Chapter 227: Back Home

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Sevren Denoir

The thing screamed. It was hard to describe the sound it made as it stamped its near-endless feet. Like a dozen steam engines smashed together, maybe?

Still, the massive millipede was making my life difficult. Its serrated mandibles, translucent hide, and strange flexibility had turned what should have been a routine ascent into a death trap. When we'd arrived in this zone, Caera and Naereni had been content to just leave. I had, too: until my reforged aether compass had picked up absurd concentrations in the central mound of the jungle.

But the countless piles of aether crystals had a guardian. One that looked like something forged in the depths of Taegrin Caelum itself.

I blurred backward, slashing outward with my blade arm as I used Dictate of Mass with perfect precision. The bronze soulmetal lightened in color as the effect took it, and my arm moved at speeds that would have seen me crippled before. Then, in the instant before impact, I inverted the effect.

The soulmetal turned dark as its mass redoubled, but it was still going at an absurd speed. With impossible momentum, the edge of my blade slammed into the creature's leg. The purplish aetheric barrier around its body shimmered, then melted away as my sword arm cut right through with the force of a guillotine.

I would have never been able to do that before, I thought with silent relish, feeling mana as it thrummed over my veins. My teal cloak whipped as I moved, already preparing for the creature's counterattack. All because of Toren's aether arts.

The massive leg–easily twice my height–fell to the ground as purplish-red blood spurted from the stump. The massive millipede screamed, whirling on me as it tried to stamp me into a fine paste with its spear-like legs. Its mandibles clicked and whirred as it made that steam engine noise. It had no eyes to glare at me, but I could feel its hatred.

But I had already acted, expecting this chain of events. I moved my metal arm to the side, aiming for the nearest cavern wall, then flexed.

The blade atop my wrist ejected with the force of a bullet, trailing hairavant wire as it sank into the faraway stone. And with a simple tug, I was already flying up and away, out of the creature's reach in a blur. As I was pulled away, I took the chance to aim the gun in my left hand. Time seemed to slow as I lined up my shot, the edge of the bronze barrel glinting in the low light.

Then I pulled the trigger, three times in quick succession. Three gunshots echoed as the buster rounds punched small holes in the creature's body, each leaking a slow stream of blood.

Unfortunately, my attacks did little more than annoy the beast. It screamed in rage, fully intent on chasing me up the walls of the cavern. Still, I felt a subtle smirk stretch on my face as the beast forgot the true threat.

Caera's red blade swung, a gale of violent soulfire slamming into the creature's side. The decay-aspected flame fought the creature's aether barrier for a time, before finally breaking through and opening wounds along its long, plated body.

The cavern rumbled as the aether beast twisted about with impossible speed, mashing more aether crystals beneath its feet as it tried to gore my sister. It screeched in rage, pitching a tantrum as it tried to catch her with its mandibles. She raised her soulfire-coated blade in a defensive maneuver, bracing against those scythes of chitin. Around her raised mask, her navy hair flared.

The creature still pushed forward, my sister's back inching at speed toward an erupting spike of aetheric crystal. Those pincers snapped and bit as she held it away from her head.

"Any time now, Rat!" I yelled, feeling sweat on my skin as I disengaged from the wall. I checked my ammo. Ten buster rounds left.

"Always coming to me for help, Douboir!" a cheerful voice echoed. "You should learn to figure things out yourself sometimes!"

A subtle glyph near the base of the millipede's neck flashed with dark power, and then a dozen black chains of graveice surged from the rune. They clinked and hissed as they raced backward, absorbing the light as they reached the roof of the cavern. And though I could not see it, I knew they'd lashed themselves to a dagger of basilisk-tinted ice.

The thing lurched, screaming as those chains tightened like a leash. Its head rose into the air as its momentum worked against it, Naereni's bindings tying the top of its skull to the ceiling. It thrashed, screaming in fury as it tried to escape. The bindings cracked.

Naereni raced down along the chains, her balance supernatural as her short, dark braid whipped. A manic grin was plastered on her features as her Rat halfmask covered the top of her face. Even as the creature thrashed, pulling at the graveice chains and pushing them closer and closer to breaking, she only laughed in glee. "I imbued nearly all my mana into that spell!" she said cheerily. "If this doesn't work, Kitty-cat, you're fucked!"

Caera jumped upward, landing on the beast's head where the glyph shone. The red sword came stabbing down into the thrashing monster's head, ensuring she wouldn't be thrown off. She glared at Naereni for the nickname as a hand covered in soulfire pressed against the glyph.

"Don't worry about that, Whiskers," my sister bit back. "I've heard of rats that get eaten by bugs!"

Naereni dropped to the back of the millipede, driving a graveice dagger between the thin plates of its chitin. "But how much more embarrassing would it be for Miss Boulders to get digested? That just means I've got an excuse!"

I slid forward, taking note of this all as I imbued mana into my dimensional storage. A single cartridge automatically loaded itself into the slot on my arm with a resounding clunk as I ran toward our pre-planned destination. I felt it in a strange way as the shell settled into place.

"I'm ready!" I called, stashing my gun back in my dimensional storage. "Just give me my opening!" I met Caera's ruby eyes from where she held to the creature's thrashing head, her hand still pressed over the glyph.

And with a flex of her mana, my sister imbued her decay-attribute fire into the rune, and the chains changed. Black hellfire raced along the dark ice, meshing and sinking into it. The chains from high above detached as this spell merger created something entirely new, the contrasting affinities meshing together in an entirely unique creation.

Black frostfire chains as wide as tree trunks dipped and weaved about the suddenly freed aether beast, tying it in on itself as they looped back toward Naereni. Every place those merged deviants touched burned and froze in equal measure, creating a flash-freeze effect that made the chains sink deep into its flesh.

And when they finally reached the dagger Naereni had driven into the beast's rear, they cinched shut.

"I can't hold this for long," my sister grunted, sweat atop her face as she funneled more and more mana into the spell. "Finish it quickly, Sevren!"

"Speak for yourself," Naereni countered, though she looked even more tired. "I can do this all day!"

I skidded to a halt in front of the creature's enormous head. Though the thing had been bound, it still thrashed and fought. Those serrated pincers nearly took off my head as they snapped shut, a whoosh of displaced air echoing above me.

I gritted my teeth, my eyes flashing as I stared into the beast's unending translucent gullet. I raised my soulmetal arm, bracing as I engaged Dictate of Mass to increase the weight of my body. Within my arm, I ensured that the bullet's mass was momentarily lesser.

Lightning crackled around me as I engaged my mental trigger, my hand folding backward over my wrist. Soon, the barrel of my cannon arm was revealed as I aimed down the beast's maw. An electric yellow glow burned from between the plates of my metal muscles, reflecting off the purplish glass of the creature's throat. The metal hummed as the scent of ozone tickled my nose.

"I just upgraded the firing mechanism of my arm with some slight gravity artifacts," I said, wondering if the creature could understand me. Even though that mouth could swallow me whole, a predatory grin stretched across my face. "I hope there's enough of you left to examine so I can quantify the difference in power."

And then the shell in my hand accelerated through the path provided. The entire cavern rumbled with a catastrophic boom as I flew backward, smashing through a pile of aether crystals from the blowback. Then I hit the ground, rolling for a bit before I came to a stop.

My head rang, the sound reverberating through my skull and making stars race across my vision. I blinked blearily as I stared up at the rocky ceiling, trying to center myself.

Power output… increased by twenty-five percent at minimum, I thought, feeling hazy. My body ached from the whiplash. Especially effective with solid ballistic rounds.

"Experiments needed for hollow points or burst shells," I mumbled, my vision swimming. "Otherwise… success."

A familiar head of navy hair blocked out my wonderful view of the ceiling. Caera was leaning over me, crossing her arms as she looked at me with something between disappointment and appreciation. Her Cat halfmask rested against her forehead, allowing me to see her wrinkled brows.

"You almost broke my sword," she grumbled. "That was a gift from Scythe Seris."

I groaned, pushing myself up. Steam rose from the plates of my right arm. "I would've made you a better one," I offered with a slight frown. "Basilisk blood weapons are great, but soulmetal is a more universal base for all artificing."

I turned back to where the millipede was. Or more accurately, where it used to be. Its entire head was an unrecognizable mess. Splatters of shattered chitin lay in a ruined slop around it, red-purple blood pumping from what was left. A massive wound near its midpoint showed where the artillery shell had exited. A few of its legs twitched slightly in death throes.

Insects often have a decentralized nervous system, I thought warily, conjuring my soulmetal pistol from the dimensional storage embedded in my right arm. I should make sure.

I fired a few more buster shots into its skull. It didn't react.

Dead, then.

Naereni whooped with glee, kicking the aether beast's corpse. "Take that, you big ugly lug!" she said, standing like a champion at one of Victorious' gladiator fights over their contestant's corpse.

"Your idea about decaying frostfire actually worked," Caera said thoughtfully, resting her large ruby blade over her shoulder as she surveyed the frostfire wounds on the thing's carapace. "You know, I'm not one to doubt you usually, but that wasn't something I expected."

I nodded slowly. I'd suggested the idea after using the asura's strange goggles to hone in on the decay deviants of both women, seeing how they flowed in and about each other. I'd theorized that with a shift in frequency and alignment, they could probably make a merger.

It had taken a lot of practice and promises, but these two Vritra-blooded mages had managed to mesh their mana to make a never-before-seen discovery with their deviant magics. I was already trying to think of ways to apply this to their abilities in and outside of combat.

Naereni took that moment to stride over. The black-haired Striker wiped a bit of blood from her dark leather clothes, giving me a genuine smile. "Damn smart thinking, Douboir," she complimented, raising a fist for me to bump. "I thought Boulders here would mess it up somehow, but our mana actually did synergize."

I glanced at the offered fist, then opted to observe the cavern. It was rich in resources and loot that made this ascent worthwhile a dozen times over but mainly, my eyes focused on those aether crystals.

"You could at least play along," Naereni complained, lowering her hand. "Toren always did. It was a game for him to try and keep his cufflinks away from me, but you won't play at all."

"Well, my brother recognizes that he has better things to do than engage with your pointless games," Caera countered, smirking at the thief by trade. "Unlike you, he's above such pettiness. Our blood is far, far too pure to warrant such foolishness."

"Funny you should say that, Boulders," the young woman replied, her red eyes glinting mischievously. "Since it's taken you so long to notice, I'll just spare you the despair. I already replaced all of your coins back in our hovel."

Caera opened her mouth in surprise, uncertainty, and accusation. Her face went red all the way to her ears in disgruntlement–something the Rat noticed as well. "Damn it, twitter-fingers!" she snapped. "If you nabbed my allowance from the Denoirs again I am going to stuff your sleeping bag full of that lavender bath soap you hate so much!"

Where did my kind, dutiful sister go? I lamented internally. Who is this brute who dumps alchemical agents down her teammate's sleeping bag?

Ever since Caera had started hanging out with Naereni, things had gone from bad to worse. My sister, apparently, suppressed strong criminal tendencies, which the Rat took every opportunity to try and draw out. It was only my ration and reason that kept her from trying to rob one of the Supervisory Centers with that devil in a Rat's mask. And when Naereni wasn't trying to tempt Caera into doing utterly stupid heists, they were squabbling like shintcats.

I'd tried to stop these two once. That had only united them against me, so now I left them to their squabbling. Most of the time.

"Enough of that for now," I cut in wearily before Naereni could counter again. "We need to do clean-up tasks before we head on to the next zone. I'm going to see about getting as much of this millipede's blood as I can." 

Depending on the blood I sank the soulmetal into, I could increase the rate I grew their reserves. I suspected it had something to do with how prominently the lifeforce lingered after death.

"You know, I've seen a Named Blood man grow a lot of plants for a hobby once," Naereni said, her eyes darting towards a pocket of the cave that held a few remaining artifacts and ascender's garb. "I think growing metal is a bit weird in comparison. You shoulda just stuck with growing wood. Less weird."

Don't give into it, I repeated to myself, striding away. Be the mature one, Sevren. Be the mature one.

"Considering we laid down a tether the moment we entered this zone, we'll be able to return for the crystals we can't bring back this time," I said, ignoring Naereni's comment. "Our dimension rings aren't big enough for all of this, so it'll probably take a few trips."

The next hour or so consisted of routine cleanup in the wake of a victory. I collected as much of the millipede's blood as I could in small vats that held a few gallons, before stashing as many of the crystals away in my dimension ring as I could.

I adjusted the goggles where they rested on my forehead, deliberately avoiding thoughts about who had given them to me. What had given them to me.

I'd made absurd bounds in progress with my manatech just from a few cursory uses of these flow goggles. Their ability to hone in on the flow of any ambient mana particle and focus their frequency was a boon for my crafting. They were too finicky for combat, unfortunately, but once I started using them, I'd never looked back.

I adjusted my cloak, the comforting teal banishing thoughts of what had happened so far south of Fiachra after that day. Naereni's lover had used his Sentry abilities to go scouting the aftermath once the earthquakes had stopped. I didn't want to think about that too much.

I remembered Toren's words from long ago, shivering slightly. Wraiths existed.

I slowly walked over to where my sister and Naereni were both sorting through items in an out-of-the-way cave a ways away. They were observing a few large crystals of milky purple, each of them with a different look on their faces.

"You look upset, Naereni," I said, my eyes noting the four milky eggs in this birthing bed. "I thought you'd enjoy stealing these."

The Rat, surprisingly, bit her lip as she averted her gaze. "Stealing's fine and all. But stealing from the dead, well… Thieving's only fun because you can fail, right? But these people won't ever be able to stop me."

I looked at the aether crystals, recognizing what she meant. The gear and loot glimmering in the center of each of these rocks had probably belonged to ascenders that hadn't escaped the millipede's gullet.

That would be a lonely way to die, I thought, staring at a crystal that contained a glimmering spear emblazoned with runes. All that is left of you encased in millipede excrement. Just your clothes and weapons.

I was reminded uncomfortably of how I'd locked myself away in the Town Zone for a time. In the outside world, it couldn't have been more than a couple weeks. But within the time-distorting effects of the Relictombs, it had been months.

Would some ascender have eventually come across my bones one day, if Toren had never pulled me out of that pit? I wondered. Would Caera have mourned for me?

Would Lenora have mourned for me?

"Say, Whiskers," Caera said, poking at her friend with a finger as she looked sullenly at the defeated remains. "Tell me again which bath bomb you hate the most. I'll make sure to get a dozen of them for you when we get back."

It was obvious bait to pull the young thief away from her dark musings, but as always, it worked. "I don't know, Moose," she said, a bit of her humor returning. "I'll have to spend all your liberated coin if you do anything."

I never wanted to have a mask or anything as part of this group, but Naereni had insisted. She'd roped Caera in first with the idea of the 'Menagerie.' But the animal that Naereni had first bestowed upon Caera had been a moose. Because of her horns.

And Caera hated it.

She narrowed her eyes back at Naereni. "Moldy cheese it is, then. Bath bombs are too good for you, twitter-fingers."

Naereni snorted, sauntering away with an exaggerated sway in her hips. "Okay then, Mouse. We'll see if you ever manage to catch me sleeping again."

That had been the second suggestion after Caera's refusal. Mouse. Caera had finally decided to be the Cat. Because—as she'd once said to me in a near rage—cats ate rats.

My adoptive sister gave an exasperated sigh as she watched Naereni go. "I'll catch you sleeping," she grumbled. Then she turned her eyes to me, raising a navy brow. "What? Just gonna stay silent, Douboir?"

"It doesn't work when you say it," I said dryly, walking forward to look at the millipede's eggs. "We have the same last name."

Caera sighed, shaking her head. "You have no idea how much work it is managing you two."

"You, manage us?" I replied, turning back to her with an incredulous expression. "If I didn't pull you two away from each other, you two would've invented weapons fit to pull the Sovereigns from their thrones, and only used them on each other!"

Caera walked over to me, rolling her eyes as she observed the same crystal. She patted me lightly on the back. "Whatever you say, Douboir."

—

It didn't take long to reach the Second Layer of the Relictombs. I made sure to stash every spare aether crystal in the Town Zone before we left, and I'd also convinced Naereni to return Caera's coins to her before we finally descended.

Now, Naereni trailed after us as Caera and I slowly made our way back to the Denoir Relictombs Estate. Internally, I dreaded another chilly confrontation with my mother.

After the revelations of how highblood society could be influenced in the aftermath of the Plaguefire Incursion, I'd started more actively engaging in politics and being part of Highblood Denoir. It had caused tensions in the family to strain further.

I wasn't the direct heir to the Highblood anymore, for starters. My father and Lenora had deemed my constant ascents too risky–despite the surge of wealth, accolades, and glory Caera and I brought to our blood–and nominated Lauden instead.

I didn't care. With the level of profit and glory each and every one of the Menagerie's ascents brought, Highblood Denoir couldn't afford to keep Caera and me away from the Relictombs, or exile us entirely.

I turned back to Naereni as she loped after us, a strange sort of tightness in her shoulders. We were in the well and truly rich parts of the Relictombs. The estates were bigger than many out in the countryside, and the level of magic humming in the air was enough to make any mage's hair stand on end. Everywhere you looked, flags with the symbols of powerful highbloods glowed starkly.

The thief never usually followed us this far when our ascents ended. I knew the young woman had stolen from noble bloods in Fiachra before the Incursion, but it seemed like the sheer magnitude of the wealth on display intimidated her in a surprising way. Her fingers twitched as her head darted this way and that, but it wasn't the normal way whenever she thought she could steal something.

"What are you so nervous about, Whiskers?" Caera asked, noticing the young woman's anxiety. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up, Boulders," Naereni replied, though there wasn't much heat in it. "It's just… Wade is doing his training with Alaric right now, so I can't go back there with him yet. I don't really like Alaric."

I stopped in my walk, surprised by this. "Weren't you the one who dragged him into this 'Menagerie' thing in the first place? Why would you drag the drunken bastard in if you didn't like him?"

"Toren recommended him," Naereni admitted with a sigh. "He said that Alaric was rough around the edges, but he had really good knowledge about all this," she said, gesturing vaguely to us.

"He pretends to be an oaf, but he really does, though," Caera replied after a moment. "Our resident Badger must have been a professional spy or insurgent at one point for all that he's teaching Wade. I've heard a little bit about it. What's there to dislike about him?"

Naereni growled, her hackles rising. "I don't dislike him, alright?" she snapped. "I just don't like watching him drink. That's all. And Wade gives him booze in exchange for Sentry and information training."

Our walk was silent for a time after that as we all separately digested that information. Naereni had told us once in confidence during an ascent that her father had died to a blithe overdose. She'd gone out of her way to rid Fiachra of their blithe epidemic, and more than once our Menagerie–me, Caera, Naereni, Wade, and Alaric, too–had targeted and destroyed remaining blithe distributors across Alacrya.

It's the same thing, in a way, I realized. Alaric drowns out the real world with his binge drinking, just like other addicts do.

"But Wade and he get along," Naereni said, crossing her arms and looking away. "Wade's learning a lot from him. Really being the Owl he's supposed to be and all, so I can't really say anything."

She kicked a pebble down the road. A carriage rumbled over it a moment later, passing us by.

I sighed sufferingly. "I suppose we can postpone going back to our estate for a time," I allowed, trying not to sound too grumpy. I didn't like being out and about in the open. That was Toren's thing, not mine. "We'll get you something to cheer you up."

Naereni looked at me with so many sparkles in her eyes that I winced from the glare. "I knew you cared, Douboir," she said happily.

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, turning back around. Where was that cafe that Renea had taken Toren and me to? That would probably be good. "Just don't steal the menus."

—

It took longer than I expected to find the cafe. Not as long to place our order. But even longer to receive it. In the end, we sat around a table with our items, a young woman delivering our food.

"Is there anything else we can get for you?" she asked, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear as she looked at me. "Is the food all to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you," I said brusquely, turning away from the server to inspect our food. "I don't see anything out of order."

"Well, if you see anything wrong, just give me a call, okay?" the woman said, leaning a bit closer. She chanced a glance at Naereni and Caera across from me, and I thought she might've glared at them.

"I will," I grunted, preparing myself to eat.

The server's face fell slightly. Had she seen something off with our food? She left a bit quickly afterward, so even as I grabbed a fork to spear a crepe, I silently wondered.

But the attention of Naereni's incredulous gaze forced me to look away from my food. "What?"

Her ruby eyes flicked to where the maid had gone, then back to me. "Did you really just–"

Caera laid a suffering hand on Naereni's shoulder. "Don't, twitter-fingers. It's a lost cause." The two shared a look full of meaning that for some reason made my insides curl.

"What?" I asked again, feeling more grumpy. "What did I miss? Is it something with the food?"

Caera rolled her eyes in a way that reminded me distinctly of Lenora. "Sevren, our server was practically fucking you with her eyes," she sighed. "I swear, the only person I've seen worse at picking up hints is Corbett when I try and get authorization for these ascents."

I frowned, then speared my crêpe with the fork. My metal arm whirred slightly. "I'm not looking for romance. Too much to do and too much to make. I've got no time for tramps."

It was Naereni's turn to lean forward on the table, her eyes gleaming. "Never say never, Douboir," she said conspiratorially. "The last time I saw someone try and act all aloof and away from romance was Toren, and we all know how that turned out. Good ol' Miss Beaker got him in her clutches."

I blinked, confused by this. "Miss Beaker? Do you mean Renea Shorn?"

Naereni nodded swiftly. "Yeah, her!" she said, snapping her fingers. "She was always dancing around Toren and leading him on when they were in East Fiachra together, but I guess she finally got what she wanted. Ooooh, the tension between them was electric," she added mischievously.

It was Caera's turn to look a bit confused. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back as her navy brows wrinkled. "Well, I don't know about Renea Shorn or whoever that is, but there are rumors going around Highblood Denoir that Scythe Seris took Spellsong as some sort of paramour. I didn't really pay them any mind, of course. Rumors like those always linger around people of power."

I tilted my head, trying to imagine my best friend being some sort of concubine to that dreadful Scythe. I couldn't see it. Renea Shorn? Maybe. Even if I disliked the woman for her machinations and scheming in sending him to get rid of Mardeth, I could see the looks they shared.

"You're absolutely right to deny those rumors," Naereni whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward. Her eyes gleamed like a schoolchild spilling gossip as they darted left and right, ensuring nobody could hear us. Her tone lowered even further, and against my will, I found myself leaning in to listen alongside my adoptive sister. "Wade's rats sometimes followed Toren about. Ya know, to make sure he didn't run amok with the wrong people. We've always got his back, after all. But there were some times he'd go into the Bloodstone Elixirs headquarters with Miss Beaker, and when he left in the middle of the night, his clothes were covered in cuts."

Naereni's teeth gleamed white like fangs as she grinned, and for the first time, I thought I caught a glimpse of the serpentine blood running through her veins. "And after Toren went to war, Wade lost all trace of Miss Beaker. She's gone into seclusion with a broken heart, mourning for her lost love. That's the only explanation."

It seemed we'd uncovered another strange trait of this Vritra-blooded thief. As she smiled dreamily, I realized with rising horror that she was a romantic.

Caera scoffed, making my horror rise even further. "I mean, if Scythe Seris did take Toren as some sort of consort, then what could Renea Shorn do about it except lock herself away and pout?" she countered. "I'm not saying that Toren didn't have a fling with Renea, but come on. I saw how sulky he was after he left our ball a few months ago. She absolutely rejected him there."

Vritra's Horns, I realized as the two continued to bicker about my best friend's love life. This is the worst possible outcome.

Every single word they exchanged made some deep part of my soul curl up into a little ball, die, and then somehow die again. I looked between the two Vritra-blooded women, imagining that their horns were sprouting from their heads as they continued to gossip.

"What are you on about, Moose?" Naereni asked, genuinely confused. "All this happened after the Plaguefire Incursion, not before it."

Ignore it, Sevren, I told myself, grumpily spearing a bit of my crêpe with my fork. Ignore it, and it will go away. Or it will get easier to deal with.

That was how I finally decided to treat Renea Shorn whenever Toren got into his annoying flirtations with her. I'd pretend she didn't have that infuriating, self-satisfied smile on her face as she looked at him. I'd eventually worked up the nerve to do the same whenever Scythe Seris interrupted my talks with Caera.

In retrospect, it had been easier to deal with Renea Shorn, simply because her smile had been the exact same… as Scythe Seris'…

It all crashed into the forefront of my mind. Renea Shorn's insistence on recruiting Toren; her hatred of blithe. Her ability to confront Mardeth directly. Her power base in Sehz-Clar, where none checked her authority. Her willingness to shift Toren about on the board.

Scythe Seris had given both Naereni and my sister cloaking artifacts, hadn't she? To hide both their horns and shift their features?

My fork—which had just been about to enter my mouth—dropped with a resounding clatter to my plate. "Sovereign's blood," I muttered, suddenly feeling far from hungry.

Toren said he was working on his saberwork with Scythe Seris, I thought in horror, connecting the dots between Naereni's depiction of him leaving Bloodstone Elixirs and how he'd shown up before our ascents. When he was really… with a Scythe…

He'd lied to me! He'd never been practicing sword forms!

Caera and Naereni were both staring at me with curiosity, but I didn't say anything for a long moment. My sister chewed on some sort of fruit, while Naereni kept her hand behind her head. "Spill the beans, Douboir," Naereni demanded. "Come on!"

"Renea Shorn probably had a necklace," I groaned, propping my elbows onto the table and burying my face in my hands. My voice came out muffled and weak. "Just like the ones you two have."

Naereni blinked, then cackled uproariously. Her barking laughter echoed all throughout the cafe as Caera choked on her food, her face turning red as she leaned over the table. My sister slammed a fist into her chest several times, trying to dislodge whatever had gotten stuck.

There were only a couple patrons in the cafe, but they all glared at Naereni as her laughter interrupted everything. The waitstaff sent subtle glances our way, too, imploring us to be quiet.

Caera finally managed to swallow her food, her face flushed. "Then that means that the rumors…"

"Please stop talking about my best friend and his love life," I finally begged, unable to bear this anymore. "Anything else."

Naereni finally managed to settle down, but as she did so, there was a pinched expression behind her eyes. "Say, Douboir," she said, her eyes flicking about as she made sure we weren't being overheard, "What… Well, what exactly is up with him? He's trying to do something with this war. I know that. But… Why did we have that intruder a couple weeks back? What exactly is Toren?"

I stared down at my food, knowing that I wouldn't be eating any of it. Toren's words trickled through my mind.

"Nico's soul is from another world beyond this one. And alongside another like him, Agrona plans to use them both to draw something truly powerful to this dimension. The soul of a being with a capacity for perfect control over mana, enough that they could rip it from the asura themselves. With her, Agrona can truly end this war he has with Kezess Indrath. No more will he need the likes of Alacrya or Dicathen. Epheotus would be his only goal."

It wasn't hard to put together. Toren had claimed to have visited the homeland of Scythe Nico, and alongside the strangeness of the Relictombs…

Toren–at least some part of him–was from another world beyond ours. Despite this, he sought to try and help ours with that bond of his. He sought to put down a Scythe.

"He's the key," I said after a few seconds. "He'll be what ends this unending war between Epheotus and Alacrya."