gripping doubt and fear, cultivated in each step I’d traveled through this war. On the other…
“You give me hope, too,” I finally replied, allowing that emotion to flow into the sky.
“How so?” Seris’ quiet voice asked, muffled slightly from how she nuzzled against me like a contented cat. “I want to know more of your secrets, Toren. Fears are nice to know. They’re human, as you said. But they’re not everything.”
My brow furrowed slightly as I rubbed circles on Seris’ back. “When I first came to this world, my vision for the future always ended with Nico,” I said honestly. “I need to kill him, to stop the descent of the Legacy–but I saw no path after. Everything just… ended, at that point. I think I expected everything to go up in flames.”
I sensed Seris’ eyes on me as I traced the constellations far above, the wind buffeting my shrouded wings, yet no breeze whisked away our warmth. “A bold plan,” the Sorceress admonished playfully. “And you were barely a mage a year past, were you not? Fascinating, that a Scythe has decided to grace you as her consort in such a short time.”
I chuckled slightly, tracing the Struggling Ascender as the constellation chased the Basilisk’s Tail. “Except that wasn’t part of the plan,” I said honestly. “Neither was Aurora, or Sevren, or Naereni and all the others I care for. And now I look forward to what will come of my days after Nico. Days beyond not just the Scythe, but the Sovereigns, too. It gives me hope that there is a place where I can belong.”
We stayed like that, enjoying each other’s company for an indeterminate infinity. I allowed myself to imagine it. Already I’d set this world down a different track than the one I knew. I could lament and fight against the future all I wanted, but I needed to learn to act like the Scythe in my arms. To take each blow in stride and push forward. I’d need to work out some sort of plan with Seris to ensure Nico’s death, too.
Even as I held Seris close, I felt my mind trickle down long-worn paths and worries for a bit. This time, though, there was a glimmering silver lining that traced my thoughts, giving each plan and idea a bit of hope. Both sides of the coin of fear reflected the light.
But then something in the air shifted.
I felt it in the mana first, like a dozen questing tendrils snaking across the sky. On instinct, I looked up once more: and I nearly gasped in awe.
The Aurora Constellate weaved its way across the sky. Like curtains of delicate light, the pale greens and bright scarlets flared, yet each cascading ribbon was transparent as the most fragile fabric. Each swung like a graceful dancer, charting paths across the atmosphere.
I knew not how long I stared up at the lights, quietly in disbelief. It had been a long time since I’d accepted my place in this new world, but I felt a dreadful uncertainty sneak its way into my psyche again.
Because it simply couldn’t be true, could it? The skies crisscrossed by magic that came only once every few years, with a woman that shone like the moon itself in my arms? The surreal nature of it all washed over me in that instant, and I wondered–for the second time since I’d awoken in this world–if it was all a dream.
“Seris,” I said quietly, gently distancing myself from the Scythe, “back in the ballroom so long ago, I failed to ask you something.”
My wings swept behind me as I bowed slightly, mirroring my position earlier in the night as I stared meaningfully into Seris’ eyes. I held an inviting palm aloft, my fingers cold without her touch. “Will you dance with me?”
“Trying to be romantic again,” Seris said, smiling softly as she took my hand, squeezing lightly. “Are you going to dazzle and awe me with dances from another world?”
I shook my head lightly. “I’m afraid I don’t know that much, Seris,” I said honestly, “but I’m sure I won’t disappoint.”
It turned out that I was a poor dancer, even in the skies. Seris clearly knew every move better than I did, but her subtle prodding ensured I didn’t step on her metaphorical toes.
But that didn’t really matter. Beneath the Constellate, all my thoughts of the war drifted away. My tensions and fears of Agrona and the looming battles to come became less than afterthoughts as I allowed myself to relax for this brief moment.
Indeed, the stars weren’t so far out of reach.