Chapter 214: Unmasked

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Seris Vritra

My eyes widened slowly as Toren's words registered with me. The Legacy.

Agrona's secret project; his quiet endgame to disrupt the status quo of this world. I knew precious little about his end goal and motivations regarding the Legacy; the sources afforded to me were slim and indistinct. The High Sovereign regularly worked at cross-purpose to himself, confounding and confusing all who could not see his same vision.

And none were more shrouded than this otherworld entity, known only by a title. I had managed to get some information from Nico Sever in regards to what exactly I could expect, but beyond that…

"I know the name," I admitted to Toren, feeling my mind shift into a more analytical framework. "But I do not know their purpose or what… he might accomplish should he be successful."

Toren nodded slowly, the candles spread across the room seeming to dim all at once as he inhaled. "The Legacy was a being of supreme power in Nico and Grey's previous world," he said, wringing his hands. "They bore the unique ability of control–not of themself, but of all others. Imagine a mage that with a bare taste of your mana could dominate every single speck of that energy. The world itself would bend to their whims, and not even the greatest mages–be they asura or mortal–would have a say in their own fate. For no matter how much you cultivated your control, you would be subject to their touch."

As Toren spoke, I allowed myself to imagine the picture he painted. And I found myself shuddering. If Agrona could simply deprive the greatest powers in this world of their very source of life…

It could very well spell the end of Epheotus itself.

I allowed myself to exhale slightly through my nose. "And I assume you aim to… influence this being's descent?" I asked, careful with my wording.

Toren shifted slightly so that he faced me more fully on the sofa. "Agrona brought two souls to this world from across the barrier of worlds, utilizing arts torn from the minds of the Asclepius phoenixes. And the souls he brought were not just any, no. For something as great, as monumental as the Legacy, you need supports. Points with which to anchor the soul. Like lighthouses that guide a ship to its dock."

I took a gulp of the wine once more, feeling as the liquid trailed down my throat like a sweet fire. My fingers might have trembled.

"Nico Sever," I said slowly, grasping the breadth of Toren's implications immediately. "And Arthur Leywin."

Toren reached a hand out toward me, no doubt sensing the mess that my emotions had become. Yet his hand halted, then curled back toward his knees.

Unfortunate, I thought bleakly. The warmth this wine brings my stomach cannot banish the chill his words cast me into. Perhaps his touch would calm me.

"So that was why you sought out Arthur Leywin," I said somberly. "To deprive him of one of his anchors, thus preventing this being's descent?"

Toren shifted nervously, averting his eyes from mine. For the first time, I noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, barely visible in the low light. Perhaps he was more affected by his glass of wine than he let on.

"Not exactly, Seris," the last son of Named Blood Daen said. "I will kill an anchor, that much I have sworn. But in this instance… I sought to deprive the High Sovereign of not his anchors, but his Vessel."

I tilted my head, my hair shifting as I observed Toren. I meticulously filtered each new bit of information I received into their proper places within my mind, cataloging and marking them as needed. While I had begun to feel a slight buzz from the effect of the drink in my hands, I would not allow my thinking to be impeded.

"The… Vessel?" I questioned.

"Tessia Eralith," Toren explained. "Princess of Elenoir. Her core was infected; tainted, in a way that allowed the High Sovereign to track her. And Fate is a fickle thing, Seris. It has a strange sense of irony to it, creating mirrors in destiny. More often than not, the future rhymes with the past. And using one of these rhymes, the elven Princess could have been supplanted by another. So I removed that taint in her core, leaving her far and away safer."

"So you didn't seek out Arthur Leywin," I said, feeling my brow furrow, "but his princess instead?"

Toren didn't respond.

I exhaled a shuddering breath as he finished his story, leaning against the chaise lounge's backrest. My head swam slightly, and whether that was from the alcohol or the enormity of what Toren had revealed, I could not say.

I could take him at face value, couldn't I? Theoretically, this knowledge was passed down from Lady Dawn–Toren's bond, whatever that meant. If all he said were true, then…

I downed the last of the wine in my goblet, then let my hand lay limply on the cushions. So long had I chased Toren's grand secret, and now that I had found it, I knew not how to move forward.

I had so, so many plans–plans I could not even afford to think of. If I wanted to account for all of this… I'd spared Arthur Leywin before. Did I seek his death now?

It was too much to sort through in one, single moment. I found myself releasing a humorless chuckle as I laid my head against the back of the sofa, my eyes drifting closed as the steady warmth in my stomach compelled me.

"This is what it's all been about, in the end," I muttered tiredly. "All to this fascinating–and troubling–revelation you've bestowed upon me."

"It's a lot to think about," the young mage acknowledged. "But you'll figure it out soon. You're too driven for this to shake you. But it hasn't all been about that."

Him and his errant tongue, I thought tiredly. That wine really had done its work on him if he was so quick to try and flatter me. He should do so more often.

"You know, Toren," I muttered, driven by wine or by true desire, I could not tell, "for so long, I've been trying to puzzle you out. I wanted to discover what drove you in your antics. I have found myself lying awake at night, trying to reconcile how you think."

I felt the pressure on the sofa change slightly. I allowed my eyelids to peek open just the barest inch, revealing Toren as he mirrored my own slumped posture.

And for the first time, I saw the weariness he carried there. The sheer exhaustion that hung over him like a stormcloud. "You're not unique in that," he said quietly. "In your wondering."

I chuckled lightly, my fingers brushing his. Somehow, our hands found themselves intertwined. The sensation of his rough palm on mine almost banished the quiet dread and gloom that suffused everything else in my life. "Do you wonder about yourself," I teased, feeling sly, "or of me, late into the night?"

I felt Toren's pulse quicken slightly under his hand. Good, I thought, savoring the subtle change in his demeanor. You should not be so quick to influence me, Spellsong. I have every right to return the favor.

"You know the answer to that," he eventually said. "I've found myself inadvertently thinking of what drives you, my Scythe."

My Scythe.

I will have to present him with wine more often, I thought, feeling a slight smile–one not unlike a contented predator's–curl across my lips. Absently, I noted as the blazing relic that bore the phoenix simmered away, shrinking back down to a brooch.

I watched the transformation with a perplexed expression. "Toren," I said, "where does your phoenix bond go when not… here?"

Toren certainly did blush this time. "Aurora is nearly always here," he admitted, "but she can grant me privacy when I wish for it."

I hummed, cataloging this information in the depths of my mind as well. The air was quiet and somber, the revelations from a moment ago still cloaking every interaction. Yet there was also a strange sort of comfort in just being. Being with Toren, and just… being, period.

I didn't know what tomorrow would bring, how I would have to refactor my plans and preparations in the wake of Toren's secrets. But right now, I didn't need to worry about such things.

How long has it been since I have truly relaxed? I asked myself, running a finger across Toren's hand, tracing the outline of the scars that stood prominently there. How long has it been since I allowed myself to breathe?

"I've had my own fanciful ideas for what you are, Toren, and where you came from," I finally said into the silence. "Fancies of a wild mind, one that hopes for the impossible. They were farfetched, I must admit. But with what I had, I still hold that they were quite reasonable."

"Oh?" Toren prodded, nudging my shoulder with his, "Do tell me what the enigmatic Scythe Seris thought of my origins."

I could almost imagine that annoying smirk of his plastered on his face. Were I less tired, I would have wiped it from his face already.

"You don't command me, Spellsong. I reveal this of my own volition, not because you demanded it of me," I slurred, feeling my mind slip slightly as the welcoming call of slumber beckoned. "You are aware of this, yes?"

"Of course," Toren replied, his tone good-natured. As the candles in the room continued to flicker and dim, I could just make out the curve of his inviting lips. His eyes, though… they simmered like hot coals. "Then this humble servant must request that his Scythe tell him just what was so whimsical about her musings."

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then furrowed my brow as I fought down a flush in my cheeks. I quietly wondered how I could convey my rather… fanciful idea. It had all seemed to make sense in the moment, that Toren himself was a reincarnate. But perhaps that was my dreamlike desires projecting themselves onto the man at my side. The impossible possibility that there was a wild card outside even the High Sovereign's control.

"My initial guess was that you yourself were a reincarnated soul," I finally said, the words feeling lame as they left my mouth. "With the benefit of hindsight, I recognize how foolish such an idea may sound, but–"

Toren's hand tensed around mine, his pulse surging like nothing else. Surprised, I looked into his eyes once more.

They had contracted to the size of pinpricks, like dying embers cast up from a campfire. The shuddering breath he released seemed to shake the foundations of the very cavern we were in.

"Seris," he said slowly, "why do you think I'm not a reincarnate?"

I blinked a few times, my mind fuzzing at the edges. This time, I was certain the dizziness that impacted me was not from the alcohol. "I… I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not… like the others," Toren said, seeming to have to wrench the words from the depths of his very soul, "but…"

I leaned forward toward the floor, cutting off Toren's words as my carefully arrayed thoughts were finally dashed to the wind. I grabbed the bottle of wine that lay there, feeling how the majority of it was still left.

Good.

I raised a shaky hand, bringing the bottle to my lips and taking a wanton drink as my grace and composure abandoned me as a fresh soldier abandoned their sense of self on their first battlefield. I took several deep gulps of the wine before a hand finally wrenched the bottle from my grip.

A slight dribble of red like a droplet of blood streaked down my lips as Toren pulled my succor away.

"Now Seris, I don't think that is a very healthy reaction to–"

"Do you have any idea," I snapped at the presumptuous mage next to me, "how long I have kept my ideas to myself?" I said, sounding annoyingly like a little girl all the while. "And now you just… just…"

I scratched at my hair, groaning as my vision swam. That alcohol worked fast. "You are going to explain," I ordered, pointing a finger directly at Toren's face. His eyes went cross in an almost comical way as they centered on the point of my nail.

Toren slowly shifted his hand away, moving the bottle outside of my immediate reach, his eyes focused on my accusing finger all the while. "Well, I told you that I lay dying in the forest outside of Sehz-Clar the first time Aurora approached me, yeah?"

I struggled to fully recall what Toren was referencing, but once I had, I found myself nodding. "Yes. I thought something else could have taken your place. A soul, brought over by the phoenix."

Toren set the bottle down, then proceeded to gently push my arm out of the way so he could actually relax without risking my finger spearing into his eye. "Well, that's partially correct," he said. "But it's just…"

Toren groaned, running his hands through his hair and appearing genuinely unsure. Belatedly, I realized what this must mean. If Toren was a reincarnate, who exactly knew? Who had he told of this part of himself?

And how long had he kept it hidden? All to himself, barred from the knowledge of every questing inquiry?

A mask.

As my intoxicated mind finally realized this, I felt a surge of an unfamiliar emotion: one that I hadn't felt in such force for so, so long.

Guilt.

I felt my throat clench as I shuffled away. "I apologize, Toren," I said, blinking rapidly to try and clear the inhibiting toxin from my sight. "I… I did not realize what this might mean. I am usually more adept at people, and things such as this. If you do not wish to reveal such things…"

It was Toren's turn to grab the bottle of wine, before taking a few liberal gulps himself. When he pulled the bottle away, he heaved for breath, his eyes becoming more unfocused.

"That's the first time I've ever heard you apologize," he said quietly. "But you didn't need to."

The reincarnate slowly lowered the bottle back to the ground. "I've told nobody," he admitted. "None. Not even Sevren, who knows nearly everything else."

I found myself inadvertently remembering the darkness that had always haunted the depths of my soul. The thing that I was during the Redfeud War, before I'd seen the true state of my life and all others.

I hadn't told any of that side of me, either. And if I did, that would mean…

"I am called Twinsoul," Toren finally said into the dread silence. "In part, because Toren Daen and the man I used to be on Earth were mirrors across dimensions. But also because of what I am. I am of Earth and of Alacrya. I'm a man stuck between two worlds, one eye on each life and blood of both. I have struggled for a very long time to reconcile what that must mean. And where someone like me could belong."

I found myself thinking of the first time I'd heard Toren's music. I recalled his strange perception of the human person and the lengths he went to to try and uplift all: not just mages, but nonmages too. Not for the first time, I asked myself deeper questions about where he had found such ideals in a world that was crafted to break ideas of equality to shreds.

The aftertaste of the wine suddenly tasted far too much like bloody copper. 

"I am different from Nico and Arthur, Seris," Toren said quietly, his shoulders slumping as he held his face in his hands. "There are many reasons, but chief among them… Chief among them, Seris, was that I had a life worth living on Earth. And in turn, I have endeavored to craft something meaningful for myself. For others, too."

And in that moment, I thought I knew another piece of the soulful mage in front of me. He tried so desperately to understand people–to sympathize and join them in their struggles–because there was a part of him that could never be fully understood.

And as that revelation dawned on me, I felt a small piece of my heart crack. I'd convinced myself that I could fully know this man in front of me–that I could logic and reason out all the depths of his soul and keep it for myself. But as I finally grasped that there was some part of him that I wouldn't ever be able to truly know, I felt a strange sense of grief in my chest.

I leaned against Toren's sturdy body, slumping much in the same way he had as I rested my head against his shoulder. He smelt of hickory fires and morning dewdrops, and the sensation of him made the sleepy caress of the alcohol in my veins seem ever stronger. The act seemed to startle the young man, his body tensing as I allowed myself to truly use him as a support.

 "Toren," I said, my eyes closed as I allowed myself to drift closer to sleep, "tell me of your previous world."

The light was low enough that, if I had allowed my lids to open, I knew the only thing I would see would be Toren's glowing eyes.

Toren didn't respond at first. I squeezed my eyes shut harder, feeling my head swim beneath the darkness. "Please," I asked quietly. "You once said you wanted to understand me. I–" My breathing hitched, and my body trembled slightly. "Give me a chance to understand, too."

Toren wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his fingers tentatively squeezing the soft skin of my arm. I could not see him do it, but I could feel it, like a million goosebumps trailing their way through my veins. "You no doubt saw the steamships in the bay of Aedelgard as they were slowly built up for this continent's fleet. An entire mechanism powered by nothing but boiling water and a heaping of coal…"

"I did," I said softly, shifting so that I was more comfortable as I nuzzled against Toren's side. I pulled my knees in closer, savoring the warmth as I adjusted myself. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake, the low light and the effects of the drink compelling me toward welcoming slumber. Yet I refused to fall prey to such a trap; not while this moment remained so poignant in the depths of my mind. "I found them fascinating. I spent days picking apart the design, trying to find new ways to use the idea."

Toren chuckled. "Imagine a world filled to the brim with wonders beyond even that," he said, his voice taut with quiet longing. "Where man had conquered the earth, sea, and sky in equal measure. The drive of human progress was boundless; unshackled by the whims of deities intent on holding us down."

"Earth, sea, and sky…" I said slowly, saying the words as they appeared in my mind. No rigid filter of Scythe Seris stayed my words. No simmering terror of retribution from the powers on high kept my emotions chained. "That sounds sad. There would be nothing left to explore."

Toren went quiet, and for a moment I feared I had somehow ruined this precious moment; that I'd thrust a dagger into the heart of our conversation. But when he spoke again, his words were sly and teasing. "Do you remember that night on the balcony so many months ago, in the wake of the Denoir Ball? Where we spoke of the enormity of all before us, and how truly small we were in the cosmos?"

I felt a quiet flush work up to my cheeks as I recalled that night. That night beneath the moonlit stars was the first instance when I'd truly recognized that the emotions churning in my chest were no longer under control. I'd fooled myself into believing that everything was in the palm of my hand, as it always had been whenever I maneuvered as Renea Shorn.

I had been so very wrong.

"I remember you telling me the true distance we were from our sun," I said. "And I remember your monologue about the stars."

And how his eyes had danced, even when saying how utterly insignificant we were. I remembered thinking how strange that was. And strange was intriguing.

"Now I want you to take a wild guess," Toren said, "on how I knew so much about space beyond. I was no engineer, my dear Scythe, but what would it mean if such knowledge was so common?"

It took my tired mind a moment to connect the threads of our earlier conversation to this new divergence. Where the implications of having scoured an entire planet would leave mankind.

"No," I said in immediate denial, opening my eyes and staring up at Toren. "No, that's impossible. You said yourself how vast space was. How impossible the distances were, but…"

I couldn't see much past Toren's glimmering eyes, but from how they squinted, I got the distinct sense he was smiling. "We put a man on our moon, Seris," Toren said with a teasing voice. "Several, actually, and delivered them safely home. And that was when our capabilities as a species were a fraction of what they eventually became."

He had to be lying to me. Had to be slipping some falsehood into this narrative, because there was absolutely no way that a man could ever set foot on the moon.

"We didn't have any sort of energy to speak of," Toren said, his words settling into my mind. "Only the strength of unads, the power of lightning bent to our technological whims, and a whole lot of grit."

"You are not lying to me, are you, Toren?" I asked at last. Normally when he tried to lie to me, his shoulders would tense ever-so-slightly. His eyes would unfocus slightly, and his characteristic, annoying smirk would pull a little at the edges.

But I could hear the slow pulse of his heartbeat, too. He was telling me the truth.

"You would be surprised what we people can do when we want something done," the young man said quietly. "I feel like mana hampers the progress of this world as much as it helps. Does that sound strange, going to the moon?"

"It sounds absurd," I whispered to myself, still struggling to try and conceptualize how it could even be possible. Toren sighed in quiet longing, his fingers lightly massaging my arm. We both fell into distant thoughts about these revelations.

The moon was so far away. And as far as the Vritra's scientists were aware, there wasn't even an atmosphere on that rock. Did that mean that these moonwalkers took the atmosphere with them?

But how? I wondered, my puzzle-solving, Vritra-blooded scientist's brain trying to reconcile this all. Without mana, how could they be anything?

"It wasn't all perfect," Toren admitted somberly as I struggled to try and make sense of his earlier revelation. "I'm talking like everything was amazing and fine and great. But… Just like in this world, we had our fair share of corrupt politicians and greedy men and barriers to progress."

I blinked tiredly as I rested my head back on Toren's shoulder, deciding not to allow myself to spiral down the infinite expanse of questions his words had brought. "I imagine that the trappings of kings and queens would always lead to strife and pain, no matter the world," I replied quietly, immersing myself in his strong heartbeat beneath my ear.

"We left kings and queens behind a long time ago," Toren said with an amused snort. He became more wordy and grandiose as the alcohol hit his system, I realized. His tongue truly was loose. "Authoritarian power structures are wildly unstable and heavily prone to collapse. Progress can't be made if the needs of the uttermost few are all that are accounted for."

My thoughts snagged on this latest statement like an effervescent itch in the back of my mind. "If you didn't have kings and queens," I asked, feeling genuine curiosity, "then how did you maintain order? How did you keep everything running smoothly? Surely, you didn't just leave everyone to their own devices."

"That much is true," Toren granted. "Most countries had some form of representative system, or something close to it. Like democracy."

"What… What do you mean?" I asked, chasing that itch in the back of my mind. "How can any people rule themselves without a monarch?"

Toren coughed slightly, shifting so he was holding me a bit tighter as he maneuvered into a more comfortable position. He leaned against the back of the sofa, his body relaxing in turn. "Well, the people chose how they wanted to be ruled," he said simply. "Politicians were voted into positions with a multitude of checks and balances that work to ensure the continued benefit of everyone. It wasn't perfect, of course. I mean, there's always room for human failure in those kinds of things, Seris, but… It was better than here."

My breath slowed as Toren's words kissed my ear like sweet honey. Whether it be the effect of the wine in my stomach or the deepest of my desires being chipped away, I found myself unable to speak as a lump formed in the depths of my throat.

It… It was real. Something like this, where people could live for themselves, just like in my dreams–a world where humanity made decisions for themselves, without the finger of something bigger pushing them about. A world where every failure, every shortcoming, and every evil committed was entirely human failure. Human shortcomings, and human evil.

A world where every triumph was born from the depths of a person's passion and collective effort, not because some… asura demanded it so. Where man sought the stars as their next plateau, not because monsters with pale, gray skin and malevolent red eyes ordered them to. But because they could. Because there was nothing that would bar their way.

Because they were free.

I trembled slightly. And Toren sensed it, of course. "Seris, are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, the weight of everything Toren had just said filling my mind with relief. With resolve. That what I worked for was possible, because somewhere in the infinite expanse of the cosmos, it had already been done.

It was idealistic. Foolish. Emotional. Beyond the pale of logic, that such a thing might be possible in this world. But Toren made it all feel so real. He made it all feel so possible. 

I shifted, raising my hand so that it caressed Toren's face. His burning eyes held mine, and though I could see nothing else, I knew where I needed to go.

I pressed my lips to Toren's, kissing him softly. The mesh of our lips lasted for what felt like an eternity and a single, fleeting moment all at once as I finally gave into that desire I'd held for so very long.

Far too soon, I forced myself to pull away, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as my limbs felt weak as jelly. "You have given me something wonderful tonight," I said softly, and I was surprised to find that my voice did not shake nearly as much as I expected. My hand caressed Toren's cheek. I could not see it, but the tactile sensation grounded me in a way few things ever had. "Something so, so beautiful, Toren Daen."

"I… I don't know what I've given you," he said, and his voice was almost sorrowful. "Tell me, Seris. Please."

I moved back to where I had been before, curling up against Toren's sturdy form as a cat lounged around a fire. "You showed me what was possible," I said after a moment, feeling more than content. "And that is a gift beyond any I have ever received."

As I slowly succumbed to the call of slumber, tomorrow's plans rumbled haphazardly through my mind. I would have to sort out Wolfrum's betrayal. And… And then I needed to attend a parlay with Olfred and the Dicathians. There was the Aurora Constellate nearing, too. After that…

After that, there was so much more work to be done. But as the welcoming abyss of sleep finally drowned out all other sounds as I lost myself in Toren's embrace, there was a foreign emotion that underlaid it all.

Hope.