Chapter 86: The Limping Return

Toren Daen

Our journey toward where the Unblooded Party had gone was a slow, fitful process. Several times I had to take short rests, fighting off the need to sleep. My leg ached like the devil, forcing me to rely on the Denoir heir's assistance to even move.

As we slowly moved up the floors of the building, I made sure to focus on my hearing, trying to listen for any shuffling corpses.

To my surprise, I heard none. Wherever we went, all we were greeted with were comatose undead, laying unresponsively on the floor. From the lingering mana around them and lack of wounds to the head or heart, I knew this hadn't been the work of the Unblooded Party and the others who had come through here before.

"What did this?" I asked quietly, unnerved by the abnormal display.

Sevren peered down at one of the corpses, its eyes open wide and unblinking. "After I ended that strange corpse that was about to kill you, all the nearby undead started acting strangely. Running into walls. Writhing on the ground. Or simply standing still, staring off into nothing. I didn't see what happened to them after that, but if I were to guess…"

Once Promise had speared the flesh titan, the thing that had been Alun's wife had pulled itself out of the sordid wreckage, ready to finish the job. But it seemed that whatever effect it leveraged over the masses of undead didn't just break at its second death. It had a catastrophic domino effect on those under its influence, not unlike how the death of an acidbeam hivemother crippled all the hornets connected to its hivemind.

I looked down at one of the zombies a ways ahead of us. It appeared to be a woman, but the thinning, patchy hair that seemed to be threaded through its decaying scalp could only tell me so much. The body was missing an arm. 

I hadn't actually been able to recall much from the aftermath of that fight besides the pain.

Thoughts of that battle made me think of the aftermath, and the very-much-awake beast representing my basilisk blood. I felt a shiver of fear coat my skin in goosebumps as the thing pushed against my mind.

I didn't know what would happen because of this. Would the thing go back to sleep, returning to the status quo? Or was this permanent damage, caused by my recklessness and inability to trust Lady Dawn?

I swallowed, turning away from the corpse.

But as Sevren and I walked, I was surprised as the man slowed. Considering I had an arm slung around his shoulder, his body the only thing helping me forward, I was forced to halt my pace as well.

"What is it?" I asked, worried. I hadn't detected anything amiss, but Sevren Denoir had a strangely disturbed expression on his face. "What do you sense."

"I don't sense anything," he whispered, his eyes focused on the same undead I'd stared at before. "It's just… I think I recognize that body."

I felt my breathing ratched up. "What?" I said, some of my repressed fears about this zone rising to the surface once more. Alun's wife had been ripped away from the Twinfrosts, only to return as that thing.  "You saw her die in this zone?"

"No," Sevren replied confidently, albeit slightly disturbed. "But I recognize her clothing and what's left of her hair. Look, see the eroded symbol on her gambeson? That's from Blood Hoarcrust. I saw this woman die in a convergence zone a few months back. Her team left her body where she fell, as is tradition."

I blinked, looking down at the body. This complicated my initial suspicions about how this zone got its monsters. After seeing what was left of Alun's wife–I was thinking of calling it a commander–I had the niggling suspicion that the undead who threw themselves at us in waves were sourced directly from those fallen in this zone.

But on closer scrutiny, that didn't make sense. If so many ascenders–easily thousands –had vanished in the last few weeks, there would have been a public panic from the Ascender's Association. It would be something too big to cover up.

But if the bodies were taken–or maybe even recreated–from those who died in other zones of the Relictombs?

"Are you sure?" I asked, almost tripping as we carefully maneuvered around the prone bodies. I'd regained enough of my mana to maintain a weak, close-clinging sound-dampening shroud around the two of us. "I mean, it could simply be a look-alike."

"I killed the beast that ripped her arm off," he said in reply, silencing any further questions. "That's her."

I looked forward once more. At this rate, it would take several hours more to reach the base marked as the Aensgar Exiles' hideaway, which Darrin had told me he would retreat towards.

I could only hope the rest of our trek would be this simple.

—

Our speed picked up over the next few hours as I recovered my mana. Gradually, I began to use my magic as a splint for my wounded leg, using the sheathed Oath as a makeshift cane. As we progressed, we eventually ran into moving corpses once more. Evidently, the range of effect the commander undead had over the nearby corpses was limited. Once we exited that sphere, our caution ratcheted up a dozen notches.

But each movement still hurt. I was feeling phantom aches from my core, echoes of the hell I'd barely escaped with Sevren's help. As the hours dragged on, I realized with unnerving clarity that there was no familiar buildup of mana around my wounds that preluded my healing factor. I knew that my ability to heal slowed down significantly in the wake of using my Will, but this was something different. Instead of a drastic reduction in speed, there was simply nothing at all.

Eventually, Sevren and I started seeing traces of people's passing. Remaining steel and earthen constructs jutted out here and there. Signs of quick battles and spells digging furrows into the ground dotted our path.

I felt my spirits rise at these signs.

And finally, Sevren and I reached the outskirts of the Aensgar Exiles' base.

The Exiles had set themselves up in a similar position to the Twinfrost party: at the top of a building, with defenses instated all around.

I heard them before I ever saw them.

"--And you just let them stay! " I heard a familiar voice cry. "Now we've lost our best chance to escape! And with what happened to Shaela, who knows if we'll have to–"

"What did you expect me to do?!" Darrin's voice–surprisingly angry –cut the other off. "Force them to follow? We were going to be overwhelmed! Somebody had to watch our backs!"

"So that's all you have to say?" Dima replied. "You couldn't help it? It was out of your control?"

"That's not what I said, Dima!" Darrin cried. "What should I have done? Tell me! Why do I keep failing? "

There was a beat of silence.

Sevren chose that moment to knock on the door. I immediately felt half a dozen mana signatures ramp up in response.

I sent an uncertain look at the Denoir heir.

"I didn't want to listen to that anymore," he said with a sigh. "Better let them know we're alive, eh?"

The door opened the barest of inches, a pair of eyes staring out. They widened when they saw us. "It's Lord Denoir and Daen!" they called, shuffling back. "They're alive!"

"Don't open that door!" Darrin's harsh voice thundered over. "Look at their eyes! Are they still human? "

I cleared my throat. "I'm disappointed you thought I'd die so easily Darrin," I said, amplifying my voice slightly with magic. "But I really, really need a nap."

There was a commotion on the other side of the door before it was flung open. Darrin stared back, a disbelieving cast on his face. His normally neat exterior had frayed. One of the edges of his shirt was untucked from his pants and his hair looked like it had been sent through a hurricane.

He scrutinized us for a moment before smiling shakily. "Come on then, men! Can't leave you out in the cold."

Sevren helped me on, one arm still draped around his shoulder. The steady click-click-click of Oath's sheath on the tiled floor heralded my entry into the Exiles' little base.

Taking a quick glance around, I was relieved to see there were no missing people. A few had more bandages on than I last remembered, but no missing limbs–or people–that I could see.

Dima was giving me a complicated look, standing where most were sitting or simply out cold on bedrolls. I gave her a slow nod, which she returned hesitantly.

I was surprised as another person hurriedly approached. Jana had set her shield to the side, and her eyes were creased with worry. "Toren, are you hurt?" She looked uncertainly at my leg, noting the seeping bandages. "Come on, I'll help you to a bedroll."

Sevren moved aside as Jana hastily draped my arm around her shoulder. Before she could move, however, I called back to Sevren. "Could you tell Darrin about…"

"I've got it, Toren. Take a rest. You look like you'll collapse."

I nodded, allowing Jana to pull me away. She moved me to one of the available bedrolls. I almost tripped with how fast she was moving, hissing through my teeth as I put too much weight on my leg.

Jana stalled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"It's fine," I said tiredly. I had been up and moving for nearly sixteen hours, and with my constant battling, exhausting assimilation process, I felt like I was fighting off a coma. "I'm not at my best," I added shakily.

The shield paused before the bedroll. "Well, we aren't always," she said quietly. She let me down gently onto the roll. "You were kind to me when I was weak. It is only fair to repay the favor."

I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable meeting the earnest woman's eyes. Instead, I focused on something I knew. "Your bandage needs to be changed," I said, noting how it had been soaked through.

She looked down at the stump of her hand. "With all that was happening, it must've slipped my mind." She looked up at me again. "Are you sure you're fine? Do you need anything?"

"Just rest," I lied. "Thank you."

The shield hovered around my roll for a few seconds longer, seeming uncertain, before standing up and marching woodenly toward where Sevren was talking with Darrin, Dima, and Hraedel.

The back of my skull hit the sad excuse for a pillow the bedroll had. But despite my utter exhaustion, I was unable to force myself to sleep. The events of the last few hours replayed in my mind.

Especially the trust I'd shown Sevren Denoir. I did not know if it was the wisest choice. In fact, the cool, utilitarian side of my mind said it most certainly wasn't.

But that trust opened up other wounds I'd been forcing to the side. If I could trust Sevren Denoir after his betrayal–practically a stranger–how could I ignore the other?

As if sensing my thoughts, a small, barren emotion traced its way over my mental tether. Just as I'd felt it right before asking Sevren for his help with assimilating, that bit of worry and hope threaded over my Bond's connection with me.

Well? I sent, feeling tired yet still defiant. What do you want to say?

The Unseen World washed over my vision once again. Lady Dawn knelt nearby in seiza position, her heels tucked under her thighs. Her hands were clasped over her torso, and the asura seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes.

"What I did was wrong," she said slowly. "I know any attempts to atone will be insufficient. I think of my time in Agrona's dungeons, and what that stolen time took from me. I never saw my son grow, or assist him in his life. And I think of what you must have lost in your own world." She turned her head away. "Of what I took."

I exhaled forcibly, cursing my current weakness. I wanted to punch something. To release my anger as a physical force. Yet my limbs only lethargically answered my call as I slammed a fist into the tiles beside my body.

You knew the pain it would cause, I thought scathingly. Yet did it anyway.

Lady Dawn was silent as I simmered. I wanted to degrade her. To hurl insults, calling her sincerity into question. Here was another lying deity, no better than Kezess. No better than Agrona.

But I couldn't. I had felt her emotion–pure as any mountain spring–flow over our bond. Her regret was true. Her desire to mend our bond burned was as bright as any star in the sky.

"It's easier for we asura to degrade you as lesser," Lady Dawn said, drawing my attention back to her. "Makes it easy to justify lording over you. Using you as we wish for our own ends." The phoenix stilled, looking down at her hands. Her feathery hair cloaked her face. "I speak as if I am better than the High Sovereign. As if I am separate from his immorality and cruelty. Yet I see in myself the same callousness. The same willingness to forfeit life, no matter how small, for my own ends."

My breath caught. It was my turn to look away from the phoenix now, the sincerity and pain in her words hurting something in me I didn't know could be wounded.

I can't be your bond, I thought shakily. My fists clenched, my fingernails digging divots into my palm. I felt blood making my hand slick, but the pain was distant. Every single second I'm in this zone, I'm forced to look at what I've lost. The Relictombs grabs me by the scalp and peels my eyelids open, forcing me into the agony of looking at something infinitely close to what I mourn for. Yet I'll never have it. And then I turn inward and find the reason for this in my closest ally.

Lady Dawn wilted. A long, painful silence stretched between us. I stared up at the ceiling, counting the drywall tiles in a vain attempt to ignore the clenching in my chest.

"It may be possible to sever our bond," Lady Dawn said, though the words were stone. "If that is what you wish. I do not know what will happen to your soul if we try, however. Our connection runs deeper than flesh. To cut that would be to carve out a part of what makes you whole."

I looked back at the phoenix. And what would that mean for you?

"I suspect I would finally find the Beyond," she said solemnly.

I kept my eyes trained on the asura for a few moments before rolling over and turning my back on her.

I don't want that, I finally thought, putting words to my emotions. For all you've done, I can't lose you, too. But I can't look at you right now. Every time I see a skyscraper or a vending machine or a simple traffic light, seeing you beside it burns me more than anything. I just… I took a shuddering breath. I need time. Please.

I didn't know what this conversation meant. I didn't know how much time I needed to accept Lady Dawn back into my life. But right now, her presence only served to remind me of what I'd lost.

"I understand," the phoenix said quietly, a bit of inflection returning to her voice. "I shall wait for when you are ready to accept me."

The Unseen World washed away from my vision, leaving me in the darkness of the office building once more. I ruminated on my new life as my consciousness slipped from my mind like sand.