assistirfilmes Chapter 130: The Matron of the Denoirs
Chapter 130: The Matron of the Denoirs
Toren Daen
Finding a fast route back to Aensgar was far less trouble than I expected. Mawar, Sevren, and I walked on foot for a short time until we found a secluded village along the banks of the Redwater. After flashing a sizable pouch of coins and the Denoir insignia, one of the men had been more than happy to sell us three of his leashed reptilian mana beasts.
It was only my superb balance honed over the months of training that kept me from falling off as the reptilian creatures darted along the road in a twining, back-and-forth way that was not good for the stomach. I had a feeling that we’d overpaid the man in that village for his animals.
The events at Mardeth’s base loomed over everyone present, though all for different reasons. Mawar had taken to wearing a hood to cover her face from any travelers, and Sevren had done the same. As the other two began trying to keep their identities more secret, so did I.
After several days of travel, Aensgar finally loomed in our sight. The towering keeps and massive fortifications blocked out the rising sun, our mounts hissing in annoyance as they were forced into the shade.
Before we reached the gates, Mawar turned to Sevren and me nervously. She opened her mouth, clearly wanting to say something. The powerful retainer was nowhere to be seen: only someone who had just lost the penultimate fight of their life.
“Our lips are sealed about what happened in that cavern,” I said quietly, suspecting what she was about to ask. I chanced a glance at the solemn Denoir heir next to me.
She nodded stiltedly. Truthfully, there wasn’t much she could do to protest. I’d grown even more powerful since our last duel, and I suspected she knew it. Her own strength was insufficient to force my silence. “If you want any sort of payment for doing so…” she started. “Materials? Training? Money?”
I blinked in confusion as Aurora sighed sadly. She thinks you mean to blackmail her, the phoenix conveyed over our bond. So she is offering hush money to motivate you.
I sighed, again cursing this political system. “If you hadn’t rushed in to hold off Mardeth for a while, I wouldn’t have been able to save Sevren from the vicar,” I said honestly, waving my hand dismissively. “Call it even, yeah?”
Mawar looked at me uncertainly, before dismounting her lizard beast. She handed me the reigns, gave me one last look, and turned to go.
“Mawar,” I said, interrupting her as she took a step. She paused, turning to look at me with uncertain scarlet eyes. “You decide your own worth,” I said, hoping she would one day believe my words. “Not those around you.”
The retainer nodded stiffly. I knew she didn’t believe me, at least not in the depths of her soul. But as the young Vritra-blooded mage covered herself in darkness and bounded up Aensgar’s tall walls, I hoped one day she would see the truth. I didn’t know how this would play out in the future, but I hoped things could improve for the woman. We weren’t friends; not exactly. But we weren’t enemies either.
Sevren and I sold our mounts outside the city, and from the cash we made back, I knew for sure that the Denoir heir had far overpaid for them. We stealthily maneuvered our way through the city, carefully making our way to the Aensgar Ascender’s Association. Once we were inside and nearing the Ascension Portals, our swift walk slowed.
Sevren turned to me as we reached the massive portals. “If you want to prove to my family that I sent you, then you’re going to need this,” he said, handing me a deep gold medallion inscribed with the Denoir insignia. “And this,” he added, giving me a piece of paper he’d torn from his notebook.
I read over the note. It was an abbreviated description of where I needed to go through the estate to reach his room, and where exactly in his room he left his… I squinted, looking at the words.
I looked up at Sevren, raising a skeptical brow. “A mana-tuned fluid resonance dissector toolkit?” I asked sarcastically. “That might be the most pretentious name for something I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t make the names,” he said with a huff, turning tiredly toward the purple pane. “I’m going to change my base of operations to that Town Zone you always manage to pop into. Meet me there when you’re done.” I could just barely feel the mana react as he used the spellform on his chest to alter the portal’s destination. I covertly glanced around, but nobody seemed to be focusing on the two of us for too long. Even though there was no visual representation of Sevren changing the destination, one couldn’t be sure. He glanced back at me as his heartfire fluctuated under the strain. He hesitated long and hard with his next words. “If my family refuses to help you further, tell them to remember Abigale,” he finished with a bitter tinge.
I winced at his words as he finally stepped through the portal. I had the feeling that a reminder of the Denoir’s old tutor would be like a slap in the face to any questions they might have.
Are you ready for this, Toren? Aurora asked.
Ready as I’ll ever be, I thought with a sigh, before stepping through the portal.
—
I’d made a distinct effort to touch up my appearance before approaching the Denoir Relictombs estate. I wore my nice maroon vest that prominently displayed the reforged sigil of Blood Daen on the breast and back. The symbol of a dagger through a flaming heart was accentuated by orange filigree running along the trim. The feathered brooch-shaped djinn relic was pinned on the opposite side, adding a splash of bronze.
I wore dark, breathable slacks and a lighter dress shirt that was rimmed with orange lining. My strawberry-blonde hair was tied back into a short tail that barely reached my collar.
Oath was sheathed at my side, but it was more for formality than anything else.
I stared up at the tall metal gate that barred my path. A solid stone wall wrapped the entirety of the estate, blocking me from peering inward. And from the wards I could feel, they also dampened any attempted mana sense within. I palmed the golden insignia Sevren had handed me, then stepped forward and raised my hand to press a button that presumably acted as a sort of doorbell.
And so I was startled when a voice came from the side of a mana-powered artifact, emanating out evenly. “Toren of Named Blood Daen,” a stoic male voice said. “State your business with Highblood Denoir.”
I blinked, focusing on the artifact that had emitted the noise. Beside it, I saw a glassy surface that reminded me of a security camera. Could it be?
I held up Sevren’s insignia to the glassy panel. “I’ve come on behalf of my friend, Sevren Denoir,” I said evenly. “He needs me to retrieve a toolkit of his.”
The speaker was silent for a second. “Please wait for a moment, Lord Daen,” that same voice said again, though far more respectful this time. “We shall send someone to fetch you.”
I crossed my arms, waiting for a minute. Before long, a pair of mages left the estate, walking in steady strides towards the gate. I turned my head toward the door as I sensed two exceptionally powerful thrumming heartfires meandering their way toward the walls.
I looked at the metal barring my path, hearing the thump-thump-thump of lifeforce beyond. The doors opened wide, revealing two mages waiting for me.
A brute of a man stood head and shoulders taller than his companion. He had crimson hair cut choppily, and his face seemed perpetually set in a scowl. His sculpted shoulders looked like they took personal offense at the existence of doorways as a concept. A large mace was strapped to his side.
The other man immediately seemed more welcoming than the mace-wielder. His brown hair was combed neatly back, and a thin sword rested leisurely at his waist.
“Hello,” the brown-haired swordsman said. “My name is Arian, and this lug of a mage is Taegan. We’re going to be escorting you inside, Lord Daen.”
The two mages who guarded Caera on her ascents through the Relictombs, I thought as my lips evened out. I stepped forward. “Is it standard procedure to send the strongest mages you have to escort someone to pick up a…” I fished in my pocket, for the paper Sevren had given me. Taegan visibly narrowed his eyes in suspicion, while the only reaction from Arian was for him to gently brush the pommel of his sword. When I retrieved the paper, Arian relaxed. “A mana-tuned fluid resonance dissector toolkit?” I read aloud.
I proffered the paper out to Arian, hoping he’d see it as a sign of goodwill. For some reason, they seemed skeptical of me from the get-go.
I’ve been running around with their heir for months, I thought, And now I finally show up unannounced bearing his insignia. They might think I stole it from him.
Arian took the paper with a nonchalant air, then skimmed over it, his eyebrows rising with every word. He looked back at me when he was done. “Well, I can certainly say our friend Sevren Denoir wrote this,” he said with a hint of amusement, though he did not return the paper. “Come on.”
“Could I have that back?” I asked firmly. It was my only insurance that proved Sevren had sent me to do this.
Arian shrugged, then handed the paper back. “We’re going to need to see your weapon, though,” he said, his eyes darting to Oath at my side.
I felt an instant flash of hesitation. Was I being corralled into some sort of hostage scenario?
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It is merely for appearance’s sake, Aurora assured me. You could have a wealth of weapons stashed in your dimension ring, yet they do not ask to
A woman stood in the doorway, standing in a stance that looked like she was ready to delve right into a fight. Her attire was nothing like the Denoir matron across from me. Instead of a dress, she wore formfitting pants and clothes that seemed streamlined for combat. Long navy hair stretched to the midpoint of her back. Her face was flushed from exercise.
“Mother,” Caera Denoir said, her breath slightly uneven, “I heard we have news from my brother.”