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Discordant Note | TBATE

Lady Dawn expected to die. After casting her soul to the wind, taking a one-in-a-million chance to escape the wretched dungeons of Taegrin Caelum, the once-caged songbird of the Asclepius wishes nothing more than to find her Hearth and warn them of the coming danger. Instead, she’s found herself a shade, anchored to a young man who knows far too much—and with far less hope than she’d started with. Toren Daen, for his part, only wanted to make it home safely. Now he’s in a world taken straight from the page, questioning what is real and what is fiction, and scrambling to make something worthwhile. And with his foresight, there’s only one way that Toren can see to keep this new world safe: prevent the descent of the Legacy. But those in power will not make it easy: Nico Sever is in a league of power all on his own, and Arthur Leywin bears the burden of Fate a continent away. In this familiar-yet-not world of mana, monsters, and looming deities, any misstep along the roads of Alacrya and the High Sovereign’s Dominion could lead to a Fate worse than death. But what is death to a phoenix? With a burning secret in his mana core, knowledge of the future, and a maelstrom of fears and questions, Toren might just survive to be more than what Lady Dawn expected him to be. He might just survive to waylay the encroaching tide of war and death in the proxy war between raging asura clans. More than all of that, he might just live. (Semi-SI into Alacrya. Updates Tuesday/Saturday.) (Cover art commissioned by @_aphora_)

TMKnight · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
266 Chs

Chapter 204: To Cleanse for the Future

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Tessia Eralith

"You are going to show us your lower back," I said with gritted teeth. "And if you don't, I'm going to thrust my rapier through your neck."

Norgan stared up at me. He was calm: far too calm. That was the first thing I'd noticed about him when we'd first met: he was nervous, yes, but not about battle. Anyone with the point of a sword to their throat should show some sign of fear. A bit of hesitation or anxiety. Yet Norgan was unerringly serious as he stared up at me, still crouched by the corpse of the boss monster.

I'd been on high alert regarding the self-proclaimed fire augmenter the moment he'd been assigned to our squad. It was something of a bad habit of mine: growing up in Zestier amidst the royalty of my people had conditioned me to always watch for those with ill intentions. Every handshake could carry a poisoned needle; every smile could hide knives. 

Yet this Norgan wasn't like the spies I'd met before. Especially with how he'd spoken around the fire about the woman he loved… I couldn't bring myself to believe that to be a falsehood.

After all, I allowed myself to think for a moment as I stared down at who I was certain was an Alacryan spy sent after me, the way he described his lover was too real.

Afraid to love… That described Art perfectly. And perhaps that understanding had made me let my guard down around the man.

I would have denied Captain Drogo's command to go down the tunnel to scout otherwise.

That trust lasted until the ceiling had been destroyed, cutting us off from support. There were only a few ways a random mana beast could have acquired one of Stannard's beast cores, and the logical conclusion was that the person assigned to protect Stannard had swiped one when he wasn't looking.

"I told Darvus and Stannard this before," Norgan said evenly, "but I have scars along my back. I don't want to show them. I already proved to the others I'm not an Alacryan with my organic magic."

I pressed my rapier just a bit deeper. He was lying. I was sure of that now as I stared into his burning orange eyes. His tell was remarkably similar to Art's giveaway–he refused to look me entirely in the eye.

But I didn't want to kill him. No, we knew so little about our enemy. The only worthwhile prisoners the Council had were Elder Rahdeas and Retainer Uto–and while Uto had been giving valuable information, this spy was likely important as well.

I felt the edges of my lip curl up as I caught the man in a trap. "The knowledge that the Alacryans get their magic from runes is classified, Norgan. That isn't known to anyone but the highest members of the council." I paused. "And presumably our enemies as well."

We'd have to figure out how Norgan–the spy–used organic, Dicathian magic when we took him in.

Darvus and Caria, who at first had displayed shock and dismay at my threat towards Norgan, now shifted into expressions of anger and betrayal respectively. Both moved to flank Norgan's other side, making sure he was entirely surrounded. From the side, Stannard's beast core launcher kept him pinned down from range.

Norgan's gaze slowly panned around him, taking in the hostile nature of our squad. When his eyes settled back on me, they had a resigned cast to them.

"The hard way it is, then," he said, sounding tired.

I caught something flashing toward me from my peripheral vision, my instincts blaring suddenly in warning. In a moment of panic, I tried to drive the point of my rapier forward, attempting to skewer the spy where he knelt.

But before I could act, two glimmering white spots of mana flared around my body. I was suddenly pushed backward forcefully, my rapier leaving Norgan's throat as I was caught off guard by this strange flare of magic.

The enemy's dagger streaked toward him, outlined in a flare of white as I barely ducked it. Norgan surged upward, catching his weapon as it returned to him. In the same movement, he spun on his heel, hurling his dagger point-first toward Stannard's incoming low-power incendiary round.

The dagger and shining beast core exploded in a nimbus of flame, steel shrapnel flying everywhere as the weapon was obliterated. Darvus rushed forward, flourishing his axes as he leapt for the Alacryan spy.

Something happened to the shrapnel in the air, however. A current of white mana seemed to overlay the area, and suddenly all the shards of metal were zipping toward Darvus instead. He stumbled to a halt, planting his feet and raising his axes in front of his face in a protective measure.

The barrage of metal slammed into the flats of his blade, but each impact sounded like the strike of a hammer on nails. Darvus was sent skidding back as the remaining shards of shrapnel rebounded off his armor.

Caria darted from around Darvus' back, lithely sprinting toward our foe. Her gauntlets flared with mana as they erupted into jagged flames, the small warrior yelling a resounding battlecry as she threw herself at the Alacryan spy.

I followed her lead, conjuring vines as thick as my torso that dug and rent the earth as they surged toward the enemy mage. He turned to look at me, but too late.

My vines cinched around the mage's legs, anchoring him to the ground and locking him in place. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment.

And Caria's fist thundered toward his skull like an unerring hammer, poised to crater in his jaw.

Yet somehow, impossibly, the mage bent backward, slipping the punch even as his legs were rooted to the spot. He flexed, straining for a bare instant, then tore himself free of my spell.

I snarled as Norgan let loose an unfocused wave of fire that sent Caria tumbling backward, her gauntlets singed from deflecting the blast. Darvus cursed as he flexed his shoulders, getting into formation near me. Caria pulled herself up too, her hair in disarray and a mask of determination on her face.

A dozen meters away, Norgan wiped a bit of blood away from his throat where my rapier had cut him. He flexed his magic, and the red liquid burnt away. Simultaneously, something arced down from the ceiling, settling on his shoulder.

Behind me, Stannard gasped and Darvus cursed. An avian construct of bronze metal trilled as it hopped onto Norgan's shoulder, peering at us with sunlit eyes. I forced myself to focus on the enemy in front of us and not his little contraption.

Its eyes are like Lord Aldir's, I thought, feeling unnerved by the intensity of those burning pits. And it appears my guess was correct. That clockwork thing obeys his orders.

"I wanted to wait for a time when there was a certainty that nobody else had to get hurt," Norgan said, his shoulders slumping, "but it appears I can only remain undercover when the circumstances are more dangerous," he said, sounding cynically amused.

"If you think we aren't dangerous," I said, settling my stance and calling on my mana, "then you're in for something else, Alacryan," I added confidently.

I'd trained for years to master my power, fighting under the best tutors Elenoir could field. I'd been tutored by Lord Aldir himself in my swordplay. If this Alacryan, however powerful he was, thought he would simply walk over us, he was wrong.

Norgan rolled his neck, an audible cracking echoing out as he flourished his hand. A white horn–streaked through with what looked like orange-purple veins–settled into his palm. "I'm sorry, Lady Eralith," he said somberly. "I've had a really, really bad week. But if I manage what I need to right here and now, there's a chance this world won't go to hell."

I opened my mouth to reply in turn, to counter with something. But I suddenly felt the blood leave my face as the instincts I'd inherited from my Elderwood Guardian Beast Will screamed at me. The shifting power, laden deep within my core, told me in no uncertain terms, that if I didn't use it–

In a sudden panic, I allowed myself to fall into the Second Phase of my Beast Will. The malevolent power of an S-class mana beast surged to the surface of my skin, causing my hair to darken to a deep, forest green and my aura to mold around me like a celestial shell.

It was only the automatic, primal defenses of my Will that saved me. Dark green vines–almost black–erupted from the ground, pulling me backward and away from something I couldn't perceive.

Just in time. Norgan's fist–coated with a layer of white mana–seemed to phase into existence right in front of me with how fast he'd suddenly become. I barely had time to bring my sword in front of my chest in defense before whatever spell he'd coated his hands with erupted, blowing me back.

As I shot backward, my arms aching all the way to my shoulder from the effort of blocking that single attack, I sent out tendrils of vines to try and ensnare Norgan's feet once more. Caria, acting on instinct and the engrained practice of a hundred battles, rushed forward to try and sucker-punch the spy while he was trapped.

Except something different happened. A saber of what looked like transparent crystal folded itself over the horn in Norgan's hand, becoming a blade of burning fire. The weapon flashed a few times at speeds I couldn't comprehend, severing the vines that held him.

I felt dread growing in my stomach as Norgan turned leisurely to face my friend. "Caria, no!" I yelled, panic suffusing my voice. My Elderwood Guardian Will screamed inside of me, angry for some reason I couldn't discern. "Don't go in alone!"

My friend didn't listen, too engaged in battle lust. Norgan easily avoided a flurry of her punches, ducking and weaving like a dancer amidst a hurricane. It was pristine, the way he moved. Not a bit of wasted movement that I could see.

Where Arthur was always an impossible force, this mage shifted like the air itself with every step. Caria looked like she was trying to grasp handfuls of stormwind.

Caria seemed to realize in the moment the danger she was facing. Like a child that runs away from their parents into the dark, she saw an insurmountable wall. A barrier she could not cross.

I slammed half a dozen vines into the earth, halting my momentum with a sudden lurch. The change made me queasy for a bare instant, but I still wasn't fast enough.

Norgan spun on his heel, snapping his leg out for a devastating roundhouse kick. At the speed it was going and how Caria had overextended, she didn't even have a chance to block it.

The sound of the impact echoed as it struck Caria solidly in the ribcage. Her eyes rolled back up into her skull as her limp body shot toward Darvus, who was screaming with rage as he tried to assault our enemy.

Yet as his childhood friend's body arced toward him, Darvus hesitated, dropping his axes and rushing to catch her in a moment of panic.

"You don't yet know true war," Norgan said, his hand snapping out like a devious serpent. He clasped the surprised Darvus' face, the Clarell's eyes staring wildly through the Alacryan's fingers. "You've only fought beasts."

And then he slammed Darvus into the ground head-first. A crater opened beneath Darvus' body as he gasped in pain, going limp with his childhood friend splayed over him.

I screamed in fury as I surged toward the mage facing us. I didn't know why, but it felt just like whenever I saw Art truly fight. There was a deadly aura to his almost casual movements that reminded me of my childhood friend.

This is what you've been training for! I internally yelled at myself. So he won't always be beyond your reach!

A streak of red shot toward the strawberry-blonde mage at an impossible speed, yet a wall of pushing force erected itself in front of Norgan just in time. Stannard's high-power round veered off-course sharply, instead aiming directly for me as I blurred toward my enemy.

I caught a glimpse of Stannard's horrified face for a split second as the attack approached, but my Second Phase was my protector. Of their own accord, vines arose around me, catching the projectile before whipping it back at Norgan.

Norgan simply tilted his head, allowing the small marble of power to whizz right past his ear. It detonated in a resounding explosion as it hit the wall, causing the ceiling to tremble and outlining the Alacryan in fire for a bare instant.

And then we collided. I was a flurry of vines, sword strikes, and torrents of wind as I tried desperately to land a hit on the man. My rapier darted in and out like the snap of a whip, seeking blood.

But there was nothing. At every turn, his blurring saber of fire deflected my attacks, severed my vines, and dispersed my blades of air. Even with the power of the Elderwood Guardian suffusing my veins, even with my years of experience guiding my every step, it was like trying to pierce a veil of water. Nothing had any purchase, despite our similar speeds. It was like he could sense my desires before I even knew them.

My anger redoubled at my futile attempts. And just like Arthur, I can't land a single scratch.

But there was something else rising inside me, too. Fear.

Norgan's eyes flashed a deeper orange, his face a mask of concentration as he engaged me. The only damage I'd managed were a few cuts and scrapes along his arms. "Humans are so much worse than beasts, Tessia," he said, ducking the swipe of my rapier once more, before pivoting away to avoid the ensorcelling tendril of a vine. "We plan, we fight, we exploit weaknesses. We sin."

Darvus, his face bloodied and half-crazed from being slammed into the ground, launched himself at us with a rabid cry. "A bastard and a liar!" he bellowed. "That's what you are, Alacryan! You think you can spy on us and get away with it?!"

Something in Norgan's face darkened. "Get away with it?" he whispered through the clash of our blades, his aura redoubling.

Norgan shifted slightly, allowing Darvus' axes to blur past his face, before rearing back a fist. I watched with horrified intensity as fire, sound, and a layer of that strange, white mana concentrated over his fist.

"You can't even comprehend what I'm trying to stop," he hissed, his orange eyes flashing like a bonfire.

No, I thought desperately, feeling a terrible certainty as an absurd amount of energy swelled over the man's knuckles. Even from a ways away, the sheer volume of power made my body tense. I can't let him land that attack! I can't let him hurt my squadmates!

Norgan's fist rocketed toward a disoriented Darvus' chest, poised to blow a hole clean through. I called on my mana, feeling my core twinge painfully as I siphoned more and more energy into my spell.

A massive vine–easily twice the width of my torso–erupted from the ground, wrapping around Norgan's body and cinching shut like a serpent. The angle of his attack was disrupted, causing his fist to fly off target.

I had to shield my eyes from the flare of light and sound, the trembling of power in the air making my teeth rattle. When I opened them once more, a furrow half the length of the cavern had been dug through the ground, obliterating any and all crystals in the spell's path.

Darvus gaped on the ground, having barely avoided death. Instead, one of his axes–heirlooms passed down for generations through the Clarell House–had become a slag of molten steel at his feet.

And Norgan was still bound by my massive vine. I felt adrenaline course through me once more, sensing an opportunity that wouldn't come again. He'll kill us all, I thought with resolve as I surged toward the trapped mage. We can't let him recover! He's too powerful to–

Norgan's fist, which was forced to remain outstretched by the vine that held him, opened. My eyes darted to his palm, feeling a blaring fear.

A familiar kind of mana swirled there. It rippled like translucent oil, bending and warping the air. Within, a condensed bit of fire sparkled and popped. I watched as the spell fell from his hands in slow motion, almost entranced by how the sound mana split the light.

And then it hit the ground. The flashbang erupted like the popping of the world's largest balloon, a dozen different frequencies and octaves and noises crashing into each other as the world flashed orange. My vision swam as sound and light assaulted me, causing me to stumble to the ground as my sense of everything went haywire from confusion.

When my vision finally came back into focus, there was a familiar shadow standing over me. I was being dragged backward, the person grunting and cursing as he tried to move me. Stannard's thin arms strained from the effort.

"Come on," he said to himself. "We need to get you out of here!"

I coughed up a mouthful of blood, struggling to keep a hold on my Second Phase. That sound spell had rattled me deeply. Distantly, I was aware that Norgan had torn his way free of my binding spell, and was fighting both Darvus and Caria at once. I didn't know when Caria had gotten back up, but the man was clearly toying with them.

I scrambled to my feet, stumbling from disorientation. I blinked bleary, uncertain eyes. I took that point-blank, I thought, my ears still ringing and my body still numb. The vibrations from that spell… they'd damaged something inside me.

"Tessia, it's you he's after!" I vaguely heard Stannard say. "You need to get out of here! You've gotta leave while you can! We'll hold him–"

I ignored my friend, unwilling to leave him here to die for my sake. Always for my sake, I seethed, that anger centering me. Everyone is always ready to sacrifice for me! My eyes darted to Stannard's belt, the rush of battle blurring out all else.

On instinct and a barely formed idea, my hand snapped out, grabbing the bag of high-power rounds he had stashed at his hip. They felt surprisingly heavy, the seven rounds within clinking with barely contained power.

Stannard's eyes went wide with fear. "Tessia, you can't–"

I ignored my squadmate's pleas as I rushed forward, clinging to my Beast Will for support. I watched as Norgan's fist obliterated the other priceless artifact of House Clarell, shattering the second of his axes into a hundred tiny pieces. Darvus gaped at the handle of his weapon, cradling its remains like a child for a split instant. Before Norgan could land the final blow, my vines reached out, grabbing both his and Caria's body.

With an effort of will, I hurled my friends behind me, rushing to face the monster alone. He turned to face me, his expression set in a deathly serious cast.

"Maybe we haven't fought anything other than beasts," I said, my voice coming out strained from exertion, "but you forgot one thing."

Norgan allowed me to get close, likely expecting to engage in another fruitless close-quarters duel with me. Except the moment I was close enough, I threw the bag at the ground.

Norgan's eyes widened in surprise and true fear for a moment as he crossed his arms over his face, expecting an explosion as the sack hit the stones and bracing from the front.

Yet none came. A vine snaked around behind Norgan, bearing the last seven of Stannard's high-power rounds. It slammed them into the floor just as I reversed course, darting backward with a victorious grin. In that barest instant, the Alacryan spy seemed to understand that he'd been duped; baited into blocking from the wrong direction.

"You're just as mortal as the rest of us," I hissed, feeling a surge of victory in my veins.

The subsequent explosion sent me hurtling backward like a comet. I smashed through a spire of crystal painfully, a few of my ribs audibly breaking from the impact as the entire cavern was awash with orange light. The ground trembled and the ceiling creaked as force traveled through the entire cave. Deep cracks—each like ravines—spread along the floor. Fault lines opened like yawning abysses as they spread throughout the crystalline boss room. The flickering blue lights wavered as power washed through them.

My body tumbled weakly down a spire, exhaustion threading through my everything. Stannard managed to get mostly clear of the blast wave, having dragged Caria and Darvus' limp bodies behind a jutting spike of crystal for protection.

My exhausted eyes met Stannard's as the torrent of fire finally dissipated. The scent of smoke cloyed in the air from where I lay.

By the asura in Epheotus, I thought headily, feeling a laugh bubble up from my throat, Stannard packed a metric ton of mana into those things.

I was pretty sure that amount of firepower could level a city block. What was he doing just carting that around in a bag?!

"That had to have done something," Stannard said hopefully, barely audible over the ringing in my ears. "Nothing could have–"

And suddenly, Stannard's words choked off as a suffocating presence suffused the cavern, the judgment of one beyond us all pressing into every inch of the ambient mana. My core lurched as it sputtered weakly, my body crumpling fully to the floor as I fought to remain conscious.

I watched with horrified eyes as the smoke cleared, eyes like stars piercing the gloom.

Toren Daen

My body felt hot. So, so hot. Even with the support of my Acquire Phase burning along my veins, the heat of the conflagration threatened to overwhelm me.

But I was still protected from the worst of the blast. Aurora's massive bronzed wings sheltered me in a protective cocoon of metal, the air warping around us as my bond used her construct to brace against the compounding explosion.

For a few seconds, I feared I wouldn't make it out of this as the heat made the massive feathers warp. My breathing was strained and unsure as tinges of orange licked at the outside of my bond's shell.

And then the heat dissipated, wafting away as the mana fueling it was expended. My skin gradually healed over as I stared at Aurora's damaged form.

Her large avian head dipped, inspecting my wounds from above. Part of her beak was visibly melting, leaving her relic disfigured and damaged as it weakly puffed orange-purple light.

They hurt her, I thought with sudden fury, my intent rippling out. It's my fault. She only had to do this because I got sloppy.

"That is correct, my young chick," Aurora admonished. "You let your guard down and allowed the Legacy's Vessel to catch you by surprise. It is only this shell that bears damage, but you cannot afford such laxness. Especially so close to your goal."

I ground my teeth as the smoke cleared, the chain on my arm pulsing in rhythm with my anger. Not at my opponents, but at myself. The air felt heavy with the swirl of my emotions as I began to stalk toward Tessia Eralith, eventual Vessel for the Legacy.

The princess lay sprawled on the ground, blood dribbling from her once-pristine lips. Her battle armor was cracked and broken in nearly every single place, and from the terrified tremble of her heart, I knew she'd suffered internal injuries.

The fear in her eyes made my own thoughts waver. The desperation, the need to survive, yet also protect the ones close to her? My thoughts were a mess as I slowly closed the distance between us. The warmth of my Phoenix Will–usually so calming–did nothing to temper the fire of my heart.

Everything has led to this, I thought angrily, guilt churning in my mind as I spotted Darvus and Caria's bodies a ways away. Another line I've crossed.

Tessia tried to pull herself to her feet, but the weight of my intent and the injuries she'd sustained made that impossible. She cried out in pain as she collapsed in a heap. But surprisingly, it was Stannard who stepped up next, fighting through the cascading waves of my killing intent as he stood guard over his team leader's prone form.

His hands trembled. His eyes watered with terror. And his legs visibly shook as he placed himself between me and his leader. Yet he stood strong.

He leveraged his crossbow at me, unwilling to abandon his teammate. I stared down the barrel, noting a final round stowed inside.

I must look like a monster to them, I thought, pausing as I stared at the terrified Stannard. A beast. A creature of war. An unholy killing machine.

Stannard pulled the trigger, firing off his last beast core at me with a heartfelt cry and the speed of a bullet. I simply raised my hand, snatching the marble from the air with a gentle touch. I found myself inspecting the swirling mana within, barely contained by the limiting walls of the beast core.

What would Greahd think of me? I wondered mournfully as I stared at the core. She could do the same thing as Stannard, after all. The mana inside was volatile, barely on the brink. It was so, so close to exploding. To letting it all break away under the pressure and simply becoming fire. Would she think me a monster, too?

I snarled at the thought, then crushed the core in my hands. Under the influence of my Phoenix Will, the mana contained inside didn't even have a chance to burst. I smothered the flames with brute force, not allowing them to burn.

I walked forward once more. Stannard put his hands up in a crude imitation of a fighter's stance, his hopeless eyes still determined to fight one last time. I closed my eyes as he threw himself at me, not watching as my telekinetic pushes blew him away.

When I opened them again, I stared down at Tessia Eralith. There was something sadly resigned in her face as she stared up at me, unable to move her body and bereft of any protectors.

"You were destined to be powerless in the most fundamental way imaginable," I found myself saying as I stared down at the elf. "But if I can stop that future… If I can prevent that Fate…"

Tessia Eralith was going to be Cecilia's Vessel. Using the anchor points of Nico and Grey, alongside the mirrored circumstances across both lives, the symmetry in Fate allowed Agrona to pull the Legacy's soul and supplant Tessia's mind within her own body.

But that didn't need to be the case. Agrona had only found Tessia–only won the war–because of the corrupted nature of her Elderwood Guardian. It allowed him to track her wherever she went, to turn her into a remote bomb whenever he desired. It allowed him to blackmail Alduin Eralith into surrendering all of Dicathen.

But if I took away the corruption of the Elderwood Guardian… If I cleansed her Beast Will of its Vritra taint, then the Legacy's reincarnation became infinitely more complicated for Agrona. Then he wouldn't be able to so easily win this war.

I knelt over the elf's body, my eyes tracing the motes of heartfire that clung to her blood as it dribbled down her armor. This was what I'd been planning for so, so long. This was how I gave this world a better chance.

"I'm sorry, Lady Eralith," I said, pointing a finger over her sternum. "I suspect this is going to hurt."

Tessia's eyes widened, right before a thin scalpel of plasma projected itself over my fingers. I lowered it down to her core, blocking out her panicked whimpering and futile struggles. When my blade cut a thin line over her chest, she didn't cry out like I expected. The pain must have been substantial, yet the elf only glared up at me in growing defiance despite her terror.

That's right, I thought, feeling as her heartfire flared with emotion. Don't give in. Never give in, Tessia Eralith. Even when the odds are stacked against you. Even when you feel like there is no other choice.

I felt her Elderwood Guardian Will as it resonated with my Phoenix Will. It was terrified; afraid of the sun encroaching on its domain as I pushed two fingers into the cut I'd made and pressed their tips against the elf's silver core.

This time, she did yell out in pain. I ignored it, falling into the fugue state of surgery as I commanded her Beast Will forward. Tessia's hair turned from its normal gunmetal gray to a forest green as her Second Phase engaged, the Elderwood Guardian putting up one last, futile struggle as my heartfire touch enveloped it.

You are nothing, I snarled mentally, Aurora's mind bolstering my own as she assisted my fortitude. A simple beast. A paltry remnant. You are nothing to an asura.

And as my fiery talons finally wrapped around the Elderwood Guardian, I began to pull.

Tessia's screams became deafening as I slowly retracted my hand, sweat beading across my entire body as I tore at the Beast Will inside of her. Slowly, slowly. Ever-so-slowly, I felt as the corrupted taint of the Vritra began to separate from her core, following my goading touch as it sought to try and clash with my Phoenix Will.

This was what I'd trained in the Beast Glades for, constantly cleansing the monsters I'd found of their corruption. All for this moment, where I denied Agrona his tool. Where I refused him and spat in his face. Where I ground his meticulous plans into dust.

A black, writhing swirl of mana slowly separated from Tessia's core as I drew it out. Her hair, which had been a forest green under the effects of her Beast Will, bled to a lighter color: a reflective, emerald shade that didn't feel so dark. The roots and vines that flailed around us–which were once so twisted and gnarled–became smooth and healthy in a way I never expected. Flowers with petals of deep silver sprouted all along the length of the vines, budding and blossoming as if spring had already come. I thought I could smell fresh leaves around us as those flowers bloomed.

I exhaled as I grasped the wriggling tendril of black mana above Tessia's chest, my breath coming up short. Not because I was exhausted, no. But because I'd done it. I looked down at the elven princess beneath me, meeting her turquoise eyes. She'd been screaming her lungs out in pain earlier as I wrenched the blackness from her core, but now there was a distinctly surprised and baffled expression on her face as her eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the shadows that squirmed in my palm like a malevolent leech.

"W-What? What did you do to me?" she asked numbly, her voice scratchy and hoarse. She sounded so baffled—so blown away by this turn of events—that I couldn't help it. 

I laughed. It was a hearty, mad sort of sound. The weight of a thousand plans and worries and terrors and everything slamming into me all at once. Tears gathered at the edges of my vision as I held proof of my victory, of my ability to change everything in my palm.

This world could be changed. Agrona could be denied.

I stared mutely up at the ceiling, my shoulders slumping as I traced the outline of the crystal stalactites above. "Well, Lady Eralith," I said, feeling a strange mix of energy and tiredness, "It seems that you're free to–"

And my world erupted in pain.